#thanks for indulging me with all these asks

[luveline]

Jade can I please get a chatty af yapper sunshine girlfriend with Sirius?? Like May be someone tells her she talks a lot so she's super quiet around him cuz she's worried he'll get annoyed and break up with her but poor Sirius he misses his chatty girl and just angst with fluff

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

James Potter means well. Honestly, you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body, so you try not to take it to heart. 

Unfortunately, your attempts to do so don’t work. They really, unquestionably don’t. By the time you’re outside of Sirius’ flat that afternoon, James’ small comment is all you can think of. 

“You’re so chatty I’m surprised you don’t run out of breath,” he’d said. Not without love. You’d bumped into him in Sainsbury’s and ended up talking for ages about one thing or another, you know him well, you’d even say you were friends, though he’s of course Sirius’ friend rather than your own. “But I’m the same. God, Sirius used to hate how much I talked, he’d be sick of me. I think I numbed him to it over the years.” 

You can’t imagine it. Sirius and James are best friends. With Remus, they’re the most in love threesome of friends you’ve ever met, and it’s nice; it makes you very proud to have a boyfriend who cares for others as deeply as Sirius cares for them. It’s like a constant demonstration of how he’s a good man. 

But you’d never stopped to consider that they weren’t always so seamless, and you’ve regrettably never considered that your constant talking is something that could put him off. 

You talk to Sirius about everything. There isn’t a word to describe the excitement of having someone waiting to listen to you every single night. You could tell him every detail of a day down to what colour socks you wore and you know he’ll sit there listening with his hand on the small of your back, or his fingers twined between yours. You’ve never felt so loved as to be able to just talk about everything and have him talk back. 

But… what if, this whole time, he’s been wishing for a little bit of quiet? 

What if eventually, the talking becomes too much? 

He must be with you for a reason. You aren’t holding the poor guy hostage, he acts like he’s mad for you ninety percent of the time (while the other ten percent is spent sleeping on your shoulder). 

Like now —you knock his door and you can hear him scrambling up from the sofa, the sound of a book dislodged or a remote hitting the rug, you’re not sure. The door yanks open and Sirius smiles at you, pulling you in through the gap with a familiar hand on your hip. 

“Hey,” Sirius says, tucking you against his side, “hey, did you get lovelier over the weekend?” He shoves the door closed and gives you a hug with one arm, pausing in the hall. “Sorry I couldn’t see you. I don’t think we should miss another weekend.” 

You have a lot to tell him. It’s been ages since you spent nearly three days apart, but James’ conversation stays at the front of your mind. 

You decide to be less overwhelming, but not less loving, curling your arm behind his head to pull his cheek down for a kiss. “I don’t think so, either.” 

Sirius tilts his head away from you in an invitation for more kissing. 

You’re at home in his flat. You take off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You change into a pair of jogging bottoms with loose legs and let him hoist you onto his bed for a few stolen kisses, though he isn’t propositioning you, and you end up laying across his bedspread with one of your legs in his lap as he tells you about his days without you, his thumb sliding with pressure down your calf. 

“Mostly I wished I’d asked you to come over anyways, even if it was just to sleep together at the end of the day. Maybe next time we can do that?” he asks. 

“Of course we can.” You smile at him indulgently. “I’d come over for twenty minutes if it was all I could get.” 

“Or I can come to you,” he says, “even if it’s just twenty minutes.” 

He smiles, a beaming thing, and leans down slowly for a soft kiss. 

“So,” he asks, his breath on your lips, “how was your weekend? Lonely?” 

“So lonely,” you tease lightly, eyes fluttering closed as he continues his massaging of your leg. “But it was okay. I missed you, really, and didn’t do much else.”

“No?” he asks. 

Your voice takes on a shine as he squeezes your knee, “Missed your hands.”  

“I missed your everything.” He grabs for your forearms and pulls you into a sitting position. “But everything was okay?” he asks more seriously. 

“Everything was fine.” 

He raises his eyebrows, but eventually lets them relax. “Well, okay. Good, sweetheart, I’m glad it was okay.” 

He persuades you into the kitchen to sit with him as he makes dinner, refusing to let you help, and yet insisting you be there in the same room, as though you’d like to be anywhere else. Sirius makes your favourite of his usual rotation, offering you spoonfuls for tasting, gaps of silence stretching as he struggles to find new conversation. You start answering his questions but remember time and time again that Sirius could become totally sick of you. He might already be. 

Sirius puts the food on a low heat and washes his hands. He wipes them dry, but when he takes your face, dampness lines the inside of his fingers. 

“I’d like for you to tell me what’s wrong,” he says gently, stroking at the line of your startled frown, “before it gets worse. Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Please don’t, lovely. If I’ve done something wrong, please tell me. I want us to last forever, and we can’t do that if you won’t tell me when I upset you.” 

“It wasn’t you,” you say instinctively, then regret it. 

“So someone has?” he asks, still so gentle as his hands coast down your neck like he’s sculpting you, coming to rest on the slopes leading to your shoulders. “You can tell me anything. You don’t have to keep it to yourself… please.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Sweetheart.” He frowns deeply. Couldn’t look more upset. “Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

You chew it over, not wanting or willing to cause ructions between Sirius and his oldest friend. “Well, I saw James today at the shop, and… we were talking about you…” 

He waits. “And?” 

“And he told me you– you don’t like talking. That you didn’t like talking, that James used to make you sick of it. So I know I talk too much and you’ve never made me feel like I shouldn’t, but I guess I got into my head thinking you’d get sick of me, too.” 

“When we were younger I didn’t like much of anything.” He curls an arm behind your neck to hold you in place, but it’s not a dominant sort of movement, only protective as your noses inch together. “Did you ever read that poem by Bukwoski? Let It Enfold You?” 

“What?” 

“I’m not very good at explaining myself. I thought if you knew the poem, you’d–” He laughs near your cheek. “I hated everything. It wasn’t James’ fault. He did make me sick of it sometimes, but I just wanted to hide from everything.” He breathes out slowly. “I’ve never wanted to hide from you. I can’t get sick of you. Do you get that? I can’t get sick of you. Listening to you is the best part of my day, you’re my personal chatterbox.” 

“Chatterbox,” you repeat teasingly. 

“You could talk for Wales,” he says. “And I love it, I don’t want you to stop, because I’ll never be sick of it.”

“I don’t want it to be some secret resentment.”

“I don’t resent you for anything. I knew exactly who you were when we met and I love it.” He takes your face again. “I love it,” he repeats. 

You steal a little kiss against the corner of his lips. “What was the poem?” you ask. 

“I’ll find my book, and you can read it to me. What do you think?” He takes a slow kiss as you had in the same place, words like honey. “I miss your voice.” 

He’s basically pleading. It’s not like Sirius to plead, but you pull it out of him. 

“Can I have my dinner first?” 

“The one I made while you deprived me?” he asks. “Yes, if you must.” 

He takes another kiss, but you’re happy to give it. 

[seumyo]

KENJI SATO ✰ 10:43

“Working overtime really doesn’t suit you, Sato.” The teasing sentence made Kenji grunt in disapproval, slumping against his couch.

“Wow, I didn’t notice. Thank you for that valuable input, [Name],” he says, rolling his eyes at you. 

He can’t help the sarcastic reply. Kenji’s schedule was all over the place. His life has been all over the place ever since his return to his home country, Japan. And now he not only has to take care of himself—which, in his defense, was fairly simple when he just had to worry about himself—he has to worry about an infant Kaiju!

What a wonderful (not) icing on the cake.

“Ken is really appreciative that you made time to fulfill his request, or, shall I say, cry for help, [Name].” Mina’s familiar voice flurried from a distance, closing in to your right in a breeze. 

“Hey! It was not a cry for help—it’s more like a... Asking a friend for a favor,” Kenji says, trying to ease his brain with what’s coming out of his mouth (like it was on autopilot, scrambling to defend himself and the pride he had left).

“Uh huh. And the favor is? I don’t really think there’s anything I could do to her containment unit or any repairs that’re needed in this place.”

“I just need someone to watch over her.”

(“I just need someone to talk to” is a much fitting phrase.)

“Doesn’t Mina already do that?”

“There’s only so much a supercomputer like me can do to entertain a living being, [Name].”

On cue, Emi croons at the video of you singing on stage. A part time career of yours, because when you’re not developing new tech that boosts the economy, you might as well indulge in your hobbies. 

Kenji wouldn’t admit it, but he has a vinyl or two—or even a whole collection of them—that he considers as priceless as his one-of-a-kind sports car displayed in the basement.

“Would you look at that? She likes your singing.” 

He watches as you take a step closer to Emi, observing how she delightedly squealed at the soft melody being played on the holograms. This 20-foot-tall baby Kaiju reminded you of the time you took care of children at the daycare center.

“I just...” he sighs. You didn’t even notice that Kenji was already beside you, offering you a canned drink. 

“How do you do it? Juggle everything?” He murmurs. “You’re the busiest person I know. Working on your thesis, performing at various concerts, taking on charity work, and whatnot. Hell, if you could run for president, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you in the elections, too.”

A quiet laugh was returned. “It’s not easy, that’s for sure. But within time, you’ll learn just what you need and what you can handle.”

“Mm. Don’t you ever just want to run away from all the responsibilities people place on your shoulders? I can barely take care of this young lady,” he chuckles, though it doesn’t hold even the slightest ounce of humor to it.

“I wish, but then I’ll remember the kids who're so happy to see me whenever I drop by,” you say. “They may be a handful at times, but you’ll be surprised to know just how smart and caring they are. How they take in their surroundings and attempt to figure out who they are. We’re all what they have. The least we could do is give them our time and love all the same.”

Kenji lets your words sink in. Simple and touching. The kind that gets the gears in his head to start twisting.

“You really are a charm with your words; did you know that?”  

“Thanks; I try my best.”

The night continues with Kenji and Emi playing baseball on a simulated field with you by the shed, cheering on from a safe distance. Kenji doesn’t remember the last time he’s been this genuinely happy after his return to Japan. It’s a refreshing feeling that he wants to get used to again. To see the baby Kaiju successfully hit the ball with a swift swing after watching after him is a sight that tugs at one’s heartstrings.

Just like a proud father.

“Come on, girl! We gotta run the bases!”

And as the two celebrate their moment of triumph, the baby Kaiju stomps toward you and giggles happily as she hoists you in the air without much warning. You took it all in you not to shriek and absolutely lose all composure, but when you’re up in the air and are being held to a bear hug like some sort of teddy bear by a Kaiju that could probably crush your bones if not careful, it’s hard to not just scream for your life.

“Oh, ok—ok. Baby, put me down gently, please,” you chuckle nervously. 

“It appears that the little one sees you as her other mother,” Mina adds.

Kenji laughs at the sight, pulling out his phone to take a picture. This is definitely a memory he’d want to remember.

“This is not funny, Kenji. Tell her to put me down.”

“Aw, is Baby not listening to her Mommy?”

“Again, not funny. This is like an out-of-the-blue co-parenting a child with you. With you being my annoying ex-husband.”

“Specific, eh?”

“Shut!”

When you’re just about to leave for the night, Kenji suggests that you sleep over. There’s a lot of spare bedrooms in their manor, he reasons. He also doesn’t understand what came over him to offer, but he doesn’t take it back.

But it could be because he’s missed you. And he’s somewhat afraid that this may be the last time you see each other in a while due to your clashing schedules.

“You’re such a girl dad, Kenji,” you tease.

“Haha, good one,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. He took a couple of blankets from the closet and placed them on the bed.

“Just saying.”

“Whatever you say, Mommy.”

“Oh hush, Daddy.”

That ringed out a laugh from him. “Bleh, that sounds so embarrassing coming from you.”

You shrugged. “Hm? Don’t you think you’re embarrassing too?”

“I’m not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. I will not be going back and forth like this with you anymore, Kenji Sato. Good night!”

Kenji can’t hide the smile that appears on his face. Yeah, he definitely missed this. 

Definitely missed you.

SEUMYO © 2024. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[damianbugs]

DEBUNKING SOME COMMON COMIC COMPLAINTS:

the funniest shit ever is when i say "oh hey friend you should give batman comics a try i think you'll like them!" and the response is "no thanks he's a bad dad in those i'll stick to fics." because like... i swear to you on my life Bruce Wayne Ao3 has done worse shit in fics than he ever has in canon.

"oh but you can just filter those tags/ignore those stories—" you can. do the same with comics... this man has been around for decades. do you think every story was exactly the same? not even the SAME writers write him the same way twice. (EXAMPLE: Frank Millers 'Batman Year One' has bruce jump off a bridge to save a baby. Frank Millers 'Batman and Robin All Stars' has bruce feed dick rats.)

"oh but fics are free—" so are comics 🏴‍☠️... unless ur a coward. whoever told you that you have to buy comics to read them or enjoy them is a liar and you should explode them. spending money and collecting is a completely personal (and life altering) decision.

"it's so hard to find specific comics/dynamics/tropes etc" the internet is truly a fantastic place. you can find a reading list or blog for the most niche of characters, so you will have absolutely no problem finding one for the bastard man who appears in every single comic ever published by dc. if not, ask your comic friends and not friends, comic blogs, tiktok comment sections etc. there will be one hyperfixated enthusiast eagerly awaiting the opportunity to give you their extensive guide.

"i just want to read/create my own story with them" you and me both buddy. reading comics doesn't mean you are not allowed to let yourself indulge in completely impossible fanon scenarios that heal or ruin your life. in fact, do you know the inexplicable euphoria that comes with stumbling upon a fic that rewrote a canon event? continued a badly finished comic story? it's life changing. fun to write too!

if you don't want to read comics for whatever reason, fine, literally whatever — but if you want to and certain things are holding you back from doing do, this is for you! who gaf about fandom discourse and "name me three batman comics"-ism, just don't hold yourself back from exploring this media even further! if anything, having a couple comics under your belt makes analysis and discussion far more genuine, and not like your chatting shit from out your ass.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 30)

They sat next to each other, Uzi immediately leaning into N, holding onto his arm and into his shoulder, N did his best to keep himself from blushing, instead wrapping his arm around her back.

Lizzy was already visibly uncomfortable, trying her best to not look at them, Uzi grinned up at N, this was gonna be easier than she thought.

If she was honest, PDA was not something she enjoyed, if she was going to be affectionate, she'd prefer to do it only between them, behind several closed doors. But! making Lizzy suffer was a chance she wouldn't pass up.

“Alright… V! Truth or Dare?” Thad began, looking to his side and making a finger gun at her, V's tail twitched once before she responded.

“Dare, I'm no coward.” She replied, and Thad leaned back and thought for a moment, tapping his foot idly.

“I dare you to… Tell N he's great at something.” He said after a moment, making V jump and Uzi snort, it sounded so simple but she knew she would struggle.

“Aw ugh, why that?” V protested, grumbling at Thad while he looked up at her nervously, visible sweat trailing down his visor.

“It'll be funny?” Uzi suggested, trying to back Thad up, she gave the worker a thumbs up, and he smiled gratefully.

She grimaced, eyes drifting over to N who was looking back at her with curious and slightly amused eyes. She flushed.

“N.” She started gruffly, clearly forcing every word.

“Yes?” N replied, amusement dancing in his tone. Uzi was already snickering, trying to conceal her laughter behind her hand.

“You are pretty good at… calming people down. I guess.” She finally finished, blushing heavily and averting her gaze from her fellow disassembly drone, N's face lit up in a smile made of sunshine.

“Aww thanks V!” His tail wagged behind him.

“Yeah don't get used to it.” She replied, quickly recovering from her fluster, she looked over at Lizzy, who despite hiding her face had in fact been giggling to herself. V blushed harder.

“Now it's your turn V.” Thad explained, it was clear that he had also been chuckling, only he knew better then to make it obvious, especially while sitting right next to her and not being Lizzy.

“N, Truth or Dare!” She barked, at her voice Lizzy turned back to face the rest of the group, looking up at V.

“Truth!” He stated immediately, tail still wagging from earlier, he squished Uzi closer to his side, she'd told him to “indulge in every sappy thought he had.” So that's what he was doing.

“Wimp.” V and Lizzy said at the same time.

“Hey!” He complained, but was silenced by Uzi's hand on his leg, he wasn't sure it was part of Lizzy's teasing or something only for him, he flushed anyway, tail beginning to curl around her waist.

“Do you want more kids?” V smirked as she asked it, it getting wider as N's breath was instantly taken away, if he was flustered before, he was about to perish now.

“Agh! V!”

He flushed a brilliant gold, glancing down at Uzi who had flushed similarly, although she did have a questioning look on her face, as if she too was curious.

“I-I yeah, eventually.” He gulped, feeling the nerves crawl up his spine. Was this how truth or dare was played? Trying to embarass the other people playing or expose them? “If… if Uzi wants them.”

Uzi ripped her gaze away, oookay that was something to keep in mind. She hadn't thought about the prospect at all herself, but knowing N had was… exciting? nerve-wracking?

He fully expected for them to last forever, if he was already thinking about things like that, it brought a wobbly smile to her face. She wanted them to last forever too… and maybe they would have more, together.

“Looks like she does~” V teased, taking great satisfaction in making her fluster.

“Bite me! I didn't say anything!” Uzi snapped back, Tera giggled in her lap, making a digital equivalent to a snarl to copy her tone, although it sounded more like a mewl.

“It's written all over your face.” V smirked.

“Gross! Cut it out V!” Lizzy interjected, shoving V lightly in the shoulder, V only laughed, both at her request and her pathetic shove.

“What? We were all thinking it.”

“I wasn't!” She seethed, looking pouty up at her freind, V smirked down at her, and Lizzy only lasted a few more seconds before she flushed a bright pink and looked away.

“Alright, Alright, N's turn.” Thad gestured to the family on the loveseat, Uzi was resting her head on N's lap, rolling Tera around on her chest, what started as a way to tease someone was quickly being converted into real affection, although Uzi would never admit it if asked.

“Thad, Truth or Dare.” N repeated everyone else's words, he was kinda liking this game, it seemed harmless enough, even if it could get a little embarrassing, it was all in good fun! Subconsciously, he was running his fingers through his girlfriends hair as she laid there.

He couldn't remember the last time he was in a room with this many people and all of them liked him; or at least didn't hate him.

“Truth.” Thad replied, leaning back into the couch, his foot propped up on his leg, he looked… very comfortable, maybe a little weird considering he was sitting beside someone who had tried to kill him. And unlike N, had actually meant it.

“Lame.” V hummed, causing Lizzy to nod in agreement, it was then that Uzi noticed that V had put an arm around Lizzy subtlety, at first it was resting on top of the couch, now it was over her shoulders.

Hypocrite.

“Nah.” Was the only sound out of Thad's mouth, giving the while situation a wave with his hands.

“Hmmm…” His eyes fell to V, and he got an idea, if the purpose was to embarass them, then;

“Do you think V is cute?” Thad blinked, before slowly turning his head to look at the disassembly drone, she looked back, clawed hands in crossed arms and her eyebrow raised.

“N are you trying to kill me man?”

“It's just a question.” Uzi backed him up, giving him a sideways glance as N looked down at her, eyes slowly softening as he got lost in his admiration.

“Well? Do you?” V asked him, turning her head to look down at him instead of Lizzy, inquisitive, visible sweat began to fall on the inside of his visor, clearly thinking very carefully about the next words out of his mouth.

“Uh. I wouldn't use the word cute, you're… attractive? In a intimidating… you'd probably kill me kinda way?” He tried to delicately explain. He wasn't blushing but he did look incredibly nervous, V stared at him for a moment before curtly nodding her head.

“Good answer.”

Lizzy looked past V and right at him, giving him a glare that told him precisely what would happen if he ever made a move on V, he wasn't! But that didn't mean that he didn't find her attractive, she could kick his ass! She had kicked his ass.

Thad found most people a little bit attractive, just not enough to ever do anything about it… was he supposed to?

“Hah…” He gulped, before quickly trying to change the subject. “Oookay…my turn again then.”

“Lizzy?”

“Lay it on me.” She said nonchalantly, head leaning back on V's arm without drawing much attention to it. Uzi would have called her out, she wanted to, but Lizzy was lucky she had respect enough for V to keep her mouth shut.

“Truth or Dare.”

“Dare.” She said, recrossing her arms, V nodded approvingly in response.

“I dare you… to hold Tera.” Thad said after a moment of watching Uzi play with the droneling, letting her roll into the crook of her neck before what he said caught up to her and she lifted her away.

“Um hey, I have problems with that.”

“Aww come on, Lizzy won't drop her, right Lizzy.” Thad reassured, looking back at Lizzy who had hollowed eyelights for a moment before quickly catching herself.

“If Doorman has a problem with it, then you should pick another dare, Thad.” She gritted her teeth clearly trying to-not-so-subtly tell him that she really didn't want to.

“Uzi, come on, we won't let Lizzy drop her. V?” He looked up at V, who rolled her eyes for a moment before turning back to Lizzy.

“Liz?” Oh, her voice was so soft when saying her name. Uzi almost wanted to laugh if she didn't know if she did he would be the world's largest pot calling the kettle black, hers did the same thing when talking to N.

“Ugh. Fine! I won't drop her, I promise or whatever.” It seemed Lizzy noticed it too, because she had flushed again and unfolded her arms to hold them out, ready to except the droneling.

Both parents swapped glances, Uzi slowly lifted up Tera and brought her over to where Lizzy was sitting, gently dropping her in Lizzy’s awaiting arms.

She held her correctly, surprising her, and even held her chassis tenderly, clearly not wanting to actually harm the baby. Tera looked up at her and squinted.

“There? Happy Thad?” She asked him, deadpan, gesturing to the baby in her arms, but making a point not to look at her.

“Uh… Lizzy?” Thad's eyes were hollow, pointing at the infant currently in her arms.

“Wh- Ah!”

Tera's screen was now a single unblinking purple “X” and she was completely still, gazing deeply into Lizzy's visor. The entire room lost their breath, N's eyes went hollow, as did Uzi's.

Did she… Did she have the solver? Oh robo-god did she somehow transfer it through her oil or something? Was it contagious that way? Oh shit, oh f-

Lizzy looked terrified for a breif moment, before the X disappeared, and Tera was laughing mischievously. Clearly having done it on purpose to scare her.

Either copied from her or N.

“Hah! Someone has a sense of humor!” V snarled out a laugh, and relief hit both parents, it was something she'd learned, not a symptom of… that.

“Take your freaky kid!” Lizzy quickly held Tera away from her, as far away as she could possibly without dropping her.

“She's not freaky!”

Uzi took her anyway, cradling her daughter in her arms which was currently giving her a very familiar smirk.

“You shouldn't scare people like that.” She spoke down to the little one.

“Hehehe, Mama!”

She went back over to the loveseat, core still racing after witnessing her daughter display such a tell-tail sign of being… different. Even if it was only something she'd picked up from them.

“Who you picking Liz?” V asked after having her laughing fit.

“Doorman.”

“Oh what a surprise.” Uzi rolled her eyes, how typical was that?

“Truth or Dare.” She asked, a snarky bite to her voice that often made Uzi want to beat her head in, or maybe slit her throat, her kit would need the oil soon.

Wait, what?

“Dare, no blackmail material for you.” She spoke before she could dwell on that thought, sighing as Tera giggled up at her, still an even temperature.

“Fair.” Lizzy shrugged, before a sneer came back to her face. “Make out with N.”

“W-what…?”

“You two have been lovey-dovey all day just to annoy me. So I'm calling your bluff. Bet you won't.” Lizzy had her hands on her hips, aside from the one that was now pointing at the both of them, gold met purple, and both blushed.

“Isn’t that a little much Lizzy…?” Thad tried to interject, trying to save them.

“Don't tell me you haven't been watching them make googly eyes at each other this entire time, doesn't it make you uncomfortable?”

“No? Not really.” Thad replied, and he was being honest. Not only had he not really noticed, but what little he had he thought was nice, they looked happy!

“Well, it does me. So? Are you doing it? Or are you scared?”

Uzi Doorman wasn't scared! Not of anything, especially not kissing her boyfriend! Spite was the prime emotion she was feeling when she turned to N, who's eyes were hollow as he realized that Lizzy had just said the magic words for Uzi to do anything.

“N. Are you okay with this?” She asked first, and he nodded nearly instantly despite the fact all the eyes on his head was looking out into the room full of people, his mouth went dry as he flushed more.

“I'm not scared of anything!” She yelled out at Lizzy before placing Tera on a pillow next to them and gripping his jacket, giving him only a moment to prepare himself before she was kissing him roughly.

His tail shot up and kinked on itself, eyes somehow getting wider for a moment before he started to melt, eyes fluttering closed as Uzi moved to hold his shoulder and grip him firmly.

His tail came around to pull her closer, and while it started chaste, like their first kiss, Uzi slowly began to deepen it, he felt himself shudder in delight as her tongue ran across his lip, asking to continue.

He made a groan as he aquestied, letting her do whatever she wanted with him.

To Uzi, she was acutely aware of the people watching them, and couldn't really let herself enjoy the moment, unlike N, who has completely forgotten the existence of other people the second she deepened the kiss.

She pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting them for a moment, both panted for a second, N's eyes reopening as the world came back in around him.

Holy Crap…

He could… understand the appeal now. He internally apologized to both Rebecca and Darren as well as all the horror movie characters he'd slandered.

She wiped her mouth with her hand, blushing profusely as she locked eyes with Lizzy, who looked like she was about to hurl, or maybe flee.

“Not. Scared.”

V began to howl of laughter, as N's eyelights were replaced by both a yellow heart and and a swirl, a blush overtaking most of his visor as he became one with the couch, sinking into it in his dazed state.

“I think you broke him…” Thad said, looking sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. This seemed to be enough to make him blush in second hand embarrassment, green coating the bottom of his visor.

Uzi turned her attention back to her boyfriend, who had the biggest smile on his face as his tail was wagging wildly, now returned to it's place behind him instead of wrapped around her.

“Are you okay?” She asked, trying not to die of embarrassment herself as she slowly lifted him back into a sitting position, one of her other hands finding Tera, who immediately squealed the second she was touched.

“I’m perfect, biscuit~” He replied, still a little dazed, eyes drifting over to her in a lovestruck stare.

“Awww.” Thad cooed.

“Bite me!”

V continued her laughter, Lizzy huffed in annoyance, and the game continued, the tension between all five drones slowly dissipating into nothing.

Next ->

[treacheryinblue]

Chapter 3/4

Noah Sebastian x F!Reader Series

Word Count: 8.9k

Masterlist

× Summary: Noah is Death, the ruler of the after life (or whatever you want to call it), though he is cursed to watch you come and go from his never ending existence time and time again.

× Warnings!: Eh-level smut (P in V obviously), language, little bit of violence, tiny fluff if you squint, very slight dom!noah, smut with plot aka this became more in depth than I meant for it to aka a one shot that's now a series. Non-proofread smut. Let me know if I missed anything!

× Author's Notes: ( 1 ) It's a bit of a long one, folks! Consider it a thank you for being so patient while I've worked through my writer's block. ( 2 ) Don't look too deep into the lore I've created because there's probably a lot that doesn't make sense. But if you are curious, then feel free to ask me any questions! ( 3 ) I'm but a writer that thrives off positive feedback (or even constructive criticism), so don't be shy when it comes to interacting with the post, or even me.

Happy reading! xoxo

“That soul is not meant for this land, my lord.”

Silence was given as a response. 

“She is not destined to be here, and you know what will hap-”

“Yes, I am well aware of the consequences to my actions.” Noah heavily exhaled, though he appeared uninterested in the conversation. 

Sitting atop his throne, black and sleek, one hand gripped the arm rest while the other was bent and lifted to his face. He examined his nails, further showing his boredom. 

“Please forgive me if I'm speaking out of turn, my lord, but…the Light Ones are not happy. It has been nine times now and each plays out just like the last.”

A growl was emitted from him, dark eyes flickering to the creature who stood below. “I do not need you reciting my failures to me, demon.”

Noah couldn't bear to think of how you had been ripped from him countless times now. Pried from his hands. Stolen away. You had spent centuries together, longer than any human could dream of living - if one could call you alive - but he knew an infinite amount of centuries more would never be enough. He needed forever. 

“If the Light Ones think I'm going to give up just because they look down upon my doings, then they are sorely mistaken. Maybe they aren't as all knowing as they like to remind us of every chance they receive.” He spat with disdain. 

The demon clamped their mouth shut in fear that they may further anger the embodiment of darkness sitting before them. This is how they remained for a long moment, neither speaking, but the demon holding many questions on their pointed tongue. 

“‘My lord…” they cautiously began after a moment. “Might I ask…what is it about this girl that you're so drawn to? You encounter humans everyday, thousands of them, but none have made you so…”

“Weak?” Noah finished the demon’s sentence for them, his eyebrows quirked. 

The demon immediately fell to their knees, their jagged forehead pressing to the marble floor as if to already begin begging for forgiveness. 

“No! I would never say as such, my lord!” 

Noah shook his head as his focus returned to his nails, just as the ruby encrusted dagger appeared within his grasp out of thin air. 

“There's no need to grovel,” he exclaimed while turning the dagger, inspecting every inch of the blade. “I have become weak when it comes to her…but I don't have an answer for you as to why.”  

It was still a mystery even to him. 

“Does Death itself not deserve the chance to love and to be loved in return, though?” 

× × ×

“Legend says it's cursed.” 

You snorted a laugh as you looked up at the friendly face across the counter, though his expression was as serious as ever, causing your smile to falter slightly. 

“Cursed?” Might as well indulge him a bit if he was going to get all mega serious on you now. 

Nicholas was your go-to guy when it came to purchasing oddities and strange artifacts. He was good at tracking down the specific items you'd ask for but he also had a knack for snagging things he thought you'd find interesting. 

Your eyes dropped to the dagger as you leaned into the glass countertop. There was a twitch in your fingers to reach out and touch the item, to feel the cool metal against your fingertips, though you knew better. Nick was typically pretty light hearted and you two could share a laugh, but you knew when to stay within your lane when it came to his business. Don't touch it until he offers it to you. 

“From what I could find online, it's ancient, so old that no one can really say for sure how long it's been around. And you know how it goes with old things - always a curse or some shit attached to them.” 

Nodding in agreement to his words, your eyes paused upon the faintly noticeable sigil that remained etched into the dagger’s blade. The sigil is why you wanted the item, what you had asked Nick to search for in particular. 

“It's probably bullshit,” he continued, “but it was something about going to the flames if you're on the end of the blade.”

“The website was in some foreign language and the guy I bought it from barely spoke English so I can't give you an accurate translation yet. Who even knows if it's legit.” 

The bell above the door dinging briefly overtook Nicholas' attention. He held a finger up to you to silently tell you to ‘hold on’, then he stepped around the counter to greet his new patrons. 

“It's legit,” you softly spoke to yourself as you gazed upon the dagger again. There was something drawing you to it; a warmth, a knowing. Your eyes focused in on the cloudy rubies - you knew they'd shine again with a thorough cleaning - and they pulled you closer and closer, your sights now level with the item. Had there been a flicker within the largest stone? Couldn't be. Your eyes were clearly playing tricks on you now. 

As Nick returned, you straightened your posture and smiled. “I'll take it.” 

“What?” Nicholas opened his mouth to speak but then only breathed out, his head tilting slightly to the side. 

“You know I have to charge you as if it's real, right? I mean, I haven't been able to fully inspect it myself or do anymore research, so I feel kinda like an asshole doing th-”

“Nick, it's fine.” You laughed while retrieving your wallet from your bag, fingers digging into the slot that held your credit card. “It's a chance I'm willing to take.” 

“Alright…it's your money.” 

A few minutes later and your new purchase was packaged and ready to go. Nick approached you with an outstretched hand that held the blood red box the dagger was stashed away in, uncertainty in his eyes. You knew he hated not knowing all the ins and outs of his inventory, especially when it came to something with such a hefty price tag. 

“Are you coming tonight?” He asked as you accepted the box which was now being held close to your chest. 

“It's the first show with our new singer but he's been fucking great in rehearsals. Really has an ear for the band.” 

You nodded, again flashing a friendly smile. “I wouldn't miss it for the world.” 

After a bit more chit chat and hammering down the finer details on how the night would go, you said your goodbyes to Nicholas with the obvious promise of seeing him in a few short hours. 

Making your way out of the shop, phone in hand and AirPods nestled in your ears, you only looked up when you were about to cross the street. On the opposite side stood a man, his dark eyes set entirely on you. He was wearing all black with deep brown hair that brushed his cheeks, hands clasped behind his back. Something about him made your stomach do a flip and you felt a pull despite having no idea who this man was. 

Slowly, your feet began to carry you along the crosswalk. He remained in place, though a faint smirk dared to appear over his lips. Your cheeks flushed crimson and you had the urge to glance away like some timid little school girl, but there was something preventing you from looking anywhere but at him. 

“Come.” 

A voice drifted into your mind and then back out as if being carried by the wind. You knew that should've frightened you but you felt nothing. Nothing aside from the biting need to be near this unknown man. 

Then, he was suddenly gone and you were left empty. 

The blaring beep of a horn shook you, your body flinching in surprise from the sudden harsh noise. You looked over to the car that was inches from colliding with you, a hand waving all about behind the windshield and motioning for you to get the fuck out of the way. 

× × ×

 

Arms above your head, you loudly hollered along with the rest of the crowd as the song came to an end. Red lights flashed all around you, the stage illuminating and going fully dark in quick succession. Your hands collided in a fury of claps before lowering to cup around your mouth. 

“Wooooo!” You had never been much of a ‘woo girl’ but alcohol made it loads more enjoyable to do. 

You could feel the vibrations from both the noise you projected and the bass of the band in the hollow of your stomach, reverberating throughout your entire being. There was something sensual about it - being able to not only hear the music but also feel it. 

Nicholas’ band had been pretty decent before so coming to see them and support their gigs was never an issue. But now? They were fucking amazing. The new singer definitely added to whatever they had been lacking previously, even if there wasn't anything specific you could put your finger on. 

Did it help that the new singer happened to catch your eye a few times? Maybe. 

“Hey!” Nicholas yelled out for you after their set. He had found you at the bar towards the back of the club - just where you always were. 

“Hey yourself!” You called back as a fresh drink was set in front of you by the bartender. 

Nick rolled his eyes at you but still chuckled. Sweat beaded on his forehead, pupils blown from the adrenaline rush he had experienced while on stage. You always thought Nick was pretty cute and you both had a lot in common - he had even asked you out once - but things were better kept as friends between the two of you. As well as the occasional artifacts dealer, of course. 

“Didn't get a chance to see you before we went on, so let me introduce you to the newest member.” 

“Noah!” The guy spoke up for himself, his voice loud enough for him to be heard over the commotion of the crowd and also the next band setting up. 

You paused as your gaze met his, eyes squinting ever so slightly while taking in his face from this new close proximity. He looked just like the ethereal man you had seen outside of Nick’s shop earlier, but also…not. That guy had been finely dressed with much shorter hair and a presence about him that demanded attention, this guy in front of you was the epitome of a 'guy in a band'. Long hair, jeans blown out at the knee, worn Vans that told you he dressed for comfort. Their smiles were the same, though. 

Instead of giving your name, you opted for a question.  “Do you have a brother?” 

Noah extended to you a look of confusion though you swore you saw a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes. 

 “Uh, no? Not that I know of.” Despite your weird question, he laughed and stepped a bit closer to you, his elbow leaning into the side of the bar top. 

Nicholas had fallen into conversation with another band mate, leaving just you and Noah to entertain each other. 

You spared him the explanation of why you had asked such a question. The last thing you needed was to seem creepy or more odd than you already did on a day to day basis. Thankfully it didn't seem as if that was going to deter him from cozying up to you at the end of the bar. 

Drink after drink was had with a couple of shots downed in between. You had found out that Noah had recently moved to Los Angeles, worked at a graphic design company, owned a cat, and shared a building with a rather odd Asian woman that liked to bring him homemade meals multiple times a week. 

You also discovered that you liked the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled too wide and how he was always touching his face as if it was a comforting habit of some sort. 

“Nick said you like to collect…unusual things?” 

You cleared your throat and abruptly averted your gaze before he could realize you had been staring. 

“I guess that's one way to put it,” you admitted with a sheepish smile. Not even the alcohol could mask the embarrassment. 

“My dad was an antiques dealer, scam artist, whatever you want to call it.” You paused to take a swallow from your glass but to also let your honesty sink in. 

“So, I kinda just grew up with old objects that told a story. Buying them for myself - as someone who will care for them and their story - sounds better to me than allowing them to be on display in a stuffy museum somewhere.” 

“That's why you bought the dagger?” 

Huh…had you mentioned the dagger to him? Maybe not. Maybe so. Maybe Nick told him about it. Either way, you took in a deep breath, your head swimming from the alcohol. 

“Not exactly…” 

Noah looked at you curiously, silently asking for you to continue. To tell him. But how were you to explain that you awoke one day with this nagging obsession for the sigil stamped on the blade? That you desired to find every single item you possibly could that bore the same marking? It was impossible to divulge because you had no idea why you had become so hell bent on acquiring these things. You didn't even know what the damned sigil meant. 

“Did you want to see it?” 

And like he had been waiting for you to ask, Noah flashed a devilish grin.  

“I'd love to.”

× × ×

Pleasure erupted throughout your entire body as Noah kneeled between your spread legs. His hands held tight to your hips, pulling you down to grind against him with every forward thrusting motion. He groaned above you, teeth gritted and jaw clenched, revealing to you all the work he was putting in. 

And boy did you feel it. 

You had already cum twice - once from his mouth and again from him bending you over the arm of the couch when neither of you could make it to your bedroom fast enough. 

Most of the time even you had to pray the wind was blowing in the right direction so you could cum in a timely manner, yet Noah had managed to get you there in near record time. 

“Fucking hell! Right there!” You cried out as his cock pierced just the right spot within your drenched and aching cunt. Heavy pants escaped from you, each breath becoming louder and more pronounced the harder he drove his hips. 

Noah’s tattooed fingers dug deep enough into your hips that you knew you'd have bruises the next morning. They'd match the bruise you'd have on your ass from when he had you bent over and administered quite a harsh spank. 

He released your hips so he could trail his hands down along your tense thighs, kneading and massaging into the flesh. One hand continued its downwards trek to your clit as the other drifted up, pausing at your neck. Slender fingers secured around your throat and applied enough pressure to cause your heart to race and your breath to hitch, though not enough to cause any worry. 

Why would you ever be worried about hooking up with a stranger and allowing him into the privacy of your home? 

Noah's thumb swirled around your clit, each pass over the nerves causing your thighs to twitch and your hips to buck. He was then leaning over you so he could capture your lips in a hungry kiss, so much so that you swore you heard him growl against your lips. Not that you were fazed by this. 

“Uh uh,” he scolded after parting from your lips to gaze down at you. “Eyes open.” 

To show how serious he was in this demand, his hand further tightened around your throat, short nails digging into the sensitive skin. You gasped for air but it was all too much; the overpowering ecstasy that coursed through your every being as you felt his cock throb inside of you, the rigid veins that stimulated the tight walls of your pussy, his thumb on your clit, his onyx eyes never drifting from yours. 

How were you to survive this night? 

Your body tensed and your lower back arched as you felt the first ripplings of your orgasm. Your third orgasm. Then - everything released. You writhed beneath him, eyes finally closing which was no choice of your own, all while his name and a mixture of other profanities echoed through the room. 

In the midst of your climax, your vision was hazy from the intensity, as well as the lack of oxygen greeting your brain. With every blink Noah’s face shifted; it went from the band frontman you had met that night to the dark stranger across the street earlier in the day, then back again, only to repeat the cycle. There was no way that's what was really happening, so you chalked it up to your overactive imagination and mostly drunken state. 

The mess you made meant nothing to you, nor did the added mess of his cum when he managed to meet his ending in tandem. Noah’s hips lost momentum gradually before stilling completely, though your cunt continued to collapse and clench around him until your body finally settled. 

It wasn’t much later that Noah laid sprawled across your bed, his face pressed to the pillow, breathing steady after drifting off to sleep. Unfortunately, you didn't have the same luxury. There was a darkness creeping into your mind, repeated phrases demanding things of you, things of which you had never considered before. 

“Do it,” the voice whispered in your ear. 

At first you assumed it was Noah by the brush of his hair on your face and the familiar grasp of his fingers around your waist. But when you glanced back, he hadn't moved a muscle. 

“It would be so easy…”

“You want to. I know you want to. I can smell it on you.” 

When your eyes opened, the blood red box from Nick’s shop sat at your side. It was unwrapped, the dagger staring up at you from its temporary home. Taunting. Begging. Screaming to be touched. 

You listened. 

Fingertips traced the metal of the handle, down to the tip of the dagger that remained sheathed. 

“Pick it up.”

The order from the disembodied voice was obeyed, the dagger soon resting in your grasp. Still, no one was in the room with you other than Noah’s sleeping form, so how did you feel a breath on your neck? 

Rubies embedded in the dagger shone before your eyes now that it was held up for you to admire. So beautiful. Just what you had been searching for all this time. 

“Do it.”

You knew what the voice was asking of you. You knew it would end in your demise. Yet, you felt no fear. If anything, you were…excited. Possibly even anxious for what was to come. 

“Do it!” The voice loudly rang out, deep and commanding in your mind. 

Both hands now gripped the handle of the dagger after you pulled it from its sheath.  Arms stretched out before you, the blade was perfectly angled just where you somehow knew it needed to end up. 

Right in your heart. 

“Do it! Now!”

With quick motion that held all of your strength, you impaled the dagger into your own chest. You could hear it break through the bone that protected your heart - your body no match to the power that lied within the weapon. 

“...going to the flames if you're on the end of the blade.” Nick's voice now penetrated your mind, a memory from hours ago. His words being that of the loosely translated curse that the dagger held. 

As soon as the blade punctured your chest, you felt a sense of clarity. You knew what the curse now was: die by way of the blade, go straight to Hell. 

Eyes wide, you looked down to the dagger protruding from you. Blood spilled from the wound, coating your naked body, staining your sheets. You tried to call out for Noah despite knowing he wouldn't be able to do anything to help you. 

Gathering what remained of your strength, which was next to none, you again glanced back to where you expected to see him sleeping. Instead, he was standing at the side of the bed, hands clasped behind his back, wearing the same smirk you had seen from the other Noah outside of Nicholas’ shop. 

In a blink you were then being cradled in his tattooed arms. His fingertips brushed your hair back from your face in the most loving of gestures, lips moving though you couldn't make out a thing he was saying. You couldn't hear anything. Couldn't feel anything. All you could do was allow yourself to be encased by the cold hands of death as it dragged you deeper and deeper down to the dismal abyss. 

“I'll see you on the other side, my love.”

× × ×

The forever night of the land taunted you as you gazed out the large window. Stars freckled the sky, twinkling and swirling cosmos in some spots, remaining still in most just as the night sky did back home. 

Home. 

Everyday that passed you forgot more and more what it looked like. 

You had remembered your death, all of your deaths, within minutes this time. Noah was beyond pleased, confessing that he always wondered if dying by your own hand was the trick though he had been nervous to see. Nervous to know what it would do to you. 

Well, now he knew. 

You were livid. Never had you felt so betrayed, and you made sure he was well aware of your anger towards him. Something told you that he felt it in your lack of appearances since you had yet to face him fully since arriving. 

“The Dark Lord has requested your presence today.”

A demon who had been appointed to your side ran a brush through your hair, gently ridding the strands of any tangles that had formed while you slept. You had told them day one that you could do it yourself but they insisted. Tending to you was now their duties and they had to do as commanded. 

“You can tell the Dark Lord to kiss my ass,” you mocked. 

The demon held back what you thought was the semblance of a chuckle, their unusually long fingers continuing to ready your hair for the day. 

“Forgive me for being so blunt, but I think it would be best if you spoke with him. Perhaps let your grievances out however you see fit?” 

Had you not done that the moment your memories returned? You very much recall throwing a heavy tea pot at his head, although he had dodged it with ease. Were your shouts of frustration not enough? Your tears? 

It wasn't that you were upset to be back with him. You were more so mad about how he had gotten you here this time. There had to be some other way that left out the whole dying part. 

“What's your name?” 

The demon paused briefly at your question. You could tell they had never been asked before, though you weren't sure if it was because everyone else here knew how things went or if no one simply cared. 

“I don't remember.” 

This confused you. Shifting a bit in your seat, you turned your upper body to look at the creature. They were definitely a sight to behold; scaly skin that glistened as if perpetually wet, yellow eyes with only the smallest white pupil appearing like a cat’s, a row of chipped horns going down the center of their head. 

You had stopped being scared of the demons here long ago. 

“Lowly demons, such as myself, lose their names upon becoming what we are. We are simply demon. The others, the ones you've probably heard of in some capacity within your mortal stories, are given new names when they become His strongest warriors.” 

Out of all of your ventures here, you had never been told about the inner workings of the land. You found it to be interesting. 

“Oh…” You felt silly for even asking, now also concerned that you had probably brought up a sore subject for the demon. No name? No identity? You couldn't imagine. 

Once the demon had somehow managed to weave deep red garnets and black diamonds into your hair, you were sent off to where Noah would be waiting. You tried to fight it, arms crossed over your chest as you sat pouting on the edge of the bed, but eventually the demon helped you realize that Noah would see you whether you wanted it or not. It was wise for you to go to him. 

And so you did. Like some sort of invisible string leading you to him, you managed to find him standing on the large balcony that jutted out from the castle, overlooking his land in silence. His posture straightened upon sensing your arrival, gaze now set only on you. 

“You look…” Onyx eyes raked up and down your body, no shame detected within them as he took in the black gown you had been instructed to put on. You didn’t want to admit to him the way his heavy stare made you feel. There was already a tingling in your lower stomach that radiated down between your thighs - no. You wouldn't fall for it that easily this time. 

“Don't,” you merely requested, a hand being held up to signal for him to stop any further words. Steps were then taken around him so you could approach the railing of the balcony, the carved stone cool beneath your touch as you tightly grasped it. 

“You're still angry…”

You said nothing. Silence overtaking you. 

“I…” he began, his voice falling while trying to gather his thoughts. Never had he been so concerned about anyone else before. Never had he been forced to wonder what the right thing would be to earn your forgiveness. 

“I'm sorry that things had to happen this way.”

Well, that weak excuse for an apology definitely made you want to yell at him to shove it up his ass. 

Your jaw clenched, knuckles turning white from the death grip you held on the stone railing. It would surely crack and splinter if any more of your strength was to be endured. 

“I liked your hair better longer,” you finally spoke, though you didn't look his way. Instead, your gaze remained focused out into the night, slowly cataloging and memorizing every dip and valley. 

“That you was nicer.”

Noah slowly shook his head as he reached out to lightly touch your hair, heated fingertips brushing the strands from your bare shoulder to reveal the curve of your neck. 

“Funny, because that was me, just in a slightly altered form to keep up appearances.”

As if he could read your thoughts, he continued. 

“I was never human, you know this. So, there are no other versions of me like there have been of you. There's only one. That's how it'll forever be.” 

Anger flared within you. “You're telling me…that you've been able to come to Earth this entire time? That I haven't needed to brutally die again and again to be with you? You are an insufferable mons-”

A strong hand grasped your arm, turning your body and pulling you in closer. You could tell that Noah wanted to speak to you as if you were one of his demons, someone for him to control, but he managed to contain his rage. 

“Do you know the danger I put my entire realm in just to walk amongst the living with you for an extended period of time? To go for my own selfish reasons and not because of my duties? To help guide you back to me? You're blind to the repercussions this land faced. Souls piled up, punishments halted, everything at a standstill. Do you think that has ever happened before?”

Silence as your eyes searched his. 

“We may have spent one night together on Earth, but the sheer amount of deaths within that singular night that went unprocessed…” 

Noah shuddered at the thought, his grip on you then loosening before releasing completely. 

“Think of me what you will, but what I did was for us. Everything I've done, and will do again and again, for us.”

You wanted to understand. You wanted to touch his face and tell him everything was okay. You wanted to press yourself into him and let his warmth overtake you. 

You wanted so many things, but none of it was what you did. 

Instead of giving into these wants and needs, you gave him one last look and then turned on your heel to saunter back into the farthest reaches of the castle. 

× × ×

The only thing you truly despised about this place was the lack of time. While you had an abundance of it, more than you could ever ask for, you still had no idea how much had passed. Days? Months? Hell, maybe a century? Time didn't work the same way here as it did on Earth, which you already knew, but it surely did drag when you were choosing to spend it alone. 

You had attempted to keep track of it at the beginning but eventually gave up when nothing fit the way it should have in your human mind. Noah even offered to set a sleep schedule, though that disappeared rather fast when his duties became too much to juggle along with it. 

A heavy sigh expelled from you as you flipped over onto your back. Your eyes stared through the darkness of your bedroom and up to the high ceiling where the same stars as the night sky beyond the open window danced along. A neat little trick Noah did when he knew you were restless. He may have been an asshole but he knew how to make you melt when showing his softer side. A side no one had ever seen before you. 

With another huff, you caved. 

Moments later you were standing in front of his bedroom door after having gently knocked. The door opened almost immediately, revealing his relaxed form sitting upon a grandeur bed with papers strewn about. It was always funny to see him do actual work especially when you had never witnessed anyone outside of the demons wandering the halls. 

Sometimes you'd hear other voices when he was locked away in his study, but nothing beyond that. 

“Stars didn't work?” 

You twisted your lips, head shaking in a single motion. 

“They're nice - beautiful - but it's not the same as…” you trailed off for a moment while trying to decide how much of your pride you were willing to spill down the drain. Not the same as when we're laying together. 

Noah noticed, he knew what you were going to say. He allowed you to keep the stubborn pride for now. In a snap the papers cleared away from a spot on the bed for you, an invitation to join him. 

Sitting against him, your knees bent to the side and your head resting on his shoulder, he continued to work. He would occasionally look over at you, brush your hair back, lightly touch your lips or cheek, then focus again. 

How you had managed to wrap Death around your finger, you would never know. 

“Can I ask a question?” 

Noah nodded, the paper in his hand being placed down so he could fully focus on you now. Another thing you loved about him: he never made you feel as if your presence was a bother. No matter what he was in the middle of. 

“Is this how you've always looked? Or do you only appear like this to me?” 

A crooked smile appeared on his features, his eyes crinkling in the corners just as you remembered from your brief time on Earth with him. 

“Why do you ask?” 

Avoidance - as usual. 

“I don't know…I mean, when it comes to humans, you are either shown as a skeleton in robes or this otherworldly beautiful man without flaws.” You shrugged. 

You didn't add on that you were also curious as to what was real. 

Noah didn't taunt you for your poor wording choice. He knew he was beautiful and he knew that you also knew this, but he understood what you meant. 

“Technically,” he began while rubbing his chin as if trying to find the right way to describe it to you, “I'm without a body because what I am transcends physical being.” 

Okay, that you could understand, at least for the most part. Was it still an odd thought? Yes, of course. All of this was odd. 

“But I've chosen to take on a flesh and blood form, even before you came along the first time. It helps to do so in my line of work…so the souls can relate, maybe feel a bit of comfort for a brief moment.” 

As he spoke you traced random designs and patterns into the top of his thigh, your fingertip slowly dragging along the soft material of his pants. You inwardly smirked to yourself when you noticed him shiver as your fingers traveled higher along his inner thigh. 

“I may have adjusted a few things specifically for you, though.” 

“That's why you have all the tattoos?” Your hand left his thigh so you could lightly touch the front of his neck, eyes focused on the inked designs that were quite an interesting choice for him. The religious visuals weren't lost on you - you knew why he had chosen those in particular. A cruel mocking to those above. A middle finger to the “Light Ones” who were always trying to act all better-than-thou. 

You didn't tell him that this was quite a human response just to spare you the glare he would surely respond with. 

“And the lisp?” You further teased, a smile finally gracing your lips again. 

“Again - makes me relatable.”

You hummed in thought, watching him as he watched you. Noah had yet to return to his work meaning he knew there was more you wanted to say. And while this was true, you were more so transfixed by how close you two were. You could feel his breath on your face and see the patterns of different brown shades within his irises, both combined drawing you closer and closer until finally your lips collided with his. 

Were you still mad at him? Yes, very much so, but that didn't change the feelings you had for him. The tether between you was far too strong, probably impossible to snap. 

Noah didn't waste any time as your kiss deepened and intensified. He leaned back into the pillows of his bed, drawing you with him until your body almost completely covered his. You touched along his face and down his chest, eager fingers tugging and pushing at the shirt he wore. You needed him now. 

There were moments when you both liked to take your time, each unwrapping the other like a precious gift, fully savoring the anticipation. Then there were times when it was impatient and needy, as if you couldn't get him inside of you fast enough. Simply a blur of hands until you were both naked without the pesky barriers of clothes getting in the way of your desires.

One guess as to which side you were both currently feeling. 

As your clothes were stripped away, flimsy lace being tossed aside, you further crawled on top of him. Knees pressed down onto either side of his hips, your nails scratching along his inked chest before firmly grasping his broad shoulders. The kiss you shared had yet to cease, both of you kissing the other with a desperate need; sweeping tongues and clashing of teeth. 

Noah released your hips to cup your breasts within his large hands, thumbs skimming and circling your sensitive nipples to pull a faint whimper from you. Chills formed over your heated skin, your teeth roughly sinking into his lower lip that caused him to hiss and pinch your nipples in return. 

“Behave,” he lowly threatened while you could only pout in response. 

Both hands then fell from your chest; one dropped to begin pushing his last article of clothing down as the other gripped tight into your hair. Noah roughly yanked your head to the side to further expose your neck, his lips immediately kissing a hot trail to your jaw. He knew exactly what teasing your neck did to you, arousal pooling between your thighs as you needily whimpered for him. 

“And you thought you'd be able to stay away.” 

You wanted to knee him right in the side for the petty comment, but he was already adjusting your position and tugging you higher up on his hips so you could hover above his hard cock. 

Noah smirked against your skin, his tongue flicking at the sensitive spot right below your ear. The moment his teeth nipped at the same spot he pushed your hips down so the wide swollen head of his cock could force through your tight entrance. You gasped and he groaned in unison, his own muscles straining from the vice grip your cunt already had on him. 

“I can stay away,” you countered. “I just didn't want to.”

The devilish gleam returned to his eyes while gazing up at you, knowing that deep down you also knew you couldn't stay away. It didn't matter what your stubborn protest said. 

Releasing your hair, both of Noah’s hands held tight to your hips. You were still trying to adjust to his size, slowly easing yourself down another inch, but he was clearly much more impatient than you were. This was proven when he forced your hips all the way down until they sat flush against his, the entirety of his cock tunneling through your pussy. Of course how wet you were helped, but nothing could ease the tight stretch. 

Your head tossed back as you released a loud moan, all other thoughts leaving your mind except for those of him. Sharp nails dug so deep into his chest that you swore you would draw blood - not that Noah would care. 

“Good girl,” the Dark Lord rasped. 

His impatience didn't end there. Although he wanted to be kind and let you find your bearings, there was truly no need when he was well aware that you liked things just as he did: rough, animalistic, whatever you wanted to call it. 

Keeping you steady atop him, his hips thrusted up from the bed in rapid succession, angling just right to make sure your body quivered and your cries of pleasure never ceased. Noah loved watching you come undone for him, loved seeing your stubbornness overtaken by your pure need for the sensations that only he could give you. Everything about it, from the sounds you made to the way your face contorted in pleasure, was addicting. 

You could barely contain yourself as he continued to drive his throbbing cock straight up into you. Your pussy fluttered, more and more of your arousal slipping free until it ran down his length and helped aid in his endeavors to completely ruin you. Noah knew that you were already close, he could tell by the way your moans became more frequent and heightened in pitch. 

“That's it,” he grunted as his hands tightened around your waist and he forced you down to roughly meet the upward thrusts of his hips. “Let go.”

As if on command, your body seized and your back arched. An orgasm ripped through you, claiming full control as you trembled and your hips jerked, the pleasure so intense that you couldn't even make a sound. 

Noah had no intentions of stopping, though. He settled down against the bed, still buried as deep as possible within the warmth of your climaxing cunt. His grip fell from your waist to your hips, now guiding you in a back and forth grind to keep you overstimulated and whimpering for him. 

“You're so fucking beautiful when you cum for me.” 

In a swift motion he had you on your back, the papers from his work crunching beneath you, some digging into your skin but it was of no concern to you right then. You were basking in the high of your orgasm, well aware that there was more to come. Noah never stopped at just one. He had to bring you as close to breaking as he possibly could before he was satisfied. Sometimes that could be done in as little as two rounds and sometimes you were at it for hours until you had lost count of your orgasms and forming any sort of coherent thought was impossible. 

Not daring to pull out from your warmth, Noah brought one of your legs over so your lower half twisted for him, leaving you open and vulnerable but still capable of seeing each other. You quivered as you felt the thick rigid veins that lined his cock throb when they shifted within you, every inch of you sensitive from the orgasm you were still coming down from. 

Noah had a hold of your ass in one hand and your thigh in the other to make sure you remained right where he wanted you as he slowly pulled out until just the head of his cock remained. Then, he used every bit of strength he had to thrust right back into you, the pace being set slow but impossibly hard. Your jaw clenched and your toes curled, your body barely able to handle what Noah presented to you. 

You shook your head, squeaks and whimpers of words unsaid escaping from your throat. He knew what he was doing to you, though. He knew exactly what angles to fuck you from that would leave you dumb - for lack of a better term. 

“Is it too much for you, my love?” He taunted, a mock sympathetic tone to his voice. 

To show that he didn't care, he only picked up his speed, the driving force behind his hips remaining relentless. The harsh slap as your bodies collided sounded through the room, followed by a piercing smack when his strong hand came down upon your ass cheek, mixing with your symphony of moans. Your walls ached and burned but you didn't dare request he stop, not even for a moment, though you didn't truly want him to. You loved when he would get like this, a sort of sadistic gleam flaring in his dark eyes despite trying to pleasure you to the best of his abilities. 

“Touch yourself.” 

The demand made you whine under your breath. Noah knew what he was doing. You managed to slip your hand down between your clamped thighs, a fingertip brushing the swollen nerves ever so softly, but it was enough to make your body twitch and your cunt clamp tighter around his cock. His brows pulled together, the hold he had on you tightening. 

It was too much. Your body was so sensitive, and touching your clit was that mixture of pleasure and pain that made your abdomen muscles tense and your hips writhe. 

“I didn't say to stop,” Noah hissed through gritted teeth. How he had known you paused your fingers over your clit, you weren't sure, but you quickly obeyed his demand again. 

“N-Noah…” you whimpered, tears brimming your eyes and threatening to spill over. You looked up at him through your watery vision, though you were still able to make out the smirk he wore upon his flushed cheeks. Not even the damp strands of dark hair could cover that look in his eyes as he gazed down at you, enamored with all that you were. 

“Uh uh,” he shook his head. “If you stop, then so do I.” 

Fuck. That was the last thing you wanted. It may have been too much and overwhelming but you were desperate to cum again. Not only that, but you needed to feel him filling you as well. You needed his cum seeping out of you, warming you from the inside out. Breathing a life into you that was ironic for Death. 

His grip remained tight on your thigh though his other hand slithered up to knead at your breast, his fingers digging into your flesh, pinching and tugging your nipple. You were getting close again, so so close. As your own fingers continued to rub your clit, each stroke sending electric shocks through you, you released moan after moan, crying out his name in pleasure. 

“Next time we should place a bet on how long you can go without my dick,” he spoke through his own groans, the strain evident in his voice. 

Noah released your breast and instead secured his long tattooed fingers around your throat. His grip was tight, a silent reminder that he could easily crush your airways if he ever had the desire to do so. Which he didn't - he would never lay a hand on you in ways you didn't beg for - but the danger of it, the possibility, radiated down to your core and helped build your oncoming climax. 

“I know you're constantly needy for it. I can smell your arousal when I'm near, so sweet and intoxicating…” 

His voice was raw and deep, each word sending you closer to the edge. Every touch to your body felt like a flame licking your skin, tears still welling in your eyes, your cunt desperate for both your release and his. 

“Please…” you begged in a breathless whisper as your fingers circled your clit in a messy rhythm, unable to get pace with his brutal pounding. 

Noah’s lips twitched within his lingering smirk when your pleas met his ears, the sound causing his cock to twitch and his hips to snap in a quick succession into you. 

A single nod was given, allowing you the gift of an orgasm, and also letting you know that even he couldn't find his words anymore. He was far too focused on the tight grip of your pussy that was swallowing him deeper, almost like he could hear it begging for his cum. If that didn't feed his already oversized ego, then nothing would. 

The pressure built until you couldn't stand it anymore. Your fingers and toes tingled, a white hot heat exploding throughout the entirety of your body as you were overcome with your orgasm. Sharp nails raked down his forearm, skin breaking in their path and sullying the tattoos, though you knew it would heal rapidly. Your cunt erupted in a rush that soaked the sheets and also managed to push Noah right over the edge with you. Typically he had better control, but sometimes it was even too much for him. 

“Fuck…you're so good at taking it, you always are.” 

A final thrust had him emptying inside of you, feeding you that particular warmth you had been desperate for. You hummed in delight, your eyes heavy lidded but focused solely up on him so you could witness his undoing. Noah’s eyes closed and brows furrowed, his jaw falling slack as your name was groaned from him once, twice, three times. You could feel his muscular thighs trembling and you just knew he was trying his best not to collapse on you from the power of his orgasm and also the workout he had just put himself through. 

Neither of you had fully calmed before he was leaning down and forcing his lips to yours. He held firm to your chin for the duration of the hungry kiss, though it didn't last nearly as long as you would have preferred. 

Breaking from the kiss, Noah sat back up so he could slowly withdraw from your depths. He groaned at the sight of your mixed finishes dripping free, only to gently slide two fingers into your pussy with the gathered cum so you didn't lose a drop. You whimpered at the feeling, legs now spread in front of him and knees shaking. 

“Noah,” you murmured in a faint whine. “I can't.” 

Your protest didn't stop his fingers from slowly working their way in and out of your sore pussy, the strokes gentle but still overwhelming. 

“I know, my love, I just wanted to see those tears again.” 

And tears you had - a couple of stray drops falling down your cheeks, mixing with the sweat that you both exuded. 

Only when he was satisfied did he remove his fingers, just to bring them to your awaiting lips. As if on instinct you pulled them into your mouth, cheeks hollowing and tongue swirling around his inked digits to clean his cum and yourself from them. 

“Good girl.” 

Thankfully, Noah let you rest. He easily could've gone again and again but he knew you were merely a mortal (undead or not) and he didn't want the fine line between pleasure and strictly pain to be crossed. Experiencing both was one thing, something you both enjoyed and gave consent to, but forcing you to entertain only the latter for his own selfish needs was not desirable to him. 

You drifted in and out of restful sleep as you curled into Noah’s side. Your head rested upon his chest, legs tangled, his strong arm encompassing you and keeping you close. The featherlight touch of his fingertips trailing up and down your arm brought goosebumps forward, though the loving affection had you luling to sleep again. That is, until he spoke what had been plaguing his mind. 

“They're going to come for you,” he murmured, a sadness in his voice. “The Light Ones.” 

A slight sound escaped you, your head slowly shaking. Your own arm circled around his bare torso, now hugging yourself even closer to his form. Even though he was Death, something everyone feared, he had always brought a sense of peace over you. 

“Why do you let them?” 

In the past Noah had protested when they'd come for you; he would yell and threaten and make them force you away from him if they were going to take you. Never did he truly fight, though. 

A deep inhale caused your head to drift up, and then slowly back down when he exhaled. You knew he was trying to find how to word his response in a way you would understand, or at least so he wouldn’t inadvertently offend you. 

“Because at least then I know I'll see you again. If I fight, go to war for you, the Light Ones could end your bloodline completely.” 

“As in…”

“You would cease to exist. No other versions. No rebirths. I'd only have my memories of you to keep me going for the rest of eternity.” 

All of that for one lousy human? That was the main thing that had always confused you. You didn't understand why you being with Noah was so frowned upon. Why they wanted to make him suffer. Why they were determined to keep you apart. What sort of threat did his happiness pose? 

“It's not 'normal’ for us to love because it's not what we were created for, especially not me. The Light Ones claim to have love for all, whereas I'm supposed to be the other side of the coin - the hate.” Noah took in another deep breath as if explaining it all to you physically pained him. Having to admit what his purpose was…it brought him hurt, and in turn, that hurt you. 

“So for me to love, and to place all that love in one person, it makes me…” he paused and his arm around you tightened. 

“It makes us dangerous.” 

This is when you tilted your head up to look at him. Your eyes met and you offered a gentle smile, one to show him that you understood, but that didn't mean you had to accept it. You wouldn't. Not anymore. 

“I'm tired of only being able to see you in death,” you softly spoke. Your fingertips grazed slowly along the underside of his jaw and then down the curve of his neck, your gaze following the trail. When you got to the snake you paused, your nail lightly tracing the outline. “I want to fight.” 

Noah shook his head and soon his hand clasped around your own, your fingers intertwining together. “I won't risk losing you forever. I can't.” 

“And I will,” you challenged, your voice stern. “What you do here in your realm should be none of their concern. You're the fucking King, remember? Or have you already forgotten yelling that at me millenia ago?” 

The faintest of smirks tugged at the corners of his lips - of course he remembered. Noah remembered every minute, every second, that he has ever spent with you. Nothing could take those memories from him. 

“We'll discuss this further in the morning, after you've slept and had some breakfast.” 

With that, Noah blew the candle out on the conversation. The dark now surrounded you both, only the twinkling of the stars he had summoned able to be seen on the ceiling above. 

[just-a-ghost00]

Short PAC - Which powerful being would like to reach out to you?

Group 1 - Rhea titan of fertility and motherhood

What are they helping you with? - Judgment

-> self evaluation, spiritual awakening, assessing situations and people, renewal, finding your purpose, self doubts, self loathing, learning your lessons

What do they want you to know? - queen of wands, 3 of wands , 6 of wands

If you do the work and reassess all in your life, including your own behavior and beliefs, great opportunities will come your way. We’re talking about travels, recognition, fame to some extent. There’s an expansion waiting for you to be honest with yourself and stop being fearful of your own power. Rhea’s mothering energy accompanies you on your journey to fulfillment on all levels, especially when it comes to the love and recognition you have for yourself. You may be attracting more people into your life, including romantic prospects and business partners, sometimes both at the same time. You will be feeling yourself. Rhea is saying "it doesn’t have to be painful and drastic for it to work out". Meaning you can take things one step at a time and doing spiritual work isn’t as big of a thing as you’d think. Sometimes people may be fearful of change because they think it will ask of them great sacrifice and will cause a lot of pain. When change can just be as simple as walking your dog for a few minutes every day or drinking water as soon as you wake up. Don’t neglect the little things.

Group 2 - Aether god of the upper air and light

What are they helping with? - The Emperor

-> daddy issues, masculinity, sex appeal, discipline, structure, stability, leadership, responsibility, power struggles, being in control of your narrative, boundaries, focus, stubbornness

What do they want you to know? - The Moon, The Magician, knight of wands

There’s someone that’s been trying to manifest you into their life. A masculine energy. You have no idea who they are. I mean you may know this person but you would never suspect that they are interested in you. If you let yourself be guided by Aether’s wisdom, you will heal all wounds caused by masculines in your past in order to let this person in. You will also be able to access more knowledge in general, especially about this person. You will be able to manifest anything you desire, be it a job offer, a relationship, a new home, having a baby or healing from anything you are struggling with. You will also be able to transmute your fears regarding intimacy and flirting. "This guy won’t run anywhere" Aether means to tell. "He’s stuck with you anyway."

Group 3 - Susanoo god of storms and lightning

What do they help with? - The Empress

-> mommy issues, femininity, sensuality, fertility, creativity, beauty, insecurities, overbearing responsibilities, smothering, lack of self confidence, being over indulgent

What do they want you to know? - 2 of pentacles, 9 of pentacles, 3 of wands

If you’ve been juggling between different projects or people, Susanoo is here to clear the path. If you can’t choose, a choice will be made for you. Whatever happens, you will move on and be successful. This would be true especially with anything related to your finances or your career. If there was a period of instability previously, things will get better in the future, for abundance is coming your way. There could be travel opportunities for you as well. I feel like Susanoo is urging you to leave certain people behind. "The wind will carry you where you must go, if you ever choose to sail away." The fresh air that’s about to enter your life is his doing. "You’ll thank me later. Though you might not be happy about it at first." Brace yourself, Winter is coming.

[nikethestatue]

When She Said 'Beautiful'

Well everyone. Thank you for joining me for my impromptu Elain Archeron Week.

I hope you enjoyed my little fics this week. Here is the last one. I hope you like it. Long live Elriel!

All her life, Elain Archeron was usually told what she needed to do. Father, mother, Nesta, Feyre, Graysen, Nesta, Feyre, Nesta…

Her entire life, she’s heard ‘you should’ and ‘you have to’ and ‘you must’ and ‘it would be better if you did’ and ‘because I told you to’ and ‘are you listening?’ and ‘you need to’. And to keep the peace in her fractured family, she did what she was told. She hated it most of the time, but she did it.

She supposed that on some level, she was so used to it that when someone–namely Azriel–offered her a choice, she almost didn’t know what to do with that. 

“Would you like me to show you the garden?” he’d asked.

She stood there, stupefied.

It wasn’t ‘let’s go to the garden’ or ‘we are going to the garden’ or even ‘I am taking you to the garden’. No. It was a polite and gentle offer. Would she like him to do this for her? 

She knew that it was ridiculous that she should be so taken aback by the offer, and that it should confound her so, but she couldn’t help it. 

This incredibly handsome man, this tall, powerful, strong warrior, this spymaster (she wasn’t even sure exactly what that meant, but it sounded important and mysterious) had offered to take her to the garden. How did he even know that that’s where she’d like to go? Did Feyre tell him that she loved gardening and watching things grow and bloom? Why would he assume that what Elain wanted the most was warmth and greenery and the scent of flowers permeating the air? That the garden was her solace and the place where she felt most at home? Graysen never understood, though he indulged her. What did this Fae warrior understand about her, and with such acute precision, that he’d immediately thought to take her to the one place where she’d thrive?

Elain didn’t know what to make of it, but she knew one thing–she’d rather spend time with the massive Fae warrior who was dressed in full armour and usually swathed in shadows, than with anyone else.

Therefore, the decision was simple–she nodded.

Once.

A small smile brightened his already-stunning face, and then he extended his arm to her.

His hands…

She’d noticed them the first time he dined at her house. There were the leather cuffs that had a string looping over his middle finger, and massive blue jewels were embedded within the cuffs. The same blue jewels gleamed at his shoulders, and three were placed in a row at his sternum. She didn’t think that these were simple decorations, considering that she felt a sort of magical pull that came off in waves from these stones. How she felt that, she wasn’t sure. 

But the stones weren’t what she’d noticed first. It was the shape of his huge hands–big, but narrow, with long, powerful fingers, clean, well-tended nails, and a layer of awful burn scars that covered his palms, fists, extending up to his forearms. 

After that first dinner, did Elain have impure, prohibited thoughts about his hands?

Indeed she had.

She kept it to herself, of course. She was an engaged woman. And she loved Graysen. But when she’d met Azriel, she was still a maid, untouched. While it would’ve been prudent to think of her fiance, and desire his touch, for many nights after the dinner, she thought of an entirely different pair of hands. She wondered what it would feel like to have Azriel brush the scarred skin against her skin. What his fingers would feel like, if he’d touched her. How strong would his grip be? And if he stroked her…intimately, then…

“Beautiful,” she blurted.

She held his hand in hers and looked at the callouses and the scars, and couldn’t think of anything else but ‘beautiful’ to describe his hands. 

His hands were beautiful. But then all of him was–he was attractive in a way that only a Fae could be. Seductive and strong, tall and muscular, and the great wings peeking behind his back only added to his enormity. She felt small standing before him. Breakable. Despite his formidable presence though, Elain knew with utmost certainty that she had nothing to fear from him. He’d never hurt her. 

She could feel Feyre’s surprised gaze on them, when her sister heard her say ‘beautiful’, but Elain chose to ignore her. 

What she couldn’t ignore was how Azriel’s sharp, high cheekbones coloured a faint pink and he looked down at her with an expression of such grateful adoration, she felt like his world began and ended with her. And she liked it. Graysen never looked at her like that. 

Azriel took her by the hand and gently tugged her along. 

Upon her initial inspection, the garden needed quite a bit of work. It was only nominally kept up, and whoever did it, didn’t actually know what they were doing. It was the middle of summer and if it were her garden, it would’ve been in full bloom now. 

Azriel brought her to a shaded spot, where there was a wrought iron set of a table and chairs. He pulled the chair for her and she sat down. 

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, surprising her.

She’d assumed that he’d set her up here and then leave, but instead, he sat across from her, without waiting for an answer.

“Please,” she whispered. 

“Please bring the lady some tea,” he said and Elain looked around, in confusion. 

Suddenly, a tall, slender, dark wraith-like woman materialised in front of them. 

“Morning Cerridwen,” Azriel said, while Elain watched in amazement as his shadows flooded the space around him, and covered him so thickly, he was barely visible.

“Tea, m’lady?” Cerridwen confirmed.

“If it’s no bother,” Elain agreed.

“No bother at all. I’ll bring you and the lord a cup.”

And then, the woman just…walked through the wall and disappeared. Elain’s breath caught in her throat and she gawked at the wall, expecting it to crumble for some reason, but of course it stood unchanged. 

“She is a wraith,” Azriel explained simply, like this was absolutely normal information. As if wraiths were expected to simply walk through walls. But Elain guessed that in Prythian, maybe it was normal indeed. 

“She has a twin sister, Nuala. They take care of Rhysand’s household and assist me with various tasks and projects. And she knows not to call me ‘lord’.”

“Are you not a lord?” Elain confirmed. If anyone were, she’d think it would’ve been Azriel. He held himself like a lord. Regal and powerful and strong and a bit scary. 

“I am not,” he said, and then, Elain watched his shadows just disappear at once. Like they were never there. Though in front of him, she now saw a stack of folders and papers. 

“Where…where did they go?” Elain whispered, trying to process all the strange things that she’s been seeing today.

Azriel looked around, as if only now noticing that the shadows were gone.

“I don’t need them right now,” he told her. 

“Do they just leave? Or do you tell them to go?”

“Usually they don’t leave,” he said, propping his head on his hand and leaning back in the chair. He watched her, as she sat ramrod straight, her fingers nervously tracing the patterns on the table. 

“They watch over me, and won’t leave unless they are certain that I am completely safe,” he chuckled. 

She hummed under her breath, processing his words. 

“So they think you are completely safe with me?” she asked at last. “You aren’t scared of me?”

He chuckled and shook his head, “No. I am not afraid of you. But it’s less about how I feel. The shadows, they are pure magic–they sense danger in a way that we cannot. I might feel safe, but if they don’t, they’d swirl in my vicinity.”

“So they don’t feel that I am a danger to you?”

“It would appear so. I guess both they and I trust you.” He smiled at that, watching her. “Are we wrong to think that?” he asked her, voice stern.

She glared at him in shock and rapidly shook her head.

“No, no, I…No, I am,”

“He is teasing you,” the wraith–Cerridwen–appeared at Elain’s side, silent and discrete. She placed a tea set on the table and then gave Azriel an unamused look.

He chuckled at her scrutiny.

“Don’t listen to him, m’lady,” Cerridwen recommended. “The lord has a wicked sense of humour. Or at least, he thinks that he is funny.”

“Oh, that’s very harsh, Cer,” Azriel joked and even Elain couldn’t help but smile. Cerridwen ignored him and poured tea into the dainty cups. “It’s nice to meet you, m’lady,” she said at last. “I do believe that we shall be very good friends.”

Azriel felt Feyre’s eyes on him. He didn’t care. 

For the first time in months, he felt…wonderful. He could’ve pretended that he didn’t know why that was, but that would be a lie. He felt like this because of one reason, and one reason only–the present company. 

Why Elain? Why her? Why did she make him feel the way that she did? He had no idea. There wasn’t a logical answer. Only that he felt a pull to her from the moment they’d met and for whatever reason, being near her made all the difference in the world to him. 

He didn’t care what Feyre and Rhys gossiped about. He was happy. For once.

Elain drank her tea quietly, but he couldn’t help but notice the glances that she threw his way. Curious glances. Welcoming glances. Timid, but fearless glances. 

He noticed and catalogued all of them, even if she had no idea. But he would keep them in his mind forever. 

The thing that drove him crazy right now was unexpected. 

It was something that he hadn’t experienced before and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. If someone would ask, he wouldn’t know how to describe it. The best he could come up with is there was a primal need inside of him, bubbling to the surface of his consciousness. 

The need to show her his wings. 

Why? What was that about?

If he could articulate it, he would, but he desperately needed to show them off to her. 

Maybe, because all Fae were animals of some kind and his beast was a winged creature of teeth and claws, but he needed to impress his female with the breadth of his wingspan.

She wasn’t his though. She belonged to another. 

And he wasn’t even sure how she felt about her mate. 

But Azriel’s wings twitched and his back itched with need, and before he could stop himself, he let them loose. They sprung out of his back and stretched above him, the sun’s rays nice and warm on the leathery surface.

Elain watched the display in awed fascination. 

He noticed a pale pink blush crawl from beneath her dress up to her neck and then her cheeks, until she was properly red faced. Her eyes were big, pupils dilated so widely, her eyes seemed almost entirely brown. She licked her lips, watching him without blinking, her pulse shuddering rapidly on her neck. 

So she liked it then?

He twisted his wing a little towards her, and she gasped softly, tugging on her long braid and making herself pretty for him without realising that she was doing it. She bit her lips, plumping them up, until they were red and ripe. The sleeve of her dress rolled down her arm, baring it for him, and she did not cover it back up. 

“What is a mate?” she suddenly asked him, her voice soft, but unusually husky for her.

He was so surprised by the query, he wasn’t sure if he heard her right. 

“Pardon?” was all he could ask.

“What is it? What is a mate?” she repeated.

“Your sister didn’t tell you?”

She shook her head. 

“A mate…” he thought about it. 

What was a mate?

He’d seen a few matings in his lifetime. 

Rhys’s parents for one–a miserable union, but it produced two amazing offspring, in Rhysand and Seline. Then Rhys himself, mated to Feyre, and seemingly blissfully happy now, though it was still early. An unrequited, unaccepted mate bond between Amarantha and Tamlin, which ultimately resulted in a murderous obsession. Drakon and Myriam–a love so strong that he brought her back from the dead and fell in love with her while she was a mortal half-Fae. The newest bond was one between Lucien and Elain–Lucien, who was deemed worthy to be bonded to Elain, while Azriel was not.

“I honestly don’t know,” Azriel admitted.

She cocked her head and watched him for a while, before saying, 

“Who decides?”

“I suppose the Cauldron. It finds souls that it feels would match well together and gives them a mate bond.”

“Am I supposed to feel something?”

“Hmmm,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “A pull, I think. A need. A desire for your mate. A craving that remains unsatisfied. The need to protect, to care, to satisfy your mate.”

Elain listened without commenting. She then took a long sip of her tea and finally said,

“Is mine broken then?”

Azriel was perplexed.

“Broken? How do you mean?”

“Is my bond broken?” she insisted. “Because I feel nothing. I don’t want to please my mate. I don’t desire him. I don’t even want to see him. Even the memory of his visage irritates me.”

Azriel was a bit shocked by her candour, but he didn’t know what to say.

Bonds were complex things and he was no expert.

Years ago, when he was in love with Morrigan, he thought that a bond would snap for the two of them. But then decades passed, and eventually centuries, and nothing happened. 

“I wish I could help you, but I cannot. I don’t know why you feel the way you feel about Lucien,” he admitted at last.

She sighed and inhaled the scent of lilacs that perfumed the garden.

“Can you be my mate?” she then inquired, looking straight at him.

Azriel’s hand jerked so hard, his papers scattered on the ground.

“I am sorry?”

“Can you be my mate?” Elain repeated. “If I am to have a mate, I would want to choose mine,”

“It doesn’t work that way,” he argued. “You cannot choose your mate. They are given to you.”

“What if I wish to deny him and choose you instead?” Elain pressed. 

“You…you would do that?” he whispered.

“If I am to have a Fae mate, then I would like for it to be you,” she confirmed, her voice uncommonly steady. “And if it’s not you, I shouldn’t want a mate.”

Azriel did not respond.

He watched her, this strange quiet girl, who would choose him. Against all odds. For some reason, she would choose him. 

And I'd choose you too, he thought. In any age, and in any world, I know I’d choose you

“I am very happy that you survived Hybern,” she murmured, her eyes glazed and unfocused. “Very happy. You needed to survive. For me.”

[artdcnaldson]

ok i am coming in hot with my last thought on patricks sister au for the day, because it is bedtime lol. but here it is. (also gonna start signing these off as an emojicon, because i lowkey need validation and credit for this au actually lol)

i feel like at first he would be lowkey confused why youre getting turned on when youre being called pathetic??? but you really are just depraved and so desperate for him. anything he says to you is music to your ears. so you keep rubbing yourself in his bed. he tells you that you can think about him all you want, but you can never have him. it cant happen. you can never have his cock. patrick is too important to him, he would kill the both of you.

he gets kind of lost in it, forgets to keep that distance, he ends up sitting at the opposite edge of the bed. looking right at you. but never touching you. god you're so pretty like this. he asks you how often you do this, touch yourself to the thought of him. he really shouldnt be indulging you like this. he shouldnt be playing into your hand. he just cant help it, your sounds are so sweet, moaning his name so lightly. he really cant help it when his hand falls to his lap. its totally out of his control when his hand starts palming himself. how could he not be hard? youre as good as naked in his bed, touching yourself, moaning his name and begging, pleading him to touch you, to fuck you, to do anything at all.

and when his hand slip into his boxers? he tries to convince himself not to, to put an end to this. it really isnt right. but on the other hand... its not like hes touching you. is it really that wrong if hes not even touching you at all? surely not. he lets himself indulge, just a little. but to outweigh, he tells you to stop touching yourself. maybe its a punishment for you, maybe it just for his own pleasure. he watches you as you pull your hand back up, eyes fixed on his own hand stroking himself under his boxers. he sees the excitement flicker in your eyes, you think youre getting what you want. you think hes finally going to fuck you. youre wrong.

he tells you to get off the bed, sit on the floor, between his legs. kneeling right in front of him, big puppy eyes, desperately flickering between his face and his hand moving slowly beneath the fabric. he cant help but laugh to himself when he sees youre grinding yourself on your heel, anything to get some friction. he swears he sees drool spill out of your mouth as you stare at him.

maybe he just makes you sit there for a while, staring at him, begging him. maybe it just ends with that, he keeps you there long enough to ensure he'll be able to picture it later when hes alone. maybe thats all, he tells you to go to sleep, you whine and almost cry, until he threatens to send you back to your own room.

or maybe.... just maybe.... and hear me out on this... maybe he makes you sit on your hands to make sure you wont touch him, because that would be breaking the rules. and maybe he tells you to beg him to let you see his cock, beg him to take it out, tell him just how bad you want to see it, need to see it. maybe he is so intoxicated on the feeling of being so desired that you would do anything he asked. maybe he pulls it out, he lets you watch as he stroke himself. ugh maybe he makes you spit in his hand so he can jerk off with your spit :(((( maybe he tells you to move closer, still no touching, but he wants your face all up close. you're not letting this opportunity slip away, you follow his every word, every movement. maybe he makes you thank him, thank him for letting you watch him get off. maybe he even lets you lick his cum off his hand when hes done.

or maybe not, maybe he just tells you to shut up and go to sleep. :)))

-🐞 (if it's not taken by anyone)

GODDDDDD you deserve all the definition credit acclaim bc this is some good fucking food

It’s unfair how good you look in his bed. It’s unfair that you’re laid out like a fucking meal for him, rubbing your sensitive clit and moaning like a pornstar while he’s saying shit that should be making you run away.

He sits down on the bed— his bed— and he can feel how you’re moving through the mattress. It makes him think of those commercials where they jump on the bed and the wineglass doesn’t move, except his shitty dorm bed is the opposite.

You’re panting, mouth open so he can see the pink of your tongue. A constant stream of moans and whines and gasps of Art and Please falling from your lips.

He shouldn’t ask. Patrick would fucking crucify him. Would flay him alive for even thinking it. But he does. “How often do you think of me when you’re fucking yourself?”

You meet his gaze, only briefly before your eyes flutter shut and you’re bucking against your fingers. “Every time. Just need you so bad, Art.”

“You don’t need me, you want me. And you’re so fucking spoiled by your rich parents that you think you’re entitled to it.”

His cock aches in the confines of his boxers, the hard line of it clearly visible through the plaid fabric. Your eyes are trained on it, hungry and wanting. You’re practically drooling for it. He just looks so big, you want to feel.

He has to muffle a groan when he goes to adjust himself, feels the heel of his palm press against his cock just right. It was your fault he didn’t get to bring anyone back to the dorm to fuck, your fault he didn’t have a nice, warm mouth wrapped around his dick.

God, you’re just so fucking selfish. Why should you get to get off twice when he can’t even do anything? So he slips his hand beneath his sweats, beneath the waistband of his boxers. He groans, eyes squeezing shut as he wraps a hand around himself.

And then you moan, all pretty and needy. He opens his eyes to see your hand working faster between your thighs. He narrows his eyes, pins you in place like a bug with just a look. “Stop touching yourself or I’ll call Patrick.”

It’s easy to bring Patrick into it. You straighten up, pout, and obey. But for Art it’s almost a reminder of why he really fucking can’t.

Your hand stills, but he doesn’t move until they’re both above the blanket, slick and wet and sticky. A smug smile spreads across your lips as you slip your fingers between your lips, cleaning them off. And god, you’re so brazen. You’re just like Patrick, and it’s going to fucking kill him.

“Sit on the floor. Right in front of me.” You’re practically scrambling to obey— peeling off the blankets and settling between his legs. And you are pretty, honestly. Even prettier when you want him this bad, when you’re on your knees and peering up at him with wide, eager eyes.

Your mouth is parted, just slightly as you look at him. He watches as you dart your tongue out to wet your lips, eyes darting between his hand moving beneath his boxers and his eyes.

“Art, please, I just want to touch you,” you practically beg. Your eyes are all watery, in the fake way he’d seen you play at when you wanted something to go your way.

Your parents had fucking ruined you— spoiled you, turned you into an entitled little brat. And now look at where you were— on your knees in front of Art, begging for cock. It made him wonder if your dad ever spent time with you, if he was ever involved in your life beyond clinical conversations over breakfast and dinner.

Honestly, Patrick should be lucky that you’re obsessing over Art and not some random asshole. Anyone other than Art would’ve snapped already, would’ve taken everything you offered. Would’ve had you face down on the mattress while they plunged into your soaked cunt again and again and again. Or worse. Art could had a vivid imagination, and could think of a lot of things that he— no, not him, someone else— could do with willing pussy.

“You’re not going to touch me,” he said, as firmly as he could manage. “I’m gonna get my dick out, and you can fucking watch so you can see exactly what you can’t have.”

You whine, mutter something about him being mean. He needs to be mean, he needs to drill the fact that it’s never going to happen into your brain so you fucking get it.

He pushes down his boxers and his cock slaps against his stomach. He’s so hard, flushed pink and pretty. Your eyes widen and you lick your lips, leaning forward, closer unconsciously. You want to suck his pink tip into your mouth, taste the pre that dribbles from his slit.

You’re already drooling from the sight, he might as well put it to good use. He holds his hand out, tells you firmly to spit. You obey, letting drool pool in your mouth before you spit it into his palm.

Your cunt throbs as he wraps his slick hand around his cock, stroking slowly, so you have to watch every slow pass of his hand, the glide of skin. You are drooling— you feel it at the corner of your mouth, have to wipe at it shamefully.

You reach out, touch him wherever you can reach. A soft, delicate hand on the inside of his thigh. He groans, almost sounding pained as he rips your hand off and throws it back into your lap.

“I told you no touching.” His voice is weak, not as firm as he’d like to be. He wants to draw it out, make you watch him, get off on how desperate you are for him.

“Art, just let me—“

“Sit on your hands if it’s that fucking hard, or— I don’t know— walk back to your own dorm.”

You pout and tuck your hands beneath your thighs. It’s amazing, how well you listen to anything he says. He could probably tell you to bark like a dog and you fucking would. God, he’d hate to be Patrick. It must suck to have such a slutty sister.

Art doesn’t realize how loud he’s being— he’s so stuck up in his head. But you hear everything— the way he pants and moans. You watch his balls bounce as he fucks his fist, moan pathetically. Your pussy is just drooling at this point, swollen and aching with the need to be filled.

“Say thank you,” he says, meeting your gaze. His eyes are half-lidded, hazy. He looks so pretty, you just want him so bad. “Thank me for letting you watch.”

You whine softly. “Thank you, Art.”

He finishes with a desperate moan, coating his hand in thick white cum. The sheer volume of it surprises you— makes you long for it inside of your mouth, inside of your cunt. Art wipes his hand off on his ruined shirt, peels it off and tosses it across the room.

And then it’s quiet. You’re still on your knees, he’s adjusting his boxers again. You’re overwhelmed with the need to just press a kiss to his skin— anywhere, really. His ankle, his knee, his thigh, his hand. Anywhere he’d let you.

“Go the fuck to sleep. You get the floor tonight.”

“I never get the floor,” you say weakly. You want back in his bed so you can just bunch his blankets up and grind against them until you cum or fall asleep. He gives you a pointed look and you sigh, settling onto the little nest of blankets and pillows he has prepared for himself.

You fall asleep pretty quickly— exhausted as the adrenaline of seeing Art jerk off in front of you wears off. He thinks you actually look really sweet, curled up at his feet like that. Like you belong there.

[penaltyboxboxbox]

👼✨ ok some sentimental rambling

i hit 4000 on here today and its like. kind of crazy and makes me really happy n emotional idk i havent even had this blog for 2 years yet and i have really met such wonderful friends on here, people i'm really thankful to have in my life and talk to every day.

Having this blog and being in this fandom has also done something so special for me in terms of recapturing that fandom feeling i had as a teenager. Posting without worry of cringe, being self indulgent and unafraid to share it and getting to see others enjoy it with me. To experience that feeling of creating hand in hand with friends and talented mutuals....reading fic and being excited for updates, drawing art of the fic, having fic written off my art, drawing friends aus, getting involved in fandom projects and ask games and meme fills and fests etc, talking concepts for hours and hours in a way i really have not done on such a large scale since i was literally a kid....it really has been so fun and so special and needed in whats been a pretty mentally taxing time in life.

So, thanks guys, for enjoying my art and supporting me making it. I love to read all of your tags and comments and asks and messages and everything. I always have fun playing on the dashboard with you guys, and I hope you have fun playing here with me too :')

[finniestoncrane]

Hello! I hope you're having a wonderful day. I've never made a request before, so I really hope that I'm doing it correctly! I was wondering if you could do the Riddler from Gotham and a female reader. A Fluffy Romance one where Ed wants to confess his feelings for the reader, but is a nervous wreck about it because he's worried that she won't return his feelings? I would absolutely love it if you could do this, I love your writing, and thank you for reading my request!

Gotham!Riddler x Fem!Reader, word count: 1k eeeeeee i love shy and nervous eddie!! he is my sweetest softest baby and i am so happy to indulge in this 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: fluff, confessing feelings, two nervous nuggets trying to kiss

Outside of your office door, Ed was practicing his speech. He hadn't thought of it as such, but when he'd asked Lee to look over it, she had suggested it was perhaps a little wordy. And of course, in response, he had scowled, been a little annoyed, and walked off with a quiet 'thank you'. Surely everything he wanted to say to you couldn't be condensed. Surely the fact that he was barely able to silently contain his feelings for you was enough of an indication that it was pointless to even try to be succinct.

Everything had to be perfect. Entertaining, so you knew he was fun. Engaging, so you didn't tune out before the very important bits. Heartfelt, so you could tell he was being genuine and sincere.

All he wanted was a chance. To tell you how much he admired you, how beautiful and capable he thought you were, and to have you agree to let him prove that he was good enough for you, or at the very least, better than any of the other men around the GCPD.

So why was it taking so long for him to knock on your door?

He'd been standing there for almost twenty minutes, wringing his hands, practicing his deep breathing exercises, fiddling with his glasses, anything but raising his hand to the frosted glass panel and actually talking to you.

It was nerves. That was the answer to the question. An obvious answer, too. Anyone could see it by looking at him. His usually tidy hair was dishevelled, his shirt untucked from his brown, corduroy pants, hands trembling, glasses smudged, his nails frayed and chewed to the point where they hurt. His cheeks were bright red, and his forehead was sweating. These were all classic symptoms, and he knew them well. But they would only get worse the longer he stood out there, worrying and overthinking.

Ed raised his hand, reaching it forward to rap the knuckles against the door, when it suddenly burst open. And there you were, about to walk out, bumping into him and then stumbling backwards with an apology.

"Ed! I'm so sorry, are you ok?"

"I'm fine, it's ok. I can see that you're busy, so I'll just-"

"Actually, it's good timing. I was hoping to come and see you. Do you have a minute?"

"Of course! I have plenty of time for you."

You smiled, your own nerves soothed by his kindness. If only you'd had him fifteen minutes ago when you had to put your lunch in the trash, unable to eat because of the butterflies in your stomach. If only you could just find it in you to tell Ed how you felt about him, instead of living in an awkward limbo. But you had resolved to end that today, and now, he was right there in front of you. Never a better time.

"Do you think... could you come into my office? I'd rather this was a private discussion."

"Oh... yes! I actually... if we have time afterwards, and it's appropriate, I have something I'd like to discuss with you, too. Privately."

He had walked over to your desk, standing awkwardly, rocking on the heels of his feet with his hands behind his back. When you had closed the door, you felt the tension, knowing you were alone with him, committed to telling him. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it, so you offered him the floor first.

"In that case, please feel free to tell me what you wanted to talk about. My thing... it can wait, it's not... it's not important."

Ed looked stunned, shocked into a silent stupor as he wondered what he might do next. You'd given him the permission to go ahead and say what he had come there to say, but despite his high intellect, and the hours of practice, he suddenly found himself unable to speak, or to at least form sentences that actually made any sense.

"I uh... well... I-I came to see if, or say, rather... that you, well, I really... I-if I... could perhaps... The thing is... You're a v-very special p-person... to me... to the GCPD, to everyone! And... And I wondered if you wanted... if you w-would ever want... with, uh... Just..."

He licked his lips nervously, wetting them as he tried to form more words. You waited patiently, smiling softly as you realised that Ed might just be there for the exact same reason you were. It was hard not to interrupt him, but you wanted to see if you were right, and you wanted to puthim out of his misery as he fumbled over his words and began sweating, glasses steaming up and clouding his vision.

"... because I really d-do think you're... beautiful... is that inappropriate? I, uh, apologise if it is b-but I just had to ask if... uh... i-if... if-"

"Would you like to go on a date with me, Ed?"

Stopped in his tracks, Ed's eyes widened and his lips parted in a small gasp of surprise and relief.

"Of course!"

He cleared his throat, trying to settle his voice back to its regular register.

"Ahem... Of course I would. Would you?"

Leaning in to him, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering just a moment longer than was expected before you pulled back.

"Absolutely. Shall we say tonight, after work?"

"Uh... yes. Yes!"

You smiled, turning to go back to your desk.

"W-wait, don't you... didn't you need something from me?"

"Oh! I've got it now, thanks."

He nodded, flustered, a big grin pushing his cheeks into his eyes as he turned to leave your office, abstaining from giggling and punching the air until he was sure you wouldn't be able to catch him celebrating.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

This is an oddly specific request but could I ask for headcanons with Kafka and a reader who’s on the curvier side? Like I’ve got DDs, I have wider hips, and like Kafka I have abs but only if I suck in my stomach. So I guess I feel very seen and validated by his body type??

Sfw/nsfw is fine, and feel free to delete this if it’s too vague. I hope you have an awesome day! ☺️

MDNI under the cut, please and thank you!

A/N ::: I woke up at 4:30 this morning and am falling asleep as I write this lol. Proofed as well as I could for the remaining brain power I have.

Anon! I LOVE this so much. And oddly specific requests are fine with me. It just means I have more to work with! I hope you like this and that it meets all of your needs =).

Always had a soft spot for women with more to love. And you've only made these feelings of his grow in intensity.

Can't believe YOU are interested in him. Sure, he knows he's strong and relatively good looking (my god, he deserves the world) but only recently has he started to feel really comfy in his own skin.

Respects the hell out of you for being so confident in your body.

Never tires of seeing you walk around in your bra when you get ready in the morning.

Has trouble focusing on his breakfast when your tits are looking so much more delicious than what he's trying to eat.

Has given up on finishing his food more than once to take a few well-placed bites of you.

Can't get enough of your ass, especially when you're bent over something in the kitchen. Or the bedroom. Or the bathroom. Anywhere, really.

Comes up behind you and starts to rub your hips, squeezing and pulling at you, whining because he doesn't want to wait until later to have you all to himself again.

You've let him indulge in his fondness for the softness of your body more than once.

You're nearly convinced that he likes what he's doing to you more than you do.

The way he reacts when he's eating your pussy, moaning and pulling your body closer against his face, his big arms wrapped up under your thighs and his hands almost turning white they're gripping the fat of your legs so hard.

It's like he's possessed, unable to control himself.

And when he fucks you, his abs bulge and flex as he slams into you, his cock hitting all of those spots deep inside of you, driving you mad.

Does his best to let you cum first.

When he finishes, sometimes he'll pull out and cum all over your tits, stomach, ass. Any part of you that he's fixated on at that moment in time.

Has had trouble deciding and almost ruined his own orgasm - luckily, there are only beautiful parts to you, and he was able to finish anywhere.

He's never had a preference for where he puts it before, but with you he just seems to really like to cover you in his cum.

Provides world-class aftercare.

He offers you anything he can think of that you might want or need.

Warm washcloth to clean up a little? Sit tight, kitten, he'll be right back.

Hungry? Where do you want to eat? He's famished, anything you want sounds great to him.

Thirsty? He's already walking his chubby, jiggly naked butt down the hall to the kitchen for a glass of ice water for you.

Tired? Great, so is he. The two of you have curled up more than once to take some quiet time for just you.

He's got you covered for anything.

So grateful to have someone so loving, patient, and caring in his life.

Fights (playfully) with you about who is luckier: You or him. But he never backs down that he's the clear winner here.

@kazutora-kurokawa @katkusuo

@darkstarlight82 @southside-otaku

@bakubunny @mintiblossom

@breathofthewind29 @viburnt

@trevengersprincess @manji-hoe

@witchy-scribblings @

[moonbeamsandmayhem]

a/n: Eddie x fem!Reader. It’s been a while. Thank you all so much for bearing with me. This is a purely self-indulgent blurb/fic. Not beta read. Inspired after author watched Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire.

warnings: oral, penetration, dom/sub undertones if you squint, edging, reader with a vagina, Eddie being a little shit. I think that’s it! As always, please DM me if I missed anything.

October 31st, 1996 - 10:25pm

The candy had been eaten, scares given, and costumes put away for another year. You had gladly been on candy duty for a majority of the evening at the community centre, giving out treats, facilitating games for the little ones, and telling ghost stories to enraptured ten year olds who hung off your every word.

As for Eddie, he was running a DnD one-shot for the teens down the hallway. Occasionally you could hear raucous laughter and some profanities spew from the din. It brought a smile to your face knowing that he could still command a room like he had not-so-many years ago at Hawkins High.

But now, you’re home. In your shared apartment. Your legs are on his lap, while you balance a bowl of popcorn on yours. Your eyes are glued to the screen, watching as Dana Barrett and Louis Tully embrace, kissing passionately, the Keymaster and the Gatekeeper reunited at long last.

Your periphery catches movement as Eddie’s hand reaches for the popcorn before landing squarely (purposefully) on your thigh. You rip your attention from the TV to lift a curious brow at him, only to be met with a smirk. “Something on your mind, handsome?”

He croons, smirk growing to a full blown smile. “A few things, yeah,” Eddie admits, hand inching a little higher, “just thinkin’ about how killer you’d look in that dress.” He nods back to the screen, referring to the gown Dana’s wearing.

“You think I can pull that off?” You scoff.

“Sweetheart, you can pull off a god damn trash bag.”

“I’m not Sigourney Weaver, Eddie.”

“She’s got nothing on you.” He tugs the bowl from out of your grasp, placing it on the coffee table before giving you his full attention. Leaning over, he cages you in, forcing you full on your back against the couch. Eddie’s lips brush against yours, silently asking for permission, with a small peck against his, he surges against you like a man trying to quench his thirst. His hands are everywhere, as are yours, a whirlwind of disregarded clothes find themselves unceremoniously on the floor, but you’re both too distracted to care.

“You looked so hot in that witch’s outfit, babe. Was hard to keep it together tonight.” He latches on to the space where shoulder meets neck, sucking in a bruise.

“Y-you looked pretty hand - fuck - handsome yourself. The eyeliner, the fake-fangs, like something out of The Lost Boys, Christ, Ed’s.”

“Mhm. You like a bad boy, don’t ya, sweets?” Lathing the spot with the flat of his tongue. You shudder, eyes rolling back a little, losing yourself - did he say something? He nips at your skin and you gasp. “I asked you a question.”

“Could - could you repeat the - ah - shit - you’re distracting me, Munson.” You pout.

“Am I?” He looks at you with those big brown eyes, all faux-innocence and one-hundred percent mischief. “My bad.”

“Asshole.”

Eddie chuckles softly, “Guilty as charged. Now, are you gonna let me continue being a distraction or…?”

There’s a pregnant pause.

“Yes.”

You cum three times. First, on his tongue. And he makes you work for it, pay back for calling him an asshole. He lifts you higher and higher then pulls his affections away, leaving fluttery kisses around your clit before he starts again. He does this four times until you’re nearly sobbing. It’s a rather messy affair when he finally lets you cum, snapping like a taut wire, and gushing all over him.

Still dazed and trembling from the power of your orgasm, he pulls a second with practiced fingers. Playing you like he plays his guitar, making you sing into the howling night. You’re begging for his cock now, begging to cream all over it, but he shushes you as he works in a fourth digit. You arch your back clear off the couch like a woman possessed, you cum harder than you have in your life.

Or so you thought.

When Eddie eases into you, it’s the closest thing to heaven you can imagine. He stretches you and fills you just right, the piercing on the tip of his cock finding that spot only he knows how to he reach. He presses his forehead to yours, muttering to keep your eyes on him. And you do, because how could you possibly look away? Not only does he fuck you like tonight is the last night on Earth, he makes love to you as if you’re the only two people left on the planet. Slow, self-assured, comforting, everything else dissolves around you. You cum so hard you see stars. Your lungs burn, robbed of air, as you clench and cream and gush. He empties into you with such a guttural groan of relief at the exact same moment, sweat beading his beautiful brow. He pumps, once, twice, a third time, then lays on top of you, satiated, dipping his head a little to nuzzle his nose against yours.

“You absolute menace.” You tease, with an exhausted smile, leaning forward to capture his lips.

“What can I say? Bustin’ makes me feel good, baby.”

[lyrinsluv]

1:08am

timeskip! semi x [bartender] reader

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

wordcount: 893! :D

it was a typical night at the bar. you watch some college kids get drunker and drunker because they’re ‘celebrating’ the end of their midterms. at the other side of the counter, you see an old guy trying to flirt aimlessly with the hot girl who always orders a sophisticated drink. you grumble quietly as you make the stupid mai tai for her. but, there was one interesting thing that was slightly different. you knew that the restaurant always hosted gigs for underground bands, and of course, eita semi’s band was playing. 

god, you never knew that you were into guys with ashy hair. 

his band takes a break and he comes up to you. thankfully you were the only one running the bar tonight. you give him your typical customer service smile and nod before handing the mai tai to the woman. you turn to him, the smile still prominent on your face. 

“would you like me to open up a tab for you?” you ask softly. he nods, leaning onto the counter. was this love at first sight? 

“mm, yeah. i’ll just have a bourbon on the rocks,” he replies. you quickly get to making his drink. you wanted to get to know him better, even if he didn’t know your name. 

“so.. how long have you been doing music for?” you ask as you turn back to him, the ice in the small glass. 

“ah... i first picked it up when i got out of high school. it was something i became passionate about over time.” he says as he sits down on the stool, further away from the college students and the hopeless man. 

you nod with a slight smile on your face with your back to him. you could’ve sworn that you felt him checking you out, but you didn’t want to feed your delusions. 

“do.. you do something else other than this?” you ask as you place his glass in front of him. maybe luck was on your side tonight because no one was asking you to make any drinks. his gaze met yours and the eye contact was tainted with a little bit of lust and mainly attraction. 

“yeah.. yeah, i do some stuff with government administration,” he says in a breath, referring back to his public service. 

“that’s a pretty name, no?” he asks coyly as he looks down at your name tag. your legs felt like jelly as he looked back up at you. oh god, his jewelry wasn’t helping this. the rings on his fingers, his silver necklace, his bracelets. they complimented his arms so much. thank god for men in tank tops. 

“me? i’d like to think so,” you mumble back as you look back at his face. 

“what’s yours?’ you ask as you tilt your head to the side ever so slightly. 

“eita semi. how about we skip formalities and call each other by our first names?” he asks as he sips on his bourbon. in your head, your mouth dropped to the floor. but in reality, you just chuckled quietly. 

“how sweet of you, eita,” you say during your chuckle. sadly, the flirting session got cut short after his bandmate said that it was time for them to perform again. he stands up, the smile still on his lips. he takes the last sip of his bourbon and he speaks up again. 

“what time do you get off?” he asks as he looks into your eyes again. 

“soon.” you say quietly as you look back at him.

it was soon. they performed one last time for the night, and you're wiping up the counters. sometimes you were glad that the bar closed at the same time as the restaurant. you look around and chuckle at the hostess kicking out all of the college kids. 

you caught his eye. 

you open the back door which leads to an alleyway, and of course, he’s standing there. his bandmates were long gone and he was there all alone. your eyes widen for a second. you didn’t think he’d wait for you to close. 

it was 1:08, and now his hands were around your waist. his hands on your waist felt so sinful, but you couldn’t help but indulge in this sin. he was totally sober, and you didn’t give a shit if you had a hot singer's hands all over your body in a gross alleyway. 

“eita, do you do this to every bartender you meet?” you ask in a bashful manner, a slight hue of pink eminent on both of your cheeks. 

“nah, just you,” he murmurs back as his face leans into yours. his smile on his face felt even more reprehensible but it just felt so good. it wasn’t a shock that you leaned in to kiss him first. he enjoyed that. a lot, even. you could feel his little laugh and his smirk as he leaned in, his fingers scrunching up your work shirt. he deepened the kiss which entailed the night that you two shared. 

maybe it wasn't just a one-night stand with this hot guy. one-night stands became so frequent that you both just assumed you were dating. eita semi had a thing for you: the cute bartender who just happened to serve him that night.

[jasmines-library]

Hello!

Truthfully, I know only surface level information about DC, but I've really enjoyed all your fics for the Batfam💕

Only take this request if it sparks something for you and you can write whatever form, being HCs, imagine, etc!

I'd like to request something for a (gn) civilian reader who is friends w/ the Batfam, but recently got superpowers that are magical girl-esque. I imagine reader was in the wrong place, wrong time situation w/ some criminals and got powers from an alien artifact. Their powers are sparkely and elegant but pretty flashy as well. Their tranaformation actually stuns people into watching and a lot of their moves only work if there is flair and finesse to them.

Reader is already struggling w/ if they want to be a new vigilante, but they’re mostly embarrassed by how showy and pretty their powers are in comparison to the dark and brooding Batfam. They feel out of place next to them and hate becoming the center of attention.

Sorry if this idea is a bit out there, but ty for letting me be indulgent in your ask box 💕 Love your writing!!

Acceptance

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Note: Not really sure what i think of this one but im trying to clear out my inbox so people can request again. Thanks for requesting anon!

Word Count: 600

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

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The first thing you recalled was the pain. Fiery and burning, radioactive through your veins. The second was the light. So bright that it was practically burned into your retinas. And the third was the ringing sensation that was too stubborn to leave your ears. It made your head throb and your eyes water. The city is cold as you walk through the streets, wandering aimlessly with little to nowhere to go and with even less to do. 

Not too long ago, you found yourself in a bit of a situation. A ‘wrong place, wrong time’ kind of situation. The feeling of icy cold fingers wrapping around you will never leave your mind. The feeling of being tied down and exposed to…whatever it was they used to experiment with will always have a permanent place in your mind. And although the memories were there…..most of them were hazy. Glimpses. Fragments of memories. You thought that perhaps you were in and out of consciousness. Or that whatever strange artifact you were exposed to fucked with your mind. Nevertheless, you now have these….strange abilities. Beautiful, yet strange. Enthralling. 

“Still brooding?” A voice sounded behind you, light, full of amusement and belonging to none other than Dick Grayson clad from head-to-toe in his nightwing get up; black except for a splash of blue across his chest and over his shoulders. 

“It’s not brooding” you corected, hardly sparing him a glance before continuing down the street. You had encountered the vigilantes many times. Sometimes you found yourself on the same case as them. And each and every time they would come practically begging for you to join them. Tim, Dick’s little brother had pieced together your situation alarming quickly. He knew you had nowhere to go. So in came offer after offer for you to join them. You had repeatedly declined. Not that you didn’t like the vigilantes; in fact you found them rather amusing. It was the fact that you felt out of place with abilities like yours. It was easier to work alone.

“Oh yeah?” Dick caught up with you quickly, his larger strides matching your own with ease. “Then what would you call it?”

“None of your business, that’s what.” You replied, but there was a soft grin on your lips.

Nightwing just tilted his head with an unamused look. 

“What’s that look for?” You teased, continuing to walk.

“Come on. You know what i'm going to ask”

“No.” You answer immediately.

“But–”

“No.”

“Why not? You’re wasting your potential here.”

“Because.”

Dick let out a frustrated sigh, deadpanning at you as he brought the two of you to a stop. “You’re impossible.”

“No. it's embarrassing.”

Dick’s eyebrows shoot up at that. “Embarrassing?”

“My powers are…flashy. I don’t want to be the centre of attention. It’s embarrassing.”

He frowned, eyebrows knitting together as he turned to face you. “You’re embarrassed of them?”

“....i guess.”

“Sweetheart, look at me. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Seriously.”

“No?”

Dick looks at you as if you committed a crime. “Course not. What you’ve got is really special.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” He says. “I'm serious. Your powers could save lives, Kid. Consider it.”

“I……fine.”

“You’re serious?” His face lights up. “You’ll join us.”

“Yes. But don’t get used to it. I won’t always let you get your way.”

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BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish @killxz @rosecentury

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[galeorderbride]

The last prompt you did was SO good! ♥️

Thinking a combination of…. *drum roll please*

16, 17, 31, 37, 51 and 60!

All for Gale.

Prompts:

16: touching noses

17: laying your head on someone’s shoulder

31: holding someone by the waist

37: smiling while kissing

51: slow dancing

60: sitting on their lap

Thank you anon! I didn’t think the prompt would take off the way it did since it was so short! I accept the challenge of 6 prompts in one!! Let’s goooo

Rating M (again no actual sex but a lot of touching and I like things sensual hehe) Fluff, sappy self indulgence.

Gale x F!Tav 

Words: 1331

How about a little post-wedding slow dance action with Gale x Tav? I imagine Gale’s family is huge, and the wedding would be big and splendid as all things in Waterdeep are. Introverted tav is maybe a bit overwhelmed, and the two of them have a sweet moment at the end of the night :) 

...

A Private Moment

Gale wasn’t joking when he said the Dekarios clan came from far and wide. Tav saw the extent of his family tree at their wedding, nearly one hundred guests attending the reception, all looking to meet his new bride. After so many introductions, Tav started referring to herself as Mrs. of Waterdeep, just to make herself laugh and stave off the social anxiety that grew with each tap of her shoulder. She was never good around crowds, not like Gale, who could drum up conversation with every type of personality. His family were all kind people, intelligent and generous, but Tav was simply not made for mingling. A small wedding would’ve suited her beautifully, and Gale would have granted her that, but to see him surrounded by loved ones, enjoying each taste of happiness available, that was far too good to pass up. 

He was positively ethereal, dressed in off white robes lined with golden accents. His hair was tied half up, the bottom layer still smelling of his sandalwood soap. Moonlight painted his skin a dashing shade of baby blue, as the lamplight from his tower led them away from the waning wedding party. They walked hand-in-hand, Gale leading them up the stairs to their bedroom. One she’d slept in countless times since coming to Waterdeep with him, but tonight, it felt brand new. Shared with her husband. Husband…would that word ever stop giving her pleasant shivers? 

While the wedding was beautiful, courtesy of the decor skills of Morena, Tav was most excited to be alone with Gale. The panicked rhythm of her heartbeat soothed, worries over whether she said the right thing fading. To see him smiling in the quiet of their room, tipsy from champagne and joy, nothing else in the world mattered. 

“Your chambers await, Mrs. Dekarios,” Gale said as they reached the door, opened for her as if welcoming royalty to court. Tav giggled, curtsying as she stepped into the bedroom. 

He simply wanted an excuse to see her at every angle, heart swelling with adoration as Tav twirled around. The hem of her elegant wedding dress flowed around her ankles. Kicking off her shoes, she sank onto the bed, exhaling her anxiety out as she felt the fresh sheets against her back. The shine of the ring on her finger reminding him that they belonged together, sworn to one another through eternal vows. What else could he possibly ask for? 

“Are you going to join me, husband?” Tav asked, still laying on the bed, her feet dangling off the edge in a playful sway. 

Gale removed his jacket before climbing above her, his hands resting on either side of her head. His legs moved between hers, the fabric of her dress bunching around their knees as her toes moved up his calves. Desire fogged his mind, watching her eyes glisten with tender lust, an image he’d never tire of. Temptation overtook him, lowering his head down to press his lips passionately against hers. Tav smiled into his kiss, giddy from the remnants of wine and frivolity now transforming into wanton affection. Sweet mint and champagne bitterness lined his mouth, electric along her tongue. 

The night could’ve ended there, the yearning to feel her skin against his for hours enough to send his heart into overdrive. But something stopped him, remembering how nervous she was during the wedding party, overwhelmed by the crowd of guests at every turn. That’s why he brought them back to the tower early, to give her the special, private moment she deserved. 

Leaving the kiss, Gale grinned, overcome with happiness at the sight of her under him. Buttery, youthful blush glowing on her cheeks. He brought the tips of their noses together, brimming with heartfelt devotion. 

“You are all of everything, my love. I’d follow you into the high tide if you asked,” he said, voice faint. They were words shared only between them, undeserving of all ears but Tav’s. “Will you dance with me one last time, beloved?” 

No one spoke like him, a regular reminder of how lucky Tav was to have pulled him out of that portal. How fortunate to know he fell in love with her at the same moment she did: at first sight. Dancing with him until the end of time made for a perfect heaven. 

With the snap of his magical fingers, the piano in the corner played a gentle tune. A light and harmonious waltz floating between them. Gale lifted her off the bed, his hands capturing her waist as they swayed to the centre of the room. She felt the press of his wedding ring sliding along her back, fingertips embedding into her hips as he held her impossibly close. Pressed against his chest, Tav leaned her head on his shoulder, soul melding with his own. A bright morning enlivening the night of their weary souls. A strong desire to weep enveloped Tav, lost in the warmth of his glorious aura. They were not near enough until they became the same person. 

“I know you prefer the solace of the quiet. Forgive me for making you go through with a big wedding,” he said, resting his cheek on her head as she leaned on him. 

They continued to dance as they spoke, Tav’s arms hugging his shoulders, Gale caressing every inch of her hips, waist and ribs. If there were a thousand ways to touch her, he’d find a way to do all of them in one, treating every moment as an eternity. 

“Everything was perfect, Gale. Seeing you smile, laughing and dancing with your mother, so full of life. I wouldn’t trade this night for anything. Please, there is nothing to forgive, just be here with me. Enjoy this beautiful moment,” Tav said, planting kisses on his neck and ear between her words of affirmation. 

Music ceased just as she finished speaking, parting from their dance and simply gazing at each other. Love and longing floating with each glint of their eyes connecting. Tav grinned, letting her fingers trail from his shoulders down to his forearms, landing on his hands still tied to her waist. Guiding his fingers to pull the ribbon of her dress, his breathing hitched, the fabric falling to the floor. A silk slip remained, downy and heavenly against him, hem ending at the mid-thigh. Beauty unmatched, so magnificent he wondered if she was a figment of his mad imagination. No, not with the vivid heat of her body, the sharp exhalation as his hands found their way to the part of her legs meeting the nightgown. His mind couldn’t conjure her if he tried. 

Gale distracted her by waving at the piano again, playing another lilted song. He took her off guard when he effortlessly lifted her, legs wrapping around his waist as she let out a beaming laugh. That lusty smirk spread on his face, one she’d gotten to know so well, his big brown eyes thinning with a cloud of desire. Telling her exactly what he had in store for her, and never failing to keep her attention. 

Candles glowed against his divine skin as he sat them on the side of the bed, Tav seated comfortably on his lap. Dim light illuminated the tapestry of his wondrous body, Tav struggling to decide where to put her hands when she wanted desperately to have them everywhere. She settled on his cheeks, kissing him softly as he held her close, arms addicted to her waist. This night had just begun, and already, it was more than perfection. 

Pausing their kiss for air, Gale said, “Now, I do believe it’s time for me to share some private vows for my blushing bride.” 

Tav tightened around him, the corners of her mouth beginning to ache with all the smiling. “More vows? How could I say no?” 

Gale chuckled, gently biting her bottom lip before he said, “Let me set the mood.” 

With that, he blew out the candles. 

[rikkivoid]

winter kiss