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#this game is so well-written holy shit
tapioca-puddingg · 4 months
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Why GoWR Valhalla Is Important
Hey. It's me again. This time I'm not yelling about Kingdom Hearts or Drakengard, but I wanted to talk about God of War Ragnarök: Valhalla today and why I think it's important in trauma-centered narratives. This isn't a detailed analysis, just me spitballing.
SPOILER WARNING: There will be spoilers for God of War Ragnarök: Valhalla, so please proceed with caution!
EDITED: 2/26/24
As a brief summary, Kratos spent almost the entirety of GoW 2018 refusing to talk about his past. His guilt, shame, and trauma deeply affected his relationship with his son, to the point where he didn't want to be around Atreus bc he was terrified of being a bad influence on him. It was only when Atreus' life was in danger did it force him to finally admit just a sliver of the truth. Now I don't mean to say that Kratos revealing his godhood wasn't a big deal because it absolutely was, I'm just saying that it's just one piece of a MUCH bigger story. Anyway, he recognized his past mistakes, but the shame was too much for him to openly acknowledge it until damn near the end of the game.
Come Ragnarök, Kratos was pretty much an open book. He had grown SO much in those short years of fimbulwinter: He openly talked about his trauma to Mimir and Freya. He worked so hard to be a good father and a good support system to his friends. He went out of his way to make amends with Freya and restore their friendship. And he fought to restore peace to the Nine Realms.
But come Valhalla, Freya wants to recruit Kratos to be the new God of War of the nine realms, or at least to be a part of the new peacekeeping council that she's putting together. Kratos is extremely hesitant to take up the mantle. He doesn't feel worthy or deserving enough to hold this position given all that he's done. He and Mimir (and later on, Tyr) are constantly going back and forth about it. Both perspectives are completely valid. Valhalla is about Kratos facing his past in a more literal sense; parts of Greece have been manifested from Kratos' memories of it, so it's like he gets to be there in real time again. This is about helping him process what happened and to add some nuance to the conversation. It's like free therapy for Kratos.
It's funny too bc you have both opposing viewpoints being represented. On one hand, you have Mimir and Tyr being the supporting/validating voice, and Helios is the contrarian. Since he's a manifestation of Kratos' memories, he represents the doubts that Kratos has about himself. The harsh voice to show how hard he is on himself, and not without good reason.
The reason why I think Valhalla is so important is bc in media, survivor narratives are often linear. The character just "gets over" their trauma and then that trauma isn't addressed again. It's presented more as a hurdle than a lifelong battle. I guess this goes to show how misunderstood survivorhood is. But that isn't how healing works. We regress sometimes, and sometimes we still mull over the things that have happened to us. We might heal, but that trauma does leave emotional scars. So even after the many leaps and bounds Kratos has made, he's not "over" his past, far from it! It still haunts him every day and every night. Valhalla is Kratos still processing everything. From my own healing journey, I've learned that it takes a long, long time to fully process your trauma, if there even is a "fully", anyway. It takes a long time to learn and understand all the complexities and how it affects you in current day. And it takes even longer to process such a complicated history like Kratos'.
Generally speaking about the idea of processing trauma, I said earlier that survivorhood is extremely misunderstood by the masses. Imo, our society is very anti-victim/anti-survivor. So with that in mind, from the perspective of the audience, some might perceive the processing trauma bit as repetitive or "milking it". These are mediums of entertainment after all, so ofc I understand wanting to put out an engaging story where the audience doesn't lose interest. But screw those ppl lol. We have to understand why we do what we do if we want to do better, and it's amazing that a video game is willing to have these conversations. Being more open about all the nuances of processing trauma, grief, healing, etc will go such a long way.
Even the roguelite gameplay style perfectly reflects this theme. Processing this stuff is slow. It doesn't happen overnight. Unless you're in Valhalla, I suppose.
Okay I said this wasn't a detailed analysis but I lied. I'm a liar now
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stary-night · 5 months
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The contrast between being really into the Hunger Games series as a kid and wanting to be like Katniss vs watching the movies as an adult and being horrified at how young all the characters are.
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wild-houseplant · 1 year
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Hello Plant, lovely friend ^^ I am a-coming with questions. Oh would I have loved just putting the whole post into your asks but that would be unfair to everybody else who wants to ask questions and maybe also be a tad bit overwhelming. So I've made a selection. Feel free to pick the ones that tickle your fancy the most and ignore the rest ^^
3. What architectural or design aesthetic would best suit them?
7. If your OC could meet any historical or past figure, whether in the real world or in their own canon lore, who would it be and why?
13. Is your character bilingual or multilingual? Yes she is Which language are they most comfortable in or prefer using? How did they come to learn them? (Also if I may make an add-on which language are reserved for which occasions? What's the socializing language? The academic language? The work language? Does she learn Antivan?)
23. What sort of routines, rituals or rules do they have or set for themselves? (What is her procedure to make herself comfortable after a long day of work? Bold question, may be a tad bit personal, if so please ignore)
I hope you're having an amazing day!!!!
Henlo my excellent friend :3 Thank you for sending the lush asks! I will answer them ALLLLLLL 8D
Under the cut, because like Aurelio and Revka, I am incapable of keeping it concise.
Okay, so 3 (what architectural or design aesthetic would best suit them?). I'll be the first to admit I'm not au fait with the industry terms. What I can say, though, with regard to general preferences:
Most important thing for Rhodri is that stuff is clean and in reasonably good repair. With the exception of hairline cracks in the buildings, which any Tevinter will assure you adds character, broken tiles and the like should be replaced. Also important is to make the place look both imposing to outsiders, but welcoming to familiar people.
Some clutter indoors, especially books, is encouraged, but only on table surfaces (never on the floor, as Tevinters consider it dirty, no matter how many times you mop it).
I've always seen Tevinter as a place that has a lot of sandstone and marble, so I figure plenty of the buildings are made out of those two things. Especially the upper-crust villas like what Rhodri grew up in.
In terms of decorations, better with trees and gardens rather than fancy statues. The symbol of Tevinter can either be carved into the sandstone, or in a banner hanging at the front of the villa.
High ceilings, please, and an atrium indoors, as it's hot as buggery year round in Minrathous. Make it nice and light, too. It's a beautiful, sunny city.
A couple of pictures below if that helps (links embedded in the pics):
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close to ideal house. God help me for using minecraft. Make the land flat and stick a gazebo out the back for watching the afternoon thunderstorm, and that's a wrap.
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Someone made a Tevinter-inspired courtyard, though I would just make this their atrium. MeggieRock took a whole bunch more pictures; I just chose the one I liked best. They're all amazing, though. I'm not quite sure if that's what the question was asking or not. Was I close? haha :D lmk if not!!
Number 7 (If your OC could meet any historical or past figure, whether in the real world or in their own canon lore, who would it be and why?)
Oh, easy choice. Zevran's mother, hands down. Naturally, if she could plan it out, she'd take Zevran so he could meet her, but if that wasn't allowed, she'd take a list of questions and information to pass on to her mother-in-law on Zevran's behalf.
One thing I never really thought of until now is that it would have been quite a thing at the wedding to see the Imperial Chantry packed to the rafters with Rhod's family and friends and friends of the family and and and... But then not a soul from Zevran's side. People would've been astonished. Northerners have huge networks, and Zevran comes empty-handed to his own nuptials? It's sad, honestly. Especially because even though Tevinters don't marry for love as a rule, the marriage does signify two households becoming much more linked. Really, you don't just marry one person, you marry the whole family.
On the plus side, Zevran has a whole new gaggle of people who love him to bits, so it's very much a net win. Even so, Rhodri was looking forward to the whole +1 family add-on with whomever her father was going to set her up with. So the chance to say g’day to her mother-in-law would be something she’d be absolutely jonesing for.
Assuming Zevran isn't allowed to join in on this, meeting Zevran's mother would be a very emotional event, I think, for Rhodri and her mother-in-law both. Not least because this poor Dalish woman realises her only child has gone and gotten hitched with a Tevinter Magister, oh my GOD. I dunno, though, I think Rhodri's candour and very plain affection for her son (she practically sings odes about him as it is) would reassure her. She'd probably be heartbroken to hear Zevran went through what he did with the Crows. I’m sure she’d be very proud of him too, though, especially as Rhodri waxes lyrical about his heroism and kind heart during the Blight (and every other point in time, honestly) .
And yanno, marrying into fabulous wealth with a spouse who's willing to do anything for him, well. It's a turn-up for the books after Crow living. This lady would probably be content enough to let Rhodri go (only after ALL her questions are answered) with some ominous warning about haunting the shit out of her if she breaks Zevran's heart. Fair enough, honestly. What loving mother could do more?
13. Is your character bilingual or multilingual? Yes she is Which language are they most comfortable in or prefer using? How did they come to learn them? (Also if I may make an add-on which language are reserved for which occasions? What's the socializing language? The academic language? The work language? Does she learn Antivan?)
Ooh. Ooh ok. Let's see. I can't say Rhodri dislikes Common, because it's her mother's native language (though Revka does speak Tevene) and her mother is a SAINT, damn it! BUT Rhod's far more Tevinter than Kirkwaller, culturally speaking, and does have a heavy preference for Tevene.
The trouble with Common, as any proud Northerner will tell you, is that it's not so much a cultural language these days, but rather a trade tongue. A lingua franca, at most. Those poor bloody Fereldans and Marchers, Maker help them, lost their cultural language and can only speak Common now. Where are the culturally-specific words for certain moods, circumstances, weather phenomena, celebrations? Where's the language made by the first of their people to live there, that ties them to their homes and families?
She uses Common when she needs to. Everyone does. If anyone with her doesn't speak Tevene, or doesn't feel proficient enough, she'll speak Common, as basic courtesy dictates. With Kirkwaller family, though, she uses it more joyfully. Especially when she gets a chance to whip out the dreadful sandblaster Kirkwaller accent and horrify everyone but her mother, who was the one to teach it to her.
(HC if needed: I have assigned various accents and dialects of the English-speaking diaspora to the Marcher nations and beyond, as I'm sick of RP everywhere. Kirkwallers speak Australian English; Starkhaveners have the most gorgeous Glaswegian (feel free to picture Sebastian Vael screaming "Whae fuckin widnae! Eh? Think ah fuckin widnae? Ya fuckin radge!" when challenged to a fight). And those splendid people in Tantervale delight us all with the linguistic beauty of Belfast!)
For all other matters, she speaks Tevene. I'd say she's evenly bilingual having grown up speaking both, but Tevene, which is much more expressive and emotional, communicates her and her inner workings best. Lots of Tevene doesn't translate well into Common, and she forever bemoans that, because it makes it much harder to get her message across. The pain of having to explain 'te amo plenissime' while Zevran's still learning, oh god. She thinks and dreams in Tevene. Any poetry or important, heartfelt things she writes-- Tevene (except to her mother, of course). Magical research is more easily written in Tevene- Circle mages across Thedas use a lot of Tevene loanwords for magical things because of course, magic was suppressed outside of the Imperium.
She does learn Antivan though! Luckily, the two countries have very similar linguistic roots-- in fact, my HC here is that Antivan developed from Tevene, and they haven't diverged too much yet. I'd say it'd be like being a German speaker learning Dutch. The trick is keeping your own first language out of your target language's turn of phrase. Zevran and Rhodri both pick up each other's language without too much trouble once they're living under the same roof again after Awakening.
23 What sort of routines, rituals or rules do they have or set for themselves? (What is her procedure to make herself comfortable after a long day of work? Bold question, may be a tad bit personal, if so please ignore)
Rhodri, who has been watching me type all this for her, has asked me to pass on that, 'iucundis can ask me anything at all, and we will not be ignoring this question,' so there you have it!
I don't think there's anything very specific to the busier days that would feature, to be honest. Her schedule is embedded with the things needed to keep her comfortable. When she was a little sprout and had come home from a long day, she was often fairly tense, especially if she'd gotten dirty. Her folks found that the best solution was to drop her in the bath and read to her, and then give her dinner. Most problems can be fixed by getting clean and having a good meal, really.
Even now, bath and food works wonders. Bathing with company or without, she doesn't mind. (Ironically enough, given its fussiness about modesty, Tevinter has a big bathhouse culture, and friends and family love a day out together at the spa/baths.)
That aside, if she's tired or stressed, it's more painful as a rule to deviate from the schedule, so if she has things that need to be done, she's found that it's better to half-arse them to get to bath/food/bed quicker. Dealing with the fallout is Tomorrow Rhodri's problem. My little rebel. <3
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weishenmaa · 2 years
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我的故事 My Story is such a powerful song after all these years. I’m working on translating it right now, it’s so impactful. It really describes Wei’s life and situation, honestly it’s a masterpiece I’m just AUGH. A man who’s forced to lead this life of violence and feeling like he’s losing parts of himself. And knowing it was made for the game, to mirror Weis story gives you some insight into his feelings and pain. You can really feel the emotion in the rappers voice, I just feel so moved by it just WOW
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janeyre · 3 months
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just finished the ballad of songbirds and snakes….. oh my fucking god
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foxstens · 1 year
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reached the end of brotherhood
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iluvjacobelordi777 · 4 months
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Oops...
[Josh Futturman x Female Reader]
POV: You and Josh are bffs, but a seemingly normal visit to his house takes an unexpected turn...
Warnings: Masturbation, pnv, mommy kink (????), idk just like pure smut (plus Josh being a needy, whimpering bottom 😜) ((sorry guys I had writers block so this is like the worst thing I’ve ever written))
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You and Josh have been friends for years. Your houses are next door to each other so you hang out every day. One of you will walk over to the others house after school and spend the rest of the evening there. Even on weekends you'd hang out all day. So your decision to walk over this one Saturday wasn't out of the ordinary.
You show up to his house and let yourself in with the copy of his key that he gave you. You call out his name, only he doesn't respond. He was supposed to be home alone all day. Suddenly, you hear a strange noise coming from his room.
He must be playing a video game or something. You whisper to yourself, walking towards his bedroom
As you lean into his room you see that his eyes are closed. His hand is moving fast, his pants are at his ankles.
“Fuck... y/n-” He moaned.
You froze. Was he thinking about... you????
Holy fuck. Shit... SHIT!
You start to back out of the doorway and try not to make any noise, but end up bumping into the door. He looks up at you in shock.
“Y/n… Jesus… I thought you had plans today what are you doing here… God damn… Did you have to barge in here like this?” Josh grumbles, covering himself.
"Well... I had my key copy and I just thought I'd come say hi. I'm so sorry I-"
"Let me know next time don't just-"
Just say it just say it just say it
"Do you want me to help you? You know... finish?"
Josh’s jaw dropped. “You… Are you for real?”
You had been friends for so long, but there had always been something there. Some kind of unspoken tension pulling you together.
"Yeah... if you want"
He swallowed his pride. “I mean… yeah- yes, please.”
You walk over to him pulling off your jeans and leaving them on the floor, your shirt is next. You straddle him on his chair and he quickly removes your bra, massaging your bare breasts. He kisses your chest and neck. He keeps looking up into your eyes, like he's pleading without saying a word.
The only thing separating your heat from him is the thin layer of your underwear. You grind on his lap, making him moan.
"Please... fuck. Just let me... inside," he whimpers.
"Ok, ok."
You take off your underwear throwing them on the floor and slowly lower yourself down onto his throbbing cock. You both moan as he sinks into you. He begins to thrust into you helplessly, hitting your g-spot with ease. Your clit rubbing against his pelvis as you ride him. It doesn't take long before he's a whimpering mess underneath you.
"Fuck... mommy. Please-"
Woah. You had been called mommy before a few times but this was different. Hearing him say it so helplessly felt different. It felt great. HE felt great. Who would have thought Josh of all people would make you feel so good?
"You're doing so good, baby, keep going. Almost there."
He pushes into you with ease, your bodies fitting together like a puzzle. His big dick pushing up into your cervix as he grabs your waist to keep you steady.
He whimpers and moans, so close to finishing. All it takes a few more sloppy thrusts to put you both over the edge. You clench around him and he twitches inside of you. His cum spilling out of you as you ride out your climaxes.
Breathlessly, Josh says, "Shit... well that was unexpected. I guess now we have to have a whole 'what are we' talk and try not to ruin our friendship and stuff so you know, thanks for that."
You smirk at him. "Oops"
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bartxnhood · 1 year
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right here waiting | f.o
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finnic odair x fem!reader
summary: after the quarter quell you vanish, no sign, no trace. you left behind your boyfriend, finnick, who could just not wrap his head around your disappearance. what happened?
warnings: typical hunger games violence, blood, torture, strong language, descriptions of wounds.
a/n: this fic is a long time coming. i love finnick and is one of my favorite characters but i can never find the right storyline for his character. it’s also been a hot minute since i’ve watched the movies so if there are any inaccuracies just look away lmao. hopefully, i can continue to write for him. i hope you guys enjoy this one !! feedback is appreciated ! also since i haven’t written in a very long time this came out shorter than i wanted it too. sorry about that.
requests open
not proofread
Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
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“run!!” your voice echoed, the dome was collapsing. “finnick, run!” you turned around, grabbing his wrist to pull you along. the arena was exploding as you tried your best to dodge the debris. katniss had used one of her arrows and shot the border of the arena causing it to collapse. now, all the victors began to spread out to take cover from the panels.
“holy shit, y/n, look out!!” finnick was ripped from your grasp as the ground below you rumbled and sent you falling.
"y/n!? “y/n!" you could hear someone calling your name in the distance, it was a panicked finnick searching the forest floor for your body. you opened your eyes trying to search for him but your vision was too blurry. everything was spinning. "finnick."
in seconds you were back on the ground and eyes falling back, slipping into unconsciousness.
it had been weeks since your disappearance, at first most people just assumed you had died that day in the arena. either by debris or the capital, but finnick knew that you were still out there somewhere.
for finnick, it was a nightmare. he barely left his room. every day that you stayed missing he slowly began to lose hope that he’d find you again. so, he began to mourn.
he was almost unrecognizable. finnick was letting himself go. he began to neglect his health, he refused to eat, he couldn’t sleep, and he was killing himself.
guilt heavy on his shoulders after losing you, even though the people around him had assured him that your disappearance wasn’t his fault. but finnick thought that had he held on to your hand just a little tighter you would’ve made it out.
katniss came to him one day, finding him lying on his bed staring at the ceiling like any other day. “this isn’t like you.” she stated. finnicks eyes found her, standing at the edge of his bed. the girl sighed, crossing her arms. “you’re killing yourself.” he shrugged. “what else am i supposed to do?” “fight for her?” “how?” katniss fell silent, she wasn’t sure how to proceed with the news she had just received. slowly, she moved to his side and sat down. “she’s alive.”
everything froze, he was sure he even stopped breathing. finnick sat up slowly so he could face katniss. “what?” “she’s in the capitol. with peeta.”
the bright fluorescent light of the hospital room burned your eyes, you brought your hand over your eyes to adjust to the light. once your eyes adjusted to the light you scanned your surroundings. you looked at your hand, you had an iv in, and you heard the faint beeping of the monitor next to you.
what happened? how did you get out? where were you? you barely remembered what happened in the capitol, it was all a blur. you began to panic, searching around the room wondering if you could get out.
the door opened, and you looked to your left and saw someone entering. “kat?” your voice was scratchy and hoarse. she now stood at your bedside holding your hand. she hummed, “hi, y/n/n”. “thank god” you breathed, tears welling in your eyes. “i thought id never see you again” katniss hushed your cries, wiping away the tears falling from your eyes. “shh, it’s okay. you’re okay” she smiled. caressing your cheek.
you had lost a lot of weight at this point, your face was sunken in. your body thinner than it had ever been, and you were beyond exhausted both physically and mentally. “oh, honey” she coaxed. you held onto her hand tightly, “there’s someone here who wants to see you.” she gently escaped from your grasp, walking to the exit.
"fin. you breathed, watching him enter the room. it felt like a dream you had wanted to see him for so long. it felt like an eternity. the one you loved so dearly, the one who has saved your life multiple times. "y/n" he walked over to your bedside. he was hesitant at first, but when you held your hand out for him he gained confidence.
"you're here." you weakly smiled, reaching for his hand. he found himself on the edge of your bed, holding you
“of course i am, sweets. where else would i be?" he chuckled softly, and you hummed. you brought your hand to his cheek. you examined his face and he placed his hands on yours. finnick studied you, making sure to soak in every detail.
"you'll never have to go through that again, y/n. i promise i'll do anything to keep you safe." he kissed the top of your head.
you smiled as he pulled back, and tears fell from your eyes again. "i know, fin" you said softly. "you look tired, love" he sighed. it had been such a long time since you'd been in his embrace, you missed everything about him. his jokes, snarky comments, his grin. he was your everything. "i am." you hummed, while he sat holding your hand. “rest, i’ll be right here when you wake up.”
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artists-ally · 6 months
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{Only Me and the Devil Know} Azriel x Reader
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So. I have no real explanation for this other than I was ready this AMAZING fic and it sparked an idea. That’s it. That all I can say. I’m already blushing. Blow up my inbox, comments, and dm's with your thoughts! Enjoy <3 Title from this song. (Ps. Thank you for all the support on the teaser????? You guys are insane I love you all so much)
Word Count: 12,169 (HOLY SHIT)
Warnings: SMUT. like seriously, this is nasty. Pre-established relationship and consent, CNC, dom/sub, role play (predator and prey), pet names (dove!reader and master!Azriel), breath play, overstimulation and forced orgasms, bondage, spanking, oral (m&f), breeding kink, degrading, humiliation, masochism, stalking, biting, minor blood.
Summary: Azriel has had this fantasy of you that he's been terrified to ask you to partake in. After explaining and agreeing, fear and desire blur together in a terrifying game of predator vs. prey.
Tagging: @librafairy @needylilgal022 @bunnymallowo
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The tip of the sun caressed my skin through the window, gently waking me from whatever dream I had been having. My shoulder ached from having slept on it a little weird, and my eyes were bleary. 
I wandered to the kitchen that overlooked the hills, boiling some water for some tea. When I looked around the room, I felt this sense of pride for how far I’ve come in this little city. Everything was as it should be. 
After breakfast, I changed for the day. The familiar worn in overalls slipped on, tucking the ends into my boots. I threw on a long sleeve shirt, the beginning of fall nipping through the window. While it was nice to have a change of seasons, it made me sad to have to say goodbye to some of the flowers and vegetation of the summer. 
I packed a lunch and headed out, locking the door behind me. The walk this early in the morning was always therapeutic; chirping birds and herd of deer along the edges of the forest across the meadow. The dirt and stones crunched under my feet as I walked down the self-forged path to my shop on the corner.
I pulled the sign from my little alley and set it up to display the new deals and sales. On my door was a folded piece of paper with my name in some of the most incredible font I’ve ever seen. 
“Oh my sweet little dove, you look so precious in that outfit of yours. With your hair braided down your head. You don’t even know my name and yet I scream yours every night. Don’t worry, I already know everything about you.”
My heart dropped. I whirled around and looked down the street. The sun hadn’t even come up yet, so maybe whoever left it was still out there. No one. No one was around besides me. The breeze rustles my wind chimes, making it feel even more eerie. 
What the fuck?
I read it over again, not recognizing the handwriting. I quickly unlock the door and lock it behind me. I quietly step through the shop, checking if there’s anyone inside. Maybe I shouldn’t have locked myself in here.
No one was inside, and I blew a sigh of relief. With my head on a constant swivel, I went about my day, checking every corner of every room I went in. A friend of mine, Cece, stopped by in the afternoon. She clearly noticed the wariness in my eyes.
“Someone just left it on your door? Yn, why don’t you report it?” She asked, disgust written in her eyebrows as she looked at it again and again. 
“Well, who would I report it to?” I shrugged. 
“Hmm, let me think. Oh, I don’t know, maybe our High Lord?” I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm. “Yn, it’s not safe! Someone is obviously stalking you.”
“I’m fine.” I lied. I was a wreck. A complete boneless, nervous wreck. Cece knew. 
“Yn-”
“I can handle myself,” I shook my head. “If I need to, I have a dagger under the cash register.”
“Yeah because that’ll stop a full grown male,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m just worried, Yn. I don’t wanna have anything happen to you. Especially when we can prevent it.”
“I will be alright, don’t worry about me,” I waved off. “If I feel unsafe I’ll let you know. And Damien is right next door, surely he’ll be able to help if something goes wrong.”
With a sharp inhale, and an obvious disagreeing tone, she left it alone. I didn’t feel unsafe here, and it was the middle of the day. Who would attack someone in the middle of the day? In public nonetheless. 
____
There wasn’t a note on the door the next day, thank the Cauldron, and I began planning for the town’s annual solstice celebration. It was still a few months away, but I had to preserve some flowers for the winter in order to make holiday arrangements. 
I designed and sketched wreaths, garlands and some other things to be put into production. Having to hand make all of them was a pain, and I usually hired some more help to get things done a lot faster. 
It was a rare slow day, and I enjoyed the peace and quiet. I watered and swept, wiping down tables and shelves. I couldn’t shake this feeling no matter how hard I tried. I felt like I was being watched. And there was this chill in the air. Inside my shop, which always remained in the seventies for the plants. 
But it was cold. I checked the thermostat, and it was still where it needed to be. Why did it feel so fucking cold?
Maybe It was just me, and I was getting a little sick. 
Whatever it was, it followed me all the way home. I knew my eyes were playing tricks on me. I kept seeing things in the shadows move, but whenever I got closer, nothing was there. Yup, definitely being paranoid now. 
The next morning was the same; no note, but this agonizing feeling that I was being watched no matter where I was. I was still cold and could do nothing to warm up. I helped an older female find something for her granddaughter who had a music recital tonight. When I looked across the counter at her, there was nothing but my counter– and the flowers and her purse. But I dropped one of the coins and I bent to pick it up. 
There was a note on the counter. With my name. In the same handwriting as before. 
My throat closed, fingers tingling with panic. I quickly helped the lady along and stared at the piece of paper. Where the fuck did it come from. It was literally there in a second. What the actually fuck is going on?
“My dove, you know it’s rude to not write back. I don’t take kindly to indecency. But you won’t be able to avoid me forever. Rest up, dove. You’ll need it.”
Need it for what? My heart thundered against my ribs. Surely I should report this, but… but I didn’t want to. I don’t know why I didn’t want to, but I didn’t. It was probably just some kid trying to scare me. I kept telling myself that, but it hardly worked when I left, constantly checking over my shoulder. 
I needed to head down the street to grab something for dinner. On the corner of the road was a group of people chatting loudly, a couple walking in front of me. There were people around. Good. 
The Serpentine Supply was the only grocery store open this late. I made my way through the isles and plucked whatever looked good off the shelves. I could surely make… something with all of this. 
When I headed out, there was no group on the corner. No couple walking in front of me. No crickets or last minute birds tucking themselves in for the night. 
A silhouette was the only thing I saw. Tall, so tall, and muscular. A creeping shadow behind the figure, and as it moved, it revealed wings. So enormous they touched the ground despite his height. 
I could almost recognize the face, but it looked vague. Like I had seen it before, but couldn’t recall where. Surely I’d remember a face that beautiful. Clearly High Fae. He shouldered off the wall, eyes set on me. I fled, almost dropping my bag, bolting in the opposite direction towards my home.
I heaved as I fell against the inside of my door. Curling my legs up, I listened for footsteps until I remembered the male had wings. Wings. 
Fear coursed through me and I went to the safe under the cabinet in my room. I twisted the dial and plucked the dagger in my palm. I couldn’t breathe, let alone eat, so I sat at my kitchen table and waited to see if he would try to follow me in.
It could’ve just been a random male, I told myself. And it was probably more likely. 
But what if that was- no. I can’t terrorize myself like that. This is all coincidental and I’m blowing all of this out of proportion. There is no reason someone would want to hurt me. But then again sometimes you don’t have to do something to have people want you-
Nope. Not going there. 
_____
With basket in tow, I walked up the hillside to my personal field. Rows of still-in-season flowers greeted me as I rounded the crest. I lifted up my skirt and bent down, plucking the last of the summer blooms to be stored for the winter. 
I was so happy when I discovered the preservation technique last Solstice so everyone could enjoy these beautiful flowers year round. I laid them all in the same direction, careful to not destroy the delicate petals. 
It was actually a nice day, and the sun was warm despite a cooler breeze. The sundress I had put on was one I’ve worn a thousand times, the hemp dulled and frayed from years of wear and play in the dirt picking flowers and gardening. It was lightweight and easy to maneuver in. My feet were bare. No real need for shoes out here. I liked feeling the dirt between my toes anyway, shoes just got in the way and made my feet sweat. 
I picked up a dahlia and laid it in the basket, reaching for another before I shrieked. 
A dark tendril of something circled around it, through the petals and drenching it in darkness. I launched back away from it, hands breaking my fall. 
“My dove, don’t you look pretty today,” a voice crept down my spine. I had only then realized I backed up into something solid. I scrambled, staring up at the figure. I had to shield my eyes from the sun, but a winged silhouette blocked it a second later.
Oh shit.
My brain fogged and words were long forgotten.
“It’s okay, dove. Don’t be afraid,” he spoke. His mouth curled into a feline smile when he took a step towards me, and I scooted back. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Oh, my pretty prey, don’t you see? You can’t run. You’re all alone out here, aren’t you?”
I shouldn’t answer, I can’t let him know that I’m all alone.
“N-No,” I stuttered, breathless and boneless. “No, I am not alone.”
“Don’t lie to me,” his tone sent a ripple down my back. “Even if you weren’t alone, there’d be nothing anyone could do.”
Fear prowled through me, and I think he could sense that. I anchored myself to the ground, prepared to bolt at any second and try to put as much distance as I could. Would it be useless? Probably. Would I go down with a fight? Absolutely. I’d kick and scream and-
“It’s so adorable to watch you think you have a chance,” he tilted his head, bending down over me. I took in those wings, that sharp jaw and even sharper eyes. His skin was flushed with a fine layer of sweat, and he smelled like an inferno. 
My core tightened. My fingers and toes were numb with dread. 
“Such a shame. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t ever be left alone. Someone could just come right up to you and take you as their own.” “I told you I’m not alone,” I bit out. 
He chuckled. Void of any real amusement and full of predatory hunger. “It’s okay, dove. I only want to take you for a little while, show you all the things that delicate body does to me. Only when I am satisfied will I give you back.”
A sob shuddered through me as he gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “P-Please don’t- please don’t hurt me-”
“Oh, I will. But it will feel so good for you. You’re going to cry. And beg. And scream. All for me. You’ll realize that no other male will be able to make you feel the things I can make you.” His voice was of the smoothest silk, but the words were so wrong. So repulsing. It certainly didn’t help when he looked so striking. 
I swallowed, nothing going down. I shook with nothing but fear when his hand traveled down my chin, to my neck. He gripped, not cutting off air, but firm enough I knew I was fucked. I couldn’t move, I was paralyzed by his eyes. 
This was it. This was going to happen. 
I have to try and run. I have to try. I looked up and down his body, at his midsection crouched over my legs. I kicked up as hard as I could, sending him to the ground with a groan. I scrambled, as fast as I could, to my suddenly limp feet and ran. I sprinted into the woods, not daring to look back to see if he was following. I knew he was following.
My chest burned with the need for oxygen. I zig-zaged through the trees, stepping on branches and sharp stones. When I screamed, nothing came out. My voice was dead in my throat and I couldn’t scream. It felt like I was in a nightmare. Where all laws of physics are wiped away for the sake of terror.
How far I ran I didn’t know, but I couldn’t see my meadow from wherever I was. Who knew what was in these woods? I slowed my pace a little to catch my breath. I walked– more like jogging– through the thick brush. Thorns and bugs tore up my arms and legs. 
Great. Now the sun was going down. Normally a Velaris sunset would put a beaming smile on my face. Right now? It only filled me with worry. 
The soles of my feet were cut and filled with dirt. My trembling had slowed, but every new snap of a twig had it tumbling back into me. I kept my gaze on the vegetation in front of me, careful not to step on too many branches. The last thing I needed was to send a ripple of sound to what/whoever was after me.
I smacked face first into a tree. So hard my vision danced away from me. The back of my head hit the forest floor and I groaned, hugging it close to my chest. As I rolled onto my shoulder, I was forced onto my stomach. My voice filled me when I saw the scarred hand, belonging to the male I thought I left in the field. 
“Where are you going, my prey? You think you can outrun a predator like me? Aww, my dove. You should know I love the chase, to see the fear in your eyes. Fear is one of our most primal instincts, fleeing only makes me want to hunt.” 
He was heavy on top of me, hand fisting in my hair to force me up. I tried to fight against it, but I couldn’t move. 
“Run again and I will have no choice but to hurt you. Though I bet you’d beg me to keep going.”
In a second, that same tendril-like shadow surrounded us. It filled every pore of my skin, every hole in my body. I felt like I was suffocating. That I was choking and couldn’t do anything to clear the obstruction. My eyes watered and I shrieked in my head. 
As fast as it was there, it was gone. I sucked in breaths, coughing up the saliva that was trapped in my throat. When I opened my eyes, I had no idea where I was. The cold, smooth concrete under my palms and knees was no indicator. There was no light except a singular bulb overhead. There was a table in the middle bound with leather, and a wall lined with different weapons and tools.
“Have no fear, dove. I won’t be using all of them on you today,” the voice echoed, and I spun around, trying to find it. He was nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Panicking, I ran towards one wall, hoping to find a door. I pounded at it with everything I had, nothing giving away.
It was solid stone.
“Please let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone about this,” I pleaded, sinking into the farthest corner. “Please I won’t-”
“I know you won’t, my dove,” the male emerged from the shadows. “But I don’t care.” Tears rolled down my cheeks. “I don’t want this. Please, sir-”
“Master.” his voice boomed into the room. “Call me anything other than master and there will be consequences.”
I cowered against the wall, legs tucked up under myself. Maybe if I appease him then… “Please master I-”
“Would you look at that,” he grinned. A feral grin with a promise to bring pain. “My dove knows how to take orders. So good to know you have a desire deep down to please and cooperate.”
“I don’t want this.”
“I know you don’t, and that’s what makes me want you more, dove,” he knelt down in front of me again, tucking away some of the hairs in my face. Under any other circumstance, I’d find the movement comforting, reassuring maybe. This? This was haunting. Make-your-stomach-blanche haunting. 
“What do you want from me?” I asked, daring a look in his green eyes. In another setting, I’d find them beautiful. But not this one. 
“I’ve already told you. I will return you when I am satisfied,” the male flashed his white teeth. “Get up.”
He yanked me by my bicep and hurtled me out of the corner. My feet stumbled and he kept me upright, dragging me to the table. My lower back aches when I crash into it, but the table didn’t move. I gripped the edge for dear life while my eyes stayed locked on my captor. 
My heart begged me to find safety. But there wasn’t a door, not a window in this chamber. 
“Where am I?”
“Far from anything, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ll take care of you, my dove. I won’t be kind, but I don’t want to kill you.”
Was it comforting? Sort of. Not really. No, it wasn’t comforting in any way. This male, this winged male, was going to do whatever he wanted. I’m at his mercy. His to play with, to decide what to do with, and I had no say in the process or the outcome. 
He turned to face me after looking at the wall of tools and things. “Oh dove, why didn’t you say you were needy?”
I blinked at him, shifting on my feet. “I’m not needy. I just want to be let go.”
“You think I can’t smell the sweet scent between those legs of yours?” His gaze darkened, traveling up and down my trembling body. “I bet if I touched you you’d arch into me, wouldn’t you? You're all messy and ready for me, aren’t you?”
I shook my head, biting my lip. His massive hand wrapped around my throat, pulling me inches from his face. He ducked his head down, planting a kiss right below my ear. I shivered. No no no no no this was not about to happen. 
His teeth nipped my ear and he exhaled, sending uninvited goosebumps across my arms and legs. 
“Despite your best efforts,” he whispered, breath skimming me ignited skin. “You are arching into me. You want me to touch you, don’t you?”
I couldn’t move my head with his grip, which only tightened when I didn’t come up with a response quick enough. “No, no I don’t want you to touch me.”
“Pity,” he said. “Your body says otherwise. Even though I frighten you, have you at my will, you find it thrilling, little dove. Aww, see? You’re so hungry for my touch, my mouth, that you can’t even stay still. I know my dove needs it, she’s such a slut already and I haven’t even done anything.”
Impossible. It was impossible not to writhe at his words. Heat flooded my body in a moment. No, don’t want this. This is wrong. This is so fucking wrong.
He let out a cruel laugh, the vibrations prickling my skin. He manipulated my head where he wanted, pressing his mouth up my neck, across my collarbones. My eyes lulled shut, unintentionally letting my head fall back. 
“Good girl, my dove.”
I gasped as his teeth grazed right where my vein pulsed under my skin. His hand roughly grabbed my hips and lifted me onto the table. They forced my knees apart and he stepped into the space. I whimpered.
“So vocal,” his voice was criminally sleek. “Be as loud as you want dove, no one can hear you scream.”
Again, not comforting.
“W-What are you going to do to me?” My voice bobbled, especially when he pulled off my body and stared at me. 
“Ask me one more time and I will make you regret it.” There was no room for negotiation in his voice. “But, since you are such a curious little whore, I guess we can get started.”
The world whirled around me as he forced me chest down. I hung over the edge, blood rushing to my face. His hands grabbed the neckline of my dress and ripped it down the zipper. The bitterness of the dark room chilled me to my core. 
A single one of his fingers felt its way down my spine. I kicked out, wiggling away from his fine touch. That finger left my back and came down hard on my ass. A scream tore through my body. The sting boomed across my skin, definitely leaving a raised welt in the shape of his hand. 
“Keep still.” He ordered. I panted with the force of that smack. “I mean it dove, I don’t want to hurt you… too bad anyway.”
I tried to hold still as his hands explored my body. They were firm which helped. I could predict the patterns of his hands and the tension slowly slipped from my body. I relaxed a shoulder down to the table, then let my legs dangle. 
“See? You’re already growing accustomed to my touch. Such a good little girl, my dove. I will reward you, you can keep pretending you don’t crave me as much as I crave you.” 
My body was betraying me. I have this type of reaction. It was wrong. On so many levels.
But my goodness was he a stunning male. 
Why I relaxed as he lifted the hem of my skirt up, I couldn’t ever say. But I was more embarrassed when he cooed at me, a soft, almost sweet noise coming from deep in his chest. 
“Aww,” he sighed. “Nothing under this? All prepped and ready for me, dove? I should have known how much of a whore you’d be for more. So kind of you to make it so easy for me to use you. To have my unwavering way.”
“Master I- please don’t do this to me-”
“And would you look at that?” He palmed my ass apart. “You are a soaking wet mess. I am two for two, I wonder what else I am right about. I think you’ll like it when I touch you, so much you’ll come apart just after a few strokes. I think I can get you to cum on my cock as many times as I want, until you’re an incoherent, slobbering mess. What do you think, dove? If you agree I’ll make you feel sooo good.”
I was quivering. Fuck, he had been right. And I felt so ashamed about it. Nothing about this should be arousing, and yet, he was completely right. Cauldron boil me for this.
I nodded. Despite all the bells and whistles telling me to fight and keep going. I nodded. 
“I knew you’d come around,” I could hear the sinister smile in his voice. “Get up, dove.”
Slowly, I lowered my feet to the ground and turned to face him. He reached around me and pressed a switch on the table. It began to move, angling itself on a slant. A panel came out at the bottom and the male flipped it up. “Step.”
Uh oh. 
With a wary look at him, I stepped onto the small metal platform barely big enough to place my feet on. I face him, the dress barely clinging to my body. He grabbed one of my wrists and forced it over my head. A cuff of leather latched around it. 
When I tried to yank it away, his free hand wound around my throat, cutting off all oxygen. I gargled, going slack in his grip. 
“I told you if you tried to get away, I’d have to hurt you,” he shook his head. “My prey hasn’t learned her lesson.”
My eyes widened as he grabbed something off the wall behind me. The second he rounded to where I could see him, my heart blazed in my chest. There was a small sword in his hand and he spined it between his fingers aimlessly. 
With two light-blurring moves of his arm, he cut off the sleeves to my dress and it pooled around my feet. I don’t know when I closed my eyes, but then they were open, staring down at my now naked body. “Defy my order again and I’ll cut you, do you understand?” I nodded vigorously. 
I still had one hand free, and I used it to try and cover myself. The male watched me twist and turn under his stare. 
“Looks like I still have something to take care of,” he looked at the hand that was shielding the space between my thighs. Within a minute, he had gained control of my hand and I was tied up. Completely naked and exposed to him. “Much better.”
I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say. So I stayed quiet. I just watched his every move. 
“What to do with you first,” he tapped his chin. “I should punish you for trying to get away from me again. But I think I just want to play with you a little bit more.”
He pressed another button, and the table tilted back so it wasn’t such a steep incline. My arms were already feeling strained as I tugged at the cuffs around my wrists. Most of my weight fell on my back, but gods my arms ached already. 
This was it. Nothing I can do to stop this. Fear and dread and every other emotion bubbled up and out, sobs wracking through my chest. 
“Don’t be afraid my dove,” his voice was anything but soothing as he dragged his fingers down my cheek. “I will make you feel so many good things. See? I only want to ruin you for anyone other than me. That’s it, my prey.”
His hand pinned my leg to the table, basically covering the entire thigh with his hand. He was so big. From his hands to his wings, even his shoulders were massive and otherworldly. A finger brushed up the crease of my hip, dipping into the mess on my skin. I jolted when he slid that finger between the tops of my thighs. 
It was so light, so gentle in comparison to how he’s been. With a shaky breath, my eyes fluttered shut as I let him touch me. 
“So soft, dove,” he praised. “Let's see how you taste. I hope it’s as sweet as those flowers of yours smell.” He let his tongue curl out and around the pad of his middle finger, eyes locked on mine. With a hum of approval, he grinned. “My dear dove, you taste so wonderful. I am going to undo you so many times so I can taste you over and over again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Yeah I know you do. Don’t worry, I will make you, whether you want to or not.”
Chills spread down my back and I arched off the table when he stuck two fingers inside me. It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel great. Not until his thumb brushed over my clit, making me jump viscously. 
“Tell me what you want, dove.” 
I had to calm the inferno in my mind before I could speak. “Just- please…”
“Please what? Use those words of yours, slut. Or are you already too fucked out to form sentences?” That wicked mouth of his didn’t make it any easier.
“I want… more,” it came out a whisper. So tentative and meek I wasn’t sure if I had said it out loud. 
“You want more, my prey?” I nodded. He let out a soul crippling laugh. “Just remember, you asked for this.”
His fingers picked up, and his mouth latched onto my breast. Teeth bit into the skin, and I knew it was the first mark of many to come. There was nothing to do except take what he was giving me. And right now, it didn’t feel bad. Pleasure ripped through with another brush of his thumb and my core tightened. 
Sweat pricked my skin, my hair itching the back of my neck. I was so hyper aware of everything going on with my body it was impossible to focus on anything else other than that it started to feel good. Fuck. I was giving in. I need to resist. This was- this was wrong. And yet I was… I was enjoying it? He had to have drugged me or- or cast some sort of spell to make me react to his touch. I couldn’t find any of this desirable, could I?
“Would you like to cum, dove?” He stilled his hands, but my hips kept moving. “Are you that desperate? That you’re fucking yourself on my fingers?”
I stopped immediately. My mouth gaped open and closed for a response, but nothing came. 
Two heartbeats later he shoved his fingers in so deep I pulled on the chains so hard I began to lift myself away from his touch. He pinned my thigh back to the table and circled my clit, drawing noises from me I so desperately wanted to keep inside. 
There wasn’t anything I could do to convince him that I was repulsed by this. Because he and I both knew that I was into it. Problematically into all of this. I didn’t want to admit it to myself. I couldn’t let that little bit of control I needed to ground me. What control did I actually have? I had no power. Nothing to hold over him. 
I was tied. To a table. In a room without a door. Cauldron knows where I am. Of course I had no power here. 
But it… it filled me with fear. This primal fear, just like he said. And I couldn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted. And that was… that was…
Pleasure ripped through me, forcing me to arch off the table and scream out. I hadn’t given my body permission to lean into this. Fuck fuck fuck. It felt so good, his fingers pushing me further down that fine line between reality and euphoria. 
“My dove, that was quick,” his eyes were full of hunger. And so were mine. “I knew you would come around. I knew a slut like you would give into those animalistic behaviors at some point. Now the rest of this will be seamless. All you have to do is stay there and let me fuck you until you go dumb with it.”
My legs were shaking, my pussy clenching on nothing as he ripped them from my body. I might have moaned. Just maybe. 
The male hit the button again and my legs flew down to help support my weight. I had to press on my toes to take some of the pressure off my wrists; pins and needles shot down my fingers and arms from the lack of blood. 
“What do you say, dove? Should I make you cum again? Yeah, I think I’m going to.”
He knelt to the floor and grabbed the back of my calf. I watched, still heaving from my first orgasm. He let it fall over his shoulder, doing the same with the other. Was he going to- oooh gods….
The first pass of his tongue sent my head rolling back, eyes with it. I bucked my hips into his face, meeting his carnal stare. He grinned, chin glistening with my mess. He looked… fuck he looked good. All those sharp, cunning features between my legs. My mind melted and all my morals went with it. 
Here I was: chained to a table with a sadistic, obsessive male, and I was loving the sight of him between my legs. What the fuck is wrong with me? I didn’t have time to answer my own question as content filled me. He lapped over every inch of my entrance and didn’t let up. 
“Gods… fuck- forgive me,” I whimpered out, feeling this overwhelming sensation begin to break apart my seams. I gasped, then screamed. His teeth latched onto the inside of my thigh. He bit me. Hard. Forceful enough to bring tears up and forceful enough to make me bleed. 
“Now if any other male tries to take you, they’ll see my bite and know that if they don’t get out they’re going to be in a world of pain,” he muttered, brushing away the drops of blood with his hand. He resumed the flicks of his tongue, not letting up when I began to see stars.
“Ple-Please,” I shout, arching off the inclined surface and clamping my legs around his head. In a second, I was pinned to the table, his nails digging into the skin of my thighs. A brutal hand came down right over the bite, and I screamed. Fuck that hurt. “Ah- stop.”
“Why? Does it hurt, my prey? It’s fucking supposed to. Now shut the fuck up and take it. Stop acting like you don’t love this.” 
I cried out, his tongue darting up and down my core. My stomach tightened in that familiar way, but I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of another release. I had given him what he wanted, wasn’t that enough?
“Stop holding back.” Another claw of his nails at the backs of my thighs. “Cum now or I will make the next one far less enjoyable.”
I obeyed. I didn’t have a choice. My body just did it. I yelped, straining against the bindings so hard I knew they’d cut my wrists. With my hips pinned under his powerful hold, I twitched and writhed and shook with the force of my second orgasm. I couldn’t stop shaking. Couldn’t stop whining and begging him to stop licking me. 
The male didn’t let up and tears fell out of my lashes. I sobbed. Sobbed. It was too much, too much pressure and pleasure it hurt. It stung. It burned and added to the ever growing pins and needles in my arms. They were numb, and couldn’t keep me up anymore. 
My body flops fully against the table as he keeps a firm grip on me. 
“M-Master please stop-” I begged, “please I need a break.”
Alas, he pulled his head away from my throbbing pussy. The sight of him was… Cauldron spare me. His hair was a tangled mess, and his eyes were full of his pupils. Black, affectionless pits in his face. He looked exactly as he said he was, a predator. A true, hungry, wild predator. 
And I had made him that way. 
“I’m far from done, my dove,” he rose to his full height, tilting the table all the way back. Relief flooded my arms. “I think you’re ready for something else.”
He came around to my head and I watched him, upside down, the light hurting my eyes. He shed the belt around his waist and let it fall to the floor with a loud ‘clang’. His scarred hand put the button through its slit and I could see the outline of him through his pants. 
Holy Mother send me a blessing.
“Yeah, you’re gonna be able to fit it.” “No,” I shook my head. “No that will not fit in my-”
“Well, it’s going to. Open wide, pretty dove. Fuck… look at you. All spread out for me, pink and flush. You look so mouthwatering. So perfect for me to ruin and bruise.”
With another click of a button, the cuffs above my head began to move down. The blood rushed back and I sighed out. They were now at my sides. When I dared a look back up, the male had dropped his pants. Mother fucking- that is not going to-
“Open,” He demanded, palming my jaw. I was in too much shock at the sheer size to really hear it. A slap struck me in the face, and I jolted to the side. “Now. Make me ask again and see what I will do with this.”
My jaw unhinged and he slipped in. I choked, bending my legs to try and gain some leverage. Cool streaks slithered up my feet and around my ankles. they yanked, the force of it pulling me off his cock, and I looked down at the tendrils of shadow curled around my skin. 
“What the fuck-” I shouted until I couldn’t breathe anymore. The male had come around the front of my head and slammed a hand against my throat. The pressure built up in my face, and I coughed, choking on what little air I had left. His eyes were narrow, a snarl on his lips. 
After a few moments, the stars were back, and the room dimmed. Heart pounding. I was right there, so close to losing consciousness when air rushed back into my lungs. I thought I was going to throw up with how hard I was breathing. 
He grabbed my hair and forced me down, shoving his cock back into my throat. All the way. I gagged. I was fully stretched out on the table as he rocked his hips into me. He was tall enough that the table wasn’t a hindrance. 
“I told you dove, bad things happen when you disobey me.”
He almost put me unconscious. My head was foggy, and my vision was still laced with stars. I had no other choice but to take what he was doing. Just like he said I would.
When I closed my eyes, I let my throat relax. He praised me, sinking in further and further. Every other thrust I got a breath. He pulled out once and let the tip of his cock trace around my lips so I could catch a breath. Instead of waiting for him to decide when I was done, I stuck my tongue out in acceptance. 
“My prey is learning so quickly,” he stroked a massive hair down my throat, pressing in. I could feel it prod against the surface of my skin, right where his hand was. “I bet you can feel that, huh? How far down I am?” A quick clench of his digits sent fear rolling back through my body. I couldn’t breathe again- “Shh, I won’t let you suffocate on my cock. There are far too many things we still have left to do. Just relax- that’s it. Look at you! Such a pretty whore, already wrung out on my cock. And I haven’t even been inside you.”
I swallowed around him when he removed his hand. That earned me a deep, rumbling sound from his chest. In the past couple minutes, his voice had dimmed to nothing but a growl. Like he was turning into an animal.
It was so thrilling. 
With every snap of his hips, my whole body rocked with it. Wetness pooled onto the table and I could feel it smear against my skin. He reached down and pulled at my nipple, sending shocks all through my body. “Yeah you can take more. I want you a whimpering mess, you still have a ways to go, don’t you dove?” I nodded my head as best I could. “That’s what I thought.”
His hips snapped into my face, cock stabbing my throat. It was so painful, and my lungs burned for a full breath again. Nothing about the way he was forcing it in told me he was going to let me have one. It could’ve been minutes or hours that he fucked my throat. I wouldn’t have the slightest chance of talking in the morning. And part of me didn’t mind that thought. Or the thought of seeing his marks across my skin. 
I moaned around him. I watched his head draw back, and heard what that had done to him. “Do that again, don’t stop.”
An endless supply of them tumbled out of me and around him. His hips stuttered for a second. Both of his hands palmed the side of my head, bringing it to meet his motions. One-two-three-four-five more later and he shoved all the way in, blocking my airway entirely. Long ropes of cum shot down my throat, forcing me to swallow. Some came back up into my nose. 
When he pulled out, I nearly hurled. The taste wasn’t bad, but the need for air was. I gulped it down, eyes unable to keep themselves open. I could barely feel the cuffs loosen from my writs. I was a limp pile of used limbs. Exactly what he wanted.
I felt like I was in the clouds. 
The next thing I knew was I was on the ground and the freezing concrete woke me up. My hands and knees stung and shook. I felt weightless and like I was a ton at the same time. I couldn’t keep myself up, arms giving out as I went face first into the floor.
All I could hear behind me was the male rugged breathing. Two agonizing slaps were planted on my ass. A garbled scream tore through the air as he did it again. And again. It eventually became so painful I couldn’t feel it. My chest was flat against the ground. 
“I am gonna fuck you,” he told me. “And I am going to hurt you so fucking good. You’re gonna scream and cry until you can’t. I’m gonna fill you all the way up, too. So much it’ll drip out of you for the next hour.”
The tip of his cock swirled through the mess between my legs. “Please, master. Fill me up.”
“That’s it dove,” he pushed in, inch by inch. “Fuck that feels good. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me. You’re all mine. All fucking mine to use and breed and fuck whenever I want.”
If I had been anywhere other than wherever I was, people would surely be breaking down my door to rescue me. But I would shew them away and beg for him to continue. He was right. Fuck he felt good inside me. I don’t know how he fits. But then he kept going. And he kept pushing. 
“Look at you, taking my cock like it’s nothing. You look so fucking pretty, my little dove. Fuck yourself on it. Fuck me like the useless, hopeless little creature you are. Maybe if you do a good job, your predator will let you go so he can hunt you again.”
My body was his at that moment. It wasn’t my own to begin with. He had full command over me. And I was happy to let him. I rocked back on my knees, my aching nipples brushing against the floor every time I did. 
The noises were obscene; from our breathless pleas to his cock slipping in and out of my thoroughly soaked pussy… it was the most sinful symphony I had ever heard. 
With earnest I rocked into him until he took over. One hand fisted in my hair and he yanked me up. I couldn’t be bothered to use my arms to help, I let him do all the work. His other hand brushed to where we were connected and over my clit. 
I had already come twice, I didn’t know if I could a third. But he was going to make me, whether I wanted to or not. Just. like. He. Said. 
The sound of our bodies echoed off the walls around us. He cursed deep in his chest while I had the breath fucked out of me. I had to catch myself when he threw my head down so I wouldn’t smack my nose off the stone. He hauled my ass into the pocket of his hips and hovered over me, forcing his body to align with mine. 
His now bare chest was flat against my back, hard muscle contracting as he angled his pelvis into mine over and over. It was a brutal, erotic pace. His promise rang in my head: all fucking mine to use and breed and fuck whenever I want.
“Yeah take it you fucking whore. Take what your master is giving you,” his voice was distant in my ears. His nails scraped groves in the skin of my back, and I let go. I screamed. the tears came and didn't stop. All those emotions– fear, dread, desire– making their way to the surface and erupting as I came again. For a third time. “Fuck, my dove. Again? Gods you are such a slut for my cock. You love this. Being used by me. You’re fucking nothing without my cock to fuck. You were born for me to fuck this tight cunt of yours. To breed.”
I don’t know if my orgasm ever stopped or if they just kept rolling over into the next. 
“My pretty cunt to use. Mine. All fucking mine, isn’t it? Say it dove, who does this body belong to?”
“Y-You, master,” I strangled out through cries and breaths. “It’s all yours, my master.”
His hands crashed down on my shoulders and pinned me to the floor so I wouldn’t move. I wouldn’t move even if I could. And I don’t. I want to stay right here, head far away from all my daily responsibilities as he pounds into me. 
My master’s hips were ruthless. Every pump of his body into mine set my skin on fire. I had never felt pleasure, or pain, quite like this before. I’d never be the same again. He forced me to change to him. And I couldn’t ever change back. There was nothing I could do to stop him from breeding me. And I didn’t want to stop him. 
“F-Fuck, my dove. I’m gonna breed you. Fuck it so deep inside you’ll never have a chance. Ready?”
“Yes yes yes yes yes,” I was incoherent. “Please, master. Fuck me so goooood.”
The noise that came out of him should have terrified me. But it didn’t. He let out a snarl so deep it rattled my bones, rattled the table and the floor with the force of it. I could feel his release inside me, but his hips never slowed. The nails on his fingers caught my skin and ripped it. I’m sure it’ll look like I was attacked by a wild animal in the morning. In a way I was. 
He was feral, snarling and snapping behind me. It was either sweat or saliva that dripped onto my back. 
It went on for a little longer, and then he forced his cock farther than it had pierced a new part of me that I hadn’t ever felt before. I couldn’t tell up from down, right from wrong in the next several minutes as he fucked into me, pushing and pushing and pushing as much of himself as he could into me. I went completely limp and he landed on top of me. 
His warm body was shaking above mine, sweat soaking into my skin. 
Neither of us spoke, neither of us moved. 
When he stirred, he pulled out, making me feel impossibly empty while he rolled me on my back. Then it was back in, and I sighed contently. 
“Would you look at that,” his voice cracked slightly. “My pretty dove has entered a true in between state. You can’t decide what to feel, can you?” The male's hand gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. I could barrel keep my eyes open anymore, and he let out the cruelest sound I’ve ever heard. “Such a worthless prey. You can’t even speak you're so enthralled with me. What a sight to see.” It didn’t even occur to me that we had never kissed until this instant. His lips were warm and hurried as they claimed mine. I melted into it, especially when he curled his tongue over mine. He moved his hips steadily as he did, drawing in and out a few times before he stayed put. 
I was so many things– ruined above all of them. I didn’t know if I would walk again, if I’d be able to see a dahlia in the garden and not be instantly transported back to these memories. 
Here I was, spent and limp, still at his mercy. And despite the moral side of me, begging me to be disgusted and horrified… I wasn’t. And I wasn’t guilty about it either. I should be, absolutely should be mortified by this whole thing. Yet I wanted- no, I needed it to keep going. To be taken at any point and whisked away from life to be played with. To be hunted. 
It would be a secret I’d take to the grave. Not anything I’d tell anyone. I would keep this between me and the fucking devil. No one else could know how much I craved to be stripped of my rights and dignity. 
I was moved, despite my protests, and hauled over a shoulder. That same suffocating shadow filled me once more and then the stars said hello. With what little energy I had left, I lifted my head off his shoulder and peered around. My meadow greeted me. The bugs and all there too. 
The male slid me off his body and laid me down in the grass. I had also become dressed at some point, my dress put back together. 
“You are free for now, my little prey. But I will find you again, and I will hunt you down no matter where you run to.”
I nodded up at him, a delightful smile on my lips. With a breeze from the crisp autumn air, he was gone, one with the shadows again. I laid there for a moment, not really having a ton of memories of what just happened. All I knew was that I had this ache in my body that filled me with satisfaction.
____
The stars twinkled above me as I pushed to a sitting position, waiting for a while for my mate to come get me. With a mighty beat of his wings, he landed in front of me, that feral look in his eyes gone since we left that underground room. 
“Let’s get you home, my love,” he smiled sweetly, sweat still curling the ends of his hair. I reached my hands up and he gently pulled me to my feet. “I love you so much, Yn. So so much. It was perfect.”
“I know,” I smiled up at him. “I was pretty good.”
“Are you hurting?” I gave him a look that said ‘yes, you idiot, of course I’m hurting’. “Okay yeah stupid question. Let’s go clean you up and then we can soak in the tub and go to bed. I’m sorry if I-” “Shh,” I curled right into his chest when he lifted me up, kissing the side of his neck. “I didn’t safeword, did I?” “Well, no but that doesn’t mean-”
“Yes it does. I may have been under, I may have been afraid, but I was aware. It was everything I could’ve imagined.”
“You’re sure?” he asked again.
I nodded, slurring my words with sleep. “ ‘mm sure. Can we go home now?” “Of course. You are everything I could ever ask for. Thank you for doing that with me.”
“You’re very welcome,” I chuckled.
~~~~~~
[This is just a little bit of background building and the initial conversation between the reader and Azriel about the roleplay. I didn't add it in the beginning because I thought it might break the illusion. Feel free to read or not!]
Azriel had parts of him he was ashamed of. Things he’s done in the past that he is most certainly not proud of, but have become a vital part to who is and why he is that way. There’s nothing that can change those parts of him, not even his mate.
When the two of you first met, it was a thing of the universe. Completely unintentional. You had been delivering a bouquet of flowers from your shop in Velaris; they were the finest ghost orchids and water lilies grown in the Court. A simple pen error on your note card sent you to two houses over from the one that was supposed to receive them.
When you knocked on the door, your heart began to strike faster in your chest. It was an odd feeling to say the least. The door opened and a male answered the door. He had black hair and had the most captivating eyes you’ve ever seen. His voice was like silk when it hit your ears.
“Can I help you?” He asked, folding his arms across his sculpted chest. He was dressed down; a simple shirt and combat pants and boots. 
It took a moment for you to conjure up a response. “I have a delivery. For… Sherion?”
“They live two houses to the left.”
“Oh,” you sighed out, looking back at your card. Surely you had written down the right address, or maybe they accidentally gave you the wrong house number? The row of houses stretched far around the bend of the street, it wasn’t the most impossible thing. “Well, sorry to bother you. Thank you for your help, sir.”
“Azriel,” he introduced, stretching out his hand. 
“Yn,” you replied, offering the male a smile before you stepped down onto the sidewalk. “Enjoy your day!”
Azriel had no idea why he answered the door. Him and his High Lord were in the middle of a very important Court discussion and before the words were even out of Rhysand’s mouth, he was up and moving to answer it. 
And there you were. Standing right in front of him. This small, utterly defenseless faerie, compared to him. You looked so wonderful. That was the only word he could think of: wonderful. You looked enjoyable to be around and comforting. There was a calm to your aura that instantly soothed the roar of the shadows in his ears. 
You looked like everything he wasn’t. You were smooth and soft and unburdened by the weight of your past. Azriel was exactly that. Burdened. Solid. A bastard born Illyrian who had grown up in the cruelest way. Nothing about him was loving. Sure he loved and protected his brothers and the rest of his Court, but he hasn’t ever had one soul all to himself. To love and cherish and spoil with the part of him he didn’t let anyone see. But if he could ask you to give him a chance, he wouldn’t ever take it for granted. 
How he managed to keep his cool, he’ll never know, but as soon as the door shut, he leaned against it, fingertips filled with static as he closed his eyes. He knew that feeling. The one he had with Mor all those years ago, with Elain. But now it was crystal clear. The other ones had been clouded by hundreds of years of rejection. Not this. 
It had taken him a few days to find you, which wasn’t hard. He told Cassian first, who more or less shouted it across the room for Rhysand to hear. The both of them encouraged him to speak with you, to get a better idea if there was any type of bond at all on your end. 
Azriel couldn’t tell when he met you, he brain was too busy being turned to mush by your beauty and grace.
But, eventually, he wandered into your shop at the end of the business sector of Velaris. It was cute, and had your scent all over it mixed in with the calming presence of fresh flowers and other plants. 
The door opened with a chime and he stepped in. The first thing that happened when he shut the door was he knocked over a pot behind it. It shattered on the floor, and he let out a curse.
“Shit,” Azriel whirled around, wings clattering into some windchimes hanging in the window. They fell, thankfully they didn’t break, but they did make a jarring noise. “Cauldron boil me.”
“What is going on?” Your voice rang over the chaos at the front of the store, and when you appeared, your eyes settled on Azriel, and he looked around at the mess he made. 
“I am so sorry, Yn. I didn’t see the pot behind the door and then these things,” Azriel sneered at the windchimes, “came down with it all. It’s a disaster, please, let me help clean it up.”
He watched you look from the pot, to the chimes, to the dirt on his wings. You laughed, so hard you clutched your stomach as you looked at the wary Illyrian.
“It’s okay, sir. It’s not a big deal. I have about a thousand pots in the back that are just laying around.”
“Then let me pay for it, and any of the chimes that I broke,” he tried to smooth his face into anything other than bitter self-resentment, but he probably did a poor job. 
“Nonsense, it was an accident. And I guess I could make my shop a little more accessible to those with wings. It’s not every day that we have Illyrians here.”
The fact that you were willing to rearrange things in your store to accommodate him made his heart swell. Surely there was a blush to his tan skin when he rubbed the back of his neck. 
Azriel couldn’t help but notice the clay smothering your hands, bits and pieces stuck on your face and in your hair. You wore working overalls and a long sleeve striped shirt. The ends of your pants were cuffed and your boots were laced all the way up. 
He thought you looked adorable. Utterly adorable and he just wanted to cherish you. 
You had similar thoughts about Azriel. That he was devastatingly handsome and outrageously gorgeous. Tall, dark hair, and lighter colored eyes. They were a perfectly crafted shade of hazel. The Mother took her time with this one.
You cleared your throat, trying not to blush at your obvious staring. “Is there something I can help you find?”
It took him a second to shake his thoughts together, “Yes, I did come here to buy flowers. Not to destroy your property.”
You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. “What are you looking for?”
“In all honesty I am not really sure. I’m trying to make a gesture, of sorts.”
“I see,” you nodded, looking over your shoulder. “Roses are always romantic, but a little over done in my opinion. There’s always succulents too, everybody always forgets about those guys. They make lovely gifts, are low maintenance, and more difficult to kill.”
“Interesting,” Azriel nodded along. “What about these?”
“These are wild bouquets. They are grown in the Hills, just field flowers but they look stunning all put together. A lot of them are imports from other Courts, brought here long before Prythian was Prythian. They grow freely in the plains and farmland.”
“Do they all have their own names or are they all just classified as wildflowers?” Azriel couldn’t have given a less of a fuck about what they were classified as, he just enjoyed hearing you talk about something you were obviously passionate about. 
You looked at him like a normal person, not at the scars on his hands or the wings over his shoulders. He wasn’t sure what to think of it all. You didn’t fear him, which was odd enough, and you didn’t avert your eyes. It was like you didn’t know who he was, which was going to be hard to believe. But if, by some miracle, you didn’t, he would be grateful. So so grateful. 
“Yeah, these are lavender, baby breath, candy fruit, blue flax… whatever is blooming is picked and wrapped up. These are just seasonal, there aren’t too many flowers that bloom wildly in Velaris outside of spring and summer, and even then it’s difficult to grow without a greenhouse.”
“I see, I see,” the Illyrian said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ll grab one of those then. And one of those succulents you were talking about.”
With a clap of your hands, you snatched up a fuller set of wildflowers and set them on the counter by the register. On a shelf beside a display of pots and vases, you looked around before finding a great candidate. It was in a lovely array of echeveria in a triangular prism. 
“Will that be all?” You asked, typing in the total and showing him. 
“Yes,” he nodded once, handing you a palm-full of coins. “Please keep the change.”
“But- I don’t understand, this is twice the amount of the total cost?”
“I broke one of your lovely pots, it’s the least I can do.”
“You know I could rehydrate that, throw it again and make the exact same one in less than an hour, right?”
Azriel blinked. “Then consider it a shop donation.”
You looked from the change in your hand, to the man in front of you, back to the change. “I won’t be able to get you to take this back, will I?”
“No,” Azriel smirked, taking the flowers and succulent off the counter. “Thank you for your kindness, Yn.”
“Yours as well, Azriel.”
______
When it came time to close down the shop, you hauled in the signs outside advertising the sale for the day. You wiped the counters and swept the floors, fixing a few things on the chimes that got knocked over earlier. As you locked up, there was a rush of air behind you, making you jump.
“Mother above!” you shouted, clutching your chest when Azriel stood behind you. “What are you doing here?”
Azriel didn’t say anything as he tucked in his wings, extending the bouquet he bought just hours ago to you.
“Oh, did you need to exchange them? I can run back inside and get you a new one if-”
“They’re for you, Yn,” he said. “I was hoping to catch you as you were leaving to ask if you’d like to come have dinner with me?”
With a sparkle in his eye, a smirk on his lips, it was pretty hard to say no. Not that you wanted to say no anyway. It was pretty obvious that both of you were attracted to each other, in more ways than one. You were worried that it had been one sided. 
And that was how it all started. One silly little typo of an address led you to the most devoted, selfless, and understanding male you could’ve asked for. Azriel could do it all. It took a while to get to that place, but it happened. It took a while to gain his full trust, but once you did, there wasn’t an area of his life you didn’t know about and admire.
He was so brave. So tenacious and powerful. Not to mention all of the other lovely physical aspects you learned about. Every aspect of your relationship was stunning. So rich and enjoyable. Every day was truly a new adventure with Azriel and the rest of his family; not to mention how awesome everyone else had been. Well, mostly everyone. Nesta and Amren were a little hard to crack, but Cassian, Feyra, and Rhysand quickly became some of the most important people in your life. 
As time went on, more and more things were revealed between the two of you. The mating bond clicked and it was like taking a first breath all over again. It was over stimulating, in an unexplainably pleasant way. 
Being able to feel, to hear everything the other was thinking was an experience you wouldn’t ever grow tired of having. 
Azriel was tender, as tender as he knew how to be with you. He did a lot of learning from you on how you wanted to be loved, and vice versa. Azriel was complicated, but that didn’t make him unlovable by any means. It only made you love him more, just so he knew that he could be. 
He wasn’t pushy about getting you into his bed, but you certainly didn’t mind taking that leap at one of the first hints. If his beauty was an indicator of just how thorough he was, boy were you in for a rude awakening. 
He was flawless between your legs. So calculated and willing to give. But you quickly learned there were other sides to him you wanted to explore. 
It started slowly, calling him ‘sir’ here and there to get a rise out of him. Which only leads to him asking you to try new things with him. You had always been a ‘why not try everything once’ kind of person. Extending beyond the bedroom. Azriel never pressured you to do something you didn’t want to, and there was almost nothing that he suggested that you rejected. 
From a little bit of bondage to taking you in other areas of the House, it started slow, and then progressively got more and more intense. More real domination and exploration. The list of things that turned you on was growing rapidly thanks to him.
One day, while the two of you were sitting in your home, it was clear there was something on his mind. 
____
READER POV
I watched as Azriel adjusted himself in his chair for the fifth time in ten minutes. He was squirming and outright fidgeting. 
“Okay, what is going on with you? I’ve never seen you like this before.” I paused my flower arrangement and sat down in front of him. 
Azriel wouldn’t meet my eyes. 
“Love, what is it?”
He let out a sigh, deep and heavy and full of something he clearly didn’t want to speak about. “I was just thinking… It's nothing important. I don’t want to ask it of you anyway.”
“Why not?” I furrowed my brows. “You know there isn’t anything you could say to me that would make me cower.”
“That’s exactly what I want.” Your breath caught in your throat. Azriel shook his head, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ve had this- this fantasy of you for a long time and it is something so dark and outright dangerous that I’ve been afraid to ask.”
A chill spread down my spine when he looked at me. Those eyes meant trouble; whenever we roleplayed, he got this look, this look, when I disobeyed him. It could’ve crumbled anyone to their knees. But me? It lonely lit me on fire. 
“Azriel, tell me.” 
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. You know I will not judge you,” I stressed, swinging a leg over his lap, laying my hands over his shoulders. “I promise.”
His hands found my thighs, which he rubbed to soothe himself. He took in a deep breath before he spoke. 
“Do you remember when we went to Summer? After the wedding?”
That was totally not what I was preparing for. “Yes? Of course I do.”
“Well, when Tarquin let us into those fields, and you were just picking flowers… I couldn’t help but think about how delicate you looked. You looked so peaceful and alone and I couldn’t stop thinking about how vulnerable you were. How easy you would be to overpower with your back turned. You’d be defenseless and- gods I sound ridiculous.”
“No, no you don’t. Keep going.” “Yn it doesn’t get better,” Azriel clenched his jaw. “I shouldn’t have these thoughts and I know it’s wrong-” “There is nothing wrong with having a fantasy and expressing it to me.”
His eyes were wide, lips parted. Azriel’s grip tightened on your hips. “I wanted to do nothing but force you to take me. To just- completely control you and have my way with you. You looked so innocent and perfect in the sundress and I wanted to ruin it. Ruin you. All over again. But with this animalistic part of me that I’ve never met. And then I just kept thinking about chasing you. Hunting you down and capturing you and tying you up. Fucking you senseless and forcing you to take whatever I wanted to do to you.”
I stared at him. And stared at him again. Fucking fuck… Azriel wanted to hunt me? To do things that most certainly shouldn’t have me writhing against him. He was already hard just talking about doing it. And I definitely shouldn’t have found it so hot. 
He was right, it was a little sick and fucked up, but it was such a thrilling idea. 
Azriel had this presence about him. Everyone he passed on the street was afraid of him. He drank it in. He loved when people were afraid of him. Well, everyone except me. He couldn’t stand the sight of seeing me scared, or at least I thought. 
Images flashed in my mind: of running through the woods, unable to escape him as he chased me. Hunger written all over his face. Azriel effortlessly overpowering me. Forcing me to his hands…
“Oh, I see,” he startled me out of my daydream. Shit, I must’ve sent those images down the bond. “My little dove enjoys that thought, doesn’t she?”
“I don’t dislike it, if that’s what you mean,” I rasped, looking at him through half-hooded eyes. 
“You want me to hunt you, don’t you?”
I shouldn’t nod. I really fucking shouldn’t. But he already had me under his spell, and I could not say no. The idea was so tempting, so profound and beyond anything we’ve ever done that I couldn’t think of anything more exhilarating. It would be terrifying, he would be terrifying, but there would be this primal fear coursing through me… secretly wanting all of it. 
“Say it.”
“I want it, Az.”
“Want what?” He grabbed my chin, forcing my lips apart. “You have to say it, dove.”
My chest rose and fell quickly, already feeling that power of his in my blood. Through the bond. “I want you to hunt me. To capture me.”
Azriel's eyes physically changed colors in that moment. They went dark. Very dark. He bared his teeth, nostrils flaring as he moved his hand to my throat. “I am going to vanish and you are not going to be able to see me coming. I am going to hunt you like the pretty little dove that you are and there isn’t anything you can do to stop it. You can run, you can pray to whatever you believe in, but no one will be around to save you when I come for you.”
I nodded, eyes fixed on his lips. “How- how should I prepare?” Azriel let out a dark laugh, pulling me right to his face. “Oh, my pretty little dove, you won’t be able to. It’ll be so unpredictable that you won’t know what's happening. I’ll even make the bond go dark. There will be nothing loving about what I am going to do to you.”
_______
My hand had already found its way between my thighs on the first night. Thoughts wild with what's to come. Of course I know it’s just Azriel, but I know that it’s not going to feel like Azriel. To look or sound like him. He was going to hunt. Me. And I was going to let him.
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nijigasakilove · 1 month
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One more episode of peak man I hate seasons ending.. Lakan vs Maomao, what a way to start the episode and talk about an awkward family reunion. Fitting that it’s a game of chess between the two as they’ve been playing proverbial chess for a while now.
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Who would’ve thought Lakan’s weakness would’ve been regular alcohol lol, talk about a lightweight.
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Whaaaat was that Lakan flashback holy shit. I owe him a complete apology, was not familiar with his game at all. Been slandering this dude for months now calling him a scumbag, rapist, you name it and he turns out to be one of the kindest and most well written characters??? That’s how you play with viewers’ expectations and great twist from the author. Did not see this coming. Not only was his birth condition messed up, but then he and Fengxian’s love story was so tragic. Their shared love of Go/Chess makes the game he played with Maomao at the start even more special.
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Yea, him sleeping with Fengxian is what caused everything to go south, but it was a mutual decision they made and were two consenting adults. It’s not like he chose to abandon her for three years either. I’m seeing a few people still calling him selfish and attacking him and it’s like are we watching the same episode?? It’s just an extremely unfortunate situation for everyone involved.
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Another very interesting detail was the uncle. He apparently became a doctor in the rear palace and got kicked out.. sound familiar? I wonder..
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Next and final episode titled Jinshi and Maomao.. finally getting Maomao outfit from the OP too.. 😩 I know it’s going to be a masterclass.
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lovingache · 10 days
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𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝'𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝. 🏹
𝐫. 𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 summary: "𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞" | tanaka is the biggest simp for his girlfriend. warnings: f!reader, aged up!haikyu (karasuno is a university) | no y/n, swearing, fluff fluff fluff, i love ryū and im so happy i finally got an idea that works so well for him, tanaka is an absolute SWEETHEART to reader, names used: doll, babe, word count: 1.1k a/n: i was listening to cupid's chokehold and immediately had to start writing this because THAT SONG IS LITERALLY GHOST WRITTEN BY TANAKA IDC ARGUE WITH THE WALL
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Ryū didn't necessarily ask you to be his girlfriend. There was no grand gesture a few months into dating or a massive heart-to-heart to confirm that you two were taking that step together. He sort of just started calling you his girlfriend.
Something that surprised you about him is how deeply sentimental he is. During one of your dates, he insisted on taking photobooth pictures together, practically dragging you into the booth with him as he paid the fee and slung an arm around you. "C'mon, doll! It'll be fun, plus, this way, I can keep your picture with me everywhere!"
You two were there for almost an hour, striking pose after pose as you laughed with each other. You feel your cheeks heat up as he kisses you for a photo, his large hands cupping your face as he kisses you deeply. He hums with delight when he sees it printed onto the snapshots. "This one's just for me," he grins, wriggling his eyebrows at you as you smack his chest lightly.
He pouts when you say no after he asks you for one last set of pictures with just you, "Please, babe! That way, I can look at it whenever I miss you."
You roll your eyes playfully but oblige— you're not a monster. "You tell me you miss me all the time, Ryū," you tease, smiling at him as you stay seated.
"Exactly, I can look at your pictures all the time then! It'll totally help to see your face before a game if you can't be there in person— it'll help pump me up!" he grins, feeding the machine another bill as you pose for the pictures. He dropped you off that night with the broadest grin, knowing he didn't have to look far to see you smiling at him. It warms his heart knowing he's found a girl that not only puts up with his antics, but loves him for it.
He took the photos of you everywhere. His wallet, his phone case, his gym locker, taped up on his room's wall. You name it, your face is plastered there. You had to physically restrain him from ordering t-shirts with the photos on them, much to his dismay. "Fine," he grumbled. "I'll just show people the pictures of you then."
It's safe to say he loves being with you, showing you off as the brilliant woman who had, in your folly and his delight, chosen to be with him. The first time you'd visited him after practice, the team's eyes practically jumped out of their skulls after you ran up to him and kissed him on the cheek, asking him how it went.
"So she is real?!" Nishinoya yells as he runs up to Ryū to give him a high-five. "Holy shit, sorry, Tanaka. We all thought you made her up—"
He turns to you, introducing himself as Karasuno's libero and Tanaka's friend. "I've heard a lot about you, Nishinoya," you smile, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. You swear he swoons a little as you do.
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"Babe," he whines when you peel his arm off you as Daichi calls him into the gym. "I wanna keep my arm on you until we get in!" he complains, earning a snicker from Nishinoya and Kageyama, who are a few steps ahead of you.
You laugh, "Oh god, you big baby. Do you really want your opponents to see you pouting? Think of what message that'd send, Tanaka." You tease, knowing exactly how to rile him up for the match.
You laugh even harder as he crosses his arms and gives you a "Hmph!" as he lets you go. "Fine, but you better be cheering the loudest in there, doll."
He blushes as you kiss him quickly, "You know I always am, honey." You marvel at how quickly he runs into the gym, energized by your affection as his teammates run in to catch up with him.
You sit beside a friend from class as the team warms up, beaming at him whenever he looks at you after nailing a spike. "Let's go, Ryū!" you yell as the crowd thickens.
Soon enough, the match starts, and you're as energetic as he is as the team plays, whooping when they score and yelling encouragements when the other team scores. "C'mon, boys! You've got this!"
He turns to point to you after every kill, grinning up at you like you're his sun, and when he gets the game-winning point, he screams your name as he lands back on the gym floor.
The team is huddled and celebrating as you run down to congratulate them and celebrate with him. You raise an eyebrow at Daichi when you don't spot Ryū in the huddle. He shakes his head, jerking a thumb back over to where Ryū is standing, arguing with a player from the opposing team.
You hurriedly walk over to try to pull him away, knowing that he can get a little too hyped up after winning games—especially when he's the one who scored the match point.
You're about to call out to him when his voice cuts you off, yelling at the player as he grabs his gym bag from the team's manager, ruffling through the contents to grab something.
Oh no.
"Uh yeah! I so, too, have a girlfriend, dipshit!" He yells as he smiles wickedly at the brown leather wallet in his hand, unfurling it with a dramatic finish.
Oh, god, no.
"Look and weep, dickhead." He bellows, the proud undertone incredibly clear in his voice as he puts a hand on his hip. To your dismay, the player actually looks, stuttering as he tries to downplay the photo, "Y-Yeah, whatever. That's probably just a random picture you printed off the internet, weirdo."
Ryū scoffs, his hand still on his hip and wallet still extended at the gawking player. "Ha! You'd think so, right? I mean, she's so gorgeous that there's no way she's real. I thought so, too, when I first saw her. Why'd you think I worked so hard to impress her?" He says, his voice brimming with pride and affection, before folding the wallet.
"Yeah? She's not even here, so she can't be that good!" The player argues, and you roll your eyes.
You take a breath, about to call out to him, but Daichi's voice beats you, "Tanaka!" He waits for a beat as Ryū turns to him slowly before gesturing to where you are, "Your girlfriend's been here waiting for you, dummy."
You give Daichi a thankful look and giggle as Ryū turns quickly to where you are, scooping you up in his arms as he celebrates the win with you. "Congrats, babe!" You cheer as you kiss him deeply.
He pulls away from you, giving your nose a delicate kiss, before turning to look at the player who's already walking away, one arm hooked under you to keep you held up as he points at the player before pointing to you.
"Hey! Asshole! Take a look at my girlfriend!"
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likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated! ♡
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gojhoes · 3 months
Text
Bleed Me Dry
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*art from nerdreamer | *divider from benkeibearnever written anything like this before but yolo (also this art is PHENOMENAL)
- contents: sfw, college au, no jujutsu sorcerers/cursed spirits au, jumping on the vampire au train, gojo x reader (ofc), fem!reader, characters in their early 20s, mutual pining - warnings: stalking, bodily fluids, drugs and alcohol. - wc: ~4.3k
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Have you ever met someone and felt that you knew them in the past life?
You'd never much cared for religion, nor did you think much about the possibility of an afterlife. There were too many denominations for a single one to be correct. Not at all worth the millennia of wars waged in the name of someone's God. How was a god supposed to be benevolent and holy when they inspire such violence? Yes, you were a cynic through and through, remaining skeptical of all things damned and divine.
But then you met Satoru Gojo, and all that stubborn disbelief fell to pieces.
It was the weekend before the beginning of your final year of college. You'd been dragged along to some party being thrown by a friend-of-a-friend's-friend to kick off the start of the semester. Shoko, your roommate and impromptu best friend, was crushing hard on one of the boys in some club of hers, and she'd asked you to join her as moral support.
Just like the venue, the party itself was nothing special. In someone's parents' house that was already well on its way to being trashed, the room smelled of marijuana and faintly of unpleasantly scented air freshener. You recognized a few people, as the university that you attended was a rather small private technical school. Everybody seemed to know everybody even if you considered yourself an introvert.
You and Shoko found yourselves sitting around a card table with several others amid a very serious drinking game. Shoko was trying her best, but the poor girl was already three shots in while you sat back and observed.
"Aren't you going to talk to him?" you encouraged, following Shoko's line of sight until it landed on a tall blonde leaning against the wall. He was good-looking with his broad shoulders and neatly groomed hair that complemented the glasses hanging from the bridge of his nose. You could easily see why Shoko was interested in him.
"He's tall," you commented.
Shoko was beaming, her eyes practically heart-shaped while she talked about him. "He goes by Nanami- we were in the same research group last semester. And he plays rugby."
Shoko was a Microbio major carving her path to medical school. If this mystery classmate took the same courses as her, then he must've been smarter than you'd originally given him credit for.
You grinned mischievously. “Go,” you said.
She gaped at you, her brown eyes wide with fear. “I can’t!”
You pushed her bodily with your hand on her back, urging her to go to talk to this Nanami. She stumbled a bit, already tipsy, and shot you a glare.
“Go," you insisted. "I'm going to find food.”
Ignoring Shoko's frustrated groan, you trickled over to the kitchen adjacent to the living room. You couldn't deny that you were bored, but leaving simply was not an option with how obsessed Shoko was with this guy. The kitchen was void of people, but someone had mercifully left out a fruit tray that appeared untouched in comparison to the picked-over coolers of beer. Working as a bartender had diminished your cravings for the stuff, so you avoided it wholly.
Just as you turned to re-enter the living room, you slammed right into something solid, a person, and let out a yelp. Your plate fell to the ground, the carefully chosen grapes bouncing in a thousand different directions. To your dismay, a good portion of them rolled underneath the fridge, out of reach and surely to rot later.
"Shit- I'm so sorry!" you cried, ducking down to immediately retrieve your fallen mess.
The victim of your attack kneeled beside you to help, which was a kind gesture, but it only helped to embarrass you further. You glanced up to apologize again, silently regretting every choice you'd made in your life thus far.
"You didn't have to-"
But the words stopped dead in your throat. Your victim was beautiful, breathtakingly so. Crystalline blue eyes that met yours, snow white hair brushing just above matching eyebrows. Ivory skin and pink lips that looked so soft and perfect it made your mouth go dry.
And then he smiled. "It's okay- I move quietly." He dropped a grape onto the half-crushed plate in your hand while you forced yourself to rise back to your full height. He followed suit, towering over you so much that you had to tilt your head to view his face.
But it wasn’t just his striking features that threw you so much- it was the familiarity, the nostalgia that flowed through you when you properly looked at him. In the moments that followed, you were able only to stare while you tried to recall just where you'd seen him before.
"Oh," he said, plucking the plate from your grasp. He turned and reached behind him to toss it into the trash with ease. His periwinkle button-up stretched across the expanse of his shoulders as he did so. You made yourself look away.
"Um," you cleared your throat. "Thanks."
He chuckled at that and extended his hand for you to shake. You couldn’t help but to notice the delicate nature of his long, pale fingers, reminding you much of a pianist’s. Your hands connected in the briefest handshake you’d ever participated in. His touch was cold, so much so that you couldn’t help but to jerk your hand away when the skin made contact.
Your eyes flicked up to his, illuminated blue in the dim light of the kitchen. You blinked as he held your gaze steadily, unable to shake that feeling that you’d seen him before. You were aware that you were staring at this point, but you were determined to recall this man's identity.
"Satoru," he said greeting. Not familiar, you thought.
You relayed your own name before asking, "Do I know you?"
Satoru tilted his head to the side, smirking as though he was in on some joke that you wouldn’t get. “I never forget a face, and I certainly wouldn’t forget yours.”
Even though the comment made you blush, you hummed. “Smooth. But seriously, weren't you in Dr. Kusakabe's organic chem class, like, last spring?"
"I can assure you that I have never seen you before," Satoru insisted. "Are you sure you just haven't been drinking too much?"
You scoffed at the accusation, a small smile tugging at your lips from his teasing. "No, I haven't been drinking, thank you very much. Somebody's got to keep my friend alive."
You glanced back at the fruit tray and immediately thought of those stupid grapes. "Do you see a broom anywhere?"
"I'm afraid those poor grapes are forever lost," Satoru said mournfully.
You let out a melodramatic sigh, smiling a little when you met his gaze once more.
His lashes fluttered, and then you saw him stiffen as though something suddenly pained him. Small, clammy hands landed on your bare shoulders, and you started, though you knew exactly who the offender was.
“Why are you hiding from me?” Shoko whined, her words slurring.
You pried her hands from your shoulders and peered down at her. She was swaying a little and the smell of liquor on her breath was all but apparent. You suddenly remembered your forgotten promise that you’d stick with her throughout the night, feeling a little guilty at the pouty expression on her face.
“Sorry, Shoko,” you said. “I was just looking for a snack.”
Shoko noticed Satoru then, who had taken a full step away while his fingers fluttered wildly by his side. So peculiar, you thought.
"Oh-" she hiccupped. "Hiii. I didn't see that she was talking to you."
Satoru didn’t reach out to shake her hand, you noticed, opting only to nod his head in greeting as he smiled in a way that didn't quite reach his eyes.
“No trouble,” he said fluidly. He then fixated his gaze back to yours, “If you’ll excuse me.”
He stepped out of the kitchen, and at least Shoko waited until he'd walked away to ask, "who was that?"
You shook your head as you watched him disappear into the throng of people scattered about the living room, stopping only when his white locks were no longer visible.
"Satoru."
The next week was spent with thoughts of Satoru scratching at the back of your head. During study breaks, you’d rack your brain trying to figure out where the fuck you knew him from. You were sure that you’d met him in the past; maybe he had been an elementary classmate? Maybe he worked at one of the local grocery stores or the café down the street? The possibilities were endless, but still, the mental search persisted. He even appeared in your dream the very night of the party, standing tall and fair with his back toward you.
Friday night was arguably the busiest at the bar. It was a flurry of drink orders, checking IDs, and straining to hear customers over the cacophony of voices. But you preferred the busy evening shifts– the bustle made the time fly. And it occupied your mind in a way that kept you from thinking about everything else, at least temporarily.
But after the last call for alcohol, a lull finally fell into place, and you began with your housekeeping tasks. Small things such as wiping down the bar and prepping garnishes and the like. Mentally, you’d already clocked out and were at home watching the new episode of your favorite anime. You were distracted, not all the way present, and you had your back to the bar. That’s why you were startled when you turned around to see that Satoru had materialized on the other side.
You flinched and your eyes went wide as your hand flew to your chest as if to steady yourself. “Oh sh– hey, it’s you! You scared me.”
Satoru raised his hands and grinned wickedly. “Boo.”
Never mind that he hadn’t been anywhere near the bar in the five seconds it’d taken you to do a 360. But your heart rate returned to normal, and you drank in his appearance. Still gorgeous, even in the bar’s poor lighting. He wore a collarless black sweater with sleeves that were too long even for him, and a pair of gray slacks. The neutral tones made his blue eyes appear even brighter, seeming almost to glow.
“Aren’t you going to order something?” you asked teasingly. “It’s past last call, but I’m sure I can make an exception.”
Satoru purred, maintaining that wicked smile from before. “You’re too kind to me.”
“Please, I insist.” You cupped your hands around your mouth and leaned over the bar so that your fingers just barely were brushing the shell of his ear.
“It’s on the house,” you faux-whispered, trying to ignore the way his hair tickled your skin for the briefest of moments before you pulled away.
He swallowed, the first sign of hesitation you’d seen since meeting him. Not that you knew him well, but he otherwise moved so confidently and with such intention that the gesture seemed out of place on him.
“I’m afraid I don’t drink.”
“I can make you something virgin,” you urged, wiggling your eyebrows. You were being unnecessarily insistent, pushing a little hard, but you felt this inexplicable urge to impress him. To serve him...? It was your job, after all, to make drinks that people would enjoy.
And then he replied, his voice firm but not unkind, “I have to decline, but I deeply appreciate your offer.”
You sighed and made a point of overdramatizing your disappointment. “Some other time, then. I’ll get you something good to drink, just you wait.”
An unnamable expression flashed over his features, quickly replaced by another disarming smile. You weren’t sure if it was the dim lighting of the bar, but his pallor seemed more translucent than before, the color blending in with his pale hair. His eyes were nearly glowing, nearly burning and you found yourself trying to differentiate all the shades of blue within his irises before he cleared his throat, and you realized you had been staring.
“Sorry,” you said quickly, cursing the blush that crept high on your cheeks. “I just.. I swear that I’ve seen you before somewhere. It’s kind of driving me crazy.”
Satoru tilted his head in question, a mannerism of his that you’d picked up on. “Is that right?”
Okay, you were definitely into this guy, no doubt about it. How could you not be? He was insanely, unfairly attractive, and though you’d just met (SUPPOSEDLY), you couldn’t help but to feel that you were connected to him in some way. That was a scary thought, one you shoved down before it could fester along with your other delusions.
The bar where you worked was close to campus and being part of a chain, its main demographic for business was students. It was a simple coincidence for Satoru to be there. Maybe that’s where you knew him from- it wasn’t a total impossibility; you'd served thousands of people since starting there.
“When are you off?”
You glanced down at the small watch face adorning your wrist, pretending to squint as anxiety slithered into your gut. Guys had asked you that same question in the past after mistaking good bartending for flirting. Satoru was charming, but he was still a stranger, and it was already well past 2am. But something about him pulled trust out of you like it was nothing. Like he was luring you in, a moth drawn to a flame.
“30 minutes,” you replied truthfully. “Maybe longer, depending on the crowd.”
"I want to take you to a cafe down the street," he said. "It's open all night, and I'm sure you must be starving after such a long shift."
Your stomach tattled on you before you got the chance to respond, growling loudly at the prospect of eating- you'd neglected to do so before coming in almost eight hours ago.
“I couldn't impose-”
He smiled at you as your words trailed off, and that voice in your head telling you to be careful was far too distant as you felt your resolve falter. “I insist.”
So at exactly three o'clock, standing with his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the wall was Satoru. He lifted his head when he heard the door open, smiling once he realized that it was you. You'd be a fool to deny how pretty he was when he looked at you like that.
“Shall we?” you said once you were standing at his side.
“Of course. It’s only a block or two.”
You turned to your right, moving to take the first step of many, when a large hand wrapped itself around your wrist. It couldn't have been colder than 60 degrees Fahrenheit, but even through your sleeve, you could feel the frigid cold of his fingers. You gasped at the sudden touch, flicking your eyes up to his, which were likely wide with alarm.
“Ah, ah,” Satoru said, releasing you from his grasp. “This way.”
You tried not to let show how freaked out that made you, blaming it on how quickly he’d moved to stop you. But he carried on nonchalantly as though it was something he did with everyone- perhaps, he did, if you thought about it. You focused only on following him dutifully and nothing else as he led the way.
"Do you always work nights?" he asked, breaking through the buzz of your overthinking.
You nodded, grateful for him breaking the silence. "My roommate says I'm crazy, but I prefer it. I take classes in the evenings, too, so I'm usually sleeping during the day."
Satoru held the door for you, gesturing widely as you passed over the threshold. You plucked a menu from the pocket by the door, vaguely recognizing the restaurant's logo; it was a simplified portrait of a dryad.
“Oh!” you exclaimed. “I feel like I’ve been here before. Maybe in high school…”
Satoru chuckled. “It’s only been open for about a year. Maybe you should get those false memories checked out.”
"Ha-ha."
You could feel his eyes on the back of your head like two pinpricks of ultraviolet light as you escorted yourself to an open table. He slid gracefully into the booth across from you, folding his legs in a way that couldn't be comfortable under the too-short table. You laid the menu flat as you peered over it.
"What's good here?" you asked.
Swiftly, he replied, "Everything. Plus, you can never go wrong with chicken tenders."
"This is true."
You decided on a ham and Emmental baguette and a glass of cherry juice -they actually had it!-, opting to keep it simple. You noticed that Satoru hadn't grabbed a menu himself, but thought better than to comment on it. Besides, who were you to pry into the specifics of someone else's eating habits?
You slipped the straw dipped in your drink between two fingers, toying with it nervously. "So, what year are you?"
"Ah, I just graduated," Satoru replied, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "And you're a senior, right?"
Your eyebrows knit together as you tilted your head to the side just slightly. "How'd you know?"
Satoru didn't miss a beat. "You had that look about you at the party. And since you're old enough to bartend, I filled in the blanks."
When he put it that way, the logic seemed sound enough for you to safely dismiss it without a second thought.
"Quite the sleuth, are you?" you teased.
Satoru chuckled breathily. Before either of you could ask any more questions, your food magically appeared before you. Neither of you had indicated that this was a date, but you still wanted to at least try and appear well-mannered, so you ignored the urge to fall upon the sandwich.
"Are you sure you don't want some?" you asked, holding the half out to him.
Satoru raised a hand. "No, thank you, I ate not too long ago. Please, go on."
"I just feel bad."
But you figured it would be more rude to continue pestering him, so you decided just to suck it up and eat. You were starving anyway. You sunk your teeth into the sandwich, but you misjudged the force necessary to bite through the thick bread. Sharp pain lanced through your tongue and a familiar tanginess flooded your mouth.
"Fuck," you muttered. "Bit my tongue."
As politely as you could, you brought a napkin to your mouth and spit into it before folding it neatly to hide the blood. “Sorry.”
Satoru's eyes had grown wide as he stared down at the napkin. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and you suddenly grew more embarrassed. Had you really grossed him out that much? It was just a little blood and it wasn't exactly a Michelin star restaurant.
But as though you imagined it, that discomfort morphed into a smile so radiant you forgot he'd been unsettled in the first place. The bleeding stopped, thankfully, and you slowly but steadily made your way through the sandwich. While you ate, you and Satoru passed questions and answers back and forth like a badminton game.
He'd declined your offer to make him a drink and was refusing to eat anything now, but you thought little of it until you watched as he took the smallest sip from his glass of water. He made a face as though it tasted utterly foul. It was city water, after all, but he looked physically unwell after setting the glass back on the table.
“Are you okay?” you asked. “You look a little pale.”
He shook his head, making the stands of his white hair bounce comically. “Just tired. I didn’t expect to be out so late.”
You couldn’t deny the little stab of disappointment that shot through you, though your watch did read a quarter-to-four. Sure, you were off tomorrow, but that didn't mean that Satoru wasn't.
“Oh,” you said. “Well, I’m ready anytime, then.”
The second you place your dishes at the end of the table, Satoru sprung out of his spot in the booth and started for the door. His height must've been the reason he moved so fast, and you had to scramble out of the booth and run to catch up with him. You grabbed your coat from the rack and shrugged it on before following him through the door.
You turned to look at Satoru to somehow gauge the state of his wellbeing, only to catch him staring at you with stormy eyes and parted lips. Weren't you going to ask him something? But then he blinked away the intensity you'd seen, a placid expression replacing it instantly.
“One second," Satoru quickly added. “Wait here.”
He bolted back inside like a bullet from a gun, furiously jangling the bunch of bells that hung above the inside of the door. So, you waited, poking your head through the window to see just what he was doing. He was standing over the table where you'd both been seated just a minute before, but you couldn't see much more than that. He must've forgotten something, or maybe he just wanted to give his compliments to the chef- or something.
"Forgot my wallet," he said in explanation once he'd joined you at your spot by the curb. You nodded as he confirmed your first theory.
Satoru had both of his hands shoved into his pockets precariously as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. It seemed childish at first, but that quickly turned to endearment when you realized that he was nervous. "Would you want to do this again sometime?"
You smiled at him, touched by how sweetly he'd worded the question. You reached out to touch him in some way so he knew your next words were sincere, but he stood in a way that would've made it painfully awkward to do so, so you let your arm fall limp at your side.
"If you ever want to grab a bite, I'll be awake." you answered before the two of you parted ways for good.
All you knew was that you wanted to see him again, wanted to see this strange man you'd met by chance and break past his walls and excessive smiles. And you wanted him to tell you where you'd seen him before- maybe you were delusional, but you had an inkling that he knew exactly what you'd been talking about.
What you didn't know was that Satoru had followed you for the entirety of your walk home, slipping in and out of the shadows as he debated whether to reach for you. Sitting across from you in the booth had been torturous, especially once you'd bitten your tongue. The napkin that now sat in his pocket seemed to burn a hole straight through to the bone. Any of your blood would have long since dried, but it was yours, and for now, it would have to do.
His hand hovered over the doorknob- hadn't anyone taught you to always lock your door? He heard you shuffling around inside, the clinking of drinking glasses and silverware being put away. The mundanity of you tidying your kitchen was a slap in his face. You were still living, still warm-bodied and radiant. Not cursed, as he was, with a full life ahead of you that would end peacefully. There would come a day when you would close your eyes and they would not again open. It would be completely and utterly selfish of him to do something as stupid as tampering with something as precious as your life.
But the urge persisted, as it had for months, inspiring the most selfish ideals he’d ever before been plagued with. And that selfishness was what made him believe that he truly was a monster deserving of his fate. That selfishness made him into who he was.
If he'd never seen you that night just a few short months before, he would've long since left this forsaken city. He wouldn't be trapped here by the longing he felt for you. He wouldn't be such a damned mess, going to parties and putting himself directly into situations he should be avoiding at all costs. All the lies and the hiding started to add up after a while; soon he’d be so deeply intwined in a wreck of a story that would be too much to keep up with. He’d slip up eventually; he always did.
The party had been the absolute last straw. Suguru had advised him not to go, but Satoru was a social creature, and he still enjoyed bantering and foolishness as he had during his waking life. And as was commonplace as of late, anywhere you went, so would Satoru, because that's just the type he was.
He had not planned on getting as close as he did though. Quite literally, you’d been on top of him even if it was for only a second. But it had been enough to break through the delicate semblance of control he’d had hanging by a thread. The sheer pleasure he got from your scent alone was something he’d learned he needed; it was more than a want. Even now, the bits of you he could pick up on through the door had some kind of trancelike effect on him.
But as Satoru turned his back to your apartment, fists clenched by his sides from the sheer amount of effort it took, he admitted to himself that Suguru had been right. He shouldn't have gone, because it sealed the fact that his every moment would be consumed by thoughts of you.
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Confession: I ship Shoko and Nanami SO HARD. They're both water signs, too. I love symbolism and foreshadowing more than anything else in this world.
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pinkmoonzzz · 4 months
Text
Before nationals
Lottie matthews x fem reader x Nat Scatorccio
18+ nsfw
1996 lottinat both are 18 in this
A/n: sorry if this is horrible I haven't written smut in years
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The yellowjackets won states. You were so happy that you ran to your team and hugged them excitedly. After the game you walked to the locker rooms with shauna.
"You did awesome y/n" shauna said.
"Thanks you did great out there too" you said peeling off your jersey.
You were sweaty and hot from the game, so you sat there trying to cool down in just your bra and shorts. Nat and lotties eyes were on you as they changed. Their eyes had a glint of something that you've never recognized them looking at you with before. After you changed lottie approached you.
"Do you want to go back to my place and celebrate with me and Nat?" Lottie asks.
You were friends with both of them but this was the first time lottie had ever asked you to go over to her house.
"Sure!" You said, and quickly grabbed your stuff.
You got in the backseat of Nats car and she drove you and Lottie to Lotties house. Your jaw dropped when you walked into Lotties house.
"Holy shit Lottie! Your house is huge!" You gasped in awe of her house.
She smiled at your reaction and went to the kitchen to grab some beers.
"Here" she said extending the beer to you.
You took the beer and nodded thanking her.
You followed Nat and Lottie as they made their way to Lotties room. Once you all entered the room you all sat on Lotties bed. You took a sip of the beer when Lottie asks you a question.
"Any boys have caught your eye recently?" She asks you.
You practically choked on the beer and coughed after swallowing. Nat laughed loudly and Lottie silently laughed.
"Nope not really" you said hoping this will be the end of boy talk.
"It's our senior year and I haven't seen you once romantically with a boy" Lottie replies.
You shrugged "no boy has caught my eye"
"What about a girl?" Nat asks impatiently.
Your cheeks burned at her question. You've had a crush on both Lottie and Nat since you've joined the team but you never planned on telling them. Nat and Lottie both smiled when they realized they were right about you liking girls.
"Um well-" you started to talk.
"Do you like Shauna?" Nat asks, her tone filled with jealousy.
"No! No of course not. She's my friend but I'd never be interested in her like that" you quickly said.
"What about me and Nat?" Lottie asks.
You shifted uncomfortably on the bed not wanting to expose your crushes on them and ruin the friendship. But you couldn't lie.
You sighed deciding to get it over with.
"Yes, I like you both" you shared terrified.
They smiled and looked each other and started laughing.
Now you were completely confused at their reaction. You were getting mad. Were they making fun of you?
You got off the bed pissed.
"You know what? Forget it I'm just gonna leave." You said walking to the door.
Nat quickly jumped off the bed and ran infront of the door so you couldn't leave. Lottie came up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist. Your breath hitched when you felt her breath against your ear.
"I'm sorry for our reaction. We both like you too" she said in your ear.
"What?" You asked confused.
Nat walked up to you and cupped your face in her hands.
"She said we like you too."
She leaned to you and kissed you. Your hands went to her hips to pull her against you and you kiss her harder. Lotties lips kissed up and down your neck and she sucked harshly on your pulse. You gasped and Nat stuck her tongue in your mouth. After kissing Nat she pulled away and Lottie turned your face to hers and kissed you. Nat kissed your neck and slipped her hand under your shirt and grasped at your covered tit. You moan and feel your underwear becoming wet as she touches your body. Lottie stopped kissing you and backed up and lyed against her headboard and grabbed your hips so you sit between her legs. Lottie pulls your shirt over your head and Nats arms wrapped around your front to grab the back of your bra.
"Is this ok?" Nat asks you.
You're  full of want and just want her to rip off your bra already and have her way with you.
You nod quickly.
"We need you to tell us baby" Lottie tells you.
"Please Nat" you beg her.
She unclasped your bra and throws it behind her. Her lips latch to your nipple and she licks and sucks it. Lottie immediately grabs your other tit in her hand and massages it. You turn your head into lotties neck and close your eyes. Your hips buck up into the air desperate for friction. Lottie giggles at the action and pins your hips down.
"She'll get there" lottie says giggling in your ear.
Nat leaves open mouth kisses down your torso and hooks her fingers in your shorts and underwear. She looks up at you waiting for permission.
"Yes" you said.
She pulled them both off quickly and spreads your legs apart.
"Aw you're so wet for us" she says smiling.
She kissed the inside of your thighs and then  licked up your pussy. She circled your clit with her tongue.
"Natty..." You moaned and your hands reached down and you grabbed her blonde hair. She continued to lick at your clit before sliding a finger in. She stretched you open and then slipped a second finger in. She slammed her fingers in you over and over again curling against the spot deep inside you. You threw your head back and pulled on her hair. As you tugged on her roots she moaned against you sending vibrations to your clit.
"You're doing so well" Lottie praised you.
You felt yourself orgasm coming.
"Nat...I'm almost...there." You said.
"Be a good girl for us and cum" Lottie said.
That sent you over the edge and you came on Nats fingers. After you settled down she pulled her fingers out of you and sucked on them. She then leaned up and kissed Lottie so she would also get a taste of you.
"mmm, my turn next" Lottie told you.
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oattslove · 10 months
Text
〚Yandere Cove Holden Part 2〛
《Yandere Cove Holden x Female Reader》
Alright here’s part two! Here are a few things I must say before you can read. Steps 3 and 4 WILL have some smut scenes and in case anyone forgot, you’re both 18 in Step 3 and 23 in Step 4 in the game. 
And one more thing, I am not good at explaining sex scenes so please have mercy if those bits sucks ass then part 1 lol. Tips and advice would be greatly appreciated though!
Also SORRY IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO FINISH PART 2. A LOT OF THINGS HAPPENED, I GRADUATED HIGHSCHOOL, I HAD SLIGHT FAMILY PROBLEMS AND LAZYINESS. So yeah, I’ll try and write every few days and not forget I have an active tumblr account lmao.
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Step 3:
♡ Ahh, the end of high school is here, you’re both 18, and sooner or later if Cove doesn’t make ANY moves on you, he’ll surely lose his grasp on you. While it angers him to be away from you during the summer, he enjoys reading the letters you’ve written for him or any care packages you had sent. He’s missed you so much. Cove’s become...desperate for anything. 
♡ Locked in his old childhood room that he’s stayed at during his daily summer visits to his mom’s place, he pulls out one of your recently worn pair of panties. Well, before his trip to his mom’s, he might or might not have stolen one of your panties. But don’t worry! He’ll return it... after he washes it. Cove knows this is wrong. To shamelessly pleasure himself using one a pair of your panties. But he can’t help himself. Cove misses your smell. Your natural smell brings him both pleasure and comfort. Reminding him of moments you both had. cough there’s too many to count cough
The sound of whimpering and soft groans echoed the empty apartment, pleas and repeated ‘fuckfuckfuck’s came from one room. There in the room clothes were thrown wherever as Cove sat on his bed; legs wide open, heels digging into the mattress as he hungrily pumps his throbbing cock into his fist. His other hand had your lacy panties that he had stolen from you before leaving, nose buried into the soft fabric, inhaling your scent.
“M-miss you! want you so b-ah!” Cove whines, surprised at his own actions, hips jerking upward as his cum-covered fingers slide up to his chest to pinch and pull at his pink nipples. With the stimulation it was enough for Cove to let out a high pitch moan as he came all over his stomach for the nth time. 
Panting, Cove removes the underwear from his face to inspect the mess, or messes, he left. “Holy shit...” He moaned, gathering cum around his fingers. A sudden ping catches his attention. He sees the notification pop up with his special nickname for you
     Mine ♥ : 𝗁𝖾𝗒!! 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗇??
Cove bites his lip at the thought of hearing your sweet voice after a few sessions. One coming up as beads of precum leak from his red, throbbing tip. His eyes glancing at the time on his phone. 8 PM. His mom doesn’t come home for another few hours, he has plenty of time for another round or a few. And the best part, you’ll be helping him! Though you won’t know. 
With that set, he shakily presses his thumb onto the phone icon. Cove wraps your underwear around his, now hard, cock, and waits for to you to answer his call. 
♡ Cove has been running on countless ideas on what he needs to do to make you official and that’s when the gods and goddesses have answered him. He’ll ask you to accompany him to the ORCA fundraising diner. Of course you said yes because why wouldn’t you? He has so many plans on confessing to you tonight and tonight can’t go wrong. 
♡ It’s finally the fundraising diner, he’s outside looking into your window, waiting impatiently so he could be near you again, touch you. The diner starts in 30 minutes and he’s been waiting for you for 13. Cove paced around his car to hold himself back from crawling through your window and pulling you into a passionate kiss and proclaim his love for you. But for now, he’ll wait to confess. Deep down, Cove knows he doesn’t have the nerves to actually do that.
♡ After waiting forever, you finally make your way outside to Cove’s car, your dress hugging your curves perfectly. Cove’s eyes stayed glued onto you as you rushed over to him, hair flowing behind you, your perfume assaulting his senses. He could feel his face heat up when he noticed a shiny piece of jewelry hugging your ankle. An anklet. Oh fuck. What would he give to bend you over his car hood and fuck you senselessly. 
♡Maybe coming to the fundraiser with you was a bad idea, all the looks you’ve been receiving from these... disgusting animals almost makes him want to leave. But it’ll all be worth it in the end. You both had your food and desserts and are currently on the dance floor. Busting it down  Arms wrapped around each other, chest pressed snuggly, it’s like a puzzle piece. Cove has known for a long time that you’re made for each other.
♡ Finally! Finally FINALLY! It was time! the event ended with you enjoying yourself and having a good time with Cove but now it was time for the main event. He’s shitting bricks but he needs to do this. He needs to claim you as his, it’ll only be temporarily. Maybe in the next few years, Cove could give you his last name...?
                                 • • • • • • •
Step 4:
♡ He’s done it. 5 years ago, he confessed his feelings to you after the fundraiser and you accepted his confession. Now, at 23, you both been living together after Cove asked you to move in with him at 20. Even though he wanted to you to move in with him as soon as possible after telling both your families that he’s been looking into moving out. He almost cried in frustration when you declined, stating that you both should wait awhile before jumping the gun. 
♡ Living with Cove has been amazing. Ever since he’s gotten more comfortable sleeping in the same bed as you, he’s been nothing but a cuddle bug. Make the slightest movement to adjust your sleeping position or use the bathroom, he always wake up and waits for you to come back so he could wrap his arms around your waist and sleep soundly. He can’t afford to be separated from you after chasing you for so long. 
♡ After living together for 3 years, you’ve had sex a few times. But those few times always leave you fucked out and twitching uncontrollably and they always last up to 2 rounds, 3 if Cove’s feeling extra possessive. Speaking about how often you both are busting it down, if Cove could, he would’ve made your love making life into something more wild and kinkier. You sitting on his face as he overstimulates your throbbing clit as you suffocate him with your plush thighs, Cove shoving his tongue into your pussy while you sleep soundly above him, grinding his hard cock against your thighs as he pins you against the cold sand as he begs you to allow him to fuck you in the empty beach, etc. This guy’s a beast! But luckily for you, or not if you’re into those things, Cove’s shyness stops him from expressing those thoughts to you. 
“P-please!” Cove sobbed, grinding his weeping cock against your thighs, spreading precum all over you and your swimsuit. Head buried in your neck as you wrapped your arms around Cove’s shoulders, moaning as his tip repeatedly bumped into your clit. 
“ I wan’ fuck you, wan’ fuck you so badly, please..!”  He kisses your neck, hands wondering all over you. 
Cove
More whimpering came from Cove as he started grinding faster, the knot in his stomach threatening to break the faster he went. 
“Fuck! ‘m gonna..! gonna cum!” 
Cove!
Cove arches his back as he came in his boxers, the crotch of his sweatpants darkening. Whimpering escaped Cove’s lips as he gave a few more thrusts to the air before opening his eyes.
“W-what?” he gasps, now realizing what happened. He was in a wet dream and you woke him up.
“Man that must’ve been an intense dream,” You murmured in concern, rubbing his shoulders. ‘Good,’ Cove thought, a sigh of relief escapes his lips. He didn’t want you to figure that it was a wet dream instead. 
“Y-yeah...” Sitting up, Cove covers his crotch with the blanket he was sleeping with. It smelled like you. “It was...really intense.”
♡ Now onto the fun part, the promise he made to himself before confessing to you. To propose to you. To become your husband. And what better way to propose to you then back at your childhood home on your favorite hill. Cove bought the ring months ago and made sure to bring it with him as he left to go back to Sunset Bird for your Moms’ dinner anniversary. The ring weighed down on his mind as he nervously awaits your arrival.
♡ When you arrive, you’ve noticed at Cove’s nervous attitude, always stuttering around you, greenish blue eyes fluttering away from your confused ones. Normally, he loved talking to you, making eye contact with you, but now, he’s back to his 13 year old self, way before you started dating. Cove tries his hardest to not make it obvious but it doesn’t help when his parents and your question if he was alright. With Cove’s confusing personality switch, he always makes it up to you by cuddling you tightly when you sleep. 
♡ Time skip to everyone at his father’s house, when his mom mentions a showcase of Cove’s baby photos, you light up with glee at the thought of baby cove. Cove notices this and your comment about him in his onesie, makes him think about having children with you. His cheeks flare up as he imagined a mini you just running around the house as he cradled a mini him in his arms as you peck his cheek. Now he’s even more determined to make that dream come true. 
The sound of crickets echoed through the air, the fireflies and the moon lighting up the small town of Sunset Bird on a warm summer night. Cove had brought you to your favorite hill covered in poppies, where you both first met 15 years ago. During this whole trip back, you’ve been worried about Cove’s sudden nervous behavior but waited until he opened up to you about what was on his mind. 
“(Y/N)…” Cove began, voice wobbly. You let out a hum in acknowledgment as you await him to continue. 
There was a slight pause. You tilt your head as Cove softly cupped your hands into his. Cove falls to his knees, grunting at the impact before fixing himself into the correct position. One knee up, the other kneeling. He hasn’t looked at you yet in fear he might get overwhelmed and chicken out. But his determination of having a family with you, gets him ignore his fears. So with a deep breath, Cove whips his head up to stare into your eyes with his determined ones. 
“You-you... have always been there for me... through thick and thin. Defending me from b-bullies left and right.” He began, voice cracking here and there as his eyes become misty. 
Noticing where this was going, your eyes also become misty, a smile painted on your face.  "A-and I wouldn’t have it any other way. You are the missing piece of me I thought I had lost a long time ago.” 
More silence as Cove’s collects himself for the golden question.
“(Y/N) (L/N), will you marry me?”
                                                 • • • • • • •
A/N: 
I am FINALLY done!! Once again SO SORRY for disappearing for like 2 months. 
292 notes · View notes
loosingmoreletters · 3 months
Note
For the ask game and because I’m soooo curious about what you’ll do with this: best friends sibling au for wangxian
The way I needed a second to parse this prompt. It’s best friend’s sibling, right?
Wei Wuxian is smart, the kind of smart that meant you either went down in the history books for revolutionizing cultivation or died trying. He knows that most people assume he’s going to die trying in the attempt. He’s fairly sure his mother has had his eulogy written since he was ten and his father started picking out coffins when he hit thirteen.
It’s whatever, Wei Wuxian’s got a goal in life, and he won’t stop accelerating until he reaches it.
Everyone knows it, and he supposes that’s the reason he got introduced to Lan Xichen at the itty-bitty age of five. Well, introduced, is a rather generous way to say his mom grabbed Lan Xichen and plopped him in front of Wei Wuxian in a sort of “behold, a fellow child” movement, mortifying everyone else in attendance, particularly Uncle Lan.
Wei Wuxian struggled to get along with his agemates, outpacing them easily, and Lan Xichen apparently needed someone to poke fun at him before he turned into a total rock. They had an odd give and take relationship, and not just because Wei Wuxian’s parents were independent cultivators and homeschooled him all over the world.
At sixteen, Wei Wuxian knew that Lan Xichen latched on to him because of the end result of a messy divorce. Sects, even in this day and age, didn’t particularly condone divorce. Separation tended to be the end all, which was the reason why they never got to see Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli on the weekends.
But Lan Xichen’s parents had gone through a divorce and Gusu Lan got to keep their sect heir and Lan Xichen’s mom her youngest. She’d wanted custody of both children, but the sects wouldn’t ever allow that.
And all of this culminated in Wei Wuxian accompanying Lan Xichen to the airport to pick said younger brother up. Well, that and the broken arm. Cultivation didn’t revolutionize itself and Wei Wuxian suspected that if he’d spent another hour in the library, Uncle Lan would’ve thrown him out himself.
Lan Wangji, the brother to be picked up and taken to Gusu for the first time in ten years, was sixteen, like Wei Wuxian himself, but that didn’t mean much given how much better Wei Wuxian did around older peers.
And apparently he looked a lot like Lan Xichen—
Oh.
“Well, that was a fucking lie,” Wei Wuxian told Lan Xichen the moment he spotted what could only be Lan Wangji.
Wei Wuxian supposed that at first glance, Lan Wangji looked a lot like Lan Xichen to someone who’d seen Lan Xichen out of sect robes, but a simple comparison didn’t measure up.
“You never told me your brother was hot,” Wei Wuxian hissed. “How have I known you for two thirds of my life and never known your brother was hot?”
“I’ve shown you photos,” Lan Xichen pointed out.
Well, yeah, but Wei Wuxian hadn’t wanted to see them because he’d been dragged to the Cloud Recesses by his mother only to be told that Lan Xichen would be gone for the summer, visiting his brother and mother. And the Lan Wangji in those pictures had been inherently ugly by virtue of stealing Wei Wuxian’s best friend.
This Lan Wangji was not.
“Does Uncle Lan know your brother has an undercut?”
Holy shit, Wei Wuxian needed to touch Lan Wangji’s head so badly. Squish his face between his hands and bite his lips.
“No,” Lan Xichen said and waved at the Hottest Man Alive, trademark pending. “Would you do me the favor and tell him?”
Wei Wuxian turned to his best friend and snorted. “I love you, but if I piss of Uncle Lan one more time, he’s banning me from the Cloud Reccesses too.”
“Thought so.”
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dapandapod · 3 months
Text
Particular with nicknames
Why hello there! This was written last september (2023) and has since been sitting in my draft, making me rewatch streams because no pathetic reasons at all i swear. Anyway, here is Jaskier having a Moment TM when Geralt uses a very specific nickname. Thank you @ahh-fxck for helping me beta read <3 much appreciated! Please enjoy streamer!Geralt and Pathetic!Jaskier! <3 On Ao3 here
For all the love Jaskier has of words and language, he is strangely picky with nicknames.
It’s not that he dislikes them, he is just strangely neutral. Alright, that’s not true.
His famously ill-advised and stormy relationship with Valdo came to mind. Jaskier had fallen promptly out of love with him when he was called ‘Snugglebutt’ in front of all of their friends. They were together for another month or so past that, because Jaskier thought himself cruel and wanted it to work.
Well, it did not.
Nowadays he shares a flat with his long time best friend Geralt, one of the few constants in his life and the one who just might own about two thirds of his heart.
It’s not a big flat, but they have a room each, a small kitchen, and a shared living room. That is also where Geralt has his small streaming corner set up, back against the wall and facing the room.
Easier that way to keep it clean if he streams with the camera on, no accidental flashing unsuspecting viewers that way. Something learned by trial and error, as Jaskier tends to run warm and just forgo pants. And shirts. And socks.
They also share their flat with a terrible little cat named Roach, who has never quite warmed up to Jaskier. Took to Geralt the instant she saw him, however, and the two are inseparable whenever Geralt is home.
All of this in itself is not an issue. Oh no, all of this is more than fine.
Watching Geralt be sweet with the terrible little furball makes Jaskier’s heart ache pleasantly, listen to him coo about her fur being so shiny and smooth, what a good girl she is, wow look at that yawn!
No, the problem came up the first time as Geralt was lazily watching TV on the couch, back to their little kitchen where Jaskier had just served her royal highness some very expensive cat food.
Roach does as she always does when Jaskier is involved, and simply walks out. It’s routine by now, and the food is usually gone by morning. It’s more about Jaskier knowing his place at the bottom of the list than not liking the food.
But as she returns to the living room with Jaskier trailing after, considering plopping down on the couch too instead of working on his doctoral thesis, Jaskier finds himself fundamentally changed.
“Hi baby.” Geralt says, voice all sweet and dark and gravelly, and fuck.
It is very much aimed at Roach, who is being a cutie, begging pets from under the table. But Jaskier’s insides do a kickflip, his brain short circuits.
Flushing deeply, Jaskier can’t control the little HRK sound escaping his throat.
He is frozen in his tracks, tongue tied and feeling absolutely pathetic. Geralt turns around to look at him with a questioning frown.
“You ok there?” he asks, Roach climbing the couch and up to the backrest, demanding attention.
“Just peachy,” Jaskier squeaks out, and then flees to his room.
Holy fucking shit and mother of turds.
Baby?? Of all the nicknames in the entire world, that is the one Jaskier is going to have a meltdown about?
Just, the lazy way Geralt said it, Jaskier feels like an old maid, clutching his pearls.
It’s fine. He will be fine.
It was meant for Roach, of course, it’s fine.
It is not fine.
Geralt is streaming, talking with some other players. He is not a big name, but he does have a following, and sometimes gets invited to other streams if it's a multiplayer game.
Jaskier is moving around the living room, untangling the nest that their couch has become recently, blankets and hoodies and socks thrown everywhere. He is also holding a banana, somewhat forgotten in his new mission to make the couch sittable.
Part of his distraction comes from listening to Geralt talking, there is a lilt to his voice when he is on stream. It is unclear if Geralt is aware of doing it, but Jaskier can listen to it forever.
While in the process of moving one blanket over to the footrest, Geralt laughs at something said in his headphones.
“Oh baby, I didn’t know you cared!”
Jaskier drops the banana.
Feeling like a deer caught in headlight, Jaskier is unable to do anything but staring, feeling heat climbing his neck, up to his cheek.
Then Geralt’s eyes meet his over his screen, his face is neutral but his eyes are knowing.
Fuck fuck fuck he is in so much trouble.
Maybe it’s fine to have that many blankets. Perfect for hiding, perfect for pretending the way Geralt says ‘Baby’ doesn’t go on loop in his head, and will be for days.
Jaskier is in a constant state of fear.
Ever since the Stream Incident, as he has come to call it, there is this new tension whenever they are in a room together. Where Geralt will look at him consideringly, where Jaskier will pretend everything is as per usual.
He has gotten better at not freezing, but a thrill runs through him every time Geralt uses That Word, making very unsubtle eye contact as he does.
How is his poor heart to cope?
Sometimes, late at night, when Jaskier is unable to sleep and he knows Geralt is still streaming, Jaskier joins in to watch. It is uncertain if Geralt has figured out it’s him or not yet, he has sneakily named his account to Bardelicious, and doesn’t usually join the chat.
Tonight, Geralt is playing a fantasy game. A monster hunter and his bard, fittingly enough, and he makes light commentary about things in the game.
Until there is a scene where the bard does something noble, stupid and somewhat foolish.
“Oh, baby.” Geralt says sadly, shaking his head.
The chat goes absolutely wild, more than one asking him to say it again, to call them baby, which is a little weird and also absolutely fucking valid.
“Why are people so weird about that?” Geralt says, chuckling. The replies roll in, and his eyebrows climb up his forehead. Jaskier’s heart is beating hard, because this could either be really good or really bad.
“Sexy? Doubt that.”
Jaskier regrets it as soon as he presses send, and by then it’s too late.
‘It is when you say it.’ was all he wrote, but it was the first thing he had written in there. Geralt doesn’t know it’s him.
It should be fine. He is fine.
Some more responses follow, but Geralt is strangely quiet. The game scene plays out, the monster hunter and his bard having a nice bonding moment.
It’s soothing to watch, to hear Geralt’s commentary every now and then. He falls asleep with his phone in his hand, earbuds still in.
The next morning, Jaskier is woken up by the scent of coffee and a hungry Roach yowling in the kitchen. She only does that when Geralt is around, so it is safe to assume he is up.
Which is a little odd, because Jaskier fell asleep before the stream was over, and he feels like death warmed over.
His jaw cracks when he yawns. Lured by the scent of coffee, he manages to get out of bed.
Geralt is indeed up and about, Roach winding affectionately around his legs as he prepares her breakfast.
“Morn,” Jaskier rasps, scratching his stomach and giving another yawn.
Roach doesn’t even look at him, fully focused on her man and her meal. The bowl is placed on the floor for the queen herself, and like the gremlin she is, she eats it without a fuss. Little bastard.
Jaskier joins Geralt at the bench, seeking coffee like a flower seeks the sun. He can stop when he wants, coffee is not an addiction, it is a way of life.
“Were you up all night? Hand me a cup, will you?” he says, reaching for the fruit bowl that Geralt for some reason keeps religiously stocked.
In reply, he gets one of the typical hums, which could mean absolutely anything, and two cups. Jaskier pours for them both and Geralt adds the usual unholy amount of sugar to Jaskier’s, which makes him smile.
“Any plans for today? I really should be working on my thesis, but I can’t be arsed.”Jaskier leans back against the counter and sips at his coffee, which is still a little too hot.
Geralt is watching him over the rim of his mug, sipping on the steaming coffee.
“I have a thing I thought to try,” he says, voice gravelly, eyes locked on him.
It makes Jaskier’s stomach flip, and he takes a too big sip, the drink burning his tongue and all the way down his throat unpleasantly.
“Yeah? Anything you want help with?” Jaskier asks nervously, realizing he is still holding his chosen fruit without eating it, so he puts it down on the counter.
The corner of Geralt’s mouth ticks up into a crooked smile, and yeah, Jaskier is in danger. It is way too early in the morning for Geralt to be such an absolute heart throb.
“If you are willing.” Geralt says, and Jaskier finds himself nodding despite himself. If Geralt asks him if he is willing, the answer will probably always be yes.
“Sure! Uh… What is it?”
Geralt takes a step towards him and puts his cup on the side of the counter. Then he grabs Jaskier’s cup out of his hand and puts that down too.
His heart is beating so hard he can feel it in his throat, his hands now clammy and gripping the counter behind him.
Geralt inches forward, the space between them shrinking fast. He stops just shy of touching him, and tilts his head, white hair falling over his shoulder.
“So I was streaming last night,” Geralt begins, and oh dear, oh no. “And there were some interesting comments that I couldn’t get out of my head.”
“Uh… Oh?” Jaskier says dumbly, and Geralt huffs a soft laugh, breath hitting Jaskier’s face.
“You're particular with nicknames, right? I mean, you are still mad at Valdo.”
With growing worry, Jaskier is starting to realize where this is going.
“He called me snugglebutt. In front of people. That’s embarrassing!” Jaskier defends himself faintly. Geralt leans in an inch more, leaning against the countertop and crowding Jaskier against it. Fuck.
“But that’s not what you think when I say ‘Baby’, is it?” Geralt’s eyes are trained on him, and smiles when he notices Jaskier’s flustered little sound, the way heat climbs up his cheeks.
In a weak attempt to save face, Jaskier looks down, anywhere but meeting the intensity of Geralt’s gaze.
It has the unfortunate effect of noticing how close they are, how Geralt’s t-shirt rides down just enough to reveal collarbones, how his hands flex against the counter.
“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong, Jaskier,” Geralt mumbles, leaning close enough for his nose to drag against Jaskier’s cheekbone.
Jaskier pulls in a breath, tilting his head in a way he hopes is invitingly.
“You’re not.” Jaskier whispers, and is rewarded with Geralt putting a hand on his hip, letting his nose drag along Jaskier’s neck. “You really, really not.”
“Is it the nickname? You look so startled whenever you hear me say it.” Geralt asks, one finger finding skin under the hem of Jaskier’s t-shirt.
“Just you. Pretty sure you could call me snugglebutt and I’d thank you.” Jaskier confesses, blurts really, when the rest of Geralt’s hand sneaks under his shirt to find his lower back, playing with the soft hairs there.
“Good to know,” Geralt smiles against his skin and Jaskier braves turning his head, their cheeks brushing together.
“Are you going to kiss me anytime soon, or are you gonna let me keep suffering?” Jaskier breathes, his hands finding Geralt’s and tracing them up his arms slowly.
“Hmm,” Geralt says, considering with a cheeky grin, the absolute bastard, so Jaskier takes matters into his own hands. Quite literally.
Geralt’s face is warm, rough stubble and barely visible scars and imperfections brush against his fingers. Geralt must have turned into it, because their lips slide together, coffee and morning breath mingling as Jaskier finds himself now properly pressed against the bench and Geralt’s body.
Then he is being kissed harder, deeper, and Geralt hoists Jaskier up on the counter, using Jaskier’s thighs to pull him closer, closer still, and presses open mouthed kisses against his neck. With a gasp, Jaskier scrambles to find a grip, to get some control of himself, but it is very, very hard to focus.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me, baby?” Geralt murmurs against his skin, and Jaskier full body shivers. “I can feel you watching me, you are even in my streams.”
“You knew about that?” Jaskier asks breathlessly, stealing a kiss when Geralt shifts to look at him.
“If you wanted to be discreet, maybe you should have chosen something else than ‘Bardelicious’.” Geralt smiles, and Jaskier pouts and pinches his side in revenge.
“Why didn’t you say anything then?”
“Why didn’t you?” Geralt counters, and well, this won’t go anywhere.
“I like listening to you. I like listening to your voice as I go to sleep,” Jaskier says quietly, and Geralt hides his face in the crook of Jaskier's neck.
“Did you get any sleep at all last night?” Jaskier asks when Geralt stays there, melting into his body.
He doesn’t get anything but a muttering grumble in reply, and Jaskier smiles and strokes his hair.
“I need to find a nickname for you too. I refuse to be the only one being absolutely useless as soon as you open your mouth.” Jaskier murmurs into Geralt’s hair.
“Gmmrmgmg.”
“What’s that?”
“I said, ‘like it when you say my name.” Geralt says, and Jaskier is melting all over again.
“Well then, Geralt,” Jaskier purrs. “Let me finish my coffee, and then we’ll take a nap.”
Reaching for coffee without really letting go turns out to be hard, and when Jaskier with some struggle finally gets a hold of his cup, the coffee is still unreasonably hot.
They nap in Jaskier’s bed, both of them crawling in under the blankets and curling up together. Jaskier’s chin resting on top of Geralt’s head, Geralt’s arm slung over Jaskier’s chest.
When Geralt wakes up and press Jaskier into the mattress, it doesn’t take long for Geralt to discover exactly how to fluster Jaskier enough to splutter broken syllables.
It’s alright.
When Jaskier has recovered from being melted goo, he will return the favor.
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