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#thought i might have just seen wrong on first watch BUT IT IS THERE RIGHT??? I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE SEEING IT??
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Never Date Your Celeb Crush (Homelander)
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Description: Y/N is obsessed with Homelander....Until she gets him in bed.
Warning: Smutty
Word Count: 656
Request: I can’t find the actual request but it was sent in a while ago and they wanted one where the reader is obsessed with Homelander until they find out he is bad in bed.
Y/N couldn’t believe her eyes. The Homelander was looking at her in such a provocative way. Like he wanted her. Y/N thought she was dreaming at first but realized the entire night she was getting eye fucked by the man of her dreams.
She fantasizes about Homelander. The one and only thing she understood about FireCracker was the Homelander obsession. Though she was jealous of her and would die to be in her position and by the looks of it, She might be.
Homelander had never seen her around before and was nearly drooling at how good she looked. The red dress and the blue heels, was she trying to impress him? He had a big ego but he wasn’t wrong.
She laughed as she talked to one of the other party goers but her eyes kept drifting back to Homelander and he took note of that. It wouldn’t be too much later that he made his way towards her and she felt her heart stop.
He was much bigger and intimidating in person and up close. Homelander looked at her like she was a piece of meat but she didn’t mind one bit. “Hello.” He said and she struggled to keep herself together even though he was the one talking to her and started the conversation.
One thing led to another and she ended up back at his penthouse. He pushed her on the bed a little too hard but she shrugged it off as he got on top of her and started kissing her. The kiss was rough and hard, very sloppy and just not good.
She tried to set the pace but he wouldn't let her and kept doing his thing. She tried to ignore the fact that he was a bad kisser but once his hand drifted off to her pussy that wasn’t as wet as she would be if things were going good, she couldn’t hold back the laugh that had escaped her mouth.
He couldn’t even give her pleasure while rubbing her clit. Homelander pulled away from her neck with a very confused look on his face. Oh that was even more funny. “Homelander, have you ever had sex before?” That was a dumb question but his experience seemed to be leading towards that factor.
“Excuse me?” He was offended now. “Your kisses are too rough and sloppy and you can’t even rub my clit right.” His eyes were wide as she told him these things.
He was perfect in his eyes. He was the being of all and this mortal human with no powers was degrading him like this? “I am a god. I am the almighty. I am the Homelander and you think you get to say those things to me.” He gripped her face which caused her to freak out. “I’m sorry. I’m just not enjoying this.” She whispered.
“You should be grateful that I would even allow myself to you.” He growled. Wow he really was egotistical. “You’re right.” She said but he just rolled his eyes and got off her. She watched him as he paced his room, wondering what was on his mind.
“I’m sorry sir. I didn’t mean to make you upset.” He rolled his eyes at her comment. Upset? Homelander wasn’t capable of feeling many things. He would never admit to such things.
“I want you to leave.” He told her and she stared at him in shock. She wasn’t upset like she thought she would be at his request. “Get out.” He yelled at her and she jumped up and got dressed. “Uh sir? I have no idea where I am.” She said and he sighed.
She looked at him as he picked her up and flew her back to the party.Before she could say anything else to him he flew off. She stood there repeating the past hour in her head and decided that there wasn’t anything special about him.
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keepthetension · 9 months
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i don't see anyone else talking about this particular thing but
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am i the only one going insane over the fact that they pressed hard enough to leave a red mark on prom's chest?
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unnamed-atlas · 4 months
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Having brain worms. What if uhhhhhh SOS Mianite au
#this is a fully undeveloped idea but it is simmering#initial thoughts. mog is so champion of ianite. fwip is dianite's.#I'm not convinced of who mianite's is yet but i feel like sausage is desperately vying for the role and getting repeatedly rejected#oli ends up as a reluctant ianitee. he was originally a dianite follower but dianite found him annoying and was a dick so oli ditched him.#ianite finds him funny and decides to pick him up and now he's trying very hard not to mess it up bc she actually respects him#joel would claim not to need any stupid god until he sees how much fun fwip is having causing problems on purpose with dianite and gives in.#his wife joining up with dianite probably also doesn't desuade him in that department#jimmy isn't particularly keen on any of them. he's off doing his own thing#katherine feels very classic mianitee to me.#I've got mixed feelings on Pix. i kind of feel like he should be on his own thing (priest? wizard? something like that)#if not he's ianitee i think. but it takes him awhile to commit#joey's dianitee. eloise feels ianitee to me. shubble probably mianitee.#is that everyone? i think that's everyone#idk if this would be a scenario where the world/plot was more based on mianite or sos honestly#maybe a healthy mix.#do we keep the death/fate coin element? idk idk maybe not? but it doesn't feel like sos without some hardcore element#gotta sit on it#this is the first time in a long time I've just done like straight up stream of consciousness brainstorming in the tags of a post huh#feels very 2020#OWEN I FORGOT OWEN. UH. i feel like he might help balance out the mianite team. i can't put it into worlds but it feels right#he's the type of guy that you look at and immediately think dianite and you're wrong#but i could be tempted to switch him and joey. cause joey did have the whole prison thing in sos which is very mianite#even if he's generally the most dianitee guy i have ever fucking seen#i. i also forgot scott.#embarrassing. I've been watching him the longest and he's the only one on this list I've actually written into mianite crossovers before#uhhhh anyways he feels very true neutral to me. he's another one who i feel like maybe he should be off doing his own thing#if not probably mianite#this is such a mess lmao#i had to put the idea down somewhere before my head exploded sorry
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ch3rriiii-bunn · 7 months
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You belong to me
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Paring: upper ranks + Muzan x Fem!reader
Synopsis: In different pov's, their jealously turn them a bit crazy
Content: possessiveness, jealousy, hinted smut, choking, fave grabbing, slight blood play, demon reader in Akaza, Nakime and kokushibo's part, kidnapping on Douma and Muzan's part, escape attempt, Muzan grabs you by the neck like that one guy in 365 days lol, arranged marriage theme on Muzans part
A/n: yall know that song by the weeknd? had to write some possessive jealous shit based on that song with some demons! WHAAAA I NEVER WRITTEN SOMETHING LIKE THIS!!🥴might do one with the hashira next🤭
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Akaza
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Akaza is known to not like his fellow upper ranks. You've seen it first hand when Muzan allowed you to attend an upper rank meeting since you became a demon by Akaza. He hated them all with a passion. Especially the ones ranked above him. With this knowledge, what in the hell possessed you to give any of them your attention?
Not just any upper rank, either. Douma in particular. In your defense, once Douma starts speaking, it's hard to shoo him off, especially given that you're much weaker than Douma is, so you play along to keep your reputation on a good note. You simply smile and nod at his nonsense. You knew Akaza wasn't going to step in since he'd rather run in the sunlight than talk to Douma if you were on your own.
How wrong you thought you were. Once Muzan actually left, Douma become more bold. Asking you personal questions, standing to close and even about to hold your hand, but before you could answer, you heard the sounds of blood splatter on the floor. Your eyes widened at how quick Douma's arm was severed.
"Oh, come now, lord Akaza. I was just joking-" "Shut up for once." Akaza snarled at douma in pure disgust. You wanted to say something, but you felt your feet leave the ground. Akaza had grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder and walked away from Douma while holding you. It always amazed you just how fast he was, but you knew how mad he was. The anger was just raiding off Akaza.
Akaza made sure to be far away from the other upper ranks in the infinitely castle and walked into one of the many empty rooms. Akaza put you down, but then, he backed you up against the wall. You felt your back press flat with your hands on the wall as well, giving how close he was to you. "Lord Akaza, please don't read too much into it. Douma was just being an idiot. " You tried to explain, but Akaza wasn't having any of it.
Akaza raised his brow. "So you're defending him?" His voice rasped as he tilted his head to the side. "No.." Your tone softened and looked at Akaza, worried since that wasn't your intentions. "I don't think I've made myself clear enough if my actions haven't shown it already." Akaza said and brought his hand to your collar bone and rested it there for a moment.
"Demon's I hate don't get the right to talk to who belongs to me." Akaza's face comes closer to yours with his lips now inches away from yours. His hand moves from your collar bone, up to wrap around your throat. "And you entertain a demon like him. Even saying his name from these lips. His fucking, name" Akaza's jaw clenched, and his hand tightens kts grip on your throat.
"Aka..za" his name hitched in your throat. His grip was deadly. You could still breathe. However, Akaza's grip was firm. He wouldn't dare kill his precious demon. It was just a "light" punishment. However, he needed you to learn your lesson and to show your loyalty to him and him alone. "Say my name properly. Or is my strength too much for you to speak?" Akaza smirked.
"L-lord Akaza. Lord Akaza~" you say his mamw twice. The second time you say it, you let out a heavy gasp as akaza lossend his grip on your throat. "You belong to me. Understood?" Akaza asked, keeping that eye contact and tightening his hand around your throat if you dared to look away. You nod quickly, your eyes almost teary from the slight lack of oxygen, and you watch Akaza's lips curl into another smirk.
"Good girl." He chuckled and gave you a kiss.
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Nakime
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Your girlfriend, Nakime, had summoned you to the infinitely castle. It's her job to always summon the 12 kizuki at the request of Muzan. Naturally, you felt terrified but remained to have a calm once you were summoned. However, Muzan was nowhere to he seen. Just Nakime, sitting there, a level above, and you looked up at her in confusion.
"Pardon for speaking out of turn, but where is lord Muzan," you asked, assuming it was him who wanted to speak with you, but it turns out that wasn't the case. "It was I who summoned you." Nakime spoke, her tone a bit quiet yet blunt. You chuckled and cut the formal introduction since Muzan isn't here, and you can speak freely since it's just you and your girlfriend.
"You do know it's probably a bad idea to summon me since you're taking me away from my work. Search of the blue spider lily and all." You grinned at Nakime and palced your hand on your hip. "I was keeping an eye on you. One of upper 4's clones has gotten closer to you. Haven't he? " Nakima said. You detected slight irritation in her voice, mentioning one of Hantengu's clones, but instead of asking a question for a question, you always knew it was better to answer her first.
"Ah, Urogi, yes. I wouldn't say we are close. However, he's a fun demon to work with. He likes to have a bit of joy and humor on our search," you answered. It isn't abnormal for Nakime to use her blood demon art this way. Especially since she's on the lookout to find the ubuyashiki family in the demon slayer core. Still, you couldn't hide your smile knowing Nakime was most likely thinking about you and wanted to check in on you.
"I forbid you to speak to him. Your task is to look for the spider lily. Not entertain each other with humorous jokes and touching," Nakime said. Her words made your heart spot for a moment and knew exactly what she was talking about. Urogi has always been proud of his sharp talons and would often tease you with them, but on this mission, he wanted to take it up a notch and poked your cheek.
To you, it was a wholesome moment. Urogi was just teasing, nothing different he dosnt do to the others, but Nakima had to see that, and she was furious. Urogi only touched you once in a playful manner, and it was enough for her to use her blood demon art to summon her back to you in that very moment. "He was getting too close to you for my liking and being bold enough to do that. Especially bringing those filthy claws of his to touch my woman's pretty face."
During this entire time, her facial expression remained unchanged until now. You could see her lips form into a frown and even watched as her teeth clenched together in a snarl. She was jealous. "Urogi was just being playful. I wouldn't read too deep into it, love. Sekido is probably scoling Urogi right now for wasting time to focus on finding the blue spider lily." You reassure Nakima, but she wouldn't let it go.
"Come here." Nakime took her biwa off her lap and rested it gently beside her on the floor and motioned her finger for you to come sit in front of her. You did as Nakime asked and sat down in front of her. You wanted to explain further to find the right words to reassure Nakime, but before you could, her hand grabbed your face
You gasped. Your breathing became unsteady as you felt her firm grip, her four fingers on one cheek while the other had her thumb, or rather her nail, poking onto your skin. The same spot Urogi poked at. "I will not allow a man's to touch to linger on what belongs to me." Nakime's voice turned cold. "You belong to me." She said as her thumb nail pressed harder, breaking your skin until blood slowly pours out.
Your jaw opens, and you inhale a sharp breath with your eyes barely open as you feel the sting. You're a demon, so of course it'll heal, and Nakime didn't pierce too deep. It was her way of wanting to hear her words come out of your mouth. You kept your eyes on her and eventually spoke up. "I belong to you~" Your voice hitched as you felt nails nail pull away from your skin.
Nakime leaned in closer to lick the blood from your cheek and watched as your cut healed already. She kissed your cheek and then came closer to your ear and whispered, "That's right. You belong to me, beautiful." Nakime said. Her hand lets go of your face and then trails her sharp nails down your neck.
You shivered until her fingers reached your kimono, near your tits and Nakime smirked. "I should remind you of how a woman's touch feels. So you'll never let another man touch you again," Nakime said. You bit your lip softly, feeling the heat rise higher in your body and your thighs squeezing together more. "I want that," you said, and Nakime's smirk only grew.
"Open your thighs for me and lay back. I'll show you how good these fingers work other than playing a biwa"
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Kokushibo
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His brother has been dead for centuries. Yet his name still echos throughout history but never would kokushibo think that his brothers name, yoriichi, would leave your lips.
Although you're a demon now and have been for a while now, you could still recount memories you had during your times as a human, especially in the demon slayer core. It was basically a law for any of the 12 kizuki to never speak of Yoriichis' name, yet you just had to talk about him since gyokko was curious to know how humans thought of him.
"Yoriichi has sun breathing. That's the best way to describe why he's well known even after his death. He could kill any demon in seconds. It's quite impressive," you admit to gyokko, and he nods his head, humming in response. Kokushibo had already been looking for you, but he never interrupted any of your conversations when you had them. However, hearing Yoriichis' name from you alone set him off to act out.
He came from around the coner and stood behind you. "Do I think yoriichi could beat Kokushibo? Well maybe-" you said but then saw both of gyokko's mouths open as he looked behind you. Your brow raised in question, and you turned around to see what shook him so much, but now you realized. "Kokushibou hi" you smiled nervously at him.
"It was good talking to you, bye!!!" Gyokko hides inside his pot, probably in another one by now, so it was just kokushibo and you. "Listen, I was just- oh!" Kokushibou picked you up, and then you heard Nakime's biwa sound, transporting you back to his home. You knew you fucked up. You and gyokko tried to talk in secret, but now kokushibo was going to punish you, a demon for speaking about yoriichi but in his own way.
Kokushibo put you down, turning your body away from him to face the wall with your body pushed up against it. You grunted from the sudden pressure but gasped once your hair was pulled back to face kokushibo. The view was upside down, but you could see just how angry he was. "You know to refrain from using that name. Have you lost your mind?" Kokushibou said, his deep voice almost turning into a growl.
His hand had a fist full of your hair, and not only that, his lower half was just inches away from pressing up against you. "I know- I was just telling memories from my human life I didn't think it was a big deal-" "and you actually believe a person like him could defeat me. Do you really think that? Dose his name interest you so much that you've forgotten just who's wife you belong to?" Kokushibou said.
You had a confused look on your face. Is he seriously jealous at the mention of his brother's name from his lover? You knew kokushibo was jealous, but you didn't expect him to be this possessive. "I'm sorry~" This is all you could mutter out. "Do not. Ever say that name. Again." Kokushibou crouches down to your ear, speaking slow for his words to be understood.
You mewl softly, biting your lip as you nod quickly, understand his words. "My name should be the only name said from those lips." Kokushibou now brought his other hand up to your chin and holding it while his other hand is still gripping your hair. Your back arches just a bit more once you felt Kokushibou press himself up against your ass.
He let out a heavy breath with a deep moan mixed in. "Having your jaw broken for speaking his name is the normal punishment from lord Muzan, since you're a demon and it'd grow back." Kokushibou grinds himself against, letting go of your hair and placing his hand on your tit.
"However, I have my own punishment. Just for you." Kokushibo's breaths become heavy, feeling himself get into heat, and he whispered in your ear.
"A punishment where you'll never remember to say his name and only mine. You belong to me, my pretty demon~"
Douma
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His "church" wasn't a church at all. You made the dumbest mistake to have even joined this religious cult. Your "savor", the one who saved you that day from eating eaten like an animal from a group of demons and showing you such kindness was just a cover-up for his true identity, which was a man-eating demon and not just any demon, the 2nd highest rank in 12 strong demons led by an even more powerful demon. The realization sunk in, and you made an ever worse choice than the first one.
You wanted to escape. You wanted out. You thought you planned your escape for a week, asking around what Douma's schedule was like so you knew the perfect days on when to leave, but that back fired on you. When you noticed nobody outside the temple, keeping guard and, of course, no sight of douma, you made a run for it.
You felt relieved. No one was there to stop you until a dark figure appeared from the shadows and snatched you up like you weighed nothing. "I caught you! You sure ran fast. Are you sure you weren't a demon slayer before you came to my temple?" Douma said, smiling from ear to ear.
You tried to catch your breath from running up, but your breath quickly turned into a panic. Douma frowned for a moment, "Oh you poor thing. Don't be scared. We'll get you back to the temple so you can rest for the night," Douma said. With such fake empathy in his tone, it almost sounded sarcastic.
Douma continues to hold your body off the ground in a bear like hug. His muscles flexed to hold you firmly so you couldn't escape. However, looking at Douma more closely, you noticed changes about him. His teeth looked more like fangs. His body against yours felt so cold, almost like he was dead and worst of all. He had "upper 2" written in his eyes. Was this a demon's technique? How was he able to hide these features on him so well around his cult members.
"I don't want to go back!" Your voice trembled. You tried to speak soft, but the panic got to you. Douma only just smiled, speaking in his cheerful voice. "If you're worried about being eaten alive, don't worry, you aren't my type of woman to eat, but you are my type of woman to be around. So I will be keeping you since you asked for my help to save you from those demons that day, so it only makes sense for us to stay together." Douma chuckled.
"What??" You sighed, looking at Douma with worry, fear, and confusion. "I don't belong to you, so let me go!" You hit Douma, but you knew your strengths was no where near compared to his. Douma places his hand on the back of your head, making your rest your chin on his shoulder while he embraces you more and nuzzling his face to your neck, taking in your scent.
"You still don't get it y/n? You're mine. I'm going to keep you until your time as a human is up." Douma said, throwing you over his shoulder and began to walk back to the temple.
"You belong to me and me alone~"
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Muzan
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2 years had passed since you were kidnapping, and you were finally back and safe with your family. Although your kidnapper, known as the most powerful demon, kidnapped you was bad, he could've been a lot worse. So you like to think of it that way. He could dispose of you at any moment, even when you couldn't help him find the blue spider lily, but he didn't.
You're family for owning a flower company, educated on flowers even so that's the main reason why Muzan took you but he let you go when you were of no use to him anymore. The bond you had with Muzan wasn't always about his work. There was soft intimate moments between you two but you knew not to get your hopes up since in the end, your knowledge wasn't all that useful and he let you leave, putting his work before you.
Your life continued to move forward, and eventually, you had an arranged marriage. A soon to be husband for you. He wasn't bad. He did promise to treat you right, give you his money and etc but deep down, you knew you couldn't love this man but went along with it for the benefits and your familes sake.
The wedding took place during the night. Your in-laws thought it would be a great idea to see how lovely your wedding dress would look in the moonlight. You asked to be alone in the fitting room, and you turned off the lights. Despite being human, you've gown accustomed to the dark and toy opened the window, feeling the night's breeze. Your hands slide down your sides to your hips, and you smile at yourself in the mirror, seeing just how gorgeous you look.
"You look stunning, my dear. They were right. The way the moonlight shines on that beautiful dress is just Devine," a deep familiar voice said. You gasped and turned your head to the window and saw Muzan, sitting in the edge and watching his glowing red eyes trace every inch of your body and even smirking at how the dress hugs your hips and holds up your tits perfect.
"Why are you... h-how did you find me?" You stepped back. Muzan came into your fitting room further and made his way towards you. Your body froze, but your eyes softened once you felt his hand on your cheek. His hand was so cold. "Do you think I'd let just anyone actually go?" Muzan bluntly said. That line alone confirmed your thoughts from a year ago. You weren't actually free, and like you predicted, Muzan would come back to you. However, it wouldn't be for the reason you think.
"I don't have any more knowledge on the spider lily. Even after you let me go, I couldn't find it." You explained to Muzan, but he only grinned. "I have upper ranks to do the job much better and faster than you," He said. His words cut a bit deep since you used as much energy as you could've helped him before. "But you can be useful to me in... other ways," Muzan said as his eyes gestured to your body and then looked back at your face.
It's like the old feelings came rushing back. In your own sick way, you missed this man. Muzan is the worst, curel and dangerous man-eating demon you could've ever met. Yet you knew leaving with him was a choice you had to make now. Your mind snaps out of it once you head a knock at the door. You and Muzan look at the door and hear a woman's voice on the other side.
"Um, y/n? Are you almost done?" One of your maid of honors asked through the door. "Yes, im-" you paused. Your eyes look down to see Muzan's hand slide on your hip and even slide his hand down lower, just like how he used to, but you stopped him. "I'll be right out. Just give me a minute," you say in a worry, and then look at Muzan, his lips inches away from yours, and you spoke quietly.
"You can come by tomorrow night, and we'll talk about this. You came at such an odd time. " You rolled your eyes halfway, trying not to let all these emotions cloud you. You turned around, but the second you did, Muzan had grabbed the back of your neck, making you gasp as he pulled you back to face him. "Mm.." Muzan brought you into a heated kiss, making you stumble back and sit in the mini table in your changing room.
"Y/n!?" Your maid of honor placed her ear on the door after hearing a thund sound. "If you think for a moment I'd let you have some random mam in bed with you, then you're more stupid than I thought," Muzan said as his jaw tensed. You pant as you feel his fingers press into your neck and you placed your hands on his chest for some kind of support.
"You belong to me, and I'm taking you back. The connection we share won't ever disappear, so don't think for a second it will," Muzan said, pulling you into another kiss. This time, you kissed him back. His words may not have been the sweetest, but you understood them. He wanted you, and you wanted him. He pulled away once he heard hard banging on the door.
"Let's go," you said, lifting up your dress, not hesitating for a moment about leaving. Muzan had picked you up, and you heard a biwa sound, transporting you to Muzan's room in an instant. Muzan, put you down. His hands made their way to your body, with one hand on your ass and the other playing with the zipper on your wedding dress.
He smirked at you, letting out a dark chuckle. "Now. Won't you let me give you that wedding night you deserve to have"
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heavenbarnes · 4 months
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The way olderbf!simon and reader met is so cute even if it’s cliche, because I don’t see that man interacting with anyone unless he’s forced to lmao. If you’re up to it, could you maybe do a drabble on how the beginning/talking stage of their relationship goes? This man probs has to rehearse what he’s going to say 25 times (literally me) and still fumbles over his words but reader is still just 😍 yes this is the man I’m going to marry
they definitely needed a meet cute to me cause honestly? where are their paths ever going to cross without manual intervention? 🫶🏼
after you get that “it’s simon” text from older bf!simon it’s you that actually has to make the first move.
that’s not to say he doesn’t text you or anything, god when doesn’t he text you?
at all odd hours and just about anything-
“at the supermarket”
“what you watching? i’m watching top gear”
“what’s your favourite colour?”
“i’m at the gym”
you were a little confused at first by how abrupt and to-the-point his messages could be.
and then you remembered that this was the same guy who prefers a grunt to the common conversation, he probably thought he was doing great.
so when you were getting in your own head about why he hadn’t asked you out yet, you also remembered that this was the same guy who thought he could fuck up a cappuccino.
he was probably- scared?
whatever it was, you realised if you wanted to see him as bad as you did, you were going to have to pony up and ask yourself.
“did you want to maybe get dinner sometime?”
he called you.
no sooner had the ‘seen’ shown up, he was calling you.
“uh, hello? simon?”
“are y’forreal?”
excuse me?
if anyone else had asked you that question you probably would’ve scoffed and hung up.
he was lucky he was so hunky.
and subtly insecure.
“yes, i’d like to get dinner with you”
he paused, a quiet moment passing between the two of you with only a little shuffling in the background of his line.
and a little shouting in the distance.
was he on base?
“yes please”
you’d been a little distracted trying to pick any little bits of information you could (more than just his favourite colour, it’s green by the way) that you didn’t get his response.
instead, you hummed a little ‘huh?’
“i’d like t’get dinner with’ya, yes please”
“oh- great, i can text you some details?”
“yeah, i’d like that”
you weren’t really sure how to end the call or why he’d even called in the first place- but he wrapped it up with a few mumbles.
“jus’ wanted to hear y’say it, wanted t’make sure”
he shows up at dinner without a mask on and you’re sure you’re staring up at him like he’s made of moonlight but you can’t find it within yourself to care.
fuck he’s handsome.
and broad, the buttoned shirt he’s wearing just stretches over his arms where he’s rolled the sleeves to his elbows.
borderline pornographic.
you try to shut your own mind up, realising all the man’s done is open the restaurant door for you and you’re literally have salacious thoughts about him.
have some decorum!
he pulls out your seat for you but insists on sitting with his back to a wall and a line of sight to the door. you don’t mind, it means the light behind him virtually makes him glow.
fuck he’s handsome.
his voice is so deep you have to lean in on the table to hear him and all it means is you can smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating off of him.
when he locks eyes with the waiter he does a subtle little flick of his fingers and the man’s heading right for him- he really exudes an air of dominance.
if you don’t marry this man you might die.
he asks you a lot of questions and seems genuinely surprised when you ask ‘and you?’ after every one.
surprised that somebody would care.
he answers with an endearing honesty and you feel all the better for knowing he prefers tea to coffee and starts his day with a cold shower.
his hand fidgets on the table part way through dessert and you have to ask what’s wrong.
“y’got a little somethin’ there”
he gestures to the corner of his mouth. it isn’t lost on you that his fingers immediately go back to flexing around the table cloth.
your hand doesn’t even move to wipe your mouth, your eyes soften just a little as you speak instead.
“you can get it if you want?”
his heart all but stops.
big hand rising to your face, fingers cupping your jaw as his thumb wipes the smudge of cream from the corner of your mouth.
he brings his thumb to your mouth when your tongue peeks out to lick the tip of it.
simon’s knee hits the underside of the table.
and you giggle.
fuck he’s handsome.
reluctantly, he lowers his hand but leaves it on your side of the table so you can hold it. his skin feels rough but he thinks it’s never been softer than when you’re holding it.
you both opt to walk home (hand still in hand) and you’ve never felt safer. you spend the entire walk talking about nothing and everything and you could scream when you end up at your front door.
it does allow you both to linger, neither one of you wanting to call it a night quite yet.
simon seems good at lingering, at yearning, at putting off what he doesn’t and does want.
so, like you were the one to make the first move-
you’re the one to make the second.
(his tongue feels great on yours)
you go to bed alone that night and it makes the most sense but it also fucking sucks because you know-
you know what you want.
and what you want is currently walking home beneath streetlights with the biggest smile he’s had this side of enlistment.
you accept the fact you’ll need to take things slow, that he obviously needs time and a lot of reassurance and you’d hate to push him too far with your own desire and-
and your phone buzzes.
“coffee tomorrow morning?”
“yes please”
the talking stage really doesn’t last long.
not when you’re kicking your feet in bed and hugging your phone to your chest.
not when johnny texts simon asking how the date went and he’s responding ‘not bad, might be in love’
talking stage doesn’t last long but everything else does.
it’s simply a doorway into a long and happy life.
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moonlight-prose · 1 month
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HEART MADE OF GLASS
a/n: this is totally not to make myself feel better. totally not self indulgent cause i couldn't finish cooking my dinner last night. that gif is also self indulgent. but also hopefully a distraction from how angsty this kind of is. divider as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics.
summary: you couldn't control when they could come. the waves of nothingness - of battling with your body and mind in the hopes it would cause a shift. you wanted to control it. he simply wanted to help.
word count: 1.1k
pairing: logan howlett x reader
warnings: angst, fluff, disassociating, depression isn't outright stated but that's what it is, meat eating (sorry i'm an iron anemic bitch), logan's love language being acts of service.
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The fire alarm never went off when you were in the kitchen. So he felt his heart jump at the sound of it blaring through the small apartment. Even down the hall and in the bathroom he smelled the bitter smoke as it rose from the pan you were currently staring at. A blank expression on your face and hand gripping the handle.
He meant to grab his flannel and join you for dinner. What he didn't expect was the emptiness of a silent kitchen not filled with your usual music. Your soft hums as you try to keep in tune with the song.
Logan's favorite pastime was standing in the doorway watching you cook whatever creation came to mind. Whether it tasted good or positively vile, he'd eat it one way or another. He'd swallow happily with a grin simply to see that smile bloom across your face. A look he did everything possible to keep right where it was meant to be.
"Bub?"
You startled, flinching at the sound of the alarm as you shoved the pan away from the burner. "Shit. Sorry."
A frown etched onto his face at your quick apology—your eyes never quite meeting him. "Everythin' okay?"
"Yeah," you said, lying right through your teeth. "I just got distracted."
Logan could hear the bullshit louder than the alarm. He knew something was wrong, because he'd seen it before. The silence that filled a once loud household. How you slowed down during the day, unable to finish simple tasks without pushing yourself over the edge. He watched you dwindle down to the barest bones your body had to offer and yet you never asked him for help.
You never explained why it occurred.
This wasn't in part because you didn't want to. You did. You simply held no real reason for why your body—your mind—chose to betray you at the oddest of times. At first you figured it was the lack of sleep. The restlessness that ate away at your body each night—keeping you up and active until finally you wore yourself out.
But this wasn't that.
This came from deep inside your chest, lingering beneath the surface—waiting for something good to happen before it struck with a vengeance. This protruded out of your very nightmares.
"Need some help?" He knew the answer before it came. No.
What could he possibly do that you hadn't tried a million times over? There was no easy fix for something this brutal. Silently, you begged him to leave the kitchen and find something else to occupy his time. He stubbornly stood behind you, watching over your shoulder as you dumped the now burned pan in the sink. What might have been a delicious steak now looked like a charred brick.
The sight of it still smoking only seemed to dampen your mood further.
You fought to keep yourself there, in the moment. But the dazed expression from earlier began to slowly trail its way back up your face. Until you could do nothing but stare at the mess you made, exhaustion slicing down to your bones.
His looming presence became an afterthought to all that filtered through your head. All the brittle and vile thoughts you tried to keep at bay. Some days they managed to weasel their way past your infinite walls. Some days...they found joy in tearing you up inside little by little.
Voicing it aloud though would never be an option to the havoc you tried to tame.
"C'mon," he muttered, his hands pulling at your hips to move you. "Out of the kitchen."
"I can finish–"
His glare was devastating.
Most of the time you'd ask him to tell you what he was thinking. Tonight you understood his demand. Get out of the kitchen before you hurt yourself. Let him do what you often did for everyone else.
Give him the chance to put you first.
He points to the chair originally pulled out for him. "Sit down."
But unlike other people he encountered, you were far more stubborn. "I don't–"
"Sit on the chair bub. Or I'll tie you to it." The grin he gives you is filled with sarcasm, but you can see the truth shining in his eyes. He wouldn't hesitate to follow through on a promise like that. He wouldn't even blink. "Your choice."
There was no argument left to throw at him, because his attention was elsewhere. So you sat. You allowed yourself to rest as he stumbled his way through the kitchen. Logan couldn't really cook. He picked up what he could through the life he lived, but nothing came out exactly perfect. That wasn't what warmed your heart at the sight of him standing there intent on delivering a meal worth eating.
He didn't shy away when you tried to push. When the horror that you needed someone to help was no longer a fact you could ignore. No matter how hard you shoved and bit and did what you could to scare him off. Logan pushed back. He quelled your bite with a stature of resolute stoicism.
With an exhale, he flipped the burner off and slid whatever he'd made onto a clean plate. Watching him move felt as if you were being placed in a trance. You almost told him that once in your first week of dating. Something told you he already knew by the way your eyes tracked him from the kitchen to the table.
"Steak," he said, sitting with a grunt.
A quick glance told you one thing. Logan didn't know shit about cooking steak.
You grinned nonetheless.
"There's..." Red spilled down the side, pooling on the plate as steam hit your face. "How long did you cook it?"
He shrugged, slicing it with ease and plopping a piece into his mouth. "Tastes fine to me."
"I'm sure it does."
"Watch it bub," he muttered mid chew, his lips curled into a smirk.
Making a show of zipping your lips shut, you took the piece he offered you. And as he did each time before, you ate it with a grin simply to watch his smirk turn into a smile. There may have been no salt, no extra flavor, and strangely a charred sensation with each bite. But you could taste the love spreading across your tongue with ease.
"Delicious," you garbled in the hopes he'd understand how much you loved him.
He snorted, shoving the plate to the center of the table. His thumb swiped at the juice that leaked from the corner of your mouth, causing your heart to jump erratically in your chest. Even on your bad days he managed to flip the switch in your mind with simple touches and soft looks.
"'M gonna order a pizza."
Leaning into his hand, you pressed a kiss to his wrist. "Thank you."
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inkskinned · 8 months
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yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."
i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.
the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.
mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.
later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.
sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.
but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.
i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.
every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.
wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?
the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:
he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.
every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.
mahler's fifth still makes me sick.
give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.
give me back what you took from me.
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fishnapple · 20 days
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Channelled message: The moment they fall in love with you
(lover/partner/future spouse)
This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.
Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐
About me | Masterpost
Book a reading with me - KO-FI (Read this post : personal reading)
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1. Carnelian
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I have to admit that I look like a human being but sometimes I feel like an oyster. I wish I could have their shell, hiding myself behind a sturdy, protective barrier that no one can touch me. I would feel invincible in my weakness, in the darkness that my shell provided, taking a peek only now and then. You must be getting tired of this hide and seek game that I subjected you to, to be an unwilling gamer.
But even then, you excelled at that game, just like in everything you do. How did you beat the game? You ignored the rules, of course. You didn't let me hide, and what is there to be sought if there was no hiding.
You were a magician, transformed the most dire thing into the most hopeful thing. A magician with an X-ray machine, you peered into my inner most thoughts and feelings without opening my shell.
I felt scared and rage at first, who are you to dare to do that to me? I flipped out, of course, natural reaction of someone who had been in hiding for who knows how long. I got angry, I shouted, I cried, I held my breath, and I looked at you, begging you to stop seeing me, knowing me, accepting me. I must look like a clown to you back then.
But you just smiled. A triumphant smile, the smile that someone has after searching for something for so long and finally found it. I could feel you saying this to me: "I'm not an oyster and I'm not the kind to fall in love with an oyster, stop role-playing and sit with me side by side."
And that was how I turned into a proper human and learnt to love properly. Before, it felt like I was a story teller, someone looking from afar, at a safe distance, through the telescope, peered into life. I saw myself being with you, but I didn't really know the me who was being with you, how did they feel. And you reached out your hand, pulled the telescope aside, let me become the one that I had been watching all along and let me feel what they had felt.
I want to confess, sometimes I couldn't shake this dissociated feeling about everything. Sometimes, it feels like I was dangling between two worlds. But I have something new with me, a hope, a faith, that you would be there for me at that time, pull me back to you or accompany me in whatever that world I'm in.
Note: The moment your person falls in love with you would be when they feel seen by you, for all their light and darkness, the beautiful and the ugly parts of them. They're scared of this feeling, it makes them vulnerable. You unmask them, make them come out of their shell and be their real self, no more hiding. The way you do it is gentle and considerate, but the feeling they have will be devastating. They probably are someone who is more detached and isn't too involved with everything for fear of getting hurt. But after falling in love with you, even though the feeling of detachment about the world sometimes still lingers but they will also have the faith that there's someone who can see and understand them, who they can just be and come closer.
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2. Aventurine
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Sometimes, I feel like a bottle floating in this vast ocean of life. People around me, they seem to float right past me. If I could find a companion, then they would just stay for a fleeting moment and then ready to move on, leaving me behind to swim alone again. It never occurred to me that I might have looked at the wrong place.
Call me childish or sentimental, but whenever I looked at you, I felt like Ariel, the little mermaid, hiding behind the rocks to sneak a glance at the prince. You seemed so sure, so fine, so stable, so fixed, so opposite of me.
While I needed to hold on to something to keep me in one place and safe, you were just there, magnificent like the sun, without a care of the world. My soul was transfixed.
Many came to me with their offers, but their light paled in comparison to you, the true light. They were like the moon while you were the sun, and even though I'm a coward, I still dare to be ambitious and aim for the sun. It's like a moth to a flame.
Your smiles were and still are the warmest. They made the cold creature in me surrender and crawled out of the dark to actually stand in the light before you. Was it a kind of reverence? I dare not to use such a heavy word. And I dared not to impose my heavy feelings on you.
The moment I saw your light, I had already become speechless. I wanted to tell you many things, the good, the bad, the silly but I couldn't find the words. And that was fine, really. I found love in the silence of our existence together.
You taught me that life was not just about constantly swimming and floating but it can also be about being still and taking in all the things around us, and taking out all the things inside us. To lay them out on a table and let the other pick what they like, making a trade. You keep something of mine, and I keep something of yours.
Note: Before meeting you, falling in love with you, this person just floated through life with several superficial connections that, at the end of the day, made them feel even more lonely than before. There is a feeling of being lost in the dark, forever grasping for something. Then the moment they see you, your composure, your stillness and your stability will draw them in, probably a moment where you will display a sense of responsibility and confidence, being there for them, being their rock. They will feel a sense of finally being able to rest, to stand still and enjoy life.
Their temperament and yours are probably opposite of each other. Opposite attracts.
The moment they fall in love will also be the moment they put you on a pedestal, a fixed place for them to look up to. And at the same time, they will want to fuse with you, to possess some of your traits while you are taking in their influences. The feeling, the desire for belonging will be the spark that ignite their love for you.
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3. Agate
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You want me to tell you the moment that I fell in love with you? Can I be greedy and tell you many moments instead?
I don't have a love switch in me that can switch on and off suddenly. The concept of love at first sight perplexed me.
To me, loving you feels like the spread of the ink, the water that flows slowly, the trail that we keep walking on. I felt like a piece of paper with a corner touched by the tip of your pen absentmindedly. The ink just spread slowly, but everywhere, until the piece of paper turned completely into your colour. A natural progression, the inevitable.
We debated, we laughed, we played, we dreamed, we ran, we feared. All of those moments, together, made the ink soaked deeper and deeper still, forming indelible marks on me.
I had put a lot of thoughts into this subject, believe me, about why did I fall in love with you and I had no answer, to this day still don't. I'm afraid, actually, to find the answer. What if the moment I put a definition to it, the moment the answer materialise in my head, it becomes a checklist? If the things in that checklist become untrue, will I just fall out of love with you? I'm scared of my mind sometimes, it kills the magic. Yes, I believe in magic. Even if I know that the magic trick in the show is all about the sleight of hand, but in some corners of my heart, I still believe in the real magic of the act. A part of me refuses to see the logic, the reality. Let me dream a little and don't ask me to define the indefinable, that is our love. Let things stay inexplicable sometimes.
Note: This person refused to define any moment as the moment they fell in love with you. It's a gradual progress for them. Everything you guys did together is another drop of ink (their word) making the love deeper.
They couldn't tell the beginning of it, and they are afraid of thinking about it, actually. It makes them dread the possible ending.
To this person, love is a journey, stretched through the span of their life, there is no start point nor an end point. They are highly rational and in their head a lot. Notice that they used the word "think" and "head". But they are aware that a part of them, their heart, yearn for something magical, the inexplicable and they want their love to be that way, to escape the scrutiny of their head, to leave out the logic.
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4. Citrine
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I had a belief that life is supposed to be an endless journey. We constantly have to keep moving, never stop. Whatever we are doing, whoever we are meeting, one day, they will all go away, leaving us, alone, on our journey. And I had been living with that belief for a very long time. Until you.
Being with you made me question if it was really necessary to be always on the move, to be alone on my journey. Yes, it's necessary to be always on the move, but it's not necessary to be alone. Just like a ship, they stop, the passengers step out, new passengers step in, and the ship goes on. But the captain and the crews won't change, they are together with the ship. And I wanted you to be the captain of my ship.
Changes are good, but having someone going along with you through all of those changes is even better, or best. I moved a lot, I travelled a lot, constantly seeking, constantly reaching. It wore my soul down. Some days, I just arrived home then threw myself on the bed, exhausted, trying to sleep to save the energy for the next day. It went on and on, the motion. I had all these experiences, all these wonderful stories along my travels that I didn't know whom to share with. I didn't have someone to hold me when I felt shaken, to whisper that everything would be okay. Until you.
Maybe the path I need to travel wasn't just to some faraway places but also to you all along. For the first time, I wanted to hang on dearly to something, someone, to you and to our relationship. To have a real home, to see myself so connected to you that the thought of leaving would be immediately banished out of my mind, to imagine myself being a parent to our children. I contemplated all of these and I saw all of these in my mind, clear as day.
Note: Before being in a relationship with you, this person had been travelling alone, constantly on the move, never had concrete, long-lasting connections with anyone. Could be due to their job and environment that they had to move a lot. It made them exhausted and didn't have enough energy for anything else.
But by meeting you, being in a relationship with you, their belief has changed. They want a companion, someone whom they can commit to and build a stable life with. Even with all the travelling, they can still feel the sense of being anchored. That's when this person falls in love with you. Now they have someone whom they can offer their love, their stories to, whom they can imagine a future home life with, who can hold them close without holding them down.
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5. Labradorite
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I have always yearned to be a part of a romantic fairy tale since I was a kid. Keep this a secret for me, okay? I dream of the two characters meeting at the most fateful moment, going through many hardships, longing for each other, and finally, at the end of the tale, pulling each other into an eternal kiss. And guess what, I actually have that with you! Minus the ending part and eternal kiss, we don't end, and an eternal kiss will make us out of breath. But you get the gist of it.
The first time you had to go away, I thought I would be fine, it's not like you went away forever, it was just a trip. And then, with each day, I found myself growing more restless. Constantly asking in my head, "Hey, where are you now? What are you doing?" Talking with you through the phone wasn't enough, I wished we had a telepathic line constantly connected to each other. Oh wait, maybe we do, I even saw you in my dreams.
And then you came back. That moment when I saw you, I felt something bursting inside me, like a balloon kept getting bigger and bigger inside me, pressed and stretched my outside taut. It hit me like lightning, I was a tree rooted in one place and lightning just strike down. I burst open and revealed my thumping heart inside. Was I overreacting?
I wished the place that you and I met on that day were our home so that I could play the longing character and finally welcome their lover home. Your familiar face is the face I want to see whenever I open the door. Your laughter is the one I want to hear whenever I say something funny (in my mind) or ridiculous. And your embrace is the one I want to be in whenever I realise I have someone by my side.
Note: This person might develops feeling for you for a long time but won't realise it themselves. Until you have to go away someday, it won't be a true separation. Might just be a business trip or some long vacation.
Your absence will make them feel a longing for you that they can't really explain because the situation won't be dire and serious, just a normal, temporary separation.
When they finally get to see you, all those longing feelings will come bursting out, and that's when they will realise they love you. You guys will actually do many things that they fantasise about when they were a kid. It will feel like a truly magical thing for them.
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6. Amethyst
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Ah yes, we can always tell our children and our grandchildren how we felt in love at a party, making them jealous of our boldness. Now I'm getting ahead of myself.
What better way to celebrate than to have someone with you to share the joy with. You're always like that to me. Whatever joy I have, whatever joy you have, we've never failed to share it with each other. And I'm honoured.
My wish had finally come true. I have achieved many of my ambitions. I can confidently say that I had been working hard and I earned it.
And that's when I saw you. I can also confidently say that you looked stunning at that party. You looked happy and I could feel that somehow our happiness was on a similar wavelength.
I have to admit, the afterglow feeling of my success made me a lot more bold and optimistic than normal. If it was the past me, I would probably have swept the attraction under many layers of insecurities and nervousness. Trying to convince myself that it was just a delusion.
But here I was. I dared to look for love. I mean, I had achieved success in different areas, there's no way I couldn't be successful in love, right? Logical, you can't argue with that (of course you will)
Deep inside me, I probably had felt that love would be the biggest achievement I could get. And I was willing to set out again, to put my effort into achieving that dream, with you.
Note: This group is strangely short. This is a person that hides a lot of their thought to themselves and they find expressing what they feel through words is difficult. They are more actions oriented. Prefer to set out milestones and goals to achieve. They consider everything good in their life is their achievement.
You guys probably meet at a celebration party, maybe you won't be there to attend the party but just coincidentally in the same space, maybe a restaurant, an open space.
They will have achieved some big milestones that make them proud and more confident, they put in their effort and now they can reap the reward.
The feeling of joy will be heightened. And amidst that celebration, they will see you and fall in love, very likely a love at first sight situation. And they will believe that they can achieve happiness with you.
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punkshort · 25 days
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First Impressions
Thanks anon for this request!
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader one-shot
Summary: When your heater breaks in the dead of winter, you get more than you bargained for when Joel Miller arrives to fix it.
Warnings: language, some fluff, the stress and fear that comes with living in the wilderness during a zombie apocalypse, competency kink (a little), smut (18+ MDNI), dirty talk
WC: 4.2K
Adjusting to life in Jackson was tough. You had been on your own for so long, you found it nearly impossible to ever fully relax. You were grateful Tommy and Maria took you in after one of their patrols stumbled across you freezing in the thick Wyoming wilderness, but to be yanked from the brink of death and dropped into some thriving community that seemingly even managed to still celebrate the holidays was too jarring.
So, you kept to yourself for a while. You pitched in around the stables. It was where you felt most comfortable: less people, more animals. You didn't go to the dining hall to eat and you didn't visit the bar for a drink. You had a clear cut path from your house to the stables and back, and you rarely ever strayed.
Unfortunately, while Jackson had a lot to offer and did incredibly well at reviving civilization, things still did break. Like your space heater.
You piled on extra blankets for a week, and then you moved to the living room to sleep on the tiny sofa in front of the fireplace, but eventually your back was screaming at you for it and the cold weather wouldn't let up for at least another two months, so you had no choice but to ask for help.
Tommy was shocked you hadn't said something sooner and apologized for making you feel like you couldn't ask for help, even though it wasn't at all his fault or anyone else's except your own, and promised to have his brother stop by that afternoon to take a look at it.
While you kept to yourself and hardly socialized at all, that didn't stop you from overhearing things at the stables. You knew of Tommy's brother. How people whispered rumors behind his back and fell silent whenever he stepped foot inside the building.
Did you know he slit a raider's throat and made the guy's girlfriend watch?
He beat the shit out of Seth the other night just for looking at him wrong.
Back in Boston, I heard he knocked some guy's teeth down his throat for taking the last of the beef jerky.
Someone told me he only sleeps two hours a night.
He fixed Greg's shower and told him not to fuck it up again or else he'll be taking baths in the kitchen sink.
Were you intimidated? Maybe a little. But you had been on your own for so long, fighting and scratching and clawing to stay alive. Some asshole wasn't going to shake you up.
Then you saw him.
Well, you'd seen him before, sure. But just glimpses in the barn or passing by him on the street. Never up close.
When you opened your front door later that afternoon, you were a little taken aback. He was so much more handsome than you had thought. He was built like a refrigerator; broad and strong. His cheeks and chin were dusted in a patchy, greying beard, growing right below a hooked nose and deep, velvety brown eyes. There were a few scars littering his bronzed skin but what drew your attention more was his hair. His fucking hair. Loose, mostly grey curls that fell past his ear and down the back of his neck. Not long enough to pull into a ponytail, like Tommy, but give it a few more months and he might. He had them pushed back from his face, making the silken locks look like a cascading river so enticing, you had to hold yourself back from touching them.
He said your name and readjusted the toolbox in his hand and you blinked yourself back to life before stepping aside to let him in. When he passed you, you were hit with the strong scent of wood shavings and coffee, an intoxicating combination that had your brain buffering once again.
"Tommy said you needed your heater looked at?"
You nodded and pointed up the stairs. "It's in my bedroom. Can I, uh, get you something to drink? Coffee?"
He perked up at that once he slid off his jacket and shoes. "You got coffee?"
You nodded and walked toward the kitchen, rummaging through your meager belongings until you found the precious tin can. "That's the one thing I always made sure I grabbed if I ever saw it out there. If we have to live like this, at least I'm still having my coffee."
Joel grinned and set the toolbox down on your counter, watching as you filled up a kettle with water. His heart was hammering wildly in his chest. He couldn't believe how lucky he was that your stupid heater broke, giving him the perfect excuse to finally meet you so he could stop pining from afar. "You don't like it much here, then?"
You startled at that, giving him a look of surprise before lighting your stove.
"No, I didn't mean here, I just meant... you know... the world in general."
"I know, I'm just teasin' you," he said a little awkwardly with a soft chuckle. You turned around, leaning against your counter and crossing your arms over your chest. You had just spoken a few words but so far, nothing about this man screamed scary. In fact, he seemed rather... sweet.
"How long have you been here?" you asked while you waited for the water to boil.
"'Bout five years," he said thoughtfully, scratching his chin. "You're new, though."
You nodded, your fingers fidgeting underneath your bicep. "Yeah. I think it's been almost a month. I'm not really sure, never bothered keeping track of the days out there."
Joel studied you up for a moment, picking up on your eyes shifting over your surroundings, your foot tapping anxiously on the floor, and the way you kept your back protected when you spoke to him.
"I remember when we first got here," Joel said. Your fidgeting paused and you looked at him again. "It was tough. Acclimatin' to this kind of life. Hard to sleep. Hard to trust anyone. It took time but eventually, you start sleepin' soundly again and that guard comes down. You'll see."
A slow smile spread across your face and you looked down shyly at your feet. "Am I that obvious?"
Joel laughed and strolled over to the two mugs and can of instant coffee you had sitting out. "Wouldn't say it's obvious but I haven't seen you at the dining hall one time. In fact, pretty sure this is the first time I've heard your voice." Your cheeks warmed up behind his back and you bit your lower lip. So he's noticed you enough to realize you never went to the dining hall.
"It's a pretty one," he said over his shoulder, focusing on scooping the correct amount of coffee into each mug. "Your voice, I mean. Shame you been keepin' it hidden all this time."
"O-oh," you stuttered, completely flustered by his compliments. This was not at all the man everyone made him out to be. "Thank you."
Joel carefully poured the boiling water into each mug before giving them each a stir, then handed you one. "You're welcome, darlin'. Now why don't you show me to your bedroom?"
Your eyes must have bugged out of your head because at first, he frowned, then after he realized what he said, turned a shade of pink you didn't know he was capable of.
"I mean, for the heater."
"Yeah, oh Christ, I know," you said, waving him off and heading for the stairs, your mug clutched so tightly in one hand you thought it might break. You lead Joel to the first door on the left and stepped back so he had room to swing his toolbox through the narrow door with him.
"I don't know what happened," you said, trailing in after him while he began to set out some tools on the ground. When he knelt down, he groaned at the creak in his knees and you quickly grabbed a spare pillow. "Here, kneel on this," you offered. He looked up at the pillow, then at you, and shook his head.
"I ain't kneelin' on your pillow."
"It's a spare. I only use the one. And honestly, even that seems too much sometimes."
He sighed and hesitated for only a moment longer before taking the pillow from your hand. "Thank you," he said softly. You smiled and sat down on the edge of your bed after putting your coffee on the end table with his.
"Anyway. As I was saying, I don't know what happened. It was working fine and then one day it just wouldn't turn on. I tried other outlets and I didn't see any issues with the cord, so I just gave up."
Joel began to unscrew the back of the heater while he listened. "So you gave up and slept in the cold for two weeks?"
"Nothing I wasn't used to."
He couldn't argue with that.
The two of you sat in a comfortable silence while he worked until he began to hum some old country song under his breath, making you smile again. You couldn't remember the last time you smiled so much.
"What're you smilin' for?" he asked with a sparkle of amusement in his eyes.
"You aren't at all the way people say you are," you said boldly.
He quirked an eyebrow and turned his attention back to his work. "And what have you heard?"
You shrugged and leaned back on your hands. "Threatened a man after breaking his shower. Knocked out some guy named Seth. That you only sleep two hours a night," you chuckled at the last one when you heard how silly it sounded.
"Well," Joel said with a heavy sigh. "I didn't threaten anyone about their shower. Just reminded him he's gotta take care of the pipes or else the whole place'll rot."
You grinned to yourself as he continued to explain the rumors.
"I did punch Seth but he said somethin' real nasty 'bout my girl and, well, that just don't sit right with me."
Your grin slid right off your face. "Your girl?"
He stopped what he was doing and swiveled around to face you. "My - Ellie. Her name's Ellie. She's, uh, well... she ain't my daughter, but..."
Relief flooded your veins. "Oh. I thought you meant -"
"No, no," Joel said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "No, not like that." He twirled a wrench around in between his fingers as he nervously bit the inside of his cheek before adding, "Don't got anyone like that."
Your mouth formed a silent oh. Message received.
Joel cleared his throat again and turned back to the heater. "And the sleep thing, well, they got me there," he chuckled with a shake of his head. "Although some nights are better than others."
"I know what you mean," you said with a nod. After a moment of silence, Joel smiled to himself.
"Imagine y'do if you ain't got any heat at night."
You giggled and he smiled again, this time his chest swelling when he heard you laugh.
Joel continued to work on the heater while you studied him quietly. He took you by complete surprise. The last thing you expected was to make a friend out of the fearsome Joel Miller. It didn't hurt that he was so easy on the eyes, either. How old was he? Your gaze roamed over his greying hair and the crinkles next to his eyes. Older than you, definitely, but it was hard to tell by how much.
You couldn't even remember the last time you were interested in anyone. It must have been when you were in the Atlanta QZ, and that was years ago.
"Alright, let's give her a run," Joel suddenly said. When you refocused on him, you saw he had put the heater back together and was fixing it upright. He plugged it into the wall and hovered his finger over the power button before glancing back at you. "Ready?"
You nodded and swung your legs back and forth over the edge of your bed, then he winked at you, sending warmth all over your body. Jesus, if Joel kept giving you little looks like that, you wouldn't have much need for a heater anymore.
He pressed the button and sure enough, the coils inside the heater began to glow orange and heat started to fill the room.
"Oh!" you exclaimed, jumping off the bed in excitement. "Thank you!" you added, kneeling on the floor as well so you could warm your hands in front of the heater.
"Anytime," Joel murmured, and it wasn't until you heard the deep timber of his voice next to you that you realized he was so close. You tilted your face, smiling shyly at him next to you. Up close, you could see the fine lines in his face in much more detail, each one calling out to you to trace with your fingertip. When you met his gaze, you found he had been examining you, as well. Quickly, you looked away and stood up.
"Is there anythin' else?" Joel asked as he began to pack up his toolbox. You shook your head.
"No, I think that'll do it."
"You sure? Thought I saw that faucet drippin' in the kitchen."
You frowned. "No, I didn't notice that," you said slowly.
"What 'bout those windows?" he asked, standing up with a grunt and gesturing to the two bedroom windows on the other side of the room. "Need help hangin' curtains?"
You looked where he was pointing. "No, never really bothered me. Besides, it faces the backyard. No one can see in."
He laughed softly and rubbed his chin before shooting you a sheepish look. "I'm tryin' to find a reason to stay, sweetheart."
Your eyes widened and once again, you felt your cheeks heat up.
"Oh," you said, shyly dropping your gaze to the floor to hide your smile. "I would like that."
"Yeah?" he asked, and you nodded.
"Yeah. You're, um," you shifted your weight nervously, "you're sweet. And nice."
Joel huffed and set his toolbox back down. "I ain't nice all the time," he warned. "But you ain't gotta worry 'bout that."
"No?" you questioned, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as he began to close the distance between you.
He sighed and cupped your face with both hands. Your body instantly melted at his touch, your knees practically giving out when he dragged his thumb across your lip, saving it from your teeth. "Am I readin' this wrong?" he asked, his eyes darting all over your face. You quickly shook your head and stepped even closer.
"Thank Christ," he breathed before capturing your lips in a deep kiss. It had been several years and you were a little rusty, but you quickly found it was like riding a bike.
Joel's kiss lit a fire in you, one that had gone dormant for so long. Your fingers curled around the lapels of his flannel, the material warm and soft, just like him, and with the confidence boost that came from his hands dropping to grab excitedly at your hips, you walked him backwards until he bumped against the edge of your mattress.
He sat down on your bed with an oomph and you crawled into his lap, not once breaking the kiss.
"Wish I got to know you sooner," he whispered, tipping his head back when your lips traveled down his neck. Fuck, even his neck was sexy. "Always so skittish and shy," he continued, his palms gliding up and down your back.
You laughed softly against his skin and leaned back. "You still don't really know me."
He grinned and shrugged. "I'd like to, if you're willin'," he said, his vulnerability making your chest ache. You sunk your teeth into your lower lip again and nodded.
"Good," he said, his hands roaming further past your waist to cup your ass. "'Cause I like what I know so far."
"You're full of surprises," you told him, giggling when he gave your ass a firm squeeze. "You're so much more... you're more gentle and sweet than I expected."
Joel smirked and tugged you closer so you felt his erection trapped within his jeans. "I can be gentle," he told you, nipping at your jaw. "Or I can be rough. Whatever you like."
You swallowed when you caught the mischievous glint in his dark eyes. "Oh, yeah?"
"Mhmm," he said, and before you could blink he had spun you around so your back was pressed into the mattress while he hovered above you. You had to admit, he was adorable. He had to be pushing sixty but he was talking like a man half his age. After you heard the way his knees creaked when he was fixing your heater, you figured he was all talk, or maybe he just needed the ego boost to hype himself up.
But the speed in which he removed your clothes should have been the first sign that your impression of him was wrong. When he buried himself inside you, his surprisingly thick length stretching you open and nudging the furthest depths of you, you got the message.
When you gasped and tipped your head back, his big hand immediately rose to cup the side of your face and tilt it back down so he could watch your face as you unraveled beneath him. Each little noise and moan seemed to egg him on, like he fed off your sounds and the way your face twisted in pleasure when his coarse hair rubbed against your clit with each roll of his hips.
"Wanna see you," he explained, eyes scanning all over your face. "Wanna watch you take it. You'll keep your eyes on me, won't you? Hm? You'll be good for me, yeah?"
You nodded, your mind a muddled mess. The only thing you could seem to focus on was the slow and deliberate drag of his heavy cock in and out of you. Joel pressed your knees back against your chest as far as you could handle and pushed inside you further with a rough grunt. He managed to get so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach and the sensation left you breathless.
"So fuckin' pretty, y'know that?" he groaned, gazing down at you without breaking rhythm. His long locks loosened and hung past his eyes, tempting you to smooth them back. "Wanted to get to know you f'so long but I couldn't ever catch your eye," he admitted with a little smirk. You moaned when his hips began to swirl, switching the angle ever so slightly and setting your nerves alight.
"I-I... oh, god," you whined, already struggling to keep your eyes on him like he asked. "I didn't know."
He lunged forward and crashed his mouth against yours hungrily, his exhale fanning over your cheek. Then just as suddenly as he kissed you, he leaned back and pulled out.
"Turn over," he instructed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he dragged in air. You did as you were told and shakily held yourself up on your hands and knees.
"Fuck," he muttered behind you. Your face went hot and you tucked your chin into your shoulder as you waited for him to enter you again, but he chose to take an extra minute to glide his hand over the curves of your hips and ass. If you had been able to see him, you would have seen a look of awe and appreciation on his face.
"Always wondered what you had hidden under all those clothes," he said as he lined himself up at your entrance. You cried out his name when he finally slid back inside, the angle already too intense and he hadn't even begun to move. "Goddamn, wanna run my tongue over every fuckin' inch of you, baby," he growled, fingers gripping your sides as he tried to ground himself.
He gave you a few gentle thrusts to get used to it before he couldn't hold back any longer. He pounded into you, his eyes fixed on your ass and the way it bounced with every snap of his hips. One hand slowly reached down to trace your spine, marveling at the way your body welcomed him. Then you arched your back and you both moaned at the slight change and he could feel his stomach begin to tense in anticipation of his release.
"So fuckin' tight," he said through clenched teeth. You could hear him breathing heavily as his thrusts grew sloppy and you began to panic, sensing he was about to come before you were ready. But then as if he read your mind, one of his hands snaked around your front to draw fast circles over your clit.
"C'mon, give it t'me," he said with a grunt. "Wanna feel this perfect pussy squeeze me, want you to be feelin' me for fuckin' days, sweetheart."
"Oh, shit," you gasped, mouth hanging open in a mixture of ecstasy and surprise. You wondered how on earth everyone in town had so much to say about Joel's reputation but somehow managed to leave out how mind-blowing he happened to be in bed.
"Christ, honey. Ain't gonna last much longer," he groaned, his fingers working even faster between your legs. He pounded into you harder, punching the air from your lungs and pushing you closer and closer to your peak. Your breaths were coming in shallow pants and you could feel the swell building deep inside you, threatening to unleash at any second. You reached behind you frantically, searching for some part of him to hold onto when you found his hand pressed firmly onto your hip. Your fingers clasped over his as you felt the pressure build up quickly and you knew in that moment this one encounter was going to single-handedly ruin you.
The moment you fell apart while practically screaming his name, your cunt pulsing around him and your body shaking, he almost made a huge mistake. Finally getting to witness what you looked like when you came was more than enough, but hearing his name over and over while your body shook with pleasure? It was too much and he was only just a man who was holding on by his goddamn fingernails as it was. But fortunately, he managed to pull out just in time to paint your lower back with his cum. He knew he was making some ungodly sounds as relief flooded his veins, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had been daydreaming about taking you apart like that for weeks and now that he finally had you, there was no turning back.
"Oh, fuck," he gasped, lifting his chin towards the ceiling while dragging in deep lungfuls of air. You collapsed flat onto your stomach with a grunt and he tilted his face back down to grin as how spent you looked.
Still got it.
"I'll be right back, darlin'," he told you. You mumbled something tiredly in response before he slipped out of your room to get a washcloth from your bathroom and returned quickly to clean you up.
"Thank you," you said, turning your face so you could watch him gently wipe up his mess. His eyes flickered to yours and he smirked.
"You thankin' me for fixin' the heater, for fuckin' you, or for cleanin' you up?"
You giggled, your voice a little hoarse when you replied, "All of the above."
You flipped over onto your back and his eyes immediately drifted down your naked body, his breath catching in the back of his throat at how perfect you were. Even better than he ever imagined.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, letting the rag fall to the floor so he could glide his hand up your thigh, over your hips and stomach to one of your breasts which, he realized far too late, had gone neglected. Next time.
"So are you," you whispered back, bringing a hand up to play with the long curls resting on the back of his neck. He shook his head shyly and looked away.
"I need a haircut."
"I like it just the way it is," you told him, twisting a lock of hair around one finger and watching as it loosely bounced back when you let it go. "Gives me something to grab onto," you joked. A wide smile stretched across his face and his eyes looked like he was staring at the tree on Christmas morning.
"So, uh," Joel began when the silence stretched on for too long. "I meant it earlier. 'Bout gettin' to know you better." He couldn't remember the last time he felt so nervous. He could feel his face heating up and he prayed you didn't notice. "I know you don't like goin' to the dining hall but I'd really like to have dinner with you. I can't make much but I can make stew, if y'wanna-"
"I would go to the dining hall with you," you said, cutting him off. His eyes snapped back up to yours and he shot you a nervous smile.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," you said with a little shrug before sitting up and draping your arms around his shoulders. "As long as you're there, I'll go."
He grinned and leaned forward to kiss you, still in complete disbelief his wildest fantasy actually came true.
"How 'bout tomorrow, then?" he asked a little breathlessly when he broke the kiss.
Your eyes lit up and you nodded. "It's a date."
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hazbinwhoree · 8 months
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Guardian Angel
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Part 1/3 Part 2
A/N: Starting a series where f!reader is the child of a demon and a human and Adam’s been tasked with keeping an eye on her. Please leave requests!
“It has recently come to my attention that a demon and a human have reproduced,” Sera announced. 
Adam cocked an eyebrow. “No shit. For real?”
“The spawn is already grown. So far she hasn’t caused any trouble so I do not see the need for actions further than simply keeping an eye on her.”
“Okay and what does that have to do with me?” Adam asked, taking a long sip from his drink.
“You’re going to watch her.”
Adam spit out his drink. “Sorry, what?”
“You’re going to be her guardian angel,” Sera smirked. Adam’s jaw dropped idignantly. “Do I have to?” He whined.
“Yes.”
That’s how Adam found himself on Earth, stalking some random demon/human hybrid.
Although despite his apathy, she wasn’t just some random, a demon/human hybrid was almost unheard of. She was the third documented instance of that happening.
But as far as he could tell, she led a boring, painfully bleak life. Adam almost felt bad for her. She seemed really depressed. But his job was getting boring. Her routine was always the same. Work, sleep, eat, shower. It seemed that the hybrid was completely unaware of her origin and the powers she possessed. It made Adam’s job easy. Easy and boring.
He started fucking with her, using his ability to be invisible to the human eye in order to fuck with things in her apartment to mess with her head.
One day, while her roommate was out, she stood in the middle of her room, staring at nothing. “Come out you annoying fuck!” She called out. It took Adam by surprise. “I know someone is here,” she hissed. “And you’ve been fucking with me, and it’s pissing me off, and I know you’re here right now, so show yourself!”
Adam debated for a moment. Sera had just said to watch over her, she’d never said it had to be no contact. In fact, Adam was pretty sure Sera would prefer he try to bring the hybrid to the light, but she chose the wrong angel for that task.
Tired of watching her while she was unawares, Adam let himself appear to her. He appeared behind her, just to fuck with her one more time. She turned and jumped, and Adam snickered. To his surprise, she recovered rather quickly.
“What the fuck are you?”
Adam was once again taken aback, and then offended. “I’m an angel, babes, could you not tell by the halo and wings?”
“Well you look like a demon," she replied.
Adam scoffed indignantly. “Fuck you.”
“Fuck you! Who are you and why have you been following me?”
“I’m Adam. Like, first man ever, Adam.”
“Wow, I’m so impressed.”
“And who the fuck are you, bitch?”
“Shouldn’t you know that since you’ve been following me?”
Adam was seething. “Yeah well I didn’t give enough of a shit to remember your name when Sera told me.”
The hybrid narrowed her eyes. Adam narrowed his. The attitude on this bitch! He hadn’t seen such life in her in the weeks he’d been watching her. He definitely didn’t enjoy seeing her come to life like this. Totally not (he did).
“Well you might as well tell me cause you’re stuck with me now that you can see me.” Adam smirked.
She huffed. “(Name). I’m (Name). Why am I stuck with you?”
“Because my job is to follow you, babe, orders from the Seraphim herself.”
“But why?”
Adam thought about fucking with her for a moment, before spitting out the truth. “Because you’re a Cambion, and Cambions are dangerous.”
(Name) blinked at him. “The fuck is a Cambion?”
“A demon/human love child.”
“What, so you’re saying one of my parents is a demon and I’m like, half a demon?”
“Basically.”
They stood in silence for a moment while (Name) processed this information.
“So,” Adam broke the silence. “What’s for dinner?”
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fyodoro · 2 months
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ೃ༄ JUST AN INCH AWAY…
ft. Alhaitham, Scaramouche, and Wriothesley
… who said making out was the only way to escape such a predicament? neither of you, apparently. but if it works, it works— even if it wasn’t intentional.
gn!reader, suggestive but not rlly bordering on smut, puzzles gone wrong, forced proximity and enemies with tension type thing, lots of kissing, lots of making out, profanity, harbinger scara, akademiya/academic rival alhaitham | wc : 5.4k
a big thank you to @vxnuslogy for going over scara’s bit for me cause i’ve grown vv unfamiliar with his character over the years, so thank you vee !!
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ALHAITHAM (1.7k wc)
”I swear to Archons, the second I get out of here I’m burning your thesis to ashes.”
Alhaitham’s unbothered expression didn’t falter. “Such a bold assumption. You really think you’re capable of escaping without me?” he reviled, using the split-second your mind went blank as an opportunity to shove you away to an adjacent wall.
Your brows furrowed, hand clutching your side in response to the fleeting moment of pain. “You better do something if this bruises, asshole,” you sneered.
”What sense does it make for me to do something about someone else’s problem?” he retorted, gray strands gone astray as he ran a hand through them.
This might’ve been the most stressed out you’ve ever seen him, you think. It makes plenty of sense, too. You wouldn’t be shocked if he was living out his worst nightmare right now. Two of the things he hates most— you, and a problem he can’t solve— is all he has to work with right now.
Actually, calling this his worst nightmare might be the understatement of the century.
“Two Akademiya students trapped in a cell… oh, all the possibilities. Did I mention they hate each other? That’s a key detail if I do say so myself.”
”I’m trying to focus here,” he said, tone as cold as the very peak of Dragonspine. 
You squatted down beside him, watching his skillful hands work with the broken device that got you trapped here in the first place. “You’re trying to focus, I’m bored. You don’t wanna spend your potential last minutes alive with me, and vice versa. Let’s face it, neither of us are winning here, so you might as well stop being a buzzkill for once.”
”These won’t be my last moments alive, but they might be yours if you don’t pipe down.”
You frowned without another word, surveying his working hands as they meticulously fidgeted with the dysfunctional rune. They’re… nice, you think, oddly enough. The thought alone made you wanna gag, but it wouldn’t be the first time you noticed them.
It also wouldn’t be the first time you noticed his nose scrunches whenever he’s concentrated. You’ve seen it plenty of times, but in this instance, it’s different— you’ve never seen it close up before. Every other time you just happened to catch it from across your shared classroom amidst a lesson, or the Akademiya’s library. No matter the case, there’s never been an appropriate time to tease him about it.
Does this count as an appropriate time? Probably not, but your mouth thinks otherwise.
“You’re gonna have bunny lines by the time you’re 24 if you don’t stop doing that.”
For a moment, he stops. His darkly lit nose inhaled deeply before turning to you, exasperation evident in his eyes. 
“That’s hypocritical, you do it more than me.”
You didn’t waste a second to fire back, eyes locking in on his with jest. “So you confess? You’ve been staring at me, hm?” 
“Do you hear yourself? You admitted the same thing just a moment ago,” he breathed, voice hitching in his throat from the intense irritation he was feeling. He opened his mouth hastily to speak again, but closed it just as fast, resuming his repair of the broken device. 
You scoffed, standing back up to stretch your limbs with a yawn. Just how long has it been now? Minutes? Hours? There was only so much longer you could take, and your patience was running just as thin as Alhaitham’s. 
“Surprise, surprise… you’re doing it again.”
“When we get out of here, I’m sending you to those Kshahrewar scholars. Maybe they’ll be able to install a mute button on you.” 
“I just think you’re jealous of me. Y’know, people actually like me, but I know that’s not the case for you.”
“Fortunately, I couldn't care any less about anyone’s opinion of me. Unlike you, remember?” he reminded, looking up at you from the corner of his eye. “You had a breakdown in the library because you eavesdropped on a group of Amurta students calling you a stuck-up know-it-all.”
Your teeth clenched together, brain stuttering over its thoughts. “That’s because I’m not! I didn’t even know any of them, they were just making stuff up—“
Alhaitham’s ears tuned you out, index finger clicking the last piece together on the rune, getting it to light up successfully. He wiped beads of sweat off his forehead before picking himself up off the ground with a small huff.
“That’s why I was so upset, okay?” you finished, arms shrugged in a defensive manner. Your lips were pressed into a straight line, and your brows only raised at the realization— he wasn’t listening to a single word you said.
“Save your breath,” he started, gesturing to the supposedly fixed mechanism. “We’ll be out of each other’s sight soon.”
“Ohoho,” you chuckled dryly, “not soon enough.” 
You crouched down to the newly repaired rune, fidgeting with it as the symbols changed. Not a single one made the small cell’s bars budge, let alone lift. Slapping a hand to your forehead, you groaned in defeat. 
“Well my good friend, aren’t you just a genius,” you taunted.
“If you had a sliver of patience in that dense head of yours, you’d have known to wait another minute or so.”
“In my defense, you never told me to wait,” you spat. “In fact, it sounded like you wanted me to try it out just so you could call me a fool.”
He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples immediately. “Don’t twist my words. The only one making yourself look like a fool is you.”
“Archons,” you cried out. “All of this could’ve been avoided if you weren’t such a dickhead.”
“And we could’ve had a peaceful time in here if you knew how to shut up.”
“The only way you’re getting me to shut up is if you make me. Otherwise, it’ll be a hot, sunny day in Snezhnaya when I decide to listen to you.”
That was Alhaitham’s final straw. 
“Make you?” he spoke, tall frame slowly moving down towards yours on the ground. The only source of light came from a lone torch beyond the bars that enclosed your cell, and the tiny blue light that glowed from the rune. “Just how can I ‘make you’ shut up?”
You shrugged, taking a moment to note how much closer he was compared to before. 
“Not a clue my dude, not a clue,” you said, mischief lacing your voice. “Unless…”
“Unless?”
“Oh, you know… unless you have a bright idea.” 
You tilted your head to the side, smirking as confliction appeared on his face. His brows have been furrowed for some time now due to your antics, though right now, they looked as if they were slanted out of focus, not fury. The lack of light made it hard to see his eyes clearly, but you swear you caught a glint of desire hidden within them.
He grabbed the back of your head with a solid grip, closing the gap between your faces as his lips took over yours. 
Your eyes shut out of instinct, though his remained half lidded for a few more seconds. He didn’t miss how speedy you were to kiss back, not to mention grab onto his gray locks. You tugged on them, hard. It was just the push he needed to pull your body closer to his, leaving no more space between you two.
Contrary to his cold attitude, his lips were warm, wait— no, he was warm. His body warmed yours, heat rushing to all parts of your body as he moved his hand down from the back of your head to your lower back, holding on tightly when you moved against him. 
Paired with the heat of the moment, the action pulled a small moan from your lips. Alhaitham’s quick thinking allowed him to slide his tongue past your lips at the opening. You didn’t give any pushback, eagerly accepting the wet muscle with a quiet whine. 
Hands flew everywhere— his hair was nothing short of a mess, and you were sure yours wasn’t so neat either. Each time you broke away for air was cut short by Alhaitham, who couldn’t bear a single second without attacking your lips. The only noises that filled the confined room were his grunts and your quiet whimpers, though an occasional moan was thrown into the mix. 
You felt his strong arms move you back, attempting to push your back against the ground for better control. However, his efforts went to waste as you yelped, breaking the kiss to turn around and fiddle with something.
“Oh shit,“ you uttered under your breath. “Look at what you pushed me into.”
He moved away from your body, taking a minute to catch his breath before averting his attention to behind you. What he saw was something be couldn’t believe he forgot about— the rune that got you both stuck in the first place.
As if on cue, it began to blink, followed by thick bars lifting into the ceiling. You laughed loudly, feverish look still apparent on your face from what happened moments prior. 
“You—“ he started, standing up from the cell’s floor in embarrassment. “You are not to speak of this, we are not to bring this up again, got that?” 
Extending a hand out to you, he helped pull you off the ground begrudgingly. You scratch the back of your head sheepishly, looking at anything that wasn’t Alhaitham.
“No promises?” 
He could only scoff at your response, exiting the cell that he so desperately wanted to escape from not so long ago with a frown. Before he could reach the stairwell that led you down here, he turned back to face you. 
“Are you coming?” 
“I— uh…” you stumbled over your words, trying to make sense of everything that just transpired. “Yes! Don’t go without me, you hear?”
He rolled his eyes. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
If this ever happens again, you can only hope your “undying” hatred for Alhaitham won’t waver afterwards. Now you have to bicker with an asshole who just so happened to have had his tongue in your mouth… not to mention he might be the best kisser you’ve ever met.
Great.
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SCARAMOUCHE (1.3k wc)
The room was tight, stuffy, and so hot. 
Well, maybe the heat you felt was your own body temperature. It’s a natural reaction, you think. Yeah, a very, very natural reaction to being in such close proximity with someone you just so happened to find attractive. 
Pushing your bubbling feelings aside, you acknowledge the situation at hand. 
“This is your fault— all your fault!” 
“My fault? Did you forget who set off the wrong mechanism?” Scaramouche barked, furious eyes narrowing in on you. “Incase you somehow forgot, allow me to refresh that poor little memory of yours— it was you,” he hissed, the faint shadow of a smirk etched across his lips added a venom drip onto his words.
You rolled your eyes with a scoff, one that could most definitely be heard from the outside of the small chamber you found yourself trapped in. Seriously, who in their right mind thought it’d be a good idea to send you and the 6th Harbinger on a mission together? No, scratch that. Who thought it’d be a good idea to send him on a mission with anyone besides his masochistic subordinates?
The Tsarsita, apparently. 
Searching for any sign of an exit, your hand brushed against Scaramouche’s. For once, he landed on the same page as you.
“What do you think you're doing?” he spat, swatting your hand away as if it were a mere little fly.
You backed yourself against the wall defensively. The old bricks only extended a few feet wide; just a mere foot away from the other side, too. Unfortunately, this is physically the closest you’ve ever been to the Inazuman, a fact that made you sick. Archons, did it have to be him? Of all people, why was he the one you were trapped with?
“I’m trying to get us out of here. Y’know, so I don’t have to stare at your wretched face any longer.”
“No one’s forcing you to stare at anything, moron.” Groaning, his head motioned back to hit the wall behind it. “Look! So much dust, so much dirt, and it’s all right in front of you!” he sneered tauntingly. “How about you count every little dust particle your eyes can see while I get us out of here?” 
You hadn’t even realized he’d been drawing closer and closer the longer he spoke. Unintentionally, probably. Still, there was hardly any space to begin with, and now he literally had you cornered. 
That part may be intentional, you think.
“I’d rather count every single split-end from that hair of yours, since the darkness wasn’t kind enough to hide them for you.”
He deadpanned at your rebuttal, “Oh, like that has to do with anything.”
“I’m sure I’ll still be counting even after we get out of here,” you tauntingly whispered, face unconsciously growing closer to his. “If you’d open your mind for a moment… I’d recommend seeing a barber when we return.”
“You little—“ his voice came to an abrupt stop, gleaming eyes sharpening in the dimly lit room as he gritted his teeth. 
“Little what? Go on, don’t cut yourself off now,” you mocked, a grin of michief creeping onto your features. “Am I a little bitch, or a little pest? Oh, maybe you had something more creative in mind? Come on now, don’t keep me wai—“
Before you could finish your sentence— hell, before he could think, his lips lunged at yours, capturing them between his own as he pinned your hands on either side of your head firmly.
Your eyes were blown wide, pupils dilated in shock as you processed what was happening. The Balladeer was kissing you. He went from taunting you… to… kissing you…? And it felt good? You didn’t think you hated it. No, you definitely didn’t hate it. 
Kissing back slowly, you gripped onto the hands that restrained yours for better support. Oddly enough, his hold loosened, opting to intertwine your fingers instead. 
He felt something. Heat, maybe? Yeah, that must be it. It was hot. Obviously his mechanical body wasn’t immune to the dangers of overheating, especially when it’s pressed up against an even warmer body. It wasn’t like anything he felt before— of course he felt himself craving more. 
He broke the kiss briefly to hoist you upwards, moving his hands down to signal you to jump. Without thinking, you wrapped your legs around his slim frame instinctively. His hands that went from yours, to beneath your knees, now kept a firm grip on the plush of your thighs as the kiss deepened.
Small snippets of air was all you needed to keep going, something Scaramouche didn’t understand. Every time you pulled away for a gasp of air, his brows furrowed in judgment. Humans, he thinks to himself. Not even lust can cloud their senses. The string of saliva was all that connected your bodies. That is— if you didn’t count your hold around his neck or his now wandering hands. 
As he dove back in to resume, you felt yourself pushed against the wall— harder, somehow. The force had you groan, now feeling just how dirty the small room was. Scaramouche couldn’t give a shit, of course. Instead, he thought now was the perfect moment to trail his lips down to your neck. 
Your head lolled back, allowing him all the access he needed. He nipped and nipped— creating a pattern between sucking, biting, and kissing. Honestly, you were too dazed to care if he left a mark at this point. You let your thighs tremble in his hold, aching from both the thrill and the need. Letting your head rest against the wall entirely, you—
Bump!
Both yours and Scaramouche’s eyes widened, only to close tightly at the sudden light. He turned away from you, squinting at the brightness that came in the other direction. “What the…”
Oh, the door lifted.
“How did it—“
The Balladeer’s hands dropped from your body, retreating to his sides. You still kept a hold on him— limbs not showing any sign of letting him move freely, but you were just as perplexed as him. 
“Let go.”
“If you drop me and I break something, you better pay for—“
He rolled his eyes, forcing your legs off of him and sliding down to escape your grip around his neck. You fell, hard. Grumbling to yourself, you stood back up on your own two feet with annoyance. 
Freedom was just a foot away, yet neither of you moved an inch. Scaramouche’s eyes darted from you, to the wall behind you, catching the key to the chamber’s doors. 
Of course.
He pressed his hand against the loose brick. “Your head was right here, correct?”
“I’m pretty sure… yeah?” you answered, turning around to examine his actions. 
He slapped his forehead in agitation, laughing to himself. You were starting to catch on now, understanding what caused your escape route. 
“I can’t believe it,” he breathed, chuckling. “You were so needy, your big head somehow pushed the brick that opened the doors.” 
For once, you ignored his insult. “Then— can we get out of here before it closes again?”
His eyes darkened, returning to his menacing aura. You gulped, feeling less cocky after the predicament you found yourself in a minute prior. He pointed his index finger at you— as if he were about to order you around like one of his subordinates.
“Only if you agree to never speak of this to anyone, you got that?”
You nodded slowly, itching to get out of here and complete this mission in another few hours. “Okay… okay.”
“Good,” he started, turning his back to you. “We can finish this later, but that’ll be it.”
That was, in fact, not the last time such an encounter occurred between you both. But hey, there’s a thin line between hate and love, right? 
Surely it wouldn’t be a problem to dance on that line a little longer…
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WRIOTHESLEY (2.3k wc)
How in Teyvat does the very Duke of the Fortress of Meropide forget his keys? Better yet, how did the lock on the outside of the cell click on its own?
“This place is haunted, it’s gotta be,” you wailed, dramatically flopping yourself down on the cell’s stiff mattress. “Hey, Great ol’ Duke, I’ve got an idea for you.”
The hands that were previously fiddling with the lock on the other side of the cell came to a halt. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before darting his eyes in your direction. 
“Oh, sure. Please, tell me, what are you scheming this time?” 
“Me? Scheming? Just how little do you think of me?”
He huffed, giving his attention back to the matter at hand: getting out of this cell and far, far away from you.
“I don’t think anything of you, but I do know,” he grumbled, cursing himself for never gluing the keys to his hand. “And what I know is that you should’ve been out of here the moment your sentence ended. But instead, you thought it’d be fun to stick around and climb the ranks amongst the gardes here.”
“With ease, if you don’t mind adding that bit on.”
“I do, actually.”
“Whatever,” you whisper to yourself, staring up at the ceiling that reached so high above. By now it was a view you were sick of, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 
All you wanted to do was give Wriothesley his daily dose of torment. Instead, you wound up following him into an old cell, one that he meant to clean up before the door slammed shut, effectively locking the two of you back up. Both yours and his blood ran cold at the realization: you were trapped— together.
“This might be the worst day of my life,” he said, stone-faced. 
“You and me both, Duke.”
He slid down the wall next to the cell door, legs spread out as his head hung low in defeat. “We’re gonna be here for a while before someone gets us outta here.”
“And the thinker of the year award goes to… Wriothesley! Congrats, you figured out the obvious,” you cheered, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “I’ll get you a medal sometime soon, don’t worry.”
“Aren’t you a thoughtful one,” he deadpanned, sick to his stomach from your presence alone. 
“Aren’t I?” you mused. 
He let out a deep sigh, wishing he had someone else to keep him company right now. Sigwinnie would be his top pick, with the Traveler coming as a close second. But you? Yeah, you weren’t even last on the list of people he’d pick; not a trace of your name could even be found on it.
The goal was to tidy up some old cells, maybe a few of the bathrooms too if he was feeling up to it. Unfortunately, nothing comes according to plan for Wriothesley when you're in a three mile radius. You’ve made it your life’s goal to annoy him to bits— torture him to bits, as he thinks of it. So when he saw you making your way down the same hall as him, he tried to make a beeline out of your sight.
Key word: tried.
He tried, and failed miserably.
He pats his pockets down once again, making sure he didn’t miss his keys the last four times he checked. To no avail, there was nothing. Awesome— great, he thinks. This might be the worst mistake of his life.
“You do realize…” he began, standing back up to peer outside the strong bars. “If you hadn’t followed me around like some annoying pest— which you are, by the way— there might’ve been someone on the other side of these bars to alert someone sooner.”
You laughed at the seriousness in his voice. “You must be really deluded to think that I’d ever bother helping you out in any shape, way, or form.”
“That’d be a charge,” he informed, as if he knew every little detail in Fontaine’s code of law. “Reckless endangerment, that’s what they call it.”
“Yeah, they call it reckless endangerment. I like to call it minding my own business.”
He scoffed, crossing his arms from across the room. “It’s a miracle you’ve yet to face another trial.”
“I’m wounded,” you cried out, sitting up from the hard mattress. “To believe you’d think I’d ever commit another crime… I feel my heart breaking already.” 
The poor performance you put on was entertaining, he’d give you that much. As much as he disliked you, even he couldn’t deny the intriguing aura you carried. Would he admit it out loud? Absolutely not. But thinking of a foe’s positive trait couldn’t hurt, right? 
Maybe a little…
Staring off into nothing, you missed the moment Wriothesley treaded closer to you. Snapping out of your daze, your eyes shot up at his, shifting from a gaze to a glare in a millisecond. 
“Visiting hours are closed, come back another time— but keep in mind they’ll still be closed.” 
“Not visiting, just trying to take a seat that isn’t on a filthy floor,” he corrected, gesturing to move from the middle of the bed to the end.
“You sure you don’t need a check up from Sigwinnie?” you laughed dryly, finding humor in his train of thought. “Seriously, what makes you think I’m sharing a bed with you?”
“Don’t make it sound like that—“
“Like what?” you cut off, grinning to no one but yourself. “Like we’re sharing a bed all night? Like we’re gonna snuggle up next to each other because we’re so deprived of warmth? Oh, maybe you’re thinking it’ll end up with us—“
He lets you ramble, ignoring each word that slips from your lips; allowing his brain to replace the sound of your voice with the sound of a fly that’s been buzzing in his office all day. No longer caring about close proximity, he plopped himself down on the bed with a soft grunt. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” you sneered, shoving his annoyingly muscular frame away from you. 
“Laying down,” he said, letting his arms spread out across the bed— one of which landing behind you. “I might as well get comfortable for the time being.”
You glared down at him, feeling your eye twitch at his antics. “Well now I’m not comfortable thanks to you. I’m sure the floor would be far more welcoming, don’t you agree?” 
“I only agree with the voice in my head, wanna guess what he’s saying?” He stared blankly at the ceiling above as he spoke, starting to feel exhaustion cloud over his mind.
“Not really.”
“Too bad, I’m telling you anyway.” Moving the hand behind your figure, he pointed at his head. “He’s telling me you should shut up before I’m forced to do something about it.” 
You laughed meekly, “Well, isn’t he just a little comedian in the making.” 
“There you go. See, it wasn’t that hard, was it? I knew you were capable of saying something with an ounce of truth.”
“That was sarcasm, Duke.”
“Doesn’t change the fact you said it, so…” He sat up slowly, now plastered to your side as he stared daggers into you. “I don’t care.”
You shifted in your spot, goosebumps crawling up your skin at the room’s sudden change of mood. As much as you hated the man (for no apparent reason other than conflicting personalities, if you may add), it didn’t make you blind to his looks— body— his charm. 
Those factors only fuel your hatred, actually. 
Over the years, spoiling Wriothesley’s day has become a part of your daily routine. Every day you woke up with the same recurring thought: ‘What’ll piss him off today?’ and ‘How will he respond today?’ 
Whenever you don’t run into him, you can’t help but feel disappointed. "Maybe tomorrow,” you’d say to yourself at day’s end, thinking of all the ways you can get on his nerves later. 
You hated him so, so much. You only hated him more when he wasn’t a part of your day. 
“Getting a little close there, arentcha?” 
“You’ve yet to push me away, too,” he noted. 
You stared into your lap with an unreadable expression. “Don’t get the wrong idea or anything, you’re just a good— decent substitute for a heater.” 
He hummed, going silent for a minute or so. For once, it felt… peaceful between you two. If peaceful was even the right word, which you and him both doubted. 
Tense might be a better way to describe the atmosphere. 
“If you’d prefer a better heater…” he started, voice trailing off as he furrowed his brows at his thoughts. “I can improve myself, if you don’t mind.”
If you don’t mind? You were taken aback in confusion, unsure of what he was implying. “What are you talking about? How… how would that even work?”
His lips press into a thin line for a second, a second that you regretfully missed. When you do look at him, he’s no longer glaring at you— just staring. It was hard to make out the emotions written across his face. Unsure? Confident? Both, somehow?
He took a deep breath. “Like this,” he said before diving in.
Grayish-blue eyes shut tightly as his lips locked onto yours. Your lips parted farther in shock, giving his tongue access almost immediately. This isn’t an opportunity anyone can come by quite easily with Wriothesley— or you for that matter. Wanting those bragging rights more so than he himself, you indulged in his feverish kiss while you could.
But oh— he was right. It was so much warmer now, no longer feeling the chills you felt earlier. You hated when he was right, despised it, even. The strong feelings only escalated the kiss further, and Archons… not once did you think Wriothesley of all people would be able to turn you to mush so easily. 
Your lungs burned for oxygen, as did his. You both pulled away for a moment, staring into each other’s clouded eyes without a thought.
“I don’t mind,” you responded to his question from before. “Well— as long as you don’t mind.”
He opened his mouth to speak, only to get cut off by you pouncing on him. You were no longer at each other’s sides, turning at an awkward angle to indulge in one another. Now, you had him pinned down to the old, bare mattress, moving your lips against his with far more rhythm than before.
Kissing back, he managed to motion his wrists out of your grip, leaving you to stutter over your movements before settling your hands on either side of his chest, still straddling him. As for him, his hands didn’t hesitate to hold onto your hips. 
In all fairness, this is a pretty effective way to get each other to shut up. It kept your mouths busy, not to mention it was hot, something you never thought you’d hear yourself think regarding Wriothesley.
Your hands moved to his bi-colored locks, tugging on the gray and black strands to keep yourself grounded as his hands explored your body. You hate that you’re enjoying this as much as you are. It’d be a different story if this were anyone else— then you’d bask in the pleasure without complaint. But this is the man you swore you wanted dead for years…
Much to your dismay, that thought only added more thrill to the situation. 
The kiss was wet— messy. Every break for air was spent uncovering every little detail on his face. He has nice eyelashes, you think. His eyes also look really fucking pretty when they’re half-lidded like this. Going back in, you felt a soft squeeze on your ass, which was soon followed by Wriothesley breaking the kiss.
You looked down at him with a curious gaze, brow lifted in both annoyance and wonder. Before you could ask what’s wrong, he pushed you off him in one swift motion.
Yelping in surprise, you sharpened your glare. “The hell was that for? If you wanted to stop, you coulda just said that!” 
“Check your pocket.” he demanded, now standing up with his arms crossed over his chest.
“My pocket?” You stared at him in disbelief, a flurry of emotions sworming your brain. 
He didn’t reply, only staring you down harder than before. With no other option, you dug your hand into your back pocket, eyes widening the second you felt metal.
Right… that’s how you got into this mess in the first place.
Chuckling awkwardly, you revealed the ring of keys to Wriothesley, holding them up besides your face in embarrassment.
He didn’t move, only glaring at you even more now that you’ve been caught.
“So…” your voice dragged out, eyes trailing down to the floor. “I may or may not have stolen these from you when you weren’t looking. Y’know, before we got stuck in here. And… I may or may not have… uh, forgot? Yeah, I forgot I had these.”
You stood from the bed shamefully, planting the keys in his hand without a glance. He stood still for a moment, too baffled at the absurdity of the past— what was it? Hour? 30 minutes? 
He cleared his throat. “I think it goes without saying that I’m getting back at you for this. Later, that is.”
You nodded your head, mentally noting to avoid him at all costs for the remainder of the week— no matter how much it conflicts with your usual routine. The keys jingled from across the room, where Wriothesley was now finally unlocking the cell door.
“I’ll be on my way,” you chirped, attitude doing a complete 180. 
Before you could exit the run-down cell, someone gripped the back of your shirt.
“Not so fast,” he chuckled darkly. “You’re coming with me.”
You gulped, blood draining from your face at his words. “Oh, am I now?” you mocked quietly, not a bit of confidence to be heard in your voice for once.
“We need to pick up where we left off, don’t we? I can throw my pay back in, too.”
At least you and him have an… ethical… way of shutting each other up now…
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© fyodoro 2024. i do not permit plagiarism, translations, or reposts of my work on any platform.
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starkeyisthelastname · 9 months
Note
Stepbro or stepdad rafe teaching inexperienced reader how to make out and french kiss
I felt this more being step!bro Rafe 💕
19 years old and you still had never been kissed. You were pure (or so you thought..) and wanted it to be with someone special. Curiosity got the best of you though when you were watching a movie with Rafe and the onscreen couple began sharing a rather passionate kiss.
“What are you hiding for?” Your step-brother scoffed as he felt your face press into his bicep. “You act like you’ve never seen someone make out before? Especially with all those princess movies and shit.”
You frowned, pulling your face back slightly to look up at him. “I just don’t know how they do it.” Your bottom lip sinking into your teeth as you got bashful.
Rafe’s eyes gazed down at your pretty face, the way you were looking up at him, batting those full lashes made his cock ache. “What? Make out with someone?” He asked, incredulously, his first instinct being to grab your throat and shove his tongue down it. He controlled his urge though as you sat up on your knees, nodding your head.
“Rafey.. you are such a good teacher. Do you think you could… maybe teach me how to kiss?” You asked him, voice a little shaky. In your sweet little mind, you didn’t think about that it was wrong you were asking your step-brother for help. He helped you with so many other things, right?
Cerulean irises looked at you for a moment only to then sit up against the headboard, grabbing you by your hips. You now sat his lap, face to face with him in a much more intimate setting. “You want me to teach you how to kiss, huh?” His voice gentle as his hands ran up the thin material of the t-shirt you wore. “Come here then. Don’t be shy now.” He whispered, pulling you closer to where you sat right against his bulge.
It started off with a few small pecks to your lips, you giggling between them as it felt foreign. The way you wiggled against him from excitement and nervousness as his hands roamed further down.
“It’s all about what feels right. Yeah?” He said against your lips.
You were completely done for, your eyes hazy and head dizzy as your step-brother’s tongue slid in your mouth. A little tiny moan escaped your lips as he let you get a feel for what it was like to make out, his tongue messily playing with yours as you got more comfortable with it. You were almost getting desperate for more, as he let you suck on his tongue, your body rocking against his growing hard-on.
“One thing at a time sweetness. Otherwise, I might have to teach you how to take dick.” Rafe told you, pressing you down onto his bulge as he pulled back, your lips swollen and begging to be kissed again.
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cressidagrey · 1 month
Text
Looked to the Sky - Chapter 5
Summary: 
Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.
Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.
Warnings: 
THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!
Elain Bashing, Amren bashing, KITTENS!, Accidental Forest Burning?, Non graphic murder, Azriel is an idiot, Azriel's Mom is not having his idiocy and spends 3/4 of this chapter berating him (while being kinda a little bit unfair) and without @k-godling this would have never happened.
(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)
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Master.
Later! Azriel cut his shadows off sharply. He was somewhat busy right now.
It was harsh enough that the shadows actually shut up for once, which was startling in itself. But for the moment he didn’t think about it. Too busy with killing the leader of that Illyrian warband that had been destroying townships and temples left and right.  
It was a clean kill, fast and accurate, and Azriel didn’t blink as he watched the male’s body drop at his feet.
The adrenaline was coursing through his veins, as he slowly took in a deep shaky breath, his hands clenching around the knife handle.
Then he turned to the cleanup. The other warband members were still in the camp where they had made a temporary base. Quick, clean and efficient. That’s how they were taught to operate. It’s why Azriel was so damn good at these types of missions. 
At least two hours later, it was suddenly Rhys that was yanking at their mental connection, mental claws striking against his shields. 
Azriel swore as he felt Rhys’s talons strike against his mental shields. What’s wrong? he demanded immediately. Something must have been wrong, otherwise Rhys would have been more careful with his abilities. 
Amren cornered Eira, and Rhys spat out in answer. 
WHAT?! he demanded in answer. His shadows immediately started writhing agitatedly behind him, as panic and alarm shot through his veins.
Amren had done that? Even after Rhys had warned her off? 
Azriel should have fucking seen it coming. When Amren didn’t agree with her methods…she had her own. 
How bad? Azriel asked tonelessly. How had Eira reacted? What had Amren said?
The mental silence stretched for a moment before he felt Rhys’s presence return, the High Lord’s voice now filled with fury. As we have no idea where Eira is right now...bad. She must have winnowed in her panic to get away from Amren.
Fuck. 
Azriel was up on his feet in an instant, even as he felt his shadows swirl agitatedly around him. That…he needed to find her. He needed….
He could just imagine what Amren must have told Eira…Amren who had never learned how to soften her word and who he didn’t trust as far as he could throw her. A sinking feeling was already beginning to form in Azriel’s stomach.
Eira could have winnowed anywhere in Prythian. She could be in enemy territory right this second. He didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if Autumn Court got their hands on her, if…
She must be utterly terrified. And the thought of Eira…scared….
Panic and worry flared through his veins, as his shadows writhed even more furiously behind him. He needed to find her, find her and make sure she was safe, safe and sound and away from anything that might make her feel scared. He would not let anything hurt her. Not now, not now when he had just gotten her. 
She's in Illyria, his shadows snapped. Which we would have told you if you didn't tell us to shut up, Master!
Godsdamnit.
Azriel cursed, running a hand through his dark hair. Of course, she was in Illyria. Of all the places…Illyria. 
Azriel? Rhys questioned.
The shadows know where she is, he responded sharply. I get her.
Good. There was now a sharpness to Rhys’s voice, even through the mental link. Azriel could almost hear the order that remained unsaid. Get her and bring her home. 
And Azriel? Whatever you need to do to make sure she’s safe, Rhys said sharply. 
She will be. There was a silent promise in his voice. Azriel would ensure it. He would not let anything or anyone hurt her.
Do not let Amren anywhere near me, Azriel said evenly, his voice promising cold death. If they did, he was going to rip her apart from limb to limb. 
Agreed. We will take care of it. Rhys’s voice was as cold as Azriel’s, and the Illyrian could practically feel the anger radiating through the mental connection.
And then he let the shadows take him, let him take him wherever his mate was…
They threw him right through the wards that protected Rosehall. 
Somehow that was the most shocking thing of it all. 
The wind in lower Illyria was cold, the trees silent and still in the darkness. She hit a few trees with lightning, his shadows supplied quietly. Scorched them. No fire though.
That was not what he had wanted to hear. No fire, that was a small comfort. But the lightning? The fact that she had used her magic? It did not bode well. 
We led her to your mother. She took care of her, his shadows assured him quietly. 
That was a small comfort, but a comfort nevertheless. His mother was good at soothing, and that seemed to be exactly what his mate had needed. Especially after the panic that she must have been in. The fact that it had been triggered by Amren was an entirely different issue. Azriel would deal with that later.
Eira first. Eira was his first priority. 
The entire Hamlet seemed to be sleeping, the only sounds coming from the surrounding forest. Azriel crept in as quietly as he could, trying not to rouse the villagers. He made his way to his mother’s home, his shadows still writhing restlessly around him as they searched for Eira.
He didn’t bother to knock. Azriel just went up to the door and quietly pushed it open.
"Azriel." He froze. His mother was sitting in the living room, knitting. She fixed him with a look out of hazel eyes, and for just a moment he felt about 5 years old again. She looked towards the couch with a pointed look and he followed it.
There she was. Eira. Curled up on the couch underneath a thick woollen blanket, asleep. 
He could nearly taste the relief. 
"Don't wake her," his mother said, her voice quiet and fierce. "We'll talk in the kitchen."
Azriel nodded silently, his eyes still on the female lying on the couch.
She looked tired, exhausted. The paleness of her skin was nearly translucent in the dim lighting, making her look like porcelain. She had curled up on the couch, a woollen blanket thrown over her, hiding most of her body. And she looked so damn small. So breakable. 
It took all of his willpower not to rush to his mate, to pull her into his arms and comfort her.
Azriel had to forcibly pull his gaze away from her. Instead, he turned his eyes to his mother and the pointed, steely look she sent his way. He nodded stiffly, before making his way silently into the kitchen. 
Azriel was met with a sharp frown from her, as he walked into the kitchen.
His shadows were still writhing agitatedly behind him, while Esmeray’s dark eyes studied him in silence.
If only he could figure out what that look meant. Her eyes scanned his form, as if silently checking if he were hurt, before she let out a small sigh and gestured for him to sit.
"Is there a particular reason why you didn't tell me that you found your mate?" his mother asked him, crossing her arms.
Azriel’s eyes instantly flicked back to the open door to the living room, making sure Eira was still asleep, before he returned his eyes to his mother, meeting her intense gaze with his own.
He had to hold back a flinch. She was angry. 
“Because it just happened,” Azriel finally said, his voice as calm and flat as he could manage.
"It happened two weeks ago, according to your mate," his mother said drily. "Your mate, who I didn't know was your actual mate, and who some of my first words to were how sad it was that her twin sister wasn't mated to you!" she hissed.
Azriel winced at her words, silently cursing himself.
He really should have written his mother another letter. Or even gone to visit her. But he had been so busy with trying to wrap his own head around it that he had just…not thought about it. 
And he had also been quite sure that his mother would have thoughts about him being mated to the twin sister of the female he had waxed poetically to her about. 
How was he supposed to respond? Should he apologize for not telling her? For the fact that she had to find out from Eira? But judging by the sharp glare from his mother, any argument he made would be useless. Instead, he slumped into his chair.
“I am sorry,” he said quietly. “I…I didn’t know how to tell you.”
Esmeray’s eyes narrowed, studying her son with a look that told him she was not happy with that answer.
“I would have thought that something as important as you having found your mate would be one of the first things to come out of your mouth,” she said coldly. “Instead, I find out two weeks later, and not from you.”
He grimaced. 
"I find out from your mate after she stumbles into my living room, looking like she just came from Hel and back! After she accidentally winnowed! And killed some trees with lightning of all things! And then, THEN she cries all over my kitchen table because she has been in love with my SON  she even became fae, while she was still human but he preferred her twin sister over her. Her twin sister who is apparently a Seer has been manipulating her visions from becoming true. And then the mating bond snapped for you and instead of begging your mate on your knees for forgiveness, all she brings out is that you want to TRY!" Every word his mother said was like a sharp blow to the stomach. Azriel just stared at her, his eyes wide, as he took in the information.
His mind was spinning, as he silently took in her words and the implications of them. Eira…Eira had been in love with him before she was even Fae?
“She was…she said that she was in love with me?” he brought out in a whisper. 
"That's what you concentrate on?" his mother snapped.
Azriel snapped his mouth shut, flinching at the note of cold anger in her voice.
“No…no it’s not,” he said quickly, his hands clenching around the fabric of his pants. “It’s just-“
He didn’t know what to say. His mind was still spinning, trying to take in the fact Eira had been in love with him before the Cauldron…before…
"It's just?" his mother asked him, her voice icy.
Azriel floundered his thoughts and emotions in a spin.
“I…I just…” he swallowed nervously, his mind grasping desperately for the right words to say. “I didn’t know she…”
How was he supposed to say that he had somehow preferred Elain over Eira? That he hadn’t even seen the fact that his mate was in love with him before she became Fae?
His shadows writhed agitatedly behind him, their agitation only increasing at his distress. Esmeray, who was sitting across from him, was also watching him like a hawk. The intense look in her eyes made it clear how very close he was treading to her wrath.
“You didn’t notice?” she repeated, her eyebrows raising as she spoke. “That your own mate loved you? Are you blind?” she spat out. Azriel flinched, his hands clenching into tight fists.
“I didn’t…I never saw…”
He had really been that blind, hadn’t he? All this time he had never noticed. Not once. He had been so focused on Elain, blind to the fact Eira had been right there all along.
"That girl...that girl adores you," his mother hissed quietly. "Your shadows dote on her and she lets them touch her without even flinching once, Azriel. You can consider yourself lucky that she is even willing to give you the time of the day anymore. She had every right to ignore you for preferring her twin sister of her!"
Azriel winced again, as a silent pang of guilt shot through his heart.
He knew she was right, damn it. He knew he had absolutely no right to ask her to even give him the time of day, not after he so easily had chosen Elain over her.
“I don’t deserve her,” he whispered, his voice quiet.
"No, you don't. Not with how you have been behaving," his mother shot back. "Do you even like her or are you only courting her because she's your mate?"
Azriel flinched hard at her words.
It was like a blow to the stomach, and a dagger to the heart. Gods. Did his own mother think he was so….so callous, so heartless that he was only with Eira because she was his mate?
"I do," he said quickly, the words practically tumbling out. "I do like her."
He was terrified by the fact that his own mother even thought he would be so cruel as to be with someone he didn't care about, just because of the bond.
"Gods, I do like her, mother," Azriel repeated again, his voice firmer this time. "I…..I know I have not been treating her the way I should, and I...I know I don't deserve her. But I like her, mother. I like her and I want to be with her."
Esmeray studied her son, her eyes cold, before she let out a loud sigh and sat back in her seat.
“Good,” she said quietly, her eyes still fixated on him. “Then, what are you going to do about it? Because she deserves better, Azriel. She deserves everything, which is far more than you have given her so far.”
His mother's eyes roamed over his face, studying him like a hawk. Azriel could practically feel the weight of her gaze on his skin.
Finally, after a moment of quiet tension, Esmeray's lips flattened into a thin line, making it clear she was still displeased.  "Have you told the poor girl that you actually want to be with her? That you don't just want to be with her because of the fact that she is your mate or because of whatever vision that sister of her was trying to keep from becoming true?!”
Azriel’s heart sank, the weight of her words pressing down on him.
No, he thought, his heart twisting at the thought. Gods, he had…..he had done nothing, absolutely nothing to convince her of the fact that he actually liked her.
He looked up at his mother, his eyes weary. "No," he said quietly, "I haven’t. When the mating bond snapped...she got hurt a day later...an attempt on the life of Rhys' son...she...she threw herself into a dagger so that Nyx wouldn't be hurt," Azriel recounted, the words sticking in his throat. "Rhys tried to take the pain from her...he accidentally got thrown into her memories. And we all..realised that we had been treating Eira abhorrently," Azriel said quietly. "And then we realised what Elain had been doing, what Elain had been keeping from us."
But the knowledge that Elain had attempted to sabotage her own sister's fate, that she had been manipulating Eira's visions...Azriel went silent, his throat tightening.
"...She...It was a vision she had...of Eira and me and...and of our children," he choked out.
His children with Eira. A future that could have been, if things had been different.
His light-haired, winged little girl, ran about and dug in the dirt. 
How he wanted that. How he wanted to see them, see Eira and their little ones, surrounded by their family and friends… 
Esmeray's eyes were wide, watching her son as realization dawned in her eyes. Azriel could feel her studying him as if trying to gauge his reaction.
He just stared down at the table, his eyes fixed on the smooth surface, the images of Eira and their children of his own flashing before his eyes.
Children. There would be children.
He would have a family with Eira.
And that Elain had tried to take that from them…it made him so utterly furious. 
"When Eira was awake...I went to her and I apologised. I told her that Elain may was the pretty one but she was the kind one and that I knew that she would protect our children fiercely," Azriel said quietly. His hands clenched around the edge of the table, as he forced himself to continue. "And...and then I asked if she would let me court her. The human way, to show her that I meant it."
"You told your mate, hours of off being stabbed, that her twin sister was the pretty one?" his mother hissed.
Azriel winced again, his head hanging down.
He was going to be the biggest fool in Prythian, he was sure.
Gods, even saying it now, it sounded like the stupidest thing he could have said. Of course, it had been the wrong thing to say. Why in the world had he told his mate, who had just risked her life, that her sister was the pretty one?
His mother’s voice was cold. “Why in the name of the Mother did you think that was the right thing to say to your mate? That her twin sister, the one who has been manipulating her own vision, tried to keep your children from you, is the prettyone?"
Azriel flinched at the icy words.
He knew his words had been the wrong ones. He knew that he had said the worst thing he could have said at that moment. But in that moment, all he could think of was that he had always been so blinded by Elain. Blinded by her beauty. Blinded by a pretty face and a veneer and had never seen what lay behind it…
And then there was Eira. Just as beautiful but in a different way. Elain was immediately…blinding. Eira…she snuck up on him. Eira was beautiful but quiet. A quiet sort of realisation, like the moon rising at night, until everything was bathed in her light. 
And still…Still, he had said those words out loud. To his mate. 
"I am shocked that she even agreed to let you court her after that," his mother said with a snort. "She ought to have hit you atop the head and told you to come back to her when you were willing to actually compliment her. Besides, that's the bestyou could come up with, son?! Her twin is pretty but your mate is kind and would protect your children fiercely? Of all the characteristics, all the abilities she has, that's what you land on?!" 
Azriel winced again, clenching his jaw so hard it hurt, as his mother's words rang out in the small room. She was right. Of all the things he could’ve chosen to say, all the things that he could have pointed out, he had gone with that?
Azriel slumped down in his chair. Gods, what had he been thinking?
Esmeray watched her son for another moment, her eyes roaming over his defeated form before she let out a quiet huff. “You really are a fool, aren’t you, my son?" she said, her voice softer than before. "A total and utter fool."
Azriel closed his eyes, hanging his head down.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I am a total fool who does not deserve my mate and probably won’t until I have grovelled enough and apologized a hundred times.”
His mother let out a low hum, her eyes still fixed on him. “You certainly do not," she said darkly. “But if the girl is willing to give you a chance, even after you have acted like an imbecile of a male…you best make sure you try your hardest. And start grovelling now.”
"I am sorry, " he apologised.
His mother snorted. "You don't owe me an apology. Unless you count it for not writing to me and telling me what exactly is going on in your life," His mother said drily. "I am not angry, just disappointed."
Azriel’s stomach churned at my mother’s words.
That was even worse. Azriel flinched, looking up and meeting her icy gaze.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated again, quieter this time. “I am sorry that I have disappointed you, mother. I am sorry that I have not written.”
His mother’s eyes softened slightly at his words. “You’re my son. And I love you and am proud of you and what you have become. But I won’t have you acting like a total fool, not when that poor girl has had such a terrible life,” she said, her voice gentler than before. “You will not hurt her. You will prove to her that you want her for her, and not only because she is your mate. Is that clear?”
Azriel nodded, his throat tight.
“It’s clear,” he said quietly.
The shame and guilt twisted in his stomach, but he forced it down. He had been an idiot. A fool and an idiot, in denying not only what his heart truly desired, but also in the way he had acted towards Eira.
He wanted- Gods, he wanted her. And he wanted to prove it. Wanted to be a better male and a better mate. Wanted to earn her trust, her affection, her love.
His mother watched him for a moment, seeming to search his face, before she nodded, satisfied.
“Good. You better not keep me in the dark about your life, my son. And you better treat that girl properly from now on,” she said, her voice still stern before the soft, gentle look returned to her eyes. “And I want to see her. You bring her to dinner with you the next time you come, and I will judge for myself that you are treating her properly.”
The corners of Azriel’s mouth twitched, almost in a smile. “I will,” he promised, a little easier now. “I will bring her the next time I come.”
And he would bring her. He would bring her and his mother would see that he was trying to court Eira properly. He would prove to his mother, to his friends and even to Eira herself, that he didn’t want to be with her just because of the bond. That he wanted her. Wanted her for her.
"Now, what exactly does a human courtship even entail?" his mother asked him. “I imagine it’s not like the Illyrian way. 
No, it really wasn’t. The Illyrian way was bloody, and violent and involved more than one display of strength. 
Maybe that would have been easier for him, Azriel thought weakly. He would gladly go hunt a hundred rabbits and have the fur fashioned into a cloak…Somehow that was easier than the Human way. 
“Well…it’s traditionally the male who does the majority of the courting,” he said after a moment of pause. “He…ah…he spends time with the female, takes her out on dates to different places to get to know her, brings her gifts… that sort of thing.”
His mother’s eyes were fixed on him, studying him like a hawk. "How many times have you done that?" she asked, her voice dry. "Spent time with her, taken her out to the human way of dates, brought her gifts?"
"For the very first gift, I gave her a harp," Azriel said softly. "We had lunch together once or twice. Then I brought her flowers when we went to the symphony."
“A harp and some lunch and flowers,” his mother repeated quietly. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve done so far, to woo your mate?”
Azriel felt his face flush again, under her disapproving gaze.
“…yes,” he admitted, his head dropping down slightly.
"It's a start, I suppose," his mother said drily. “A very poor one,” she muttered under her breath.
Azriel’s cheeks flushed once again in shame, at yet another jab from his mother.
"How did you come up with a harp of all things in the first place?" his mother asked him.
"Nesta told me she used to play. Then her family fell on hard times and they had to sell it," Azriel explained.
"And you bought her a replacement harp," his mother said, a slight note of incredulity in her voice. "You didn't think that might, I don't know, bring bad memories to the surface? Remind her of the poverty she had to endure?"
He opened his mouth to respond and then froze. No. No, he hadn't even thought about that. Not once.
"She liked it," he said, slightly defensive. She had liked it...right? She had kissed his cheek, she had thanked him, she had told him that that was the most thoughtful gift anybody had ever given her.
His mother let out a small, disapproving huff.
“Of course she liked it,” she muttered. “Any gift from you she would have liked!”
At his mother’s words, Azriel’s heart sank.
Of course, Eira had liked the harp. He had given it to her, after all. He was her mate. And she was kind, to the point that she probably would have thought whatever he gave her was the greatest gift in the world.
He was being a fool again. He had given her a gift that had brought up terrible memories of her past, without ever thinking of the consequences.
“And how did you even have a lunch with her?” his mother asked, shaking him out of his thoughts. “Did you...did you go into the city to dine with her at some restaurant?”
His cheeks flamed again, his head dropping lower at his mother’s questions.
“No,” he muttered. “We had lunch at the River House with everybody else.”
He could feel his mother’s disapproval without her even saying anything. He didn't even need to look at her face to know the disappointment that would be on it at his answer.
“You ate lunch with her in front of the entire Inner Circle,” his mother stated, her words blunt. “And you thought that counted as a date?”
Her question made Azriel wince, because when she said it out loud like that...it sounded so obvious. "We did go to the symphony with Cassian and Nesta," he defended himself.
His mother let out a sceptical huff.
“Because there is nothing more romantic than sitting around in silence for 3 hours!” his mother snapped. “Have you ever had a proper conversation with her, Azriel?! What are her hobbies?" his mother asked with a sigh. "Can you even tell me that?"
"She's a seamstress, like you," he answered quietly. "She takes commissions from the alterations tailor in Velaris to make some money, and she makes dresses for her sisters. She also likes to bake and cook and she gardens for vegetables.”
"Are that her actual hobbies, or just the chores she prefers to do?" his mother asked him drily. Azriel winced at his mother's words, because...gods, were those Eira's actual hobbies, or just the chores she preferred to do?
His mind reeled at the thought. He knew she took commissions, and he knew she cooked and gardened, but was that what she preferred to do? Or was it simply just chores? Chores that he had never thought to ask to learn if those were what she truly enjoyed?
Was it just what she had done at the cottage? And then continued in the Night Court for lack of other options? 
That—gods, that possibility chilled Azriel to the bone and made him feel so ashamed. Had he never even bothered to ask her what she liked to do, aside from what she had done to help her family?
His mother let out another small huff, reading his expression. "You never asked her, did you? You never even bothered to ask if those were her hobbies, or if those were just things she had done out of necessity?”
"She embroiders the things she makes. That's not out of necessity, right?" he asked weakly.
His mother studied his face for a moment, her expression stern as though she was seeing right through him before she finally sighed.
“No, I suppose not,” she conceded after a little while. “And do you know what her favourite colour is?”
Azriel froze at his mother’s unexpected question.
Her...her favourite colour?  He was stunned into silence, the realization that he didn’t even know as simple a thing as Eira’s favourite colour suddenly hitting him like a punch to the gut. 
“You don’t know her favourite colour, do you?” his mother said, her voice flat. It was more of a statement than a question.
Azriel winced, his silence an answer.
Gods, what kind of mate was he? He hadn’t even bothered to ask any simple questions, like what her hobbies were, or what her favourite colour was. Even something as basic as what her favourite food was, or her favourite time of day, or her favourite place in all of Velaris…he had never bothered to ask her any of those simple, basic questions. He had only assumed. 
"You don’t know your own mate’s favourite colour. You don't know what her actual hobbies are. You just know what she did to help her family when she was human. And you took her to the symphony without asking her if she even liked that sort of thing, without even asking her when you are supposed to talk to her and spend time with her and get to know her,” his mother said, her words biting. “Are you even trying to court her?"
The words struck Azriel like a dagger to the heart.
He had truly botched the entire thing, hadn’t he? He had botched every single part of courting her. He hadn’t asked her any questions at all. Not her favourite colour, or her favourite food, or her favourite time of day, or her favourite damn colour. He had taken her to the symphony, to a place she might not even have even liked, had assumed that she would just be fine and would still like it, and he hadn’t even thought of asking if there was anywhere better to take her.
“That was the most pathetic attempt at trying to woo your mate,” his mother said in a low grumble. “That wasn’t attempting to court her. That was you assuming what she might like, rather than asking her what she would actually be interested in doing. And you never even bothered to ask her if she actually enjoyed the times you spent together!”
Azriel closed his eyes as the words stung.
That...that was all true, wasn’t it? He had never thought to ask her a thing. He had just assumed, assumed, assumed, without ever making the attempt to check with her to see if she enjoyed herself or not.
He was an idiot. A stupid, careless, thoughtless idiot.
"You'll do better," his mother demanded.
Azriel nodded, his head hanging down.
He would. He had to. Or he wouldn’t be worthy of being her mate.
He was going to ask her everything about herself. Everything he didn’t even know. He would ask her what her hobbies were, and what her favourite colour was, and what her favourite food was…
He would ask, and he would get to know Eira. 
Azriel. Feyre's mental touch and he let her in without a second thought. How is my sister?
Azriel's eyes closed as he felt Feyre’s presence in his mind, and he almost winced at her words.
She...is well enough. She is resting right now.
The silence that followed the mental communication stretched for only a moment, but to Azriel, it felt like an eternity of waiting, as Feyre pondered his words.
Amren...Amren said...some things to her... Feyre’s words came again, her voice laced with anxious worry even in his mind.
Azriel’s jaw clenched.
Damn it. Of course, Amren had said something to Eira. And of course whatever Amren had said...whatever things she had said…had hurt Eira.
Where did you find her?
My mother's house. The shadows brought here there
She’s at your mother’s house...? Feyre’s question came after a moment, her tone even more surprised and bewildered than it had been before.
We are coming, Rhys said softly into his mind.
His mother stared at him for a moment. "Rhys and Feyre are on their way," Azriel said quietly.
Azriel intercepted them at the door, keeping his voice quiet. Feyre was looking extremely anxious and Rhys’ face was taut with worry.
“Thank the Mother you’ve found her,” Feyre said first, rushing over to him, her eyes already darting around, looking for any sight of Eira.
They found her, still unmoving on the couch. Deep asleep.
Azriel could see both Rhys’s and Feyre’s shoulders visibly relax when they saw that Eira was asleep. But Azriel could tell from his high lord and lady’s eyes that they were both still worried.
“Is she…?” Feyre asked quietly, looking up at him with a worried frown. “Is she alright?”
Azriel stared down at Eira’s sleeping form, his chest aching at the sight.
"She's magically exhausted," his mother said calmly. "Rhysand."
The sound of his mother’s voice drew Rhys’s attention, and the High Lord raised his eyes to glance at her, a small smile on his face
"Esmeray," he responded, leaning down to hug her.
Azriel watched silently as his mother and the High Lord embraced each other, while Feyre continued to look between the two of them and Eira.
"You came quickly," his mother said to Rhys, pulling away from his embrace to look him in the eye.
"Of course," Rhys said quietly. "You wouldn’t be telling us our sister is here and expect us to take our time getting here, would you?"
“You know very well that I wouldn’t,” his mother said, her tone dry. “Now come. And don’t you two look at her like that. She is not harmed, nor wounded. She’s simply exhausted.”
"She was just hurt weeks ago," Feyre said quietly. "Badly hurt. She's still supposed to take it easy."
Azriel felt his muscles tense at Feyre’s words. The reminder…Azriel’s hands curled into fists as he remembered seeing Eira bleeding, bleeding profusely from the wound in her side. At seeing her grey skin…her laboured breathing…
You look...murderous, Rhys said into his mind
Murderous was too weak of a word, considering that Azriel wanted to personally hunt down and kill the fae that had dared to harm his mate again. He wanted to be murderous.
Ma had words with me. I fucked up, he admitted.
Rhys was studying him, his eyes sharp like he was reading every emotion in his head. But Azriel could see the slight sympathy in his gaze.
I’ll bet, Rhys said with a sigh. Your mother is brutal at times when she needs to be.
Brutal was an accurate word to use. Azriel had certainly felt the full brunt of his mother’s wrath. Still, he deserved it. He deserved every word she had said. And he would do better.
"Eira?" Feyre said suddenly, kneeling at her sister's side and Azriel's head snapped up to find her move slightly, a whimper coming from her lips.
Azriel held his breath as he watched Eira. Even exhausted as she was, she still looked so fragile, so soft. He wanted to go to her. He wanted to hold her, to reassure her that she was safe, to brush her long curls away from her face. But he kept still.
Feyre let out a soft gasp, reaching out to hold her sister’s shoulder, her touch gentle, as Eira’s head turned to the side, her eyes opening slightly.
"Eira," Feyre repeated quietly, gently squeezing her sister’s shoulder. "Can you sit up?"
Azriel watched as Eira slowly opened her eyes the rest of the way, her brows furrowing as she struggled to focus her eyes in the dim light.
"Fey..." she began weakly, her voice cracking as she struggled to sit up."I am sorry, Feyre," she whispered, wetting her bloodless lips.
Azriel’s heart ached as Eira struggled to sit up, and his hands fisted at his sides as he watched Feyre put a hand on Eira’s back to give her some support.
"No, you are not apologizing for anything," Feyre said firmly, shaking her head as Eira continued to struggle to move. "You have nothing to apologize for."
"I didn't help you. I should have helped you. You were the youngest," Eira disagreed, her voice so weak. "I am sorry."
Azriel’s heart broke at Eira’s weak words, and his chest ached as though he wasn’t able to breathe.
Feyre’s hand continued to support her sister as Eira struggled to speak, until finally, Feyre spoke up before her sister could say anything else.
“You did nothing wrong, Eira,” Feyre insisted, her voice firm. “You did help. Yes, I hunted, but you cooked the meat. You did the laundry. You planted potatoes and carrots and sold whatever you canned and had left over. You made sure we had clothing to wear. You helped, Eira," she promised her.
But Eira’s eyes were still wide and miserable, filled with guilt and shame.
“It wasn’t enough,” Eira whispered. “I wasn’t enough.”
“You were enough,” Feyre promised her. “You did enough. You did the best you could. You did nothing wrong.”
"I don't want to be a weapon."
Azriel’s throat closed at Eira’s words, and Feyre’s eyes squeezed shut, her entire body going stiff even as she held back a sob.
“You are not a weapon,” Feyre said fiercely as she held her sister close. “You are not a weapon, do you hear me?”
"You will never need to be," Rhys said softly, placing a hand on Eira's hair. "It's alright. We won't make you be a weapon or a soldier or anything you don't want to be."
"All you ever have to be is our sister," Feyre continued in a slightly choked voice, stroking her sister's hair. "That is all you have to be. You do not have to fight or defend or be a warrior or anything like that. You don't. I promise you that you don't."
“Let's get you home," she said softly. "Let's go home, Eira."
Feyre began to pull Eira up from the couch, and Azriel moved instantly to offer support, going to Eira’s other side to help Feyre pull her older sister to her feet.
Her grey eyes blinked, seemingly suddenly realising that he was there. "Azriel," she whispered.
Azriel’s heart raced as Eira finally turned to look properly at him, and his heart twisted at the sight. She was pale. So pale. And she looked so fragile and exhausted, her eyes hollow. But it was her voice that nearly broke his heart — the way she had said his name. So softly. So quietly.
A demanding meow broke that moment, a white kitten clinging to Eira's legs.
Azriel’s jaw slackened briefly in surprise, as did Feyre, as they both looked down to see the little white kitten clinging to Eira’s legs.
From behind him, Azriel could hear Rhys’s stifled laughter.
His mother laughed out loud, clearly amused as she leant down to scoop up the wayward kitten. "It seems like she got quite attached to you," his mother said quietly. "You should let Azriel bring you back soon to play with her."
Eira’s grey eyes widened as his mother told her that — though whether it was from surprise or exhaustion, Azriel couldn’t tell.
“I…I would like that,” she said softly, her voice rough, and her words lit up something in Azriel’s chest. Something…warm.
Azriel’s mother gave Eira a long look, her head tilting.
“You are welcome. It is my honour and pleasure to get to know the young woman that my son has taken as a mate,” she said softly. 
He was saved from having to respond by a shudder working through Eira's body.
Azriel’s eyes darted back down to Eira as he felt the shudder that went through her and he frowned in worry, his arm around her shoulders instinctively pulling her closer to him.
She was cold, he could feel it even through her clothes, her entire body like ice as she shivered in his arms.
"We should get going," Rhys said apologetically. "Thank you, Esmeray."
"You should come visit more often," Esmeray said drily. "And remind my son of actually keeping up with his correspondence for once."
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I've been wanting to request this ask for a long time now, and I think it's too cute not to send in.
May I request MC playing a scary video game with Idia and get so scared that they hug him in surprise?
Idia Shroud:
Idia didn’t play games for the sake of others often.
He never imagined that someone would get enjoyment out of watching him play let alone you, the person who he desired to have close to him at all times (which is a lot for an introvert). He almost thought you were just toying with him when you brought up the game, just seeing if he had heard of it and if it was worth your time to play. He never expected you to come knocking at his door late into the night, almost having a heart attack as he pulled you into his room and hoped no other Ignihyde member had caught sight of you.
“It’s better to play scary games in the dark, right?” You held up the game with a smile on your face, Idia’s heart having no chance to recover from your first attack. “Come on, you’re not scared, right~?”
Your teasing tone, while not like others who might think a nerd like him couldn’t handle a game full of jump scares and purposely poor graphics, was still egging him on and it was a challenge he couldn’t deny. Not when you were the one issuing it.
You eagerly pulled a seat closer to him and he inched over to make room, trying to steady his breathing as you were barely an inch away from him. He wasn’t used to anyone being in his space like this and it made his fingers twitchy, hitting wrong keys as he tried to optimize the playing experience by messing around in the settings. You don’t seem to notice, reading the back of the game case with a smile on your face; it seemed you were genuinely excited to watch him play.
When the game finally starts up an eerie tune fills the room, and you quickly locked on to the computer screen. Your shoulder brushed against his and he tensed, finger gripping his mouse like his life depended on it. You’re observing every little detail of the opening cutscene as Idia can’t stop stealing glances at you, your face only visible from the glow of the screen yet remaining just as beautiful as it always was.
The story is established, some stupid teens going into a forbidden place haunted by a legend that had hints of an unavoidable supernatural truth. They brazenly wanted to explore the seemingly empty woods only highlighted by the moon, hoping to finally put the violent spirit to rest. The gameplay is basic, with Idia having little fear of making himself look like a fool in front of you. Not that you would notice, as you seemed completely enraptured by the story, eyes darting everywhere as you try to figure out where the ghost will approach from first.
The first jump scare is loud and jarring, annoying to Idia who had seen it coming a mile away and almost sighed from how basic it was. He would’ve complained if it wasn’t for the way you had jumped nearly ten feet in the air, grabbing onto his arm that was closest to you. Were you scared? No way, right? Idia glanced at you and saw your face was half-hidden behind his arm which you held in front of you like a shield, unwilling to completely look away but still trying to protect yourself.
Idia wanted to scream. How cute could you be?!
This game would be the death of him, but not for the reason you might assume.
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corollaservant · 5 months
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oh noooo kinks post is gone 😭😭
buddy, you lurkin? this was up for an hour 😳 jk jk—this was filthy, made me feel like i was too disgusting on the internet or shadowbanned. anyways yk what? here you go (cause it was fun to write) <3
(18+) MHA kinks (shiggy, overhaul, dabi)
cw: coercion/gaslighting, edging (lol?), s/m, asphyxiation(implied), kai's mysophobia (the correct term is microphobia but anyways)
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Shigaraki: i think he’s into gaslighting and coercion and ik the latter doesn’t classify as a kink (more like an offense) but hear me out:
he brought you to that miserable bar the LoV hangs out in and can’t stop touching you, while you’re forced to sit on his lap. you love public, right? well, no and he knows. whether the LoV watches or not doesn't matter, he wants to see your attitude change, once you can't hide the fact he's fucking you over fabric anymore. his cock twitches, when he stops and you silently beg with your eyes. he'll tell you that he thought you didn't like this while you’ll apologize for even thinking that.
when alone, he’ll have you sprawled on the bed, parting your legs and asking you which you prefer, his fingers or tongue. you’ll brokenly breathe out a “fingers, please” as he’ll sneer and..oblige. he’s clearly skilled, his fingertips tease your cunt as if he’s strumming close chords on a guitar and fuck—you look pretty as shit watching him push them inside. ‘’so you’re saying that you don't like my tongue, yeah?’’ he’ll feign sorrow, you never said that but he makes you reflect on it. ‘’you know what i think? i think you’ll like my tongue just fine’’ he’ll tell you and start sucking on the swelled nub as you tremble. ‘’actually.. you’ll like it more’’
once you shamelessly cum on his tongue exhausted, he’ll continue. ‘’ready for the main event?’’ he’ll ask as you beg him to at least wait a second, you ache down there but he obviously doesn’t care. ‘’there’s no time to wait..come on baby, you know it feels better the second time around.’’ he’ll tell you as his tip splits your folds. you ultimately consider that he might be right after all. actually, he’s never wrong.
Overhaul: this man has an edging kink.. before you say anything, it’s not what you think.
he’ll have you on that examination table (not too heavy on his medical kink tho), mask and gloves on, of course what did you think? that he’d make an exception? the fact he’s even touching you is enough boundaries crossed for him. his gloved hand will spread your juices across your pussy, as he winces behind the bird mask. he hates dirt, bodily fluids, liquids, any bodily emission/discharge, call it whatever you want. the moment he senses your pulse and legs jerking, he’ll remove his hand in fear you might cum on his gloves. you’ll whimper upset but he doesn’t really care, you should thank him for allowing you this proximity in the first place.
same with sex. condoms with him is like the concept of gravity — self fucking explanatory. sometimes he’ll even use two. don’t get him wrong, it’s not like you are the problem, it’s more like your body, he feels like he purifies you each time he thrusts calculated in your cunt (he's delusional). he likes you being vocal as long as you don’t accidentally spit on him, which will earn you a slap.
to prove that the issue is not you, the man will not allow himself to cum inside you, even with the (2) condoms on. he just prefers transmitting the ‘filth’ directly onto you, which means he’ll have you pump his cock and receive all his load (wherever it lands, he makes sure it's angled towards you). 
he's a weirdo of course, but he makes up for it in aftercare. he sterilizes you like there’s no tomorrow. if you’re lucky and you make him cum quick and clean, he might offer a cup of tea and your favorite snack. 
Dabi: sadomasochism. i’ve seen both variations separately done for him before — i just think he’s both.
obviously he’s more into the first (sadism). will treat you like a potato sack, lifting you up without asking, throwing (literally throwing) you to the bed, not caring about where you’ll land and ripping/burning the fabric that clings onto you. assaults your cunt—spits on it and slaps the clit with his hands (sometimes too hard, it makes you cry).
facefucks you the minute you get a hold of his cock, he doesn’t even give you a second, he will grab your head and move it to an unforgiving pace. definitely a cheek slapper — needs to feel his dick in your gums from outside. he might pinch your nose shut and leave you with no airway to..survive. but it’s ok, you make it out alive.
has ropes and recently bought a leash and a collar. it’s red with a black handle and he uses it each time you talk too much. might get bored just holding the handle as he needs to touch (bruise) you, so he’ll hang it to the bed’s end and just pull at the steel. shoots his cum inside only when you're loud enough to make his ears ring. (rip neighbors, they're already considering moving out after they called the cops on him and he almost fried them)
until..
the thing is.. Dabi lives in the past, he doesn’t share his life with anyone so how is he supposed to not dwell on it by himself? has a lot of inflicted pain he can’t share but subconsciously craves. the first time you take liberty in causing him pain ever so little is accidental. you are on top, he’s setting the pace, sure, but your weight falls on his face as your arms enclose his neck. you’re not trying, hell, you don’t even know how to choke someone properly (why would you?) but you need to hold on to something and you think you’re imagining it when you hear a very soft moan. no, you’re definitely imagining it. it will cross your mind later on.
after that, you try to experiment in the territory, you’re in missionary and he thrusts inside you while you bring his neck close and squeeze again. this time you deliberately apply pressure as he hisses a fuck so.. you slap him. it’s a light, small smack on his cheek, again, you don’t want to piss him off but he groans, this time louder and you grin. you might end up slapping him harder the more the sex progresses, the staples hurt your knuckles but he’s making desperate (sexy) sounds.
he’s not gonna be descriptive since he is waay too embarrassed (you will never hear a ‘’shit, i love it when you cause me pain, babe’’) but you don’t care, his expressions tell you everything you need to know.
the next time you’re on top and test the waters, you grab the leash and collar from the nightstand and raise a brow. that’s how most of the communication flows, with mute understanding. he’ll huff in annoyance while his hips involuntarily buck up and he’ll mutter: ‘’shit, whatever.. get this over with.’’ (i hc he calls you bro when embarrassed lol) breath already hitched as you adjust the buckle to his neck. safe to say you’re more than proud to see him fall apart, even if tears never spill from his eyes. 
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anakinsdove · 4 months
Text
𝐘𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 «𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐»
pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!padawan!reader
summary: Your master is horny and frustrated, he looks for release at a nasty gloryhole in coruscant... only to find out that that perfect pussy he's fucking belongs to his padawan.
c/w: gloryhole mentions, p in v, masturbation, power imbalance, blowjobs, good pounding (very nasty idgf im sorry im horny)
discord - twitter: anakinsdove. -PART 1-
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𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 。゚゚・。・゚゚。 ゚。Love you
𝘄/𝗰: 3,231
1 week ago
He does look lovely standing there, he’s talking to master mundi and master kenobi, broad shoulders and a serious expression on his face, but you know it’s all a facade, the minute you two are alone again he’ll go for a round of twister and maybe if you’re lucky pizza and movie night… he’s like no other Jedi, and you wouldn’t want it any other way, he’s unorthodox, impulsive and he can get under people’s skin easily.
He has a charm you haven’t seen anywhere else in the galaxy in your entire life, but you don’t know many things, he added a little bit of color in your life, he has thaught you things and to see life in a different way, he’s naturally good at everything he does… it’s insane.
“Whatcha thinking about?” You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t see him move next to you
“You” you say simply and he chuckles
“You’re still impressed by that move? I told you Y/N it all about the wrist” your eyes sparkle at the memory of him tearing droids apart in your previous mission, only a few hours ago
“No, not that-” “Be right back, I have to give the council a report of our mission” he ruffles your hair and leaves
Your eyes follow him until he dissapears in a crowd and you sigh, attachment is forbidden, but how can you not get attached to Anakin Skywalker? there are many rules you’d break for him, he’s your master and it’s wrong, but still… you can’t help but think of him late at night when you touch yourself, your fingers rub tight little circles on your clit as you try not to give in sleep and you can’t help but mutter “Anakin…”
You’d ruin everything for him, You’d give him everything you are, everything you have… and it kills yourself to think he might not want it.
But you’re wrong
Because Anakin Skywalker is utterly and obsessed with you, he wants nothing more than to bend you over and stuff you so good with his cock, that’s his ultimate fantasy, but he must not give into his instincts, Until…
Present day
His arms wrap around your waist in the darkness… you shouldn’t have done that, does he hate you now? Is he disappointed? Does he not love you anymore? That thought is unbearable.
“Calm down, I can feel the anxiety dripping from you” “I’m sorry….” “No, You’re not” And he’s right, why should you be sorry for? For him filling you up tonight? For giving him the best orgasm of his life… you, his padawan.
“I don’t want you to be sorry Y/n” you turn around and your pretty eyes look up at his silhouette, even his shadow is beautiful “Why not?”
His fingers squeeze your waist experimentally and you can’t help but sigh, his touch relives a deep ache in your heart and possibly between your legs.
“Was I the first man to fuck you tonight?” His voice is low and dangerous and you nod stupid “Because I saw you with your legs spread and in display for everyone, If I arrived 2 minutes later someone else would’ve ended up fucking you, didn’t you think of that when you chose to fuck up with my mind?”
You feel like crying and he sees your eyes water, you’ve humiliated yourself and he doesn’t want you, you have betrayed his trust…. “No master… p-please I’m sorry…” he wipes your tears away with his thumbs “I said I don’t want you to be sorry… I want to fuck you again and this time I want you to watch” your breathe heaves and he kisses your forehead reassuringly “I’m just surprised that’s all… I didn’t know you had it in you…” his fingers unbuttoned your shirt swiftly and he removes it, the sight of your cleave is doing more for him than it should “Can I fuck you? Can I do it again this time because I want to?” You nod desperately and he turns you around pushing you against your clothing drawer… he turns on your pretty table lamp and your eyes fixate on the picture over the drawer, it’s a picture from last summer, anakin and you smiling as he carries you… an innocent moment so far of what you’re doing right now.
He spreads your legs and pushes into your lower back signaling to arch your back deeper, you hear fabric breaking and you know your panties are gone forever “Holy shit…” you look over your shoulder to see his expression lust and hungriness written all over his face “My cum is still dripping out of you… it’s dripping down your thighs” you look down and confirm what he says, his cum has been dripping down your thighs since the walk back to the temple… he spits over his fingers and you scrunched your eyes shut when he wraps his arm over your front and rubs your clit deliciously “And so fucking wet” “Master!” You cry out louder than intended and you hear him smirk, his hips move with abandon against your ass, he grinds his painfully hard cock over you bare skin, you don’t understand why his pants are still on…
“All you needed to do was ask… I would’ve fucked you so long ago if I knew you wanted me as much as I wanted you” his fingers move faster and your brain turns off “What-“ “Fucking brat- you dont even want to know how many times I had to stroke my cock to the most unsatisfactory orgasm, when all I had to do was going to your quarters late at night and take you, don’t you want your master to feel good?” He moans against your ear, his confession fueling your desire as it drags you closer to the edge, you move your hips back against him and he growls, he wants to be the one in control.
“Fuck me please- fuck me I can’t take it anymore” you practically mewl when his fingers dip inside your creamy cunt, come hitter motion hitting your spongy spot deliciously, this is worth every consequence this could have in the future. “You’re going to take what I fucking give you, nothing less and nothing more my padawan, understand?” He says with a condescending tone and gives a kiss to your ear
Anakin underestimated his own arousal because he feels like cumming in his pants right now, his breathing is heavy and his eyes close… then he removes his fingers from your cunt leaving you empty.
“No!” You cry out and he has to shut you up, he dips his fingers inside your mouth making you taste yourself “I know it tastes heavenly love, I fucking know it” your eyes roll back into your head at his dirty words, you’re soaked by now.
He pulls away and sits on the edge of your bed pulling you into his lap, his fingers squeezing your breasts over your bra when he says “What do you know about sucking cock sweetheart?” Is he serious right now? He took your virginity only a couple hours ago! it also makes you giggle because of his vulgar words.
“Nothing” you say honestly and he nods “Good” already pushing you to the ground and on your knees, his fingers unzip his pants desperately tugging them down with his boxers too, his cock slapped against his lower stomach… it looks painfully hard and begging for your touch.. you practically zone out looking at it and you can’t help but be amazed that it even fitted inside you, this is your first time seeing it, ironically.
“I’ve dreamt about fucking this little mouth” he says breathlessly and his thumb traces your lower lip as you look at him with a pouty look… “I’ll guide you through it okay?” “Please…” he smirks at this, he knows how whiny you can be, so having you under control brings him satisfaction as your master.
“Spit on it- good good… now w-wrap your hand around my- Fuck!” He hissed as you stroke him inexpertly but still feels so good, it’s probably because it’s you, everything feels good with you, it makes him curl his toes “I thought you didn’t know anything about this.. Ah fuck…” he closes his eyes as he gives into the pleasure for a brief moment and opening them again when you mutter an unexpected confession “I gave a handjob once…” “To whom?!” He says offended but has to close his eyes again as you milk him his own precum and your spit making the nicest lube, you look at his cock with some sorry of fascination at the slimy sounds its making “L-“ “Don’t fucking tell me” he hisses and pushes your head down “Now suck on it sweetheart nice and slow…” you give the head a little kiss and kitten lick the shaft slowly… nice and slow and you can clearly see his abs constricting due the pleasure “It’s only right im the one who teaches you this” his voice is husky and it holds so much lust and you roll your eyes at his cockiness “Your master had to be the one to teach you how to blow someone Y/n… but most important I’m teaching you how to please me” his words are doing something to you and you can’t help yourself but to grind against his boot that he previously angled for you to rub yourself against it… you moan around him and he needs more.
“Just a little bit more sweetness, you kitten licking my tip feels amazing but your master needs you to take a little bit more okay?” You nod clumsily and his fingers tangle in your locks pushing you a little lower so you can take him deeper, your inexperience shows when you choke around his cock… if you only knew how good that felt, his breath heaved as he mutters a strangled “Good girl- good girl, you’re making your master feel so good” his praise sends shivers down your spine and he carefully thrusts up, hips moving up slowly as you furrow your eyebrows in concentration but you choke again “Ah.. fuck, nice and slow love… nice and slow take your time, I’m don’t going to hurt you”
He moans and groans as your lips wrap around him nice and tight, you’re mouth is warm and it feels perfect, just like everything about you, his thrusts speed only a little bit “Do- do you remember that time where I let you skip training because you wanted to go out to the mall?” You nod… that’s the only thing you can do when you’re this cock drunk… your eyes close and you let him move your head up and down as he pleases “I was a good master, I did a favor for you yeah?” Your eyes water as his cock hits the back of your throat “Now I need you to be a good padawan and let me fuck your mouth, okay?” You whimper around him and he groans… nodding desperately he smirks “tap my leg if it gets too much and breathe through your nose” he holds your hair in a ponytail and starts thrusting nice and hard up your mouth, his tip bruising the back of your throat, your whimpers and moans are muffled by his cock as it makes you choke, you look up at him and his eyes are closed mouth agape as he moans… your own desires can’t be ignored as you keep grinding against his boot… the best way to describe this feeling is euphoria, you can’t even hear your own thoughts because they’re overpowered by the pleasure sounds your master is making and the disgusting sounds your mouth is making… your bringing him close to ecstasy.
“Shit!” He cries out and you realize breathing is no longer important in this situation, you want to please him and that the only thing that matters, he holds your head down as your nose rubs against his pubes, your own eyes rolling back “Yes yes yes yes yes” anakin is too far gone in the pleasure, his eyes roll back as a bead of sweat falls from his forehead, he growls and pushes his boot harder onto you clit “I’m gonna- Fuck im sorry I can’t help it!” You want to protest but it’s too late, his hot cum is already filling your throat. “That’s a g-good g-good… f-fucking girl- ah! My padawan” he spasms and finally lets go of your head… his cock pulsates inside your mouth and your release him and you see him shake… his breathing is heavy and he sees the tears streaming down your cheeks… he smiles, like a genuine smile that shows love and appreciation
“Thank you Y/n… oh shit that was amazing” you beam at his praise as usual, he really knows how to push your buttons.
“Master I want to cum” you pout at him, he has been teasing you but not actually giving you what you need and crave “What have I taught you about patience?” “That is overrated” he curses himself and takes you into his arms laying you down on the bed. “Fine… I’m going to fuck you” he rolls his eyes as if it was annoyed to do such task and you tickle his ribs at his teasing… he laughs and loses strength as he falls on top of you… you look up at him, you’ve never been this close before, his eyes are piercing into your soul… Anakin closes the gap and for the first time he kisses you… he moans into the kiss, it feels so right and your lips don’t move for half a second… he holds your cheek delicately and you kiss him back with as much love and desire as him.
“I can’t believe it took me so long to do that” he whispers and you give him your brightest smile “alright ass up” you giggle and he bops your nose and slides a pillow under your hips for a better angle “How do you want it love? Nice and slow or… master I can’t walk I might need to skip training today?” He mocks your voice and you give him an unamused look, if he can tease you you can also tease him.
Your legs wrap around his waist and you pull him closer “alright I get it… spread your legs for me” you do as he says and he taps his cock over your clit repeatedly, you can’t help but throw your head back, it’s so sensitive by all his previous teasing it makes you whine “I know you want it sweetheart, its just, you look so good when you’re needy” “if I knew my master was this cruel if would’ve gone to master kenobi instead” his eyes widen and his brows furrows “No” you expected him to laugh but it angers him “You’re mine, no one else’s” he positions your legs over his shoulders and slides in… your soaked cunt is pulling him in and your tightness pushes him out.. he chuckles when you shudder under him “So- fucking big” your eyes furrow prettily and your eyes roll back as he fills you up for the second time tonight “Yeah? You’re so fucking tight” his hips moves against you nice and slow, you feel every bit of him, your gummy walls massage his tip, he moans and hides his face on the crook of your neck…
Your gasps and moans are music to his ears, the prettiest a sound in the galaxy, unfortunately his noises are muffled by your skin but you want to hear him cry out… maybe another time… he groans and nips at your skin sucking and marking you “You feel so good inside me master… you fill me up so good, no one could make me feel like you do” his eyes shut tight as your words struck a nerve, you feel his hips falter as he loses his rhythm… you giggle but soon his thrusts become forceful as he hits your g spot with precision
“Shit!” “language” he teases and chuckles against your skin, you pull his locks painfully tight as he hisses “You like it? You like how deep I’m inside you? This time I’m able to look at your pretty face” he kisses you once again, your legs hold him tightly not giving him much space to move and fuck you harder, it’s your fault he has to be harsher and manhandle you
Your velvety walls constrict around his cock and he pulsates and pulsates, he feels his balls tighten… his cock kisses you cervix again and you cry out as you attempt to push him away “I know it hurts… don’t worry I’m going to take care of you” your arms tangle over his neck as your nails dig into his back and scratch, leaving little moon shaped marks all over his skin, he changes the angle and pounds you deeper, you didn’t know it was possible… this time his pubes rub deliciously over your clit “you’re not fooling anyone love, you like it rough, you like it nasty and even dangerous, showing yourself to everyone in a nasty gloryhole in coruscant, why would you put yourself in that situation baby? Huh? You liked the smell of sex and everyone having sex around you? Is that it? You’re as much of a pervert as I am, because if you’d come to me sooner I would’ve fucked you in your comfy bed like the pillow princess you are”
“Master!” You near your release and he’s been holding his for about 5 minutes now, he trembles over you but he can’t stop, he needs to please you “You’re gonna cum sweetheart? I need you to cum, you been milking your master’s cock the entire night it’s only right I make you cum too”
Your cries fill the room and your eyes roll back, it’s a sight for sore eyes “Thank your master Y/n, thank your master for fucking this creamy pussy”
“Thankyouthankyou-“ you moan incoherently “I’m going to fill you up sweetheart- what a good little p-padawan” your climax hits the both of you like a bus… making you grind against each other tiredly as your moans die down eventually, only heavy breathing is heard…
When you both grow quiet and only the sounds of an average late night at coruscant fill the atmosphere you wrap your arms around him, you’ve never seen anakin this tired before, he always has enough energy for a battle but seems like pussy is his weakness, you clench around him involuntarily and he whimpers
“Thank your Y/n this was… fuck it was”
“Me? Thank you for being a pervert” you beam and kiss his forehead “it was truly amazing… thank you master” he chuckles
“Me? A pervert? You’re a nympho princess, after everything I’ve taught you in all these years the only thing it stuck you was my cock” you roll your eyes at his comment
“Now you know how Master Kenobi feels” but then you think a little bit more about your comparison and you cringe anakin laughs against your skin
“You’re lucky you’re beautiful”
You smile brightly at him “youre pretty”
“Only pretty? C’mon sweetheart I want to be beautiful”
“Fine.. you’re beautiful” he gives your neck a little kiss
“Can you sleep here tonight?” You nod “Great because you leaving means I’d have to pull out”
“Don’t mention it, you’re my best friend!” Anakin gives you an angry look even though he knows he’s joking, he wants to be more than that, and actually he already is… And with a kiss he shuts you up…
masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.
dividers - @i92-93
(Hello! I want to credit @anakinsbbgirl for inspiring this stories, she’s insane and I love her)
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