#it’s not easy at all and not everyone thinks they should be doing it but he’s so proud of it
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Hello. I have this idea of a Charles and Wolff reader where they’re happy but some crazy merc fan or a mugger somewhat loses it on her and injures her and everyone figures it out a bit late and they’re scared and something full of angst and cute moments later?
A/N: Oooooo love this just be mindful of the warnings below
WARNINGS: ASSUALT AND STALKING YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED
You could tell something was off.
Being Toto Wolff's daughter, you were used to a certain level of staring or being even being noticed, but this was different, the feeling of being watched. It was like a sniper was zoned in on you, anytime you moved the eyes followed you.
Maybe it was a reporter, your mind tried to reason, but you knew this wasn't right. It wasn't the normal, and you didn't see a single camera or phone in the restaurant. "You, okay?" Jumping out of your skin, you give Bono a weary smile. "Of course, just tired and miss Charles," Bono hums, knowing your boyfriend was at a different restaurant celebrating with his team.
"Do you want to go home, sugar, you can." Your father smiles, placing a comforting arm on your shoulder. The hair on the back of your neck stands as your head whips around, but no one is staring or much less paying attention to your table. "I'm going crazy," You whisper, Toto hums, but you wave him off. "Nothing, Papa. I'm going to head back to my hotel room, okay?" You whisper in German, Toto smiling and kissing your cheek.
"Text me when you get there safely, and Charles as well," Nodding you stand on shaking legs as you push through the craziness and out into the cool spring air. Taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart. Making the walk back, you feel that buzzing and cold dread settle into your skin.
Looking back just a little bit you see a shadow moving behind you. Whipping back around you speed up but you hear the feet behind you grow louder. Taking a turn you start to run, but yelp when large hands pull you back. A scream is ripped from your throat, bag lying in the street as feel kicks and punches land all over your body.
"Traitorous whore!" The person spits, and kicks you one last time, vision growing fuzzy, you see them walk away as your eyes close.
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"Toto, I'm sure she's fine. Her and Charles are probably, having some quiet time." Bono tries to reason, but Toto shakes his head no. "Charles just had a video posted by fans of him talking to them outside. He's not with her, something isn't right." Toto throws the doors open as he takes the walk back to the hotel. Bono grumbles but follows as he swears nothing is wrong.
Making the turn, Toto comes to a hault, seeing your purse lying on the ground. "No, Y/N? SUGAR?" Toto screams, as he rushes around looking for you. Getting to the alleyway, Toto feels his heart stop, as he sees your crumbled body. "NO!"
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Charles wanted to cry, he wanted to scream. He wanted to see your eyes as you lie in the bed beaten and bloody. "How did no one notice?" Charles whispers, running his fingers over your skin, voice tight and cold. "We're sorry, we thought she was back at the hotel with you," Bono whispers, but Charles scuffs.
A groan passes your lips which has Charles springing up and looking down at you. "Hey, hey take it easy," You smile hearing that warm caramel voice of Charles. "Hey?" You whisper and Charles leans down, humming as you smile a little wider. "Should take up boxing," Charles groans bumping your heads which has you giggle but then groan in pain.
"Fuck the boxing, we're going american style and getting you a gun," Charles whispers, which has a wet laugh pass your lips. "Maybe Leo can become an attack dog," You joke, just not wanting to think about what happened. Charles giggles, kissing your lips and smiling down at you, "He already terrorizes our ankles, anyone will run from that." Charles joins you, knowing this helped you.
"Hey, they found the guy, some pyscho ass fan. Been arrested," Bono whispers, popping his head in. "Thanks Bono," Charles whispers and traces soft patterns on your arms knowing it calms you. "When can I go home?" Charles smiles, placing one last kiss on your lips. "In two days, then we can just eat ice cream," You smile and kiss him back.
"Not, your ice cream though, I need some real shit," Charles gasps, and you giggle as you see the betrayal on his face. "Excuse you, I'd have you know my ice cream is real," You snort but make a face of pain as it caused your ribs to hurt.
"Okay, maybe one thing of it," Charles shakes his head as your face turns somber and eyes heavy. "I love you," Charles smiles, "I love you,"
#f1#formula 1#f1 fandom#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x y/n#f1 scenario#f1 angst#tw: stalking#tw: assault#f1 blurb#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc angst#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 x you#cl16 one shot#cl16 x y/n
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loving is easy (it didn’t used to be) ft. wriothesley
in which a familiar face brings wriothesley to a dark place, a place from where only you can pull him out. you always find a way to staunch the flow of blood from his broken knuckles, one delicate kiss at a time
contains: 2.7k word count ; female reader ; spoilers for wrio’s backstory and quest—briefly touches briefly on murder and child exploitation and trafficking ; mentions of blood and injuries (pankration rank) ; reverse comfort ; established relationship ; angst with a lot of fluff too ; this is slightly a character study of wrio i suppose
“—thesley, stop—wriothesley! you need to stop!”
“your grace, that’s enough!”
one voice calls out to him after the other. slowly. one by one. they register in his ears after being muffled for so long, after only the sound of his own voice rang in his head for so long.
more. he can take more. again. give him another. one more. don’t stop. another punch. punch. don’t stop punching. just keep punching.
he can hear the words repeating in his head as he lands a fist one after the other to the swollen, bloodied face under him.
finally, he stops—he doesn’t have a choice. his shoulders are grabbed, strong sets of multiple hands holding his arms back before his knuckles can make another precise landing to their target.
typically, wriothesley doesn’t participate in pankration rank matches very often. the place is entirely reserved for him to use after hours, when his boxing gloves can come out and a punching bag can take the brunt of his hits.
it’s better that way. it’s less likely to cause injury of inmates, it’s an effective method to get rid of his pent up frustrations through the day, and it’s a wonderful way to exercise and get in a work out.
today, however, he can’t wait that long. the thought of waiting until everyone’s off to their quarters to sleep, until the rank is his alone in the dead of night, until hours have passed and he’s had to suffer simmering in his thoughts is not something he thinks he handle today.
today, on a rare whim, wriothesley decides to join a match himself. he’s done so before—and in all fairness, it’s never exactly turned out poorly. sure, he wins a bit too easily, and, of course, the inmates are typically too nervous to really give him a proper fight. but it’s not the first time, he joined.
but right now, as his senses return to him, as the guards pry his body off the opponent he’s pinned to the ground, as your concerned gasp rings in echoes through his ears and sigewinne’s shocked face quickly approaches the unconscious and bloody figure crumpled on the floor, he thinks this might just be his last match.
“wriothesley,” you whisper, voice shaky and disbelieving, “what in teyvat has gotten into you?”
he stares down at his fists.
blood.
so, so much blood. just like that day—just like that cursed day. his hands shake as they ball into tight fists, nails digging into the meat of his palms. the pain feels good, he faintly registers. it feels like something, anything against the numbness he’s starting feel spread across his entire body.
he’s fairly certain the only reason he’s standing upright anymore is because the guards are there to stabilize his body.
“someone should take him to the infirmary,” you set your shoulders back, a firm tone taking over your voice as you decide to handle the clear poorly tamed situation. you gesture at the limp form on the floor, making guards nod as they rush over and lift the body. “sigewinne, will you be able to take care of him?”
“of course,” she nods, quickly following after the guards as they leave.
wriothesley’s not fit to do anything but stare off in a trance for the moment. you’ll tackle that issue in a bit—first, you turn to the surrounding crowd, voice strict as you say, “everyone is to leave the rank. now.”
inmates at the fortress know better than to question you. at times, they even wonder if you have more authority over wriothesley than he does himself over the entire fortress. they quickly file out of the room, hushed murmurs between them all that you pay no mind to.
what do you reckon has gotten into his grace?
you think that guy’ll be alright?
it’s a good thing i didn’t participate today.
me too.
you catch the faint words every now and then as all the bodies quickly empty out of the rank, leaving you, your boyfriend, and the few guards still holding him upright.
“my lady,” a guard quickly walks up to you, urgently handing you a first aid kit as she adds, “the head nurse has requested for this to be delivered to you.”
“thank you,” you murmur softly, taking the kit in your hands before smiling at the guards that slowly but surely let go of wriothesley’s arms, letting him stumble over until he stops just before your figure.
his eyes are still so distant, so hollow.
“we’ll be off,” one of the guards nods, “we’ll leave his grace to you.”
“of course,” you return the gesture, watching as they slowly exit too, leaving you and the duke to yourselves.
you look at him in concern. he doesn’t meet your eyes, focusing on the blood stains on the floor not too far away.
“baby,” you say gently. delicately. like approaching a small, caged animal as you carefully reach a hand over. he doesn’t pull away, but he stiffens as your hand cups his cheek, “you should sit down. i’ll just clean your hands, okay?”
“i…”
“c’mon,” you guide him by the wrist, slow steps that he follows, completely silent, completely resigned to letting you pull him along as he blindly follows.
you softly push him to sit on a bench at the side, grabbing a hand and slowly setting to work. he doesn’t even let out his usual exaggerated hiss when the sting meets his broken skin as you disinfect it with a cloth.
“i didn’t mean to,” he says quietly after some time, overwhelming guilt coating his words. “i don’t…i can’t figure out what came over me.”
“i know you didn’t,” you reassure, pausing when his eyes stare up at you unsure. “you’d never mean to hurt anyone.”
his face tells you he doesn’t believe you—don’t you know what got him sent here in the first place? how could you say that so confidently when you know his past?
he scoffs bitterly, looking away as he mutters, “yeah, sure.”
“so you meant to hurt that guy?” you raise a brow, making his lips curl into a frown as he pauses, contemplating your words before slumping in defeat and glumly shaking his head.
“no,” he mumbles lowly, voice hardly audible if you weren’t so close, so intent on hearing him.
“okay, what’s on your mind, baby?” you press a sweet kiss to his forehead. his hand is still in yours, cleaned and bandaged now as your thumbs trace over the tough, dried calluses of his palms. “talk to me.”
“nothing,” he says gruffly, not meeting your eyes as you look at him and sigh.
“i’d believe you sooner if you told me you were trying to kill that guy,” you reply—you think you might immediately regret the choice of words as soon as he flinches.
kill.
was he trying to kill the man? it certainly feels like he might’ve been. he didn’t mean to lose control like that, he’d never purposely hurt an inmate in such a manner. but one taunt turned to two, and it’s easy for the cocky opponent of his to get under his skin—something that’s so unusual, so unlike wriothesley.
he can’t remember the last time someone’s, let alone an inmate’s words mattered to him. someone apart from you, perhaps sigewinne.
“you haven’t been yourself since the newest prisoner,” you note, voice taking on a careful lilt as you brush back sweaty strands of hair from his forehead, pressing a lingering kiss to the skin.
he closes his eyes, letting out a stuttering breath.
“what makes you say that?”
it’s a deflection—wriothesley is certain you’ll see through him, but it doesn’t stop him from avoiding the heart of the matter nonetheless. he doesn’t look at you, opting to stare down at the bandaged knuckles of his hands, imagining the blood that was just there moments ago.
he’s familiar with blood on his hands. this wouldn’t be the first time, and he’s certain it won’t be the last. he wonders why he was destined at such a young age to always feel the thick, crimson liquid coat his skin. why he of all people is cursed to feel the warmth of life spill across his knuckles and turn cold.
wriothesley doesn’t even blink, doesn’t even register your hands covering his own, squeezing as gently as possible so you don’t disrupt the sore skin under the cotton.
“wriothesley,” you call, hands moving to cup his cheeks, “it’s okay, i promise.”
i’m here now. you can trust me. i won’t betray you. i won’t let anyone betray you.
that’s what you mean—he can hear the words hidden under the ones you speak, whispering to him like echoes that speak over the calls of his childhood.
they’re enough to make him bury his face into your shirt, inhaling the scent of you to try and forget the wretched scent of blood. he’s so tired of blood.
“that new inmate,” he starts, voice hoarse, croaking so weakly, your hand cups the back of his head to bring him closer, “he was my older brother. when i was a kid.”
wriothesley’s childhood is not foreign to you. you’d read the files before you came down to the fortress for work, and even after your relationship shifts from colleagues to lovers, he tells you. the version that’s seen from the haunted eyes of a little boy forced into the reality of a man. the version that doesn’t speak through the codes of law, but the horrors of a child with no way out. the version that makes wriothesley human, not a criminal.
he doesn’t speak of his siblings, not often anyway. too many of them left before him, before he could have known they needed to be free. he doesn’t know what happened to them, and you think he might never want to know. the ones he set free have lives of their own, he tells you. he took it upon himself to find out, just to be certain.
just to know they’re safe.
you’re sure this recent prisoner must be the first of his older siblings that he’s ever come across past his youth.
“he doesn’t recognize me,” he whispers, fingers hooking into your shirt as he grips you, “i can tell.”
“do you want him to?”
“no,” he admits, “i don’t…he doesn’t know me as wriothesley. maybe that’s for the best—i don’t think knowing it’s me would be very good for him.”
“i’m sure he misses you,” you soothe your fingers through his hair, raking your nails across his scalp as he shivers at the tenderness of your touch. “just like you missed him.”
tenderness has never come to him without a price. his mother’s gentle hands and his father’s kind words all came at the expectation of mora. mora through his mind and body as though it were theirs to sell away like he was nothing. a mere commodity to come by and own rather than a child to love and nurture.
your tenderness comes without a price. without so much as an expectation for the affection in return. your love comes because it wants to, because loving him is the price you earn, not the price you pay.
“i’m too different now,” he says quietly, “i can’t be what he needs. not as a brother—i was too late.”
“too late for what?” you scoff, pulling his face from your shirt much to his disapproval. the soft flesh of his cheeks spill over your palms as you squeeze them together, forcing his head to tilt up and meet your gaze. “too late to what? to setting him free? you were a child.”
“i know,” he sighs, fluttering his eyes closed once more as your thumb strokes the scar under his eye. “we all were.”
wriothesley hates this scar in particular. it’s right under his eye, the first place he glances to when he looks at his own reflection. he can’t even assure his hair isn’t unruly without being reminded of the unfairness life has handed to him—but you love it. he thinks you must, with the way you kiss it so often. feel it under your delicate thumb. look at it so fondly. trace it with your index finger when you think he’s sleeping.
you love such ugly parts of him, he wonders if he’s ugly at all. if maybe he’s just bent, waiting for your hands to come gently mold him to be smooth, undamaged.
but you never try to fix him. instead, you try to love him for all the dents and scratches that he is, unwilling to change him despite all the flaws that stick out like a sore thumb.
that must be what love his, he realizes one day. not spilling blood on your hands for the sake of the ones you love, not leaving them behind so they won’t be tainted by your sins, not pretending they don’t exist so they can be free from being of reminded the horrors that cling to you.
love is you, when you look straight into his terrible, shriveled heart, stomped on and shattered over and over, collecting the shards in awe. loving each piece no matter how tiny, no matter how difficult to hold onto. love is choosing not to put them back together in a cracked, messy version of what it once was, choosing to file away and soften the sharp edges slowly, even as it makes your fingers bleed. love is keeping him close, even when he stands so far, walking extra steps even when your heels and calves ache from closing the distance he puts between you.
love is so easy to you, he wonders why it’s been so difficult the rest of his life. how can something seem so effortless now, after it took blood and tears from his for so long before?
he doesn’t know. but he doesn’t want to return to those dark, wretched days. his mothers hands weren’t kind, they didn’t hold him, didn’t protect him like they should have. his father’s eyes didn’t hold light, they never glowed at the sight of him, never shed a tear for his sake. and his siblings—oh how he once loved his siblings, how he considered himself so lucky, so gifted to run among them with his tiny, innocent feet.
but that’s gone now. those days are over. he no longer uses that cursed name he once answered so gleefully. he’s wriothesley now—duke. administrator. warden. your lover.
he’s fine with just that.
“what’s he here for?” you ask after some time, breaking the comfortable silence as he stays buried into your embrace.
“murder. just like me—the family he was sold to.”
“he’ll be okay,” you hum, trailing your hand to find his back, rubbing up and down the planes of his muscles through his shirt. “i’m sure of it.”
“how can you be so sure?” he asks disbelievingly, “i was at my lowest after my sentence.”
“you didn’t have an administrator as capable as you,” you point out. “he’ll be okay. he has you—whether it’s as his brother or as wriothesley. it’s up to you. either is more than enough.”
“you think so?” he looks up, pressing a kiss to the pad of your thumb as you trace his curled lips.
you nod, grinning gently as you say, “of course. when have i ever been wrong?”
“i suppose never,” he chuckles—his knuckles feel lighter now, as they mold to fit over your hips, holding your waist securely as if he holds his whole world.
he does. he doesn’t tell you, but he does.
“you have an injured inmate you owe an apology to, by the way,” you remind him, laughing as he pouts into your hand, laying his cheek further against your palm.
“i’m injured too,” he protests, “it’ll have to wait until i’m healed.”
you raise a brow, giving him an amused look. “and where exactly are you injured, your grace?”
he holds his hands out to you, the evidence of your tender love and care evident through the careful bandaging. but he’s selfish. because you let him be.
so he asks for more, in a simple plead of, “i need to be kissed better. please?”
you shake your head and laugh as he bats his lashes, but you don’t dare deny him. never saying no to more love, never running out of the affection he doesn’t know if he quite deserves.
“will it allow you a speedy recovery?”
“most definitely,” he confirms, nodding in all seriousness.
“fine then,” you snort. you kiss his knuckles, one press of your feather-light lips at a time.
the haunting feeling of blood goes away—all that’s left is the easy, simple feeling of being loved.
i headcanon that wrio recognizes an inmate when they’re new a bit after he becomes warden as one of the older children he was adopted with and spirals for a few days because their crimes are so similar to his but as an adult. and he mourns that he was too little back then to set the children before him free. and i wish i could tell you why all of my hcs about wrio are so depressing but he’s more fun to write that way bc then he’s that much more in love with reader when she comes into the picture ;)
#writing tag#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x you#wriothesley fluff#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin fluff#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact fluff
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four — just a little
mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader
⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to.
when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 1.8k
content. profanity, alcohol consumption, a lil bit of tension???
booger: r u up?
It’s 4 AM and you should not, in fact, be up. But you are. And apparently so is Sukuna.
You contemplate ignoring him. You can get back to him in the morning and act all high and mighty like, “I’m a proper human being with a life, so no, I don’t stay up until 4 AM like you, loser.” It’s not like anything good has ever come from you replying to his late-night/early-morning texts. You recall another time you replied to him at this hour; the two of you ended up almost getting arrested after sneaking into a reservoir.
Alas, you’re still up and you’ve been rotting your brain on your phone for hours, so your better judgment has gone the way of your last few brain cells.
you: what do u want
You watch as he types something. “Damn, so hostile,” probably. He deletes it. Then, he types again. “Why are you up?” maybe. Deletes it. Then, “Wanna fuck?” before he remembers who you are. He types again and actually sends the message this time.
booger: be there in 5
Part of you wants to prank him. Go to sleep and let the poor guy pound on your door until one of your neighbors—probably the grumpy old lady who lives beside you—scolds him and threatens to call security. It’s a good prank. You go as far as thinking about it.
When gets there, he’s got his hood pulled over his head. He’s wearing a pair of sweatpants, black sunglasses, and a serious expression on his face.
“Damn, you look so cool,” you say. He cracks a grin and you crack up. “What the fuck are you doing? You look ridiculous.”
His face falls into a frown as he steps into your apartment, closing the door behind him. You’ve already left him behind, crashing onto your couch as he changes his shoes into one of the slippers you keep for him by your door.
“You’re a real bitch, you know,” he says. He sheds the sunglasses and pulls his hood away. You’ve ruined the whole vibe he was going for. “Aren’t you gonna offer me a drink or something?”
You lift your head and point at the console table by the door. “There’s a bottle of Cuervo there,” you tell him. “Get it for me.”
He huffs but does as you say anyway. He picks the bottle up and walks over to you, sitting on the floor in front of the couch. “You’re a shitty host,” he says as he opens the bottle.
“You’re an intruder,” you say, snatching the bottle away from him before he takes a sip. You raise it to your lips to take a swig. “Why are you here?”
“Am I not allowed to see my girlfriend?”
You choke on the tequila. “What?” You cough as he laughs and pats your back. “Don’t say shit like that.”
He grabs the bottle from you and chugs a good amount. “I love teasing you,” he says, pinching your cheek. “It’s so easy.”
You slap his hand away and sit up. “I hate you.”
He just grins and passes you the bottle. “You love me,” he chirps. “Wouldn’t put up with me otherwise.”
“Haven’t you heard? Everyone’s saying I’m incapable of love.”
You don’t know why you say that. It’s not part of the script, the usual back and forth between the two of you. For a moment, you worry that you’ve said something wrong.
“Who says that?” He looks serious now. Like he’s about to beat someone up. You know, the usual. What were you even worried about? “You got a gun for me to use on them?”
You laugh at his dour expression. It’s true, of course, that people have been spreading this new rumor that you’re a cold, ruthless bitch who doesn’t have room in her heart for someone, let alone a boyfriend. It’s why you broke up with Satoru apparently. You know it’s stupid and people don’t really know what they’re talking about, that they’re bored and just making shit up, but for some reason, you can’t shake the thought.
What if they’re right?
You put the Cuervo on the floor beside Sukuna and hug a throw pillow to your chest. “I had a dream.”
“Is this where you break into song?”
You roll your eyes at him. “I’m not talking to you anymore.”
He doesn’t take the challenge lightly, immediately hopping onto the couch beside you and dropping his head onto your lap to stare up at you. He bats his lashes at you and says, “What did you dream about?”
You place your hand on his face. Then, you feel something wet on your palm.
His fucking tongue.
“You’re so gross,” you whine, wiping your hand on his hoodie. “What do girls even see in you?”
He smirks. You’ve just given him an opportunity and you wholly regret it now. “It’s not so much what they see, but how big it is,” he says, amused by the disgusted face you make. He pokes your cheek with his finger now. “Tell me about your dream.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
He pouts, his lower lip jutting out as he looks at you with big eyes, practically getting teary-eyed now. He’s a great actor, you’ll give him that. He’d probably get better grades if he was a theater major.
“I wanna know,” he says softly. “Tell me.”
There’s something about the way he looks at you that feels unnervingly familiar. You’re used to his antics, you’ve had to deal with them since the two of you were in high school, but it’s moments like this that you remember just how much you know each other. It’s a constant thing, always lurking beneath your banter and jokes—it just surprises you when it’s in your face.
You place your hand on his shoulder and sigh. “It’s stupid,” you say. “I just keep having these dreams where I’m running from something. Different things every time. Zombies, ghosts, clowns—”
“You run away from clowns?”
“Clowns with murderous intentions.”
“Okay. Valid.”
You shake your head, smiling now as the teasing reminds you of who you’re talking to. It’s just Sukuna.
“Anyway,” you say as you stare off into your empty living room. “I just… run. And I get to a point where I feel safe until I realize that I’ve actually been cornered. I wake up before anything happens.”
When you look at him again, his brows are furrowed, already in deep thought. He considers your dream carefully. You wonder if he’ll crack another joke, change the tone of the conversation, but of course he doesn’t.
“What do you think it means?”
You squeeze the throw pillow beside you. “I don’t know,” you say. “I should probably ask Nobara. Psych majors know all about that shit, right?”
He nods. “Yeah, they got that Freud dude.”
“I’m not sure that Freud dude is necessarily accurate about dreams.”
“You never know until you try.”
The two of you are quiet for a moment. You can hear the air conditioner buzz, the fridge rumble. You’ve gotten used to these sounds of silence, what with you being more alone than you’ve been in a while. This time though, you can hear Sukuna’s breathing. Quiet, but steady, a reminder that you’re not completely alone this time.
“Is that why you’re still up?” he asks eventually. “You can’t sleep?”
“You’re making fun of me.”
“I’m not.” Earnest. Sincere. “I just wanted to know.”
You look at him skeptically, but he just stares up at you from his place on your lap, blinking in the light of your living room.
“I mean, it’s not just the dreams,” you tell him. “I’ve been feeling a little lonely, you know. Since… Satoru.”
He cringes at the name but schools his expression before it turns into a full on snarl. “Still don’t know what you saw in that guy.”
“He was good to me,” you say. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“He must’ve if you broke up with him.”
You hesitate, but you find it in yourself to insist, “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Sukuna stands up. “If you say so,” he says. He reaches his hand out in front of you. “Come on. You gotta sleep.”
You stare at his hand. “You don’t think you’re taking me to bed, do you?”
“I am taking you to bed.”
He stays there for a moment, watching you watch his hand, unmoving. “I’m not getting in bed with you. Chill, bro.”
A beat.
“It’s not that,” you say, taking his hand and letting him pull you up. “It’s just…”
He raises a brow. “What?”
Yeah. What?
“Nothing,” you whisper. This is stupid. “You can sleep beside me. It’s fine.”
It’s his turn to be taken aback. Suddenly, he thinks that your hand being in his feels terribly comfortable. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say, pulling your hand away. You pad over to your bedroom, walking straight ahead without looking back. Pretending like you don’t care if he follows. “We’ve slept in the same bed before. It’s no big deal.”
But it is. Somehow, you feel like it is.
You’re already under your blanket when he follows you into the room. He stands at the foot of the bed a little awkwardly. Like a lost puppy.
“When was the last time you slept in the same bed as a girl you didn’t fuck?”
He’s sheepish now, stripped of all his usual brazen demeanor. “A long time.”
His hand reaches for the hem of his hoodie.
“What are you doing?” you ask, eyes wide. “This isn’t—”
“Relax,” he says, pulling the hoodie off his head. He’s wearing a t-shirt underneath. Plain red, one you’ve probably seen more times than you can count. “I just run warm is all.”
You feel your face heat up. What did you think he was doing?
Your best friend slides into bed beside you. This isn’t anything strange for the two of you. You used to sleep over at each other’s houses back when you were in high school and one of you wanted to avoid the chaos of your home. You’ve slept beside each other before. It was never a thing.
But it’s been a while since then. You’re no longer the kids you were, all playful and shameless.
It feels different this time. Somehow.
He’s keeping his distance and you can feel it. Your body is turned away from him, but you can feel his eyes on you. He wants to be closer to you.
You want to be closer to him too.
“You can—”
His chest hits your back as he rolls over to lie directly behind you. “Is this okay?” he asks quietly. You can feel his breath on your neck.
You swallow. “Yeah, it’s okay.”
You feel his hand carefully move around your waist. He doesn’t touch you, his arm hovering just above the thin fabric of your top. “Is this—”
“Yeah.”
He rests his arm on your waist and you feel yourself relax into his touch. He wasn’t lying when he said he runs hot, it feels like you’re melting against a furnace. Still, somehow, you can’t find it in yourself to mind.
If anything, you might just admit that you like it. Maybe. Just a little.
notes. soooo the besties are doing a thing 👀 how do we feel about reader and sukuna so far 👀 we also haven't seen much of gojo yet but next chapter is gonna be interesting ;)
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Post-Injury Hurt/Comfort Series - Monster Trio
Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji
Reader: GN
Word Count: 3.3k
CW: blood, gore, graphic depictions of injury, stitches
Ao3 Link
After writing The Break, I've always wanted to do drabbles of the same scenario for other characters, so here we are. ( 0v0)/
Luffy
It happens in an instant. One moment, you’ve brought your mace down on the head of the lion Zoan, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. You collapse next to his body, exhausted from the fight.
The next moment, the lion Zoan lunges at you from the floor, one massive paw smashing into your face with all the strength of their devil fruit, sickle claws tearing your flesh open.
You go flying. You hit the ground hard, leaving a smear of blood from your body skidding. Dazed, you try and get your bearings, berating yourself for letting your guard down early, praying it didn’t cost you the fight. The lion Zoan snarls and charges you.
“Gum-Gum Whip!”
The sight of your captain intercepting your opponent brings a heavy relief–if Luffy’s finished with his own opponent, that means your part is done, too. You can finally catch your breath.
With the rest comes the dull, burning pain across your face. The enemy mostly got you in the nose and mouth, miraculously missing your eyes. Blood runs from your nose and mouth and drips from your chin, bleeding as heavily as a head wound. Still, you’re not too concerned. It’s only when the rest of the crew catches up to you and you try to talk that you realize how much damage the lion did, because not only does speaking hurt, but Nami makes a face at the sight of you.
The local anesthetic that Chopper gives you helps a little bit, but it still hurts when he realigns your nose and stitches up the gashes. Luffy holds your hand the entire time, knowing you hate needles.
“Good job, Y/n!” Luffy says after Chopper’s done. “You’re real tough!”
“Thanks, Captain.” You sigh. “I would have been fine if I hit him again, but I thought he was down. I forgot how resilient Zoans can be.”
“You didn’t want to kill him.”
“I know, I shouldn’t take these fights so lightly–”
“Y/n, that’s a good thing.” Luffy stretches an arm around your shoulder. “You’re a good person. Besides, I was able to take him out easily because of the damage you did.”
“Nami looked horrified when she saw my face,” you say. “I must look like a mess.”
“You do,” Luffy says honestly, making you smile–which pulls on your stitches.
“Owww, oh…smiling hurts.”
“Then don’t smile!”
“I can’t help it. You make me smile. You know this.”
Luffy rubs his chin, eyes rolling up as he thinks. “Then I should stay away from you.”
“Nooo, don’t do that! I need you around to cheer me up! Especially now.” You take his hand that’s hanging around your shoulder, feeling your chest lighten when he squeezes back.
“Well, in that case, I’ll just not make you smile!” he says.
“I don’t think that’s possible.” You chuckle, then look at the mirror hanging on the wall. If you need to lower your mood, there’s an easy shortcut–the combination of your inflamed, swollen skin, plus the stitches make you look nothing short of monstrous.
Luffy notices your face falling. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s going to scar. And not even in a cool way.” Living with severe facial scarring probably won’t be that bad–you are a pirate, after all–but it’ll still be new. And, to be honest, you’re not ready for your appearance to change so dramatically.
“What are you talking about? It’ll be super cool!” Luffy says earnestly. “Everyone will know what a strong pirate you are!”
He’s trying to cheer you up. You don’t want to bring him down in the dumps with you, but you can’t help but be bummed out.
“But what if I don’t want to look cool?” you say. “What if I just want to look like me? I mean, who could possibly find a face like this appealing?” You ghost your fingers over the stitches on your lips. “Who would kiss lips like mine?”
You think you’re holding it in okay, but the admission has you tearing up. You’re being ridiculous–you should be happy to be alive. But why did it have to be your face? Why…
Luffy stares at you in that way he does when he’s thinking. You can’t tell what’s going through his mind.
It happens in an instant.
One moment you’re sitting next to each other in silence. The next moment, he wraps his other arm around you, pulls you in close, and lightly presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss.
It hurts a little, but it also feels so good that your tears break free and sting where they roll over your cuts.
“Did that hurt? I’m sorry, Y/n,” Luffy says when he pulls away.
“No, no! It was nice! It was really nice.” You have to fight not to smile.
“Oh, good! I liked it too!” he giggles, looking overjoyed.
“When I heal up, will you do that again?”
“I can do it right now!” Luffy says eagerly, but you clear your throat and tilt your head toward the doorway.
Chopper is standing there, little hooves on his hips, thoroughly unimpressed with the both of you and your method of boosting morale.
Zoro
Zoro was always one to downplay his injuries. Next to Chopper, you gave him the most trouble for it out of anyone in the crew. He figured that so long as he got medical attention, the extent of the injuries was no big deal.
He never expected to be on the receiving end.
In the heat of battle, he’s entirely focused on his opponent. This enemy crew is tough, but not the strongest they’ve faced. Strong enough to demand his full concentration.
However, Zoro knows the unique sound of a sword cutting through flesh. When he hears the shhk! noise behind him and remembers you’re also fighting a sword user, he’s so badly distracted he almost gets hit. He has just enough presence of mind to finish off his enemy before turning around.
That’s when he sees you fire a bullet into your opponent’s leg, your free arm wrapped around your stomach. There’s blood seeping between your fingers. In the time it takes him to rush to your side, you shoot your opponent again in the other leg, making him crumple, then once in each arm, rendering him completely unable to fight back from where he lays.
“Yo,” you say casually, but you’re trembling all over. Your torn shirt is staining quickly.
“You got cut,” Zoro states. He tries to pull your arm away so he can see your wound better, but you step back.
“I’m okay,” you say. You and Zoro both look down at your abdomen as you pull your arm away just slightly, and Zoro sees the unmistakable grayish-pink of your large intestine before you quickly plug up the gash with your arm again. You look back up at him. “It’s just a scratch.”
Zoro’s about ready to stab you himself, his eyes going wide with horror and rage.
“Are you insane?!” he shouts. “A scratch?! Shit, where’s Chopper–?!”
“Ha ha–ow ow ow, hurts to laugh.” You grin, but Zoro notices you tearing up from the pain.
“Okay, just, stay still,” his hands are held up hesitantly, unsure of what to do, and he calls over his shoulder. “CHOPPER! Get over here right now!”
Once Chopper arrives, he applies an emergency field dressing and instructs Zoro on how to safely carry you back to the ship’s infirmary. You act like you’re in high spirits the entire way there, smiling up at Zoro like everything’s fucking dandy.
“This is kinda nice,” you say. “I haven’t been carried since I was little.”
“After you heal,” Zoro says, “I’ll carry you around as much as you want, okay?”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” he says gently. “Does it hurt?”
“Of course not,” you say, and Zoro curses himself for having asked–he can see you wince with every harsh step he tries to avoid.
“We’re almost there. Almost there.”
“Relax, big guy. I’ve been through worse.”
You haven’t. He’s been in every major fight you’ve been through, and it’s never been this bad. Your blood is still warm on his skin, and your color’s getting paler, and it’s all because he couldn’t protect you.
The surgery takes longer than he thought. He’s pacing the hallway outside the infirmary so much that even Sanji starts to make a comment, which would have started a fight had Robin not intervened and sternly told them both that everyone was worried.
When you come to, it’s to the sight of Zoro standing over your bed. You don’t manage so much as a ‘yo’ before Zoro gets onto his hands and knees, bowing so low his head touches the floor.
“I’ll never let it happen again!” he says, minding his volume–Chopper is only allowing him to visit because Zoro promised he wouldn’t stress you out. “It’s my fault! I’m sorry–”
“Get up.”
He peers up at you. Your face is twisted up like you’re holding something back, but you force it into a sneer.
“Get up right now, or I’m going to make fun of you,” you say. He hesitates long enough for you to roll your eyes. “Don’t be a pussy.”
That brings him right back to his feet. “What’d you call me?!”
“You heard me,” you say. “I’m alive, aren’t I? So relax.”
“I can’t relax!” Zoro snaps. “You got hurt because of me! I was too weak! I couldn’t–couldn’t stop this from happening!”
“Whatever.”
“Whatever?!” He no longer minds his volume. “How can you be so–so calm about this?!”
“How can you be making this about yourself?”
That shuts him up real quick. Realizing his mistake, Zoro starts to get a sour feeling in his stomach, but you only smile.
“Now you know what it feels like,” you chuckle and wince, “ow–what it feels like to have someone be dismissive of your injuries. So the next time you get hurt, you big dumb idiot, how about you have some self awareness and let me worry?”
Zoro deflates a little. “I still can’t just forgive myself like that.”
“I’ll do it for you.” You hold out your hand until he takes it. “Roronoa Zoro, I forgive you–so long as you do one thing for me.”
He leans in. “Anything. What is it?”
“Even with the pain meds, I’m still sore. Kiss it better?” You smile the way you do when you’re joking, but it soon turns to a look of surprise when Zoro leans in even closer. He hesitates for a moment, face hovering above yours, before his free hand comes to cradle the back of your head and he presses a firm, intent kiss to your lips.
You stare at him when he pulls away, your expression slowly morphing into a smile–not a playful one, not a masking one, but a real smile.
“W-What’s with that look?” Zoro says, flustered now. Wasn’t that what you wanted?
“I meant kiss my stomach, dummy.”
Zoro’s eyes widen, but before he can remedy his mistake, you weakly pull him back in for another kiss. This time, he obliges without question.
Sanji
Sanji barely dodges a brutal strike from his opponent, then finishes them off with a flaming kick to the skull. You grin at him as you down your own opponent with a heavy strike from one of your tonfa.
“Careful there, Hotfoot! He almost got you!” you yell gleefully, only to narrowly avoid getting hit yourself.
“Worry about yourself, Sticks!” Sanji calls back, mirroring your grin.
“They’re not sticks!” you say yet again, smashing one of the tonfa into a pirate’s head and knocking them out cold. “You’re just jealous I can fight with my hands!”
“I choose not to fight with my hands!”
“Sure you do!”
You were well aware of Sanji’s commitment to only use his hands to cook, but it was still fun to pretend it was a skill issue. Sanji knew it was all teasing anyway. The two of you greatly enjoyed your banter, whether in or outside of battle. As physical fighters, your rivalry was a friendly one. After all, out of everyone in the crew, you spent the most time talking to each other.
The next wave of pirates comes, this time stronger than before–the enemy’s commanding officers. The battle becomes too serious for you to go on making comments, and your focus gets pulled toward your opponents.
It’s a hard, bloody fight. As soon as he defeats his opponent, he worries about how the others are faring. The rest of the crew is almost done with their own one-on-ones, and he finds himself rushing to find you first, his pace hurrying when he finds one of your tonfa lying off to the side.
You’re straddling your opponent on the ground. Your non-dominant hand is broken, held crookedly against your chest, and you’re bleeding from your hairline and mouth. With your good hand, you beat your tonfa into your opponent’s skull, over and over, a broken cry tumbling from your bloody lips with every strike. Your opponent is no longer moving, but you don’t stop, tears streaming from your eyes as you mash his face to a visceral pulp.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Sanji skids to a stop next to you, grabbing your wrist before you can strike again. “He’s dead! It’s over. It’s over. You won.”
You look at him with wide eyes. Your mouth is held open, and at first, Sanji doesn’t realize what’s wrong, but he can tell you only won by a hair from the way you’re trembling. He gets down and pulls you into a gentle hug. “I got you,” he says. “I got you. You’re okay now.”
He holds you at arm’s length and checks over your body for any injuries, finding none. Mouth still open, you pull away from him and start patting the grass with your good hand, searching for something.
“Y/n? What’s wrong?” he says. “Please, say something.”
Sanji expects something tired and sarcastic, like ‘you don’t look much better.’ Instead, you make a strange, groaning noise as your response, and he feels a chill run through his body. You always had a quick retort for him, even when things were dire.
You seem to find what you were looking for, your hand closing around something. Sanji helps you stand up, and when you open your hand, he sees a few teeth in your palm that must have gotten knocked out.
“Your jaw’s broken,” Sanji realizes aloud, and you nod, and suddenly the way you hold your mouth open is deeply unsettling.
The silence that follows your surgery, however, puts Sanji at an even greater unease. Your jaw is wired shut to let the bone heal, and Chopper says that for the next six weeks, you won’t be able to speak at all.
You carry around a notepad with you, but for a while after you wake from the anesthesia, you don’t write anything down except to answer Chopper’s questions, opting instead to sulk.
“Come on, Sticks,” Sanji says lightly as he signs the cast on your hand. “I know you have something to say.”
You flick him off with your good hand, then seem to regret it, your face fallin along with your hand. Sighing through your nose, you grab your notepad and scribble something down, then hold it up for him to see.
‘I look like a chipmunk.’
The lower half of your face has, naturally, swollen up. Sanji shakes his head. “No, no, you look fine! You…” A pointed look from you makes him concede. “Okay, yeah. It’s swollen. What did you expect?” You look away, and he pats your shoulder. “Ah, come on, it’s not so bad. Most people find chipmunks cute, you know.”
Your eyes widen slightly and you give him a look of surprise. Sanji stiffens.
“Um, well, I mean…” he stammers. Though he doesn’t leave, for the rest of that day, you both avoid looking at each other.
From the beginning to the end of your healing process, Sanji stays by your side, always finding a way to make you feel better. He’ll hype you up by doing a drumroll while he’s waiting for you to finish writing out a thought, something which the rest of the crew picks up as well. When you’re hanging out with him in the galley, he’ll do hibachi tricks with the food he prepares to cheer you up.
The food he makes for you especially helps you get through the long weeks. You were severely bummed out at having to miss his cooking for weeks–until the first sip of the soup he cooked. You never knew a liquid diet could be so delicious. Sanji takes the time to roast and blend anything you’d wanted. Thanks to him, being unable to chew food doesn’t affect your nutrient intake at all.
He also indulges you in your favorite drink without you having asked, which is surprising. It’s not the first time he’s gone out of his way like this, but it does feel more special when you’ve been in such a vulnerable state.
‘Maybe there’s an upside to this after all.’
Sitting in the galley while Sanji cooks, you hold up your notepad for him to read.
“And what is that?” he says, walking around the prep table with a mixing bowl in his arms, looking down at what you’re writing.
‘I love y’
You pause, staring at your notepad with a weird, dumbstruck look. Sanji’s eyes widen, slowing down his mixing for a second, but you quickly recover and finish scribbling.
‘I love you treating me extra special.’ You hold up the notepad hesitantly, avoiding his eye.
Though feeling warmth rise in his chest, Sanji plays it cool. “Well, I’m glad you’re finding the positive in this,” he says. “I personally miss the sound of your voice.”
You drop your notepad and fumble to catch it with only one good hand, accidentally smacking it to the floor. Both you and Sanji crouch down to pick it up, and freeze when your hands touch.
The urge to say ‘sorry’ is strong, though you can’t speak. Face burning, all you can do is look at him apologetically and hope he understands. But when you do, he’s looking back at you with the same expression he has when he reads a brand new recipe. Like he’s figuring something out.
You go to pull your hand away, but his fingers close around yours. “I, uh… I really mean that, you know.”
Swallowing, you glance down at his hand holding yours, then back up at him, and nod.
“Y/n,” he says, letting go of your hand to instead cup your cheek tenderly. “Would you… I mean. Can I…?”
With your heart pounding, you nod again, and Sanji leans in. You close your eyes, and a moment later, his lips brush yours, feather-light. Just that barest contact makes your head spin almost as bad as it did when you got your injury in the first place.
Sanji breaks free, and you stare at each other. A slow smile spreads across your lips at the sight of his nose starting to bleed. You both stand up, and you write something down quickly.
‘I’m sorry I can’t kiss you back.’
“That’s okay,” he says, reading the note over your shoulder. He rubs the back of his neck, grinning. “I’ll gladly do all the work.”
And Sanji does, in the quiet, private moments where it’s just the two of you. And yet, when the day finally comes for Chopper to remove the wires, and the first thing you do upon leaving the exam room is call out Sanji’s name, he’s so elated that he picks you up with a spin, kissing you in front of everyone before he can help himself.
#one piece imagines#one piece x reader#luffy x reader#zoro x reader#sanji x reader#x reader#reader insert#zen writes
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No you don't understand this conversation occupies like half of my brain
Excuse me while I ramble incoherently.
Zuko pretty consistently thinks in terms of 'complete task = result'. (Capture avatar = Dad will love him; get gf food = gf won't be grumpy; light candles for date = date not sad etc.) In this case (following her threat) 'prove I won't hurt the others = Friendship with Katara'. He wants to be friends with all of them, not just allies.
He's done what he was told to, but it hasn't changed anything, what is he missing?
Zuko (and the audience) are under the impression that her anger with him is based in her protectiveness, her caution and her strong sense of morality... BUT THEN THIS HAPPENS
Katara turns around and lets him know EXACTLY what he's missing.
This is not about the others, it's not about him being a threat, it's not about Aang. Its about them! Him and Her!
The rug is pulled out from under our feet. And Zuko's. Katara won't forgive him because she did feel a connection to him, felt like she could trust him, and then he hurt her. Then after she's convinced herself that it was all a deception and doesn't matter, this idiot just shows up and reveals that oh, that wasn't a deception at all, that connection was genuine, but he still betrayed her. The others trusting him grates on her because SHE WAS THERE FIRST AND LOOK WHAT IT GOT HER!
I can't even put it into words how much I think about the line 'Oh, everyone trusts you now? I was the first person to trust you, remember?!'
She's reminding him that their relationship didn't start at the Western Air Temple, it started in the catacombs. Maybe Zuko thinks that who he was then is behind him, but Katara doesn't.
No wonder Zuko's next move is, okay, give me a new, specific task that will fix this problem. There must be something I can do to fix it. He tries by finding Yon Rha, but in the end it isn't his actions that lead to her forgiving him, it's her personal judgement and newfound closure.
I think realising that there's no easy task that can salvage their connection helps him move away from feeling like he can earn relationships from people. When he goes to his uncle (after talking to a certain someone might I add), he doesn't list what he's done right to prove why he should be forgiven (as he does when he joins the gaang), he just apologises and accepts that he might not be forgiven no matter what he does because its not something he can earn through performing services for people.
Altogether, this moment is so special because the show for once is willing to admit that the catacombs moment mattered to these characters and they haven't forgotten that.
Ugh they break my brain they really do.
#this is even putting aside the romantic drama of it all#what in the pride & prejudice is this framing ppl????#my posts#zutara#atla#katara#zuko#angry katara is also always so good
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{Fake It Like You Love Me} Azriel x Reader x Xaden Riorson x Cassian
*slowly creeps up from the depths of hell* Heeeeeeeey, glad you guys remember I still exist 😭😭 First off, THANK YOU for 600 followers. That's insane and I don't deserve you all so thank you so fucking much. SECONDDDD, here is another part of my Fuck Away The Pain series!! Sorry this has taken me so long to do, but I think you for your patience. As always, let me know what you think and feel free to drop a request if you have any!!! Enjoy! Title and series inspired by this song.
Part 1: {Show Me Where It Hurts}
Part 2: {Dirty Little Curse}
these do not need to be read in order to be enjoyed!
Word Count: 7,630
Warnings: Smut. Like... an alarming amount of smut. ACOTAR x FOURTH WING, Dom/Sub, MMMF, use of the nicknames "pet" and "sir", oral (M and F receiving), pet play, degrading, praise kink, choking, spanking, cum eating, unprotected sex.
Tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain @thelov3lybookworm @needylilgal022 @librafairy @cyrygher @agent-anna @blessthepizzaman @bubybubsters @highladyofterrasen7 @annabethgranger123 @acourtofbatboydreams @thatacotargirl @berryzxx @throneofsmut
Summary: It is just after the legendary snowball fight. Azriel, Cassian, Rhys and Xaden are in the sauna while you, Mor, and Feyre are inside the cabin. Once Rhys leaves, it seems that there is a vacant spot that needs to be filled.
~~~~~
“So, explain this to me again?”
“Every year, they have a snowball fight. They just keep going and going and going until there’s a winner,” Feyre explains. “This is the first time you and Xaden are here so I think they’re taking it easy.”
From off to the side of the cabin, we hear a shout and then a chorus of laughter.
“Maybe not,” Mor says, peeking out the window. “Cassian just decked Riorson in the face.”
I giggled, sipping my warm tea and curling my legs under myself. “Probably made fun of Cassian’s hair or something. Called him a wet dog.”
“You know damn well that animal will come in here and shake like one too.”
“And after the sauna? Yuck, it’s going to smell for ages in here,” Mor shakes her head.
“The sauna?”
Both of them stop dead in their tracks, exchanging a knowing glance. Feyre looks at me with a twisted smirk. “You don’t know about the sauna?”
“Should I be afraid?”
“Definitely,” Mor grins, setting down her cup. “After they get done, they all go into the sauna together.”
“Naked?” I dare to ask.
“Terribly so,” Feyre adds. “A few years ago, on my first trip to the cabin, I got Rhys kicked out because… well, he just couldn’t stop thinking of me.”
I damn near choked. Then I burst out laughing. I can imagine it. Rhys, Azriel and Cassian sitting in the sauna together. It must be some sort of rule they have. If one of them gets a little too hot and bothered, they’re out. But the thought of them all in there, Azriel and Xaden sweating… does some pretty magical things to my brain.
And the space between my thighs.
“Gods you are just as bad as they are, Yn,” Mor fake gags, coming to sit next to me. “Don’t get too excited. None of us have ever been in, and none of us ever will.”
“Really? That’s kind of shocking, honestly.” There hasn’t been one exception? “I know Cassian is a bit of a…”
“Male whore?” Mor fills in the blank. It makes me giggle.
“I don’t quite know everyone well enough to make those assumptions, but Cassian definitely gives off a certain… aura.”
“Oh please, he’d take it as a compliment,” Mor smiles, playing with some of my loose hair. “But no, not even him. Now, what I cannot believe is how you ended up with both Az and Riorson. That is truly a work of art.”
I can’t help the smile that blooms onto my face. “Some are just more blessed than others.”
Feyre barks a laugh, “I’ll say. You got lucky with those two, you know.”
“I know. We’re not like– together together, but they take very good care of me. I honestly kind of like it. It's all the best parts of a relationship without having to worry about if everyone is getting enough attention. They give me what I need, and I give them what they need.”
“Have you ever asked for more? To be in a real relationship?” Mor asks, curiosity getting the best of her. Feyre smacks her in the shoulder. “Ow!”
“Don’t be insensitive,” the High Lady reprimands.
“Don’t be silly,” I wave them off. “I’ve thought about it, but I don’t think that’s what I want. Sure, being in love is great and all, but why complicate it? We work flawlessly together right now, why change? If either of them brings it up, I’ll be open to the idea. But for right now I’m thriving. They are far too generous anyway. They constantly bring me gifts or invite me out to dinner. They’re doing enough for me. Far more than enough.”
“Not to mention the world's best sex,” Mor wiggled her eyebrows at me. “What’s it like with the two of them? Are the rumors of the Illyrian true? What about Xaden, is he packing too? Gods I bet he is, isn’t he? Now, I am the last Fae in Prythian who’d want to be taken by two males, but… for the both of them? I might reconsider. Tell me, does Az-”
“Cauldron boil me,” Feyre sighs. “I’m getting a drink.”
“Ooh! Will you bring me-”
“No,” Feyre scolds, heading into the kitchen.
“Crony bitch.”
“I heard that!” Feyre shouts from the other room.
Mor and I share a laugh, snuggling in close together. “This is so fun.”
“Isn’t it?” Mor says, “You’re always welcome back, Yn. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Az so relaxed. He looks… happy. And I can’t vouch for Riorson but he looks like he needs this too.”
“Yeah it’s been a stressful couple weeks for Xaden. There was a huge issue in his homeland and he nearly lost his life. His dragon is bonded to someone else in his squad, and her dragon almost died. It was scary. I’m just glad he’s okay. On the flight up here he was giving me all his strategies on how he was going to win.” There’s a loud cackle from outside and the sound of bodies running into each other. I looked over the back of the couch, seeing Xaden at the bottom of the pile, snow being shoveled into his face. “Guess they didn’t work so well.”
“They’re probably done now,” Mor explains.
“Sauna time?”
“Sauna time.”
The door opens and the four males clamber in, shaking snow from their hair and clothes.
“I’m gonna get you back for that Rhys,” Xaden grins, evil intent behind those onyx eyes.
“I’d like to see you try. Hey Mor, hi Yn. Where’s Feyre?” Rhys pats the top of Mor’s head, offering me a kind smile.
“In the kitchen!” She calls, the High Lord following the sound of her voice.
Cassian makes a b-line for the couch, shaking his head like a mutt. Mor squeals, I just shut my eyes and take the damage. When I open them, he snickers and sits on the floor, sighing loudly. “And that makes 181 wins for yours truly.”
“Then he must have cheated,” Mor gags, wiping off Cassian’s grime with the bottom of her shirt. “For fucks sake Cass you stink.”
“I’m a hard working male,” he begs to differ.
“Only thing you’re working is gonna be my foot in your ass,” Mor chides, standing up. “I’m going to shower, I smell like a dog.”
“You wish you smelled as good as me. Sorry to catch you in the crossfire, Yn.”
“It’s all good,” I smile, rubbing the few drops I got off on my sleeve.
But the look on Xaden’s face when he comes to sit next to me reflects anything but. He’s got a scowl directed at Cassian, but he makes quick work of masking it, planting a kiss on my cheek. A moment later, Azriel does the same thing.
“Should you be sitting on the couch?” I ask. Xaden’s hair a soaking wet mess, his clothes more the same.
“Trust me,” Azriel chimes in, “There have been far worse things on this couch.”
I blink at him, wondering if I would need to burn my clothes after this. He plops down next to me, slinging an arm over the back of the couch behind my shoulders.
Cassian looks between all three of us. Clearly seeing the size difference and taking notes about it. “I should probably keep my mouth shut.”
“That would be wise, brother,” Azriel grumbles, stretching out his legs. “Where's Rhys? Im fucking freezing and I wanna go in the sauna.”
“He’s in the kitchen with Feyre,” Mor said, rounding the corner from the washroom. She clearly didn’t shower, but she smelled much better. “And we all know what happened the last time the two of them were left alone here.”
“What happened?” Xaden and I asked at the same time.
“Nothing,” Azriel, Cassian and Mor responded in unison.
The dragon rider and I shared a look, a silent promise to ask Az about it later. We had a nice evening planned, dinner with everyone, and then they were going to let Az, Xaden and I spend the night in the cabin. We’ve never been here before today so it was a generous offer. I can tell how much this place means to all of them.
No one needs a vivid imagination to get an idea of what’s going to happen later.
“Fuck him,” Cassian pushes to his feet, binding his hair back with a strip of leather. “Come on, let's get started. He can decide later if he wants to join.”
Cassian and Xaden head out the door, but Az stays seated next to me. “Having fun?”
“Of course,” I reassured, patting his thigh. “Mor and Feyre are very kind. And this is a lovely cabin.”
“Good, I’m glad.”
“Looks like you two had a lot of fun,” I smile, resting my cheek on his damp shoulder. “You smell far better than Cassian.”
“Naturally,” Az smirked. “And yes we did. Xaden needed it, you needed it. It’s always just been the three of us every year, but it felt right to have Xaden here in the mix. You too, obviously.”
“Glad I could make the cut,” I joked, receiving a pinch on my ear.
“Brat.”
“That’s not even close to me being a brat and you know it.”
“Don’t I ever,” he grinned, covering my mouth with his. Despite the chill coming from his body, his lips were warm and soft. Full of life, vibrance, and need. “By the sound of it, Rhys won’t be joining us in the sauna. We won’t be in there long, will you bring us some towels around four?”
I looked at the analog on the wall, the hands reading 3:22pm. I nodded, “Sure.”
He curled my hair around his fingers before standing, following the other two outside.
In the meantime, I hung out with Mor and we talked about random stuff. She tried to get more details about Az and Xaden, but I wasn’t willing to give them up. We played a few card games, had a snack and a glass of wine before she winnowed off the mountain and back to Velaris to meet some friends at Rita’s.
Just as I was curling up with a book, I felt a cool whisper circle my wrist. A strand of Azriel’s shadow wrapped around and around in a never ending bracelet. I smiled, looking at the clock. Just seven past four. I head for the closet, grabbing three thick, soft tan towels.
Damn, it's cold out here. How do they not freeze to death? I carefully step in their footsteps so my toes don’t get frozen off. There is a little stone path to the sauna and I gladly jump from stone to stone. With the towels under my arm, I knock on the door.
“I brought your towels, they’ll be out here on this chest,” I shouted, unsure if they’d be able to hear me through the thick wood paneling. There was a small jut out from the roof over the door, ensuring they wouldn’t get covered with snow.
“Will you bring them in?” Xaden calls.
I skidded to a halt, damn near knocking myself over. Did he just say what I think he said? “I thought no females were allowed in the sauna?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cassian’s voice boomed. “We just need the towels so our bits don’t freeze off. You can close your eyes if you’re scared.”
Scared? I wasn’t scared, but I didn’t particularly care to see Cassian sprawled out with all his glory on display. Well, okay that's a complete lie. Ever since I first saw the Lord of Bloodshed, I thought he was… well… hot. He’s tall, all thick muscle and confidence. He knows he’s hot shit. I’d imagine if he were a closer friend that confidence might piss me off, but I think he’s funny. He knows what he’s got and he’s not afraid to show it.
“Are you going to bring them or not?” Xaden shouts.
Oh. Right. The towels.
I take a steadying breath and push open the door. A wave of humid, damp air blasts me in the face, instantly melting the flecks of snow on my hair and lashes. There isn’t a light save for a few windows to let some ventilation in. It's dark, but I can make out the three figures. Azriel and Xaden are to the left, and Cassian is to the right.
I keep my eyes on my boys and place towels in Xadens open arms. “Thank you, my dear.”
“Of course,” I smile, carefully avoiding any glimpses of Cassian in my peripherals. Just before I can reach the safety of the outdoors, Azriel’s hand wraps around my wrist, gently tugging me in front of him. His other hand curls around my hip, pinning me still. “Yes, my shadow?”
He all but purrs at the nickname. “Stay.”
Stay. Stay? As in… in here? With him and Xaden and Cassian? “You guys enjoy your time together.”
I tried to take another step, but he sat up, gripping my body to keep it positioned between his powerful legs. I trailed my eyes down his torso, seeing a bit of a surprise waiting for me. “I told you to stay.”
Heat flooded my body, a different heat than the one coursing through the sauna. I quickly glance at Xaden to see him exchanging a glance with Cassian across the way.
“I- I wouldn’t want to kick Cassian out just because you want me, Az. That’s rude,” I say, my breath hitching when he slides his hands under my thick wool sweater. He rakes his nails down my back and I momentarily forget that there is a third set of eyes watching.
“I don’t think Cassian would mind the show, would you, Cass?” Azriel looks around my torso at the Illyrian, and I have to force myself not to do the same.
There isn’t a verbal response from him.
Az roughly grips my hips, forcing me to sit down in his lap. His mouth attaches to mine before I can make a sound. I flinch momentarily when he bites down on my lip, his pace fast and aggressive. The sauna is silent save for the sound of our lips meeting.
Sweat begins to swell around my hairline, trickling down the back of my neck. He removes my sweater and tosses it towards the open door. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and the hot air coats my bare back. Azriel breaks the kiss, latching onto my neck and collar bone.
“Az,” I say, already breathless. “Wh-What are you doing?”
“Are you telling me that you’ve never thought about Cassian before?”
Shit. SHIT.
“I- well I didn’t- not in the way you think I would’ve I was just-”
“That certainly didn’t sound like a no, Yn,” Azriel looks up at me, a knowing glint in his eye. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“I- I didn’t think… I would’ve never thought that-”
“You have five seconds to tell me to stop. One.”
“Azriel I-”
“Two.” He pushes me back to my feet.
My knees buckle and it’s an effort to keep myself upright in the sweltering humidity. “Why would I have thought that you and Xaden would want-”
“Three.” He stands, towering over me.
I huff in annoyance. “Azriel, stop counting-”
“Four.” Az makes me take two steps back, advancing on me.
“Xaden will you please fucking-”
“Five.” His fingers wrap around my throat and push me back. Directly into Cassian. A second set of hands find their way onto my body. Cassian grips my hips, keeping me from falling. I am deathly still. I hardly breathe. I don’t dare make a noise. “You’d like it if Cassian joined, wouldn’t you?”
I don’t respond.
“She looks petrified,” Xaden points out very matter-of-factly.
“I like it when she’s scared, she obeys when she is. Isn’t that right pet?”
One word. One stupid nickname and I’m under his spell. Fuck, of course I want Cassian to join. I haven’t ever seen him without clothes, but he doesn’t leave much to the imagination. “I- I umm-”
“Just admit it and I’ll let you go,” Azriel demands, tightening his fingers for emphasis. It’s nowhere near a dangerous amount, but it makes my breath hitch.
“Yes yes,” I rush out, senses on fire.
“Yes what, pet? Come on, you know the rules. If you want Cass to join you have to tell him.”
Azriel releases me, and if it weren’t for Cassian holding me up, I would’ve keeled over. The combination of the restricted airflow and the density of the heat in the sauna was going to make a lethal combo.
And I craved it.
I quickly slipped under, fully ready to play with the three of them. I gently turn and look down at Cassian. His bronze skin is shining with sweat, hair still bound behind his head. I take a deep breath, swallowing. “Would you like to play with us, Cassian?”
His eyes dilate, tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lips. “I thought you’d never ask, darling.”
Relief floods me and I smile. I am so thrilled he said yes. I look over at Az and Xaden, waiting for their command. I desperately need them to tell me what to do. This is already so overwhelming in the best way possible.
“Why don’t you be a good girl and welcome Cassian, okay?”
I don’t need to be told twice. Like he knows what I was thinking, his knees spread apart, inviting me in. I sink down to the floor and stare up at him through my wet lashes. “Messy or clean?”
A grin spreads across the Illyrians mouth. “Oh, she’s good. Messy, darling. I want to see you ruined.”
Cassian’s finger separated my lips and I sucked on his thumb. He pressed down on my tongue, and I swirled it around his digit. Meanwhile, his other hand fisted himself, and I couldn’t help but take a glance.
Cauldron boil me alive–
I delicately reach a hand out and replace mine with his. The warrior's head falls back and he shuts his eyes. My hand is so much smaller than… well, every part of him. I stroke up and down, gently thumbing the small slit at the tip. A few drops slide down onto my finger and I generously lick them off. He definitely tastes similar to Az, but nothing like Xaden.
The moment my tongue circles him, he cuts loose a moan deep from his chest.
“Fuck you’re so warm,” Cassian lifts his head, taking in the sight of me taking him in. I swallow around him, drawing more sounds out of him.
“I think what makes it so good is she loves doing it. Don’t you, Yn? You love being stuffed full,” Azriel comes up behind me, his presence stealing my breath away. Maybe it’s the added heat that makes my head dizzy. “That’s right, work him all the way down. Get him nice and deep.”
I push and push my head all the way down his cock, taking a moment to stay still, just emphasizing exactly what I can do. Cassian laughs at me, full on laughs. A mocking sort of sound that spreads goosebumps all across my skin. He bucks his hips, really testing how far he can push me.
“Oh, she’s good,” he grunts, head tipping back again. “Keep that perfect mouth moving, darling.”
My ears are ringing a little. Whether that be from the heat or the sheer overstimulation, it’s hard to tell, but I didn’t react right away. The next thing I knew, one of Azriel’s hands was fisting my hair, the other braced at the back of my head. I nearly choked when I was ripped away and then slammed down onto his cock a few times.
“You heard him, Yn. Take his cock like the good slut you are,” Azriel reprimanded. He continued to overpower me, making me work up and down on Cassian. I let my jaw go slack, along with my hands braced on Cassian’s thighs. I let out a content sigh as I was fucked on Cassian’s cock.
I rocked with Azriels movements. His grip singed my scalp and an ache formed in my jaw. It was familiar, ignorable, but present nonetheless. I was glad to have them doing all the work, it was far too hot in here to think clearly… even without the added exertion.
When Az decided I got the memo, he let go of my head and I continued the motions with steady practice. I closed my eyes, feeling every drop of sweat on my body. My thick, fleece lined leggings were beginning to soak through. Xaden’s calloused hands found their way to my waste and began to slide them off. With a pop, I pulled off of Cassian, giving my jaw a much needed break. Xaden peeled them from my legs, taking my underwear with them. But, before he let me sit back down, he laid down on his back, beckoning me to ease on top of him.
“Surely you’ll suffocate, it’s already unbearably hot in here,” I huff, catching my breath.
“Then I shall go doing what I love most,” the dragon rider replies. “Sit.”
I looked to Az, silently asking if this really was a smart decision. He just gave me a pointed nod with narrow eyes, a promise that if I didn’t listen he’d make working for my release miserable. So I obeyed without a second thought.
The moment his tongue curled into me, I sighed. Aimlessly, my hand worked tentatively up and down Cassian’s shaft, drawing a few sounds out of the General. “Let me fuck your throat, darling.”
There must’ve been a sparkle in my eye because I grinned, opening wide for him to do so. His length was thick. Almost too thick. And long. Fucks sake everything about him was big. I was up for the challenge. As it hit the back of my throat, I relaxed, letting his hands fall around my ears. It was gentle at first, his thrusts long and even. I moaned in tandem with the licks I was receiving from Xaden, my mind a melted, scrambled mess of ecstasy. With a particularly hard suck on my clit, I jerked the opposite way Cassian was going.
“Ah ah ah,” he chided, clicking his tongue. “You don’t get to run away from me. Take what you’ve been given. Be a good fucking girl, Yn.”
I glance up at him, throat too full to make any noise. A third set of hands– Azriels, so experienced and commanding, settled on my breasts, plucking and pulling. I could feel everything and nothing at the same time. My entire body was numb with pleasure, numb with exploration of the three of them.
Azriel. Xaden. Cassian. All three of them, the most powerful warriors of their respective worlds, all focused on one thing. One goal.
Me.
Cassian picked up his pace, the thrusts less deep, but far more firm. It was clear he was chasing his high, thick veins beginning to bulge in his arms… up his chest… in the column of his throat.
“She does such a good job at taking it,” Cassian praises. “Doesn’t gag, doesn’t complain. Look at all those pretty tears. All for me, darling? Do I fuck you so good you need to cry? It’s okay, I’ll lick them clean. Then make them spill down your neck again when I get to fuck your pussy.”
My heart thrashed in my chest, thighs shaking with the force of Xaden’s tongue against my core. I writhed my hips, breathing harshly through my nose every other thrust because that’s all Cass would allow. At some point Azriel’s hands left the mix. I couldn’t see him anywhere, but his presence remained. Those shadows replacing his skilled fingers.
My body was wound tight. I was already anticipating a fun night with just Azriel and Xaden. But now? With Cassian? A new fire had been set ablaze inside me. And it needed– no, demanded, to be let out. I tried to warn Xaden, I tried to ask for permission, but I couldn’t with Cassian’s grip on my head. I fiercely moaned, hips shaking so badly that Xaden had to lock me in place.
“You can let go,” Azriel commanded from somewhere behind me. I silently thanked him.
Like a crack of lightning, my release barreled through me. I came so hard my vision whited out, a faint ringing bounding between my ears. Moans of pure pleasure spilled out of me and right onto Cassian. The extra vibrations must’ve done wonders from him because his grip faltered, as well as his pace. His head slumped forward and his eyes rolled shut.
“Fuuuuck, whatever you’re doing to her, Riorson, you better not fucking stop. Keep her moaning like that. Fuck I’m gonna cum so hard. Want it, pretty pet? Want my cum down your throat, filling your belly?”
He released my head, bidding me to give a verbal answer. After what Xaden just did to me, I’m not sure that’s physically possible. “P-Please, sir” I sigh out, my voice in an atrocious state already. “Wanna make you feel so so good.”
The use of ‘sir’ must’ve really done something to him. He sat up, a corrupt, unforgiving smile creeping onto his cruel lips. “Sir? That’s a dangerous game, my darling.”
“She doesn’t mind a little bit of danger, does she?” Azriel grips my hair again, pulling my head back so I have to look up at him. I nod carefully, the strain in my neck almost too much. “Yes she does. Now get to it, I'm getting impatient.”
Bad things happen when Azriel is left uncared for. And who was I to make him suffer?
I stuck out my tongue, a silent beg for Cassian to slip back in. He did without further coercion. The first time my nose brushed the soft hair on his pelvis, I could’ve sworn it was an accident. The second time, I realized it wasn’t. I couldn’t breathe, a small panic settling in every crevice of my body. I tried to keep calm, but between a relentless Xaden under me and a ruthless Cassian in front, it was near impossible.
“F-Fuck fuck fuck fuuuucccckkkk,” Cassian shouted, the muscles in his thighs and abdomen flexing. “Gonna take it all? It’s gonna be a lot, can you handle it, darling? Yeah I think you can. I’ll make you either way. Stay niiiiice and still for me- oh fuck-”
At the last second, he pulls me off about an inch and the humid, sweat filled scent of air floods into my nose. I drink his release down. It’s thick and warm, salty and abundant. I hum around him as I swallow and swallow and swallow. My eyes fill with tears yet again and they escape down my cheeks.
Cassian shudders. With gentle laps of my tongue, I clean him up. He watches me attentively. I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips when our eyes meet.
“You…” he breathes heavily, chest swelling and falling. “You are a little devil, aren’t you?”
The Illyrians hand wraps around my throat and he pulls me to my feet, and off of Xaden. The way our tongues met could’ve moved mountains. He was not shy in showing how much he wanted me. I melted into him, straddling his thigh and letting my arms drop to my sides.
Azriel played with my hair, hands caressing my ass. Together, they brought me down, content to let me relax for a few minutes.
“You did so well, pet,” Azriel cooed, dragging his tongue over the shell of my ear.
“So fucking good,” Cassian murmured against my lips. “Such a good little girl.”
I could hear Xaden climb to his feet, the sound of his hand stroking his cock loud in the otherwise quiet room. “I will never, ever, get tired of making her cum on my tongue.”
“Should I have a taste?” Cassian asked, placing small bites on my throat.
“I actually had something else in mind,” I sighed out, getting lost in all the hands and tongues. He gave me a curious look, but I just smirked, easing onto shaking legs and turning around so my ass was in Cassian’s lap. “I want to play a game.”
“A game?” There is an obvious hint of danger in Cassian’s voice? “What kind of game?”
“I want you and Xaden to fuck me, and I want Azriel to tell you when to move and when to stop.”
I haven’t yet brought it up to Azriel and Xaden, but I’ve always wanted to do this. A game of red light green light. To give full control and power to him, making us work for our pleasure. I look at Azriel, gauging his response, but he just grabs my chin, bringing our faces level.
“Yeah? You wanna play a game? Want to be treated like a literal pet? Taking commands and performing tricks?” His voice is thick with desire, so low only we could hear it.
My heart skips a beat. I hadn’t thought about it like that before. But the idea is… it’s-
“Look at her face, Cass,” Xaden tilts his head mockingly. “She wants it so bad, don’t you, pretty girl? Would you like a collar, that way if you get lost they know who you fucking belong to? Gods she’s so red. Don’t be embarrassed, pet. We know just how much you love being fucked full of cock and cum.”
“Sit on his dick, Yn,” Azriel orders. “Now.”
Silently, I hover over his lap, letting Cassian guide my hips. At the first press of his tip, I gasp. A new thrill thrummed through me.
Azriel comes and stands in front of me, cupping my cheeks. “I know he’s big, but you’re gonna take all of him. And you’re going to like it because you asked for it. So, here’s your first trick. Sit.”
The Shadowsinger pushes on my shoulders, leaving no option but to take Cassian all the way. All. The. Way. My breath is lodged in my chest with no room to escape. I can’t think. Can’t hear. Can’t see. Can’t even begin to process what is about to happen.
“Oh, good girl Yn,” Xaden praises, still stroking himself. “Look at how pretty she looks, Az.”
Cassian grunts behind me, hooking my legs over his knees so the others can see him buried inside me. I cry out at the shift, feeling him go deeper and deeper. Gods, he feels like he’s everywhere.
“Cassian, why don’t you play with her nipples,” Azriel instructs, walking back and forth in front of us. “Xaden, give her something to suck on.”
“With pleasure,” Xaden grins, those onyx eyes narrowing on my mouth. I go to protests, but then I realize just how hard he is. How flushed his skin is. And I need to taste it, to relieve him of his torture.
He traces my lips with the tip, coating them in his slick. With a heady pant, I stick out my tongue to invite him in.
A hand cracks down on my thigh. I scream out, more in shock than in actual pain. Azriel’s hand was the culprit.
“Did I say you were allowed to taste it yet?” His eyes are swirling with lethality. I bite my tongue to keep myself from saying something stupid. “Well?”
“N-No,” I say meekly. “I’m sorry. May I taste it, Az? Can I please taste Xaden?”
After a minute of letting the question hang in the air, building suspense, he nods. Greedily, I take Xadens hips and bring his cock towards my mouth.
It’s such a glorious sound to hear when Xaden curses low. A deep rumble in his chest letting me know this is exactly what he needed. Without moving– fearful I’ll get another smack– I look at Az, awaiting my next instruction.
“Fuck her throat, Xaden,” Az says, eyes scanning out bodies. “Start fucking her nice and slow Cassian. Really savor her, make her moan just like Xaden did for you.”
At the same time, both of their bodies start sliding in and out of me. They find a rhythm instantly: Cassian fucks me forward onto Xaden, and Xaden fucks me back onto Cassian. It’s easy enough to let them do all the work, my bones and liquid at this point anyway. All I know is pain, pleasure, and unfiltered need for these males.
I moan deeply as Cassian hits that spot inside me. Xadens hip stutter, his head tipping back as Cassian hits it over and over again.
“Does that feel good, Xaden?” Azriel asks, gripping his hair at the root, whispering right in his ear. “To have our girls' mouths all around you?”
The dragon rider nods as best he can with Azriel’s grip. “Fuck yes.”
“Make her stop.”
“W-Why?”
“Because I told you to. Yn, stop,” Azriel demands. I instantly pull my mouth away from Xaden, even if it makes me want to scream and thrash and beg for it back. I need it, need to taste it, need to feel him cum down my throat. “See, she listens to me. Do I need to punish you too?”
“No,” Xaden shakes his head. “I’ll listen.”
“Yes you will.” Azriel gives a fake smile. “On your knees.”
Xaden sinks to his knees.
“Suck on Yn’s clit. Make her cum on Cassian’s cock.”
The sight of Xaden, on his knees, cock leaking continuously, does something to me. It gives me ideas for later. He helps push open my legs, even when the first brush of his tongue makes me see stars. Cassian has to wind his arms around mine to keep me from sliding off. I know he’s strong, but to be able to hold me still and keep fucking me is…
“Good boy, Xaden,” Azriel praises, brushing his hair away from his face. “Just like that, make our pretty girl cum.”
It’s not going to take long. His laps are so soft, so gentle, and it works far faster than I’d like to admit.
“Az- Az can I cum?” I ask, just to be cautious. I do not want to have this taken away from me. I can’t have it taken away from me.
“Yes, pet. Cum as much as you want.”
It’s like music to my ears. It’s building and building. In my core, at the base of my spine. Behind my eyelids. It’s fucking everywhere. My vision goes white and an embarrassing noise tears from my soul. I writhe on Cassian, driving him further and further inside me. Sweat is dripping off me in buckets. Fuck it is so fucking hot in here.
“Very good Xaden,” Azriel says. “What a good boy, making our pet cum so well. You can stuff your cock back down her throat. She looked so sad to see it go. Go ahead and cum, fill her up nice and full. Cassian, get up.”
Suddenly I’m on my feet being steadied by several pairs of hands. The way Cassian is looking at me, the way he’s breathing, tells me I’m in trouble. The glances passed between Az and Cass worry me. The next thing I know I’m on my knees and elbows, ass up in the air.
“Sit on the floor, Xaden,” Azriel commands. “Right in front of Yn. Yup, there you go, now just let Cassian fuck her onto you.”
A shudder runs through my entire body when Cassian slips back in. I swiftly take Xaden down, mainly because if I don’t I’m going to go crazy. The delicious, sweet taste of him fills me once again and I hum in content.
“Don’t hold back Cassian, chase exactly what you want. Fill up her pussy as much as you want, she can take it.”
“Fucking hell, Az. Are you trying to kill me?” Cassian chuckles, letting his motions pick up pace. Every snap of his body into mine sends waves of pleasure down my spine. It rolls through me and allows me to take even more of Xaden in my mouth. “I’ll never get over just how fucking tight she is.”
“Malek spare me…” Xaden curses. I get to watch Xaden fall apart and a new thrill fuels my motions. I lose all concept of time, I have no idea what is going on. All I know is Cass is fucking me like his life depends on it, and that Xaden is holding on for dear life.
I suck as hard as I can, pressing my tongue into the bottom side of his cock. I can’t pay attention to the most sensitive areas of him, mainly because Cassian if fucking me too hard to let me. Hopefully I can make him see stars anyway.
“F-Fuck Yn, I’m gonna cum,” he warns, knees falling open. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum.”
“Give it to her, Xaden,” Azriel kneels beside Xaden, hand trailing over the muscles in his chest.
I watch the muscles in his abdomen clench with every breath. He scrunches his eyes closed and I brace for him, letting his hips rut as fast as he wants. With a long, drawn out growl, Xaden releases down my throat. I do my best to swallow it all, but between the angle and Cassian's relentless thrusts, I let a few drops spill out.
Xaden is throbbing on my tongue, his sounds of pure pleasure fill my ears, filling me with deep satisfaction.
“Can’t fucking take it anymore,” Azriel rips me off of Xaden and takes his place. I’m hauled up onto my palms, Azriel’s cock bobbing in front of me. Before I can take it between my lips, Azriel bends down to my level, licking the droplets of Xadens cum off my lips.
I went as still as a statue. Tingles spread from the tips of my fingers to my toes. I watched him swallow, his Adam's-apple bobbing. I was at a loss for words. If he wanted me to speak, it’d be impossible.
Thankfully I didn’t have to. He filled my mouth, not wasting a second.
“Xaden, will you go grab those towels?” Azriel asked, hands trailing over my shoulders.
“When I can move,” he responded, making the Shadowsinger and the General laugh. I swore I could feel the rumble of his laughter through his cock.
“Not gonna last much longer,” Cassian warns, adjusting his grip on my hips.
“Wait.” Azriel urges, “Give me one minute.”
Cassian stills, and I whine in discontent. A second later, his hand smacks my ass, undoubtedly leaving an imprint of his hand. “Don’t complain, pet. Or you won’t get anything at all. You should be grateful to be stuffed full of our cocks. That’s no way to disrespect a guest.”
Azriel is unforgiving as he fucks my throat, his pace fast and hard. To be fair, he has been waiting a long while for his turn. It doesn’t take long for him to start showing signs of nearing his high. He grabs both sides of my sweat-soaked head, and I feel drops from his own body–and Cassians–land on me.
“Want my cum?” Azriel asks, pulling me off. “Want me to cum down your little throat, pet?”
“Yes yes yes,” I slur my words together. “Please gimme all of it, need all your cum. Wanna taste you so bad.”
“Yeah you fucking do,” Azriel’s grin is sinister. He knows exactly what to say to make me squirm. “Drink it all up, slut.”
When he finally gives me what I want, I don’t dare waste a drop. I leave no mess to clean up as he cums all the way down. There’s nothing I can do but swallow, swallow, swallow.
I begin to lose some consciousness, the heat and over exertion finally catching up to me. I feel Azriel slip out, praising me and telling me how good I did. I think I nod, but Cassian resumes his motion and I forget about everything. I can only focus on him pounding into my pussy, getting so deep I have to let out little noises every time he does.
“She’s so fucked out,” Xaden says from… somewhere.
“Yeah she is, she looks so good. Limp and used. So fucking hot, Yn,” Azriel agrees.
I moan in response. It’s about all I’m capable of at this point. And it feels so good. Everything they did to me, every thrust from Cassian feels like I’m floating. I close my eyes and let him finish me.
As Cassian lets go, I feel him pin my shoulders to the ground, ramming his hips as hard as he can into me, filling me up nice and tight full of his cum. There's a big stretch, and then an almost immediate release. His warm slick flows out from around him and down the inside of my thigh. Tears or exhaustion and pleasure streak down my cheeks and fall onto the wood floor of the sauna.
Eventually, I’m laid on my back. I can barely open my eyes, but I feel a tongue lapping between my legs. I try to inch away, but firm hands keep me from closing my legs. I whine.
“Ah ah,” I hear Cassian chide. “He’s just trying to clean you up. Be still. Here, drink this.”
A cup is pressed to my lips and I hungrily drink down. The salty, briny taste is washed from my tongue and my blurry vision begins to steady. I look down, seeing Xaden between my legs, his curly head soaked with sweat.
Cassian’s thumb brushes my cheek, collecting a small tear. “Aww, poor baby.” I watch as he licks it from his digit. It… gets me going faster than I’d like to admit. Then his tongue trails the length of my cheek. I shudder, letting out a tiny squeak. “Told you I’d lick them clean.”
“Alright that's enough, Xaden,” Azriel says from up above. “Let’s get her inside and cool off.”
“I just couldn’t help it, her pussy looked so good full of cum,” Xaden winks at me, and I can feel a flush of my cheeks and neck. “Even after all we’ve done together, I still make you blush.”
“Zip it,” I glared at him, failing to keep my smile at bay.
Cassian lifts me up, hugging me close to his chest. We’re all covered in sweat, but I don’t give a fuck. I just want to take a nice bath, curl up with my boys, and sleep into next week. A cold burst of air greets me as we step outside the sauna.
“Is she doing okay?” Azriel asks. I think it’s him that brushes hair away from my face.
“Mhm,” Cassian responds, giving my body a squeeze. “She's gonna be alright?”
“Yeah,” Xaden added. “She always recovers really well. She’s not afraid to tell us what she needs. But by this point we know what she needs.”
“My only request is a bath.”
“See?” Xaden chuckles, then plants a kiss on my head. “Feeling okay? Not too lightheaded?”
I make a noise that sorta sounds like an ‘mhm’, but it kinda comes out as a garbled mess. All three of them give a laugh.
“That was… more fun than I thought it was going to me,” Cassian sighed contently, padding down the hallway to one of the bedrooms. I'm set gently on the bed, propped up against Cassian. I am way too tired to open my eyes, but my ears track them all around the room. I can smell the soft lavender wafting from the bathroom. Hallelujah.
“Yeah, I’m glad you joined,” Xaden agreed, his fingers beginning to braid sections of my hair. “We’re just waiting on the tub to fill up, pretty girl. Then we’ll get cleaned up and go to bed. You did such an amazing job, taking us all like that. And the game? We’re going to have some more fun with that, aren’t we?”
“Yes we are,” I nodded, peeking open my eyes to find them all huddled around me. Azriel smiles sweetly, cupping my face, stroking his thumb back and forth across my cheek. “Hi.”
“Hey,” he whispers. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah,” I nod, clenching my hands to get some of the tingling to go away. “It was so hot in there.”
“We even turned down the heat before you got in there,” Xaden explained, tucking some hair behind my ear. “Did you have fun?”
“I always do, did you?” I asked, looking up at Cassian.
“In the beginning I was a little unsure but… now I’m hoping you’ll send word any time you wanna play again,” He grins, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You were unbelievable.”
“Isn’t she something else?” Azriel looks at me fondly. “Baths ready, want to be by yourself or do you want one of us in there with you? Or… well, I guess we all can fit if that's what you want.”
“Well I’m certainly not going to wash my own hair,” I grin.
They all share a look, smiles creeping onto their mouths.
“I’ll get the shampoo,” Azriel winks.
“I call the conditioner,” Xaden stands, following Azriel into the bathroom.
I can’t help but laugh.
“Are they always like this?” Cassian watches as they root around in a cabinet, smelling the different bottles.
“Yes, they’re too kind to me.”
“I think it’s well earned,” he smiles, helping me stand. “Come on, let's go.”
I let him lead me in, making sure I get a good look at his ass. Damn. just… damn.
“I could ask Feyre to commission a painting, it’ll last longer,” he says cockily.
I give it a smack. With a helping hand from Azriel, I sink into the tub, and let the water cool off my skin. I lean back, wondering how I got so damn lucky.
#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar fanfic#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#fourth wing#azriel x reader x xaden riorson x cassian#xaden x reader#azriel fanfic#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#xaden riorson#fourth wing fanfiction#fourth wing fanfic#fourth wing smut#acotar smut#cassian x reader#cassian acotar#azriel x reader x xaden riorson#smut#my writing
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🗣️ (also sorry this got long, turns out i have thoughts) so like riko is one of the weirdest fandom cases i've ever seen. i've been in fandoms where characters who commit actual war crimes and genocide are badass babes or uwu soft bois, and even spoiled mafia brats who commit terrible crimes against the heroes for daddy's attention that get love and redemption. it's so weird to see just how isolated from all that riko is to me.
i do think it's partly how aftg is written, and that's also partly because niel's pov is not at all forgiving of riko, while is entirely forgiving of people like andrew. but i also think it's because of how riko himself is written. he's one of these characters that's better on paper than he is in the book to me. because he's never presented as smart enough to fall into the magnificent bastard trope where everyone applauds how devious his plans are, but he's not outright hammy enough to just be a fun read, he doesn't even get the same stupidly dramatic flare as andrew. and while we're told he's powerful and doing dangerous stuff, he's presented on page, more often than not, as a petulant child that neil is just done with or a guy who likes to torture people who neil is also done with. neil is never actually scared of riko, or even particularly threatened by him, and i think that hurts him and makes his position in the narrative weaker. especially when nora is trying to play him as a villain and a threat in a mafia story rather than a good old fashioned rival in a sports drama. for example, his first impression on the kathy show should live up to the hype of this imposing charismatic villain who broke kevin's hand, but instead loses him temper, forgets all of his media training and lets a nobody like neil goad him into losing control of the interview, and then his payback, things like shoving neil around and seth's death, are basically brushed off because neil doesn't really care that much. it's not given the weight to be a seriously omg this guys a threat first impression. and this isn't uncommon, lots of media hamstrings their villains at the start by making sure we know the main character is too sassy for them and can humiliate them, without thinking about how weak that can make the villain seem. it feels sometimes like nora wanted riko to be this chess master villain or tragic child who's lashing out at the world, without committing to it fully to either, or was just not an experienced enough writer to have known how to write either of those things in the pov of someone who hates riko's guts, which is understandable, writing is hard and that sort of nuance takes practice, especially if you just go by the books and not the extra content, and i do wonder how differently nora would have portrayed riko if she rewrote the main trilogy now with presumably a lot more practice under her belt. in the end riko ends up in this weird grey area to me where i understand why he's not popular, given he has none of the usual obvious traits that fans like to latch onto when redeeming a villainous character, and even the ones that are there are glossed over pretty quickly because of neil's pov, and a lot of his more interesting pieces are on paper not actively presented in the book, and not everyone reads super deep, but i also don't understand the amount of hate. i have literally never seen a character in any other fandom i've been in have this much fandom wide hatred.
See I have nothing to add here because you single handedly dropped the best analysis of Riko's character in the series I had pleasure to read so far and summed up all my feelings about why and what of the fandom.
If the goal was to write a character that is impactful yet easy to hate then that goal was achieved but for me it real takes away form the magnitude of feelings Riko could evoke in reader and questions he could provoke in narrative if he was given bit different presentation that woudl still align with the lore we already have.
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some updates for people so you know where we are here at desceros dot com:
i took the last couple days off of doing anything fandom-related to recollect myself, and i'm in a really good mindspace now thanks to my friends, my partner, and all of you. thank you, thank you, thank you.
i'm really itching to write again, which is super exciting! i have a brief collab that i'm doing with truffle, and i'm also going to be working on the next chapter of symphony. i think it's about time we hear about that history between viola-chan and alopex, don't you? ;)
also, i've got, like, holy shit a lot of messages of support in my inbox over the shitshow that rocked us all a few days ago. i'm not going to answer them because honestly i'm really tired of wasting brain cells on the whole situation and those people don't deserve more of my attention than they've already gotten; but know that i read every single one of them and i really, really, really appreciate everyone understanding my concern, supporting my new boundaries, and sending me such kind words. it really reinforces my thoughts that i made the right decision to stay. this is such a good community, and i'm glad i get to keep you :)
thank you especially to those of you that came off-anon. i won't ask you to do so in the future in order to keep interacting, and i will keep your identities secret, but i really appreciate the gesture of trust. i'm still keeping anon asks open since i know a lot of people are a bit shy, but it means a lot that you were like hey, this is who i am, i'm an adult, breathe easy.
anywho! barring someone hitting me between the eyes with a fic idea, after the next symphony chapter i'm going to be doing the house of leaves-inspired leo fic. that one's going to be really fun to write, and the people i've told little details about it have started vibrating enough to power a small country, so i think everyone's going to find it really interesting!! should be another symphony chapter after that, and then i'd like to do the leo fic for the dayjob au. that one is... well. teehee. :)
okay, that should give everyone an idea of where i am on working on things. i look forward to sharing all of it with you!! :D
#text tag#anyway. back to your scheduled desceros experience of turtle art text posts and deranged purple and or blue posting
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Guilty as sin?
➻ Synopsis: Reader has been fantasizing about regulus
➻ CW: Smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f!recieving), masturbation
➻ Requests are always welcome!!!
════ ⋆★⋆ ════
he’s a paradox, i’m seeing visions am i bad? or mad? or wise?
Regulus Black. Arguably the most attractive guy in school. At least.. he is to you. You sit at your table in the great hall trying to focus on whatever it is your friends are talking about but you can’t. He’s sitting, laughing with his friends. He’s only one table over but he has some sort of hold on you.
“Y/n? Are you even listening to me” Mary questions. You turn to look at her, a bit dazed “What?”
“I was asking you what you’re doing this weekend but you seem distracted” She smirks as she glances towards regulus. You quickly shut her down. “I was not distracted” You complain.
You listen to her as she starts talking about something else but you can’t take your eyes away from the slytherin table. Your mind drifts to the dream you had last night. Regulus… in your room… touching you. You glance at him and he’s seemingly already looking at you. You look away quickly but when you look back he’s no longer looking at you. Maybe he never was. You sigh as you bring your attention to the food in front of you in an attempt to distract yourself.
I keep these longings locked, in lowercase inside a vault
Watching Regulus play quidditch while trying to keep your thoughts from drifting to having him in your bed is not easy. You watch as he chases the snitch, curls messy from the wind, shirt tightening exposing his form. You’re practically salivating when the match ends. You roll your eyes at the way your Mary yanks you from your seat to pull you with her. Of course the slytherins just had to have a victory party.
This information from your friends had you in a deep blue mini dress in the slytherins dungeons. For some reason you agreed to come with though you’re not sure why, considering some girl was probably going to be draped over regulus and it wasn’t going to be you. You groan at the thought as you’re dragged to the drink table. Searching the party for him over your cup you’re surprised to find him already looking at you.
“Come on! Someone said we should play seven minutes in heaven” Adelia says as she pulls you to the circle. Of course they want to play a stupid muggle game that ends up with two people in a closet.
Regulus spins first and everyone watches as the bottle lands on you. He smirks up at you as he stands up and reaches for your hand. Instead of taking the opportunity to snog your crush like you’ve always wanted, you speed out of the dungeons.
these fatal fantasies, giving way to labored breath, taking all of me, we’ve already done it in my head
You lay on your bed, your dress on the ground. Your dormmates aren’t going to be back tonight. They all had someone to go sleep with. Your thoughts drift back to regulus. Him on top of you. Touching you. Tasting you.
“Come on sweetheart” He breaths as he pounds into you.
“I’m close regulus, please” You moan out as he captures your lips again.
“Shhh baby, we don’t want everyone to know do we?” He questions. You rapidly shake your head.
Your thighs shake as you touch yourself. Merlin you should not be doing this you think to yourself. Your thoughts of him rule out any other thought you could have had. You cum. Hard. All over your hand. You gasp, breathing in and out rapidly.
if it’s make believe, why does it feel like a vow well both uphold somehow
You gasp as your pulled into an empty classroom. You turn to see who has basically kidnapped you, only to come face to face with Regulus Black. You move back a few steps, sitting on a desk a little bit away from him. He smirks as he stalks closer. Ending up directly between your legs.
“Would i be that bad to kiss l/n?” He says brushing a hair behind your ear. You flush, shaking your head.
“Then why did you run away little dove?” He questions as he spreads your legs to better fit between them.
Your brain stutters as you try to think of what to say. What could you say? You ran away. Fast. “I- well” You try to speak but your brain can’t seem to form a sentence. He slides down till he’s on his knees in front on you.
You look away at the implication of what he’s doing but his hands wrapping around your thighs bring your attention back to him. “Do you want me to help you dove?” He asks as he breaths against your exposed thigh. You nod feverishly. He pushes your underwear to the side. Slotting his face between your legs he brings his tongue to your core. He licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit. Sucking lightly once he gets there
You cry out his name as he eats you out. He groans lightly against you sending delicious vibrations through you. You practically sob as he pulls away leaving you on the edge before kissing your thigh and standing up. He leaves you there, gasping for air, left of the edge.
if long suffering propriety is what they want from me, they don’t know how you’ve haunted me so stunningly
You’ve found it even harder to focus on anything except him since he left you in that classroom. You stare way more than you should. You swear you see him everywhere. It’s like he was always trying to be in your eye line. You groan at the thought of being left on the edge as you rest your head against the table. Your friends have noticed your off behavior but chose not to comment on it… too much.
“Why don’t you just go to the dorm and rest?” Adelia suggests. She was trying to be helpful but you know if you end up in your bed you’re just going to want him.
“I think you should get some sleep y/n/n, i don’t think i’ve even seen you sleep the last couple of days” Mary says as she looks at you with sympathy.
You nod. Though you know you’re not going to go to your bed. You stand and head out, hoping that going on a walk will help clear your head. It didn’t. Everything you saw made you think of him or rather places he could take you and you’d let him. You sigh at the thought as you continue walking, you must not have been paying attention to where you were going cause you ended up in front of the slytherin dorms.
I choose you and me… religiously. What if he’s written ‘mine’ on my upper thigh
What you didn’t expect to see was Regulus, leaning up against the wall, breathing heavily. You go to question what exactly he’s doing but he’s already stood up and walked towards you. He grabs your tie bringing you close so he can capture your lips with his. You both moan into the kiss, breathing stuttering as he moves to your neck. You sigh, he continues kissing along your neck and jaw.
“I want you.” He says hurriedly against your jaw. You nod and let him pull you into the common room and to his dorm.
“You’ve been stuck in my head since that stupid party” He says, pushing your robe off. He undoes your tie, unbuttoning your shirt. Your lips crash as he continues to undress you.
“Please Regulus, I need you” You moan against his mouth. He lifts you up before laying you out against his bed. He kisses up your thighs before pulling down your skirt.
“I’m sorry, i would but i just need to be in you” He says kissing your thigh before moving up so he can slot his legs between yours. You both moan loudly as he slips inside you. He begins to thrust, slowly at first before speeding up.
You let him go at whatever pace he wants as you slide your hands into his hair. He whines against your lips as you clench around him. You kiss him more firmly letting him slide his hand up into your hair. He moves his other hand, sliding it between the two of you so he can reach your clit. He rubs it in circles as he continues to thrust into you. You continue to make almost inaudible sounds.
After one particularly good thrust, hitting exactly right, you cum, clenching down hard on him. “y/n, i have to- please let me come in you” He breaths against your neck. You allow him to and he spills inside you. You both breathe heavily against each other as you come down from your high.
You’re about to pass out and sleep before he wakes you up to get cleaned up. After that the two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms. Recalling something stupid your friend said about how your thoughts wouldn’t be sinful if you never touch him. The thought quickly disappears as he tightens his arms around you and you drift off to sleep.
#biggestsimponhere#the marauders fanfiction#the marauders era#the marauders#regulus black x female reader#regulus black x y/n#regulus black x you#regulus black x reader#regulus black#regulus black smut
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I saw one of your stories and I got immediately interested by one of them, then I had an idea more like a head Canon maybe-
So you and Solomon are making a potion for class one of the brothers came into the classroom and a big explosion happened one of you and the brothers didn't brace for impact and then suddenly your future child is there I just want to see everybody's reaction or maybe what will they do in that situation (sorry it's a bit weird but yeah that's all I came up with in my head) ^^"
henlo!!! So you sent in this ask almost 3 years ago (may 20th 2021) I'm so so so sorry i didn't reply sooner, you're probably over this by now 😅 but i felt inspired to write it today so here we go 🫶
🌸Meeting your future kid with him🌸
GN MC
Okay so this time Solomon has some homework to do... sending this kiddo back without messing with the future is gonna take time. Until then you must take care of them! You are the parent afterall!!
Lucifer: 4 months old
Not gonna lie it took him the longest to realize it's YOUR baby WITH him! In his defense, babies can look a bit weird. The baby definitely has your mouth, but his eyes and hairline. He didn't see many infant in his life so this is all new! You can literally see his heart melt when the little baby smiles at him! Shares his part with pride, changes diapers, carries the baby around....just take over when the baby is fussy.
MC I can't wait to meet the baby again... I miss them already, isn't that funny?
Mammon: 3yrs old
Your toddler immediately recognized you and Mammon. You and him looked at each other with an awkward stare, his face is as red as it can be- you are definitely not ready for kids!!! The fact that around 3 years old kids looove disobeying on purpose doesn't help. Mammon gets the hang of it though, he looves his little troublemaker! They could play all day long.
I wanna see ya grow up little man- I looove being your dad!
Levi: 8yrs old
Again, the kis recognizes you and him. Right now he keeps telling you he isn't ready for kids and might never be; same as you!! So how did this happen??? Do you must have one in the future??? Thankfully with an 8yrs old you can already have a conversation, play games with, etc so by the time it's over he grows very fond of them.
MC... I think I have changed my mind- having a kid is a lot like having a small best friend!
Satan: 16yrs
Ah. Your child is as upset as any 16 yr old would be in this case, leaving you and Satan no time to think about the fact you made this person. He does his absolute best to stay calm and see things from the kid's POV, but man is it difficult when your teen keeps lying about important stuff, escapes the house as soon as you lower your guard, fights with anyone over and over who doesn't do as they want despite being so so so sensitive... it is tiring.
I wish I could see what they were like as a little kid... why did I think teens were easy?!
Asmo: 13 yrs
Okay he is very quick at recognizing his own kid; he has YOUR and HIS face memorized. Starts sobbing when he realizes what this means; you are going to be parents!! The thought of loving someone sooo much just sends him over the edge. He buys everyone matching clothes, plans so many vacations you are rarely at home, surprisingly good at answering questions your little one has. (Very comforting, builds their confidence as much as he can!!)
MC, how do I look as a parent? You still love me?
Beel: 1 yr old
Okay, it was obvious the baby is a perfect mix of you two; his eyes are definitely yours though! Beel finds this job to be super important so he spends almost all day with the baby. They play peek-a-boo, he helps your kid to learn to walk and eat with hands, carries them on his shoulder when they get tired. Honestly he doesn't want to let them go back.
MC... I think we should have at least 3 kids!"
Belphie: 6yrs
Okay, he never would've thought he'd have a kid with you; first, you are dating someone else right now and second, he doesn't really like kids. So this one's gonna be complicated. His face turns red though as he has always liked you but you made it clear he is not really your type. Co-parenting brought you much closer; you could see how calm he can stay when he wants to, and how smart he actually is especially when the 6 years old doesn't stop with their questions. How it continues after the kid is back in the future is up to you babe!
#obey me#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me lucifer#obey me shall we date#obey me satan#obey me luci x reader#obey me beelzebub#obey me!#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me belphegor#obey me belphie#obey me x gender neutral reader#obey me x reader#obey me x you#obey me x y/n#obey me hcs#obey me brothers#obey me swd#omswd#swd obey me
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Hello, everyone from Yuumori fandom.
Guess what, because of Concert that will be held in July all parts of Moriarty the Patriot Musical (op1-op5) are available to rent and watch online. With my Morimu fanarts or other talks about it I often get asked where you can watch it, often my answer is that you have to buy DVD or Bluray to watch this wonderful adaptation of Moriarty the Patriot manga. I know it's a big cost and hard to get for some so Streaming like this is a great opportunity to watch Morimu.
Official twitter posted few days ago about this possibility and here is the post with all information about it:
1600 yen is great amount to check if you will like it and wach it because I think it's worth any money, director who made morimu clearly loves manga, he treats source material with care and even makes it batter at some times, there is also a lot less cuts than in anime, like a lot. May be little spoiler or not, but Baskerville arc is there and Durham date too, as well as many Sherlock and John stuff that was cut in anime, some things from Moran arc etc. this is already big selling factor, right?
Actors are amazing and they love and care for characters they play. I wasn't into any actor adaptations before Morimu, I was ok with musicals but not caring too much about them and Morimu sold me since first part and it only got better and better each part even if you think that's not possible. Songs are there to make emotions and moments deeper or to have real fun with plot they show, they are not there just for song to be there. So yes high recommendation for you all to check Morimu if you didn't saw it yet. The most amazing thing is that you don't need VPN to buy those streams.
I was going to write about this few days ago and was busy, good I didn't because I talked with friends in Yuumori fandom who knows morimu and we were troubled to recommend this stream to people who doesn't understand Japanese. Morimu is faithful adaptation so almost like 70% lines comes from manga and you should understand what's going on if you read manga. Still, with subs it's a lot easier.
Kana did amazing job in creating English translation for Morimu Op1-Op4 at this point, all who bought DVD/Bluray versions of Morimu are using those subs and if you decide to buy own copy after seeing stream then those subs works great with DVD/Bluray versions.
So we talked over the stream matter and from what we checked with this plugin to Chrome it's possible to play subs with Morimu stream after you rent it (It works only with Chrome but if you know other program like this you can try it on different browsers, we only checked Chrome and this plugin) :
The only matter is that Kana saved subtitles in .ass file format, but you can easily format them to .srt file format that this plugin plays with this site:
You just open subtitle file and save it as srt, and open it with plugin to your Morimu stream. If you will have any more problems with subs them write me a message and I will try to help as soon as work let's me.
I think this is the easiest option that creators gave us now to watch Morimu, it was never so easy to buy or rent it until now, you had to use crazy VPN programs and other stuff to just check on it. So this is best option since for sure it won't last forever. Such promotional streamings are only around when new part is coming up, currently Concert I mentioned.
So for other things I wanna to say. If you get your copy of Morimu then please don't share it, don't post it to any social sites. Company that makes Morimu is quite strict with that matter and they do search who uploads those musicals and strikes them down/ deletes files even on places like google drive. Even without it, it's a matter of love for Moriarty the patriot. As much as fandom wants more people to watch those musicals, any piracy might destroy our chances to get Op6, possibilities for future streams and other stuff. Currently with Op5 we reached end of Final Problem arc and there is hope that maybe one day New York arc will be done in op6. Any piracy, sharing and messy stuff might destroy such chance, so please if you hold dear MTP then respect those rules. Watching streams with your friends in closed groups after you buy it isn't bad but please hold from any public sharing (they would be taken down anyway, but it would still put us fans in very bad light).
I know end of this post was not nice but it had to be told. I hope this possibility will help you see Morimu and fall in love with it like I did. I would recommend at least seeing OP1 and OP2, it should hook you and OP3 is where everything hits even more than op1-2, more hits from songs, more hits from sherliam stuff.
Hope to see you in Morimu cult :D... ehem... fandom. May you have "wind" (for some Great Detective) in your heart like William....
youtube
#moriarty the patriot#william james moriarty#yuumori#yuukoku no moriarty#sherlock holmes#albert james moriarty#louis james moriarty#sherliam#morimu#morimyu#Youtube
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wip wednesday
i was tagged by @glorious-spoon thank you!! 🥰 here's 400ish words of an early-relationship kink discovery fic that i'm meanderingly working on to be posted at some vague point in the future lol
(veering toward explicit near the end)
The call is routine to the point of being a little boring: a woman who passed out from a blood sugar issue after she tied her husband to the bed. They resuscitate her, cut him loose, and stop for a grocery run on the way back to the station.
Easy. A typical Tuesday.
Honestly, a quarter of the calls they get some days are because someone got in over their head with a weird sex thing and needed to be rescued, and ninety nine times out of a hundred, Eddie never even thinks about them again. It’s just part of the job.
Except – this time.
This time, though, he can’t get it out of his head.
Bobby’s making dinner, and Eddie feels his face heat as he watches him truss the chicken.
Ravi’s practicing knots on a length of rappel cord, and Eddie has to go sit on the other side of the room.
Buck’s being… Buck, bouncing off the walls and stretching everyone to the brink of their last nerve, and someone makes a joke about maybe we should just tie you up one of these days, keep you out of the way, and it’s –
It’s not pointed. It’s not Diaz, come get your boy, but that’s what he hears anyway, and he has to excuse himself, close the door behind him and hope no one tries to follow.
It’s kind of a dick move, getting off in the bunks like this. It’s a shared space, and they all try not to do it. They all try not to notice when someone does do it, but – he can’t help it.
The idea of that, of tying Buck up like a roast chicken, patterns of rope interlocking on his skin, the strain in his muscles and the way he’d go soft and hazy, maybe, eyes unfocused like he did that one time they were fucking long and slow in the limbo hours of a Saturday morning when Chris might have been asleep or might have been up looking for breakfast, and Buck wouldn’t shut up, and Eddie had pressed a hand over his mouth, caught both his wrists in the other and held them up over his head. He’d gone slack and easy, pliant in a way Eddie’s never seen him before, and he’d let out this breathy little sound against Eddie’s palm, and – and –
😇 okay, trying to remember who actually go here since I'm still new in this fandom lol @hbyrde36 @theheadlessphilosopher @miraculousmultifan @tevankinkley @buckboi @theweewooshow @urmomsonfire
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You ain't wrong about fndm's lady/dude crit imbalance. I've noticed so much whataboutism & overlapping insistence that Oz/Qrow/Tai did their absolute best given [magic special forces duties], [hell world full of hell beasts] and/or [Salem/Raven's Selfish Dippage/Supermom's Loss], often with a side of 'you're just being blinkered stans who can't accept when ur waifu mains have flaws that need a-fixin' or should Get Over Themselves & Stick With The Program'. I mean, no denying the STRQ guys would be leagues less dysfunctional were it not for their situation's unique pressures and the immortals' contributions thereof (ditto for Ozlem thanks to the Bros), but I still don't think that causality chain fully corroborates this 'naught but vindicated put-upon sensei figures, the Bad Moms Doing Badness exonerate everything, it's Just How This World Works, we've been over this, STFU already' perspective nursed by long-haul fanposters and tons of general watchers.
truly. although i will say i Don’t think it’s fair to judge qrow as a parent because he wasn’t one, in either the biological sense (uncle) or legal (did not have custody) or familial (not a member of the household). so while certainly there are things he could have done better (gotten sober) (quit taking missions from oz for the sake of being around more to help out) (confronted tai about the wagon incident—tho we don’t know he didn’t do that tbf) short of either moving in to take over parenting or like flat out getting whatever passes for child services involved to force tai to get help or foster the girls himself for a while qrow didn’t really have a lot of material power in this situation. & both options he did have posed real risks (misfortune + the compounding trauma of a messy custody fight while everyone was still grieving summer). so
but yeah what gets me is "they really did try their best" and "their best was in fact inadequate and caused lasting harm" are not incompatible statements. Sometimes Your Best Sucks. that’s life. & sometimes when you’re deep in the throes of a traumatic situation or a depressive episode or alcoholism or what the fuck ever You Will Hurt People because you Don’t have the capacity to support others or practice empathy; you can’t draw from an empty well. that’s life!
it’s just also where the "intentions don’t negate consequences" principle applies; qrow trying to Be There for his nieces whilst struggling with alcoholism doesn’t make the harm done by his alcoholic behavior not have happened, tai’s depression doesn’t make neglect not neglectful, salem… existing at all doesn’t justify the choice to rely almost solely on child soldiers to defend his relics. etc
this is also the most compelling thing to me abt tai (potentially) staying near vale because of summer, at the expense of his kids; as soon as you bring "summer is alive and well and chose to leave him" into this equation you bring the implicit blame to the surface: is this woman responsible for his actions because she chose to end their relationship?
consider that the one thing we know with 100% certainty about these two is that summer did not trust him with her real self; her reaction to hearing him down the stairs is.
this, followed by slipping on a mask and lying through her teeth with practiced ease. (in comparison, when ruby is feeling acutely distressed she shuts down and gets quiet, which has the effect of making her distress visible but also small and easy to ignore or easily shunted aside by louder more apparently urgent problems. ruby tries to put on a happy face most of the time, but when she’s Feeling Bad the best she can do is small, strained smiles. summer turns around with a relaxed grin and makes a casual joke at ozpin’s expense.)
so—yang remembers "supermom" and ruby thinks her dad "misses adventuring with [summer]" and for eight volumes there isn’t anything to contradict this impression the girls have that their parents were deeply in love and happy with each other… and then our introduction to the Real Summer Rose is:
reading bedtime stories to her girls
the lies come out of her so easily!
she planned her rogue mission in secret with raven, who also left tai for hitherto unknown reasons that are now strongly implied to be that she felt like a failure as a wife and mother.
leaving aside the question of why summer chose to join salem (and why she faked her own death to do it)… this does not imply a happy or functional relationship. if nothing else whatever problem summer had that drove her to plan this suicide mission with raven was something that she, for whatever reason, did not feel like she could bring to her spouse/partner—and that in itself speaks to a fundamental absence of trust, but taken in conjunction with a) this Extremely well-practiced emotional disappearing act and b) how tai handles emotional vulnerability in v4 (NOT WELL!) it’s kinda…
well. the blacksmith shows this to ruby then remarks "maybe you’re not the only one who has felt the weight of others’ expectations. like alyx, like your mother," and the only character summer performs for in this flashback is. tai.
and—while the silver eyed warrior paragon-hero fairytale cult nonsense was undoubtedly the greater burden—i think the narrative is inviting the question here of to what extent perfect mother/perfect wife was one of those expectations, to what extent Raven Leaving was a shadow cast over summer’s relationship with taiyang, and how she might feel about all this with fourteen years of hindsight.
wrapping back around to the point about tai and culpability, you have on the one hand this implicit blame put on summer for tai having neglected the children after she left him and on the other this nascent question rising to the surface of: was summer even happy in this relationship, if she felt like she had to perform happiness often enough for it to be this easy? there’s the asterisk of course that what we see in this flashback was outside of the ordinary but the ease and confidence with which she slips on that mask bespeaks habit.
so tai fourteen years later is still pining for this partnership in which summer may or may not have felt an expectation to Be Happy (perfect huntress, perfect mother, perfect wife) and in which she certainly did not feel like she could bring her Desperate Suicide Mission Problems to her partner… and his parental neglect is all rooted directly in the intensity of his anguish after she left him… and she’s spent those fourteen years with salem and if they’ve not already crossed paths offscreen they’re certain to do so now that tai is like alone on patch with salem / summer / cinder for neighbors.
there’s an interesting reckoning being set up here, i think, with the unspoken implication that summer was the load-bearing pillar in this family and by removing herself from it she Made tai into a neglectful father—that’s the family narrative, dad shut down after mom left (died), but the narrative arc is beginning to culminate with "okay, why did mom leave?" and it seems to me that the natural trajectory from there is to really interrogate that question of blame.
#i am rly curious to see how summer feels abt tai these days#because it doesn’t… feel like… there’s a trajectory here toward (romantic) reconciliation. and that’s rly interesting#the fandom will of course be ridiculous about it but what else is new.
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Apocalypse au
Mcd (ghost)
imagine the sweet pungent horrid smell of rot taking over the world. The decay works slowly but the infection is quick. Zombie are fast, too fast, no longer hindered by the brain. They're disfigured by snapped tendons and ligaments. The sounds they make are near intelligible but now quite. Hoards are easy to avoid if you know where to look for them, but it's even easier to chased into one while escaping a straggler
Imagine ghost getting cornered. Having to stave them off for as long as he can with a quickly dulling knife as he stabs it through skull bone over and over again "killing" them one once they've gone useless, but they never die. Not truely.
Imagine the kind of sick he feels in his stomach when he grips one by the side of the head to stab into it's face, and the flesh gives with only the ease of rotting flesh. He remembers what that's like. Too well. He drops the head and the body falls but it's not dead, he knows it isn't. There's festering rot sticking to his fingers. But they're swarming him now and it's all he can do but give it a passing panicked thought while he tries to survive. The subtle crunch of bones weakened and brittle from rot in a way that rings in his ears and it'll haunt him even in death.
Soap only notified of the incident hours later. Hours too late. But he rushes to the scene anyway. There still a chance that he made it. He's strong. He could make it. But soap wasn't there. He doesn't know how bad it was.
The scene from the heli above is almost poetic. One lone wandering zombie. Trapped in a cell created by the bodies of its now brethren. It wails and cries. Soap swears if he could just listen better he could tell what it was saying. But that's what everyone says. It looks... Almost alive, but it isn't. They always look like that when They're fresh. With time Ghost will rot. He's become the very thing that gave him nightmares. And soap couldn't stop it. Can't stop it.
Imagine years later when the panic has dissipated, zombie are not new anymore, only a mere fact of life. Soap finds himself at an empty beach. Water, sticky with salt and sand, laps at the toe of his boots. The military is back up and running last he heard, but that's a past better left to the younger him. He toes off his footwear and rolled up the cuff of his jeans. He still talks to Price and Gaz.. or- more probably talked. His feet sink into the water-soft sand where he stands. Last he heard they were sent on an OP for some special top secret mission that he wasn't allowed to know about now that he's out, they were supposed to be back weeks ago, Gaz should have contacted him by now. He takes a ddep breath of fresh salt air and starts down the beach at a leisure pace. It's sad but he almost can't make himself feel anything for it. He remembers he'd promised to take Ghost to the beach some day. He wishes he could have. He still could technically. But he doesn't think he can get him all the way here before turning. Not without a bird. Which he's long since lost access to.
#tw mcd#major character death#apocalypse au#el rambles#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#ghostsoap#soapghost#call of duty#cod#cod mw2
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Hello!
I was wondering if you have any fics about jesus and the second coming so a continuation of season 2!
Ive been trying find a tag for it but I cant fine any unfortunately
Thank you!
Hi! Tags on ao3 I'd suggest are The Second Coming (Good Omens) and Jesus (Good Omens). We also have series three speculation fics here. Here are some more fics for you...
Fallen from the sky-The Second Coming by Bucky1984 (M)
After the abandonment of Aziraphale, Crowley struggles to reinvent himself and finds comfort in the daily lives of the inhabitants of Soho... Meanwhile, the new Supreme Archangel has been entrusted with the new phase of the Great Divine Plan! Determined to use his new influence to save humanity from the worst, Aziraphale is torn between trust and conscience.
When Good and Evil become diluted, there is no longer black or white. Only grey remains...
Once for the Devil, Once for Christ by Eighty_Sixed (G)
During the Second Coming, Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves on opposite sides. Meanwhile, the newly returned Jesus Christ isn't quite what everyone expected.
Falling with Style by NooRose93 (E)
Aziraphale is having a difficult enough time averting the second coming without an amnesiac demon to look after, thank you very much. Crowley has always been the one to rescue Aziraphale, will Aziraphale be able to save Crowley's memories before the end of the world?
I am with you always, to the very end of the age. by garlicpasta (NR)
Then will appear in heaven the sign of the Son of Man, and then all the tribes of the earth will mourn, and they will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. And he will send out his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other.
Or maybe not.
Aziraphale and Crowley get together after they last saw each other to save the world once more. But working together won’t be easy if they don't stop arguing every five seconds.
Will Muriel and Jesus Christ be able to save their marriage, I mean, the world?
Saving the world was never this fun! –Muriel
I just want to get over with this already so I can see Hozier live. –Jesus
I think everyone should just die. –Michael
Demiurge by PanderrynRose (E)
As the dust settles, Crowley drives. Away. Away from everything. He can't stay, not now. Not when warm memories have frozen into icy shards that shred his heart and lungs every time he sees something that reminds him of everything he's lost. But just as he can't stay, he also can't stay away from those who need or ask for his help. Earth--for all intents and purposes--is his home. And he can't leave the planet to the whims of the same bureaucracy and being that harmed him.
From Foxclere (with love?) by Bohemia (T)
There, in the small space between the dessert bowl and Crowley’s coffee saucer, was a partial map of the cosmos, rendered delicately in Châteauneuf-du-Pape.
“How’s your mythology these days?” Crowley asked, head bent down, keeping the conservation cloistered without any need for a miracle.
“As good as it always was, thank you,” Aziraphale replied primly.
----------
Wherein Crowley restores himself to the Court of Hell, Aziraphale just wants to Do The Right Thing, and they are still very firmly Not Talking.
An imaginary Season 3, featuring terrible choices, heartbreak, ridiculous situations, Jane Austen, Greek Mythology, a hefty dose of plot, and perhaps a long overdue Conversation.
- Mod D
#good omens#good omens s2#good omens s3 speculation#the second coming (good omens)#jesus (good omens)#mod d
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Cw: degradation, weight gain, health snark, force feeding
“Hey, can we talk to you for a minute?” your roommates Ashley said. You two, as well as two other friends from high school all lived together in a rental house near campus. She seemed like she was irritated, which was concerning. When she was in a good mood, she was the most fun to be around, but she could be a real bitch when she was mad. You finished chewing your burger and wiped your hands before replying.
“Yeah, of course. What’s up?”
“Have you been doing okay lately?”
“Yeah, I’ve been great actually. I feel better than I have in a long time,” you replied. You knew what this was about but you had to feign ignorance as long as you could.
“We just…noticed a few changes in your behavior lately and a few of the other girls were getting concerned. That’s all.” She wasn’t budging. You needed to get out of this quick.
“Thank you for checking on me, but I’m fine.” She rolled her eyes. There wasn’t going to be an easy way out of this.
“Oh really, then what’s going on here.” She said pinching your new chubby belly that was poking out the bottom of your crop top. “If nothing is going on, how the FUCK do you gain 20 pounds in a month? How is that even possible?”
Your face flushed bright red. You knew the day would come when people started to notice how much weight you've gained, but you didn’t expect it to turn you on so much. You needed to think of something fast but it was hard to think with how flustered you are.
“I..I don’t know…I’ve just..”
“Just what? Smoking weed all day and eating fast food like a little piggy? I bet all that weed made you so stupid you didn’t even know you turned yourself into a fatass. Honestly, it’s incredible how fat you’ve gotten. It’s like you want to ruin your body.”
You couldn’t keep it in anymore. The degradation was too hot for you to control yourself. It was just a whimper, not even a full moan, but it didn’t slip past Ashley. She stopped what she was saying dead in its tracks.
“Oh my God, this is turning you on isn’t it? You’re one of those freaks that gets off on being fat!” She smirked at you, “Look at you, you’re quivering you’re so turned on right now. God, that’s so embarrassing. Serves you right for being such a fucking fat weirdo.”
She grabbed the burger you were eating from out of your lap.
“You know, I should take this away from you, it would be for your own good. But since you want to be a fucking freak so bad,” she said shoving the burger in your mouth. “Eat up piggy. I’m going to tell everyone how badly you want to be a fatass waddling around campus. That’s why you stopped going to the gym and started eating junk food all the time. Not because you're stressed or depressed like everyone thought. Because you’re too fucking horny to control yourself”
//sorry this is kinda incomplete. I wasn't sure where to go next. If you want me to expand on this story, let me know.
#wg fiction#wg text#feeding kink#wg fantasy#wg encouragement#trans feedist#gaining weight on purpose#evil feeder#degrading k1nk
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