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#risky click of the day
midnightmoonbeams · 5 months
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I am scared to enter that into my browser. But I do agree with AJtheDonut: Ink the corners!!!
From September 26th, 2022
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billhawks · 1 year
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bigtittybill I did it I made the sideblog I posted you
Hmm.
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nachosncheeze · 1 year
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You know what? Fuck it. I'm gonna risk it.
BUT I'm gonna split my thoughts into two posts, so those who really don't want to hear about a certain character can skip this post and go to the next. So I present...
3x20 Thoughts (Averwho? Edition)
This episode is great.
I'll be honest, I was a bit nervous taking on Avery in gif form. I'm not even sure about posting some of these thoughts! There was a lot of her to cover in this episode, and I did, but I know she's not particularly popular. So thanks for indulging me.
WHY I wanted to do it: Part of it was that what I've found in the archives for the last few episodes has been almost entirely Jeller, and I wanted to do some gifs, but didn't want to repeat what others have done more skillfully than I can. But apart from that, I like what Avery has to offer from a story perspective. Not as a "making them parents" thing, because I'll be candid, I don't really see Jane as much of a natural mother-figure. I've just never found much personal satisfaction in a traditional domestic scenario involving her, as adorably fluffy as those scenarios might be. (No hate or judgment of those who dig it, though, to be clear. It's just not my thing.) Jane is maybe more of a big sister or overprotective aunt type in my head. That said, I also fully buy that whatever kids she oopsies into, she would (and does) love them completely, try her best as a mum, grow into it to some extent, and be fierce as fuck in the process. Think "the Jane we know and love (including all the season 1-style awkwardness), but on steroids." In that context, I love Avery at the very least as a means to explore that concept a little bit. I have a lot of little stories in my head that involve her, especially in season 4 and post-canon.
Back on track a little bit more to this episode: I also like that she serves as a really angsty counterpoint to the collapse of relations with Roman, and I wish I had more time to explore that in gif form. It gets me every time, the way Jane increases her bond with Avery as she dismantles her options with Roman, in inverse proportion, and often using very similar language. Take the moment at the end of this episode - "Thanks for not giving up on me."/"Never. We're family." - Avery was THERE IN THE ROOM when Jane said pretty much the opposite to Roman at the gala. Right then, Jane stated in pretty harsh terms that 'never' and 'family' are relative. Avery has her own reasons to be pissed at Roman - 6 months captive on a farm, anyone? - but I wonder if she has any thoughts about that.
The family interactions between Jeller and Avery run the gamut from panic and bewilderment (as they deal with a moody teenager at the start) to bittersweet and angsty (as Jane gets a glimpse into what she missed in Avery's childhood - and side note, bravo as always to Jaimie, because she plays those microexpressions around bittersweet wistfulness so well) to Avery finally accepting a hug, which is SUCH a contrast to the last time Jane talked her down, when she held Jane herself at gunpoint back in Berlin. Both times Avery was crying by the end, and both times Jane said "It's okay," but there's been growth. Anyway, this might be the one time we really get to see anything resembling a "day in the life of the Doe-Weller family" on screen, and I love that they managed to do it without losing the essence of Kurt and Jane themselves, because what would a day in the life of Jeller be without a foot chase, shootout, or hostage situation? Bonus in this case: we got all three. xD
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madamepestilence · 3 months
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Just as a reminder as I've just noticed myself - arab.org has more pages to support on
In case you're unfamiliar with how this site works, it confirms ad revenue via your clicks, which allows them to donate money to various funds
These go to:
Children -> UNICEF (United Nations International Children's Emergency Fund)
Fight Poverty -> UNDP (United Nations Development Programme)
Environment -> Greenpeace MENA (Middle East and North Africa)
Palestine -> UNRWA (United Nations Relief and Works Agency [for Palestine Refugees in the Near East])
Refugees -> UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees)
Women -> UN Women
Do more with your daily clicks! You can help each one once per individual (perhaps per IP address?) per day, letting you help out with six things at once?
US-specific advice for helping Palestine below cut.
Side note I'm keeping beneath the cut since it's relevant to US folks only: if you're really determined to help Palestine, vote for Dr. Cornel West, Ph.D. for President of the United States.
He's the most openly vocal about a free Palestine and is the only candidate who has demonstrably shown he is the most committed and prepared to immediately cease US support to Israel.
Joe Biden isn't going to cave if he gets re-elected. We all know that. Voting third party is a lot less risky than you've been taught - the two party system can replace one or both parties with new parties if they lose public favour.
We have both the people and the ability to unseat the Democratic party and install Socialism, and between Socialism and Republicans, Socialism is going to lock in place immediately and become the dominant political force in America.
Cornel West's Platform
Cornel West's Volunteer Events
Cornel West's Ballot Access Tracker and Ballot Access Plans
Tumblr thread I have of Primary/Caucus polling dates in the US (includes US territories)
Not on your Primary/Caucus ballot? Write-in, "Cornel West," on your ballot, or urge your Caucus representatives to do the same.
In a state where it's difficult for Independent candidates to get ballot access? Dr. Cornel West, Ph.D. thought ahead and has created a new party for those states called the Justice for All Party.
(Addendum: Claudia de la Cruz is not a viable alternative. The Party for Socialism and Liberation has a Conservative 5th Column and has frequent issues with discrimination.)
Free Palestine. Vote for Cornel West.
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lavnderwonu · 3 months
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the boy next door | jeon wonwoo
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pairing: idol!boyfriend!wonwoo x fem!reader
genre: secret relationship, established relationship, smut
summary: sneaking around with your secret boyfriend.
warnings: smut (!!!), little plot lol, wonwoo as your secret boyfriend, softdom! wonwoo, wonwoo is hot (yes that's a warning), mirror sex (kinda?), pet names (baby), praise kink, size kink AHEM, clitoral stimulation, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, reader has to be quiet, hint at another round.
word count: 1.9k
author’s note!: when i tell you this concept has been on my mind for weeks... i'm not lying. the wonwoo brainrot was hitting HARD when i was writing this. i was originally going to make it a secret situationship but im a #1 hater of that whole thing so relationship it is. plus i just think it'd be hot. who wouldn't want wonu as their secret boyfriend? anyway, let me know what you think, i appreciate feedback! 🩷
click here to join my taglist!
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Your phone buzzes on your nightstand as you’re in your bathroom, going through your night time routine, just like any other night. As soon as you make it to your phone, it’s stopped ringing. Unlocking it, you see a notification.
Wonwoo
Missed Call
Your boyfriend. Well, only you knew he was your boyfriend, anyway. Although you’d be lying if you never posted any “soft launches” of you two, whether it was an extra iced americano on your counter, or a very obvious mystery man driving while you sat in the passenger seat.
Before you can even call him back, he’s already texting you.
Wonwoo: are you awake? Wonwoo: i saw your story earlier. you looked nice.
You went out earlier in the day to run your usual errands, which usually consisted of shopping of some sort, then wandering around a bookstore. You threw on a cute floral mini dress, and for good measure, you promptly decided to take a picture in your full-body mirror hoping a certain someone would see.
You laugh to yourself, typing out a reply.
you liked it? well you’re too late. i’m in my pajamas now.
It was only 11:30 pm, so maybe it was a tad early for pajamas for some. But for all you know he was probably in sweats playing some game on his phone or reading a book.
Wonwoo: i don’t care, you always look pretty baby Wonwoo: come over here
He lived down the hall from you, with his roommate and best friend, Mingyu. His apartment was easy access, but pretty risky if Mingyu was there, so usually Wonwoo would just come over to yours.
You're about to ask is mingyu there? until he answers the question before you even finish typing.
Wonwoo: mingyu’s gone
You bite your lip, typing a reply. Fuck, you can’t say no.
on my way
You toss your phone on your bed, quite literally, quickly getting yourself ready, you decide to put on your favorite lavender-colored bra and matching panties underneath your pajamas you already had on. Your favorite color; and a different variation of his.
Going down the hall from your apartment, you reach his door, quickly knocking a few times before he answers.
“I thought you were joking when you said you were in pajamas,” Wonwoo jokes, examining you as you walk in. “You were serious.”
“Shut up, it was getting late.” You blush, as you damn near fight the urge to jump him, cause damn. He looks too good, even in a hoodie and sweatpants.
“You look cute,” He pulls you close to him, his fingers sliding underneath your shirt to grip your waist. “Can’t wait to take them off…”
You lean into him, fingers lightly threading through his hair that’s gotten so much longer recently.
“How much time do we have?”
“Hours.” Wonwoo responds, confident. “Mingyu said he was going out with Jungkook, they’ll probably be out half the night drinking.”
His hands slowly slide up your back, sending your heart thrumming in your chest, you’re unable to deny the effect he has on you.
You both know you’d eventually have to go public with your relationship, but for now, you’d just enjoy the adrenaline rush you get everytime you’re alone together.
You make it to his bedroom, in a heated kiss, you back away to safely removing his glasses and placing them on his nightstand.
Kneeling on his bed in front of him, you quickly tug at the hoodie he has on. “Off.” You order him, and he obeys, pulling it over his head.
He tosses to the floor, before kissing you again, his hands slide up your shirt, groping your breasts lightly through your bra, making you softly moan against his lips. He breaks the kiss and his lips softly trail along the corner of your lips, to your jaw, and onward.
You begin working on unbuttoning your silky pajama shirt as Wonwoo trails wet kisses down your neck. His hands take over, effortlessly unbuttoning it. Your eyes glance over to the mirror on the wall, giving you a full view of you kneeling on his bed and him towering over you.
He slips your shirt off your shoulders, and his eyes briefly follow your gaze, realizing what you’re looking at.
“Are you watching yourself in the mirror?” Wonwoo says into your ear, giving you chills.
“Uh-huh.” Your breath shaky as you reply, nodding.
“Turn around.” He suddenly demands, kissing behind your ear before you turn around, your back now facing him.
Wonwoo wraps one arm around your torso, holding you against his sturdy chest. His hand lightly touches your chin, turning you to face the mirror again.
“Keep watching yourself, baby.”
You watch as his free hand slips underneath your pajama shorts, his fingers lightly ghosting over your clothed clit. You gasp as your hips jolt, desperately seeking out more friction.
“Wonwoo…” You gasp, gripping his arm tighter.
His hand slides underneath the elastic of your underwear, applying firm pressure as he circles your clit, before you feel his fingers slide down between your folds and he mutters a breathy fuck against your neck when he feels how wet you are already.
“You’re already dripping for me, baby.” Wonwoo says deeply, voice slightly muffled into your neck. “Couldn’t wait to see me, could you?”
He’s expecting an answer, and it’s impossibly hard now that he’s sliding two fingers inside you, expertly curling his fingers to find that special spot that you often couldn’t reach yourself.
“N-no, I couldn’t… thought about you all day.” You cry, nails digging into his forearm, and he’s seemingly unfazed by it. His fingers pound into your sweet spot, making your head fall back against his shoulder.
“Fuck, look at how pretty you look.” Wonwoo says, glancing at your reflection, your brows furrowed as you focus on the feeling of his fingers inside you.
“I’m so close…” You whine, turning to bury your face in his neck as you inhale the sweet scent of his cologne like you never want to forget it.
“I know, baby. You’re fucking squeezing my fingers.” Wonwoo grunts as your walls clench around his fingers. “Let it go, I got you.”
Your legs shake as you grip onto his forearm for dear life, desperate for something to hold onto. A cry of his name leaves your lips as you cum, your heart racing, panting trying to catch your breath.
“That’s my girl.” Wonwoo turns to kiss your forehead gently, his fingers slip from your dripping center, brushing your clit one last time and the friction is enough to make you wince.
He releases his hold on you, and you turn around to face him, kissing him needily. “Fuck me,” You whisper against his lips. “I need you.”
“So needy…” Wonwoo playfully mocks you, suddenly turning into his unintentionally adorable self, as if he didn’t just pull a powerful orgasm out of you moments ago. “Don’t I at least get to enjoy this cute little set you wore for me?” He pulls off your shirt, even though it was already damn near falling off anyway.
You blush, kissing him again.
“We don’t have time for that.” You chuckle, already feeling somewhat anxious that Mingyu is going to walk into the apartment at any second.
Wonwoo can read you like a book, and he notices right away. “Hey, there’s no rush.” He says gently, as his hands reach behind you to unhook your bra.
You slide it off the rest of the way, then toss it on the floor. “I know, I’m just enjoying this. I don’t want to be interrupted.” You drape your arms over his shoulders as you press your body against him, kissing him fervently. You moan against his lips as you feel his hard cock pressing against you.
You slide your hands down his chest, reaching to loop your fingertips into the waistband of his sweatpants. “Take these off, baby.” You whisper as you kiss his along jaw a few times, before you grope his length through them for emphasis. “Please.”
Wonwoo gently nudges you to fall back on his bed, and you sit up on your elbows, eagerly watching him as he obeys you, taking them off. “Better?” His gaze meets yours as you look him over.
You eagerly nod, lifting your hips for him as he rids you of your pajama shorts you still had on, along with your soaking wet underwear.
“How do you want it, baby?” Wonwoo huskily asks you, removing his underwear. He curses under his breath as he watches you bend your knees and spread your legs apart, allowing him full access to you.
You gasp as you feel him suddenly pull you further down on his bed, quickly followed by a whine as you feel the weight of his cock on your clit. You sit up on your elbows to see him dragging his cock through your folds, coating himself in your wetness.
Both of you can only watch, breathing heavily.
“Wonwoo…” You whine his name, gripping the sheets beneath you as the tip of his cock bumps you clit again. You both watch as he lines himself up with your entrance, finally pushing inside you.
“Look at that.” Wonwoo grunts, watching you take every inch, feeling your walls stretch to accommodate him.
“Fuck…” You throw your head back, a soft moan falling from your lips as you feel so full. “You’re too big…”
“You take me so well…look at you.” Wonwoo praises you, as his hands come up to gently stroke your inner thighs, and it’s enough to get you to relax. “You okay?”
You nod, “Yeah, you can move. Please.”
He starts to pound into you at a steady pace, making you grab onto his shoulders for something to hold onto. Your nails dig into his skin as he drives his cock into your sweet spot over and over.
You let out a sob of a moan, and Wonwoo thinks it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard.
“God, you sound so pretty,” He moans, “Crying for me…”
“I’m not gonna last long.” You whine, your walls already clenching around him.
Your heart nearly stops in your chest when suddenly you hear the front door to the apartment open, then hear Mingyu enter.
You gasp, and Wonwoo quickly shushes you.
“Relax, he’s not going to come in here, he probably thinks I left.” He whispers, all the while he hasn’t stopped fucking you.
“Can you be quiet?”
You can barely find the words to speak, your brain too focused on the feeling of his cock inside you.
“Answer me.”
You frantically nod, and that’s about all you can muster the strength to do. Your walls clench around him and he knows you’re close.
“Shit, I’m gonna come…” You softly moan, as quiet as you can, then you feel his hand cover your mouth, muffling your cries as your walls squeeze his cock hard, but he keeps fucking you through your high.
He keeps going until he’s coming too, groaning into your neck as you feel his cock nearly throbbing as he releases inside of you.
“Fuck…” Wonwoo sighs, as you both are catching your breath. “That wasn’t how that was supposed to happen.” You both smile bashfully at each other.
You gently thread your fingers through his hair, pushing it back off his forehand.
“That’s okay, we can sneak over to my place… we won’t have to be quiet.”
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tags: @dearlyjun @cosmojinyoung
some others i couldn’t tag! 💔
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asuyaka · 7 months
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Gojo-Sensei has a husband?!
★ - drabble s part of m' first Satoru oneshot !!૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
☆ - Gojo Satoru x Househusband! Reader
♡ - f m' manga readers, how we feelin' 'bout nurse kenny ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ (she's m wife m callin' it rn!!)
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Gojo [Name], the loved and unknown husband of The Strongest, Gojo Satoru.
Satoru was at work, most likely teaching the first years he loved to talk about. You were at home. Cleaning the house and making preparations for dinner when Satoru got home like the good husband you were.
You brought out a chicken broth cube from the cupboard, brushing the slight dust on your pretty light-blue apron that Satoru brought for you (then ended up fucking you in but that's on days when you're being a brat).
Your eyes scan the countertop, looking for the knife holder until they land on a sage-green bag dusted with flowers that you hand-painted. It was Satoru's lunch bag that he had forgotten.
You weren't a sorcerer, but you're able to see curses. Ironically, that's how you and Satoru met. A younger you (who just got unemployed) was walking home when something you couldn't describe stopped you in the alleyway you took sometimes as a shortcut.
It was tall, with eyes running along its skinny, dark-red arm. You were only twenty-two at the time and have only ever seen things like that in shitty horror-flicks. You never thought they were real.
As if you were in a cliché love story, a patch of white hair stands in front of you. He has sunglasses on despite the sun being nowhere in sight.
Due to you being (obviously) weaker than the average sorcerer, Satoru always discouraged you from going to Jujutsu High unless it was an emergency.
You huff diligently, grabbing the lunch bag and putting your shoes on. You'll make sure Satoru gets his lunch. What kind of husband would you be if you didn't?
Turns out, the people at Jujutsu High are either scary or odd. There's absolutely no in-between.
You've only been at Jujutsu High a handful of times. More times than not, it was to help Megumi.
You make your way to the main school building, holding the bag close to your chest for safekeeping. You didn't bust your ass making cute shapes out of food just for Satoru to go eat fast food instead.
Reaching the door of Satoru's class, you knock softly. It’s quiet, and you guess Satoru must be out training with his students. You turned around to try and find just where the training grounds could be on this huge campus. 
All of a sudden, the door opens and there he is. Your beautiful husband, wearing his black blindfold and Jujutsu uniform. “Baby? What are you doing here?”
Baby. That’s right, you’re his baby. No one else's. “You left your lunch, so I…” Your voice trails off as you gesture toward the bag in your hands. Satoru smiles, opening the door wider and pulling you in.
He keeps your hands intertwined, softly pushing you against a chair. “You’re so nice, baby. Going out of your way to bring me my lunch?” His hands are on your cheeks now, still smiling sweetly even with a saccharine voice.
Your face flushes and your hands are stiff. You don’t know where his students are, but you’re sure they’ll be back soon. This is risky— irresponsible even. 
“Satoru, ‘s risky..” You mutter under your breath, your hands cupping his. They’re warm like they always are when you two are close. You wish you could see what his eyes looked like, but they’re for his comfortability, you’re aware.
“You know I love you, right baby?” He leans closer, to the point you can smell the cologne on him. It’s the one you bought him a few weeks ago because it smelt like home. 
Satoru smells like home.
Shakily you nod. “Are you sure this is safe…? I don’t want you—”
“Shh… let me worry about all that.”
And with that, he closes the space between your lips. Satoru’s strong– dominant even; and no matter what he does, it always manages to show through his actions.
His tongue breaches past your lips, slotting perfectly against yours. You can hear the clicking of teeth as Satoru sits across your lap. It’s hot and you can feel your cock start to rise in your pants. 
“Wore this cute fuckin’ apron all f’me–” He plants a kiss on your cheek, your face flushed and breathing heaved.
“Satoru– sir, I need—”
“But baby…” He whines.
He fucking whines.
His face is pouty and it looks like he’s getting off your lap. Is he denying you? You haven’t done anythin’ wrong– did he give you instructions and you didn’t see them?
“I’m at work, and as much as I want to fuck you ‘till you can’t think– you can’t have my students seein’ you all messed up like that, can you?”
Satoru’s words bring your attention to your appearance. Your apron is messed up and so is your hair (most likely from Satoru gripping on it). Your lips are slightly swollen and your cock is half-hard.
Embarrassment brings you back to your senses, your arms covering what's between your thighs. If you stood up, your apron would cover it (hopefully), but your pants weren’t going to do you any justice. “‘M sorry ‘toru…”
Satoru cocks his head, sitting on his desk and crossing his legs. “It’s okay baby, I know you just can’t help yourself when I’m around.” His tone sounds mean like he’s mocking you. It’s condescending.
“But that’s what makes you my good boy, isn’t it?” His foot brings the chair closer to the point where your body is sandwiched between his legs. “Always so plaint f’me to fuck you, right?”
God. You can’t do this, and it isn’t helping your slowly growing problem go down.
Satoru must sense your nervousness (he knows you and your emotions like the back of your hand) because his expression turns soft again. “Just wait till I get home, okay baby? Relax for me.”
His fingers caress your cheek gently. It’s lulling you, pulling you in. Like he’s a siren, and you’re a plaint, very easy sailor.
You nod because you’re his good boy and you want it to stay that way.
Satoru smiles before pulling you in again for a kiss.
It’s gentler this time. There’s less kiss and more gentleness behind it. It feels like the kiss you shared at the altar. It makes you calmer, it makes you happy.
All of a sudden, the door slams open. Revealing three, very surprised teenagers.
“Gojo-sensei!?”
“Gojo-san?”
Satoru breaks the kiss, briefly smiling coyly at you before looking at his students. “Hello, my favorite first-years! I didn’t know lunch had already ended…”
A boy with pink hair and what seems to be two sets of eyes stares at you, then back at Satoru. “Lunch ended five minutes ago. Nobara stayed to eat more watermelon.”
The girl, who is shorter than all of them and who you assume is Nobara, kicks the boy in the knee. “Shut it Yuuji! Not my fault somebody decided to eat all my food while I was gone!”
“Gojo-san, I thought you’d be at home.”Megumi looks at you with a confused expression. Your heart tugs in fondness when he says ‘home’ like all three of you share it together (legally, you do but Megumi would never admit that).
“Why would Gojo-sensei be at home? He has to teach us, stupid.” Nobara rolls her eyes, before pointing at you accusingly. 
“All I wanna know is why this random man and Gojo-sensei were kissing!”
Satoru steps off the desk, grabs your arm, and pulls you up as well. He slings his arm around your shoulder, slightly leaning on you with a bright smile on his face. “Yuuji, Nobara, this is my husband, [Name]!”
“Husband?!” Yuuji and Nobara parrot, staring at each other before staring back at you. 
Nobara notices it first, the sleek ring on your finger. There’s an initial that she can’t make out but can only assume it’s the one that belongs to her teacher.
“Why would anyone date you?” She says suddenly, causing Yuuji to laugh.
Megumi rolls his eyes. “I thought that at first too. Gojo-san is too good for him.”
Satoru gasps. “Rude! You cried during our wedding, or do I have to ask [Name] to pull up the photos?”
“Wedding?! Why wasn’t I invited?” Nobara looks at Satoru like he committed a war crime. 
You don’t notice it, but somehow Yuuji is right in front of you. “Hello! I’m super glad Gojo-sensei has someone to love!! He’s always saying something about how he misses his ‘hubby’ randomly during class but we never thought he was being serious!”
You smile bashfully. You never thought Satoru would think of you during work, and for him to call you his “hubby”? 
Megumi stands beside him, handing you a book. “That’s because Gojo-sensei can’t shut up. They’re so lovey-dovey behind closed doors it makes me sick.”
Yuuji smiles. “That’s ‘cause they’re in love Megumi! Shouldn’t it be sweet that your dads love each other?”
Megumi frowns. “They aren’t my dads.”
“They totally are! You called Gojo-sensei dad one time during a mission, don’t think I’d ever forget that!” Nobara teases, holding Satoru’s ring in her other hand to presumably examine it.
Satoru claps his hands. “Okkayy! I appreciate that you two love my husband, not as much as me of course, but he’s got stuff to do! And we have to learn about the boring sorcerer families. Ew.”
His students groan but make their way to their seats. Satoru walks you to the door of the classroom, a small apologetic smile on his face. “I can’t walk you all the way to the door, Yaga would kill me, but I’ll see you at home?”
You nod with a soft smile on your face.
Satoru kisses you one last time. It’s more of a peck than anything, then leans into your ear. “Prep yourself for me before I get home okay? I have to reward you for being so good today.”
Blush rises up to your cheeks as you nod again. Pushing your hands down to your lap and turning away from his classroom door. The blush gets harder when you hear a loud “See you at home baby!” from the door.
Satoru watches you until he can’t anymore. A relieved sigh leaves his face as he closes the door and sits on his desk. Legs crossed and a ring adorning his finger, with your initials on them.
“Ask away, and I’ll show you any pictures you want.”
Yuuji and Nobara visibly light up and begin asking questions about where he met you, how long you’ve been together, and how long you’ve been married, plus the pictures of Megumi crying.
He shows them every photo and answers every question without hesitation.
After all, they’re all questions about you, his husband.
And he knows you’ll be home waiting for him with dinner, and dessert.
Your ass (that he loves to watch jiggle every time he fucks you), and ice cream.
He loves you, and he’s glad his students (and son) love you too.
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ohnococo · 6 months
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Pining Hiromi Higuruma HCs
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(Hiromi Higuruma, pining away for you, his coworker. Except he's kind of a pervert about it.)
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Hiromi Higuruma who always listens to your professional opinion, and makes sure to credit you to coworkers and higher ups.
Hiromi Higuruma who becomes your lunchtime venting buddy early on. Sometimes you’ll catch each other's eyes and he’ll give you that look that lets you know he has some shit he needs to say RIGHT now so it’s time to take a break.
Hiromi Higuruma who is happy to help you out off the clock because at least you give him something to look forward to during his stressful days. He really does want to support you in your career growth (among other things).
Hiromi Higuruma who takes turns with you buying each other lunch, then dinner when you have to order takeout for overtime. He knows your go-to order from every place that delivers to your office.
Hiromi Higuruma who looks ten times more stressed when you get back from any time off. His jokes get increasingly more serious about how you “can’t just leave me on my own like that” even when you aren’t working on the same things so your presence makes no difference. Except it does. To him. He feels like his head is going to explode from dealing with work all day without those little moments of relief from being around you.
Hiromi Higuruma who glares at anyone making jokes about him being your “work husband” because it’s unprofessional and “two people can just get along without there being something to it.”
Hiromi Higuruma who knows there absolutely is something to it because he’s so, so bad at not thinking indecent things about you all day long. He doesn’t even know if you’re flirting with him or if it's all in his head. What he does know is he can't bring himself to show restraint over how much time he spends with you in the office.
NSFW/18+ ONLY UNDER THE CUT
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Hiromi Higuruma who, when you eventually bring up adding him on social media, takes weeks to add you back because he knows he can’t be trusted with access to a collection of pictures of you. He was already battling guilt over jerking off to the picture of you on your LinkedIn. It was so posed and styled that it barely looked like your day to day self but it was all he had outside of his imagination for months.
Hiromi Higuruma who feels like a disgusting fucking pervert when he makes a whole folder of saved pics that make his dick twitch after clicking through every single picture. Innocuous things like a photo of you sitting down, looking up at whoever was taking it with a twinkle in your eye - ammo enough for him to picture you looking like that on your knees in front of him. God help him if he finds a picture of you in a swimsuit, or anything more revealing than your work attire. He knows it's scumbag behaviour, and he knows it's risky having them on his phone because he'd look like a crazy person if someone ever saw him with a hidden collection of seemingly innocent pictures of you, but after months and months of pining he sometimes finds he has to lock himself in the bathrooms at work to stroke his cock looking at them. Especially if you've shown up wearing those heels.
Hiromi Higuruma who so helpfully accepts your request to house sit for you when you’re going to be gone for a week. All he needs to do is pop in to water some plants, maybe feed a cat or some fish, just generally check everything was in order. He knows from the second you leave your key with him that he will be an absolute freak about it too. The first time he goes over he finds himself looking in your dirty clothes hamper, heartbroken to find it empty. He doesn’t even finish the actual job he’d come there to do because he feels that fucking guilty for being a creep.
Hiromi Higuruma who, a day later, comes back, waters your plants, and settles for stealing a pair of clean panties to spend the rest of the week jerking off into. He’ll return them washed, right back where he’d found them, the day before you come home. And he'll miss them just as much as he hates himself for doing any of it in the first place.
Hiromi Higuruma who makes you second guess if he really liked you as much as you thought when he starts asking when you’re going on vacation next. It’s not that he doesn’t miss you while you’re gone… it’s that he can’t stop kicking himself for not rifling through your drawers to see what sex toys you use on yourself. 
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Dating Co-Worker Hiromi Higuruma HCs
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leviismybby · 7 months
Text
The 104 cadets walking in on you and Levi (Yes this is set in season 4 and all of them are 18 or older!)
Eren
He was one of the few ones who knew that you and Levi were dating but it doesn't click in his mind that he should learn how to knock on the door. Eren had a question for Levi about his training schedule and decided it to go and ask him personally. You and Levi were busy at the moment, his body moved on top of yours under the blanket as your nails dug into his back. "Faster Levi!" You moaned and Levi did as you asked, thrusting into you faster. "Yeah? You like it rough don't-" "Captain sorry to disturb you sir but-" Eren stopped mid-sentence, his eyes going wide and a slight blush appearing on his cheeks. "Yeager fuck off!" Levi was quick to pull the blanket over your bodies further, his cock still inside of you.
In panic, Eren started to apologize, he really didn't mean to interrupt you two and even though he was 18, it still made him extremely flustered as he understood what was going on under that blanket. "I am so sorry sir! I didn't mean to! I just had a question about the training schedule!" He turned around not wanting to make it more awkward, Levi rolls his eyes when he sees you trying to hold in your laugh. "Eren I told you to fuck off! Now get out and next time fucking knock." Eren nodded at Levi's words and quickly rushed out of the room. As he closed the door, he let out a breath. "Why didn't I see this when I kissed Historia's hand?"
Armin
Now, he doesn't make his presence known when he catches you two in the supply room. He wanted to try out the new gear Commander Hange made. His footsteps were quiet as he walked into the supply room, and then he stopped in his tracks as he saw your legs wrapped around Levi's body as the captain moved his hips. He just stood there frozen for a moment, neither you nor Levi noticed him as Levi was kissing you passionately while thrusting into you as you were prepared on a crate. Armin quickly and quietly exited the room and closed the door, he went pale for a few minutes. Hange walked down the hallway and saw him. "Armin? Did you try out the gear?" His blue eyes shifted to Commander Hange, he was only able to shake his head. "No, it's ugh..its....its.." He sutured, his face flushing red and he swallowed. "I didn't find it!" He quickly rushes past Hange leaving them wondering what was going on. Later that day when Armin saw you two he would just look away blushing, he had read about sexual intercourse and he knew that it was normal for a man and a woman but he still felt awkward and about catching his captain having sex with his girlfriend that made it worse for him. He never told anyone, not even Mikasa and Eren.
Mikasa
Let's just say....she didn't appreciate catching you two and almost just did not react while she caught you. You and Levi knew that it was risky whenever you two had sex in his office but Levi couldn't wait unit later so he just took you right there on his desk. His hands gripped your hips as he pounded into you, you gripped the desk, soft moans escaping your lips. Mikasa was carrying a box of the thunder spears she was told to deliver to Levi's office, she did knock on the door but given how "busy" you and Levi were, neither of you heard it so Mikasa to her horror walked in on you spread on Levi's desk while he was inside of you. As soon as Levi saw Mikasa he pulled your body into a sitting position so Mikasa didn't see much either of your bodies. "Forget to knock?" Levi says to which Mikasa replies. "I did." She says, her voice indifferent, she didn't really seem to care or at least that's what she wanted you to think. She turns around. "I have the box with thunder spears. I'll just leave it here." She leaves the box on the floor and then exits the office. "Fucking brats," Levi mutters, pulling out of you to go lock the door before returning to you on the desk. "She didn't seem fazed at all.." You chuckle as Levi lays you down on the desk again. "I don't fucking care, those brats need to learn privacy." He says and resumes his thrusts. Mikasa kept a poker face until she was down the hallway from Levi's office. She buries her face into her scarf, so that's how it looked when a man and a woman.... She blushes slightly, either way, she doesn't want to see that again.
Jean and Connie
Oh, this one was just chaotic, it happens when you were in Marley. Luckily both of them were a little drunk when they came across you and Levi having sex. You were in Levi's tent on top of him, Levi had his arms wrapped around your waist as you rode him. You throw your head back and Levi takes it as an innovation to kiss your neck and leave marks behind. That's when the flaps of the tent open and Levj quickly takes his jacket that was beside him to wrap it around you. Jean and Connie come stumbling in. "Captain! We have a question!" Connie says, it was clear as day that they were both drunk. "No I don't! You have a question." Jean says and then looks at you and Levi, his eyebrows raise. "Why is name on top of you, captain?" He asks, it took everything in Levi not to stand up and throw both idiots out of the tent but he couldn't move from the position. "Name was cold so I let her sit on my lap." "Aaah." Both Connie and Jean say, Levi saw that Connie was about to speak again so he he quickly spoke out in a commanding voice. "Out! Now!" Jean and Connie both got startled and quickly saluted. "Yes sir!" You look back to see the boys stumbling out of the tent, drunkenly talking nonsense. "That was lucky." you sigh and Levi takes your hips. "Yeah...now lets continue and hope those drunk idiots don't walk in again." The next morning Jean recalled what happened. "Connie...yesterday I swear we walked in on name and Captain Levi you know..." Connie looked at Jean. "That's just you being a pervert Jean, we were drunk out of our minds." But Jean could swear that he did see you two having sex. "No, name was sitting on top of the captain, what do you think two adults do? Cuddle? That's a weird position to cuddle." At that Connie frowned, his hangover killing him. "Jean, you were probably having a dream, now pass me that bucket..."
Sasha
Luckily for her, she didn't catch you and Levi in that position but she did come into Levi's office unannounced as you were on your knees...Levi quickly pushed your head under his table making you hit the edge, you let a quiet "ow" and then heard Sasha talk. "Sasha Brouse sir! I am here to collect the report Commander Hange needs!" Sasha spoke in a respectful tone, she hadn't noticed you yet and hopefully, she won't. You smirk and decide to tease Levi, you take him into your mouth again knowing that Sasha can't see you from the table. Levi clears his throat glaring at you for a second before looking at Sasha, trying to keep his voice normal. "I'll give them to Hange later. I am busy now, get out." He says, Sasha was about to speak when she noticed something under the desk, she just saw your boots but it clicked in her head and like Eren, she panicked. "Of course. You're busy. Sorry sir." She literally tan out of the room. Levi sighed and pulled your head up. "You minx." He said and you smirked before returning to pleasure him. Sasha ran down the corridor until she found Connie and Jean and pretty much told them on the spot. "I told you I wasn't imagining it, Connie!" Jean says as Connie bursts out laughing. From that day on they all learned not to bother you and Levi when you were alone.
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beetlejuicyy · 7 months
Note
JEALOUS JEALOUS JEALOUS BADA TO THE POINT WHERE SHE IGNORES READER BECAUSE SHES UPSET
Unusual
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Pairing: Bada Lee x reader
Synopsys: you decide it's time to make your girlfriend jealous on purpose
Warnings: none
Notes: sorry for taking this long anon :( hope you enjoy!!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Bada wasn’t the jealous type. In the few months you’ve been together, you learned that her cheerful and outgoing personality meant that she didn’t mind most interactions you had with other people. When you would over analyze some words or touches people would give her, pondering whether they were too much or you were actually crazy, she would encourage you to go out and socialize and have fun. You were definitely a black cat and golden retriever dynamic couple.
You, on the other hand, you were very jealous. Most of the time you didn’t even show it, so she only knew about a quarter of the things that annoyed you. But of course you were jealous, when her job was dancing and sometimes she would have to dance with other people, touch other people, match the mood of the song with her moves. And sometimes, the song was sexual and she was so good at it. But so were other dancers.
On many occasions you complained to your friend about it. Bada would give you spoilers and show you the rehearsals, always bubbly and excited about her new project. But when you would watch the final version on YouTube you would feel like choking, your heart aching. It hurt to see her touching other people like she would touch you, because she was so good at it she made it look real.
“She’s not the jealous type ooor are you not giving her any reason to be jealous?” Your friend asked. She had a point indeed. You had been dating for a few months, your friend added, and you were only getting to know each other on a more intimate level. Everything she told you made sense.
Several days after going out with your friend your mind was still preoccupied with that question. Bada gave you many reasons to be jealous. But you rarely did. Of course you’ve never seen her obviously jealous, she had no reason to. You weren’t touchy with other people except her, had only a couple of close friends, always preferred a cozy quiet place and never felt the need to be in the center of attention.  If she ever had experienced the feeling, it was not under any circumstance as bad and as intense as you had felt it many times.
The thought of making your girlfriend jealous was tempting. All that frustration and anger you felt so many times before was not pleasant at all but something inside you wanted to see her like that. You wished she would be more possessive, pay more attention to who and how you were talking, be more needy and show it.
Was it toxic of you? Maybe. Was Bada an amazing girlfriend and you risked to make a big mistake? Perhaps. Would you be even now that she would experience feelings you went through often times? Absolutely.
                                ***
Bada checked the time once again. It was exactly one minute later since the last time she did it. She sighed in exasperation. When you told her you were going out to celebrate that one of your friends quit her toxic job she was excited for you and even helped you pick your outfit. She didn’t expect, however, to be this bored without you.
You would usually text her to let her know you arrived safe, sometimes you would update her with gossip in real time or complain about some people you didn’t like. But you had been very silent for several hours. Not that it was a bad thing. Just unusual.
The first update she had from you was a very risky story, posted on close friends, with the spaghetti straps of your dress off your shoulders and an angle that did justice to your generous cleavage. Bada clicked her tongue out loud in the empty apartment. You looked so good. But who else was on your close friends list? That looked like a picture you would send to her only when you got bored and frisky.
But then again, it wasn’t something bad. Just unusual.
The next couple of stories were public and shared from someone else’s account a couple of hours later. It was a video and some pictures. The video was particularly infuriating. Your girlfriend played it again and again, trying to see who was that girl you were leaning next to so comfortably, being all smiles and giggles. She was obviously masc, with short hair and a sleeve full of tattoos. Bada didn’t recognize her, and she knew all of your friends. The rest of the pictures were just shots and food.
Her first guess was that you were drunk. But you never crossed the line with drinking. The second one was that the girl was straight and you simply felt comfortable. No way, she quickly dismissed the thought after replaying the video five times. That girl was definitely into you.
Without thinking, Bada stood up and got dressed. It was only when she was putting her shoes on that she saw her reflection in the mirror and the thought hit her.
What was she doing?
She always encouraged you to go out with friends. It was a healthy, supportive relationship that you had. What was she planning to do? Storm in there like a rabid man taking his woman back like stolen property? That’s exactly what her instinct was telling her to do.
She breathed in deeply, as if there was not enough air to fill her lungs. Her head was spinning and her heart was burning. What you were doing made no sense to her. She leaned her forehead against the cold glass of the mirror, still debating.
Should she text first?
That’s needy.
Should she call you?
That’s controlling.
Should she go there?
That’s clearly toxic.
But waiting for a sign from you was unbearable. You’ve been gone since 7 and it was almost midnight. A passing thought got her breath stuck in her throat. What if you were going home with that girl?
Bada bit her lower lip in frustration.
Her phone vibrated shortly in her pocket, signaling a new message. With a rapidly beating heart and clumsy hands she took it out hoping it was a sign from you. A good kind.
“Can you come pick me up?”
She sniffed in annoyance. The audacity you had. Flirting with strangers, posting it online and now calling on her like a dog. She was going to pick you up and do much more than that.
                                 ***
You were quite disappointed. When you left the house you didn’t plan to do it tonight, you had to put more thought into the details. But since your friend’s now ex coworker was exactly the type that you would actually chase if you were single, and Bada knew it, you couldn’t help but seize the opportunity.
She was your type aesthetically speaking only. You didn’t click at all and she seemed to notice that you were all flirty and touchy only when there was a camera taking a video or a photo. She confronted you in the bathroom about it but agreed to help you with making your girlfriend jealous nonetheless.
But there was no sign from Bada. Other than the fact that you could see how many times your story had been reviewed, and you knew she was most likely the one to be looking at the video many times to analyze it, you had no idea about her feelings. She didn’t react to your selfie, she didn’t ask anything about the video, she didn’t send any messages or call at all. It seemed to you that she wasn’t bothered at all.
You grew more bored and impatient as the night continued. You kept checking your phone, hoping that she would miss you, doubt you or be mad at you. Nothing. You were defeated. What else could you do? Bada was not the jealous type after all. You had no idea why it hurt that much. Being jealous would mean that she cares, you thought. You wanted her to be frustrated, you wanted her to be on the edge like you had been because of her. But apparently it wasn’t the case.
Admitting your loss, you texted her to pick you up since it was already late but no one else seemed to break the ice and go home first. She responded quickly with few words and nothing more, confirming that she was on her way.
The night was cold but not too dark. The full moon brought a lot of soft silver light outside, which helped you relax a little as you waited for Bada to arrive. You were feeling sad and you hoped that the excuse of being tired would be enough for her not to ask too many questions that night.
The car pulled up across the street and you immediately recognized her large vehicle. It had took her a while to get confident about driving and you always wondered why she chose a car that big in the first place. But now that she had more confidence in her driving you thought that it really fit her. You could see her profile from the distance. She looked… tense? Maybe she was just tired, you thought. You crossed the street but she didn’t turn her head to look at you at all as she quietly waited for you to get in.
It was weird. No hugs, no smiles, no nothing. She mumbled something similar to a greeting in response to your saying hi and started the car quickly. Her lips were pressed firmly against each other, as if trying to conceal words that she didn’t want to let out. Her eyes were fixed on the road ahead, looking straight ahead even though the street was well lighted and empty. One of her elbows rested against the window as Bada single handedly turned the steering wheel, following the directions of the her navigation system.
Then it hit you.
It was like a slap on your cheek. But the kind you liked. She was mad. You turned slightly away from her, in case she could see you grinning like an idiot. She was so mad at you. Looking at her for a brief moment you admired her features. Her eyes were full of anger but she looked so hot.
“Did you have fun without me? I haven’t heard from you all night.” You said, trying to hide the joy in your voice. You were pushing her buttons, trying to see how much she could hold in.
“Mhm.” She only hummed in a low voice.
“You missed the right turn here.” You said, noticing the route was being recalculated. She placed her other hand back on the steering wheel as her right one stretched so she could turn off the navigation. Her hand lingered there for a moment, between your seats.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how it was?” You said, taking her hand and placing it on you thigh. She only side eyed you for a brief moment. Her hand was laying ghostly on your thigh. You wished she would grab it, sink her fingers into your flesh.
“I already know from instagram.” She answered.
“Ah, yes.” You said sheepishly, as if you didn’t understand what she was hinting at. “But you know social media is just a small part of real life.”
“You’re unbelievable.” She rolled her eyes in annoyance. The car stopped at a red light, a few other cars in line in front of you flashing red lights over her chiseled features.
“What did I do?” You asked. She covered her face with both her hands, rubbing her eyes as if trying to wake up. Her hands fell heavily in her lap as she finally looked directly at you.
“You know exactly what.” She said. The traffic light changed to green and she licked her lips nervously, turning back to driving.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You really liked to see her like that. You wondered what words, what tone, what actions were hiding behind those angered eyes, behind those tightly shut lips, behind those hands that were grabbing the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles were white. “I just had fun like you always encourage me to do.”
“Fun doesn’t mean seducing other women!” She yelled and you raised your eyebrows in anticipation for her next gesture. “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” She sighed.
“I was simply sociable.”
“Yes, sociable, clinging onto that woman’s arm all night long and looking at her with those pleading eyes. Sure, y/n, very sociable of you.” She snapped. You were almost home.
“She was very nice, actually. We were just making conversation.”
“Conversation? Conversation!” She repeated sarcastically after you. “She was undressing you with her eyes  in those 5 seconds I saw only.” She was fuming. Her pitch of her voice turned higher the louder it got but it was very amusing to you. She pulled up in the parking lot of your apartment building, sinking back into her seat. Her tongue was moving inside her mouth, pressing against her cheek as she looked up gathering her thoughts.
You wanted her to take you right there. She was extremely sexy when she was mad and the fact that you got her so worked up intentionally made you feel satisfaction.
“Did you really like her? For real.” She asked. There was a long moment of silence between the two of you, as you contemplated whether to torture her more or just give in to your needs. The more you looked at her long and delicate fingers the clearer you could imagine them around your neck. The more you looked at her biting the corner of her lower lip in frustration the more you wished she would bite yours instead.
“Are you jealous?” You replied with another question. She turned her face to you, looking at you like you asked the most stupid question in the world.
“Am I jealous?” She mocked you, avoiding to give an answer. You looked into her clouded eyes filled with anger, jealousy and annoyance. She never made you feel so horny by simply looking at you before. You leaned in, ready to give in. You missed her all night. She pulled back though, so your lips couldn’t meet hers. “You think you’re getting it your way?” She asked. You blinked at her in surprise. The tips of her fingers touched your jawbone as she grabbed your face rather harshly, pushing your head back to look up at her. “You’ll be begging for me to give it to you for a long while, you little brat.” She breathed against your lips. You could feel yourself getting wet.
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violet-butterflies · 9 months
Text
❥︎ yandere! Dilf Part 3
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❥︎ Warnings ! ☞︎︎︎ stalking, delusional, homewrecking, mentions of cp being used to frame people ( male yandere! oc x female reader ) Click to see part 1 and Part 2 !
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What used to be a sight Junho looks forward to seeing every time he wakes up turned into a harsh reminder that (y/n) is now engaged.
All this time, it turns out that (y/n)'s fiance had been overseas, volunteering to be a teacher in less privileged countries. But now, he's back and as soon as he came back to the country, he asked his girlfriend to marry him.
With a sharp glare to the window he used to see inside (y/n)'s house, Junho sipped in his black coffee; the bitterness in the coffee was nothing compared to how bitter he was feeling inside. The happy couple were chatting over breakfast before they go to work together.
He hates how it has been ever since the announcement. (y/n) used to be able to babysit his precious son every day but now she only is able to watch over his son on weekends. He never gets to see the sight of his love making him dinner and greeting him with a smile after a long day of work anymore since she leaves as soon as he gets home to take care of her fiance.
This also means that he is not able to cuddle with her in his bed anymore.
Junho knew that all of this had escalated to something creepy and he had tried to move on but he couldn't help but feel his blood boil when he saw (y/n)'s fiance work with her in the kindergarten now.
"Daddy... Why doesn't mommy take care of me anymore?" Junho's son, Yoon, asked one day as Junho was tucking his son into bed one night.
"It's... It's complicated, buddy... She'll come back soon I promise." Junho also said that to himself even though it was impossible.
"Oh... I hope she comes back soon... I miss her..." Yoon said before falling asleep, leaving a tired and heartbroken Junho to retreat back into his room.
He then picked up his phone to log into the software he uses to stalk (y/n) through the hidden camera he put inside a stuffed animal he gave to (y/n) one day. He knows he shouldn't do it since it'll only break his heart but he missed her too much.
The first thing he noticed was how the doll wasn't even on her bed anymore; put aside in the corner of her room to make space for the fiance. Then, he noticed a giggly (y/n) who was cuddling in her fiance's arms as the two looked at each other lovingly. It went on for a long while before the two eventually fell asleep in each other's arm and Junho was watching every second of it.
Junho wanted to look away. Watching the two all lovey dovey like that when it should've been him was like when he found out about the news that broke his beautiful fantasy; his heart breaking and set on fire over and over again. But watching them also made him realize how he couldn't let (y/n) go just like that.
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Junho knew it was risky business breaking into the kindergarten both (y/n) and her fiance taught in in the middle of the night. It was also risky to somehow get his hands on some nsfw videos and pictures of children to plant in the fiance's work computer.
He figured out that the computers inside the kindergarten had no password from (y/n) due to the computers only being used to play children music, print coloring pages or making some worksheets for the kids. The teachers in the kindergarten don't really worry what's on hiding what's in their work computers since there's nothing really important on them anyway.
Junho had a plan all prepared. He was going to plant the evidence and call the police the next day. He was going to say that he saw one of the teachers working at his son's kindergarten was looking at some illegal media and then get the bastard that stole his beloved from him behind bars.
Plus, when it makes (y/n) react negatively he can swoop in and make her feel all better! In Junho's mind, he is killing two birds with one stone.
He knew that the plan would work and it did. The next day, the police took (y/n)'s fiance into custody when he was picking his son up from school. The other kindergarten teachers were looking at the whole arrest in shock while (y/n) was trying to understand what was going on. She was confused on why her fiance was getting arrested and she wanted to know what happened.
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The next few days were hectic for (y/n). Her house had to be searched by the police for evidence since that's where her fiance had been staying ever since he came back to the country. It didn't help when the police began speculating that she was also in on it at some point before the idea was brushed off.
(y/n) felt as if she did not knew who her fiance really was. She thought there was nothing she didn't know about him since they were high school sweethearts and when the police told her that someone reported seeing her fiance having videos of children in a nsfw way, she felt her heart break.
As a teacher and his fiance, she felt disgusted at how her fiance for having those materials while teaching around children.
It was midnight when (y/n) was sitting in the middle of the kitchen as she drank a bottle of wine. Her eyes were puffy from crying since her emotions were still running wild and how betrayed she felt towards her fiance.
The house was dark and deathly silent other from the sobs coming out of (y/n). Where had it all gone wrong? When did her fiance started to watch these illegal videos? Had he engaged in abusing these children himself? (y/n) didn't know and she didn't really want to know since her heart will only break further thinking of how sorry she felt for any victims her fiance could have abused.
The doorbell then resonated throughout the empty house making (y/n) jump. She tiredly wiped her tears as she walked over to the front door, not noticing how she was still holding onto the bottle of wine.
When she opened the door, she saw a concerned looking Junho in front of the door.
"Junho..." (y/n) tried to greet before breaking into tears again and sinking into the ground. Her hand dropping the wine bottle and began covering her crying face.
In an instant, Junho sank down alongside her as he took the shaking into his muscular arms.
"shh... shh... don't worry... I'm here..." Junho tried to reassure as he rubbed circles on her back to try and calm her down.
Junho had to stop himself from taking a big sniff at when (y/n) began to nuzzle herself into his arms. He truly missed having (y/n) in his arms again after the mental turmoil he experienced looking at how happy she was with a man that wasn't him.
All of that won't matter anymore though since the fiance is now out of the picture and Junho will gladly play the role of (y/n)'s loving husband.
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A/N HI IM BACK BUT NOT RLLY SINCE IM ACTUALLY STILL RLLY BUSY SO I DON'T KNOW WHEN I'LL UPLOAD AGAIN AAA.
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anadiasmount · 5 months
Note
kisses with jude head cannon!! 🩷
- actually in love with your fics and blog sm!!
hi anon!! tysm!! means alot to me :PPPP 🤍
before you go to sleep he will either tuck into you or you into him, and kiss your forehead in a gentle manner. no matter if you guys are mad at each other, or if y'all are fine, he will kiss your lips to wish you goodnight. "goodnight pretty, sweet dreams..."
his kisses would make me feel nervous, so imagine your relationship is fairly new, and you guys kiss but hesitation and nervousness is always there. but after he just can't hold it in and kisses you out the blue, saying it was killing him not properly giving you a kiss like you deserved. "i needed to baby, it was killing me not being able to do that..."
if you're attending his games, HE WILL BEGGGG for a kiss from you. kiss you passionately in front of his fans and teammates before he goes off and plays, and no matter the result, he'll meet you by the sideline to get his deserved kiss after. "thank you for sticking with me always, y/n..."
maybe a forbbiden kiss, where you're not supposed to be around each other for certain reasons, but you guys have separation anxiety and sneak out to be with each other. maybe you're at your parent's house, or at a gathering and you've been separated too long, jude will pull you aside and kiss you like his life depended on it. "why did we agree to come to this hm? i need to be with you always y/n..."
messy kisses!! a nasty makeout sesh in public to be risky or in your home! him on top of you or you're straddling his lap. tongues dancing, lips smacking creating a clicking noise in the room. biting his lip and jude taking control of the kiss. unable to pull away but when you do your lips and jude's are slightly swollen catching your breaths. "so pretty, all mine to kiss and love..."
if you guys are out in public to an event, club, dinner, party, or anything, you guys have a thing made up by him, where three kisses mean "i love you". maybe you can't verbally say it due to it being quiet, but once he glances into your eyes and kisses your lips, it's his way of saying the three words.
PHYSICAL TOUCH IS MY LANGUAGEEE, and i think after all we've seen it's his as well!! small intimate pecks on your cheeks, temple, hands, shoulders, neck, thighs if he's laying on you, just because he loves to do that. giving you that cheesy grin he always does. "i love you, and every inch of you..."
drunk kisses!! he's looks like the type to be so needy and clingy when drunk, so i can imagine him wanting to kiss you wherever you guys are. at your house or out in public. grabbing your cheeks and pulling you into a messy giddy kiss. or you sitting on his lap and leaning down every now and then bc he has the most perfect kissable lips!! "keep kissing me and we'll give everyone a show..."
when he feel jealous, seeing another man make you laugh or spark off a unnecessary convo with you, or he notices you get uncomfortable and glancing to look at jude, he'd rush to you immediately, asking if you're okay before softly kissing your lips and then glaring at the guy whoever is in front of you, making it clear you're clearly taken. "you ok? who's this?"
we know jude loves his insta dumps, or posting on his story, posting a picture of the two of you sharing a kiss or pulling away after kissing because loves to show you off! or after a night out there's kiss prints left behind by your lipstick and he posts a picture of them bc he loves to be a little tease. "always leaving her mark... my y/n..."
kissing in the rain is a wantttt!! jude making you do it because its the inner child in him , holding you close to him, and the kiss is full of smiles and laughter, not being able to properly kiss because it feels so random to do it. will hold your waist and never pull back because it feels right and special! "i don't care if we get wet, just wanna hold and kiss my girl..."
if either one of you is having a bad day, reassure and communication always takes place. always wanting him or you to let their feelings known and comfort each other if needed. sharing soft pecks after talking because a kiss always let's jude or you know, that you are here for them. "let's focus on the present, forget about what happened, and let's enjoy our time here ok?"
SEEING JUDE AFTER SO LONG!! even if it was a couple days or when he has england duty, or preseason like last year. making time for each other is always a must, and after seeing him for so long all he wants to do is kiss you, because without them neither of you can't function! "missed you so much my pretty girl... taste so sweet like always..."
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mosaickiwi · 8 months
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Hide and Seek
950ish word Ren(dacted) drabble off a spicy hide and seek prompt from da discord except I didn’t do the NSFW ending because I’m cringe, my bad. GN reader.
14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI
Prompt: Playing “Hide and Seek" with Ren in his spacious apartment, except no room is off limits, and he has to wear a Ghostface mask while seeking you out. And if Ren manages to find you, he gets to fuck you. I'M SORRY
~
Ren had given you fourteen minutes to hide. Fourteen much needed minutes to take stock of his pitch black apartment while he waited outside. 
You'd been overly thorough, going room to room, crossing off some spots and keeping note of others, both silly and serious—you were momentarily tempted to hang ass-out of the washing machine for a cheap laugh. At the moment, hiding in the shrine-turned-storage room was your top choice. It was piled high enough with stuff that you were sure you'd sneak by him to some other hiding spot if he tried to corner you. But just in case, you made your way into his bedroom to find another option or two.
You hurried across the room to open his closet door and turn on its light. The rows of hanging and neatly folded black clothes on either side of the spacious walk-in didn't give you much to work with; even if you crouched down, he'd find you in an instant. Maybe you would hide in the storage room.
As you flipped the light switch and turned around to do just that, the front door loudly slammed shut. Your heart sank. You were out of time. There was no way you'd make it to your hiding place now. Halfway panicked, you fell to your knees and slid as quickly and quietly as possible under the bed. An obvious cliche—but it was already too risky to leave the room. You thanked your lucky stars you’d closed all the doors on your way here. It’d at least buy some time.
With bated breath, you waited in the dark, heart practically beating in your ears. The noisy sounds of them opening and closing doors echoed through the apartment. You could clearly hear his footsteps as well. He wasn’t normally anywhere close to loud, so he was definitely making all that commotion for your benefit. You weren’t sure whether to appreciate it or not, thanks to your steadily growing fear mixed with anticipation.
The noises got closer much faster than you expected them to. You only pressed yourself tighter against the floor. It was impossible to see much in the dark, but not even a brief flicker of light showed through the gap at the bottom of the bedroom door. He wasn’t bothering to turn the lights on. You were a bit miffed that he knew the layout of his apartment this well.
A few more loud footsteps, and you knew he was just outside the room. The doorknob faintly clicked as he turned it. The door opened, but thankfully you didn’t hear it shut. You could feel his footsteps, heavier than usual, thumping against the floor. Barely visible, the toes of his boots came into view right in front of you.
“I know you’re in here, Angel,” sang his voice from above you, the taunting muffled by the mask. The bed slightly dipped from his weight as he began to kneel down. Your heart only beat faster against your rib cage as you tried to stay calm. Did they really find you that quickly? You silently cursed yourself for being so picky.
All of a sudden he seemed to change his mind. The bed shifted and he moved back into complete darkness, out of your limited field of view. You squinted, trying your best to keep track of him. But it didn’t do any good. His footsteps reverberated once again as he walked around the room. There was a faint creaking noise from what must’ve been the closet door, then the footsteps got the tiniest bit quieter and quieter until they stopped once more.
You had to take the chance while he was occupied searching the closet. Otherwise, they’d just come back to look under the bed. With your heart in your hands, you trembled as you inched out on the side furthest from the closet, getting ready to bolt. If you were lucky, you’d make it to the storage room. One deep breath, and you started to run like your life depended on it.
Except you didn’t get far at all. You reached blindly in the direction of the door as an arm wrapped firmly around your waist, then a hand clasped over your mouth to mute the absolutely terrified shriek you let out.
“Y’really thought I’d gone in the closet, huh?” they laughed from behind while you struggled for a moment. “Of course you’d try to run.” 
The rather violent thrumming of your pulse seemed to settle in his embrace. He moved his hand away from your mouth once you stopped flailing, and you heard fabric and rubber rustling as he took off the mask. You forced yourself to speak—in spite of the adrenaline still coursing through you, “I thought… I thought a chase would be more fun.”
His arm still around you skimmed low on your stomach before his other hand came to toy with the hem of your shirt, making you tense in excitement. “It would be fun, but we’re not in a movie. Can't make things that easy f'you,” he teased, along with placing a soft kiss to your temple.
You were thankful not to see whatever smug face he had. "You could've humored me a little bit." Your prep time felt like a waste, so you really wanted to put up a better fight.
He pulled you closer in response. The press of his body against you served as a crystal clear reminder for how your little game was meant to end. Eerily confident, his words took a moment to sink in when he began to push up your shirt, lips lingering at your ear to whisper, “Sorry, Angel. You aren’t ever getting away from me.”
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irisintheafterglow · 8 months
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live, laugh, pro racer!gojo :))
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and, wow! just look at that absolute speed demon go!
"speed dumbass seems to be a more fitting description," you remark in response to the announcer's excited narration, sending quiet snickers through the pit crew behind you. "hey, hotshot. let up a little on those hairpins or your engine's gonna overheat," you radio through to his earpiece and pray to the racing gods that he listens. as if to spite you, he accelerates more aggressively through the following turn, causing a concerning but not impactful spike in temperature.
"only reason they'll overheat is 'cause you're on the line, pretty."
"it's my job on the line if you break down, satoru."
"i'm well aware of that, sweetheart," comes his voice from the other end. you were painfully aware of the thousands of spectators watching his point of view and listening in on your conversation. "rest assured, i won't get you fired."
"that's not up to you," you remind him, clicking through the telemetry statistics and glancing at the timing screen before concluding that everything was running as it should, albeit a little bit hot from the driver's arrogance. suguru whispers something in your ear and you dutifully relay it to the idiot behind the wheel. "you can lay off a bit on the straightaways; you have enough wiggle room to give the car a breather."
"but what if i don't wanna?" you breathe deeply through your nose, clenching and unclenching your fists in suppressed irritation. the pit crew keeps laughing behind you and you give them a look that says can you believe this guy? "pssht, houston, do you copy? what's with the radio silence?"
a risky but flawless turn by gojo satoru, who's been in the lead since the start of the race!
"watch your wheels, satoru. keep pulling turns like that and you'll have to come get 'em changed. even you can't escape balding," you mutter with a smirk on your lips and you can imagine his indignant expression. "as much as i wish it'd come faster so you look less pretty."
"you think i'm pretty?" fuck. his shit-eating grin is evident in his tone.
"yeah, pretty stupid," you retort, face burning and glancing at suguru for help. he merely smiles in amusement, returning to whatever the job of lead mechanic requires. "finish the race and get back here so i can strangle you."
"shoko's gonna have a field day dealing with that one, boss."
"says the pr nightmare that got banned from pre-race interviews," you scoff and he slams his foot on the accelerator in response. "hey, hey, easy there; don't be breaking my car."
"i'll buy you a new one," he mutters, crossing the finish line like he'd done it in his sleep. the crew and his managers let out a collective sigh of relief before cheering like they'd won the lottery. you, however, are transfixed on the voice on the way to pull into the pit. "and whatever else you want for dealing with my bullshit all the time."
"look at you being all self-aware," you tease, "this is new and i'm not sure if i like it."
"i can go back to being an asshole, if you want," he suggests and your attention flicks to the vehicle pulling in and immediately being swarmed by reporters, cameras, and the crew. you set down your headphones at the same time he pulls off his helmet, shaking his head like a dog that just took a bath. despite the crowd of microphones being shoved in front of him and the champagne being popped over his head, the only priority in his mind is you. "hi, pretty," he whispers in your ear when he finally takes you in his arms, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "thanks for helping me win."
"i feel like i was a suggestion box whose papers were being incinerated," you argue lightheartedly. he shoots a look of warning to a reporter getting a little too close to you to be considered friendly and the man recoils in fear. "but i guess you did race pretty well."
"couldn't have done it without you," he murmurs lovingly.
"and you better not forget it."
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if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
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cevansbrat0007 · 1 year
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Sweet Renegade Series Masterlist
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About the Sweet Renegade Series: A new arrival in town leads to an unexpected complication in the form of a sexy as sin Bounty Hunter named Ari Levinson.
This series features a collection of one-shots centered around a small town romance between Bounty Hunter Ari Levinson and a reluctant, curvy Reader.
It will also contain mature themes such as Sex, Interracial Relationships, Soft D/s Themes, Discussions of Body Image, Disordered Eating, Discussions of Race, Occasional Depictions of Violence, Cursing, and more. Minors, please do not engage or interact.
Special thanks to @curls-and-eyeliner for helping me brainstorm ideas. Thank you for reading and I look forward to sharing more soon! (**) indicates smut
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Series Intro
New In Town: Introducing my Sweet Renegades Series. Sparks fly when you accidentally find yourself sitting next to Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson.
Hello, Duchess: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined.
New! The Do-Over: Everyone deserves a second chance, including jerks like Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson.
A Friend in the Dark: Coming Soon
Untitled Story: Coming Soon
Sweet Morning Light: Watching you sleep has Ari hungry for more. Which means it's time for breakfast. And it looks like you're on the menu... **
Thirst Trap: Ari loves looking at your ass in those shorts, as long as he's the one who gets to walk behind you. **
Back to Sleep: Ari has the perfect cure for your insomnia. **
On the Clock: Ari stops by for a snack while he's out chasing a lead. **
Creep: You sneak out of the house to go on a midnight supply run, which inadvertently sends Ari into panic mode. ** [Request]
Moments Shared: You and Ari share a moment during a lazy afternoon... **
New! Quickie: You get caught up in the moment while dropping off dinner to your favorite bounty hunter.
Sweet Tooth: Ari gets inventive when he finds himself in the doghouse with you. ** [Request]
Sweet Tooth Deluxe: Ari teaches you a much needed lesson about ignoring him. ** [Request]
Sugar Fix: Your poor attempt at a joke lands you in hot water with your man. Takes place directly after the events in Sweet Tooth and Sweet Tooth Deluxe. ** [Request]
Disturbing the Peace: You're keeping a secret from Ari - one that you'll have to tell him about eventually. Right?
The Scent of you: Ari loves the sweet scent of you, which is why he's content to live between your thighs. **
Case of the Ex: Part I: Just as you decide to explore your feelings for Ari, an unexpected blast from your past sends you reeling...
Southern Comfort: A day after your ex-boyfriend's unexpected return, you show up on Ari's doorstep intending to ask for a little time. Too bad your grumpy bounty hunter isn't feeling particularly charitable. **
An Afternoon with Minerva: Ari finds himself finally ready to admit the truth about his feelings for you...
Off the Market: Ari learns that you're not the sharing type. Which is fine by him, because neither is he.
A Man Starved: Ari lives for the taste of you on his tongue... ** [Request]
Risky Business: Ari doesn't like it when you take unnecessary risks. So tonight he's going to teach you a lesson you won't soon forget. **
Worthy of You: After being forced to confront his own demons, Ari begins to question whether or not he is worthy of you.
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Miscellaneous Asks, Drabbles, & One-shots:
What's Eating You, Mr. Levinson?: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to read Andrew Barber's reaction to the same prompt. [Request]
Cross-Country Christmas: When Ari is left stranded at the airport on Christmas Eve, you find yourself in need of a little holiday miracle... **
Bad Days: Ari helps you get through a particularly bad day... **
Michèle: Ari doesn't approve of your latest trip to the spa. ** [Request]
Jiggly: You find yourself feeling a little self-conscious after it becomes clear you've gained a little weight. **
Easy, Baby: Ari just wants to do his part to help you relax. **
Promises, Promises: Ari exacts a promise from you as a reward for his patience. **
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 months
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Bluebird — Azriel x Reader — Part VIII
Hey! Sorry for the wait on this one, it’s a big one and took me longer than I anticipated! I haven’t had the chance to properly proofread so sorry for any mistakes! Hope you enjoy all the same 💕
Summary: Forced to go on the road with her father, Reader gets a rude awakening that starts to play on her mind. But Azriel’s not willing to let go so easily.
Click here to be added to the Bluebird taglist! Please remember to check your settings and make sure you can be tagged! 💕
Word count: 8.7k
Warnings: Pretty gruesome descriptions of violence and injury. Masturbation. Nsfw, 18+, minors dni!
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
The curtains were drawn.
To superior fae sight, nothing lay behind them besides darkness. Not even the flickering of a candle.
Azriel waited. And waited, and waited. His eyes did not once stray from the window, and hope burned fierce in him that those curtains would suddenly part, that a beautiful human face would appear that made his heart race and his skin feel too taut on his bones.
The fabric didn’t even twitch.
He knew, after a couple of hours, that he would not be seeing his Bluebird tonight. He tried not to feel too disappointed as he flew back towards the wall, the comfort of the fae realm. Such was the nature of their…relationship. It was clandestine and risky, and sometimes things would come up. Sometimes, one or both of them would be unavailable.
But as he stripped off his leathers and fell into his huge bed, he couldn’t tear his thoughts from her. Thoughts of where she was, what she was doing, what had rendered her unavailable to meet — whether she was safe.
Too many thoughts like that would do him no good. Would only worsen this…this alien sensation, of needing her with him all the time. Needing to have her in sight. Needing to have her at all.
He could only pray to the Mother that the next week pedalled on fast.
That he’d see his Bluebird soon.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
It had been the most uncomfortable day of your life.
A monotonous day on horseback, one landscape blurring into another. The village you were travelling to seemed like worlds away — and the journey was only made worse by the sticky summer heat, and the fact that you rode with Devin, slotted between the tight press of his muscled thighs.
Still, you were unflinching in your resolve that while you may not have been able to wriggle out of sharing a horse with him, you weren’t going to talk to him, no matter how much he tried to ply you with conversation.
It was his fault you had to come on this trip in the first damn place.
You tried your hardest to while away the time by sinking into your thoughts. It seemed that with each hour that passed, those thoughts became more vibrant, more longing. Thoughts of you, Azriel, a wildflower meadow. The ability to just…be in each other’s arms.
The ability to kiss him. Touch him.
Those thoughts didn’t help at all. It was an effort to keep them at bay, lest you make the ride even more uncomfortable.
But eventually — thankfully — you and your father’s group had arrived in the target village, just as the sun had been setting. News of your father’s cause had spread wide enough that it seemed his presence was expected. And very much welcomed.
You’d been ushered into the village tavern and supplied with more food and drinks than any of you needed. The feast kept you occupied while your father was absent awhile, apparently visiting a few villagers he was familiar with. And when he’d returned, it was there, that evening, nestled at the very back of the old, crumbling building, that you’d watched your his passionate presentation.
You’d heard the words spoken numerous times, of course. To his friends, and to anyone at the Bluebird Inn who would listen. But this was more than just a speech. This was an entire damn performance.
And it surprised you, how uncomfortable it made you to watch.
For all your father was quiet, brooding, sometimes soft-spoken, he commanded the tavern with a voice louder than you’d ever heard come out of him. His cheeks had grown ruddier as his own words riled him up. Spittle accompanied the angered, venomous words that left his mouth.
And it was all you could do to watch, your dinner feeling leaden in your stomach as you listened to the words — listened to him reel off a list of people he, personally, had met, who had suffered at the hands of the fae. As he told the story of your mother’s brutal death, and the details formed a lump in your throat, never lessening in impact. As he presented his ideas, his plans, in a way that was so refined, so expert, that it almost had you considering that they were the best course of action.
But you knew Azriel. You knew Azriel. These faeries that your father raged about were not his brethren. Azriel himself would abhor their actions.
You repeated that to yourself in your head, like a chant. Azriel was not like them. Azriel was good. Azriel cared for you.
Two whole hours, you had to sit there and listen to your father talk about frightening creatures who stole babies from their bassinets, who brutalised young girls, who tore families apart. Two whole hours, and your muscles were stiff and aching. Your head throbbing. Your body and mind desperate for the oblivion of sleep. A respite away from the pang in your gut.
Azriel was not like them. Azriel was good. Azriel cared for you.
The sight of your father and his men traipsing around the room with rolls of parchment and gathering signatures was a relief — only because you knew this would soon be over.
You sighed softly to yourself, slumping back in your chair and absentmindedly rubbing a hand over your stomach. As though it would somehow ease the complicated feelings that twisted it so violently.
“Impactful.” The chair beside you was pulled out, and Devin lowered himself into it. “Don’t you think?”
You gave the slightest dip of your chin. Couldn’t deny that your father had a way with words.
Devin pursed his lips, his eyes skating over you. “We have a long ride home, Y/N. Are you going to ignore me the whole way back, too?”
“Yes,” you hissed. “Because you had no right to talk to my father on my behalf.”
He folded his arms, appearing unflinching and unbothered by what he’d done. You may have thought he was in the wrong, but he certainly didn’t.
“I did so out of concern for you,” he replied. “Because what you said about the fae was wrong. None of them are good. The sooner you see that, the better.”
You bit inside of your cheek, simply to prevent yourself from arguing. But gods, you wanted to contest the statement. You wished you could tell him that you had cold, hard, beautiful evidence that he was wrong.
But doing so would only make things worse for you.
So you merely folded your own arms, and focused your gaze on the men weaving in and out of tables, gathering signatures, clapping supporters on the back and parting with well wishes. You stared and stared until the sight of them blurred.
And then Devin said, “You haven’t been yourself recently.”
You whipped your head around to look at him — gape at him. “You don’t know me well enough to say that.”
“I know you were acting shifty as fuck the night I came to check on you during the Summer Festival. You couldn’t get rid of me quick enough. I’d be forgiven for thinking you had someone there with you.”
“Who would I possibly have at my house?” you narrowed your eyes. “I’m not allowed to make friends, to form connections.”
His gaze softened. “I’m your friend.”
It wasn’t that long ago that you’d fantasised about him being more than that. He’d seemed so incredible, so gallant — a young man who could sweep you off your feet, and protect you while he guarded an entire village. You’d wondered if there was ever any likelihood of him being drawn to you, instead of one of the many other beautiful girls within proximity. You’d wanted to impress him.
Now, you just wanted him out of your fucking sight before you said something that would land you in more shit.
“You—”
The tavern’s front door flung open, hard enough to slam against the wall, abruptly severing your sentence.
All fell still and silent as every face looked up to take in the man who entered. Hair ripped from the knot at the back of his neck, and he was drenched in sweat, clothes rumpled and—
And saturated with blood.
There was a beat, and then everyone who crowded the small space appeared to collectively clock what they were seeing. A wave of gasps rippled through the room like a breeze.
“I—” the man’s eyes immediately landed on your father, as though it were him he searched for. “I tried to do something, but I was too late. I couldn’t—”
“What has happened?” Your father strode forward.
“I was too late,” he repeated. “I…I think you need to see this.”
Just like that, every member of your group was readying themselves to leave — to throw themselves straight into the unknown. Devin, too, rose.
But your father was wrenching round to face them, shaking his head. “I’ll take only a couple of you with me. The rest of you should stay here until I send word,” he angled himself towards your table. “Devin, Y/N — you’ll join me.”
“Me?” Your eyes widened. Granted, you didn’t know what, exactly, you’d be facing, but one look at the blood-drenched man at the entrance told you it was bad. You didn’t know nearly enough about fighting, or defending, or healing—
“Yes.” Your father’s tone brooked no room for argument. “You.”
There was no chance to protest as you were yanked out of your seat by Devin and pulled along with him while your father headed out of the door. Your heart raced in your chest as Devin helped you up onto his horse, and you were lurched into action.
All you could think was that you wished — so badly wished — to be back in the safety of the Bluebird Inn. And Azriel’s arms.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
You didn’t travel far. A few dirty, dusty roads brought you straight to a house that was mostly unassuming, no different to the houses in your village.
But the similarities stopped at the first scream that ripped through the night and had you violently flinching, had the horses panicking.
Devin dismounted with ease and promptly lifted you off, setting you on your feet at the exact same moment another scream sounded, thinning out into a strangled sob.
“Come.” Your father beckoned to you as Devin made quick work of tying the horses up.
But you couldn’t get your feet to move. You stayed firmly rooted to the spot as you shook your head. “I can’t go in there.”
“You can and you will,” he beckoned again. “Don’t let me down.”
With him in front of you and Devin now at your back, you felt you had no choice but to follow. The man that had burst into the tavern held the front door open, increasing the volume of what now seemed to be wailing sobs.
“I’ve heard of your cause,” he said quietly as your father stepped in first. “Which is why I think you should see this. So you can report back firsthand to the Queens.”
The entryway was just light enough to catch the incline of your father’s head. He said nothing as you were led through—
You stopped dead in the doorway of what seemed to be a dining room. So abruptly that Devin’s front collided with your back.
“Her name is — was — Dahlia.” The man inched towards the table, balling his fists at his sides. “She was only fourteen years old.”
“What happened?” Those two little words came from you — and you didn’t even realise it.
Because lying motionless on the table was the body of a young girl — from what you could make out beneath the injuries that covered her skin, anyway.
Her pallor was such a deathly white that you knew she was long gone. Her clothes were dirty, ripped…by what looked like claws. Chunks of flesh had been gouged out, her throat cut—
Your ears were ringing too loudly for you to think. But as your heart beat at a gallop, another cry rent the air, stealing your attention to the corner of the room.
“This is Marin,” the man breathed, moving closer to the woman who sat curled up and distraught in the corner. “Dahlia’s mother. She saw the attack with her own eyes.”
“Oh, gods,” you whispered. Devin’s hand landed on your shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.
Your father took slow, careful footsteps towards the grieving mother. And the softness with which he knelt before her, laying a tentative hand atop of hers…it had your eyes stinging.
“My name is Marschal,” he introduced himself quietly. “I’m so sorry for what those monsters have taken from you. Your beautiful daughter is safe in the Beyond now. The fae can hurt her no more.”
Another soft cry shuddered out of Marin. But she nodded her head and answered, her voice watery, “I know who you are. What…what you do.”
“Then you’ll know why I’ve been brought here. What happened…it’s something I believe our queens should know about,” he paused. “If you’re able, I’d like to know exactly what it was you witnessed. As much as you can manage, of course.”
The request almost made you flinch. It seemed callous, somehow, when her child’s body was still right there on the table and hadn’t yet been sent back to the earth. But after a beat of Marin staring at your father through her tear-filled eyes, she offered the slightest dip of her chin.
“I…” Her voice wobbled. “I’ll try.”
“Devin,” your father murmured over his shoulder. “Fetch her a drink to steady her nerves.”
You were jostled ever so slightly forward as Devin slipped past you — too close to Dahlia’s poor, broken body than you could handle. You turned away, your feet numbly carrying you to Marin’s side. You took her hand into your own, and she didn’t object to the comfort.
In fact, her voice was a little steadier as she said, “It was just me and my Dahlia.” She inhaled slowly through her nose, steeling herself. Her eyes fluttered shut for the briefest second before they opened again. “We were returning home from visiting my sister in another village. It was such a nice night that we decided not to spend coin on transport. The walk was a bit lengthy, but we’d made it before. We knew which way to go.”
The story was momentarily interrupted by Devin re-entering the room and handing a glass of amber liquid to Marin. Her free hand trembled as she took it and lifted it to her lips. Beads of dark liquid coloured her pale lips as she swallowed it down and continued.
“Only, Dahlia insisted on cutting through a forest to look at some plants,” she whispered. “She’s into botany, you see — she was into botany.” A fresh wave of shuddering sobs threatened to overpower her, but somehow, she found the strength to tamp down on them. “So we went into the forest, but Dahlia, she…she had a habit of wandering off, and I got separated from her. It wasn’t for long. But when I found her again, she was with a man.”
Your father repeatedly softly, “A man?”
“I knew at once that it was a faerie. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. And Dahlia thought so, too. He was talking to her, and she had this glazed look in her eyes like she was somewhere else. He offered her his hand, and she took it. I knew in my bones that he was going to take her away from me, so I stepped forward, announced myself. I told Dahlia to come, that we were going home. The man answered for her in a voice like music.”
“What did he say?” you rasped.
“He said — he said that Dahlia would make a pretty wife for a faerie. That faerie men liked human brides. He said that she was coming back with him, across the wall. He asked her if she wanted to do that, and she said yes. I think he had her under some sort of spell. I could tell that it wasn’t my Dahlia talking. And I panicked. I stepped forward to grab her out of his arms, and he attacked. Immediately. It was all so quick, I couldn’t register what he was doing. But then he was disappearing before my eyes, and Dahlia was crumpling to the floor, and I knew…I could see she was gone.”
A keening, horrendous wail left her, and she was curling herself up so tightly — like she was trying to hold herself together. It was all you could do to grip onto her hand as she rocked back and forth and cried over and over and over, my Dahlia, my Dahlia, my Dahlia.
You waited for your father to say something else — to come up with an answer as to what might ease her suffering, if anything at all could.
But it was Devin who lowered himself to one knee before her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his face gentle, open.
“Madam, the last thing I wish to do is cause you any more distress at such an awful time.” He spoke in the calm, sure way that all village guards did. “But I am a guard of the village from which my companions and I hail. Our girls have been suffering attacks at the hands of the fae, also. If, perhaps, you could describe the faerie you saw…who hurt your child…”
“He was beautiful, as I said,” Marin snivelled. “So beautiful, it almost hurt to look at him. Dark hair and golden-brown skin. Eyes that seemed to glow. That beauty made him easy for Dahlia to trust. He seemed kind. His voice was just as stunning as he was.”
“Their beauty,” your father supplied sympathetically, “is a calculated part of their thrall. Do not blame yourself nor your daughter for being allured by it. The fae know what they are doing.”
You did not hear whether the reassurance brought Marin any comfort. You didn’t catch what Devin then said to her, despite you looking right at him, watching his lips move.
Your mind was roaring, ears screaming. You felt…panic.
Their beauty is a calculated part of their thrall.
The fae know what they are doing.
So beautiful, it almost hurt to look at him.
Dark hair and golden-brown skin. Eyes that seemed to glow. He seemed kind. His voice was just as stunning as he was.
Faerie men like human brides.
You felt like you were going to be sick.
Was it so easy to be lured by the mere beauty of the fae?
Was that what Azriel had done to you?
Dahlia’s attacker had seemed nice to her…just as Azriel seemed nice to you.
And Dahlia was now lying lifeless and brutalised just inches away. Allured by a beautiful faerie. Like the other village girls. Like your mother. Like you—
You launched up, nausea turning your stomach. This was too much. If all fae were the same…if all of them were capable of this…
“What is it?” Devin asked. Your father didn’t speak; merely stared at you with an indiscernible expression.
“I need some fresh air, I’m sorry.” Feeling as though you were gasping for breath, you pushed through them, stumbled clumsily past Dahlia’s body and out of the room before they could stop you. You focused on forcing your legs forward, finding your way out of the house. Balmy summer air coaxed you towards it and had you practically falling out of the door.
What had you been thinking, having regular, secret meetings with a faerie who could tear you apart with his bare hands? Inviting him into your village, your home? Allowing yourself to think that he was somehow different? Finding ways to justify your involvement with him?
Azriel may not have been responsible for the attacks himself, but his kind were. You didn’t know him. Didn’t know what he was capable of. For all you were aware, your warming to him had been carefully manipulated by him, by magic. For all you were aware, he could have an extensive list of human girls that he’d softened and lured. He could be using you for something.
You didn’t want to think about what. Didn’t want to know.
What you did know was that you couldn’t see him anymore. Dahlia was some sort of sign that your dealings with the fae had to stop. What you had with Azriel needed to stop—
“It hits a little close to home, doesn’t it?” Your father’s soft voice reached you from the doorway. Amidst your reeling thoughts, you hadn’t heard him follow you out.
You sucked in a huge gulp of fresh air and pivoted to face him. “It does,” you agreed. “I’m sorry if I disappointed you by running out of there.”
He shook his head, took a step closer. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I felt it was necessary for you to see just what a single faerie was capable of. That doesn’t mean I expect you to be unfeeling and unaffected. That sight in there is…it’s terrifying. And gods, if it were you lying on that table—” he cut himself off, swallowing hard. It was a rare thing for him to share such sentiments with you. That was as close as he’d allow himself to get.
So you nodded, letting him know that you got it. He was terrified of you meeting the same fate that poor Dahlia had.
The moment hung between you, thick as the sticky night air. And then you were taking the plunge and asking the question that lived somewhere deep and heavy inside you, trying to claw its way out.
“Was it like that when Mama was attacked?” you studied your father, waiting for him to flinch, grimace, something. “When she was attacked by a faerie, did she…did she look much like Dahlia does?”
A gruesome question, and perhaps an unfair one.
But for the first time in your life, you needed to know — the gory details. How bad it had been.
Your father pursed his lips, staring back at you. For a moment, you thought he might not answer.
But then he shook his head. Shoved his hands into his pockets. He looked…vulnerable.
“No,” he answered, his voice laced with something you couldn’t grasp. “No. There was far less left of your mother after her attack. Nothing of the woman I had loved.”
Before you could answer, he turned and trudged back inside.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Three weeks in a row.
Three weeks in a damn row, the curtains had remained shut at Y/N’s bedroom window.
Azriel thought his need to see her was starting to eat him alive.
But gods, he missed her. He missed her curiosity, that she did not seem to fear him. Missed that he could lose hours talking to her about everything and nothing. Missed her scent, the taste and feel of her lips—
He heaved a sigh, sprawling back in his bed and running a hand over the panes of his bare stomach. His blood thudded and thrummed in his veins. Burned too hot.
He knew, at least, that she was well, only from the rare glances he caught of her from the sky above the village. Seeing her and not being able to swoop down and speak to her was a whole torture of its own. But if the curtains were closed, that meant it wasn’t safe. The last thing he wanted was to get her into trouble.
Still, that didn’t stop his bones from feeling too hot with need, his heart too heavy—
Another quiet sight escaped him, the pads of his fingers stroking absentmindedly over his abdomen. It felt entirely out his control that his thoughts quickly ventured down the same avenue they’d been walking for three weeks, now. Yet again recalling that conversation he and Y/N had had when he’d last been with her. The broadened confidence that had lain within her actions.
She’d asked him about lovers. She’d kissed him deeply, yearningly, and had he not stopped her, she would have taken it further. He knew she would have — knew it from the way her scent had changed.
Gods, that scent. He was sure it had followed him everywhere these past weeks. It would drive him mad yet. The scent of fresh summer air and sweet, ripe apples. It was perfect, and mouthwatering, and Cauldron boil him, Azriel wanted more. A touch. A taste—
A low noise rumbled in his chest as his cock instantly hardened. This was why it was best to keep his mind occupied. Because as time went on, so too did his growing, strengthening, snowballing attraction for the human woman.
She was likely unaware of what affect she truly had on him.
With only the covers draped over his naked body, the light brush of the fabric against his hardened length was too much. He kicked them away, glancing down at his body’s reaction to the mere thought of Y/N. Nothing to do with him not having had sex for a while now.
All to do with the fact that he wanted Y/N. Badly.
He wrapped a hand around his cock, releasing a hushed moan at the touch. And as his thumb mopped up the precum at the head, and he began to pump slowly, languidly, he closed his eyes and imagined it was her hand that touched him.
That mental image threw the unhurried pace straight out of the window. Fantasies swarmed him as he writhed on the mattress and bit down on his husky, growling moans. Thoughts of Y/N stroking and squeezing and licking him, of her guiding him through his pleasure with filthy words and promises. Watching his length disappear between those perfect, full lips—
A shout shuddered out of him that he was too slow to suppress, his chest heaving as he emptied his cock onto his stomach. The pleasure was too much. He couldn’t think around it, couldn’t see anything but the stars that burst in his vision.
He didn’t know when he’d last cum so fast, so hard.
But somehow, he did know that no other woman, female, whatever, would ever be enough again. Only Y/N. He wanted Y/N.
He needed to find a way to see her.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Resolving to have nothing more to do with Azriel did not, unfortunately, banish thoughts of him. Nor did it banish the feeling of missing him, missing what you’d grown comfortable with.
It was hard to go from looking forward to weekly rendezvous to just…nothing. No social interaction, besides what you got from behind the bar of the inn. No personal connections.
It was for the best, you told yourself. In the three weeks since you’d been on the road with your father and his men, those images of Dahlia’s broken body had not left your mind. They haunted you as thoroughly as the sounds of Marin’s cries and wails. As thoroughly as those words she’d spoken.
The most beautiful man I’d ever seen.
Azriel was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. And while he may not have been responsible for Dahlia’s attack, or the attacks on the girls in your village…that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable.
The fae were a violent people. There was no getting around that. And you…you could not take that risk. No matter how much your heart yearned to do so, just to feel the touch of Azriel’s hands and hear the smooth lilt of his voice.
He was fae. You were human. It could never work.
So you kept your curtains closed, and you kept yourself busy. You knew Azriel must have wondered what was going on, why you’d been unavailable three weeks in a row. Soon enough, you told yourself, he was bound to get bored and seek connection with somebody else, and your brief brush with the fae would become a bizarre, distant memory.
You hoped.
Perhaps if you chanted it to yourself enough, it would come true.
But gods, you’d become so comfortable with him. Had found what felt like a real, genuine bond with somebody, like nothing you’d been able to experience before. It was no easy thing to return to loneliness, just you and the inn and your piano. Everything was suddenly too dull, too quiet.
At least your father hadn’t asked you to come on the road with him again.
His trips were getting longer, the further he ventured. Two days had stretched to four. You were more alone than ever.
Tonight, when the last of your customers had filed through the door, you were not in the mood to play piano, nor to read a book. Your frame of mind was a tricky one. You felt…restless and misplaced. Tired in your bones and yet wide awake and longing.
You tossed and you turned, kicking your sheets, writhing against your mattress until you were sticky with sweat. You wanted to pull back the curtains and wrench open the window, but…not at this hour. Not while Azriel might still be circling above, searching to see if you were available.
So in the dark, you let the hours tick by, waited for sleep to find you or…some semblance of peace. You listened to each chime of the village’s clock tower, making you aware of every hour you’d lain awake; one o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock. No passing time made a difference. Restlessness still commanded your body until finally, you’d had enough.
It was nearing four o’clock by the time you threw your sheets off you and stormed out of your bed, exasperated and fed up — by your constant thoughts that would not leave you alone, and how they seemed to control everything. What were you to do without the few hours of oblivion that sleep afforded you?
Was even this some power of the fae…to command your mind and drive you mad with sleeplessness and restlessness until you were losing yourself entirely, becoming an empty shell who lived only to harbour feelings for an ethereal being who saw you as some sort of toy? Was your longing even real, or just the product of magic?
You weren’t sure of anything anymore.
Though still very much night, the darkness had lifted just slightly over the village with another summer morning rapidly approaching. Birds were beginning to wake and sing their songs. It wouldn’t be too long before the milkman ventured through the village with his wagon, leaving bottles at the residents’ doors.
If Azriel had tried to visit, he certainly wouldn’t be around any longer — not with the world waking up.
So you resigned yourself to the fact that you wouldn’t be sleeping. You threw a robe over your nightgown and trudged down the stairs, irritated and ill at ease. You headed straight for the back door, to your small yard that was just as grey and dull as everything else. At least the air would be fresh. Somewhat.
Though tinged with the smells of the countryside, it was nice to feel it wash over you. Cool, in the absence of the sun, and yet not cold. You slumped down onto the wooden bench against the wall and rested your head back, closing your eyes.
How, you wondered, had you been foolish enough to land yourself in such a predicament? How had you gone from being some human, village nobody, to brushing arms with the very beings you’d been raised to despise? It had to be magic that had weaved its way into your mind. Perhaps Azriel hadn’t meant to bewitch you, but he had. Perhaps it was some natural facet of his kind that he had no control over, that you’d fallen victim to. You’d heard stories of the kinds of fae who were love talkers — Gancanagh — whose sole magic was to pour sweetened words into women’s ears and so thoroughly seduce them until they were nothing more than their feelings. Could that be what Azriel was? Could he have—
A thud ripped you from your thoughts so abruptly that you jolted, your eyes flying open.
Just in time to see Azriel jump down from the opposite wall, feet landing smoothly on the cracked concrete ground of the yard.
You stared at him, knocked speechless, for a moment, by the mere sight of him. You couldn’t deny that you’d missed gazing upon his brilliance. The dark leathers and flawless appearance. The shadows.
But you quickly yanked yourself out of it, shaking your head. You would not be bewitched or love-talked or…whatever. Not again.
“It’s so good to see you,” Azriel breathed, cleaving the silence.
But you were up on your feet, still shaking your head, suddenly cold all over. “You can’t be here.”
“I checked the village before I came down,” he stepped closer. “All is fine—”
“No,” you interrupted. “You need to leave.”
He paused, seeming to take his time studying you. His brow furrowed at your guardedness, the way you crossed your arms over your chest and eyed the distance between yourself and the door.
“I don’t understand…” he murmured, taking a step closer. “Where have you been? What’s happened?”
The backs of your legs hit the bench in your attempt to back up. “None of that matters. You just need to stay away from me. Leave, and don’t come back.”
Surprise seemed to steal him so suddenly that it gave you an opening the move. You made to cross your way back to the door, to get yourself inside. Locks were no use against his ability to winnow, but at least you could find a weapon in there, should you need it.
But Azriel was stepping closer just as fast, his warm hand closing around your elbow in a gentle yet firm touch. Gods, you’d missed that touch—
“Don’t,” you snapped, recoiling. “Do not touch me—”
“Y/N, just look at me. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Why?” Pivoting to face him didn’t ease his grip even a little. “So you can charm me into believing you’re not dangerous?”
A muscle in his jaw ticked, his eyes blazing. “I never claimed not to be dangerous. But I am not a danger to you.”
A brusque, almost hysterical laugh broke from you. “Resorting to faerie riddles? How convenient—”
“Y/N—”
“Let me go.”
This time, when you yanked your arm back, his hand fell. You didn’t wait around to see his reaction as you darted through the door and slammed it shut, locking it with trembling hands.
But when you turned, he was right there in front of you, in your fucking house. You backed yourself up against the door to stop your body colliding with his.
“Get out,” you breathed. “I mean it. Get away from me.”
Slowly, he rose his hands in a placating manner. There was pleading in his tone as he carefully bit out, “I just want to talk to you. Please. Tell me what I’ve done.”
You stared at him, pressing your palms flat against the door. It hurt so, so badly that you wanted to hear him out. Wanted to wipe that crestfallen, devastated expression from his face and hold his hand and talk to him and kiss him—
No, no, no. You shook your head, shook the thoughts away. Azriel watched with wide eyes.
“I am not a danger to you,” he said again, slowly lowering his hands. “But if that’s what you’re worried about…” smooth as a damn waltz, he unsheathed a blade, sharp enough to slice through the sky itself. He gripped the hilt, holding the beautiful weapon out to you. “Take this. It is the only thing I am currently armed with, and if at any point you feel in danger, you have my permission to stab me with it. I just want to talk.”
Your gaze flicked between the blade and his face, unsure and upset. Upset, because you knew that the longer you spent in his presence, spent listening to his voice, the harder it would be to remember the driving force behind your hostility. The harder it would be to convince him to leave and never return.
But perhaps the key to that was not being hostile towards him, but rather, making him hostile towards you. That would be easier. You had never been completely honest with him — about who your father was. Maybe fessing up to the fact that you’d joined him in his campaign would be enough to anger Azriel into leaving.
You jerked your chin at the blade, squaring your shoulders. “Place it on the floor and step away.”
He didn’t hesitate. A shadow snaked out, coiling around the dagger and easing it to the floor with barely a noise. And then Azriel stepped back, and back, and back. Until he was pressed against the wall opposite you.
He didn’t move an inch as you reached for the knife and took it into your hand. The feel of it was weighty and foreign — and beautiful.
“I just want to talk to you,” Azriel said again, his voice gritty. “Tell me what happened. Tell me what…what’s changed.”
You met his eyes, squaring your shoulders as you admitted, “I wasn’t completely honest with you.”
His face showed no reaction. He didn’t even stir. Just stared back at you and spoke clearly, carefully. “Alright. Talk me through that.”
“We once discussed a band of humans who are raising a cause against the fae. Do you remember?”
“I do.”
“I never told you that it is my father who set up the cause. He is the one behind the campaigns. He is the one who takes his men village to village and spreads word of the evil deeds of the fae. He’s behind it all.”
A heavy silence filled the space between you. Azriel stared at you, his expression unreadable. This was the moment he would curse you for keeping the truth from him. The moment he would leave and never look back.
Except, all he did was nod his head once. Like you’d merely offered him a droll comment about the weather.
“Do you not understand what I’m telling you?” you pushed. “I sat up on that hill with you and discussed the matter when I knew the entire time who you were talking about. What they were doing. I deceived you. Kept it from you.”
“There are things you don’t know about me, too,” he answered quietly. “Things that I, for certain reasons, have not told you yet. I would be foolish to assume the same wouldn’t be the case for you,” he stared at you, head-on. Unflinching. “I know better than anybody, Y/N, that you cannot help who or what you come from. I won’t judge you for it, just as I’ve asked you not to judge me.”
Gods, he was so damn reasonable. So much more…worldly and mature, than the human men you knew in the village.
Then again, Azriel had centuries of life on them.
“I’m not angry that you didn’t tell me,” he studied you. “I can understand why you’d be cautious—”
“My father took me on his campaign three weeks ago. Took me on the road with him and his men.”
 It was that which seemed to really stop Azriel in his tracks. Something — the slightest thing, a tiny reaction — flared in his eyes. You weren’t sure what it was.
Good. This was good. Maybe now he would get the point, that you and he needed to stop seeing each other.
“Night after night, I sat and listened to what my father had to say. To what he knows,” your hand gripped hard at the knife’s hilt, like it was the only thing grounding you and making you able to speak. “None of it was stuff I hadn’t heard before. I even resented listening to it. I curled myself up in a corner and repeated to myself over and over that whatever was being said, you were not like that. You were not the kind of fae of which my father spoke.”
Azriel’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I am not. Just as I told you.”
“I found it frustrating to hear him tarnish all of your people with the same stories when you had proved to me otherwise. That some fae could be good. That I had been ignorant. And then,” a short laugh rasped out of you, “and then, as if the universe was trying to send me some sort of message, a man came looking for us and said we needed to accompany him somewhere. And we did. My father, a member of his group, and myself. We followed this man to a house in that village, and I knew it was bad from the other end of the street. I could hear the cries coming from within that house, the wailing.”
That information was met with a wall of silence — as though Azriel was biting back his words and waiting for you to finish your story before he would deign to speak. Even if the rigid set of his shoulders told you he desperately wanted to do otherwise.
“There was a girl’s body in that house.” Merely recalling the image of Dahlia had a lump rising in your throat. You silently begged your eyes not to tear up. “The body of a fourteen-year-old girl. A child. A fae male had attacked her, and her poor mother had seen the entire thing.”
Azriel swallowed. “That’s awful—”
“She told us exactly what she saw. Described the faerie to us. How he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, with dark eyes and golden skin and such a charming demeanour. How her daughter hadn’t stood a chance, because he was already weaving his way into her mind and appealing himself to her. Making her think that he was no threat. Because his beauty, his allure, was above anything else.”
“And…what are you saying?” Azriel asked bleakly. “That you think it was I who attacked that girl—?”
“No, but it was a faerie! It’s always the fucking fae!”
The words left you so angrily, so loudly, that you realised you’d been waiting for someone to yell them at. That they burned inside you, and they hurt. You felt…foolish. Betrayed.
And Azriel appeared to read all of that on your face. He swallowed again, hard, balling his fists at his sides like it took everything in his power to hold himself back and not approach you.
“I never once denied that faeries are capable of such atrocities,” he stared at you. “Not once. I simply asked you to acknowledge that there is good and bad in all people, whatever we are. It’s not as black and white as the fae just being bad.”
“And yet,” your voice was cold, “I haven’t been presented with anything to say otherwise.”
That might have been a low blow. You were guessing it was, from the way Azriel physically flinched, before schooling his features.
Because he…he was evidence of good, wasn’t he? He certainly had been, before the situation with poor Dahlia. He’d shown you that he was tender and soft, patient and kind. It had been enough for a while.
But you had more or less just said that it had never been enough at all. And that seemed to bother him more than anything else.
“You and I are worlds apart,” you added, sounding weaker. “Whatever or whoever you are…we simply have no business getting involved with one another.”
“That’s bullshit.” In a flash, Azriel was pushing off the wall. He strode forward a couple of steps, before thinking better of it and stopping in his tracks. Ferocity turned his golden skin a ruddy hue. “I don’t care what sides of the wall either of us fall on. What matters is that I feel right around you. I feel alive because of you. If we have no business getting involved, tell me why I cannot sleep for having constant thoughts about you. Tell me why you have consumed me as though you have bewitched me.”
You blinked, almost — almost — wanting to laugh. The description was one you absolutely had fitted to him. To consider that he’d come to the same conclusion about you—
“I swear to you that I have never used any sort of faerie sway to appeal myself to you,” he continued. “What we feel for one another is genuine. I keep coming back to you because I ache for you. And I don’t judge you one bit for thinking badly of my kind — especially after what you saw on your father’s trip. It’s awful, and I abhor what was done to that girl. But I beg of you, Y/N — please. Do not paint me in the same light.”
Each word pelted you like hailstones, the impact of them sending a shiver coursing down your spine. So quickly, your body wanted to falter, to fold, to go marching over to him. It took every shred of effort to stand your ground and grip onto the knife as though your life depended on it.
“I’m not trying to invalidate what you’ve seen, what you’ve experienced.” Azriel took another slight step forward. “I would never. I just…I ask you to give me one more chance to prove that there is another side to the coin. That good can exist as well as bad.”
You pointed the blade towards him, stopping him in his tracks. But you lifted your chin as you asked, “How? How would you prove that? I don’t want any faerie trickery.”
“And there would be none. I want to show you…for you to see with your own eyes…”
“…see what?”
“The good that I know. The good that I live amongst.” Pleading lay within his eyes. “Just give me one more night. One more night of your time to take you into my world. To show you more of myself. And if you still want nothing more to do with me…” Slowly, he shook his head, as though he could hardly bear the thought. “Then I will find a way to accept it, and you will never have to see me again.”
You shook — trembled — with the effort to rein yourself in. You didn’t understand this carnal…thing, deep inside you, that was drawing you to him. Like a thread in your body, connected to one in his, begging you to close the gap and go to him.
You rocked on your feet, eyeing him with none of the anger you’d felt moments before, and all of the caution at how he so often made you feel. Like you wanted to be in front of him. To touch him.
“I don’t…understand what you’re suggesting,” you said slowly.
Azriel took a single, tiny step closer. You didn’t stop him. “Let me take you across The Wall for one night. A few hours, if that’s all you’re willing to give. To my city, my home. Let me introduce you to my family. To everyone and everything that reminds me how much good exists amongst my kind, even when I sometimes doubt it myself.”
“Across The Wall—?”
“It would be entirely safe.” Another step, closing that gap between you. “I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. And if we get there and you don’t even want to talk to me, you don’t have to. I just…I just want you to see. You deserve to see the good.”
So many feelings warred inside you at once. Intrigue, curiosity, fear — such raging fear. Excitement. Maybe…maybe a little bit of hope.
Hope that you could still be proved wrong. Because you still wanted to be proved wrong.
You didn’t want to let Azriel go.
Swallowing hard, your eyes shuttered. What he was asking of you was huge, and that wasn’t even considering the logistics of how you would do it. “I don’t…know if I could.”
With another step, Azriel was close enough to touch. The familiar scent of him was almost enough, alone, for you to fold. The hand that held the blade lowered entirely without your willing.
“Why don’t you take the day to think about it?” Hazel eyes were a long-awaited caress against your face. “Your father is away for another night yet, isn’t he?”
Your gaze clashed with his abruptly. “How do you know that?”
Quickly, he held his hands up. “Just going by the pattern of his previous trips, that’s all. He doesn’t usually return until the weekend.”
Right. Perhaps you were being a little bit paranoid. You forced yourself to relax a little.
“Yes,” you concurred. “He’s away for another night.”
Azriel’s chin dipped. “So…how about this? You take the day to think my offer over. If you decide you want to accept and come with me, I’ll be waiting for you above. At midnight, on the dot. If you decide you don’t, and you do not want anything else to do with me…well, like I said, I’ll find a way to accept it somehow.”
You knew your resolve was already slipping, leaning more towards what felt right, rather than…that what you’d been raised to believe was right.
And it wasn’t as though it was an unreasonable offer. You believed that Azriel could keep you safe either side of The Wall. Your wellbeing wasn’t what concerned you in the slightest.
You supposed that it was that if you were to go along with this…there would likely be no turning back. You’d so far merely dipped your toe into the world of the fae.
Crossing The Wall would be like submerging yourself in it.
“Take the day to think about it,” Azriel said again, studying you closely. “All I ask is that you do think about it…properly. Don’t just…don’t just write me off. Please, Y/N. I couldn’t bear it.”
Something in his voice smothered that last shred of doubt that tried to hold you back. Your own voice was quiet as you replied, “Alright. I’ll think about it.”
In front of you, his shoulders seemed to slump with something like relief. Pleading still lay within his eyes. You weren’t sure, in that moment, if you could handle staring back at it.
So you instead held the knife out to him, ripping your gaze away. “You can have this back.”
“Don’t want to stab me?” he said, and your lips threatened to quirk up. You forced the smile away as he took the weapon back and sheathed it.
“I’ve yet to decide. I’ll spend the day contemplating that, too.”
So easy, to fall back into the natural rapport you had with him. Azriel didn’t bother to bite down on his smile.
But the smile then faltered, and worry clouded his eyes. “I really do hope you’ll give me another chance.”
“Why?” you blurted. “Why me?”
For a moment, he didn’t respond. And then he stepped away from you. Something in his stance told you he was readying himself to disappear.
“I’ll tell you why, if you come across the wall with me,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “I want to be transparent with you. But I have to protect my heart, too.”
“You—”
“Just think on it,” he spoke softer, gentler. “And get some sleep, Y/N.”
Before you could respond, a breeze rippled through the room, tinged with the smells of winter.
And just like that, you were alone.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
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vivwritesfics · 6 months
Text
No Need To Ask
Chapter Seventeen - Alone Together
The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.
But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Smut! Blowjob! Breeding Kink!
2K words
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For the first three days that they were in the cabin, Y/N cleaned obsessively. She cleaned the bathroom cleaned the kitchen and the bedroom, anything to take her mind off of just how terrified she was.
Carlos worked at the old laptop. There was an encrypted chat that the heads of families used to communicate. Every day Lando asked on the chat how Y/N was doing and Carlos always answered. On the outside she was fine, but he knew that wasn’t what lay beneath.
After three days, the two of them began to get antsy. Being cooped up in this tiny safehouse was incredibly uncomfortable. They both wanted to get outside, but it was far too risky.
After three days, Y/N and Carlos found themselves seeking comfort. Comfort that came from each other.
When Carlos wasn't at the old laptop he was in the kitchen, tapping his short nails against the wood of the table. He'd done it so much that he'd left marks in the wood, four little crescents carved out of it.
He was stressed, that much was clear.
There wasn't a lot to do in the cabin, not once Y/N had finished cleaning. She was bored, and she was running out of clothes.
"Do you think we'd be able to find a shop somewhere?" She asked as she walked into the kitchen. They didn't have a lot, and there was certainly no variety. Just tins of spaghetti.
Carlos shrugged his shoulders. "I'll have to when we began running out of food. Why, do you need something?" He asked as she leaned against the table.
She grabbed the hem of the shirt she was wearing. His shirt. But then she shook her head. Although no words had been said, Carlos understood completely.
He waited until she'd fallen asleep. Carlos had cooked them dinner and Y/N had showered. He then held her in bed as she fell into a fitful sleep.
Carlos grabbed a cap and sunglasses. The sun was beginning to set as he placed them on the bridge of his nose, but he had to be as inconspicuous as possible. The sweats and grey shirts were certainly helping.
Carlos walked out of the cabin, locking the door behind him. He peered through the window before he went, making sure Y/N was still asleep. When he confirmed that she was, he began walking, through the woods and towards the nearest little town.
Ever vigilant, Carlos listened to every little noise. He made sure he was completely alone as he walked through the trees, and then made sure he was aware of everyone around him once he was in the town.
Carlos was an incredibly recognisable man. But, at the edge of his territory, he was around people that were unaware of the power be had in their country.
He shopped, buying a range of things. From ingredients for dishes more exciting than spaghetti and clothes.
He didn't know Y/Ns size, having not been a very good husband thus far, but he still tried to shop for her. He bought her vest tops, cardigans, shorts and sweat. Everything she needed to be comfortable.
He went to one more shop, one that sold more recreational items. Carlos perused the shelves, but he didn't take too long, desperate to get back to the safety of the cabin.
***
Y/N woke up, cold and alone. Carlos wasn't in the bed beside her, he wasn't at the desk or in the bathroom. He certainly wasn't in the kitchen either.
"Carlos?" She called as she gripped the blankets.
The door clicked!, unlocking. Y/N could do nothing but watch, her heart beating, fists clenching the blanket as the door to the cabin opened.
A sigh escaped her lips as her husband stepped through the door, carrier bags on his arms. He dropped them and quickly turned to lock the door behind him.
Carlos pulled hid sunglasses from his face and his hat from his head. He looked at Y/N as he began rummaging through the first carrier bag. "Querida, you're awake," he said as he pulled out clothes.
Women's clothes. Woman's clothes for Y/N. She watched him as he put then away in the wardrobe, hanging them up alongside his own clothes. She had several thoughts swirling around in her head, unable to grasp onto a single one as she saw the garments.
Like, how his pet name for her had become almost sincere, no longer sarcastic. Like, how he'd noticed how much she wanted something of her own to wear and had put his life in danger to get it for her.
After the clothes were away, Carlos pulled two more things from the bag and presented them to Y/N.
Two books sat stacked in his hands. "I would have found you a chess set if I could have," he said as Y/N grabbed the first books.
The covers were beautiful, and she knew they couldn't have been cheap. One book, the one Y/N held in her hands, was in English, the other in Spanish.
There was no way Y/N would have been able to express her gratitude. She placed the book down and stood from the bed, throwing her arms around him. "Thank you," she whispered, her head against his chest.
Carlos hesitantly wrapped his arms around her. "I know I haven't been good to you," he said. "And I never expect you to forgive me for it."
She just continued to hold him. She couldn't deny it, couldn't think of words to comfort him, either. She squeeze and released, climbing back under the covers of the bed.
Y/N stayed up to begin the English book. Carlos stripped down to his underwear and climbed under the sheets. He wrapped one arm around her, pulling her in to rest against his shoulder as she read.
In their currently predicament, it was hard to find sleep. Bur Y/N and Carlos found themselves waking up at any odd hour of the night, hearts beating erratically as they looked around with panic.
They were rarely awake at the same time, one making sure the other was asleep. Sometimes she woke up to Carlos standing at the window, staring out at the world beyond the cabin.
On the fourth day, the two of them found themselves wanting each other. It was lonely and everything had changed. The only constant was each other.
Carlos sat at the kitchen table. He’d spent the morning trying to find the whereabouts of his mother and sister, as well as gathering as many of his men as he could. But it was hard. It was frustrating.
Dressed in her new clothes, Y/N approached him. She could see the frustration written on his face, and it probably would have been better to stay away, but she just couldn’t. She walked over and got onto her knees in front of him, hands settling on his thighs.
“What are you doing, Querida?” He asked as he stared down at her, subconsciously tensing his thighs under her touch.
Y/N let her fingers dancing across his sweats, dancing up towards his lap. But she didn’t let herself go that far. “I wanted to thank you,” she said. “You went out and bought me clothes and books, and I wanted to thank you.”
Carlos said nothing as she grabbed the drawstrings holding his sweats closed. She pulled on the strings, loosening them. From there it was easy enough to free him from his confines.
He was hard, painfully so. Y/N swiped her thumb across his tip, gathering the precum. She lifted her thumb to her mouth and licked it off.
Hissing, Carlos bucked his hips up.
When you've never done something like this before, it was easy to become anxious. She kept herself close to him as she moved her hand up and down, gripping him. She kept her eyes on him as she moved her lips closer and took him into her mouth.
Carlos set out a shuddering breath, head thrown back. "That's it," he breathed as she started moving. Slowly she moved herself up and down his shaft, trying her best to suck at the same time.
It wasn't the easiest thing to accomplish on her first try. It was easy to tell it was her first go of it, too. But Carlos was loving every second. He hesitantly moved his hand to her head, not pushing, just holding. "You're doing great," he reassured when she looked up at him.
That sight there was nearly enough to make him explode.
His grip on her hair tightened as he gently pulled her up. It stung, but Y/N endured it. No, not endured. Loved it. She loved it when he gripped her hair and pulled her to her feet. She loved the display of dominance he showed.
"Go to the bed, querida," he said as Y/N pulled up, dusting off her knees. He moved his hands from the top of her head, running his fingers along her jaw. "You're beautiful," he said as he pulled her closer.
She didn't see anything back, just kissed him. Although things had improved between her and Carlos, she wasn't quite there yet. But she was willing to give it a try.
Carlos pulled away, sitting back in his chair. He gave her one single look and she went to the bedroom, pulling off her top and laying on the bed. It was the way Carlos looked at her, a reminder of the power he had. But it didn't scare her. For the first time she found herself willing to obey him.
It didn't make her look weak, she realised as she laid on the bed. Listening to him didn't make her the weak, docile little wife that she maybe once was. Her listening to him wasn't an admittance of submission.
Carlos leaned against the doorframe as he looked at her, at the way she kept her hands laced together over her stomach. He smiled, but Y/N didn't see it. She was staring at the window, so Carlos stared out of the window, too.
There was nothing there. Thank god. He'd been ever vigilant since they'd arrived at the cabin, always keeping watching. Watching for anybody trying to kill him and watching his wife too. Since her safety was the most important thing.
Carlos strode over, stripping himself as he did so. His clothes littered the floor as he strode over to the bed and climbed on top of it, climbed on top of her. He grabbed her shorts and wiggled them down her lips, tongue between his teeth as he did so.
He settled over her, holding himself as he lined himself up. But, as he did, Carlos looked at her, looked into her eyes. "I want you to carry my son," he said suddenly, taking Y/N by surprise. "I want you to next boss of the Sainz family, after myself."
Y/N breathed deep and nodded her head almost desperately. She kept her eyes on him as he gently pushed forward, entering her.
It was a far cry from the first time they had ever had sex, from the night of their wedding. If she could have, she would have replaced that memory with one of these.
Carlos thrust into her, his jaw tensed as his hips snapped forward. He let out grunts and Y/N let out cries, but she couldn't stop thinking of their first time, and how much she wished this was it. Even though they were hiding away in the Sainz safehouse, it was still better than their first time together.
Although she was enjoying it, Y/N's mind was elsewhere. She let Carlos mindlessly hump her, finishing inside of her before too long. But that was fine, she could finish herself off when she was in a better frame of mind. The sex was still good, she just wasn't in the zone. But she still moaned and whined as Carlos pushed her towards the edge.
As soon as he was done, Carlos pulled out and grabbed his pillow from the top of the bed. He placed it under her hips and leaned forward to kiss her head.
Carlos walked out of the bedroom, heading back to the kitchen to start on dinner.
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