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azsazz · 2 months

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Midnight Muse (Epilogue)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,783

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Part 22] [Part 23] [Part 24] [Part 25] [Masterlist]

Notes: The end of an era 😭😭 Holy smokes I'm so happy and also sad I cannot believe it's over.

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**Seven Months Later**

“Azriel,” you sing-song, bursting in through the open front door to their house.

At the end of the spring semester Azriel’s father had bought 3rd Street apartments, and none of you had renewed your leases. His father hadn’t even tried to convince him to stay, but that didn’t matter to Azriel. The only thing that any of the five of you seemed to care about was that you’d no longer be living next to each other come summer.

Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian had found a house to rent on the outskirts of campus. Of course, the place is gorgeous, a modern number that looks like it costs more than Rhysand is making it out to be. He’d been adamant about the three of them staying together, no matter what, and he’d tried to convince you and Feyre to move into another apartment nearby, but it wasn’t the right fit for either of you.

You wanted something more homey than the new building, something walkable since you nor Feyre have cars. You already miss your old apartment dearly, saddened by what Azriel’s father is going to make it into. Sure, the elevator was a death trap that stuck, and sure, the walls were thinner than paper, but it was home, where you’d found love with your grumpy next door neighbor, though you’re sure in Azriel’s version of the story you were the grumpy one.

The five of you had spent your last night at the building together, drinking and eating your heart content in waffles and ice cream from Rita’s. It was the perfect last night to end your time in the building, but also the semester. You passed your Drawing 101 final with flying colors, the half swan portrait you drew was something you’d never thought you’d be able to finish. Now, it’s one of your most treasured artworks.

You’d chosen the swan because of their representation of the awakening of the power of self and self-esteem. When you’d started the semester you’d been unsure of your ability in the creative world, but after hearing the stories of so many around you, Azriel’s included, it awakened your inner artist, and your work only grows more confident by the day.

You’d also chosen to morph yourself with the swan because of their grace. Grace in dealing with others; Azriel’s gnarly attitude, Cassian’s cheekiness, Rhysand’s cockiness, Lucien’s snark, and Feyre’s hidden relationship, which didn’t last long, but still hurt your friendship.

You’ve come a long way since then, and are now in love with the neighbor that had been a thorn in your side for months. Azriel is as sweet as ever now, though he still distracts you from your work these days, but it’s no longer with rowdy music.

You turn towards the living room where you hear Azriel calling your name. You come to a screeching half at the sight of him and Cassian, chests bare as they carry a couch between them, moving further into the room.

Your eyes zero in on Azriel, his tan chest glistening with effort. It’s move in day for them and they’ve been carrying boxes from 3rd Street apartments all morning. He looks godly in the light spilling in through the large glass windows overlooking the yard. The parties at this place are going to be insane this year, of that you know. It’s all Cassian has talked about since they’d signed the lease, commenting how their housewarming party is going to rival that of Project X.

“Hey, princess,” Azriel winks at your wandering eyes and you can only beam. So what if he’s caught you admiring his chiseled torso? He’s all yours and you can stare if you please. Although, the sudden dampness between your legs has you shifting on your feet, Azriel’s smirk widening.

“Can you two stop eye-fucking for one minute?” Cassian groans dramatically, acting like he’s struggling under the weight of the couch. You and Azriel both roll your eyes at the same time, which makes you burst into giggles. “This thing is fucking heavy.”

“All right, let’s put it over here,” Azriel directs, guiding them a few more feet into the room. They place it in front of the giant TV Rhysand splurged one, and you know movie nights are going to be great in here. It’ll be just like you’re at a movie theater, without all of the extra bodies.

You and Azriel still have yet to break in the couch, often choosing the privacy of his bedroom (as much as the thin walls give you) over the common rooms he shares with his roommates.

Speaking of, there’s a thump coming from upstairs and the sound of Feyre’s laughter drifting down the staircase. So maybe this new house isn’t that much more private than your old apartment.

As soon as he puts his end of the couch down you’re flinging yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. Azriel laughs and swings you around before planting your feet back on the ground and leaning over to kiss you silly.

The flooding warmth throughout your body only intensifies as he steps closer, pressing his body into yours and rolling his hips a little, allowing you to feel his interested cock in his pants.

“Hi,” you grin when you part.

Azriel’s gold eyes glitter with amusement. “Hi, princess. How is your morning?”

Your hands snake down his chest, brushing over his nipples as you go. You don’t miss his reaction to your touch and it makes you giddy all over again. Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his pants, your smile turns sultry, watching his eyes darken. “Much better now.”

“Is that so?” Azriel quirks an eyebrow. He looks like he’s two seconds away from dragging you upstairs to his new room and breaking it in. You wouldn’t mind that one bit. “Do I want to know why you’re this cheery this early in the morning?”

“You already know,” you beam, rolling onto the tips of your toes to kiss him on the nose. When you try to pull away Azriel growls, tightening his grip on you.

“You can’t say that and not want me to fuck you, princess,” he says roughly, leaning down to whisper in your ear. His breath is hot across the shell and you shudder in his arms, eyelashes fluttering at his words. You have to swallow back the moan threatening to escape.

You startle at the sound of a loud crash, turning to see Cassian all but glaring at the two of you, having just dropped a box of books to the ground purposefully.

“I thought we were supposed to be moving,” Cassian tosses over his shoulder and yells up the stairs, “I can’t have both roommates fucking already. There’s still so much shit to move!”

“I’m coming,” Rhysand yells back and you crinkle your nose.

“Ew.”

It makes Cassian crack, a smile twitching at his lips. He has his hands on his hips and is still staring at you and Azriel in a false stern manner. “I knew I made a good decision to befriend you, (Y/N).”

“More like forced yourself into my life,” you grumble playfully, following him out to his Bronco, stuffed full with boxes.

“Just for that, I’m giving you a heavy box,” he teases right back, but he wasn’t kidding because your breath is nearly knocked from your chest when he hands you one. It’s falsely labeled ‘Az’s room’ on it because it feels like there’s a pile of bricks in it.

Azriel glares at his roommate as he rids you of the heavy box. You give him a smile in thanks, sneakily sliding out a box labeled ‘couch pillows’ instead. It takes you back to the day that you and Feyre moved into your last apartment, how the living room box had been the last one you’d brought inside before your very first—and terrible—run in with Azriel.

The smile you wander inside with is a nostalgic one.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

“Are you ready?”

“Yes!”

“Then why are you acting like I’ve already put the needle to your skin?” Azriel argues, sitting back in his chair.

You’re laid up on the table, shirt pulled up to your neck, waiting for Azriel to put the tattoo gun to your skin. You keep squirming, not quite comfortable on the cold table top, but it’s the best he can do while he’s still waiting to hear back about his apprenticeship he interviewed for last week. It’s been a few long, grueling days, and you thought you’d distract him by finally allowing him to give you your first tattoo. It had taken you months to decide, and Azriel hadn’t pushed you once about the matter, no matter how badly he’d wanted to put ink on your skin.

Now, the sound of the gun is making you rethink your decision.

You sigh loudly and Azriel shuts the gun off, placing it on the table. He rips the gloves from his hands and helps you sit up, guiding your shirt back into place.

“Maybe we should wait,” he suggests softly, though you can see the hurt in his eyes.

It’s not that you don’t trust him. No, you trust Azriel with your life. It’s that you’re overthinking the design you’d thought you wanted so badly.

“I want one,” you huff, sadly, “But I don’t think this is the one.”

Azriel soothes his hands up your thighs. “That’s okay, princess. There’s no rush. You don’t even have to get one, if you don’t want to.”

“I do,” you whine in frustration. You had it planned for weeks, this idea, and now…you just can’t go through with it. It doesn’t feel right.

You slide off of the table into Azriel’s lap, resting your head against his chest as he holds you tight. You let the soothing beat of his heart calm you down, the running of his hands up and down your back a relaxing gesture. It makes your heart swell, with the amount of love that you have for him.

Azriel brushes some hair away from your face when you pull back. He’s studying you with those intense golden eyes you’ve come to adore. You can read everything in those eyes; his annoyance, his happiness, his anger, his lust, even his feelings for you, but right now, you’re not all too confident in what he’s thinking.

“I want to show you something,” he murmurs softly and you frown.

“Okay,” you answer tentatively, but his hand is sure in yours as he laces your fingers together after helping you off his lap.

He guides you up the stairs and into his room.

“Azriel,” you tease, “I already know this room too well,” you say, alluding to his first night in the house where he fucked you over every surface in his room. It was pure bliss, one of the best nights you’ve shared.

Azriel puffs a breathy laugh and guides you to sit on the edge of his bed. You follow his instructions with obedience, covering your eyes when he tells you.

He waves a hand in front of your face to make sure you’re not looking. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Um,” your lips turn into the cutest pout when you think. “Two?”

He’s holding up none but he grumbles. “I was thinking two.”

You bounce giddily on the edge of his bed and his cock twitches as he thinks of you bouncing on his cock just like that.

“Easy, princess.”

You stop your bouncing but not your grinning.

Azriel strides over to his closet, pulling out the canvas he’s been working on, when you aren’t around, of course. Well, he only dares pull it out around you when you’re fast asleep in his bed. It’s consumed him day and night, and finally, his masterpiece is finished.

“What is it?” you ask giddily, unable to rein in your excitement or the butterflies in your stomach.

You hear Azriel’s laughter as he moves closer. “If I told you, that would defeat the whole purpose of me asking you to close your eyes, princess,” he tuts and you swear you can hear him rolling his eyes. “But you can open them now, Miss Impatient.”

“That’s my middle name—” your words stick to your throat as you stare at the canvas he’s holding in front of you.

You’re in awe, struck by the lines so confidently drawn. You’re transported back to the night of his exhibition, when he’d shown you the blackest parts of his soul, put on canvas.

Similarly to the centerpiece of the show, the charcoal drawing he has in front of you are two hands intertwined. His, with his rough scars, clutching tightly to a flawless hand, a feminine hand.

Your hand.

Azriel shifts nervously on his feet. All you’re doing is staring, open-mouthed, and he’d normally take that as a good sign, but when tears well your eyes his heart pinches in his chest.

“It’s,” you choke, pressing a hand to your aching heart. “It’s so beautiful, Azriel.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief, only managing to move the canvas out of the way when you launch yourself into his arms, sobbing into his chest. He leans it against the edge of his bed and tucks you tightly into his arms, pressing soft kisses to your forehead.

“Shhh, princess. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m crying because it’s perfect,” you pull away and he’s wiping softly at your cheeks. Your eyes are red-rimmed and he hates that but he loves the way it makes your eyes pop. He studies them for a little longer, committing it to memory, something to sketch for later. “You’re perfect. And I—I love you.”

His attention snaps onto your words, holding onto them like they could slip away like a shadow. You haven’t said that before, neither have you. And he’s been wanting to say it for so long now, was going to so many times but it never felt like the right moment.

And it’s now that he realizes that there was never going to be a better moment than any of the times his lips formed the words, only for nothing to come out. He should’ve said it when he felt it because he knows you don’t care about the moment being this perfect thing, for fucks sake you’re crying in his arms right now and you’re telling him that you love him for the first time.

He is such an idiot sometimes.

“I love you too, princess,” he admits in a rasp, throat thick with the words. He’s never felt something this strongly for someone before. He wants to be around you all of the time, wants to hold you and touch you and taste you. You consume him, mind, body, and soul.

You’re there, tattooed on his fucking soul, inked in the love he hadn’t known he was missing until you met. The darkness that consumed him was a starless sky, a void waiting to be filled. You. You are the moon and the stars lighting him up, brightening his days.

He fucking loves you. So, so much.

“Yeah?” you ask, your soft crying turns to happy tears, ones he can’t help but to kiss as they roll down their cheeks. “You love me?”

“I love you, (Y/N),” Azriel says, “I think maybe I always have.”

“That’s so not true,” you laugh wetly, trying to swat at his chest. Azriel catches your hand in his and kisses your palm, golden eyes gleaming.

“Okay,” he concedes with a grin, “Maybe not always, but for a long time now.”

You shake your head fondly. Your eyes dart away from him in your sudden nervousness. “Az?”

“Yeah, princess?”

You look at the picture once more, admiring it. It’s utterly perfect, just like him.

Pointing at it, you say, “That. I want that as my first tattoo.”

Azriel stares, shocked. “Are you sure? You know I’ll give you any tattoo that you want, but I need you to be one hundred percent positive. I don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I won’t,” you shake your head in disagreement and the softness in his eyes makes your heart swell. He looks like he can’t believe you’re real and you’re his. You’ll make him believe it and more. Later, you want to hear him say those three magical words while he’s pinning you to his sheets. Now, you want a tattoo. “This has to be the tattoo, Az. It’s us. I want us.”

He kisses you firmly on the mouth. Desperate.

“I want us too.”

“Then let’s do this thing, Az. I’m ready.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycries @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl @helensophie @isa1b2h3 @viatorem-maris

#midnight muse #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #tattoo artist!azriel #artist!azriel #art school au #acotar au

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betterlifeinoverall-rethabilep · 2 years

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Lemonade Is Sour-Sweet

At Times Stare At Your Problems, Then Laugh Your Them Away! They Will Be Astound, Then Request You To Act Like You Receive Them!! That’s Why Lemonade It’s A Juice!! For Lemons Are No Longer Sour, But Sweet!! Like, Shares and Follow Please don’t forget to comment

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doyouknowthemuffinmaam · 4 months

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Percy “pay your fucking child support” Jackson refusing to pray to Poseidon even in the most dire circumstances is brilliant and in perfect keeping with his character so far.

Bc Percy “pay your fucking child support” Jackson has already voiced his disapproval and displeasure with godly parenting multiple times and in multiple ways in complete contrast to Annabeth and her devotions.

Percy understands that yes, Annabeth, they are just kids and Zeus turning his daughter into a tree instead of just saving her was bullshit. Yes, Annabeth, they are just kids and her mother putting her in mortal peril as a punishment for something HE did is fucked up. No, he’s not going to pray to Poseidon, his father, to save him bc that shouldn’t be something he should have to ASK for from a parent.

I’m just really looking forward to his fuck the gods attitude gradually deprogramming Annabeth, while it compares and contrasts in equal measure to Luke’s ultimate mission.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo tv show #disney plus #annabeth chase #percy and annabeth

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spookysteddie · 4 months

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Always Comin’ Home to You

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

18+ MINOR DNI

dec: after a fight with his step-mother Gator comes home late, scaring you. His bruises tell you of the day he had and all he wants is to feel you.

cw: Swearing, abandonment, mental / physical abuse (Roy to Gator), domestic abuse (Roy to Karen), bruises, mention of death, implication of anxiety, murder, toxic religion themes, gator calls his step-mom a cunt, crying, fingering, daddy kink, dd/lg themes if you squint, Gator calls himself her God (what's the name for that?), unprotected penetrative sex, cream pie, promises. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 3.7k

a/n: I need Gator Tillman like I need to fucking breathe. This man is WOW. I just want to pet him and tell him he is, in fact, a winner and then suck him off. Anyway, I hope y'all like this heheh

...

Gator Tillman didn’t have a lot of good things in his life.

Between his mother leaving, his father being as asshole and everything in between, Gator was a little fucked up and very morally gray. Doing his daddy's dirty work in the hopes Roy will finally be proud of him.

Now, there was one good thing (or person) in his life, one human who brought out the best in him. One person who saw him for the person he was deep inside. The one who saw him as a winner.

You.

You were everything Gator could ever dream of, his perfect girl.

“Gator? Baby have you seen my sunglasses?” You pull some clothes out of the hamper, double (triple) checking that they weren’t in there. “Do you have them? Are they in your cruiser?!”

You hear Gators heavy footsteps before he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, “have ya checked on top of ya head?” You can hear the smugness in his voice and instantly you want to punch him.

You were an angel and subsequently the sweetest girl. Shit, you make Gator catch and release the spiders you find in the house because you ‘want someone to grant you the same kindness in life’. Whatever that means. But of course he does it, because the last thing he wants is to make you cry.

Well, that’s not true. He loves making you cry while your wrapped around his cock, fucking you so deep and hard that you can’t form a complete thought. Only then does he enjoy the tears streaming down your face.

But at the same time, you had a wicked attitude. One he liked to fuck outta you at every opportunity. And when you look up at him he knows it’s coming.

“Do they look like they’re on my fuckin’ head, Gator? Jesus Christ.” But he doesn't fail to notice you subtly check in the mirror to make sure they aren’t actually on your head. They aren’t, for the record.

Gator is not like his daddy. Does he have his fathers attitude? Absolutely. But he has never raised his hand to you outside of the bedroom, much to his fathers dislike. Claiming he’s watched his father beat on his step-mother and even though he hates her – only because she gave birth to his twin sisters, giving his father two more chances to fuck their futures up – he doesn’t think it’s right.

He balls his fists, nails digging into the center of his hand. He has too much shit to do today and, frankly, doesn’t have time for this shit. “Watch ya mouth bunny. Lucky my dad aint home to hear you take Christs name in vain.”

Gator is right. His daddy already doesn't like you, doesn’t think you’re Godly enough. He also seems to think you’re an idiot simply because Gator does everything for you, even down to tying your shoes. It’s something Gator likes doing, taking care of you as it helps ease his mind.

But at the same time Roy wonders how his son could catch and keep a girl like you. It’s emotional whiplash most of the time. Of course, Gator takes the brunt of his daddy's issues when it comes to you, never letting his daddy so much as look wrong in your direction.

You sigh, running your hands down your pink skirt, “look, can you please help me find them? You know my eyes don’t do well with the sun bouncing off the snow.”

His eyes soften, loving when you need his help, “I’m willin’ to bet they’re in the cruiser on the floor boards.”

Your face heats as you remember exactly why they’d be on the floor of the cruiser, your escapades from your little meeting at the police station last night. There was always that preliminary fuck before going back to Roys (cause God forbid Gator ever come stay at your place. His daddy needs him nice and close.) considering you don’t know how to keep your moans quiet. So, he tires you out, not so much that you can’t drive back to his place, but just enough to where you’re silent during round two and three and four.

The cold nips at your bare legs, winter just as brutal as every other year in this godforsaken state. You swear it never gets easier, winter, and the older you get the more you think about moving south. You think Gator would like the warmer weather, probably find the warmth soothing.

“Ah ha! Got ‘em!” Gator hands them to you with a huge smile on his face. He looks almost boy-like. It’s rare he has a genuine smile, especially when his daddy is around.

“Gator,” his step-mothers voice rings out from the porch, making you both jump. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing his frustration. “Stop yellin’ cause your sisters are sleepin’!”

“Karen, they’re at the other end of this fuckin house and your scratchy ass voice is louder than me.”

You can see her huff, “I should call your father!”

He sighs, turning on his heel, “I don’t think that’ll be a good idea. Dad’s… a little busy today.” Gator knows exactly what his daddy is busy with, not that he’d ever tell you. Terrified that he would somehow put you in danger.

You know that there was shit his daddy made him do. Things that forced him to come home with black eyes, bloody lips and bruises on his knuckles and body. It hurt your heart every time he came home like that, telling you it was nothing while he winces as he takes off his clothes.

Karen seethes from the porch and you see her look from Gator to you and back. Gator, who notices everything, sees it and steps in front of you, pushing you behind him. “Don’t look at her like that, Karen.”

That seems to annoy her more, “she better not be here tonight. You hear me? Don’t need your sisters hearin the stuff you two get up to at night.”

“Not any worse than dads hands hittin’ your face while they sit at the kitchen table.” You cringe at his statement, seeing Roy hit Karen more times than you can count. “You don’t run this house. Or tell me what to do.” He spits on the ground and turns away, waiting till he hears the door slam to speak.

“I fuckin hate her. She’s sucha little bitch.”

You wrap your arms around his middle, breathing him in. “Can stay at mine tonight if you want. Don’t wanna get you in trouble,” you murmur into his shirt. “O-or we can spend a night apart. I know we haven’t done that inna while but just till this blows over an’ we know she didn’t say nothin’ to your father.”

You know you're rambling, but all you want is to make Gators life comfortable and safe. You know there is a small chance that Karen will call Roy, tell him what happened, maybe even lie (she’s done that before) and say you upset her. If that happens, Gator will get it good, possibly another broken arm or dislocated jaw. That’s the last thing you want. You can feel you chest ache, eyes burning at the idea of Roy hurtin’ him.

Gator pulls your face back from his chest, making you look up at him, “don’t you be worryin’ bout me now. Roy ain’t gonna do shit and I don’t sleep when you aren’t curled up next to me,” he kisses your forehead. “I’ll put some feelers out to see if that little bitch called him. Gotta meeting at 3 with him.”

You nod, your hand coming up to fix his jacket. In reality, you just need something to distract from the burning behind your eyes.

“Hey? I’m serious. I’ll be fine, okay?” He lets you go to reach into his pocket, pulling out some cash and handing it to you, “why don’t you go get your nails done or something, yeah?”

You know refusing to take the money wont go well, so you take it, putting it in the pocket of your jacket. “Thank you, daddy,” you whisper out, knowing you aren’t really supposed to say that outside of Gators locked bedroom door.

He lets it slide, the day has been stressful enough for you. “That’s my good bunny. Now, run along and I’ll meet you here at six okay?”

You tilt your head, “no station tonight?”

“Nah… Jerry is working and he’s got a starin’ problem when it comes to ya. Don’t feel like scoopin’ eyeballs out. Too messy.”

You shudder but kiss him goodbye before getting in your car. You have a very bad feeling his 3pm meeting isn’t going to go how he expects.

…

You were right.

You knew you were right the second you pulled up to his house at six on the dot and he wasn’t home. You reach for your phone, looking to see if maybe you’d missed a text, phone call, shit even an email from your boyfriend.

Nothing.

Even when you try to call him, you're met with a voicemail. You can feel the bile rise in the back of your throat, fear making your skin itch. Was this it? Was this the time Roy sends him out there to do his dirty work and he doesn’t make it home?

He could be anywhere right now. Not only that, if he was dead, no one would do shit for him. No funeral, no service, nothing. His dad would go on and wipe his hands clean of his “loser” son, probably more than happy that the ties of his first wife are gone for good.

Oh God, what if he was dying, the cold freezing the blood onto his skin, frostbite settling in. He could be so scared, praying to the God he doesn’t believe in that you come find him. His clothes are probably wet too, sticking to him thanks to the sn-

A knock on your window makes you jump, a yelp falling from your lips. You look over, seeing the blue of his jacket in your peripheral and the sight makes you gasp. You’re quick to shut off the car, jumping out and getting a closer look at him.

He looks… awful. His right eye is nearly swollen shut, dry blood sticking to his split brow. There is a bruise on the other side of his face and under his left eyes, clearly he got hit in the nose.

“Baby…” this time you can't stop the tears from falling. “Baby what happened?”

He lets out a long, deep sigh, his hands resting on your cheeks. “Fuckin’ cunt called dad. Said I needed a lesson in respect. S’how I got the bruise on my left eye.” He wipes the tear that falls from your eye, his touch soft and kind, “sent me to do some shit across state lines. Guy beat the fuck outta me. He ain’t alive no more though.”

You sniffle, “is it just your face?”

He shakes his head but doesn’t say more. He knows you’ll see the rest once he gets you inside. Well … “we-I can’t let you sleep here tonight, Gator.”

He shakes his head, “it’s fine. Dad said so himself. Come on.”

And so he drags you inside, Karen looking like the cat that caught the canary as she watches you help Gator walk. You make a mental note to never forget this, never forget how she treats her step-son.

You push open Gators bedroom door, making sure to shut it silently and lock it before settling Gator on the bed. “Let’s get ya into some comfy clothes, yeah?”

You crouch down in front of him, making quick work of untying his boots.

“Baby, I can do this. I’m the one who's supposed to help you.”

That only makes more tears burn your eyes. You hated that he never let anyone help him, hated that he always had to be strong, couldn’t ever cry, nothing. You hated Roy for making him like this and you hated his mother for leaving and not saving her only son from a life of pain.

“Stop. Just-just let me help you, Gator please.” You pull at the laces to loosen them and make it easier to slide off his boot, your vision blurry from the tears in your eyes.

His boot comes off easy and you make sure you keep your hold on it so it doesn’t make any noise on the floor. Same with the second one.

You stand, unclipping his thigh holster and setting it on the nightstand where he likes it. Incase of emergencies. Next is his belt, coming off with ease. He stops you when you get to his pants, making you look up at him. He hates the silver shining along your waterline.

“I love you, little bunny.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it.

“I love you too.” Your voice cracks as you say.

You work on his pants, popping open the buttons with ease. Next you pull his shirt out of his pants and pull it over his head. By the time his shirt hits the floor, you’ve gotten a full look at his bare torso. A bruise is forming along his ribs, it’s really red and slightly turning purple.

“Jeez baby,” your hands gently touch his skin and he hisses a little. “S-sorry.”

He says nothing as he helps you pull off his pants, leaving him in just his boxers.

“Stay here,” you tell him as you collect his dirty clothes and go into his attached bathroom. You sigh as you grab a face cloth, turning the water on so it heats up. It, of course, takes forever for the water to warm. Nothing like shit water heating thanks to the frigid winter. But once it does you wet the cloth and grab the first aid kit and go back to him.

You’ve done this before, cleaned him up, you’ve even stitched him up. You’d like to thank the internet for telling you how to do that and you’ve gotten good over the last two years.

“S’is gonna hurt. Luckily it looks like you don’t need stitches. Just don’t move while I work okay?”

He nods, “yes, baby. Ya don’t have to do this. I know you don’t like blood.” This was true, you didn’t like blood at all, barely even being able to handle papercuts. But for some reason, when it comes to him, you can manage to push it aside. Cuts can get infected and when they’re on his face it means it could go to the brain faster.

You carefully dab the wet rag around his split eyebrow, gently clearing off the blood and making sure that you don’t resplit the cut open. “I think it split from the swellin’ but I don’t think it needs stitches.”

He nods slightly, “good. I was hoping it’d close on its own.”

You put some wound cleaner on it before you bandage it. He might have a scar there unless he leaves it alone. But knowing Gator, it’ll open again. You clean up around his face and causing a hiss to leave his lips once you touch his cheek and eye. You apologize, applying some cream that makes bruises heal faster to his face and ribs.

“That’s everything.” You force a small smile at him, tossing the wet cloth into the hamper and putting the first aid kit away. You get undressed, needing skin to skin contact. Then, you climb into bed, snuggling up to him, resting your head on the safe side of his chest.

The silence stretches, Gators arm around your shoulders, his thumb moving softly.

“I thought you were dead in the snow,” the words tumble out of you before you can stop them.

He thumb stills for a heartbeat before resuming, “but m’not.”

“I’m sorry this is the life you were forced into. It is not fair.”

He kisses your head, breathing you in for a moment, “it’s not your fault, bunny. You didn’t do any of this. Shoulda kept my mouth shut when it came to Karen. Just… smile an’ wave.”

You shake your head, kissing his chest, “not how it’s supposed to be.”

Gator rolls over you, forcing you on your back. He bites back a pained groan. “My sweet bunny, listen to me. I am here. I am safe. S’gonna take a lot more to kill me.” He leans down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

You let your hands slide into his hair, deepening the kiss. Honestly, you just need to feel him. He knows it and if he’s being honest, he needs to feel you too. He’ll never say it out loud, but as he laid in the snow, doing his best to get the fucker he was sent to kill off of him, he was scared.

Scared he would die and you’d spend the rest of you life wondering. He knew no one would fill you in and he knew his daddy wouldn’t have a service for him. You’d be alone, wondering what happened to him, praying to the god you don’t believe in that he’d come home again. So, he fought like hell and now, he really needs you. Needs to be inside you.

You pull back, breaking the kiss, “Gator, we can’t.”

“We can. Please baby.” Gator doesn’t beg, he didn’t need to when it came to you. Always more than willing to do what he says and give him what he wants. His begging makes you give in.

His hands push your underwear aside, feeling how ready you already are for him. Always ready, always wanting and only for him.

You pull him in for a kiss while his fingers find your clit with ease, swallowing your moans. He always knows exactly how you like it, fingers moving in swift circles and just the right amount of pressure.

“So fucking pretty when you’re at my mercy,” he pushes two fingers inside you, the stretch making your brain go fuzzy. “Looked so fucking pretty in your little skirt and frilly socks. My little angel.”

The way Gator is cooing at you, his fingers crooked up to touch the one spot that drives you nuts and you can feel yourself slipping into that headspace you both love. You’re trying so hard to be logical, knowing he’s hurt and can hurt himself further.

“Thank you, daddy. Bought it because I thought you’d like it.” Your voice is getting small, breathy.

He grins, kissing down your neck, “I love it. Love everything you wear. Look so pretty in your pastels.” His thumb finds your clit, a soft moan falling from your lips. It’s embarrasing how quickly you are to coming around his fingers.

“P-please. Gator please.”

He smirks, “use your words, sweet girl. Tell me what you want.”

You can feel your body heat up from both the coil inside you winding tighter and the embarrassment of having to say what you want. “I-I need to cum. So bad.”

The second the words are in the air, Gator pulls his hands away, leaving your orgasm to fade away. “NO! No, no, no, no please!”

He sucks a mark into your neck, his tongue licking over the spot to sooth it.

“Need ya to cum on my cock, baby.”

Before your brain can catch up, he’s sliding inside you. The stretch is something you haven't gotten used to in the last two years. It feels like he's splitting you in half, his cock filling you completely.

“OH! Oh my god.” You're already panting, squeezing him so hard he’s fighting to not bust prematurely.

Gator drops to his forearms and pumps his hips, getting right in your face. He’s so close you can smell the fruity scent from the vape he was no doubt huffing on before coming to see you.

“S’right baby, I am your God and I love when ya pray to me.”

You can’t help the way your cunt clenches, a moan falling from your lips that is just slightly too loud for either of your comforts. At the moment, you don’t care. You know Roy already got his fill of kicking Gatos' ass. He’s not going to worry about it tonight.

“Daddy, please. I’m so close.”

His hips are snapping hard, cock hitting your cervix with every thrust. He feels like he’s inside your throat and you can’t tell if his grunts are from pain, pleasure, or both.

“Not yet. Almost there. D-don’t cum yet.”

Your nails sink into his biceps, hips starting to stutter.

“Please! Fuck! Oh god…”

He smirks, eyes meeting yours, “yeah? I know how bad ya need it. How bad ya need me to fill this pretty, little cunt up. Breed an own ya f’ever? Hm?” His eyes are black and he looks absolutely feral. Primal.

His hand snakes down the front of your body, finding your clit with ease. You gasp, thighs starting to shake. You knew you weren’t going to last but you needed his permission. You craved his praise and being in his good graces. You’d let him do anything to you, that’s how much you trust him.

“Yes! Yes! Whatever you want. Anything.” You don’t even know what you’re saying at this point, too cock drunk to think of anything besides him and what he’s doing to you.

He laughs, seeing your eyes glazed over and tears of pleasure lining your eyes, “cum for me bunny. Do it.”

It’s all you need to fall into bliss.

His hand covers your mouth knowing how loud you’re about to be. His face drops into your neck as he cums with you, both of your moans muffled by each other's bodies. His cum fills you, leaking out as he brings you both down.

His hand slowly leaves your mouth, head lifting to look at you.

“I love you. I fuckin’ love you so fuckin’ much.” He leaves little kisses all over your face, trying to bring you back to him. “You hear me? M’never leavin’ you.”

You take a shuddering inhale, trying to form a coherent thought, “P-promise?”

You hold your pinky up to him, hands shaking while adrenalin continues to run through your veins. He giggles, hooking his pinky with yours, “promise. I’ll always come home to you. I will always fall asleep next to you.”

He looks down, flipping your hand over and checking out your nails, “I can’t wait for these pretty, red claws to be wrapped around my cock.”

Your chest lightens as you both laugh together.

#gator tillman fargo #Gator Tillman #fargo season 5 #fargo fanfic #Gator Tillman x reader #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman smut #gator tillman fic #gator tillman imagine #gator tillman x y/n #joe keery #joe keery fargo

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biblebloodhound · 2 years

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2 Samuel 1:4-27 – Express Your Grief

We need to become comfortable with talking about death, bereavement, and all the emotions that come with it.

“What happened?” David asked. “Tell me.” “The men fled from the battle,” he replied. “Many of them fell and died. And Saul and his son Jonathan are dead.” Then David said to the young man who brought him the report, “How do you know that Saul and his son Jonathan are dead?” “I happened to be on Mount Gilboa,” the young man said, “and there was Saul, leaning on his spear, with the chariots and…

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ratsonastick · 3 months

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Aggressive Love

Clarisse La Rue x fem!reader

Clarisse has never been very good at showing her affection to her crushes, so when one day she crosses the line she starts to realize she needs to confess to a couple of things.

Warnings: None, boring plot

A/N - TAKING CHARACTER X READER REQUESTS!!!

Not long after you arrive at camp you meet the Ares girl. Clarisse La Rue was not ashamed to make her name known, but the way she did it did not sit well with you.

Luke was walking you around showing you the ropes and trying to find your special thing, when she walked by.

“Seems like you got yourself a new girl” Clarisse spoke with her arms crossed, stepping in front of the two of you with her siblings by her side.

“Be nice she’s new” Luke spoke up and the girl rolled her eyes.

For someone big on first introductions, Clarisse was not cutting it for you. Her attitude made you scrunch up your face in annoyance and that did not go unnoticed by anyone.

Clarisse simply looked you up and down before walking away “She is not someone you want to get in a fight with” Luke spoke pushing you along.

As the week passed you found yourself getting along alright. The Hermes cabin fits you well, even though it technically isn’t your cabin. And everyone seemed to like you.

Except for Clarisse.

Multiple people asked her why she hated you, and truthfully she didn’t even know why. You never even talked to her, but that face you gave her said it all (or at least that is what she kept telling herself)

You are quiet, often found walking around, practicing archery, or helping your friends. You were not disrupting people’s peace, or getting into fights and starting arguments, like her.

She told herself that the reason she didn’t like you was because of how you two are the complete opposites, and that she had a feeling being together would only end badly.

So to make herself feel even better, she started getting into small arguments with you, just to prove to others and herself that she was right.

The first time she did it, it was at the lake. She saw you sitting there alone, no one else around, and took the opportunity to approach you.

She had a scowl on her face as she stood in front of you, blocking your view.

“Having fun?” She asked, which only made you raise your gaze and shrug your shoulders “Yeah I guess why?”

She scoffed, quickly thinking of a lie “Luke has been looking for you all over, he needed your help and you let him down. I was right about you.” She mumbled the last part, shaking her head and looking off.

Hearing this, you became worried, not wanting to upset Luke anymore you got up and ran to find him.

When you did he looked at you with a confused look, and you only then found out it was all a lie.

The next couple of days, Clarisse would follow you around, throw things at you, and start small brawls which you would never really even participate in.

Then finally one day you had enough.

She had followed you into the woods, calling you names and once again bringing up the fact your godly parent hadn’t claimed you.

You finally stopped and looked at her “Why do you hate me?” You asked in a fed-up voice which caught her a bit off guard.

In any other argument you always sounded sarcastic, or like you were having fun with it. But this time she noticed that you genuinely seemed upset. Maybe it’s because she crossed a line, bringing up your godly parents.

“Answer me.” Your gentle voice got her attention once more and her mouth opened but quickly shut.

“I have done nothing to you and yet you hate me every day.” Clarisse furrowed her brows looking down at the ground.

A feeling of regret started in her stomach, and she watched as you walked off.

For the next week, she thought to herself, what she should do, or if she should even do anything.

Finally, she decided to go to Luke.

When she sat next to him and asked for his help, he let out a soft laugh, leaning back with his arms crossed. But then he noticed how serious she was, she didn't have a scowl on her face, or any sign of annoyance, just a straight expression.

“She hates me”

“Do you blame her?” Luke spoke, picking at his food and shoveling it in his mouth. Clarisse only frowned and looked as though she was about to leave. “If you aren't going to help me then I'm just gonna leave.”

“Sit down” he mumbled and she did.

“Why do you only now want to become her friend?” Luke asked with curiosity, his curly hair falling into his eyes and he stirred his peas around on his plate.

“I don't know,” Clarisse answered, her voice sounding softer than it usually does. “You like her don't you.” He spoke up as he turned his gaze to her. Clarisse seemed startled by what he was saying, maybe she did like her, and was just … afraid of what the others would say.

Luke didn't need an answer to know he was right. 2 years ago something just like this happened with her and a girl in the Hermes cabin, except Clarisse never did anything and the girl continued to think that she hated her.

“If I were you, I'd maybe start by apologizing to the girl and giving her something she likes,” Luke stated as he started to stand up from the table. “Like what?” Clarisse mumbled, her reaction time a bit slow, which was strange for the Ares girl.

“She told me she likes flowers, maybe go pick some.”

Clarisse hated flowers.

“Okay”

That night Clarisse got one of the Demeter kids to give her some flowers, and she marched over to your cabin.

She knew that each clear night you always sat outside, so seeing you sitting on the steps to your cabin was no surprise.

Except the boy next to you was.

She faltered for a moment, feeling even dorkier than before, her arms dropped to her side, the flowers slouching slightly.

But she kept going, “Scram” she shouted at the boy with a scowl on her face. The boy sighed stood up and mumbled “Night Y/n”

Clarisse took a moment to stare at you, how the moonlight made you so beautiful.

Then she locked in and stuck out the flowers for you. “Here” she spoke again with that same scowl on her face, you nervously reached up to grab the flowers and gave her a small smile “Thanks … but why”

Clarisse sat down next to you, at first your legs touched but she quickly moved over. “Because I've been a dick.” she sighed and looked over at you.

She memorized how pretty you looked in her head.

You let out a soft laugh and nodded your head “That's true … I’m surprised you are owning up to it.”

“Don't get used to it” she chuckled, which made you turn to look at her.

“A little birdie helped me realize something.” she spoke again after a moment of silence “Was it Luke?” you asked and she nodded her head “How do you know?”

“Because if anyone else tried to help you realize something they'd end up in the infirmary and everyone in camp would know,” you responded with a smile.

Clarisse nodded her head, gently biting onto her lip trying to suppress her smile. “Yeah I guess you’re right about that.” her head dipped down slightly as she looked at her hands.

“Luke helped me realize how much of an idiot I was.”

You smiled as you looked up from the flowers you had been trawling around in your hands. You hummed slightly and nodded your head in agreement to which she rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue.

“I like you.” she mumbled finally, “Do you?” she hummed in response, and for a moment you swear you could see a faint blush on her face. “I've been told I'm an aggressive lover, I guess to some people it might be hard to know it’s affection I'm trying to show and not …”

“Hatred? Yeah, it would've probably been best to clarify that before throwing toilet paper at me.” You laughed softly which caused her to show more of a blush.

After a few seconds you nudged her shoulder “You’re lucky you're so pretty … or maybe I wouldn’t forgive you.”

She looked up at you with a small smile, your legs were touching slightly, but the two of you did not seem to care.

A piece of her hair fell in front of her face, and you were quick to brush it away.

If it was anyone else touching her, Clarisse was sure they'd already be dead, not only that she was sure that her father was probably groaning at how sappy they were behaving, but she couldn't care at the moment.

You kept your gaze connected with hers, and it didn't take long for Clarisse to act on her desires and kiss you softly.

A/N - y'all I don't know what I just wrote, and I know I didn't represent our girl right!!

#percy jackon and the olympians #clarisse la rue #x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson #wlw #wlw post

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cranberryjuice-posts · 2 months

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If your still taking requests, could you do a Clarisse x Fem Child of Aphrodite reader who was a cheerleader before coming to camp and still has her uniform.

She remembers she has it and trys it on, it still fits and she feels nostalgic so she goes somewhere secluded to practice her old cheers. Doing all the tricks and blackflips.

Meanwhile Clarisse wants to see her favorite girl but can't find her so she goes looking and finds reader doing all that stuff?

Thanks! - Marshmellow🤍

- 1! 2! Ready go! -

Pairings - Clarisse Larue x Fem! cheerleader! Reader

An - this is my last request YALL should do totes send more

You had done cheer since you could remember. Elementary, middle school, basketball, competition and football cheer, even to your freshman year of high-school.

That all changed though when you had been claimed by your godly parent. You figured only a summer at camp would be sufficient and you could go back to your old school and continue cheer! That back fired however After a group of monsters attack a cheer camp you went too.

You didn’t mind at first, giving up the sport. But now sitting on your bed holding your old cheer uniform you couldn’t help but miss the sport. Some of your favorite memories were made in it after all.

An idea soon came to you however. If you put it on and did a few tricks it wouldn’t hurt right..?. Only one way to find out.

A little tight around the chest, and the skirt was much smaller than you last remembered, the uniform still fit perfectly. Throwing on a pair of white tennis shoes and pulling your hair back into a signature ponytail with a bow you ran out your cabin.

——

The arena was empty as most campers were off playing capture the flag, conveniently your ‘ankle still hurt’ so you were allowed to sit out.

You let out a deep breath and adjusted your grip on your pompoms. Mentally prepping yourself before counting off. “1-2.. 1234——

“ Go team! Go team!

Who do we mean?

We'll say it loud,

Because we're proud.

P-A-N-T-H-E-R-S!

Panther pride! Panther pride!

We're steppin' up, so step aside!

We're the best; we're here to win

Panther power's here again!”

The feeling of doing an old cheer brought back an old sense of adrenaline. You shook your pompoms above your head with a wide smile.

“V-I-C-T-O-R-Y!

We're gonna win the game

And you wanna know why?

'Cause we've got spirit

And we're riding high, so

V-I-C-T-O-R-Y!”

Tossing the pompoms aside you let out a deep breath. Doing a round off back hand spring while sticking the landing you panted. It had been a while since you had last some the tricks showing you were out of practice.

In the distance you heart a slow clapping. Looking over nervously you saw clarisse sitting on the bench near by you. “Why didn’t you ever tell me I was dating a cheerleader? I mean damn there’s something’s I’d like to brag about” she teased making her way over to you, grabbing your waist and admiring your uniform

“You brag to much as it is you don’t need another thing to add to that list” you gave her a slight unamused look. “And by your good attitude I take it you won?”

Clarisses grin confirmed your suspicions. She kissed you, once again squeezing your waist slightly. “Yeah you definitely won” you smiled.

“Obivously, you really think I was just gonna let annabeth embarrass my cabin again? No fucking way— ” with one final squeeze to your waist Clarisse started to lead you out of the arena.

You tried to stop her mainly because of how exposed you were in your uniform but the other woman didn’t seem to really care.

YN - Clarisse half My Ass is out let me go change

Clarisse - nah it’s fine besides you look cute in your uniform

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse larue #clarisse my beloved #percy jackson show #pjo fandom #clarisse x female reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you

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yandere-3-sagau · 1 year

Text

To Take for Granted

Genshin Cult AU x Reader Angst

word count: 862

warning(s): genshin cult au, angst, neglect, death, mentions of suicide

—

They say to never meet your heroes.

Imagine you isekai but as your mortal self with no special divine powers. Only the knowledge of the characters and the game you played.

At first, the acolytes are amazed to be in the presence of the creator. They worship you, give you everything you could ever want and shower you in praise and affection.

However, the more you stay, the more their affection and worship begins to dwindle.

They begin to lose faith.

You don’t meet their godly expectations. You’re not as divine and all knowing as they had originally thought. They don’t gain any divine blessings or power from worshipping or devoting themselves to you.

You are not their perfect creator, you have flaws. You’re human.

The archons no longer prioritize you, choosing to take care of their prospective nations than to cater to you.

Their attitude change is gradual and you notice their declining interest in you pretty early on, but you can’t do anything to stop it. It’s not long before your lively temple becomes desolate with little to no visitors.

Although you’re hurt and disappointed, you are a bit grateful. You’ve read stories of imposters being slaughtered so you feel like being forgotten is better than being hunted. Still, you’re not one to stay where you’re unwanted. You begin to do research on how to return back to your original world. You’ve had your fill of Teyvat and you think it’s time to go home.

Eventually, you come to the conclusion that the only way to return is to die in this world.

Though you’re scared, you push through and find the most peaceful way to pass. A poison that will stop your heart in your sleep.

After traveling to all of the beautiful viewpoints of Teyvat one final time, you return to your temple and consume the poison.

When you open your eyes once more, you’re back home in your bed. The familiar Genshin Impact loading screen is open on your phone.

With a sad smile, you delete the app.

In Teyvat, the archons, adepti, everyone is panicking.

Plants are dying and the weather is unstable. Farmers are unable to yield any crops from the constantly changing weather. Monsters are becoming increasingly violent and restless and no one can seem to find an explanation.

Until one character remembers you.

Their supposed creator. Everyone decides to pay a visit to your temple on the off chance that you may know of a solution to their current issues.

The area around your temple is peaceful. Birds are chirping, the sun is shining along with a soft wind that keeps the area nice and warm. It’s a stark difference from the cold and gloomy weather all around Teyvat.

They knock on the doors to your temple but no one answers. After waiting for a while, they let themselves in.

They find you laying peacefully on the silk sheets of your bed. Your eyes are closed and you have a small smile on your face. If it wasn’t for your cold skin and the absence of a pulse, they would have thought you were sleeping.

When the archons announce the death of the creator, the cause of all of their problems becomes apparent to all.

The land of Teyvat itself, is in mourning.

The period of morning lasts for one whole year.

Even as the mourning period of Teyvat ends and all goes back to normal, the characters are still not at ease.

When they realize that you’re truly gone, the characters have no idea what to feel. They didn’t notice at first how much your presence truly effects the land of Teyvat.

Something about their world now just seems so artificial.

Without the presence of the creator, it seems as if everything’s become stagnant. Water still runs, clouds still float in the sky but for some reason nothing seems real. The characters feel as if they have no purpose, no drive.

They begin to notice things that they’ve never noticed before. The citizens in each of their nations seem to say the same things over and over again. The people they help with tasks, have the same reoccurring problem. It becomes unsettling.

The acolytes that have originally lost faith have become more religious than ever. They pray every single day, hoping that you’d hear them and realize how sorry they are to have neglected you.

Some have become so devoted to the point of studying how to summon or even descend a god. To forcefully bring you back to Teyvat just so they could see you in person once more.

They had beaten themselves up over the layer of dust accumulated on the furniture in your temple. Now, your acolytes come in personally everyday to make sure every inch of your temple is spotless.

But no matter how much time passes or how much they pray, they are unable to feel your presence.

Though disheartened, they understand. You must still be upset with them but how can they prove themselves to you if they never see you again? However, it’s okay if you’re not ready to come back to Teyvat. They will come to you instead.

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