#there's a message for all of you in the war room

[chicken-wayng]

No Strings Attached

I do not own 911, obviously.

Current Word Count: 7, 086 (or around 26 pages)

Track#1: Bi, Bi Bi

It starts like it's going to be a normal night. Buck is on his way over, Chris is setting up their usual spot on the couch, and Eddie has just finished up burgers for their dinner. Then Eddie's phone pings with a message alert that changes the evening:

Would it be alright if Tommy joined us? Sorry it's such late notice but he’s got tonight off and…

Eddie doesn't read the rest of the message. His heart feels weird and he suddenly feels a little hot. It's not like the panic attack he'd experienced when he was afraid Ana and he were moving too fast, but it definitely is as uncomfortable. It feels like everything sturdy was pulled out from beneath him; which was a statement in itself from a man in his field of work. His ears ring as he types out a short response of consent.

Why does he feel so weird about Tommy coming over? Tommy has visited before and had dinner with Chris, but adding Tommy to family nights felt different in a way Eddie couldn't properly word. It felt entirely unreasonable how his entire being suddenly rejected Tommy's presence… And lately even Buck's. Ever since he'd announced his newest paramour, it seemed all Eddie heard about. Tommy likes this Star Wars themed coffee place near the 118, Tommy likes dark chocolate over milk chocolate, Tommy likes scary movies, Tommy likes video games, Tommy likes Buck and Eddie feels sick every time he thinks about it. Just the thought of it is horrible and it only makes Eddie feel worse. It's a vicious cycle of destruction he can’t stop himself from participating in.

A knock at the door interrupts his circling for now, but it's the subject of his thoughts knocking so it's like ice on a burn; a temporary fix with lasting damage. Chris lets out a cheer, grabbing his crutches and making his way towards the door. Eddie makes it after the excited boy, just in time to see Chris throw the door open and yell, “Buck!”

Eddie motions for Chris to step back and tells him to go make sure the living room is picked up while he gets the guests settled.

Buck is dressed in a pair of well fitting jeans and a purple sweater that hugs his body comfortably. A bit of his collarbone peaks out of the neck and it’s tight enough that Eddie can trace it without use of imagination, as it elegantly rises and falls with his broad shoulders. It’s a thin, dark purple sweater that brings out the blue of his eyes and the blonde highlights of his curls.

Tommy clears his throat, as if politely reminding the two he’s there, before stepping up behind Buck and holding up a bag of sour patch kids in his right hand. Eddie’s happy Tommy thought of Chris, but his attention narrows in on the left hand on Buck’s hip and suddenly he feels angry. Tommy smiles pleasantly as he says, “We brought a treat for the little dude and,” using that offending left hand he motions to a case of beer Eddie hadn’t had the time to notice in Buck’s hands. “some for us.”

It is a petty side of Eddie that makes him channel his father as he says, “Oh that’s so nice of you man, but it’s just that it's late and I don’t want Chris to have too much sugar before bed. Also I don’t think I want to drink, you can if you want I just don’t really need it to have a good time.”

Buck looks crestfallen and Tommy looks… odd but Eddie is saved from having to explain his attitude as Chris saunters back into the room. A huge cocky smile is on his face as he says, “I beat your score! It was so easy.”

Eddie’s earlier happiness briefly returns as he watches Buck separate himself from Tommy to go check the screen recording Chris had captured, both talking so excitedly it's easy to ignore his current discontentment. Until he has to turn around and entertain it.

“So how was work?” Tommy asks, friendly as ever. Dressed in a casual, pink v-necked sweater and jeans, Tommy looks genuinely comfortable. Eddie had known him well enough to know that while he was content and happy with the current life he’d built for himself, Tommy still had something he had been working through the last time Eddie and he had hung out. It seems that in the few weeks he’d been dating Buck, he'd gotten the metaphorical job done.

“Surprisingly boring,” Eddie says with a laugh, glad to have familiar territory to discuss. After returning the question, Tommy regales him with a tale of his day and Eddie slowly begins to relax. Realizing he hadn’t made a plate for Tommy, he does so as he listens as Tommy’s no-good day finally comes to an end that leaves them both laughing. It’s so easy to like Tommy, he’s such a great guy.

Realizing he’d kind of cornered himself into not drinking (not even his normal one bottle with dinner), Eddie grabs orange juice from the fridge and pours three glasses. Raising an eyebrow, Eddie asks, “Would you like one too?”

“Of course,” Tommy says, the left corner of his mouth quirking up as he leans on the counter. Something about it feels blatant to Eddie, but he’s not sure what it is. It’s too obvious and he’s never been one to guess the glaring plot, even with the number of telenovelas he’s watched. “Please and thank you, sir.”

Eddie jolts for a moment, an unexpected thrill going along his spine and traveling to a place it shouldn't be at a dinner party with his son, best friend, and his best friend’s boyfriend. He recovers quickly, but the damage was done in two ways. Not only does his jumping cause him to overspill, but he knocks over the glass intended for him as well. The orange juice covers the counter and quickly runs towards the floor, luckily Bobby was his cooking teacher and one of his tenants was to have a cooking rag. Eddie was able to sop most of it, but his shirt and jeans would have to be changed.

Tommy grabs the sink rag and uses it to wipe the sticky up, his shoulder bumping Eddie’s in the small space. They work to quickly clean up the mess and with their combined effort it doesn’t take more than two minutes.

Eddie tsks, shaking his head as he says, “I’m sorry man. Boring days get to me. Dinner is done so you don’t need to worry about it but I’ve got to change. Have Buck set you a spot at the table. Tell him the green mats are in the wash so he’ll have to make do with the yellow ones.”

“No problem. Now go before it starts to feel gross,” Tommy responds with a laugh.

Eddie passes Buck and Chris on the couch, who both look up with questioning countenances before noticing the spill down Eddie’s front. Eddie goes to his room, taking off the dirty clothes and going to his attached bathroom to wet a rag. Once he’s acceptably clean, he grabs the first shirt in his closet and quickly pulls on a pair of jeans. Pausing to check himself out in the mirror, he realizes it’s a blue sweater Buck had gotten him for father’s day. It has the word dad (and all related synonyms) all over it, in over a hundred languages, done in different shades of blue and eclectic fonts. Mentally preparing himself to go back, Eddie tells himself, “You haven't done anything wrong yet.”

Although not much of one, the pep talk does its job enough to get him out of his room. Chris and Buck are still on the couch, chatting happily, so Eddie goes back to the kitchen. Tommy has set the table and is now standing there, looking out the window with his arms wrapped around himself.

Now it's Eddie's turn to awkwardly clear his throat in announcement of himself, and he watches how Tommy jolts. The larger man turns to face Eddie, a guilty expression on his face and suddenly Eddie feels like shit. Tommy is his friend, no matter how Eddie's day went he has no right to make him feel so insecure.

“You okay man?” Eddie asks, not wanting to overstep but not wanting to fall short.

Tommy smiles, one so self-deprecating that Eddie recognizes it from the mirror, and says, “Yeah I just got in my own head. I can't stop beating myself up.”

“Don't,” Eddie says sternly, knowing how hypocritical the command is. “You wouldn't treat anyone that way so you don't do it to yourself. Want to share a beer with dinner?”

Tommy nods, grabbing them each one. The weird ice wall that had gone up seems to melt, conversation flows better as Eddie finishes grabbing all the needed condiments.

“...Anyways, it all boils down to human error,” Tommy finishes.

“People,” Eddie sighs as he grabs Chris’s burger, splitting it into four. “You'd think with a computer with all of human knowledge on it, we'd be smarter.” Eddie holds up a finger to halt Tommy before he responds so he can yell, “Boys, dinner! Go wash your hands.” He waits until he hears them scrambling up until he waves for Tommy to continue his thought.

“Oh but why learn when we can watch funny cat videos?” Tommy laughs, a deep rich sound that Eddie thinks fills the room pleasantly. It’s enthralling. “Much more important.” Tommy licks his dry lips to wet them, and Eddie would like to say that’s what drew his attention to them but then he’d be lying.

This close, Eddie can scent Tommy and it’s intoxicating. An alluring mixture of sandalwood, eucalyptus, and Kraken - whatever soap he uses and the deodorant - and most importantly Buck. The lavender and rosemary of the herbal hair products and the bergamont antiperspirant (“Never deodorant, Eddie. Not unless you want to smell me after two hours!”) Buck keeps spares of in Eddie’s bedroom bathroom. Distantly, Eddie notes that they’re both Old Spice guys too but mostly he can’t stop focusing on the fact that Tommy smells like Buck, which must mean the opposite is true. Something about this triggers Eddie’s earlier bad mood and he has to look away or else he just knows Tommy will see it.

As usual, he’s saved by Christopher as the excitable boy exclaims, “Dad please?!”

“Please what?” Eddie laughs, looking up at Buck with an eyebrow raised. The dirty blonde blushes and Eddie has to look away.

“Buck says there’s a new Kung Fu Panda movie out!” Christopher explains with a sigh. Eddie shares another look with Buck, this one much less confusing and clearly saying, ‘Kids, amiright?’

Buck laughs in response, moving towards his seat. Eddie would describe Tommy’s laugh as enthralling, the sound was nice and he would never grow tired of it; but Buck’s laugh was addicting. It felt like the times he went without it were the most miserable parts of his existence. He’d do anything to hear it for the rest of his life.

“Did you catch the game last night?” Tommy asks as he brings their beers over from the counter, taking a seat at the round dinner table, between Christopher and Buck, and across from Eddie.

“The college playoffs?” Eddie confirms as he holds up the mustard and ketchup bottles and in a silent question if Chris wants either. When he was younger he was normally a ketchup only kid, but ever since he'd entered his preteen years Chris liked to have the option.

“What else is on?” Tommy responds playfully.

“Ain't that the truth,” Eddie laughs as he puts the wanted mustard on the four cuts of burger. Eddie passes the bottle to Tommy and for a moment their hands brush and linger for a moment longer than necessary. Eddie brings his hand back with a grunt of apology.

“There was a new David Attenborough ocean documentary last night,” Buck comments, before taking a bite out of his burger.

Chris gasps as he asks, “You watched it without me?”

“No,” Buck laughs. “I watched the game with Tommy. I was making a joke because he implied there was nothing better on.”

“Ohhh,” Chris laughs too and then says. “You and Tommy should stay and watch it with us!”

With this he looks at his dad with such puppy eyes that Eddie only shrugs and responds, “It's up to them but we've gotta work tomorrow so they probably won't wanna, bud.”

And now it's Buck's turn to use his own Labrador eyes as he begs, “Tommy please? I have a set of clothes in my drawer big enough to fit you as pajamas!”

Eddie knows exactly how Tommy feels even before he gives his answer, because he's been there a thousand times for Evan Buckley:

whipped.

Track#2: Bringin' da Noise

Dinner goes pleasantly and soon they're heading for the living room to start Buck and Christopher’s documentary. The two settle into their usual spots, and just as Eddie is about to sit in his he realizes that he can't sit there. Normally Buck is sandwiched between the two Diazes but he'll probably want Tommy to sit next to him. Eddie hangs back and when Tommy stops to give him a questioning look he simply motions to the spot and says, “Currently the best place in the whole house.”

Tommy snorts and takes the seat and soon they're all settled and watching the TV. There's basic conversation between the three, but really they don't talk because Buck and Chris are paying more attention to David Attenborough. It's surprisingly comfortable, almost exactly the same as their normal routine. 

Halfway through, both Tommy and Eddie are out of their beers and Buck’s out of his orange juice. When Eddie goes to stand and grab them a refill, Tommy stops him and says, “Let me. You just relax and I'll be back soon.” 

Eddie thanks him and goes back to watching TV. It isn't until Tommy is coming back ten minutes later with a piece of paper does Eddie realize how long it had taken him to grab the drinks. The source of his stalling is apparent, as he doesn't have the drinks and instead holds up a “contract” Eddie recalls all too well for the drunken night it had been written. 

It was after Shannon had died, and Eddie had needed nothing more than to get drunk with his best friend. Chris was at abuela’s so Eddie wasn't worried about letting his inhibitions go, and let go they did. Unable to recall the exact circumstances, somehow Eddie had gotten into an emotional state wherein he was complaining about being alone forever. Chris was growing up, soon he'd be 18 and then college and Eddie would be left with an empty nest. Equally as drunk, Buck had been reminded of a movie he and Maddie had watched where the main characters agree to get married if they aren't by a certain age. Long story short, they had decided to create a similar contract. Written on one a piece of construction paper for a project of Chris's, in the worst handwriting and so badly misspelled it looked like old English, was written,

I, Edmundo Diaz, of sound mine do hereby declare if by ages, 45 and 40 respetifly, we are unmarried then I will marry Evan Buckley.

It's simple and to the point, written big to take up the paper. Buck had doodled little hearts and flowers to border it and over the years that it had resided in the kitchen it had obtained a few cooking splatters of unidentifiable sorts. A piece of paper that truly should have been thrown away by now, yet Eddie had persistently kept on the fridge regardless of how many girlfriends gave him funny looks over it.

“Did you guys make a Wedding Pact?” Tommy asks, and to hear it from anyone else, especially a man of Tommy's stature and profession, Eddie might have been nervous but from him Eddie feels only a fierce protectiveness that makes no sense. 

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Eddie snappily defends them, crossing his arms. 

“Wait,” Buck says, swallowing and halting himself mid-sip of his beer. “You don't think it's a good idea anymore?”

Once again he's channeling his inner Golden Retriever to give Eddie the most pitiful look, one that has him scrambling to explain, “No! Not at all!” Somehow Buck's face falls further and Eddie further says, “Or, not no I don't want to marry you. I definitely do!” Seeing Tommy's joyantly raised eyebrow, Eddie further digs his hole. “Er, I mean I don't not want to marry you when- IF!- if the time comes.”

Tommy laughs, the joy and his eyes taking over his countenance as he says, “Oh my God, you two!” His own laughter cuts him off. 

Eddie's face feels hot and he distracts himself by putting the subtitles on. 

“It's a completely valid contract,” Buck says. “I would pay to have it notarized!”

“I would notarize it for you now,” Tommy responds. “If I had a printer for the finalizing paperwork.”

“Dad has a printer!” Chris helpfully offers. 

“It's notarized in our hearts,” Buck says with a dismissive hand wave. The conversation ends, and they settle into a comfortable silence filled with the narrations of Mr. Attenborough. Eddie feels like something has shifted, even though Tommy just sits down and they go back to watching TV.

Once the credits start rolling, Eddie turns to tell Chris to get started on his night time routine but stops when he sees him passed out with Buck. Both are laying in the same sprawling-fashion, heads thrown back and mouths open, tucked into each other like they couldn't sleep as soundly without the other - and truly they couldn't. Eddie lets the credits roll through and another doc play as he observes his little family.

And then his eyes glance next to him and he realizes he isn't the only one completely enraptured. Tommy has a soft smile and suddenly Eddie feels…

“What time is it?” Tommy asks, his head darting up as he realizes Eddie was staring at him. 

Eddie checks his phone, it's late. “12:46, we should probably get them in bed.”

Eddie stands up, his body aching from a good day's worth of work, so he twists his back to crack it and alleviate some of the pain. 

“I could help you with that really quick,” Tommy says. “I got my masseuses license.”

“Wow, vet, firefighter, pilot, masseuse; you're pretty skilled,” Eddie responds as he thinks over Tommy's offer. It's not like Tommy hasn't given him a rub down before, but it's different this time - he's Eddie's best friend's boyfriend now.

“Don't forget notary and best coffee maker at Jabba the Hutt,” Tommy adds with a laugh. “I like to keep busy.”

“Sounds like it,” Eddie says along with his own chuckle. “Hey if you ever really get bored I've got my hands full here,” Eddie waves his hands at his boys, before his hands return to his aching back.

“Oh I'd love to,” Tommy says energetically. “Anytime you need me let me know. I know it's a bit awkward me suddenly dating your best friend just as we're becoming friends ourselves and all, but I really want to be your friend. I wasn't trying to, like, use you for information on Buck.” Tommy's blue eyes reflect that he's telling a heartfelt truth. 

For an Ex-catholic, Eddie prays a lot. Currently he's praying for a metaphorical bell to save him, but since it's not coming he decides to just ring true. “I know that, and I didn't mean to make you feel like I don't want to be friends… it's just…”

And that's just it. Eddie can't even admit it and understand it himself, there's no way he can say it aloud. Thankfully Tommy takes over and charge, as he leans against the counter to nonchalantly admit, “You know, I thought you and Buck were looking for a third. I didn't realize you two weren't dating until a couple weeks into our friendship and right before he visited me at work.”

Eddie desperately wishes for another beer, just so he has something to distract himself with, but instead he raises and lowers his hands while his mouth gapes open like an idiot. “Shh-Whattt???”

“I mean, I was okay with it,” Tommy shrugs. “But it was a shock to learn you guys weren't-”

“- Tommy? Eddie?” Buck's voice is deep with sleep and he rubs his eyes with curled fists in a way that is both adorable and attractive. “We should put Chris in bed and get there ourselves. We all have work tomorrow.”

“Yeah, of course!” Eddie responds, jumping at the out. “I'll carry Chris to bed if you make sure he has all his school things together?”

Buck hums his consent and they split apart to do their familiar tasks. Eddie tucks their son in bed and by the time he makes it back to the kitchen Buck is already back. And with Tommy. The larger male has him backed up against the counter, panting breathlessly and blushing redder than Eddie has ever had the pleasure to see. Suddenly, it dawns on Eddie that it will be Tommy sharing his bed with Buck tonight and that he'll be the one on the couch.

And he wishes for midnight - even though it's already there. 

Track#3: Makes Me Ill

Eddie's circling turns into a whirling hurricane.

A curse to see Tommy with Buck. It had happened once before he knew they were dating, but now it seemed every time he went out they were on a date. During their shift after the sleepover, all he hears is about how much fun Buck had and how they should do that more often. When he takes Chris to school on their next day off, he decides to drive by Buck's apartment… only to find his visitor’s spot taken up by Tommy’s truck and opts to drive on. During the family dinner Bobby and Athena hold at their place once a month, Eddie overhears their hosts inviting the younger couple to a double date for later in the month. Once Buck had somehow forgotten his phone at home and they'd had to go on a call before he could grab it, when they'd gotten back to the house Tommy had been waiting with it and flowers, telling Buck, “not to forget about his dentist appointment after his shift tomorrow,” with an adoring kiss good-bye.

Tommy was becoming a permanent fixture and the thought of losing his position scared Eddie beyond thought.

It had been two weeks since their sleepover and Eddie had found every excuse to get out of having to endure another one. It wasn't that he couldn't stand Buck or Tommy, he just couldn't stand them together and not… well that's just it. He could tell his avoidance disheartened Buck, yet the alternative was something beyond words and incomprehensible. It was better this way.

So he did his best to avoid the couple while failing horribly. The first time it happened Eddie had to head back to the station because he'd left his wallet. Since it was the middle of the day, Chris was at school and the only hassle about this was the drive back and forth. When he'd pulled up and parked, the fire engine rushed out. Then as he was exiting his truck, Christopher's school called to talk about a bake sale. After 30 minutes (33 minutes and 24 minutes according to the call log) he was finally ready to head inside the house.

It was silent without the B squad and eerily odd without his team. Like going into a school or a doctor's office after hours, the same anxiety about being caught even though he was allowed to be there. That's when he heard it.

“If you keep doing that, I'm going to be late for work and we're going to be caught,” a deep voice says, followed by a rich chuckle. Although they've only known each other for a short amount of time, Eddie recognizes the voice easily as Tommy's.

A naughty laugh answers his statement.

Realizing just what they’re doing in the shower room, Eddie quickly backtracks, unwilling to let that image haunt him for the rest of his day. Not that him not seeing it helps, if anything it makes it worse, because now every time he goes to take a shower all he can imagine is what exactly he could have caught them doing.

The second time he's on a movie date with Marisol.

Pepa had agreed to watch Christopher so they went with something mature. Honestly, Eddie wasn’t too interested in watching a seemingly smart person make bad decisions and miss the blatant truth in front of them, so he wasn’t paying attention to the movie’s plot. They were about halfway through the movie and Marisol seemed to be enjoying it, so he simply leaned back and distracted himself by looking around.

There hadn’t been a lot of people in the theater to begin with, but after the main character had made a cringy decision over half of the little crowd had departed. Now it was just Marisol and Eddie in the front three rows and a couple in the back row.

From his position and the darkness, Eddie couldn’t make out the faces of the lovers but now that he was focusing on anything but the movie he realizes he could definitely hear them.

At first it was just a heavy breathing, which quickly gave way to a panting then the intermittent sound of addicting whimpers joined the hushed cacophony. The participants were obviously trying to keep it down and Marisol had yet to notice, but it was all Eddie could focus on. He'd had sex thousands of times, in multiple ways, but never anything as passionate sounding - even as muffled as it was.

Eddie shifts, trying not to let Marisol in on his discomfort.

A deep, pleasured moan comes from the back row, and Eddie can't help but look at Marisol to see if she heard it. Somehow she hadn't, but when Eddie looks at the screen he sees a sex scene and realizes she must have thought it belonged on the screen.

Thankfully Marisol doesn't notice and the movie is over within 30 minutes. Grateful, Eddie makes a speedy exit, practically dragging Marisol out the door. Unfortunately, she stops him in the hallway outside to point out a poster for an upcoming movie. Which means that Eddie witnesses the couple exiting the theater, hand in hand and with matching countenances of love and bliss.

Buck and Tommy.

Eddie only gets a moment to covetously observe them before Buck sees them. It does make him a little happy at how obviously happy the other man is at seeing him, but his desire to be there too trumps any joy Eddie feels.

“Eddie!” Buck exclaims, holding his hand up as if Eddie could miss him in a room full of people.

‘This must have been a little of what Buck felt when I crashed his first date with Tommy ,’ Eddie thinks but he says, “Hey guys! How goes it?”

“Great! We just saw one of my favorite books on screen!” Buck responds, the couples facing each other now so Eddie can see his pure smile easily. “It was an amazing adaptation!! What did you guys see?”

“I think we might have seen the same thing!” Marisol remarks. “Did you just come out of theater 6?”

As Buck confirms her, Eddie catches Tommy's eye. He's unable to keep it for long because the glint of them says Tommy knows Eddie knows they weren't really watching the movie.

A month has gone by, which means Bobby and Athena's dinner is tonight and that Tommy and Buck have been dating for two and a half months now. The indefinable feeling that haunts Eddie has gotten worse. Everytime he sees them together he feels his blood boil with it, when Eddie sees them separately it lays dormant. So far he's been good at keeping their visitations quarantined, but at a family dinner he would inevitably have to be around the both of them. Maybe he could use Chris as a buffer.

It's with this goal that he slowly gets them around, to the point that Chris essentially is rushing Eddie out the door. They arrive later than everyone and Chris quickly abandons him to go hang out with Denny, Harry and Mara. Eddie curses his son's extroverted personality as he makes himself go hang out with his best friend and good friend, who just so happens to be his best friend's boyfriend. Nothing to be weird about.

Why is he being so weird about it?

“What's up with you, man?” Tommy asks as he and Buck make their way over to him.

“Nothing much,” Eddie answers with a wave towards Chris as he continues, “Just been so busy lately I feel like I haven't had any free time.”

“I feel that,” Tommy says, wrapping a firm arm around Buck's waist. “Are we still on for Sunday? No pressure if you've got something else to do or just wanna use the day to relax instead.”

“Oh, y’know, it's just, I've got no one to watch Chris,” Eddie stammers out the excuse, knowing how flimsy it sounds as he says it. “You guys have fun!”

Buck shakes his head then says, “No, no! I don't really like basketball. Why don't you guys go together, I'll watch Chris! I've missed my Captain America time.”

And how can Eddie say no to that? So he doesn't, “Are you sure? I wouldn't want to make you feel… like you did before.”

“Yeah but that was before…” Buck blushes, looking down shyly where his hand rests on Tommy's wrist. “I didn't understand how I felt then, and now I do. I don't want to come between the two of you like that.”

“Of course you wouldn't,” Tommy comments lowly just for Buck, but Eddie hears it anyway.

Not understanding it and also knowing it wasn't intended for him, Eddie ignores it as he says, “Okay, awesome. Sounds like a plan! I'm looking forward to it.”

Luckily, Bobby chooses this moment to make his way over and their weekend-plans conversation ends. They chat for sometime about general things, before Athena makes her way over. Eventually they get on the topic of children and for once Eddie doesn't notice Buck with Tommy, as the couple slips away.

Actually, it isn't until they're sitting down for dinner does he notice their absence, because Chris asks Eddie, “Where is Bucky?”

Looking around, Eddie shrugs and says, “I don't know. How about this, you go save our seats and while I go to the bathroom I'll look for them.”

Words he'd come to regret as soon as that heavenly blessed, muffled moaning once again graced his ears. He should have known with his luck he'd catch them again . Should have somehow guessed what they'd be doing because he knows both of his friends.

What he doesn't expect himself to somehow know is how… distracting their noises are. Unlike the time in the theater, Eddie stalls to admire the sound and what he hears leaves him yearning for a cold shower.

“Tommy, please,” Buck whines, a sound so desperate and pleading. “Don't tease, we have to hurry.”

“Then maybe you should do so,” Tommy responds deeply, clearly just as aroused. “Come for me, Evan.”

The sound that Buck makes is one Eddie will never forget and also why he couldn't meet neither Buck nor Tommy's eye over dinner. After all, how do you make eye contact with your best friend when you know the frantic sound they make as they ejaculate? How can you look into your friend’s eyes when you want to hear their boyfriend orgasm?

And what if you just as desperately want to hear more.

Today they're at the wedding venue to help Maddie and Chim plan their wedding. “They” being Athena and Bobby, Karen and Hen, Buck and Tommy and Eddie. They were invited to help on choosing the cake and none of them were going to give up free sweets.

“I'm so glad May was okay watching all the kids today,” Karen comments to Maddie. “I can deal with my sugar rush, not theirs!”

This garners some laughs and the congenial mood follows them into the room where they'll be taste testing. The group is led through the Japanese-inspired sliding door to a beautiful room that utilizes and encaptures natural beauty. The table they sit at is elegant but clearly made from a large tree. Eddie is sat next to Buck and the end of the table, with Tommy on Buck's left, Athena is next to him and Bobby is at the head of the table at the fiancee's insistence. Karen is across from Eddie, Hen is next to her, then Chim and Maddie.

The first cake is a simple red velvet, which Eddie is immediately biased for until he takes a bite and realizes it tastes nothing like his abuela's. Trying to conceal his face because the others seem to like it, he wipes his mouth and takes a drink of his water. Karen catches his eye and without words he knows she's in the same boat.

“How's Christopher?” She asks after setting her own glass down and dabbing her lips softly so she doesn't mess up her chapstick.

“Oh you would not believe…” Eddie starts, telling her about Christopher’s foray into the dating world.

Karen laughs, “Well do you expect any difference with who his other father is?”

“Not at all,” Eddie says with his own laugh. “I just hoped he'd learn more from…” he turns to Buck, “What'd you call it?” He snaps his fingers, turning back to Karen to answer his own question and continue, “Point 2 version than Point 1.”

Buck's eyes are furrowed in confusion until he seemingly realizes they're talking about him because he considerably brightens as he chimes in, “Oh please! We've had the same amount of hook-ups since you joined - actually I think you've had more than me in the last 6 or 7 years!”

Eddie opens his mouth to start protesting but stops himself as he does the mental math. Shannon, Ana, being friends with benefits with Lena until she'd called it off, countless one night stands, and lately Marisol. Ali, Taylor, Natalia, 13 one night stands (Eddie knows how many because Buck has told him about every one) and now Tommy. Libido wise, they’re matched. Relationship wise, they’re on a similar path.

“Whatever,” Eddie mock-scoffs, the smile on his face a sure sign that he’s joking. “I’ve had more serious relationships.”

“Indisputably,” Buck mock-snarks, his smile just as mischievous. “You’re looking for a mom for Christopher, not a partner.”

Eddie gasps, bringing his hand to his chest in false offense, “How dare thee!”

“Why would he need to be looking? You’re both,” Hen jokes.

Tommy laughs, “You can’t even deny it, Evan. The only decorations you have are his art works. They’re framed and displayed in places of honor,” He looks at Karen and Hen as he says, “When he brought me over to his apartment for the first time, I swear he spent the first hour showing me around like he was some art curator showing off his favorite artist’s work.”

Everyone laughs, which is what the bakers walk out to with the next cake.

“I’m glad to see everyone’s having a good time,” A woman says, obviously the head chef or the baker’s version of that. “Are we ready to try the next?”

At everyone’s agreement, they clean up the table and pass around new plates with the new cake. Eddie would know what kind it was, if he had been able to listen to the baker instead of being completely enraptured by Buck and Tommy. The way they catch each other’s eye and share a secretive smile… It's alluring. The way their smiles sweeten, obviously in love and happy… Eddie wants to join them.

And Eddie realizes he knows exactly what that indefinable feeling plaguing him is.

It’s been obvious the whole time.

He drags his gaze away, looking straight ahead and meeting Karen’s eyes. They’re surprisingly sympathetic, like she’s experiencing something sad and wants nothing more than to fix it. Eddie can understand how she’s such a great mother, because he feels her love and he’s not even a child. Meeting her gaze is hard, but definitely easier than staring at the sweethearts.

“So Denny wants Chris to come over for a sleepover, I know we’re kind of busy now but since we’re both here we might as well chat about it,” Karen suggests as she tries the cake.

Eddie loves his family.

Grateful to her distraction his mind is taken off of the constant repetition of BuckTommyBuckTommyBuckTommy… or at the very least it’s an obnoxiously loud background noise.

“That’s perfect!” Eddie responds. “I can take them this next week if you could take them next sleepover.” Eddie subconsciously observes Tommy excusing himself and standing as he pulls out his phone to see his calendar. “Denny could come over this Friday. He could join in on our family night.”

“Yay!” Buck joins in to say after looking back from Tommy’s retreating form. “I’m excited! We’re going to have a Kung Fu Panda marathon so we can go watch the new one on Tuesday. Do you think Denny would like to come?”

“Definitely,” Karen says, all smiles. “Hen and I could use her day off to have a girl’s day with Mara. Denny went to my last salon and got embarrassed by all the grannies, he doesn’t want to go if they’re going to be there. They get… pinchy.”

Eddie laughs, “Oh my abuela and her book club are pinchy too. Every time they come around Chris he’s pretending he’s sick and wears his mask!”

“That’s smart!” Karen snaps her fingers. “I’ll have to tell Denny to use that one.”

“I’ll bet Chris already has,” Buck says. “Denny is just too sweet. Chris is more mischievous,” He rubs his head bashfully. “I swear that’s not from me.”

Everyone laughs. “Sure, Buck,” Hen says sassily, looking at him with a sisterly look. “Although, I will say he does get it from both of you.”

“Do what?” Maddie asks, leaning to face them better from the conversation she, Chim, Bobby and Athena had been having as it had come to an end.

“Chris got his player personality from both his dads,” Karen explains.

The entire table laughs.

“Oh goodness it is becoming apparent how alike our children are to us all,” Athena laughs waving her hands as she explains everything that had occured with Harry.

“I’m glad it’s all going to work out,” Buck says when she’s done.

Eddie nods, “Truly. Although, it all works out in the end, otherwise it’s not the end.” Everyone nods, adding on their own regards, but Eddie stops paying attention because it’s all taken by Buck discreetly excusing himself to the bathroom.

Which is a totally normal thing to do, but Eddie can’t stop focusing on the fact that Tommy isn’t back yet. The last time, he should have expected it and has been kicking himself for not realizing soon enough. Unable to give conversation, he crams his mouth with the rest of his cake and just nods along.

Ten minutes go by.

At this point he’s chewing mush, but he knows exactly what he’s going to do as soon as he’s done eating.

He swallows.

“Hey, I gotta go to the bathroom,” Eddie softly says as he stands up, pushing in his chair robotically. “I’ll be right back.”

The walk to the bathroom is thankfully short and the door is the same papery thin, sliding door that they had been led through before. Which means Eddie can hear them perfectly.

“You don’t think so?” Tommy is saying. “I know so, that's why I was feeling him out.”

“No way, he’s got all that Catholic guilt. Even if he could, he wouldn’t,” Buck replies.

“I’d beg to differ,” Tommy chuckles.

“Well I’m begging you to hurry,” Buck interrupts himself with a moan. “Please, oh my God, please .”

“Don’t beg God, keep begging me.”

There isn’t much talking after that. The time Eddie spends in that hallway feels innumerable. Able to easily listen, he makes sure to leave and be sat back in his spot well before they’re on their own way back.

Eddie finds that this time makes it no easier to meet the couple’s eyes.

The last time, Eddie had gone to Buck’s apartment after he and Marisol had gotten into an argument. In his defense, his spot had been open and only Buck’s Jeep had been in the apartment’s designated parking spaces. The walk up the parking garage stairs and to the elevator was daunting and the walk down the hallway to Buck's apartment was ominous, yet that was normal lately.

Maybe that's why he thinks nothing is off as he uses his key to unlock the apartment and goes in.

The sight that greets him is straight from a porno made by God for him.

Buck is bent over his counter, face twisted in a pert near illegal expression of pleasure, clearly overstimulated and loving it. Tommy is behind him, a similar countenance of ecstacy written across his face, dirty but adoring of the man beneath him. They are both facing the door, which means as soon as Eddie walks in and sights them that the opposite is true as well.

For a few seconds the momentum carries them through a few more thrusts and Eddie watches, captive to his own desire before he realizes this is real real life and not one of his repressed dreams.

“I'm sorry,” Eddie cries, trying to look away and failing as he backs up towards the door. “I'm going!”

“Eddie,” Buck says, voiced perfectly hoarse and fucked out. “Wait,” he straightens and Tommy backs up, pulling out evidently by the moans.

Eddie can't help but watch, but he also can't stay. Somehow he peels his gaze away, and runs from the apartment.

Upcoming Queue

(this is a rough draft outline. I wanted to cross-post what I have written so far because I can😎 I'd really like constructive feedback or someone to describe my writing. I'm also in need of a summary and I'm obviously no wordsmith)

(Blue are Posted, Red are Not Posted)

Chapter #1: Bi, Bi, Bi :: The set up OR As Eddie is setting up for a normal family night, Buck asks if Tommy can come and Eddie feels... Feelings about it.

Chapter #2: Bring in the Noise :: The set up pt2 OR An addition to family night doesn't disrupt it as worried.

Chapter #3: It Makes Me Ill :: Eddie has arrived in Jealousytown. All of the stations make him sick, especially when every stop be has to see Buck give love and attention at his will. And you can't imagine how it makes Eddie feel, to see them without him OR The 5 Times Eddie Catches BuckTommy.

Chapter #4: It's Gonna Be ME :: Eddie, Tommy and Buck get drunk at Chim’s bachelor party. Eddie makes a big confrontational speech to Tommy about how he thought they were friends and he can't believe he'd go behind his back type thing. Essentially telling Tommy there's been hundreds before him and Eddie's been there the whole time, it's gonna be him. Realizing he's made a fool of himself, Eddie runs off and avoids teven.

Chapter 5: No Strings Attached :: Eddie asking Chim, Hen and Bobby if he's homophobic, Chim says he's homo something (this is the plot bunny that started this fic)

Chapter 6: I Thought She Knew :: a proper break up with Marisol where he apologizes and she says she knows and there's no apology needed if he doesn't do it to another woman. They chat and he learns one of the big reasons she left is because she's bi too.

Chapter 7: Just Got Paid :: Eddie is still avoiding Buck and Tommy after Madney’s bachelor party and wedding but things are going more smoothly. Between more talks with Bobby and Hen he comes into his queer identity

Chapter 8: This I Promise You :: Confession

Chapter 9: Digital get down :: Domestic bliss 101

Chapter 10: That's When I'll Stop Loving You :: Found Family moment/telling the firefam

Chapter 11: Space Cowboy :: +1

Chapter 12: That's When I'll Stop Loving You :: Domestic bliss 202

#chickenwayng #bi buck #911 #911 abc #911 show #911 season 7 #911 spoilers #9 1 1 #9 1 1 abc #9 1 1 fanfiction #911 fanfiction #911 fic #911 fanfic #evan buckley #bisexual tommy kinard #bisexual eddie diaz #bisexual evan buckley #evan “buck” diaz-kinard #evan buck buckely #eddie diaz #tommy kinard #tommy x buck #tommy x eddie #eddie x tommy #buck x tommy #tommy x eddie x buck #tommy x buck x eddie #911 buddie #buddie #5 + 1 fic

[incarnateirony]

awww pat trying so hard to lie and say jensen didn't say Watching Over Me was about Cas. Poor little broken hearted wincel trying to pretend it's "the opposite" of what he said.

No, here is specifically what was said:

"Are you ever going to write another song about Cas?"

Jensen: [looks down and smiles]

Another fan: "What song?"

Another nother fan: "Watching Over Me."

Jensen: [smiling]

Question asker: "Did you just confirm you wrote that about Cas?"

"Well, yes and no. I didn't set out to write it about Cas. However, after listening to it 4-5 times, I realized I did it subconsciously."

Bro, he wrote it on set, they've all said it, 4-5 times is even during recording and he still released it knowing it, please fucking cope and accept that jensen has heller brainrot too.

i know you love manipulating information and denying reality but miamigal and her "mafia" didn't come out shitting her pants and threatening physical violence for no reason.

What 2p0 is furious about is that this outs his unreliable M&G reporting, AND has the corroboration of the following public shitshow miami made. Where people even heard them ranting about what the fuck happened in the room. Because you guys can't abide by NDAs for five fucking minutes.

Yeah, Pat. Grain of salt. You've lied and omitted almost every M&G ever and now are telling people "PEOPLE CAN LIE DURING M&Gs". Yeah, dude. We fucking caught you.

If you wanna say we mixed up which bitch is miami and which bitch was the drunk rambler that's fine, we can get them both banned if you want to clarify. and 2p0 can cry to his followers about the mean mean hellers when CE responds to the various receipts they were provided, that 2p0 will also pretend is fake.

#there's a message for all of you in the war room

[zeb-z]

The Tipping Point is an apt name for this episode. Crosshair has reached his with the Empire, and has done a full 180 to risk everything to warn his siblings. Hunter has reached his with Cid, having had enough of her bullshit. Echo being asked what his point will be, when enough will be enough, fighting against a force that he cannot defeat.

The episode itself has taken a turn in the severity of darkness, if that makes sense. We see more of the interrogator droid than we do Crosshair, but the torture is still on screen. We hear the needle, we hear his cries, we watch the scientist and clones do nothing but restrain him, promising to find his breaking point. There’s another depiction of an Imperial electro-cyanide pill suicide. Clones are blatantly called property of the Empire. The creeping horror of the top secret science operations, the clones going missing, the doctor who was dismissed from the Republic because his experimentation and methodology were too extreme, too horrific.

And then alluding to what’s next. Echo being asked when will it become too much, what point will he go home and stop fighting impossible odds, and his response is likely going to be never. Then Crosshair having no choice but to face too much. Torture until he breaks, or he dies. Both fighting against impossible odds, the terrifying and seemingly all powerful might of the Empire.

It’s showing boundary lines, and the crossing of them. It’s showing the way the Empire brazenly takes the point of no return as a first step into cruelty and disregard for life. How that becomes the point at which more and more are fighting back.

With Echo, it shows that determination pushes past tipping points - but with Crosshair, it asks: at what point past that is the breaking point?

#like it’s been grim dark yeah. but it’s like realizations are being made about it now yknow? #speaking of tipping into darkness. was anyone else absolutely fucking terrified when crosshair looked at the gun on the console when gas #flooded the room. i thought he was gonna end it all right fucking then and there jesus fucking Christ #also! showing how tbb trust in crosshair has long been past its tipping point. they don’t fully trust his message to not be a trap #anyways. catch you all next week ✌️ if echo dies I’m deleting my account <3 #sorry if this is like two half’s of separate points my brains operating on the electricity that sparks when two cells collide by accident #tbb #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch #sw #Star Wars #crosshair #echo #tbb crosshair #tbb echo #z speaks

[moenmomentsthemoe-en]

thsi is how i feel right now WHAT /POS

#went from experiencing the horrors of seeing people bleeding out and body horror to having a dopamine high that i never knew was possible #i feel like the guy that the fandom takes out of the horror genre theyre from to put into a domestic cafe au fanfic #FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT. IM SO HAPPY HELLO #all my friends are so nice to me i cried over j's message over em's message over martin's post shares and gama and over cherry's compliment #and vic's message and sneeb and ghost and FALL'S SURPRISE GIFT AUHGHG #and and judas and crystal and chair and des and and starts sobbing #YOU GUYS ARE ALL SO NICE AND COOL AND IM SO SORRY IM SUCH A MESS 24/7 #so many things right now are going to shit like this website and country stuff and the fucking WAR and people i know suffering from deaths #and so so so many things are falling apart but fuck people are being nice to me now i love you guys #GAH SORRY FOR STRUGGLING ONLINE IM GOING TO GO OFFLINE AND SCREAM ABOUT FALL'S GIFT IM . PACING AROUND THE ROOM

[radiance1]

This au again lawl. Where Danny wears these special sunglasses to hide his eyes that also track down ghosts in his human form.

The Justice League tracks down a summoning for the ghost king, an eons old tyrant of the infinite realms and known to bring war and devastation whenever he is summoned.

The cultists do manage to summon the ghost king, except, not how they wanted. They did indeed summon the king, but Pariah Dark is still trapped in eternal sleep and somehow, just, somehow, they managed to draw the lottery and dragged the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep to the summoning circle.

So there the Justice League were, wondering what to do with the (currently) locked away and sleeping ghost king.

Until Constantine's coat flipped itself open and a boy with glowing white hair and a mist of blue blowing from his mouth.

"Old man." The boy greeted.

"Brat." Constantine said.

"Do you mind explaining why and how this," The boy gestured to the Sarcophagus. "Is here and not in Pariah's Keep?"

"Funny story, that one." Constantine said, only half-jokingly. He then went on to explain that the Justice League came to track down cultists, said cultists somehow managed to drag that here, and now they didn't quite know what to do with it.

The boy stood still for a moment, before taking off his sunglasses to pinch the bridge of his nose and sighed, a large amount of blue flame spilling from his mouth. "Ancients above, why is it every time something notable happens, it's always you?"

Constantine snorted, reaching into his coat for a pack of cigarettes and lighting himself one. "Hypocritical coming from you."

"I know, but still." The boy walked over to the Sarcophagus and sat on it, as if it wasn't the thing currently holding one of the most powerful ghosts in the infinite realms. "You know smoking is bad for you, right?"

"What, you learned that in class?" Constantine snarked, making no move to do anything and causing the boy to sigh again, toxic green eyes looked around the room, falling over each hero present before homing in on Flash. The boy pointed to him. "You. Come here."

"Whatcha want with red?" Constantine asked and the boy simply shrugged his shoulders. "Passing on a message."

The boy blinked once, and if he was surprised that the Flash was already in front of him, then he didn't show it. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a green sticky not, motioned for Flash to bent down and stuck it on his forehead.

Superman was... concerned. There was a heartbeat there, he could hear it, but it was so slow and seemed rather weak, like the boy was near death.

"Alright, now I gotta get old mean and green back to his keep before the Observants get on my case." The boy put back on his sunglasses and got up, waving Flash away and lifting up the Sarcophagus above his head he walked over to Constantine, whose face wrinkled.

"That ain't going to fit." The warlock pointed out and the boy scoffed, probably rolling his eyes behind his glasses. "And you've fit bigger things, just shut up and lift the coat old man."

Constantine did so, and somehow the boy just shoved the entire Sarcophagus inside. The boy was very obviously smug as the blue mist that was blowing from his mouth the entire time petered out. "I'll clean up the mess on my end," The boy said before waving his hand in the Justice League's general direction. "You deal with all that."

"Just get going already, I'm not about to get those sentient eyeballs on my ass."

"Yea, yea. You got enough to deal with as is." The boy then stepped inside Constantine's cloak and as soon as the man let it drop, he disappeared.

Constantine looked around the room, silently assessing the situation as he brought another cigarette to his lips.

He lamented the fact he would have to deal with this sober.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Just so ya know #Danny ain't ghost king or prince #Just normal halfa here #Haha #Where does Constantine's cloak lead? #We may never know. #Just know that Danny can come out and go into it #Because I thought it was funny

[luvwestwood]

"AFK" - Choso Kamo (with twt links)

"..like fortnite, i’ma need your skin.."

3,012 words.

warnings. nsfw(18+), bf/gamer! choso, oral sex (m rec.), humiliation, desk sex, exhibitionism, trying not to get caught, feral choso, p in v, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, degradation, choso whimper links included lol,

notes. my previous drabble abt choso had a lil kick to it, definitely had to make it into a full one-shot! hope u guys enjoy, and thank u for 450 followers hehe, so I included twt links! ^^

credits to @/plutism for dividers, @/adrienwithane for banner.

russian translation by @juliabelll ❤️

Not too long ago, it was Choso's birthday. Being an amazing girlfriend you are, of course you built him a brand new PC. It cost you an arm and a leg, but that didn't matter at all when it came to Choso. Seeing him happy itched a part of your brain, especially when he was the one who would pay for everything: dates, your online shopping carts, you name it.

He never really bought anything for himself. You were getting tired of the countless times that he went on a tangent about how slow his previous machine was. It was doing your head in, so you saved up. For what you now call a 'not-blessing-in-disguise'.

Choso was obsessed with his new PC, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. Part of you was starting to regret it all. The man barely paid attention to you.

Am I the asshole for being mad that my boyfriend likes his gift a bit too much? No, I wouldn't think so. I should be delighted, but it's pretty much getting outrageous.

The fact that he has almost every single game out there on that PC in just a span of one week since he got it - means there's more for him to do. Every day, he'd wake up, do a bit of house stuff then sit his ass down to play with his friends. For as long as he can. Never leaving that room. Hell, he wouldn't even bother answering your messages until an hour later. 'Mb, was on the game' is something that was engraved in your brain by now.

Every time you'd come over, he'd ignore you simply by just gluing his eyes on the screen. If you try to nap, just go home. You've lost track of how many times he's managed to wake you up with his blood-curdling screams. There were times when Choso didn't even notice you leaving, which upset you quite a bit.

Of course, you had moments when you needed him the most. Like, badly. Freshly shaved, he's not even mentally there to take a peek. You could be naked and oiled up in his bed, Choso wouldn't even bat an eye.

…Advice to self, don't get him a PS5 this Christmas.

"Choso," You called out, sat on the edge of the bed behind him. No answer. Per usual, you wanted to rip that headset off his head.

Dark circles were forming around his eyes, endless cans of monster were scattered all over his desk. "Nah let's just fight Oscar, we've got a minute until the circle closes."

Rolling your eyes, a scoff escapes your mouth. Aaand he didn't hear you. Crossing your arms, you furrow your brows. He was honestly testing your patience. "Choso?!"

Choso flinches a bit, pulling one side of his headset away from his ear. His gaming chair spins around to face you. "Baby?"

He knew you were mad. You looked more than pissed. It was really because this recurring behavior of his was getting too much. "Your eyes are always on that screen! Did you even know that I was here!?”

“I-I’m sorry. Look, I'll get off after this game!” From his headset you could hear Choso’s friends teasing and picking on him. They probably heard you scolding your poor boyfriend. You couldn’t care less.

As soon as you were about to speak, he immediately spun his chair back around to face that stupid monitor again. He was too engrossed in the game. It was his squad of four against the only opposing team.

Groaning, you flop back onto his mattress. "..You always say that, and you never do." Muttering under your breath, you stare at the ceiling blankly. What felt like a hammer to your head, Choso's war cries could only get louder each second.

The past few days, you had no choice but to use your own fingers to toy with yourself. You were needy, and you missed your boyfriend's touch. Too bad he was too occupied. How come his keyboard and mouse get to be touched by him more than your....

Using all of your strength, you sat yourself up again on the edge of his mattress. Realizing there's no use in scolding him, you quietly walked up behind Choso, combing your fingers through his hair. You loved when it was down, and he loved it when you played with his hair. He found it relaxing. You could tell by the way his body was no longer tensed up, the back of his head falling heavy onto your hand.

Your hands left his hair, travelling down to his nape. With your freshly manicured nails (which he paid for), you gently scratched his skin on his neck. You could see goosebumps forming, but said nothing about it. Choso who was ticklish, tilted his head to the side - "Mmm," He hummed, telling you off as you were starting to distract him.

Letting out a laboured sigh, you stared at the back of his head. Wondering what to do with him, you pouted. Maybe I should just leave like every other day? No, I can't back down.

He seems really busy. Would he even notice if I crawled under his desk? Grinning, you got on your knees, crawling like a kitty underneath his desk but making minimal noise. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his reaction, but his eyes were still gawking at the flashing screen in front of him.

Coming face to face with his sweats, you kneeled, just in level with his lap. Peeking your head out from the shadows under his desk, Choso had only noticed you then. His eyes widened, the sight of you looking up at him like a puppy had started to cloud up his thoughts.

Grabbing onto his wrist, he slowly let go of his mouse. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he took it in the palm of his hand, eventually giving in and using his thumb to softly caress your lips. "..I missed you, Choso.." You whispered, softly sucking on his thumb. "..I need you,"

His breath hitched, your words were doing something to him. What a fool he was for ignoring you all this time? Just then, a cacophony of voices screaming through his headset broke him out of his trance. Choso's warm hand left your face, causing you to frown. Your fun was cut short. Way too short.

You had enough, deciding it was time you finally got what you wanted. Snaking your two hands up the soft cotton of his sweats, they stopped right at his crotch. His eyes anxiously shot down to you underneath him, telling you off and pointing to his headset.

Placing a finger onto your lips, you told him to just be quiet. His eyes frantically flickered from you, then to his monitor. Slowly, you slid down his pants. Smiling at the way he rose himself up from his seat slightly, so it would be easier to take them off. Of course, he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Taking his long, thick cock into your hands, you jerked it ever so slightly. Choso cleared his throat, keeping his mouth shut all of a sudden in case he accidentally makes unwanted noise. He was practically melting under your touch, into the chair. Gliding your tongue over his pink tip, he didn't dare look at you. Not long after, your warm mouth wrapped over him, Choso letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.

You knew how to push his buttons, bringing yourself to fully deepthroat his cock for a few seconds. His lips purse shut, Choso slightly biting down onto his bottom lip. His fingers started to press on the wrong keys, unable to focus on the game.

Pulling away, a string of saliva connected your tongue and his aching tip. You brought your lips back onto his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you used your two hands to jerk him off at the same time.

The man above was folding at the pornographic sight underneath him. Hearing Choso moan by accident, he quickly covered it up with a cough. “…Yeah, no, I’m good- Just don’t- feel well..”Friends concerned, Choso had come up with a convincing lie in just seconds. His hand reached down to rake through your hair until his fist was full of it. [link]

He lightly pushed your head up and down his length, your mouth making sloppy noises all over, buckets of spit dripping down your chin and his balls.

Ripping his headset off, Choso didn't care about the game anymore. Or his friends. He groaned as you fondled with his balls, giving them a suck afterwards. His light grey pants were turning a darker shade than before. His two hands clawed into your hair on both sides of your face, Choso started to fuck his cock into the back your throat.

Moaning, his eyes shut tightly as his head fell back onto the cushion of his chair. His balls tightening as he heard how you constantly gagged over his thick cock. "Fuck.. Just like that.."

His moans were a mixture of curses and long groans, tears started to well up in your eyes. Choso opened his eyes again, looking down at you as he drew your mouth away from his cock. He smiled, seeing your makeup all ruined, your face covered with spit and so did his lap.

Rolling his chair away from the desk, he grabbed you from underneath. Only to pull it back again, placing it in front of his PC. Guiding his hand on your back, he bent you over on the chair, making your two legs kneel on the soft cushion so you wouldn't tire out. [link]

Holding tightly onto your hair, your head fell back towards him. Choso had ripped the fabric of your leggings that was unfortunately covering your cunt. Grabbing his cock, he lined himself up with your hole, his hands shaking from how eager he was.

Easily sliding in from the slick that covered your hole, you grabbed onto the arm rest in front of you; Choso stretching you out completely. Wasting no time, he began to move his hips back and forth, fucking his hard cock into you.

His monitor started to gently shake from how hard his cock was bullying into you, skin slapping as his balls that were full of weeks load cum made contact with your clit.

"C-Choso.." You cried out, your hand reaching back to his pelvis. Staring at yourself getting fucked like a slut through the reflection of his PC monitor, your ass rippled with each and every one of his thrusts.

Maintaining his brutal pace, his fingers were no longer woven into your hair, reaching out to the headset on his desk. Confused, you kept your eyes open to watch Choso place them over your head. "W-What..?"

His hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips, Choso leaned into your ear. "Keep moaning you slut, let them hear you." All of a sudden he groaned, feeling you clench around him at what he just said. "You like that, don't you?"

Spinning you slightly to one side, his leg went up onto the chair with you, allowing him more leverage to fuck you deeper. "Eyes up at that camera too, show them how pretty you look taking my cock," Tears started to stream down the sides of your cheeks, your face had flushed red.

Choso's hands took a hold of your hair again, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. "I.." Speechless, you lost your ability to form a basic sentence. His fat cock left you braindead, at this point you were seeing nothing but stars.

"..Use your words baby," A creamy white ring started to form at his base as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Choso's hand kept stamping down on your back from time to time to make sure you kept that arch. "..Isn't this what you've been wanting all week?"

"Y-you're so deep.. I can't.." Your hand reached back to his abs, twisting the white fabric of his tank top until it was all wrinkly. He took a hold of your wrist, twisting your arm behind you. Choso slightly bent over, his warm body resting against your back.

He quietly groaned into your ear, chanting your name like a prayer. You were fucked out of your mind. "You feel so good.. like this pussy was made for me." The pace of his thrusts slowed down, but his hips still rut into you hard each time. His strokes hard and deep, you swear could feel him all up in your guts. Your jaw had dropped, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

Choso's hands reached under your loose shirt, letting your tits spill out of your bra. Gently twisting your nipple between his finger tips, fondling with your whole breast afterwards, he forgot how much he loved wrapping his mouth around those.

"Your cock.. It feels so good.." You babbled, Choso sneaking his fingers underneath to rub lazy circles on your clit. Your legs began to tremble, fortunately your throat managed to choke out a whine.

Also seeing him in the reflection of his monitor, strands of his hair started to stick to his face. Multiple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Choso didn't want to leave your pussy. Not even Thor could pull him out. He enjoyed using you like a cock whore.

You felt so dizzy, mind full of his cock. Choso let out multiple whimpers as he felt his orgasm nearing, his index finger hooking onto the side of your mouth. The very last few seconds, his cock bottomed into you, trying to chase your orgasm. The desk hitting against he wall non-stop, his headset that was on you started to fall off your head.

Leaving a trail of wet kisses down your back, his hand grabbed onto the plush flesh of your ass, continuously giving it a spank every now and then.

The wet, slapping noises of your skin continued to follow, until you felt his thrusts come to a sudden halt. His hot cum shooting inside of you rope after rope, just before he pulled out to let the rest out onto your ass. "..Fuck.. look at that."

Using his thumb to spread your hole wide open, his load spilt onto the black leather of his gaming chair. You panted, tired and hole throbbing. You got what you wanted, that’s for sure. Forcing his headset off you, you couldn't do anything but lean against his desk, trying to regulate your breathing pattern back to normal.

"..We're not done here," Choso laughed behind you, your cunt still dripping of his thick load. His hands roughly turned your body around, placing you on top the desk to face him. Using his foot to push the chair away, he lined his cock with your hole again, using his cum that was already inside of you as lube.

"Oh m-my- Choso!" You yelped, one hand taking grip onto his shoulder for support, the other holding knocking his keyboard out of the way, trying to find something to hold onto other than his shoulder.

His forehead rested against yours, the staggering movement of his hips causing the desk itself to shake under the two of you. Choso watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your hole, grunts coming out through his clench teeth as he wrapped his large hands around your thighs. He wanted more, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"..Good girl," He gritted through his teeth, "..I love t-this pussy, and you." Choso's hands pressed flat against the desk, his lips locking onto yours. His cock was coated in a mixture of his and your own cum, your sweaty bodies intimately hugging against each other.

Choso wanted to feel all you, he just craved more and more each minute. His hands shakily held onto the sides of your waist, his lips moving to your jaw to plant more kisses.

"You're so beautiful, look at me baby." Choso lightly tapped the side of your face, telling you to maintain eye contact.

Obeying, you kept your eyes open; looking into his but not a thought behind your own eyes. You only continued to whine under his touch, overstimulated from how much he's used you like a cock whore. You were so close to losing your mind, drunk off his cock.

Choso too, was lost in your pussy. God, was he whipped— If only he could stay inside you forever, he definitely would. This whole time he was busy cursing at himself, how much of an idiot he is to not appreciate what he has - you. Your cheeks were stained with your hot tears, Choso hushing you and wiping them away every now and then.

“S-Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, feeling his balls tighten for the second time, the tightness of your pussy heightening his stimulation.

Your hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. His thrusts turning sloppy, you cooed. “..Cum for me, I want it all inside..”

This caused the coil inside of Choso to snap, him desperately whimpering into your ear as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “F-fu-ck..” Tightly holding onto the flesh of your hips, he made sure his second load stayed inside of you.

Sliding his cock out, Choso rested his heavy cock just above your pussy. Making sure he planted a peck on your forehead, trying to catch his breath. The two of you laugh, your bodies aching and sweaty, his entire desk and chair a mess.

Reaching for something, you blinked as Choso grabbed his headset that ended up on the other side of the desk. Placing one side against his ear, he spoke into the mic. "..GG."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me 🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso smut #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #choso x you #jjk drabbles #jjk smut

[gojorgeous]

"business or pleasure?"

pairing: gojo x fem!reader summary: the gojo clan decides it’s time to secure an heir… and you’re the lucky woman selected for the job… content: HEAVY breeding, arranged marriage, language, praise, dacryphilia, p->v, fingering, mating press, a lil’ blood (if you squint), pet names, implied multiple rounds, gojo just generally being a menace, no established relationship, reader and gojo literally just met, reader is literally there for the purpose of getting pregnant, positive pregnancy test at the end, ideas of women as baby incubators :x, consent king gojo. wc: 3.7k a/n: I HAVE RETURNED!!! Hey!!!!!! Long time no see, babes. I was looking at my account and I haven’t posted a fic in *cough* TWO YEARS. There is simply no way that’s real 😭 Anyway, I’ve returned with something slightly different: A Gojo fic. You’re welcome. Mwah. Also, please send messages I miss y'all. happy new year bbs. and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!

It’s only your third time in Japan. The first had been to visit family friends when you were eight, the second for a girls’ trip after you graduated college. You liked it. Tokyo was bright and busy and full of shops and things to do. The countryside always offered beauty and peace. But this third time was different. No shopping, no temples, no amusement parks. You were here for business, not pleasure. 

You run a finger along the edge of a mahogany bookshelf. Your feet are killing you, a flick of your ankles tossing your heels across the room. Your nose wrinkles when you land on a particular title. The Art of War? Interesting choice… You scan the other books, and your brows rise when you find a strange combination of academics, young adult, manga, and high fantasy? A multi-genre reader, then…

You absentmindedly rub at the arch of your foot, pushing out the ache as best you can. A day so full of stress has left you weary. Your mother hadn’t stopped hovering until the moment you’d escaped into your car, a new husband on your arm. 

You sigh. You could still hear the shower running along with said husband humming loudly to a tune you didn’t recognize. At least your groom wasn’t shy. 

A glance toward the bed has your brows raising. Were those… squishmallows? One looked like a shark, the other like a… sushi? You press your lips together, avoiding a laugh he would surely hear. You make your way to the mattress, sighing when you finally get to sit. You pull the sushi into your arms, hugging the pillow to your chest, but it no longer seemed so funny anymore. You had bigger things to think about. Your legs press together in a mix of anticipation and anxiety. All the way from America you’d come to marry the Gojo heir. It had been a rushed arrangement. Apparently, the Gojo clan had finally put their foot down and decided their heir should finally get to the business of making another heir. There’d been a search far and wide for the best match and somehow, they’d settled on you. An accomplished sorcerer yourself and abilities in your blood that only strengthened those of the Gojo line, you’d been an suitable pick. It didn’t hurt that you were young, healthy, and (upon a trip to a renowned fertility clinic) proven to be very fertile. 

Your parents had been oh-so eager to accept the Gojo clan’s proposition. The Gojo heir’s power hadn’t been matched in nearly 400 years. Any and every family would jump at the opportunity to be tied to them, especially through marriage and heirs. You were surprised you’d been chosen considering all of the options there must have been. 

Satoru seemed… fine, you thought. You hadn’t had much time to talk with him privately. The first time you’d met had been on a phone call with both of your sets of parents present and the next had been at the altar. At one point in the night he’d asked a waiter to refill your wine glass and he’d been a rather good dancer. Other than that, you’d been pulled apart at all odds and ends until you’d come back here: his apartment. 

You’d expected something a little more lavish for your wedding night, especially considering the spectacle that your wedding had been. Ice sculptures, thousand dollar bouquets, and diamond encrusted wedding rings had turned to an elegantly decorated bachelor pad. A glance around revealed a space that was obviously lived in, with odd mixes of $10,000 dollar chairs and… squishmallows.

You sink onto the edge of the bed, eyes peeling over the half-moons of your nails and the heavy gems that now sit on the fourth finger of your left hand. They are a weight you feel the pressure of. A pressure to live up to expectations, to produce a much-desired product. 

A door opens down the hall and you realize the pounding of water and the lilting of a hum has ceased. Your husband is done with his shower. 

A few seconds later he reveals himself, prancing down the hallway and into his bedroom like it’s just another Tuesday and not his wedding night. A plush blue towel is slung low around his waist and from the rivulets of water running all over his body you judge that he hadn’t even taken the time to properly dry off. Not that you mind.

You’d known your new husband was beautiful but you’d never imagined he’d be so… so goddamn seductive. 

Washboard abs, toned arms, sculpted back, wet hair and icy eyes… he was the image of a god. 

“Sorry for making you wait. I really needed that.” 

Gojo prods at his temples, eyes squished shut in what looked like a moment of pain. You’d heard of this problem from the clan. He hadn’t worn his blindfold all day for the sake of the wedding. It was no wonder the effects were catching up with him. 

“No problem.” 

A small smile reveals just a few blinding teeth and you could swear your vision went out for just a moment. 

“You hungry?” 

You arch a brow. The man had eaten two full plates and practically half the cake not yet an hour ago. 

“Can’t say that I am.” 

“Hm.” 

He nods and you watch as he plucks a stray candy off his bedside table, tossing the wrapper to the floor. 

“So, uh-” You watch the butterscotch bulge in his cheek. “You really wanna do this?” 

You glance at your half-naked husband who is practically a walking temptation. You take a breath. He’s standing so casually, as if this is a normal conversation to be having and not something life-altering.

“You don’t?” you ask.

All that gets you is a shit-eating grin. 

“Never said that.” 

You can’t help the smirk that crawls across your lips. 

“Well, we might as well get it over with, no?” 

Another flash of pearly whites. 

“Get it over with, hm?” 

You miss his meaning, pulling at a loose thread on the bedspread. 

“It shouldn’t take much effort. I’m on so many fertility meds you could probably spit on me and I’d get pregnant.” 

You pick at the thread a little more, biting your lip when you realize it’s one of those strands that’s infinite. 

“That so?” 

You jolt when a speck of wetness lands on your cheek. A quick glance reveals a fuzzy blue towel far too close for comfort. A half-naked Gojo is a whole lot closer than he’d been just seconds ago. How is he so quiet? 

Blue eyes bore into yours, water dripping down white strands and onto your skin. He’s so damn tall. He has your neck craned all the way back just to meet his gaze. 

“Yes.” You swallow. “It was part of our prenup.”

Dazed. You’re absolutely dazed. 

“Well, we probably shouldn’t risk breaking a legally binding contract, hm?” 

Closer. He’s coming closer. Too close. 

You lean back, scooting yourself up the bed in a feeble attempt to get a little more space, your emotional support sushi tumbling to the floor. He follows right after you. 

Something primal thrusts through your veins at the sight of a man, sopping wet and smirking, crawling after you, some mix of teasing and pure drive hidden in his eyes. Gojo doesn’t stop, not until you’re nearly pressed against the headboard and his arms cage your waist. Close. Too close. 

You’d thought he would have dried a bit by now, but water still slicks off his skin and hair, showering you lightly. You shiver and your husband notices. His tongue darts out to lick his lips and you get a breath of the sweetness of butterscotch and mint toothpaste. 

“You say stop,” he breathes, “and we stop.”

He leans closer, so close you can smell the eucalyptus and myrrh of his shampoo, the musk of his body wash, the candied sweetness of his breath. Those piercing blue eyes flit to your lips and back up again. 

A breath, a pause. 

“Stop?” he asks. His eyes are piercing.

You shake your head. 

“Go.” 

Lips, teeth, tongue. All of it hits you at once. For a moment you’re too shocked to respond, but then his weight is leaning on you and his hand is on your waist and his mouth tastes like candy and- and then you’re kissing him back. 

A heavy hand digs into the flesh of your waist and your hands find a patch of damp white hair to tangle in. 

He tastes good- too good and when a deft hand guides you down to the mattress you start to think that this whole baby-making business might not be so bad after all. 

Teeth knock, tongues touch, and you are on the edge of what would have been a particularly throaty moan when he pulls away. 

His attention shifts elsewhere, kisses trailing down your neck and hands straying to your hips.

“Have you-” a kiss to your collarbone. “Done this before?”

You freeze.

“What?” 

Gojo raises his head a bit and the most irritating kind of smirk plays on his lips. 

“Don’t know- thought maybe this was a virgin for your super rich husband kinda thing?” 

You shove his head back down.

“Shut up.”

He chuckles and the sound vibrates against your skin. 

“Okay, sp no need to go slow then…” 

His lips continue their assault, brushing and grazing over your skin until it lifts with goosebumps. Your breaths come a little faster, a little heavier and you gasp when his hand curls beneath the hem of your skirt.

“Oh? What’s this?” His fingers brush against the garter that rests at the top of your thighs. Your cheeks heat. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why had you agreed to wear the damn thing? You reach down, hoping to quickly rid yourself of the scrap of fabric before you can become oven more mortified. You’re just about to clamp down on it when Gojo catches your wrist. “Ah, ah. No need to be so hasty.” Your hand is easily pinned down to the mattress and, for some reason, you don’t fight it. 

Your breath catches when your skirt lifts only for Gojo to dive beneath it without a second thought. You feel his teeth grazing across the skin of your thigh. 

“Gojo-” you breathe, squirming. 

His head reappears suddenly, another one of those mischievous grins gracing his lips. “Satoru when I’m about to be inside you, baby.” 

He disappears again and you gasp and wiggle when you feel his tongue laving across the inside of your thigh. 

His teeth graze you again, but this time they clamp down on the garter and you feel it slowly sliding across your skin, down, down, past your knee and eventually to your ankle where Satoru finally yanks it past your foot with a final tug. 

You stare at him, wide eyed and lustful. That had to have been one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. 

Satoru plucks the garter from his teeth and dangles it in front of his eyes. It’s a white, lacy little thing that matches the shade of his hair. He’s grinning again when he slides it onto his wrist like a bracelet– no, like a trophy.

“Thanks for the present.” He’s still grinning, still staring, his fingers still fiddling with the hem of your skirt. “How attached are you to this dress?” he asks. 

You blink, swallowing nervously, unable to break away from his gaze. It’s too strong, too mesmerizing. “Not… attached at all,” you manage. It’s true. Somebody else picked it out, and you’ve only been wearing it for about an hour– and it’s not like you can’t just buy a new one now with access to the Gojo bank accounts. 

His grin somehow grows even wider. “Good girl. Just what I wanted to hear.” 

There’s a splitting sound and suddenly your dress is tearing straight down the middle. It’s slow and controlled and you wonder if he’s practiced at this or if his strength is just that regulated. You find yourself hoping it’s the latter. 

The dress is ripped from your skin and you see it land somewhere across the room. You hear something shatter along with a thud, but Satoru seems anything but worried, so you ignore it. 

You’re bare in just your undergarments, a lacy white set that you’re now half proud of and half embarrassed by. 

Satoru whistles and his hands settle on your waist. “Damn, baby. Why’d you keep all this hidden for so long?” 

You scoff, your confidence surging. You reach for him, grabbing a scruff of hair at the back of his neck and pulling him close. “You’re the one taking your sweet time, Toru.” 

The sound of the nickname on your lips makes him shiver and you smirk triumphantly.

“Hmm…” is all he says as his fingers trail lower, lower, lower, until they’re dipping beneath the band of your panties. It’s somewhere between tortuous and ticklish and you squirm. “Ah, ah. Hold still for me, now.” He presses one hand to the valley between your breasts, holding you down as his other hand continues lower. When his thumb finds the wet spot on your panties and presses down your back arches and your breath escapes. 

He chuckles. “Little needy, aren’t you?” His thumb moves a little higher, grazing your clit, and you whimper. 

With one deft movement he unclasps your bra, tossing it aside. You register for just a moment that your chest is now completely bare, but soon enough his mouth is closing around your nipple and all else is forgotten. 

“S-Satoru!” you whisper. Your voice feels hoarse, even if it has no reason to be. 

His thumb continues its assault between your thighs. “So wet already, baby…” He sounds ecstatic. The grin on his lips makes you whine. “Let’s get these out of the way…” Before you know it, you hear more tearing and then cold air hits your cunt. You cry out when Satoru’s thumb returns to its ministrations, but this time there’s no cloth barrier to dull the sensation. Your hands push out and your nails curl into his bare shoulders. You need him closer.

“Satoru…” you breathe. “Kiss me…” 

That shit-eating grin returns, but he follows your command. “As my wife wishes.” 

When lips meet yours it’s hot and messy. Your nails claw down his back and you’re sure you’re leaving marks. If he minds, he certainly doesn’t show it.

His thumb continues at your clit as a finger prods at your entrance. When he slides in slowly, you gasp. He murmurs something about you being so sensitive, and proceeds to quickly find that gummy spot inside you that makes you see stars. Before you know it he’s adding a second finger and soon your hips are rocking against his thrusts, meeting his pace as you chase your high. 

“God, you’re so wet.” he whispers against your lips. True to his word, he’s been kissing you, never letting up in his attack on your mouth. “Bet you taste like fucking heaven.”

You whine, your hips stuttering against his hand. “G-Gonna… I’m–” 

He grins again, and pulls away just enough to meet your gaze. “Go ahead, baby. Cum for me.” Your eyes flutter shut, your head rolling back– “Nuh, uh. Keep those eyes open. Wanna see every second.” 

Your breaths flutter and you whimper loudly, the sound bouncing on the walls. You’re not sure why you listen, why you fight to keep your eyes open, locked on him, but you do. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll pull away and leave you wanting… or maybe you just want to please him.

You feel your muscles clenching in your stomach, hear the sloppy sounds of Satoru’s fingers thrusting in and out of you, see the gleeful anticipation in his eyes. His thumb rubs a particularly delicious circle around your clit and you feel yourself thrown over the edge. 

You can’t help but be loud. You hold his gaze the whole time, whimpering and whining his name as you gush all over his sheets. Your cunt spasms around his fingers, clenching, holding him inside, desperate to be filled. You hear him panting above you, like watching has somehow taken his breath away. 

“Good girl,” he whispers and you feel a second wave of pleasure ripple through you. 

You feel weak by the time your orgasm leaves you. Your muscles are limp and your cunt is so sensitive that you flinch when Satoru removes his fingers. He brushes a tear from the corner of your eye and you watch as he brings his sopping fingers to his mouth, sucking your juices clean. He moans, a deep throaty sound, like it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. You watch his eyes roll back in his skull, watch his throat bob as he swallows. Your lips part at the sight. 

His fingers fall from his mouth with a pop and his grin returns.

“Just like I thought,” he says. “Heaven.” 

He’s back on you in a second, licking a stripe from your collarbone to just beneath your ear. His hips slot between your own and a strong hands hook around the backs of your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest. You whimper. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so completely and utterly exposed. 

“On to the main event, yeah?” The twinkle in his eye has your heart racing even faster. His fingers catch the towel that is somehow still wrapped snugly around his waist. With one tug, it’s gone and your mouth is watering in anticipation. 

Your jaw drops lower, if it’s even possible. He’s… huge. Long and pretty with veins that you know are going to rub just right. His tip is pink and leaking, ready. 

“Satoru, it won’t–” 

His lips connect to your pulse, licking and sucking when you feel him prodding at your entrance. “It’ll fit, baby.” 

He slides himself through your folds, gathering your juices and torturing you every time his tip bumps your clit. By the time he’s finally lining himself up, you’re practically begging. 

The first push is heaven. You’re both moaning when he prods past that first tight ring of muscle and you’re gasping, crying out his name and clawing at his back. He keeps pushing, filling you inch by inch until he’s pressed snugly against your cervix. You thank him aloud when he pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to his size, to the feeling of being filled to the absolute brim. He only kisses the tears from your cheeks. 

The first thrust has you seeing stars, little white spots clouding your vision. The second has your nails embedding in his skin hard enough to draw blood. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it has him moving faster, grunting in your ear and whimpering your name.

“Sooo… f-ahh-ucking t-tight…” he whispers. 

A hand slides between your sweaty bodies, a thumb rubbing familiar circles against your swollen clit. You cry out, clenching down like a vice. 

“F-Fuck, princess.” 

His thrusts rock your body and the sound of skin slapping skin echoes in the air. You feel that familiar coil begin to form, to heat at your core. Your muscles tighten and your legs begin to shake. 

“Atta girl. Cum on my cock, baby.” 

You whimper at the praise, at the incessant rubbing of your clit, at the relentless pounding of your cervix. It’s all too much, too good. 

“Satoru…” you cry. Your legs burn and ache. Satoru has your knees pressed so tightly to your chest you’re afraid something might snap. It only adds to the tension beginning to unravel at your center. You feel as if you’re burning, as if you’re going to snap– and then you do. Heat unravels beneath your skin and your mouth falls open in a silent cry. Your legs tremble and your toes curl and you vaguely hear your husband whispering a mix of curses and praises in your ear. You’re still lost in the sensation when he starts groaning and you feel him flooding your insides with shallow thrusts close to your cervix, filling you with rope after rope of his hot cum. You’re still panting when you finally regain your mind. Satoru’s still on top of you, completely limp with his head buried in your neck. You curl a hand into his hair, silently holding him close. That was some of the most mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had. You smirk. Yeah, maybe this baby-making business wasn’t going to be so bad. 

You shiver when you feel Satoru licking and sucking at your skin. There’s a tenderness in the action that makes you pull him closer. He hasn’t even pulled out yet, but you can already feel him hardening inside you, ready for another round. 

“Think it stuck?” he asks. You smirk and answer with a breathy laugh. 

“Don’t know.” Silently, you think that there’s no way it didn’t. You can feel his cum dripping down your thighs and there’s just so much of it.

He lifts his head, eyes bright and sparkling even in the dim light. He grins. “Guess we’d better make sure.” 

~

With the rate at which Satoru fucks you it’s no surprise when you get two positive little pink lines a few week later. You tell Satoru by unceremoniously dropping the test in front of him while he’s drinking his morning coffee. He only grins and kisses you before he bends you over the counter, whispering something about needing to show you how appreciative he is when he slides inside you. The next morning you wake to Satoru’s lips on yours, a brand new credit card, and a new car in the driveway, fitted with all of the newest safety features (only the best for his wife and baby, he says). You sigh and smile when you see it. Yeah, this whole baby-making business definitely wasn’t so bad.

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

#jjk smut #gojo smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #tw: breeding #bree’s fics

[werecreature-addicted]

hear me out. orc husband…+ ….breeding..?!:&:$;$&2 going crazy

Big Orc husband who throws you down on the big war room table and shoves your legs open.

"you think it's funny to tease me in front of my men?" He growls forcing your legs open. You weren't even trying to tease him- but the truth is your presence is enough to distract him and tempt him.

He tears your clothes off your body as he growls into your neck. "Gonna fuck you hard you scream- I'm going to make sure the whole camp hears how I make you mine,"

It's a threat but he means every word. He can't stand the way the other men at camp look at you, you belong to him and they should all know that by now, every learning glance they send your way drives him insane.

"Maybe I should knock you up... that'll send a message," he snarls as he pushes his fat cock into you. your eyes roll back in your head, you try to respond but all that comes out of your mouth is a broken moan of pleasure.

"Oh, you like that Idea? you want to be my breeding bitch?" he asks. the more he fucks you the more he can't let go of the idea. The thought of you round with his child drives him wild. it's all he wants.

When he cums he doesn't pull out for a long time, he keeps you there, ankles around his shoulders and back pressed to the cold wood of the table. When he does pull out he uses his thick green fingers to push the spilled cum back into you.

"Naughty girl wasting my seed like that... I'll have to fuck it back into you later."

#monster imagine #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #orc x reader #orc boyfriend #orc x reader smut #monster smut

[theartofangirling]

part 3 of the 2023 version of this post: adult books!

part 1: middle grade books | part 2: young adult books

this is a very incomplete list, as these are only books I've read and enjoyed. not all books are going to be for all readers, so I'd recommend looking up synopses and content warnings. feel free to message me with any questions about specific representation!

list of books under the cut ⬇️

yerba buena by nina lacour

if we were villains by m.l. rio

everyone in this room will someday be dead by emily r. austin

i want to be a wall by honami shirono

portrait of a thief by grace d. li

the thirty names of night by zeyn joukhadar

on earth we're briefly gorgeous by ocean vuong

love & other disasters by anita kelly

take a hint, dani brown by talia hibbert

boyfriend material by alexis hall

almost like being in love by steve kluger

the charm offensive by alison cochrun

something wild & wonderful by anita kelly

red, white & royal blue by casey mcquiston

something to talk about by meryl wilsner

honey girl by morgan rogers

one last stop by casey mcquiston

once ghosted, twice shy by alyssa cole

kiss her once for me by alison cochrun

a spindle splintered by alix e. harrow

finna by nino cipri

every heart a dooryway by seanan mcguire

the starless sea by erin morgenstern

under the whispering door by tj klune

space opera by catherynne m. valente

light from uncommon stars by ryka aoki

dead collections by isaac fellman

the city we became by n.k. jemisin

light carries on by ray nadine

an absolutely remarkable thing by hank green

feed them silence by lee mandelo

summer sons by lee mandelo

upright women wanted by sarah gailey

lavender house by lev a.c. rosen

fried green tomatoes at the whistle stop cafe by fannie flagg

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo by taylor jenkins reid

a master of djinn by p. djeli clark

witchmark by c.l. polk

a marvellous light by freya marske

a restless truth by freya marske

when women were dragons by kelly barnhill

plain bad heroines by emily m. danforth

a lady for a duke by alexis hall

infamous by lex croucher

passing strange by ellen klages

even though i knew the end by c.l. polk

the chosen and the beautiful by nghi vo

whiskey when we're dry by john larison

wake of vultures by lila bowen

silver in the wood by emily tesh

the once and future witches by alix e. harrow

the kingdoms by natasha pulley

a tip for the hangman by allison epstein

she who became the sun by shelley parker-chan

the song of achilles by madeline miller

spear by nicola griffith

this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone

gideon the ninth by tamsyn muir

some desperate glory by emily tesh

all systems red by martha wells

a psalm for the wild built by becky chambers

the mimicking of known successes by malka older

winter's orbit by everina maxwell

fireheart tiger by aliette de bodard

empress of salt and fortune by nghi vo

legends and lattes by travis baldree

the house in the cerulean sea by tj klune

other ever afters by melanie gillman

the priory of the orange tree by samantha shannon

a day of fallen night by samantha shannon

a strange and stubborn endurance by foz meadows

the unbroken by c.l. clark

real queer america by samantha allen

fun home by alison bechdel

in the dream house by carmen maria machado

better living through birding by christian cooper

why fish don't exist by lulu miller

#lgbtq+ books #queer books #book recommendations #gay books #book flow chart #part 3 of 3! #AND THAT'S IT oh my god this took me days #mp

[azrielsdove]

Ive been loving all the fics youve been posting. I had this lil idea that hopefully sparks joy for you if ur requests are open. Its an azriel x reader. Where reader is very cold hearted and kinda mean almost bitchy like nesta. Hates to be touched eapecially on her back. Azriel hates her cuz she so unpleastant and so incredibly difficult. The bond snaps for azriel and hes so so confused because he for sure thought elain was for him. Reader always looks at azriels hands almost disgusted but the truth is that she had her wings cut off and the stumps burned down to her flesh, so her entire back is scarred like azriels hands. Her face isnt of disgust but since he hides his hands she assumes he'd be disgusted in her. Azriel softens up to her when he finds out she has a soft spot for children, maybe she teaches orphaned children in the city. Idk i just like the idea of a cold hearted reader thats just as scarred as azzy but actually has a soft heart for kids. Or maybe shes always longed for a family of her own but cant get passed her own insecurities. You can change whatever you'd like to fit your writing style. ❤️

Thank you love!!!! I am OBSESSED with this idea and took off with it. I decided to turn it into a mini series, when I started writing the Readers POV it was getting wayyyy long. I hope I have done your idea justice, here is part 1 <3

Cold Hearts: Azriel x Reader

Chapter Warnings: None

Pt. 2 Here

***

Azriel couldn’t stand her. She was nothing but cold and hateful to everyone, especially to him. When she had first come to stay with Rhysand in Velaris, he had tried to be kind to her. Rhys hadn’t told anyone why he brought her, and she certainly never opened up about it.

The first day he met her, she was sitting silently in the small library in the House of Wind. Azriel had smiled at her and given a “Good morning.” She had turned sharply to look at him, her gaze focusing on the hand he waved with. He watched the look of disgust come over her face before she turned back to staring into the fire.

Azriel had been a little taken aback. Sure, he struggled with the way his hands looked, and was no stranger to the dirty looks. The look on her face had been nastier than he had ever seen. She looked at his hands like they caused her pain. He left the library after that, not sure what to think.

Many years had gone by since that first meeting, and Azriel preferred to stay far away from her. No one else wears very fond of her either. He still didn’t know why Rhys had brought her here, nor why he allowed her to stay. She spent most of her days locked in her room or sitting in the library. She occasionally came to meals with the family, rarely speaking. And when she did speak? It was always some cold remark, as if she wanted to be anywhere else with anyone else.

So why did she stay?

Azriel pondered that question far too often. When Rhys became trapped Under the Mountain, he had included that everyone should be prepared for war in his last message. Azriel took it upon himself to train her. He had shown up to her room early in the morning, expecting a fight. To his shock, she willingly came.

She took to training quicker than Azriel had thought. She proved to have some skill under that cold shell she showed everybody, even if it took some coaxing for it to come out. He was impressed. Azriel even started enjoying teaching her, until the day she lashed out at him and declared she never wanted to see him again.

He didn’t know what he had done wrong.

He was trying to teach her a slightly difficult new maneuver. She was struggling to angle her body the correct way, unable to understand how Azriel did it. He had reached out to help her, placing a hand on her lower back and shoulder to move her body into place. She shot out of his grasp like he had stabbed her, whipping around to face him.

“What do you think you are doing?” She had seethed, eyes on fire. Azriel had held his hands up in surrender, confused.

“I was just trying to help-“ He had begun, being cut off by her.

“Don’t. Don’t fucking touch me.” She had glared at his hands, a stare he didn’t miss.

“I don’t understand why you must be so insufferable all of the time!” Azriel had snapped, fed up with the constant negativity and judgement that came from her.

“Maybe don’t be a nasty pig and grab up on any female you see!” She had shouted, turning to leave the ring. “Stay away from me. I don’t wish to see you anymore.”

And that was that.

Cassian had taken over her training from then on out. Azriel was fine with it. She clearly had some sort of issue with him, and it seemed to stem from his hands. His ugly, scarred hands. Were they really so grotesque she couldn’t even stand him touching her?

***

When Rhysand had returned from Under the Mountain, things got better and worse. At first, she had been kinder. Azriel had noticed how she rushed to Rhys before anyone else, how carefully she wrapped him in her arms. The two of them had disappeared after that, not seen until the next day. Azriel couldn’t figure out why the two of them had such a bond, why Rhysand cared for her so much. He had just come back and announced that the human girl - Feyre - was his mate, so it couldn’t be a romantic attraction.

Or could it?

Azriel shook his head, demanding those thoughts the leave his mind. Ignoring the spark of jealousy that ran through him. He didn’t know why he cared so much about her.

***

Elain. There was no doubt in Azriels mind that Elain was his. Rhysand had Feyre, Cassian had Nesta, naturally Azriel would have Elain. It didn’t matter that the cauldron had mated her with Lucien. Three sisters, three brothers. Anyone could read what that meant.

Azriel tried not to notice the way she had slunk into the shadows lately. When Feyre first came to the Night Court, the two had struck up a friendship. Azriel couldn’t believe his eyes and ears when he saw how fun and sweet she was with Feyre. It further confirmed his belief that she was so disgusted in his scars that she couldn’t stand to be near him. She had even started to being nicer to Cassian, her training with him going much better than yours with Azriels had.

Once the bond snapped with Feyre and Rhysand, she had taken a small step back from the both of them. When it snapped with Cassian and Nesta, she had backed away from Cass as well. She barely even had a witty retort anymore, choosing to stay quiet most of the time.

Azriel felt like no one else had noticed the change in her. However, he had to admit, so much change had happened in such a short time that he couldn’t blame them for not realizing.

Why did he realize?

Even as she created small friendships with the others, she ignored Azriel. She only looked at him to stare at his hands. He had taken to wearing his gloves around her at all times, but she just stared as if she could see through the fabric. He had spent decades trying to be nice to her, for nothing. She rarely spoke to him, mostly just gave that look to his hands.

She was always going to be cruel to him.

***

Azriel was trying desperately to find a Solecist gift for Elain. He knew he had a reputation for gifts, and he wanted to make sure what he got Elain was perfect. As perfect as she is.

And he had no idea what that would be.

He was wandering the paths of Velaris aimlessly, peering into the stores as he passed, trying to see anything that seemed like Elain. He was getting worried that he would never find anything, turning away from yet another shop.

He stopped when he saw her.

She was inside a little building, large windows open for anyone to see in. He watched as she stood at the front of the room, facing a small group of…children? He angled his body a little to see clearly into the room, listening to her voice come through the window. Her tone was kinder than he had ever heard it. Azriel watched with wide eyes as she demonstrated a defense move-a move he had taught her.

And now she was teaching it to children.

He watched for the rest of the class, amazed at how well the kids grasped onto the concepts she was teaching. He felt his heart skip when her laughter floated out the windows, a bright smile on her face as she looked at one of the students. He had never seen her like this before.

When the class ended he watched as one of the smaller children ran up to her and threw their arms around her legs. Azriel expected her to jump back at the touch, instead watching her bend down and wrap her arms around them. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He couldn’t believe any of this. He turned and headed back to the House, the gift for Elain long forgotten.

***

He wanted to approach her. He wanted to ask about the children he saw her teaching. He had a sudden desire to know more about her, to see who she may be under that cold exterior.

Azriel should have known she wouldn’t let him.

It was a few days after he had spotted her in town, and he had finally found her alone in the little library. He cleared his throat as he approached her, hoping to get her attention. Of course, she ignored him. He shouldn’t have been hurt by it, but he had been so hopeful after seeing her with the children.

Azriel called her name.

Her head slowly turned to him, eyes blazing. “Yes?” She asked coolly. Azriel have a small smile, refusing to lose his nerve now.

“I saw you, in town? With the children? I-“ He started, cut off by her suddenly standing.

“Spying on me, are you?” She asked, anger all over her face.

“No! No! I was shopping, for Elain, and I happened to walk by!” Azriel was gesturing wildly, not wanting you to think he was following you. “I saw you and then I saw the children and I was interested. You were, nice to them.” He cursed the words as they came out of his mouth, sounding just as sorry as one could imagine.

She scoffed. “Why would I not be? They’re kids.” Her words were sharp and Azriel felt embarrassment creep up his neck.

“Well, you’re not really nice to anyone.” He bit out, temper rising as she laughed.

“You don’t know anything about me.” She said, looking at him curiously.

“Oh? Is that so?” Azriel felt the words coming out before he could stop them, all the things he had wanted to say for years. “Maybe that’s because you don’t let anyone get close to you. I tried to be your friend in the beginning, just for you to be cold and nasty. You are always cold and nasty. I’ve noticed you slowly losing the friends you have made, slinking off into the shadows. Do you ever stop to think that maybe it’s because you’re a cold-hearted bitch?”

She looked like he had slapped her.

“W-what?” She stumbled out, eyes wide.

Now it was Azriels turn to scoff. “Don’t pretend to be innocent now. You rarely speak to anyone except for Rhys, and when you do it’s usually to tell them to leave you alone! Even when I was trying to train you, you lashed out at me for just trying to help. You have always acted like I disgust you, always glaring at my hands. Do they really upset you so much that you have to act like i’m the worst thing you’ve ever encountered? That you have to look at me like that and flinch when I touch you? I tried to be nice to you, just for you to react like that.” He was breathing heavy, all the hurt coming to the surface.

He watched her eyes flash and then suddenly, she was yelling at him. “How dare you? You have no idea what you are talking about. Are you so self centered that you truly believe everything I do is about you? Do you ever stop for one second to think that maybe, just maybe, I have my own shit to deal with?” Her cheeks were colored red, her hands clenching into fists.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “We all have our own shit going on. It doesn’t mean we take all of our miserable feelings out on everyone else!”

“I don’t! I just don’t have any interest in getting close with you. Not everyone has to want to lick the ground you walk on, Shadowsinger.” She spat out the last word like it was dirt in her mouth.

“Why not? What have I ever done that makes you hate me so? What has any of us done? The only one of us you would talk to for years was Rhysand. Did you love him? Are you bitter now that he has a mate and no one will ever be interested in you?” Azriel knew that was a low blow, but his anger overrode him common sense.

“What are you talking about? The relationship between me and Rhysand is none of your business. For a spymaster, you’re truly horrible at reading a situation.” She was angry, angrier than she had been in decades.

Azriel didn’t care. “No one here likes you. They’ve all moved on from their short friendships with you. Even your precious Rhys has found someone else to occupy his time with. Why do you stay here? You have no one.” He felt the pain in his chest at the expression on her face.

She blinked quickly, fighting tears. “You are the cruel one, Azriel.” She turned and ran from the room, leaving him in the aftermath of their fight.

It was the first time she had said his name.

He felt it snap in his chest, the tug to follow you. He could barely react, the shock of it keeping him rooted to the spot. No, he thought. No. Not her. It wasn’t supposed to be her.

The mating bond didn’t care for his concerns.

***

Please let me know how you feel!! Honestly Pt. 2 should be out tonight or tomorrow, i’m pretty far into it. I’m thinking this will be a 3-4 part mini series!!!

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel #rhysand #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #cold hearts

[nonasuch]

here is a fun little star wars scenario that has been pinging around inside my head like a screensaver:

so let’s say there’s some very zealous, very low-ranking fresh young Imperial officer on duty the day they take the Senator from Alderaan into custody. 

and he is very very nervous because a) he’s been here for like a week and b) none of that week required him to be in a room with Darth Vader. which he now is. so he is trying to focus very very hard on Doing Everything Exactly According To Protocol, as a means of not focusing on the seven-foot evil wizard standing fifteen feet away.

and part of the protocol for processing new prisoners is to make a new file for them in the prisoner database, and enter all their biographical details and vital statistics and a gene sample and their known associates and the nature of their terrible crimes against the Empire and so on. which he does! very meticulously!

except the computer keeps throwing an error message. the stupid thing keeps beeping at him, this awful grating little noise that makes his shoulders ratchet up tighter and tighter every time it honks at him, and he can’t fix it and Darth Vader is right over there—

except oh god oh fuck the beeping noise must be annoying Darth Vader, too, because he’s coming over here and our poor junior officer is convinced he’s going to die before he even lives long enough to send his first paycheck home to his poor widowed mother —

he stammers out an apology. Vader just stares at him. he swears he’ll figure out the problem right away, sir, it’s probably a bug in the system, it’s just that for some silly reason it keeps saying this gene sample doesn’t match the one on file for the Senator so he can’t get her logged as a new prisoner just yet —

“Dismissed,” says Vader. the poor kid flees, gratefully.

Vader considers the matter. in fact, his underling was correct: the gene sample, which he saw taken through his very own helmet lenses, does not match the official record of Senator Leia Organa, heir to the throne of Alderaan. so: perhaps the sample on record was falsified. not impossible, but very, very difficult. and ordinarily a crime attempted by the lowly and desperate. he cannot see any need for it, in the daughter of a queen.

another possibility presents itself. Alderaan has no history of using royal doubles, as some worlds do. but Bail Organa has worked closely with royal houses where the practice is long-established. perhaps he was inspired. perhaps the girl they captured is not Leia Organa at all.

Vader runs the gene sample against the ship’s database. it is woefully incomplete, of course, containing only a fraction of the Empire’s billions of citizens: the ship’s own complement, a selection of known criminals and Rebels they might encounter, high-ranking officials whose identity must be confirmed should the Emperor require their presence. unlikely that this girl, whoever she is, would have a record here, or even a partial match—

the computer beeps at him. it’s a cheerful beep, this time, not the error message that stymied the junior officer. the computer reports that the gene sample is a partial match for Pooja Naberrie, the Senator from Naboo. they are, with eighty-nine percent probability, first cousins.

and Vader just. kind of stands there. for a minute.

when he goes to Leia’s cell, there’s no interrogation droid with him. he goes in. he shuts the door behind him. he stands there, silent, for frankly a worryingly long time, until Leia has run through her entire stockpile of  “how dare you, I’m a member of the Senate on a humanitarian mission” and “whatever you want, you can’t possibly think I would be of any help” and “well, if you’re going to interrogate me, get on with it already” and “are you even listening to me?” and  falls silent herself. 

Vader has been listening to her. he has also been listening to the Force, which seems to think that she’s not lying. obviously the humanitarian mission part is bullshit, that goes without saying. but the “I’m Senator Leia Organa” parts and the “I won’t help you” parts? yeah. he searched his feelings. he knows them to be true. the Force is singing in his head, bright and clear, in a way it hasn’t for nearly twenty years.

there’s still Tarkin to deal with, though. Vader turns and leaves the cell without a word.

Tarkin wants to blow up Alderaan. this is unacceptable, obviously, and Vader forbids it on the grounds that the Queen and the Viceroy possess vital intelligence, not disclosed to their daughter, that must be acquired. said intelligence being, not that he’s saying this out loud, how the fuck Bail got his hands on his daughter, and who else knows about it.

“the fate of the galaxy rests on it,” is what he does say out loud. from the way the Force harmonizes with his words, that might even be true.

so the Death Star just. parks there. in an incredibly threatening orbit around the planet. they issue a demand that the Organas surrender themselves, or else, but apparently the happy couple just left for a low-tech weekend retreat in the mountains, what awful timing, they’re sending someone to fetch them right away. Vader shuts himself up in his quarters, to seethe and watch the surveillance feed from Leia’s cell. he’s not really paying attention to much else. 

and it’s not like a random freighter getting tractored in for being an incredibly obvious smuggling vessel is the kind of thing you’d alert Darth Vader over, anyway. 

so he’s still sitting there, one great big thought filling up his whole entire head, watching Leia take a frustration nap, when her cell door opens. 

and a trooper comes in.

and the trooper takes off his helmet.

and he says, “I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.”

(continued here)

#i have no idea what happens after that but it's definitely not the plot of star wars: a new hope #star wars #not fic

[incarnateirony]

Pat: "the panel was a J2 love fest."

Cool, since I've now distributed the M&G to several hundred people to the point you can't trace the source, are you going to lie to all of them about Watching Over Me, Jensen's admission of his subconscious driving the lyrics about cas, his coyness in refusing to spoil the confession's address, about the Not Volume 3 song being used in the Winchesters, or about the fact that he confirmed this is both a prequel and a sequel like I told you? oh and the. how many blogs or theories are right. oops. Gayle fucked up and didn't tell you shit, I guess. remember I said people hear only what they want to out of the M&G?

This shit right here, he just outright deleted everything that would prove him wrong, probably because Gayle didn't bother to communicate half of it. One of the people he's relying on to back him up and lie and say this didn't happen is about to get banned from conventions for threatening physical assault on hellers for daring to ruin her M&G. in public. like, with receipts. people sent creation receipts.

His source may be soon as well depending how angry gary gets. otherwise we wait for creation to react and remove xmiamigirl forever, and possibly others engaging that conversation. Say goodbye to half the Jared M&Gers if Creation goes that far, but they're probably just taking out miami. and gayle for her NDA violations if gary has a say. these people think investing in mantra and silly shit will make them safe but just you wait until a business feels you're a liability they could get sued or lose contracts over.

the J2 love fest is actually a report about miami girl. She was openly drinking tequila inside the meet and greet and interrupting everyone, be them heller or jensen, to bitch/moan/wax poetic about jared, and was reported as incredibly obnoxious and causing the familiar jensen jaw-set more than once. I imagine the tequila was a factor in her being dumb enough to threaten to cut hellers up for ruining her M&G, in public, but alcohol just makes you looser so they just be like that. They're big mad the whole thing became a heller show, tried to interrupt, screamed and bitched and threatened to kill hellers for ruining it, but sure Pat, it was great, heller-free, all-about-jared, yup.

This definitely isn't you, as a salty jared stan and wincel that pretends to ship other shit, doing the same reality deletion you do all the time. It was obviously great and no heller stuff whatsoever and miami totally didn't turn into a raving death threat cunt in public. Why do you guys do this to yourselves? You know you're lying, you see the writing enough on the wall to throw tequila and threats at it, but you guys just won't let go. Let go of the goddamn stuffed bunny, guys

it's funny because they're trying to bait me to "prove" to creation that a heller leaked and, like, no guys. When you're a drunk raving bitch threatening to cut people, other people talk. Now if you wanna look at leaks, you can check teamfreewill2pointo's blog, and narrow down which M&G attendants have been able to be at every con he's gotten news from. Hint, it's Gayle. It's Gayle, and it's not hard to figure out. because 2p0 is an incompetent slob and feeds his followers her line every weekend, leaving a long confirmable paper trail.

Sweetie you should know better than any heller in that M&G being mine, they would have never asked IF Jensen was doing the confession, but rather when or how they had talked about it looking. But you might wanna check your buddy rings real close and see how they run their mouths in the main room. technically that whole group was immediately complicit in NDA violation. someone else in that room knew the song. use your noodles. this game of yours is over.

#there's a message for all of you in the war room

[serpentandlily]

Untouchable II - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

a/n: Thank you all so much for all the love on the first part of this story! If you want to be added to the tag list, either comment or message or send me an ask :)

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part II

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The minute you guys winnowed into the foyer of the River House, you were nearly tackled to the ground by your own brother. He spun you in a circle, greeting you as if you’d just come back from a war or something. You couldn’t help but giggle at his huge overreaction.

“You act like I’ve been gone for years,” you laughed.

“It felt like it,” he replied, giving you what you assumed was his best impression of a sad puppy dog—an odd sight to see on such a powerful High Lord.

He had barely set you down when you were scooped up into someone else’s arms. Luckily Cassian wasn’t as dramatic as your brother. He pulled away to hold you at arm's length, taking a sweeping glance down your body. 

“You’ve lost some muscle mass and what is this you’re wearing,” he chided in a teasing, affectionate tone. “Are you even still part of the night court, y/n?”

A scoff sounded from behind the General and you peeked over his shoulder to see Azriel standing there, his arms crossed. “She’s only been gone for three months.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him and you quickly pulled your eyes away, ignoring the strain in your chest. You jokingly shoved Cassian away from you. “I’m gone for three months and the first thing you say to me is that I’ve lost muscle? Can take the boy out of Illyria but not Illyria out of the boy.” 

“Damn right,” Cassian said proudly as you stepped around him, finding the rest of your family lounging about in the sitting room. “Besides, do my letters to you not count as talking?”

You rolled your eyes before giving Azriel a smile. He dipped his head in greeting, his eyes trailing over your form, but made no move to embrace you like the other two. 

“You wrote letters to Cass and Rhys,” he said. “But not to me? I thought I was your favorite.”

“Rhys demanded I write to him. And Cass wrote to me first.” You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. 

A muscle ticked in his jaw when he met your eyes again but he said nothing else so you brushed past him, squeezing him on the shoulder as you did, determined to not let his presence squander the confidence you had built up these past months. 

As soon as you stepped into the sitting room, a baby was pushed into your arms. You smiled at Feyre, pressing a kiss to her cheek in greeting and happily accepting to hold Nyx, your nephew. “It’s good to see you, y/n. Being on the continent has done you wonders. You look beautiful.” 

“Thank you, I’ve been immensely enjoying my time there. But I missed you too, Fey,” you replied with a wink before hoisting the baby further up in your arms to snuggle against his head. “And Gods, I missed you, little one.”

“He missed you too, you know.” You looked up at Rhys who was leaning against the back of the chair Feyre had plopped down in. “You’re the only one who knows how to make him laugh when he’s in one of his moods.”

You saw his words for what they truly were - ammunition. A way to guilt you to stay. The sad part was it kind of worked. If there was anyone you’d drop everything for, it was your nephew. “I think you guys did just fine without me.”

“Some of us did,” Amren piped up. “Others wouldn’t shut up about you. ‘What do you think y/n is doing right now?’ ‘When do you think she is going to come home?’ ‘Send me to the continent to check on y/n.’” She mocked, glaring at your brother. But then her glare shifted to the shadowsinger who gave her an unamused look. Your cheeks turned pink. Had she been including Azriel in that…  

“I’m glad you’re finally spreading those wings, girl. It’s about time,” Amren continued, pulling you from your thoughts. 

“Anyways,” Mor cut in. “Are you going to tell us what is so important that you dragged me and your sister back for?”

“I will, during our family dinner,” Rhys said. “We’re still waiting for Lucien.”

You couldn’t help but glance at Elain, who looked just about as uncomfortable as you did. It wasn’t that you specifically had anything against the fox. But he had been the close companion of the male who was the reason your mother was dead, the reason you had almost lost your wings and your life that fateful night. It made it hard to be around him without thinking of Tamlin, which brought back those painful memories. 

Conversation turned normal after that and you tried to keep your eyes away from the shadowsinger. Instead you listened to Cassian and Nesta talk about the improvements the Valkyries had made in the three months you were gone. You promised Cass that you’d go to training with them tomorrow morning. 

Lucien finally showed up and the small party was moved to the dining room. You took a seat next to Cassian and your heart nearly froze as you watched the redhead enter and make his way towards the empty chair next to you. You clenched your skirt in your fist but before he could take it, Azriel cut in front of him and claimed the chair as his. 

You gave him a small, grateful smile. He nodded and you turned away as Elain sat down next to him. Great. Perfect. Now you’d have to listen to them all night. Perhaps the fox would’ve been a better choice. 

Dinner was served and you poked at your food. Your proximity to the shadowsinger made your appetite minimal. You leaned your head against Cass’s shoulder, taking comfort in him. Cassian had always felt like a second big brother to you. And he treated you as such. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured to you, stacking more food on your plate. “You’ve got to eat if you’re going to come train with us tomorrow.” 

Nesta rolled her eyes from next to him and you covered your grin. You were about to reply when Rhys stood. The room quieted when he cleared his throat. “Feyre and I have invited you here tonight for a reason. Would you like to do the honors, darling?” He tilted his head to her and she stood, smiling.

You couldn’t help but melt at the sight of your brother and his mate. You were so happy he finally had the life he deserved. Feyre placed her tattooed hand on her stomach and your eyes widened, a gasp escaping your mouth as you realized what this announcement was.

“I’m pregnant again,” she said, pure happiness in her voice. “With a little baby girl.”

Cheers and shouts erupted around the room but you were the first to jump up and hug Feyre. You couldn’t stop smiling as you let her go to be embraced by the others, taking your brother in your arms instead. 

“Congratulations,” you whispered in his ear. “I’m so happy for you, Rhysie.” 

“I can’t believe it,” he muttered back. “Another baby. In less than two years.”

You felt claws scrape against your mental shield. 

We’re going to name her after mother. We’ve already discussed it. 

You pulled back with shock, looking up into his eyes to make sure he was telling the truth. Tears lined his eyes as he nodded at you. A small cry broke from your lip as you hugged him again. When you finally composed yourself, you let him go so the others could have their turn with him. You stood off to the side, wiping your tears.

You were so distracted that you didn’t even notice the male who fell into place next to you. “Are you alright?” 

You looked up at Azriel who was watching you with concern in those beautiful hazel eyes. You nodded, clearing your throat. “They’re going to name her after our mother. After Selene.” 

Azriel’s eyes widened and then he glanced at your brother, a small smile on his lips. You know how much Azriel and Cassian had loved your mother too. Had felt the loss of her all the same. You sucked in a breath and wiped away any lingering tears. 

Azriel looked back down at you, his eyes searching your face. Part of you wanted to use your daemati gifts, to take a peek inside his head, to see what he was thinking. But you would never cross that line. 

“You’ve got make-up,” he said, gesturing towards your face. “Here.” 

You went to wipe it but he grabbed your hand. “Let me.”  

He conjured a cloth napkin in his hand and gripped your chin with his other gloved hand, tilting your face up at him. Your eyes widened at his touch and you froze in place, your breath caught in your throat. He dapped at a spot on your check, just below your eye. 

You hated the effect he had on you. How his scent wrapped around you, his mere presence clouding your mind. Hated how you wished to step closer to him. This wasn’t the first time he had done something as intimate as this with you but those moments were far and few between. 

He was surprisingly gentle as he wiped at your face, his hand never leaving your chin even as his other fell back to his side. He stared down at you with an indiscernible emotion and your eyes bounced between his. Part of you wished this small moment would never end. But wishing and praying had never done you any good and the moment was over before you knew it. 

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Elain had made her way over to you and Azriel dropped his grip on you like your skin had burned him. You swallowed harshly, looking at the girl who had captured his heart in the short time she had been here. 

“I’m okay, Elain,” you replied with a little dip of your head. “Just a bit emotional is all.” 

She smiled at you and you wished more than anything that you could hate her. But you couldn’t. She had only ever been sweet to you. Only ever wanted to be your friend. “I can’t believe we’re about to have another baby around here. You’ll have to help me set up the nursery for Feyre again, y/n!”

“Of course!”

Elain’s hand rested on Azriel’s bicep and the sight made the dinner you had just eaten churn in your stomach. You needed to get away from them. It hadn’t been long enough. You hadn’t been away long enough to get rid of these stupid feelings. You glanced back at Azriel to find him still looking at you. You mustered up the will to give them a parting smile before dipping away. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Feyre and Rhysand had called it a night after some time celebrating but Mor had declared the night wasn’t over. At least not for you two. You hadn’t hesitated to agree to go to Rita’s—ready to let loose after having to deal with the heartache of being near Azriel and Elain. 

Cassian and Nesta decided to come as well. And then to everyone’s surprise, Azriel had also said he’d come which made Elain shyly say she’d come as well. Just when you’d thought you’d have a moment of relief, the Mother had decided to spite you again. Perhaps she was just trying to drill home the point that Azriel would never be yours. 

Mor passed you another shot glass and you chugged it before even asking what was in it. All you knew was you wanted to be drunk—and fast. You were squeezed between Nesta and Mor in the large booth your group occupied. 

Your eyes flicked to the other side of the table. Azriel and Elain sat there, both sipping on their drinks. Neither of them looked comfortable and you wondered why they even bothered to come. 

“I wanna dance,” you slurred, pouting at Mor. You shoved at your cousin to let you out of the booth and she chuckled, moving out of the way. 

“Take Mor with you, sweetheart.”

Nesta elbowed Cassian in his side. “She’s not a little girl, Cass.”

“She’s fine on her own,” Mor bit, backing up Nesta. “Besides, we can still see her from here.”

You missed the disapproving glare Azriel threw at Mor who rolled her eyes at him. The alcohol had finally taken effect, making you feel carefree. You let the music take over as you pushed your way into the dancing crowd. 

For once you basked in the attention you were receiving and when you felt large hands wrap around your waist from behind, you didn’t falter like you might’ve before. You glanced up to see a high fae male smirking down at you. He was handsome with brown eyes and shaggy blonde hair.

You gave him your family’s signature feline grin and decided to just go with it—anything to get the shadowsinger out of your mind. 

“Don’t,” Mor growled at Azriel as he went to stand up, his eyes locked on you and the male. Cassian watched with an annoyed frown. “Let her have fun. She knows how to handle herself.” 

You were oblivious to the two disgruntled bats at the table though. A few more songs passed before the male grabbed your hand and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Come. Let me buy you a drink.”

You smiled and let him drag you to the bar. His hand slid to your lower back as you watched him place an order for both of you. He turned to hand you the drink the bartender made and his eyes widened as he looked at something over your shoulder. 

Your brows furrowed until that familiar scent hit you. 

“Leave us,” Azriel growled at him from behind you. 

The male glanced between the two of you. “Sorry, I didn’t know she was here with someone.” 

“I’m not here with him.” You crossed your arms, annoyed. The male’s eyebrow quirked up in amusement, looking back at Azriel.

“Well, it seems like the lady doesn’t want you here, pal,” he said. “So why don’t you leave us?” 

A sliver of fear crossed his eyes as Azriel took a step forward, his hard chest pressing into your back. “Get lost,” he snarled, his voice pure ice. “Now.” 

Your mouth dropped open as the male scurried off this time, evidently not wanting a confrontation with the shadowsinger. You whirled around to see Azriel glaring down at you. You pushed him away with a hand to his chest. 

“What is your problem?!” 

“My problem?” he snapped back at you. “That male was clearly going to take advantage of you. You should be thanking me for scaring him off.”

“Why the hell should I thank you! He wasn’t taking advantage of me. I wanted to be with that guy.”

“And he probably just wanted to use you to get close to Rhys for power or money—who knows.” 

You felt a dagger pierce your heart at his words, at his unflinching cold stare. “Right. Because no one would ever want me for anything else. No one might ever just be interested in me and not my connection to Rhys.”

“Oh don’t be naive, y/n,” Azriel said, coldly. Your mouth dropped open, tears started building in your eyes at his cruelty. But then anger finally started to rise, overpowering the hurt.

“Just because you don’t desire me like that, doesn’t mean other males don’t as well! I am not a child anymore, Azriel. I know exactly what males want from me and I also know what I want from them. So do me a favor and leave me alone.”

You chugged the drink in your hand before slamming the glass on the counter.

“Y/n, that’s not what I—”

You turned away, not wanting to hear anything else he said. You couldn’t bear anymore hurt. All you wanted to do was go somewhere else. Somewhere he wasn't so you could unleash the tears stinging your eyes. 

His cold hand grabbed your wrist and whirled you back around. “This conversation isn’t over,” he bit out but you shrugged yourself out of his grip. 

“Yes it is,” you ground out through your teeth. “In fact, instead of sticking your nose in my business, why don’t you worry about your girlfriend’s.”

“My what—”

Azriel turned his head to follow your line of sight back to the booth you had all been sitting at before. Elain sat there alone, Mor likely dancing and Nesta and Cassian probably off making out somewhere. Some guy was leaning against the table talking to Elain, who looked incredibly uncomfortable. 

You didn’t wait to hear Azriel’s response, using the distraction to storm off and disappear in the crowd—your first night had officially been ruined.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The last place you wanted to be today was the House of Wind, but you had promised Cassian and Nesta you’d show up for Valkyrie training and you knew one of them would come looking for you if you hadn’t. You could feel Azriel’s eyes on you from across the training ring but ignored him, keeping your focus on Cass. 

“Alright,” Cass said, clapping his hands together. He had just led you guys through a series of exercises and you could already feel some sweat dripping down your back. “Let’s move on to sparring. Pair up and get started. Y/n, you’re with me today! Got to get you back up to speed.”

You made your way to Cassian but were intercepted by Azriel stepping in between you two. “I’ll take over her training. The new girls need more help.” 

Cassian raised an eyebrow at him but shrugged and walked off, leaving you alone with the shadowsinger. You clenched your fists, not at all happy with having to work with Azriel today when you wanted to avoid him. You were still upset with the way he talked to you last night. 

“Come,” he barked, not even looking at you. “We’ll take the back corner.”

He strode off without even making sure you were following. You let out a puff of air. Great, he was in that sort of mood. 

As soon as you were within range, he tossed you a training sword. You barely caught it, taken off guard. 

“Let’s see how much you’ve regressed while galavanting on the continent.” His tone was cold, clearly as upset with you as you were with him. Before you could even get into a starting position, he came at you. You let out a startled noise, blocking his attack. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. Fine, if this was how he wanted to play, you weren’t going to be the one to back down. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You could barely catch your breath, evading another one of his attacks. Class had already wrapped up, most Priestesses packing up their things to go back to the library. But Azriel hadn’t let up one bit.

“Class is over, Az,” you panted, side stepping another attack. “Can we stop?”

“Class is over when I say it is,” he growled at you. He lifted his sword above his head and came down with an overhead attack. You had to roll out of the way to avoid it. 

“What’s gotten into you?” You snapped, putting some distance between you and him, trying to steady yourself. Azriel had never treated you like this before.

“You’re the one who declared you’re not a child anymore last night,” he snapped back at you. “So I’m not treating you like one. Suck it up, princess, and either disarm me or surrender.”

You gritted your teeth together, annoyed that he was acting like such a prick. Why the hell was he so upset with you? You had done nothing to him. 

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Shut up and fight me,” he growled. “Or surrender and go back to being coddled by your brother like always.” 

Fury sparked a fire in your gut. Since when did you ever ask to be coddled by Rhys? He had been the one that was overprotective, to the point of being paranoid. All you ever did was try to be the person your brother expected you to be, to not have him worry over you. You attacked him this time but he was quick to parry. You felt frustrated tears start to build in your eyes.

“Oh don’t start crying now,” Azriel snarled. “You asked for this.” 

“I never asked for anything from you!” You could hardly keep your sword in your hand, your body shaking from the anger you felt. 

“Because your brother caters to your every need.” He spat out the word brother like it was a curse and that only fueled the fire building in you. “He gives you everything you want, takes care of you, and still you decide to go run off to the continent, causing him to constantly worry about you.”

“Fuck you,” you snapped. “And keep my brother out of this. You know nothing about our relationship!”

He maneuvered behind you, using his free arm to wrap around your neck and pull you flush against his body. You were both panting, both sweating. You could faintly hear Cassian yelling at you guys to stop but you ignored him, too lost in your own anger.

Azriel leaned down, his breath dancing against your ear. “I know you’re just a burden to him. Just another responsibility that fell on his shoulders.” 

The breath was expelled from your lungs, your stomach twisted into a knot. A burden? Is that how Rhys truly saw you? Just something he was being forced to take care of? 

You elbowed Azriel in the stomach and kicked him in the chest away from you. He slid to a stop in the sand but then came back twice as hard. You tried to evade, tried to parry his attacks, but it was no use. You were not close to being the warrior Azriel was.

A knock to your wrist had your sword flying from you hand and you fell on your backside, scooting away from him. He didn’t seem to notice he had unarmed you and raised his sword to slash at you again. You let out a whimper of fear and lifted your hands up to block your face. 

The sword sliced down the middle of your palm and you let out a pained cry. Azriel immediately froze, towering over your much smaller form on the ground. His eyes widened, the sword slipped out of his hand and suddenly Cassian was in between you two, his wings flaring out to block you as he shoved Azriel in the chest—hard. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Cassian screamed at him. He shoved him again but Azriel paid him no mind, his eyes stuck on you still sitting on the floor, now cradling your hand to your chest as blood dripped down your skin. 

“Y/n…” Your name came from his lips, pure anguish in his voice as he stared at you in horror, as if now realizing he had gone way too far. You scrambled to your feet, fighting to rein in your tears. 

Azriel stepped towards you but Cassian grabbed him by the shoulder roughly. “No, leave her alone. Why don’t you tell me what the hell that was?!”

Nesta was glancing between you and Azriel in shock and when she started to make her way towards you, you magick your wings, unfurled them, and took off into the sky as agony ripped through you. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You had hoped to make it to your bedroom before running into anyone, but as per usual, the Mother decided to spite you. You nearly crashed into Rhys as you hurried down the hall. He caught you by your shoulders, his nostrils flaring as he smelt blood, before he looked down at you in surprise. 

"Are you okay?" he asked before taking in the tears still pouring down your face. "Y/n, what happened? Why are you hurt?"

"It's nothing," you mumbled, trying to skirt around him but he yanked you into his office. 

"It's not nothing," he said through clenched teeth, "You're bleeding and crying. Who hurt you?" 

"It was just an accident during training this morning. I'm fine." 

"Dove, please, I've seen you hurt worse than this and you never shed a tear then," he said, stroking your hair. "What happened?"

You couldn't hold it in anymore, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. "Am...am I a b-burden to you?"

"What?" he gasped in surprise. "Where did you get that idea?"

You shook your head, sniffling. Rhys sighed and pulled you into a hug. "Dove, you are not a burden to me. I don't know why you'd ever think that. I love you so much, too much perhaps. If anything, I'm the one who's burdened you with my incessant worrying."

You wished you felt relief but it just made you cry even more. Your brother continued to stroke your hair, holding you close. "Who caused you to think that?"

"No one," you mumbled into his chest. "It's nothing. I just thought—I don't know." 

Rhys pulled back to hold you at arm's length. You tried to avoid eye contact with him but he gripped your chin and forced you to look up at him. Anger was swirling in his eyes. "Tell me who hurt you. Tell me who caused this." 

You shook your head, not wanting to cause a fight between your brother and Azriel. His eyes glazed over for a second and you knew he was communicating with someone in his head. You felt yourself tense up. When his focus came back to you, that anger had grown into rage. You knew he had probably asked Cassian what happened at training and you cursed at the General for snitching. 

He stepped around you and stalked towards the door just as Feyre entered his office. She gasped in surprise as she caught sight of the two of you. "Gods, what happened?"

Rhys brushed past her. "Stay here with her."

Feyre's eyebrows narrowed in confusion. "Rhys, what's going on? Where are you going?" 

He glanced at her over her shoulder, his teeth bared in a snarl. "I'm going to go kick Azriel's ass."

And then he disappeared in a swirl of darkness. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Tag List: @kalulakunundrum @going-through-shit @thelov3lybookworm @tinystarfishgalaxy @cat-or-kitten @abysshaven @vhjlucky13 @polli05927 @nightcourtwritings @wicked-mind @mommyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

#acotar #azriel #fanfic #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x female!reader #azriel x oc #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #shadowsinger x reader #angst #azriel fic

[kaleldobrev]

I Want Them To Hear

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ben wants to make sure Hughie knows what it actually sounds like when the two of you have sex. In other words, Ben makes damn sure Hughie gets yet another night of no sleep because of the two of you.

Original Prompt: Requested by @k-slla | I loved your last post (poor, poor Hughie 😂). I would love to read a sequel, where SB& reader DO keep everyone up, for other reasons 😏 (if you're up to it 😊) x Kerly

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Cursing (23x), Smut (Oral - M&F receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Sex - P in V), Implied p*rn watching, Hughie getting scarred for life (again), Semi-Public sex (living room)

Authors Note: Before you read this make sure you read A Simple Misunderstanding first | I think 23 curse words is a new record for curse words for me (21 out of them are the same too) | I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you all enjoy it! | 18+ only please | MDNI | If you want to request something, just send me a message! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You looked over at the clock that was above the fireplace in the living room, and it was almost midnight, and you weren’t the least bit surprised that you weren’t even tired. Although you didn’t have a good sleep schedule before you joined the Boys (as you were a full-time college student when you joined the group), your sleep schedule somehow became even more jacked when you joined; something you didn’t think was even remotely possible. You had found yourself going to sleep at three, four, sometimes five in the morning, or not even going to sleep at all – a constant flow of energy drinks and coffee to keep you going.

The last couple of days though were unusually uneventful, verging on normal, like there wasn’t some kind of revenge war going on. The closest thing that had been kind of eventful was Hughie’s outburst this morning over breakfast, accusing you and Ben of having sex which kept him up – something that actually didn’t happen between you and Ben even though it was something that you did want to happen last night. Due to his little outburst though, the rest of the day was filled with a consistent flow of jokes (mainly at your best friend’s expense) that seemed to put everyone in a great mood (except Hughie of course). In a way, you did feel bad for him, but at the same time, his outburst this morning was unnecessary.

Your legs were currently in Ben’s lap, one of his arms draped over them as his other hand was lying on the arm of the couch with a remote in hand; the only source of light in the room coming from the television. As Ben flipped through channel after channel, you couldn’t help but stare at him as the shadows on his face changed with every single flip trying to find something to watch. “How is there so many channels and nothing to watch?” He asked, not even looking at you.

You shrugged your shoulders and he turned to face you. “I found plenty of things I’d watch. It’s not my fault you’re picky.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not picky. TV just sucks now.” He began, and you already knew where this conversation was going. It was about to turn into a ‘back in my day’ rant that you had heard practically every single day since you had met him. “Back in my day, TV was actually good.” Before you could interject he continued. “We didn’t have stupid reality shows about people who are famous for nothing.” You couldn’t help but agree with him on that one. “There’s 400 channels and only two of them are watchable.”

“And which channels does the almighty Soldier Boy deem watchable?” You asked, emphasizing the nickname.

“ESPN and TCM.” He answered without hesitation. You simply just rolled your eyes.

“Of course those would be the only two channels.” You mumbled, even though you knew he could hear you; there was no use in mumbling around him. “I love ESPN and TCM too, but there are other channels that are watchable Ben. How about FoodNetwork and HGTV?”

Ben scoffed. “Sometimes they’re watchable.”

“Okay. How about…” You thought for a moment, trying to think of a channel that Ben would possibly enjoy; then it hit you, causing a smirk to form on your face. “How about Skinamax?”

He looked at you with a confused expression. “What the fuck is Skinamax?” You let out a slight laugh, causing him to raise a brow. “What?”

“You don’t know what Skinamax is?” You asked. “Honestly, I’m slightly surprised.” You held out your hand. “Hand me the remote and I’ll show you.”

“Why can’t you just fucking tell me?” He asked, his facial expression annoyed.

“Because Ben, it’d be more fun to show you.” Your lips turned into a smirk. “Don’t you trust me?”

Again, your response earned yet another eyeroll from him. Of course I fucking trust you, he thought. What kind of stupid question is that? “Fine.” He said, handing you the remote.

“Okay, and why couldn’t you of just told me it was just fucking porn?” He asked, his tone sounding a little annoyed with you.

“Because, I thought it would be much more fun to show you.” You turned away from the television and looked at him. “You’ve watched porn before though right? Like, I’m assuming you have cause well…you’re…well you.”

He looked at you briefly before looking back at the screen again. “Have you watched porn before?” He mumbled, mocking your tone. “Of course I fucking have.” He said, a tad louder and a bit more annoyed sounding. He turned back to face you. “Who hasn’t watched porn before?”

You shrugged. “Fair point.” You said. “You know…” you began, as you started inching your way closer to him. “As much as I’d love to continue watching this…interesting movie. There is something I’d much rather be doing.”

He smirked, his full attention on you now. “And what’s that Sweetheart?”

“Well, you did make me a promise this morning.” Your voice was low, your hand inching closer to the hem of his pants.

“I made you a lot of promises this morning.” His voice was low, but not nearly as low as yours.

“But there was one in particular.” Your fingers started slipping into the waistband of his pants as you maintained complete eye contact with him.

“You going to tell me or is it more fun to show me?” He asked, your hand made contact with his cock and you gently wrapped your hand around him. Ben slightly groaned at the contact.

You couldn’t help but smirk. “I think you know the answer.” You whispered.

Without a second to waste, he pulled his sweats down giving you slightly better access as you started moving your hand up and down. You went slow, knowing that it was killing him inside with the pace that you were going at. As he was about to open up his mouth to protest the slow pace, your head went down and you started sucking him off; a slight taste of pre-cum on your tongue. Your hand and mouth started going in tandem with each other; no longer focused on his face, but focusing on what you were doing. “Fuck,” he groaned, and he threw his head back into the couch, enjoying the feeling of your mouth and hands wrapped around him, a feeling that he’d wanted since the moment he laid his eyes on you – despite him knowing how much you hated him at first.

You released him with a pop for a moment; your hand still going. But the loss of your mouth on him caused him to open his eye to look at you. “Ben, you need to be quiet. I don’t want the whole house to hear.” You stated.

Your words gave Ben an idea, and a smirk grew on his face. “Princess, I want them to hear.”

“You…you want them to hear?” Your voice a whisper. “Why?”

“Cause I want your little friend to know what it actually sounds like when the two of us fuck.” His words made you audibly gulp, and you barely even knew how to respond. Weirdly, the thought turned you on.

“Okay.” Your reply hesitant. Despite the slight hesitation, you wrapped your lips around his cock again; your mouth and hand working in tandem again.

As you worked, the sounds that were coming out of Ben’s mouth weren’t remotely quiet; a mixture of groaning and moaning. His hand gripped your hair slightly, pulling at it gently, messing it up. Between him basically playing with your hair as you blew him, and the sounds that he was making; it encouraged you to pick up the pace a little, and you yourself felt yourself starting to get increasingly more wet. “God, your fucking mouth.” He groaned. He bucked up a little, and when he did that he let himself go; releasing himself into your mouth and down your throat. You usually weren’t a swallower but for him, you made the exception.

Once you helped him ride out his orgasm, you released him with a pop; the two of you making eye contact again. “Lay down Princess,” he demanded, “and spread those legs of yours,” he grinned.

“Yes Sir.” You said, probably a little bit too loud.

The nickname you gave him just made him grin even wider, slightly more evil looking. “Can’t wait to wreck this pussy of yours.” He said, completely pulling your shorts down in one swift movement. He eyed your bare pussy for a moment before smirking up at you, cocking a brow. “Went commando today uh?” You bit your bottom lip, nodding. “Sweetheart, if I would have known, I would have fucked you on the kitchen table this morning just to prove a point.”

“Be-” before you could speak, his point finger started to slowly dip inside of you. “Fuck.” You moaned, slightly whispering.

“You’re fucking soaked Princess.” He said, smugness in his voice. “All this just from blowing me uh?” He added a second finger as they both started going into you a bit deeper, a slight curve to them.

“Y-yes.” You moaned out; his two fingers starting to move slowly in and out of you, a similar pace you had done earlier on him.

“So, tell me this Sweetheart. Are you generally just a cock slut, or are you just a slut for my cock?”

The pace of his fingers started to pick up gingerly; no words were forming in your brain to even respond to his question. He was barely doing anything to you, and you were slightly embarrassed by the way your body was reacting to his touch, but at the same time, he actually knew what he was doing – hitting you in all the right spots. “Just…Fuck…Just for yours.”

“Just for mine what?” He added a third finger, curling them inside of you. All you could do was moan; verging on the sound of pornographic. “Need you to use your words Princess. I know how much you like to talk, don’t hold back on me now.”

“Fuck me…” you mumbled, feeling a heat rising in your cheeks. “I’m only a slut for your cock Ben.”

He clicked his tongue a few times, seeming unsatisfied with your answer. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t quite hear you.” The smugness in his voice returned, knowing that he could hear you. You knew what he really meant: your friends couldn’t hear you.

With a small groan, you spoke just a tad louder, hoping it would be loud enough to satisfy him. “I’m only a slut for you cock Ben.”

He grinned. “There it is.” He sounded so proud of himself.

“Ben I’m about to –” you came, not even finishing your sentence, your orgasm practically exploding out of you. Despite the amount of times you’ve had sex, this was the first time you could actually say that you had a mind-blowing orgasm. He continued to move his fingers in and out of you rapidly as you rid out your orgasm.

“Fucking beautiful,” he praised. “I’ll never get fucking tired of seeing a woman cum.”

As soon as you came down from your high, he removed his fingers from you, licking them clean; and you already hated the feeling of not having his fingers inside of you. “Fuck.” You breathed out, your chest rising up and down as you tried catching your breath.

Ben chuckled. “You good there Sweetheart?” He sounded amused.

“Yeah…So…Good…” your voice trailed off.

“Good, cause I’m not done with you just yet.” Before you had the chance to respond, he pulled you by your ankles, sliding you across the couch. Pulling you into his lap, both of your hands rested on his chest, slight heat radiating from it, which strangely felt good against your palms.

Your legs were spread open wide enough that you were able to straddle him; your knees on either side of his thighs resting on the couch. Without any kind of direction from him, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head, tossing it to the side, leaving you completely naked; you felt even more vulnerable somehow than you did before. You leaned in, your hands on either side of his face now and kissed him; his hands automatically gripping your hips. Based on the tightness of the grip you knew you’d have bruises, and honestly – you couldn’t care less, you wanted him to leave marks.

The both of you moaned into the kiss, and you started rocking your hips gently, trying to obtain some kind of friction. He smirked against your lips. “Someone’s a little needy.” He teased. “You just came Sweetheart.”

“Yeah but…” You kissed his neck, and leaned in close to his ear, “that was on your fingers, not on your cock.”

“And you say I have the dirty mouth.” He laughed a little, removing his hands from your hips. You sat back on his thighs as he took one of his hands and wrapped it around himself, pumping it in his hand a few times. “Going to fill that pussy right up.”

“Please.” Your tone slightly begging.

“So cute when you beg.” He said, his tip teasing your entrance. “You ready for me Sweetheart?” You nodded and placed your hands on his shoulders, almost as if you were bracing yourself. As he started pushing himself inside of you, you let out a long moan, shutting your eyes. “Fucking love your moans.” He complicated, as he watched your face slightly contort. “Taking me so well too.” He chuckled. “Really are a cock slut uh?”

“Only for you.” You breathed, his cock almost fully inside of you.

“Damn right only for me.” His voice sounded slightly possessive; and the tone turned you on more than you thought it would, and he felt you clench around him. “You like that uh?” You nodded in response. “Good.”

As you started moving your hips, Ben started placing kisses between your breasts, every so often taking one of your nipples into his mouth. The noises you were making were pornographic sounding again; no words really escaping your lips, just moans. Your hand gripped the back of his head, clutching at his hair. “Ben,” you moaned, shutting your eyes as you continued to rock your hips.

He attached his lips to your neck now, slightly nipping and sucking on the skin. Not only were there going to be marks on your hips, there were going to be marks on your neck now too. “Mine,” you heard him mumble; but you weren’t entirely sure if you heard him properly.

You opened your eyes and looked at him, and he removed his lips from your neck. “You heard me,” his voice possessive again. “You’re mine now.” He said. You weren’t sure if this was bedroom talk or he actually did mean that you were his, and his alone. Either way, you loved the sound of being his – despite the slight alpha/misogynistic undertone to it.

“All yours.” You agreed. He took two of his fingers and started rubbing your clit, trying to get you closer and closer to the edge. You felt the pressure start to build, and you were insanely close to coming again. “I’m so close.”

“Can’t wait to cum inside of you Princess.” His fingers started picking up the pace, and his hip movements were starting to get erratic – he was close too.

“Fuck.” You mumbled, your own movements matching his erratic ones. “I’m about to –” as you started to cum, his lips latched onto yours, and you moaned into his mouth.

“I’m right there with you.” He said, coming closely after you. The kiss deepened as the two of you rid out your orgasms; his fingers working lazily on your clit.

“Holy shit.” You said, essentially collapsing onto him. Your forehead rested on his shoulder as your chests were pressed up against each other; his arms wrapped around your lower back, his clock still buried inside of you.

“You alright there Sweetheart?” He asked, kissing the top of your head.

“Yeah just…” you started breathing a little heavy again. “Don’t have your stamina.” You laughed a little. “I’ll be okay.”

“Good. Cause I can’t have you dyin’ on me.” His tone was joking, but you knew that he would be devastated if anything were to ever happen to you. Because over the course of time he had known you, he had grown to deeply care about you; and it was something that surprised the both of you – hell, it even surprised the rest of the group.

"What the fuck!" You and Ben both turned and saw Hughie standing in the doorway of the living room; his facial expression looked as though he was about to blow a gasket.

Ben rolled his eyes out of annoyance. "Do you mind?" You gently lifted yourself off of him, grabbing a nearby blanket and quickly covered yourself and Ben, although the damage was probably already done.

"Yes! Matter of fact I do mind! This is the second night in a row that I woke up because of the two of you!" He yelled; and you could of sworn you saw a vain bulging from his neck. He was pissed.

Ben laughed, amused by Hughie's reaction. "Now you know what it actually sounds like when the two of us fuck. Should of kept your mouth shut this morning kid." He grinned, and gave him a wink.

"Seriously? You guys were loud because of what I said this morning?" Hughie's voice was now annoyed. Ben simply just shrugged at his question. "You are such an asshole."

Ben shrugged again. "Worse has been said."

“Hughie I –” you began, but Ben cut you off.

"But, I can promise you this," he got up from the couch, pulling up his pants in the process as he made his way toward Hughie. He placed a hand on his shoulder, looking him directly in the eyes, grinning. "You better get used to not fucking sleeping cause your friend has one hell of a pussy and mouth on her." You didn't need to see his face to know the absolute pleasure he had saying that to your best friend.

Tag List: @jackles010378 @syrma-sensei @k-slla @zombie-freak If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys #the boys imagine #the boys one shot #ben x reader #ben x you #the boys amazon #reader insert #female reader

[barbiesmuse]

ᡣ𐭩 DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָsimon riley + fem!reader

summary: in which simon riley decides to message you after a year of no contact!

tags: angst, romance-ish, talk of abusive parents, simon's an asshole, slight age gap (27 - 30!), cursing, very slight body image issues, simon is a wreck, not proofread oopsie! talia talks: this is my first post!! this account is inspired by @audisive, much love to this blog! if this does well a part two will be out soon!

One year. Today officially marks one year since Simon left without any warning. He didn't even leave a note. You were a wreck. No one was able to get in contact with you for a month. Simon was your first everything. You questioned yourself over and over. You often find yourself looking in the mirror. You studied your appearance in the mirror. Was it the way you looked? Was it your age?

It took almost two months for you to even begin working again. It wasn't as if Simon was your world, but he was a very important part of it. After you got yourself back on your feet life was beginning to get better. You moved to a new city, got a new job, found new friends, and left your old self behind. A change of pass, at least that's what you wanted. 

No matter how much you wanted to forget the day he left you couldn't. He was always there in the back of your mind. The sound of his voice replaying over and over again. You would catch yourself staring into space, thinking of what life would be like if he was here now. How would he touch you? Simon left a large wound, and you felt as if it wouldn't heal anytime soon. You wondered if would you be engaged or married. Simon left like you were nothing to him, but it was quite the opposite.

Leaving you was the hardest thing Simon had ever done. Simon wasn't one for crying, he despised it. Yet as he took one last look at your once-shared home he felt a singular tear slip down his cheek. The salty liquid traced the curve of his face and slipped into his mouth. The taste of his tears brought him back to himself. Crying? Pathetic.

Simon Riley grew up in a rough house. His father was either absent or drunk. His mother died when Simon was young. He grew up hardened by abuse and war, but when he saw you it all went away. You were the light of his life. He often got lost in the darkness, thoughts of trauma and PTSD clouding his thoughts. You, you were the one thing that stopped him from destroying himself. Now that he didn't have you, he told himself he had nothing to lose.

Simon had stopped going to work, he had stopped eating, and he had stopped speaking. It was as if he wasn't living anymore, like his heart stopped. Simon was staying with his godmother, she was the only constant thing in his life now. He stayed in his room, only coming out once a week to eat. His godmother, Delena worried about him. She had known Simon since he was a child. She watched him grow up, and this was not like him.

Today was the day that marked a year, and you and Simon were both a mess. You wanted nothing more than a warm embrace from Simon. You imagine the creaking in the floorboards was his large boots trudging up the stairs. You imagined he had just come back from deployment, you would smile as he walked into your once-shared room. The sound of your phone “ding!” brought you out of your daydream.

Simon.

As Delena knocked softly on Simon's door she heard the sound of Simon's heavy breathing. Delena didn't wait for confirmation to walk in. She found Simon on his bathroom floor. A bottle of Disaronno lay by his side. His phone was cracked and his balaclava was nowhere to be found. His eyes were red, his lips were chapped, and his hands were shaking. He looked up at Delena with tired glossy eyes. He stayed away for a reason, he was going to ruin you. He wasn't healthy, no part of him was healthy. He was toxic, the only good part about him was you. But he didn't have you anymore.

Simon looked at Delena as she sat down next to him, her back sliding against the wall until she hit the ground. She chuckles softly and his lips curl into a tight grin. “I texted her,” Simon says, he picks up his cracked phone and shows it to his godmother. She gives him a sympathetic look and rubs his back. She knew that you were going to text back. She wished deep down you wouldn't. He had left you, who's to say he won't do it again? But she could never say that to her godson. 

“Well, that was very brave of you, Si.” The older woman says. Her hair was a gorgeous silver color. Her nails were painted a dark red. Simon liked the way she carried herself, with class and elegance. Simon, on the other hand, was a mess. She sighed as she realized there was a slight chance he might never get better. Delena wasn't sure if she was okay with that. She was getting too old.

Your breath hitched as you read the text. Simon had texted you? Why? You didn't want to respond, you hated him. He left you, he never called or texted. Not even a letter, so why should you respond to his text? Yet as you open the message, your heart drops.

Simon. I miss you, love.

talia talks: this was fun to write!! part two will be on it's way soon! xoxo!

#° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐘’𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒! #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod #cod smut #tf141 #task force 141 #simon riley x younger!reader #call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #ghost call of duty #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x you angst #simon riley x you smut #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x reader angst #simon riley x reader smut #simon ghost riley angst #simon ghost riley smut #writers on tumblr #sunshine!reader #cod links #barbie #ghost

[readychilledwine]

Hellos. Could do something where the reader is azriel mate and they are kidnapped. She sacrifices her wings to save his life. And mention how az is angry that it happened and whatever u think will look good. Thank you.

👀👀👀👀 I, uh, may have a thing for shattering my own heart only to pick up the pieces. So yes. Yes, I can. Hopefully, you enjoy it, and I did it justice, dearest!

Beauty in Pain

Azriel x Illyrian reader

Warnings - not over descriptive mentions of torture and dismemberment, Azriel goes feral, depression, the usual unedited by an outside source.

Word count -2030

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

You were better trained than this. 

That reminder was echoing inside your mind like a war drum, beating senselessly into your thoughts as you were dragged down the barely lit pathway under the temple. You knew no one was coming. Faebane had blocked the mating bond, blocked your ability to call Rhys or Feyre. You'd be lucky if they found you, alive or dead.

It had started a routine mission. Head to the war camps, ask the leader for reports, speak with the females, head home to your mate.

Your mate. The one you prayed had felt the bond grow cold despite the many promises to never shut each other out. The one who'd slaughter every single male involved in this when he found out where you were, who had you, and what they planned to do or will have done.

You didn't fight as they laid you face down on the concrete block in the room. They had planned this, planned how long to keep you on a specific dose of faebane, no food, and no water. Planned the beatings used to weaken you on a cycle. You felt it and flinched as two sets of hands roughly grabbed your left wing. 

You were prepared to be clipped as a form of torture for the information they wanted. You knew it was coming. But as blinding pain left you with no choice but to scream out for your mate, for your brother, for Rhysand, you knew the plan was worse than you had imagined.

But you did not yield. You bared the pain, allowing it to try and break you until the world grew cold and dark.

—-----------

Azriel was pacing Rhysand's office. He had not slept in the 7 long days you had been overdue for, at the very least, a check in, after the missive Rhys and Cassian had received.

They have not started training the females. I will be home or rewrite soon. I promise. The three Illyrian males had trusted you to handle it. They had trusted you would be safe, unharmed, respected. 

And despite every alarm ringing in his heart, mind, and soul, Azriel had not gone to you right away. 

Rhysand's eyes glazed over, his face dropping slowly as he received whatever message he was receiving. He came back to them slowly, moving without speaking as he started grabbing weapons and tossing them to Azriel and Cassian. 

The High Lord's voice was dealthy calm as he finally spoke. "A set of wings, freshly removed, was just found outside of my mother's cabin. There's no signs of (y/n) anywhere in any of the camps the twins searched. The only thing reported to them was in the northernmost camp."

Rhysand breathed deeply. "A female was carried through the camp, unconscious with her head and body covered. That same night the camp heard screams from midnight until early into the morning."

Cassian's breath caught in his throat before he immediately grabbed Rhysand's arm. "Take me there, now." 

"How long ago," Azriel's voice had gone cold and detached. "How long ago did that happen? How long has she been sitting Mother knows where with untreated wounds or dead?"

Rhysand refused to look at Azriel, reaching to grab his brother's hand, before finally whispering. "4 days."

—------------

The rescue had turned into a bloodbath. There was zero question as a panicked shadows all but dragged the three of them to an abandoned temple.

It reeked of her blood, her sweat, her tears. 

It held an almost haunting aura as if the terror and pain of her screams had scarred the ancient stone, marking it to forever echo her agony to anyone walking inside.

Azriel didn't want to ask questions. He didn't want prisoners. He wanted payment in blood. 

He had cut through every single male that appeared in their path before Rhysand and Cassian even had a chance to interfere on his way to the dungeons his shadows were pleading with him to get to quickly. 

And now one last male stood between him and the cell she laid unconscious in. "Move or be moved," Rhysand told him coolly. "I would not push your luck." 

The male stared at a blood soaked Azriel. His shadows were curling over his shoulders like snakes waiting to strike. His wings flared wide in dominance and anger. His 7 siphons glowing. 

The young male moved, allowing Rhysand to grab him and winnow him away to the Prison before Azriel could beat him to death as well. Cassian moved quickly to the door, opening it with the key they had found, before entering the small cell containing his sister.

The anguished sob that left Cassian was the only confirmation Azriel needed. "Y/n," he heard Cassian tapping your body. "Come on, sis. Wake up."

Dying. Azriel's shadows confirmed. Infections. We cannot safely winnow her. Rhys is bringing a healing team. Need more space. 

Azriel moved into the cell, holding the scream in his throat as he was overwhelmed with the urge to run to you. Cassian had you cradled into his chest, rocking you back and forth before looking up at Azriel, eyes rimmed with tears. "We need to get her somewhere that Madja can use to work on her. Rhys is bringing her and a team of healers here." Azriel held his arms out, a silent demand in the movement. 

Cassian only nodded. Standing and carefully transferring your beaten and bleeding body into Azriel's arms, following him out of the room.

—---------------

3 long weeks of silence had passed in the House of Wind. 

No one had gone to Azriel's room.

No one had spoken to him without the male lashing out.

There was nothing they could do to comfort him but allow him to be with you.

When you first got home, while you were lying unconscious with Madja, Helion, and Lucien looking after you, Rhys had managed to get out of the male Azriel allowed to live one very simple thing. 

You let them torture you, let them completely take your wings, to force you to look into death's eyes, and you had allowed them to do it to protect Azriel. You had refused to give them his schedule to visit the camps. You refused to tell them when he'd be there alone again. You refused to tell them which pathway he flew in using or where he'd shadow-walk himself to first.

You had lost your wings to protect him. Your husband, your mate.

Azriel had lost it then, guilt eating away at him, and began beating the male to death with his bare fists as Cassian and Rhysand just watched. They knew what was echoing in his mind. She will live, Madja had said, but she will never be the same. Her wings can't be reattached or saved, no one has the ability to give her back what was taken.

You hadn't spoken to Azriel, Rhys, or Cassian when you finally woke up. You only sat in your window, staring at the sky. 

The one you'd never feel going through your hair again. The one you'd never touch again. The one you'd never taste again.

It was funny, you thought to yourself, to have been protected and trained to ensure this never happened, only for the moment it did to come 500 long years later. 

It had been a full week later when Azriel cornered you in the shower and just held your naked body for you two to speak. Another week passed before you allowed him to kiss you and hold you without him having to force the contact. You had yet to show interest in leaving the bedroom the two of you shared. 

You felt familiar scarred hands on your bare shoulders, wrapping around to your collarbones before running up the front of your neck and tilting your head back. "Dinner alone tonight or dinner with our family?" His voice was scratched from the crying you two had been doing. His eyes were swollen and red. "I already know the answer, I just need to verbally hear it."

"I wish to be alone." He nodded. Taking the cue and leaving you to your window as he sat back on the couch, head falling into his hands, as he began to cry again.

You watched his shoulders shaking, listened to his almost silenced sniffling. You knew things had forever changed in your relationship. 

There would be no more missions for you.

No more trips with Amren away from him.

No more walking Velaris alone.

There would be no more date nights spent flying.

No more jumping from high places together, allowing yourselves to fall until the last possible second, only to spread those precious wings.

There'd be no more wing play late into the early mornings, edging each other with small touches in certain places until you were both begging for relief.

But you knew deep down, more than anything, there would be a new Azriel. One that would have one more thing to hold against himself. One that would have one more moment of his life to look back on and use as an argument for how he wasn't enough.

And you couldn't have that. You would not stand for it.

You couldn't have the broken male you had spent time healing with, growing with, and struggling with. You could not have the one who blamed himself for every little thing again.

You stood on slightly unstable feet, and walked to your closet, a shadow trailing you. Rhys had immediately replaced your clothing, ensuring you would not have to go through ordering it yourself, and had the twins place the new materials into your closet. A simple black dress was what you picked. It would stop right above your knees, hug your torso beautifully. You closed the closet door, calling for Rhys silently in your mind and jumping as his hands appeared behind you. "I need help." You whispered. 

His eyes searched yours before nodding and helping you change into the dress. Allowing you to use him to balance. A kiss was placed on the back of your head as he laced it up. Gentle, but full of emotion. And he winnowed away. 

You left the closet, walking to Azriel on the couch slowly with a pair of his trousers and a black button-up shirt in hand. "I changed my mind. I'm craving that cake, the almond one with the vanilla frosting."

Azriel scoffed lightly. "I am not leaving you to go get cake. I will ask Rhysand-"

"I need you to fly me there, Az. I want to go get the cake, eat it at the Cafe with coffee, and then I want you to take me for a walk on the Sindra. And maybe go to that book store. The used book one."

He was silent before looking at you. His hazel eyes were full of question. "Y/n-"

"If my mate will not take me, I will ask my brother. I want cake, and I want my husband to take me to get it."

"I don't think you understand how heartbreaking not being able to truly fly is going to be, my heart."

You only repeated yourself, voice smaller this time. "If my mate will not take me, I will ask my brother. I want cake." You paused, eyes welling with tears. "I deserve cake and coffee. If I want cake and coffee for dinner, I expect my mate, the male who married me and bound himself to me, to take me."

Azriel nodded. Grabbing the clothing from you and he changed in silence. He stood on the balcony waiting as you took calming breaths and walked outside for the first time in many weeks.

"I am not responsible for the setback in your mental health after this." 

"No, but you are monetarily responsible for my cake and purchases. Let's go." He took you in his arms, holding you close to his chest and took off hard. 

And in that moment, you both knew something new had begun. You were laughing as he concentrated way more than usual to fly. You were smiling at how this allowed you to feel his body heat, to hear his heartbeat, to touch his face. 

You were laughing at how he began genuinely laughing at you. Not understanding where the sudden joy filling the bond and over flowing it like a faucet set to run for too long came from.

It wasn't until he paused in the sky, hovering so he could look down at your smiling face did you both realize something.

Losing your wings was just the beginning. 

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel fic #azriel x illyrian!reader