#considering they can eat mountains of food and go days without it

[forthetaintedsorrow-whump]

As someone who climbed Mt Fuji last year and considered myself relatively fit - certainly fit enough for regular day hikes on regular hiking trails, ran a couple times a week (1-2 miles each time), hit the gym weekly - Mt Fuji killed me, metaphorically speaking, for 3 days afterward.

Climbed Wednesday.

Took Thursday off as per plan. Legs ached quite a lot, knees were fine though because I used hiking sticks.

Was hungry almost constantly Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. I'd wake up in the middle of the night ravenous and had to eat before going back to sleep. I did the dumb American thing and ordered a pizza to eat over a few days, because i didn't want to cook. Filling, right?

Hell no. Saturday, still persistently hungry, finally researched and found out I had 'hiker's hunger.' Never heard of it. It's a persistent hunger that hits when your body has just been through a long exertion (like many day hikes without full meals, or climbing a fucking mountain). And it can last MONTHS. To get rid of it, you have to eat properly filling foods like rice and fish and such. So I stopped my pizza intake, and properly cooked some meals. Finally gone by Sunday.

Just as an anecdote of the relatively mild version of effects that your whumpee can experience after a long grueling escape.

Also, almost 1 year later, I have this strange darker mark on my calf, that seemed to appear after I finished the hike, where the gaiters were rubbing into me for like 7 hrs. Still there. So there's that 😂

whump details: travel on foot

so your whumpee has escaped their whumper. What now? Maybe they've been rescued by friends, or are lucky enough to have access to a vehicle or other transport system. If not... They're on their own. Likely on foot. And if they're going any sort of distance, there's going to be consequences on top of everything else.

Things that will slow a character down:

- existing injuries

- poor footwear

- adrenaline crash

- moving for more than an hour without food or water (or less if they're already malnourished)

- weather

Injuries your character may develop that complicate things:

- wear and tear to joints; hips, knees, and ankles

- blisters. A seemingly minor part of life but they will make walking hell for at least a few days

- overuse injuries for legs (and back or shoulders if they're carrying any supplies)

- possible dislocations in the leg joints, especially if they have prior weakness/injury

- old wounds becoming aggravated/complicating their movement

Recovery after the initial escape:

- a very fit character could cover 20+ miles relatively quickly. (Think marathon runners.) But even if your escaping living weapon or soldier can put out that much effort for the initial burst, they'll likely be incapacitated to some degree afterwards. If they aren't able to consume calories/drink water during this, they will crash HARD. Perfect time to have them collapse just outside a remote farmstead or cabin :)

- rest, food, and water are the most important things for recovery. If they collapse without any replenishing, they'll be practically bedridden by the time they wake up. Maybe they have to keep pushing because there's no other choice, but they will be worse for the wear

- a character used to travelling long distances will recover quickly with the proper tools. A character who isn't is going to be feeling the effects of their escape for weeks afterwards, if not months. They may struggle to walk for several days afterwards, and might come out the other side with long term injuries ---maybe even permanent ones

[i-am-a-meat-popcicle]

Honestly the only thing Hanneman had to say to me was "Lore" and suddenly I was all over that old man.

[kikiutau]

RYOMEN SUKUNA: How to Get With Your Boss 8 Days Before New Years

CEO!Ryomen Sukuna x Reader Synopsis You're a chronic overtimer at work and a chronic virgin at home. On night of Christmas Eve, you have the lucky unfortunate pleasure of stumbling across a huge fight between your hot boss and his wife. Safe to say their relationship is over. But as fate (and your ever-reliable right hand man, the elevator) would have it, being in the right place at the right time might just lead to a New Year’s resolution you've been yearning for for years: the overdue expiration of your v-card. Genre Modern au, Office Romance, 18+, Smut, Fluff  Content/TW fem! reader, cheating, unprotected sex, voyeurism, things going up into cooch that shouldn’t be in the coochie in the first place, virgin! reader, thigh fucking, food play, rough sex, slight misogyny, degradation, dirty talk, dumbification, humiliation, ooc sukuna because this is an au without trauma (we I stan), spanking, unprotected sex, manhandling, cum eating, squirting, pissing, age gap Word Count 17.4k

Author’s Note: Happy New Years guys! Consider this my gift to you all for the new year! I hope you all enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it Divider by @/cafekitsune Series Masterlist

Tuesday, December 24

Christmas Eve

Fuck. Rubbing your swollen eyes, you glared at the circled number on the calendar. A few more days until New Years. And more specifically, 8 more grueling days of a lonely holiday season. A tired groan escaped past your lips. 

Feeling the growing tension in your back from being hunched over for hours on end, you leaned back on your chair hoping to release the pressure. Disregarding the mountain of paperwork on your desk, you haphazardly moved them aside to reach for your cell phone. 

“Ah!” The universe seemingly out to get you, the screen brightness blinds you for a moment. 

You heard a slight thud, signaling to you that the phone you dropped ended up on the floor. Still recovering from eye assault, you don’t grab it right away. Through slight squints, you glanced down at your fallen device. 

12:01 

Wednesday, December 25

Christmas Day 

You let out a quiet “yay.” If there’s one date you were looking forward to, it would be this one. It’s a well-deserved and long awaited break for a distressed and tired office worker like yourself. Working overtime frequently is starting to take a toll on your mental and physical well being— if it hasn't already. 

Acknowledging the time, you tell yourself that now would be a good time to start packing up and heading back home. You quickly put on your coat and grabbed your bag, leaving the heaps of files, binders, and loose papers on the desk as a fuck you, capitalism! You don’t get paid enough to care anyways. On a more important note, your sweet, soft bed is beckoning for your arrival.  

Right as you headed out of the building, you dug through your bag looking for your phone. “Where,” you dug further, “is it?!” 

A frown graced your lips. ‘I… left it in the office, didn’t I?’ you thought to yourself. ‘What an idiot.’

Begrudgingly, you picked your foot off from the ground, and started to slowly make your way back to the Gates of Hell, disguised as those intimidating, tall, glass doors you see more often than the doors of your own home. 

As you walk through the lobby, only the clicks of your heels against the cold marble floors can be heard. The lack of human presence sends a small shiver down your spine. During normal working hours, the lobby is usually filled with the sounds of similarly disgruntled employees complaining to their fellow co-workers. 

But now, the only thing gracing the place was you. Even the janitors and security are nowhere to be seen. Well, it makes sense considering the time. You were the anomaly here. Only a masochist gets off of work at 12AM when everyone else who works the normal 9 to 5 gets off of work at 4:59. 

Well no, you wouldn’t say you're a masochist. You don’t get off to pain. But you were a perfectionist. And you had a tendency to care almost too much about how your co-workers perceived you. So if it meant getting off of work late, you didn’t mind as long as you can get all your tasks done in a timely manner. Besides, you didn’t have anyone to go home to. So why not just stay at work where the heaps of paperwork can accompany you instead.

All your coworkers were sane enough to head home the moment the clock strikes at 5. They’ll stay an hour more if they have to. And for those working overtime, the latest they’ll stay is 8. But, they’ll all shuffle out by the time the sun fully sets, leaving you all alone at your desk. 

Honestly, the only other workaholic besides you would be your boss. Your mind lingers at the thought of his muscular frame, pink slicked back hair, tattoos, and the very apparent large bulge—

Hold on. Stop. He’s your boss. 

And isn’t he a married man? 

You chastise yourself. 

Once you stepped in, your hand instinctively reached for the button with a clear “48” inscribed besides it. Standing in the well-lit elevator, you waited for the doors to close. 

One second passes. Two seconds passed. Then three seconds. Four Mississippi. Five Mississippi. Six Mississippi. Seven— 

“Oh come on!” you rolled your eyes. Tapping your foot, you reached for the button to close the doors and started spamming it like you would when it comes to pressing the attack button on Genshin. “If you don’t close this second, then I’m going to pluck out your buttons and cut your walls with my box cutter!”

The moment that threat left your mouth, the elevator doors closed with a small ding. Ah, even the elevator knew better than to incur the wrath of a stressed out office worker. 

You watched the small panel in front of you change numbers in chronological order second by second. 

1

2

3

4

…

Is it just you or is the elevator slower than usual? 

After what seems to be a long time, you arrived on your floor. Coming to a full stop almost aggressively, the elevator shakes momentarily giving you a heart attack before opening its doors in a slow manner.  

Clenching onto your chest, you make your way out of the wretched box of metal, holding a middle finger up towards the horrid man made product. 

The elevator closes its doors with a ding as if it were responding to your obscene hand gesture. 

You quickly made your way to your usual area, bending down on your knees to grab your missing phone. 

A new message!

You opened the message app to see who texted you. 

Friend

Heyyyyyy girlie! So 😏There’s this guy at my workplace. 

Single. And he doesn’t look half bad. 

And you’re single and mingling. 

Sooooo I was wonderinggggg

If I could set you guys up?  

Y/N

.-.

Uhhhhhh

You typed out “sure.” Although, you contemplated hitting Send. Too distracted with your thoughts, you failed to hear the ding in the background as well as the angry clicks of heels marching past you. 

“YOU ASSHOLE!” 

The sudden scream caused you to flinch. What the hell? 

A male voice interjected. “If I’m such an asshole, sign the goddamn papers.” 

Oh, you recognized that voice. And you hoped you were fucking wrong. 

Curiosity got the best of you and from your position, you slowly peaked up from underneath your desk, to check if you're wrong. God you hope you were. 

Nope. Congratulations! You win a front row seat to watch this couple dispute— against your own will!

At the other end of the room stood your boss in all his glory; his hair was disheveled and the buttons of his dress shirt were unraveled, revealing a window of opportunity for you to see his well defined pecs. Furrowed brows and an annoyed frown decorated his tattooed face. In front of him, there was a woman dressed in a bodycon type dress, hugging all the right curves, revealing her hourglass figure. Although her face was turned away, you could probably guess that her expression was one far from happiness. 

Ok, now you are sure the universe has a personal vendetta against you. First the phone, then the elevator, now this. Not wanting to get caught by any means, you quietly stayed underneath your desk, waiting for the opportunity to leave once the bickering couple finishes their quarreling. 

“You know… None of this would happen if you would just…” the woman’s voice cracked. “Sukuna… You’re so cold-hearted. This wasn’t the marriage I wanted for us.” 

Sukuna scoffed, starting to feel an onset of a headache. He glared at her momentarily, taking a second to decide whether to rip her to shreds with his words or to let the matter go gracefully. If anything, he wanted to be home right this second—not arguing with his wife at his workplace in the middle of the night. Yet, he decided on the former. He spat out, “At least I didn’t cheat.” 

“At least he loves me! With him, I know what love feels like. Unlike you!” his wife exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger towards the man. 

One of Sukuna’s eyebrows quirks up. “Loves you?” He takes a few steps towards the woman. “He has a wife and two children, Silvia. If he loves you, then why hasn’t he left them for you.” 

The tears Silvia tried to hold in the whole time finally spilled down her cheeks. She couldn’t give him an answer because deep down, she knew her husband’s words were true. His words washed over her like someone threw a bucket of ice water to her head. 

Looking up at her husband, she crashed her lips into his. She could no longer bear the ice cold feeling that had enveloped her heart. But at the very least, she could comfort herself with the warm body of the man she currently abhors. 

Unexpectedly, Sukuna did not push her away. Their lips remained interlaced as he pushed her down onto one of the desks, leaving scattered papers on the ground. Your heart sobs for the poor unsuspecting owner of that very desk. 

Sukuna impatiently tore her dress off as she clumsily worked on the rest of the buttons of his dress shirt. A needy whine escaped her throat when he ripped her panties off. “T-those were expensive,” she mumbled. 

In response, he spun her around onto her stomach, forcefully bending her top-half down until she felt her pebbled nipples against the cold, hard desk. He spanked her left ass cheek, chuckling at the slight bounce. Another smack. And another. 

Much to Silvia’s displeasure, she couldn’t hold in her unabashed moans. Even if Sukuna’s indifference towards her made him absolutely terrible at daily affection, she had to admit: This man is a literal sex God. Not once has she left the bed unsatisfied. 

Silvia wiggled her hips, trying to get away from her husband’s abusive onslaught. In which Sukuna responded with a spank on her bare pussy. “You know,” he bent down to her ear, “I should really punish you for being such a disobedient little slut, whoring yourself out like that.” 

Seems like the man relishes in degrading both his employees and his wife.

“Please,” she begged. She pushed her ass towards Sukuna’s bulge, tempting him to punish him even more by rubbing against him. 

Now that’s a real masochist right there. Your thoughts come to a full pause when you hear Silvia moan, “Oooh FUCK!”

Sukuna, not one to respond well to taunts, pinches her clit. Happy with her reaction, he gives her slight reprieve, massaging the sensitive area with his thumb. She jerked at the sensation, her body trembling against his. 

A laugh echoes within the room. “I can’t believe you’re getting off on this,” Sukuna mocks. He toys with the wetness on his fingers, tapping his pointer and thumb together, watching the way the wet strands stretch every time he pulls them apart. “This is supposed to be a punishment. And you still find pleasure in this?” 

Spank. 

“I must have trained you really well, haven’t I? I hope Mr. Nakamura enjoyed my cum dump while it lasted.” Silvia whimpered in response. 

Spank. 

Sukuna’s eyes glared at her reddened ass. “Speak.” 

“Y-yes!” 

Sukuna let out a little hum, circling around Silvia’s poor, abused clit. Tears—whether it was because of pleasure or pain—dripped down her cheeks. “I’m sorry!” she cried. “I–” 

“But even your lover wasn’t enough for you, huh? Here you are, desperate running back to me like a cockdrunk slut,” the tattooed man mocked. “This is a little pathetic, even for you.” 

No longer able to deal with the edging, Silvia disregarded his insults, letting go of whatever pride she had left as she pleaded her husband for more. She turned head back towards Sukuna, panting for just something, looking at him with glazed eyes. 

Sukuna huffed, stopping his ministrations. He examined her face; her skin was unblemished with hues of blush red, decorating the area around her eyes, nose, and lips. Her lips were slightly swollen as were her eyes. But even then, it did not take away from her apparent beauty. 

He married her two years ago. Not out of love but rather out of obligation. In spite of his appearance adorned with numerous tattoos, Sukuna was quite conservative when it came to relationships. The old fucks at those board meetings suggested—no, pressured— the then, 29 year old man to get married as fast as possible. Tired of their constant prodding and pushing, he ended up marrying one of the girls that was introduced by one of the board members he was on good terms with: Silvia. 

Sukuna was a person who held great belief in his morals. He found cheaters lousy. And he found those who criticized cheaters but then proceeded to cheat even lousier. If there’s one thing he hates in the world, it’s hypocrites. And he was not about to become one himself. Perhaps it was due to such morals that he remained a faithful husband even if he never felt an ounce of love for this woman— any woman. 

Lust, sure. But love? Love was something so vulnerable, so unpredictable. He lived with Silvia and slept beside her for all those years. Not once did Sukuna’s heart waver in the slightest. At most, he could admit that the relationship was comfortable. Silvia was a good wife during their time together. So, at the very least, he treated their marriage as a duty and gave her the utmost respect. 

Right. Respect. That’s why he was so angry at his wife who he did not love. She disrespected him. Thinking about it, Sukuna could feel his suppressed rage beginning to simmer. And looking at his Silvia’s horny expression, it gave him enough of a will not to submit to her pleas so easily. 

Reaching towards the pocket of his suit jacket, he pulls out his beloved Caran d'Ache Léman fountain pen. He pressed the cool metal towards her slit, causing her to flinch. Slowly, he inserts the rounded point of the pen into her wet cavern. 

“Sukuna!” Silvia pouted, unhappy with her current position. Licking his lips, Sukuna rolled his eyes at his wife. 

Leaning down towards her, he smirked. “I’m so sorry sweetheart,” he sarcastically replied. “I thought you wanted more. Was I mistaken?” Feeling his wounded pride swell with glee, he continued moving the pen in and out in slow motions. 

“I– This wasn’t what I meant!” she stammered. 

Spank. 

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed. “Manners.” 

Silvia groaned, burying her face into her arms. Picking her head back up for one last ditch effort, she pleaded once more. “Please please plea– FUCK! Pleaseeee, can you fuck me? I- I can’t get off.” 

Sukuna shrugged, a playful smirk gracing his lips once more. “I don’t need to fuck you for you to get off. You sure found other alternatives during our time apart, didn’t you? I’m certain Mr. Nakamura’s cock was smaller than this pen. And yet you went back to him, again and again. So…” 

Heart pounding, Silvia shook her head needlessly. She wanted to refute him but with how overstimulated she felt, she could not even muster a single coherent thought. Sukuna continued on with his ministrations, moving the pen further into her in a downwards motion. “I’m pretty sure you can get off to this.” 

Feeling the slight nudge of the pen towards her g-spot, Silvia unwillingly slips into pure bliss. Blood rushed to her head as she was brought to pure ecstasy. Sukuna sounded out her moans, purely focusing on her pussy fluttering witlessly around his fountain pen. Consumed by momentary pettiness, he slipped his pen out of her, refusing to fuck her through her orgasm. However, he waited for her to catch her breath.

Silvia went limp after the shockwaves of her orgasm had subsided. Using the strength that’s left in her arms, she shakily turned around towards her husband. There, he stood with the same indifferent expression she despised. She reached out to him, hoping to continue. Much to her dismay, he stopped her, holding onto her wrists. Before she could even say anything, he placed the christened pen into her hands. 

“My lawyer will come to your residency tomorrow. Make sure to sign the divorce papers by then,” he stated, showing his soon to be ex-wife the same poker face he’d show to his company’s board members. 

Almost robotically, Sukuna made his way towards the elevators. Luckily for him, he didn’t have to wait for it to come as it was already on the floor. If this elevator was sentient, then at this moment, it recognized that this man was the very man that could scrap it from its existence in just one word. Feeling scared—if it could even feel—the elevator quickly opened and shut its door at an unbeatable speed to prevent incurring Sukuna’s wrath. 

A few minutes later, Silvia followed suit. Finally alone, you crawled out from your hiding spot. Your brain short circuited for a while, slowly trying to wrap your head around what happened. When it did…

“What the fuck.” Your mouth fell wide open. “What the fuck.” You put both your hands on your head. “What the fuck.” You paced around in a circle. “What the fuck.” Your head whipped towards the desk the two lovers were previously copulating on. Underneath, you see the sheets of paper haphazardly decorating the floor. In the corner of your eye, you could also spot the lacy black panties Sukuna’s wife left on top of said papers. 

Oh. Hell. No. 

So that WASN’T a hallucination? An audible groan echoed throughout the office floor. At this point, there was no doubt about it: The universe wants to murder you. 

You gave a silent apology towards the elevator who was trying to save your sanity earlier. Unfortunately, you were too stubborn to recognize its efforts. Looking back down at the device that has caused you misfortune, you swiped upwards reaching the home screen. After experiencing your boss' intimate moments with his wife against your will, you suddenly lost the will to continue living, muchless go on a double date. In fact, you don’t feel like going anywhere at all with the amount of bad luck you have at the moment. 

Y/N

.-.

Uhhhhhh

Sureygyciwbcuibiwcleboi

Friend 

Great! 

I confirmed with the guy. 

Is the 26th okay for you? 

Well, crap. Did you incur the wrath of some God out there? You must have mistakenly sent the text message while you were struggling to crawl to the dark ends of your desk. Giving up on your current situation, you decided to submit to whatever fate has decided for you. You quickly sent a “ok” before moving on to clean up the stacks of documents on your desk since you were already back where you started. 

Finishing up, you proceeded to put on your coat, preparing to leave. In the corner of your eye, however, you were once again reminded of the intimate scene. Your chest stirred with an uncomfortable feeling. If the employees came back to work days later with papers on the ground AND a pair of black panties, these nosy folks will surely start talking. 

Feeling a sense of pity for the about-to-be-divorced man, you feel your humanity telling you to help Sukuna out. As stern as he was, he was a fair and competent employer who treated his employees well (as long as you didn't get on his bad side). Besides, everyone has days where life simply falls to shit. Sukuna’s just happens to be on Christmas Day (and so is yours). 

Grumbling, you open one of the pull-out cabinets below your desk to grab tissues and disposable chopsticks. You then slowly made your way towards the hazard zone. Quickly, you clipped the panties with the chopsticks, throwing it in a nearby garbage bin. As for the papers, you quickly shuffled it into one pile, not caring if they were out of order. For the unfortunate pieces of papers that were tainted with what’s possibly Silvia’s bodily fluids, you threw those out. You assumed your coworkers would much rather face the problem of a few pieces of their paperwork being missing than have to touch the ones christened by cum. 

Not all heroes come with capes. In this case, it came in the form of a traumatized overtimer. Not wanting to waste anymore time, you made your way towards the elevator. Somehow, the elevator seemed to be working as normal the second time you used it. Making your way towards the exit, you let out a breath of relief. That relief of yours ended when a familiar voice called out to you. 

Slowly, you turned your head to the source. Ah, it’s the devil’s work at play. Mustering whatever strength you had left, you quickly graced the man with your customer service smile. “Hello, Mr. Ryomen. Heading home?” 

He responded with a curt nod. “It’s late. I’m surprised you’re still here. I didn’t see you by your desk.” From how close he was to you, you could have sworn he narrowed his eyes for about a millisecond. 

The hairs on your neck became stick soldiers; your smile faltered slightly. Running through your mind for excuses, you finally landed on: “I was occupied in the printer room.” You pray to your ancestors that he didn't catch on to your lie. 

You assumed your excuse was enough, considering he no longer lingered on the topic. You’re caught off by what he says next though. 

“Since it’s so late, let me give you a ride home.” 

Your customer service smile dropped as you’re now fumbling to make another excuse. Feeling flustered you blurt out, “Oh no, it’s okay. Thank you so much for the offer though. I actually live nearby so I’ll be–” 

Rrrrrrrumble

“You’re going to walk home in this weather?” A teasing smile appears on Sukuna’s face. 

Feeling defeated, you let out a nervous chuckle. “I suppose not.” 

In Sukuna’s expensive-looking car that probably cost more than your yearly salary, you curse whatever deity is out there for your current position. It was probably 2AM right now, yet why the fuck was there still traffic at this time in the middle of the highway. 

“It seems a lot of people are trying to head back to their families for Christmas,” Sukuna blankly stated out of nowhere. You slightly jumped at his sudden comment, not expecting him to speak after sitting in awkward silence for a good 20 minutes. 

You hummed in agreement. You also assumed that the sudden snowstorm had something to do with the onslaught of traffic. You kept that thought to yourself though, not wanting to entrench yourself into further awkward small talk with Sukuna. Bringing your attention back to the traffic, you wondered if the insistent begging in your head would get the cars to move any quicker. Unfortunately for you, it was to no avail. 

Glancing to the window on your right, you tried to distract yourself with the scenery of cityscapes. Your plan was foiled when you noticed Sukuna’s reflection in the mirror. Pretending to look outside, your gaze centered on the enticing image. Sukuna seemed to have fixed his unkempt hair, keeping it in the usual slicked back hairstyle he usually adorned. The same went for his white dress shirt that he seemed to have buttoned up, leaving the top two unbuttoned. 

You focused on his hands. One on the steering wheel, impatiently tapping against the leather; the other hand on the gear shift. You wondered how it would feel if he fingered you–

Stop. 

You could feel your ears burn with embarrassment. Save your horny thoughts when you’re not a foot away from him. ‘Not now,’ you tell yourself. Trying to move on from your thoughts, your eyes focused on something else. You slowly made your way up to his face where now you could see him looking right at you. You jerked your head downwards, avoiding looking at his reflection staring right into your skull. 

Wait, does that mean…? You slowly cranked your head towards the direction where the man was sitting, only to be faced with him looking straight at you. 

“Who would have thought I’d be spending Christmas with my favorite employee?” he drawled, emphasizing the favorite.  

You got caught off guard. Luckily, you recovered fairly quickly. “Who would have thought I’d be spending Christmas with my favorite boss?” you quipped back. 

He barked out a laugh, “I’m your only boss, princess.” .

Chuckling, you shrugged. “Still stands.”  

“You got any plans for Christmas? You must be looking forward to spending time with your family and friends,” he comments. 

You swallowed the imaginary ball in your throat. “Ah, well. They’re all overseas. So, I probably won’t be seeing them this year. The plane tickets are horrendously expensive this time of year.” 

“At least you have that boyfriend of yours from the sales department.” 

“Pardon?” 

A bewildered look occupies your face. What boyfriend? You’ve been alive for a good 23 years and you have yet to even hold hands with a boy. At this point, you’ve gotten your PhD degree in singleness. Flustered, you shook your head. “I-uh. I don’t have a boyfriend.” 

He smirked. “Good to know.” 

Did he just play you? 

“Mr. Ryomen!” His deep laughter fills the small space. When it subsided, he gave you a cocky grin.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop teasing you.” He reached one of his hands towards your face, brushing a strand of stray hair behind your ears. Before you could say anything, that hand is right back on the gear shift. 

Thankfully, the traffic in front started to clear up. During the drive, you probably learned more about him than you did working 4 years at his company when you started as an intern at 19 years old. For one, he has a younger brother. He also has a hobby of tinkering with motorcycles. And if you didn’t already assume earlier on in your career, he clearly had a fondness for fucking with people (and fucking his wife, but you keep that to yourself). Thankfully, the apprehension you felt earlier was completely dispelled by the casual conversation he started.

Before you knew it, he reached your apartment complex. You promptly thanked him for the car ride, making your way out of the vehicle. “Have a Merry Christmas, y/n.” 

“You as well,” you responded. Your tongue immediately sour when you remembered the fact that Sukuna was getting divorced during the holidays (not that he knew that you knew). Oh crap. Why did you have to say that? It felt as embarrassing as telling the movie theater employees “you too” when they tell you to enjoy the movie. Luckily, Sukuna didn’t seem phased, as if he didn’t serve his wife divorce papers on Christmas day. He simply smiled, nodding in your direction before driving off. 

Thursday, December 26

You sipped on your cocktail, staring endlessly at the shiny chandelier hoping it would cure your boredom. A part of you also hoped the shiny thing would fall right on top of your date.  

“So I’m looking for someone who would…” Blah blah blah. 

You drowned out the sounds of your date’s rambling. This self-absorbed piece of shit. All he would talk about was himself. His next favorite topic being the type of girls who turned him on and the type of girls who turned him off. Then all you could remember was his ramblings about how “women nowadays are not the same anymore…” Something along the lines of that. Fed up, you have half a mind to just straight up tell him to date his own mother rather than trying to find a poor girl to be his in-home maid and incubator. You held your tongue, knowing nothing good would occur from initiating a fight with this guy. 

My god. Where did your friend even find this narcissistic bastard? You start to question HER taste in men. Purely based on appearance, the blabbermouth looks decent. But even his face card couldn’t fix his trash personality. It’s like covering yourself with perfume when you haven’t taken a shower in a month. 

You pray to your ancestors, hoping for someone to get you out of this blind date. It was as if your prayers were answered when a familiar pink-haired man walked out of the restaurant’s private rooms with another man who you could only infer to be a client. You didn’t know if it was your ancestors working some magic or if it was simply pure coincidence. If it was the latter, then it seemed too improbable to be mere chance.  

You didn’t even need to yell out a “help” when Sukuna excuses himself from his current conversation, making his way towards you. You jutted out lips, pouting almost dramatically. You only hope Sukuna could decipher the desperate energy leaking out of your eyes. 

“Ms. y/l/n, did you forget you had an appointment with me?” Sukuna looked down at his watch. “In fact, you’re late.” 

“Wait, you can’t just–” 

A menacing glare shuts up the good-for-nothing. Taking this opportunity, you quickly grab your belongings, interlocking your arm with Sukuna’s, not even giving your date a chance to say goodbye. 

Once again, you're in Sukuna’s vehicle once again. Although this time it’s red instead of the usual black you noted to yourself. “I thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend,” Sukuna teasingly comments.

You grumbled, “He isn’t my boyfriend. My friend just happened to set us up on a blind date. Well, you know how it went. Anyways, how did you know I needed help getting out of there?” 

“You were never good at hiding your emotions,” Sukuna answered. “Not now. And certainly not then.”

“Really? I didn’t even get slightly better?” you prodded. “Am I really that obvious?”

“Yes.” To him. Although he wasn’t one to linger on office rumors, he couldn’t help but notice the comments in regards to you. People said you were a vivacious one; that’s one rumor he could agree with. Some said that you were dating someone from the sales department; he thought that was true, until you debunked it yesterday. Many of your co-workers called you hardworking; he agrees. Quite frankly, you had a clean reputation. Almost too clean. So clean and perfect, in fact, he almost forgot about the 19-year-old, hot-headed intern who possessed an ego so inflated it rivaled a 10-foot pole. 

Flashback

Sukuna (28) grumbled, impatiently pressing on the elevator buttons. Fuck, one day he’s going to completely replace this box of metal with a more efficient elevator. Just as the elevator doors were about to close… 

“Wait! Bro! Can you hold the elevator doors for me?!”  

Although he certainly looks like the type to close the elevator doors on someone, he’s not completely heartless. Besides, he wondered which employee was brave enough to casually call him “bro.” Quickly, Sukuna clicked the button to open the doors. 

Unfortunately for the desperate girl on the other side, she watched in distress as the space between the two doors got closer and closer together until… closed. 

“Fuck!” She kicked the elevator doors. “You nincompoop!” 

Just as the insult left her mouth, the elevator immediately opened its door, leaving a wide- mouth country girl staring right back at red-piercing eyes.

‘Oh. A new face.’ Sukuna thought. 

The girl gulped, deciding whether or not she should ditch the elevators for the flight of stairs instead. Essentially, would she rather face humiliation or kill herself walking up 40 flights of stairs before her interview. Suddenly she remembered the wise words her mother told her before she walked through the TSA gates: You must walk through life as if you have the balls of a cis-gendered male tiger. 

Whatever that meant. So, the elevator it was! 

She stepped into the confined space shared by the other remaining person staring bullets into her head. Cold sweat adorned her back as the elevator doors closed. 

“So who’s a nincompoop?” 

‘Ah fuck,’ the girl cursed in her head. ‘I should’ve just taken the stairs T^T’ She tried to calm herself down by chanting her mom’s advice. ‘Balls of a tiger. Ball of a tiger.’

Finally getting a proper look at the guy, she almost pees her pants. This guy was definitely over 6ft. 6’3? 6’4? 6’5? At her measly 5’0 ft, she couldn’t tell for sure. And the man had very noticeable tattoos adorning both his face and his arms from what she could tell. Did she bump into a gangster? 

No matter. It’s not like she hasn’t come across gangsters in her high school days. In fact, she once chastised a gang member at her school once so confronting them wasn’t an issue— except this time it was a grown adult man two heads taller than her. 

The girl huffed, puffing her chest out, trying to be intimidating (although unknowingly having the opposite effect). “You are,” she plainly stated. 

“Hn?” Sukuna clicked his tongue. Rolling his eyes he flicked the girl’s forehead with his finger, “Are you a child? When I was in grade school, not even the kids would call me that.”

'Yeah, I'd doubt they'd say anything to you with that face of yours,' she thinks to herself, silently. Thankfully. Unfortunately, it would turn out to be her only wise decision from this point on.

Sukuna scanned the girl, starting from her broken heels, to her dress shirt that’s improperly buttoned, finally landing onto a youthful complexion staring right back at him. The audacity of this girl. “Are you lost, brat? The middle school is four blocks away,” he mocked. 

Okay, now that was pushing it. “Rude!”  Looking deeply offended, she pointed a finger towards the man. “Fuckwad! Asshat! Jackass!” Sukuna had never heard so much profanity come out of a girl’s mouth before. Even she had him admitting to himself that her colorful sailor vocabulary probably rivaled his. 

It was hilarious. 

He lets out a loud cackle. Judging by the furrow of the girl’s eyebrows deepening, he probably pissed her off even further. 

Ding 

“Hmph.” Sukuna watched as the girl marched out. Although very quickly, she snapped her head back at Sukuna. “You! I’m going to report you!” 

Sukuna's coy smile widened even further. “Go ahead.” What was HR going to do? Fire him? 

(P.S. At this point in time, Sukuna's small company didn't even have a human resources department. He WAS HR. )

His answer made the girl more frustrated, as she audibly groaned. “Whatever,” she muttered. 

Hearing another ding, Sukuna quickly asked, “What’s your name?” 

The girl’s head perked up. Her annoyed face contorts to one of apprehension. The elevators are close to closing before she yells out–

“y/n”

Flashback Ends 

Sukuna couldn’t contain his grin when remembering the first time they met. “What’s so funny?” you questioned, almost creeped out by his sudden grin. 

“It’s a secret,” he says. Not wanting to pry any further, you let him be. Much to your dismay, he brought you to your apartment complex fairly quickly, meaning your conversation was cut short once again. You could feel your heart throb. Wait… did you feel disappointed? Sad? You couldn’t exactly pinpoint the exact feeling. You admitted that it was unfortunate these conversations will come to an end though; the two of you will probably go back to the monotonous role of employer and employee who only spoke on matters regarding work. 

Your walk up to your apartment was melancholy at the very least. You thought about how your relationship with Sukuna changed over the four years you knew him for. Your meeting didn’t start off the greatest with the man relentlessly teasing you. Even if you were the one who caused it to occur in the first place. That’s a fault you stubbornly won’t admit to though. 

And then when you got hired as an intern, your spirit was undeniably fucked when you found out the man who teased you in the elevator was the CEO and founder of Ryomen Tech Corporations. 

Thankfully for you, Sukuna wasn’t one to hold deeply held grudges. Although unfortunately for you, the teasing did not stop at all. He’d make those annoying comments to irk you and you’d banter back, unable to hide your apparent dislike for the man. Things like hierarchy was definitely less structured back then when the company only contained a small team of 13 people. 

When you interviewed, the company was still a new tech startup at the time. Before that, Ryomen Sukuna worked as a freelance coder and web developer (and hacker)  after graduating from a small university for a few years. Impressively, despite having nothing to his name, he was able to push his way through. Ryomen Tech Corp. became a million dollar company in a span of a year. Year by year, more investors came shuffling in, and profits continued to rise exponentially. As of right now, Sukuna's net worth is in the billions, an achievement unheard of in four years. 

Stepping back and surveying Sukuna's extraordinary achievements within four years, you couldn't help but acknowledge his competence and admire his success. Despite his teasing nature, you discovered he possessed a charismatic charm when interacting with investors, clients, and other industry leaders.

That Sukuna felt detached, almost unrecognizable. It was hard to believe that the man who mercilessly teased you was the same individual responsible for such remarkable feats. You felt a tinge of selfishness, clinging to the hope that things would remain unchanged, that your relationship could continue as before.

However, his marriage brought an abrupt halt to this illusion. Visits to your desk for lunchtime teasing dwindled, leaving you to eat alone, bereft of the familiar rumble of his cackles and the cacophony of laughter from your colleagues. The teasing text messages, once a constant, gradually decreased, until his name sank to the bottom of your contact list. Soon, he faded from your life as subtly as he had entered it.

You didn't reach out to him, either. Perhaps it was your tendency to put yourself on a moral high ground, or perhaps it was your wounded ego, but you convinced yourself that pursuing a relationship—even a platonic one—with a married man was inappropriate.

Fumbling through your bag, you searched for your keys. Where. Is. It. You dug through your bag more haphazardly, your heart starting to race. Why. Does. This. Keep. Happening. Your search for your keys came to a small pause however when you noticed your phone rang. 

The caller ID on the phone's glowing screen displayed a name you had almost forgotten, buried beneath a haze of forgotten memories. It was as if a sudden gust of wind had swept away the fog, bringing that name back into sharp focus.

Nincompoop

Without giving much thought, you quickly picked up the phone. “Hello?” you answered. 

The familiar voice responds back, one that was deep and reminded you of velvety red wine, one that immediately quells your beating anxiety. “I think you forgot something, princess.” Just from his voice, you can tell he probably has his signature annoying smirk on the other end of his call. Quiet from disbelief, you didn’t answer. "Hello?" he prompted gently, concern lacing his voice. 

Silence.  

Geez. Did you forget how to speak? 

Panicked, you moved from your spot, only to unknowingly stub your toe at one of the trashbags by your neighbor’s bag. “Ow!” you exclaimed. Was there steel in that thing? You let out a pained groan, bending down to pat the outer layers of your shoe, hopefully aiding with the pain. Side note: It did not help. 

Hearing that you were present on the other end, Sukuna mumbled something on his end. You were unable to catch what he said though. By the time the pain subsided, you noticed that the call ended. 

Wait. What did Sukuna say, again? 

​​A sudden jingle broke through your thoughts. You looked up to see Sukuna standing by the elevator. He held up a set of keys, dangling them in front of him. "Found these in my car," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Seems someone forgot something."

Your jaw dropped. So, that's what he meant. He found your keys.

Sukuna bent down to eye level with you, slowly examining you from head to toe. “You okay?” he asks. 

“Uh huh. I just stubbed my toe. I’m alright now.” Your face is burning with shame. “Anyways, you didn’t have to come all the way up here. Thank you though.” You gave him a slight nod, taking your keys from his hand. Grabbing your arm, he helped you up. Feeling the heat spreading to your ears, you thanked him once again. ‘If there’s a merciful God out there, please bury me six feet underground right now,’ you pleaded in your head. 

"No problem," he said. Sukuna paused, his gaze lingering on you. "Besides," he added, a playful glint in his eyes, "Wouldn't want you wandering around aimlessly, now would I?"

You felt your cheeks burn even hotter. "Very funny," you muttered, trying to regain your composure. You turned towards him asking, "Would you like some water or snacks? As, uh, thank you." 

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. Knowing you were the type of person who didn't like to owe favors, he accepted. Besides, a part of him was curious about what your living space was like. They say someone's home is a reflection of one's personality. Wait... When did he become so nosy?

You led him into your apartment, feeling a strange flutter in your stomach. This was definitely not how you expected your evening to unfold. You were about to offer him a seat by the living room couch when you noticed his gaze on the framed photographs on the wall. 

He pointed to one photo. “Your parents?” 

“Yep,” you grinned. “I look like them, don’t I? “ 

His gaze lingered on your face, tracing the shape of your eyes, noses, and lips. “You do. Compliments to your mother,” he breathed, a genuine admiration in his voice. 

“T-thanks,” you stammered, avoiding his gaze. “She always said I looked more like my dad.”

Sukuna chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through the air. "I beg to differ," he said, his eyes twinkling. He gestured towards the couch. “Mind if I sit down? My feet are killing me.” You quickly offered him a seat, feeling a strange mix of nervousness and excitement. In the meantime, you went into the kitchen to prepare his snacks. 

The familiar hum of domesticity filled the small apartment as you carefully gathered your items on the counter. You busied yourself with arranging the fruit platter on the kitchen counter — apples, grapes, strawberries, and cherries. You tried to focus on the task at hand, but your mind kept replaying Sukuna's words. “Compliments to your mother.”

What did that even mean? Was he just being polite? You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He was sitting on the couch, his long legs stretched out, looking relaxed. He was running a hand through his hair, a contemplative expression on his face. Sukuna leaned back against the cushions, gazing at the ceiling. “You know,” he began, his voice a low rumble, “I was thinking... about relationships.”

You, startled by his sudden observation, almost choked on your saliva. “You were?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. Seeing your parents' picture got me thinking. How do people... how do they know when they've found the right person?”

You set down your knife, intrigued. “I don't think there's a single answer to that question.”

Sukuna nodded in agreement. “Maybe not. But what do you think?”

You pondered this for a moment, tapping your fingers on the kitchen counter. "Well I can’t speak for others but for me, I value respect and communication. I think when it comes to finding that person, maybe a little bit of luck comes into play."

Sukuna raised an eyebrow. "Luck?"

"Luck and timing," you continued, "meeting the right person at the right time and place. There was a book I read in high school where two of the characters were refugees in war and they ended up falling in love with each other. But by the end of the book, I couldn’t help but wonder: Were they truly in love, or did they simply convince themselves they were in love due to the shared circumstances? If there was never a war in the first place, would they fall in love all over again if they were to meet each other under different circumstances?”

You continued to ramble. “You’ve read the hunger games right? Or at least familiar with the movies?” Sukuna nodded, motioning you to continue. “I’m going to use Katniss and Peta as an example. If they weren't forced to fight for their lives in the arena, would they still have fallen for each other? Would their love story have blossomed under different circumstances? Or was it the shared trauma, the constant fear of death, that forged their bond?"

Sukuna watched you intently, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. He thought of his own marriage, a gilded cage built on societal expectations and a desperate need to conform. He paused his thoughts, focusing on the girl in front of him, a rare vulnerability creeping into his eyes. "But you know sometimes…the most profound connections can be born from the most unexpected circumstances,” he confesses quietly. 

“Oh yeah by the way. I got divorced today,” he says out of nowhere, in the most nonchalant manner. 

The cup of water you were sipping on suddenly clattered in the sink. You ended up choking because the water went down the wrong pipe. “What?!” 

“My wife was unhappy with our marriage. She cheated on me. I told her to sign the divorce papers yesterday. And today she signed it,” Sukuna answered as a matter of fact. 

You knew. 

You were there when he had that argument with Silvia, unbeknownst to him. But hearing him tell you is a whole different story. “I’m sorry that happened,” you automatically responded, after recovering from your near death experience. 

He let out a laugh. “Don’t be,” he shrugged, almost too nonchalant for your comfort. 

You carefully laid the fruit platter and an unopened bottle of wine on the living room coffee table. You then positioned yourself beside Sukuna, maintaining a slight distance. He reached for a plump grape, popping it into his mouth with a satisfying crunch.

"Since I'm letting you in on a secret," Sukuna began, his gaze fixed on the remaining grapes, "let me know one of yours. Like how the breakup with your boyfriend went."

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't have a boyfriend?" you retorted, a touch of exasperation in your voice.

Sukuna smirked. "Currently you don't. But surely you had a lousy boyfriend back in college?” 

You shook your head.

“High school?” 

You shook your head once more. 

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief in his expression. "Never?"

"Nope," you confirmed, feeling a strange sense of pride in your solitary existence. Then you remembered the endless ramblings of your mother and aunties about finding a boyfriend, reverting that feeling of pride back to a familiar dejection. 

Feeling a sudden wave of defensiveness you start to ramble making excuses why you weren’t dating—why you have never dated. “I’ve never been sought after romantically in my teenage years. And even when my friends set me up on blind dates, it would never work out. At some point I just assumed I wasn't built out for romantic relationships so… ” 

You practically word-vomited on the spot, your mind unable to keep up with your mouth. From your sexual history (or rather lack of), to the countless of failed blind date stories, to that one boy who rejected you in highschool… all of it came spilling out. 

The more you rambled, the more you wanted to dig yourself into a hole. But even then, you continued to talk, almost against your will as you had a poor habit of avoiding awkward situations by rambling… only to make it more awkward for yourself by the end. 

“A-anyways,” your whole ramble, rant, whatever the fuck that was, finally coming to an end. 

While you were mentally hitting yourself in the head, Sukuna, on the other hand, seemed to revel at your current mental state, the corner of his mouth raised.

“So you’ve never orgasmed before, huh,” he drawled, his smile almost menacing. Ah, fuck. Was he going to now tease you relentlessly with that newfound information? 

“So what?” you exclaimed, your arms and legs now crossed. “ It’s not my fault my body is literally built for failure in both departments of romantic love and self love.” 

Sukuna had an unreadable expression on his face. 

Immediately feeling some sort of regret, you tried to remedy the situation. “O-oh. It’s uhh not a big deal though. I could always go out and find a one night stand to help me with my needs. I-I mean…” Crap. You couldn’t even look the man in the face. 

While your face was turned away from him, you heard the pop of the bottle cork. Curious, you watched as Sukuna poured himself a pretty tall glass of wine. He took a long sip, the red liquid swirling in the glass.

Silence. 

He set the glass down on the coffee table, the sound echoing unnaturally in the sudden silence. You finally dared to look him in the eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes were narrowed, a predatory glint in their depths.

“You know,” he said, his voice stretched out in a long drawl, “If you would like, I can offer myself as a demonstration.” 

Your breath hitched. "What?"

Sukuna, leaning closer, his breath fanning your face. “Do I have to repeat myself?” 

Almost as if your body had a mind of its own, you found your lips millimeters away from his. Just as your lips were about to touch, you pulled away. With a soft thud, you fell back onto the couch, your hand covering the lower half of your face. “I-uh. I don’t know how to…” you paused for a moment before whispering, “I’ve never kissed anyone before.” 

Sukuna's gaze, intense and predatory, swept over you. “Well, then,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, “it seems like I have my work cut out for me.” He caresses your hand with his thumb before leaning down, his whole body on top of you. 

Bringing his lips to your hands, he teasingly licks it to get a slight reaction out of you. He then gently nips the skin, his teeth grazing your knuckles. Making out with the back of your hand, a rush of warmth flushed throughout your body as you imagined the same sensation on your lips instead. 

You jumped a bit when you felt his tongue once more. Slowly, he traced his tongue towards your fingers, then entwining his hands with yours, pulling it away from your face. Sukuna’s gaze then flickered towards you, watching the rheumatic motions of your chest rising and falling. 

He pulls your hand towards his chest.

“Can I keep going?” 

Your heart pounded in your ears, a quick, rhythmic beat that drowned out the howls of the wind outside. Breathlessly you answer, “Please.”

Sukuna cursed, his warm hands on you almost immediately. His lips parts, closing the space between you two. 

Sweet. With a tinge of bitterness from the red wine. You tell yourself how you could get drunk on his taste; he tastes so much better than the cocktail you were sipping earlier on your blind date.   

Trying to keep up with him, you hesitantly imitate the kisses he gave your hand earlier. You feel a faint smile on his lips which brings flutters to your stomach. Feeling slightly more confidence, you keep going. 

Just as you clench the back of his shirt, Sukuna pulls away from you. “Smart girl,” he whispered. “Are you up for another challenge?” 

Not waiting to hear for your response, Sukuna reaches for the fruit platter, specifically breaking off the stem of one of the cherries. He places it on his tongue before coming back to meet your lips once again. However this time, you find his tongue meeting with yours. 

You involuntarily moan, feeling almost overwhelmed at the moment. Pressed up against him, you could feel his erection pressed against his thighs. 

Even though the two of you were already pressed up against each other, Sukuna somehow manages to deepen the kiss between you two, teasing you with his tongue. You squirm at the sensation.

Feeling Sukuna push the cherry stem towards your tongue, you push back the stem with a competitive vigor. Thus, starting the battle of dominance between the two of you. 

Surprisingly, Sukuna is the first to part from you, sitting straight up on his knees. He stuck his tongue out showing you the knotted cherry stem sitting right on his palate. 

Fuck. 

He places the knotted stem on the coffee table before turning towards you and smirking. “A souvenir for remembrance,” he teases. Sukuna turns his attention back towards you, giving an onslaught of kisses down your neck. In the meanwhile, he hikes your skirt down, leaving you only with a pair of panties left to cover whatever dignity you had left.

“She’s soaked,” he whispers, talking to himself as if you weren’t in the room. Almost by instinct you closed your legs, only for him to spread it apart for his perverted eyes to see. 

“I want to see you touch yourself,” he bluntly stated with absolutely no shame at all. “It’s the least you can do after I gave you such an intricate lesson.” 

You turn immediately red at the memory. 

He pecks your flushed cheeks, before moving to peck your nose. “You’ve done such a good job for me so far,” he praised. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed now~” 

“W-Who said I was?” you stubbornly stuttered out loud, trying to hide your nervousness (although failing majorly). 

Sukuna laughed before helping you out of your shirt. And before you know it, your bra is off within seconds, leaving you bare for him to witness. The only piece of clothing you have left is the panties he oh so graciously left on, although you doubt it did anything to hide how naked you felt. 

Sukuna bites his lips, the corners of his mouth raised ever so slightly. ‘She’s going to be the end of me,’ he thinks, watching you as you hesitantly reach for your tender breasts, squeezing your pebbled nipples. 

He snaps the band of your panties, then slowly—almost teasingly—raking it down your thighs. Sukuna licks his lips, staring at your wet, leaking pussy. He almost swears it called his name. 

Moving one hand down, you reach for your clit, softly circling around it. You focused on looking at your hand, almost physically unable to look up at Sukuna, worried your heart would stop if you were to see his face. 

You continue to pleasure yourself, although unable to reach your high. Much to your displeasure, you never had the experience of reaching an orgasm ever since finding out about the wonders of womanhood at the age of 16. Sure you’d watch videos and read tons of articles on how to reach an orgasm, but never once have it worked for you. At some point, you accepted the fact that you were physically incapable of orgasming. 

Under the careful watch of Sukuna’s eyes, he seemed to have noticed you have reached a plateau. “Here, let me help you,” he murmured. Taking your hands in his, he guides you, pressing your fingers down firmer on your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

At some point, your hands ended up clenching his wrists, as he directly played with your clit instead. Suddenly feeling a new sensation, you panic. “Haa! Ngh! W-wait. I feel like I’m going to–” 

He keeps going. And in that moment, you lose yourself. Completely. Your body spasmed underneath his watchful gaze, like a predator watching its prey. And underneath that primal gaze was one of sadistic pleasure, just waiting to strike.

Sukuna bites the insides of his mouth, trying to hold himself back from listening to the voices in his head, telling him to pound you down on the couch at this very moment. He clenches his hands into a fight fist, drawing blood. 

Million of thoughts surges through his head. It’s like a tangled mess of desires and reason, pulling him in every direction at once. He wants you. He can’t deny that. 

However, as much as he yearns for you, he reminds himself of the facts. You’re not here for that. He wasn’t here to be your lover, or to play the part of some fairy-tale prince in the background of your life. No. In fact, he’s far from that. If anything, he’s like a starving wolf just waiting to devour you at any moment. 

Sukuna was doing you a favor. That’s all it was. He’s not a romantic interest. It was simply a one night stand— just minus the fucking. And wouldn’t it be so much better if you remember your first time with the person you choose to love rather than an impulsive decision to fuck around with your boss one night. Yeah. He nods to himself internally. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Sukuna silently waits as you come down from your high. Labored breathing fills the room. 

“How is it?” he asked smugly. 

You take a few more gulps of air before answering. “Good.” 

“Just good?” 

You pouted at his teasing. “What? Do you want a rating?” 

Sukuna laughed in response. “I wasn’t expecting that but now that you mention it, I’m curious.” 

Smiling, you rolled your eyes. “4.9 out of 5.” 

Sukuna’s eyebrows raised. “4.9? Where did my missing 0.1 go?” 

From your position, you playfully kicked the side of your abdomen. “It’s for your ego. Someone needs to keep it in check.” 

Sukuna chuckled darkly, clearly entertained by your response. “Is that so?” he mused, running a hand through his hair. “I suppose it’s a good thing you’re the one keeping it in check, then.”

You raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-wary. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

He doesn’t answer. His only response was playfully taking a bite on the same leg that kicked him. Feeling the strong urge to respond back to his teasing, you take your other free leg to nudge the prominent bulge in between his legs. 

A low groan escapes his lips. “Fuck. You’re going to end up murdering me in cold blood one day.” 

To your surprise, he slides himself off the couch and stands up. 

“Wait!” You grabbed his wrist before he could walk away from you. “But what about you?” You reach for his erection, only for him to stop you. 

“Don’t worry about me, princess.”

Your eyes filled with worry. “But I want you to feel good too.” 

You watched as Sukuna cursed under his breath. He pushes you back down on the couch, joining you once more. “Safe word is red. Red to stop, yellow to slow down, got it?” 

You nod. Unbuckling his belt, unzipping the zippers of his trousers, he finally gives himself slight relief when he takes out his cock. 

8 inches in all its glory. Hard. Flushed red, with a bead of pre-cum peaking through at the tip. 

In your head, you do a mental backflip. Never mind. You take it back. You don’t think that’ll fit anyways. 

“Close your legs together,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. Although he says that, he’s the one closing the gap between your legs, proceeding to place them on his shoulders. Speechless, you watched as he brought his cock closer and closer to you until he’s placing it between your lips, coating his appendage with your cum. 

“Haah... Oh!” You're surprised when he drags his cock over your clit, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. You could have sworn you got even wetter than you already were. 

Once wet, Sukuna takes his time, slowly sliding his cock between the plush flesh of your thighs. He groans, his head falling back as you watch his Adam's apple throb. 

Sukuna starts out slow. Apart from your labored breathing, you could hear the wet faps everytime he moves his hips, gliding his cock cover your wet cunt. A sob of pleasure washes over you when his cock brushes against your clit. You came, your entire body convulsing with overstimulation. 

By this time, Sukuna had quickened his pace, the couch sliding across the floor with each drag of his hips. With his cock pumping in and out, he gave your thighs the same hue of red as the flush on your cheeks. 

“I’m going to–” With a loud groan, Sukuna came. Thick, hot strands of his cum splattered on your stomach, with a few drops reaching your breasts as well. He continues to half-heartedly thrust until his high faded. Panting heavily, eyelids fluttering, he takes his sweet time memorizing the image of your body rightfully decorated with his seeds. If he were to be hit with a truck right now, he would die a happy man. 

Snapping back to reality, Sukuna gently places your legs down, turning towards the coffee table to grab a few tissues. When he glanced back towards you, his eyes widened. 

You were sat up—prettily so, he might add—licking his cum off your fingers. At the sight, Sukuna Jr. became hard again, ready for round two. Sensing his stare, you looked right back at him, a smirk adorning your lips. Maintaining eye contact, you gathered the rest of his cum on your fingers, licking it once more. 

'What a damn minx,' the man thought, unable to take his eyes off you. His eyes darkened, wanting to revert back to his primal urges to just take you for himself. 

Fuck him. 

Sukuna smashes his lips against yours, tasting the remnants of himself. But no matter, because all he could focus on at the moment was you.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifts you effortlessly and carries you to the bathroom. 

Once inside, he places you on the vanity. “Let’s not go any further he tells you,” he insisted, nudging his forehead against yours. You cocked your head to the side, confused. “If we go any further, I don’t think I can control myself.” 

‘Then don’t,’ you thought. 

Sukuna was really hanging on his last thread here. Thankfully for him, you just nodded, deciding to not push the matter any further. 

Friday, December 27th 

Cold. 

It was cold. 

The warmth of the blankets is the only thing that keeps the biting chill of the morning from nipping at your cheeks and nose. You snuggle deeper into them, wishing you could just stay there forever. As you shift, you feel the soft, steady pressure of his arm around you. You awaken, heart quickening, not used to another human presence in your bed. 

Noticing who the person was, you immediately relaxed. Although that came to a quick stop, once you noticed the shirtless torso staring right back at you. Glancing down, you realized you were naked too. 

Fully awake now, you race through your memories of last night. Right after your… uhh… Sukuna’s assistance in helping you further understand your womanhood, he brought you to the bathroom. You two then made out on the bathroom vanity. Then, the two of you showered. He was shampooing your hair and then… blank. 

You couldn’t remember anything after that. 

Crap. 

You looked at the man beside you, his face impossibly serene. His hair is adorably messy, strands falling across his forehead, and his lips are slightly parted as soft breaths escape him. The sight makes your heart swell, bringing a grin to your face. 

Carefully, you reach out, feeling mischievous, you gently booped his nose. The contrast between your cold touch and his warmth stirs him. He scrunches his nose, his lashes fluttering as he slowly blinks awake. His sleepy eyes meet yours, and lazily blinks for a few seconds. He then wordlessly nuzzles his face against your neck, breathing in your scent. 

A soft, muffled groan escapes him as his nose brushes against your skin. “Cold,” he mutters groggily, his voice a deep rumble that makes you giggle. Despite his complaint, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he wraps his arms around you tighter, effectively trapping you against his warm, bare chest.

“Good morning,” you greeted, running your fingers through his messy hair.

“Mornin’,” he yawns back. 

For a moment, the two of you linger in the warmth of the blankets, both wordlessly agreeing that you guys would much rather stay in your current positions for the rest of the day. But the sound of your alarm buzzing from the nightstand breaks the spell. He groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Nope. I refuse. Let’s just call in sick.”

You laugh, giving his shoulder a playful shove. “We can’t do that, Mr. CEO. Come on, get up.” He pouts in response and you can’t help but inwardly squeal at how much he seems to resemble a sulky cat. 

Reluctantly, he loosens his hold, and the two of you begin to prepare for the rest of the day. After a quick shower together and a few shared glances in the mirror, you both finish getting ready. 

The two of you step out into the crisp morning air, making your way to his car as frost glimmers like delicate lace on the windows under the pale light. He starts the engine, the heater sputtering to life and gradually filling the cabin with warmth as you settle into the passenger seat.

The drive to work is quiet and peaceful, with soft music playing on the radio. You steal a few glances at him, watching the way his hands grip the wheel and the faint concentration in his expression. It’s then you notice he’s wearing the same suit as yesterday—a subtle reminder that he hadn’t planned to stay the night. 

The car rolls to a stop in front of the towering company building, its sleek glass exterior reflecting the soft light of the winter morning. He parks in his usual reserved spot and turns to you with a warm smile. “Alright, don’t miss me too much,” he teases.

You roll your eyes playfully, getting out of his car. “Trust me, I won’t.” 

Inside, the hum of the office quickly pulls you into the rhythm of the workday. Emails flood your inbox, and tasks pile up as you try to focus, but it’s no use. Your thoughts keep drifting back to him—his voice, his annoying smirk, the way his hair was still slightly messed up this morning, and his cock.

Stop. 

You find yourself staring blankly at your computer screen, rereading the same line of text over and over. 

“Mr. Ryomen! How can I…” 

Your ears perk up at his name, and before you can stop yourself, your head turns toward the source of the voice. From your desk, you catch a glimpse of him on the other side of the room. He’s speaking with one of the department heads, his expression serious yet calm as he listens. Occasionally, he nods or gestures slightly with his hand. But it’s the subtle quirks you notice—the way his lips twitch as if suppressing a smirk, or how he adjusts his cufflinks absentmindedly. 

For a brief moment, he glances in your direction. You immediately snap your eyes back to your screen, your cheeks burning, praying he didn’t catch you staring.

But then, you hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching. You keep your eyes glued to your monitor, trying to make yourself look busy, but it’s no use. You can feel him before you even see him.

“Daydreaming already?” his voice rumbles softly, a teasing edge to his tone.

Your head snaps up to see him standing beside your desk, hands casually tucked into his pockets, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“N-No, of course not,” you stammer, straightening in your chair. “Just...focused.”

“Focused?” he echoes, raising a brow as his eyes flick to your screen. “On an empty email draft?”

You glance at the monitor and cringe inwardly. “I was...thinking about how to word it,” you say quickly, trying to salvage your pride.

He chuckles, leaning in slightly so only you can hear. “If you’re this distracted, maybe I should’ve kept you in the car a little longer.”

Your face grows impossibly hotter, and you glare up at him. “Aren’t you busy?” You shoo him away with your hand.

“Plenty,” he says smoothly, his grin widening. “But I couldn’t resist checking on my favorite employee.” Before you can respond, he straightens and takes a step back. “Carry on, then.” With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you flustered and unable to focus for the rest of the day.

Usually, you would take the overtime—but not today. Today, the idea of staying longer just feels unbearable. You left the minute the clock struck 5. You practically race to the elevator, your pulse quickening with every step. The doors close behind you with a soft chime, and as the elevator descends, you feel a small sense of relief wash over you.

By the way, on your walk home, you stopped by an adult store. From there, you quickly bought a dildo (you tried to find one a similar length and girth as you know who) and scurried your way back home. 

Saturday, December 28th 

You came into work on a Saturday, mainly because there’s a pile of leftover paperwork that you didn’t manage to finish before you left yesterday. And you blamed Sukuna for it. 

The quiet hum of the building is quite a stark contrast to the bustling energy it usually has during the weekdays. You manage to finish fairly quickly with no distractions, particularly with the absence of a certain pink haired tattooed man. By the time you’re done, you stretch your arms above your head, the tension in your shoulders easing as you stand and walk around to shake off the stiffness from sitting too long. You glance at the clock—it’s still early enough for lunch.

As you head to pack up your things, you’re startled by the sound of footsteps approaching. You look up to see Sukuna, eyes scanning the room with mild curiosity.

His eyes land on you, widening. “You’re here on a Saturday?” he asks, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Yeah, just wrapping up some stuff,” you answer, grabbing your bag and shrugging. “Had a little bit left from yesterday.”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, walking over to you. “Well, since you're done with your ‘extra work,’” he says, “how about joining me for lunch in my office? I could use the company.”

You hesitate for a second. You're not exactly opposed to the idea, but considering the guy who’s asking you out to lunch is the very person driving your head mad, it's not exactly the easiest invitation to accept.

But then again, it’s just lunch, right? 

You offer a half-smile, trying to mask the lingering uncertainty. “Alright, I’ll join you,” you say, trying to sound more casual than you feel.

Sukuna smiles back at you, the corners of his lips twitching upward in that signature smirk. He walks towards the elevator with you following suite.The two of you step into the elevator, the soft chime signaling its ascent. For a moment, the only sound is the soft hum of the machinery. 

Suddenly, the elevator jerks, causing you to stumble slightly. Sukuna grabs you by the shoulders, steadying you as the lights start to flicker. You glance over at Sukuna, who doesn't seem too alarmed, but the furrow of his brow tells you he’s noticed it too.

"Did it just stop?" you ask, voice laced with surprise.

"Seems like it." His voice is calm, though you can detect a hint of frustration in his usually smooth tone.

You both glance at the display, watching as the floor numbers refuse to change. 

Fuck you, elevator. 

Sukuna pulls out his phone, his fingers swiftly tapping away on the screen. “I’ll text maintenance,” his tone is clipped. You watch as his fingers fly over the keys, typing a quick message. He pauses for a moment, then taps send.

Luckily for him, maintenance responded to him immediately. Sukuna scans the text message for a few seconds before raising his head to look at you. “Apparently, the whole building is out of power. It'll take about half an hour before the power starts running again.”

You blink, trying to process the information. "The whole building?" you echo, glancing at the elevator walls as if expecting the entire structure to come crashing down.

He gives a nod, his gaze narrowing as if he’s already over the inconvenience. “Yep. Looks like we're stuck here for a while.” He pauses, checking the time on his phone before sliding it back into his pocket. Sukuna’s lips twitch into a half-smirk as he takes a step closer, the space between you now noticeably smaller. “Well, guess it’s just you and me, then.”

“Well, you're not exactly the worst company to be stuck with, though,” you admit. You find yourself thinking about that one time you were stuck with Alan from finance and Jeffrey from HR. Alan, bless his soul, stayed silent in a corner the whole fifteen minutes, trembling out of fear. On the other hand, Jeffrey was consistently trying to flirt with you the entire time, probably breaking a few HR protocols here and there. The irony. 

You scoff thinking about it.  

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, his gaze flicking over to you. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You got a problem with being stuck in small spaces or something?”

You blink, caught off guard by the question. “Huh? Oh, no, nothing like that," you quickly reply, trying to brush it off. “Just... thinking about some interesting elevator experiences I’ve had.”

He smirks, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary, clearly not buying your quick explanation. “Hmm, sure. Sounds like you’ve got some interesting stories,” he muses. 

Closing the space between the two of you, he traps you against the walls of the elevator, leaving you no room to move. “Speaking of interesting stories, I heard from a few little birdies you left early yesterday.”

You stiffen, taken off guard by the sudden proximity. His smirk deepens as he leans in just a bit closer, his breath warm against your cheek. You can feel the pulse of his presence more than ever now, the space between you thick with tension.

“Did I?” you manage to say, trying to keep your voice steady. “Maybe I just had things to do.”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, his gaze intense as he watches you carefully. “Is that so?” His tone is teasing but holds a hint of something more dangerous. He doesn’t move back, instead, his hand gently rests against the railings behind you, trapping you in place. “I find it funny how Ms. Overtimer decided to leave at 5 o’clock sharp. She couldn't have been trying to avoid someone, was she?” 

What was this? An interrogation? 

You swallow, unable to escape the directness of his gaze. “N-no. Like I said, I had stuff to do.” 

His smirk deepened. “And what would that be?”

You flushed, thinking back on your nightly activities yesterday. The voices from the “How To Give A Good Blow Job” video you were watching yesterday echoed through your head. 

What’s important with a blow job is to use lots of saliva to make it really wet. 

When you approach a penis, it’s very important to…

Go all the way, but don’t just lick the tip.

You don’t just lick it like a lollipop or like an ice cream cone, you really put it all in your mouth.

The next thing you thought of was the porn videos you watched right after that, as you tried to imitate the actions of the porn star on the dildo you just bought. 

As you snap back to reality, you’re faced with Sukuna’s arrogant looking face staring right back at you. “I’ll tell you what I did,” he rasps into your ear. “The moment I got back home, I fucked my fists, pretending it was you.” 

His hands reach underneath your shirt from the back, gliding over the hooks of your bra. “I thought of your drenched little pussy, bouncing on my cock, clenching around me, cumming again and again, just begging for more.” 

Your pussy throbs from his words. Before you know it, you wrap your arms around him, kissing him like your life depended on it. 

At some point you parted for air, gazing up at him through hooded eyes. Playing with his trousers, you bend towards his ear, whispering, “Do you know what I did? I bought myself a dildo, the size of your cock.” His hold around you tightens. Teasingly, you bite his ear, causing him to groan. “Do you know how hard I worked yesterday? Trying to suck that piece of plastic because I wanted to surprise you with a good time.” 

You can’t even get another word out when Sukuna’s mouth is back on yours, trying to devour you until there’s nothing left of you but a damn puddle. Just when he’s about to strip you of your shirt, the elevator door gracefully opens as if it wasn’t stuck just moments ago. 

It didn’t even take a second before Sukuna pulled you into his arms, bringing you straight into his office. 

Safe to say, the two of you enjoyed each other for lunch. 

Sunday, December 29

You’re sitting on your couch, eyes glazed over as you skim through another round of work emails, when one subject line catches your attention: "New York Business Trip". Curious, you open it, expecting some mundane update or meeting schedule. 

Surprisingly, your company is sending you and a few others to New York for a new client. The email outlines everything: flight details, accommodations, and a packed itinerary filled with meetings. You blink a few times, rereading the email to make sure you’re not imagining things.

Ah. 

Well, you should probably get to packing. 

Monday, December 30 

The flight to New York was mundane at best. Luckily no crying babies were on the flight. 

By the time you got there, it was already nighttime. Tired and exhausted, you and your colleagues made your way to the hotel.

You quickly fell asleep, your mind rather occupied with work.

Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna had also flown into New York a day prior for his own business engagements. 

Tuesday, December 31

The client offers you a sincere handshake as they prepare to leave. After stepping out, a collective sigh of relief fills the room.

As the door clicks shut, one of your coworkers slouches dramatically in their chair, their voice heavy with complaint. "Ugh, I’m so tired. Do we really have to work so close to the new year?"

Another coworker, ever the optimist, chuckles and leans back in their chair. "At least we're in New York for the new year. I mean, that's gotta be pretty exciting, right?"

A third coworker, always the one with the best ideas, perks up with enthusiasm. "Why don’t we just celebrate tonight? Let’s hit a nice restaurant and make the most of being in New York. Who’s in?"

The idea quickly gains traction, and with a few enthusiastic nods, plans are made. The team agrees to head out together to celebrate.

You all decided on a restaurant by the pier, away from midtown which tended to be one of the busiest parts of the city during the new year. Drinks are poured, toasts are made, and the atmosphere quickly shifts from business to pure enjoyment. The laughter grows louder as more wine flows, the chatter about work now replaced with stories of company drama. 

“Jeffrey from HR got fired!” 

“No way! What happened?” 

“I heard he got caught trying to buy drinks with the company card!” 

“I heard he got caught harassing some of the female staff!”

“I heard…” 

“Classic Jeffrey,” a coworker mutters, shaking their head. “The guy was a walking HR violation. Good riddance.”

You laugh. “Funny, considering he’s HR himself.” 

Another coworker, slightly tipsy, raises their glass. “To Jeffrey’s unemployment!” Everyone laughs, raising their glasses in solidarity.

The conversation shifts as someone notices a familiar pink-haired man, sitting at a table behind you with a relaxed, almost amused expression.

"Wait, isn't that…?" One of the coworkers squints, their eyes widening. "Mr. Ryomen?!"

The room falls quiet for a split second, and all eyes turn toward him. There's a brief, stunned silence as the reality sets in. Sukuna raises a brow, sensing the sudden shift in attention. "No need to act so formal, people," he says, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "This is a celebration, not a board meeting. Dinner’s on me." At his words, the initial awkwardness disperses, a collective cheer erupting around the table. 

Sukuna's gaze drifts toward you, and for a moment, the chatter around the table fades into the background. You look up at him, your eyes meeting his. The night continues, the laughter growing louder as more wine flows and the atmosphere grows more relaxed. Your coworkers are clearly enjoying themselves, their inhibitions loosening as they drink and joke.

Somewhere between the third round of drinks and the jokes about Jeffrey, Sukuna leans closer to you, his voice low as he addresses you. "You wanna head out?"

You glance around, noticing that the group is becoming more boisterous, a little too drunk for comfort. You nod, slipping out of your seat quietly, unnoticed in the haze of celebration.

The two of you walk side by side, his hand slipping into yours as he gently tucks it into the warm pocket of his winter jacket. Ending up by the pier where you can enjoy New York City’s cityscape alone, the two of you stood by the railing, the city lights shimmering in the distance, reflecting off the water below. The noise of the city feels distant here, leaving just the sound of the waves lapping against the shore and the occasional hum of passing traffic. 

Sukuna stands close, his presence comforting and intense, but there’s an unspoken ease between you now. He watches you looking at the skyline, almost entranced by the city lights. He's entranced by the way your gaze softens, the flicker of wonder in your eyes, as if the city itself holds a kind of magic just for you.

His gaze drifts down to your face, the way the soft glow of the lights highlights your features, and for a moment, he forgets the world around him.

“You like it here?” he asks, his voice low, almost lost in the wind.

You nod, taking in the sight of the towering buildings, the lights that make the city pulse with life. “It’s beautiful,” you say, your voice quiet, but content.

Sukuna smiles, a rare, almost gentle curve of his lips.“You know,” he begins, his voice a bit more serious now. 

You turn to face him. “I like you,” he admits, his voice steady but low, the sincerity in his eyes undeniable. “More than I should.” 

Your face shifts to one of surprise before a smile spreads across your lips. “And?” you ask, a teasing edge to your voice as you try to coax more out of him.

Sukuna’s expression falters for a moment, a look of surprise crossing his features, as he didn’t expect for you to react so playfully, before his usual confidence returns. He steps closer, his presence overwhelming yet somehow comforting, his gaze never leaving yours. 

“And…” he murmurs, taking a breath as if steadying himself for something more. He tilts his head slightly, a small, almost playful glint in his eyes now. “This confession has been long overdue.” 

You cock your head to the side. “And?” 

Sukuna rolls his eyes. Cradling your face with both his hands, he pulls you gently toward him, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes soften, the playful glint still present, but there’s a sincerity now that you can’t ignore.

“Goddammit, woman,” he mutters, although there’s no trace of frustration or anger behind it. “And,” he starts again, voice quieter this time, “I want you.”

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

“I need you.” 

Another tender kiss, this time to your nose, as if savoring the simple closeness of you.

“I love you.”

‘I've loved you ever since your stubborn ass appeared in that elevator,’ he thought. 

Without another word, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s slow, deliberate, and full of all the things he hadn’t been able to say. The world around you seems to fade as the moment stretches on, leaving only the two of you, suspended in the quiet of the city night.

Sukuna closes his bedroom door behind you with a soft click, turning towards you once he locks the door. Crossing the short distance between the door and you with a few, casual strides, he helps you out of your coat, carelessly leaving it on the floor once off. Not even moments later, the rest of your clothes soon followed the fate of the discarded coat. 

Your body was bare before Sukuna’s affectionate gaze; vulnerable and utterly exposed to his wandering eyes. “You’re soaked, darling,” his silken cadence carrying a hint of teasing. It’s no surprise though, considering he fingered you in his car on the way to his New York City penthouse. 

“Put it in already,” you whine, tired of waiting. In fact, you’ve waited for exactly a week ever since the man took your first kiss and first orgasm. 

He bites your thighs in response. “Don’t you know patience is a virtue?” 

“Funny, I don’t remember signing up to be virtuous,” you muttered. 

He laughs in return. “Well, it’s not too late to start, but you might want to hurry.” You rolled your eyes. This man is insufferable. You start self-pitying yourself for falling for this man’s charms. 

Sukuna begins to pepper kisses down your thighs, before reaching the wet mess between your legs. He gives your cute cunny a wet, sloppy french kiss, causing you to squirm. Sukuna’s hands, however, found themselves wrapped around your thighs, preventing you from squirming away. 

Just when you’re about to reach your high, he parts from you, a frustrated whine permeates the air. He playfully tsks at you, shaking his head with a smirk. “What did I say about patience?” 

“I don’t want to hear that from you!” you exclaimed. “You’re impatient and far from virtuous, you pervert.”

“Me? Impatient? I held out for 4 years. Just when I could take you for myself, I cockblocked myself for a week.” He taps the head of his cock on your slit. “If anything, I’m the epitome of virtue.” 

“That’s bull– AH!” Your head smothered in the crook of his neck, legs trembling, your upper body falling limp to the dull aching pain in between your legs. 

On Sukuna’s end, he hisses from the way your virgin walls tighten around his length, his eyes half-lidded. “Shitt…” he curses breathily, the tightness of your pussy is almost too much for him. With the addictive way your walls wrap around his cock, he can’t help but yearn for more. He snaps out of his mind-fucked haze when he hears your quiet sniffles. 

Sukuna gently distracts you by petting your head, his fingers threading through your hair as he shushes you softly, the warmth of his hand grounding you. He licks away the tears threatening to fall from the corners of your eye. 

“You're an animal,” you croaked out. His fingers continue their gentle path through your hair, the action tender but possessive. 

“Shouldn’t that be obvious by now?” he murmured, silencing your whimpers with a deep kiss. One of his fists, curled so tightly, draws blood, as he holds back a debauched smile from appearing on his face. His breathing is labored, each exhale coming out in sharp bursts, but his eyes—those predatory, crimson eyes—remain locked on you with an intensity that borders on dangerous. The control he’s desperately clinging to is beginning to fray. That debauched smile of his still doesn’t quite break free, but if you were to open your eyes, you can see it lurking, threatening to spill over at any moment. 

Right. This is why he was so hesitant about claiming you as his. Because once he did, his possessiveness would consume him entirely, and no amount of restraint could keep him from acting on the wild urge to mark you, to own every inch of you. It’s why he had kept his distance, why he had let the silence stretch between you for so long. But now, with you so close, with your scent filling his senses, it was clear he had waited too long.

The struggle within him intensifies, the weight of his desires battling with the need to maintain decent dignity, but seeing the frown on your lips tugged on his fucked-up sense of morals. So, he patiently waits until your legs are no longer trembling. Kissing the palm of your hands, he asks, “Can I start moving now?” 

You respond with a breathless yes. As you wished, he started moving with carefully curated, slow thrusts. Your mind fills with confusion, unable to figure out the difference in the waves of twisted pain and pleasure you feel with each drag of his hips. 

Sukuna bends down to your tits, taking your pebbled nipple in his mouth, while teasing the other one with his hands. “So fucking tight,” he rasps, parting from your sensitive bud, leaving only but a string of saliva. 

God, this pussy will be the end of him. You will be the end of him.

‘Aren’t you the most prettiest thing,’ he thinks to himself.  

On the other hand, you feel too overwhelmed to even think. You pant through each tactful thrust of his, your hands clutching onto his bed sheets to ground yourself. Feeling the specific drag against your g-spot, you let yourself go without warning. 

Feeling your pussy clench wildly around his appendage, Sukuna curses, attempting to pull out but ultimately failing when your cunt just sucks him right back in. A choked up laugh bubbles from his throat, as he submits himself to pleasure, releasing his sperm right into your cavern. When he pulls out, he savors the scene of your stretched hole pulsing wildly yet clenching around nothing. 

Sukuna gives you a quick kiss on your lips, symbolizing a job well done, before walking towards his mini fridge to get beverages for the both of you. Disregarding your aching lower half, you sat up from your position, watching your lover—butt naked—tinkering with the items in the fridge. 

You stare into space when you think about how… soft he was with you. You almost wonder if somehow a ghost took over his body the few times he was intimate with you. You knew that man had a penchant for torturing his bed partners with pleasure. It was almost common knowledge with anyone who has interacted with anyone from Silvia’s high society circle. Or any one of the Sukuna’s past flings. You, neither in Silvia’s circle nor friends with any of Sukuna’s past flings, only relied on the words from a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a… you get it. 

Anyways, his gentle demeanor with you almost deceptively deceives you of his true nature in bed. As delighted as you were by his ability to approach you with such surprising gentleness, you wanted to know the full extent of Sukuna’s… bedtime habits, so to speak. 

There’s a saying: Curiosity killed the cat. 

So don’t say this narrator didn’t warn you beforehand. 

You snap back from your thoughts when you realize Sukuna was heading back towards you with two bottles of water. He opens the cap for you before handing you one of the bottles, placing the edge of the bottom on your forehead, a gesture that takes you by surprise. The coolness of the bottle against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, sharply contrasting the lingering memory of his body heat pressed so close to yours.

You take the bottle, mumbling a quiet thank you, before taking a few sips. He hums in response, proceeding to take a drink from his bottle himself. You watched his Adam's apple bob with each swallow, the movement oddly captivating. 

“Don’t you think you’ve been holding back?” you stated as a matter of fact. 

He stops drinking, looking at you over the rim of his bottle, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing your words. The silence hangs between you, thick with anticipation. Slowly, he lowers the bottle, twisting the cap back on. His gaze never leaves yours, sharp and calculating, like he’s trying to read the real meaning behind your statement. 

“You’re way too eager to push me,” he murmurs, his lips licking off the excess moisture from the liquid. “You should be more worried about your wellbeing than the rumors floating around about my sexual preferences.” He sits down on the edge of the bed, putting a strand of hair behind your ears. 

You slap that hand away, pouting. “Well, if you’re not going to fuck me properly, I’ll just go find someone else to do it,” you state, preparing to stand from your spot and pretend to leave the room. 

Sukuna clenches the empty plastic bottle in his hand, the sound of crushed plastic permeating in the room. 

“Sit down.” He pats his lap, motioning for you to take a seat. 

The command is simple, but it cuts through the air with a force that makes your body freeze, your movements halting mid-step. There's no mistaking the tone in his voice—low, dangerous, and absolute. The room feels smaller now, the air in the room somehow thickens.

You hesitate, eyes flickering between his clenched fist and the way his gaze remains locked on you, as though daring you to challenge him. And despite yourself, you do end up sitting on his lap, his arms immediately cradling you against his body. He grazes his teeth on your shoulder, before actually biting, drawing blood. 

Startled, you flinch. However, with Sukuna’s arms wrapped around you, you couldn’t move nor could you run away. 

“You’re being such a brat,” he slurred, sounding drunk on your smell. He brings his other hand to caress your cheeks, “And here I thought you were my good little girl.”

Your heart quickens with excitement, the pulse in your chest pounding louder than ever. It’s a heady mix of anticipation and the raw thrill, the tension between you both so thick it’s almost suffocating. 

"Am I not being good enough for you?" you asked with a hint of mock innocence, feigning ignorance. You intwine your hands with his, nuzzle your face into the palm of his hands. 

“If you were, we wouldn’t be in this position,” he rasps, his self-control hanging by a thread just waiting to snap at the right moment. Your breath hitched slightly when he runs his large, calloused hands around your sides before stopping by your ass cheeks to fondle it. His voice was low and husky as he spoke, filled with a barely restrained lust. "You're being a dangerous tease right now, love.” 

“Dangerous?” you mused, leaning forward to whisper into his ear. “Why am I so dangerous?” You began to slowly grind your hips against his, gently rocking in his lap. 

Sukuna's hands clenched tightly on to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he felt your body move against him, creating a torturously good friction. “Precisely because of this,” a hint of a growl escaping from his lips.

You purposefully let out a loud unabashed moan as you continue to rub yourself against his tattooed thighs, hoping to crumble whatever’s left of his self-control. Pushing out his cum from earlier, you smear it all over his thighs. “Oops,” you gasped, faking your astonishment. “Sorry for making such a mess, Kuna. You know I couldn't help myself,” you taunted, unknowingly signing a sealed deal for the absolute annihilation of your body for the next morning come. 

Snap 

The very next second, you’re thrown onto the bed. You look behind you where his large and strong frame hovers over yours. You don’t even get a chance to savor the look on his face when he grabs you by the hair, pushing your head face down into the mattress. 

“That’s it. Shut it, you cock hungry slut.” 

Oh! So there’s that sadistic pervert of a man you know and love. 

Inserting his fingers into you, he starts targeting your g-spot, probing at that one spot on purpose! 

“That’s enough!” you protested, your legs shaking from quite possibly overstimulation.  

He doesn’t stop, pretending as if he didn’t hear. After a while of constant whining on your end and absolutely zero reactions on his, you attempt to crawl away from him, the sensation far too overstimulating for you. Your plan comes to a foul stop however, when he drags you back with a sharp pull by your legs. 

Your head snapped back to look at him, his eyes burning holes into your skull, looking absolutely furious with you. “I thought you wanted to fuck around and find out?” A hand comes down onto your ass cheek. “I’m giving you exactly what you asked for, so why are you running away?” 

Exactly, why are you running away? You give yourself a mental prayer, before deciding to absolutely stop using your head and to start thinking with your cunt instead. 

Sukuna presses his body up against yours, his weight almost knocking the air out of your lungs. Practically accepting the position you're in, you wholly welcome his cock sliding into your needy pussy. 

“You’re probably the best cock sleeve I’ve come across so far,” he groans. “Probably because of that slobbering pussy of yours.” He forces two fingers into your mouth, a mad grin spreading across his face when he feels your tongue swirl around his digits. “Right,” he thrusts even harder, causing you to gag on his fingers, “and I can't forget about that slutty mouth of yours.” 

Fuck. Was it just you or did his cock just get bigger while inside? 

You can’t even focus for long when he’s prone boning you into the mattress like the pleasure-drunk sadist he is. 

Each time he looks down at you with those glazed eyes.

Each time he pushes into you. 

Your mind goes blank from pleasure. 

The vulgar sounds of flesh on flesh echoes in your ear, filling up your head til you can’t think of anything else. 

Panic arises in you, snapping you out of your euphoric haze when you suddenly feel the need to pee out of nowhere. With a sudden surge of clarity, as if flipping a switch, you quickly inform Sukuna of your urgent matter. Or at least you try to— through the moans, pants, screams, and incoherent ramblings. 

Weirdly enough, even through all that, he surprisingly understands your intended message quite well. Although his response is not one you expect. 

 “Go ahead,” he sneers. “Squirt, cum, piss as many times as you want. The sheets are dirty enough already.” 

“...Ngnhh. It feels… strange… good. O-h fuck!” You squirt—or was it piss, anywho it didn’t matter what it was—for the nth time that night. You're unsure how many times you came so far. But then again, who’s keeping count? 

“Say you love me,” he mutters under his ragged breaths. 

You don’t seem to process his words though. Thoroughly fucked over, the only sounds you make are absolutely obscene. “Ngh oh~ hahhh!” 

“Louder,” he demands, his cock pummeling into your aching cunt. “Say you love me. Come on. Say it feels good.” 

“Haa! Hngh! Oh!” Only unabashed moans escapes your lips, your mind too fucked to comprehend his words. 

“Did I already fuck you dumb?” he mocked, clearly unimpressed with your lack of decorum. That’s a lie. He’s reveling in pure joy 

Suddenly, he changes his pace, going obnoxiously slow.

You writhed in response, whines escaping your mouth. “Nooo,” you protest, missing the fast pace already. 

“No?” Sukuna slowly pulls out until his tip is only part enveloped by your warmth. “Weren’t you begging me to slow down earlier though?” 

You don't even remember if you said that. In fact, you can't recall any of the jumbled words that came out of your mouth. And for all you knew, he could've just made it up.

Fucked as you were, you could only respond with a mumble of incoherent whines.

In response, he spanks you, your pussy clenching in response, making him grin. “Aww, does my pretty little slut like that?” He spanks you one more time, pleased when your walls clenched around him once again. 

Now that he’s got your attention, he repeats his orders to you once more. Through thick tears of pleasure dripping down your face, you whisper, “I love you, Kuna.” 

Fuck. 

Now, you were really going to be the death of him. 

Not giving you a second to breathe, he pulls you towards the edge of the bed. Then, almost effortlessly, he holds you in the full nelson position. You’re surprised when he walks you towards the glass windows of his bedroom. From there, you could see the whole entire city of New York, its lights shimmering like a sea of stars beneath you. The skyline stretches far and wide, towering buildings casting long shadows across the streets, their lights flickering in rhythm with the pulse of the city. But more than that, you see the fucked-up position you're in, reflected in the glass windows. 

“Since you enjoy the view so much…” Sukuna slowly positions his cock to your needy cunt. You squeal the moment he penetrates, his heavy and thick cock mercilessly berating your slutty walls. “Enjoy it while you can!” 

He brings you down on his cock, harder with every pound. Expectedly, your vulgar juices trickle down his 8 inch cock with every drag of your hips, creating a white ring around the base of his cock. 

“Kuna– I- ngh! Tooo-oooo d-deep! It’s too much!” 

Your words cause Sukuna to chuckle. Too much? Too much? Your pussy sure didn’t think so, welcoming each thrust with open arms, even greedy for more. It sucked in his cock so well, getting tighter every time he tried to pull out. 

You interrupt his trance when you start chanting his name over and over again, the only warning he has until you squirt all over his cock, his floor, and his penthouse windows. He follows suit, pulling out his cock, and allowing his cum to join the mess you have already made. 

Feeling light-headed, he thirsts for air, deciding that your lips was the only remedy he wanted—needed, at this moment. 

In the midst of your kiss, fireworks sprung into the night sky, painting the sky with their brilliant lights. The colorful splatter of light shines through the windows of Sukuna’s New York penthouse. 

Wednesday, January 1

Your attention was briefly drawn to them as they sparkled and crackled above, their explosions echoing through the silence of the night.

Sukuna, his breath still coming in warm pants, looked up at the fireworks only momentarily before returning his crimson eyes back towards you, intense and unwavering. 

He places you down, his hand gently cupping your jaw, turning your head to the side. As the fireworks painted the sky with fleeting brilliance, Sukuna's lips found yours again, grounding you in a moment that felt timeless—far more profound than the fleeting lights above.

Author’s note: My apologies for any grammar mistakes in advance 🙇‍♀️ The fic ended up being longer than I expected, so I had to cut/summarize several scenes to ensure everything would fit on Tumblr.  Here are some of the plot points that I skimmed over (that were originally supposed to be stretched out into proper scenes): A shower scene y/n learning how to give a blow job using a sex toy Phone sex between the two the day y/n got the business trip email  And of course, the office sex scene

There’s a few more but that’s a secret for now haha. Anyways if any of you all are interested, please let me know

[readychilledwine]

5 Steps Forward, 2 Steps Back

Rhysand Week Day 5 - Survivor

Summary - 50 years without your mate and husband seems almost easy now that you two are facing his recovery

Warnings - implied Rhysand power surge causing a similar situation, mental health, depression, recovery, angst, training, the power of choice coming into play

A/N - Happy Day 5 of @officialrhysandweek! This one was rough to write. Mental health is such a huge under discussed topic, and Rhysand, I feel, would be a huge advocate for it. Becoming a survivor is something many will say is process and choice. Rhysand definitely made the choice to recover and fight, and I imagine he leaned heavily on the IC to do so. I think that's so powerful. This was my favorite prompt for this week.

✨️Rhysand Week Masterlist✨️Rhys Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️

The wine bottle and plates shattered on the floor were a clear sign that things weren't actually okay.

You released a breath from the chair you sat in, unsure of what had even happened. You and Rhysand had been talking. He'd been having a great day. But now? Now, the dinner you had spent hours making for your mate was all over the floor, ruined as you sat there shaking in fear.

“I didn't mean to do that,” he gasped out as if he was trying to breathe again. “I don't know what happened. I-” Rhysand's powers had been what happened. He had zoned out while eating, he had let himself relax, let himself be vulnerable.

“It's okay.”

“You're fucking terrified. It's not okay!”

He was angry with himself, with his inability to control his mind and emotions. You had to move to separate rooms to sleep. You had to use magic to change the flowers in the garden. You had to remove all dresses that reminded him of her from your closet. He knew you were doing this because you love him. Because you were his mate. Because you hoped he would heal.

But he didn't see that light most days. He was trapped in an ocean of emotion. Drowning as he so desperately tried to reach the surface where light was reflecting, mocking him. Happiness was just out of his reach, laughing in his face as he struggled.

Your hands were folded in your laps as your enchantments on the Riverhouse cleaned the mess, “We can go to Rita's or somewhere quiet.”

“We can go to Rita's or somewhere quiet,” he repeated back sarcastically. “Maybe you should go and I'll just stay here.”

It was a punch to the gut. You released another shaking breath, “Rhys-”

“We should consider separation. I am not who you need me to be anymore and I don't know if I ever will be again,” with lethal grace he stood, leaving you alone at the table. Your appetite was gone. How could you want food when your heart was fairly sure it had just stopped?

Seconds were minutes. Minutes were hours. Hours passed like days.

You sat there waiting, crying, hoping he'd come back, hoping this was just an irrational statement that you two could talk about. But his face. His tone. Everything made you pause, holding a tight breath in your chest before releasing a loud sob.

Rhys had been home from the mountain for a month. His trauma had only been healing for a month. You had not expected progress. You had only wished to be a source of light for him, a tether of brightness as he sat in the dark. For 50 years you had prayed for him. You'd pray for 50 more if that's what it took, but you were lying to yourself if you tried to pretend it didn't bother you when you denied your kisses. Pretended it didn't bother you when he wouldn't touch you. Wouldn't look at you.

Your husband and mate was gone. Deep in his mourning, his heartache, his pain. You stood and walked to your room, not even taking a moment to glance at the lavish walls and plush furniture. Collapsing onto your bed, you laid there. The heels you wore ached, the dress you were wearing felt too right, everything felt wrong in this room.

The wrong soft silk sheets. The wrong scent. The wrong temperature. It wasn't the bed you two shared. It wasn't Rhysand's scent cocooning you. It wasn't the warmth of his wings sitting across you like a weighted blanket. It was empty.

Rhysand was in the same place in the marriage bed you should have been in. He had his head resting in his hands, eyes shut as he took deep stilling breaths. Hurting you was his biggest fear these days. 50 years being powerless, of being abused and used, of her. Your love for him, the way you had not even screamed, the way you'd only held him, it almost was too much.

He'd prepared for anger, for yelling, for anything besides you falling to your knees and begging to help him. What had happened to him felt like ash sitting in his stomach. A poison just waiting to kill.

But even ash had a cure.

Even his darkest moments could have light if we just continued to fight.

And so the next morning, he did. He forced himself out of his cold bed at 5am, throwing in training leathers before entering the chambers across from his that you slept in. “I'm going to go train,” he whispered into your ear. It was a sense of normalcy, a pattern you two held every day before those long dreaded year.

He'd whisper to you every morning, telling you where he was going, how long he'd be gone, and most importantly, the words he said next, “I love you, darling.”

The ghost of a smile came to your face, the bond subconsciously responding to him. “I love you and I'm going to fight for me. For us,” his hushed tone still rang through your sleeping soul, his voice so low and sure. “Don't give up on me.”

“Never,” you responded in your sleep. “Never give up.”

Rhysand fought harder that morning with Cassian. Hands striking true and hard as they practiced hand to hand, body moving in a pattern and rhythm he thought he'd long forgotten.

You walked out to grunts and Azriel yelling encouragement. To the sound of wings fluttering and flaring. To sand moving with the force of the powerful males before you. This was him, this was Rhysand. This was his mind, throwing his anger and his frustration right where he needed. This was him finally taking the offer of his brothers to be his target.

“Left side,” Azriel yelled. “Left!”

You flinched for Cassian as Rhysand pounded that opening, the rookie mistake handing Rhysand an advantage. “Come on, Rhys,” Azriel shouted again.

You continued to watch, tray with waters in your hands as Rhysand made the choice and fought so much more than just his brother today.

A leg sweep. A basic move Rhysand had spent hours teaching you. That's what it took for him to take down Cassian. Azriel was the first to react, running to Rhysand and picking him up to celebrate the General's back meeting the sand pit they picked to train in. Cassian's deep laughter tore through the air next, joy shaking the trees and your bones as he realized Rhys had won. You set the water down before being the one to help pull Cass up, barely staying steady as you did.

Rhysand and Azriel were still celebrating his hand to hand win against Cassian as you leaned against said male. “You left your side open on purpose,” you stated under a steady breath.

Warm eyes met yours, “And if I did?”

“Why? He's never going to let this go.”

Cassian only kissed your hair before answering in a hushed, deep tone, “Because he said once when we were little that the day he beats me hand to hand is the day he learns he can beat anything. It's time for him to learn he can beat anything, especially when he makes the choice to.”

"It will not be an easy fight," you held Cassian's eyes.

The General gave you his signature smirk, "Then I guess it's good all of us are here to fight with him."

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[misspelledwordswizard]

Chapter 23 - Back on the road

Previous chapter / Next chapter

A murmur from the few Skyloft inhabitants still around became just a muffled buzz behind me as I looked carefully at the options of products available for purchase. After two days of slowly bringing the boys to the surface, only Time and I were left here, which made me the next one Sky would take down there, since the old man insisted on being the last one to go. Considering this, I thought it would be appropriate to prepare and buy a few things for the trip in advance.  

Of course, my “things” were junk food or trinkets to distract me, but that was only because there was nothing essential that we really needed. And as long as these boys owe me a mountain of debt, I will continue to use this as an excuse to spend money on junk every now and then. I was a little indecisive about what to take, I may even be spending unnecessarily, but I am not an irresponsible person who buys more things than I can carry.  In the end, I thought it best to go with the reliable basics, a bar of chocolate and some dried fruit to eat on the way, and a cute ring that I saw and thought looked just like the Veteran. Maybe that would help improve his mood, which has been terrible the last few days. 

I don’t blame him. After such a peaceful time here, the idea of ​​returning to the constant stress down there and the dangers out there is quite stressful. But this peaceful time has also made me a little more confident about it, now we are all a little less overwhelmed, which gives us a certain advantage in possible future tense situations. 

I put my recent purchases in my enchanted pocket as I handed the rupees to the vendor and then started walking back towards the knight academy, where the Chosen Hero is probably already waiting for me. Just thinking about having to go through the traumatic experience of holding on to Sky while he jumps out of his loftwing already gives me the shivers, unfortunately there is no way out of this.  The sun was high in the sky, it must be close to noon now, I hope it’s a little cooler down there on the surface than it is here. 

As I walked up the path to the Academy I could see from afar the familiar blond hair of the lazy hero, who had his back to me, looking at the blue sky where some loftwings were crossing without a rider with them, no more. I approached him silently so as not to scare him, even though he had probably already noticed my presence, and I touched his shoulder to get his attention. 

Sky turned to me with a sweet smile on his drawn lips and peace in his eyes. 

— Oh, hello. I’ve been waiting for you. Ready to take off? 

— Not as ready as I’d like, but there’s no way I can get out of this, right? — I gave a dramatic sigh to intensify my speech, before giving him an almost comical questioning look. — Right? 

— I’m afraid there’s no escape. 

The quiet laugh he let out next was payment enough for my momentary suffering, and in the end, I think flying with the blond once more would be comforting. 

— And Time? 

— I saw him just before I left, about an hour ago, he was heading to the goddess statue. 

— Okay, I’ll find him anyway when I come to get him later. Let’s go, the sooner the better. 

I agreed as I followed him to the wooden part he was quick to throw himself off, if I wasn’t so used to it thanks to his game, I probably would have freaked out a little about it, but the whistle that came right after was calming enough for my unsuspecting heart. Soon the large crimson red bird dove at high speed further down the flying island we were on, and even though I didn’t see it, I knew that Sky had been caught and was safe.  

The man flew his loftwing into my field of vision again, hovering as close to the island as possible, a little lower than ground level, so that I could safely mount the large bird, and he also extended a hand to me, encouraging me with this comforting act of trust. 

I tried to control my wobbly legs and overcome this fear, which wasn’t even that difficult, because I completely trusted the hero and I knew he would catch me if I fell. As soon as I was on top of the crimson bird, I held on tightly to the sky knight’s waist, closing my eyes tightly, waiting for the butterflies in my stomach that would come when we started moving.   

But the feeling I was expecting never came. I must have kept my eyes closed for a whole minute and we didn’t “take off.” When I cautiously opened my eyes again to find out why, I saw a quick glimpse of the blond’s mischievous smile before the big bird suddenly dove down, sending butterflies into my stomach and provoking an involuntary scream that I couldn’t contain, coming from deep in my throat, to the point that I think even Time can hear it from the top of the island. 

You damn blondie! I take back all the good things I’ve ever said or thought about you. You’re as treacherous as your brothers. You waited for the moment when I was least prepared just to scare me. 

As convinced as I was to curse the hero in the white cape that held me like a lifeline, the spontaneous and genuine laugh he let out when the flight stabilized and my scream stopped was enough to make me forget about it. 

— Sky! You did it on purpose! 

— Forgive me, I couldn’t help it! I admit that I don’t regret it, I’ll keep the memory of that high-pitched scream of yours forever. 

I snorted, holding back my own laughter, as I felt my heart slowly calm down after the scare. 

— I only forgive you because I have the feeling that if I don’t do it, you’ll do it again until I do. 

— Hm, it’s a possibility. — He turns his face just enough to see me and winks at me, making me roll my eyes with a silly smile on my lips. 

We glide peacefully over the clouds while Sky heads to a specific point in the sky, where there was a hole in the fluffy white cotton fabric that hid the surface of whoever was up here. Being like that, he flew steady and controlled, with the wind bouncing against my cheeks and bringing a coolness to my body that was warmed by all the adrenaline that had just run through it, it was quite pleasant. Almost desirable, if it weren’t for the way we would have to descend soon. 

And speaking of the devil, we were soon hovering above the crack in the sky. Sky tried to descend as much as possible, but that didn’t make the fall we would have to face much less.  He put both legs to one side and instructed me to grab him like we did last time. I put my legs around his hips and grabbed him under his arms, holding on tightly and waiting for the moment he would jump.  

He didn’t make me wait long this time, and soon the butterflies in my stomach from being in free fall ran through my body, chilling my bones and making me hold on even tighter to the hero, who kept one of his arms firmly wrapped around my waist as an extra security while we continued to fall. There wasn’t much I could do, since he could only open his cape when we were close to the ground, but it was still kind of terrifying. At least my torture didn’t last long, in a few seconds I felt his arm break away from its place around me to open his cape, abruptly slowing our fall, and soon I felt the man’s feet landing on the ground.   

Sky helped me back to solid ground while my limbs were shaking and sore from how hard I grabbed him – I hope I didn’t accidentally break one of his ribs – but as soon as his hands moved away from me, no longer holding me up, I felt my legs weaken, and considering that the blond was distracted for a moment and couldn’t catch me in time, I would have fallen to the ground, if it weren’t for other strong arms that held me when my back was already very close to colliding with the flat surface of the ground. 

Opening my eyes that I closed instinctively, the Rancher’s deep blue eyes were the first thing I saw, there was a certain playful glow in them that warmed my heart, and I found myself smiling at the sight of him. After putting me back on my feet – this hero keeping his arms tightly around me until I recovered – he was quick to give one of those teasing smiles. 

— You’ve barely arrived here and you’re already falling into my arms, darlin’? 

— Twilight! — I exclaimed excitedly, hugging him tightly, not giving in to his silly provocation, which he returned with a fierce hug that literally lifted my feet off the ground. 

Having been one of the first to come here, it had been a long time – two days – since I had seen him. I never thought I could miss someone so much in such a short space of time. When he put me back on the ground I was already well enough to stand on my own, and it was then that I saw the others approaching the three of us. 

Wind and Wild waved fervently at me, which I returned with the same intensity, they were the ones who ran to get there first. As everyone approached, I could see Sky moving away from the corner of my eye, going to a loftwing statue to return to the skies and finally go get Time as quickly as possible. 

 My attention returned to the group approaching us when the Sailor threw himself into my arms, almost knocking me over again, but I managed to catch him and stabilize myself in time, drawing childish giggles from him. 

— You’re finally here! Come on, you must see this! 

Before I could argue with the brat, he started pulling me by the hand down the path he had just come from, passing by the others who were still walking without even letting me greet them properly, leaving me with the only option of waving while the youngest took me away and his brothers watched, standing still, without a reaction – except Hyrule, who smiled sweetly and waved goodbye back. 

All I could do was shake my head while laughing at the boy’s excitement, but I also wanted to scold him for making me run when my legs were still recovering. Wind yapped about everything he had seen in the Hyrule under construction here on the surface, which was more like a small village under construction, but for him it was the most incredible thing in the world. And it kind of was. I mean, it’s not every day you get to see the origin of your kingdom. 

 We passed by several inhabitants, some of whom I recognized from Skyward Sword, and to whom the Sailor seemed very accustomed; if you didn’t know, you might think he had grown up among these people. The elderly people particularly adored him; he said that he was always getting sweets from them and listening to their stories while they helped them with tasks. Oh, these heroes, always so helpful. But it’s still impressive how he got close to almost everyone here in a day and a half. 

Everything was very calm for me, it was a good way to pass the time while we waited for Sky and Time to return, that is, until I saw her. 

The games don’t do justice to her beauty. Zelda is probably the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met; her light blonde hair looked like the noblest silk and framed her angelic face perfectly. Her light eyes seemed to contain all the peace and beauty of the heavens in them. Her gentle expression was the perfect complement, intensifying all that calm that one felt when looking at her.   

She looked like an angel and approached me with such a sweet and gentle smile, as if we were old friends who hadn’t seen each other for a long time, and that only made me feel even worse with the pang of envy that hit my chest. Although, it was more like a realization. I’m sure that all Zeldas are as beautiful as this one, and to think that each of the boys is close to a woman as divine, as perfect and as dazzling as her made me feel inferior. It made me feel insecure. 

And that is totally and undoubtedly ridiculous. How could I dare compare myself to these women? It almost seemed offensive. And even more ridiculous was that the reason for this comparison was to think about how the Links saw me in a more inferior way than I imagined because they were used to this type of woman. That’s what really bothered me. 

— Hello! You must be the traveling companion that Wind talked about so much, I’m glad to meet you! — She says, her voice as sweet as it sounds, as she comes closer to hug me gently. — I’m sorry you got involved in all this mess of theirs! But I’m glad they have a lady as kind as you with them. 

— Oh, um, thank you. — I felt my cheeks heat up. I guess she has that effect on people. — Don’t worry, getting involved in this mess is probably one of the best things that ever happened to me. 

Her soft laugh made me feel less nervous, and all that anguish seemed like a thing of the past. It was hard to hold any resentment towards someone genuinely so sweet and kind. I found myself smiling at her, it was nice to have her around, I can say that even though I’d only known her for, technically, two minutes. 

— I suppose we don’t have much time before you need to leave, but why don’t we take the opportunity to walk around and talk? I bet that after so much time with nine men, some female company wouldn’t be so bad. 

— Oh, yes, that sounds great! — A shy laugh leaves my lips and I turn to Wind, who just smiles and waves, encouraging me to go. 

— You can go, I’ll come get you when we’re about to leave! 

With that said, I followed Zelda along a path full of flowers while the young one went in the opposite direction, back to his brothers. 

◇ 

It must have been around two in the afternoon when I returned with Wind to the place where I had landed with Sky before. Time had just run out, but I didn’t want to waste another minute. We’ve been standing still for a long time now. 

The time I spent with Zelda was great. Being close to another woman after all this time surrounded by men is indeed very good.  We had a long, quiet conversation, mostly about trivial topics; she seemed very interested in knowing what my life was like before and after the heroes’ arrival. The blonde woman was very nice and easy to talk to, and all my confidence seemed so silly when I thought about how well we got along. She wished me good luck when the Sailor came to pick me up, and we said goodbye with a friendly hug, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time we saw each other. Are all Zeldas like her? Unlikely, just as no two Links are the same. 

After we all checked that we had our belongings in place, our walk into nature began, at a calm pace as we got used to it again. 

— There isn’t exactly a place we intend to go to now, but we’ll keep looking for any sign of the Shadow around here. 

The Captain commented next to me and I just nodded in agreement. After so long without any sign of that thing, I was kind of afraid that we had lost its trail altogether, but I guess in the end you can’t really get rid of this sludge that permeates even people’s souls. 

I walked next to Wind, a little further behind most of the boys, at a peaceful pace. All the calm of the last few days was still very present in our not-so-small group, I think the realization that we were back on the dangerous and unpredictable adventure was sinking in veeeery little by little. 

Time started talking to Twi up ahead, it seemed like a serious discussion about what we should do next, in other words, nothing that I was really interested in at the moment.  It was while I was looking for something to distract me while we were walking that I remembered the chocolate bar I had in my pockets and a mischievous smile appeared on my lips. I took the candy as discreetly and quietly as I could, as if it were a secret mission that I had to do without the old man noticing – for some stupid reason that I can’t even explain, as if he were a teacher who would scold me for eating during class – being careful not to make any noise with the wrapper that the chocolate was in. 

With the greatest skill I could muster, I broke off two squares of the candy, putting one in my mouth and passing the other to Wind, without even looking at him, just nudging his arm so he would notice and take the candy – it almost seemed like I was trafficking something illicit to the brat. 

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the blond boy holding back a laugh as he took the candy and put it whole in his mouth, looking around to make sure no one noticed.  That’s when I looked back to see the Veteran and the Traveler holding back their laughter with somewhat begging faces. I had to hold back my own laughter when I realized that we had been caught and that there were now more buyers for my chocolate smuggling. I simply whispered a “do you want some?” to which they promptly nodded yes. 

I was careful again to break off two more squares and stretched my arm behind me so that they could take them without raising suspicion. I could hear the youngest of the group let out a snort as he tried with all his might not to laugh. After giving the intruding duo part of my beloved chocolate, I was ready to put it away again when Warriors approached me discreetly, shoulder to shoulder, and whispered to me. 

— Two pieces and I’ll be quiet. 

You scoundrel, wanting me to buy your silence. 

I rolled my eyes as I broke the chocolate bar again and passed the two squares to him, hiding it as much as possible. He just stuffed the candy in his mouth like the others did while the five involved in this chocolate trafficking scheme held back their laughter at how oblivious the other heroes were to our little inside joke. 

That’s when Time turned around, staring at us and making everyone burst out laughing at the same time, he looked at us with an intense gaze that made us look like we were a bunch of kids about to get a lecture from their father. But then he just waved for us to come closer in silence. 

We all gathered near the oldest to look at what was emanating a certain magical luminescence in the middle of the empty forest. A portal. There it was. Another portal waiting for us. And luckily, or not so luckily, it was empty. 

— But already!? We didn’t even have time to explore Sky’s Hyrule! — Wind complained, puffing out her cheeks childishly. 

— I suppose there’s not much of a choice, if a portal opened it’s likely that our target will be in the next while. We should go. 

With Time’s order, everyone began to organize themselves as we approached the portal, some complaints here and there, but in general everyone seemed to agree with the idea. We formed a sort of line to cross, with Four in front, Wars behind and me in the middle, strategically positioned. How convenient. 

— Let's go, there's no time to waste, the time for rest is over and work calls us. — The Old man spoke, ceasing any complaints that might have been left, and we began to pass through the portal. 

I looked one last time at the natural landscape of the first Hyrule, still so empty, but which I knew would one day become that great and prosperous kingdom, with a somewhat hopeful smile. It was good while it lasted, but I think this is goodbye. 

Now, where will our next stop be? 

[atlas-nsfw]

Anya and Irith

Ship: Anya x Irith (f!werewolf x tf!dragon) Tags: oral, double penetration, tgirl dick, breeding, heats Desc: Irith (t!fem dragon) a young dragon seeking to kidnap her first human as part of some draconic coming-of-age/mating tradition picks up a village girl. When she takes her back to her lair, however, she realizes she may have bit off more than she can chew. You see, that human girl, Anya, was a werewolf on her way out of the village as her heat was coming on. Dragons have excellent senses of smell so when Anya turns, Irith forgets all about using a pretty human to woo a dragon mate and instead decides the werewolf will do just fine. Comm from @thesanguinepaladin

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Anya shrugged on her cloak in the early morning hours, when the sky was still dark and only the farmer was beginning to wake. Her skin itched, a warm sensation running like a current just underneath— she knew well enough what it was. Most months of the year she could take care to control herself, to keep the wolf locked inside, but on occasion it grew too strong and lusty to be contained. This year the heat came upon her in early Spring.

When the woman stepped outside, her breath fogged. The cold was a good shock to the warmth inside her, but it wouldn't keep it at bay long. She would take the path out of the village and spend the next week in the wilds, eating and running like a beast until she regained her senses. She’d let slip to her neighbor the day before a fib about going to visit her sickly grandmother over the mountain. That little white lie would keep the rest of the villagers uncurious as to her whereabouts.

Anya started on her way, down the winding path along the empty fields, the soil turned for planting in the next few days. She kept her tail tucked under her skirt, twitching as she walked. The itching warmth in her gut was nauseating; she found herself grateful humans didn't have the nose to smell her.

A shadow passed over her and Anya looked to the sky just in time to see the dragon descending on her, claws open.

Irith began her morning with The Hunt. This wasn't a search for food, though. Irith was a young dragon who had just come of age and sought out her own territory. She picked a lovely cave on a mountain overlooking a valley and woods. Now, it was time for her to find a human maiden to attract herself a draconic mate. The Hunt was about this search for a human, proof that Irith would be a good mate who could take and hold a mortal effectively. It was a show of many skills: the first was that she could face off against humans without harm, the second was that she could care for something as fragile as an egg, and the third was that she had good taste. If she was to share a hoard with her future lover, she needed to prove they shared similar tastes. A cute human would do the trick.

Irith was in luck. She hadn't traveled far when she spotted a young woman on her way out of the village. The human was caught between two empty fields with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and no other humans around to be seen. The dragon nosedived down, opening her wings just as her talons wrapped gently around the mortal, then beat her wings hard and rose back up into the sky.

The human in her grip screamed as they surged forward. Irith had never held a human before, so it was surprising to see just how much fight the little thing kicked up. She felt sharp little jabs on her scales as the mortal thrashed about. What was even stranger was how the human seemed to grow larger and heavier as she flew on.

She glided down into her cave, glad to finally drop the squirming, violent human. When she turned, she was surprised to see not a mortal girl but a large, bipedal canine. The beast snarled, shaking off scraps of fabric. She had the same flame orange hair as the mortal girl, and Irith put two and two together. That girl had been no mere human, but rather a werewolf!

The initial shock waned quickly though, as Irith caught the wolf's scent. It was a sweet, intoxicating musk that pushed out any fanciful ideas of a pretty dragon mate. Irith stepped closer to the smell, ignoring how the wolf's fur fluffed up as she growled. Tail up, mouth watering… Irith could tell the beast was in heat. The smell of her filled the dragon's head with thoughts of rutting and egg-filled bellies.

Anya snapped and snarled, backed against the cave wall by the large, silver drake. What sour luck! Few things could threaten the life of a full-grown werewolf in heat, and a dragon was one of them. As the dragon lowered its head to her, Anya lashed out, swiping at its nose with her claw. It didn't break the scales, but the dragon did give pause at the hit.

Anya caught a glimpse of the exit just past the beast and decided to make a run for it. She dove under the monster, darting for the daylight.

-And was promptly stopped short as the dragon's tail wrapped around her, pushing her back against the wall. Anya let out a whine, the physical touch sending a wave of hot tremors through her body in a way she hadn't expected. The dragon lowered its head towards her again. Anya could have sworn she was done for, but the beast didn't bite. Instead, it pressed its smokey snout into Anya's belly fur, nuzzling and snuffling. Heat rose in the wolf again, and Anya made another lustful whine, squirming as her tail rose in anticipation. Was the dragon interested in another sort of meal, perhaps?

Anya wanted to cry out for the beast to stop, but the growing warmth felt too good to ignore. The dragon continued to sniff about, making sure to check every nook and cranny of Anya's body as she wiggled and whimpered. Anya gave one last light-hearted snap at the dragon before she rolled belly down and raised her hips.

The dragon's sniffing made its way to the source of her heat between her legs, gently nudging her now damp and puffy cunt. Anya felt the beast's snout press on her, followed by the overwhelming heat of its tongue. The long, red serpentine tongue slid between her folds, slathering it in the dragon's saliva. It made Anya tingle, mind buzzing. She let out a groan of approval, urging the dragon on.

The beast took the invitation without hesitation, pressing its tongue deep in Anya's hole. It was tight from disuse and the intrusion startled a sharp whine from her. She squirmed her hips as the dragon's tongue slid along her inner walls, twisting and twirling to take in the taste of her slick. Anya pressed her snout into the cool stone floor, panting with her tongue rolled out as the beast ate her out.

The dragon's tongue pushed against a particularly sensitive spot, sending a jolt through Anya. She yelped, twitching as her tail wagged. The beast took note and toyed with it. The hot dragon tongue rolled over the spot again and again until Anya howled in ecstasy, body shaking violently as she came.

Irith removed her tongue from the pretty orange pup, watching her slump onto the cave floor in a puddle of heat. The wolf whined and twitched between her moments of limpness, leaving Irith wanting her even more. The dragon moved over her, two red cocks slipping from her slit to rub against the now damp orange fur. She listened as the wolf whined beneath her, almost like she was begging. The sound was as music to Irith's ears.

She pulled her hips further back as hot precum spread on that lovely, soft fur. The tip of her lower cock caught on the wolf's now very messy cunt. Irith pressed inside, spreading the wolf open as Irith's upper cock rubbed over the top of her rear. Irith gave a low growl, feeling the wet warmth wrap around her member, squeezing more precum out of her. Slowly, inch by inch, she slid as deep as she could, disappointed to find the wolf couldn't quite take all of her.

Then she pulled back out, letting her upper cock catch on the wolf's less used hole. This time, as she pressed both in, completely filling the wolf, her new mate whined. Irith was pleased to hear there was pleasure in it. Irith sank deeper and deeper, going as far as she could before pulling back out until just her tip remained. She maintained these slow, easy thrusts as her wolf whined and groaned and twitched. Each time she pulled out, her wolf whimpered at the loss, making Irith want to keep her filled and happy once more.

Once the wolf could take her length with ease, Irith upped the pace, unable to hold back much longer. Each thrust caused her wolf to squeeze down around her cocks, prompting Irith to groan and growl in pleasure. Her hips drew back just to slam back inside. Each impact brought with it a fresh, hot musk heat . Irith loved that smell. She ducked her head down, nuzzling her werewolf to get a better sniff. It was rich and sweet and absolutely dreamy. She didn't think a dragon could ever compare.

She slid her tongue out, pressing it inside the werewolf's open maw to get a taste as she continued to fuck into her. Her tongue slipped right past those sharp canine teeth to twist up the wolf's flare tongue before sliding down her throat, happy with another hole to fuck and fill.

Anya's whimpers and moans were stifled by the seething hot dragon tongue filling her throat. She could barely move, not that she wanted to. Every second was filled with excruciating pleasure as the dragon's cocks spread her open and filled her up. Everything was so blindingly hot now. All she could think about was how badly she wanted to chase the pleasure. She was desperate for the dragon to hurry up and cum. She wanted it to fill her with its molten seed. The thought of that was enough to drive her mad.

She caught a glimpse of the exit from the corner of her eye, totally uninterested in leaving now. The sun had completely risen— how long had the beast been fucking her? She could have sworn she had cum at least twice by now onthe two engorged dicks. Then again, it didn't matter, did it? She would be content to cum another five, six, even seven times if she could stay speared on the dragon's cocks like this some more. The only thing she would change was the dragon not yet cumming.

Her wishing paid off, though. She felt the beast bulge inside her, pushing on her walls. Anya had never considered whether dragons might knot like wolves, but she was certainly glad they did. The two bulges pressed against each other, the dragon's ruts growing short but speeding up until they slammed as far as they could inside Anya's overstimulated holes, gushing that unbearably hot dragon seed inside her.

Anya could feel it push its way into her womb, filling it past the brink so it overflowed with nowhere to go. The knots locked it in, leaving Anya so stuffed her belly ached. She howled, the pleasure wiping her brain clean in that moment. She felt indistinguishable from the beast.

The cum didn't stop for a while, leaving Anya locked on the two knotted dicks of the dragon. She was left limp and utterly happy, blissed out from the thorough fucking she just recieved. This wasn't a bad way to spend her heat.

The dragon removed its tongue from her mouth first, licking over the fur on her head and neck. It was a pleasant and simple affection. Anya could have fallen asleep to it. But alas, the beast's knots died down and she slid off onto the hard floor first. Her holes gushed with the dragon's spend. Anya whined again. The ache in her belly may have been relieved but she felt so much more empty like this. Maybe… maybe after a short nap, she would present for the dragon and get filled again.

Irith tilted her head at the cum covered werewolf, watching as her body warped and shrank back into a human. She seemed so much smaller now, so fragile and cold. The dragon reached down, carefully gathering her new mate in her claws. She carried her to the nest in the back of the cave and settled around her. When the werewolf woke, Irith would ask her name. For now, she would let her sleep in peace.

[sophiasharp]

Man I don’t think we talk enough about the fact that in the wildly accepted fanon, the ghouls were like. Creatures pulled out of a primitive society full of bloodshed and danger. These guys were just chilling in hell, fighting for their lives every day like you do, and now they’re on Earth, expected to figure out Earth manners and technology and how the fuck anything works. I’ve been thinking about it, though. Let me walk you through my thoughts

THE GHOULS TRANSITIONING TO LIFE ON EARTH

Aether

- Bull in a China shop

- Big man has gotten very good at controlling his strength over the years. That control was NOT there at first.

- Bumped into fucking everything too. Dude’s used to being in the wide open abyss the quintessence ghouls occupy. Suddenly having to learn special awareness was. A hurdle of his.

- He broke a lot of tables. And chairs. And plates. Mugs. One Sibling’s arm. He got there eventually but Omega had to walk him through how fragile everything on Earth is compared to their ghoulish strength.

- Part of his habit of jumping up and down also comes from how different Earth is to his home environment. You mean you can go up and then you’ll come down again? Automatically? What a concept! Gravity is so much fun!

- Still gets some sense of novelty out of electric lighting. Being able to just. Make the dark go away? Whenever? Amazing.

- He keeps a night light on in his room. The last person to make fun of him for it mysteriously ended up with 3rd degree burns.

Dewdrop:

- Skittish little fucker

- Kinda like that one video of those weird crabs reacting to the diver

- Dew, poking at a toaster: Friend? Friend? Friend? Big noise! Scared! Scared! Scared! Scared! … Friend? Friend?

- Fucking LOVED blankets and coats and jackets and robes and honestly just anything that will keep him warm. He was used to the cold, sure, but if he had a choice between that and being cuddled under 5 different comforters, possibly with another ghoul for extra body heat? It wasn’t even a competition.

- Still had to often be reminded to wear clothes. “We’re in a hellish commune, does anyone really care about one ghoul being naked?” “It’s not so much the nakedness as much as the being out and about without your uniform.”

- Warm food blew his Fucking mind. Coming from the frigid arctic, whatever warmth you’d get from your food’s internal temperature was short lived. Microwaves? Ovens? Tea Kettles? Marvelous. Truly a gift from the Dark One

- Got REALLY into cooking. Dude is a wizard in the kitchen. Watched so many kitchen shows once he figured out how TV’s worked and started replicating the really fancy meals they were creating on screen with whatever he could find around the Abbey and what the kitchen staff were willing to give him. Now, whenever there’s a big occasion, he’s the one asked to oversee the food.

Mountain:

- weirdly calm and placid about everything despite not knowing how literally anything worked.

- Just casually curious about everything. Was always asking questions. Not in an annoying way, but just politely inquisitive.

- There was like a 50/50 chance he was actually listening to you at any given point in time. I mean, there are so many new sights, sounds, smells to experience! Can’t expect him to be 100% there when there’s still so much new splendor all around!

- If ever he was confronted with something new but no one was around to explain what it was, he would instead try to just. Figure it out on his own using his best judgement.

- This is how he once ended up straight up eating someone’s phone. This was very early on, mind you, but it was so smooth and shiny! And the precious metals inside were so tasty! He knows better now, of course. But there are some days where he’s tempted to give his ministry-issued smartphone a nibble…

- Figured out his love of gardening pretty damn fast considering that’s what he was originally summoned for. However, aside from tending to Primo’s garden, he found himself still going out to tend to the plants even in his free time. It’s calming to him, reminds him of home. When things get overwhelming, the plants are there to let him channel his worry into something producing.

- His first personal plant was a small pot of rosemary. He kept it in the window of his room and took *such* good care of it. It’s still there to this day, nestled among the other plants he’s accumulated of the years.

Swiss

- he is so excited about everything!!!!

- He has to be touching all the new things all the time! What does it do? How is it made?? Can he eat it??? A lot of things that were small enough went straight into his mouth. Copia needed to keep a spray bottle on him at all times to make sure he didn’t hurt himself.

- Of course, when he was around the other ghouls, he played it cool. Have to make a good impression on his new (and hopefully permanent) packmates after all. He reeeaaaally didn’t want get sent back to the pit so getting in good with the rest of the band was TOP priority!

- In fact that need to be liked was bordering on unhealthy and sort of sabotaged himself a bit. Acting all suave and cocksure when the entire rest of the band was on high alert does that.

- Most of the ghouls regarded him with a hefty amount of distrust at first- being the first summon of the new boss came with a LOT of baggage -but Cumulus saw straight through him. He was just a silly little guy! She became his first real friend amongst the pack.

- The two became menaces together, exploring the abbey and messing with shit they probably shouldn’t have. Primo’s garden was a favorite of theirs, much to Mountain’s chagrin.

- Was just SOOOO fascinated by this new body he’s been put in. Unlike most the other ghouls, he didn’t have a physical body he inhabited back in hell, only being given one when he was summoned to the surface. Flesh! If feels funny! What does this thing down here do-

Cumulus:

- was honestly kinda scared at first, what with the whole mood of the pack being out of wack.

- Apparently their new boss might have killed someone? That’s the guy that summoned them? Uh oh!

- Stayed glued to Cirrus in the beginning. Being summoned together meant having a strong built-in bond with each other, always having access to what the other is feeling. Being together offered a much-needed sense of comfort to Cumulus. Getting to spend time with a really pretty girl wasn’t bad either.

- Swiss was the one to bring her out of her shell, imbuing her with confidence through his own fake bravado. They came to rely on each other in that sense. When Cumulus was scared to do the things she wanted, Swiss would convince her of her capability. When Swiss was anxious and felt like a fraud, Cumulus would remind him of his sincerity.

- Was very curious about how her magic worked on the surface versus how it did in the pit. Back home, she was used to having to beat against the constant winds of the first layer of hell. Now that she’s on Earth, her powers are much more powerful than she ever expected them to be!

- LOVED textiles. She surrounded herself in all things soft and fluffy. Her bedroom (and most nights Cirrus’s as well) is just so Fucking cozy. Blankets and pillows everywhere. Her stuffed animal collection is unmatched. Will cry if even one of them ends up on the floor.

- Dew was the one to help her start her collection. To this day they are each other’s #1 cuddle buddies.

Cirrus:

- Stone cold badass front to hide how nervous she was.

- VERY protective of Cumulus in the beginning. She could feel how scared she was and felt the need to step up and protect the both of them from any threat this new environment may have… even if the perceived threat is a bit stupid.

- She once kicked in the washing machine cause it made a sound once it was done and it startled her. Not her proudest moment.

- Was almost OVERPROTECTIVE of Cumulus at first, even, doing even the simplest of tasks for her to prevent risk of injury. That was until she watched her kick a sibling straight in the nuts for making snide remarks about Cirrus in front of her. Cirrus had never fallen in love faster.

- Took a LONG while to warm up to the others. Constantly felt like she had something to prove, like she needed to show that she wouldn’t buckle under pressure. Everyone (but Cumulus) was a threat.

- Adores weather on Earth and how it isn’t just WIND 24/7. She loves all the different shapes of the clouds, how dark they get with moisture, the gentle snowfall or the needle-like rain. Really puts her at peace to be out on a rainy day

Rain:

- S C A R E D

- Everything is new and bright and cold and heavy and loud and- and- and-

- Yeah he barely left his room for a week, didn’t talk to anyone for anything. Not shy, necessarily, but just freaked the fuck OUT. They were starting to think he was nonverbal cause man refused to use his voice. In his defense, talking outside the water feels very different when you’re used to your vocal cords wiggling in water all your life.

- In my brain the first time he did speak was to Copia after he did his lil oopsie with the rest of the pack. It’s like a day later and Copia’s tryna plan how he’s gonna make it up to the ghouls when rain cornered him in a dark hallway, made direct eye contact, and in the softest voice went “I wouldn’t go near the lake if I were you. It’s hard to hear screaming underwater.” He then left a completely stunned and freaked tf out Copia standing alone in the hall like it never happened.

- He kinda regrets letting his first words on Earth be a threat now but the rest of the pack is flattered, although they do still sometimes tease him for it.

- Really started coming out of his shell when Dew made dinner for him. Dew was in the same shoes as him once and, although his relationship with the new water ghoul was complicated, he still felt obligated to help his new packmate adjust to life on Earth.

- Bro went through the trouble of showing Rain what every little thing in the kitchen did so he wouldn’t be scared to make his own food anymore, all while making him some grade A gourmet dining. Dew didn’t know it at the time but that’s when the heart-eyes started.

[elkian]

Something I noted in the Hobbit that's started to rear its head in Fellowship is this:

Tolkien, again and again, stresses the importance of resting.

You have to rest. You have to sleep. Danger is on the way, yes, but it isn't here yet and you'd be better off being rested for when it comes.

You have to recover. You're wounded/starved/traumatized, you need to rest. Both Bilbo and Frodo's early journeys include months-long stays in Elrond's house.

And you have to eat. Things look grim, and having a full belly won't stop that, but it will make you better-prepared to handle it. Bilbo's journey and company nearly die from starvation in the Mirkwood, to the point that being taken prisoner by an unknown nation was a better prospect.

And yeah we can point at Tolkien's personal experiences (though idk if it's quite the same for when the Hobbit was written), but he's not wrong. You have to rest. Staying up for days on end to face endless danger is a great line in an epic poem from ages past, but in the here and now, you are mortal and you need. to. REST.

I don't have the language for it at the moment (I'm overdue for dinner myself), but I love that an integral part of being capable of heroism is being fed and rested. That you have to take care of yourself if you want to get anything done, and when the characters take care of themselves, it's never to the exclusion of others. Elrond and Beorn and so many others break bread with the companies, Farmer Maggot finds trespassers and once pleasantries are out of the way, he feeds them and gives them a ride and gives them a snack for the road (which is also part of a big in-joke, because the work contains multitudes).

I keep thinking of the bit near the end of the Hobbit, where Bilbo's part in the company becomes perhaps the most crucial it's been because he wants to go home. He wants to sleep in his warm, dry, soft bed, and he wants to eat food that wasn't designed to stay 'edible' for months on end, and he wants a goddamn cup of tea!

And over and over I think about him turning over the Arkenstone, which he himself coveted, and he says, out loud, without subtext, that Thorin will sit on his pile of gold and starve to death if nothing changes.

Bilbo's ability to be surrounded by fabulous treasure, appreciate it, and then consciously decide that having basic creature comforts and his needs met are better than the potential-but-not-yet-extent wealth of mountains of gold. Bilbo is referenced in the Fellowship, at the beginning, as someone who often spends his money and gives gifts and enjoys good food, as hobbits are wont.

Hobbits are almost joke characters in the setting, in these epic tales, and that is their strength. The Hobbit is appropriately named, because the company would have been doomed multiple times over without Bilbo, even if he is embellishing his memoirs. Gandalf correctly identified that the company would need someone who could, with serious determination, say, "gold is great and all but it needs to be spent or it's worthless". He needs someone who, when faced with a cold tomb of treasure and a hearty meal, will choose the latter every time, even if there's some hesitation or puttering around with the treasures first.

Hell, Bilbo gave up The One Ring and he did it twice in the Fellowship alone - once at the birthday party, and then at Elrond's house. Yes, he did some dubious stuff to get it and when he had it, but the fact that he gave it up and managed to stick with that decision is honestly absolutely incredible when we see people like Gandalf, Galadriel, and more struggling to restrain themselves. Gandalf all but begs not to be offered it, because he does not consider himself strong enough to give it up, or at least not before causing immense harm (this is implied, anyhow; I'm listening to the radio play version so I need to go back and check the narration in the text later).

(Also, I think it was very important for Bilbo to have his Moment at the House of Elrond - because it scared Frodo. And I think that's what knocked Bilbo out of his fervor - looking into the face of his heir, ward, adopted child and seeing fear, and realizing he was the source of it, and the Ring was not worth that to him.

And Frodo had only twice worn the Ring til now - neither time willingly - and this is an excellent wake-up call. He sees his pleasant-if-odd guardian turn into something horrifying and alien, a monster that covets the trinket in his hand, and he knows now exactly how that happened.)

The Hobbits are such wonderful protagonists particularly because they're about as far from classic epic heroes as you can get. Thorin and Aragorn are having Heroic Returning King stories happening one step to the left of our focal characters, who are preoccupied with whether they'll be able to eat tonight. The Hobbits regularly lend both levity and pragmatism to the party, and there's something very funny about the amount of "I'll do it, you can't stop me from doing it, but I am going to complain the whole time" that I've seen come up in the Fellowship specifically, though it was definitely there in the Hobbit.

[thehypnone]

Sundown: Chapter 11

WC: 1,2K

Relationship: SwissAlps

Tags: AU; Cowboy!Swiss x Barmaid!Mountain, Transfeminine Mountain, Fluff, Date Gone Wrong, Shooting

Their conversations as they ride are light—as always—and every second spent just being with Mounty makes Swiss even more sure that what he’s planning on doing is right.

Notes: You might hate me for the next few chapters...

Playlist here. / Chapter 1 here or on AO3.

Read chapter 11 under the cut or on AO3.

It still feels like it was only yesterday that Swiss had stumbled into Mounty’s saloon, exhausted after a long journey and in desperate need for a drink. At the same time, though, it feels as if they’ve known each other for decades.

In reality, it has been a year. 

Nearly a year. Three hundred and sixty four days.

The anniversary is tomorrow and Swiss has things planned for them. He’s been an anxious mess about it for a few weeks now, getting support and encouragement from Dewdrop, Rain and Phantom. He just hopes Mounty hasn't figured his plan out considering it’s not their anniversary; that’s a few weeks later. He feels like he’s going to pass out from stress anyway.

They wake up as usual, limbs tangled together under a fluffy blanket, with Swiss’ head resting on Mounty’s chest. Right over her heart; he’s already memorized its rhythm. It’s his favorite music.

The barmaid is still sound asleep, blissfully unaware, and Swiss shifts with all the gentleness in the world so as not to wake her. He rolls over onto his side and rests his head on a bent arm, wanting to stare at her peaceful face for just a little longer. He could stare at her for hours on end, really, and not get bored. He’ll never get bored of her.

Mounty’s chest is bare, rising and falling steadily as she breathes, the blanket covering her from a belly button down; excluding a long leg thrown carelessly over the heap. There’s a perfectly twisted lock of auburn hair on her face, moving slightly with each breath she takes. It must tickle her a little bit, Swiss notes as he watches her nose twitch and scrunch up against the offending strand. He smiles and reaches to gently push it away so it can join the rest of her beautiful hair; spread all over the pillows like a bronze halo around her head.

Swiss watches her until she starts to shift, waking slowly. He leans down, then, and slots his lips against hers. He wants to pull back again to meet her eyes when she opens them, but instead he finds himself being pulled down by his shoulders.

“Mmm…g’morning, cowboy.”

Swiss laughs as he flops back down. This time he kisses Mounty with more purpose and she reciprocates.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

It’s a solid hour before they emerge from their room, having gotten dressed and ready for the day. They go downstairs, but not without stealing some more kisses on the way.

Once they’re down there, too, of course.

Swiss readies both horses himself when the barmaid is taking care of preparing tea down in the saloon. Then he jumps over to Rain’s pub to grab their breakfast having planned it with the other man in advance.

“Here you go,” Rain smiles at him, handing him a basket full of gloriously smelling steaming food. “Good luck, cowboy.”

“Why, thank you,” he chuckles, though it’s hard to conceal his nervousness. “By the way, my gun’s gonna stay upstairs.”

Rain’s not sure why it’s important for him to know that, but he nods in acknowledgment anyway, before waving the man goodbye. Back in the saloon, Mounty finishes brewing their tea. “Brought some goodies, sweetheart.”

The barmaid hums in approval at the delicious smell and grabs a few plates. Swiss tries not to think about his plan as they eat, but it’s incredibly hard when Mounty looks at him with nothing but love in her eyes. What on earth did he do to deserve her?

It feels like a mere blink of an eye between them waking up and hopping up onto Monty and Taika. Swiss leads them down the main road and out of Sundown; it’s easy for Mounty to guess where it is that they’re going with there not being many spots worth spending time at around. One of them is a rather small, but exceptionally beautiful and peaceful grove just on the outskirts of the little town. It’s an amazing place full of big old trees, hundreds of flowers and singing birds.

Their conversations as they ride are light—as always—and every second spent just being with Mounty makes Swiss even more sure that what he’s planning on doing is right.

If Swiss can be sure of one thing in the world, it’s that they’ve been made for each other.

They hop back down once the ground below their horses’ hooves turns from dry sand to a soft forest ground covered in leaves, bark, flowers and branches. The cowboy takes Taika from his girl and loosens both horses’ girths so they can graze on some grass here and there. When he turns back to Mounty he can’t help but gasp.

She looks like a goddess surrounded by the rich greens of a forest in full bloom. With her hair down and her dress flowing around her equally gracefully as she walks and looks around the breathtaking place.

She is breathtaking.

Swiss can’t wait a second more.

He shoves one of his clammy hands into his pocket, squeezing a little box waiting in there. Mounty doesn’t seem to notice, focused on taking in the landscape.

The cowboy pulls his hand and the box out and gets down on one knee.

He clears his throat and Mounty turns to him with confusion in her eyes. “Swiss, what are you–”

“Sweetheart, you are everything I ever wanted in life and more. You gave me back purpose, made me a better man and showed me that even though the night can be dark and scary, the sun is always going to rise again and chase the evil away. I’m eternally grateful for all you are and all you do.”

Swiss opens the little box to reveal a beautiful ornate ring.

“Mounty, love of my life,” he says and it’s just now that what he’s about to do really hits the barmaid. She gasps and presses a hand against her mouth as tears well up in her eyes. “Will you do me the honor of–”

He doesn’t get to finish the question as chaos is unleashed.

What was supposed to be one of the happiest moments of their life becomes a blur of terrified screams, agitated horses and the ground shaking.

Shots start flying out of nowhere, Swiss feels pain slashing across his arm and he falls back before he can jump in to protect his girl. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Mounty’s mare rear and buck before falling down as she gets shot. There’s no time for the man to process what’s happening before Taika knocks the barmaid down in her panic, too, and Mounty cries out in pain when her legs give out under her on the uneven ground.

Swiss scrambles to get up and run for her, tripping over roots. Too blinded by fear for her safety, he doesn’t notice the barmaid shaking her head and gesturing for him to turn around.

“Swiss, behind you!” she yells in warning with a hurt voice, but it’s too late. Sharp pain blooms from the back of the cowboy’s head and everything goes dark.

[thecreaturecodex]

Xiangliu

Image © deviantArt user YunaXD, accessed at her gallery here

[Sponsored by @coldbloodassassin. The xiangliu appears in Guideways through Mountains and Seas as an individual, Xiangliu, who is the minister of the malevolent water god Gonggong. I did consider making it a native or even extraplanar outsider because of that, but ended up going with aberration to stress its connection to nagas. Not that nagas are very aberrant as far as aberrations go...]

Xiangliu CR 14 NE Aberration This creature is an oversized serpent with nine heads and slime coating its scales. Its heads are disturbingly humanoid, but still bear fangs and forked tongues.

Xianglius are sadistic water serpents that delight in spreading disease and stagnant water. They are native to swampy lands, and fight violently against any attempt to drain such swamps or make them suitable for cultivation. Nearby fields are likely to be subject to their attacks, including flooded crops, summoned clouds of malarial mosquitoes and fouling wells and springs. Xianglius sometimes find allegiances with evil druids, daemons of pestilence and famine, or even gods of water who are hostile to civilization.

A xiangliu rarely hesitates to fight. Their bites are not fully venomous, but carry a foul slime that renders creatures bitten weak and queasy. They can spit jets of water with lethal force, and often split their attacks, biting creatures up close while barraging enemies that are more distant. Fighting a xiangliu is often quite frustrating, as the monsters create moats of mud and water to slow anyone approaching on foot, and can manipulate water to isolate and capsize boats. Wise adventurers approach a xiangliu’s lair from the air.

Despite their nine heads, a xiangliu has only one personality; peevish, cruel and sadistic. They are notorious gluttons; one legend is that they have nine heads in order to eat nine different meals at the same time. A xiangliu grows to about twenty feet long. Their lifespans are measured in centuries.

Xiangliu              CR 14 XP 38,400 NE Large aberration (aquatic) Init +6; Senses all around vision,darkvision 60 ft., Perception +22, scent

Defense AC 29, touch 15, flat-footed 23 (-1 size, +6 Dex, +14 natural) hp 190 (20d8+100) Fort +13, Ref +15, Will +16 DR 10/magic; Immune acid, disease, poison, sickness and nausea effects; SR 25

Offense Speed 30 ft., swim 40 ft. Melee 9 bites +20 (1d6+4 plus sickening slime) Ranged 9 water jets +20 (1d8 bludgeoning plus push) Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. Special Attacks combined arms, mud wave, push (5 ft.) Spell-like Abilities CL 15th, concentration +20 (+24 casting defensively) At will—contagion (DC 18), putrefy food and drink 3/day—control water, insect plague 1/day—plague storm (DC 21), transmute rock to mud

Statistics Str 19, Dex 23, Con 20, Int 18, Wis 19, Cha 20 Base Atk +15; CMB +20; CMD 36 (cannot be tripped) Feats Blind Fight,Combat Casting, Combat Reflexes (B),Deadly Aim, Great Fortitude, Improved Critical (bite), Lightning Reflexes, Point Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Skill Focus (Stealth), Weapon Finesse Skills Acrobatics +22, Climb +20, Heal +18, Intimidate +21, Knowledge (arcana, geography) +18, Knowledge (nature) +20, Perception +22, Sense Motive +17, Spellcraft +20, Stealth +24, Swim +28; Racial Modifiers +2 Perception Languages Aquan, Common, Draconic SQ amphibious, improved swamp stride, multiheaded reflexes

Ecology Environment any swamps and aquatic Organization solitary Treasure standard

Special Abilities Combined Arms (Ex) When using a full attack action, a xiangliu can divide its nine attacks up between bites and water jets. Improved Swamp Stride (Su) A xiangliu can move without penalty through natural or magically manipulated mud, water, or vegetation native to swamp environments. Insect Plague (Sp) When a xiangliu uses its insect plague spell-like ability, it summons mosquito swarms instead of wasp swarms. Mud Wave (Su) As a standard action, a xiangliu can create a burst of mud and water in a twenty foot radius centered on itself. All creatures in the area take 14d6 points of bludgeoning damage and are knocked prone. A DC 25 Reflex save halves the damage and negates the prone effect. The area affected by the mud wave becomes difficult terrain for the next minute. A xiangliu can use this ability three times per day, but must wait 1d4 rounds between uses. The save DC is Charisma based. Multiheaded Reflexes (Ex) A xiangliu gains Combat Reflexes as a bonus feat. It can make as many attacks of opportunity in a round as it has heads. Sickening Slime (Ex) A creature bitten by a xiangliu must succeed a DC 25 Fortitude save or be sickened for 1 round. Failing additional saves increases the duration of the sickened effect by 1 round per save failed. The save DC is Constitution based. Water Jet (Su) A xiangliu can spit water from one of its mouths as a standard action, and up to all nine as a full attack. Treat each water jet as a ranged attack from a projectile weapon with a range increment of 20 feet. Attacks with water jets do not provoke attacks of opportunity. A creature struck by a water jet takes 1d8 points of bludgeoning damage and is exposed to the xiangliu’s push attack.

[siravalondulac]

this is what i tell the world at the end, full of pride [part one of three] | j. snow x fem!oc

part 6⅓ of the modern!holiday au

summary: pride month, jon realises, is the perfect opportunity to discover some things about himself.

contents: modern au, pride month, smut (sex toys, cunnilingus, non-graphic mentions of other stuff), kink discussion

words: 3412

author's note: HAPPY PRIDE EVERYONE!! i will post four chapters of the modern au this month because i am insane and mentally unwell and my only source of happiness are jon and cerelle. new chapters every friday, so mark your calenders

tag list: @sunraysoverthevalley @idohknow @sammybirdseed

masterlist

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Guinevere hates him.

Cerelle tells him he should not be too disappointed by it, because apparently she dislikes everyone besides her. Which is understandable - he loves his girlfriend as well - but it means he is involved in a silent stare-off every time he sits beside Cerelle on her couch or sleeps beside her in her bed.

His girlfriend thinks it’s funny.

He takes this as his reminder as to why he doesn’t like cats.

It's a small price to pay, all things considered, for being able to spend time with his girlfriend. He still has to work insane hours at the car shop, but at least now he has something to look forward to during the day. Whether that is him sleeping at her place, Cerelle at his, or simply a one hour phone call before they go to sleep.

Now that his apprenticeship is official, he tries to get back into studying. He has never had much trouble with it, but just to be safe.

His girlfriend - he always smiles when even thinking the word - offers her help readily. She hands him some of the texts she has to read for university, then quizzes him on them. She makes him write a letter to his mum to get his hand used to the feeling again, and even buys him a training book on accounting.

“Do I really need that? I'm becoming a mechanic, not a secretary.”

“Accounting is a mandatory course in every trade school. Once you graduate, you'll be allowed to open your own shop, and they want to make sure you can handle the business side of it as well.”

He does appreciate her for it, even if he tries to be grumpy.

At least he isn't studying law, because the mountains of books Cerelle brings home every day genuinely frighten him. She often sits until long after sunset at her dinner table to write papers and assignments, every day a new one it seems, and frequently despairs over them.

One night, when she was close to throwing her laptop across the room, he had picked her up, laid her down on the table, and eaten her out until the only word spilling across her lips was his name.

She repaid him a few days afterwards, of course.

Through all those weeks with her, he has slowly started feeling… not just happier, but stronger and more energetic as well. He wants to blame it squarely on Cerelle's presence, yet he knows it's the food.

The past few years, all he ever had to eat were a bit of bread in the morning and then pasta with nothing for dinner. He couldn't afford more, and even still most of the money from the car shop goes into paying off his outstanding rent, leaving him with so little at the end of the month.

But now he spends a lot of time at his girlfriend’s apartment, where she has given him access to her entire kitchen and pantry. Whenever he feels hungry, he can simply open the fridge and take something out of it without the fear of wasting anything. It's a luxury he thought he would never again be afforded to have.

He doesn't take anything with him, despite how tempting it looks, despite how much his eerily empty cabinets haunt him. The exception is when Cerelle and him make dinner together - then she forces the leftovers into his hands, no argument allowed.

He can tell seeing his situation hurts her. Knowing she could solve all his problems with a simple snap of her fingers must eat her up from the inside. But she holds back.

Maybe she simply doesn't want him to become dependent on her. Maybe there is still this simmering fear in her that he is only with her for her money. Maybe she is embarrassed of what she has.

He doesn't mind, yet also cannot seem to find a way to tell her that.

A funny side-effect of him eating more is that he now lasts longer in bed. He can fuck Cerelle longer without the constant, desperate need to cum, he can properly slam into her without being out of breath after only a few minutes, and he can eat her out until she almost falls unconscious from the amount of times he makes her peak - all without taking a break.

She clearly appreciates it.

Yet what she seemingly appreciates more is that his body is filling out, if slowly. Wider arms, broader chest, stronger legs - she cuddles into him each night they are together, her fingers gently tracing his naked skin.

He once expresses concern he will grow fat if she continues to feed him so much, upon which she chuckles and asks if that would be so terrible.

“I will love you no matter what you look like, but if you are truly so concerned you are free to use my gym.”

Because of course she has a gym in her apartment.

He says apartment.

What he means is an entire abandoned factory Cerelle has bought and converted into her home.

The ground floor is almost empty, merely housing a car, her motorcycle, and a bike, but it’s clean and not giving away anything about the place’s owner.

The first floor is where everything else is located - from her bedroom and kitchen to a giant walk-in closet and a library. Standing on the inside, one would never assume what this place originally was.

Cerelle was quite proud of it when she had first showed him around, excitedly telling him of every renovation she had done herself, every improvement to the building's layout, every room she had furnished herself. She even had an elevator installed in an effort to make the building wheelchair accessible. When asked why, that she herself doesn't need it and never invites anyone over that could need it (beside her mother and grandfather, he is the only other person that knows where she lives), she responded, “But what if I do need it someday? What if I do invite someone over someday that will need it? Best to be prepared than be forced to make crappy and hasty additions later on.”

She still sometimes drops random fun facts about her home throughout the day. He always smiles hearing them.

All this is why he still calls it her apartment - house does not quite fit, and factory is too demeaning. And all this is also why he grows a bit concerned when she puts up a rainbow flag outside of her window at the beginning of June.

“Won’t people get suspicious?”

“I’ve been doing it ever since I moved in here,” she answers with a smile. “It’s also pretty clear this place is not vacant. And if I can make even one person feel more secure in their identity, then it was worth it.”

“So you’re not…”

“No, I am. I’m pansexual. Sorry for never mentioning it.”

He tries not to look too confused, yet clearly doesn’t manage.

“Sorry,” she chuckles. “It means I am attracted to people regardless of gender. It's similar to bisexuality.”

“So you're attracted to everyone.”

This time she laughs out loud, yet it's not mean or demeaning. “No, not everyone. I have my types as well, otherwise I would have never fallen in love with you. It's more that I can theoretically fall in love with anyone.”

He watches the flag outside wave in the wind. “How did you… How did you find out? That you're pansexual.”

“I think… I was confused my whole life. The environment I grew up in had strict ideas of what was right and what was wrong, what was acceptable to be. So I never realised my attraction to girls for what it was until I was older, and far removed from my past for the first time. And when I read about pansexuality for the first time, it felt right. It felt like me. It felt as if I finally had an answer to the question that has been following me all my life.”

He considers her words on the bus ride home.

It does not bother him that she has had female lovers in the past - she is his girlfriend now, and just because she is theoretically attracted to one hundred per cent of the human population instead of fifty doesn't make him more insecure in their relationship.

No, it’s something different.

What she said… He has felt that as well.

Not to this extent, of course, and he is sure that had he ever come out as gay his mum would have been fiercely supportive - not that he would have, he is quite clearly attracted to women, Cerelle herself is proof of that - but…

There may have been one or two boys in middle or high school that he had looked at for longer than usual. That he had found prettier than any of the girls around him. That he had never dared talk to for reasons he never figured out.

Perhaps… Perhaps there had been something more to those moments. Perhaps he had not simply been shy or awkward or jealous, as he had forced himself to believe back then, but had rather been attracted to them.

It would certainly explain a lot.

And yet… He doesn’t want to agonize endlessly over this. If he begins going down this rabbit hole he knows his anxiety will never allow him to reemerge. So as he enters his apartment and closes the door behind himself, he makes something to himself very clear: Yes, there is a chance he is attracted to men. But he has Cerelle right now - the most beautiful, wonderful girlfriend he could have ever wished for - and as long as this relationship still stands, as long as he has a future with her, there is no need to think about someone else. Even if that someone else is a mere hypothetical.

He has all he needs. And that is enough for now.

“We should probably talk about our kinks at one point.”

He almost flushes as red as a tomato in an instant, and wants nothing more than to hide his face in the colourful couch cushions around him. Somehow, even after over a month into this relationship, he is still taken off guard by how easily Cerelle is able to talk about sex and intimacy. She treats it as if it is the most normal thing in the world - as if she is talking about the weather. It’s… admirable, in a sense.

“Uh, yeah. I- Uh-” He shuts his mouth as soon as he realises he is stammering, swallows, and takes a breath. “How would… we do that?”

She smiles, and shifts on the couch so she can look at him better. “Well, start by telling me your kinks.”

“I don't have any,” he says quietly.

“None?” She laughs. “Somehow, I refuse to believe that. But alright, then at least tell me what you like and dislike about sex.”

He takes another deep breath, and tells himself to remain calm.

“I- I like when I'm able to look into your eyes. I like touching you and feeling close to you and kissing you as we do it. I like how you fall apart for me when I go down on you. And I like the time afterwards, when we are both exhausted and fall asleep in each other's arms.” He considers whether to even say this next thing, yet eventually adds, “I also like when you go down on me as well. It's- It feels different.”

She grins. “I'm really good at it, am I?”

He nods, and almost lets out a sigh of relief. For some reason he still feels guilty whenever he asks her for a blowjob, still faintly hearing Ygritte’s voice in his head about how demeaning it is for a woman. But Cerelle doesn't seem to mind - in fact, she seems to revel in making him fall apart this way.

“Now you,” he says. “What do you like?”

“I like being able to ride you when I'm sitting in your lap. I like being able to make you moan and whine and squirm. I like when you take complete care of me and refuse to let me raise even a finger. I liked that time you ate me out in the shower. I like when I'm able to show I love you, and have you immediately reciprocate.”

He wonders how much of what she likes comes from years and years of experience, and how much she has gained because of him. Because she was able to be vulnerable with him.

“Now for your dislikes,” she says.

Previously, he would have never dared express his displeasure with anything, too scared of offending someone or ruining his relationship with them. But with Cerelle, the words roll off his tongue without much trouble.

“I don't like being taken advantage of, or being taken for granted. I don't like if my body is simply being used as if I don't exist.”

His girlfriend's smile turns so incredibly sad, he wishes he had never said a thing.

“Now you.”

Her lip trembles. “Don't leave any lasting marks. Hickeys are okay, as well as small bites, but nothing else. And don't start sexual acts unless we've talked about them before, and you know for absolute certain I am okay with them.”

He nods. What else is there to do in such a situation? What else is there possibly to say?

They talk for what feels like an eternity after that. Not just about sex and kinks - he apparently likes being praised, she tells him - but about everything surrounding those topics as well. Places they are okay with intimacy, what kind of intimacy in which situations, love languages, safe words.

She tells him her periods are very irregular, so not to get concerned when they have sex seemingly every day for a month without a problem, but that they almost tear her apart in pain and agony when they do come.

She has also tried half a dozen types of birth control and contraceptives, and her body tolerated none of them.

“I fear we have to use condoms until the end of time.”

“That's alright,” he says. “I don't mind them.”

Still, she promises to buy them with her own money so he can spend his on rent and utilities.

They agree to get tested for STDs, just to be safe. They hand each other spare keys to their apartments. They are both allowed to put the other down as their emergency contact should they ever be admitted to the hospital (considering his mum lives on the other end of the country and her parents are always busy).

“We didn't talk about toys.”

“What?”

“Toys. Sex Toys. Are you alright using them during sex?”

He had been glad over the slow change in topic - shifting from bedroom talk to general intimacy to actual important health questions - because it allowed him to get his boner at least a little under control. But this-

“M- Maybe? I think.”

“Are there any you do not want to use at all?”

“I don't even know all the kinds there are.”

“That's alright.” She smiles and reaches out her hand. “Come, I'll show you what I have.”

His girlfriend guides him towards her bedroom, stops in front of the cupboard, and opens one of the drawers. Inside are, neatly lined up, things of several different shapes and sizes. Some, like the dildos, he recognises, and most other things he is able to guess their use of, like the vibrators and the long silken bands that are either blindfolds or restraints.

“I don't really have a lot.” Cerelle's fingers trace the lines of his hand. “But if you ever think of anything else you'd like to try, I can of course buy it.”

The mere sight of whatever is before him is already heating up his cheeks - how would he ever be able to request his girlfriend for more?

“You can ask if you have any questions,” she says. “Or if you don’t recognise something.”

He takes a deep breath, reminds himself he loves his girlfriend and she him, and that neither would ever laugh at the other.

“What are these?” He points at something, not really quite brave enough to pick them up.

"These are butt plugs. Two of them are able to vibrate.”

“Why?”

“Because it's pleasurable.” She chuckles. “Trust me, you will never cum quicker than when you and your partner both wear these. We can try it, if you're ever up for it.”

“So you…” He takes a breath, and reminds himself he is grateful his girlfriend is making him jump over his own shadow so often. It's what he needs. “So you enjoy anal? I heard it's only really something for men.”

“Anal can be enjoyable for anyone, if you know what you're doing, and use enough lube of course. And that applies to people of all genders.” She grins as she adds with a slightly lowered voice, “So if you’re ever in the mood for it, be my guest.”

His breath hitches, her words sending even more blood down to his rock-hard dick.

“And what's that?”

“That's a strap. It's so I am able to fuck you.”

She smiles so brightly he cannot help but grow jealous of the previous people she has experienced all these things with, no matter how wild what she just said was.

“How?” He almost chokes on the word.

“I mount one of these dildos to it and strap it to my waist. And then I lay you down on the mattress and take you as slowly and gently as if you were a fair maiden.” She smiles at seeing his face. “Don't worry, my love. If you don't feel up for it we never, ever have to do it.”

To have his girlfriend kneel above him, cradling his face as she thrusts into him deeper and deeper-

“Show me how to use this.”

He presses one of the vibrators into her hands.

For the shortest moment, she looks confused. “On myself?”

He quickly nods. “Show me what you do when I am not around.”

His girlfriend grins, presses a kiss to the back of his hand, and quickly lets her skirt and underwear drop to the ground before sitting down on the edge of her bed.

It’s not all too different from when he is pleasuring her (either with his tongue, fingers, or dick). She still gasps at first contact, her lips still tremble the longer it goes on, she still drops her head back and bears her throat to him. Only the buzzing of the vibrator pressing against her clit is different.

She is cute like this. Captivating, the way she tries to fight so hard against falling apart before him. Even if she so perfectly knows what she is doing. Both to herself, and to him.

He just stands by the still open cupboard, doing little but staring at his perfect girlfriend pleasuring herself in front of him, all the while he desperately tries to ignore his weeping cock.

Cerelle looks at him suddenly, her blue eyes burning like fire. Then a nasty moan takes hold of her and she falls backward onto the mattress, baring herself to him.

And something about that sight - her juices trickling down her cunt and dropping onto the mattress - rips him out of his trance. He falls to the ground before her, hastily pushes the vibrator away, and latches his lips to her clit.

She doesn't last long afterwards. Her back arches off the bed as her legs clamp around his head, pressing his face further into her and forcing him to swallow all she gives him.

He likes it. Is thankful for it. Yearns to never have to leave.

They kiss like two people starving afterwards, all tongue and teeth and desperation seeping into their embrace. But when her fingers are about to close around the bulge in his pants, he quickly takes ahold of her wrist.

“Don't even think about it, my love,” he whispers against her mouth. “I still owe you two after this, I don't want to make it three again.”

He feels her grin against his lips. “I'll simply use the vibrator on you next time. You will never be able to repay what I do to you then.”

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author's note: bi jon is canon in every universe send tweet

[drconstellation]

Goats, Crows and The Flood

Or why Crowley turns the goats into crows in the Job minisode

If you're reading that and thinking "eh, what's the Flood got to do with it?" then read on. It wasn't done just so Crowley got to change his name. It's never as simple as that. C'mon now, this is the GOmens AU, I'm not going to write a meta about something like this and not give you at least three if not four layers as to why, now, am I? Certainly not, and this one won't be any different.

Recently I picked up a book that has been sitting for far too long on a pile near my kitchen that needs sorting through called Parallel Myths* and in it is a section on Flood myths. (It's got lots of other good bits as well, but the Flood myths are what I want to talk about here.) The Flood is a wide-spread myth, with stories all around the world from India, to the Greek myths, to the Incas and Aztecs and in North America as well.

There are four stories that include crows as messengers who are sent to look out for land. The first is our familiar bible story. Oh, did you miss that bit? Yeah, I know, you keep getting told about the dove that represents the holy spirit that came back with the olive branch. Why would they want to tell you about a dirty old crow? And why is that crow dirty anyway? Ah, hold that thought...we'll come back to that shortly.

Another very famous story that include a crow being sent out to look for land after a great Flood is in the epic story of Gilgamesh. While on a journey Gilgamesh meets an old man named Utnaptishtim who tells the hero how he survived a great flood by building a boat after being warned by the gods to do so, and then floating for several days before coming to rest on a mountain top. At first he sent out a dove, but the dove returned. Then he sent out a swallow, but the swallow returned also, so he knew there was no land yet. But the third bird he sent out was a crow, and it didn't come back, so Utnaptishtim knew it was finally safe to leave.

There are also crows mentioned in two North American Flood myths, with the Cree and the Algonquin, and in both stories they are also sent to look out for land.

So why am I telling you this? Because of this:

Which is, as we know, is a bit of a play on words, but it establishes the association between the ungulate offspring and the human offspring when we run into the next occurrence of the innocent being killed on the Almighty's fickle whim in the Job minisode in S2. And we know our favourite demon is just not going to take that lying down that without some kind of protest.

So after delivering his open monologue to the goats, which gives an insight into himself, then being confronted by Aziraphale, and revealing he has a permit, from the Almighty Herself, no less, he turns Job's goats into crows.

(And if you've missed the bit about why the goats, and not the sheep, which the archangels kept going on about, its because sheep were seen as more "Christian" as the rams were considered faithful to their ewes, as good followers should be, but goats were observed to just do it with any-nanny, with no sense of commitment, if you get what I mean, so they were considered more "demonic" in nature.)

The bible seems to have a bit of a love-hate relationship with birds. On hand they can be used for food or sacrifices, on the other hand they are metaphorical demons! There is an association made between "birds of the air" and demons, waiting to pick off the weak (of thought) and young before they can be enfolded into the "safety" of the church.

Even the noble eagle is frowned upon in a way, as it eats carrion, or rotting meat. And that is something ravens and crows are known to do as well. This eating of dead animals, and humans on the field on the ancient battlefield, led crows to be associated with death and the afterlife, and by extension, transformation from one form to another.

(I can't help thinking at this point about the Sandman's assistant crow helper that travels between worlds, but also I've written a couple of metas about both Crowley and the Bentley being facilitators for the crossing of thresholds between different worlds.)

If you've ever had a close association with a crow or two- and I have, over several years, they can be wily opponents! - you come to respect their intelligence and adaptability, no matter how they might be frustrating you! **

The raven is also mentioned in the Book of Job 38:41

Who provideth for the raven his food? when his young ones cry unto God, they wander for lack of meat.

We didn't hear this line delivered to Job during the minisode, though we certainly heard some of the other lines from verses 38 and 39 that come before and after it. God is in the middle of telling Job about the universe, the earth and the creatures upon it, and how She looks after them. The line Jimbriel speaks about the morning stars all singing together is Job 38:7, for example. Just before mentioning this loathsome bird, She mentions that most noble of animals, the lion. But look, She also cares about ugly croaking raven fledglings that seem to get kicked out of the nest as soon as they can fly. How do they fend for themselves? It is seen as the mercy of God that she provides for each of the creatures of the Earth, both the lion and the raven. (Well, there's some interesting metaphorical links riiiight there...I hope I don't need to spell them out....)

So where are we? We've gone from a crow being a messenger for Noah, to kids/goats from the Flood scene in S1E3, to demon-associated goats being transformed into demon-associated crows in the Job minisode in S2E2, just before Job's human kids are saved from destruction by being transformed into geckos - which is also a significant symbolic creature for resurrection (which I explain in another meta.)

You know, I wouldn't be at all surprised if we loop back for a longer look at the Flood in S3. Kids, crows, a transformative experience...

Va-va-voom, here we come!

*Parallel Myths by J. F. Beirlein (1994) A Fascinating look at the common threads woven through the world's greatest myths - and the central role they have played through time. ISBN 0-345-38146-7

**I know there are corvids all around the world, and they can be shy, important birds in the ecosystem but here in Australia they can also be big bullies who know they are bigger than the other birds and throw their weight around accordingly and then do gross stuff like dirty up the backyard bird bath by finding discarded sandwiches and dog bones or even Lego blocks and drop them in to "soften" them for later consumption and just leave a filthy mess there for everybird else. yyyiikkk.

[shrimplymoray]

I'm without internet but fuck it, TWSTumblr hear me out on this one.

I see a lot of people Hc Jade as autistic and Floyd with ADHD and although both r amazing Hcs, I can't help but remember just how entangled with genetics those are.

So... AuDHD TWEELS

First reasoning for this is that those r really entangled with genetics, and since the twins are identical twins that meant that they were a single embryo that sit up into 2 people (per human logic, not considering how merfolk might work in this specific case).

Second: Although Jade fits into a lot of autistic traits and Floyd ADHD ones, some autistic and ADHD traits overlap each other in certain areas. And it is quite tricky to nail down which one one has, specially considering that only on recent studies and research did people actually understood that 1 person can have both.

Jade AND Floyd both show high, long lasting interest in specific topics. Jade's being Mountains and Mushrooms, while Floyd is fashion, more focused on the shoes aspect, and seemingly cooking. I don't think it is a stretch to say how he enjoys cooking, since it it almost feels second nature how much he knows about it and can deduct or do with that skill with ease. (We can see how good he is at deducting what to do food wise on his Culinary Crucible vignettes).

Both shows deep emotional knowledge but a sort of disconnection to their own emotions, something that I as an Autistic person can say 100% fits the criteria. Jade is very good at reading others emotions, but can be noted as detached when it comes to showing this to others, which he clearly uses to his advantage to seem polite and as approachable as he can be. Floyd on the other hand, is very in tune with others emotions (tho most times he doesn't put them into consideration), and is relatively good at expressing his owns although in a very intense way, but he lacks the self control and self preservation skills, noted by his rather bluntness when saying what he wants and also how he doesn't hold back from dropping whatever he doesn't want to anymore in a blink of an eye.

Jade is particularly noted to eat a lot, and as much as people do the canibal Jade theory, that can be just a form of anxiety reducing mechanism, much like stimming. More common in the ADHD aspect in my experience, some people may need multiple sensory inputs to keep themselves grounded in during a taxing day or task. For Floyd, since he does seem to have a deep interest in cooking, at least more than Jade in my view, his relationship with it is very much involving expanding his horizons. He doesn't seem to have a particular problem with texture, flavours, appearance or smell, but he does have a problem with things being too much of the same, and so repeating dishes a lot of doing something straight out the recipe feels taxing and boring. His way of dealing with food is by making something different to keep even the same ever dish interesting. (Again for proof of this, his Culinary Crucible vignettes are a great way of understanding this side of his.)

I can go on more and more, but I don't want to use all my data for a singular post.

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

land softly

Summary: Ghost & Soap are snowed in at a bed & breakfast. Fleabag voice: This is a love story. Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

Part 2 - Johnny performs a chore

When Johnny opens his eyes in the morning, he checks the time (0600), whips his head towards the bay window for a quick inspection (pure, blinding, snow white), and then groans.   The weather app on his phone confirms what he’d suspected: there’s no way he’s making it to Glasgow—he’s not even making it out of Yorkshire.

But he does need to figure out his situation at the inn, and groans aloud at the idea of convincing the grumpy innkeeper to let him stay another night.  Two, if the horrid weather persists.

His unasked question is answered when he ambles his way down to the kitchen at 0700, freshly showered, and the masked fella’s already there cooking streaky bacon.  The table’s been set for two and the smell of fresh coffee entices Johnny to take (what he thinks) are sneaky steps, but he gets caught out anyway.

“Morning,” the grump mutters, and Johnny carefully returns the greeting.  “Can’t leave in this weather, can ya, mate?”

“Uh…”  

“It’s fine,” the man mutters.  “I ain’t goin’ anywhere either, looks like.”  He turns around and motions to the empty chair.  “Sit.  Eat,” he orders, brusquely, and sets a full English in front of Johnny.

Johnny can’t help but wonder about the abrupt 180 in the giant’s mood from the previous evening, but he lets it go, considering he’s being fed a mighty big breakfast.  He’s shovelling eggs into his mouth with all the gentle decorum of a mountain bear pre-hibernation, when the giant takes the seat opposite him and stares.  No food in front of him, no coffee.  

Johnny squirms from the unblinking attention, on edge from the dark mask that hid his lower face—a mask adorned with the bottom half of a skull.  Eerie and fucking weird, but who was Johnny to judge.

In his line of work—ex line of work, he corrects himself bitterly—he’d seen much worse.

“You dinnae have to do all this, ah appreciate it!  Ye must have family tae go visit for Christmas and I’m holdin’ you up here, ah’m so sorry—”

“No family, s’ fine.”

Johnny’s eyes slide carefully to the ring on his left hand and back to his face, only to flush when he’s clearly been caught looking.  “Ah, ah’m sorry, I just saw the ring and thought ye were married, sorry, that’s—”

“I was.”

“But the ring—” Johnny blurts, before he can help himself.

“Ring stays.  Name’s Ghost,” the man says without missing a beat.  

“Yer name is Ghost?  Did your mam hate ye?”

“Dunno.  She’s dead.  Eat.”

Johnny nods absent-mindedly, and picks up his forgotten cutlery, sneaking glances at the—at Ghost.  

His attention remains unwaveringly on Johnny, though, and he stares intensely at Johnny through the whole thing. 

“I work ‘ere,” Ghost continues, as if the conversation had never stalled.  “Maintenance ‘n that.”

“Okay…”

“The kitchen’s stocked, if y’need to eat.  Help yourself anytime.  There’s coffee, tea, all sorts in there.  Stay as long as you need, there’s no drivin’ in this weather.  Give me a shout if you need me, I’ll be around.”

Ghost flings facts at Johnny at hyper-speed and Johnny’s unsure about what to do with this information.  

“Do—do ye need help?  Ah’m no’ doin’ anything anyway.  Be happy to help for yer lettin’ me stay—”

“Place needs a Christmas tree.”

Johnny chokes on his coffee.  Ghost merely leans back on the chair and waits him out, while painful, hacking coughs leave his body.

“Ye want me to put up yer tree?”

“Christmas in a couple days, innit?  Boiler needs lookin’ at too,” Ghost states and then narrows his eyes.  “I’ll sort that,” he says quickly, when Johnny looks like he was going to offer to do that instead.  “Pulled the tree ‘nd that outta the attic, it’s in the main room.  If you want to help.”    

“Alrate, I can decorate a tree.”

***

Johnny finds that he cannot, after all, decorate a tree.  He really struggles with it, really struggles with a fuckin’ Christmas tree—he can’t remember the last time he’d done this, which comes as a nasty shock—and decides that a change of strategy might be in order.  

He’s determined to do this right, though, and so he acknowledges (with a cringe) exactly what he needs to do.  

He bounds up to his room and grabs his phone.  It only rings twice before his sister answers.  “Too early, Johnny!  Wake my child and I’ll kill ye.”

“Sorry,” he laughs.  “Alright love?”

“S’ all good, pup.  But ye’re not gonna make it fer tonight either, the weather’s stirred up somethin’ awful.”  

“I know!  Never seen snow so bad this time o’ year.”  Johnny has to pause at the irony.  “Mother Nature herself isnae wantin’ me to meet my mother.”

“Yer not funny.”  He hears his sister sigh.  “Gonna be strange without ye here, y’know?”

“Ah know.”  But Johnny knew what his sister was too polite to say—that it might be weird without him there, but not necessarily bad.  He didn’t blame her. 

“Anyway.  Why’re ye calling so early?”

“Ah need your help…with a Christmas tree.”

“What?”  His sister’s voice had taken on an incredulous tone, two octaves higher than usual but when he explained to her what he wanted to do, and about the mysterious weirdo Ghost that ran the bed & breakfast, she was beyond intrigued.  “...kind of a name is Ghost?  His mam hate him?”

“‘S what I said!  But he’s lettin’ me stay here, even though the place is closed.  Fuck, ah’ll decorate his tree for ‘im.  Whatever.  Doesnae matter, can ye help me?”

“Such a brat, Johnny.  Fine.  Here’s what ye need to do.”

As she speaks about tinsel placement and an even bauble to tree ratio, Johnny  realises with a start that he hasn’t looked forward to a project like this for a long, long time.  Johnny’s only looked out for Johnny for so long that something as trivial as putting up a Christmas tree for someone else’s benefit felt like an undeniably selfless act of charity.  The thought disgusts him, he has to shake his head to distract himself from the dark line of thought.

The occasional glance out of the window reveals the constant, seemingly endless snow falling from the skies, but he’s grateful to at least be warm.  And while he separates the baubles from the tinsel from the tree lights, exactly as instructed, Johnny finds his thoughts straying from him.

Nothing’s caught his attention, nothing’s made him want to do something for someone else for a while.  Or maybe it’s just the gruff, stoic, kind of charming innkeeper.   And that thought comes as a surprise, seemingly out of nowhere. Huh.  

The only other constant apart from the snow seems to be the 80s music playing softly from upstairs.  Johnny knows it’s where Ghost is fixing the boiler, and occasionally, he’ll recognise the cheesy song playing from the vintage radio that Ghost seems to carry around with him along with his tool box.  It’s…beyond strange.  

Come afternoon and Johnny finds that he’s still not made as much progress as he’d  have liked to.  The front room of the inn is so messy, he’s thankful for the lack of any other guests at the place—there was hardly any place to walk around in the room.  

He doesn’t find that he has too much of an appetite—too engrossed in planning where he’d like the wreath to go in the room—but he hears Ghost rummaging around for something in the kitchen anyway.  And of course, it seems like where Ghost goes, so does the radio.       

And that’s it, isn’t it?  Johnny finds himself completely intrigued by Ghost.  He’s gorgeous under that mask, Johnny’s confident of it, but if he’s being completely honest, there’s only a few facts that he knows for certain about Ghost.  Special Forces.  Inn-keeper?  Listens to The Police a lot.  Cooks a decent breakfast.  Ah, he’s worked with less in the past.   

“Yer going to clean up after y’self, yeah?”

He’s a bad soldier for how the voice startles him and Johnny’s resentful to admit that he almost jumps a foot in the air from it.

“...yeh yeh, ah’ll clean up.  Almost done here, how’s it looking?”

Ghost stands up straighter, almost like he didn’t expect to be asked, but he crosses his arms over his chest and uses his chin to motion at the tree.  “Lights.”

“Aye, sir,” Johnny mumbles, rolling his eyes at the barely concealed command, and turns the lights on.  When he does, Ghost’s eyes widen slightly, and Johnny has to turn away to hide his smile.   “And?”

Ghost doesn’t say a word, but it’s like Johnny can see his entire frame melt.  It starts up at his shoulders, makes him uncross his arms which fall down to hang limply at his sides.  It’s like the entire tough demeanour falls away to the side, while he watches the lights of the tree and the decorations in the front room, and when he inhales, it’s shuddery.  He appears shaken up by what he sees, and Johnny can’t even begin to guess why. 

“Would ye like to put the star up on—”

“L-lunch is in the kitchen, help yourself,” Ghost mutters, then strides out, aiming for the front door.  Just before he leaves though, with a hand on the door handle, he pauses, and turns halfway to address Johnny.  “Thank you.  I, uh.  I appreciate it.  You didn’t hafta.”

“It’s no’ a prob—”  But Johnny doesn’t get to finish the rest of his sentence because the front door slams shut, and Ghost is gone.  “Steamin’ Christ,” he mutters.  

It’s only two hours later, when Johnny’s picking at his food in his own room, when movement outside the window catches his attention.  He sets his plate down and walks over, only to choke on his own breath like someone had punched his throat, hard.  He stands there, frozen, staring, wondering what on Earth was in his food that’s made him lose his mind.  

But, no.  Ghost stands there below his wind,  his all-black attire contrasting starkly against the blanket of snow.   In the middle of a snow storm, Ghost stands outside Johnny’s window, axe in hand, chopping wood.

It’s hypnotising, mesmerising,  Johnny finds, watching Ghost and his movements.  It’s surprising how none of it is surprising to Johnny—not the action, not the fact that Ghost is outside in a snowstorm to do it—but Johnny finds himself unconsciously holding his breath and clenching his fists while he observes the movement of Ghost’s body as he does it.  

There’s nothing lean about his body.    

He’s all powerful, rippling muscle under a healthy layer of fat, his chest gorgeously broad, expanding under a black hoodie that strains and relaxes under the movement.  Even from two storeys up where Johnny looks down at him, nothing about Ghost fits in.  Nothing about him looks like it belongs in this picturesque scene, and nothing about him can be glanced over.  He demands Johnny’s absolute attention, even when he doesn’t know it.  Especially because he doesn’t know it.  

Johnny takes a deep breath, and runs shaky fingers through his hair with his exhale.  The movement catches Ghost’s eyes because sharp eyes turn up to look at Johnny instantly.  Johnny’s caught unawares and regrets his finger-wave and chin-nod combo as he does it, embarrassed at having been caught ogling at the man while he’s on the job.  

And while Johnny can’t confirm it, not being able to see Ghost expression from the distance, when he gathers the logs of wood and walks them to the back entrance of the inn, Johnny’s sure Ghost stands taller and walks cockier.

It feels like the atmosphere in the inn becomes a bit more hospitable, and the ice between them melts a little.  At least…that’s what the knock on his door on Johnny’s door in the evening indicates.  It’s tentative, like even Ghost can’t believe he’s doing it.  Except, unlike Ghost, Johnny has had an entire afternoon to accept that he’s got a stupid crush on the hot innkeeper, and he’s flinging the door open.  

Ghost looks uncomfortable.  There’s no other way to put it—Ghost’s open hands twitch at his sides, his foot taps a quick staccato on the floor and he looks at anywhere but Johnny.    

So Johnny waits.  

“I, uh, wanted to know.  You want some dinner?  We got some.”

“Bit early fo’ dinner, Ghost.”  Johnny’s smile is wide, only widens when his hip leaning against the door frame catches Ghost’s attention. 

“Got a bar we can raid.”

 Johnny’s eyes sparkle with interest, before he pushes off the door, agrees easily.  “Must warn ye though, Ghost,” he says, as they make their way down the stairs, Johnny trailing the bigger man, enjoying the view.  “Best have a stocked bar.  I’m a Scotch man, meself.”

“Shocking.”

“What?  Not a fan?”

“I drink bourbon.”

“Like a good ol’ boy…”

Ghost’s sharp inhale makes Johnny hold his own breath for a moment, before they both relax.  “I like Kentucky,” comes the small whisper, almost a defensive after-thought.  Ghost rounds the corner into the kitchen with a quick stride and Johnny, rather unconvincingly, hides his sudden laugh as a cough.

Ghost’s scoff from the kitchen tells him how unconvincing that really was.  

***

“Ye got me right pished,” Johnny accuses, finger pointing to where Ghost’s form doubles and triples in front of him.   

“Only so I could ‘ave my way with you.”  The completely deadpan response he receives sets Johnny off, and only the crinkles around Ghost’s eyes make the ugly snort that leave his mouth worth it.  

They quiet after a while and then Ghost’s eyes lift and fixate on the hundreds of tiny lights around the room.  They looked gorgeous, and Johnny was proud of himself.  “You did well.  With the tree and that.  Thank you.”

“Ye…looked like ye didnae like it.  Earlier.”

Ghost scoffs, but the sound is sad.  “Sorry ‘bout that…didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.  About yesterday too.  It’s, er…’twas a strange day.  Wasn’t you.  Sorry.”  

Johnny melts at the awkward sincerity in Ghost’s voice but freezes when Ghost turns his face to look at him.  Oh.  Oh holy fuck.  His eyes aren’t brown, Johnny realises, horrified.  He’d looked at them earlier, dismissed them as a generic “dark,” but fuck.  

Holy fuckin’ shit, they’re not fucking  “dark,” they’re actually—

“Green!” Johnny blurts.  He’s sure getting shot at has been less painful than the hot, searing feeling of embarrassment that crawls up his chest and manifests as bright, embarrassing, pink across his face. Ghost stares at him blankly, and fuck, if Johnny isn’t in the most awkward three seconds of his life.  “Alright, that’s enough of that,” Ghost mumbles finally and stands up, wincing at his cracking knees as he does.  “Dinner?”

[ofduskanddreams]

All That Matters

For @c-e-d-dreamer and @cassianappreciationweek day 4. The request: Nessian. Any setting of your choosing, but how about something soft and sweet?

Nessian ✦ Rated M ✦ 867 words ✦ on AO3

CW: CANON-TYPICAL DEPICTION OF VIOLENCE

They sat on the river bank until the sun was fat and low in the sky, its orange fingers slinking through the willow boughs.

There was only the steady rise and fall of Cassian’s chest at her back, the warmth of him bleeding into her veins, and the I-love-you-s murmured back and forth at the same volume as the Sidra’s soft rush.

“Are you awake?” he whispered against her temple after a longer stretch of silence.

“For now,” Nesta replied, shifting to look at him. “But I’m not sure for how much longer.”

The reality of the last two days was finally settling into her bones now that the adrenaline had evaporated. The Rite, Briallyn, Nyx’s birth… exhaustion was lead seeping into her limbs and weighing them down, trying to draw her wholly into its grasp.

“Let’s go home then.” Cassian stood, then scooped her off the grass and into his arms. He launched them skyward and Nesta closed her eyes.

The next thing she knew, the world had stilled again and Cassian was saying something. “... know you’re tired, but I need you to try to eat something first.”

He sounded so gentle, so worried about her, and Nesta smiled as she opened her eyes. This male—capable of a ferocity to rival the gods, yet wearing his heart for all to see… “I love you,” Nesta told him again, just because she could and it was decadent.

The house delivered them enough food for a small army, and Nesta managed to put away a plate and a half before her yawns began arriving at a frequency that made eating inconvenient.

Cassian noticed, of course he did. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then we can sleep.”

Nesta considered protesting, a testament to the extent of her exhaustion considering that she hadn’t bathed in over a week, but knew she would regret going to bed layered in the residue of the Rite.

Cassian ran the bath as she sat on the edge of the counter and watched him move about the room. He helped her out of her clothes, his touch mindful of the bruises still littering her skin. He joined her in the bath, carefully maneuvering her tired limbs until she was leaning back against him again. 

With a soft cloth, he worked honey-scented soap into a lather and began to clean away the grime. It was all Nesta could do to keep from dozing off.

But her closing eyelids snapped open when her mate took a shuddering breath that turned into a bitten off sob. Nesta turned around so quickly that she sent water careering over the sides.

“I could have killed you,” Cassian whispered in horror, looking down at his hands—they were trembling. 

She took his shaking fingers in her own and squeezed. “You didn’t. You fought her.” Nesta shuddered as she remembered the sight of Cassian plunging that knife into his own chest rather than hers.

He shook his head, “I wanted to hurt you, Nes. It was…” he trailed off, looking to the side and squeezing his eyes shut. 

A crystalline droplet streaked down his stubbled cheek and Nesta caught it with her thumb, coaxing him to face her.

“You weren’t yourself. That feeling wasn’t you—it was Briallyn and the Crown.”

The pain in his hazel eyes echoed through her and she drew him into her arms, holding him as tightly as she could.

“I thought…” Cassian drew a deep breath and held it, blowing it out slowly. “I thought I might never see you again. When I arrived at Emerie’s and you were missing, the smell of those males, of the drugs…” he shivered, putting his nose to her neck and taking another controlled breath. 

“I thought I might have lost you and then to see you on that mountain, to be a puppet, forced to watch myself try to harm you without knowing if I could resist it… gods, Nesta, I was so scared.”

He lost his grip on the rhythm of his lungs, breaths turning shallow again. 

“You did resist her, Cassian. That’s the only thing that matters.” Nesta traced patterns on his back and around the base of his wings as she held him. 

The house kept the water at a steady temperature even as their fingers wrinkled. Eventually, the tide of emotion Cassian had clearly been holding back receded. They took turns helping each other wash. 

A tired yet comfortable silence settled between them as they climbed out of the bath, hastily dried off, and then collapsed into her bed. 

In the darkness, her mouth found Cassian’s, and she kissed him, pouring everything she felt into the touch: relief, gratitude, and more love than Nesta had ever imagined herself to be capable of. 

Her friends and family were safe and healthy. She had her mate, and her home. There were many unresolved problems, sure, but they would still be there in the morning. 

All Nesta cared about now was the steady beat of Cassian’s heart beneath her ear. His even breaths filled the quiet, starlit room and Nesta’s lungs slowed their pace to match as she finally allowed reality to drift as dreamless sleep embraced her. 

✦ ✦ ✦

tagging: @damedechance @itsthedoodle @moodymelanist @areyoudreaminof @octobers-veryown @krem-does-stuff @iftheshoef1tz @moonpatroclus @panicatthenightcourt @thelovelymadone @talons-and-teeth

[cryptidsurveys]

Wednesday, June 18th, 2025.

1 - If you have caffeine late in the day, does it cause you to struggle with your sleep? My body is pretty used to caffeine in the form of migraine pills, but I suppose they could contribute to my sleep struggles.

2 - When you struggle to sleep, what do you do instead? I just lie there and listen to something on YouTube.

3 - Who was the last person you spoke to for the first time? How did you come to speak to this person? Possibly one of the new employees at the shelter.

4 - If you have a pet, have they ever embarrassed you in public or in front of friends or family members? What happened? They have not.

5 - Do you leave the house every single day? Almost. I typically leave Fri-Tues to go to the animal shelter, every other Wednesday I have my therapy appointment, and on Thursdays, we go grocery shopping early in the AM and then we visit the mountain park.

6 - Would you rather spend the day at the beach, or a day in the snow in the mountains? If it was a quiet beach without many people, then I would probably choose that because I can visit the mountains pretty much whenever I wish.

7 - Do you prefer tops that are plain, or ones with patterns/logos/slogans? I own more tops with logos, sayings, and designs, mainly animal shelter shirts, but I'm not sure whether I prefer them or if that's just the way it happens to be.

8 - Are there any TV shows from your childhood that you still watch today? There aren't, but I feel like Franklin the Turtle and Little Bear might still hold some of that childhood magic.

9 - How many texts would you say you send on an average day? On animal shelter days, somewhere between 1-5 (mainly sending photos to medical in the group chat). On days off, zero.

10 - Do you enjoy buying gifts for other people, or do you never know what to buy them? I am really not much of a gift giver. I'm worried the other person won't like what I picked out, etc. However, I do like bringing snacks for everyone at the animal shelter. It's a rather physical job, especially for the dog people, so I can pretty much rest assured that they will be appreciated by someone.

11 - Girls - if you get periods, do you suffer from period pain or any other horrible symptoms? My periods are fairly heavy, but thankfully, I really only experience cramps on the first day and then things are fine after that. I also seem to experience more headaches and migraines around that time of the month.

12 - The last time you were in a car, where you were travelling to? Were you the driver or a passenger? Home from the animal shelter. I was the driver.

13 - Who were you with the last time you went out for a meal? My dad. We went to Captain D's for Father's Day.

14 - What book do you wish they’d make into a film or TV series? House of Suns.

15 - The age old question - do you prefer coke or pepsi? I don't really have a preference. I also don't drink soda all that often. Pretty much only when I go to the movie theater, in which case, I will get a small Diet Coke.

16 - What’s the last thing you watched on TV? Is this a programme you watch regularly? Probably something random playing in the waiting room for therapy, but I watched a video by ASMR Historian last night about the transition from the Bronze Age to the Iron Age.

17 - Do you have a favourite documentary subject (eg. nature, celebrities, history, crime)? History, outer space, the paranormal, nature, philosophy, missing people…

18 - Do you prefer sweet or savoury snacks? What snack would you say is your overall favourite? I really enjoy sweet foods, but I'm thinking of transitioning to foods that are more on the savory side, or include more savory components. Also, when it comes to food as a whole, I'm going to try to skew the ratio towards energy rather than bulk. I eat a lot of things that are generally considered healthy, but I rely too much on safe, low-calorie, "volume foods," and those don't provide much in the way of steady, lasting energy.

19 - Does having to wear a mask stop you from doing anything, just because you dislike them or find them uncomfortable? I wasn't doing very much with my life when masks were required, but I could definitely see them being stiflingly hot and uncomfortable at the animal shelter. I'm not very heat tolerant in the first place, so having to breathe in that restricted, humid air would have been a nightmare.

20 - Do you prefer zip-up or overhead hoodies? I prefer regular hoodies.

21 - If you have a yard or garden, how much time do you spend out there? We used to have a vegetable garden, but we don't keep up with it anymore, and I don't spend much time at all out in the yard.

22 - When was the last time someone bought you flowers? What was the occasion? I'm not sure.

23 - How often do you get takeaway? What’s your favourite thing to order? Very rarely. I don't really have a favorite thing to order.

24 - Do you own a lot of clothing items in your favourite colour? What is your favourite colour, anyway? My favorite color, if I had to choose just one, is blood red. I don't own anything in that color. Most of the clothing I wear, aside from the pops of color provided by volunteer attire, is black, gray, and dark blue.

25 - When was the last time you stayed overnight away from home? Was this with friends, family or in a hotel somewhere? What was the occasion? Years ago. It would have been a backpacking trip with my dad.

26 - Would you ever be interested in seeing a live magic show? Eh. I'm not super interested in that sort of thing, but I would probably enjoy it if I went.

27 - What’s your favourite period to learn about in history? What got you interested in this particular era? Probably ancient history in general, the American colonial and frontier days, etc.

28 - Do you still use or carry cash, or do you pay for everything via card? I still carry cash.

29 - Are there any TV shows that remind you of your grandparents for some reason? No.

30 - Have you ever had to wear a tie for school or work? If not, do you know how to tie a tie without looking it up? I have not, and no, I don't know how to tie one.