#Except Desire!! For once!! Isn't!!

[nightlight-stardust-and-rain]

I have seen like three fics where Desire tries to seduce Hob just to piss their brother off, and I'd like to raise you :

Desire telling Hob they want to be friends (just so they can seduce him and hurt Dream of course) except they end up genuinely appreciating his company and it's nice to see someone who loves the little things in life so much and he's not trying to hit on them which is kinda refreshing tbh and oh no, they really are friends now aren't they.

[ambrosiagourmet]

I want to talk about why I think this is the one of the most important Falin panels:

So, Falin is really nice, right? It's one of the first things we really learn about her. She's kind even to the monsters of the dungeon - choosing to ward the party rather than fight spirits and cause them needless harm.

In the above early flashback in chapter 11, we see Marcille fawning over Falin's kindness, calling her an angel. Namari calls her soft-hearted. We see Falin choose not to fight even when a zombie attacks - instead she resolves the confrontation with a hug. After the flashback, the first thing Senshi says is that Falin "sounds like quite the person," which Marcille strongly affirms.

At this point in the story, all we have seen of Falin are these impressions; she is a healer, an angel, a caretaker with an infinite well of kindness towards everyone she meets - both friend and foe.

And honestly, that remains most of what we have to go by to understand her. The only times we get to see Falin on the page, alive and just herself, are in the opening and closing pages of the story and in the brief period of time after she is resurrected.

Nonetheless, we do have some more details to work with. For one, there is the scene that The Panel is from - a short memory in chapter 75, when Marcille flashes back to while she's dying. In that scene, Falin prepares to teleport them all out, and says that she's sorry "if there is a person at [their] destination." And that's when we get The Panel.

If you teleport someone or something into another person, the person teleported into is likely to be, at minimum, severely injured. They could die.

We can see a lovely little horrifying example of exactly why in one of the Daydream Hour doodles:

So, hmm. That's not... that's not SUPER nice. Certainly not displaying the same "kindness to all, friend and foe included" we saw represented earlier. On a basic level, this adds some nuance to Falin's kindness. We see it break a little, when pushed to the limit. We see her chose to protect the people she loves above all else.

Which makes sense! As Laios says when the Winged Lion accuses him of similarly being motivated more by his friends' safety than everyone else in the dungeon, "...most people, aside from virtuous do-gooders, would feel the same way."

So, we can take The Panel as simply showing a moment of weakness for Falin. A time when she was pushed to her limits, and that "most people" selfish side of her shone through.

However... I think there's a little more going on with Falin than just her being an angel 99% of the time, except just that once. I love The Panel because I think it helps us understand that Falin isn't just motivated by kindness - she also has a desire to avoid seeing people in pain.

Isn't that the same thing?

No, no it very much is not.

Let's look at a short comic from the Falin section of the Adventurer's Bible, because I think it illustrates this point perfectly. The group is complaining about how much Marcille's healing hurts, and comparing it to Falin's, which "doesn't hurt a bit." Marcille retorts with the following:

Now, the punchline of this comic is that, despite Marcille's sentimental assertion that she's "thinking of [them]" by letting her healing magic hurt, they all still prefer to be healed by Falin.

But hey, this wouldn't be the first time that Dungeon Meshi hides a very real character beat or insight in a gag, so let's think about this somewhat seriously.

If Marcille is right (and she knows a fair bit about magic, so we can assume that she has at least somewhat of a point), then what Falin is doing isn't kind. I suppose if someone specifically requested to not feel the pain, it could be kind, but that's not really what happened here. She is the one who felt badly about the others being in pain, and she is the one who decided, without telling them or giving them a choice in the matter, to take away that pain.

Both Marcille and Falin are healing the party, but Marcille is doing it in a way that accomplishes the task in the most straight forward way, without any additional interference. Falin is going out of her way to perform the healing in a way she is more comfortable with. A way that avoids pain.

Going back the The Panel, I don't think its a coincidence that the only time we see Falin (well, non-chimera Falin) willing to do something that could hurt someone is when any potential pain will be far away from her. If she got someone hurt or killed by teleporting the party to the surface? Not only would it be far out of her sight, but she'd be dead before she had to deal with any consequences of that action.

Falin is not a confrontational person. She doesn't push when Marcille won't tell her the truth about the resurrection, and she comforts Laios about her own death - both of those things happening in the only full chapter she is alive and conscious in the whole story.

We also know that she considered accepting Shuro's proposal, despite not having any special feelings towards him, and that Falin never explained to Marcille that she wanted them to share a meal together. When she brought Marcille various foods at the academy, she just accepted Marcille's confused rejection and gave up.

And lastly, we know that she is still in contact with her parents, despite the neglect and abuse she suffered at their hands. Although the way someone chooses to handle contact with abusive or bad family is a complicated topic, which I don't want to overly simplify, I do I think this fact gets at the heart of how she handles conflict.

So many people that Falin loves have hurt her. There are understandable hurts, like Laios leaving the village, or Marcille not understanding the food. And there are bigger, far less justifiable hurts - like her parents neglecting her throughout her childhood, and sending her away to be alone at the magic academy.

It doesn't seem like Falin has ever confronted any of it directly.

And the unhealthy aspects of this kind of avoidance of pain and confrontation is one of the things that the story of Dungeon Meshi is all about. We see Laios grapple with it before he goes to kill Falin, and we see Marcille acknowledge it at the end of the story, when she tells Laios that she has come to terms with Falin's death:

Eating is a part of life. Consuming other living things is a part of life. It isn't really possible to avoid that pain - you can only hide from the truth of it. You have to be selfish everyday. You have to eat - to choose to live. To choose to take up space.

And this is something Falin embraces, too. She comes back to life, after all.

We see her choose to come back to life.

And how does she make that choice? She eats. She consumes, and then she is asked a question by the manifestation of hunger itself:

Do you want to eat more?

There is a double meaning in the Winged Lion's final words on the next page.

When I first read this, I took it as him saying: life is cruel. You will suffer. You will feel more pain.

But perhaps, especially for Falin, this also means: you are choosing a path where you must cause pain. Where you must consume. Where you must take, and must be selfish. Because eating is the special privilege of the living, and it is their burden, too. In order to stay alive, she will need to keep eating.

And she chooses that. Chooses to be selfish. It's why her resurrection scene is so important, and it's why The Panel is so important. Because Falin coming back isn't the ultimate reward for all of the party's hard work.

It's her choice. Just like it was her choice that started everything in the first place. But this time, she doesn't choose to accept causing pain for the sake of Marcille and Laios. She does it for her own sake.

[inkedbybarnes]

unclear

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: everyone thinks you're dating bucky, except yourself.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ minors dni. miscommunication (i love this trope, sue me), angst with a happy fluffy ending, quite stubborn reader, implied smut if you squint, usage of petnames such as baby and doll. lowercase for basically everything.

i haven't finished anything in decades, but i suddenly had an idea just now and decided to write it down. surprisingly, i finished it? might have a lot of mistakes and such since i haven't proofread it yet. also, sorry for using lowercase for this, i kinda like how it looks. hope you enjoy this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune!

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“you're confusing me. so... you're not dating bucky?”

wanda tilted her head, confusion etched on her face as you spent your weekly girl's night with natasha. it usually consisted of eating food you all desired, drinking until you got wasted, and spilling secrets to one another.

although tonight, you weren't sure if you had any secrets to spill.

"as far as i know, no. we're just friends, teammates. nothing else," you answered with a heavy sigh. "can we talk about something else?"

"hold your horses, young lady! we are not skipping this topic again. you obviously want a label but he isn't giving you one!" wanda protested. she has been constantly asking about you and bucky's relationship for the past weeks, and you always had the same answer. you don't know.

"have you never talked about it with bucky? he looks at you like you'd get lost if he looks away for a second. not a single soul in the tower would think that you're just friends," natasha interjected, taking another sip from the bottle of beer she held. she had a point, as always. "if he's just playing with you, which i highly doubt for barnes, then just end whatever that is. you deserve better than having doubts and confusion, babe."

you've tried asking him multiple times, but every attempt felt like you were stepping on his boundaries. after years of being controlled by hydra, you knew it was possible that he'd hate the feeling of being rushed and entering a relationship that could potentially feel like a cage to him.

but natasha was right. your "relationship" was no longer anything friendly. he sleeps in your bed, claiming he slept better in it, and wakes up beside you to shower you with kisses. none of you even tried to hide it after some time. you always cooked your meals and ate them together, casually feeding one another and stealing kisses in between. you even stopped going on dates and you had no idea if you were exclusive. you deserved to know what your relationship with bucky was, but you were too scared to lose everything once you asked.

"we're not dating. i only see him as a friend, so you can both stop worrying about me." you lied through your teeth, your chest aching as you realised how stupid this was. you sighed and faked a smile, shifting the attention to natasha. "so, tell me about your date with steve! how was the first ever date of captain america since the 40s?"

wanda was distracted by the question, immediately bombarding the now blushing widow with questions. on the other hand, your mind flew away for a minute, finally deciding to get an answer from bucky.

the annual ball that tony stark held for, well, nearly anyone, was nearing. you only had two weeks left, and you haven't even gone out to find something to wear. it was hard to find any motivation to do all that effort when the person you've been waiting to ask you as his date hasn't asked you yet.

although, bucky had a tendency to get shy and hold back. you knew that. so here you were, standing behind the doors to the gym, knowing that bucky would be training at this hour. you still haven't asked him the question you were supposed to ask him, so you decided to do it all at once.

after you've finished your small pep talk, you opened the door to enter the room and your first instinct was to search for bucky.

considering that he was a huge chunk of a man, he was easy to find. however, the sight of him standing in front of a woman that was too close for your comfort wasn't delightful.

he didn't see you entering the room since he was facing the opposite direction, conversing with the agent that happened to be training as well. she had the sweetest and flirtiest smile on her face, bringing her hand up to his arm, slowly caressing it. you didn't mean to easily hear their conversation as you walked closer.

"so, do you happen to have someone for me to have as a date for the ball? i don't want to be lonely on that night, sergeant," the agent said with an extra pout, swaying her hips side to side like a child asking for candy.

"oh, yeah? i think i have someone for you," bucky replied, breaking your heart into pieces with how enthusiastic he was with his answer. "i'm sure you'll—"

you sniffed. unconsciously. not knowing that your tears were already falling, causing your nose to get stuffy. how pathetic, you thought.

your little sniff caught the attention of both the agent and bucky, looking at you in shock. although, the girl was more pleasantly surprised than the opposite. thankfully, you already had your tears wiped before they could see them.

"oh, we didn't see you there!" she greeted you with your name. "we were just talking about our date for this year's ball. who are you bringing?"

"i haven't decided yet, no one's worth it even if i try," you answered bitterly. "so you're going together?"

before bucky could answer, the agent already had her arm wrapped around his, happily smiling at your question. "yeah! amazing, right? i actually thought you two had a thing, but i guess not. glad things worked out in the end."

and that was your last straw. "well, enjoy yourselves. i have to go and find natasha."

you turned to leave, ignoring the loud calls of bucky. you were glad that you never asked him about your relationship and the ball. you were going to be hurt either way.

you spent the next hours stuck in your room, body covered with a thick sheet as you ranted about your frustrations to friday.

it was silly, you knew that, but you refused to call natasha and wanda to remind you of your stupidity and decided to let an ai robot listen to your problems instead.

"and he even flirted back! answering coyly like a teenager. he's 107 years old, fri!" you whined, not noticing the new nickname you've given the alternative intelligence. "ugh, now i have a broken heart and no date in sight. how did it get to this?"

"perhaps you must discuss this matter with sergeant barnes first. your conversation ended quite abruptly with no clear conclusion."

"no, i don't want the truth rubbed on my face," you said, grabbing another piece of tissue to sneeze in. "you restricted him from entering my room, right?"

friday answered with a yes, then you thanked her for listening and decided to get some sleep after tirelessly crying for hours. you knew you had a team meeting with the avengers in a bit, but you couldn't bring yourself to even walk a few steps.

your sleep ended and you were woken up with friday's reminder that it was time for dinner with the team.

with a groan, you pushed yourself off your bed. bucky would be there, but you were too hungry to care. it would be awkward, of course, but you had to face him at some point anyway.

your feet padded towards the door, opening it after trying your hair in a bun.

"ah, fuck."

you jumped at the voice and the body falling to the floor as you opened the door.

"bucky?" you asked, still in shock. "were you sleeping outside of my room?"

you watched bucky stand up, his hand massaging his aching nape as he looked for your eyes. "friday won't let me in. i waited outside instead. i guess i fell asleep during that," he explained, a frown forming on his face. "did you restrict me from entering our room?"

your eyes widened at his choice of words. our room. he considered your room to be his room as well. while that would've made you melt in an instant, you were still hurt to entertain that possibility.

"this is my room, barnes. not yours, not ours. and yes, i had you restricted because i couldn't face you yet. what do you need anyway?"

"i wanted to see you, talk to you." a flash of pain crossed his eyes. "whatever happened at the gym, it's—"

"bucky, you don't have to explain anything to me. we're just friends. it's my fault i assumed we were something. i just need some time to get over it."

"but i thought we were something as well..." he replied, his voice was almost as quiet as a whisper. "i thought we were dating."

"were we?" you asked, genuinely curious. "we never.. you never said anything. i mean, yeah, i wished it meant something, but i thought you wouldn't want to be trapped in a relationship with me, so i just waited. apparently, i was right and i can't blame you for that."

"right about what? the thing that happened in the gym this morning?" he asked. you nodded in response. "i know it sounds like i was flirting back, well i didn't know at the moment, until i asked steve who was clueless but he called nat to help me out and explained that it looked like i was flirting back. i wasn't. i was just going to suggest sam as a date for her. i would never agree to anyone."

oh. so he just wasn't interested in anyone at all.

"besides this one girl who's constantly been in my head. that's if she'd even give me a chance and say yes. i fucked it up badly before i could even ask her properly."

you knew what hoping got you, but you couldn't help but think that he was talking about you. he'd have to be clueless to say all those things in front of you only for it to be someone else.

"i love you, baby. i should've told you that, i should've made it clear sooner. i'm so sorry i let you have doubts when i could've been reassuring you about what i feel for you."

"bucky..."

"i would never feel trapped with you, doll. only you made me feel so much love and freedom. i'd be a fool to let go of that. i'm sorry it took a few hits and harsh words from natasha to make me realise that i wasn't giving you enough when you deserve everything." he held your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him. you felt breathless, tears threatening to fall but this time it was out of joy. "hydra made sure i had no voice to express myself. now, i'll use it to let you know that i love you so fucking much that it hurts when you're not around. i promise to work on it. if anything like this happens again, ask me, baby. demand things from me. i'll give you everything in a heartbeat."

"even if i ask for your arm?"

he laughed, a sound that was music to your ears. "it's yours baby. although, i do like fucking you with my metal—"

"bucky!" you scolded him, hitting him lightly on the chest.

"sorry, baby. couldn't help it. missed my girl so much."

his girl. you loved hearing that.

"it's only been a few hours. don't be silly," you reminded him, but you knew you also felt the same.

"i miss you even when i don't see you for a second." you couldn't help but laugh at his words. "something funny, doll?"

"sorry, natasha said something similar about you a few days ago," you answered. "i'm sorry for assuming so quickly, bucky. you deserved the chance to explain."

"and you did let me explain. i can't blame you for assuming and getting hurt when i never gave you the confirmation to believe otherwise. don't apologise for it, baby."

"i love you," you said, causing him to grin widely.

"yeah? you love me too?" he asked, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "this is official now, right? we're dating?"

you nodded happily, giggling as he landed a kiss to your mouth. "so, you wanna go to the ball with me?"

he kissed you again. "don't. i'm supposed to be asking you that. i had an entire thing prepared for you, i even dragged half of the team to help me out days ago. besides wanda and natasha, of course. couldn't let them tell you about it."

your heart swelled, he was already planning to ask you before all of this misunderstanding happened, and it could've been solved with communication. lesson learned, indeed.

"well hurry because i can't wait to say yes," you playfully threatened him, kissing the tip of his nose until the loud rumble of your stomach interrupted your sweet moment. "ah, right. i was on my way to eat dinner when i opened the door."

bucky laughed, his eyes twinkling witth adoration as he kept his eyes on you. "we can't have you starving, that's for sure. come, let's get you something." he held your hand, and dragged you to the kitchen. he turned to look at you with a playful smile. "wanna cook together like the old times?"

you smiled. "like the old times."

in the middle of your cooking session, you heard whistles and claps along with the footsteps that entered the kitchen. you both turned to find the rest of the team with shit eating grins.

"finally! so is this real or do we need to smack your heads?" tony asked, his hand placed on his hip.

"it's always been real, stark," bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your waist. "except this time, i'm making sure my entire world knows it."

"i think everybody knows you have a thing for each other, barnes." clint added.

"i meant my entire world, not everybody." bucky looked at you with awe. "she's my world."

bucky's answer gained various loud reactions from the team, mostly calling him a cheesy old man and fake gags, but there you were, cheeks heating up as you looked back at him with the same amount of love, if not more.

and he did ask you to be his date to the ball the day after, surprising you with his so-called secret plan.

a year later, he surprised you with a ring as he knelt on one knee.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[kirain]

Wall of the faithless isn't canon in bg3. They changed alot of things actually. So no Gale isn't "scared" he's just an obsessed asshole who doesn't learn from his mistakes.

Oof...

There's really nothing I can say except: you're wrong. The City of Judgement and the Wall of the Faithless are canon to BG3. If you don't like Gale, that's fine, but you don't have to make things up or completely disregard the lore to do it. Larian Studios literally hired people from Wizards of the Coast—the company responsible for all the canon lore, characters, and campaigns in D&D—to help them with the story. It took them five years, I believe, to fully study and understand the lore. They constantly conferred with the team to double, triple, and quadruple check every slice of content they added to the game, and parts of the game are now considered canon to D&D 5E.

As for Gale "not learning" from his mistakes ... when you first meet him, he literally admits he made a mistake with Mystra. Though personally I don't see it as the "power-hungry" move people seem to think it is. Gale simply wanted to be considered an equal to his partner (really his groomer), which is a perfectly healthy and normal desire for anyone in a relationship. Your partner should treat you like an equal, but Mystra very clearly saw Gale as a pet. A trophy. A worshipper. Subservient. Beneath her. A silly mortal with delusions of grandeur (which she cultivated), which is really rich when you learn she was once mortal herself. Mystra is a hypocrite.

Gale tried to prove himself worthy of equality by trying to bring Mystra what he thought was a piece of her missing Weave. For anyone who doesn't know, the current Mystra was torn to pieces by Cyric and Shar, then put back together by her Chosen. Though back to full power by the events of BG3, she's still technically missing pieces of herself, and Gale mistook the Karsite Weave for one of those pieces. Instead of simply telling Gale it was corrupted Weave, she let him go on believing it was hers. Personally I think that's because she was tired of him (maybe he got too old for her 😒) and was hoping he would do something that, in her mind, would justify abandoning him—but I admit that's full conjecture on my part. What is true is that she knew the orb wasn't hers, but for some reason she let Gale think it was. Even after she abandoned him and left him to die, she never told him. Not until she realised she could use him.

In Act 3, while the argument can certainty be made that he's thirsty for power, Gale ultimately becomes fed up with the gods because, as he knows better than anyone, they treat people like commodities. While I have no intention of ever ascending him myself, it looks like he actually makes good on his word. He doesn't threaten or toy with his followers, he inspires people to walk their own path, he only asks for prayers as payment (as without some form of devotion, gods in D&D cease to be), and if you romance him ... he ascends you into godhood as his equal. Mystra could have done this for him, she just didn't want to. And if you don't want him to ascend, it's genuinely so easy. I don't understand what people are complaining about. It takes one conversation with zero checks to convince him to completely abandon his ambitions. One. If he was truly "power hungry", it wouldn't be that easy.

Again, I would argue that Gale's true goal isn't really power, it's freedom, and divinity gives him that freedom. He has many conversations where he makes it clear he doesn't want to live under the gods' thumbs anymore; which, in a world like Faerûn, is extremely understandable. As I said in my Wall of the Faithless post, he's scared. Eternal torment for a simple mistake, one of which could've been avoided if Mystra told him the truth or treated him like an equal? When your partner is a goddess, how can you not feel inadequate? And if you convince him to give up the crown, he's perfectly content with Mystra's forgiveness. Even in the Early Access, that's all he really wanted.

Gale's far from perfect. He's arrogant and overconfident and insecure and he can be prone to emotional outbursts (most of which he apologises for, however), but he's nowhere near the heartless, power-hungry monster the haters seem to think he is. He is, in fact, one of the most compassionate companions in the entire camp, to the point that he accepts everyone, including Minthara. He votes for Astarion to stay when you find out he's a vampire. He gets mad at you if you surrender him to the Gur. He's one of the only companions who will openly marry/stay with you if you become a mindflayer. He's willing to sacrifice himself to save the world, and willing to damn himself to be with you. He loves every act of kindness, while hating every act of cruelty. I understand that the bugs from launch ruined a lot of people's perception of him ... and unfortunately some of those glitches are still present even now, but he is a good man.

[katamarigender]

Now that I've been in a meatcutting/sausage making place I can pretty confidently say that no they do not put random gross animal parts into ground meat. Unless you want to wreck your grinder or spend extra time cleaning it you are not putting random bones or tendons or skin in there. Ground meat is pretty much just fat and skeletal muscle.

[yorsgirl]

Perhaps, in another realm

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: An elixir of life – you, destined solely for his consumption. Yet, in his pursuit, he forgot, he sipped away your essence, your breath of life.

Tropes: Dark romance, Historical fiction, Angst, fluff.

Warnings: implied nsfw, implied forced intimacy, forced marriage, baby-trapping, knife play, yandere themes, isolation, trauma, one-sided love implied, non-explicit violence, mild stockholm syndrome(to empathize with one's captor), misogyny, minor character death, healthily unhealthy relationship, Sukuna being a red-green flag, Sukuna has eyes for no one except his wife.

General Warnings: Heian Era, strict Japanese setting, usage of Japanese terms(glossary provided), True form!Sukuna, husband!Sukuna, wife!reader, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word Count: 3.7k

Glossary || Pictures

Ryomen Sukuna beholds secrets which he musn't.

Each dawn's awakening, he notes the sun's radiant dance on your irises. Marking the gentle arc of your lips, a telltale sign of mirth's embrace. By the garden's edge, he watches as the winds tousle and play with your hair curls.

With each flicker of your essence, he can't help but feel a pang of frustration at his own inability to guard his heart against the allure of your presence. Each time your unpredictability unfolds before him, he curses his own vulnerability for the arising tenderness within him.

It vexes him deeply.

Gnawing at the recesses of his, once assumed, dormant heart. Yet, now brought to life by unknown sensations – fuzzy and irksome.

An elixir of life – you. Meant to be solely consumed by him.

Your intricate curls destined to be twirled in his fingers alone. Singularly, he'd stand as the privileged observer, captivated by your brilliant elegance. Your figure draped in the resplendent folds of an opulent kimono, delicately bestowed upon you by his hands.

Thus, he embarked on the sole course he could comprehend – take you.

Splitting you away from the familiarity of a family, hearth and hamlet; for in his eyes, your fragile essence demands his safeguarding against this wicked, cruel realm.

Persuading you, that a life enfolded in his embrace had no reason for trepidation. Your purity, too immaculate to endure the harshness of existence.

Yet, persuasion faltered; your resolute heart held no inclination to remain in his grasp. Mounting a relentless siege, to break free from him and his distorted path.

"You crave peril as I assume, so be it," He conceded. "But know this: I'll be the sole peril haunting your very being."

Pressed beneath the weight of his body upon the bed, your resistance proves to be futile against his strength. Leaving you ensnared in a struggle where defiance falters in presence of his immense power.

"Isn't this what you desired? Didn't you yearn for peril?" He questions, his forefinger trailed across the delicate curve of your neck, assessing the rhythmic beat of your pulse point.

"Fear not, I shall burn the world down to literal ashes until none poses a threat to you, save for me, of course."

For danger, befalling upon you while his eyes held the witness and hands were the forebearer of pain – he'd allow. After all, he embodied peril, haunting humanity for centuries.

"My dearest," He began, twirling a blade before your defiant gaze. "I've wielded this to afflict your kin but fear not, it shall yield pure ecstacy for you."

Said so, he thrusted the timber end of the blade within your slick, delicate folds. Your screams shunned out over his malevolent laughter, fingers twisted the cotton sheets as he glided the blade in-and-out of you.

Blood dripped down his wounded hand, staining the white to red, yet his countenance held no response to pain. Gaze fixated upon your shuddering form, underneath him.

He was no stranger to the acts committed in bed. Knowledgeable of all ministrations and threads he needed to ensnared in order to make it pleasurable. Yet, you found no pleasure in this undoing.

The act of intimacy, which you envisioned to be filled with love while your lover would pepper kisses on your skin much akin to the gentle touch of spring's warmth.

That dream left shattered like shards of glass when your chastity was cruelly left to ruins under his harsh caress.

The night stretched on, your anguish unending as he remained vigilant, subjecting you to his torment.

When it ceased, he gingerly held your fragility while tears streamed down your eyes. He cradled your head in his palm, enfolding your trembling form against his chest as he murmured endearments into your parched ears.

You feebly hit on his chest, for you were seeking comfort from your captor – a sickening act.

He brought you pain and despair, yet here he was, bringing you solace in his arms. A sickening man, indeed, he was.

And with him, you were to stay.

.

You kneeled before the shrine deity.

Decked in a white shiromuku with traces of pink pattern embellishing the fabric, haori lowered just above your lips – grateful to the one who dressed you. Moisture laden lashes would've been a sight for sore eyes.

Beside you, your husband knelt. A black montsukini hakama draped around your self-proclaimed fiance and soon to be husband. Perhaps, you'd have seized the moment to admire him in such a lavish attire if he didn't commit the acts he did.

Abduction and coercion reigned heavy on your mind, the priest's chanting muffled over your loud thoughts. Your fear of the impending, palpable.

Later, you stood by his side, bedecked in jewels, unknown to you. Countless villagers and curses bowed before you but you were a foreigner to such deference.

It was his decree. For he was the King of curses and you – his consort, his queen.

.

Sukuna witnessed you gazing at the pond situated in his garden.

You gazed upon the lotus blooming at the heart of the pond, longingly. Reaching out for it, the trailing end of your garment splashed in the water – a futile attempt, too distant to grasp.

He stifled a snort on the brink of his lips as he descended into the garden, tethering on the stoned pads placed in between soil – approaching you.

"You desire that flower, wife?"

You rose swiftly, clutching the dampened hem of your attire. Refusing to meet his gaze, you brushed off the fabric, clearing away the soil.

"Apologies," You murmured. "I was just curious."

"That doesn't answer my question." He stated, an arch of his eyebrow at your frame. "Do you yearn for it?"

Standing before him, a hush lingered in the air, mere seconds passing. Fingers fidgeting, you nibbled on your inner cheek.

"Perhaps," you admitted, finally locking eyes with his feet once he takes a step forward. Bracing for the inevitable, you tightly shut your eyes.

You shouldn't have considered it. Entertaining the thought of plucking it behind his back, hoping he wouldn't notice, all the while unaware of his presence. You should have realized. Defiance in the past had met harsh retribution. This would be no exception.

"I beg–"

"Enough," He interjected.

You gritted your teeth, fists clenched tightly. This was worse. A single mistake, and you're sealed to a worse fate.

Yet, the vision never bore life.

He took your right hand, delicately clasping it within his own. Slowly, he pried open each finger, tenderly placing something within. Curiosity overrides your apprehension, and you cautiously open your eyes – finding the lotus nestled in your palm.

Your lips parted in astonishment as you gaze up at him, wonderstruck.

"Apologies should not leave your lips for trying to claim what is rightfully yours." He asserted, a ghost of an arc perched upon his lips.

"You desire something, you speak up," He waited, letting the words sink down. "Its upon me, how I'll bring it to fruition."

.

"You are to accompany master to dinner tonight," Uraume conveyed, head and eyes lowered in a humble bow.

The fusuma slid shut, signaling their departure, leaving you to your solitude once again.

Lately, companionship has been ceased from your existence. Confined to your chambers by Sukuna's decree that none other than he should share a moment with you. Save for his devoted servant and few maids he deemed worthy, who prepared you for the day.

Upon your bed, you rested, gazing into a void. Softly humming a melody, reminiscent of a distant song, echoing from the depths of your memory; harkening down the familial embrace in your ancestral village.

The day commenced to dusk, the sky donning a cloak of darkness – welcoming the night's silhouette.

Attended by chosen handmaidens, you were draped in a lavish kimono of crimson and ivory. Crushed red cherry paste graced your lips, a stroke of kohl ran along your lashlines.

You beheld your reflection, lovely; yet the joy eluded you. Unable to savor your captivating visage amidst your plight.

You were escorted to the dining hall by Uraume. As the doors parted, your captor, your husband, awaited you; seated on the head of the table. You took your place across him, evading his malevolent stare, your attention fixed solely on the delicacies presented by the servants.

"Afraid to meet my gaze, wife?" He inquired, his smirk palpable in his tone.

Still, you didn't meet his gaze, eyes fixed on your folded hands resting neatly on your lap. "I fear, I am not deserving to meet your eyes, your highness."

His sight danced upon your figure, measuring you as though you were his quarry. A chuckle escaped him as he poured the sake in his ochoko, indulging in a sip.

"Amusing, how you speak so when you are moons away from birthing my offspring, wife."

Your frame grew rigid, lips drawn tight whilst you glanced at your burgeoning womb.

Restraints couldn't bond you to him forever, he comprehended that moons past. Thus, he had to resort to unruly stratagems. Seeding you with his progeny – rendering you incapable of fleeing him.

If only, you acquiesced and remained by his side, as he craved, he wouldn't have acted thus. But your resolve left him with no alternative.

Not a matter to ponder his head upon, he would've planted his seed in you eventually. A kinship with you, his aspiration.

"I wouldn't leave you famished in such a state, wife. Begin eating." He declared, slicing a strip of meat with his chopsticks.

Eating, as if it were possible in such a condition. The satisfaction of a hearty meal has long deserted you. You didn't suspect the flavors of dishes perched before you. Furthermore, you lacked appetite.

You partook in meals solely to survive.

With adjoined palms, you offered a silent prayer to the almighty reigning above you. And so, you began.

.

Blood bathed the tatami mats of your chambers.

A severed head of a, newly appointed, handmaiden, laid near your feet. Her corpse, probably resulted into hundreds– no thousands of strips, indistinguishable.

Your stance remained rigid and motionless. Terror evident on your countenance, fragile fingertips shaking with shock and apprehension.

"Ah wife," Your husband's voice echoed in your ears. He approached you, stepping over the puddle of blood and sliced flesh.

"You weren't supposed to witness that– come," He gingerly caressed your skin, ushering you out of his chambers with a hand on your back.

"Uraume," He summoned his loyal servant, as on cue, they knelt before their master. "Have the maids tidy this mess."

With the subtle nod, Uraume pivoted around, carrying out their master's command alike a proclamation from thee almighty.

Snapping a life wasn't on his schedule today. He wished to spent it with you, hence summoning you back to your chambers.

Perhaps, a foolish handmaiden, attracted by his visage, made the decision to lure him with her appeal. Lowering her uniform to display her curve of of breast, singing praises of his brilliance to him.

Taken him to be resembling any ordinary man, giving into his desires by just any woman's revealed skin. Alas! He had no interest in any woman other than his wife.

An act of like that, only receives the treatment he'd bestow upon any mortal other than you.

Death.

.

"I must say, you look lovely, my queen." Twirling a strand of your hair, he pushed it behind your ear.

Upon the engawa of your husband's abode, you knelt, sight fixated on the swarm of fireflies illuminating the garden.

Sukuna held his stance beside you, lower two hands bearing his weight behind, the third perched upon his arched knee. He set the kiseru down with the fourth, his thumb and forefinger lifted your chin; coaxing your towards him.

"Intriguing, you are," He remarked, eyebrow arched.

"Such defiance you displayed upon our initial union, and now, you show indifference. Continuously subjecting me to such blank stares and compliance." A hint of exasperation lingered his tone.

"Isn't that what you wished for?" You retorted, a moment later.

Drawing you near, his lips brushed against yours, "Perhaps, I did do." He murmured, breath caressing your cheeks, prompting a flutter of your eyelids.

"But now, I yearn for something greater."

With that, he seized your lips in a fervent, fiery kiss. Only parting, a hair's breath away, to allow you to catch your breath.

He pivoted you gently, drawing you into his embrace. Two arms encircled your waist, one caressing your swollen belly. Third, Brushing aside your hair, you heard the tinkling of ornaments. Moments later, a chain adorned your neck, a crimson gemstone nestled between your collarbones.

"Ruby?"

"Rubies are ill-suited during pregnancy, its diamond" He corrected, whispering beside your ear, securing the clasp of the chain. "Unlike most, this one's tint sets it apart than rest."

"For what?" You questioned, assessing the gem like it were poison. Grasping it between your middle finger and thumb, the lantern lights reflected on its surface. Though small, you knew it amounted to more than your ancestral wealth.

"Do I need a reason to spoil my wife with jewels?"

A moment passed in silence, your gazed him through your peripheral vision, the next. "Perhaps not, its beautiul."

"Turn around," He commanded, you complied instinctively. Turning your body to face him.

His gaze met yours at first, second they drifted to the chain bedecked on your neck and on third, he glanced at both, at once.

The jewel's radiance evoked with you being it's wearer.

A grin cracked upon his lips, gingerly holding your cheek in his calloused hands in which you begrudgingly leaned in. With a mouth, summoned on his palm, he placed a chaste kiss on your skin.

"Just how Intriguing you are, wife."

.

Love for your son eluded you.

A splitting image of his father with the identical hair and carmine tinted eyes. You pondered if he'd grow up to be just like your husband.

At days, you couldn't muster the courage to cast your eyes upon him. His mere presence: a testament to your plight, evidence that you were no longer the woman you once were and evidence to your compliance to Sukuna's desires.

Even then, you never shied away from your duties as a mother.

Perhaps, some love existed, for he wielded your flesh and blood too.

You were rendered from ever escaping. Though half-heartedly, you didn't wish to leave your child with Sukuna even though you despised both of their existence.

In this era, nurturing a child as a sole woman was beyond grasp. For all held the thought, as a woman your sole duty was to remain by your husband's side and bear his offspring.

You couldn't return to your home either. Your father, though loved you, would never let you set foot in his abode ever again.

Reasons: You were abducted by a man, your chastity stripped off of you. You were no longer pure in any sense.

He wouldn't tarnish his family name and reputation for just a daughter.

Moreover, your matrimony with the wicked, king of curses had reached rivers far; binding you to his side forever.

Peril loomed at every turn, dangling your life by a single thread. Easily snapped by even the weakest of men. Sukuna's adversaries would leave no stone unturned to reach him, venturing as far to lay down the life of his innocent wife. Someone absolved of his transgressions.

Reluctantly, you accepted that remaining by his side was the wisest decision.

You cradled your son in your embrace, rocking him back and forth as you hummed a lullaby to put him to sleep.

Once his snores serenaded the room, you tenderly placed him upon his cot, adjacent to your own resting place. Gentle pats graced his chest, once you noted him stirring in the embrace of slumber.

"Come to bed," Your husband's voice echoed in your ears. Compliance swiped in your being, a swift rotation of your heels after you had checked your son to be far from awakening. You parted the curtains and perched upon the bed – lying beside your husband.

His arms encircled around your waist, drawing you to his chest, he inhaled your scent.

Your body tensed when his lips brushed against your nape. You dreaded the inevitable.

Six moons had passed, since he last embraced you intimately. The last two, post your son's arrival, were a blur of exhaustion. From tending to your physical strain and catering to your son's ceaseless crave of attention.

Tonight, all you longed for was to surrender yourself to slumber, wrapped in embrace of gentle linens. Alas, it seemed that wish would remain unfulfilled.

You were keenly aware of his intentions tonight – for he was but a man. Thus, you braced yourself.

You waited in anticipation, for him to act on his desires. Yet, it did not come to pass.

You cracked your eyelids open, stealing a glance at him. His carmine eyes met yours in a resolute stare, holding it with unwavering poise.

"Retire to sleep," he finally remarked, tenderly brushing aside the tendrils from your weary visage.

A year prior, during the early nights of your newly forged union, you would have taken a moment to contemplate his actions, perhaps even staying awake the entire night to discern his intentions.

Now, whether out of trust or simply exhaustion from the demands of motherhood – you found yourself slipping into a dreamless slumber without further ado.

The haunting nightmare of humanity, he was; yet, you found solace in falling asleep in his embrace.

.

His son has taken just after you.

Verily, his offspring could be likened unto a veritable likeness of himself in countenance, yet in comportment and carriage, he bespoke tales of you.

Awaking to the crack of dawn, shedding tears should companionship elude him. Taking solace in the embrace of the verdant garden, to which you oft escorted him. Even directing reproachful glances towards him, his father, whilst cradled lovingly in his paternal arms.

Beneath your eyes lay heavy shadows, hollows etched upon your cheeks, and a perpetual frown graced your lips, save for moments spent conversing with your offspring.

Sukuna escorted his sobbing kin from their chambers, affording you the much-needed respite that has eluded you of late; his offspring casted a disdainful gaze upon him.

"What? Speak up if you wish to," He queried, a playful lilt adorning his speech.

He tenderly traced his son's tender cheek with his claw, wary of leaving any mark upon his cherubic visage. His son seized his finger in both tiny hands, elevating it as though clutching a covert weapon – scrutinizing the nail and the ridges with keen interest.

His little one beamed, a gesture akin to the gentle breeze of summer, bestowed upon him by the heavens above. A giggle swift past his lips – a laughter, he assumed angel's melody wouldn't sound better.

His smile was yours – Sukuna realized. Perhaps, he hadn't completely taken after him in physical features.

Rocking his form back and forth on his arms, a tender smile danced upon his lips.

"Lower the tone, child. Your mother rests inside."

.

Sukuna couldn't help but contemplate alternative scenarios.

He sipped his sake, his gaze fixed upon your figure, leaning against the amado – your eyes lingering on the cherry blossom trees outside, in the garden.

The fragrance of spring permeated the air, imbuing a soothing atmosphere, starkly contrasting with the terror he instilled upon the village beyond the river.

At moments such as these, he can't help but ponder on the possibility of attaining a kinship with you, without resorting to unruly methods.

His thoughts rewind to the clash conversation he shared with you, mere moments past.

In your gaze, defiance ablazed, aimed straight at him.

"What's your intent? To end my life? Proceed, now. Who held you back? Proceed. Perhaps, I'd choose that fate over spending another day with you."

"Make no mistake," You pressed on. "My sentiment for you isn't love, don't deceive yourself. What festers within me is pure, unadulterated hate."

How could he let slip from memory? A curse he was, brutal and unyielding. Unwelcomed, marked with shame – The disgraceful one. How could he fail to recall? Love's realm, forever beyond the reach of his reach.

He seized you, by means unorthodox yet deemed vital. Yet, he finds himself lost in contemplation.

What if he had treaded a different path?

Would a love aglow your heart if he had courted you in a proper manner? Would you accept him in your life – a husband, a companion, a lover? Would you had willingly become his? 

For your presence brought his heart back to life; in doing so, the life and light was lost from your eyes.

Scorned by the desire to claim you as his, the thought of your own desires, feelings was pushed to the desolate corners of his mind.

In another realm, he assumes– in another realm, he might have treated you properly from the very beginning.

In another realm, you wouldn't have to have a lingering threat struck on your mind. You wouldn't fear him.

In a realm beyond, you'd stand beside him by choice, not coercion. A realm where he'd navigate every step flawlessly. A realm where, instead of vowing to set the world ablaze for you, he'd pledge to journey with you until the world's end.

Perhaps, in another realm, you'd fall in love with him like he did for you in this.

A/N: uhm uhm uhm, just typed down an idea which I had for days + I used a new format of literal english (idk how it turned out, I am so sorry if it's cringe 😭) + I fucking don't know how to end stories so bear with me.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Part 4 to Truth or Dare Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Something has changed; no, actually everything has changed as you and Simon forget the world a moment finally let that passion run its course. The thought was that once you both had each other it would make things calm, but now you're not so sure. Maybe he is willing to risk more and maybe you are too. Having to sneak around isn't so bad, right? Maybe it could all work out... At least you hope so.

Word Count: 9.3 k

Warnings:

Part 5: Read here

Isn’t finally having the thing you’ve been craving supposed to calm the need for it? 

That’s what Simon had anticipated would happen once you had both come, but as he lays you back onto the cool floor of the shed, sliding up between your legs so that your lips can reconnect with an immediate breathlessness, the depth of his desire is still so overwhelming that he is choking on it, he has never felt more wrong. Gathering your wrists into one of his hands, he sets them above your head as his brown eyes flutter closed and he embraces your mouth as if it is his to ruin and with enough passion you feel drugged off its intensity.

No, finally having you has awakened a longing in him that he has never known before and nothing can stop it taking over until he feels completely consumed by it. 

The sounds of the stormy weather outside slowly die away and are replaced by the stillness of night as Simon’s wide torso keeps you pinned against the ground as if by the act of physically shielding you from the world he can stop the passage of time and stay immersed in the haze of ecstasy that your union has produced. How is he supposed to break the spell of this feeling when he didn’t know how starved for it he actually was until you brought it to the surface?

Time is forgotten as the pressure of his body molds yours to its curvature and soon another quarter of an hour has passed within a blink. One of you has to be the voice of reason and the longer his face stays locked to yours, the harder it is going to get; it’s inevitable that this has to end for now because he is drowning and if he doesn’t come up for air soon he isn’t going to make it out of here alive. Something has to be done and done fast. 

“We need ta get outside,” he murmurs through a break in your mouth’s connection. 

Why can’t the world just fucking wait a little longer? Goddammit, he is nowhere near done exploring you yet, but there is still a job to be done and duty has to call him back no matter how much he tries to wish it away. 

With a defeated groan he pulls his lips away from yours and suddenly a wave of misery washes over him. “Fuck, this is hard, luv,” Simon breaths into your face, the tip of his nose brushing up against yours as he struggles to keep his mouth away from taking yours again. “Just wanna stay here with ya all night.”

A shiver runs through you as his withdrawal from your lips leaves an emptiness in your chest that the cool night air seems to fill. You yearn for his mouth to come back, for him to say fuck it all and put it all on the line just to stay in here with you, but it’s not possible. 

You don’t fight it as he sits you both upright, keeping his arms around you for as much warmth as possible as he reaches over to first grab your bra and shirt off the ground. He makes certain to clean you up before helping you to slip the clothing back on to block out the weather so that he can release you without the temperature making you chilled. Simon gets to his feet and offers you his hand to help you up and you take it. 

You continue to watch in quiet surprise as he gathers the rest of your clothing, everything that he had removed just a short while ago. Except instead of just handing it off to you he bends down with your pants in hand and opens them up so that you can step into them. It’s a strangely tender ritual that you’ve stumbled into, the way he helps you get dressed as he does the same to himself in tandem: insisting without words by gently pushing your hands away each time you try to stop him so that he can zip your pants and buckle your belt up himself. You stand there silently through the delirious haze of your ecstasy admiring his work as a peculiar tugging aches in your chest. 

Another shiver runs up your spine, but it isn’t from being cold this time. 

Everything he had on before goes back on again, even the mask, though you notice his bone-patterned gloves stay shoved in the pocket on his vest. As he finishes his eyes drift to the door with a heavy heart because he knows that he’s stalled long enough and he is going to have to pull the bandaid off now otherwise he is never going to want to leave and someone needs to be on watch. 

A deep inhale and he opens the door to the refreshing, crisp atmosphere outside of your oasis. Simon emerges into the world as a different man than the one that went inside. He has a new addiction that leaves him feeling drunk with the way his head is still spinning and limbs feel heavy. Never did he think he would be forced to wrestle with the fact that his duty to this taskforce is no longer the most important thing to him, that everything he has known as truth is being turned on its head, and that it would be all because of you. A little infatuation is becoming more complicated and he doesn’t know how to handle it all.

Your eyes flit back towards the house as Simon shuts and secures the shed behind you with your heart sinking into your stomach. Wracking your brain you can’t come up with any more excuses to linger longer and you know it’s time to say goodnight whether you want to or not. 

“I-I guess I better head in,” you say as the lieutenant comes back to stand by your side, the disappointment in your voice hard to disguise. 

There are words on your tongue that you want to say in that moment, to bargain with him to keep you out here a little longer, but they get lost behind your lips and you instead stay silent; there is no sense in fighting the inevitability of your situation. You try to take a step, but before you can even make it a pace Simon’s hand reaches out and his knuckles brush up against yours before he hooks his fingers around your own so you are stuck in his grasp.

The act is done unintentionally, yet he doesn’t stop it. Maybe you could risk just a bit more time together as long as you can stay outside. There’s still a couple hours till Soap is scheduled to relieve him, so whatever excuse he can make to keep you out here with him, he will. 

“Have a smoke with me ‘fore ya go,” he says, more a demand than a request. 

Maybe he’s just as desperate not to have you go yet either; you can only hope that he needs your company just as bad as you need his. “Is that an order, lieutenant?” you clarify, playing off the nervous adrenaline making your voice tremble by teasing. 

As he peers back into your eyes sparkling in the moonlight, lighting up happily at the sentiment in his words, the attraction gripping his heart is too strong and he draws you back into him as he rips up the bottom of his mask to place another brief, but impassioned kiss to your lips. “It is, sergeant,” he answers. “Let me do my perimeter check and I’ll meet ya back at the front. Wait for me, yeah?”  

Those strong arms of his desperately want to stay filled with your body, but he has to let you go so that he can do what he is here to do. Another quick kiss he gives you before he pulls down his mask as he leaves you standing there in a stupor, head reeling with everything that has happened, and you take off back to the patch of ground a few yards from the front of the house where you had been set up before. 

Sitting in the grass under the stars with the cool breeze rippling through the loose strands of your hair, you think yourself alone for the moment as the thoughts race through your mind, but from within the house a pair of eyes secretly watches you from the shadow of the window. Even in the pale moonlight they catch the way your smile glints through the dark followed by the several deep breaths you take to calm yourself and they wonder if this is a result from the lieutenant walking out earlier that rustled them from sleep. 

Maybe it is nothing, something completely harmless, though they can’t help to wonder where you both were when the storm was at its peak. They continue watching until they hear footsteps near the front of the house and decide to creep back to their bed to avoid detection both from inside and out, making a mental note to stay aware of what they have seen tonight. 

You wait patiently in silence as you mull over your feelings until the sound of fast-stepping boots approaching breaks you out of your thoughts and looking up you see Simon has stopped right at your side. He shifts back a step and takes a seat on the ground behind you, parting his legs around your thighs so that you are seated between them. Tugging you to scoot back until you are against his chest he grabs the pack of cigarettes from his vest pocket as an arm snakes around your middle.

Keeping his hands off you isn’t an option anymore, not as the enchanting magnetism of your body that calls for his touch still tingles under his fingertips.

Moving his mask up and out of the way and placing the stick of tobacco in between his lips, he flicks the lighter to make it spark and takes a long pull as the tip glows bright orange. That first kick of nicotine he holds in to let it fully coat his lungs until the calming effect it produces fills his chest and pacifies his heavily beating heart. He exhales the billow of smoke and takes another puff before handing it down to you.

You’re not much of a smoker, but accept the cig willingly if only for it to chill you out so that you might be able to sleep once you leave here to go back to the house. Bringing it to your lips, you inhale deep as Simon’s head rests up against the side of yours. The contact causes you to shudder in his arms

“Are ya cold?” he asks, tilting his head around the side to catch your face in his sight. 

You shake your head, releasing the smoke from your mouth with a smile. “Not anymore” you answer as you pass the cig back for him to take his turn and settle against him. 

“Good,” he says through the inhale he takes, “can’t have ya bein’ uncomfortable, not wit me.”

There is a peace that settles over you both, cloaking you in a silence that doesn’t feel forced or uncomfortable. No words are needed to fill in the space, nothing that has to be said aloud anyway, as two people simply enjoy the physical company of the other, passing a cigarette back and forth taking shorter and shorter puffs to make it last as long as possible.  

The fact you cannot stay here in this moment for as long as you want feels like a crime.

Leaning your head on his shoulder, your gaze shifts towards the sky and you can see the clouds drifting away into the distance to reveal the clear night full of stars that has been concealed behind them. You stare up at those twinkling bits of light with a sense of wonder, unaware that Simon has not followed your gaze heavenward. 

“Clouds are finally clearing out,” you say offhandedly. “Guess the storm’s passed on. You know, I always like how beautiful the sky is after a heavy rain. All that chaos leads to everything becoming so pristine.”

There is something here that he finds beautiful, but it isn’t what’s swirling up above your heads; he’s holding it in his arms. He wants to say it aloud, he can feel the sentiment tickle the back of his throat, but for a reason he does not quite understand he stops himself and simply hands you back the cigarette after he takes his turn.  

It isn’t long until the cig has dwindled to nothing and once again you are thrust back into the reality of having to part. You check your watch as Simon flicks the butt away; it’s getting late and you need to get inside to try and get some rest so that you will be able to at least function tomorrow. 

“I should go, your relief will be coming before too long,” you say as the feeling of his lips pressing to your neck.

Simon nods against your shoulder as he too knows it’s time. He releases his arm from around you as he shifts you back to face him; one last look at you before you go.

Why is it so hard to find the words? He’s never been as tongue tied as he has been around you, but he’s able to settle on a phrase that he finds suitable enough. “Sleep well, yeah?” he says and you give a smile in response.

The feeling of his mouth hits you as he leaves you with one last kiss for you to take and you move up onto your feet a little less gracefully than you want after he breaks it. Your hand trails over his shoulder as you take off towards the house without looking back, feeling that you are stepping out of a dream as you make it to the door and shut it behind you.

His sight remains on your form until you step back inside the confines of the house and out of view. Suddenly being alone in all this silence has his mind spinning as it goes over the events that have transpired tonight. He’s usually so in control of himself, years of training making him the perfect soldier to push everything aside except for the task at hand, but now his emotions are running rampant through his veins.  

Though you’ve not really been too close before this, you aren’t strangers. Simon knows you already: he has been around you long enough to understand your sense of humor, your work ethic, how well you boost morale during long missions, your constant kindness no matter the circumstance, and you know him in similar ways too. It comes with the familiarity of serving together for the last couple of years, making the quick intensity of your intimacy so natural.

Taking another cigarette from his pack, he inhales more of the numbing smoke as his mind involuntarily wanders back to how you felt in his arms and how perfectly your curves fit into their embrace. It’s better than he had ever hoped it to be during all those restless nights he spent telling himself that his infatuation with you would pass, that you deserved better than a bastard like him, that he should leave you alone. Now with everything that has happened between you and even though he knows it's wrong, he needs you so fucking bad… what he deserves be damned.  

You make him feel alive for the first time in years and fuck is that something that has him in it’s clutches.

Now he just has to figure out how to keep this up without detection. The lieutenant ponders the rest of the night until he is suddenly brought out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. “Ya came back for…” he says as he turns with a smile on his exposed lips as if expecting you to be standing there only to be met with the masculine, stubble-covered face of his other sergeant, causing him to startle and rise to his feet, dropping his nearly finished cigarette as he scrambles to calculate a way to explain his statement.

“Came back?” Soap questions, his eyebrow raised curiously as a knowing smirk spreads across his mouth. “Nah, first time I been out ‘ere. Didn’t mean to scare ye, just ‘ere as yer relief. Seems yer a bit lost in yer head tonight LT. Were ye expectin’ someone else?”  

A quick clearing of his throat as the lieutenant stomps out the butt of his smoke and pulls down his mask to hide the surprise on his face. “No,” he says firmly, “just didn’t expect ya ta be so fuckin’ quiet. It’s not like ya ta not make noise.”

Soap eyes the lieutenant up and down, but doesn’t push his joking any further, even though he has the perfect opportunity to pick on his superior because even in the dim light outside he is sure that his shirt is on backwards. The look in the lieutenant’s eyes says it all, that he doesn’t want to be messed with, and the young sergeant decides it best to leave it alone by sending the lieutenant on his way with nothing more than a nod as he takes up the post.   

By the time Simon reaches the inside of the house, you are already fast asleep in your cot from what he can see in the darkness that fills the room. You have always caught his eye, but God, you look so fucking beautiful just in your natural state. He quickly surveys the room to be sure everyone is still out before he quietly and carefully steps up to your side on the way to his own bed. 

 With a light touch his fingertips gently brush over the loose hair near your ear to tuck it securely behind as he studies your calm and serene face. You don’t stir and he doesn’t want to wake you, so he creeps back over to lay down in his own cot, keeping his eyes focused on your form through the pitch black until sleep finally takes him as only one thought rolls through his mind.

Tomorrow evening can't come soon enough. 

The day goes off just as it should without a hitch, though the way the lieutenant has had to keep his distance from you has proved to be much more agonizing than he had hoped. So, as soon as everyone is asleep, he does not hesitate to join you near the end of your watch the same as the night before. The thrill of this new and exciting connection is the catalyst that pushes him to ignore any warnings in his mind to take this slow; he wants to be near you as much as he can as he realizes that he can’t deny what he wants if he is going to keep up appearances when the sun is out. 

Sitting in the spot that is becoming the usual meeting place, you are caught by surprise as his rough palm grazes the skin underneath your chin as he tilts it back to him while his other hand cradles the back of your head. His full lips are already exposed so that the moment your eyes meet he is already bowing his head to envelope your mouth entirely with his own so hard that the hair on his jaw pricks your face as his tongue slips in to taste you.

And the midnight world behind your closed eyelids explodes into fireworks.

Minutes pass without a care as his kisses take you away into a realm of pure bliss, the passion collapsing any reality outside of him and the microcosm his touch creates. In that timelessness wrapped in all of that euphoria he finally breaks away to rest his hand against your cheek, silently stroking it with the pad of his thumb as that piercing gaze follows the contours of each and every detail that comprises your face as if he wants to commit them all to memory. 

“What?” you ask quietly after a few seconds, curious about what he is thinking.

He shakes his head as he answers. “Nothin’,” he says quietly without stopping. “Just like lookin’ at ya is all.”  

Breathing becomes near impossible as the tug on the strings of your heart is enough to make you collapse. Who would have guessed that behind that rough exterior that the lieutenant dressed himself in day after day is a man whose heart is bigger than he lets on? It is clear from his kiss alone that he has been struggling all day to keep it together just as you have, but now that you are back together again all that evaporates into thin air.

Simon takes his place sitting wrapped around your body and the moment his hands brush against the bare skin of your arms, your breath catches in your chest and your pulse begins to race. The feeling of the heavy pounding he can sense through his palms and that excitement immediately floods his body, making his touch start to wander.

“You aren’t concerned about anyone catching us?” you ask as you lean into his chest. 

Simon shakes his head. “They can’t see anythin’ from this angle,” he reassures. “I gotcha, don’t worry; I just need ta feel ya again, pretty girl. But tell me ta fuckin’ stop and I will.”

Those strong fingers play cautiously around the waistband of your pants as he waits for your response. His body is beginning to vibrate with how instantaneous his need overtakes him as you are under his touch again. 

“Don’t stop,” you breathe. “Don’t ever fucking stop, Simon.”

You can feel his lips near your ear. “Open your legs for me,” he urges in a deep, guttural groan that makes the hair on your arms stand up as he uses both hands to undo your pants and slip inside them. 

Everything goes so fast after that: the way he has you moaning and panting like a dog in heat is almost too easy and before you can think your pants are off and he is desperately thrusting his aching cock inside you. It is becoming apparent that his appetite for you is insatiable and as you come you realize that this is going to be a delicious problem that you don’t want to find a solution to other than this.

“Just so ya know, pretty sure your pal Mactavish knows somethin’s up ‘tween us, though,” he chuckles as you finish fixing your clothes and sit back down facing him. 

You knew this was a possibility, especially after all the jokes he’s been making lately, but hearing it out loud just solidifies a worry you’ve had rummaging around in your head since the beginning of all this. The anxiety must be present on your face as Simon feels compelled to continue. 

“If he wanted to, he coulda done something about his suspicions long ‘fore now. Just wants ta be a little shit ‘bout it is all,” he says.

That’s not what concerns you the most; Johnny has never betrayed your trust before and you are mostly sure he wouldn’t now. No, getting caught doesn’t seem half as distressing as the thought that has you in its chokehold. You hold Simon’s gaze with worry in your eyes. “Does this mean we shouldn’t do this again? I mean… if Johnny suspects then that means something must have been a sign to give us away and any of them could pick up on it as well.”

“Is that what ya want?” he questions back as a lump forms in his throat that he desperately tries to swallow down. “Do ya want ta stop this?”

Simon knows this would be the best option, to call it before things get even more out of hand than they already are, but as he waits anxiously for your answer all he can think about is how much it’s gonna fucking hurt if you pull away from him now.

“See, that’s the problem,” you admit with hesitance as you divert your gaze, unable to look into his face; you can’t take this back once you say it aloud. The intensity of it all has you unsure of yourself, but there is something about Simon that causes you to be honest, even to a fault. 

“I don’t want to stop,” you sigh.

The instantaneous relief that immediately hits is overwhelming and unconsciously Simon’s hand reaches out to turn your face back to him. “Then I don’t either,” he confirms as the pad of his thumb strokes over the smooth skin until your features soften and he can finally steady his pounding heart again. “We’ll just have ta be careful is all. I’ve… wanted to be near ya for a long while now, even before Mactavish pulled me into his silly fuckin’ game, and it would fuckin’ tear me up to give it all up so soon.” 

He had thought about you before? It surprises you to learn that you weren’t the only one that was struggling with infatuation. “Really?” you ask.

Simon nods as he takes your hand in his. “Needed ya for so fuckin’ long, thought I was gonna lose my goddamn mind. It’s been hard tryin’ to keep my distance. Christ, I used ta get so fuckin’ worked up at seein’ other recruits askin’ ya out, thought I was gonna break one of ‘em cause I wanted that ta be me.”

“Well, you have to worry about that anymore,” you say as you watch him gently play with your fingers. “I never wanted any of them anyway; they weren’t worth the trouble.”

“Then what do ya want, hmm?” he asks, watching you closely.

You look up from your hands to his face. “You,” the answer just comes out effortlessly. 

That word, that one fucking simple ass word is the only thing he has ever needed to hear. From that moment on there isn’t a night that passes without him finding some way to see you, whether it be for minutes or hours, he does what he must to get to your side. Even if the days are long and rough, he is missing sleep to be with you however he can.

It isn’t just about the sex, though his need for you stays insatiable. Simon starts to talk with you about anything and everything: what’s on his mind, anecdotes from his past, funny things to make you laugh, and you find yourself sharing in turn as well. On nights when things are too risky to even touch you as he wants, he finds himself just content to sit and share the thoughts in his head. It’s so easy to talk to you that sometimes he finds himself feeling like you’ve always been this way and it catches him off-guard how right it seems.

Time on this mission passes quickly in your company and sooner than you realize it is time to return to base, another success under your belts. You’ve both built a strange routine on your time away that you bring with you back home, though you’ve yet to have the discussion of defining what this is. Honestly, you don’t feel the need to; you are committed to him and he seems committed to you and in your line of work where guarantees aren’t always an option, that is enough. 

The only problem in returning is now that you are back you’ve gotten closer to the source of danger and with every risk you take as you navigate how to keep this all up, there are more scrutinizing gazes around to take notice of the bond you’ve formed. You’ll have to be twice as sneaky, twice as vigilant, twice as cunning to make sure you aren’t found out. Ultimately, it is a small price to pay because the alternative does not even register. You both make the promise to each other to do what you can to keep up this charade of normalcy to try and not get caught; whatever you have to do to keep seeing each other like this.  

But there are also benefits to being back, like dreaming about how you can actually screw around in a bed instead of on the ground or in a dilapidated building, if only you can figure out how to get some alone time. From the moment you set foot on home soil it’s like everything and everyone is determined to keep you both too busy to find the time after a mission that could not have gone smoother. 

And of course you can’t forget that Johnny is going to organize a night out at the bar now that you have a bit of free time. It’s his second favorite pastime, the first being a nuisance. It is right after debriefing the day after your return that the scottish sergeant catches up to you to tell you the news and make sure that you are on board for the plan.

“Yer comin’ yeah?” he asks as he finishes giving you all the details about when the usual group is gonna take off later that night.

Goddammit, you curse internally. 

All you want to do is get a few measly hours with the man your heart pines for daily now, but that option is immediately crushed the moment Johnny utters the question. Of course you can’t say no, it’ll look suspicious to back out without any reason since you’ve never backed out of these sorts of things before. Simon loiters not a few feet away, having hoped he could capture you a moment just to steal a quick word and maybe a kiss, and you sneak a quick glance over at him, hoping he can read the apologetic expression in your eyes.

Your glance doesn’t seem to be subtle enough and Johnny follows the hastiness of your eye-line over to none other than the lieutenant who is standing at the end of your gaze. You hold your breath a second as you wait to see what he will say, but instead of making another snide, knowing joke at your expense, it’s like he only just now realized that he has left someone out of his plan and that won’t do. 

“Oi, LT, yer coming too, yeah?” he calls over to ask.

Soap’s timing might be terrible, but the idea of there being less people on base tonight might just play to the lieutenant’s favor. Perhaps after a bit of socializing you both can somehow slip away from the crowd and get some alone time together. It’s worth a try. 

“I guess,” Lt. Riley agrees, playing up the agitation in his voice to mask his true feelings.

Johnny turns his attention back to you. “See, even the lieutenant is coming. Are ye?”

You huff exasperatedly as you see from the corner of your vision Simon nod his head, giving you a sign to agree to go and it clicks. This might be a way to get near him again. “Fine, you got me. Who else is gonna keep you in check when alcohol is involved?” you pick as you sock your fist into his shoulder. “Can’t have you getting us banned from our favorite place over some bullshit.”

The bar is only fifteen minutes from the base, just close enough that you can all walk without having to drive; something that has saved your drunk asses on several occasions. You walk at the back of the group as thankfully Johnny is involved in a heated discussion with Gaz about something and is too busy to keep his eyes on you. Simon slips in close a few times to brush his knuckles against yours while shooting you hungry glances.  

You all settle into the routine of hanging at the local spot just as you always do; Johnny’s even wrangled a few others from base that weren’t on your recent team so that the tiny bar is packed with taskforce members. Everyone gets started on round one and then two, though you are able to keep nursing the one drink you ordered when you got here all night as you need to keep your wits while Simon is close.

A bit of laughter, a lot of conversation, and a couple of games of pool where you kick Johnny’s ass once he’s good and liquored up and the night is going fast. That’s when the lieutenant decides that he can’t take it anymore. You have both allotted enough of your night here that it wouldn’t look suspicious to head out and he decides it’s time; he wants to get you alone and if he doesn’t act soon the night will be over. Getting up from his seat he makes his move over to the wall where you are putting up your pool cue before you head back to the table with the rest of your teammates. He is at your side in no time and you nearly bump into him as you turn around, but he catches you so you don’t fall.

Simon leans in close against the side of your head and lowers his voice into a gruff whisper; he has to make this quick. “Ya wanna get outta ‘ere?”

Never have you agreed to something so fast before that you don’t even have to think about it; quickly you nod. 

“Meet me outside in ten, I’ll be waitin’,” he continues before pulling away expeditiously, hoping the interaction is brief enough that no one has seen. Your eyes dart down to your watch to catch the time so that not a second will be wasted, wanting to follow his directions to the letter. 

Your heart is pounding in your ears as you watch the lieutenant walk back to the table, finish off his scotch, and grumble his quick goodbyes before stalking towards the door and out into the night air. Each second that the clock ticks away takes what feels like an eternity and it is agony waiting for the last bit to pass so that you make your excuses to leave. 

The second hand finally hits the tenth minute mark and you immediately jump into making your excuse that you’re just really tired all of a sudden and need to head out before the alcohol makes you trip over yourself. It takes you a minute to placate the group, the lie seems flimsy at best, but  when you do you dart for the door before you can get pulled into any more conversations. 

Once outside you find Simon patiently standing there propped against the brick of the building near the corner where he is cloaked in shadow, taking a long drag from an almost finished cigarette that he holds in between his long fingers. The faint orange light glowing from the tip dances across the lower half of his exposed face to get caught in his eyes, making him look animalistic in the low light of the parking lot.

That autumn gaze pops up as he hears the approach of footsteps and he instantly flicks away the butt of his cig before you make it to him and he can immediately pull you close.

“Hope you weren’t havin’ too much fun back there,” he says with a nervous chuckle, “but it …uh… was gettin’ hard to sit there with ya so close and not be able to fuckin’ touch what I want. Couldn’t wait anymore.” 

“Likewise,” you agree. “I was ready to go.”

He can feel the way you tremble in his grasp as your eyes keep falling back to the area of his lips; it’s been a few days, you must be dying for them again just as much as he is dying for yours. Being under your relentlessly intimate gaze again has him growing hot and hungry and throwing caution to the wind he cannot hold back until you are completely safe.

“Come ‘ere,” he says as he pulls you by the belt until your body is flush against him. “Jus’ a quick one ‘fore someone sees.”

Not wasting a second he urgently leans his head down to meet your lips and take them with force and in a flash he is reeling through the overwhelming beast of his desire, not wanting to let go even to leave this unprotected spot. The strength it takes to break the magnetism causes his body to shudder, but eventually he is able to pry his lips away long enough so that he can break their charm. 

“Let’s get back to mine quick, yeah?” he struggles to ask against your lips as he is suddenly out of breath. “Don’t think they’ll miss us now and I’m done wastin’ time. Need ta take this opportunity ta spend some alone time with ya.”  

How could you say no to that? You aren’t about to pass up on a chance to be with Simon. Even though you don’t know how long you have, any amount of time is enough and you will make the most of it. “Let’s go,” you say and like that you both take off into the night.  

His hands stay plastered to your body the entire walk back, the forbidden nature of your endeavor to get onto base and into his quarters undetected making you both excited to the point of disorientation as pulses begin to race violently. The closer you get the more warm your cheeks become as sensitive nerve endings spark to life across your limbs and a familiar heat gathers between your thighs.

Hurriedly Simon opens the door and pulls you into the confines of his dimly lit room, the door quickly closing behind you both with a quiet latch. No sooner has the door shut than he is on you, crushing you in between him and the door as his mouth can’t stand being separated from yours anymore. 

“Goddammit, I just can’t fuckin’ leave ya be,” he breathes against your parted lips as he pulls your hip in tighter to him until he is sure you can feel the bulge forming in the crotch of his jeans. A pulsing meets your thigh as he rotates until you can feel that thick appendage prod into the muscle. “Ya feel how hard I am already, yeah? That’s what ya do to me, luv. Got me actin’ like I’m fuckin’ young again, excited ‘nd horny all the goddamn time.”

His hands now grasping at your shirt take hold and pull the scant article up over your head to toss to the floor. Your hands immediately move to his pants as he takes off his shirt to throw it next to yours; you have to remove any barrier between your bodies. In a flurry of lips and limbs you find yourselves naked as Simon pulls you to his bed ready to devour you… only instead of lust being the only emotion he feels, there is something else there.

In the quiet of his room the tension permeates the space like a heavy fog as he sits down on the soft surface of his mattress and pulls you on top of his lap. As skin is pinned to bare skin he is overcome with emotion and his hands begin to caress your body with such admiration as if you are made of something sacred. Walls he’s built up to keep everyone out have been dissolving since you were thrust into his life and now all of that comes to a head in this moment as he has to come to terms with how much he really cares for you.

There is a void inside of him that only you can fill. 

Those rough hands run up the length of your spine so tenderly, flat palms gliding over the curve of your smooth, exposed skin as he peers up into your face with clear intention. The way his eyes sparkle in the low light as he looks at you, his stare full of something more than just lust, makes your heart pound wildly in your chest. 

What is happening? You can feel the shift in the air as the passion you both have towards each other morphs into something cosmic in its intensity and suddenly you can’t breathe. It is overwhelming to be looked at like this, as if he would burn everything to the fucking ground and salt the earth just to have you, but you don’t want him to stop.

For so fucking long he has been waiting for something he never thought he would get to have. Yet the moment you touched him everything changed; you have broken him out of that state of being nothing more than a stoic statue, a man hardened by life so that he never let anything break past the barriers he erected, but suddenly that vicious cycle of wanting and never getting is finally over. And you did it all without ever even knowing it. 

Now the future actually feels like something he could look forward to, as long as you are in it.

“What?” you ask as his silent autumn gaze drifts over your body before it returns to your face.

“I hope ya know that you’re all I fuckin’ want,” he says with conviction as he leans up into you while grabbing your hips tightly so that he can flip you over onto your back, his body weight crushing you into the springs of the mattress. “That goddamn kiss did me in and I ain’t ever comin’ back. You belong ta me, ya hear? I don’t care ‘bout nothin’ else.”

“I’m all yours Simon,” you reassure with confidence. “And you are mine.”

Fiery kisses assault your mouth in desperate fashion, aggressively capturing your lips as if he hasn’t seen you in weeks as his fingers trace burning lines down your abdomen and over the curve of your hips. Pupils dilate and breaths hitch as nerve endings explode to life until you are bucking and writhing against his touch.

Your fingertips graze across the bulky muscles of his abdomen, dancing over the sparse covering of hair that leads down his V line to his pelvis and the sound of him trying to gulp down air to fill his lungs as his breath gets caught in his throat matches your own desperate sounds.

Fuck your touch sets him on fire more than it ever has and with a growl he moves down your body hastily as a new impulse takes control: to strap you to his face and suffocate. You barely have time to react as he reaches his destination at the end of the bed and lays himself flat on the mattress, his head moving in between your legs without hesitation. The hair on his chin pricks the delicate skin of your inner thighs to force you to whine as he uses his first two fingers to open you up so that he can nestle the tip of his tongue between your petals. 

His tongue drags up the length of your slit to collect that first bit of sweet juice to bloom along his taste buds before he reaches your aching clit where he teases feathery light circles around it to make you squirm before he thrust the pad up against it. There he begins to stroke with vigorous movements that are spurred on by the beautiful music he is causing you to make.  

So soft, so wet, so warm, why is this the first time he’s eaten you out? He has been denying himself of all this for what? Simon can hardly breathe, but he has never felt more alive.

Your vision blurs as you clamp your eyes shut, your head falling back while a back-arching vibration of pleasure throbs through your clit and you bite your bottom lip hard, trying to remember how to intake air through the haze caused by the intensity of his pace as with every press and movement from his tongue draws you closer to that razors edge.

Steadily that pressure continues to build as he takes the cues from your body on exactly how to tongue-fuck you into your orgasm. Sucking and licking, each stroke feverish, but effective. Nothing exists in the entire world outside of this bed: not consequences or repercussions that could come from getting caught, not reprimands or disciplinary actions that could lead to the ruination of both your careers. The ecstasy of you is worth all the goddamn bullshit you both may face for being together.

He desires you to the point of obsession and you crave him just as terribly.

Your honey coats his face, clinging to his cheeks and through the stubble on his jaw as his desire to fill your pussy with his cock takes hold, consuming him to the brink of insanity so that he is forced to rip his face out from within you. “Sorry, not done; need ta be inside ya,” he groans, needy and out of breath. “Want us to come togetha. You an me, sweetheart.”

“Yes, yes, together” you moan incoherently as you grip the sheets in your fists to steady yourself for what’s to come.

Sliding between your legs he positions himself on his knees and throws your ankles up onto his shoulders as he has to get as deep as he fucking can. He can see the glistening from between your lips and he knows you’re ready for him; there is no hesitation once he has you situated and with a strong thrust he is fully inside of you down to the very base of his cock.

Your hands rip from the covers and your fingernails dig into the muscles along his shoulder blades as you cry out while your body adjusts to his girth, each twitch as it throbs inside you pulsing against your g spot in the best way. Simon hisses as he struggles to collect himself as he bottoms out; he’s had you countless times at this point, but every single time the sensation your body produces is enough to make him see God.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmurs as he regains his composure enough to start slowly thrusting in and out, hips rolling over yours with a need that only grows. “Ya always have been. Fuck… I can’t believe how lucky I am ta get ta have ya ‘ere all to myself.” 

Each snap of his hips that shoves his cock deeper and deeper into you is a physical reminder that you are his, that you belong to him, and each buck of your body is a response that says claim me forever.  He wants to possess every single last centimeter of you, steal away all your sanity until there is nothing left of you except for him, and so he desperately grinds harder and harder to try and fill you full enough.

His thick abs contract and release with each thrust as he looks down on you, admiring the bright flush in your cheeks from his passionate movements. Each movement makes him strain harder and harder until his torso is coated in a thin, glistening layer of perspiration and yours is right there with him.

“Come on, baby,” he guides you through it, “I need ya to finish with me. I’m so fuckin’ close.”

Right there. It’s right fucking there; the precipice inching within reach with each stroke as your body readies itself to take the plunge. That warmth gathering at the base of your spine grows stronger causing your brows to knot together as your toes curl.

“Close,” you whimper. 

He’s almost there. “That’s it, sweetheart, just let go for me,” he praises as he reaches down between your bodies so that his fingers can stroke over your clit as he strains to keep himself from coming by digging his fingertips into your hip. 

A few more strokes as his fingers and cock work in tandem and the overwhelming sensation is enough to cause that deep ache finally find its remedy and your orgasm pops off, shooting through you like magma until your limbs go numb. Through your cries he picks up the pace and finally the warmth that had been building shoots through his body as he rips his cock out of you and buries it in the mattress underneath you as he milks himself dry.

Simon’s head hangs slack against your calves as his unsteady breath slowly returns to a tolerable rhythm before he removes your legs from his shoulders and rolls over onto the bed beside you, situating himself propped up on his pillow before pulling you closer to rest against his chest so that he can feel your pulse through his torso. You wrap your arm around his waist and hold on as you both simply breath until you have it under control.

Silently you bask in the glow of your euphoria as he holds you close, enjoying your presence in the place Simon’s never brought another person before. It’s a surreal experience to allow someone in so easily, but with you there is no other choice. He is lost in that thought until he notices how you begin to slump against him and he looks down to see you struggling to keep yourself awake. 

“I better go before I fall asleep,” you say softly as your tired eyes flutter to try and stay open as the exhaustion lulls you steadily towards slumber. “Don’t wanna get caught leaving in case anyone decides to head back early.”

His arms tethering you to his chest stay locked tightly around you. It is a terrible fucking idea and he knows it, but that stoic lieutenant cannot deny himself of what he wants, not tonight; he doesn’t want you to leave him alone again. 

“No,” he says with a hushed firmness in his tone. “Stay.”

Lifting your head up off his body, you turn your gaze up to look into his face. “You sure?” you ask skeptically as the palpitations of your heartbeat flood your ears. 

Surely he’s just taking the piss, right? You haven’t forgotten the promise you both made to be extra cautious and yet…you have to admit that you desperately want to stay.   

Simon’s opposite arm resting at his side moves across his bare torso until his hand can find and pick up the one you have lying against his chest. Silently he slips his fingers through the spaces in between your own, interlocking them together before he rests them back against his warm skin. It is a gesture that says all he needs it to say without having to utter a single word: he’s not going to let you go.

“They’ll be too fuckin’ hungover tomorrow to notice ya aren’t in your bed,” he murmurs into the dark. “You’re already tired, just stay ‘ere tonight.”

You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t stop what your heart wants and your worn out mind agrees. As you settle back down against him he brings his hand up to comb his fingers gently through your hair in a lazy, repetitious pattern until you are putty in his hands. 

What the fuck am I doin’? he thinks to himself as you lay in the crook of his arm slowly falling asleep to the sound of his calm and metered heartbeat. From the moment he finally had that first taste of you it is like everything has been turned on its head: priorities he once held as important are now shifting and thoughts he never imagined he’d have about someone suddenly seem closer than they have ever been.

He’s never allowed himself to get this close to anyone, never wanting to let another in enough to know him more than surface level, but with you it just seems so effortless. Now all he wants is to keep you around more permanently so that he can fall asleep lying next to you more nights. Everything is so clear when you are close and he doesn’t want to let it go; that both thrills and terrifies him. 

Though he cannot admit it to himself yet, not even to think of the word, he knows that he is falling hard and for the first time in a long while he is happy.

In this line of work, though, things can go south in an instant and if you don’t stay on your toes you can fall. And unfortunately things are about to come crashing down hard.

Those same pair of eyes that had been watching you both from the window of the safehouse are now glaring with rage at the lieutenant’s door as their owner’s blood boils over. The man watched you both leave the bar in a hurry, snuck out and caught you both kissing outside, followed you back to base and watched as you immediately headed for the lieutenant’s quarters, and now they are watching as you don’t seem to be leaving anytime soon and he is done.

Enough is fucking enough; he can’t take it anymore. The man wouldn’t feel so scorned by these actions if you had not previously turned him down when he had made his advances, citing that as flattered as you were that it wasn’t smart to get involved with anyone on the taskforce. “Would be inappropriate” you cited as the only reason you had to say no.  

And yet here you are sneaking around with the lieutenant like it’s nothing. 

No, if he couldn’t even be given a chance with you due to propriety, then why should your masked superior be given special treatment? He decides at that moment that he isn’t going to turn a blind eye anymore to this bullshit and immediately he turns heel to head in the direction of the officers building, hoping to catch the one person he knows can set this right. 

Captain Price sits behind the desk in his office even though it is late, obliviously absorbed in his work until he hears the repetitious knocks of someone standing at his open door followed by a familiar voice that draws his attention. A man stands there waiting for his admittance inside.

“Captain Price, sir,” the man addresses him formally. “I apologize for the late hour, I know you’re busy, but I need to speak with you.”

Price is intrigued by the urgency in his subordinate’s tone, it makes this impromptu visit seem vital that they speak. Knowing things around here it is most likely a problem that isn’t as bad as it seems and he nods for the man to come in, but he doesn’t move from his spot. “In private sir,” he insists.

“Shut the door,” Price agrees to the confidentiality and the soldier makes sure the door is secure before he comes to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Price waits until he is situated before pushing further as to what exactly has brought the soldier here. “Now, what’s this about then? Let’s get on with it.”

The soldier nods and starts talking. “I have some information that I think you will want to know about, sir. About rules that are being broken around here without your knowledge.”

“What sort of rules?” he asks, raising a bushy brow as he leans back in his chair; the soldier has his full attention now.

He has to tell; it isn’t right. No matter what the lieutenant has threatened to do to him if he says anything, he will not let this slide a minute more. “Misconduct between the lieutenant and your female sergeant and them engaging in an inappropriate relationship,” the private says, irately. “In fact, this isn’t the first time I’ve caught them either. And I know where they are right now.”

[lovincherries]

Corio's Pawn

a/n: first of all, I want to say hi! I know it's been a really long time since i've written anything and i wanted to say thank you for your patience. 2023 has easily been the hardest year of my life, and i am so grateful for all your messages and support. it has truly meant the world to me. hopefully you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. i love you guys! (p.s it's almost been a year since i have written anything, of course snow brought me out of my slump)

NOT PROOF READ! I AM LAZY

word count: 3,735

warnings: taking of virginity, dub con, breeding kink, just smut! corio being corio (bad), reader is curvy (idk actually, i think i only mention it once, but you could really skim those parts. it isn't central to the storyline tbh)

You had loved Corio long before he knew you existed. To you, he was everything you wanted, everything that you desired, everything that you longed for. To him, you were a shy girl, kind, sweet, but shy and rather unnoticeable, or you were unnoticeable. You don't know what did it, neither did he really. He didn't know if it was the harshness of district 12, or the uncertainty (and paranoia) that Lucy gray caused him that made him long for you when he arrived home, or if it were the fact that he really looked at you for the first time. You had the softness that he desired, and the look in your eyes that you would give up everything for him if he said the word. He desired that kind of relationship, one where he held the power and none of the vulnerability. With you, he had nothing to lose. There was no game you were playing, your eyes and quiet smiles held everything he needed to know.

Before he left for District 12, and before the 10th games, Corio considered love a waste of time and resources. After, he considered it a betting game that both sides were bound to lose. While he considered love a waste of time, his desires and needs were still prevalent and crowding his head with thoughts where plans and ideas should be. That's when you fell into his lap, his little rose. It didn't take him long to realize the hold that he had over you, and it took him even less time to put his charm to use.

He knew what you were, a good girl who came from good parents that raised her right. And while the whole world had long since passed the concept of purity, he knew it was something that your parents had taught to you. His little white rose. Except, he didn't want to keep you that way. He didn't have to ask if you were pure, it was something he could almost smell. Your innocence seeped out of your pores like a perfume he couldn't get enough of. Before, he never noticed you, now you were all he desired. He wanted to know all your curves and edges, wanted to fulfill your desires, he wanted to take you. Most of all, he desired to see your cheeks red, your eyes dark with desire, and his cum filling you up.

You and Corio had been seeing each other for a few months, and while you tried to pretend like it wasn't the most exciting thing to ever happen to you, it was. He was all you could think about, all you could talk about with your parents, and he was the only person you wanted to see. You were oblivious to his charm, blinded by everything that he promised to you. You were funnier and more interesting than he originally gave you credit for, he could actually relax around you and laugh, but he would never turn off the person he presented to be. He couldn't wait for much longer though, his composure was slipping, and all he could think about was being wrapped into your legs and diving into you. Your kisses were sweet and genuine, you kissed him with love, but he wanted something darker. He needed it. It was something you didn't intend to give to him though, not that you really knew what you were giving or not.

Your parents had long taught you that certain things were for married couples, after all, if you weren't pure you weren't going to be any good to them to marry off. Even to them you were a pawn, a piece that only furthered their own further interests and success. That being the reason why you were probably oblivious to the games Corio was playing with you. And you didn't know it, but tonight was the night Corio was going to win a game that you didn't know you were playing.

You were getting ready for bed, your light blue light gown skimmed mid-thigh as you sat down at your vanity brushing through your long hair. You examined your features as you did, humming a song that had been stuck in your head all day. You heard a soft knock at your window, turning your head to look for what made the sound, but you found nothing. You quickly brushed it off and went back to the task at hand, your mind getting lost in thought about a certain someone with blonde hair and blue eyes. It was almost like he never really left your mind at all, he was constantly grazing your thoughts. He seemed to appear everywhere that you went, in the color red, in roses, in the fallen snow on the ground. It wasn't till you heard another knock at your window, this one much harder than the last, that you actually went over to check what was making the noise.

When you looked you found your lover waiting for you, his nose and cheeks tinted pink from the cold wind that bite at his face outside. An instant smile flew to your face when you saw him, a white rose clutched in his hand, waiting for you. You quickly opened your window to let him in, he had never done this before. You quickly tried to fight the nervousness in your stomach while you lifted the window as you almost sang his name with excitement. The cold air bit at your nipples, making them hard in an instant as it flew in from the outside. You quickly shut the window after he made it inside, a smile so big on your face that your cheeks hurt from the strain. You were so excited to see him, that you didn't notice the darkness that clouded his eyes, or his gaze that kept falling down to your almost see through dress.

"Corio!" You sang again, your arms hugging around his broad shoulders, you stepped on your tip toes to be able to reach that high. You laughed gleefully, his arms wrapping around your waist. He lifted you up so your legs wrapped around his hips as you giggled in excitement, your night gown riding up to the point it almost exposed your white panties. Corio quickly put you down after the initial excitement, softly kissing your lips after your feet touched the floor.

"My rose!" He laughed purposefully, looking down at you. Your innocence and excitement gleaming up at him through your eyes, and all he could think about was taking it from you. Unbeknownst to you. Corio's height gave him an advantage to look down at your swollen breasts in your night gown. It caused his dick to strain in his pants, he wanted to audibly groan from the pain, but he knew that tonight he was going to get what he wanted.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, your smile radiating through your words. He picked up the rose that had slightly gotten crushed in your big hug.

"I was thinking of you when I saw this, and I just had to come bring it to you," he said as he brought the rose to your hand. It was beautiful, even with some of the petals fallen onto the floor. Your heart melted at the thought of him thinking of you, if only you knew the ways he thought of you.

"Thank you, Corio, it's beautiful!" You gleamed as you took the rose, "I don't have anything to put it in here though," you quickly frowned. You knew that your parents would hear you if you began clattering about through your house looking for a vase. He brought his hand to smooth the lines of your worry, lifting your chin to look up at him.

"It's okay," he soothed. Even while he was comforting you, power radiated off of him, "I can always bring you more." You quickly set the rose on your vanity where you had sat moments before. You were so comfortable with him; it didn't even register in your mind what you were wearing and how inappropriate it might be.

Corio walked over to your bed and sat down, not bothering to ask for permission. He admired you from a distance, your curves prominent in the night gown. Your nipples poking through your dress, begging for his attention, begging for his lips. He would get down on his knees and beg now (something he would never admit to), if it meant that he could suck on them. You turned around fully to face him, looking at him with so much love and admiration.

"Come here, love," He stated, not giving you an option to say no. You did as he demanded, your hips swinging in an unknowingly alluring manner. He grabbed your hands when you were stood in front of him, pulling you onto his lap. You gasped at the action, attempting to pull away from the shock of the sudden closeness but his grip stayed firm. Your legs encased his hips, his hard dick pushing into your folds. You weren't necessarily used to this type of intimacy with Corio, but he had been getting you prepared for what was to come. Heated kisses whenever you two were alone, his fingers would always brush your most sensitive parts without getting too close. He knew how to make you long for things, without you even necessarily realizing what you were longing for. You didn't even really process what was poking into you know, all you knew was that it shot tingles up your spin.

"Corio!" You gasped again when he slightly pushed his hips into yours, an uncontrollable movement on his part, but he longed for a touch that he hadn't felt in so long. His head fell into the nape of your neck, landing soft kisses from your exposed collarbone to your jaw. You giggled at the ticklish feeling of his lips, but it also sent a familiar warmth through you.

"So beautiful," he murmured, still planting kisses on your neck. You brought your hands to his face and made him face you as you planted fast kisses all over his cheeks in face in a girlish manner, giggling softly. Corio smiled at the action, letting it warm his cold heart for only a minute. The guilt of what he was going to do tinged his thoughts for a second before he thought about what he wanted, what he needed. He knew he didn't love you, but you were something he wanted, something he possessed. He liked his possessions.

You both stared at each other for a minute, your hands still cupping his cheeks and his hands held your hips firmly. The light feeling from before replaced itself with something heavier, something you couldn't quite place, and you weren't sure if you wanted to. You saw Corio's eyes fall down to your lips, your hands fell from his face and landed on his chest as the tension weighed down on yours. Corio gripped your hips tighter, squeezing him impossibly closer to you as he leaned in to kiss you. The kiss started off sweet, his lips brushing against yours softly. This you were used to, you quickly fell into the groove of his lips. Finding your home in the way he touched you. There was something different this time though, something new. Corio quickly made the kiss faster, harder, and you tried your hardest to keep up. He licked your bottom lip, asking for permission. You parted your lips, trying your best to match his fast aggressive pace. His tongue edging yours. Your hands now gripped his face out of instinct and his right hand trailed to grab your breast. You gasped into the kiss; he had never done that before. He squeezed as he pushed his hips into yours, eliciting a moan from your lips as his dick pressed into your clit. You had never felt this way before.

Corio pressed himself harder into you, he could feel the wetness from your cotton underwear staining his red pressed trousers, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. All he wanted to find himself was deep into you, pounding into you, he wanted to feel you quiver around him. His lips were still attached to yours, the rhythm long gone, it was all teeth and tongue. He was surprised at your ability to keep up with him, but he noticed your hesitancy. He moved back from you, separating the kiss harshly. You gasped at the lack of contact, subconsciously pushing your hips into his. Longing for that pleasure that he was giving to you.

"Y/N," Corio said sternly, causing you to look at him. He could see the desire in your eyes, and he knew he had you right where he wanted you. "I need you." He said, with as much desperation he could allow himself. Corio wasn't above begging you for what he wanted, although he would never admit it.

"You have me," you said softly, attempting to smile at him. You leaned back into the kiss, attempting to regain the passion, but he stopped you.

"No, I need you," he emphasized the need, pushing his hips into yours. Your face held the confusion that you were thinking. That was another thing he liked about you, if you wouldn't say it, your face would. It made it extremely easy for him to understand you.

"I-I don't get what you mean," you stuttered, your lips making a slight o shape when he pushed into you again. He moved his hands down to your vagina, eliciting another gasp from your lips.

"I need you here," he said as he moved your dress to your hips and pushed your panties to the side. His fingers grazed your soaking folds, both of you looking down to find a dark wet spot on the crotch of his trousers. "It feels like you need me to, my rose," he said softly, as his fingers dived in between your folds. He quickly found your clit, pressing into it as he watched your sweet face change in pleasure.

"I don't understand still," your voice cried out in pleasure and confusion. He could almost hear the tears in your voice, it should have made him stop, should have made him quit, but it only made him want to take it further.

He used his spare hand to grab yours, he slowly pulled it over his hard chest. You felt the bumps and ridges of his ab muscles and then felt the hardness of his dick. He forced you to squeeze him with your hands, still circling your clit in a harsh manner.

"Y/N, I need you," he emphasized by pushing into your clit, causing you to throw your head back, "here." He said using your hand to squeeze his dick. You didn't respond, you couldn't from the shock waves his fingers were sending through your body.

Corio moved his pointer finger from your clit to your entrance, your wetness coating him even more. He didn't know a girl could get so wet, but God was he grateful for that. All he could think about was you encasing him, your heat squeezing him till he forgot all about District 12 and that Lucy Gray. He could imagine a life with you, a real life, one with happiness and love, but that thought quickly disappeared from his mind.

He could see a life with you though, maybe not a real one but a life. One where you were constantly swollen with his babies. The thought of that caused him to groan as he pushed his pointer finger into you. As he felt you squeeze his finger, all he could think about was how good you were going to feel.

"Please, Y/N," Corio begged, you had never heard such a neediness in his voice before, not that you were aware enough to pick up on it. All you could think about was his finger in you and his thumb grazing your clit.

"O-okay," you agreed. Not even exactly sure what you were agreeing to, but you had a feeling it wasn't necessarily good.

Corio let out a sigh of relief at your agreeance, as much as it shamed him to admit, he would've gotten on his knees for that affirmation. He quickly threw his shirt of his head and gripped your waist. He pulled you in for another kiss, pulling you down onto him once more. Your exposed folds felt even more of him. He quickly tossed you around, laying you on your back as he stood in front of you.

He sat you up, lifting you light blue dress over your head. Your swollen breasts now bare for his viewing, but not an ounce of insecurity ran through your head. You trusted him with everything you had in you. You truly believed he would never hurt you.

"God," he groaned as he looked at you. He couldn't waste another second not being inside of you, he quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down his legs. You admired his muscular form, which only sent more waves of warmth down you. You gasped as he pulled his dick out from his pants, it looked terrifyingly huge for a moment. He laughed at your expression but swelled up with pride as you looked at him with amazement. He quickly pulled your white cotton underwear off of your legs, looking down at your glimmering heat. He needed to be inside of you.

He crawled on top of you, kissing his way from your torso to your breast. He licked at your nipple before fully enveloping it with his mouth and sucking on it. This caused you to let out a loud moan, the tingle that you felt from this sent shockwaves everywhere. He released it, but not before biting it harshly.

He then moved up more, bringing your legs around his waist and his dick in between your folds. You let out a sigh of relief from the contact and he kissed your lips. This time, much softer, gentler than before. He began to grind himself into you, properly getting himself coated in your wetness.

He guided the tip of his dick to your entrance, slowly poking himself in. He maintained control of himself in this moment, even when you moaned from the pleasurable contact. He just put the tip in and you already felt so full. Corio had to separate himself from the kiss and his head found its home in the nape of your neck. He was breathing heavily as he maintained control, slowly pushing into you. Even though, all he wanted to do was wreck you.

He pushed in slowly, inch by inch. Stopping every few seconds to make sure you were okay, and not hurting. Before long, you were gasping at the fullness of him bottoming out into you. You two stayed like this for a long time before he lost control and started moving again.

"God damnit Y/N," he groaned, the sweat of losing control falling onto your skin. His words flew past you as the fullness was all that crowded your mind. "So fucking tight," he cursed as he drew himself out and back into you. He pivoted ever so slightly and was now making you see stars.

"Corio, corio, corio," you moaned as he now began to pound into you. Any sense of self control he had, was long gone as he heard you calling out his name with such need.

"So big," you moaned, drool coming out of your mouth as your grasped your breast with your hands. His hips stuttering inside of you as he watched you fondle yourself.

"Fuck, Y/N, fuck," he repeated, slamming into you harder. It should have hurt you, should have made you cry from the pressure, but it didn't. It drove you nearly as mad as he was. His words were lost on you, anything he said was tuned out by the feeling of being so full of him.

Your pussy let out squelching noises from how wet you were and hard he was pounding into you. Corio began to kiss to your ear and let out breathy whispers that you were too out of it to notice.

"Fucking hell, tightest pussy I've ever had," he murmured more to himself. Corio thought in his head he should have taken this from you long ago, you were handling yourself so well. He practically cursed himself out thinking of all the months he missed out on this feeling. You moans were fuel to his fire, your sweet soft voice paired with the debaucherous noises of your body colliding made him impossibly harder than he already was.

"Gonna fill you up," he moaned again, driving himself deeper into you. He was barely leaving you now, all he wanted was to be completely encased in you. "Wanna see you swell with my babies, want everyone to know that Coriolanus Snow was here," he talked in circles. One of his hands moving to press into your clit, this sent you into over drive. Your pussy began to squeeze him impossibly harder and your head was thrown back in the pleasure he was sending through you, you didn't know it but this was your very first orgasm.

Corio was trying his hardest to maintain his composure, to hold onto the feeling of driving himself inside of you like a mad man, but he quickly lost control when hearing your voice. "I love you, I love you, U love you," You repeated, pulling him closer to you with your legs. You squeezed him so tightly, he thought that even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to leave your tight hole.

This only drove him further into you, and this is where he released his cum. His hips stuttered into yours for a solid minute, filling you up with everything he had been saving for you for the last few months. He came so much it began to spill out of you with him still inside of you. He looked down and saw how swollen your vagina was around him, the white semen leaking out around his dick, and for just a moment he wanted to say I love you too.

a/n: shit man. that took me two and a half hours.

[vent-stink]

Y/n at home with Seonghwa and San pairings: owner!Seonghwa x cat hybrid!reader, cat hybrid!San x reader a/n: (The POV is whack, again, I'm so sorry)

Y/n is an indoor cat, through and through. Seonghwa gives her the option to come with him and San when they go out to run errands (San likes going just so he can be helpful), but she always rather stay inside, snoozing the hours away on the rug or the couch.

Despite the first thing Seonghwa heard come out of her mouth being her complaints about the clothes she was wearing, he quickly learned that she didn't like wearing clothes at all. She had to while at the adoption center, and she told him, "If I was going to have to wear clothes, I wanted to at least wear cute ones!" Now, her desires were fulfilled, and she didn't have to wear clothes at home.

Well, she had to wear shorts because the smell of her pussy aroused San, but that was more often than not all she wore. The only exceptions were if company was over, it was winter, or she found a top that she was obsessed with, usually San, Seonghwa, and as of recently Wooyoung's shirts, but it was also occasionally a fluffy sweater that she'd wear until the washing machine ruined the texture.

When Seonghwa wasn't home, Y/n and San were always either innocently loving on each other or not so innocently loving on each other. Seonghwa would find them in one of two actions: them laying with each other on the floor, or San fucking her into the couch. They didn't like to fuck on the rug anymore after the first time because y/n's tail got sore and her hips got bruised after how hard San went at it against the hard floor.

Sometimes when San and Y/n are cuddling, San finds his mouth on one breast and one hand on the other, just suckling. Despite it feeling sensitive, y/n eventually became desensitized to this from how often he does it, though there are still moments when it makes her squirm and turns into more. If not on her breast, San has his mouth on her almost at all times, usually kissing or licking her neck in a comforting way.

Y/n at home with Seonghwa was a shy clingy kitty y/n. While she and San would go at it like nothing else mattered, her relationship with Seonghwa was a lot softer.

When he comes home and for once San isn't all over you as you lay on the white rug in the living room clad in nothing but your tiny shorts, he can't help his cuteness aggression as he pounces on her as if he was a cat himself, nuzzling her tummy and giving her kisses because she's his cute, sweet baby.

Other times, Seonghwa will be sitting on the couch watching TV when he sees his kitten staring from across the room, needy for attention, but too shy in the moment to say anything. He mutes the TV, looking at her, gesturing for her to come closer. "Come give me a kiss," he'd say, and she'd come climb on his lap, having worn his hoodie earlier to feel closer to him, and give him a light peck on his lips. He'd grin at her as they didn't go any farther, just her peppering soft kisses against his lips and eventually moving down, head cuddled into his neck, sucking a mark into the skin without permission.

Seonghwa actually doesn't often have sex with y/n unless it's for her heat, reveling more in the small acts of affection they show each other, but he can't help but oblige her when she's feeling uncharacteristically needy outside of her heat cycle or seeking her help when the person he was secretly crushing on at work was looking particularly delectable that day and he needs to let it out of his system. She's always happy to provide.

[alatusprinz]

cute things they do + how they show their love

featuring : aether , albedo , itto , diluc , gorou , kazuha , kaeya , heizou , tighnari , xiao

Aether unconsciously stares at you with heart in his eyes. He never knows he's staring, and even he did it's not like he can control it. After all, how could he not when you're this... mesmerizing? His gaze would make you feel so loved, treasured and god, he adores you more than anything. He's never felt this way before, not when he experienced the birth and demise of countless stars, not when he first happened to fall upon this curious world full of adventures he never explicitly asked for. But good heavens, was it all damn worth it since amongst all the frenzy, he met you. His honey eyes glistened with a swirling sense of comfort, delight and appreciation every time you graced his sight with your beauty.

Albedo becomes clueless, for once. He's been called genius, brilliant and all that meaningless adjectives before, sure. But Albedo has never felt this clueless about anything until the met you. The oh-so-wise alchemist has no idea what to do when he starts unconsciously searching for your figure every corner he turns, chasing your shadows in the corners of his dreams. Every whim, every thought is suddenly laced with your scent- hypnotizing, pulling him deeper into your sweet allure. He notices small things about you, how you prefer your tea/coffee in the daytime, how you stare up to the ceiling when you're trying to remember something, even have a guess on what mood you're in from how you walk into his alchemy camp, looking even more divine than the last time he saw you. He swears he feels like he's losing control over his composure, yet he didn't know what to do for once. Except falling in love hopelessly with you, of course. Little did he know, you were aware of his feelings. How could you not be when his normally stoic face softens and quite majestically glows with fondness and adore whenever he saw you?

Itto wishes to include you in everything he does. Now, basic things like Onikabuto-picking or Arataki gang "conferences" aside, Itto wants to make you feel welcomed, included, most importantly wanted in everything his life has to offer. Your presence is enough to make this man happy, he would happily agree + confidently declare that bring the moon to you if that's what you desire. Even in mundane things in life like walking with you to your workplace in the morning or helping you pick out what clothes to wear today, Itto wants both himself and you to get used to being in each other's life. After all no matter what anyone says, he'll stay forever with you if you'd like. Forever and even longer, his "buddy, comrade, partner" and ... "only-his-dude"- as he called you.

Diluc's love is... surprisingly cute and respectful. Devotion, loyalty and commitment is to be expected to the highest spectrum and beyond, of course. But you may have underestimated how utterly lovably this man would behave when he's in love. He may struggle with verbal expression in romance, but he made his love crystal clear with how he prepares the tea just like how you like it ( to perfection ) every morning with utmost concentration and effort. His love is evident in the way he never lets go of your hand even when the crowd isn't that large because "you may get separated", thumb tenderly caressing the back of your hand. His love is heartwarming when he listens to everything you have to say and hold you in higher regard against anyone and everything. His uttermost respect, admiration and love directed to you would make you feel on the top of the world.

Gorou may act all tough and mighty around his troops for the sake of his heavy title "general", but when you tickle his heartstrings so playfully and lovingly, he turns into the cutest doggy you may ever see. Not to mention he has absolutely no control over how his ears perk up and tail wagging uncontrollably, and he wants attention so much to the point he's embarrassed about his neediness. His pride is high, but his need for you is much higher and it's evident from the way he can't help but cling onto you from the moment you come home, slightly whining if you don't give him headpats and kisses on his cheek as you always do. He wraps his tail around you protectively, leaning into your neck and tickling you with his fluffy ears. He may not say directly but every time you cuddle, you couldn't help but adore the needy look in his eyes, pushing his tail closer to you to make you cuddle his tail as well.

Kazuha ever the poet, just can't stay for one minute without complimenting or admiring you. For better or for worse you couldn't tell, he meant every single word no matter how exaggerated his compliments were. He meant them to the core. You could simply be enjoying the fragrant aroma of the afternoon tea he brought for you in peaceful silence, until he breaks it with his honey-laced voice full of admiration- "You look more beautiful than any goddess that have walked this world, my dove." It never fails to catch you off guard with his extravagant and frankly a-bit-too-cheesy compliments, and he is unfortunately very-acutely-aware from how his pretty scarlet eyes flash with mischievous satisfaction when he sees the slightest bit embarrassment show on your features no matter how you try to hide it. "I cannot imagine ever being happier than this moment with you, my beloved." "Your beauty puts the sun and stars to shame, love." P.s: If you decide one day to fire back with another equally-cheesy compliment about him, you may discover the wandering samurai a lot quieter, stumbling over his words with a lot-rosier cheeks than you remembered him having.

Kaeya is vulnerable around you. Scratch that, he allows himself to be vulnerable around you. This speaks so much volumes from who he truly is inside in comparison to his oh-so-mighty facade he keeps in his daily life. Kaeya prides himself on his sharp intuition and this fated encounter with you confirmed his accuracy further. You may suspect him for charming you like he always did when he mentioned how he "just knew you were the one immediately when he laid his eyes on your heavenly figure."- his words not yours. But in the end, you knew he was speaking the truth from how his gaze found yours with the mellow look you were familiar with, holding onto your hands with a featherlight grip like the one he held on your heart. He never lied to you, didn't hide his identity nor his purpose to you. He trusted you more than himself or anything else. Kaeya was no fool, he knew the dangers of sharing his truth. But he trusted his intuition and insight on this one- to trust you. Plus, you would stand against the world with him if need be, what more would Kaeya desire? The confident cavalry captain that everyone knows- he melts away in your presence, instead turning into a simple guy hopelessly in love, willing to spend every moment possible with you as long as heavens allow it. Nevermind, as long as you allowed him to. He wouldn't let even the heavens stand between the two of you for as long as you desired him the way he did for you.

Heizou's cheerfulness skyrockets from the moment you accepted his confession, if it was even possible. He was already happy-go-lucky to the point it was problematic to his surroundings- you might feel a bit remorse for others in his presence thanks to you fueling his fire. He sings at the top of his lungs whenever he hears love songs with absolutely no regards to where you two were, he would randomly hug and shower you with kisses on your cheek, forehead and nose even in front of that Tengu general from his workplace. He shows you off to everyone, and on top of that he can't keep his hands to himself even if it would cost him his life. He can't help it, he wants to be close to you! He loves holding you against him, hugging you tightly until both of you are almost out of breath and giggling uncontrollably. He pulls the adorably annoying "password?" when you're in bed cuddling and want to go somewhere, not letting you out of his embrace if you don't magically guess whatever password he's thinking of. On top of that he makes you guess the password by making it to a riddle on spot, so good luck with that. Whenever he happens to pass by a flower market, he'd pick one flower to "represent your beauty" for the day, making you scoff and accept his cute gift with a smile on your face. Despite his aloof behavior, it doesn't take much to notice that he's thinking of you every moment of the day and shows it to you through his various ways including but not exclusive to: physical touch and cute gifts.

Tighnari is well... a fox. That is to say, his sneakiness grows each moment he spends with you. He'd fill your daily life with traces of him so you are reminded of him and as reminder that he missed you dearly when he's away. He giggled to himself in endearment when he imagined you pouting slightly at his absence of presence, then a warm smile blooming on your face when you find that plate of berries he picked for you with a "good morning, dear. have a nice day, love you. -tg." note next to it. He "accidentally" leaves his sweater in your room when he's away for a particularly long time due to forest research so you'd have it to cuddle when you get lonely. You'd hug that sweater when you miss his again the next day, looking at that small pot of flower he brought for you on your birthday. And finally on the day he was to return home, you'd greet him wearing that sweater. It was an "accident", all of it- he told you with a sneaky smirk (even though he imagined you greeting him like this the entire trip but you didn't need to know that.). Alas, both of you knew that it was just one of his sneaky tricks to keep him in your mind as much as possible while soothing your sadness in the too-quiet serene nights he unfortunately made you spend alone. His plan ends by making you forget your lonely nights completely when you finally find home in between his arms. What sneaky tricks would he try tomorrow? I guess you'll find out soon enough.

Xiao makes promises to you. He knew some mortals may break promises but to Alatus, he makes promises he knows he will keep. He lives to honor his oath, whatever he may have vowed to you he will be sure to keep. It brought so much comfort to you when he made his first ever promise to you under the subtle glimmer of the night sky- "I'll stay by your side." Before Xiao has ever said he loved you, he's promised... himself to you, that he'd remain by you. For someone like him who holds the weight of verbal momentous oaths in respect beyond imagination, it was often what you needed when he gazed into your eyes with certainty and provided solace to your state of mind with his words. You laced your fingers with his, slightly tilting your head and smiled at him comfortingly when he seemed like he wanted to say something- your way of showing him that you're listening to whatever he had to say. With your accepting gesture, he relaxed and to your surprise, made another promise. One you'd never forget- "I love you." Your eyes slightly widened at his declaration. He tightened his grip on your hands and pulled you closer to him, faces barely an inch away from one another. Slowly, he placed your one hand on his shoulder and wrapped his free hand around your waist, still embracing your body in his warmth. "...Please stay with me." Xiao's expression was complex, millions of emotions flooding his senses. He'd never been like this before, and he was certain he never would with anyone else. Slight frustration also clouded his mind, he had so, so much more he wanted to say to you but failed to properly convey in words. Fondly beaming at your vigilant yaksha, you glanced into his eyes, glowing with nothing but devotion and faithfulness for you. You weren't sure if he was aware, but his gaze silently promised you one more- eternal love- lovers' oath. You smiled and nodded your head, caressing his neck gently. "You know, after such lovers' oath, us mortals seal the vow with a physical-." Xiao wasted no time and pressed his lips onto yours, making you sigh into the passionate kiss. With how he held your body close, lips moving in perfect sync, you two were reminded once again that your love was written in the stars, simply meant to be.

[ieatcocoa]

Sweeter Than Hunny

Characters: Alastor/Fem!Reader

Reader's POV

Word Count: 1.6k

Important: 18+ minors do not interact. established relationship (?), accidental food play, use of honey, teasing, hickies, kissing, suggestive

In which Alastor indulges in your sweet tooth...

Divider credits to plutism !

The hotel is quiet. There is no sound except for the occasional creak of old flooring, caused by a particular serpent slithering around in the dark. While his hobby may be relatively harmless, it is still unnerving; the sizable goose egg on his forehead is a reminder of what you detest. During your stay, you have developed an interest in zodiac signs. Unfortunately for you, snakes embody stubbornness, and you are far too exhausted to give his knot a twin.

In your hands, the small porcelain cup radiates a comforting warmth that seeps through your fingertips and palms, soothing away the remnants of your tension. You take a moment to savor the aroma of the delicate brew before bringing the drink to your mouth.

The hell?

Immediately, your eyes widen in surprise, a deep grimace forming on your lips as you register the unexpected taste. A sharp bitterness lingers on, contrasting the anticipated sweetness. With a determined resolve to salvage your tea time, you set down the cup and rise from the couch. Making your way to the kitchen, you move around the familiar area effortlessly, and the pitter of your footsteps reverberates softly against the tiled floor. There is only one thing that could salvage a brew that harsh:

Ah ha!

Nestled among the pristine shelves sat your beacon of hope—the honey jar. As you retrieve the sweet treat, you cannot help but notice the signs of wear and tear that mar its once-pristine surface. The edges of the ceramic vessel are chipped and worn from its countless journeys to and from the pantry. Traces of sticky residue cling to the sides of the pot, and the substance adheres to the surface of your hands, creating an uncomfortable sensation. Would it kill folks to wipe it down after use?

Your gaze trails along to the lid; it sits slightly askew, showing signs of repeated twisting and turning, an ode to the desire with which it has been opened and closed numerous times. You shift your grip to the handle and run a finger over the smooth texture. The once-vibrant color faded to a dull patina. And yet, despite its weathered appearance, there's a certain charm to the honey pot—a sense of history and nostalgia that lends it a unique character all its own.

Almost everyone utilizes it, and is probably the only thing you can all agree on. To see it so well-loved and appreciated brings a smile to your face, knowing that the gift aids in adding a little extra sweetness to the lives of those who call the hotel home.

Corny. Maybe Charlie's exercises are starting to rub off on you?

Balancing the pot carefully, you retrace your steps to the living room. As you enter, you are frozen in surprise at the sight before you. There, seated comfortably on the couch, is Alastor, his crimson eyes glinting with delight as he regards you with a ceaseless grin. "Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite resident! I seem to have caught you at an unfortunate time; don't you agree, sticky fingers?"

"Ha. Ha. Ha." You release a sarcastic chuckle before softly placing the container on the end table next to your cup. "Just indulging in a little tea break, nosey. I was in need of something to sweeten up my evening." As you settle onto the couch, a mischievous impulse stirs within...

With a dramatic, drawn-out hum, you casually prop your socked feet up near his thighs. "Ah, of course! I should have just called on you! You're sweeter than Hunny." Alastor, ever the picture of composure, arches an eyebrow at your antics, his expression a mix of amusement and bemusement. With a subtle flick of his wrist, he not-so-gently pushes your feet aside, his movements refined yet firm as he maintains his personal space. Undeterred by his subtle rebuff, you respond with a pout, forming your lips into an expression of dismay. "Nevermind, I lied. You're as bitter as death."

"Oh, you wound me, crude woman! Boo hoo. I'm afraid my legs aren't meant to serve as a footrest." He quips his tone light and teasing. With a roll of the eyes, you relent, withdrawing your feet with a dramatic flourish. "Fine, fine. I'll behave... for now." You concede that your impish demeanor was undimmed by Alastor's gentle reprimand. "What are you doing up so late anyway?" It is a silly question; however, that does not stop you from asking.

His gaze flickers to the poorly paned ceiling above before emitting a deep sigh, the faint rumblings of his static audible to only the most precise listener. "You know me well enough to know that sleep is but a distant acquaintance," he responds. Of course, you did; this isn't the first time you've graced each other in the dead of night, and it certainly won't be the last. Though the longing to know why always leads you to ask such foolish questions, some things are better left unsaid.

You sit up; your attention is now drawn to the end table, where the tea waits. With deliberate movements, you reach for the dipper, plunging it into the golden pool of honey snuggled within the pot. As you drizzle the viscous nectar into the cup, a sweet aroma fills the air, mingling with the soft glow of lamplight that bathes the room in a warm embrace. The gentle clink of wood against the ceramic echoes in the quiet of the night. "If you're up for a chat, I'm all ears." Alastor leans forward slightly; his expression reflects mock seriousness as he addresses your suggestion. "Well, my darling doe," he begins, his voice dripping with lively charm, "I'm afraid the only topic of conversation that truly piques my interest tonight is your rather unhealthy indulgence in sugar."

As you stare him down, a snort escapes your lips. "Really now? Is that what you want to talk about?" Alastor nods solemnly. "Indeed. I'm afraid I simply can't let such an important matter go unaddressed," he replies, his tone dripping with exaggerated concern.

Oh please!

"Don't be such a killjoy," you say while shaking your head in protest. "A little sugar never hurts anyone. Besides, eternity is too long for me not to indulge now and then." He lets out a scoff while waving a hand dismissively through the air. "A little sugar, you say? From what I've witnessed, your intake is hardly what I would call a little. I'm quite surprised your teeth haven't rotted out of your mouth by now.” While he spoke, you took a hearty sip of the tea, hoping that the addition of honey had tempered its bitterness.

However, much to your dismay, the drink remains as bitter as before, causing you to smack your lips. You make a mental note to avoid buying products from this brand in the future.

As Alastor continues his tirade about the perils of sugar, you half listen with a good-natured smile. "Well, I'll be! I didn't realize you had become the new spokesperson for Hell's Dentistry. Should I expect to see your face on toothpaste commercials anytime soon?"

His expression shifts almost imperceptibly as his once-toothy grin tightens into a thin line. The sudden change in his demeanor is comical, almost cartoonish, and you can't help but burst into laughter at the sight. While you laugh uncontrollably, you attempt to add more honey to your drink. The fit of giggles proves to be too much, causing you to fumble clumsily with the pot. With a sudden jolt, a small stream of honey escapes the confines of the container, dribbling down the wooden dipper and onto the carpeted floor. Determined not to waste any more of the precious nectar, you quickly lean down, attempting to suck the excess honey from the dipper. However, your efforts only result in more hilarity, as the honey dribbles messily down the side of your mouth. It beads slowly onto your neck, leaving a sticky trail in its wake.

"Shit." A mumbled curse leaves you while you place your cup down. Resigned to the mess made, your hand attempts to wipe away the sticky residue, only to find it stubbornly clinging to the skin.

Alastor, ever the opportunist, rises from his seat and approaches. Without a word, he leans in close, his tongue darting to lap up the mess that coats your neck. The sudden sensation sends a violent shiver down your spine, and a sigh catches in your throat from the warmth of his tongue. His lips close around the spot where the honey pooled, his mouth sucking at the sticky sweetness with a hunger that nearly has your knees buckling. Oh, how you wish he'd bite down. Your hands reach out to weakly grasp onto his shoulders for support, the material of his coat bunching up under your hold.

He remains an enigma; his actions are always veiled in layers of mystery, and this moment is no exception. Any questions floating around in your head about why are fizzed out. After all, some things truly are better left unsaid. With a soft pop, he releases the patch of skin, and his tongue trails upward to linger at the corner of your mouth. His touch is delicate yet possessive, a silent declaration of his presence and desire to explore.

Weakly attempting to lighten the atmosphere for your sake you manage a joke, your lips curling into a faint smile despite the lingering heat between you.

"What happened to sugar being an unhealthy indulgence?"

Alastor’s response is immediate yet measured; his gaze gleams with a newfound intensity as he finishes lapping. His tongue traces a final path before your lips meet in a sickeningly sweet kiss.

"I suppose I am starting to see the appeal, my dear!"

Thank you so much for reading ! <33 Inspired by hazelfoureyes !

[brewed-pangolin]

Ribbed for Her Pleasure

A/N: I can't recall who I saved this Soap photo from. If anyone knows, please tell me so I can give credit. 💛

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader

18+ MDNI Explicit Smut, P in V, filthy banter, car sex, slight exhibitionism

Thank y'all for being patient. Seems like the writers block has started to lift a bit, and I'm finally back to indulging myself in Soap filth. Enjoy a nice road trip that turns into an exciting sexcapade. @glitterypirateduck I decided to flip the script on this one. I can't say no to Soap being a menacing tease. @waves-against-a-cliff thank you for sending in my first 🛞⭕💢⭕💢🛞, hope you like it.

Love y'all. And happy Super Soap Sunday!

WC ~2k

4Runner Soap loves to tease while driving on extended road trips.

--

It's subtle at first. His warm hand resting on your thigh as you ramble on about nothing and everything under the sun.

He'll steal a few quick glances of your expression to attempt to gauge whether or not he's having the desired effect on you.

If you meet his steely gaze with equal growing intentions, he'll keep his hand resting on your thigh with a loving squeeze as his attention returns to the road ahead.

Yet if you show no reaction to his ministrations, continuing your verbal regurgitation of the weeks events, he'll have no choice but to press onward. His one hand gripped tightly around the steering wheel as the other moved further down ever closer between your thighs.

You feel his hand meandering ever closer to your clothed heat, but pay no mind to him. Only pointing out the next exit as you once more embellish his ears with mindless and unending banter.

Unperturbed by your unwillingness to give in, he sets forth in motion the one move, his last effort against your resolve to force you to finally surrender to him.

You didn't notice the subtle shift in the vehicles trajectory at first. Too focused on your phone and following the tiny icon as it moved along the highlighted route on the GPS.

It was only when you heard the rumbling hum of the tires over the ribbed outer lines of the lanes did you finally pull your eyes and pull your attention to him.

Before you could utter a singular protest, his hand moved the center of your thighs and pressed his index and middle finger into the inner seam of your jeans. Enhancing the continuous feel of the vibrations reverberating under the metal frame as they culminated into the growing throb emanating within your swelling folds.

"Johnny," you whimpered in feigning protest as his fingertips rubbed over the raised center of your trousers.

"What are you doing? Pay attention to the-"

"Shu' it, lass." Soap barked back with a playful bite rolling off his tongue.

"Rest tha' mouth a'yers fer a minute, yeah. Or I'm gonnae 'ave ta put ta better use."

Words failed you as his thick fingers continued to push into the flesh of your clothed cunt. Still riding the jagged lines on the pavement, making you roll your eyes back and bite your lip to quell the muffled moan threatening to escape within the depths of your throat.

"Ya like tha', bonnie? Ribbed fer yer pleasure by th'roadside?" He mocked with a confidence that never failed to make you quiver.

Feeling your arousal pool within in the depths of your soaking heat as his fingers pressed firmly against your swollen folds. Only managing to moan in response, which further fueled his resolve with a guttural growl, pulling his hands away from your growing pleasure and immediately shifting to take the next exit.

"Johnny, this isn't our exit."

"Nah. Emergency stop. Got a full stauner 'ere, and I cannae focus on nothin' else except tha' sweet pussy a'yers."

You turned to face him, eyes glancing down to focus on thr growing tent in his pants. The sounds of 4Runner's engine revving mirroring the sexual tension between the seats as Soap veered the vehicle into traffic, his eyes desperate and focused on finding a secluded passage for some much needed privacy.

-

It took no more than five minutes to find one that met his growing needs. A meandering dirt road that ended against an abandoned fence with a rusted and weather tempered 'No Trespassing' sign.

You barely had a moment to unbuckle your seat belt as he made his way to your side of the SUV. Inhuman speed fed by an unadulterated need to take you, unceremoniously throwing you over his shoulder with a huffing grunt. Only to be reciprocated by a piercing snicker, accepting your fate as he threw you into the flattened back of the cargo space and greedily began tearing your clothes away.

"Aren't you afraid we'll get caught?" Your pathetic attempt to reason with him only seemed to spur him further into a needy and unbridled rage.

"Fuck 'em. My need fer ya outweighs them bloody regulations." Soap spat back through gritted teeth.

Your exposed form laying out for him as he pulled his shirt over his head to reveal the chiseled frame that always seemed to render you speechless and begging for him.

Feeling the warmth of your arousal pool within your folds, spreading your legs to invite him in with a confident stare that mirrored his own hungry gaze.

"Steamin Jesus, look a'tha. Already fuckin soakin fer me, aren't ya, bonnie?"

"Always, Johnny. Nobody makes me wetter than you."

Soap's cerulean eyes swirled with glorious intent, flickering between your desperate expression and the glistening folds of encroaching conquest as he hastily unbuckled the confines of his trousers. Pushing the fabric of his pants and boxers down to release his throbbing length, a subtle whimper escaping his lips to the cool air hitting his hot flesh as a stream of precum ran down the tip of his reddened cock.

"Yer always so fuckin pretty like this, lass. Spread out an' jus' waitin fer me."

His jaw tightened to sight of your cunt clenched around nothingness in reaction to his sultry brogue. Splaying yourself out for him like a sacrificial lamb while the deafening sounds of echoing traffic echoed from deep within the trees and rolled around the walls of your private encampment.

"Gonnae fuck ya good, bonnie," he purred lowly with a rolling timbre. Ever so slowly moving like a predator as he encroached and hovered over your flushed and exposed form.

The maelstrom churning within the depths of his eyes luring you to his turbulent sea of ecstacy, nestling himself within the crevice of your thighs as he aligned his hardened cock to the puckering hole of your swollen cunt.

"Joh-" your muffled attempt to calm his name was silenced as his mouth sealed over your lips. Piercing the fluttering walls of your pussy in one fluid stroke, bottoming out with a resonating growl while his hands found purchase under the soft bend of your knees.

"Put yer knees on me shoulders, bonnie." He coaxed, pulling away from your lips to guide the shaky limbs of your legs over the broad expanse of his shoulders.

The sudden shift in position moving him slightly within your tight walls as the greedy flesh of your cunt clenched around his turgid length. Rolling your eyes back with a hissing breath, hands flying up above your head to find purchase within the haul of the vehicle as he laid his dense and muscular form on top of your folded and contorted frame.

"Tha's it, bonnie. Fuckin' clench around me. Lemme feel how much ya need me."

As the sounds of his rumbling voice reverberated within your ears, he glacially pulled his hips back. Nearly pulling out completely before penetrating once more and filling the silken depths of your heat in one fluid and languid thrust. 

Forcing a gravelly moan from within the cavern of your chest, fingers wrapping around the metal frame protruding from the haul as Soap braced his hands on either side of your head and steadily began to thrust himself deep into your greedy hole.

“Johnny- aren't ya gonna close- the hatch?” you groaned, gritting your teeth while he picked up his pace. Steadily pounding his hips against your ass, his lips curling into a cocky smile while his eyes glinted at his mischievous intent.

“Nah, bonnie. Gonnae give em- a good show-” he crooned in response with a breathy growl. Disregarding your concern for the outside world, continuing to pound his cock into your welcoming heat as the creaking sound of the suspension began to echo across the shell of your ears.

You attempted to lift your head and catch a glimpse of the tree laden environment around you, only to be forced back down as Soap changed trajectory once more. Your mouth falling open with a silently pleasured protest as the thick head of his cock ran over a sensitive bundle of nerves deep within your cunt that only he had managed to find.

“Holy fuck!” Your voice hollered over the sounds of the croaking suspension, finally giving into the unrelenting ecstasy only he could provide. Arching your back against the carpeted floor of the cargo space, desperate to meet his powerful thrusts and aid in his direction while he maintained a steady, vigorous pace.

“Found tha’ spot. Didnae I, bon? Gonnae make a mess on me cock? Scream me name as I fuck ya real good? Clenchin around me like-”

“Goddammit! Shut up!” 

His unending banter had finally pushed your quiet resolve to the wayside. Reaching your hand feverishly towards his neck, wrapping your fingers around the chain of his dangling dog tags to bring his running mouth down to your lips and ultimately rendering him blissfully silent. 

Sinking your teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip as you wrap your free arm around the back of his neck. Keeping his chest flushed against yours, a thin sheen of sweat forming between the sliding flesh and forcing only his hips to move as he pumped himself into the depths of your soaking heat.

The wet sounds of your pussy emanating off the plastic and fabric haul of his 4Runner, accompanied by the combined gasping breaths from your chests that formed into a blissfully erotic symphony. A duet only heightened by the most pornagraphic whimper you had ever heard against your mouth as his hips began to stutter and his eyes pleaded for his upcoming release.

“Steamin Jesus, bonnie. I’m gonnae come. Gonnae fill ya up.” Soap’s muffled words vibrated against the flesh of your mouth as your free hand gripped into the thick locks of his mohawk. 

Pulling his mouth away to bury his face into the crook of your neck. Letting your lips seal over the top of his shoulder and silence the strained bellow from within your chest as your orgasm suddenly erupted and coursed through your veins like a violent blaze.

Soap’s hot breath cascading against your flesh with a guttural growl, his hands gripping to the carpeted fabric as he bottomed out in one final thrust and emptied himself against the spongy walls of your pulsing cervix. Pulling his trembling body up to let your legs fall and extend, the burn of over exertion flowing underneath your skin as an all too familiar ache began to form within the buried tissue around your pelvis.

“Jesus Christ, Soap. Where the fuck did this come from?” Your voice hushed in the grips of blissful afterglow, hands meandering to his temples while his body steadily began to collapse above you.

“Donnae know, lass. Thinkin maybe, it was them bloody reflectors.”

Reluctantly, Soap began to pull himself off your overly exhausted frame, only to be pulled back down by your clawing hands and laid his head against your sweat ladened and heaving bare chest.

“Not yet, babe. Just rest a minute.” Speaking in a hushed tone, you pressed your lips against the drenched crest of his scalp. Tasting the saltiness against your tongue and allowing your hands to gently run down the curve of his spine as you felt him steadily give into body’s exhaustion. 

“If you don’t rest, Johnny, I’m gonna have to drive the rest of the way while you sleep this off.”

“Haud yer weesht, hen.” He retorted, his brogue quiet and muffled against the supple flesh of your breast. Your lips curling into a smooth smile as you reveled in the gentle sounds of nature accompanied by the everpresent hum of distant traffic.

4Runner Wingman Masterlist

@deadbranch @sofasoap @ohgeesoap @d3athtr4psworld @mini-metal @punishmepunisher @homicidal-slvt @glitterypirateduck @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @ghosts-goldendoodle @shotmrmiller @mykneeshurt @astraluminaaa @writeforfandoms @tacticalanxiety @thetrashpossum @queen-ilmaree @sadstone-s @simpingoverquestionablemen @dustycrusty09 @foxface013 @haurasha @havoc973 @kkaaaagt @designateddeadend @luismickydees

[nightmarist]

Some Zevlor Things —

EDIT 12/2/23: Added a few more things

A fellow Tiefling Hellrider, Tilses, is with him in the caves acting as his bodyguard. He sometimes calls her Tilly.

There is one bedroll in the caves shoved off in the far corner with a book titled "The Devil You Know: An Autobiography" - not sure if it's his personal writing or if he's reading it, either way it adds to the flavor of his of his tiefling pride (and/or anguish).

It reads:

Have you ever had a god change your blood? It is a horrifying thing, even for those who may desire it. Yet few tieflings wished for Asmodeus to claim their bodies, only be given no choice in the matter. It is not as if we were well-loved before the archdevil's gambit. Our people have always struggled against the notion of 'devilkin', as if a single drop of infernal ichor inescapably corrupts. How amusing, when so many others willingly sell their souls to fiends, yet their culture as a whole escapes the blame. By what method can we redeem ourselves, when the crime is not ours? I would drive a blade into every warlock that aided Asmodeus' damned ritual, but personal vengeance cannot undo the will of a god, much less one as slippery as the Lord of Lies. When every passerby thinks you a thief and heretic, it is deeply tempting to become one. (cut off) The only thing that has stopped me is knowing Asmodeus wants nothing more than for all of us to fall from grace.

Around the his table are Invasion Plans for Elturgard, Traveler's Guide to Baldur's Gate, Traveler's Guide to the Sword Coast Vol IV: The Risen Road (which aligns when he tells you earlier there are gnolls on the road), and "Front and Center: a Thespian's Memoir" that reads:

"... in fact, the greatest joy of my life hasn't been acting, but becoming. When you choose a character to play, you don't just wear a mask - you take a little bit of their soul for your own. Whoever you are in your heart of hearts, if only by the faintest note."

Zevlor aside I think this is a sweet quote for the player and player character relationship <3

Dialogue in the Caves:

Zevlor: I Hardly need a bodyguard, Tilses. This isn't Avernus. Tilses: No sir. At least the monsters there looked like monsters.

—

Tilses: Commander— Zevlor: Just Zevlor, Tilly. We're civilians now, remember? Tilses: With respect, sir — being a Hellrider is for life. They can't take — Zevlor: They can, and did. Avernus changed things — best we get used to that. Tilses: ... Yes, Zevlor

—

Tilses: The Watch or the Flaming Fist? Zevlor: Pardon? Tilses: When we get to Baldur's Gate. Where are we enlisting? Zevlor: I'm done soldiering, Tilly. I'd like a clean start. But go with the Watch. You're too honest to be a mercenary.

—

Zevlor: No word from the scouts, yet? Tilses: No sir. But if there's a clear path past the goblins, they'll find it. Zevlor: Yes, of course.

ITEMS —

in the Chest there is a bronze goblet, 46 gold, and a battle-worn blade. On his person he has his gloves (Hellrider's Pride), an apple, a camp supply pack, and the key to his chest.

The blade says:

A fine by well-used sword. It seemed to have once belonged to a holy order, but the indication of rank and patron deity at the hilt have recently been filed down.

The gloves' flavor text says:

A waft of sulphur emanates from this proudly-kept piece.

Celebration at the Camp:

"I should be out there, talking with them. In... Just a moment, maybe." "Is this everyone? Our numbers have grown so few..." "No more. I can't afford to lose any more of them." "No. Let them have fun. I'll be ruining it come morning anyway."

Mindfayer Colony:

Things he mumbles in the Pod:

The pod will show you his memories of Elturel:

After saving Zevlor, I forced myself to pick the "mean" options just to see how it goes.

If you tell him its his fault tieflings were imprisoned in moonrise, he says:

If you tell him "Do yo have a right to ask?" when he asks about the tieflings:

He doesn't argue with any of your remarks except one, when he says "For a moment I welcomed it" and you tell him "For a moment until you realized your reward would be a tadpole" he corrects you:

If you tell him if he wanted power he should live up to his own ideal:

If you tell him to get out of your sight:

When you tell him it's not his fault he was enthralled:

If you tell him "Fine. Good luck, Zevlor."

If you say you could use another blade in the fight to come:

At the Netherbrain:

(smiling <3)

"The journey has been brutal, but I stand here a Hellrider once more, and I would die a proud man if I died this day."

I know it's a Soldier thing to be proud to die for a cause but it still makes me worry for him given his background so far <:]

If you click on him, he has two unvoiced lines:

if you pickpocket him at this point, he'll have the same items on him as before (in this save he has a carrot instead of an apple for me).

His stats at this time: (Steeped in Bliss is from one of my items)

Post Game (Patch 5)

I don't know if there are other permutations of this letter, yet, but this is what I received:

I hope my penmanship has improved somewhat in the past months. When I first stumbled into this city, I shook so badly that I could scarcely hold the soup the priests pressed into my hands - let alone write and thank you as you deserve. It is only when the city itself began to shake that I felt my hands grow still. Along with the other veterans sheltering at the temple - discards of Elturel's 'unworthy' legions - I watched that monstrosity rise over the city. We felt no fear. Only anger. Disgust. Purpose - and with it, power. I do not know what oath we cling to now, or how long it will last - but we shall use it to ensure that this city will not suffer as Elturel did. Whether it wants us or not. It is more than thanks alone I owe. No words can make amends for what I did to my people, but that is as it should be. More come to the temple every day to aid in the relief efforts, and if I am permitted to work alongside them, then I am content. Come and see us, when you can. Zevlor

It's interesting — if not bitterswet, tragic, and inspiring — to hear that Zevlor and other Paladins regained their Oaths via pure, stubborn devotion to saving people when it began to look as bad as Elturel.

[cloudzoro]

Painkiller | Roronoa Zoro ♡

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genre: comfort, smut (minors dni)

pairings: roronoa zoro x fem reader

wc: 1.6k (short and sweet)

cw: established relationship, comfort sex, cunnilingus, squirting, spitting, dacryphilia, unpredicted sex, size kink, soft sex, soft!dom zoro, he's slightly ooc in this one :/ but soft comfort sex with zoro :)

♡ masterlist ♡

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You don't mean to hold your emotions back; you know it's terrible for you, but you can't help it. The thought of opening up makes you want to vomit. It frustrates you to no end that you've ended up with the most emotionally intelligent and observant group of friends you could have. Since you woke up in the morning, you've been asked over and over again what's wrong.

The real question is, what isn't wrong

The limits of your stress levels are being tested to the fullest. You've been losing concentration during training and workouts, the plans you make keep going wrong, you mess up during a fight and almost got Zoro killed, and you've had to play referee during an argument between Nami and Usopp. What was once just minor irritation is slowly building up to something much more destructive. It's starting to show both in your face and body language. Despite everyone's insistence that you tell them what's wrong, your boyfriend Zoro understands you better. He knows that you're agitated, but instead of pushing you to open up, he knows how to help you.

Zoro notices the way your hands shake as you pick at the food Sanji has made you. Sanji only takes it slightly personally when you don't finish the meal. He can tell there's something deeper going on. Zoro follows you out of the dining hall and into your room. He doesn't speak, and you don't acknowledge him until you're both sitting on the bed. He pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him. He quietly holds you as you cry into the crook of his neck. His palms apply comforting pressure to your hips and he rubs his thumbs over your skin. He doesn't ask the reason for your tears; he's been around you all week and seen all the problems. You calm yourself down and shift on his lap. Though you've calmed down, thoughts still cloud your head, and there's only one method guaranteed to empty your head.

“Zoro”, you whine, grinding down on his lap. “make me feel good?” you ask, leaning in to kiss him. He kisses back, much softer than usual.

“You sure?” he asks, pulling back to assess you. You nod, slowly dragging your hips over his crotch.

“It's the first step towards feeling better, and I think I could use a distraction. There's no bigger distraction than your cock ” you say, leaning forward to kiss him again. Zoro laughs, glad to see you feeling better, and closes the gap between you. He’d never say no to you. He wraps his arms around you and guides you down to lie on your back.

“Don't you worry, baby, I'll make it all go away” he says, pressing his lips to your forehead. He carefully undresses you, leaving wet kisses on your skin with every article of clothing removed. He's abnormally soft with you, still wary of your heightened emotions. When you're stripped completely naked, Zoro stops to admire you. His hands trace down your body and spread open your legs. The sight of your pussy makes his cock twitch. He shuffles down so he's flat on his stomach and licks at your drooling cunt. He groans at your taste as he buries his face in your pussy and suctions his lips around your clit. You reach down to grab his hair, back arching off the bed at how good his mouth feels. He's aggressive as he eats you out, determined to empty your head of all thoughts except the desire to cum.

It doesn't take you long to cum. You try to clamp your legs shut, but Zoro's strong hands hold your legs apart as he licks you through your high. He gives you a second to breathe as he sucks his fingers into his mouth. Then, within seconds, his mouth is back on you, making you moan out. Usually, knowing the others are on board, you'd keep it down but you just can't find it in you to be quiet. Not when your boyfriend is spitting on you and eating you out like a starved man. He pushes his slicked-up fingers inside of you, curling them to reach the right spot. He knows he's doing it right when you suddenly shout his name, writing in his grasp, and his non-occupied hand holds you in place for him.

“Is that it, baby?” he asks despite already knowing the answer. He waits for your frantic nodding before leaning back in to continue eating you out. He's laser-focused on making you cum. You're too wound up, and you find yourself on the edge of an orgasm quicker than you ever have been before. There's something different in this one; you can feel a tingling in your lower stomach and tears well up in your eyes as the intense feeling begins to take over. You cry out as he works you closer and closer to an orgasm. “You going to cum again? Pretty girl. It's ok. I got you, just let go.”

Hearing I've got you is so different to hearing I love you. Coming from a man like Zoro, it means the world to hear. The tears roll down your cheeks as you cum. Your orgasm completely wrecks you and leaves you shaking and trembling into the sheets as you gush into Zoro's mouth. You don't have time to be embarrassed about the fact you're squirting or about how quickly you came with the way he greedily accepts everything you give to him. He leans back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “That feel good for you, angel?” He likes to call you angel, it's a perfect dichotomy to his own demonic reputation, and you really do look angelic in your blissed-out state. He leans down to kitten lick at your tear tracks.

“I want more”, you whine, pulling at his shirt, which he happily takes off for you. Your nails dig into his skin as you pull him down to kiss you. His tongue presses into your mouth as he reaches down to undo his trousers. He pulls away to take a breath and kicks off the rest of his clothes.

“What'd you want? you gotta use your words. Or have I already fucked you senseless?” His voice has you in a chokehold, and you have no choice but to respond.

“I want your cock Zoro, please” you beg. Though Zoro enjoys all the ridiculous pet names, there's nothing that satisfies him more than hearing his name from your mouth. He gives you a smile worthy of a demon and leans over your body. He lines his cock up with your hole and teases his tip into your hole, making you cry out in frustration. “Zoro, please don't tease me” you whimper.

“Don't you worry, baby, I'll make you all better”, he coos. There's a teasing edge to his words, but there's no maliciousness or condescension. He really does intend to take care of you. He pushes his cock into your hole, and he's so big that you struggle at first. He attempts to soothe you, grunting praises through his clenched teeth and rubbing your skin. The way your cunt stretches to take him makes both of you moan into each other's mouths. His kiss feels natural as his lips move comfortably over yours. You've kissed each other a thousand times, and each time reminds you of why you gave your heart to him in the first place. Your pussy clenches around him, and he pulls back from the kiss to examine your face.

“Please move,” you say, words coming out breathy as you can barely form a coherent sentence. Zoro nods, adjusting himself to lean on his forearms so he can adequately thrust into you. His thrust gets heavier as you moan and babble about how good he feels. “Fuck, feels too good. ‘s too much.” You say, clawing at his back.

“yeah? Am I too big for you, pretty girl?” He's big, he's so fucking big, and it drives you crazy. His body over yours is like a comforting blanket to you as he bullies his cock into you. The dazed look in your eyes,, as tears start to fall lets Zoro know that he's finally achieved his true goal of emptying your pretty head. He knows you feel better now. He adjusts his position slightly, gripping the sheets on either side of your head as he fucks you down into the mattress.

Your whole body shakes as your orgasm crashes over you like a rough sea. Zoro infiltrates all five of your senses, and all you can do is call his name as you writhe in his grasp. You can hear his voice, but you can't focus on what he's saying as your ears are ringing with the intensity of your orgasm. He cums soon after you, and you feel him release inside you. You whimper as he fills you up with his cum. You cling to him as much as you can as exhaustion catches up. When the aftershocks of your orgasm cool down, you gaze up at your boyfriend.

“How're you feeling?” he asks, catching his breath.

“good” is all you can manage as he pulls out of you. Your pussy clenches around nothing as you adjust to the empty feeling. He smiles, a genuine smile, as his head buries itself in your neck. He presses several soft kisses to your skin. He's glad he's helped you, even if your release is temporary. He reaches for the pack of tissues on the bedside table to briefly clean you. He moves to lie down beside you and pulls you down on top of his chest. You fall asleep almost instantly. All the energy has been sucked out of you, and all you need is a refreshing nap.

“Get some rest, baby. I'll be here.”

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thank you for reading!!!

likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated <3

[bamsara]

Howdy! I just want to take a moment (or two…or three..yeah this is longer than I thought it would be) to talk about your characterization of Narinder in your TRoD fanfic, specifically his grievance over what he perceived the lamb to be and betrayel.

I like to think Narinder repeatedly calling Lambert a traitor (I think at least once a chapter actually lmaoo) over and over, is trying not so subtly to avoid thinking about the why behind the betrayel and the pain that comes with it. Especially since he'd already spent an eternity wondering about the previous betrayal of his siblings. How emotionally torturous it must feel to be in this cycle of rejection, from the people he depended on, even now from his own followers who don't recognize him. And then, when he and Lambert finally appear to be on the same page about something, Lambert goes and spares Leshy, reminding Narinder once again that his divine commands hold as much weight on the Lamb as they will decide to hold.

It isn't up to Narinder to decide how the lamb will act, as much as he wants to. It's one thing for Narinder to have people listening to him, but it's another to actually be heard, and after an eternity of silence during his imprisonment he's absolutely desperate for some form of control and impact. For someone to truly hear him. Which is a shame, because Lambert does, but Narinder cannot recognize it since they don't always give Narinder what he wants (since being a God is all about what you want), and instead are more interested in giving him what he needs.

I assume at this point, after being revived into a mortal form, he's actively given up on trying to understand why everyone just keeps "betraying/rejecting him" and would rather use his own inferences of their behavior as explanation, once again, for that feeling of control, since he's utterly mortified of hearing those words come from their mouths instead of his own (doesn't help that he can actually read minds either). He'd rather kill his siblings than hear the why (not saying the siblings were justified ofc, but understanding one's motivations is, y'know, important to effectively communicating with them in a way that's healthy) Despite needing to be heard, he's internalized that many won't bother listening unless he has control over them in some way, like he did before when he was powerful. When he mutilated his siblings, had Lambert create a cult in his name, being heard isn't just an emotional or mental aspect to his wellbeing, but is literally part of his power as well.

He was/is a God, he's used to followers prostrating themselves just to hear the time of day, giving their all to listen, hear, and follow him. It's why he struggles to separate the aspects that are ingrained in a follower, from those who are a friend. Unless they're also God he can't comprehend much of a difference, and expects them to be of the same or similar standing. He was friends with Lambert when he was Godly, yes, but he still saw himself as above Lambert, and expected them to lay down their life to him like a follower would. Yes, Narinder didn't want to cut them out of his own life in their death, but still expected them to just..die for him. He didn't ***just*** see Lambert as a friend, he saw them as a friend that was also his follower. An exceptional follower he loved, but not an exception. There was a power imbalance that Lambert now sees.

It's why Narinder's utterly baffled and offended, fearful even, at Lambert, someone he deemed as "traitorous", investing their time into still trying to talk to him..listen to him.. for virtually no gain…at his lowest point...when he himself is now "lesser".

Narinder tries so hard to not become invested in those he deems as "lesser" or "traitors" but its near fucking impossible, because like it or not, his desires and needs are so inherently mortal and genuine (desire for power, companionship, love, understanding, control, etc) that if he doesn't close himself off, he may have to face falling into the same pit of disappointment and failed expectations he fell in with Lambert/his siblings once again. So he doesn't, and hides away in his shack until Lambert comes knocking.

And now, as the cherry on top of this emotionally constipated bundle of angsty cat woes, he has to live and breathe as the very thing he deemed as "lesser". Being forced to invest in these mortal needs, now that they're a necessary component to his survival. This is also why I believe he goes on these little crusades with Lambert in the first place as well. Not only because they return to him a sense of routine and normalcy (also pining, coughocoughghhrbogh who said that?), but also because it allows Narinder to forget about investing in his own wellbeing for a while.

He was a God, he didn't have to go through the work it took to just do your laundry, eat, brush your teeth, or take care of yourself since he never had to. The thrill of adventure and battle, the adrenaline rush of near-death experiences, can't hold a candle to the mundanity of work. So when he's not crusading, he just..sleeps..wanders around..the fact he's not socially accepted by his own followers doesn't encourage him either. I mean fuck, he such a complete wreck after Lambert spared Leshy, he crusaded and neglected his health for so long he passed out.

His life is all work now, investing in himself, in others, being forced to have his ego get knocked down a few pegs, and care again despite how much it hurts. None of these things are "given", Lambert's love is not just given (as in, blindly follow) and that's what I believe will be an eventual "eureka" moment for him.

Living is work, but it's worth working for

He ain't hot shit anymore, but that's ok.

Anyway, sorry for the long-winded ramble this was all actually just a very roundabout and ineffective ploy for me to talk about how I relate the song "Don't Speak" by No Doubt, to your Narinder's character. Happy belated New Year, hope you're doing well. :]

LKSDHGKLSDHGD HELLO. This is such a well articulated analyzation of Narinder holy moly, I hope you don't mind me answering this with not much to add on because WOW I'm really vibing with your takes on him and I wanted the world to read this too slkdghlksdhgs. I have a lot of my own takes on Narinder and how he'll progress to be as the story comes along, and eventaully some of this will be talked about in TROD either with the lamb and/or with other characters, particularly Ratau, as he comes to an understanding that others are understanding.

I have not had coffee yet this morning but I could go on for a day and a half about Narinder being used to getting what he wants as a god and the entire process of how actaully lonley and isolating it can be to be continously pedastaled and worshipped verses being on equal, human level with other beings and how long it takes for him to realize that.

HAPPY BELATED NEW YEAR

[zepskies]

OMG I KEED A PART 2 TO SAM HAVING A CRUSH ON DEANS GF

Like idk maybe say Sam didn't listen to Dean and tried making a move on reader? Like ofc he wouldn't ever do that *I don't think* but in this hypothetical scenerio it happens

Hey hun!

Oooof, that's hard. You guys really like this angsty love triangle stuff, huh? 😂 I genuinely think Sam would rather saw off his own hand than hurt Dean that way. But this is like, the only thing I could think of on this one. 😅

See this imagine for context: You are Dean's one exception.

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, one-sided Sam W. x Reader Word Count: 1,100

Imagine: Sam crosses the line.

Goddamn witches.

That's the last coherent thought Sam has, before his mind is no longer completely his to control.

Well, it's still his mind. His body. But the careful door in his mind and in his heart, reinforced with steel and chained shut with titanium, combo-coded, locked and loaded, now has broken hinges.

Thoughts he hasn't allowed himself to think for months are pried open, with a sick kind of enjoyment in pain.

You're his brother's girl. Sam can't help but love you. He wants you. And now, he might be able to have you.

The witch is dead, but the spell she just hit Sam with remains. He's not dead, so that's a plus.

"Are you okay?" you ask him, slightly breathless. You're the closest to where he's sprawled on the ground, so you go to him. You touch his arm, and he can't help but clamp down on your hand. He looks at you with the thinly veiled eyes of a hunter as he smiles. Because your concern reaches the deepest parts of him.

"I'm fine," he says.

But Dean reads the hunger in his brother's eyes. He's subtle in the way he grasps your shoulder and Sam's (noticeably tighter).

"But what happened? How do you feel?" you ask, trying to take stock of what you're all dealing with here.

"I uh...feel fine, actually," Sam says. He rolls his shoulders. His gaze focuses on you. Dean holds him back from getting off the ground.

"Get the book. See if there's a way to fix this," Dean tells you without taking his eyes off Sam.

Sam tilts his head at Dean, the beginning of an angry frown on his lip as you rush away to find the witch's spell book.

"What's the matter, Dean?" Sam asks. He doesn't bother to lower his voice. (He literally doesn't have a filter anymore.) "Afraid of what might happen when she actually has the chance to choose?"

Dean's lips purse as his eyes darken. "This isn't you. And when you wake up from this, you're either gonna hate yourself for even thinkin' what you're thinkin', or you're gonna have one hell of a headache."

Sam stares back incredulously. He scoffs. "What're you gonna do, kill me?" They both know that's not happening.

But that's also when Dean knocks him the hell out.

When Sam wakes, it's to you stuffing tissues in his bloody nose. He groans a bit. He looks at you and still wants. But when he looks down at himself, he's in the bunker, handcuffed to the war room table.

You look worried for him as you go back to your side of the table with the book. Dean is oddly nowhere in sight. Sam thought he'd be watching you (and Sam) like a hawk.

"Dean'll be back in a sec. He's trying to get ahold of Rowena," you supply. "But how're you feeling? What's the spell doing to you exactly?"

Sam rolls the kinks out of his neck and removes the tissues, even though his entire face radiates with pain. His brother once promised to break his nose, and he did just that.

"Basically? I think it took away my inhibitions," he replies. More like threw them in a blender and put his deepest, headiest desires into overdrive.

You frown. "Like a really bad bender, or a truth serum kind of thing? But why would he punch you out for that?"

Your gears are turning rapidly, weighing out all the options. You always were smart. Sam leans forward slowly. Noting your thread of wariness, his face softens. He doesn't want to scare you...

He sighs. "Listen...there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now."

He reaches out a hand. You're looking at him in frozen surprise. His curled fingers brush your cheek. He leans in toward your face.

But you flinch and pull away.

"What the hell are you doing?" you ask.

Sam should've known, but it still hurts him. His jaw clenches. The spell takes away his self-preservation, however.

Just as he might've tried with words to finally confess the depths of his heart, the door creaks open.

The sound of Dean's heavy boots approaching makes him flinch. But Sam looks over with an unrepentant stare.

Dean glances at Rowena, nostrils flaring. "Fix him." He gestures at Sam before he joins you on your side of the table, resting a protective hand on your back.

Rowena shoots him a droll look. "Only because you asked so nicely."

"I don't need fixing!" Sam argues, glaring at Dean. His voice echoes on the bunker's walls. "You're just afraid of what happens if she knows the truth!"

Your eyes widen further. You look from Sam, to your boyfriend. Dean's jaw is clenched tight.

"Okay, what the fuck is going on?!" you ask in earnest. Dean meets your gaze for a moment, his face tense. His reluctant eyes communicate to you things you never knew. Things that clog emotion in your throat. Dean turns back to Sam.

"Don't do this, Sammy. It don't end well for you," Dean says.

"Like hell," Sam retorts.

"Okay, sleep now, dear," Rowena says. And with a wave of her hand and a haze of violet, Sam's world once again blackens.

When he next wakes, he's in his own bed. Not restrained. He indeed has a massive headache, and it's hard to breathe through his still broken nose. He groans and turns, and his brother is there.

When the overwhelming guilt sets in, Sam knows he's himself again, with all the careful walls around his heart put back in place. Rowena must've broken the spell when he was unconscious. Dean can see the truth in Sam's eyes.

"There he is," Dean remarks dryly. "Our giant Jekyll and Hyde."

Sam inhales deeply. "Dean..." I'm sorry doesn't quite cut it.

"She knows," Dean says, after a moment. "Obviously."

Sam nods, swallowing past a lump in his throat. He hesitates to ask the next burning question, because part of him knows the answer.

"It doesn't change anything."

Sam's head turns at the sound of your voice. You stand in the doorway, with your arms crossed despite the disheartened look on your face. Your eyes meet his, steady and sad, but firm.

"I know," Sam says, with a small, self-deprecating smile. "I'm sorry...for all this."

"It's not your fault," you reply. Spell or no spell, the way he feels is not his fault.

You step into the bedroom and go to Sam's bedside, laying a hand on Dean's shoulder. That hand smoothes up his neck, and your fingers briefly thread into his hair. Another silent conversation passes between you and Dean, the way only lovers that close can accomplish.

After a beat, Dean nods and gets up out of his chair. He thumbs at your cheek; it's both an answer to your unspoken request and an endearment. Then he pats Sam's shoulder before he leaves you and Sam alone in the room.

Trust. That's what that is. Dean trusts you, and now that the spell has worn off, he trusts Sam again.

Sam meets your gaze. As awful as he feels, he still loves you. He knows you know by the way your gaze meets his.

All he wants to do is touch you.

To apologize, and to touch you.

He hates himself.

You shake your head. "I love you, Sam. As my friend. My brother."

"I know," he nods. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," you reply. "You just have to respect that."

"'Course, I do," Sam nods again. You would've never known, if not for the damn spell.

You surprise him by taking his hand. Yours is soft and warm and kind.

Always kind...

But never truly his to hold.

AN: GAH! The Angst. You could bottle it. 😩

Want to know what that conversation was like between Dean and the reader after she "found out?"

Read It Here: You and Dean talk about Sam's feelings.

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