#I KNOW. IT'S SO TEMPTING. THEY LOOK LIKE THEY SHOULD BE ABLE TO BE TILTED

[orcelito]

after the trials of today, if anything happens to those 8 vats of tea i made, i am going to go full ???%

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

BLOODTHIRSTY

PAIRING: logan howlett x vampire mutant!female reader

RATING: mature | WORD COUNT: 990

SUMMARY

when your next shipment of blood won’t be delivered to the x mansion for another two days, logan offers to help keep you fed.

part two, animal instinct

WARNINGS/TAGS

typical vampire themes (blood, biting), no use of y/n, reader being picked up, grinding, kissing

LINKS

masterlists | support for palestine

You're pacing the length of the kitchen, filled with anxious energy. There's a pit in your stomach, a gnawing pain that's keeping you awake and lying in your bed, staring at the ceiling wasn't helping.

You hear footsteps in the hall and pause, watching as the thick wooden door opens and Logan steps into the kitchen, flicking the light switch and bathing the room in brightness that hurts your eyes. He raises an eyebrow when he sees you.

"Can't sleep either?" he asks, sauntering further into the room. He's fully dressed, a tight white t-shirt stretching across his defined chest and biceps and a pair of jeans hugging his legs, covering boots that click against the tile with each step. Your eyes are immediately drawn to his neck, to the thin skin that covers his fluttering pulse, but you look away quickly in shame.

"Too hungry," you reply. He looks around the room.

"Well, you're in the right place for eating. There's plenty of food."

"Not the kind I need."

He tilts his head, assessing you. "You some kind of vampire or something?"

"Or something," you reply, dancing around the truth. You're not sure what you are, not exactly, but Charles has helped you unlock enough information to get by. "Anyway, Charles said the next shipment should be here in a couple days. I just have to make it until then."

"I could help you out," Logan suggests. You raise your eyebrows at him.

"Absolutely not," you snap. You move to leave, walking past him, but he wraps a hand around your arm to stop you.

"Why not? You can't kill me. You won't even leave a mark."

"You don't know what you're offering, Logan."

"I got a pretty good idea," he says with a huff of laughter. "You're a predator. I know what it's like to suppress that side of yourself."

You don't know much about Logan. He hasn't been at the X Mansion for very long, but he's made quite the impression among the staff. You can see why -- he's charming, handsome, rough around the edges. You know of his abilities but you don't know him, not really, and the fact that he's offering himself for your hunger is planting nasty seeds of suspicion in your brain.

"I can't," you whisper. He steps closer.

"Why not? Afraid you'll get addicted, sweetheart?"

He's goading you, tempting you. Your gums ache with the need to bite, to feed, to fill yourself full and find sweet relief from the pain of hunger. He pulls you closer and your treacherous body obeys, ignoring the warnings from your logical brain.

"Come on," he says. "You'll feel better."

It's been a long time since you've fed from a living person, having grown so used to the donor blood Charles is able to obtain for you through various channels, but the muscle memory is there.

You're chest to chest with Logan now, pressed so tightly to him that you can feel his heart pounding against you, can hear the rush of blood in his veins. He smells like the woods and smoke, an earthy combination that makes you a little lightheaded. He wraps an arm around your waist.

"You want it?" he asks. You nod. "Do it, then. I've got you."

You're helpless to it now, nothing in your mind except survival instinct demanding to be fulfilled. The prick of pain as your mouth grows crowded with longer, sharper teeth meant to tear and ravage and maim. You lean into him, running your lips against warm skin and relishing in the sharp breath he takes at the contact.

Like any predator, you give no warning, sinking your teeth into his flesh. Blood rushes over your tongue, warm and lush, invading your senses. His heavy palm settles on the back of your neck, cradling you to him, and the intimacy of it pulls a moan from deep in your chest.

"Fuck," Logan growls, his other hand tight on your hip. You lift your head to ask if he's okay, but the words are lost when he bends his knees and grabs the back of your thighs with both hands, urging you up. He settles you on the counter, fitting himself between your spread legs.

"Again," he demands, eyes wild and teeth bared in a snarl. You switch to the other side of his neck, biting down hard. He moans, loud and deep, hips flexing into yours. You can feel the hard length of his cock through his jeans and the friction against your core makes you whine and writhe against him.

You drag yourself away from him, licking your lips. His pupils are blown wide, the black of them nearly engulfing the gorgeous hazel of his irises. His gaze drops to your lips and he leans in, kissing you like a hungry animal, trying to devour you in turn.

He pulls away from you, begins to trail kisses down your jaw to your neck. You grow tense, the sudden realization that Logan's favor has devolved into something more hitting you like a ton of bricks.

You push him away by the shoulder and he stares at you with a furrowed brow, confusion coloring his features. His chest heaves with breath and his mouth is stained red, lips kiss bitten and slick. The wounds you would have left behind have already closed, leaving no trace of you on his skin. You swallow around the lump in your throat.

"Thank you, Logan," you whisper. You ease yourself down from the counter, the man stepping back slightly to give you space. "Goodnight."

He clears his throat. "Right. Hope you can sleep now."

"I hope you can, too."

You leave the kitchen, the weight of his stare on your back not lifting until you're in the hall and can take a deep breath. When you return to your room, you still can't sleep.

But it's no longer because of hunger.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting, I’d love to hear from you 💕

Divider by @/saradika-graphics

All masterlists

Logan Howlett masterlist

[oreo-creampie]

“𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧’𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: vampire!leon, light facefucking, some gagging, dacryphilia, praise, gentle (?) choking, overstimulation, cock-drunk, Leon’s venom gets you horny, your blood makes his body warmer for periods of time, Leon is a slight tease, some cock warming, light begging, mating press, some riding, biting, blood sucking, pain kink

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: crumbs of Leon 🙇🏽‍♀️

Oreo: for my Leon fuckers, the silver hair gives me vampire vibes, Imma blame another silver-haired vampire by a different name

Leon holds your head down bucking his hips choking you with his cock. He groans as your throat squeezes his cock. “I wonder what you were dreaming my love.” Tilting his head back against the headboard. Softly groaning loosing his grasp on your hair.

Letting you glide his cock out to catch your breathe. Sloppily kissing underneath his head. “Waking up in such a manner.” He looks down at you with a gentle loving smile.

You kiss his balls, “Darling you’re getting cold bite me.” He let’s your hair go to cup your cheek. Grabbing your hip when you straddle him, grinding his cock against your warm cunt.

You softly shiver, his cold cock pleasure despite the chill. Leaning forward grabbing Leon’s thick pec. Moaning when the ridge of his cock head rubs your soft clit with the perfect pressure.

You beg, “Please bite me, I love feeling your fangs, the venom, knowing I’m keeping you warm while helping you feel good.” Tilting your head to the side showing your bitten neck.

Leon softly squeezes your throat, reminding you, “Tap my wrist if it’s too much.” He tugs you closer lifting you off his cock. Dipping his head down to bite above your nipple. Softly sucking flicking your nipple in between swallowing your blood as it fills his mouth.

Moaning from the sweet pain, slipping your fingers into Leon’s soft hair brushing it back. You reach down to grab his cock holding him up. Pushing your hips back gliding his thick cockhead into your wet cunt.

Leon bites his lip stifling his groans. “I love hearing her squelch, it’s like she’s talking to me.” You moan from the sweet pleasure of how he stretches your soft cunt. Leon pulls away, whining letting your neck go to grab your other hip holding you still.

You croon, “She’s begging for you to fuck her.” Clenching Leon’s hard cock trying to tempt him into moving. He bites your other soft tit, softly playing with your nipple.

A soft tingling warmth spreads through your body. Sparking an intense heat between your legs. He groans as your cunt spams around him pulsing in reaction to his venom.

He swipes your blood off his lips sucking it off his thumb. Loosening his firm grasp on your hips, guiding slowly on his cock. Your slick dripping down his balls.

He groans, “You are so warm, soft, wet and taste so delicious.” Grabbing your ass, fucking his hard cock into you. Rubbing your sweet spot with his cock head, his venom increases your body's sensitivity.

“Fuck!” You can’t think of anything other than how his cock feels stuffing your sloppy wet cunt. Resting on his chest, craving feeling Leon’s perfectly sculpted body on your’s. Biting his thick pec, he groans grabbing your hips, rolling you onto your back.

Wrapping your arms around Leon’s neck, slipping your fingers into his soft white hair. He grabs your soft thighs pinning you into a mating press. He groans, “I love taking care of your soft cunt.” Leaning down to kiss you when you let his pec go.

Leon keeps his pace steady getting you closer to cumming. “I should fuck you back to sleep. It is 3 am, you don't need to be cranky later.” He lifts up to admire your face, slipping his hand between to stroke your clit with his thumb.

“Your face looks so beautiful when you cum.” You can't respond, only able to focus on the soft texture of his skin rubbing the inside of your cunt.

He’s inside you, warm, thick and throbbing inside of you. Each stroke getting him closer to cumming. You plead “Want your cum!” Whining gushing on his hard cock, your cunt squelching louder, your thick slick soaking into the bed.

Smiling when Leon kisses your forehead. “Is my cock and cum all you can think about princess?”

Oreo’s m.list

[a-lexia11]

Twins

Alessia russo x reader

Words count: around 2k

Warning:none

Summary : You and your twin sister Valentina play a prank on your girlfriend, Alessia, by switching places to see if Alessia can tell you apart.

As I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my shirt, I couldn’t help but smile at the reflection of my twin sister, Valentina, lounging on my bed, scrolling through her phone. It was a typical Saturday morning, the kind where everything felt calm, relaxed, and just a little bit mischievous.

Valentina and I had always been close, and our bond as twins often led to playful antics and pranks that kept our lives interesting.

“You know, Y/N,” Valentina suddenly said, her voice laced with amusement, “I’ve been thinking… Do you really think Alessia would be able to tell the difference between us?”

I turned away from the mirror to look at her, raising an eyebrow. “Of course she would. We’ve been dating for two years now. She knows me better than anyone.”

Valentina smirked, clearly not convinced. “Are you sure? I mean, we are identical twins. We’ve fooled plenty of people before.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing. “Maybe other people, but not Alessia. She’d definitely recognize me.”

Valentina sat up, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. “How about we put that to the test? Let’s see if Alessia can really tell us apart.”

I crossed my arms, intrigued. “And how do you propose we do that?”

She grinned, already formulating a plan. “We’ll switch places, just for fun. I’ll pretend to be you, and you can hang back and watch. Let’s see how long it takes for her to figure it out.”

I hesitated for a moment, but the idea of playing a harmless prank on Alessia was too tempting to resist. “Alright, you’re on. But I’m telling you, she’ll know right away.”

Valentina chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”

***

Later that afternoon, Valentina and I put our plan into action. Alessia was due to come over to my apartment around 2 p.m , so we had some time to prepare. We decided to keep things simple, Valentina would dress like me, act like me, and see how Alessia reacted.

Meanwhile, I would hide in my room, listening in on the whole interaction. It was going to be a harmless bit of fun, or so I thought.

By the time 2 p.m. rolled around, Valentina was dressed in one of my favorite hoodies (Alessia’s hoodies) and jeans, her hair styled just like mine. If I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn I was looking at a mirror.

“You ready?” I asked, trying to suppress a grin.

Valentina nodded, confidently striding toward the living room. “Ready as ever. Let’s see if your girlfriend is as perceptive as you think.”

I ducked into my bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar so I could hear everything that happened.

My heart raced with excitement, eager to see how Alessia would react. Surely, she’d figure it out right away—there was no way she wouldn’t recognize her own girlfriend.

A few minutes later, I heard the sound of the front door unlocking, followed by Alessia’s familiar voice calling out, “Y/N? I’m here!”

Valentina, in her best impersonation of me, responded, “Hey, baby! I’m in the living room!”

I held my breath as I listened to Alessia’s footsteps approaching. My mind was already racing, imagining the moment Alessia would stop, tilt her head in confusion, and say, “Wait a minute… you’re not Y/N!”

But that moment never came.

Instead, I heard Alessia greet “me” with a cheerful, “Hey, my love!” followed by the unmistakable sound of a kiss on the cheek.

What?! I nearly gasped out loud but managed to keep quiet. Alessia didn’t notice anything off? How could that be possible?

Maybe she was just being polite, giving Valentina the benefit of the doubt for a few seconds before figuring it out. That had to be it.

But then, to my utter disbelief, I heard Alessia settle onto the couch with Valentina, chatting casually as if nothing was amiss.

They talked about the usual things—how Alessia’s day had been, what movie they should watch tonight, and even made plans for dinner. All the while, Alessia didn’t show a single hint of suspicion.

I paced around my bedroom, growing more anxious with each passing minute. How could Alessia not recognize that it was Valentina sitting beside her and not me? I mean, sure, we looked alike, but Alessia knew me inside and out.

She knew my habits, my quirks, the little details that made me, well, me. Was it possible that Valentina was actually pulling this off?

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to know if Alessia had really been fooled or if she was just playing along.

I quietly stepped out of my bedroom and into the hallway, peeking into the living room where Valentina and Alessia were sitting.

To my shock, they were still chatting and laughing as if nothing was wrong. Alessia seemed completely at ease, her arm casually draped over Valentina’s shoulders. It was surreal watching my girlfriend interact so comfortably with my twin, as if I didn’t even exist.

Then, just as I was about to step back into the bedroom, Alessia did something that made my heart skip a beat.

She gently cupped Valentina’s cheek and leaned in, seemingly aiming for a kiss on the lips. Valentina’s eyes widened in shock, and she swiftly turned her head, causing Alessia’s lips to land unexpectedly on Valentina’s cheek instead.

I froze, stunned. Was Alessia genuinely fooled?

Unable to stay hidden any longer, I stepped into the living room, trying to keep my voice steady. “Hey, what’s going on here?”

Both Alessia and Valentina turned to look at me, and for a split second, Alessia’s eyes widened in surprise. But then, to my utter confusion, she burst out laughing.

“Oh, you should have seen your face!” Alessia exclaimed, her laughter filling the room. “You actually thought I didn’t recognize Valentina?”

Wait. What?

I blinked, completely thrown off by her response. “You… you knew?”

Alessia grinned, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Of course I knew. The moment I walked in, I could tell it wasn’t you. You might look alike, but you don’t feel the same.”

I stared at her, speechless, as Valentina broke into a fit of giggles beside her. “You mean… this was all a joke?”

Alessia nodded, still chuckling. “Yeah, I figured you two were up to something, so I decided to play along. I wanted to see how far you’d take it.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. All this time, I had been the one getting pranked. I stood there for a moment, processing everything before I finally burst into laughter myself.

The whole situation was so absurd, and yet, it was exactly the kind of thing that made me love Alessia even more.

“You got us good,” I admitted, shaking my head in disbelief. “I really thought you couldn’t tell us apart.”

Alessia stood up and crossed the room to pull me into a warm hug. “Are you kidding? I’d know you anywhere, Y/N.”

Her words sent a wave of relief and warmth through me, and I couldn’t help but smile as I wrapped my arms around her. “You really had me going there for a minute.”

She pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, her voice filled with affection. “I’m sorry if I worried you. But come on, did you really think I wouldn’t recognize the love of my life?”

I looked up at her, feeling a mix of love and embarrassment. “I guess I underestimated you.”

Alessia and I both laughed, and I felt the tension from earlier melt away completely.

“Alright, you two troublemakers,” Alessia said, grinning at us. “What do you say we call it even and just enjoy the rest of the day?”

“Deal,” I said with a smile and Alessia leaning down to kiss me gently on the lips. It was a sweet, lingering kiss that made my heart swell with happiness.

Valentina pretended to gag at our display of affection, but I could see the smile tugging at her lips. “Okay, lovebirds, let’s just watch a movie already.”

We all settled onto the couch, this time with me firmly in Alessia’s arms, feeling content and more in love than ever.

The prank may not have gone exactly as planned, but in the end, it had only reminded me of how well Alessia knew me and how lucky I was to have her.

As we watched the movie, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Alessia, my heart full of gratitude for her playful spirit and unwavering love.

As the credits rolled, Alessia looked down at me and smiled. “So, what’s the next prank?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Oh no, I think I’ve had enough, no more twins pranks”

“And just so you know, if you ever try to kiss my twin sister, even as a joke, you'll find yourself single.”

FIN

[hxney-lemcn]

Melting — Connor x gn! reader

summery: Reader and Connor are two lovesick fools who bond over being touch starved.

tw: descriptions of anxiety

a/n: Should I make another part? Or like a series of one shots with these two? I'm tempted if anyone is interested.

wc: 1.8k

Master List

“You comin old man?” I teased Hank as I stood beside his desk, Connor sitting across from him. I was going on break and I thought we’d all head out for lunch together like we normally did. 

“Nah, not today,” Hank waved me off. “Got more work than I know what to do with.” I frowned, glancing at Connor and assuming that meant he wouldn’t be able to join either. 

Having resigned myself to eating alone, I tapped Hank’s desk in acknowledgement, “Alright, I’ll be on my way then.” I smiled at the two and Connor seemed a bit conflicted, eyes darting between Hank and I. Deciding to ignore the odd mannerism, I went to turn away.

“Connor, why don’t you go with them,” Hank offered. “I’ll hold down the fort, but don’t forget to get me something.”

“Are you-” Connor was going to ask, eyebrows furrowed, but was quickly cut off.

“Yes!” Hank exclaimed. “Go before I change my mind.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Connor thanked, a warm smile blessing his face. Whoever made him so handsome needed a raise. Well, Cyberlife is now controlled by androids but y’know what I mean. Connor’s warm gaze fell onto me and I swear my heart skipped a beat. I averted my eyes, his stare too intense for my poor heart. 

“C’mon,” I motioned him to follow me. He was out of his chair in less than a second, walking next to me and matching my pace. 

My nerves felt alight, not normally alone with the android. I tried to calm down my racing mind, scolding myself for not only thinking of my friend, but my coworker as such. I fiddled with the ring I wore, scolding myself for my inappropriate thoughts. But was it really so wrong to want to hold his hand? 

“Are you alright?” Connor asked, and I turned to face him, not realizing that he had just scanned me. “You are showing signs of anxiety.” His furrowed brow and concerned look never failed to make me melt. 

Having a topic to speak on, I felt myself calm slightly and nudged Connor lightly with my elbow, smiling lightly, “You know I’m an anxious person. But I’m good.”

His frown worsened, the hair that always fell out of place falling just a tad bit farther with the tilt of his head, “Is there anything I can do to help prevent it from happening?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m so used to it that I don’t even notice it much. That’s unless it gets really bad, but I’ve been getting better.” Connor pursed his lips, his concerned gaze swirled with frustration. “I mean being with people I know helps comfort me. And when it gets really bad, it helps if I can…kinda cling to them?” I finished in more of a questioning tone, hating the vulnerability it made me feel to admit that. I stared at the concrete as we continued to walk to the nearest fast food restaurant. 

“You can hold my hand if that would make you feel more comfortable,” Connor offered, and when I looked at him in shock, he had his hand extended out to me. My heart pounded faster. Immediately my mind started to romanticize the situation and I couldn’t stop it, even though I knew this had to be strictly platonic. There’s no way it wasn’t…

The kind smile he had turned to a frown, “Your anxiety is increasing…”

“Sorry,” I apologized for no reason really, I suppose for making him think I hate him? I suppose my anxiety really is increasing. “I’m just…I…I don’t mind, I haven’t really held hands with someone in a long time, or hugged, or…I’m rambling, sorry.”

His frown turned into an awkward smile, “You don’t have to apologize. I haven’t held anyone's hand before, so this is a new experience for me as well.” 

Squeezing my hands, I rubbed my right hand on my pants before reaching my hand out. Connor met my hand halfway and I hoped he ignored the sweat gathering on my palms once more. His hand was surprisingly warm, although I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, not to mention soft. Finally reaching the restaurant, Connor opened the door for me and I thanked him. 

He followed me as I went straight to the self-serve kiosk. It was busier than I was used to, and I didn’t even realize that I moved closer to the brown haired man that was also very handsome and very much holding my hand. We both ordered, and waited in line for our numbers to be called. I glanced over to Connor, only to find him already staring at me. 

“Are you scanning me again?” I joked lightly. 

“Even though we are in a crowded place, which seems to usually trigger your anxiety, your stress levels are surprisingly low,” Connor stated, confusion laced in his warm gaze.

“I’ve got you with me,” I replied without even thinking of the implications. Instead I just grinned at him, unaware of how he was becoming increasingly flustered. I glanced at the screen that showed off the order numbers, and noticed ours both were getting closer. 

“Excuse me,” Someone grunted, pushing past me. Which in turn caused me to press closer to Connor. 

Connor ran a diagnostic scan, wondering why he felt like his internal fans were going to explode. It came up all good, which led him to thinking about what Hank brought up earlier. 

“You haven’t noticed them touching you more lately?” Hank asked, raising an eyebrow.

Connor had noticed it, quite a bit actually. The small touches to his arm, the nudges, or even when they tried to rest their arm on his shoulder jokingly. He always looked at that last example fondly, especially when he was 6’ compared to their shorter height. 

“All their affection reads as platonic, does it not?” Connor asked, curious as ever. 

“You don’t see them hiding their laughter into my shoulder, do you?” Hank asked rhetorically. 

“No,” Connor replied anyway, led blinking yellow in thought. “So you’re saying they may have a romantic interest in me?”

Hank shrugged, clearly losing interest in the subject the more questions Connor asked obliviously, “I don’t know kid, why don’t you ask them yourself?”

Connor blinked back into reality as I called his name, his thirium pump seeming to beat faster as his name tumbled from my lips.

“Your number was called,” I said as I finally seemed to grab his attention, pushing him towards the counter. 

“R-right,” Connor stuttered lightly, embarrassed he was caught in such a daze. 

“Let’s get out of here,” I grumbled as we both got the food we ordered. 

“Of course,” Connor nodded, guiding me out of the crowded restaurant. Arm protectively wrapped around my shoulder. I didn’t mind being pressed into his side once more. My hand clung to his jacket as we continued to squeeze past people. Once we finally got outside, I let out a relieved breath, glad to be out of that packed room. 

“Would you like to eat outside?” Connor asked. It was a nice day, the warm sun beating down on the cool spring air. People bustled about, enjoying the nice turn of the weather.

“I don’t want Hank’s food to get cold,” I frowned, drawing away slightly from Connor’s side as his arm dropped to his side once more.

“I’m sure he would understand,” He replied.

I couldn’t help but laugh, “Is this the same Hank we’re talking about?”

Connor joined in on my laughter, “How about we drop it off first, to be safe.” I agreed, the walk back to the precinct much lighter than the earlier tension. Was it tension or just my anxiety? Who knows. 

I took in a deep breath as a small breeze blew past. I ate a fry, watching the flowers dance in the wind to a song only they could hear. The sounds of birds chirping, people talking, and Connor flipping a coin filled the air. 

“Is the food to your liking?” Connor asked, breaking the silence. 

I looked over to him, the coin firmly held between two fingers, and shrugged, “It’s alright. What you’d expect from fast food.” 

I loved watching Connor do his little coin tricks, it became a habit to soothe his nerves. It was interesting watching him gain his own habits, becoming his own person. I remember asking why he knew how to do coin tricks, only for him to explain it was to help him calibrate his software.

As I finished my lunch, I watched as the coin rolled over the back of his fingers. Flicking it to his other hand, only to roll it between his fingers. His movement was so smooth, fluid. I can only imagine the million ways I’d fumble and lose the quarter. 

“Do you want to try?” Connor asked, offering the coin to me. I broke out of my spaced out state and stared at him like an idiot. 

“If I tried I’d find a way to accidentally fling it into the ocean,” I joked with a bright smile. 

“The probability of you…oh, that was a joke,” Connor fumbled, and I noticed that his cheeks turned a light blue. Oh my god I didn’t know androids could blush! That’s actually really cool, and I wonder how that even works. 

I laughed lightly at his fumble, “It’s okay, Connor. Besides, I leave the coin tricks for the professionals.” I winked, and then immediately panicked. Why the hell did I wink? God I must’ve looked so lame, but…why was his blue blush more prominent? And why is it so pretty? 

Blue was a good color on him. I thought that when he wore his old outfit that cyberlife fitted him with, and I still think it now. I glanced at my watch, noticing our break was almost over. I let out a dramatic sigh and flopped onto his side, causing him to hold his arm out in confusion before placing it around me gently.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I don’t mean to  make you uncomfortable.” I was so comfortable with him that I didn’t even realize how this may be uncomfortable for him. It was so weird, because one minute I’d be overthinking our interactions, and then the next I wouldn’t be thinking at all. 

Before I could get up or continue to overthink, Connor spoke hurriedly, “It’s alright, you can lean on me if you’d like.” 

“We should probably get back to work,” I grumbled, leaning my head back on his shoulder. I tried to ignore the warmth that spread through my body at his warm touch. It was such a nice feeling, I was scared to grow used to it because I wasn’t sure if it’d always be available to me. 

“We have a few more minutes,” Connor murmured back, hearing his voice so close to my ear, slightly startling me. 

Calming a bit from the slight scare, I let out a soft hum, closing my eyes. Such a peaceful moment. If only it could last forever.

[imaginesmai]

Feelings I cannot express - Eris Vanserra

Wow, look at that! Me, avoiding responsabilities and writing another Eris fic for which I have no time! What a surprise! Enjoy this LONG LONG PIECE that has consumed my time lately. Shout-out to @glitterypirateduck who is too in her Eris' era.

Plot: Five times Eris didn’t know how to express his feelings, and one time he did

Warnings: descriptions of violence and blood. Mean Eris when he doesn't know how to express his feelings. Troubled, traumatized boi.

1

His steps were wobbly, and he had already stopped three times to catch his breath. Each time, the ground seemed closer, more tempting. Eris always cared about the impression people had of him, and in his court, he polished it like nowhere.

The strong, cruel prince that matched his father’s temper. Someone who they wouldn’t mess with, someone who would reign one day when Beron was gone. Only the silent corridors were the witness of that other part of him, the real one, that was leaving bloodied prints on the walls.

Beron had raised his hand against his mother, like many other times. He had crossed her beautiful and soft face with a hard slap, just because she dared to share her opinion on a political matter. And Eris had unconsciously let his power flare. Just an ember, a spark in his middle finger.

His father had seen, and had deemed right to remind him where was his position in his court. Lashes had ripped his back into shreds, blood trailing down his arms and legs. He had finished two hours before dawn, but Eris hadn’t been able to move until the night was already started. That way, he made sure no one saw his vulnerable form.

Eris closed the doors of his room as soon as he was inside, and stumbled into his bed. Falling face first, he closed his eyes and willed his conscious to leave him. No one heard his prayers, and he was still wide awake when his door opened again.

He would have been startled, alert or even afraid, but your scent sneaked in before you entered. Eris groaned in acknowledgement, and he knew any warnings or threats were useless against you. You already knew the dangers of your actions, the consequences of being involved with him. And yet, you were always there.

“Can you take off your clothes?” you broke the sinister silence of the room with quiet steps. “I’ll run you a bath”

“Where’s my brother?”

“Asleep” you answered, brushing your soft knuckles against his locks. “Don’t worry about it”

Flynn, the younger Vanserra brother, had tight sleep schedules, so part of his worry faded away. It wouldn’t do him any good if someone found his younger brother’s betrothed in a light sleeping gown.

Eris heard you filling the bath with water, and tried not to let the guilt worry. The first time you had helped him, he had threatened to burn you alive, and gone as far as give you a nasty burn scar on your left forearm. You hadn’t left, and he hadn’t thanked you. While you two ignored each other in the court ministrations, it was your secret routine – you, a stranger promised to a monster, helping him among his dearest family and friends.

Not once in his life he had let someone so close to his torment, to his vulnerability – to his body. People assumed he had tons of lovers, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of someone touching him. With you, he had discovered in the last years, it was different.

Your hand on his shoulder startled him back to reality, and he finally looked at you. There were dark bags under your eyes, a determinated look fixed on him.

“It’s ready” you tilted your head slightly. “Can you get up on your own?”

“Of course. Get away” he scoffed, but didn’t argue when you stabilized him by his elbow when he rose. “I don’t need your help. You’re more a liability than a support”

“I know you can do it, Eris” you didn’t even blink at his mean words, nor reacted when he tried to push you away. “Maybe we should take your tunic off before – “

“Get off me!”

Eris didn’t measure his strength when he pushed you off, just desperate to shake the feeling of kind hands that he didn’t deserve. That would never be his.

You stumbled back and got your feet tangled between the carpet, which caused you to fall on your butt. He physically flinched when your hands broke your fall, when he saw you suck a breath in pain. But he wouldn’t apologize, he never did. If being the worst person alive meant you would live, if hurting you meant no one would do it, then he could carry the guilt and self-hate just fine.

From the ground, he felt your eyes on him as he striped his clothes. They fell to the ground, his tunic nothing but ripped shreds of cloth. His vest wasn’t much better, or his shirt. Only his pants had been saved from the bloodbath. Eris made a point by not looking at you while he undressed, leaving his briefs on.

He didn’t need to look into a mirror to know that the way your body tensed from the corner of his eye wasn’t an exaggeration. Every fiber of his body screamed at him when he walked towards the bathroom, when he heard you get up in a rush and follow him.

The fact that you didn’t demand an apology or got angry at him rubbed all the wrong spots.

“Let me warm the water”

“I can do it myself, little fox”

Still, your hand sneaked and you dipped it into the water, and within seconds steam started to fill the bathroom. Eris stared at that particular spot between your shoulder and neck, where he wished he could thank you with a soft kiss. Wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into the bath with him. Be the person you would lay with that night.

“Do you want me to help you in?”

“What I want you to do is to leave” he answered as the temperature of the room rose. “I want you to lay with your future husband and forget about me”

“I can’t do that, Eris” you casted him a glance. “I can help you in though”

His anger rose back up and he didn’t say anything when you straightened back up. Your fire magic was only a spark of his own, only useful for warming water or lighting a chimney. That you had to use yours because he was too spent was a disgrace upon himself.

Eris made a point to leave his back to you inside the tub, letting the warm water wash the blood away. He pushed his head between his arms and ignored your presence. Ignored your warm hands as they brushed the wounds so they wouldn’t get infected. Ignored your quiet movements as you left healing and numbing creams on the counter. Tried to ignore you when you massaged his shoulders and scalp, cleaning his hair like his mother used to do.

Eventually, you decided to leave him alone in his rooms. After helping him get up from the bathtub and into the bed. Tucking him in like a stubborn child, turning off the candles. Only when your hand brushed his hair one last time, he noticed the new addition to your beautiful wrist.

He gripped it before you could hide it, and for the first time in the whole night, you flinched. Not because his touch was rough, since he held it like expensive glass. Not because you were afraid, because with him, you never were.

“This is new” he whispered in the dark room, staring at the bruises along your delicate skin. “What happened?”

“He just got a little handsy. Flynn…” you doubted before you sighed, sitting on his bed. “Your father has been pushing him more and more about the weeding. He left this morning with him to hunt in the forest, so I can only guess they talked about it. So he got drunk. And I was late for dinner, because he hadn’t informed me it would be early tonight”

“Anywhere else?” he asked, and eyed you with enough intensity to warn you against lying.

“I’m fine”

You had been raised for that, Eris guessed, and that was normal for you. Being sold to the best buyer for your hand, endure a shitty betrothed until you were to marry and he could ignore you properly. Eris didn’t dare to think about how things would be if your position allowed him to marry you. If his father saw you worthy of his first-born.

But you were stuck with Flynn Vanserra, a man uncapable of love and caring. A man who did worse things than a bruised wrist.

“Be careful” he allowed himself to say, just because it was dark, and you couldn’t see the real concern and fear of someone finding out about your behavior in his room. “Don’t let anyone see you leave my rooms. And don’t come back. I don’t need you”

“Good night, Eris” you rose from bed, and Eris missed the warmth of your wrist against his fingers. “Don’t forget the creams”

With silent steps, you left his room, and Eris spent the night awake wondering of you could see right past his lies, past his fake cruelty and indifference towards you. If you could see how much he cared about his brother’s betrothed.

2

It wasn’t too often that the palace opened its door for lesser fae. On special occasions, his father allowed them to attend to the main hall and see what they were missing because of their condition. Beron took out the elegant clothes, the expensive wine and bright plates. And then, he didn’t let them use any of that and had them watch from the corner the superiority of his family.

Eris didn’t particularly care about those events, but he had been forced to attend to that one – since it was his own birthday. He didn’t celebrate his birthday, he didn’t get presents. Not when years of monotony rolled by and nothing changed. His mother had been the only one wishing him happy birthday that morning, kissing the side of his head quickly and reminding him to be nice.

To stand by and endure his father’s show of power at his expense. All his brothers were there too, and not too far from Flynn, you too.

You were wearing an orange dress that emulated autumns leaves. Each time you moved, lights reflected yellow and brown sparks that had the lesser fae turning their heads around. Eris too couldn’t keep his eyes away from your form for too long, with the risk of being caught.

Flynn seemed to be least affected by your looks, or your presence. While you were required to stay by his side and be faithful, he dragged you through countless humiliation. Talking and flirting with other women when you were standing a few feet away, ignoring your attempts to start conversations, leaving you while you greeted a friend.

Eri’s nails were imprinted on his palms from how hard he closed his fists each time it happened. He had almost set fire to a curtain when he had been close enough to watch your crestfallen expression.

To avoid anyone noticing him staring at you like a hawk or turning his brother into ashes, he busied himself with pointless talks and stupid politics. He endured it for three long hours, and then he granted himself a rest excusing himself for the bathroom.

He knew you had been following him since he left the ballroom, but didn’t acknowledge you until you were far from the crowd. Eris walked through the hallways and across the backyard, and stopped only when he reached the stables. Then, he turned around and his heart skipped a beat at your sight.

Your beautiful hair had been let down, and you were wearing a crown of golden leaves. Everything in your attire claimed you were their possession, but you weren’t his to look at, to enjoy. So he raised a brow and waited for you to talk.

“You’re hard to catch” you started. “Someone might think you’re running away from me”

“Maybe I’m running away from your annoying presence”

You scoffed and he hated and loved that you didn’t seem affected by his words. There was no truth behind it, just the urge of hearing your voice in your reply.

“I want to wish you happy birthday” you confessed, and even your voice was sweeter that night. “Haven’t seen you in all day”

“I’ve been busy” he lied.

Shamefully, he had waited for your visit for hours. Last year you had been the first one to wish him happy birthday, and he had remembered for the whole year the feeling of your lips against his cheek. It had been a friendly kiss, although it had been the only time he had seen you blush. And during the hard days, he held onto that memory like a lifesaver.

You hummed and tucked your hands in front of you. Eris tried not to notice the silver ring that claimed you as his brother’s possession, the distinction from other women. You never wore it, but you had to in events like that one.

In the silence that followed his lie, Eris’ whole body relaxed. His shoulders dropped, his fist untightened and his jaw unclenched. His nostrils flared slightly as he took in your scent, and finally, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

“Happy birthday, Eris” you finally said, and smiled brightly at him. “Do you want to open your present?”

“Present?” he blinked surprised, the question catching him off guard. “You got me a present?”

“Birthdays are supposed to be filled with presents. Extravagant parties are good too, but I think everyone should get a present” you explained. “I tried to keep yours in an envelope, but someone found it before you. And I couldn’t help it. Do you want to see it?”

Eris nodded dumbly. You could offer him a crumb of your lunch and he would gladly treasure it for the rest of his life. Just like he was doing with all your moments together, before you were cruelly snagged into his brother’s arms eventually.

He followed you through the stables, wondering what you could give him. He didn’t remember the last time someone got him a present, a pleasant one. Anything you could give him would be perfect, so he wasn’t worried about liking it or not. He was worried about cracking down and smudging that beautiful lipstick with his own lips.

Like second nature, you walked him towards the pit where he kept his hounds locked. They slept together and were Eris pride and joy, the first and only gift he got from his father. As you unlocked the door, Eris stuffed his hands in his pocket awkwardly. Then, he looked inside.

And broke into a loud, deep chuckle that rattled his bones.

Eris laughed and laughed until he took his hands out of his pockets and had to press them into his stomach, bending over. When he opened his eyes and tried to regain his posture, he lost it over and over again.

“I take it you like it” you chuckled with him.

He missed the way your eyes shone at his laugh, the way you bounced off your feet at his happiness. It had been the only real smile on your lips that night, and it rivaled any of the elegant lamps in the ballroom.

His hounds, the terrifying big dogs that haunted prisoners when they got out of his dungeons and tracked down traitors, had each one fox knitted hats. Who had ripped fae apart with their sharp teeth and devoured limbs like butter. They all stared at you with oblivious calm and a fox hat.

“They look – they look so ridiculous” Eris managed to say between laughs, and pointed at Maximus, who had its head titled and one of the ears had bent down. “And so happy! How did you put them on? This is the best present I could ask for”

“Oh, they didn’t put much of a fight when I sneaked some treats” you shrugged, and Eris broke into another laugh. “Besides, they like me too much not to let me do it”

“You’re a devious creature, little fox” he scoffed, and finally looked at you. “You are – “

Whatever he was about to say died when he caught the glimpse of the moon light hitting your ring. The ring that reminded him that you may have given him a birthday present, but everything else belonged to Flynn. He caught the words he was about to say and stuffed them down his chest. He forced himself to look away from your expectant expression, and swallow the guilt.

You would never be happy with him, but neither would you be with Flynn. Your fate in that court was sealed, yet you would keep your life with the youngest Vanserra.

“Thank you for the present, Y/N” he managed to say, not daring to look back at his hounds.

“You’re welcome, Eris” you copied his formal, clipped tone in a mocking way, noticing the change of the atmosphere but not caring about it. “Maybe next time I could knit you one for yourself”

“I’m afraid I look nothing like a fox. More like a snake perhaps”

“And I’m afraid you’re too hard on yourself, but we aren’t considering our deliriums”

Eris opened his mouth to argue, but he felt them coming before you did. A couple, probably drunk and lesser fae, had snuck into the gardens. And they probably wouldn’t recognize you, wouldn’t report to his father about your reunion. But Eris couldn’t risk your safety, not when you were the only thing that made him be glad of being alive for another year.

He caught your arm in a tight grip and your eyes widened before listening to their steps. You didn’t have to look to know the couple was staring. In your eyes, Eris could see his own fear of having those short and meaningless meetings cut short because of a snitch. He hated that you weren’t afraid of his tight grip or the fire in his eyes, but because of the retaliations if you were discovered.

One of his hounds poked a lazy head to see what the silence was about, but saw no threat and turned away. And to ensure it wouldn’t turn into a threat, Eris put on his heir-mask, the hatred and cruel prince everyone expected him to be, and snarled with fire under his tongue the venom he knew you didn’t believe.

“And if I ever see you snooping again, I’ll have your head on a pike in your weeding chambers. Tell my dear brother to shorten the leash of his belongings” he pressed on. He caught on the couple’s sniff of fear and respect, but also your own hurt. Hurt at the words he was blading for your protection, he told himself, that were necessary. “Leave before I change my mind”

With a final hard push, he threw you a few feet away from him. You looked down and scrambled away from him, and the couple left too. Eris was left alone with his foxed-hounds, and the horrid realization that hurting you was the only way of keeping you safe.

3

Eris paced the length of your room for what felt like forever. He had already noticed every detail you kept in your room that made it so you, had fought with the inadequate feeling of invading your personal space. He had had time enough to consider if he was going insane and paranoid, but it was late and you weren’t there.

You always retreated to your rooms early in the night. Sometimes, he knew because he accompanied you when his brother was too drunk to remember your presence. Other times, he knew because you sneaked into his dorms right before night set. You were supposed to be there with him, teasing him for not being able to look away from the lingerie that lay forgotten in your armchair.

But you weren’t, and Eris was pacing.

That morning, as you all had lunch as a family, his mother had asked an inadequate but innocent answer. It was only logical that after almost five years of courting you started talking about the actual weeding, but you weren’t. Because his brother was too much of a dick to entertain it until he had enjoyed his youth to the fullest, and because you sneaked glances at him when no one was looking.

You had given her a simple answer – love matters took time, and better be safe than sorry. While everyone agreed quietly, Eris had noticed the way Flynn’s face darkened. As if the idea of you answering a question directed to both of you was inadequate.

Eris had left the dining room with an uneasy feeling, and had kept it in his stomach all day. When you hadn’t appeared during dinner time nor had his brother, he had decided to search for you.

You weren’t in the stables, where you spent most of your time between horses and his hounds. You weren’t in the kitchen, where you snuck off when Flynn got too much to handle. And you weren’t anywhere he looked, so he had decided to let the worry get the best out of him and wait for you in your rooms.

As if the thought of you had summoned you, the doors opened and Eris turned around in a frenzy.

“Thank the cauldron” he scoffed, already replacing the worry with anger. “Where the fuck have you been all day? Do I really have to wait here if I want to…”

“I’m sorry” you apologized, your voice void of any fire or charm.

He tried to make himself argue with you further, to explain his presence in your room with a stupid excuse and not let you know he had been worried. There was no blood or visible wounds on you, not new bruises or burns he can explain his sudden lack of words with.

But he could see something there, that made his blood boil and his heart beat furiously against his chest. You walked past him in silence and removed your heels next to your wardrobe. Without saying anything or acknowledging his presence, you peeled the eiderdown off and climbed inside the bed.

Only then he watched your shoulders tight as you tried to keep the cries to yourself. Eris walked on autopilot to the edge of your bed, and watched in silent horror as tears fell down your face. You were squeezing your eyes shut, probably wanting to be left alone, but he found himself sitting on the edge of the bed. Just like you had done so many times.

It was so different from what he knew, what you did with him, that he didn’t know what to do. Hesitantly, he caressed your shoulder and you whined, your body turning around so you could face him.

“What happened?” he asked, his hand trembling with the effort of staying on your shoulder and not brushing the tears away.

“He locked me in a basement, because he said he was tired of seeing me everywhere and hearing me all the time” you admitted, curling your body around his. “There was no light. And I was fine, but he didn’t come back and I called. And no one answered and – “

Your explanation died with the first sob, and many followed. Eris knew what basement you were talking about. His father had locked him and his brothers many times in the past. Big enough to allow a standing person, but not to let them sit. Tight enough so a part of your body was always touching the wall, and dark enough to rob your breath.

Eris willed the words stuck on his throat to leave him. He wanted to lay down beside you and comfort you like he should. He wanted to break every last of his brother’s bones, and then some more.

“I was so scared” you admitted quietly, finally opening your eyes to look at him. “I thought – I thought I’d been forgotten”

“How did you get out?”

“Beron heard me”

He didn’t need to ask for further details, just tried to keep eye contact as your beautiful eyes were constantly drowning in tears and sorrow. His father was as cruel as Flynn, but until you were officially married, he still had to ensure your safety for your family’s sake.

You cried against his side and eventually your body gravitated to his lap. His free hand carefully brushed yours, and you held it so tight and hard that Eris choked his own cry. How many times he had felt alone in his own home? Forgotten in that same basement while Beron went hunting, or partying?

The thought of you locked in those four walls turned his stomach up. You, with your easy smile and your kind words. Full of kindness and love that no one in that court deserved, certainly not him.

Still, Eris held his ground sitting on your bed. He lighted some candles and sealed the room with a glamour against sound and strangers. The rational part of his brain told him to leave before someone came looking for him, the irrational part to do worse things. But he stayed on your bed, stroking his thumb across the back of your hand and brushing his fingers against the nape of your neck.

As you cried, Eris begged himself to do something with the words that resonated in his heart.

“You’re not forgotten, I could never forget you. I won’t”

“He could try and hide you in the last corner of the universe and I would still crawl my way to you, my little fox”

His mouth was kept shut and his fingers continued his ministration, until your breath slowed and your sobs disappeared. Then, when you were about to fall asleep with his hand in yours, you opened your eyes one last time and gave him a small smile. Maybe he hadn’t said anything, but he was starting to suspect you could read his mind and heart.

“I’m glad you came for me” you confessed quietly. “Thank you”

He should have said that he didn’t accept your gratefulness, that he wasn’t worthy of them. Instead, he smiled back and stared at you while you fell asleep. With his heart roaring just a big wilder.

4

His court was under attack.

Eris had come to that realization a month ago, when a missive from Hybern had reached their borders with a threat of dead and destruction. In that moment, he had thought it had been a minor attack. A political attack, a threat with little importance in a world where everybody hated his court.

But then, his father had dismissed the king demands and patrols started to go missing. Parts of those patrols came back, traumatized soldiers that died in a few days but that had enough time to scream horrors. More soldiers were sent into the forest, and more soldiers died.

For a month, Hybern had debilitated them in their own home until most of the army was unavailable. And now, his home was under attack.

The top part of the palace was on fire, people ran desperately through the corridors and soldiers from both sides fought in the backyard. Eris was sure Beron would be able to win that battle, maybe the war. Yet what worried him was that Beron didn’t particularly care about causalities, and there were many that had Eris’ heart in a knot.

He had managed to take his mother to safety, to a hidden room where women and children waited. He expected to see you there too, but instead, had found a hiding Flynn that didn’t answer his questions.

Eris had left his brother in the middle of a hallway with a shutten eye and two broken legs that wouldn’t let him get away from the soldiers. He hoped he would get killed so Eris wouldn’t be the one to carry the task.

As he ran through the castle against the waves of running people, the fire on his veins roared louder. What would he do, if he came upon the worst scenario? Would he crash his home down? It had been eight months since his birthday, and he had come to the realization he feared the most. That those times he seemed to spot you among a crowd, when his soul sang for you, where for a reason.

He hadn’t found the courage to tell you yet about the golden string he tugged at sometimes, hoping you would turn around and confirm his suspicions.

If he lost his mate today because of his brother’s cowardice, because of a war his father had started out of greed, Eris wasn’t sure the world would be a safe place for anyone anymore.

Asking the running members of his court would be useless, as it would be worrying about them seeing his panic-stricken expression. Eris focused on running and following his instinct, until it led him to the stables. The place where you had shared so many memories that was now a bloodbath.

Soldiers were lying on the ground, dead and unconscious, some of them begging for his help as he stepped over their bodies. The heart of the battle was close enough he could hear and smell death looming, but all of that died down when he finally saw you.

“Eris!” you cried out his name, and what was left of his heart clenched at the broken sound. “Eris I –“

Your cries were muffled by a rough hand over your mouth, of a soldier that hadn’t seen him yet. You were being dragged towards a carriage, your limbs flying around as you tried to get free from the enemies’ grip. Eris would have time to thank fate for allowing him to reach you on time, before you were taken away from him permanently.

Fire licked the carriage’s front, not letting their occupancies leave untouched. It consumed the vehicle in a matter of seconds, burning so powerful and tight that Eris felt light headed for a second. His power felt like a bottomless pit where he could dive without consequences, so he did just that.

Unleashing his short swords, he used both hands to clean his path towards you. The soldiers realized shortly after that their scape root was compromised, but too late that who had compromised it was the crown’s heir.

They didn’t stand a chance against his rage, his power. They fell to the ground like flies while all Eris saw was red. Red seeping through your wounds into the ground, staining your dress. Red pooling the earth beneath his feet as every last soldier fell to their death. Red of his power, that consumed every threat against his mate.

Once he was done, he crashed to his knees in front of you, and the fire died all together when your arms locked around his neck. He didn’t contemplate what it would look like when he pushed you farther into his embrace, listening to your heartbeat like a lullaby.

“You shouldn’t be outside” Eris whispered against your hair, the remains of his anger seeping through them. “If you were smart, you would have stayed inside. Dumb woman. What were you thinking?”

“I wanted to find you”

Your admission didn’t catch him off guard. You sounded so sincere, so relieved, that he only got angrier. Why was fate so cruel to bond him with such a kind soul? Of course, of every reason you could have gone outside, you would have chosen him.

“I didn’t know if you were okay” you continued, lifting your face from his chest to look at him. “What if you had been hurt?”

“And what would you do, hm?” Eris almost cut you off, suddenly repulsed by your touch.

That he had let you get so close to put yourself in danger was a mistake. It had been a mistake the first time he looked at you long enough to discover how bright your smile was. A mistake each time he had allowed you in his room to tend his wounds, every conversation you two had in secret.

There was no answer to his questions, and you knew it. Eris got up and didn’t offer you a hand, instead turning his face away from you. Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to ignore the endless thoughts about what could have happen. The things he should have done better, because none of that mattered now.

Eris tried to ignore you when you finally got up and grabbed his hand. Your hand caressed his fingers, his hands, his arms. You caressed his skin as if he hadn’t just slaughtered ten strong, healthy soldiers with families.

“I somehow do irrational things when it comes to you” you spoke quietly, wrapping your hands around his elbow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get in trouble. But the thought of you being hurt… I’m sorry”

“Let’s get you to safety” he grumbled, not acknowledging your apology.

He imagined what it would feel like to have you hanging from his arm in different circumstances, maybe in another world. Briefly, he indulged himself and slowed his steps so he could soak into it. There were bodies and blood, sounds of battle and death cries, but none of them seemed to matter as you walked down the hallways to the hidden room.

The battle was already dying down, but it wouldn’t be safe until nighttime. Eris would make sure every last enemy was death before letting you set a foot outside the safe room. He vowed himself to distance himself enough to never repeat that moment, and to protect you with whatever it took him. Indifference, cruelty. Whatever put you to safety.

What he couldn’t control was a last moment of vulnerability. He stopped right before the discrete doors where his mother and the rest of women and children waited. Turning to face you, his heart got the best of him and raised his arm without his consent.

“Be safe” you begged him. “Please. I don’t want to lose you”

“I will, little fox”

Eris tucked a strand of your hair, sticky with blood behind your ear. He watched like a hawk the cherry blush that painted your cheeks, the contained smile that you hid horribly. Instead of retreating, he let curious fingers explore the curve of your cheekbone. Your jawline, your chin. The curve of your nose and your lips.

His traitor fingers stopped at your bottom lip, tugging it down. It should have bothered him that those lips were meant for his brother, that they had already tasted him when his brother had gotten too handsy. But it didn’t, because they looked so kissable that he thought he had imagined it when you leaned forward.

When your eyes fluttered closed and his body gravitated too, he thought he imagined. The distance became shorter and everything became white noise. Eris had dreamed so long about it that he thought he was dreaming.

But not even his dreams were so livid, so real. He blinked one last time before crashing into your lips with a straining force. You tasted like blood from your open lip, and like clouds and sky and perfection. There were teeth and tongue and he couldn’t control himself more than the kiss.

Shockingly, he was the one pushed against the opposite door, your much smaller body trapping him as you grabbed him by the shoulders. He stole every breath and whine that left your mouth with kissing. For those few seconds, he let himself explore each inch of your mouth like it was the last minute of his life.

It might had been, if someone saw you with him and told Beron. His father thought had him pushing you away, so hard you stumbled down.

“Get inside” Eris demanded you, gripping your elbow harshly. You blinked with those swollen lips and rosy cheeks, and he clenched his jaw.

“Eris…”

“Don’t come out, not until I come back. Be fucking smart for once in your life” he opened the door and dozens of women stared at you two.

Something in his chest stilled when your eyes widened and that bond became alive. When he was certain that you felt the same tug he had been feeling for a long time, that he had lost sleep over. It dawned to him that nothing would be the same after that day, whether the attack finished or not. Whether his father found out or those women kept silent.

So, for the first time in his life, Eris let himself accept those hidden feelings and kissed you one last time. Slow, deep, in front of his mother who covered her mouth with a surprised gasp. He dragged his lips between yours, only for a second.

When he tore away, Eris was sure he would die happy if that face was the last thing he saw.

“Don’t leave the room until I come back, my little fox. Only me”

Eris didn’t let you answer. He turned around and closed the doors behind him, running down the hallways. Looking for the enemy, for his brother whose betrothed had just kissed, for his father who could kill you both. And away from where his heart was safe with you.

5

Not even a week of mourning was stablished for the deaths at the Hybern attack. Not even a week for the thousands of soldiers who had died defending his home.

Eris had made sure that every family got their loved ones’ bodies back, and that there was enough wood to light up fires for them. He mourned more for them than for his own family, who had suffered an immense hit.

Flynn Vanserra had been found ravished in a forgotten hallway, his body mangled beyond recognition. People whispered that he had found an end according to his life – cruel, mean, without mercy. Eris stared at his brother’s corpse and curled his lip, because before his death, not a scar marked his body. While he had usen yours like a blank canvas.

Beron Vanserra had died too, and that had rattled Eris’ world.

His father had been the main objective, and after he had fallen from the upper tower, the enemy had retreated. Beron was dead before he hit the ground, courtesy of a dozen poisoned arrows on his chest. Eris had watched his body burn in silence contemplation, thinking about how many times his father had raised his fire against him.

Now, it was Eris who light up his father’s tomb fire.

Days brushed quickly but there was one thing that had him grounded – you. Eris Vanserra was officially a High Lord, so no one argued when you appeared by his arm on Beron’s funeral. When you moved your things to the room besides him.

His people whispered about the caring brother who had taken upon the charge of his betrothed so she wouldn’t be discarded. And about the cruel king who had killed his own brother to wed a nameless girl. Eris didn’t acknowledge any of those comments.

He just kept you close as loyalties were stablished, letting everyone know that you were off limits. For touching, for hurting, for insulting. One noble was brave enough to question your place in the palace with Flynn death, and one noble lost his tongue the next morning.

As everything settled down, Eris found himself taking walks with you through the forest, something his brother had never bothered to do. You hung from his arm gracefully, new and expensive dresses on your wardrobe, and a radiant smile on your face.

“Will you teach me how to ride?” you asked him one sunny afternoon. “So I can ride hunting with you”

“I will get you your own horse if that’s what my mate wants” he let the title sweeten his mouth, warm his heart. “I will get you whatever your heart desire, my little fox”

“Maybe I’ll turn into a spoiled princess then. And you will find your ruin at my expensive demands” you chuckled, shifting closer to him.

You could ask him for a court and he would fight to death with anyone to grant you your own court. You could ask him for his court and he would get on his knees and offer it to you without another word. Those words were meaningless, because you rarely asked him for anything. Even when you had changed rooms, you had been happy with just a bed and a blanket.

“I’m happy with being here, close to you. I don’t need anything else”

The more time he spent with you, the more he marveled at your selflessness. You had been helping those with injuries from the fight, talking with the families who were grieving. By nighttime, you returned to your chambers where Eris was waiting for you, having abandoned his own for yours. You two laid in bed looking at each other until you fell asleep.

Then, Eris spent hours staring at you, letting his heart soak into the comfort.

“You are quiet today” you commented, breaking him from his thoughts. “Court problems?”

Eris always had court problems. The change was coming slowly but surely, and his father’s loyal friends weren’t happy with that. But it wasn’t their enmity that had him deep in thought. The last rays of sun warmed your face as he looked at you with a small smile.

Talking about his feelings was his weakness. He had been mean, cruel and downright villainous to you for years because he couldn’t open his heart to you. He couldn’t endure the thought of you hurting because of his stupid feelings.

But he wanted things to change. He wanted you to be happy and safe, and if he had to share his thoughts and swallow his insecurities, he would.

“I was wondering” he admitted eventually, a little unsure. “We are mate. But… do you think, we would have found each other? If we weren’t?”

You looked surprised at his questions. You hadn’t talked about the bond, just accepted it. When Eris had found you after the battle, you had hugged him tight and kissed him once more. You hadn’t talked about it, and yet, you both were comfortable with it.

After the initial surprise, you gifted him a soft smile, and your eyes crinkled against the sun.

“I would have found you either way, Eris. You had me since I set a foot in this court” you answered him. “I used to worry that there was something wrong with me, because I couldn’t feel anything for Flynn. Not love, not hate. Nothing. Whatever he did was fine because it was the price I paid to stay close to you. And it was worthy”

“Don’t say that, Y/N”

“I can’t, that’s what I feel. And I’m not afraid to tell you that I’ve loved you for a long time, my darling. Long before I knew we were mates and through all we’ve been through. I’m sure I would have loved you even if we weren’t mates”

Eris wondered if he would ever be able to speak so freely about his thoughts. He couldn’t still voice out what he felt for you. How he would turn the world around if you asked him to, how your love was enough to keep him alive forever. For now, though, Eris smiled and leaned down to press a sweet kiss against your nose, earning a soft giggle.

He would tell you all of that someday, show you his feelings when his words were stuck. Eris Vanserra owned you that much.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

[simplydozing]

𝐓𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥

Stanford Pines X Reader After your reunion and a few shared drinks atop the Mystery Shack, you show him something about yourself that no one would even think you have. Word Count: 1222 || Ao3, Wattpad

A/N: Sorry For Being Inactive, There Was A Lot Going On These Past Couple Of Months. But I Prevail! (Long Enough To Write A Little Something For You Guys, Granted It's Not Ghost Related. Sorry About That Too, By The Way. Maybe And Hopefully You Guys Will Enjoy Anyway!) Thank You SO Much For Your Patience!

Oh what a time to be alive.

Your dear friend, one who’s been missing for the past few years, came back through an interdimensional portal that your boss made under his gift shop.

Indeed.

That doesn’t matter though, that’s a story for another day. He was back and that’s all you cared about.

Slurred words and laughter filled the warm night air as you both sat on the roof of the Mystery Shack. A few soda cans were strewn around, along with a couple of glasses and a bottle of your finest whiskey. You saved it for a time like this. You both had a couple of drinks already to start the night off so you’d be loose enough to talk. Because let’s be real, 30 years does something to a man. 30 years also made him the silver fox he is today and you needed a little something to distract yourself from that fact.

But enough of that now.

He was telling you about the things that Bill did to him while he was possessed.

“And then I almost got arrested for the third time! I had a real track record going then.”

You both laughed.

“I remember something like that! You went buck ass wild at one point in college,” you took a sip from your soda.

“You did a lot of stuff that I thought you would never do.”

He chuckled and shook his head.

“Yeah, I thought that too,” he rubbed the back of his neck, remembering that you attended the same university he did. You heard a lot from him.

“I also remember something about you waking up with a new tattoo,” you smiled.

Ford chokes on his drink.

You clap a hand over your mouth to try and not let out the laugh you were holding. He’s frantically sputtering and wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. His face goes red and he’s fiddling with his glasses.

“That, I wish you didn’t,” he mutters.

You really didn’t mean to embarrass him, but you both used to pick on each other way back when. He should be used to it, but with the way he deflates, you could tell that it wasn’t his proudest moment. It seemed like you struck a chord.

You playfully roll your eyes and pour yourself another drink, deciding to go ahead and make things even.

“It can’t be as bad as mine though,” you pretend to sigh.

You see your plan go into effect when he perks back up.

He tilts his head with raised brows.

“You-“

“Mhm.” You abruptly answered his almost question.

“I can show you, if you’d like,” you tempt him. It could be the drinks, it could be your newfound confidence, but that twinge of seduction in your voice had him by the-

“Yes!” He blurted.

Bingo.

You down your glass of liquid courage and slide closer to him, however, you lean back and angle your side so that it would be more visible to him.

You wink, and with slow hands, you peel your shirt upwards, stopping right under your chest.

And Ford…

…Is cowering away from your form.

His glasses were off resting beside him and he had one- no, both of his hands covering his face. To add insult to injury, he turned away from you and was hunched over, further avoiding your gaze.

It quite honestly pissed you off.

“Stanford Pines, I asked if you wanted to see it!”

You still had your shirt raised.

“I-I didn’t know it would be in a place s-so…”

He paused, trying to look for the right (respectful) word.

“Revealing.”

Your face untwisted itself from anger and relaxed to a more somber, a more understanding look.

Despite being able to irritate the crap out of you, he was still a proper gentleman. He would never look at anyone’s body without their consent. On purpose, anyway.

He was never as vulgar as his brother, Stanley.

“Stanford,” you breathe.

Seeing how he would rather not “expose you to his wandering eyes” (he has said this before when he accidentally walked in on you changing) and would refuse to look at you instead of asking you to cover up made you realize just how soft and respectable he can be. It made your heart flutter.

He peeked through his fingers, still turned away from you.

“You can look, it’s just on my side.”

He shifts.

“You’re fine with me looking?”

“Yes.”

“…Are you sure?”

“Stanford-“

“Okay! Okay.”

He uncovers his face and reaches behind him for his glasses.

“I’m about to look,” he announces as he places them on his face.

He takes a shuddering breath and calmly turns back to you.

And what he sees makes his face go red.

You have a tattoo of a unicorn bursting through a field of clouds with a rainbow shooting from its horn. It covers your rib cage almost entirely.

His eyes. You never thought they could get that wide.

There’s a second spent in awe before he looks up at you, a hand coming up to touch it before immediately halting.

“May I?”

You simply nod.

Even with you allowing him to feel you, he does so with such hesitation.

His fingers make contact with the slightly faded ink and begin to trace each line.

He feels the same way he did when he found the symbol of the prophecy.

You watch him glide his way over your once drunken mistake.

Until he hits a certain spot that makes you twitch. He stops as soon as he feels you jolt.

“I’m sorry, I-I must have-“

“No, no. It’s okay! I’m just… a little ticklish there is all,” you calm him before he has the chance to freak out.

But you may have given him an idea instead.

“Ticklish, you say?” His fingers wriggle, threatening you.

“Don’t you dare!” You release your shirt and scoot away.

Laughter rang out in the night once again. He refrained from tickling you, being a man of his nature, but he now knows a new way to get under your skin.

“You were right, you know. That was bad,” he playfully nudges your shoulder.

“Hey! Be glad you saw it, Ford!“ You chide.

“No one even suspects I have a tattoo in the first place!”

Admittedly, you never told anyone about it. Not only did no one ask about it, but you were the type to keep to yourself. You don’t reveal too much of yourself unless you get to know someone.

“Really?!”

He almost took you out from how quick his gaze met yours.

You slid back to him, right next to him, and eased your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah…”

He gently rested his head on top of yours and slowly wrapped his arm around you.

When things settled down, you both stared off to the sky. The two of you had to sober up a bit before turning in for the night.

In truth, Ford could spend the rest of his life like this with you. He won’t tell you that, though.

Not yet, anyway.

For now, he was going to take this moment and etch it in his memory for a journal entry later.

“Unicorns don’t actually look like that, by the way.”

“I’m going to shove you off this roof.”

[imaginedanvrs]

can't quit you

dom!power bottom!natasha x sub!service top!reader

warnings: toxic dynamic, degrading, oral (r giving and receiving), fingering (r giving and receiving), mommy kink, strap on (r giving), bondage, wax play, temperature play, praise

word count: 4.2k

“Do you want to stay for a while? I'm making pasta tonight,” you told the redhead as you watched her slip her bra back on.

“I've got plans,” Natasha replied without sparing you a glance. You bit your lip and nodded even though she couldn't see you, feeling the familiar disappointment bring about a pang in your chest. You were used to the spy coming over to hook up and leaving immediately after, but everytime you fooled yourself into believing that maybe she would enjoy your company beyond sex for once. You never said anything to Natasha, knowing that your absence of any persistence was what kept her coming back. She didn't have time for relationships and she certainly didn't have time for anyone needy. But you couldn't say the same for yourself and you couldn't continue to endure the ache that Natasha brought to your life.

“I don't think we should do this anymore,” you declared. Natasha looked at you with a raised brow as she pulled her jeans up, seeming sceptical of your announcement.

“Why?” She asked plainly, certainly not appearing bothered. You wished she was.

“You know why,” you countered. She didn't respond as she stared at you. “I want a relationship. I know I won't get one with you so I want to focus on other people who do,” you told her.

“Like who?” She pushed.

“I don't know yet,” you admitted. Natasha hummed with a small smile, as though she wasn't buying a word of what you said. “I'm serious, Nat” you insisted but it was clear that wasn't going through when the redhead grabbed her phone and keys.

“I'll see you around, detka,” she called over her shoulder as she sauntered across your studio apartment like it was her own home.

“No you won't!” You tried to call back but the heavy slam of the door cut you off. You huffed and lay back in the messy bed, glancing at the space next to you where Natasha had been laying just ten minutes prior.

*

You had blocked and deleted Natasha’s number so that you wouldn't be tempted to contact her again. You meant every word of what you said to her the last time you met but that didn't ensure you had the willpower to follow through. You hadn't met many people in the cold winter months that followed, unable to stop comparing them to a certain redhead. None of their eyes held the same overwhelming intensity as hers. None of their lips promised sinful highs from just one brief touch. None of their hips held that same hypnotising sway when they knew you were watching. It was unfair to place those kinds of comparisons on them,especially as they were all far more genuine and interested as Natasha had ever been. Perhaps that was the problem.

It was late on a Saturday evening when you heard a knock on your door. You had decided to have a night to yourself to finally assemble a lego kit you had bought the week before, but it seemed it would have to wait a little longer.

When you opened your door, you froze at the sight of Natasha in your hallway. She was dressed up in what you could only assume was the attire for Stark’s latest party she must have ditched. It wouldn't be the first time she had done it to come and see you.

“Miss me?” Natasha asked with a knowing smirk when your eyes took in how short the crimson red dress fell. You wanted to deny it, but lying to a spy was futile.

“I missed you,” she told you, voice low in a way you had heard countless times and had never been able to walk away from. She took a step forward and your eyes snapped to hers. You could never fight the spell they cast over you either, not that you wanted to.

“You shouldn't be here,” you reminded yourself more than her. She tilted her head slightly, her smirk unwavering as your resolve crumbled in front of her.

“But we're both glad I am,” she pointed out as you suddenly felt her hand grip your own with an assertive gentleness. Natasha guided it towards her and you let her, enchanted as you watched your own hand disappear under the fabric. The pads of your fingers skimmed across her soft thighs as she led you higher until you were met with damp lace. You exhaled shakily, finally moving your digits by your own will to stroke her covered cunt that clenched at your barricaded touch.

One soft moan from Natasha was all it took for you to pull her in by the waist and slam the door behind her as you pressed the redhead up against the wall and let your lips re-familiarise themselves. She grinned in triumph against you and you happily surrendered the price for a taste of Natasha that you could've sworn was intoxicating.

You pushed your thigh between hers and felt her buck down on it instantly. You grabbed her thighs to encourage her to grind, hoping to see a wet patch on your sweatpants when you were done. Natasha moaned again and you took the opportunity to let your tongue swipe across hers.

To your surprise, she pulled away and forced you straight to your knees. You opened your mouth to object but Natasha grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled your head back to look up at her. “You're not in charge here,” she reminded you. You struggled to nod in her grip.

“I'm sorry,” You whispered, tears brimming from the sting.

“Show me,” she ordered, guiding your head to where she needed you most whilst she pulled down her ruined underwear. You breathed in the redhead’s scent as she did so, squirming where you knelt in desperation to have her in your mouth. You barely had to wait, Natasha’s just rivalling your own.

You moaned in synchronised relief when your tongue was finally flat against Natasha's cunt. Faintly registering the dull thud of the Russian’s head dropping against the wall, you gripped her thighs as a means to anchor yourself to Natasha and ate her out like you starved. Of her, you had.

“Fuck, this is what you're made for, detka, and it's all for me,” she reminded you with a particularly harsh pull on your hair. You mumbled an agreement as you sunk your tongue into her, eager to savour as much of the dangerous woman as you could.

“You can fuck those other sluts all you want, malysh, I know you'll never be this drunk in their pussies.” You groaned, your stomach flipping at Natasha’s well placed arrogance when she told you what you already knew. “Give me your fingers,” she ordered and you complied.

To Natasha’s displeasure, you pulled away as you brought your fingers up to spread her folds, though the redhead held off protesting when she realised you just wanted to watch your fingers sink into her. She watched on with flushed features as you bit your lip and pushed two fingers in with a soft groan. Her warmth wrapped around you in a welcoming embrace, throbbing and twitching as you pushed your digits knuckle deep.

“Good fucking girl,” Natasha sighed. You snapped your gaze to the steady rise and fall of Natasha's chest where one of her hands had slipped under her dress to play with her breasts. You felt yourself ache as your eyes met and Natasha used her free hand to return your mouth to her.

You allowed her to manoeuvre your body as she pleased, finding it all too easy to follow her authority and let her use you for her own pleasure, a dynamic that seemed to serve you both well. You pumped your fingers steadily inside of Natasha as your lips wrapped around her hardened clit that pulsed in your mouth as though it had a heartbeat of its own. The spy bucked her hips into your fave at the action as she swore in Russian You smiled and curled your fingers towards yourself, caressing that sweet spot that made Natasha’s thighs tightened around your head.

“Such an obedient fucktoy,” Natasha seemed to mumble to herself more than you as she watched you fuck her with purpose, as though it was your sole mission. To be fair, that was about right. Natasha had continued to plague your thoughts in her absence. Images of her naked body beneath yours and the heavenly sound of her cumming played constantly through your days as you ached to have another fix of the redhead. And now you were getting it, you weren't about to make it quick. Though you were desperate to feel her cum, you took your time with the spy, wanting to make her orgasm all the better until she finally snapped and demanded it. You would never deny her.

You curled and pumped your fingers at a steady pace, slowing down everytime the redhead’s breathing became too erratic. You'd sooth her frustrations by flattening your tongue on her clit or sucking the throbbing bud gently. But Natasha wouldn't let you withhold from her for much longer.

“Come on, detka, show me how much you've missed me and make me cum. Mommy wants to soak your pretty face,” she told you with a short breath.

You took her in your mouth and pushed a third finger in with little resistance. The spy was wet enough to allow you to surpass her tightness and stretch her soft walls that clung to you. You thrust them fast, deep and with a perfect rhythm that had Natasha’s head spinning wildly.

“That's it…yes! Fuck,” Natasha moaned came, your name spilling over her lips as she gripped the back of your head and grinded herself on your mouth and fingers to ease herself down from her blinding high. Her grip remained tight when she steadied herself against the wall and gazed down at you with such a blissed expression that you couldn't help but flex your fingers inside her once more.

“Greedy thing,” Natasha tutted as she pushed you away. A whine escaped your lips before you could stop it and the redhead gave you a fake pout. She swiped at the wetness on your chin with her thumb and pushed it past your lips, watching with bemusement as you hummed.

“Go put on the harness and lay on the bed,” She told you as she took her thumb away. You scrambled to your feet at the idea and made a b-line for your chest of drawers. “And strip,” she added. You did as she said as quickly as you could, only turning around when you heard Natasha searching through your bedside drawer.

You lay down just as the spy retrieved her favourite dildo you owned, the maroon one that was on the larger size. You throbbed at the thought of getting to see her take it again and attached it swiftly as Natasha let her dress pool on the floor and climbed on top of you, a small smirk playing on her lip as she took in your form.

Her soft hands wandered down your exposed stomach several times, enjoying you shuddering under her touch. In moments like that, when everything she did felt so precise and controlled, you were reminded that you were in bed with a former assassin. She was ruthless and unimaginably deadly, and yet you wanted nothing more than to see her take your strap.

Natasha spat in her hand as she sat on your knee, letting you feel how wet she still was, and brought it down to the dildo to slowly spread it. Your breathing became shaky as you wanted on, feeling the base of the toy rub painfully against your clit.

“Fuck, mommy, let me fuck you. Please,” you begged as the friction built, though not being able to fuck the woman above you was what caused you the most distress.

“Soon, dove,” Natasha chuckled, getting onto her knees to hover over the toy. Your hands immediately fell to her hips but the redhead smacked them away. “Look, don't touch,” she chided.

“But-”

“Be good,” she warned and you fell silent, bunching up the duvet next to you instead.

You were caught in a trance the moment your cock grazed Natasha’s cunt, spreading her lips apart as she gripped the base and eventually sunk down on the head. You so badly wanted to help her take you, but you couldn't risk loosing what was to come.

“Making mommy feel so good,” Natasha mumbled as she lowered herself further on the toy, enthralled by the stretch to her soft walls that gripped you with might.

The redhead placed her hands behind her on your knees and in doing so greatly improved your view of her cunt swallowing your cock. You groaned at the mesmerising sight and could've sworn you could feel how she clenched around you with every inch she took until Natasha was fully seated on the toy you refused to use with anyone else.

The spy lifted herself halfway off of the toy before she was slamming herself down on it again. The motion shook you both and in an attempt to aid her pleasure, you brought your hands up to Natasha's chest and cupped her tits. The redhead managed to chuckles admist her breathy moans. “You just can't keep your hands to yourself,” she mused but made no effort to stop you, too engrossed in the feeling of the dildo working inside you.

“No, mommy,” you agreed blindly as you felt her nipples harden under your touch. Your thumbs drifted over them while Natasha steadily bounced herself above you, the occasional curse and gasped “yes” being uttered. She was a vision like that, using you for her own pleasure all while you laid back and watched her angelic features communicate the parade of sensations ablaze in her.

Once she was accustomed to the size and stretch had subsided, your cock reached Natasha’s depths with ease, seemingly stroking every minute nerve as it did and threatened to make the redhead buck under the pleasure. “Fuck me,” she hissed when her legs started to become numb.

You didn't need telling twice. You gripped Natasha’s hips with bruising relief and began thrusting your hips up to meet the pace the spy needed. “Oh god, that's it,” she confirmed, slouching forwards to rest her hands on your stomach to better support the sudden shift.

“Don't stop,” Natasha ordered with underlying desperation.

“Never,” you whined when her nails dug into your skin, imprinting half moons that would linger for several days. It only spurred you on as you guided Natasha’s frame into your own in a heated collision, one that you could never be allowed to control.

In a blur, Natasha’s trained hand wrapped itself around your throat and squeezed at the sides. You immediately felt the blood rush but it didn't defer your movements. Natasha beamed down at you as she watched your fight off your internal conflict ignited by your light-headedness.

“Don't stop,” she said, this time with a challenging tint. You accepted with a rushed nod and continued to pound the toy into the redhead. The moan it brought from her was nothing short of profane and made your entire body buss as though in a state of call and response.

“You're gonna make me cum like this,” she told you. “Gonna make mommy cum on your cock,” she said as she toppled forwards almost entirely flat against your front and moved her hips in a frantic grind.

“Please,” you begged as one hand grabbed her ass to push her deeper in.

“Fuck, y/n,” she groaned with a sharp cry, her grip around your throat tightening momentarily as she came. You saw white just as Natasha did and bathed in the euphoria that crashed over the older woman as she panted and moaned in your ear. Her muscles twitched as she came down from her orgasm and slowly rode your cock through it to sooth her pulsing cunt until she finally collapsed on top of you.

Barely a moment passed before Natasha peered over at you with dark eyes and a promising smirk. “You're gonna be the death of me,” you told her as you flipped your bodies over and grabbed your still attached hips together.

“I'm worth dying for,” she replied with a pleased smile.

*

Nat: I'll be over in 10. You glanced at the message on your phone and huffed to yourself. Natasha had added her number back to your phone when you had gone to get some water the last time she was over and you hadn't bothered to delete it again. You still had every intention of moving on from the spy, you just needed to figure out how.

Me: maybe I'm out rn. You replied.

Nat: funny. You huffed again and tossed your phone to the side, knowing your ittitance with the redhead wouldn't last once she had her hands on you.

You were right. The moment you were pushed back on the bed with the torturous spy following after you, being mad at her was the last thing on your mind. In fact, you were so enthralled by the feeling of her lips on yours that you didn't notice what her wandering hands held until the S.H.I.E.L.D issued handcuffs were secured around your wrists above your head. That was new.

Natasha looked down at you with a devilish grin and you knew that wasn't all she had planned. “You trust me, don't you?” She asked in a sickly sweet voice as she produced a blindfold. You stared at the black material as you nodded your head but Natasha tutted.

“Use your words, malysh,” she chided.

“Yes,” you breathed out. Natasha gave a low hum of approval and placed the soft fabric over your eyes and tied it at the back of your head. With your senses heightened, you almost jumped at the light kiss pressed to your cheek.

“I'll be right back,” she whispered against your ear. You shuddered and the bed creaked quietly as she got off but you didn't hear her leave and for a moment you wondered if she was still there, admiring your bare form as you listened out for her. There wasn't much point, of course. If the black widow didn't want to be heard, she wouldn't be.

It felt as though aeons passed before you felt the bed dip again. You turned your head in that direction on instinct, waiting for any indicator as to what the other woman was doing. She didn't say a word, giving you no warning when a sudden bitterly cold object was placed on your torso. You inhaled sharply and heard Natasha chuckled as she slid the object across you and left a wet trail. An ice cube. You would have laughed if you weren't so shocked, not taking her seriously when Natasha had mentioned it months ago.

“You're cute when you squirm,” Natasha commented. “Is it too cold for you, detka? You need something to warm you up?” She asked. You searched your brain for what she could possibly mean, clocking it just as you heard a lighter being flicked on for several seconds.

“I didn't think you were serious,” you admitted with an anxious laugh as you rightfully pictured the candle Natasha held above your naked body.

“Are you changing your mind?” She asked as she removed the ice cube and replaced it with her warm mouth. You gasped at the pleasantly wet feeling of Natasha’s tongue picking the water off of your torso. Fuck, you whised you could see her.

“No,” you managed to say.

“That's my good girl,” She smiled against your skin as she allowed the candle to burn and brought another ice cube to your stomach - lower this time. You jumped at the expected cold but didn't get a chance to shiver because Natasha was quick to leave open mouthed kisses across the chilled area.

Natasha revelled in your conflicted responses to her touches, admiring the way your body was entirely at her mercy to torment as she saw fit. After such a shit mission, she relished in that control.

Pulling the ice cube away from your sensitive skin, Natasha watched how your muscles tensed in expectation, but Natasha was anything but predictable and instead allowed a small bead of hot wax to dribble over you. You hissed once more though this time you pulled on the restraints around your wrists, only relaxing when the redhead locked a long strip of the wax off of your body.

“Mommy,” you whined, unable to tell if the heat from her mouth made it better or worse, all you knew was that it was exquisitely intense and unlike anything you had ever felt.

“You're taking it so well,” Natasha cooed as she kissed the valley between your breasts. At her words, you felt your already wet cunt clench. You tried to steady your breathing and focus on the striking heats but it was impossible to ignore the pulsing.

You had never let Natasha touch you before, the one trait she shared with everyone else you had been with. It wasn't like they never offered, you had just never been comfortable enough to let them. Natasha herself had asked countless times but you always shrugged her off. It didn't matter, you were a giver anyway. But with every round of alternating temperature patterns, it became harder to disregard your need.

“You're so wet,” Natasha noted as she pushed your thighs apart and kept you open, intending to focus on your thighs before she took in the sight of your soaked pussy. Her mouth watered as she watched you clench around nothing and she couldn't help but wonder how tight you were.

Just to add to your aching frustrations, Natasha spilled more wax across you, this time dripping down the inside of your thighs. Your moans were needier than Natasha had ever heard and it only spurred her on as she licked the wax off your skin and hummed at the scents of vanilla.

“Such a messy thing,” she chuckled. “Oh, detka, that looks painful,” she pouted as she saw your arousal had smeared to your thighs. “You need mommy to take care of that?” She asked, not expecting your response to be any different than usual.

“Yeah,” you whined. Natasha’s eyes widened.

“Yeah? Want me to take care of this pretty pussy?” She continued as her excitement grew.

“Please,” you whispered, your walls finally crumbling.

Natasha didn't waste another second, her mouth was on your cunt in an instant and you both gave a gluttonous moan at the contact. “Fuck,” you cried out as the redhead flattened her tongue and explored your cunt with a newfound vigour. Your thighs clasped around Natasha’s head and your hips seemed to develop their own free will as you desperately tried to grind against the source of your disorientating pleasure.

“God, you taste so good,” she mumbled against you before sinking her tongue inside. Her moans resonated through your entire body, vibrations brushing every nerve ending as she gripped your hips and forced you to stay still as she fucked you.

“Please,” you whined though you had no idea what you were pleading for. It was all so much. Natasha seemed to know what you needed and swiftly switched to sucking your clit in her mouth. You tugged on your restraints and arched your back sharply, core ablaze.

The spy examined you closely for everything that made your body shudder and cunt clench. It wasn't hard to figure out how highly responsive and sensitive you were. Poor thing, Natasha had thought as she sucked on your puffy lips as a momentary relief.

It didn't take long to work you up to your orgasm and Natasha was more than ready to give it to you. “It's alright, detka, cum for me,” she coaxed before sinking her tongue into your cunt and setting on the pace you needed from her.

“Gonne,” you whined as the pressure built and built until it was too much and you went spiralling over the edge, floating mid air until you tumbled back down. Natasha pulled the blindfold down just as you came and your eyes locked in that moment, watching each other become entirely enthralled by the other’s acts.

“Give me another,” she instructed clearly, something dark lurking behind her eyes.

You weren't sure you could until Natasha pushed two fingers into your tight cunt. You cried out as your already overworked nerves were pushed once more. But it ached so good, hurting in just the right way that you didn't want it to stop.

Natasha’s fingers thrust and curled inside you as you became a mess beneath her. She cooed sweet whispers of praise as she coaxed you through another orgasm, touching you in the ways she had always envisaged to see you come undone.

You came again with a silent gasp, your body too wrecked to have the strength for anything else. Natasha pumped her fingers steadily as she watched you and left kisses across your inner thigh to bring you back to her.

“Beautiful,” she commented as she withdrew her fingers and brought them up to her lips, staring at you with a satisfied smirk as she sucked on her digits. You watched her through hooded eyes, your frazzled brain trying to figure out how you were ever going to be able to part from the assassin.

“Mine,” she whispered as she kissed back up your chest, as though she knew what you were pondering. “Always mine.”

[hgfictionwriter]

Maybe This Time - Part Three

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie and you finally get some 1:1 time together (thanks Janine!). You work to build new memories together, but hurt from the past needs to be addressed.

Warnings: None. Temporary, very light angst, but mostly sweet fluff.

A/N: Part two and one.

"What do you think? Should I go for it?" 

Jessie smirked as she saw the screenshot you sent her of her jersey in the Thorns' site shopping cart. 

"I don't know. I thought you said that was too big a commitment." 

"I did. But I was rather impressed at the last game. And we went for drinks after, I finally got to meet Janine – so you know, points for that. And if I think about it, I'm like an OG fan. But if you think I should get a different jersey..." 

Jessie laughed under her breath, her smirk now a full blown smile as she read your message while she ate lunch. The conversation she'd been on the periphery of carried on as she ate another bite before typing out a reply. 

"Oh yeah? Post-game drinks were a hit, huh? And you know, my stats are only getting better with each game 😉 And let's be honest, I'd be pretty offended if you got someone else's jersey. Except Sinc's. Because, you know, GOAT." 

"Oh, well, say no more. You had me at 'stats' lol. Done. I'll pick it up before next game." 

"Lol I figured. My plan all along – I know how much you love stats." 

"You know me so well. I have to say, I'm kind of tempted to modify the jersey. Add some sort of patch or stitching, 'Yay sports!'" 

Jessie laughed out loud, less discrete than before.  

"Don't you dare lol. I've taught you better than that. But hey, if you ask nicely, I could actually sign it for you 😎" 

"I'm sure I have an old group paper kicking around with your signature on it. I need to be able to wash this thing lol. What else can you offer though?" 

Jessie swallowed her food hard, the bite getting caught temporarily in her throat with a wince. Okay, no signature – how humbling. However, there was an opening. 

She stared at her phone temporarily before a loud clearing of someone's throat caught her attention. She lifted her gaze with a curious frown on her face to see Janine staring expectantly at her. Jessie instinctively tilted the phone inwards towards her body. 

"I don't even have to spy to know who you're texting," the blonde said rather self-satisfied. Jessie looked around, heat building in her face already as she hoped Janine was the only one focused on her.  

"Yeah?" Jessie retorted, attempting to appear as unfazed as possible. "You should be pleased. You keep pushing me to text her." She cracked a smirk. "Now that you don't think she's the devil incarnate for 'stringing me along' in university." 

"Oh I don't think you need to be pushed," Janine teased with a wicked grin. "And I never said she was the devil incarnate." She lifted a hand to her chest in exaggeration. "I merely questioned things. But you're right," she relented, "she's quite lovely. And she gives you butterflies, and she makes you blush - more than usual - and you try to act all nonchalant and it's just too adorable for words." 

"Uh huh," Jessie muttered with a flat look. Janine leaned in excitedly. 

"And I have to say, I got the sense that she and I could riff off of each other and just tease the heck out of you, so that really sealed the deal for me." 

Jessie rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, that's exactly what I need in my life." She'd never admit that it actually excited her that her best friend and you could get along so well. If – and it was a huge 'if' - anything evolved between you two, it was key that you got along with her friends and family.  

She started thinking about how well you got on with her parents and sister – you'd met before during your days at UCLA and they loved you. She also remembered how disappointed they'd seemed when she eventually told them that you two didn't speak anymore.  

"Well, since you're so invested," Jessie went on, rolling her eyes facetiously once more as she opened her phone again and turned it to Janine, "what should I say?" 

Janine squinted as she leaned in to read and it only took a moment for her expression to light up. Before Janine could say anything, Jessie snatched the phone back and placed it on her lap with a frown.  

"I don't want to hear it," she pre-empted the girl. 

"What?" Janine said innocently with a mischievous glint in her eye. "I am totally supportive of the flirtation between you two." She ignored Jessie's look of complaint and cut off her protest. "Her shutting down your autograph is pretty hilarious, by the way," she said with a marginally apologetic look. "Not smooth on your part – you know she's not impressed by your elite football skills. Don't lean on your Jessie the Footballer identity." 

"I wasn't," Jessie nearly hissed, trying to keep her voice down and avoid drawing attention. "I was joking. Half joking." 

"You were flirting, or at least attempting to. She left you an opening here though. So, you should ask her out." 

"I'm not asking her out," Jessie pouted, her shoulders rounding as she scooched closer to the table. She huffed upon seeing the scrutinizing look her friend gave her. "We're still getting to know each other again." 

"Fine. Don't define it as a date, then," Janine dismissed with a wave. She leaned in, folding her arms on the table. "Ask her to go for dinner." 

"Basic," Jessie remarked as she sat up and crossed her arms in disapproval. She frowned. "Plus that's too date-like." 

"Fine," Janine said curtly. "How about a hike?" 

Jessie hummed and hawed, unconvinced. "Maybe someday. Doesn't seem right at this point though." Janine rolled her eyes in exasperation.  

"Well, what did you two used to do back at UCLA?" 

Jessie shrugged. She saw the frustration Janine was telegraphing at how unhelpful she was being and jumped in. "We went to drop-in art classes sometimes." 

Janine held a hand up to the sky. "Thank you. Finally – something I can work with. Okay! Let's find a drop-in class for you two to go to then." She pulled out her phone and started browsing before shooting a look at Jessie as an aside. "Oh, and dinner's too date-llke, but an art class isn't? Okay." 

Jessie grunted and pulled out her phone as well to look.  

"Here," Jessie announced after a couple of minutes. "This'll work. She enjoyed painting." 

Without further consultation, Jessie began to type out a message to you. She bit back a laugh at how Janine's head was bobbing around periodically trying to peek at the message from across the table.  

"Don't send it yet! I want to see it," Janine pouted.  

"You are not writing my messages for me," Jessie told her pointedly, but gave a heavy sigh as she turned her phone for the blonde to see. An affronted look crossed Jessie face as Janine let out a guffaw and snatched the phone out of her hand.  

"No," Janine simply said with a wag of her finger before she started typing. Jessie reached out for the phone, but Janine turned her body away. Jessie clamored more, but stopped as soon as she noted some of their teammates glancing their way. She shrunk back into her seat, a hand rubbing the side of her face as she spoke in a harsh whisper.   "What are you doing." 

"Jeff. Relax. I would never lead you astray," Janine assured her. "And this is so very satisfying for me since I never got to help you with any of this during uni. Cause let me tell you, if I had been involved, you two definitely would've been living happily ever after." 

Jessie breathed in exasperation. "Please. Give me my phone back." 

"Okay, okay. Here," Janine said, all humour from her tone gone as she now offered Jessie a sincere smile. "Read it over, but I think this is good." 

Jessie gave her a lingering stare as she took back her phone and let out another withering sigh before reading.  

"Funny you should ask. I was thinking about how much I missed art classes together. How about I take you to one of the drop-in painting classes across town when I'm back from Houston?"  

Jessie lifted her gaze to meet Janine's and she studied the blonde for a few moments before relenting with an inaudible sigh. It was better than her original "I don't know. Paint class?" reply. She hit send and released another heavy breath as she tucked the phone away once more.  

"You're welcome," Janine said with a saccharine smile. Jessie gave her a fake smile in return, pulling a laugh out of the girl. "Hey, let's remember which one of us is engaged and which one of us is perpetually single." 

"Ouch," Jessie said with a light laugh.  

"I'm just teasing," Janine went on. "I genuinely hope this turns into something for you. Considering you've only come back into each other's lives, what, like a couple months ago? You two seem pretty solid already. And you seem happier." 

Jessie wanted to give a dry retort of some kind, but Janine was right. You two talked every day now and the chemistry you had in university was still very much present. And the depth you once had in your friendship was something that was quite easily and naturally being broached again. Even if you'd both grown and changed, the cores of who you were still aligned well and fit together. Too well. 

She'd more or less dismissed the spark of emotions that came up during your initial interactions as some sort of emotional muscle memory, but the feelings were proving to not be fleeting or diminishing.  

If anything, her feelings for you were growing. And this time they felt different, too. Heavier, deeper in some way. She was a more realized person now, as were you, and it made the connection between you more substantial. Less juvenile.  

Her phone buzzed. She opened her lock screen.  

"That sounds like a lot of fun! Let's do it." 

————

By the time your paint date night came around, Jessie was nearly buzzing with anticipation. It wasn’t an official date, of course, but she hadn’t seen you since that night after the game, and truthfully, it felt like it had been too long.

She was early - as usual - but as she rounded the corner to the building, she bit back a smile upon seeing you waiting. You were always early too, which she appreciated.

“Hey.” Jessie greeted as she approached. Again, she had to tamp her smile when you beamed back at her.

“Hey, good to see you,” you said as you stepped in for a hug, which Jessie reciprocated. “I love your shirt,” you continued when you stepped back.

“Oh,” Jessie said with a slight frown and a mild laugh as she looked down at herself in question. “Thanks,” she said as she gave a shrug and fought off a blush. She looked you up and down, not entirely discretely. “I like your outfit.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately and gave her a look. “You don’t need to reciprocate my compliment. But thank you.”

“I legitimately like your outfit,” Jessie retorted, her pitch rising and pulling a laugh out of you as you both walked towards the building. Jessie took a few quick steps and grabbed the door, holding it open. “After you.”

“Such service. Thank you,” you said, both teasing and appreciative. Jessie didn’t wink, but she did give a teasing lift of her eyebrows as you passed.

As the instructor gave their directions for the lesson, Jessie found herself distracted, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. The whole lesson carried on like that, really. Jessie had to make a point to not fall behind as she’d uncharacteristically lose concentration. The worst, well, best, moments being when she'd lean over feigning critical assessment of your work when really she just wanted to be close.

By the end, she was decently satisfied with the forest landscape she’d painted. However, she felt it paled in comparison to the ocean sunset you’d crafted.

“I love your colours. And the little cabin you added is great,” you told her as you were both leaving, canvases in hand.

“Well good,” she said as she got to a clearing on the sidewalk and stopped to turn to you. “Consider it my gift to you,” she went on as she held it out to you.

“Jessie,” you said sweetly with a smile as you took it and looked it over more thoroughly. “That’s really sweet. Thank you. It’s beautiful. And bonus - I get my Jessie Fleming signature, but on a far rarer painting as opposed to a jersey,” you laughed. “And what a coincidence. I painted this for you.”

Jessie looked at you for a moment before a smile broke out across her face as she belatedly took the painting you held out.

“Thank you,” she said softly as she studied the image. She frowned in realization as she lifted her eyes to you. “Is this the same beach from our photo?”

You nodded. “It is. Nice eye.”

“Who knew you were so sentimental?” Jessie teased.

“Apparently not you,” you replied with a roll of your eyes, but gave a small laugh. “Come on. It’s been a while, but you know me better than that.”

Jessie was quiet for a moment as she took you in. She eventually nodded. “I know.”

A small lull fell over you both before you asked. “So, what now? Do you have to leave?”

“No.” Jessie spoke quickly with a shake of her head. “I don’t have anywhere to be. How about you?”

You shook your head in return. “Same. Well, it’s beautiful out tonight. Want to just go for a walk? We can drop these off at my car first,” you proposed as you held up the painting.

“Sure. Sounds great.”

After a short detour, you both began your stroll along the quiet, tree-lined street.

“Thanks for suggesting that class,” you said. “I don’t really get to paint or pursue creative hobbies as much anymore. It was nice to make a point of it. I can’t imagine you have much of an opportunity to focus on things like that anymore, hm?”

Jessie sighed quietly in contemplation and gave a shrug.

“Not extensively, no. But we do lots of team building, so sometimes we’ll do artsy things. And I can do hobbies and such in my down time, whether during the week or between seasons.”

She looked over to see you giving her a soft smile.

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing really. Just kind of crazy how everything turned out. You’ve achieved so much and your life is so impressive.”

Jessie was about to interject with a compliment for you, but you carried on.

“Are you happy with how things turned out?” You asked with a slight cock of your head.

“I-um, yeah.” Jessie stammered slightly, caught off guard by your question. “I mean, yeah it’s been incredible. More amazing than I could’ve ever pictured. And I know I’m very lucky.”

“You’re not lucky, Jess. You’ve worked exceptionally hard.”

She huffed lightly. “Yes, but luck is involved too. Lots of people work hard and still don’t get half the opportunities I’ve had.”

“I suppose,” you relented. “But you’ve made the most of those opportunities and haven’t taken them for granted.”

“That’s true. But look at you. You’ve worked so hard. And I know what you’ve been up against, but you’ve risen above and built a great life for yourself,” Jessie emphasized.

“Thank you,” you accepted with a half smile. Jessie knew the ins and outs of your family dynamics - something few people truly knew. You smiled more fully at her. “And look at us now. We both left LA and then found ourselves in the same city again and got to reconnect,” you finished with a laugh. "It sounds strange, but it really feels like in some ways like no time has passed. Not really, anyway. Like you and I were able to pick up where we left off."

You let out a quick sigh, giving a deep shrug as you did so. Your eyes remained trained on the ground as you two walked. "I mean, we talked the other week about my family and it just felt so different. Like, I've told recent friends or girlfriends my history and everything, and they listen and they 'get it', but it's not the same. That conversation with you – via text, no less – had more depth and weight than any comparable conversation with my exes or current friends. You were there. You know it – and me, I guess - inside and out. And even if I retell things, it's just not the same." 

Jessie nodded, watching you. It did feel like yesterday when she was sitting next to you on your bed, sobs wracking your body after one confrontation too many with your family. Normally, Jessie was so analytical and tentative about her physical contact with you, but the second you started crying she put her arms around you without hesitation and you leaned in, resting your head on your shoulder as she held you. That was the first time, but it wasn't the last.  

Looking back on it, maybe your girlfriends did have good reason to dislike her. 

"I know what you mean," she told you. "It's different. I mean, it's the same with you in a lot of ways. You were there for me during some critical points – big decisions in my life and you understood who I was and who I wanted to be." 

You smiled at her fondly. You looked ready to say something and Jessie waited. A moment passed and you exhaled, saying, "It really meant a lot – having you in my life and the support you gave me back then. I hope you know that." 

"I know," Jessie accepted with a smile of her own. "And likewise." 

Her mind drifted. She should probably just leave things be, but not speaking her mind is what held her back all those years before. She needed to share her thoughts and feelings if things were going to be different this time. She took a breath.  

"You know, I was really shocked when we saw each other here." She paused briefly. "I don't know. We hadn't talked in so long. I think I'd relegated myself to assuming we'd never see each other or ever talk again. Despite how important we were to one another at some point." 

Her statement seemed to give you pause, the mild surprise evident on your face. You eventually glanced down at the street as you two continued to walk. 

"Yeah. That's true, I guess," you conceded, your voice soft. 

Jessie studied you, unsatisfied with the response you gave. She pushed.  

"I knew we wouldn't be able to stay as close as we were. That was inevitable with us living so far away from one another, but I don't think I expected contact to fall apart as quickly as it did." You didn't reply right away and she went on with an ironic laugh. "We went from talking all day every day, to a few times a week with a video call scattered in there, to the odd message every couple of weeks, then just texts on birthdays and at Christmas, to nothing at all." 

She wasn't sure what she was anticipating, but she didn't expect you to turn to her with a perplexed frown.  

"Yeah. It did taper off pretty quickly."  

Despite the time that'd passed, Jessie still knew when you were telling half-truths. She gave a bit of an empty chuckle. "What else are you thinking?" 

You returned her laugh with a mild look. "I don’t know. I'm just kind of confused, I suppose." Jessie frowned.  

"About what?" She questioned. Faint alarm bells went off in her head when you stopped walking. She stilled her movements as well and you turned to one another on the sidewalk.  

You took a moment to gather your thoughts. You spoke with a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. 

"I know it was me who stopped replying right away to messages – I don't deny that – but you weren't exactly giving me a lot to work with." You took a breath, dropping your shoulders before you spoke further. "Honestly? It was kind of feeling one-sided. Yeah, you replied, but a lot of your replies were brief and noncommittal. And when I asked if everything was okay you just told me you were busy. Which," you let out a slightly rueful laugh, "is absolutely fair. You were building this brand new, big life. Which is exactly what you were supposed to do. I don't begrudge you at all. I don’t know." You shrugged and averted your gaze momentarily. "I guess things just started to feel off." 

Jessie exhaled quietly as she processed your reply. What you were saying wasn't false. It had been so long it was easy for Jessie to just recall the end result – that you'd stopped replying altogether. That you'd given up on her; on the connection you'd both built for years. 

Standing here now though, if she was honest with herself, it was true that Jessie grew distant in her messages - purposefully so - knowing it would drive you away. What was she supposed to do? You two were never going to be together. And being friends was so incredibly hard sometimes because it was never just friendship for her. There was always this bittersweet feeling to everything and now that you were on completely different paths, there was an inevitable conclusion. Yet, she struggled to cut herself off cold. So instead, she took the coward's way out.  

Jessie scratched the back of her head. "I was busy," she repeated. She contemplated doubling down, but thought better of it. "And I guess I was finding it hard. We were building two very different lives." 

There was so much more she wanted to say, but she couldn't. What would be the point? Her chest panged when you gave her a sad smile.  

"I know," you accepted with a sadness in your eyes. "And I really wanted that for you. I just - it was hard to not feel like a nuisance. Like some obligation. So I just stopped writing."

Jessie's frown deepened. She knew all those years ago that she had to be hurting you, but she could lie to herself about it and focus selfishly on herself. Seeing you talk about it in front of her wasn't something she'd anticipated.

"I didn't mean for that," Jessie said. "And I never stopped caring about you," she compromised. 

"Yeah. I never stopped caring about you, either," you reciprocated in a subdued manner. Despite her role in everything, Jessie was still harbouring hurt from all those years prior and she felt compelled to push on. Sure, she'd pushed you away, but you'd let her. She erased you from her life little by little, day by day and you allowed it.

"Funny how quickly things change sometimes," Jessie went on. She didn't mean to scoff, but she did. "You didn't even tell me when you and [y/ex] broke up. You didn't even tell me you were having problems."  

In years past, Jessie was your sounding board for all your girl troubles. She remembered it well – it was painful. Having to hear you either swoon or – more often – complain about your girlfriends. Hearing how they disappointed or frustrated you when Jessie knew she could love you better. Just thinking back to it stoked a fire in Jessie's chest again. While she had genuinely loved you and cared about your well-being, she'd vowed to never get stuck in that dynamic again.  

You cracked a smirk. "It just seemed frivolous to bother you with something like that at that point." 

Another pang in Jessie's chest. "Well," she kicked idly at the concrete beneath her, "I would've been there for you if you ever needed me. I hope you knew that." 

You sighed and gave a hollow laugh as you pushed your hair back, causing Jessie to get momentarily distracted by the way the rays from the street light hit your face.  

"I know," you said quietly before meeting her gaze. "And I hope you knew the same about me. I know you're surrounded by people who love you, but," you shrugged listlessly, "I'd be there for you, too." 

Before Jessie could respond you gave her another smirk. 

"Besides. Though you never said anything explicit, I know you didn't like her. And by the end I could see why, too. No point wasting any of our limited conversation talking about her." 

Jessie bit back a smirk, but knew her eyes betrayed her. "Well, I guess that's poetic. Your girlfriends never liked me and I never liked them." 

Despite the mounting tension in your conversation, you laughed and gave her a nod. Jessie didn't return your laugh though. She gave you a solemn look. 

"You always deserved better than them. I know some of them were just fine, some of them even good, but they didn't seem earnest enough and they didn't love you enough." 

You were taken aback by her sudden proclamation. You opened your mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words.  

Jessie never understood how they didn't worship the ground you walked on. She practically did, even if she didn't show it. While those girls showed they cared through superficial acts like a generic bouquet of flowers, Jessie listened. In many ways. It was obvious to Jessie that they didn't really get you – not the way she did. And if they were so in tune with you, then why was it her you came to when things were hard or you were scared or even hopeful. If she'd been your girlfriend, she would've given you everything you needed and more. They clearly didn't. 

You eventually gave a soft huff and offered Jessie a quiet smile. 

"You've always been very observant. And very thoughtful. I get it now. There's a reason I'm single now. I don't want to settle anymore," you told her. 

Jessie was quiet before giving a nod of acceptance.  

"I'm glad to hear that." 

You both started walking again, though neither of you spoke right away. There was still a heaviness in the air, but it felt different now; hopeful.  

"I'm sorry for how things ended," you said as she glanced over at Jessie as you two strolled through the quiet street. "You've always been really important to me – regardless of whether we were in contact or not. I don't want to say that I wish things had been different, because I really don't see the point in regretting anything, but I will say I'm very grateful that we've had this chance to reconnect and rebuild." You paused. "I've really missed you. I didn't realize how much." 

"I'm really sorry, too," Jessie said, a smile spreading across her face. "And I agree – we can't change the past, but I also appreciate the chance to be friends again. I've missed you, too." 

She swallowed as she contemplated whether to add more. The lull that naturally formed told her to forge ahead.

"And you were never a nuisance or an obligation. I'm really sorry it came across that way."

"Awww, Jessie," you said in a teasing voice, lifting your conversation up again. You paused your steps and Jessie stopped and turned to you in question. "Come on," you beckoned as you waved her over and brought out your phone. "We need a new photo together." 

Jessie didn't fight it. Instead, she smiled at you and walked over to stand next to you. You leaned into her and Jessie found her hand naturally gravitated to your waist. It rest there before Jessie could even realize it, but before she could fret, you looked back at her with a smile before facing forward again. 

You took the photo and immediately opened up your messages with Jessie to send it to her. Jessie belatedly realized her hand was still on you and she pulled it back, holding her hands behind her. 

"There," you announced. "Now we can start rebuilding our collection. Portland memories – not just UCLA anymore." 

Jessie laughed and held up her phone, pointing the camera at you. 

"No, come on," you whined immediately and she laughed further.  

"Hey, this is part of the deal," she countered. You huffed, but eventually smiled for her. "Just remember. This goes both ways. I get new photos of you, too." 

She found herself giving you a wink. "I'll allow it."  

A/N: Part Four is available here.

[clockwayswrites]

You all don't see this. Nope. Didn't write it.

WC: 1284, Masterpost CW: visit to a leath kink shop, mentions of sex work

Paulina held up her hand, looking at her freshly painted nails. “You, Nickie, are a goddess and an artist.”

“I know,” Nickie said smugly.

“Like, seriously, you could make bank,” Paulina said. She pulled out her cellphone to snap a photo. The crystals in the center of the flowers that frame the sugar skull flashed beautifully.

Nickie gave a little shrug. The muscle tank she worn slipped off her tan shoulder, revealing more of the over the top, bright red bra. “Considering it for after. Right now sex pays well, I got the body for it—”

“Hell yeah you do,” Paulina agreed.

“—and it let’s me look after my girls. But I might be putting money aside for a shop front, yeah.”

“When you open I will let anyone I know in the area to come to you,” Paulina said. “And come myself if I’m still haunting Metropolis. Got to visit my boo Danny.”

“Someone has to come keep him in line.”

“Hey!” Danny protested from where he was carefully painting Han’s nails a blinding magenta. He did just fine with himself these days.

“He’s mixed up with a bad crowed,” Nickie continued, completely ignoring Danny, “just like Han here.”

“I don’t even know why I’m here,” Han protested meekly.

Paulina flipped her hair. “Who do you think helped him get his bad crowd? Danny can’t dress himself worth shit.”

“I know,” Nickie said with a sigh. “I remember what he was wearing when he moved in.”

“Again- hey!”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love your new gets.”

“That is true, I look amazing,” Danny said. He struck a pose as best as he could while sitting at a coffee table with nail polish in hand. He felt his bootleg Red Hood crop top ride up with the act, exposing a sliver of skin between it and his black joggers. “But I hate you for getting me hooked on lululemon, it’s stupidly pricey.”

“Good thing you have two sugar daddies then, ain’t it honey,” Nickie pointed out.

“Blessed life,” Danny said, finishing off the magenta polish with a flourish. He capped it before he started with the other hand to carefully remove the tape. His tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth as he focused.

“You should get them something nice.”

Danny snorted. “What, with their own money?”

“Sure,” Nickie said, starting to clean up. “Doesn’t matter who’s dough bought it if it’s good fun for everyone.”

Danny paused in his work of revealing the highlighter yellow polish under the tape to look over to Nickie. “What? I don’t— ooh.”

Paulina just laughed at him, of course. Even Han chuckled which was frankly a little insulting.

Danny cleared his throat. “I, um, do you think they’d… like that?”

“Honey, I’ve seen how they are with you. Doesn’t have to be nothing cray either. You can start simple, just a little accessory.”

“Huh.”

“I, uh,” Han said, nervously, drawing everyone’s attention. “I know a place?”

At least Danny was able to follow how they ended up standing in a leather centric kink shop, even if it felt like a bizarre turn for his life to take. He looked at the harness wearing mannequin he was standing in front of and tilted his head.

“Who has the patience to get into that?”

“Well,” drawled the shopkeep who had appeared next to Danny so suddenly he was half tempted to think the other was a ghost, “for some people, getting their partner into the harness is half of the fun. The obedience, the touches, the control… the denial.”

Danny swallowed heavily. Huh.

“Hello my darling, bring in some friends?” the shopkeep asked and swanned over to kiss a blushing Han.

“I’m not sure what they are,” Han said with a weary sigh. They let the other pick up their hand and examine their bright nails. “But Danny here was thinking of picking up something on the… introductory side to treat his boyfriends with.”

“Oh well we can certainly help with that. I’m Liam, Han’s boyfriend,” the shopkeep said, holding out his hand.

Danny shook the hand. “Danny, like Han said.”

“He’s dating the Boss and the Boss’ boy,” Han explained.

“They’re his sugar daddies,” Paulina pipped in.

“And damn adorable,” Nickie said.

Danny released Liam’s hand to bury his face in his hands. “I hate you all.”

“No you don’t,” Paulina said. “Now, what do you have in mind for the blushing boy, Liam?”

“Well that’s something for him and I to talk about,” Liam said. He put an arm around Danny’s shoulder (though was really barely touching him) and guided him away. Over his shoulder he called, “Show them around, Han!”

When they had space and a tall display between them and the other’s, Liam stopped. “Now, best way for me to get you something good is for you to be honest with me. I promise, nothing you say to me is going to be something I haven’t heard before. I’m not going to judge you. You and your boys ever done anything like this before?”

Danny shook his head.

“So you’ve had sex but it’s been mostly vanilla?”

“Yep,” Danny said, the word coming out as a strangled squeak. He cleared his throat. “I mean, Red Hood keeps his helmet on so that’s not really… usual. We haven’t done much, in any combo.”

“But you like this idea?” Liam asked, motioning around them, “Or did they just bully you into coming? Because if that’s the case I can find you something cheap to buy you won’t feel bad about throwing away or you can come back and return it in a few days provided you keep it in it’s packaging.”

“I, um,” Danny picked at the edge of his hoodie as he glanced around the store from under his bangs. What Liam had said about the harness came back to mind. “Sometimes, like, not in bed, Jason will tell me to ‘stay’. And, um…”

“That does things for you.”

Danny nodded, feeling mortified.

“Not that odd at all. Now, there are a few ways we could go,” Liam said and started walking again. “Handcuffs and restraints are one way. Or rope, it’s an art form so one of your boys would have to be interested in learning, but it can be something special. Or, I think maybe for you… this is where we should start.”

They had stopped in front of a display of collars and leashes. There were more types than Danny could have ever dreampt up. There was leather of all colors and patterns. There were plain black and brown collars and bright colors with poppy cutouts and rich jewel tones with detailed filigree and earth tones with geometrics. They were lined with suede and velvet and fur. Danny itched to reach out and touch them.

“Yes, I do think we’re in the right area. Go ahead, you can touch. If nothing here works for you, you could always custom order something instead.”

Danny reached out and ran his fingers over one of the collars, thinking. If this was Red Hood, Danny would have to go custom order red and black. But really this was for Jason. Danny lingered on one that was lined in turquoise suede. The leather was a bold rust and turquoise patina on a delicate, detailed circle and diamond pattern. Brass circles studded across the pattern.

“You know, I think we have a leash that will match that one beautifully. Should we ring you up?”

-

When Jason walked in a few days later to find Danny sitting on his kitchen counter, swamped in one of Jason’s large shirts, and wearing the collar he nearly swallowed his tongue.

---

AN: So this is a thing that I've now written! Loved the response to the tease I post last night~ Danny has gotten ideas and Jason is gobsmacked. Don't worry, I'm sure he bought something for 'Red Hood' too. ^_~ (Collar 100% inspired by one of Big Cat Den Crafts)

I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the mastpost.

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Hey, neighbor

Pairing: Jason Todd x (f) reader

Tags: neighbors, close proximity, sexual tension, roommates, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, touching, fluff, domestic

Chapter 3: Spending so much time with Jason in close proximity is distracting. Poison Ivy breaks into the safe house and kisses you with her toxin, knowing you'll do whatever she tells you. And what she tells you to do...

You woke up in a strange place, disoriented and confused. You took in your surroundings: a loft with exposed brick walls, minimalist furniture, and a cleanliness that felt almost military. The events of the previous day crashed into your mind like a tidal wave, and your heart sank. The vial, the body, your formula. Guilt and fear twisted inside you.

You sat up, wearing clothes that weren't yours—an oversized t-shirt with a Guns N Roses album cover on the front and sweatpants, both too big for your frame. Red Hood had given them to you last night. You remembered his voice, calm and authoritative. You were in his safe house, you remembered. Hiding from the world that might condemn you for murder.

The door opened, and Red Hood stepped in, carrying a gym bag. Your gym bag.

He paused when he saw you awake.

"Morning," he said, his voice low, tired. You presumed he had been out all night getting your things. Then he'd confirmed, "I brought some of your clothes."

"Thanks," you replied, your voice small. You got up off the couch and accepted the bag and rummaged through it, finding familiar items. It felt strange, intimate even, knowing he had gone through your things.

Seeing you in his clothes did something to Jason. The shirt hung off your shoulder, and his sweats hung loosely at your hips, emphasising how much smaller you were compared to him. He felt a surge of adoration, mingled with a sense of possessiveness. He even began to regret bringing you your clothes, not minding the idea of you wearing his for a bit longer.

"I'm sorry about everything," you said, your voice trembling. "I never meant for this all to happen."

"It wasn't your fault," he replied firmly, his tone effortlessly intimidating. "You were set up."

You looked up at him, confused. "How do you know?"

He hesitated. "I don't. I guess you could say it's a hypothesis."

You recounted the events of the previous day, the death, the chance encounter with your professor. What if she had told someone she saw you.

What you were unaware of was that Jason had already broken into Dr. Harrison's place, gathering enough blackmail to ensure her silence. He figured that his threat and the broken wrist were enough to persuade her. He didn't want to burden you with those details.

"It's strange," you admitted, “you having to hide your face in your own home.” You looked down at your hands. "I understand why you can't reveal your identity, but..."

An idea struck you. Digging through the bag, you found an old silk scarf you'd sighted there. "What if I wear a blindfold? You could take off your helmet without me seeing you. You should be able to, anyway. It's your home, not mine."

Red Hood considered this. The thought of removing his helmet and letting his guard down was both terrifying and tempting. He took the scarf from your hands, inspecting it, and confirmed it wasn't sheer before handing it back.

You tied the scarf around your head, making sure you couldn't see anything. "Okay, ready."

You heard the sound of him removing his helmet, a soft hiss of released air. There was a moment, then his voice, softer now, more human. "Can you see anything?"

"No," you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. "It's completely dark."

“How many fingers am I holding up?” He put his hands in his pockets.

You tilted your head, trying your best to have a look, only to come up short. “I dont know.”

He smirked. “Perfect.”

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

“Can you think of anyone who'd want to sabotage you?” Jason asked as he guided you to the kitchen. He opened the fridge, taking out bread and butter. He was starving from his shitty night.

You considered his question, standing barefoot on the cool parquet of his kitchen.

You told him about your co-workers and lab partners and how you perceived behavior towards you. As you spoke, you heard the sound of pen on paper every once in a while, jotting down details.

You began to pace, making small steps as you tried to provide sufficient details. At one point, you stumbled, and he caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist to steady you.

He liked having you in his arms, feeling your warmth against him. He wished he could tell you who he really was, to share more than just his alter ego with you. But for now, this was enough. He would keep you safe, no matter what.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Jason watched you navigate the room with his guidance, the oversized clothes making you look cute in a way that amused him. He couldn't help but notice how you seemed out of place yet oddly endearing in his loft.

He remembered the first words you spoke to him last night, smiling to himself.

"So,” he began, feeling bold. “I'm 'your hero'?"

There was a teasing edge to his voice, and you felt a flush creep up your neck.

"I-um-well..." You stammered, trying to find the right words. "It was just... you saved me. Twice now, actually."

“Really?” Jason chuckled, a deep sound that made you squirm. "When was the first time?"

You bit your lip, feeling embarrassed. "It was my first year at uni. A group of us went out, and we ended up at a bar. And then some big, creepy guys circled me when I left to get some air."

Jason's attention sharpened. He didn't speak, letting you continue.

You took a deep breath. "I was scared, but then you showed up. You didn't even do much - you didn't soeak. Just lifted your guns and made a show of aiming them at them,” you chuckled at the thought. “And they ran. You were so badass!"

He smirked, enjoying your giddiness and the way you blushed.

You smiled, though he couldn't see it. "I never forgot that night."

Jason couldn't recall the incident, which made sense. There had been no fight, no trouble—nothing memorable. But hearing your story, seeing how much it meant to you, made him feel something unexpected.

"Glad I saved you twice," he said, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness.

You blushed deeper, fumbling with the hem of his shirt. The embarrassing part was that you'd imagined how you'd run into him again at least a hundred times in your mind. And when you finally did run, you babbled like an idiot, and on top of that, had pulled him into your trouble. “I just hate being so fucking helpless sometimes, you know?”

He stepped closer. "There's something you can help me with."

You blinked in surprise behind your blindfold.

"Help me investigate this. Find out who set you up." He said.

A lot was on your mind. You were grateful he believed your innocence. You were scared to touch the formula again, but you couldn't deny the burning curiosity to analyse it that circled your mind.

"Okay."

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Jason enjoyed the way you reacted to him, the way a simple touch could make you blush and squirm.

At times, he would conduct experiments of his own. Touches that to you could seem innocent and accidental, but we're entirely intentional.

One evening, after a long day of working on the formula, you and him sat together on the grey couch in his loft. His mask was off. You wore your makeshift blindfold. You'd gotten used to the silk scarf over the past few days.

“What can you tell me about Elizabeth Langstrom?” He asked casually.

You put down your cup of tea. "She's my head of research. She's really smart. I go to her for help."

"So she's a mentor to you.”

“Mhmm,” you nodded.

“When was the last time you saw her?”

You thought about it. “She came over to drop off some samples I asked for… before I went out to the club.” You realised out loud.

He hummed. “Did she give you anything before you went out that night? Something you might have overlooked?"

You hesitated, the edge in his voice making you shiver. "No, I don’t think so."

Jason leaned in closer. You felt his body heat closer to you. "Think carefully. Could she have slipped the vial into your purse?"

You were quick to deny his acusation. "No, she wouldn’t do that. She’s always been kind to me."

Jason’s fingers brushed lightly against your cheek, his touch lingering with an unsettling intimacy. The closeness and his commanding presence made your heart race.

Her reactions are priceless, he thought, Every flinch, every stammer—it’s all so… fascinating.

You were trying so hard to hold it together.

"You sure about that?" He continued, his voice smooth but carrying an edge. "People wear masks, y/n. They show one face to the world while hiding another. I think she could be hiding something from you. And I think you think so too.”

You felt your skin flush, your voice trembling. "I don’t believe she would. She’s always been kind."

Jason’s hand trailed down your neck, his fingers grazing your skin with a deliberate, chilling touch. The intensity of his presence, combined with the lack of sight, heightened your vulnerability.

She’s scared… why? he mused, although I suppose it could come in handy… fear makes people easier to control

It sure worked on Harrison. And half the crime scene in Gotham, who he held in the palm of his hand. But he didn't want to control you, did he? He craved control in every aspect of his life. But with you… he wasn't sure…

His proximity and the deliberate nature of his touch made it difficult for you to think clearly.

"I- I don’t know." You swallowed. "Maybe she did, but I can’t be sure. Why would she betray me?"

"People betray each other for all sorts of reasons," he said. "Maybe she wanted something you had, or maybe she was pressured into it. I need to find out the truth. Can you remember anything else?"

You searched your mind. "She didn't seem threatened. She was calm. The same she always was. We had a good talk about my thesis. She said that I could change everything." You smiled at the memory.

Your giddiness was cut short by a mental image of the dead thug, branches sprouting out of his body.

"It could" his voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

"I need to talk to her." You spoke up suddenly, conveying the urgency in your voce. "I need to hear her thoughts about the formula."

"I cant let you do that." He interjected.

"I trust her, red." You insisted, trying out the nick name for the first time.

"Trust is a luxury we can’t afford." He responded. "We find the truth, or we pay the price."

“How do I know I can trust you then,” you whispered in challenge.

“You can always trust your instincts y/n.” He explained. “And your instincts are telling you I would never hurt you.”

The intensity of the moment left you unsettled. Because he was right.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

The next evening, Jason decided it was time to investigate Elizabeth Langstrom's apartment. Armed with the information you had given him, he made his way to the upscale part of Gotham where she lived.

Meanwhile, you were home alone. Comfortable in one of your short sundresses, trying to distract yourself with television.

Suddenly, you felt a gentle but firm hand turn your chin. Before you could react, a pair of soft lips pressed against yours. You jumped back in surprise, your heart racing as you recognized the intruder.

"Dr. Langstrom?" you gasped, staring wide-eyed at your head of research. Her presence was unsettling, her sudden appearance leaving you breathless.

Dr. Langstrom smiled, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Y/N," she chastized softly. "You haven't come to speak to me for the past week. Is everything alright?"

You had too many questions. How had she found out where you were hiding? Why did she kiss you? How did she break in?

You tried to step back, but the room began to feel dreamlike, your head spinning. An inexplicable wave of happiness and vulnerability washed over you. You struggled to piece together what was happening, the suspicion growing in your mind that Dr. Langstrom had somehow drugged you.

"What are you doing here?" you managed to ask, your voice trembling but laced with a giggle.

Dr. Langstrom’s eyes sparkled as she avoided your question, instead reaching out to caress your cheek. "I just wanted to see you," she cooed playfully. "I’ve missed you."

Her touch was both soothing and unsettling, the drug making you pliant to her manipulations. Your thoughts became hazy, and you found yourself smiling, unable to resist her advances.

"I want you to do something for me, y/n," Dr. Langstrom whispered, her lips close to your ear. "I want you to kiss the Red Hood. Until you’re both breathless."

The words echoed in your mind, and despite the sinister undertone, you found yourself nodding, feeling oddly agreeable. "Kiss the Red Hood... until we’re both breathless," you repeated, the drug making it seem like the most delightful request.

Dr. Langstrom chuckled, a playful edge to her voice. "Good girl. Now, forget that you saw me tonight. You never saw me."

Her words seeped into your consciousness, the command taking hold as the drug dulled your senses. You nodded again, feeling the fog of forgetfulness settle over your mind.

"I never saw you," you repeated obediently, a blissful look on your face.

Dr. Langstrom gave you one last, lingering caress before turning and leaving your apartment. You stood there for a moment, the room spinning around you, before collapsing onto the couch, your mind a haze of happy confusion and compliance.

You waited eagerly for the moment he'd come back home.

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 45)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (40)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**A loooot O'fluff and a hint of smut.**))

YFN woke from a deep sleep, not knowing where she was at first. She was face down on her pillow and as she lifted her head, she could tell she’d been drooling a little. That was always a sign she’d slept well. She wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, a little embarrassed at that, and turned to where her other hand was reaching and finding nothing. Lucy’s side of the bed was unsurprisingly empty. She didn’t know what time it was, but at least it was still daylight from the sun heating up the window shade. She made her way to the bathroom, still dazed and confused, stripping clothes as she went and dropping them into the laundry basket just inside the bathroom. She saw her toiletries all laid out perfectly on the sink and smiled at her toothbrush next to Lucy’s. She must have unpacked her suitcase while she was sleeping. Oh, Luce. She turned the shower on and took her toothbrush in with her, not able to stop the moan coming from her mouth as the warm water hit her. It was heavenly. She shampooed her hair, brushed her teeth, washed her body with Lucy’s shower gel, taking a little sniff of it because it reminded her of what Lucy’s skin smelled like up close. Usually she’d smell it when she had her head tucked away in that little spot between her collarbone and neck. Her safe space. It was only when she was rinsing the conditioner from her hair that she started to properly wake up, and with that came the realisation that she wasn’t alone.

A small squeak came from her mouth as she jumped at the sight of Lucy sitting on the bathroom sink with a smile, her head tilted as she watched her. She was playfully kicking her legs a bit, a sign of her excitement which also shone in her expression. YFN shared that feeling. She was here, in Barcelona. She smiled back and felt Lucy’s eyes shift to her dimples and lips before hungrily moving down her body and back up. She wasn’t quite done in the shower, but she needed to be closer to her.

“Morning, dimples.” Lucy cooed as she hopped off the counter and opened the shower door.

In that moment, YFN couldn’t care that Lucy was in clothes. She pressed her body up against her and looked up as Lucy’s lips found her own hungrily. Lucy’s hands found her lower back and pressed her close as she tilted her head deeper into the kiss. YFN moaned into her mouth when one of her hands grabbed her ass and she felt her excitement build, tightening her grip around Lucy’s neck. She was tempted to drag her back into the shower, but already felt so bad that the shower was still running. She broke the kiss, though kept their heads together, lips almost still touching as they both regained their breath.

“Hi, Luce,” she whispered as her fingers kneaded the hair at the top of Lucy’s neck. “I’m sorry about your clothes.”

“Don’t be.” She replied huskily and her hands moved up to cup her face ever so gently so she could kiss her just as soft. She kissed each dimple, her scar, her forehead and YFN took it all with her eyes closed and happy hums. “Are you almost done?”

“Ten seconds.”

“Okay, love.”

Lucy released her and she stepped back into the shower, chuckling at the dark wet patch she’d left up the front of Lucy. She didn’t seem to mind. She washed the rest of the conditioner out and turned off the water, squeezing the excess water from her hair as she stepped out. Lucy was waiting with a towel and wrapped her up like a burrito, pulling her close again.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” She murmured against her wet hair as they swayed.

“I have two days off to spend with you.”

“I know! And Jordan said I should be thanking her?”

“You should.”

She chuckled. “I’ll buy her another dog or something.”

“Whatever you buy, just make sure it’s not flowers…”

Lucy pulled back with a quizzical look and it was only then that YFN noticed something behind her eyes that wasn’t quite right. “Is everything okay, Luce?” She asked, looking up at her with wide eyes.

Lucy’s smile faltered a little. “Yeah, I just…I have a question. But I’ll ask over food.”

YFN’s head went to a negative. “Is it okay that I used your key and snuck in…?”

“Yes! Yes, that’s why I gave it to you. You here is the best surprise, I promise.” She kissed her cheek. “I woke with the biggest smile. Narla and I have been impatiently waiting for you to wake up. I promise, I’m so, so happy you’re with me, and excited for our day. I was thinking we can go to the beach this morning with Narla?”

“Yes, please.”

“Do you have anything you want to do this afternoon? It’s just after 10am now.”

She was surprised she hadn’t slept more, but her body was fine tuned to its seven hours. Luckily she’d managed to get another good number of hours in the planes and car the day before.

“Hm, maybe we can have a girls day? Get our hair done, eyebrows tinted, nails painted. When was Narla’s last trim?”

“I’ve been meaning to take her actually; we can drop her off while we get our things done. I really like the sound of a girls day.”

“And then we can watch a movie tonight with some popcorn and a home-cooked meal?”

Lucy grinned and this time, it took away anything but happiness there. “Yes please. Now let’s get some clothes on you and some food in you, yeah? I made an early lunch for us.”

Lucy stuck close to her but she didn’t mind that, she felt just as needy. They both knew they were lucky being able to spend another few days together and both took full advantage of it. Teasing, flirting, brushing up against each other, soft kisses and stolen glances. Lucy had made them chicken and avocado toasted wraps which tasted like heaven after she hadn’t eaten in almost a day. She hated airplane food.

“You know that’s the first time you’ve ever finished your food around me?”

“And I’m still hungry,” she groaned. “Hoping for my leftovers, were you? Not today, Bronze!”

Lucy grinned at that and put the other half of her wrap on her plate with a kiss on the temple. “That’s okay, I’ll make another.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Eat, love.”

YFN ate that one too, sneaking a few bits of chicken to Narla. She couldn’t remember being so full before. She took her plate up to the sink and washed it before drying her hands and turning to Lucy who was standing over the stovetop with a spatula, toasting her second wrap, looking at it and almost drooling. Lucy must have also had breakfast, but there never seemed to be an end to her hunger. She came up behind her, sliding her hands around her and over her abs as she pressed herself into her back with a kiss to her shoulder blade. Lucy put one of her hands on hers and leant back into her. They were silent a good few seconds, just enjoying each other when finally Lucy spoke.

“This feels so right.” She groaned, tilting her head back.

YFN nodded her agreement into the space between her shoulder blades. “You’re training tomorrow?”

Lucy sighed. “Yeah. All day. I should be getting a call from Sarina sometime today or tomorrow also. When are you leaving? I was thinking we can do dinner tomorrow night with the girls so you can properly meet them all.”

“That’ll work, I can fly out in the morning. We just need to…maybe be a little better with our…sex timing.”

Lucy chuckled as she flipped her wrap in the pan. “My only regret is how tired you were yesterday.”

“Mmn. At least it’s not game day. I’ll need to get the keys to the new office and settle in. It’ll be a prep day, mainly.”

“So that means we can stay up late…?”

“You’re pushing it,” she laughed and backed away as Lucy turned the stove off.

“I want to be pushing it…into you,” she grumbled cheekily, earning her a slap on the ass. “What are you going to do tomorrow?”

“I was thinking I might message Ridley. I miss her. We can lay around and…oh actually she can help me buy a dress for Friday.”

“Friday?” Lucy asked as she took a mouth full of wrap.

“Ooookay. Let me explain.” She hopped up onto the kitchen island and explained the Jordan and Leah situation, including how Jordan wanted her to go for support and the invitations she’d gotten from Catherine.

“Well, the flower comment makes sense now. And having ‘Joe’ in your corner is coming in handy.” They’d both made a decision to call her that so they didn’t accidentally say her name out of habit. “Also, who are you taking as your plus one?”

“I was just planning on going alone…you have training, yes?”

“All day and then a boxing class that night.” She frowned. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone.”

She shrugged. “I was alone for thirty years before I met you…”

“And look at us now,” she said with a mouthful, gesturing to their bodies touching. Needy.

“I don’t know who’s more needy to be honest,” she laughed. “But I love it. Plus, Jordan and Leah will be needing me close, I dare say. Jordan isn’t ready to let her back in yet.”

“You think she will?”

“I’m not sure at this point…maybe she’ll hit a point where she realises she’ll never really trust her again. I’m not sure. She really loved you messaging her yesterday, by the way.”

Lucy gave a proud smile, mouth full.

“So you’re okay if I have Ridley over?”

“Mi casa es su casa, mi amor. You don’t need to ask me.”

“God you’re sexy when you speak Spanish.”

Lucy loved being complimented. She finished her wrap quicker than it took her to make it and washed her hands before finding herself between YFN’s legs dangling from the counter.

“I’ve packed our stuff for the beach. You ready?”

“Did you get the sandcastle buckets?”

“What do you think I packed first, huh?”

“Then I’m ready… as soon as you ask me your question?” She asked with wide, worried eyes.

Lucy’s eyes changed then, and she seemed a little…something. Angry? Jealous? Protective? She walked away and returned with something, dropping it onto the counter near YFN. She recognised it and understood Lucy’s feelings immediately. It was the yellow envelope Mark had threatened her with.

“Tell me who did this.”

It wasn’t a question because it wasn’t a request. YFN bit her lip. Catherine had told her not to worry about it, but she shouldn’t have expected anything less from Lucy’s reaction. She wondered how angry she must have been when she’d found it in her suitcase.

“Kristie?”

“No…no it was Mark.”

“That fucking-” YFN covered a hand over her mouth before she became too overwhelmed with her emotions.

“It’s okay, Luce. Let me explain…” And she did. She explained about the photographer and Mark. She nervously let Lucy listen to the recording of him and told her about the conversation she’d had with Catherine. “So it doesn’t matter, it won’t affect us, he’s just trying to get a reaction but he won’t get one from us.”

Lucy’s eyes were closed and fists balled as she fought with her anger.

“Luce,” she cooed and took her face in her hands. “It’s okay. And before you say anything, I feel like security would make it seem like we have something to hide. Ca…Joe’s not worried, so I’m not either. Okay…now you can speak.”

“Were you going to tell me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to tell me if you see him again?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t like this.” Her jaw flexed.

“I don’t either, but it’s just something we need to deal with. Hopefully he’ll get nothing and just leave.”

Lucy buried her head in her chest, her arms pulling her close with an audible groan that took some of her anger away. “Do you know how scary and frustrating it is being in a different country to you with these fucking crazy people? I spend all of my time worrying about you and missing you and needing you.”

She realised then that Lucy’s anger had come from her fear for her, and she softened as she stroked her fingers through the back of her hair, holding her to her chest.

“Oh, Luce. I have people in the UK now, you know I have help if I need it…”

“It’s my job.”

Lucy had a way of breaking her heart in the best kind of way. “It is your job. But right now, I’m here with you and safe and happy. So let’s go and enjoy our day together, hm?”

The beach was a great opportunity to be more touchy with a half-naked Lucy. Most of the time they were in the water, she was wrapped around her like a koala, Lucy jumping them both over the waves. YFN regretted how thoughtless she’d been to wash her hair that morning, after Lucy had dragged her under for the third time. At one point Narla even decided she wanted to join and had a little paddle in the shallower parts. It was midday before they knew it, the sun was shining and she put her book down to look over at Narla digging yet another hole, Lucy using the sand she dug out to make her sandcastle. She realised too late that she’d created a monster with her gift when Lucy waved to get her attention and grinned proudly, gesturing to the sandcastle that was taller than YFN.

“Did you build us a house?”

“Not done yet!”

She knew Lucy’s present had been a success when Narla and YFN managed to have a 20 minute nap together while Lucy was still building her monster, always needing to outdo herself. It only ended when she wasn’t able to reach her bucket to the top anymore and she stepped back, hands on her hips like a proud dad. YFN took a photo of her next to it. Narla photobombed one of them.

They’d had a few snacks of fruits and chips Lucy had packed for them before they left at closer to 2pm. The first stop from there was Narla’s groomers where they left her while they went to get their hair and eyebrows done. Lucy went her usual dark brown with a tint of red that she let YFN pick out, while YFN stayed more natural and just wanted it cut and washed after the beach. She loved her natural, golden sun-kissed hair. Lucy seemed a bit relieved that she hadn’t decided to dye it, though she didn’t say anything. She loved how easy they fell into this, the normalcy of their regular days. She couldn’t help but stare at Lucy letting herself be relaxed in the chair while getting her hair and eyebrows done. They were such feminine things, and Lucy had never been comfortable showing that side of herself to the public, she’d noticed. Very rarely would she wear dresses or even have her hair down. Lucy caught her staring and gave her a wink. When they were done, they picked up an excitedly yapping Narla who looked happy that she’d gotten a fresh trim. Yep, Lucy in dog form.

They decided they’d just do each other’s nails at home, more bonding time, and bought different colours before picking up some groceries and heading home. After unpacking, they made each other choose what colour they put on the other’s nails and blindfolded them to do it. YFN painted Lucy’s a port colour called ‘Port-ugal’ while Lucy had chosen a light blue ‘Aspen Sky’ for YFN. After they dried, they sat on the terrace and watched the sunset together, just as they had in the UK and YFN realised that it had been the best day she’d ever had. She thought about the next best day, but that had also been Lucy. Her life had completely changed since she’d first met her. Since that sunset on the beach with Jordan. Since her decision to solo travel to the UK, and now she felt as if this had always been her life, and she couldn’t imagine it being anything else.

They made dinner together during kisses and laughs and flirting, ‘accidentally’ bumping into each other and leaning over each other unnecessarily. While they made dinner, Jordan called on Facetime with a big smile on her face. The Arsenal girls weren’t there but Jordan seemed in much happier spirits. She showed Lucy all of the flowers she’d received and her response was a simple, “Now I need to up my game.”

The phone call lasted a good 30 minutes and when she hung up, she saw a notification from Ridley that she’d not seen because of the phone call.

Riddles: Sounds good, baby Blue. I’ll pick you up at 0900.

After dinner they settled onto the couch with popcorn, YFN between Lucy’s legs with her back to her chest and a blanket covering them. Narla was curled up beside them, liking her own space. They were watching one of the new movies out and Lucy was heavily invested, her hands making their way under YFN’s shirt to trace patterns into her skin without even realising she was doing it. YFN relaxed into her, enjoying their peace and feeding Lucy popcorn over her shoulder. It was during the movie that YFN’s phone rang. Narla’s head jumped up at the inconvenience and she hopped off the couch, padding away to where she could go back to sleep. Lucy paused the movie as YFN answered it on loudspeaker.

“Hello?”

“Heeeey YFN, it’s Kyra.”

“Kyra? Hey mate, what’s happening?”

“Nothing much, are you free to talk?”

“Yeah…yeah I’m just on the couch with Lucy right now.”

Kyra paused. Lucy was one of her idols. “Hey Lucy! Sorry for interrupting…”

“Hey mate, and it’s okay, we were just watching a movie.”

“Okay…well I was just calling to say Courtney and I are going on a date…”

“Really?! That’s amazing!” YFN gushed. She’d told Lucy at the beach all about them and their interview.

“Yeah but I don’t know if it’s a date. We’re just catching up. And I don’t know what to wear. And I don’t know what to do. And what if she hates what I’m wearing? And how should I do my hair?”

“Where are Katie and Caitlin?”

“They’re out for dinner and I don’t want to bother them.”

“Are you two meeting tonight?”

“Yeah she’s going to be here soon.”

“Okay, show us what your clothing options are.”

“I just texted them through then…we’re going to the movies.”

“That doesn’t give you much chance to talk…okay I think you should go casual with the first outfit…Lucy is nodding too.”

“Okay.” The sound of shuffling made it obvious she was getting changed.

“Hair up or down?”

“Down.”

“Okay…I’m really nervous.”

Kyra was normally happy, bubbly, cheeky. Right now she was softly spoken and barely talking, so they knew she was terrified.

“What are you nervous about, little sis? You know Courtney. You grew together…”

“But we’ve both changed…what if she doesn’t like me now?”

“If she asked you out then she likes you. Sounds like you’re feeling a little self-conscious, hm? Courtney knows you. She likes you. She won’t notice any little details you’re worried about.” Lucy said.

“I…I’m not confident like you, Lucy,” she admitted softly. “Maybe I should cancel.”

“No! No, don’t do that.” YFN stressed and looked to Lucy. Lucy took the phone.

“Kyra, why do you think I’m so confident?” Lucy asked.

“Because I’ve seen you play and in interviews and everything.”

“You know that’s all just for show, right? It’s all public image.” Kyra went quiet and Lucy continued. “I have a lot of insecurities. I’m self-conscious about a lot of things. But I don’t let them dictate my life.”

“R…really? You?”

“Yeah,” Lucy laughed, though from her face, YFN could tell she was quite serious. “Yeah, I was always bullied growing up. I was shy. I was awkward. I still am, to be fair. I just hide it behind confidence. I’m either all the way up or all the way down, on any given day.” Kyra was still quiet, listening, and YFN was too. Lucy sighed. “I hate my hair, so I always dye it. Same with my eyebrows. I get self-conscious about my glasses. And about my nose. And my lips. And my hands…my fingers…” YFN took Lucy’s free hand and tangled their fingers, kissing every single one of them. “…there’s a lot. But everyone has a lot of things they’re worried about. I guarantee right now she’s worrying about how she looks too and her perfume and what to wear and what you’ll wear. It’s okay, she knows you and likes you for you. Just be yourself.”

YFN’s heart was broken listening to Lucy list things about herself she didn’t like. She had no idea.

“I…thought it was just me.”

“No, mate. It’s not, I promise. Just make sure you’re wearing something that makes you feel confident, whether it be something sexy or something comfy. And just talk to her like the girl you used to know. You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, Lucy. Thanks, YFN. I…I think I’ll go.”

“Send us a photo?” YFN asked.

Kyra groaned. “Yes, mum.” And just like that, cheeky Kyra was back.

They hung up not long after that, silence hanging between Lucy and YFN a little as they looked at each other.

“You know I think every single part of you is beautiful, right?” YFN asked, moving up in a straddle position. “Your hair…” She kissed her hair, “your eyebrows…” she kissed those too, “your glasses…your nose…your lips…your hands…” She made sure to kiss every single piece of her that Lucy had mentioned. “And somehow, you love me for all of mine too…”

Lucy’s fingers found the scar cutting through her eyebrow and traced that. “You don’t have any.”

“Not that you see. But I have my own insecurities as well, Luce. You’re just very good at making me feel loved, regardless.”

“That’s exactly how I feel,” she said huskily. “From that first moment, you saw me. Not that confident, public image of me. You saw me. And you love me. And you make me feel loved.”

“And beautiful, I hope. Because you are.”

“Yes,” Lucy chuckled. “You make me feel beautiful. I forget about my insecurities with you, because the way you look at me…” She trailed off, her pupils dilating as she looked at her girlfriend, moving her head closer, and the tension building. “I’ve never had that before and…I just hope I make you feel the same.”

“You do, Luce,” she whispered, her lips brushing against Lucy’s. “You really do.”

Their lips met each other as if worried they’d hurt one another. Gently, caring, moving in sync with each other, parting and giving way for their tongues to brush up against each other. Lucy moaned into her mouth.

“Let me take you to bed.”

“Now?” she asked, gasping for breath. “It’s only 7pm…”

“I thought we were working on our sex timing?” She grinned.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Lucy moaned and pulled her fingers out of her little Australian, earning her a whimper in response. “Patience, little one.”

She collected some of YFN’s wet excitement with her fingers and used it to cover her strap, jerking it so it was well lubed. Not that it was necessary. She pressed the tip into her glistening folds, dragging up and down to collect even more, running the tip up that sensitive line to her little bundle of nerves and teasing her there.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want you, Luce.”

“You have me. You’ll always have me, little one.” She pressed the tip just a little ways into her opening, teasing her. “Tell me what you want right now, hm?”

YFN tried to shuffle her ass further along the bed to push it into her but Lucy held strong. She was on her back with her legs apart, her ass already on the edge of the bed. Lucy was standing, her eyes dark and waiting for her to beg.

“Please, Luce.”

“Tell me.”

“I want your strap inside me…” she whispered.

“My what?”

It was clear from her expression what she wanted her to say. YFN bit her lip and Lucy pulled it free with her thumb. “That’s mine. Now tell me what you want inside you?”

“Your cock,” she whispered and watched the shiver run through Lucy as the words left her lips. Lucy’s hands on her hips tightened and she jerked her forward as her hips thrusted to meet with a ‘slap’, followed shortly by a pornographic cry from YFN. Lucy stilled and waited for YFN to meet her eyes before she spoke. “You know, I would have had you pregnant by now if I were a guy.”

YFN’s eyes widened as that, her core clenching around the strap in response. Lucy must have been satisfied with the reaction because she grinned and began ever-so-slowly pulling and pushing the full length of the strap in and out, teasing her. She groaned, taking it all.

“Feels good, huh?”

“Y…yes.”

“Better than my fingers?”

“I l..love your fingers.” She responded, honestly.

“Oh?” She asked with a single quick thrust amongst the slow. YFN whimpered.

“I love having them inside of me...”

“They belong inside of you.”

If words could make her come, they were just about to. What the fuck. Lucy was in such a sexual mood. Was it their conversation from earlier? YFN took Lucy’s hand, her fingers still wet from her pussy and pulled them up to her mouth, sucking them deep as she kept eye contact with Lucy as she continued slowly thrusting. She watched in wonder. One of her insecurities, been given so much attention.

Lucy’s phone rang and they both stilled, the strap still inside her and her two fingers still in YFN’s mouth. Lucy’s eyebrows knitted together and she looked over at the screen.

“Shit.” Much to YFN’s dismay, she picked up the phone and answered it without moving, her eyes going back to YFN’s. “Hi Sarina.”

YFN couldn’t hear the other end of the line, all she could hear was a muffled voice as Lucy’s darkened eyes remained on hers. She decided to be a pain and unstill, continuing to suck on Lucy’s fingers. Her darkened eyes widened as she watched.

“It’s okay, I wasn’t sleeping yet.”

Knowing she had the full attention of Lucy, she took her hand and stroked it down from her lips, over her jaw, down her neck, over her erect nipple and ribs down to her hip, giving her a hint. Lucy took the hint well. Using that grip, she slowly pulled the strap out and pushed it back in again, continuing her slow movements. YFN pressed her lips together to keep from making a sound.

“Thanks for the call up, Sarina, I appreciate it. I look forward to helping us win our way to the Olympics.”

Ah, her December call up. That’s why she’d answered.

“Thanks again, Sarina. Night.”

Lucy hung up and tossed the phone across the room.

“You’re being naughty,” she growled.

“Then fuck the naughty from me, Lucia. Do your job.”

[666writingcafe]

Level One

Dedicated to @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf and @thunderlightning351

Content Warning: referencing human sacrifice, slightly(?) unhinged Barbatos

"Hello, MC." Barbatos' sudden appearance at my side causes me to curse. I know he has the ability to teleport anywhere he wants to, but a little warning would have been nice.

"Apologies, MC," he continues. "I was simply following my instructions. Did you have a nice time with your parents?"

"Y-yeah, I did," I respond, still a little spooked. "We went out to eat at a Chinese buffet."

"That sounds lovely." He wraps an arm around me and guides me to the couch, remaining glued at my side as we sit down. This isn't the first time we've sat next to each other, but he's never been quite this close before.

And then I take a proper look at him. I'm not dealing with Barbatos the butler, but rather the Barbatos that accompanied me to the Severa concert. The one that I told Asmo I found incredibly attractive in great detail.

The Avatar of Lust is playing dirty right from the start.

Barbatos' lips are moving, but I'm not registering a single word he's saying. The parts of my brain that aren't obsessing over his natural scent are short-circuiting due to him being so close to me. One hand rests on my thigh while the other one plays with my hair and gently brushes up and down my arm. It all makes me rather jittery. I'm surprised I'm able to remain still. I want to simultaneously bolt out of the room and--

"You're not listening to me." Barbatos' harsh tone forces me to pay attention.

"I'm sorry. I'm finding it incredibly hard to concentrate." My explanation makes him smirk.

"Am I making you nervous, MC?" I can only manage a nod. "Good. Now you know how I felt when the roles were reversed."

"That's not fair!" I exclaim, remembering the exact moment he's referencing. "You told me to seduce you!"

"And you did, much to Diavolo's joy. He wouldn't stop teasing me about it for weeks." He repositions himself so that he's able to lean in closer to me.

"Once upon a time, you would have been given as an offering." His voice is low and menacing. "Not to the gods, like so many people believed, but to us. We're able to be entertained by sacrificial lambs for a long time. Inevitably, though, they become dull and boring. It's not their fault; it's simply the result of being exposed to sin over long periods of time.

"But your soul is different, MC. Due to the angel blood that flows through your veins, it maintains its brightness despite it constantly being surrounded by sin. Some might even say it feeds off it, making it that much stronger. If it weren't for Diavolo's mission, we'd have so much fun with you." His smile is that of a predator. I should be shitting my pants right about now. That would be the appropriate reaction to having a demon look at me like I'm his next meal.

Instead, I wait with bated breath for his next move. Barbatos tilts his head to the side.

"Of course, that doesn't scare you." he asks. "You find the idea rather arousing, don't you?"

It's messed up, I know. I shouldn't be turned on by any of this, and yet...

"I told myself long ago that I would only use my powers to help Diavolo, but you've made me reconsider that decision many times." He's pretty much on top on me at this point, holding me in place with his body weight.

"Why?" I whisper. He brings his mouth right up to my ear.

"Because the idea of messing with time in order to play with you is incredibly tempting." He kisses the base of my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

Do not succumb to temptation.

I grab his shoulders and squeeze them as hard as I can, making him pause on his trail down my neck and look up at me.

"I can't," I tell him, despite my body screaming at him to continue.

"Are you sure?" I close my eyes and take a deep breath, forcing myself to answer,

"Yes." I feel him get off me. Seconds later, he grabs my hand.

"It's okay, MC. You can open your eyes." Doing so makes him smile softly. "The first stage of your test is complete."

"Did I pass?"

"See for yourself." Looking down at the ring I slipped on earlier, I notice a mark that I'm pretty sure wasn't there before.

"From my understanding, a tally will appear for every stage you complete successfully," Barbatos explains.

"That makes sense." He walks out of the room, returning moments later with a note in his hand.

"When you are ready, this contains information about the next stage," he tells me, handing me the note. "Of course, you're allowed to take as much time as you need to recenter yourself. I can make you some tea if you'd like." I shake my head.

"I know this might sound crazy given what we just did, but would you mind holding me?" He chuckles.

"Not at all." He stretches out on the opposite end of the couch, and I snuggle up to him. He begins stroking my hair. After a few moments of calm, I gather up the courage to ask,

"Did you mean what you said about time, or was that part of the act?"

"I wasn't acting," he answers. "I merely displayed emotions that I normally keep suppressed. Everything I told you is one hundred percent true."

[el-tur-el]

like a heathen clung to the homily.

Pairing: Harper Geraldus x F!Tav

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content. 18+, Minors DNI.

Word Count: 1,102. Read it on AO3.

Little bit of a schedule swap - Rolan piece should be up on Sunday. Have this in the meantime, the brain bees said 'must write sad wet cat man'. (This is not the fic I have planned that involves edging, that will be coming later.)

Warmth. Patchouli and some kind of flower that she doesn’t know the name of, essential oils pooling in little slicks on the surface of the water. She sees herself in them, iridescent and raw, constantly changing shape. Home can be whatever you make it; she learned that during her time fighting the Illithid threat, when it came in the form of purple robes, of quietly murmured prayers. Of the flash of a silver sword, the peek of fangs from between pouty lips. The most elegant horns she had ever seen. The smell of peat moss and petrichor. Brimstone and something sweet.

It looks a little different now. A solid torso, a wiry frame; his back pressed against her stomach, his head tilted against her shoulder. His eyes are closed, and she can’t help but think that it was all worth it. For this. Just this. To be able to hold him, to be able to contort herself into the shape of his home.

She loves him, she loves him, she loves him.

She presses her lips to the crown of his head, and he smiles, slow and lazy. Sweet in that sort of way that makes her heart seize up behind her sternum. He deserves the world - she only wishes a human being could be capable of offering up something of that magnitude. She would move mountains. She would write sonnets. She’d kiss every freckle, trace the constellations mapped out on his skin, document them all to memory.

What a beautiful, fragile thing a heart is. What a privilege to be able to cradle one in your hands.

“I love you.” She murmurs against the soft black of his hair, slick with sweat and water and oils that were far, far too expensive. Indulgence breeds complacency, but he’s worth it. “Can I take care of you, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” He rasps, all wet-eyed wonder, thick and tempting, pools of honey.

Her palm splays out flat between his pectorals, soapy and damp, and she drags it down the dip and curve of his stomach, his flanks. Past his navel and southward, to somewhere warmer. Yielding. Her fingers loosely wrap around his cock, and she swears she will take him apart piece by piece with the reverence he deserves.

He lets out a shuddering breath, tilting his head to press his lips against the soft column of her throat. Such a pretty thing, soft and pliable against her. Malleable like clay, something to shape with her hands, make and unmake. She moves, slow, and he whines against her skin. She could bottle that sound. Drink it down every night. Headier than wine. Sweeter than mead.

“So good for me.” She breathes out, praise and prayer all in one. “Just like that, sweetheart. Look at you.”

His hips shift against her grip, the water in the tub sloshing with the movement. She’ll have to wipe up the floors later, but she cares little; another act of tenderness, another reminder of a love that she never once thought she’d be blessed with.

“Tav.”

“I’ve got you, lovely.” She moves at an achingly slow pace. There’s no rush anymore. Not now, not here, in this space she’s made for him. In the yawning canyon of tenderness that she’s so carefully crafted. A house of worship. A church, an altar, a prayer. Communion.

He’s always been a restless thing, and this time is no different; squirming against her, pushing up into her hand. Needy. Wanton. Debauched. She studies his face, the furrow of his brow, the bow of his lips. Memorizes it, pockets it for later. Savors every little detail, every whine, every moan.

“Does that feel good, Geraldus?” Something about this man, this bright and beautiful and brilliant man, has put her in a state of perpetual motion. The movement of her lips wrapping around every syllable, the innate need to be touching him at all times. Frenetic and frenzied in her need to prove devotion.

“Y-Yes, Tav, Gods.” His voice cracks, trembles. A low heat pools in her stomach. “I want - I -”

“Anything.” She whispers, and she means it.

“I want you, please.”

And really, truly, who is she to say no to that.

She’s silently grateful that she splurged on the ornate tub for their home, nearly the size of a pool; one of the few things she’d allowed herself to be selfish about. He gently disentangles himself from her grasp, turning over so he’s facing her, his cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink. He presses his lips to hers like it’s the first time. Does this every time. Still so soft and unsure of himself, even now.

Her hands come to his shoulder blades, and she sighs into the tentative press of his mouth as he pushes into her. She feels weightless, here, underneath him, the heat of the water around them. He traces a fingertip between the valley of her breasts, down to her hip bone. Exploratory. Cartography. Venturing landscapes made of flesh and breath. Two fingers slowly press against her clit as he ruts into her - shallow, languid.

It is not heat and fire and fury. It is home.

“I love you.” He sighs, his forehead pressing against hers.

Even now, with him settled against her, she is sick with yearning. It’s cloying and syrupy and saccharine, the way she loves him. Her friends regularly rib her about it. But she doesn’t care.

Happy. For the first time in a very, very long time.

His breathing grows ragged, his noises a little breathier, a little higher. Her muscles tense, anticipation thrumming under the surface of paper-thin skin, bursting at the seams. To watch him unspool like embroidery thread, to hold the weight of him against her as he falls apart.

“I’ve got you.” She breathes out again. “Let go for me, sweet thing.”

He shakes against her, a thin, high whimper spilling past his lips. His fingers press against her clit a little more firmly, still so eager to please even as he dissolves into little more than broken sounds before her. She keens, heat rushing through her veins, spilling forth. Her head tilts back and her eyes flutter shut, caught between the here and not, weightless.

They settle against one another, arms wrapping around skin spattered with rivulets of water, his face tucked into the crook of her neck.

Would that she were a church, so that she may bless and keep him always.

The silk swallows her up that evening. The thought haunts her, rattles about her mind.

Milk and honey. A crown of thistle and thorn. Royalty. Deity. Lover.

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

ICYMI: There are so many Japanese qls airing weekly, so I’m going to start posting this little round up at the end of each week. All but one of these are on Gaga and I highly recommend watching!

Chaser Game W

Fuyu got a personality transplant this week and I have officially given up on this show being what I hoped it was. Enjoy the mess and the humiliation kink and don't look for consistent writing, logical plot, or deeper themes and you will find some things to enjoy. Like these two beautiful ladies making out a bunch!

Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yara ka

I love this show so much, y'all. This week we got the return of Sakae's selfish chaos ex, Mizuki, and because this is a show by and for adults, this resulted in our leads engaging in some proper communication, clarifying their feelings for each other, and sharing their first kiss by the end of the episode. I loved seeing more of Sakae and Mizuki's dynamic, and I just know if Soga wasn't in the picture Mizuki would already be in with Sakae again. Sakae is a soft touch and Mizuki clearly knows how to play him. But thankfully, Soga has already wormed his way into Sakae's loyal heart, so he was not tempted to waver. And for Soga, who is experiencing a queer awakening via his relationship with Sakae, Mizuki's presence was a much needed jolt to sort out his own feelings and decide he wants to try a relationship despite his concerns about not staying in Osaka long-term. I also loved the way their friends rallied around them to push Sakae and Soga to figure their shit out, and the sauna scenes will never get old.

Perfect Propose

It's official, I have adopted Kai as my child and will be forming a protection squad. This show is striking a good tonal balance of being fairly downbeat and serious, between Kai's past and Hiro's current work/life balance issues, but also uplifting in how their relationship builds. I like that they talk to each other so honestly about what they're feeling for each other, and Kai's quiet confidence that Hiro returns his feelings and just needs to come to terms with it is both hilarious and correct. My favorite thing that happened in this episode was Kai confidently noting all the ways Hiro’s body was responding to him and asking him to “be conscious of it.” Kai wants Hiro to be conscious of Kai’s feelings but also of his own responses, and he’s asking him not to look away from it and pretend he doesn’t know there’s something between them. I love the confidence of that.

And I sympathize with Hiro, as well, because it's not just that he's never considered being with a man before--he also just doesn't feel he has anything to offer to a partner right now given his brutal work situation. His guilt and shame for missing the festival after inviting Kai to go together was real, and you can see that he just can’t fathom having anything to give with the situation he’s in at work right now. The trick will be trusting that Kai can accept those limitations until he’s able to find a better balance, and then actually taking steps to pay attention to what he needs and wants, both in this relationship and in his career. Hiro has not been taking care of himself and it's catching up to him.

Ossan's Love Returns

A downbeat week for this show, and an episode that did not entirely work for me. I liked some of the themes they were exploring in this one, but it was all missing the humor that I've come to rely on and I don't feel that all the story threads pulled together as tightly as they normally do. In particular, my head is inquisitively tilted at the show's decision to make Maki and Haruta's wedding episode feel like such a misery slog, to focus primarily on the tension and strife leading up to the event rather than the joy it should inspire, and then to stay in the melancholy after a small moment of catharsis for our couple (and some season 1 flashbacks) by focusing on the sadness their marriage inspired in their various lonely suitors rather than their own wedded bliss. Seeing a wedding in jbl is a practically unheard of occurrence; a bit more queer joy was in order IMO and its absence was notable. I also thought the swing from Kurosawa beginning to accept a new role in Haruta’s life to suddenly going back to being lovelorn felt abrupt and poorly constructed. It's not that I think these ideas are unfounded given the show's focus on older male characters who feel past their prime for romance, but the execution was not quite right. And of course I am not too keen on the death flagging we got at the end for Kurosawa; I really hope the show will not take this story in a tragic direction for him.

Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna 2

I have still only seen the first four episodes of this; sadly, the next batch is not yet available to me. But soon! In the meantime, let's revisit Nomoto sobbing over a lesbian film. She's just like me fr.

Next week we'll be continuing all of these plus adding My Strawberry Film, the final Drama Shower (go here for an explanation on what that is from @bengiyo) show for the season! I continue to be delighted by this embarrassment of jql riches.

[askthefivefallen]

A: *she smiles and sighs and relaxes into Emily's couch, into the pleasant pressure against her, the fiery kiss and oh so delicious familiarity in her touch, her soft words and the hunger flashing in her eyes- after resigning herself to fading into nothingness trapped within the prison of her own mind, Ass is soaking in every sensation. The idea of a shower together is exceptionally tempting- it's exciting new territory, and she's not so tired that- ah. Right*

I am incapable of granting privacy but, if it's any consolation, I've seen your memories and will remain silent for the duration. It's as close as I can give you presently.

A: *she smiles, ignoring Shamira for the moment* "Keep that shower idea on the backburner for now, Sweetheart. We're gonna try that soon but bath sounds great for now. Then... make a pot of coffee. I can't sleep quite yet."

You should. You're exceptionally tired. It took an impressive amount of mental strength to break through the shielding that should've kept you in, not to mention prying it open in the first place. I never slept, so your body-

A: "Shamira, please, shut up." *she sighs, shaking her head* "You know I'm just going to argue with you, you can read my thoughts, right?"

I can interpret your intentions but you speak straight from the heart. The lack of careful wording makes it difficult for me to understand.

A: "Okay, so you can't read my mind perfectly, good to know, but you damn well know none of us can sleep until we've talked about... this." *she makes a vague gesture to herself and then looks up at Emily* "Shamira can't, like, disconnect- she's always gonna be aware of what I'm aware of and she's not comfortable seeing you naked in the flesh just yet."

I have said no such thing.

A: "You're not the only one with a vague feeling, dipshit." *she rolls her eyes* "Literal fuckin' asshole." *she refocuses her attention on Emily, running her hands along the seraph's sides, trying to soothe her- and herself in the same measure* "I do wanna cuddle. I wanna just bury myself inside of you and lose myself for a bit."

Okay, that mental image was entirely unnecessary.

A: "But, Shamira's not quite there yet." *she tilts her head, then shrugs* "Although, she really liked you tossing her through portals."

And that revelation was also unnecessary!

A: *she smirks* "There's nothing I want to do more than pick up right where we left off- we went to the big fancy party, now it's time for us to have some fun." *she wants to waggle her eyebrows but... instead, her expression pinches* "But... Shamira tried for me, even when she wasn't really sure what I even was, so I... kinda owe her. And- she wasn't able to talk to you before. Now, she can, and I feel like she has some things she'd like to say."

I am under no obligation to cooperate.

A: *to be fair, that was true, but she knew an easy way around that bit of stubbornness* "Do you want to talk to Shamira, Em?"

((@ask-emily-em-emmy))