#I was gonna say she’s like a cold stream on a hot day washing over you then I remembered she’s a pisces

[rowanhoney]

so yes I do announce a new best friend every other week and I do crush hard on multiple people at once and then continue to crush again and again from the moment I first meet someone and I know people who are critical of these parts of me but I think it’s simply evidence of my capacity to love and it’s clear I’ve been blessed so there’s that

[highvern]

Aphrodite

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: smut, friends to lovers, established relationship, fluff at the beginning

Warnings: bathroom sex, kissing, groping, fingering, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics but they’re both actually switches (Mingyu is a service top), cumshot, Mingyu is still obsessed with titties, hair pulling, choking (hand around throat but no breath play), doggy style, unprotected sex (not endorsed by author), praise kink and strength kink go burrrrrr, there's a little bit of fluff/angst at the beginning (care/comfort) because she had a hard day at work, porn with feelings

Length: ~3k

Note: Drunk Goggles couple's bathroom scene mentioned in Discovery! the first third is so cute i actually had to close my laptop and step away while editing it so please enjoy my brain rot lol. its implied reader is on birth control and Mingyu knows it but still wrap it before you tap it guys. This was drafted as "Champagne Confetti" but i couldn't post it with that title with a straight face

ALSO stream Mamamoo Wheein's new album In the Mood! Aphrodite was a huge inspiration for the sweeter parts of this fic

read more here

The knob of your bathroom cabinet is digging into Mingyu’s shoulder uncomfortably and his ass freezing on the hard tile, but neither register in his mind much. His sole focus is on listening to you vent about how shitty work was as you wash up behind the flimsy curtain only a few feet away.

“Oh and then she had the audacity to say I should have been more prepared for the meeting! As if she didn’t send me the info an hour before!” You babble, head popping out to look at him. 

Mingyu tries and fails to stifle the laughter bubbling at the sight of your shampoo Mohawk.

“What a bitch!”

“Right?!” You move back into the spray and out of sight.

“She’s just mad because you’re better at her job than she is.”

“I wouldn’t be if she actually did her job.” You sigh.

“I’m sorry baby.”

“‘s not your fault Gyu.”

“Do you want me to beat her up?”

“Yeah, because sending my gigantic ass boy toy after her is gonna get her off my back.” You call, closing your eyes as foam rinses from your hair down your skin.

“The correct term is boyfriend.”

“The correct term is baby daddy.”

“You’re fucking nasty.”

“You love me.”

God, I do.

But it’s too early to say those words with the level of earnestness he feels so Mingyu bites his tongue.

Steam and lavender soap tickle his senses as you wash away the evidence of your previous distress. Your manager is number one on Mingyu’s incredibly short shit list.

Mingyu had barely waltzed through the door of your apartment after work, excited to spend the evening cuddled on the couch with a movie like you do every Thursday. He nearly shit himself when he found you sitting at the kitchen counter, tears staining your face and eyes rimmed red. You dove into his chest and cried for an over hour, unable to speak as wretched sobs escaped your throat. He’s never felt so helpless as he sat there, stroking your back as he held you, whispering gentle affirmations into your hair. It was his idea for you to hop in the shower once you calmed down enough to assure him you weren’t injured and “no, no one died.” 

The entire time, Mingyu sat close by listening intently, chiming in occasionally with agreements. He hadn’t follow you into the stall, void of the desire to worsen your mood. Shared showers were not a favorite in this household. Either it ended after two minutes to move to the bed or one of you hopped out, annoyed that the other was hogging the hot water and leaving them in the cold. Mingyu wanted you to relax but the only way he could relax was to make sure you’re actually okay. Which is why he is planted on the ground near the door like a guard dog, keeping an eye on you in case the tears returned; numb butt and sore shoulder be damned.

The squeak of the faucet signals the end of your bathing, echoed by the ruffle of the curtain as you push it aside to exit the tub. He keeps his eyes trained on your face, a smile spreading at the glow radiating from the apples of your cheeks void of the earlier splotchy dullness. You already look a million times better than when he entered your home.

Mingyu is trying very hard to be a supportive boyfriend while you continue to rant; but it’s challenging when the actual woman of his dreams is standing only feet away, completely nude and soaking wet, skin flushed from scrubbing and glistening in the warm glow of the light above the mirror. It takes all his might to ignore the swell of your breast and gentle the sway of your hips, or the curve of your thighs as you stretch for your towel on the rack above the toilet. The movement sends droplets falling in staccato from your hair plastered against your head onto your shoulder before trailing down your front, tracing dizzying patterns across your skin. His very own Aphrodite, exiting the sea to fill his heart.

“I hope she gets fired soon. I know I didn’t look like an idiot in that meeting, it was all her.” 

“No one thinks you’re an idiot.” He looks down at his hands playing with the cuff of his sweatshirt to distract himself from how you start twisting to towel off, body bending and stretching suggestively as you concentrate.

“She definitely does but who cares.”

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah, actually.” You smile, towel wrapped around you snugly as you step away from the tub and towards him. “But I could still really use a hug.”

“I can do that.” 

Mingyu jumps up from his place on the floor, beaming at the soft look on your face as he tangles you in his arms. He plants peck after peck across the crown of your wet hair, nose filling with the scent of your shampoo as he squeezes you against him tightly. The remaining moisture on your body is wicked away by the soft fabric of his sweater, covering him in wet spots along his front and down his arms.

“You’re the best.” You sign into his chest as he leaves a kiss on your hairline.

To distract himself from what he really wants to say, Mingyu blows a wet raspberry against your forehead.

“Nope! Never mind!” You squeal, trying in vain to break out of his strong grip. “Get away from me!”

“But baby you just said I was the best!” He counters, arms tighten to prevent you from wiggling lose.

“No, you’re gross and I hate you!”

“GASP.”

You can only roll your eyes at your boyfriend's dramatics.

“You hate me? I wipe your tears, clean up your snot, order us take out, and you hate me?” Voice rising in pitch, he gapes at you.

“You ordered take out?”

“Focus on me! I’m hurt. Devastated!”

“Oh no, what will I do?” You deadpan, but the twitch of your mouth betrays your amusement.

It’s a dangerous game given you’re still locked in his arms and his penchant for being over the top.

“I’m deeply deeply wounded missy. So there’s only one way I’ll forgive you.”

“And what’s that?”

“Kiss?” He says with puppy dog eyes and puckered lips that makes him look like a fish.

“Oh my god!” You cackle at his ridiculousness.

“Oh, there she goes again! Do you not care about me at all?”

His question is punctuated by him collapsing against you and fake crying. Laughter bubbles in your chest like champagne. Mingyu makes you feel better without even trying.

“Alright, come here you big baby. Let me give you a kiss.”

Matching smiles meet in a sweet kiss. In your relationship, one kiss frequently becomes ten or twenty so there's no shock when you keep planting pecks against his lips before moving to tickle them across his cheek, brow, and tip of his nose. Mingyu is all smiles and giggles under your lips as you move back to his mouth.

The short kisses become heated swiftly. You wipe the smile off his face easily enough, thanking the universe it takes almost nothing to get Mingyu started (not that you’re any better). You’re impressed he didn’t jump you when you stepped out of the shower in all your naked glory. Honestly, you’re a little disappointed he didn’t. But now with your towel unraveling from your tussle, pressed against his solid frame as you nip his lips, you know it’s a matter of seconds before Mingyu crowds against you and makes you feel a lot better.

Like clockwork, a simple hum in the back of your throat paired with your nails trailing down his chest sets Mingyu off. He turns with you still in his hold, lifting you up and depositing you on the cool marble of the countertop, pushing your legs apart to make room for himself. Clumsy hands push your towel away, giving him access to play with your chest. When the nail of his thumb scratches your nipple, you arch against him with a sigh. The shift breaks your lips apart and Mingyu wasted no time diving for your throat.

Apparently tonight is one of the few nights Mingyu wants to be a little more demanding with you. The hand not plucking your chest moves the tangle itself amongst the wet hair at the crown of your skull, giving a firm tug that has your spine arching, stretching your neck with a whine to give more space to bite along your throat. Teeth scratch against the cords of muscle, but his tongue soothes the abused skin immediately after; even when he’s rough, he treats you like a princess. You feel yourself clenching around nothing at the maddening combination of sensations.

“Please, Gyu”

“Please, what?” He asks, not budging an inch from where he latches to your collarbone.

“Touch me.” You whimper.

His mouth replaces the hand pinching your chest, sucking your abused nipple into his blistering mouth. The hand that was on your chest, skates down between your thighs, pushing your legs further apart, letting your foot find purchase on the handle of the cabinet next to you to spread you wide.

He starts slowly, middle finger parting your downy lips to trace from your entrance to your mound. The calloused pad of his finger nothing more than a gossamer touch against your heat, maddening as it teases you. Curling your hips upwards, you give him more space to circle your entrance before he dips his middle and ring finger inside, thumb stretching to caress your swollen clit.

“So wet already.”

“If you had a boyfriend that treats you how you treat me, then you’d understand why.” You pant into his hair.

“Think I understand plenty.” He replies, moving your hand to caress his dick where it sits tented in his shorts.

The bathroom is filled with shameless whines and puffs of breath as you work each other up. You’ve successfully gotten a hand into his underwear, fisting the head of his cock in a tight rhythm just how he likes. The other busies itself scratching down his back as he preps you for what's to come by twisting two fingers inside you, heel of his hand grinding against your clit with every thrust.

“Need you inside.” You whisper into his mouth.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you?”

“Mhmm,” your tone is verging on pathetic but his reaction washes away any embarrassment.

“Then be a good girl and turn around.”

Mingyu steps back, giving you space to quickly jump off the counter to turn your back to him. He busies himself with removing his sweater while you settle on your elbows, ass pushed out in front of him teasingly. It gives him pause, easily distracted by the arch of your spine and the subtle jiggle of flesh as you rock from one foot to another. You watch in the mirror as he blinks lazily, using one hand to push down his pants while the other cups a cheek, squeezing it in his palm. When his shorts are finally pooled around his ankles, he steps closer to let his length rest on your ass.

You can feel his leaking tip brush your tailbone, leaving a faint trace of dampness across your skin as you roll on to the balls of your feet to grind back on him. The rigid velvet of his shaft has arousal dripping down your thighs crudely.

You watch his face with rapt attention in the mirror. He’s hypnotized by how his cock looks pressed snug against your rear, resting hot and heavy in the valley of your cheeks. His throat bobs with a harsh swallow; hands wrapping around your sides, lazily tracing the curve between the bottom of your ribs to your hip bones. Mingyu’s hips move of their own volition, rutting across your ass as his cock continues to drool on your skin.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

“Come on baby, I had a hard day. Need you to make me feel better.”

Mingyu's eyes find yours in the mirror. You know the pout on your lips will get you everything you want. Mingyu knows it too.

“Condom,” he prompts. 

There’s a stash in the drawer to your left but Mingyu is fully aware he lacks the will power to reach over and grab one when his hands are filled with something so much more enticing right now.

As you shake your head with a mischievous quirk of lips, he’s pretty sure you’re playing a cruel joke on hum.

“Shit,” He curses. “Are you serious?”

“Fuck me, Gyu.”

Palming his cock, Mingyu recites a silent prayer that he doesn’t blow his load immediately. This is the first time he gets to fuck you raw and goddamit if it’s short lived. Tracing his tip through the mess between your legs, he collects your arousal to lube him up. He can feel how soaking you are at the idea of him fucking you without the barrier of latex, inner thighs smeared with your essence. Hopefully you’ll come as quickly as he probably will.

“You’re so dirty, letting me stuff you with my cock like this. Aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you gasp when he nudges your clit. “Your dirty girl.”

“That’s right, my dirty girl.” He growls as he pushes inside you.

The first inch has you both closing your eyes, vision filled with stars. As nice as he feels bare inside you, it’s the mental is getting you off more than the physical. Every time Mingyu stretches you out on his cock is a treat, but the knowledge that the flared head of his cock pressing deep inside is leaving traces of his seed along your walls has you breathless. You’ve never let anyone else fuck you like this and a part shielded in your chest hopes he’s that last to.

Mingyu is more or less losing his shit behind you. The scorching wet clamp of your silky inner muscles that he’s only felt on his tongue or fingers is better than he could ever imagine. Your pussy gushing to coat his cock as he splits you open has him on the verge of tears. When he’s settled in, your ass pressed firmly to his pelvis, you wiggle against him.

Mingyu responds by pressing forward, pinning your hips to the counter harshly to prevent you from moving again. You’re clenching around him so hard, it takes all of his self control not to cum. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You mewl.

You’re really not helping.

“Calm down.” He grits out, both to himself and you.

“Need it.”

“Oh you need it?” He chides, delivering a bruising thrust.

You reward him with a sharp whine.

“Calm down baby, I'll give it to you. Always do, don't I?”

One hand circles the base of your throat, not squeezing; just resting the curve against his palm as his thumb trails along the side of your neck. It stops your breath anyway. But then Mingyu leans down to press his chest with your back, face coming into view right over your shoulder to whisper in your ear while looking you in the eye through the mirror.

“But you gotta be a good girl and spread it for me.”

You heave at his words, afraid you might pass out. Hands scramble to grab your own ass cheeks, pulling the flesh apart so he has a clear view of your pussy sucking him in as he starts curling his hips inside you.

The way he’s fucking you is vulgar. Hand wrapped around your throat as the other moves back into your hair, your own brushing the tops of his thighs as he cants against your ass, balls slapping against your pussy with each thrust. Mingyu leans back to watch himself disappear into your cunt, pulling you up into an arch. The feel without a condom is melting his brain but the visual absence of latex is doing incredible damage to his psyche too.

You both are a mess of sweet whines and rough groans, bathroom echoing with the clapping of skin and wet squelch of your full pussy. Breaking his focus on the way your entrance stretches to accommodate his thick cock splitting you open, Mingyu looks in the mirror to watch the way your tits bounce in time with his hips; your mouth open in a silent scream, eyes misty with delirium as you watch him watching you.

“Feel so fucking good like this, shit.” He pants. “Hear how wet you are? Fucking love it don’t you?”

Your head falls forward pathetically, only stopped by the palm still resting around your throat. When Mingyu gives a tentative squeeze, you whimper a quiet agreement. He watches as you force a hand between your thighs, fingers rubbing your clit in tight circles to push you closer to the edge.

“Gonna come,” you whine.

“Yeah?” Mingyu asks, excitement clear as day. He tilts his hips to fuck deeper, stretching you just a little bit wider on his cock to send you home.

“Fuck!” You sob, tensing as your orgasm washes over you. 

Every muscle in your body ignites, squeezing impossibly tighter as electricity snaps through your nerves, licking your veins and exploding your field of vision in a blinding white. Like a taunt bow string being released, you curl in on your chest as you clench around your boyfriend’s cock, gushing down shaky thighs. Your free hand grips the edge of the sink, holding on for dear life as you twitch in his hold.

“Where do you want it?” Mingyu cries, two seconds behind you and using his last functioning brain cell to not piss you off by assuming he can finish inside despite wanting nothing more. “Gotta tell me where you want, Y/N.”

“On me, wanna feel you on me!” You cry, still playing with your clit as you pry open teary eyes to watch Mingyu from the mirror.

A bright red blush spreads across his chest and up his neck, glistening with beads of sweat and condensation from the steam clogging the air. His bottom lip swollen from where it's locked between clenched teeth, neck straining and biceps bulging from his harsh grip on your body. He has enough sense of reality to slip the hand around your throat into your hair, gathering the strands in a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of the way of the mess he’s about to make.

He pulls out with seconds to spare against a tsunami of pleasure that begins to surge through his body, beginning in his balls and crashing outward to swamp his nerves. It ripples across his skull, raising goosebumps in its wake as it ebbs through his blood stream. Mingyu’s abdomen flexes as he fists his cock still slick with your combined arousal over your ass; thick streaks of his seed rushing forward. You feel a hefty rope land between your shoulder blades, the sticky heat intoxicating as it trickles down your back. A few drops sputter on the dip of your spine and your hand still spreading you wide, decorating you in his own diamonds.

Mingyu can’t help the way he stares at your hole, obsessed with how you clench around nothing like you’re missing something. He wishes he was watching you squeeze around his dick, his cum dripping out of you with each pulse of muscle. Maybe someday he’ll get to.

As your orgasms subside, weariness circles on the edge of your senses. Two sets of eyes flutter shut, chests heaving and hearts beating in time. Unwinding his hand from your hair, Mingyu lets it gently rest next to your hip on the counter, preventing him from collapsing against you and into the sticky residue he’s left. He can’t feel his legs, head empty of coherent thought. Unconsciously, his thumb traces the dimple at the base of your spine, the gentle caress grounding him to his body. 

The quiet of the bathroom is only disturbed by the hum of the overhead fan. You both are spent, muscles weak and nerves fried. Occasionally a deep breath interrupts but it's peaceful as you bask in each other's presence. 

“Oh my god,” you pant, breaking his trance. 

“Hmm?”

“How did you get cum on the mirror?”

[whumpdoyoumean]

Whumptober #2

This is set post-Serenity!

part 2 part 3

xxx i’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back

Mal turns the water up, steam billowing around him. He usually likes his showers cold, brief, and to the point, but right now the hot water feels good on his stiff joints and aching muscles. He lets the water fall over him, eyes closed as he lets out a long breath and tries to relax. He’s been on edge lately, and he’s not sure why. Things have been quiet…maybe that’s the issue. He feels like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

He’s been around long enough to know that there’s always another shoe. 

He lets out a long sigh. 

“What’s the matter, Cap?”

Mal’s eyes snap open and he turns the water off, heart hammering. That sounded like…

No.

That’s impossible.

He shakes his head in an effort to clear it, sending droplets of water flying in every direction.

“C’mon,” he mutters to himself. “Don’t be stupid.”

“I dunno, stupid is kinda your default.”

Mal whirls around and startles so bad he almost falls. Wash is standing directly in front of him. Mal shuts his eyes tight and counts to ten and then opens them, and the pilot is gone. He takes a shaky breath and reaches for his towel.

“Gwai-gwai long duh dong…”

He’s imagining things. It’s exhaustion, maybe, or maybe his blood sugar is low? He’ll grab something to eat and hit the sack early, sleep whatever this is off. 

Things’ll be better in the morning.

xxx 

Things are not better in the morning. He wakes up feeling like death warmed over; every part of him hurts and he keeps getting chills down his spine. He opens his eyes and immediately closes them, letting out a groan. His head is pounding…The travel time between planets can be hard sometimes, but right now he’s grateful for it. It means he can get away with staying in his bunk a little longer.

“You gonna stay in bed all day?” 

Mal’s eyes snap open and he bolts upright, ignoring the ache that radiates through his body. He takes a few deep breaths. “You’re not real.”

“It’s funny, you saying that out loud. Who, exactly, are you trying to convince?” Wash (Not Wash, Mal reminds himself) brushes his nose with one hand then points at Mal. “You’ve got a little something.”

Mal reaches up to his own nose right as a drop of blood hits his top lip. “Aiya!” He lets out a steady stream of curses as he tilts his head back and pinches his nostrils to stem the blood flow.

“You should talk to Simon,” Wash says.

“Why, ‘cus I got a little nosebleed?”

“Well, that. And you’re talking to a dead man.”

Mal lets out a little hum as he slowly releases the hold on his nose, relieved to find that the bleeding has stopped. “Yeah, I don’t think the doc is that kind of doc,” he mutters. “Why are you here?”

But Wash is gone.

xxx 

“You okay, Cap’n? No offense, but you look like niou-se.”

“Thanks, Kaylee,” Mal says as he pours himself a cup of shitty coffee. His hands are trembling. He hopes it isn’t noticeable. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Simon has a small frown on his face. “Because Kaylee is right, you really don’t look well.”

Mal lets out a disbelieving scoff and turns to Zoe for support. She raises her hands and shakes her head.

“Don’t look at me. I agree with them.”

“Well I don’t think you look any worse’n usual, Cap,” Jayne pipes up, and Mal gestures at him. 

“See?” he says. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.”  It’s Wash who says it, from the corner of the room, his arms crossed over his chest as he leans casually against the wall. 

“Shut up,” Mal says, low. 

Jayne lets out an indignant noise. “I didn’t say nothin’!” 

The others are looking at him. He can feel their stares, can sense the concern coming off them in waves. He doesn’t like it. He shakes his head, setting his barely-touched coffee on the table. 

“Your sister on the bridge, Doc?”

“Um, yes. She is. Do you want me to--”

“Shut your mouth and leave me alone?” Mal throws him a sarcastic smile. “Yes, I do. That sounds like a mighty fine idea, actually! I’m gonna go check in with River. I suggest you all get back to…whatever it is needs doing.”

He storms out of the room and into the small passageway that leads to the bridge. He’s tempted to just go back to his bunk and lay down. Every part of him hurts. His head is the worst. The ache that he’s been enduring the last few days has progressed and now it feels like someone is trying to break their way out of his brain with an ice pick. But he’s the captain, and he’s got a ship to run. He’s run it in worse shape than this. He hasn’t been shot or stabbed, nothing’s broken, and he’s got both his ears, so he can handle this. 

“You’re shaking, Mal,” Wash points out unhelpfully.

“Yeah, well, you’re dead,” he says under his breath, and immediately feels a sharp pang of guilt, and the ache in his chest that comes whenever he thinks too much about the people he’s lost. 

Wash just laughs, a cold, mirthless sound that makes the hairs on the back of Mal’s neck stand on end. He walks faster, doing his best to ignore the presence of his dead pilot. He’s breathing hard by the time he reaches the bridge, and he stands at the bottom of the stairs for a second to catch his breath before he climbs up. River looks over her shoulder at him.

“Morning, Captain.”

“Hey, she’s in my seat,” Wash says. 

River smiles. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Mal’s heart leaps. He’s about to say You can see him? when River points to a little bobble-head cat settled amongst Wash’s plastic dinosaurs. Mal recognizes it as one that she’d picked up at the last port.

“He was lonely on my shelf, I thought maybe he would like the company…” She frowns, tilting her head to one side. She’s staring at Mal with that look she gets, the one that means she’s pondering something deeply. “You’re sick.”

Mal lets out a frustrated breath. “Not you too,” he says, and the words are barely out of his mouth before he’s hit by a sudden wave of dizziness. He grabs the back of the chair in front of him in a tight grip to keep from falling, closing his eyes and pressing the heel of his hand against his forehead. The pain behind his eyes sharpens to a bright crescendo and he can’t stop a cry from escaping him as falls to his knees. 

“Captain?” River’s voice is high and tight with fear. Mal wants to reassure her, but he can barely think through the agony in his head. “Simon!” 

“‘m okay,” he manages to gasp, and then his mouth fills with the taste of blood and his world goes black.

xxx to be continued…

[deputygonebye]

@brooklynislandgirl asked: "What makes you feel mos' loved?" It's a soft question as they stand side by side, each of them washing their own clothes down stream from where they collect water to drink. She isn't sure he'd take to answering her but the work is monotonous, and she has decided she rather likes the sound of his voice.

Sexual Sunday Meme.

Cool to the touch and fast in its pace, the waters of the stream nearest to the camp had become familiar ground to Shane in recent times. Ripples that danced across his knuckles and hands on many occasions, splashes of almost arctic conditions against the skin. Discomfort that would've been left to the kindness of the ladies of the group normally, the women who worked tirelessly to do everyone's laundry, since Beth had begun to do her own washing, so did Shane. Like a shadow that wouldn't stop its following of her. Always close to her and where ever she went, like a puppy-dog. Declared that the sudden change of responsibility for clothes cleaning was due to her sake; better would Beth be protected if he went along with her. Either of them stationed at the same stream, soap and clothes and supplies in hand, it gave a good enough excuse to get to know her more. A doctor whose secrets hadn't been fully cracked - hidden beneath smiles and gentle hazel - better friendship made. Flirtations, perhaps, too. But never would the former deputy confess.

"When somebody brings me an ice cold beer and a hot slice of chicken pot pie." Shane replied, scrubbing out the latest stain on his dark brown shirt, a tease upon smiling lips. "Ain't no way a man don't feel most loved after that."

"Oh. You mean seriously? Well, I guess when somebody says so. When folks use their words, when they let me know how they feel and all that. Especially when I've done somethin' right and to their likin'. Guys like me, we need straightforward conversation. No need for the artsy stuff. I ain't no Shakespeare - just give it to me straight. Let me know what I've done. Knownin' I've done good by someone else, made their day, it just melts my old dear heart. Reminds me that it's still workin', too."

Shane beamed, brown eyes roaming from one part of Beth to another, the fullness of her lips all the way down to the movements of her fingers, fragile bone massaging into apparel fabric, "think I almost got this gravy stain out, Miss Beth. Shame, though. I was kinda startin' to like it. Reminded me of how much fun the two of us had over supper last week. I gave you that bouquet of wildflowers, you patched up my cut cheek after that Geek had gotten too close, near stormed into camp. Poor Sophia. She ain't mean to do it. If only her damn father had kept his feet out of her way, she wouldn't have tripped and spilled her dinner. I don't even mind so much that it spilled on me. Poor thing. Let me tell you somethin', Beth, that guy, Ed, he's gonna get what's comin' to him soon enough. Men like that, karma's gonna find its way, no doubt about it."

[lastdr3am3r445]

🍰Dessert Before Dinner🍰

'Ello 'ello! Your favorite Strawberry Smut Peddler is coming at you live from Ventura, CA with a story written specially for the illustrious @katsukisdynamite (she's currently working on her blog, but do check out her work, she is truly spectacular... 🤩)

TodoBakuDeku X Fem!Reader

CW/Mentions: Poly Smut, Daddy Kink, Slight Hard Dom Themes, Oral (giving & receiving), Fingering, Edging & Denial, Temperature Play, Overstim, Pet Names, Degradation, Praise, Creampie (I guess, but its not mentioned specifically)

Word Count: 4,219

Summary: You get home just in time for dinner, but the boys think you look good enough to eat, and decide to indulge in a little dessert before dinner.

*** 18+ Content - MDNI , All Characters are adults***

Without Further Ado... Smut under the Cut!

Needly raindrops pricked your skin as you scurried through the drizzle to get to your apartment. It had been so sunny when you left, too. You were thinking what a waste it was wearing your new sundress when you smelled an oh so familiar aroma; chicken stock, kelp, bonito flakes…

“Mmmm… dashi.”

Shouto must have conned Katuski into making cold soba again. You could practically hear the argument in your head:

“No! No way!”

“Why not?”

“We’ve already had soba twice this week, you fucking fiend! No!”

“Pleeeaaase, ‘Tsuki-chi~”

And a soft blush would creep up Katsuki’s face, all the way up to his ears, then his pout would drop into a scowl, and…

“Tch. Fine! But this is the last time!”

And he’d mutter under his breath the entire time he got out his ingredients “something-something-icy-hot-bastard-something-it’s-all-he-fucking-eats.” Shouto had a knack for pushing all the right buttons to stroke Kacchan’s daddy kink just right.

You laughed silently to yourself as your key ground into the lock, a harmony of “welcome home!” greeted you as you toed off your shoes at the door.

“Dinner’ll be ready soon! Make sure you’re washed up!” Katsuki scolded preemptively, without even bothering to looking up from the scallions beneath his knife.

“Yes, ‘Tsuki-chi..” You teased, he paused his chopping to glare fiery daggers at you, only to resume with a shake of his head and additional muttering under his breath.

Shouto was the first to greet you in person, rising from his seat at the island to meet you at the door. He took your face in both hands, and kissed your forehead, the tip of your nose and finally your lips before saying, “Welcome home, Angel. How was your day?”

You waved away the pink dusting your cheeks, “Long..” you sighed.

“Then you should come sit, make yourself comfortable.” He smiled, offering his elbow to escort you to the couch. He never understood it, but his behavior always made him seem so… regal. He never failed to make you feel like a princess.

You flopped down into the waiting cushions with a sigh, only for Izuku to reach over and paw at your thigh,

“Noo, c’mere..” He whined. You obliged with a playful sigh, throwing your leg over his hips and pulling yourself up to face him. His broad palms rested on your thighs, and he looked up at you with cheeky grin,

“Hi~” He said.

“Hi..” Your hands found their way around to the nape of his neck, fingers toying with the curls there, elbows cradled in his broad shoulders..

He ran his hands over your legs until his crooked fingers crawled beneath the hem of your skirt, and then meandered down and around to cup the sides of your thighs. The motion sent little tingles up your spine, and his proximity to your more intimate areas set them aflutter.

“This new?” he asked, face scrunched up and curious about your dress.

“Yeah, kinda..”

“I like it..” He craned his neck up to give you one of his cappuccino kisses, deep and sweet, but still humming with potential energy; those crooked fingers finding their way under the elastic of your panties to give your ass a firm squeeze.

He broke the kiss when he felt a warm flush radiate from your face, and brought his nose to trace the contours of your jaw until his breath fanned the hollow behind your ear, “I’d very much like to see it off of you..” You felt him grin against your neck, before his teeth sunk into it, pulling a gasp from you before you were able to stop it.

“I’m glad to hear I was not the only one who thought so..” A cool voice spoke up behind you, startling you only slightly.

What had you leaping from your skin was slender, icy fingers, creeping along your jaw above where Izuku had been nibbling. Shouto’s thumbs rested on either of your temples, the tips of his fingers beneath your chin; he tilted your head back to meet him. Izuku reflexively bucked against the friction your leaning provided.

“You look truly radiant, Angel..” Shouto spoke, before leaning down, and pressing a kiss to your lips, slow and tender, like water filling a stream as a glacier melts. When the kiss ended, your lashes fluttered, trying to uncross your eyes.

“Oh.. I’m sorry…” Your heart leapt to your throat.

“I didn’t realize we were starting with dessert…” Katsuki’s voice, already gruff on a normal day, had dropped into a much more commanding baritone. His hand fisted on his hip.

“Katsuki, I-”

“What’s my name?” Shouto’s hands found your shoulders while Katuski began his steady advance into the living room.

Your eyes darted away, hoping to hide the embarrassment coloring your face;

“D-Daddy..”

Izuku twitched beneath you, his hardening length straining uncomfortably against his shorts watching your cute face pink up and your voice grow flustered.

Katuski came to a stop in front of you, nothing but Izuku and the couch he sat on between the two of you. He caught your lip beneath his thumb, a curled finger tucked under your chin guided you to face him.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Princess.”

“Sorry, Daddy…”

“Are we feeling greedy today, baby girl?”

“N-no! I was just-”

His fingers unfurled, clutching the side of your neck, his thumb dropping to complete the hold at your throat, not yet applying pressure, but threatening to.

“Oh, so we’re lying now?” He purred malignantly.

You hadn’t noticed you had leaned forward until you felt Izuku’s warm tongue lick a path between your breasts, catching your breath in your throat.

“No..” The sound came out more like a squeak than actual speech.

“No?..” Katsuki craned his head back, looking down his nose through lidded eyes as he tapped his finger twice against your throat, a warning.

“No, Daddy.”

“Oh good, because you know what happens to liars in this house?” His grasp tightened slightly, making your mouth water.

Izuku perked up from your cleavage, “C’mon Kacchan, ask her again..” His teeth nipped at the flesh of your breast while Shouto’s fingers skated down your shoulders, catching the straps of your dress, and sliding them down your arms to bare your chest, “Yes, I think she’ll be much more forthcoming..” He agreed before you felt him replace your discarded straps with cool kitten licks against your shoulders.

He loosened his grip, “Alright…” You felt his thumb come up to trace your bottom lip again, “Your boys are vouching for you, Princess, so I’ll ask again…” You squirmed beneath his touch, shifting your hips against Izuku’s, making him toss his head back, sucking air through his teeth while Shouto’s hands and the straps of your dress held you gently in place.

“Are we feeling… greedy?” His face was inches from yours, a cheshire grin playing on his lips.

Your words were lost on your tongue, so you nodded against his palm and closed your eyes, only for them to fly open when you felt your mouth invaded by a thick, calloused thumb, which quickly found your tongue, and pressed it down.

“I think we can oblige that, don’t you boys?” He chided over your yelps and whines. Shouto’s teeth found the crook of your neck, and his fingers your nipples, Izuku gave a lust laden giggle while he chewed his bottom lip and watched the two of them work you as drool puddled in your mouth.

Katsuki echoed with a dark chuckle of his own, releasing your tongue from beneath his thumb, allowing you to suck it wantonly. He pulled it from your lips with a wet pop, and gripped the sides of your face,

“Strip, and get on all fours.” He growled.

Shouto backed up slightly to give you space to scramble out of Izuku’s lap to do as you were told. He pouted at the loss, and beckoned Shouto to take your place. Before he could, however, Katsuki tangled newly freed fingers in green curls, and yanked them back roughly, eliciting a moan from Izuku.

“Don’t think I forgot you started this, Deku.” Only Izuku’s panting breaths could be heard in response, accompanied by his wide, lopsided grin.

“Brat..” Katsuki snarled through gritted teeth., “Get on your back. Head between her knees.” He flicked a finger in your direction before stomping around the couch to greet your form, ready and waiting to be used.

You looked up at Katsuki towering over you, palming his cock through his sweats.

“Are you gonna make me feel good, baby?”

You nod, yet another wave of blood rushing to your cheeks, “Yes, Daddy..”

You startled a little, but spread your knees farther apart when Izuku settled beneath you, now shirtless, his scars and muscled torso on full display.

“Do you want Deku to make you feel good?” You looked down into deep green pools, shimmering with want. Izuku’s hands found your thighs again, and he nipped and licked at the flesh there.

“Uuh-huh!” You gasped, briefly disregarding protocol for the man between your knees monopolizing your senses.

“Do you want Deku to make you cum?”

“Y-yes..” Where was this going?

Katsuki pondered for a moment.

“Okay, Deku can make you cum. In fact..” He crouched before you, meeting your eyes, “I expect it.”

“Mmhm.” He continued, “I want you to cum, as much as you want, all over Deku’s face.” You looked down at Izuku’s face, his eyes were now blown wide, thin emerald rings encircling his pupils, which seemed to focus hazily on your face. Katuski stood.

“You can cum.” He repeated, “He cannot.” As though to emphasize his point, Shouto yanked down Izuku’s shorts, and settled himself between his knees.

“What?!” Izuku snapped, glaring upside down at Katuski.

“Shouto will see that he doesn’t, won’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Tsuki~” You hear from behind you. Beneath you Izuku shudders, eyes fluttering closed as Shouto starts the process of edging him out of his mind.

When you looked up, Katsuki’s cock was lolling out over the waistband of his sweats, veins running the length of it like super highways delivering blood. His hand found your hair and tucked it behind your ear,

“And you are going to see that I do. Won’t you, Princess?”

One palm caressed your hair, gathering it all in a ponytail at the back of your head; the other jerked his cock, crystalline beads of precum forming on the head of it. You nodded, letting your tongue hang out of your mouth, a viscous strand of drool rolling off the tip and onto your chest.

Having witnessed that spectacle, a hungry look darkened Katsuki’s features. He patted his cock against your waiting tongue, the salty precum almost bitter against your tastebuds. He rutted once.. Twice… three times against the flat of your tongue, before using his handle on your hair to sink you all the way down, your nose coming flush against his pelvis.

You gagged on his head, the force of his thrust knocked you back on your heels, only for your cunt to meet Izuku’s waiting tongue. You moaned around his cock as Izuku started lapping at you like he’d been starved for days.

Katsuki pulled himself from your mouth, saliva cascading down your chin as you spluttered and coughed. Before your tongue could find your words, Izuku’s lips found your clit.

“Z-Zuzu!” You gasped, your eyes squeezed shut, and your hands coming down to entangle themselves in his hair. Katsuki’s grip tightened on yours as he yanked your head back up to meet his face.

“Really? Am I gonna have to fuck that name out of your mouth?” His voice rumbled before he impaled your face on him again, and proceeded to fuck the back of your throat again and again.

You knew you’d be hoarse, even so, Izuku licked delicious moans from the pit of your stomach, one hand kneading your thighs, the other probably lost somewhere in Shouto’s hair.

Izuku laved over your sex, working in a methodical circuit between your folds, purling his tongue over your clit, and sinking into your dripping trench before returning to the beginning, repeating this ritual more quickly with each revolution, until he was almost hysterical, at which point his tongue would stammer against your skin, which was likely the point he would have cum if Shouto wasn’t responsible for curtailing such an event.

It was at that point, however, that your thighs trembled and clenched around his face. You ground into his lips and nose while you sucked feverishly at Katsuki’s cock. Izuku continued to work your cunt through your orgasm, swallowing every ounce of it that you gave him.

The feeling morphed into a pleasurable flavor of pain as you approached overstimulation. You bucked away to escape his tongue, only for him to plant both hands on your hips and pulled you hard against him, his vision tunneling on lapping up every drop of you.

You didn’t know you had started crying until the tracks on your cheeks had started to cool. You looked up at Katsuki through glistening lashes, his punishment on your throat also grew more frenzied.

“Gonna… Fill your… Pretty… Mouth… Fuck!” He came with a shout as he dumped hot ribbons of cum down your throat before pulling out of you unceremoniously.

You collapsed forward coughing, gagging, sobbing into your folded elbows as another orgasm ripped through you, from Izuku’s tongue, Katsuki’s rough treatment, the knowledge of Shouto torturing the former at the command of the latter...

“He almost came, that time, Tsuki..” Shouto mewled behind you.

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki hollered, eyes still trained on you as you worked his twitching cock back to life. Once he was satisfied, he walked out of your limited peripheral, still caved in to your release.

“Why don’t you save our girl, and I’ll give this cumslut what he really wants..”

As though on cue, lean, pale legs entered your view and knelt in front of you. You felt cold, refreshing hands smooth over your back and rump, and a mild voice floated into your ear,

“Can you sit up for me, darling?”

You nodded dazedly, but failed to move.

“Hey!” Katsuki barked. Next thing you knew, Izuku vanished from between your legs, granting you a reprieve from his entrenchment in your pussy, allowing your muscles to loosen, and your body to relax.

Shouto turned you over, and pulled your limp body into his lap, arms folded behind his neck, his arms wound around your waist in full view of your other two partners, Katsuki knelt between Izuku’s knees.

“Selfish brat!” His hand was at the nape of Izuku’s neck, pulling him firmly off the floor to look him in the eye. Izuku failed to focus on him, though, his disoriented gaze cast to the ether.

“Tch. Filthy slut.” Katsuki cursed, “You that cum-drunk? Just from a little face-sitting?” He pulled Izuku closer, and licked a trail across his lips, sampling the slick that coated them before releasing him back into a crumpled heap on the floor.

Izuku giggled unintelligibly, eyes drifting to the ceiling. Katsuki smirked, dick twitching at seeing his boyfriend, all mighty number one in such a state.

One of Shouto’s hands ghosted over your ribcage, softly palming your breast, the glacial touch perking your nipples and raising goosebumps over your chest and arms. His other slid down, avoiding your over-worked clit, instead teasing warm fingers at your slit. The difference in temperature quickly had you dripping again; your head fell back to rest against his shoulder, his lips at the shell of your ear while you both watched, transfixed on the power play between the two men.

“M’gonna fuckin’ obliterate you, Deku..” Katsuki spat through gritted teeth, rubbing the head of his cock up and down Izuku’s entrance, before sheathing himself in a firm, deep stroke. Both men cried out, Katsuki breaking into a sweat at the stimulation on his still sensitive cock.

“Dammn, Sho~ No wonder he almost came, so fucking gooned out...” Katsuki laughed, flush already rising to his cheeks as he gave a few tentative thrusts into Izuku, who panted uselessly beneath him.

“What can I say?” Shouto’s breath tickled your ear, “I’m good with my hands..” As though to emphasize his point, Shouto slid two slender fingers into your dribbling cunt, and curled them against your g-spot, coaxing a broken groan from your rubbed-raw throat.

“You moan so sweetly for me, baby…” His whisper raised the hair on the back of your neck, and you gasped, your hips moving on their own as they rocked against Shouto’s fingers, your pussy aching around them while you watched Katsuki pin Izuku’s hips to the floor, his cock fucking in and out of him.

“Missing something, love?” He smiled against your ear, his cock flexing against your back.

“Uh.. uh-huh…” You moaned.

He chuckled, and you were surprised when he moved his hand from your cunt to hook behind your knee, his other arm wrapped around your waist as he lifted you effortlessly over his cock, teasing you open.

“What do we say?”

“P-please, Sho..”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” He dropped you down onto his throbbing cock, punching another hoarse moan from your lungs, but remained still.

“Sho..” You whined.

“Promise me something first, Angel..”

“Okay, what? Tell me.” You snapped, grinding your hips desperately to try to get any kind of relief.

His voice was in your ear; “Tell me when you’re about to cum.”

You nodding hastily, not realizing what you’d be agreeing to.

“Good choice…” He held your leg wide with one hand, fretting with your nipple with the other, and started thrusting into you from behind, your pussy choked down on his cock as he toyed with your body, his touch leaping through your nervous system like lightning.

Then the air was filled with the delicious sounds of you and Izuku being fucked. You struggled between closing your eyes to cope with the sensation of Shouto’s hands; each threatened to brand you or freeze you; and fixating on the increasing ferocity of Izuku and Katsuki’s entanglement.

You blinked, and Katsuki had one leg over his shoulder. You blinked again and he had both. Again, and Izuku’s hands were clasped around Katsuki’s neck, toes curling, fat, rolling tears cascading over freckled cheeks as he moaned wordlessly into the space between them, occasionally swallowed up by Katsuki’s lips.

Your cunt grew tight, your breathing ragged as you had fallen into a rhythm, fucking yourself on Shouto’s cock, succumbing to the heat almost scalding your thigh, the chill perforating the skin of your breast, you felt another orgasm rapidly approaching.

You chewed your lip, “Sho- Shouto..”

“Hah~ Yes Angel?”

“Mm- M’gonna- Ah~”

In an instant, Shouto slowed, dropping his arctic touch from your breast to your clit. He did not continue his ministrations, merely held his icy palm over your mound, halting your orgasm in its tracks.

“Shouto!~” You whimpered, one hand coming down to push futilely at his forearm.

“I’m sorry, Angel.. But I think that pleasure has been reserved.” He directed your attention back to Izuku and Katsuki.

“Kacchan!~ Kacchan!~” Katsuki’s familiar nickname fell from Izuku’s lips like a chant, Katsuki’s eyes flashed before throwing one final thrust, and cumming with a grunt, and a sadistic laugh as he stopped moving as well.

Izuku’s head fell back with a sob. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say..

“He hasn’t cum once since we started…” Shouto purred.

And you salivated.

Katsuki unsheathed himself, and stood, stumbling just a little, but strutting over effortlessly once he found his balance.

“I think he’s had enough, don’t you, Sho?”

“Yes, I think they’ve both learned a valuable lesson..” His teeth grazed your ear, showering a fresh wave of goosebumps over you.

“Then I say let them fix each other’s problems.” He waved his hand dismissively.

“And what about me, Tsuki?” Shouto pouted, tightening his arm over your waist, dick flexing inside you making you squirm, still sore from your ruined release; “I haven’t done anything wrong…”

“That so? I seem to remember things differently.”

“Wha-”

Katsuki’s fingers found your chin, and gently brought your face up to meet his, “I think Deku could use little help, Princess.. Think you could fix him for me?”

You nodded hesitantly, Shouto dropping your leg so you could crawl out of his lap and over to Izuku.

“No no..” Katsuki droned, “Stay where you are. I have plans for you, Icy Hot brat..”

You crawled on hands and knees to Izuku’s side, combing your nail through his hair, over his face, catching the few glittering tears that remained over his freckled cheeks with your thumb, before continuing down the column of his neck, flattening your palm against his chest before your tongue spilled from your lips and plunged into his mouth.

Your kiss seemed to bring him back to life, as he inhaled deeply, desperately through his nose, his hands curling themselves in your hair. He chewed your lips, sucked your tongue, maintained as much contact between your mouth and his until you had to pull away, a glistering strand of saliva connecting the two of you.

He was on you in an instant, reversing your positions so you hit the ground flat on your back, his lips on lips, your cheek, your chin, his velvet tongue painting long trails up the column of your neck and down your chest.

You craned your neck to see behind you. Though your perspective had them suspended from the ceiling, you saw Shouto, legs spread, eyes screwed shut as he fucked a rather bored looking Katsuki’s fist. You refocused on the verdette before you, endeavouring to devour you whole, planting your hands on either side of his face to pull him into another impassioned kiss.

Izuku boxed you in, densely muscled biceps on either side, scars laid out over his body like a road map over his heaving chest. He shoved his knee between your legs, and you ground your desperate cunt against his thigh thoughtlessly.

“Such a pretty girl.. So fucking pretty… and she’s all mine…” He babbled over you. He might have tried to tease you more, hold you down, make you beg, but by this point it would have been in vain, the way he was rutting his drooling, inflamed cock against your hip.

He was thick, and stretched you in all the right ways. You felt a wanton twinge in the pit of your stomach.

“Need you so fucking bad, Zuzu…Please..”

He roared into the crook of your neck, closed his teeth around it, surely leaving perforated bruises as a memento. He adjusted his aim, and crashed into you with abandon, chewing the inside of his cheek as your cunt took him so readily.

Your hands circled his neck, finding that familiar crook in his shoulders, your nails cutting stripes into his back, adding your own color to his canvas of scars.

“So good… so fucking good… Sweet Jesus, Izuku!~”

The praise fell on his ears and dropped straight to his cock. He pushed himself off the floor, and fucked you with slow, deep thrusts, watching your tits bound and jiggle with each collision. Your eyes rolled back, catching a short glimpse of a sweat sheened Shouto, tongue tasting his bottom lip, hips thrusting fruitlessly into air as Katsuki held his hand far away from his partner, that same sinister grin perking the corners of his mouth.

Your eyes fluttered closed to the sound of Shouto begging, “Tsuki, please!” before you wound your legs around Izuku’s hips.

“Gonna make me cum like that..” You whimpered into his ear.

He sat up, hands plastering themselves to your hips with brutal force as he pulled you onto him as hard as he pounded into you. The coil in your gut wound tight, the energy in your body reaching a fever pitch.

“God, fuck me like that!~” Your lips found their last mantra, which you cried out until you unravelled into white hot oblivion.

When you opened your eyes, you felt Izuku’s labored breathing against your neck after he caved in on top of you. You carded your fingers through his hair, and fussed idly with the curls as you tried to catch your own breath.

“Here, nerds..” You looked up to see Katsuki extending a water bottle to you while he finished chugging his own with his other hand.

You took it gratefully, nearly choking as you gulped it down while lying prostrate across the floor. Izuku protested your movement, clutching you closer to him while he nuzzled your neck sleepily.

“When you’re ready.. Well…” He glanced over at the man curled against you, “When he’s ready… Food’s done.”

“Oh shit!” You cursed, keeping your tone hushed so as not to startle Izuku, “Katsuki, I’m so sorry…”

He shrugged, “It’s cold soba.. What’s it gonna do, get colder?”

You chuckled, and asked “Where’s Sho?” before straining to look towards the couch to see a particularly contented Todoroki, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, cold soba in his lap.

You relaxed your neck, and let your own contentment wash over you as you buried your nose into veridian curls, and lost yourself in the scent of citrus and soap.

How’d you ever get so lucky?

[allthingsarmin]

nerd!armin x popular bimbo girl!reader?

the reader needs a tutor so she asks the smartest boy on campus and they have a “study session” in the library

Thank you for your request! I hope you like it! (ALSO: I’m so sorry this took so long to write omgmgg please forgive me) ~ I also would like to write a better version of this later. Though I'm in love with this prompt, I feel I didn't write the smut part that well.

Minors DNI! NSFW below the cut. Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader.

_________________________

At this point, Armin’s legs were burning, his heart racing and hands uncontrollably shaking, while you were practically out breath, your lungs tightening as you released yet another hearty laugh and not caring about the sweat running down your forehead. Neither you nor Armin expected to be running away from the librarian at 2am in the morning on the cold, campus sidewalk, your hair and makeup questionably messy and his shirt noticeably unbuttoned with hickeys staining his neck. However, the thrill of it all was something you didn’t know you both needed…

Earlier:

“Y/n?” Armin questioned, waving his sharpened pencil in front of your face. “Are you paying attention?” He awkwardly laughed as he scratched the back of his neck. You look up at him, battering your mascara-covered eyelashes at him. “Ahh… I have no idea what’s going on,” you sighed.

Armin wanted to bang his head against the library table. He knew it would be difficult teaching the ‘campus bimbo,’ but he didn’t know it would be this hard… yet there he was. 1am on a Thursday, the test tomorrow, and you still couldn’t grasp the basics of quadratic functions.

“Why don’t we take a break?” he suggested, loudly dropping his pencil on the table, leaning back in his chair, and adjusting his disheveled collar poking out of his blue sweater.

“Okay!” you giggled mindlessly, turning to face him in your chair as you twirled your hair in your fingers. “Even though I’ll probably fail the test tomorrow, thank you for teaching me!” you exclaimed, fiddling with your compact mirror and checking your dolled-up face.

Armin tensed up at your backhanded words. Pushing his hair back out of frustration, he cursed the fact he was wasting his time with such an ai-headed girl. “Y-you’re welcome,” he hastily said as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Why didn’t he say no to your study session - if you could even call it a study session - ? Even though Armin was the school nerd, it’s no surprise to him that you came and asked him for help because, well… Everyone does that - always taking advantage of Armin - only talking to him because they want to use his neat, color-coded notes, only inviting him to parties so that he would later help them study.

You felt bad for Armin. Though you couldn’t deny he was way too uptight, everyone did make fun of him for every little thing; the way he dressed like a professor, how he was always so punctual, the way he was the first to raise his hand when the teacher asked a question, how he came extra prepared to class with extra pencils.

But being so close to him now, this was the first time you realized how handsome he actually was. His turquoise veins protruding from his soft, pale skin… his slender fingers gently holding his flashcards, his toned muscles peeking their way through his rolled up sleeves and making his clothes just a little tight, the sharpness of jawline contrasting with his kind, bright smile, the way his ocean blue eyes stared intently with such passion, and his thick, golden hair growing to his eyebrows, allowing his cute ears to shyly show themselves while his undercut beautifully shaped his face… he was beautiful.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you suddenly asked.

Armin was taken aback by this question. No one had ever asked him this nor did any one seem to have any interest in his personal life whatsoever.

“No,” he paused, “I don’t have time for that stuff…” he trailed off. Armin never had a girlfriend, and thinking about it now, he never really had any crushes. He was way too busy keeping up with his grades, extra curricular activities, and student council. It would be practically impossible for him to keep such close relations with his kind of responsibilities, but that doesn’t mean he’s not lonely… his arms aching for someone to hold, his heart cold due the absence of warmth of a person he loves.

Armin didn’t bother asking you if you had a boyfriend. You were the most popular person on campus, partying with countless dudes every weekend, hanging out with a large group of girls at the mall nearly every day, your phone buzzing so much during class that your professor told you multiple times to turn it off, and you were pretty - your hair was always done in a pretty style, your makeup (though a bit slutty) always brought out the best features of your face, your nails were always painted, your skin was smooth and silky, and your perfume scent was addicting. Not only that but your clothes showed off your body so well; your skirt that was just a little short allowed people to see your cute panties when you bend over to pick something up, and your shirt that was barely even a shirt was always cropped above your waist and showed off your bouncy, plush cleavage… so of course you had a boyfriend. But even though Armin was an incredibly focused nerd, he couldn’t deny that your sweet smell, tight clothes, and lipstick-covered lips made him lustful.

“Too busy for that stuff?! Aren’t you lonely? It’s like you don’t even know how to have fun,” you chuckle, jokingly hitting his shoulder which happened to be really muscular underneath his sweater.

“Haha yeah,” he said, seemingly uninterested in where you were going with this.

“If you’re so busy, does that mean you don’t have time to masturbate?” you giggled, covering your plump mouth with your hand and fluttering your eyelashes at him.

Armin became extremely flustered as tints of red washed over his body in waves.

“W-what?” he stuttered. “Why are you asking me these questions? We are supposed to be studying!” he quietly shrieked, looking away to break eye contact with you and playing with the watch on his wrist.

“Haha, I am just joking. You’re such a nerdy boy, just want to make you blush,” you sincerely smiled.

“W-well I am a young college student, so obviously I - I do that from time to time thanks to p-porn,” he stammered.

“Woah woah wait. Someone as uptight and rigid as you watches porn?” you harshly laughed, genuinely shocked. You scooted your chair closer to him and leaned into his neck, your hot breath caressing his skin and your hair resting upon his shoulder. “What kind of porn does this nerd like to watch?” you inquired, widely grinning as you saw how embarrassed Armin had become.

On the inside, Armin was fuming, mostling frightened that he had gotten himself into an embarrassing loop with no escape that would most likely be gossiped about amongst the popular students, but mostly angry that some dumb, slutty bitch was wanting to pry into his personal life, not even appreciating the fact that he spent countless hours in the library helping you study to no avail because you couldn’t pay attention if your life depended on it… that this same dumb, slutty bitch was just getting her fun from teasing some nerd who is taken advantage of and forgotten by everyone… angry that you - with your pretty makeup, plump lips, short skirt, and overflowing cleavage - weren’t paying the price for your teasing.

Suddenly, Armin sat up in his chair, his muscles tensing through his clothes, and an aggravated look forming across his face, wrinkling his brows. He quickly takes a fistful of your hair and pulls you close to his face, allowing you to see the different shades of blue in his eyes and his soft, blond eyelashes. His innocent, geeky look is nowhere to be found on his face as he intensely stares into your eyes.

“It just so happens that this nerd likes to watch useless, empty-headed bimbos like you get their pussies abused,” he said, dominance seething from his teeth as his mint breath hits your face. Before you even have time to think, Armin unbuttons his slacks and practically forces your mouth on his hard, pretty cock.

Watching you gag and choke on his cock with saliva dribbling down your chin made him laugh. “You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, slut, we’re in a library remember?” he coos. He abruptly pulls you off his cock, taking in the sight of his lipstick-stained tip and the mascara tears streaming down your face. His treatment was so harsh and so sudden, making you miss the ‘nicer’ and ‘quieter’ Armin, but you couldn’t deny his sudden dominance made your aching cunt flood with arousal.

Before doing anything else, Armin scans the library, making sure no one is around. Grabbing your wrist, he forces you to sit on his lap, facing him on top of the library chair. Everything happened so quickly, barely even leaving you time to think, barely leaving you time to think that Armin was using your body to relieve his anger and frustration, not leaving you time to realize how sopping wet your needy cunt actually was.

Sitting atop his lap, he spreads your plush, soft thighs, exposing the fact that you didn’t wear any panties to this study session, causing Armin’s eyes to widen.

“I don’t know why I’m so surprised that a whore like you wouldn’t wear anything underneath your short skirt to our little ‘play date,’” he snickers. He leans close to your ear, softly biting your neck. “It’s almost like you were asking to be fucked by me.”

You don’t know what to say. Your mind is so empty, fuzzy, and shocked that the only thing you can do is comply when he demands that you ride his cock. Armin lets out a low groan from the bottom of his throat as your tight, warm pussy encloses his thick cock. You let a pathetic whimper as he begins to thrust up into you, and Armin gives you a glare, reaching up and tightening his hands around your throat. “Remember, you have to be quiet, or are you too dumb to remember that?” he sinisterly smiles.

Armin begins to harshly thrust into you as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto dear life as he deeply penetrates your spongy, sensitive walls. He slithers his slender hands into your shirt and starts toying with your nipples and pinching them when you’re being too loud.

Groping your ass, he whispers in your ear, “you know, I don’t even know why you’re in college… you’re so dumb. Why don’t you just drop out and be my little slut for when I come back after class, huh?” You sink your head into the crook of his neck, embarrassment coming over you at the same time as pleasure fills your walls when he tells you those mean words.

He grabs your hair, forcing you to look at him. Your hair is a tangled mess, your makeup completely smeared, and your eyebrows furrowed as your innocent-looking eyes beg for some type of release.

“F-fuck, you look so dirty,” he groans, leaning his head back.

“And you look like two students who are going to be in so much trouble…”

Both of you tense up and look behind you to find the librarian staring daggers into your souls.

Immediately, you hop off of Armin’s dick, gathering your things as he struggles to pull up his pants. Both of you at an ungodly speed bolt out of the library doors. Yeah, getting potentially banned from the library would suck, but maybe it was something you both needed. Armin needed to learn to loosen up, have some fun, and you needed to learn to take things seriously and maybe just put in a little more effort.

“Ya’know, it’s kind of late. We can go back to my dorm, and I can help you study for maybe another half hour… if you want,” Armin shyly asks as you both continue running down the sidewalk.

“What about the other half hour?” you questioned.

Armin’s face grows red. “We can finish… chemistry…”

[ushiwakaout]

Things I believe Iwaizumi Hajime (timeskip: age 27: athletic trainer) would say if you lived together (from the moment you wake up, to the moment you fall asleep).

game streamer! reader.

warnings: swearing

“baby... come on.” (x2)

“y/n stop being lazy come on. you already have the laziest job in the world, get up before i beat you ass in the gym.” starts dragging your legs out of bed so he can carry you although you’re naked.

“WHAT ARE YOU HITTING ME FOR! It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked, idiot.”

“Get in the shower, come on... No y/n i’m not gonna bathe you.” (7:00 am)

“I can’t believe you made me bathe you... Do you want me to use the blueberry body wash or the eucalyptus one?”

“Stop opening your eyes, you’re like a fucking baby.”

“You know i could just drown you here and now, right?”

“OI! DONT SPLASH ME WITH WATER, I ALREADYS SHOWERED!”

“You really are like a baby aren’t you, lazy piece of shit.... Yeah I love you too.”

“Come on, we’re doing yoga today since you’re being lazy.”

starts stretching you back, pushing you down to your thighs. “Are you getting beefy?”

“Ow! Baby, i don’t mean it as a bad thing. Look, give me you’re arm.... Now flex, look see- muscle!”

“.......that’s hot.” him admiring you’re little muscle improvement.

“I’m such a great trainer.”

“you’re ass looks great today btw.”

“come here give me a kiss, i don’t think i’ve kissed you this morning.”

“fuck you’re so pretty.”

“Now what? Do you want for breakfast before i fuck you.”

“Y/n i will fuck you here and now if you don’t stop touching me.”

“Fucking, fuck- fine come here.”

“Stop being a brat and get you’re ass over here.”

“No don’t wear those jeans, wear the other ones. They make you’re ass look good.”

“I have the day off today, what do you wanna do?” (9:30am)

“Come to the grocery store with me... I’ll buy you your favorite snack.”

“Walk in front of me for a bit, just do it y/n.”

“I think there was so creep checking you out, just keep walking close to me.”

“Don’t be a brat and hold my hand, now.”

*kisses your knuckles*

“your hands are so pretty.”

“Do we need anything else? No you don’t need that, y/n don’t look at me like that, you don’t need it.”

“oh, oikawas calling.... Hey shittykawa, what’s up?”

“Go ring this up for us will you?”

*watches you walk away to the register* “what’d you mean you’re surprised we’re still together? i literally asked you to help me pick out a wedding ring the other night, don’t be a jerk.”

“okay yeah, yeah, i’m planning on doing it soon.... don’t worry- yeah I gotta go she’s coming back, talk to you later.”

“How much was it?”

“Did you get any extra- Oh you know me so well, thank you.”

“you wanna go to the game shop and check out if they have anything new you wanna try?”

*follows you around while he looks down at his nails* “I need a manicure... No not right now, we’ll go next time i have a day off.”

“Did you find anything you like? Alright let’s go home.”

“They days really nice out, do you have to record anything?”

“Do you want ramen? I want ramen. Let’s go get ramen.”

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY RAMEN, you got your own woman.”

“No wait let me try yours and then you can try mine.”

“Oh yours is really good, give it here, we’ll trade.”

“I said put your damn wallet away woman, i’ll pay for it.” (12:00 pm)

“Oh hold on, they have a new manga edition of godzilla, let’s go find it.”

“What do you mean in to old to like godzilla.”

*pinches you nose* “you’re the one who likes being coddled like a baby.” *iwa pout*

*whisper yell* “Come we need to go i shoved a kid into a bookshelf for the last copy! Don’t laugh at me!”

*at home* “Leave alone now, i’m gonna read this now.”

*you’re streaming now* “Y/N I FINISHED, Can i get your attention now....” *realizes your live streaming* “I- whatever, ima gonna sit on the floor now.” (2:00 pm)

a/n: YOU CANNOT TELL ME IWAIZUMI WOULD NOT SIT ON YOUR SIDE LIKE A PUP AND JUST LAY HIS HEAD ON YOUR LEG

“What are you playing.”

“Can i join?”

“Who are you playing with?”

“Tell Kenma I said hi.”

“Give me your headset.”

“Kenma, hey- how’s kuroo.”

“Hey no, i was just talking to Kuroo give me the set back.” *pouty iwa*

*you tell him to sho* *he slaps the back of your head lightly* “Ima got to the store, i didn’t realize we didn’t have beer.”

*forehead kith* “do you want anything?”

“I’m back!” (4:00 pm)

“Sorry i took so long, I bumped into Matsukawa and Hanakami.” *both of them yelling from the living room* “And they decided to follow me home.”

“You done streaming now? Come here.” (7:00pm)

*Iwaizumi doesn’t really talk to you while he’s drinking with Matsukawa and Hanakami, he let’s you dose off on your lap bc he knowns that 5 hours of streaming tires you out pretty hard.*

*kisses your hair*

*plays with your fingers*

*runs his fingers along your skin*

*plays with your hair*

*matsukawa and hanakami leave*

“y/n, come on, let’s get you to bed.” (10:30pm)

“come on sleepyhead.”

“Come on get closer baby, i know you get cold.”

“I work early tomorrow so i’m sorry if i wake you.”

“Night sleepyhead.” (11:00pm)

[bruhstories]

Fate

Summary: The Abduction of Persephone or how Levi couldn’t get you of his head.

Pairing: Hades!Levi x Persephone!Reader

Warnings & Content: nsfw, mentions of rape & incest (cause, you know, Zeus is a fucking entitled asshole and nobody fucking likes him), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, language, loss of virginity

Word Count: 5.1 k

A/N: literally the only thing I have to say is that for the purpose of this fic, Hanji has she/her pronouns, and the first few paragraphs are written in third person xD happy reading!

Help me...

Please...

Help... me...

Sweat drips from his forehead and his eyes shoot open. That damned dream again. That sweet voice again. Levi Hades can't comprehend why he was dreaming. Gods don'tdream. His bed seems empty, but he never needed anyone in it. For some reason, now he feels like someone is missing. He gets up, naked body and blank eyes watching over his realm from the balcony of his castle. Empty. Other than the souls of the dead that quietly dance around like little flames, it's empty. Other than Cerberus sleeping peacefully, it's empty. And so damn cold. Mortals mistaken the Underworld for a scorching hot place, but in reality, it's as cold as Levi Hades' heart. If he even has a heart.

He wraps his toga around his sculpted body, a wreath of laurels on his coal-black hair, donning his arms with silver bracelets and rings. Time doesn't exist in the world of the dead, but Levi Hades sticks to a strict schedule. He waves his hand and a scroll and quill magically appear on his marble desk. He can't trust Hermes with this message, and so he gives it to one of his dogs to deliver it to Hanji Hecate. Who better to interpret the meaning of his dream than the goddess of witchcraft herself? LeviHades surrounds himself in thick, grey smoke before he disappears from his bedroom.

Somewhere on Earth, Y/N Persephone is being watched by Zeus. The powerful god cannot resist such a beauty, and he is known for having his way with anyone, even his own daughter. But it's not her time, he thinks, not just yet. She knows this, she knows what will happen to her when she reaches the age of marriage, and at night, when not a soul is awake, she sobs and prays that someone will find her and help her. She is willing to do anything to escape her father's clutches and her dark future. And every night she cries, it rains — it pours.

At the outskirts of the Underworld, Hanji Hecate receives a message. She reads it carefully, and a knot forms in her stomach. The goddess heard the pleas of a girl, whom she believed to be a mortal, but if Levi Hades heard her, too, then it could only be another deity. HanjiHecate closes her eyes and performs a spell in the hopes of locating the desperate girl. It doesn't work. It doesn't work because, unbeknownst to her, Demeter is hiding her daughter from the preying eyes of Zeus.

They searched for weeks, mortal weeks, for the crying goddess, but none of them had any luck. Y/N Persephone is somewhere in the shadows of Demeter, but even she knows her mother can't protect her forever. Zeus gets what Zeus wants eventually. The sun rises over the meadow, but Y/N Persephone doesn't know that because she's stuck weaving in a cave, sweat dripping down her forehead, hairs sticking to her face. The drakons Demeter placed at the entrance of the cave followed Y/N Persephone outside, guarding her as she washes herself in a nearby stream. He isn't supposed to be there. Levi Hades isn't supposed to peer at her naked body and the way she splashes the crystal-clear water. He was supposed to meet with Hanji Hecate and take a walk. He was supposed to go back to the Underworld after that. Yet here he is, spellbound by her gestures, her face, her eyes. And then, she sings. Y/N Persephone begins to sing and all the flowers around him bloom. Levi Hades goes into a shocked state, eyes wide open, brows raised. He knows that voice. He knows it because he's been dreaming it. His scent is picked up by the drakons and he disappears, leaving behind a trail of smoke.

"I found her, Hecate. I found her, but I can't get close to her."

"What do you mean you found her? Just like that?" Hanji Hecate's fingers trace the bark of a tree.

"It was fate. It must be." Levi Hades is desperate now.

"Calm down, Hades. I've never seen you so... twitchy." She laughs, kneeling in the grass. The witch plays with some fallen leaves, brown hair flowing in the wind.

"That's because you didn't see what I did. She started singing and flowers bloomed! I don't know what kind of nymph she is, but she is beautiful. Nothing like I've ever seen before."

"Oh, I never thought I'd live to see the day Hades falls in love." Hanji Hecate laughs again. "So why didn't you approach her?"

"Tch, because she was surrounded by drakons. I don't understand why a mere nymph would need so much protection."

The goddess gasps, all traces of happiness gone from her face, replaced by disappointment and anxiety. Levi Hades takes notice of this and places his cold hand on the witch's shoulder, but she flinches.

"You can't have her."

"You knowher?" His voice is condescending, offended that his good friend hid something like this from him.

"Hades, she's Demeter's daughter, Persephone. She's not just some nymph, but the goddess of spring." Hanji Hecate brings her palms together, forming a triangle. "We can't talk here."

Levi Hades nods and lets himself transported to the Underworld, back to the familiar souls lingering in the air.

"Talk, Hecate." He is impatient and demanding, arms folded across his chest.

"Zeus wants her, and Demeter and I are keeping her hidden." The deity explains with pain in her voice.

"Yes, well, you're not doing a very good job, now, are you?"

"Oi, the drakons noticed you. You don't think they would notice Zeus?" She snaps back, traces of arrogance in her voice.

"Hecate... it's Zeus. What would stop that brat from turning into a drakon fool her?"

The goddess shivers, shifting her weight from side to side.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"I do, actually. I'll bring Persephone here." LeviHades proudly states, but his face is still blank, not once betraying his true feelings.

"You'll... what?" Her mouth is slightly open, bewildered by the god.

"It's the only place Zeus doesn't have access without an invitation. Face it, Hecate, it's a good plan. Better than yours, anyway."

Hanji Hecate is speechless, completely at a loss for words. She ponders over the idea, a hand brought to her chin to think better.

"Alright, but what makes you think she'll just stroll through the gates of the Underworld without a complaint?"

"Oh, you've mistaken my words. I'll forcefully bring her here." He tilts his head, a semblance of a smirk on his lips.

"For fuck's sake, Hades, she's not what you'd expect. And what about me? I promised Demeter I would protect her!" HanjiHecate throws her hands in the air, her shadow taking the form of a raging dog.

"Do notchallenge me, witch. You know I can destroy you in the blink of an eye." LeviHades growls and her shadow restores itself to its natural shape. "Besides, you would still protect her. The Underworld is where you abide."

She knows she shouldn't carelessly be out in the open one hour before her coming of age. But Y/N Persephone, with tears streaming down her beautiful face, embraced her future. She knows Zeus will come for her, and so she willingly gives herself to him. With poppy seeds, she put the drakons to sleep and left the cave, clad in a sheer toga, her body visible through the transparent fabric.

"If you want me, come and get me, father!" Y/N Persephone screams at the skies, the flora surrounding her slowly turning a dark shade of brown and dying, just like her innocence would die tonight. The earth shatters behind her, marigold flames and ashy smoke cracking open the soil. Shadowy figures emerge, grasping the young goddess' limbs and they drag her down, down, down to the Underworld. She is afraid, her heart beats faster as the moonlight disappears, and all she can see is darkness.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be gentler, but I didn't want Zeus to get the wrong idea."

"You're Hades, aren't you?"

"Yes, but please, call me Levi. Persephone, I presume." Levi doesn't smile, but his voice is warm, contrasting the cold that surrounded your body.

"Don't call me that." You spit back, confused as to why you were in his realm in the first place.

"You should be a little more grateful that I saved you, brat." He narrows his eyes down at you.

"Saved me? You abductedme. You're no better than him."

Hanji Hecate was right, you had fire in your soul, and an attitude that would drive Levi over the edge.

"Tch, don't compare me to that pretentious cock." The god scoffs and your expression softens.

"Zeus is a... cock? With a beak and feathers?" You giggle and he almost wants punch himself. How could he forget how innocent you are? Clearly, he's been spending too much time with Minthe.

"That's one way to put it."

"Is there another way?" You ask with your index finger brought to your lips, pure curiosity in your eyes.

"Forget that, you said you didn't want me to call you Persephone. How else should I address you?"

"Y/N." You tell him, eyes peering to the balcony of his castle and you skip to it. "Oh, this place is huge! What are those?" You point at the colourful flames dancing in the air.

"Souls." Levi joins you, resting his arms on the marble railing.

"They're beautiful!" You are in awe, and he is just as mesmerised by your beauty. Not one sane god or goddess would consider the souls of the dead beautiful.

"Look, Y/N, I heard you. In my dreams, I mean. I'm not going to hurt you, I brought you here to rescue you." He lies through his teeth. Levi did want to save you, he still does, but he can't deny the fact that he wanted you all to himself. "I'm gonna mind my own business, you mind yours. Try not to break anything. And don't, under any circumstances, make a mess out of my castle, or my realm."

You lean on the railing, nose scrunched and a hand on your hip.

"What am I supposed to do, then? And what about my mother? What about when spring comes and I have to bring it? What about Zeus?"

Levi grits his teeth, almost regretting his decision of saving you.

"Tch, I'll deal with Demeter. I'll tell Zeus I'm marrying you. You can go bring spring when it's due. Happy?" He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"And you won't taint my innocence?"

Oh, he will taint it, alright. But not just yet.

"I won't do anything you don't want me to do."

"You still didn't answer my first question. What am I supposed to do?" You shift your weight from one leg to the other, impatiently waiting for a proper answer from your captor.

"Anything you want, just don't get in my way when I'm dealing with the dead."

"You're an aggressive little man, you know that?"

Levi can feel a blood vessel bursting on his forehead. You were truly annoying, but he couldn't just sit around and wait for Zeus to have his way with you.

"Anyway, I suppose it is safer to be here." You rolled your eyes. "Got any books?"

"What, you read?" He snorts, a condescending brow arched.

"Don't patronise me. You're the one who abducted me, you could at least try to be nice to me."

Levi sighs. This wasn't how he imagined things would go. He imagined you'd make the perfect housewife and keep him some company.

"First floor. Just stay out of the restricted section."

"Why?"

"Because I said so. Zeus' beard, are you always this irritating?"

"Are you?" You chuckle, a hand hiding your smile.

With another sigh, Levi disappears, leaving you alone. "Great job, Y/N, you made the only person who took a crumb of pity on you to go away." You say to yourself, a pout on your lips.

The Underworld wasn't as bad as you thought. Sure, there was the occasional fire popping from the ground here and there, and you had to be careful not to burn yourself, but overall, it was serene. Some parts of it were scorching hot, but mostly it was cold, and you always brought an extra cloak with you when exploring the realm. Levi wasn't always with you, in fact you haven't seen him in days, but you met his three-headed puppy. Well, puppy wasn't the best word to describe the creature, and it did try to eat you the first time, but you stood your ground and tamed the beast with your singing and eager belly rubs.

"This is a sight I never thought I'd live to see." Levi is shocked, watching his raging dog so calm. "Cerberus never lets anyone but me touch him." He gives the dog a few pats on his back.

"Well, Cerberus likes me better, don't you? Who's a good boy? You are, yes, you are!" You kiss all three muzzles and hug the gigantic beast, the heat of its fuzzy body warming you up.

"Oi, don't get ahead of yourself. Come here, Cerberus." Levi extends his arms and the creature is confused. "I said, come here."

The dog stops wagging its tail and plops next to you with a groan, one head resting in your arms. The shit-eating grin on your face is enough to make Levi sigh.

"See? I told you he likes me better." You poke your tongue out in triumph. You wave your hands and the god watches how you place three daffodil wreaths on each of Cerberus' heads. "Much better!"

"Y/N, he looks silly."

"No, he looks adorable! Here, I made you one, too."

Levi takes the flower crown and inspects it, careful not to crumble the petals.

"What is this?" He asks, marvelling at the beauty of the ice-blue colour of the plant.

"Uh, a flower crown?"

"Yeah, no shit. I meant what flower is this?"

"Oh, it's a blue poppy. One of the rarest plants in the world." You smile. "I think it suits you."

"You're an oddball."

You sit in a lavish chair, all kinds of foods displayed on the table in front of you. Saliva pools in your mouth, but you decide to wait for Levi anyway. It's bad manners to start eating without the host, Demeter taught you that. Gods and goddess don't eat mortal foods, but sometimes they indulge in it, and tonight was one of those nights.

"Here, try this." Levi offers you a strange fruit, something humans have on earth, but different.

"What is it?" You poke your finger at the juicy fruit, sucking the sweetness from your digit.

"It's a pomegranate that only grows in the Underworld."

You pick at the seeds, popping one in your mouth. You couldn't believe something so good could grow in a cold place like this.

"So, what's the occasion?" You ask Levi as you eat three more seeds, the crimson juice staining your lips.

"Our wedding."

You accidentally swallow, choking on saliva and the pomegranate seeds, your fist hammering your chest as you gasp for air.

"What?"

"I told Zeus I'm marrying you and now he wants proof." Levi bluntly states, a chalice of nectar in his hand.

"No."

"You don't have a choice, unfortunately."

"But… I'm supposed to be a virgin. Marriage implies consumption of it." You slam your fists on the table. "My mother-"

"Your mother lied to you. You're a goddess of fertility for fuck's sake." He shrugs and you're shocked by how chilling his voice sounds. Sure, Levi was always brooding and silent, but now he was just inconsiderate. "However, I'm not a man who breaks his promises. I told you I won't do anything you don't want me to."

"Oh, how niceof you. I'm leaving." You stand up, pushing the chair away.

"And go where? Demeter can't protect you forever, and you don't stand a chance against Zeus."

"You know why I hate my name so much, Levi?" You growl, fingernails digging into the wooden table.

"Do, tell."

"Because it means destruction. A fitting name for a goddess of ‘fertility’, don't you think?" The table splits open and all the plates fall to the ground. Your normal, bubbly aura changes suddenly and there's a hint of red in your Y/E/C eyes. "You think I don't stand a chance against Zeus? I'm his offspring." You snap, and instead of flowers falling out of your hair, there's thorns, spikes and rusty leaves all over the place. The uglies, most poisonous plants sprout from the ground and you're no longer the goddess of spring, but the bringer of slaughter, and Levi is impressed. Now he really knows it was faith that brought you together, he knows your place is with him — with the dead.

"Marry me." He says, unmoved by your little show. Unmoved on the outside, because on the inside he wants to bend you over and fuck you silly. His words shouldfuel your rage, but you're too surprised by the fact that he still wants to marry you, despite your outburst.

"Why? Because Zeus wants that?" Vines protrude from your skin and your fingernails turn black. You were completely different than the helpless little girl he rescued that night. You were terrifying. But not to Levi — to him you were fascinating.

"Because I want that."

It was safe to say you had fallen in love with Levi in those nine months since you came to the Underworld. He accepted you the way you were, he accepted your darkness, something not even your mother could do, and that's what triggered your feelings for the god of the dead. You still didn't allow him to call you Persephone, because you still hadn't fully embraced that part of you. Spring was almost due, but you promised Levi you'd go to earth after your wedding. Everyone would be there, including Demeter, which you haven't seen in a long time.

A soft knock interrupts your thoughts.

"Y/N, are you ready?"

"In a second, Hanji!"

"Oh, thank the gods for calling me that. I keep telling everyone I'm tired of Hecate but they don't care." The witch scoffs from the other side of the door.

"Has my mother arrived?" You ask, concern visible in your voice.

"Yes. And she's not happy."

"Hey," you open the door, "thanks for taking the blame and explaining things to her." You hug the goddess and she holds you tight.

"Don't worry about it, kid. It's me who should thank you. I don't know what you did to Levi, but he seems happier. He won't show it because he's a prick, but I can feel it."

You flash Hanji a genuine smile and ask her to fix your veil, to which she gladly accepts before escorting you to the castle grounds. Your mother should do this, but she hated her future groom, or your father, but he was a sick man who only decided to leave you alone because he respected Levi.

Every god and goddess of Olympus is here, even your uncle Poseidon. You emerge from the castle, arm looped around Hanji's and you smirk at Levi's shock. He never thought you could be more beautiful, yet here you are, dressed in silk, flowers on your hand and a thin veil clinging from the peony crown on your head. You catch a glimpse of Demeter before drifting your eyes to your future husband.

"Ladies and gentlemen, gods and goddesses, we have gathered here today to witness and bless the union between Levi, god of the Underworld, and Y/N, goddess of spring." Hanji proudly declares. The ceremony doesn't last too long, and when Levi's lips crush yours in what is your first kiss, thousands upon thousands of plants sprout from the soil, colourful flowers blooming and letting out the sweetest smells known to mankind. Love, he thinks, that's what love smells like.

You're tired from the party, tired from all the talking and mingling, tired from your mother's lecture, and tired from avoiding your father. At least Hera was nice enough to wish you a happy marriage. You pace around your bedroom, sitting on the bed, then standing up again. Levi went to his chamber after the party, but you were expecting, no, you wanted to consume the marriage. You walk to his room, a toga lazily draped over your shoulders, and open the door without a single knock. He's in bed, the only light source being the colourful souls levitating outside his windows. You carefully push the covers and climb into the bed, gently scooching closer to him.

"Psst, husband, are you sleeping?" You poke his shoulder.

"Tch, not anymore." He sighs, not bothering to open his eyes and look at you. "What do you want?"

"Well, I'm glad you asked! Seeing as we're married now, I thought it's only natural for a wife to sleep with her husband." You roll on your side, propping yourself on your elbow. Tentatively, you tug on the fabric of the toga, exposing your shoulders and part of your breasts.

"So sleep." Levi finally lolls his head to the side, facing you. He did not expect to see you sprawled on his bed like that, in a lewd position and a playful smile on your soft lips. "You don't have to do this just because we're married.

"I'm doing it because I want to. And I know you want it, too, Levi." You purr, your fingers grazing over your collarbone.

"It's going to hurt." He warns you, but his hand is already on your thigh.

"I know. But you'll take good care of me, won't you?"

Levi has no idea which one of you is talking — Y/N, goddess of spring, or Y/N, goddess of destruction — and frankly he doesn't even care at this point. As long as he has your approval, he knows he can do whatever he wants. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, obviously inexperienced, but he likes it that way. He likes that you have no idea what you're doing because he can be in control. His hand runs up and down your thigh and you can feel heat building in your core.

"Tingles..." You mumble in his lips with a hazy smile.

"Have you ever touched yourself?" Levi pulls away and you nod. "Show me."

You feel embarrassed and small, but obey nonetheless. Your hand travels between your legs and your fingers touch your already swollen clit, rubbing it in circular motions. Levi watches you with hungry eyes, wanting very hard to abstain, but he can't, and so he takes your nipple in his hot mouth. You whimper at the new sensation, electricity shooting through your body as he snakes a hand between your thighs, two fingers diving into your cunt.

"Ah! L-Levi! So big!" You mewl and he throws his head back, releasing your poor nipple.

"That's nothing compared to what you'll get, you needy brat." He curls his fingers, hitting that sweet spot, and you buck your hips. Despite being a virgin, your body naturally knows what to do. Your spongy walls clench around his digits and Levi can already feel how tight you'll be around his cock. "You're so wet."

"Is t-that a good thing?" You're innocent and pure and you rock your hips back and forth, pathetic moans escaping your lips.

"Fuck, yes." Levi kisses you, and it's nothing like the kiss from your wedding. It's desperate and greedy, and he wants you all to himself. The pace quickens, he's pumping his fingers in and out of you faster and you don't know what to do, so you keep rubbing your clit and the familiar heat of your orgasm flushes through your body. You come undone on his hand, the sinful, squelching sound echoing in the bedroom.

"It didn't hurt at all!" You look at your husband, but there's a hint of mischief in your voice, a playful glisten in your eyes. Levi clicks his tongue, because the worst — and best — is yet to come, and you know it — you're no saint.

"Come here." Levi orders and yanks you by the hair, his aggressive gesture sending a shiver down your spine and into your cunt. "Be a good girl and open that pretty mouth for me."

You obey and part your luscious lips and then you see his cock for the first time — thick and veiny, it slaps your face as it pops out of his undergarments, the tip grazing over your cheeks.

"Levi that's... that's too big." You chew your lower lip and lean back.

"You'll be fine. You said it yourself, I'll take good care of you." He cups your face with one hand, thumb caressing your chin. "Now suck it. Make sure to use lots of spit."

You feel your cheeks hot and test the waters by giving the glistening tip a few licks, tongue swirling around it. It tastes salty, and you find yourself liking this. Levi pats your head, but you feel him tensing with each movement of your tongue.

"Shit." He curses under his breath and when you look up at him with doe eyes, his heart pounds into his chest. You courageously take the tip into your mouth, and with hollowed cheeks, you move further. "Yeah, just like that. Take it all."

Bobbing your head up and down, you try to take it all, but the girth and length is just too much, and tears pool at your eyes from the lack of air, but also from how good it feels to have a fat cock in your mouth. Muffled moans reverberate in your throat, and Levi can feel the vibrations tickling him. He firmly grabs your nape and holds your head in place.

"Trust me and relax, can you do that for me?"

You half-nod, anxious and somewhat excited for what is about to happen. Your husband rocks his hips back and forth slowly before aggressively fucking your poor throat, and you feel the arousal building in your core again. So much for promising your mother you'd always stay a virgin. You want to touch yourself again, but Levi slaps your hand away and thrusts into your mouth, holding your head still until you choke, your fingernails digging into his arm. The god pulls out and you gasp for air, and he almost feels sorry when he sees your pathetic state.

"A-again!" You flash him your pearls in a sultry smile, spit dripping down your chin. Who knew you liked asphyxiation?

"Needy brat."

"Please!"

"Tch, later. Right now, I want to fuck you." Levi growls and he already has you pinned on the bed, arms above your head and legs spread open for him. His cock presses against your slick slit and you brace yourself for the incoming pain. "If you want me to stop, tell me."

You don't have the time to nod when you feel a burning sensation between your legs. Squeezing your eyes shut, you bury the back of your head into the pillow and grip the sheets so tight your knuckles begin to lose their colour. Levi slowly pushes further, another inch buried in your cunt, and you bite on your lower lip. But you don't tell him to stop, instead your spongy walls clench around his cock and another inch gets lost in you.

You never thought gods could feel such immense pain, yet here you are, with a bloody lip from digging your teeth into it and a sore pussy. But the worst thing faded bit by bit when Levi bottomed out into your cunt. The two of you sit still, your husband allowing you to get used to his girth.

"Do you think I bled?" You ask, eyes filled with tears.

"Probably, but I promise it will never hurt like this from now on." He comforts you before licking the blood from your lips. The gesture makes your cunt flutter and Levi takes it as a sign to go on. Slowly, he rocks his hips back and forth, and the molten pain is replaced by tingles and arousal.

"You good?"

"Y-yes, oh, f- yes!"

"You can say fuck, you know?" Levi thrusts once, and it's so deep you feel his cock brush over your cervix.

"Fuck!" You cry out, legs wrapping around his waist to make sure he doesn't pull out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Good girl."

There's no more room for gentle touches and soothing words when your husband fucks you raw. Your hips buck against his to feel that sweet pressure you never knew you longed for. In and out, his cock makes you feel sore and hazy, and you want more. The sound of his balls slapping your ass makes your mouth water and your eyes glossy, and Levi feels selfish. He pulls out, turns you over and takes you from behind, like a rabid dog fucking a bitch in heat. And you are in heat — you love the way his thrusts make you feel dumb, the way his cock stretches you, the way he uses and abuses your tight little cunt. Everything is so new to you and you adore every bit of it.

"Shit, I'm close." Levi warns you, his fingers digging into your hips, and you want to be good for him, so you drag your hand between your thighs and rub your swollen clit in frantic motions.

"L-Leeevi! I think I'm-"

"Fuck!"

When you feel a hot liquid shooting into you, your legs begin to tremble and you come on his cock, head falling onto the pillow with a heavy sigh. He pulls out and you already miss the feeling of being full, your juices mixed with his own dripping down out of you, down your thigh. You curl up next to your husband, hand holding his arm before you drift to sleep.

A sweet smell fills Levi's nostrils and when he looks at your tired body, there’s flowers in your messy hair. He still can't get used to the way your divine, disorganised powers work, but at least now he knows what's been missing from his life, and the corners of his mouth slightly twist upwards into a genuine smile. The god of the dead, in love with and married to the goddess of spring. Order and chaos blending together in one beautiful, perfectly arranged mess.

It’s fate. It must be fate that brought you together — but it’s love that will keep you together.

tagging @starrynightlys @stolemyheart12

[yelenasdog]

moving out, moving on (mitch rapp x fem reader)

genre: fluff

summary: mitch and reader are taking another step towards mitch moving on, and it’s bittersweet.

words: 2.2k

warnings: drinking wine, kinda suggestive at times, talks abt katrina, mitch being emotional, my writing being melodramatic LOL

a/n: so. this was written during an all nighter that went to 7 am where i was listening to nicki minaj and eminem (???) for a good duration of it so. i’m very sorry if this is wonky at times! i hope u enjoy either way! mwah 

🥍🥍🥍

The early morning rays streamed through thin fabric, draped above the assassin's window. Dust particles floated about, becoming visible within the section of light cast from the sun. The birds perched outside the small apartment tweeted happily from their branch, their songs beautiful. 

Though, they were quite pesterous to the pair that lay together, wrapped in gray sheets. They reveled in the heat provided by the soft blanket, but even more so by the warmth from their joint bodies.

A mop of dark brown hair stirred, bringing one hand up to softly rub his eyes with his knuckle, the other hand snaking around the waist of the woman peacefully sleeping beside him. He watched with fond eyes as she lightly groaned, rolling to face away from the invasion of bright, turning towards her love. 

Mitch smiled down at her sleepy behavior, reaching out and brushing stray hairs from her forehead. He reluctantly retracted it only moments later, forcing himself out of bed to go and prepare the two of them for their big day as best he knew how: Coffee.

His sock clad feet dragged across the hardwood as he went, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and groggy-ness (a word Y/n had donned as her own, and Mitch had caught on to) still very prevalent in his entire system. 

The Rhode Island air was frigid this time of year, Mitch allowing a grin to break out on his face upon remembrance of two nights previous, just how cold Y/n had been in the arena of the Providence Bruins hockey team. Nose pink, donned in a beanie proudly showing the team's logo, well, he had found himself a new lockscreen.

He shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of said groggy-ness, his body on autopilot as it made the beverages. He picked out her favorite mug from the cupboard (AKA a souvenir from Dubai he had picked up long ago) that she had adopted as her own, drinking out of it every time she would spend the night, almost like clockwork. He waited for his coffee beans to brew, scratching his stubble along his jaw. He flinched, though, when he felt two arms wrap around his middle. He quickly relaxed into the embrace upon realization of who the supposed assailant was, her head finding its way to rest on his bare shoulder.

“You scared me, there.” Mitch muttered, his larger hand inching towards her’s on his waist. He closed his eyes in content and she hummed in acknowledgment. Mitch allowed her to turn his figure to face her, still residing in her arms, seeing a bright smile plastered across her face.

“Only for a minute though, right?”

She laughed to which he chuckled in response, nodding in false surrender. “You’ve got me there, Y/n/n.” He mused, his eyes lighting up at the sound of the coffee machine beeping. He looked back to her, shrugging.

“I made you coffee, was gonna bring it to you in bed but, y’know.” He gestured to where she had now climbed up to sit on top of his counter, his sweatshirt around her that read “Brown University” across the front in large lettering pooling around her thighs.

“It’s alright, I need to get a move on anyway.” She smiled, hopping down to retrieve the mug, taking the warm ceramic from Mitch’s hands and sighing at the wondrous feeling that had spread through her whole body. She lifted it to her lips and drank, not surprised that her boyfriend had made it just the way she liked, to perfection. 

“Thank you, baby.” She commented, reaching up to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. Her lip curled as she pulled away, Mitch already knowing what she was going to say, a laugh bubbling up in his throat.

“Mitch! Go brush your teeth, for the love of God!” She whined, watching as he scampered off towards the bathroom, snickering all the way. She rolled her eyes, downing the rest of her beverage before following where Mitch had gone.

Once in the bathroom after rinsing her and Mitch’s mugs, she tied her hair up, undressing and turning on the water (practically scalding hot, of course). Mitch had no objections to the temperature, though, seeing as it was his last time showering with her in that apartment, and in that apartment, period. 

The whole thing felt very symbolic to Y/n, at least, seeing it as washing themselves clean for the next phase of their lives together, a sort of preparation. (Maybe not so much for Mitch, who really was just pleased for any excuse to see his girlfriend naked.)

They used generous amounts of soap, as not only were most of them nearly empty (in fact, a few were and if it weren’t for Y/n, they probably all would be), but also that they had decided to simply just buy new toiletries as a whole for their new place.

They giggled at the sight of each other, all lathered in bubbles and suds. Mitch reached a finger forward, wiping it from above her eyebrows and preventing it from falling into her eyes. Y/n brought her arms around his neck, her lips connecting with his. “Much better.” She regarded with a smirk, before leaning back in.

Nearly 40 minutes later, they both emerged from the shower, fresh faced and ready for the day ahead. He didn’t have a lot that needed to be packed up, given that his place came fully furnished, so it took all but 2 hours and 5 boxes to pack up Mitch Rapp’s life. It honestly might have taken even longer than originally would have been needed, as Y/n would stop every time she found something interesting, allowing Mitch to tell her all about whatever stories had been connected to the item.

It had started with the ridiculous bird lamp that sat on his bedside table, once belonging to Mr. Nazir, and ended with his lacrosse stick. (And, a promise that one day, he’d show her how to play. He swore he’d never seen her smile that big.)

They also threw away and donated a lot, some of Kat’s old stuff bringing a pained smile to his face as he would place it in a box simply labeled “Kat” in messy, thick letters. He wasn’t sure if the box would end up in his new closet, covered in dust and unopened, or back with her family. But either way, he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to her completely, which Y/n was able to understand.

“Mitch? Did you pack away your coats already?” Y/n called out, opening up the closet near the front door. Her breath slightly hitched in her throat upon seeing all of the photos of Mansur, still pasted to the painted wood, the edges curling up. 

“Nah, not yet, I was gonna handle that while you worked on the cupboards” He responded, busying himself with a text from Irene on his phone wishing him good luck. He looked up and saw what she had been asking about, his phone quickly sliding into his pocket as he made his way over to where she stood, visibly distressed. 

“How long have these been here?” She questioned, feeling Mitch’s arms wrap around her shoulders. She brought her hands up to grasp onto his wrists, leaning backwards into him and biting into her lip.

“Since the beach, when I decided to go after Mansur. When everything happened with the CIA, it was kind of a whirlwind, I didn’t really have enough time to even think about taking it down when I was only even here for hours at a time.” He lightly chuckled, watching as she stepped forward and began to take the pictures down, crumbling them up in her hands. 

She ran her fingertips over the indents left in the door, feeling the splinters against them. She turned back to Mitch, quipping how “Mr. Nazir won’t be too pleased about that.” 

He smiled, joining her in taking all of the images down, ripping them or balling them up in his fists. All of them ended up in one of the old Target bags they had been using for trash, filling up an entire bag (minus a few Dunkin cups sitting at the bottom).

Mitch trailed a few tender kisses down the left side of her next, and though it sounds cheesy, a feeling of hopefulness flooded himself out of most of the bitterness that had been stuck inside for so long. 

She turned her head to catch his lips with her own, and smiled into the kiss, her hand finding the back of his head. She lightly tugged on the chocolate colored strands and he groaned in content, to which her grin only widened. She pulled back, ruffling the top of his head before beginning to pack away the remnants of what was left in the closet. He rolled his eyes, following suit.

They had piled all of the boxes into the back of Mitch’s old decommissioned CIA vehicle (which was obvious that is was such, given that the side was littered with bullet holes and metallic scratches), returned the key to Mr. Nazir (who was glad to see Mitch go), and with that, they were off.

The new place wasn’t too far away, the pair taking a page out of Stan’s book and opting for a wonderful sense of privacy. It was nestled in a rural corner of Massachusetts, where Mitch would be able to come home to a sense of serenity. Y/n had already moved in her possessions, Mitch’s items being the last step. They’d also furnished the cozy cabin, trips to IKEA and Urban Outfitters (along with several other over-priced boutiques) making the place feel like a perfect fit for the couple.

Mitch’s strange and varied knick knacks made the house feel like a home, his lacrosse stick finding a new home by the front door, right under a hanging potted plant that Y/n and Mitch had decided to affectionately name “Charles” after a drunken night watching the X-Men movies. The house was littered in plants such as Charles, in fact, with Mitch’s first response to seeing all of them being “Wow, looks like a greenhouse in here.”

(Still, he’d grown to love the plant babies. Trust me.)

Two tired smiles made their ways to their faces as they both sat on their new sofa, admiring a job well done. Though several boxes still lay on the hardwood, unopened, they felt accomplished enough to pull out a bottle of wine that they had been saving for the occasion. It was an early housewarming gift from Stan, to which they were unprepared to take advantage of, it seemed.

“Baby, did we unpack the wine glasses earlier?” Mitch questioned, his mind slightly foggy of the day's events and early start.

“No, I think they’re still packed up.” She replied, to which Mitch’s eyes lit up, an idea forming and an imaginary lightbulb popping up over his head. He got up from his seat, a wide smile spreading across his face. Her expression mirrored his own, with an added quirked brow at his antics.

“I’ve got a solution, wait here.” Mitch responded, padding over to where he had remembered the new home of the mugs to be. Upon realization of what he was doing, Y/n smiled, rolling her eyes and bringing a hand up to run through her roots.

He shuffled back over moments later, his girlfriend recognizing one of the mugs in his hands as her favorite. He sat down next to her, with the bare skin of her thighs touching his own, jean clad. He bumped his knee to hers with a giggle, pouring out the Pinot Grigio into the mugs. 

She gratefully accepted it as it was handed to her, smiling as she took a sip. Mitch did the same, the two of them leaning back into the soft sofa. Y/n brought her legs up, cuddling into his side and absorbing his warmth. He brought his free hand to her side, a strong hold giving them both a strong sense of comfort as she lay her head on his shoulder.

The box labeled “Kat” remained unpacked along with the others on the floor, dust already beginning to gather. Mitch had come across it a few times that day, each time more thoughtful than the last as he struggled to decide what it was exactly he was feeling towards the objects; or perhaps towards the memory of Katrina.

He had come to realize that it was acceptance he felt, deep in his stomach, settling down. It had been brought upon him in totality over time, today’s events being the final step. A soft smile spread across Mitch’s face, a single tear falling from his eye. Y/n looked up, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Mitch, are you alright?”

He leaned down, connecting their lips in a watery yet nectarous kiss, his hand beginning to rub small circles on her shoulder. 

“Yeah, Y/n/n.” 

The fire they had built earlier was roaring, now, casting a warm glow across the pair’s features. The damp trail down his cheek was highlighted, nearly glistening on his skin like an amber. 

“I’m doin’ just fine.”

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ok btw ik that wine in mugs would be a horrible idea but this is fiction so SHUSH

anyway i hope yall enjoyed! i love writing for mitch and i have lots of future fics for him, so if u liked this, please reblog and follow if ya wanna. mwah, go drink water and have some protein <333

 xx hj

[clareguilty]

Coal Fires and Snowstorms

This was a request fic that was originally for the Overwatch cowboy but I changed to Arthur Morgan for... apparent reasons Arthur Morgan/F!Reader (reader also has big enby vibes) Rating: Mature | No Warnings Word Count: ~2,200

Arthur wakes with a wheeze, bolting upright and smacking his chest with his fist as he tries to pull in enough air.

He’s shirtless, but a woven blanket had been draped over him while he was unconscious. A ray of light cuts through a grimy window. The angle is harsh enough that it’s probably late in the evening.

The last thing Arthur can remember is the dark of the night and the clamoring of the law on his heels. So he’s been out for at least a day.

His lips are dry and cracked, and his muscles groan in protest with every movement. God, his head is pounding like he was hit by a damn train.

A door creaks open, and there’s a squeak of surprise. “Oh! You’re awake!”

Arthur blinks in the harsh sunlight that’s streaming into the small cabin. Whoever is there is bundled up in furs and a jacket with a bow over their shoulder. They’ve got two armfuls of game practically swallowing them.

“Who are you? Where am I?” He means for it to sound rough and demanding, but it’s more croaky and pathetic when the words pass his lips.

“I’m not really anybody, and this is my cabin up in Cumberland. The law chased you a long ways from Annesburg didn’t they? You must have done something real bad.” The hunter dumps all the game onto the table and rushes to the bedroll where Arthur lays. “You aren’t hurt too bad or nothing, but you’ve got a real nasty cough. I’ve got tea and herbs that should help. I bandaged up all the bleeding bits as best I could”

Arthur is bewildered. He knows there had been a fire in Annesburg -- the coal had gone up in a pyre in seconds. Somehow, he had gotten separated from Dutch and the others. The smoke had taken him like crows to a carcass, and he was lucky to make it across the ridge with the way his eyes and lungs were burning.

The last thing he remembered was the pinkertons still on his heels and the darkness of the trees as he tried to hide in the brush. He must have made it to cover before the smoke and the soot finally got him.

He flinches as the hunter sticks an open flask under his nose. “Tea. It’s bitter but you’ll need it.”

Arthur sniffs the mouth of the flask, but it sure does just smell like weeds and water. He takes a sip and wrinkles his nose. But the flavor is a small price to pay for the way the liquid soothes the burning in his mouth and throat.

“Thank you,” he says. “You could have left me in those woods to rot. I appreciate you dragging my sorry ass back here.”

You grin and pat the bandage on his arm. “It weren’t much trouble, but you sure are one large fella.” Arthur thinks you must be a young boy -- it’s hard to tell. Your hair is short under your cap but your voice isn’t all that low.

You turn to the game on the table and grab a knife from your belt. “I hunted enough for the both of us the next few days. It’s gonna be a while before you’ve got your strength back, and a snowstorm is rolling in off the Grizzlies anyways.”

Arthur frowns. “Bit early for snow, isn’t it?”

You shrug. “Winter never listens to me. At least the game was out. Everyone is trying to feed as much as they can before it gets too cold to hunt. That includes us.”

Arthur grunts and struggles to his feet. “I can help with those,” he offers.

You watch him with narrowed eyes, obviously skeptical of Arthur’s strength. “Take the small ones,” you offer up the rabbits and squirrels.

Arthur usually doesn’t have a problem skinning game, but the smoke must have gotten to him more than he thought because he finds himself having to take a rest after just a few minutes. He finishes off the flask of tea and sorts through his pack and weapons.

“My horse…” he asks after a while.

“She’s fine,” you say. “I found her not far from where you were unconscious and she helped me get you back here. She’s out back with my Old Girl.”

“Thank you,” Arthur sounds genuinely touched. “She really means a lot to me.”

You shoot him another smile. “You’re nothing but a big softie, ain’t ya? What could you have done to have the law chasing you all the way across the damn country?”

Arthur rubs the back of his neck, flushing in embarrassment. “My folks might have blown up Annesburg? I don’t actually know how much of it is left…”

“Ha!” you bark. “You’re with them van der Linde folks?”

Arthur’s silence is answer enough.

“I won’t judge,” you shrug. “You’re safe as long as you want to rest here.”

And rest Arthur does. He’s confined to the bedroll, rolled out on a warm pile of furs near the stove. You’re good company, witty and friendly and far too nosy for your own good. Arthur learns that you’ve has been living in these parts for a few years now, trapping and hunting and crafting to sell in town every few weeks. It’s more of a living than Arthur could ever ask for. Arthur thinks he might be sweet on you.

It’s another day before he’s got the strength to walk. He makes it outside to his horse, glad to see that she’s well taken care of. You had said you were going off to bathe in a nearby stream, and Arthur follows the sound of the water.

He’s not expecting what he finds. The water is shallow but fast moving, and he sees a familiar jacket hung on a branch by the bank.

You’re turned away, rinsing in the ice cold water, and Arthur can see the gooseflesh on your skin.

But when you turn slightly, it’s the swell of breasts and the curve of hips that catches Arthur’s attention. He averts his eyes quickly, darting back towards the cabin with his cheeks stained pink.

Now that he thinks about it, you had never said that you were a man. Arthur had simply figured it was most likely. The soft voice and gentle features make more sense now.

“You had better wash up if you want to,” you say when you return to the cabin. “The snow is coming in tonight. I can smell it. I stocked up on herbs for your cough and we’ve got plenty of provisions. I’m gonna split some more wood to bring inside.”

Arthur can’t help but find it attractive that you’re so knowledgeable and well prepared. He makes his way to the stream on his own and washes up in the frigid water, pushing through another coughing fit when the cold makes his muscles seize.

It’s already getting colder when he gets back inside. His weak breath fogs even inside the cabin and the little stove can’t do nearly enough to warm the small space.

“You’re going to freeze,” he tells you. He’s big enough to handle the cold -- spent a damn month up in the grizzlies without much of a problem -- but you surely won’t last the snowstorm.

“I’ve made it before,” you say with a huff and a glare. “I’ve got plenty of furs to keep me warm.”

“Put your bedroll beside mine,” Arthur insists. “We can share the blankets.”

The snow begins to fall, sticking to the ground in wet clumps, and you brace yourselves for the days to come. You’re practically strangers -- save for the fact that you had dragged Arthur out of the woods and saved his life. Now you have no choice but to rely on each other until the snow melts.

Arthur wakes in the night to your violent shivering under the blankets. He pulls you so that you’re pressed against his chest, tucking both of you under the quilts closer together. “I thought you said you’d made it through this before?”

You huff, teeth chattering. “I survived. I never said I kept warm.”

“Stay close to me. It’s my turn to keep you alive.” He drifts back to sleep to the howl of the winter winds.

The next morning he’s greeted by a bowl of piping stew that makes his sinuses burn. “I had some jarred peppers I keep for weather just like this. You’re in no condition for liquor so this is the best you’re gonna get.”

Arthur accepts the stew graciously. He’s not ready for the way you stand on your tippy toes to kiss him on the cheek when he offers to wash both of the bowls.

You pass the time snowed in with several rounds of cards. Arthur tells stories about him and the gang until his throat aches and he starts coughing again, and so the you regale Arthur with your life’s tale and a few stories you picked up over the years. You’re curled up next to each other in front of the stove, and you have no shame about burrowing against Arthur in a quest for body heat. He lets you steal as much as you want.

“I thought you were a boy when I first woke up,” Arthur says.

You shrug. “Most people do. I find it makes things easier a lot of the time. How’d you figure me out?” You don’t seem to feel too strongly one way or another about how Arthur and others see you.

Arthur hides his embarrassment behind a cough. “I, uh, caught you washing up in the stream.”

“Oh,” you laugh, “that’s pretty solid proof, ain’t it.” You’re smiling, not shy at all. “You’re not mad at me for lying, are you?”

“You never lied,” Arthur says. “I just came to my own conclusions. Doesn’t matter much to me anyways, whether you’re a man or a woman.”

You frown at that. “Doesn’t matter?”

“Nah,” Arthur ruffles your short hair. “You’re cute either way.”

It’s the right thing to say. The frown disappears and you settle back against him, humming contentedly.

He wakes in the night to the feeling of your breath on his neck. You shift and your lips brush against his skin. He can’t help the way his whole body tenses at the sensation. His arm is draped around your waist, holding you close because he knows you’ll freeze if he doesn’t.

He pulls you in closer. Every inch where your skin touches his feels oversensitive and hot. You’re still asleep -- he can tell from how slow you breath against his skin, but you reach an arm around his neck and burrow against him.

His heart begins to race. He’s flushed and half asleep and you fit against him so well in this tiny cabin that you’ve made your home. One of his hands slides down your back. You moan as his palm passes over the small of your back and the curve of your ass. His hand comes to the back of your thigh, but you shift again and rock your hips against him.

He gasps, then has to fight back a cough. He doesn’t want to wake you, but your quest for warmth has you plastered against him in a very compromising position. It’s starting to make his long johns downright painful, and he thinks he’ll combust in shame.

You rock against him once more, mumbling sleepily into his skin.

“Darlin’” he croaks. But the sound doesn’t wake you. He tries to wriggle an arm between you so he can push you off, but instead he winds up with a handful of your breast, and the most gorgeous sound he’s ever heard escapes your lips.

He freezes. He’s painfully hard now, and you’re still gently rocking against him in your sleep, perhaps even more so now that he’s got a hand on your chest.

“Arthur, please,” you whine.

He’s pretty sure you’re awake by now, so he readjusts his hand and rubs his thumb over the peak of your nipple. You let out another breathy moan against his skin. This time when he runs a hand over your ass he lets himself take a moment to appreciate how it feels under his palm, they way his fingers sink into the soft skin beneath your winter sleep clothes. He once again places his hand on the back of your thigh and pulls you so that your hips are lined up with his, straddling him under the blankets.

You whine against him once more and grind your hips downward. The friction does way more for him than he imagines it must for you, and his vision whites out momentarily at the heat and weight of you against him.

He loses himself in the motion of your hips for several long moments, but then your whines grow frustrated and unsatisfied and he knows exactly what your after.

Gripping both of your hips tightly, he flips you both so that you’re laying back on the bedroll and he’s kneeling over you.

Your eyes fly open.

“Arthur?”

“You were asleep?” he looks absolutely bewildered.

“I thought so? I was having the best dream.” Your eyes look past him as you remember.

“I don’t think you were dreaming, sweetheart,” he chuckles. He leans in to place an open mouthed kiss against your neck. You gasp and dig your nails into his shoulder.

“Then I think you had better keep going, cowboy.”

[nostalgiabones]

Simple Sunday Afternoons // CH

This is just a random thing I wrote one day after talking to @calumrose as always lmao. I didn’t intend to post it but I think it’s a just a nice soft Sunday so, I thought I would! I also just wanted to make the point that the little moodboards I’ve made aren’t representative of what any of the ‘characters’ look like — they just represent the concept of the blurb! Let me know what you think, and as always, reblogs and feedback is so appreciated! ❤️

Word count: 4.2k

“Good morning,”

A warm smile rises on Calum’s lips at the words as he flips a pancake in a pan, clad in only his grey joggers and a messy mop of curls upon his head, along with the glasses he’s taken to wearing more often recently. He doesn’t hear the giggles or yawns of your daughter, just some of her usual sounds in the morning, and assumes you’re entering the kitchen alone without her.

He doesn’t have a chance to turn around and check before you’re wrapping your arms around his waist — his warm skin soothing against your own. It’s not often you get little moments alone like this — not without a baby in between the two of you, either resting in his arms or your own. Not that it’s anything to complain about; the two of you love Mara more than life itself. You just miss getting to hold Calum for a little longer in the mornings.

“Yes, it is,” Calum replies, taking one of your hands in his own, lifting it to his face and brushing his lips over your knuckles. “Where’s the little one?”

You rest your cheek against him, just wanting to be close, wanting your skin on his. “I just put her down for an early nap, she was kinda fussy. I think her teeth are coming in.”

He nods, pouting at the thought of his sweet daughter being in pain.

“We’ll have to keep an eye on her,” He states, and you nod in agreement. “She’s probably going to be asleep a while, isn’t she? Do you want to go back to bed?”

You take a sip of coffee from the mug on the counter, not caring whether it was his or one he made for you. Everything he has is yours, and vice versa — even something as insignificant as coffee. He feels the same way about your heart.

“We finally have some time together, I don’t want to waste it sleeping,” You murmur, your palm sliding down his back, the gesture familiar and soothing to him. Goosebumps break out over his skin.

“Okay, well..” He turns down the heat on the stove, moving the hot pan to a cold ring in order not to burn himself when he gets distracted by you. He spins around, a hand landing on either side of your hip, his nose brushing yours as he leans in. “I could just stand here...” he interrupts himself by brushing his lips against yours. “And kiss you instead.”

You sigh against his lips and bask in the moment, one that is so rare nowadays. He notices you pout and he chuckles — his warm palms landing on the small of your back.

“What’s up with you, pouty?” He asks, keeping your face close, his eyes searching your face.

“I miss kissing you,” You whine, and he can’t help but kiss you again with the way you’re looking at him. You think back to Sunday’s before Mara — it feels like a different lifetime, but it wasn’t so long ago. Now days are filled with tears, smiles, happy baby giggles and messy meal times — but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if the only time you got to be close to Calum was at bedtime, once Mara had gone down.

“You can kiss me whenever you want, baby,” He replies, his pointer finger brushing up your cheek as he furrows his eyebrows at you.

“I know, but we don’t get time anymore,” You remind him, and he nods. You know you both need to make more of a conscious effort to spend quality time with each other — instead of trying to clean the whole house whilst Mara is napping. “It’s nice to be close to you like this.”

“Maybe Mara should grow some teeth more often.” He jokes, and you slap his chest playfully as he laughs.

“Don’t say that! She’s in pain,” You scold him, your hands pressed against his chest as he holds you close. “You won’t be saying that when she wakes up in a bad mood and won’t sleep tonight.”

He knows you’re right. As much as he jokes, there’s nothing he hates more than seeing his sweet girl in pain — whether it’s her teeth or anything else.

“Touché.” He smiles, kissing you once more. “Do you want to eat? I made pancakes.”

“But that means we have to stop kissing,” You sigh, and he can’t help but laugh at you once more. Calum brushes his lips against yours, his hands rubbing up and down the tops of your arms as you stand there. There’s something about seeing you in one of his t-shirts that goes straight to his heart every single time — even after being married for several years.

“Come on, pouty. Let’s have one meal uninterrupted before we have to deal with a grumpy Mara.”

***

“Cal, I need to get up,”

The sounds of Mara’s cries fill your ears as you gently push on Calum’s shoulders; trying to get him to move from where he’s fallen asleep on your lap so you can get up to get her. The two of you decided to watch a movie (or as much as you can get away with) whilst Mara slept, yet less than halfway through, Calum had fallen asleep with his face pressed against your chest.

“Mara is crying,” You murmur, brushing your fingers through his hair to rouse him a little more as he wakes up. “I need to go get her.”

He shifts in your lap and leans on one arm so you can get up, almost face planting the sofa once you stand up and he’s left there alone. He yawns and listens to the soothing words slipping from your lips as you approach Mara’s bedroom, already knowing you’ll be met with her sad eyes and messy hair. Her cries slow down but your voice gets louder as you head back to the lounge, and he sits up so he can take her.

“Look who it is,” You kiss Mara’s temple as you carry her through to where Calum is, her tired eyes lighting up as she spots her dad. Her skin is warm and flushed from sleep, much like Calum’s — the similarity between your husband and daughter when they’ve both woken up makes your heart melt.

“Hi, honey,” Calum greets her, reaching out for her from his spot on the sofa as he wakes up a little more. She yawns and her lips curl into a small smile as you set her down in his lap, a hand coming to hold either side of her as he gets her. You sit down next to them, unable to stop yourself from smiling at their matching puffy eyes and flushed cheeks. “How was your nap, hey? Are those naughty teeth still hurting you?”

He gets an answer through her gestures — as he speaks, she presses her lips to his shoulder, like she was trying to find some relief for her angry gums. “Oh, my poor girl. Shall we get you something that’ll help, hey? I think some yoghurt might work better than my shoulder, little one.”

Calum stands up from the sofa with a dramatic groan as he lifts her, kissing her forehead as she whines in his arms, rubbing at her heavy eyes with little fists. He opens the fridge as he hums under his breath, picking out her favourite apricot yoghurt and a spoon in the hopes of soothing her mouth.

“Why don’t we go for a walk to the park in a bit?” You ask, watching as Calum sets Mara down in her high chair. He pulls up a chair in front of her so he can feed her - knowing he’s about to get as messy as she usually does. “It’s a nice day out, and we can walk Duke at the same time.”

Calum nods, coaxing Mara to open her mouth as he feeds her. “That’s a good idea. Although I think we’re gonna need a bath after this.”

“We?”

“Do you see how much yoghurt is on her hands?” He laughs, leaning forward to kiss Mara’s forehead. In the process, she reaches out for him, the sticky, dairy snack landing on his own skin. “I think there’s more on her than in her mouth.”

He’s right, she’s messy, but looks significantly less uncomfortable than she did when waking up — so it’s worth it.

***

“Watch her eyes whilst I wash her hair, Cal,”

Calum steps out of the stream of the shower so you can rinse Mara’s hair, after lathering a sweet smelling shampoo through her curls. Breakfast had been a messy affair, and in an effort to save both time and water, you decided to have a family shower together.

He cups his hand over her forehead as you gently rinse the shampoo away, your fingertips smoothing over her scalp as content noises slip from her lips. The smile on her face tells you how happy she is to have your joint attention; loving nothing more than being inbetween the two of you.

“What does she find so funny about showering?” Calum asks, laughing himself as he holds Mara, lips brushing her wet cheeks as she giggles. He grabs the sponge to clean under her chin, making sure all of the yoghurt is gone, the familiar smell of her lavender body wash a comforting one. She tries to reach for the sponge as he does — her eyes fixated on the purple object.

“I don’t know, actually.” You reply, watching her eyes follow you as you move to wash Calum’s hair, too, noticing how much the blonde has grown out and his roots have come through. “We need to swap places again.”

“We should let Mara shower with us everyday if it means you washing my hair,” He suggests, met with a playful eye roll from you. Showering together was something he’d do everyday if he could — it’s one of his favourite intimate moments with you, a wonderful way to start his day. It’s more difficult to find time for it with Mara now though.

“I don’t know why you’re acting like I don’t do it even when your hands are free,” You reply and he laughs, knowing you’re right. Having his hair played with whether you’re washing it or just running your fingers through it is one of his favourite things, especially now it’s longer — a way to instantly make him relax. “You’re just using Mara as an excuse today, isn’t he, honey? He’s using you to make me wash his hair.”

She giggles and gives you a sweet wide mouthed smile, one that you wish you could freeze in time and see forever. One that soon will be accompanied by the teeth that are causing her so much pain.

“She doesn’t mind,” He pouts as he looks at her, lips brushing over her forehead as she smiles. She follows your lead and reaches up to put her own little hands into his hair, tiny fingers grabbing the curls in an attempt to help you. You laugh at her action, with a “are you trying to help mum, sweetheart?”

Calum grimaces but can’t help but laugh as he feels Mara tugging at his hair, knowing she’s trying to help, but isn’t quite as gentle as you are. “I think you need some lessons in hair washing, my love, it feels more like you’re trying to rip my hair out.”

It hurts, but her smile makes him ache in a completely different way.

***

“Is her pushchair in the garage?”

Calum grabs a teething ring from the fridge with his free hand as he nods, Mara occupying the other as she clings to his shoulder. It’s been a few hours since her morning nap and he knows she’s getting tired again; evident through her rubbing her eyes and her little whines. He knows she’ll fall asleep on the way to the park.

“Yeah, it’s near the back, behind the car.” He replies, kissing Mara’s forehead as she leans against his chest. She yawns and he rocks her in his arms, resting his cheek ontop of her head and holds her close. “Are you tired, little moon? That shower has made you sleepy, hey?”

His voice is a soft murmur as he talks to her; the tone one that is reserved for when he speaks to her. He’s so gentle and loving whenever he speaks to her and it makes your heart melt.

“Here we go,” You open the door and push her pram into the entrance to the house, unbuckling the straps so Calum can put her in. “Do you think she’s wrapped up enough? I don’t know if it’s as warm as it looks.”

Calum lifts her in his arms and pats her back, rocking her on the spot as he judges the weather. She’s comfy in a little t-shirt, hoodie and leggings, complete with baby old skool vans that Calum got her, to match his.

“How about a hat, too? Should we get you a beanie to match dad, baby?” He asks, knowing it’ll keep her ears warm if it gets a little chilly. You smile and head to her bedroom to get one of her little hats; her collecting growing with every one that Calum buys. “Come on, sweetheart, lets get you all cosy.”

He moves her away from his body to put her down and she cries, little hands trying to hold onto the neck of his own hoodie. Calum knows she’s being fussy because she’s getting tired and her mouth hurts, yet it makes him sad all the same. “You’re okay, honey, shh.”

Calum manages to set her down in the chair without too much of a fuss; making sure she’s sat down properly, and has her little elephant in reach as well as her pacifier. He leans down in front of her and kisses her nose, making a little ‘mwah’ noise as he does to try and soothe her and make her laugh. It doesn’t though — she still tries to hold onto him so he’ll pick her up again.

“What’s with the tears, angel? What’s the matter?” He soothes, staying close to her and gently wiping her tears away with his thumb. She sniffles and his heart aches at the sight. “You can go to sleep when we get walking, okay? You’re alright, my love.”

It’s moments like these where he’s happy that her pushchair is back facing, so she can see the two of you whilst you walk. You join them near the door, Mara’s beanie in your hands, a pout forming on your lips when you spot Mara in her pushchair.

“Oh, baby, what’s wrong?” You ask, smoothing your fingers down her cheeks to soothe her. You tuck the hat over her head, making sure it covers her little ears to keep her warm. Calum hands you her soft blanket, and you tuck it around her knees so she’s snug — almost certain she’ll fall asleep as soon as you set off. “Your poor mouth is making you so sad, isn’t it? We don’t like having a sad girl.”

Calum grabs Duke’s lead and attaches it to his collar, handing it to you before he takes the handle of Mara’s pushchair. “Let’s go, my loves.”

You lock the door behind you before setting off; one hand holding Duke’s lead, and Calum takes the other — his calloused fingers slip between your own, warm and comforting. It’s such a small gesture yet it reminds you of the love between you both. Calum’s other hand pushes Mara’s pushchair at a steady pace. It’s a lovely spring afternoon — blue skies and birds singing in the trees, with just a slight breeze.

“It’s so nice to be out in the sun,” You comment, and Calum nods in agreement. His eyes land on Mara and he notices her squinting at the sun; stopping for a moment before he pulls the hood of her pushchair a little further up to shade her. “Is that better, honey? Can you see now?”

“It feels like we haven’t done this for a while.” Calum says, his thumb rubbing back and forth over the palm of your hand as you walk. He can’t help but feel a small amount of guilt nagging at his mind, knowing he’s spent a lot of time working recently. He’s always home for bedtime, but he’s always tired too — he knows you need to spend more quality time together. “It’s nice.”

“It is,” You reply, squeezing his hand in return. “When are you in the studio next week?”

Calum doesn’t answer for a moment as he thinks about the timing of you asking — like you also know that him being in the studio has meant less time together.

“I’m not going to go in,” He replies, and he knows it’s the right thing to do. “I miss you. I want to spend time with you and Mara this week, they can manage without me.”

It’s a small relief to hear the words. You never want to force Calum away from the studio, but he’s always in a different mindset when he writes. It’ll do him good to be away for a week — so you can spend more time wrapped in each other and with Mara.

You nod before speaking. “I’m so proud of you though, Cal. The songs are sounding great so far.”

A smile rises on his lips at the words, and he raises your joint hands to your lips so he can brush his lips against your knuckles.

“Thank you, honey. I know it’s a lot when we first start writing. I don’t mean to be distant, it’s just hard to get out of my head when I’ve been writing.” Calum explains, yet you don’t need him to; it’s a cycle you’ve witnessed several times throughout your relationship. You nod as he speaks.

“I know, Cal. It’s okay though.” You reassure him, leaning your head against his shoulder as you walk. “It’s all part of who you are, and I love you for you.”

Nothing else needs to be said.

It’s then that the two of you realise the gentle movement of the wheels of the pushchair against the pavement has sent Mara to sleep, and she’s tucked up under her blanket, fast asleep. Her cheeks are rosy red from the warmth and her sore gums, her little hands tucked up against her face. Calum smiles at the sight, reaching into the pram to push her curls away from her face.

“She’s so sweet.” He murmurs, his heart melting when she leans into his touch, even in her sleep.

“She’s all you,” You reply, watching as she wiggles in her sleep. From her wild curls to her full cheeks and pouty lips, every inch of her reminds you of Calum. He disagrees, though.

He shakes his head.

“No… she doesn’t get her temper and grumpy faces from me.”

Your mouth opens in shock and you playfully hit his arm as he laughs. “Hey! You know for a fact that her grumpy morning face is all from you, don’t try and put that on me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He replies, leaning to kiss you in a silent playful apology. “Whatever you say, my love.”

***

“Should we sit down here for a bit?”

Calum nods and puts the break on Mara’s pushchair, where she’s still sleeping soundly, in between the two of you as you sit down.

“She’s been asleep for a while, there’s no way she’s sleeping tonight.” Calum tells you, and you fear he might be right, even though she needs the sleep with her teeth coming in. “Do you think we should wake her up?”

You gently push her curls away from her face as she snoozes, your heart melting at her pouty lips all smushed up as she sleeps. You realise it has been over an hour since she went to sleep, and that she’ll feel even worse later on if she can’t sleep.

“Yeah, as much as I don’t want to,” You pout, feeling how warm her skin is under your touch. “It’ll do her good to have some fresh air and wake up a bit.”

Calum gently moves the blanket from her lap and pats her tummy, slowly trying to rouse her. Ever since she was born, Mara had been a heavy sleeper - never one to be easily woken up. Maybe she did get that from you. There’d be times where Calum would take her outside with him in the morning to watch the sun rise and she’d happily sleep in his arms, undisturbed by any movement.

“Mara…” Calum murmurs, undoing the buckles so he’d be able to pick her up once she wakes up. He didn’t want to startle her, and knows she’ll just go back to sleep if he rocks her. “Wake up, sweetheart.”

He notices Mara twitch and start sucking on her pacifier — a sign that she’s a little more awake than she was. He brushes his thumb over her cheek and she whines, screwing her eyes up when she realises that she’s outside. She stretches, reaching her arms out for a moment and closing her eyes once more when she relaxes.

“I love watching her wake up.” You comment, chuckling as she very slowly comes round. Calum decides she’s awake enough to move her — carefully slipping his hands underneath her and pulling her up to his chest. “Hi, baby.”

Calum groans dramatically as he gets her settled in his lap and a few cries slip from Mara’s lips at the disturbance; fists lifting to rub her eyes as she wakes up. She sniffles and sucks harder on her pacifier, burying her face against Calum’s chest as he holds her.

“Good afternoon, my love,” Calum murmurs, rubbing her back with his fingertips as he cradles her. “Are you back with us, hey? You’ve been asleep for a long time, honey.”

You know she has no idea what he’s saying, but she loves hearing his voice all the same. He gives her a moment to wake up, brushing his fingers through her hair and cuddling her against him.

“Look how red her cheeks are,” You mention, pouting at the sight — rosy red from how sore her gums are. “Our poor baby.”

He lifts her up so she’s basically standing on his legs, her face in front of his - her hands lifting to cover her eyes from the light. There’s a few families around, children playing and birds singing — a lot of different sights and noises for her to take in. It’s a peaceful day — a feeling of contentment overcoming both you and Calum.

“Hi, little moon,” Calum kisses her pouty lips and gets her settled in his arms, a hand underneath her to keep her sat up. She yawns and her eyes land on you, a smile on her lips as she realises you’re there. “Oh, there’s a smile! We haven’t seen one of those for a little while. Should we get you home soon and have some dinner? How does that sound?”

Calum decides to carry her on the way home for a little while, and your heart melts at the sight — the way he points out different trees and her curious eyes take in the new sights. There’s no one else you want to discover more of the world with.

***

When Calum said Mara wouldn’t sleep that night… he was right. After an hour of rocking her in her room to no avail, you decide to let her join your movie night; there was no point in stressing yourself and Mara out if she didn’t feel like sleeping.

“She gets her stubbornness from you too,” Calum announces, kissing Mara’s temple as he sits down on the sofa next to you with her in his arms. Duke is curled up on one side of you, a blanket thrown over your knees as you waited for Calum to bring Mara down to join you both. “She is not sleeping anytime soon.”

Her big brown eyes look at you from her spot on Calum’s lap — evident that no sleep is about to take place. You laugh at Calum’s words and roll your eyes, shaking your head as Mara reaches out for you.

“Yeah, come here, sweetheart,” You take her and settle her in your lap, brushing your fingers through her hair. “Dad is so mean, isn’t he?”

Calum joins you under your blanket and throws his arm around your shoulder, pulling you both close to him. His cheek rests against your head as he looks at Mara, seeing so much of both you and him in her. He finds the discarded teething ring and hands it to her, hoping it’ll settle her down if it soothes her a little.

“Hey, don’t tell her that,” He replies, his free hand stroking her cheek as she yawns. “You’re meant to be on my side, sweetheart.”

“Sorry, we’re ganging up on you on this occasion, babe.” You shrug your shoulders, rubbing your hand down Mara’s back as she settles in his lap.

Mara finally falls asleep a little later that night curled up in Calum’s arms on the sofa — a warm bottle of milk managing to help her drift off. At the same time, you’re fast asleep with your head in Calum’s lap, and he decides that Sunday’s are his favourite day.

And that with his little family... every day feels like Sunday.

***

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[deluluass]

misericordia

It's finally here T^T Here's to reaching 100+ followers! Thank you so much everyone!!

Content Warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; somnophilia; description of dead bodies; includes some elements of cosmic horror; dystopian-ish au; biblical references/imagery; angel! Ushijima

To name is a barren tree: fruitless and, ultimately, the workings of this kind.

  The earth will soon be without form, and void; and darkness shall remain the face of the deep. 

  The Spirit of God no longer moves in the face of the waters. 

  Names are for nothing.

  But, for any cause done here, to name is essential. As it was in the beginning, when there was still a beginning (but it has not ended yet, so the beginning shall still stay), to name had been the first task.

  So when asked for a name, the mouth was able to conjure:

  “Ushijima Wakatoshi,” the body said. 

  And as it is the way of the Created, the body became he.

  And as it is the way of the Created, proof was immediately demanded for the name. 

  And as it is the way of the Created, once found on the chest, Ushijima Wakatoshi was then welcomed. 

  You weren’t there when the world ended. 

  In fact, so, too, was your father's father. The sky had cracked open and the oceans had already split up the old lands for as long as anyone could remember. 

  Before the city became a city in truth, the people had just been strangers, seeking shelter after everything fell apart, only to be abandoned by those who’d promised protection.

  That didn't mean, however, that things got better for your lot once someone swept in and established order and peace and stability and whatever it is those at the top had to say to justify them being there. 

  If your father were to be believed, you had been sleeping in your mother’s womb, still a tiny beating heart, when the longest winter happened ("winter"; they still called it that when there had been minute differences between hot and cold).

  Supplies were short; food was scarce; so when you finally clawed your way into a world breathing its last, your mother couldn't help but bleed into the sheets until your cry outlived hers. 

  But your father barely recognized you  during his final days. That’s why when your neighbors call you a liar for saying “I was born on a Spring,” you shrug it off and think you might as well have been born on a Spring. 

  There’s no way of knowing. The story had always changed every time you asked him. 

  Sometimes he blamed you, sometimes he told you it’s not your fault. Nothing you could do about it. Spring it is, then; you told yourself. 

  Spring always looked so... different, in the drawings Granny made, anyway.

  No one here actually knows her age. Granny had always been Granny; as permanent to this place as the walls enclosing the city.

  She rarely left her quarters, that crone, and could barely stand on her own without your help. Worse, she could no longer see. What use is a blind artist, the others would laugh. 

  It’s their loss, you’d retort, mocking her like that. Because then they’d miss the way her gnarled and knobby hands would glide with unwavering purpose if you asked her to, strokes bold and not a space wasted.

  “You never learn,” she croaked once finished, jostling the wrinkled piece of paper to your lap. “Why throw away your rations for this piece of junk?”

  Granny retched, “Incurable fool.”

  At this point, she would grumble about suffering in the old pig’s (her words, not yours) kitchens for nothing, and always, without fail, you’d feel a smile break on your face. It hurt, honestly, but after an entire day of frowning over the dishes you had to wash and the floors that needed scrubbing and all the other orders yelled your way, it was worth it, anyway.

  “I know you’re laughing. My ears still work, mind you.”

  You felt your belly shake as you giggled, brushing the paper with worn fingers, staring open-mouthed at the piece before you.

  “This is amazing, Granny,” you sighed.

  “Idiot,” she repeated. “It’s the same thing as the one before. And the one before that.”

  And for good measure, Granny added, “Idiot. Not like you hadn’t seen that one.”

  When all you’d done was take her hand in yours and place a pack of food along with a thin roll of paper in her feeble grasp, Granny finally asked, “Why do you keep coming back here, girl? Asking for the same thing.”

  There wasn’t any of that surly frown now. 

  And looking at her like that, without the crabbiness that sharpens her features, that oddly makes her look younger and in control of herself, you find that you don’t have an answer this time. Arrested by the realization that her shoulders slumped lower than you’d thought. And that she’s getting thinner. 

  “Why?” you whispered back, feeling traces of charcoal stick to your palm.

  Maybe it’s because there’s no other way that she’d accept food, unless she does something in return. She kicked you out the first time you intended to give her the ration you’d earned.

  (Or maybe it's because you know what they'd do, once they find out she's no longer making trades.)

  Why, indeed. 

  Maybe it’s because you hadn’t really seen things grow before. 

  You might work at the Governor’s place, at the heart of the city and everything else that matters, but grunt workers like you are prohibited to get anywhere near the farm, let alone actually enter it. So, really, there's no other way of seeing what growth looks like.

  Maybe it’s because you can only do that when you witness her in her craft. You really don’t have anything to compare it with, but you’re sure life from soil works the same way. 

  Everything must come from something.  And that something must be quite the artist, if they're anything like Granny. 

  Birthing roots from the ground of what was once a blank piece of paper with a flick of the wrist; growing into large trunks, strong branches, then into an abundance of leaves and blossoms. 

  Trees drawn on both sides of the paper, always with a smattering of grass and flowers in the middle. She said they used to grow here, when she was just a girl. And if you begged hard enough, she’d add a stray butterfly fluttering around the corner. 

  You hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe I just love seeing you, Granny,” you grinned.

  “Crock of shit.”

  “Really!” You grabbed your knapsack as you stood from your seat, folding the paper with care. “Hey, Granny, guess what? Don’t give me that face— I’ve already saved just enough and you know what that means?”

  She snorted. 

  “Listen,” you pouted. “I’ll finally be able to get those pigments! I heard they don't cost that much and if I trade next-”

  “Don’t.”

  She tilted her head and faced your way, misty eyes pinning you. "How much does paper cost you?"

  You gulped. 

  Then, with a swiftness that surprised you, she grabbed you by your tattered sleeve and gritted, “I may be the blind one here, but I think I see a lot more clearly than you do. You can sweat and bleed for those pigments, but I will never paint.”

  You felt a sting in your eyes as she continued, “I know what you’re doing. And I’d be the greater fool if I let you work yourself to the bone for some pipe dream."

  "Content yourself with coal, girl. That’s all you’re gonna get from this place. Dirt and rust and smoke. Go sneak into that damned farm. Go steal some of those fuckers’ riches. In fact, while you’re at it,” she laughed dryly. “Steal them all and run away from here. If you really want to live.”

  “Only,” she said, too soft that you had to sit back down to hear her, “Only, stop hoping, my child.”

  Her chest wheezed as she breathed, like air passing through the holes of a rundown machine. 

  You kissed the back of her hand before you left. 

  The wind howled and threatened to topple you as you walked back to your building, hard rain slapping you across the face when you picked up into a run. They didn’t descend in small drops anymore. As you get older, thunderstorms are to be expected once evening falls, lingering for weeks only to suddenly bring about an irritatingly humid day. 

  But tonight, the large cavern above that parts the dark, heavy clouds into opposite streams seem to yawn wider, closing itself lower and lower into the earth that you swore someday it’ll devour the city whole.

  Mud water in your boots, you grabbed onto your soaked coat and climbed the steps of the decaying piece of slab you call home, mindful that you won’t slip and break your skull against the thick beams, twisted metal jutting out of the corners.

  A solitary lamp flickered through the window of the room next to yours. Little Soo-jin must be having nightmares again, you thought with a frown. 

  You were about to knock on their door when the sirens blared, echoing louder across the city than the boom of lightning, followed by a grating squeal that could only be an opening gate. 

  Your knuckle froze over the chipped wood.

  The last time the alarm rang, the people were greeted by the body of a young council member, brought by a small and wounded troop who’d accompanied him outside the city. 

  Soo-jin’s mom peered through the murky window, meeting your eyes after both of you stared into the direction of the gate closest to your zone, as if seeking you for an explanation. You only gave her a shrug.

  “Someone must have died,” you said.

    “No, he’s not dead. That’s why you’re bringing food to his room, aren’t you?”

  You stared at the girl stubbornly shaking her head. 

  “I- I know, but! Didn’t you hear? They said they found him full of bullet holes and I—”

  “Even if you’re serving a rotting corpse, as long as Cook orders it, you follow.”

  It was admirable that she’s refused for this long. If it were you, you’d have been sacked the moment you opened your mouth to say no. You wiped your hand with the towel next to the sink, having finished the work assigned to you, and watched the ongoing bout in the kitchen.

  “Why can’t you just ask the others? Marga’s not doing anything!”

  “Marga,” the older woman hissed, “is with the others. Almost everyone is in the meeting room. So if you don’t take your butt up there, I’m gonna have no other choice but to tell Cook.”

  You winced. This can’t be good.

  You cleared your throat. “I can do it,” you said.

  The tray was shoved to you faster than you can drop your raised hand. You would have found it amusing, considering that you’re sure they couldn’t even recognize you, but the idea of being in the same room with a half-alive man does make you feel uneasy. 

  Not that it’s anything new for you; you nursed your father until the fever took him, after all. You just haven’t lived long enough to get used to it yet. But you steeled yourself and did your job, because it’s not as if you had any choice. 

  You prepared yourself for anything as you entered one of the many guest chambers. Bullet holes, rotting corpse, entrails held together by stitches. 

  And when you announced your presence and gripped the tray tighter so as to not spill the soup on the sprawling carpet, it’s not really surprise that caused you to stumble upon your words when you saw the man sitting on the bed.

  It’s more of an embarrassment, of sorts. 

  You must’ve entered the wrong room, you thought. You immediately checked around  to make sure no one saw you talk and almost grovel to an actual sculpture. 

  Because that’s what he was. 

  The Governor’s estate houses floors and floors of rooms that you hadn't explored yet. But there was one that, if no one would bother to keep track of the workers, you had the habit of sneaking into. 

  Thinking about what it took for this family to have all those sculptures there hurt your head, so you stopped a long time ago. You chose, instead, to just admire the marble wonders in all their beauty, always looking back down at you with majesty and pride. 

  Just as he's doing right now. 

  Chiseled torso wrapped in bandages; sharp jaw that could cut; eyes the color of olives, gazing deep.

  "That is for me."

  You snapped your head down. 

  "Huh- uh, yes? Yes!" 

  His deep voice still rumbled through you. 

  "Yes, I'm sorry," you muttered, heat rushing to your face as you placed the tray on the table next to him, inflaming when you realized he didn't mean it as a question.

  That is for me. 

  Not a question. A question means you can answer. His words brooked no other response but obedience, reminding you of your place.

  Much like those sculptures, every time  you'd spent too much time inside the room and you'd get the feeling that you're not supposed to be there, too filthy to be anywhere near what you think is the closest thing to perfection. 

  And the truth would settle on you like a heavy weight: that no amount of beauty can ever breathe warmth if it cannot live and grow. 

  The same way that despite the sunshine filtering through the floor to ceiling windows, surrounding him in blinding light as he sat on the bed, you can't shake the impression that this is the coldest this room has ever been, with him here. 

  So you anticipated his orders; a single word or maybe a glance that would tell you he wants you gone. Just either one of those and you'd run out of this room in a heartbeat. 

  But neither came. The man (you still didn't know his name) remained silent, staring at the food like they've insulted him specifically, and now he's questioning the collective audacity of the soup, bread, and bowl of fruits laid before him. 

  Maybe they don't serve those where he came from. He's from the North, after all, made evident by the small eagle etched on his chest, just above a pectoral. The last visiting Northerner you served who also bore that mark threw a rag at you (she missed) for "mixing the bathing oils incorrectly."

  You stayed in your position and asked, "Is the food not to your liking?"

  He didn't say anything, but he did shift his attention to you.

  And what a mistake that was. How does this man go about life with such a severe presence?

  "Er..is something..wrong?" you sweated, suddenly fascinated by the vases behind him. 

  Glaring back at the food, he answered with a deep "no" and breathed out. His large arms rose and fell along with it, straining the bandages around the muscles.

  Oh, right. Right.

  You perked up. "Do you need help?"

  Stepping closer to the table, you gave him a tightlipped smile and a sheepish "excuse me" before taking the spoon in your hand. 

  You scooped a thick serving of soup, your palm hanging under it, and waited.

  And waited. 

  The man looked at you the same way he looked at the bowl of fruits earlier.

  "What are you doing?" he said,  gravel-voiced. 

  You're gonna lose this job.

  Why did you think you could feed him like he's an ailing, decrepit old man? Or a literal child? He's built like he commands an army (and he probably does).

  You are definitely gonna lose this job.

  "I- I'm sorry!" 

  You jerked away, your hip hitting the table, the impact shaking it and causing the plates and silverware to clatter against each other.

  "O-oh no, I'm-" The spoon in your hand fell as you attempted to set things properly, soup spilling to the carpet along with the utensils.

  You're gonna lose this job and you're gonna starve to death.

  "I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry!" 

  Dropping to your knee like your life depended on it, you picked up the myriad of similar looking spoons and forks and placed them back on the tray. 

  You kept your head downwards, bowing as you'd been repeatedly taught, and shut your eyes tightly. 

  "I thought that you hadn't healed yet and needed help and- and-" you huffed.

  "And I thought that I should feed you but- no-no!" You looked at him and flailed your hands in front of you. "No! I didn't mean feed- I meant- I meant no disrespect please forgive me!"

  Not a word was spoken in that second that spanned an entire year. But just as you'd accepted that the worst has come, he said:

  "Then, feed me."

  Wait.

  Wait, what?

  "I don't.. understand..?"

  "Then, feed me," was what he told you. And so matter-of-factly, at that. 

  So you did, desperate to keep the only thing keeping you alive. 

  Though your hand trembled and you wished to be anywhere but here— even the wasteland waiting outside the gates, with all its unimaginable threats, seemed like paradise —you took a loaf of bread from the basket and brought it closer to his mouth.

  Lines marred his forehead as he chewed. You were about to ask, self-destructive that you are, whether you should get the sweetened roll instead, thinking he found the one in your hand too bland. But you don't have the luxury to risk digging your grave any deeper. 

  You kept quiet and pointedly removed him from your line of sight, choosing to count the tassels hanging off the canopy instead.

  Once he's eaten all that's left of the pastries, you dipped your hand into the bowl of fruits and took a grape in-between your fingers and, as much as you can, you steadied your hand to avoid touching his lips.

  It didn't work. 

  You shuddered at the contact, curling your toes in your boots to avoid squirming. 

  This has got to be the weirdest day of your entire life.

  Not a hint of unease was shown. He continued to close his plump lips around the tip of your fingers and crushed the fruits with pointed canines, making the hair on your body stand on end. What if he bites you? Would you bleed?

  The man seemed to like them more than bread. A sense of urgency rose within you as he went through the berries and sliced mangoes like this is the first time he's had them.

  Can't say you blame him. The last time you ate something that resembled a fruit, a real fruit, was when Granny persuaded (coerced) a young boy in her complex to steal one from his employer. That boy has a child of his own now. 

  You felt your mouth water, your stomach growl and command that you take the bowl from him and shovel its contents to your mouth, as you watched him devour the sweet and tangy meat, the smell of it sickening as it is strangely compelling.

  He raised his head and met your eyes.

  Shit. 

  The apples, you thought as you looked back down to the tray. They're the only ones left soaking in the bowl, those apples. After this you'd be out of this stuffy room and you'd laugh about this later with Soo-jin and her mom and Granny too if she's not cranky.

  You could still feel him staring at you as you fed him a slice, the apple crisp when he took a bite. 

  Juice trickled down your hand, the sticky extract tickling your arm as it slid to the crook of your elbow, and you were about to wipe it with your other hand, when you felt a wet tongue probe the gap between your fingers.

  You gasped. "Sir..!" 

  You stepped away. Tried to, anyway, but with a firm hand, a hand that's not injured, after all, he gripped your wrist and continued to suck a digit. 

  "This is- sir!" struggling out of his hold, you pleaded with him to let go, please sir let me go, even as he only looked at you, his eyes dimming when he grabbed your waist to bring you closer. 

  He licked your hand, lapping at the trail the juice left behind, and when you thought he would release you, he took your hand to pluck another slice from the bowl. 

  Your legs gave up beneath you, forcing you to sit on his stretched lap, his hard body scorching you through the sheets, as he ate the apple from your palm, slurping the leftovers dripping from it. 

  "Don't cry," Granny told you once.

  "Especially when you feel like crying," she said. "Don't cry."

  You'd never really been good at listening, but now, you decided to suck in your breath and keep those tears at bay. You can cry and laugh about all this later.

  Because you might be jobless after this, but you will certainly have a damn good story to tell over the fire once you finished kneeing him in the nuts.

  So: one.

  Breathe.

  His teeth scraped your soaked hand.

  Two.

  You rested your hand on his shoulder.

  Three.

  You braced your leg, moving it between his thick thighs, and then, as you clutched his bandages, you—

  "Ushijima-sama."

  The door swung open.

  "Pardon the intrusion, but the Council members requested-”

  It was Secretary Hara.

  “Oh."

  Secretary Hara: a lanky, dark haired man with glasses who's always at the Governor's beck and call. He was here, carrying a small stack of papers, and gaping at the scene before him.

  You and the esteemed guest. Who's still suckling at your skin. On the bed. 

  He grinned, full of humor and disgusting. “Well,” he said. 

  At least you weren't crying.

  A question, shared only by the Heavens, began when the Lord fashioned the flesh out of the dust of the ground and said,"You are made in My image and likeness."

  It was not their way, before that: to question. (One of them did, once, but that is a different story). 

  They have no need for questions.

  They hold the highest seat, below only to the Creator, unencumbered by the trappings of the earth.

  They have no need for questions.

  So it remained unasked, lingering in fragments in the House of the Lord.

  The question comes to him now.

  For the flesh is a cage. It is ephemeral and prone to decay.

  It is fitting for this kind to have it, with all their qualities bound to the material world.

  You are the very epitome of these.

  Graceless. Stumbling like a newborn foal. Too many apologies. Too many questions.

  God is not here, he thinks as you insist on asking what does not matter.

  “Is the food not to your liking?” and “Is something wrong?” and “Do you need help?”

  Indecisive, too. Reneging on your promises. You said you’d feed him and then you said you wouldn’t.

  Ushijima Wakatoshi is a mere flesh, locking inside divinity your kind would never understand. Yet he felt its tedious demands gnaw at him when he saw you. Something so impermanent should have no right for constant sustenance. 

  But he knows, just for this time, that he needs it. That’s why he tells you to feed him, as you said you would. After all, it is your way to serve. And, for all your many inadequacies, God has granted you bread and water and fruit to sate your appetites. 

  Thus, for as long as he is flesh, he will do as it tells him to. 

  When it urged for the taste of fruit, for the cloying sweetness of its juice, it is only right that he heeded its call and had his fill. 

  How dare you object. His light is brighter than yours; God has granted it so (and yet you were given the will that they never had). And even in flesh you are beneath him. You are easily held and defeated.

  The ache in his belly did not cease, each gulp he took heightening his senses, shouting for more, more, more as he took you with his tongue. And he realizes that this is what the first of your kind may have felt like when they disobeyed. The first act of betrayal.

  (For what is the wrath of God to the cries of the flesh?)

  And with that, Ushijima Wakatoshi finds, since donning this useless flesh, that it is not at all easy to gratify. 

  Not in the least.

    There are so many rules in this mansion that even Cook’s effort to batter them on your head could sometimes be futile, given that their number is just as big as this place. But, there is one, among all the convoluted and at times nonsensical decrees, that you are not allowed to forget: 

  Unless you’re among the core staff, you can never enter the East Wing. 

  The East Wing is where all the important things happen, see. It goes without saying that someone as lowly as you cannot pollute that hallowed ground.

  Today seems to be an exception.

  When Cook barked that Secretary Hara wanted you in the East Wing first thing in the morning, you had a feeling that you just might not live to see the next day.

  You didn't speak unless spoken to. You didn't look unless told to. The things you should've done much earlier.

  "How are you liking the work here so far?" 

  Secretary Hara pushed the pen to the side and leaned back against the leather swivel chair. 

  "It's a job," you mumbled, to which he only replied with a breathless chuckle. You didn't see the point in bootlicking any further. Besides, Granny hated that the most; so you avoided doing it as much as you can.

  There's only one conclusion for you here, anyway. No matter how severe the punishment. And it's back in your room, with a uniform that needs sewing for a job that you no longer have.

  He tapped his fingers against the lacquered table. "You're right," he said. "Work is work. Despite your place in this society."

  You wanted to roll your eyes. Secretary Hara has never been any of the workers' favorites (not that any of you had your "favorites," but if you could, you avoided this guy). He had this astonishing effect, too, in which he can actually bring people together. All because everyone hated him.

  He's a slimeball, is what he is. If one needed lessons in kissing ass, he was your man. 

  "Do you know why you're here?"

  You're getting fired. End of story. Now can I please just go? is what you want to say. But losing your job doesn't usually take this much time and attention. Normally, it was Cook who'd grunt "You're out" and that was it.

  So you shake your head.

  "I'm promoting you," he said. "Congratulations."

  Somewhere, beneath that condescending smile of his, is a punchline that you're sure he's deliberately keeping from you. Just so he can be the only one who gets to laugh.

  "I-" You balled your hand to a fist. "Why?"

  He scoffed. "What are they teaching you in that rathole? Honestly."

  They taught me not to be rude to people I don't know, you little bitch.

  "Drop the coy act, it's okay," he sneered. "It's cheap and it won't work on me."

  Oh, now you really want to get fired. If only to kick his teeth in. "That man," Secretary Hara continued. "Ushijima Wakatoshi. You were all over him and you seriously don't know who he is?"

  You gritted. "Secretary Hara, what happened- it wasn't- I didn't want it."

  But he only gave you that look. As if to say, "Sure. Let's go with that." When it'd pass and the need to pummel him became stronger, he stood up and stepped towards the tapestry draped against the wall.

  It was a map, the city a pinprick on the corner. Secretary Hara faced it, dusting the spotless surface, his back to you.

  "Ever wonder what keeps us here?" he started, hand still on the map. "This city of ours?"

  "The," you licked your lips. Where was he going with this? "The river..?"

  Secretary Hara clapped his hands, his voice lilting like he's talking to a toddler as he said, "That's right. That's good. Excellent."

  "So you do know some things, after all." His fingers crawled towards the long line of blue stitched beside the city. "And do you wonder what would happen if, say, that river begins to dry?"

  You felt your eyes widen. You covered your mouth with a palm. 

  You're not supposed to know this. Why is he telling you this?

  He scratched the thick clump of blue thread and continued, "These great cities. They have their energy; their military." 

  Your eyes followed his hand, moving farther and farther away from the pallid brown surrounding your city, towards the bright yellow West, stopping at the bright green East. "Some of them are blessed enough to not be surrounded by a literal desert."

  Then, with a careful hand, he moved to the very top and said, "And the North…the North has it all."

  The North was a sprawling, intricate web of threads, eating away the entire tapestry. 

  "The Ushijima clan rules the North. Much longer than this city has existed. And they’re so engrossed in their wars that they’d never glance our way if we don't give them at least half of what we make,” he spat. “These great people haven’t had contact with us in years."

  Secretary Hara finally turned around, grin still in place. "But now one of them owes his life to us." He walked back to his desk, sitting on its edge. "Perhaps the heavens sent him here."

  When you remained silent and looked at him with eyes that you wished had the ability to kill, because you know now what they wanted from you, Secretary Hara only shrugged.

  "He asked for your name, actually," he said, tilting his head. "Lucky you. He didn't bother to learn ours."

  You stood your ground. "No, sir," you said. "I won't."

  He pulled a thin piece of paper from a pile sitting next to him. "You're not gonna do much," he said as he began to read. "Just show him around the city. Be his friend."

  Friend. 

  "But I- No. I can't." You stepped forward. "Please." 

  He looked away from the paper. "Zone 42. Room 0312."

  "What.."

  "Granny," he said. "That's what you call her, isn't it?"

  No.

  "They say that for a blind old lady she's still somehow miraculously trading to keep a roof over her head."

  Phantom touches crept to your arm, slick and nauseating like cold sweat.

  "You must take it from her. Though you're not related," he said.  "Apparently, you're so hardworking, you even work the night shift. When you don't have to."

  You released a shaky breath. "I'll..I'll start," you croaked. "I'll start right away, sir." 

  Secretary Hara folded his arms, victory plastered all over his gaunt face.

  "Thank you," he chimed. "I'm glad you understand. It's for your own good too, y'know." 

  The uniform they gave you chafed against your skin. Tugging at the sleeves did not help, the pristine fabric too coarse and stiff to budge. Your only comfort was the folded paper hidden in your pocket, fading at the edges every time you touched it.

  You have to admit, however, that you did look...well, you did look clean. Not as much as him, though. And not just in the sense that he's out of the bandages now. Last you checked, and that had been a few minutes ago, he was still sporting a couple of scars on his forehead.

  Despite that, you don't have to look behind you to know what's captured the people's attention as you strolled the capital. Or, who, to be exact.

  Some were outright ogling; some happened to glance once and then immediately looked away with a blush; some made the laudable effort to not look. 

  A mirror of what you're doing right now. 

  They gilded him with gold, which is a redundancy if you ever see one. He was wearing the most expensive pigment, something that only the Governor's family could own: a deep violet tunic emblazoned with golden vines, swirling from the middle to the collar; paired with dress pants that you could probably trade for a whole month's worth of food. 

  You kept your distance as you walked in front of him. "Just show him around the city," was what Secretary Hara told you. That didn't mean you had to talk.

  And it's not as if he had any complaints, either. He followed you through the rows of glass houses that adorned Governor's lane, not a word spoken about the sights. 

  Even when you'd attempted to speed through the dizzying streets, he kept his pace, long legs allowing him to stride close to you. By time you'd reached the plaza, you were already out of breath and in need of rest. 

  But you didn’t. 

  You remained standing a few feet away from him, the paper in your hand opened to reveal those great trees and thriving field, as he sat under the gazebo overlooking the square; a place reserved only for council members. 

  The smell of the sweetmeats and oranges in front of him reached your nose (Secretary Hara has a cruel sense of humor, you belatedly realized, when you were handed a bag of food that had a note saying “treat him well”). You fought the itch to cast out what little you’ve had for breakfast.

  Children were playing around the sandbox, the staff of whatever family they belonged to guarding them. In a way, their job wasn’t that different from what you have now. 

  Except, it’s not a child you were threatened to accompany. With the feeling of his gaze burning your nape, it seems like you’re not the one doing the guarding as well. 

  And you didn’t feel every bit like the adult you are when he called your name.

  You felt frighteningly small, as you yielded with a pathetic, “Ushijima-sama.”

  He only looked at you. Those green eyes telling you exactly what he wanted. 

  People are watching. You can’t mess this up.

  “Sir,” you said, hand still in your pocket, that frayed paper your anchor. “It is improper.”

  Irritation swept through him, his sharp features harsher when dissatisfied. But you can’t give up, even though it’s sending a chill down your spine and he seems like he’s about to throttle in broad daylight. (And he doesn’t have to do much, you know. He can crush you with one hand.)

  “Why- why are you here?” you hissed. “R-really?”

  You don’t shut your trap when you have to, girl. That’s your problem.

  “Because- because I’m not gonna be your..thing.” The paper was dampening in your grip. “While you do whatever it is you do, Ushijima,” you huffed. “...sama”

  Ushijima did not blink, his stare unwavering as he turned towards the small crowd strolling below. There’s a part of you that wishes to put yourself in his place, like a king on his throne. What does the view look like from up there? Are the people beneath just multicolored ants moving from afar? 

  “A few of my kind have suddenly sided with yours,” he said. Then, briefly returning his gaze to you, “I had to see what draws them here.” 

  He linked his fingers together. “Before I do what must be done.”

  You stifled a chortle. “Do what must be done” your ass. Does that include harassing people, too? “God only knows,” you whispered.

  “You believe in God.”

  You were the subject of his relentless attention again. You groaned, averting your eyes to a small girl, probably around Soo-jin’s age, who plopped down to create a heap of sand, much to the consternation of her nanny. 

  “No,” you replied in a thin voice. 

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” Where is this question coming from? “Always seemed like a lot of work,” you said. 

  The little girl was making a castle. It’s apparent to you now that she has little pail by her side, shovel in her grubby hand. The frill of her dress caught most of the sand as she stacked them atop each other.

  “And I’m pretty sure God has more fun things to do than worry about me,” you added, just because.

  The castle reached her knees when the girl stood up. 

  "God has left," Ushijima said. "A long time ago."

  And then she kicked it. The thing crumbled to a mound, the breeze scattering it back to the sand. 

  You did chuckle this time. The Northerners sure are strange. "Really? Where’d God go?" you hummed, looking up to the sky.

  The sun was blanketed by waves of clouds, as usual. "Somewhere nicer, I hope," you sighed. 

  You closed your eyes and thought of that nicer place. It would have to be far, far away from here. Maybe it would even have those trees that Granny loved.

  "Cherry trees."

  You opened your eyes and gawked at him. 

  He was still gazing at you. 

  "You are attached to it," he told you, like it's nothing; like your heart's not wreaking havoc against your ribs with each word he utters. "On that paper."

  Pulling it out of your pocket, you stumbled to him and unfolded it for him to see. "You-  you know what this is? A 'cherry tree.' That’s what you call it?"

  "Yes." Ushijima's eyes did not leave yours. "That is the name you people have bestowed upon them."

  "Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?"

  You didn't let him answer that because, just like the fool that Granny accused you to be, you took his hand in your trembling one and laughed, somehow managing to drag him out of the gazebo.

  It took a while before you finally let go.

  Much has changed along the way, he felt this as the air grew hotter; the sound of bustling people louder and less constrained with inutile mortal etiquette. You seemed less wary of him here. 

  The hand that held his tightly was still brushing against him, as you talked incessantly about the pieces of paper plastered across the wall. They all looked the same, yellowed and infested with mold at the edges, but you insisted otherwise.

  “See here?” You pointed to the one on the bottom. “Granny drew the leaves differently. They look like flowers don’t they? They are, aren’t they? I knew it! So they are flowers.” 

  There was a cot in the corner of the room. He sees you there in slumber, surrounded by rocks and scraps of metal and bits of gemstones held together by strings, each strand hanging on the crevices of the roof, gleaming every time they move. 

  You tapped his arm repeatedly. “Oh, oh. I put these two beside each other. Notice that the shades are different? This one is lighter while this one has more shadows to it.”

  "Do you get it now?" you asked him, expectant. 

  Humans are baffling creatures, Wakatoshi thought. Because when he said nothing, you only laughed (you seem to like doing that) and told him to “follow me; hurry.” You didn’t hold his hand this time (you should’ve, he preferred it when you did).

  “My bad. I hadn’t shown you yet,” you huffed as you grabbed a rag and set aside buckets of rainwater that obstructed his path. 

  Behind a curtain of sackcloth and ashes, draped at the furthest side of the wall, was a crack big enough to let a person through, corroding steel bars protruding along the broken concrete. 

  Wakatoshi ducked to enter the room next to yours. It was hollow, save for bits of gravel and a window obscured by dust. You paced to it then wiped the thick glass with the rag you brought with you.

  “That hill is always there in Granny’s drawings,” you said, taking the paper in your pocket and setting it parallel to the scene revealed by the window. 

  Your smile was wide, as if you were admiring a land lush with vegetation, or wildflowers at least. When it was far from that. It was a vast desolation, beyond the gates and the brown earth fractured. But, just as you said, there is a solitary hill sitting along the horizon.

  “Those trees- cherry trees,” you started, face radiating with mirth. “It’s the same but.. different each time.” Your breathless laugh makes him feel just as winded. “How is that even possible?”

  “I know they can’t be just...green.” A finger traced the outline of the leaves. “Because these are real and they actually grow and- and they change.” And, as if it’s a secret, “Unlike the ones at the capital.”.

  “If only Granny would paint them for me,” you whispered, the smile on those lips waning. 

  Wakatoshi couldn’t stand it. So, he grunted, “You are wrong. This one is green.”

  He took the paper from your hand. “They only change colors once they bloom. White, first. Then, pink.” 

  This knowledge is trivial; if it can be considered knowledge at all. It is a speck in the infinite matters that simply exist— have existed, in this world. Yet such a thing has put that look in your eyes. 

  Perhaps it is not inconsequential at all.

  “Pink?” you breathed, grinning incredulously at him. 

  You turned away and closed your eyes, your voice cracking as you murmured, “I see.”

  There's a blood pumping organ within his chest. A vital piece that keeps you humans alive. It beats constantly, never ceasing. If it does then it means you are dead. He is flesh, for now; it follows that if it halts, then he is fodder for the earth.

  How is it, then, that he is still here? He’s sure he felt it stop, the air knocked out of his lungs, as you looked back at him, eyes welling with tears when you said, “Thank you.”

  Thank you, you told him, smiling.

  Ah. 

  Wakatoshi gets it now.

  This is what God must have seen, when your kind looked up and sang, “I love you, my God; I love you; I love you.” And when you knelt and dared to turn those eyes for others that are not God, he suddenly understands why they were ordered to rain fire and brimstone upon your great kingdoms. 

  Because he, too, would smite anything, burn it to the ground and salt what is left, if it would so much as receive a whit of your sweet, soft words. 

  “They used to grow here,” you sniveled. “Granny said so.”

  “And I thought, maybe if Granny added a bit more color- maybe they'd feel more…I don't know..real..?” Laughter rings in his ears once again, pealing like bells. “Yeah..They'd feel more real...Though, she did get mad at me,” you winced.

  “I just thought,” you sighed, your shoulders touching him. “Wouldn't it be nice if I can wake up one day and find them growing again? Right here.”

  God created a garden for your kind once. It is gone now, but Wakatoshi wonders what you’d say, how you’d look at him, if he shows it to you. Your head against the grass, fingers laced with the lilies of the field, the taste of fruit on your lips, your thighs dripping with honey and dew—

  Wakatoshi felt his loins stir, but he didn't say anything, except, “The soil here is poisoned.”

  You snapped towards him, brows drawn together. “I know,” you said.

  “A sapling cannot grow on this wasteland.” 

  “Yes, I’m not stupid.”

  “That could have been any hill.”

  “I know.”

  His throat is parched; his hands a pair of useless things. He can hold galaxies in them, sink ships and level seas by the order of God had this body not trapped him. (He can free himself, but then you’d die). Now he doesn’t even know what to do with them as he rushes out a hoarse, “I have upset you.”

  He refused to let you take the paper from him. You didn’t seem to mind.

  “No,” you sighed. “No, of course not. Forgive me, Ushijima-sama.”

  You bowed again. An act of servitude.

  “Please, let me escort you back to the capital.”

  He does not understand. He only told you the truth. 

  But you turned your back to him and the light in your eyes has gone and he wants to chase it back the same way he wanted to run after God when the parting happened, leaving the Heavens mourning until their wails split the firmament open. 

  Wakatoshi yearns to have you closer. He yearns for that smile and laughter back on your face. 

  Wakatoshi yearns. 

  But, that cannot be. 

  After all, that is just much too human, is it not?

    The rain drenched Wakatoshi to the bone, droplets falling from his lashes to his cheeks, when he walked through the nighttime storm.

  He didn't bother to dry himself. 

  After he'd reached your room and shoved the door open, the clap of thunder covering the noise, Wakatoshi decided to undress himself, shedding all articles of clothing until he was naked as the day God created your kind.

  Wakatoshi felt the chill bite his skin. But that had nothing on the way you easily dismissed him earlier, by the time you'd reached the abode of this city's leader. 

  You left him and he could no longer see your face and yet that fierce longing in his chest stayed, creeping to every part of him, making a home in his belly.

  Until he recognized the feeling for what it was.

  Hunger. 

  Hunger, he could fathom. And when one feels it gnaw at one's flesh, what does one do, but eat?

  You were sleeping on the cot, just as he'd imagined you to be. It's enough to keep him warm: the sight of you, at peace under the glimmer of the trinkets dancing above as a lamp burned lowly. 

  The mattress sank under his weight when he sat next to you. His much larger hand took yours, locking your fingers together to rest his cheek against it, bringing it beneath his nose, and feeling his heart race as he breathed in your scent. 

  He remembers the first time he did this so vividly. You tasted like apples and sin; and though there's none of that now, his mouth still waters as he savors your skin, his tongue traveling to your arm, just as he did then, leaving bites along the way.

  You barely stirred when he lifted your shirt to reveal your tits, the sheen of sweat along the valley forcing a growl out of him.

  Do you feel it, too? When you drag him further down to earth, debasing him and bringing him so low that now he is nothing but a hungry flesh and a mouth made of obscenities. 

  "Fuck," he grunts, as he took his cock, heavy and hard to touch, and rubbed the head with his fingers.

  Perhaps he is lower than human now. Perhaps it does not matter. What is God to this hunger, anyway?

  (This hunger is bigger than God.)

  The cot was pitifully small as he straddled over your chest, breathing still shallow, and spat on his hand before wrapping it around the thick shaft. The tip of his cock touched your nipple as he fondled with the other one, thumb and forefinger pinching and pulling until you let out a tiny mewl.

  Hearing it had him falling to his knees. 

  Wakatoshi moved off the cot to kneel on the floor, the better to suckle on your tits, to lick and nibble on the skin below it, on your stomach, until he's seeing red and ripping your loose pants down to your thighs.

  He pumped his cock harder as he caressed the folds of your cunt. You groaned, arching your back and offering yourself to his mouth, when he started to lap on your clit, sticky liquid coating the swollen bud as he swirled his tongue to  spread the juices dripping from your hole.

  Your entire body was singing for him, even when all you'd managed were squirms and muted whimpers. He felt your skin twitch beneath his lips, as he cupped his balls and drove his hand faster around his throbbing cock, gripping his fist tighter.  

  Oh, he sees you on that garden, clinging onto him as he drives himself into you, pounding your cunt as you beg please, just as you did before, please, please, fuck me harder I am yours I am all yours.

  But, for now, he settles himself with the violent shudders of your body, flooding his mouth with cream, as he releases his seed on his palm. 

  Wakatoshi rubbed it against your leaking cunt, quivering still in his hand. 

  There is something that must be finished, first, before he takes you, in truth. He cannot have you conscious (for now.)

  He covered you back in your clothes, after. Then, Wakatoshi lingered on your face.

  "Fearfully and wonderfully made," he whispered, a mere guttural sound amidst the rain pouring outside. 

  Here lies salvation, he thought, as his fingers brushed your closed eyes. 

  And here, Wakatoshi thought as he brought his lips down to kiss you, here lies damnation. 

  He wiped his blood on the doorposts and lintel before he left.

    You woke up to silence.

  Your nether regions ached and, really, the temptation to not go to work today was insanely strong. But the sun was already bleeding through the window and there's a heavy feeling on your chest.

  And like wearing a shirt on backwards, you immediately knew that something was not right. 

  The sound of the door slamming open echoed through the building as you ran outside. 

  There was nothing. 

  Not the sound of people going about their day nor of children risking the wrath of their mothers with their games. The only thing you could hear was the buzzing noise of a fly circling around your ear.

  You didn't bother knocking on your neighbor's room, rushing inside to shout for Soo-jin and her mom, stopping only when you found them sitting around a small table.

  They didn't turn around to greet you.

  "There you are," you panted, putting your hands on your knees. "I'm so sorry for barging in like this."

  Even little Soo-jin, who never failed to jump into your arms given the opportunity, kept her back to you.  

  You stepped towards her. "Soo-jin," you whispered, placing a hand on her thin shoulder. 

  "Soo-jin, hey," you chuckled, your trembling fingers shaking her bit. "H-hey, what's wrong?"

  Her head nodded down, like a doll grabbed all too suddenly, then it lolled to the side, rolling until she bared her neck, until you saw her face.

  Her mouth hung open. 

  Inside the cavern were tiny black lumps that took you a second to realize were flies feasting on her molars. And when you lurched and sank to the floor, it was only then that you saw her staring back at you.

  Bleached eyes, wide and whitened to the core and pupils like spoiled milk. 

  "N-no." Your vision was cloudy, freezing dread settling at the pit of your stomach when you saw that the same happened to her mother. "Who- who did this?"

  Your voice strained out as you stood, mind moving faster than your legs.

  Granny. Go to Granny. 

  Though you already know, don't you? You don't have to see her to know her fate. Because as you sprinted out of the room, leaping down across the steps, out of the building and into sand and concrete, the smell of sulfur followed you, choking you along with the sight of bodies sprawled on the ground.

  Insects creeping out of nostrils and every other orifice, faces that you'll never have the chance of knowing and faces that you'd grown up with, hands reaching to the heaven as if at prayer.

  You are alone. You are alone in a city filled with rotting corpses. 

  There was an uncontrolled animal inside your body, fighting out of its cage in a fit of rage as you craned to look up, further up.

  The sky was on fire, the fissure in the middle gaping wider and wider and sucking in a mass of swirling clouds dipped with blood and orange.

  And there. There, look. Standing atop the towering walls.

  Beyond the heat wave was a figure, burning bright that you had to squint and you wanted to look away, you had to look away, but you can't go out like this, not without a scream and a curse at your lips.

  What did you do, you were shouting, Who are you, you were screeching, feeling the veins in your neck stretch and pop as you walked closer and closer. 

  Wings as far as the eye could see stood atop the fallen city.

  Spread out to span the horizon and folded at the middle to conceal whatever it is pointing a flaming sword towards the sun. 

  You tasted iron at the back of your mouth, but you did not stop. The earth beneath you swallowed your feet as it turned to mud with each step you took.

  And with the flap of its wings, the sound of metal banging against each other reverberated louder.

  There were children howling in pain, somewhere, behind you, in front of you, beside you. You staggered forward and for the life of you, you do not understand why you keep trying, because the ground below wasn't even soil anymore.

  It took another step before you fell.

  And it was like one of those dreams. 

  But this time you don't wake up. 

  You bawled out and thrashed your legs as water rose above you, slamming against your chest and filling up your mouth and burning your nose until it's all you could see, until you're floating in darkness and water is rushing to your lungs and you were flailing upwards, catching that spot of sunlight, but the more you kicked your feet and swung your arms, the more it tugged at your heavy legs and the less you could breathe and the further it got—  

You were sinking, the clanging of a giant bell everywhere still, as the water pulled you down, and in the deep, below the nothingness, was a massive cleft illuminated by the barest of light, slowly opening to reveal an eye, and no sound came out though you know, though you felt your throat release a shriek, horrifyingly small, so, so small compared to that glass green pupil that illuminated the darkness, rapidly contracting and dilating and then blinking as  salt and fire streamed deep in your skin, but they were looking at you from all sides, a thousand eyes flanking you and judging the weight of your soul with their unforgiving gaze as you tossed and turned in the waters. 

  I am going to die here, you thought. I will die here, you cried.

  But something was pulling at your waist and despite clawing and jabbing at it, desperate to keep it away from you as you wailed get off me get off me, it gripped you tight, hauling you upwards until you were gulping and breathing in cold air.

Through tears and the piercing cry that ripped out your throat, you felt strong, warm arms cradle you close.

  Along with a deep voice, familiar and conjuring a long lost memory. 

It lulled you into hiccups and dry sobs, gentle as it whispered. 

“Do not be afraid,” he said. “Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid.”

[winterscaptain]

take the day.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: a treat for the grown-ups in the room! this was inspired by an ask from many moons ago, and a couple of ideas submitted in the form. i hope you all enjoy, and as always, tell me what you think (and practice safe sex)! this fic contains explicit content and is 18+. minors do not interact or prepare to be blocked! also some tags aren’t working - please double check your urls below!

words: 2.8k warnings: smut (p in v penetration, [consentual & monogamous] unprotected sex, creampie, counter sex, floor sex, oral [reader receiving], very light soft dom!aaron),language, food mention

summary: “if you can’t laugh with your partner during sex, break up.” - my sister-in-law. au!november 2021.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

“Take the day. Nothing’s going on here and we don’t have any cases for once.” 

You tuck the phone under your chin as you pack the last of the kids’ lunches. “Really?”

Emily’s smile is audible through the phone. “Really. It’s Friday, and isn’t Hotch out today?” 

“Yeah, but mostly just to avoid the meetings with -” 

Just then, Jack rockets down the stairs, throws his backpack over his shoulder, and grabs his lunch off the counter. With a kiss to your cheek, he jets out the door with a quick, “Bye, Mom!” 

You blink rapidly, kind of taken aback by the abrupt nature of his departure. He can drive himself to school now, but he doesn’t always take advantage of it. 

“Sorry, Em. Jack just left for school like a damn tornado and I gotta get Isaac out of bed.”

She laughs. “No worries. Swing by my office when you drop the girls at preschool. I’ve got a couple of things for Aaron.” 

+++

When you return, the house is eerily quiet. 

You toe off your shoes and round the corner to the office with an armful of files in your hand. 

Unceremoniously, you drop them on his desk. “These are from Emily.” 

He huffs a laugh through his nose without looking up. “Thanks.” 

With a sly little smile, you leave him to his work. 

Padding across the hall to the master bedroom, you light the fireplace and replace your winter clothes with one of his dress shirts, two buttons holding it closed over the middle of your abdomen, and a pair of fuzzy socks. 

You’re grateful for the central heating in the house. You’d never be able to pull this off without it. 

After you sneak into the kitchen for a glass of water (you know - the ruse of usefulness), you return to him and place the water next to his left hand. He hardly looks up but mutters his thanks under his breath. 

You take your time leaving the office, just reaching the door when you hear, “Wait, hey. Whoa. Back up.” 

You don’t follow instructions, walking out of his office and into the kitchen, making play at putting lunch together. 

A pair of familiar hands slide up your thighs and underneath the shirt.

“Is this mine?” 

You hum in the affirmative. “Thought you’d like it. It looks good on you so I figured it would look alright on me.” 

“Uh huh. Yeah, well, if those were the rules I’d have to hand over my entire wardrobe.” Aaron spins you and presses you back into the island, your back arching as he crowds closer to you, his mouth hovering over your neck. “You look better in my clothes than I do.” 

You hum again, but your brain is too fuzzy to come up with a retort. He laves kisses over your neck, dropping to your collarbone and brushing his shirt off your shoulder. You decide in that moment to let go, relaxing back into the counter and giving him implicit permission to have his way with you. 

“Yeah?” He asks, feeling you sink back. 

You nod, bringing your hand to his hair and pulling him to your lips. “Yeah.” 

With a dark laugh, he turns you around again and snags your hands, pressing them to the cold granite countertop. You’re stretched taut, your legs already shaking with anticipation. 

His hands slide up your arms and over your back, the starched fabric of his dress shirt a delicious texture over your skin. He reaches your hips, his hands wandering under the hem of his shirt and hooking his fingers in the fabric of your underwear, practically tearing them over your ass and down your legs. You step out of them and he nudges them out of the way. 

He kicks your feet apart at the ankles, spreading your legs and forcing your back into a gentle arch. 

A perk of law enforcement training - some moves translate well in the bedroom. 

Or the kitchen. 

You hear him unbutton his jeans and free himself, not even pretending the last half-hour hasn’t been its own kind of foreplay. An empty house is practically an open invitation at this point. 

He runs the head of his cock through your folds, pressing against your clit with every pass. You drop your forehead to the countertop with a whine, letting the cool temperature soothe your heated skin. 

Aaron doesn’t quit rutting against your wetness, only just teasing your entrance before sliding up to your clit again. From experience, you know he could theoretically do this for hours, waiting for you to get desperate, squirmy, and whiney.

It’s working. You wiggle back against him, but his hands cover yours with a smack as he shushes you, his hips pressing yours flush against the edge of the counter. You’re sure the granite against you would hurt if it wasn’t so hot. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, low and soft in your ear. 

You swallow as his lips wander over your neck and shoulder. “I want you.” 

He hums in understanding, sucking bruises along the line of your shoulder blade. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Your answer is breathless, and you shove your fingers between his from underneath, holding on as best you can. 

“Do you know how good you look in my shirt and nothing else?”

You nod. 

“Do you know what it does to me when you look like that? My wife in my clothes?”

You don’t answer, knowing it’ll only pay off for you. He lets go of your hands and grips your hips, yanking you back toward him. It’s only an inch or so, but you can feel his cock pressed against you, the cold metal buttons against your ass, the coarse feeling of his jeans against the skin of your thighs. 

“Do you want me to show you what it does to me? What you do to me?” 

You swallow and nod, pressing your chest into the counter, bracing yourself. “Yes.”

He lines himself up with your entrance, plenty slick with your arousal - you’re practically dripping, soaking your thighs and the apex of your legs. 

Aaron slams into your heat, all the way to your cervix, with a searing kiss pressed to the middle of your back to smother his groan. You cry out from deep in your chest, drawing it out as he pulls back, dragging against your walls before filling you again, his hips audibly making contact with your ass. 

It’s rare you get a chance like this. Even at night, with the kids’ rooms upstairs, you have to be relatively quiet. Aaron, when he really lets go, can get loud, and so can you, with his encouragement. So, needless to say, your opportunities are few and far between. 

A steady stream of curses leave him through gritted teeth, watching his own hands pull you onto and push you off of his cock, bottoming out every time. 

You’re not even sure what noises you’re making, but there are a lot of them. You unstick your palms from the granite, reaching around to press your fingertips into the part of Aaron’s hip you can find. 

He leaves you then, falling out of your reach as he pulls out and turns you around again. 

Suddenly, you’re over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. 

How does he do that?

The smell of his body wash from his morning shower lingers in the air as he brings you into the bedroom, dropping to his knees on the soft rug in front of the lit fireplace. 

He supports your shoulders as he tips you backwards, sealing your lips in a searing kiss. Your hands are in his hair, more for the feeling of it than for support. 

The plush rug is warm from the fire, a stark contrast to the cool kitchen island. His weight on top of you seems to sink right into your bones, a feeling of safety and love soaking into your skin. 

Much to your chagrin, he’s still fully clothed, his pants loose around his hips and his shirt hiked up to his ribs. You find the hem and separate yourself from his mouth only long enough to yank it over his head and throw it toward the bed. 

He laughs into his next kisses, but it turns into a sigh as your hands run over his sides, pressing firmly into his waist, before dragging up his back and back into his hair. 

“Are you gonna let me go?” He asks against your mouth. 

You shake your head. “Don’t wanna.” 

He laughs, tipping your head back and peppering kisses to your jaw and neck. “Fine.” 

His kisses meander down, nosing a path past the collar and buttons of his shirt on his way to your chest. He pauses at your breasts, drawing patterns with his tongue until you’re taut and puckered under his touch. 

His hands follow his mouth, unbuttoning the two buttons you’d done up to play at modesty, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. He reaches your hips and scoops your legs onto his shoulders, kissing a path down the creases of your thighs. 

When he finally wraps his lips around your clit, your hips buck into him. He laughs, sending a buzz up your spine, and locks your hips in his hands, holding you securely to his mouth. 

You resist the urge to bring your hand to your face, letting your whimpers and groans leave you at full volume. One hand finds a home in his hair while the other claws at the carpet. He could probably eat you out in his sleep at this point, what with the way he knows the pace, the pattern, the pressure you like. He’s consistent but never boring, always managing to lull you into a dull hum of pleasure, your legs shaking under his hands, before pulling something that makes you jump and whine. 

His warm breath fans across your lower belly, keeping him centered as he flicks his tongue against your clit, dipping lower to your entrance, sliding back. He sucks your inner lips into his mouth, letting them go with obscene, wet pop before pulling your clit back into his mouth, feasting on you like a man starved. 

You clench around nothing, desperate for him to fill you with anything, anything to ease the want that courses through you. There might be a moment when you ask for something, but you’re not entirely sure. 

He chuckles, a dark and smug sound, but only continues until your center starts to throb, shocking your body with pleasure all the way to your fingertips. Aaron can feel it too, running his hand up your abdomen, reminding you to relax. 

You take the note, slowing your breath and relaxing into the floor. Your grip in Aaron’s hair doesn’t budge, tight and close to the root. 

He’s determined to get you off with his mouth alone, his fingers digging deeper into your hips to keep himself on track. 

The pulse of your walls continues until the tension crawls into the rest of your body. Your shoulders pull away from the rug as your body curls forward, your hips stuttering even under Aaron’s firm grip. Both of your hands wind into his hair and you fall over the edge, chanting his name. 

Your upper body twists, your cheek against the plush carpet as you convulse under his continuing ministrations. Your hips are still locked to the floor under his hands, braced by his shoulders and held by his mouth. You can feel his smile as he rides it out with you, backing off on the pressure as pleasure rolls through you in violent, overwhelming waves. 

Your jaw seems to be stuck open, your eyes wide as you stare into nothing. Aaron slows, the strokes of his tongue long and drawn-out against the length of your sex, before stopping entirely, pressing a kiss right above your clit. 

He crawls up your body, keeping some of his weight on you as he finds your lips again. You’re still boneless, catching your breath, shaking, and experiencing little shockwaves that irregularly catch your abs.

With that in mind, you can hardly kiss him back - instead, passively letting him smother you in affection, vaguely processing the fact you can taste yourself on his tongue. You wrap your ankles around his lower back, and he finally sheds his jeans and boxer briefs. 

“You good?” He asks. 

You nod. “Mhmm.” You reach between your bodies and stroke him a couple of times. “Gimme.” 

He laughs out loud then, kissing you soundly as he slides home. 

You whimper into his mouth, your overheated flesh alive with sensation as he rocks into you, nearly frictionless. He holds you tight, his hand splayed across your shoulders underneath the shirt you’re still (somehow) wearing. 

You let your mind wander a little, combing through Aaron’s hair with your fingers and tucking your face into his neck. 

It’s been ten years with him, almost exactly. You’re a far cry from the person you were then, and you think maybe Aaron is a different man, too. 

Not where it counts though. He’ll always be that chronically-stressed, endlessly-dedicated tightass who thinks too much and speaks too little. If anyone asked, he’s still the smartest, warmest man you know. Privately, you know he’s also the dumbest invulnerable moron who ever drew breath. 

That makes you laugh, and you wrap your arms further around him. He doesn’t stop, but cranes his neck to look at you. 

“What?”

You shake your head, bringing your hands to the sides of his face, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Just thinking about you.”

He laughs a little breathlessly, his head tilting sardonically to the side as he snaps his hips to yours, making you jump and clench around him. “I’d hope so.”

Flipping onto his back, he pulls you on top of him and has the audacity to wink at you. 

The pair of you giggle and laugh your way to your destination. His laughing smothers his curses as he cums, fucking up into you and holding you flush to him by the hips. You follow him by scant seconds, bracing yourself on his chest as you drag out your orgasm, enjoying the rush and the laughter and just being together. 

When you both completely run out of steam, you lift yourself off of him and tip sideways, landing flat on your back out on the rug. 

This poor thing has seen more use today than in its entire lifetime. 

You roll over after a second, propping your head on your elbow. Aaron mirrors you, meeting your eyes. 

“That was fun,” he says. 

You nod, bringing your hand to the graying hair at his temple. “Don’t get too many chances for this kind of fun anymore, huh?”

He sighs and pulls your hand from his hair, kissing your palm and folding your hand in his. “No, we don’t, but it’s…” He thinks for a moment. “It’s nice to appreciate it more than we used to.”

“Yeah.”

+++

You twist back and forth on the barstool, watching Aaron slice an apple and some strawberries. You both did away with the lunch idea, deciding it was too much work to put something together. 

It feels awfully like your first weekend together, the only differences are in the scenery. Even the wardrobe is similar. You’re in the shirt he started in, not much else, and he’s in his jeans, shirtless and barefoot. 

It’s nice to see him wandering around with a kind of carelessness. You’re not sure any of the little ones have seen him without a shirt, not for any real length of time that they would remember. He told you once that he doesn’t want to scare them. 

You reminded him that this is their normal, too. They’ve never known him without the scars so they’ll always know him with them. The little ones don’t know to be scared. 

Still, he’s careful. 

It’s a work in progress. 

“What were you thinking about before?” He asks, rounding the island. He goes to lean on it, but hesitates. “We have to wipe down the counter.”

You snort and take the plate from him, headed for the living room. “It’s been ten years and you’ve never changed.”

He rolls his eyes and follows you, sitting down in his chair so you can sit in his lap, the plate of fruit on the coffee table. “Is predictable so bad?”

“No,” you reply, your eyebrows raised. “I was just answering your question.”

He huffs a laugh down his nose. “You haven’t changed, either, for the record.”

“Is that a good thing?”

With a smile, he pulls you gently by the side of the head, tucking you under his chin. “It’s a very good thing.” Then, almost inaudibly -

“A great thing.”

+++

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[thechangeling]

She burns like rum on a fire

Why did I do this to myself ughhhhh?

So @adoravel-fenomeno and I were talking about Kit potentially getting into an abusive relationship given that he's statistically likely too given his roots. So now I give you this fic! Sorry. Kit is using he/him in this fic because he hasn't really gone on his gender quest yet.

The title is from Cherry Wine by Hozier. I reccomend you listen to Cherry Wine and Trauma by NF while reading this.

Cw: Mentions of physical and verbal abuse, abusive, controlling behavior, negative self talk and extreme denial. Also brief mention of blood.

2013

Don't cry.

Don't cry Kit told himself over and over inside his head as he tried to get a hold of his breathing. As he lay on his bed at 2 in the morning, desperately refreshing his conversation with Autumn.

Autumn or as his best friend Janessa liked to call her "the virus" was Kit's girlfriend. His very first. A mundane with the sight. They had been dating for a few months now. When they had first gotten together everything was amazing, it so it seemed.

They had some much in common and they had fun together. Autumn was hot, funny and charasmatic. She had this way of making him feel like the only person in the room. She showered him with gifts and complements that made Kit finally feel worthy for the first time in his life.

But as time went on things shifted. Autumn insisted on spending almost ever waking second with him. Kit didn't mind at first, he loved hanging out with her. But he missed his parents and his sister, and he knew they missed him too. Whenever they had family movie night, or they wanted Kit to watch Mina, Autumn threw a fit. She insisted that he was ignoring her.

She didn't want him seeing Janessa either, or Nessie as Kit called her for short. Autumn always insisted that she was plotting to steal Kit away from her, which was ridiculous but nothing could change Autumn's mind when she was in a mood. So Kit had found himself blowing Nessie off to hang out with Autumn and making excuses for it.

Kit always felt super guilty for making Autumn so upset. He tried to get out of his agreements if it to stop her from crying but sometimes Tessa and Jem wouldn't let him. It was frustrating when they didn't understand. She would rage for awhile, calling Kit stupid and worthless. Sometimes she would make comments about him being adopted, telling him that Tessa and Jem didn't really love him and they only saw him as a free babysitter for their real child.

She would make jokes about all kinds of things. How Kit wasn't a real shadowhunter, his weight, his past, his bisexuality, his ADHD. Kit knew that Autimn didn't really mean anything by it. It was nothing personal and she didn't really mean it. She loved him. And he loved her.

Tonight had been different though. His grades had taken a turn for the worst because he had been blowing of the tutoring sessions the school had payed for as a part of his accommodations. Because he had been spending that time with Autumn. Kit knew it was a bad idea to miss those, but his girlfriend needed him. She didn't have anybody else. She couldn't count on her parents like he could, and she didn't really have any friends.

But Kit was in big trouble. Tessa and Jem were mad. The school was mad. People were saying that Kit was ungrateful.

Ah yes because every disabled person should just bend down and kiss the feet of every person that deigns to give them what they're legally entitled to.

But Kit knew that he had really screwed up this time. He tried to explain to Autumn that he couldn't see her as often as he used to anymore because he needed to fix his grades. And she absolutely lost it. Which he had been expecting.

However what Kit hadn't been expecting this time was for her to hit him.

And she hit him hard. Punched him straight in the nose. And sure it wasn't that big of a deal. Kit was a shadowhunter and he was pretty much used to being hit. But he hadn't been expecting it.

And there was just so much blood.

Autumn of course instantly apologized profusely. She kissed him over and over and told him that she loved him and she didn't mean to. And Kit knew she was telling the truth but-

But he still felt a sinking feeling in his chest that he couldn't explain.

But Kit had applied an iratze, wiped off the blood, and now everything was as good as new. When he had arrived back home, his parents had noticed anything or asked him any questions.

Now he was lying awake at 2 in the morning, filled with guilt and worry as he waited for Autumn to text him back. He gnawed on his bottom lip anxiously as he tried not to over think things.

Maybe she was still mad at him? Was there something else Kit was supposed to say or do? Or maybe he should just leave her alone for awhile?

It was maddening.

Kit turned off his phone and threw it down in frustration, pulling his giant red and black flannel over his shoulders and curling in on himself. He felt strangely exhausted, but unable to sleep. His nose and left eye socket still throbbed a little despite the fact that they should be healed.

Kit thought about using another iratze but his steele was across the room and he couldn't bring himself to stand up to go get it.

God he really was pathetic. Maybe he deserved this. Tears welled up in Kit's eyes.

Don't cry. Don't cry.

This time Kit couldn't hold it back. So he let himself cry. Tears came streaming down his cheeks as he tried to muffle his sobs with his hand. Deep down he knew it was his fault. It was always his fault.

But with Autumn he had really tried. Sure he wasn't perfect but Kit really cared about her. And it wasn't good enough. He wasn't good enough.

Kit couldn't help but think of the last time he felt like this. The last time he was rejected. He had been careful about trying to keep all thoughts of Ty Blackthorn out of his head for awhile. Autumn was a good distraction, even when she was screaming obscenities at him. It was still a distraction.

Kit closed his eyes and conjured the memory of holding Ty up on the roof. If he squeezed his eyes tightly enough, Kit could still feel the softness of his hoodie and the slight tickle of Ty's dark hair against his skin. He could conjure the smell of Ty's skin and the way he had trembled slightly against Kit's body.

I should have kissed him. Kit mused, hugging himself tightly. Just once. Even if Ty had pushed him away in disgust, it would have been worth it. Just to know what it felt like.

Suddenly from the bottom of the bed, Kit's phone lit up with a call. He scrambled to grab it, thinking it was Autumn, but it was actually Janessa. Kit cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound normal as he answered the phone.

"Why are you calling me at 2 am Nessie?"

"The better question is why are you still awake at 2 am," she pointed out, sounding smug. "I'm a vampire. Creature of the night remember? It's kinda prime time for me Kit Kat."

Kit smiled as he felt the previous angst wash away. "Yeah fair enough. But still, why are you calling me?"

Kit heard her sigh into the phone. "Well honestly because this is probably the only time you're free now a days," she said spitefully. "You know thanks to she-who-must-not-be-named." Kit rolled his eyes.

"That's my girlfriend you're talking about, Janessa!" He snapped.

"Well your girlfriend's a total bitch!"

Normally Kit would argue with her and tell her that she was way off base. That Autumn wasn't so bad and that she was trying. That she loved him. But today he just couldn't.

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "We got into another fight tonight," he admitted. "Just a few hours ago actually."

"I'm sorry love," Janessa murmed. Nessie wasn't British. She was actually Canadian. But she had moved around the world with her previous band before settling in Devon and leaving them to go solo. She had picked up on some British expressions though.

"I wish you weren't going through this. But Kit, you gotta break up with her! She's bad news!"

Kit rested his face against the palm of his left hand. "I can't," he groaned.

Janessa let out a frustrated yell on the other end of the phone. "What the hell are you planning on doing Kit!? I mean are you just gonna wait into she hits you or what?" She spat.

"She already did," Kit responded instantly without missing a beat.

He gasped and slapped a hand to cover his mouth. Kit had no idea why he actually told her. Impulsivity maybe? Or maybe he just needed to get it out. But he instantly regretted it.

There was a long uncomfortable silence on the other end of the phone. Kit was just about to ask Janessa where she went when suddenly she spoke.

"I'm coming over."

Kit tried to protest but she hung up on him.

Before he had time to panic or scream or throw something, there was an aggressive tapping on his window. Of course. Janessa had vampire speed. He looked up to see Nessie perched on his windowsill looking solem.

Her long black curly hair was pulled into a high ponytail and she wore what by her standards was probably a casual outfit. A black long sleeved low cut crop top and white ripped skinny jeans tucked into thigh high heeled leather boots. And of course, she wore a full face of makeup. Even after the facial feminization surgery she was still a little insecure about going out without makeup on.

Nessie banged on his window again, more impatiently and Kit jumped up to let her in. She landed on his bedroom floor with the grace of a cat, making no sound. She stared at him silently with an expression that Kit found hard to decipher.

"Show me where," she whispered in that deep raspy voice of hers. She reached for his face and Kit let Janessa cradle his face with her hands and tried not to wince as her cold skin came into contact with his.

He shook his head. "No you won't see it, I put an iratze on it already. It's done." Janessa scoffed and stepped back.

"You know the damage isn't just skin deep Kit," she said pointedly. "No matter how much you want to pretend it is."

He glared at her. "Wow that's so insightful Nessie!," he said sarcastically. "What else you got?"

"Oh come on Kit you know I'm right," She hissed. "You have to end it!"

Kit shook his head. Why does she keep saying that?

"No. Why should I?" Kit retorted. "She loves me." He tried to sound as confident as he could, but truthfully he wasn't so sure anymore.

Autumn had gone above and beyond to make Kit feel loved and appreciated yo the point where she was almost obsessive. But she could also be cruel and spiteful. Kit had convinced himself that he should be happy with what he had because it was as good as he was gonna get.

And the sad part was that was still true.

"No she doesn't," Janessa breathed desperately. To Kit's horror, it looked like she was about to cry. Kit couldn't remember if he had ever seen her cry. Not once.

"Somebody who really loved you could never hurt you like that!" She protested shakily, her voice warbled as tears spilled down her face.

Kit could feel his tears returning at the sight of Nessie crying. He rushed towards her and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her neck. In the comfort of his best friend's embeace he allowed himself to finally sob. He cried for that broken niave part of himself that kept getting hurt.

She rested her chin on the top of his head, (she was taller then him,) and held him close. "Please promise me you will break up with her," Janessa begged.

"I just don't get it," Kit whispered against her skin. "I did everything right. I did everything I could." He blinked back tears. "Why doesn't she love me Nessie?"

He felt her shake against him. "I don't know Kit," she sobbed. "But I love you ok? I love you and your parents love you, and Mina loves you so much!"

Kit sighed, pulling back to wipe his tears. "I know, but what if I, you know-. What if I never find someone? Like romantically?"

Janessa studied him, raising her eyebrow. "Well do you need to find someone? Who is this arbitrary someone who can give you something a friendship can't?"

That's actually a good point.

"I mean," Nessie continued, crossing her arms and shifting her weight. "If you do end up in a relationship then cool, it's whatever. But the way I see it is you shouldn't focus all of your energy on looking because you're gonna end up missing out on some pretty cool stuff in the mean time." She smiled.

Kit thought about it. He knew logically Janessa had a point. But he just couldn't feel it. He was too depressed and defeated. And as ashamed as it made him, Kit still missed Autumn. He tried to smile along with Nessie but it must have looked weak because she looked concerned.

"Hey," she cooed, reaching for him.

"Can you sing to me Nessie?" He asked. Kit  felt a little pathetic but hopefully she wouldn't judge him.

She smiled lovingly at him. "Sure." Janessa took his hand and led him to his bed.

"Any requests?" She asked as she pulled off her boots and lay down on Kit's bed. He followed her, snuggling up against Nessie with his back to her.

"No not really," he murmered, closing his eyes. Kit was finally starting to feel how exhausted he really was.

Janessa wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, resting her head slightly against his shoulder. "Ok," she whispered very softly.

Kit heard her clear her throat softly before the sound of her breathy angelic alto filled his ears.

"I'm turning out the lights, to remember how to see. Till the renaissance takes place, Until a renaissance takes place, and resuscitates the color of paint and divinity."

Kit smiled sleepily at the sound of his enneagram song, something Janessa had introduced him to.

He yawned and let the sound of Nessie's voice lull him to sleep, putting all thoughts of Autumn behind him.

In my head Kit is like 5'4 and Janessa is 5'9. Originally I had her at 5'11 but I wanted her to be closer in height to Kit. Also did I name Kit's abusive girlfriend Autumn after my toxic controlling ex best friend? You bet I did!

Tag list: (you know the deal) @playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies   @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @clarys-heosphoros @queenlilith43 @arangiajoan @hardlymatters @the-wckd-powers @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @adoravel-fenomeno

[animeangel21]

Part 1- ryomen sukuna

"You're emotions will be your downfall young one, try to relax yourself." Gojo senseis words rang in my ear as I got laid out on my back

I settled in my small room placing my bracelets on my dresser before settling on my bed. I placed my head in my hands and tried to suppress my anger that tended to over flow with inconveniences like today. I used the bracelets that were circular to help me control my abilities and it worked till I took them off. Once they were off there was very little chance of me fully being able to control my cursed energy.

Gojo told me to go and relax while the other 3 went on a mission that wouldn't require me cause it wasn't too serious but if back up was needed I would need to stand on call, I could feel my palms already radiating a lot of energy so I went to my room and sat on the floor and began meditating.

After a while I felt better and let out a sigh of relaxation. I got up and removed my shirt standing in my sports bra and my joggers that I had worn with my uniform. I found it easier to move in, easier to fight in than a skirt like most of the females at jujutsu tech wore. And don't get me wrong I had my fair share of skirts for casual days at school but today just wasn't one of those days. I ran the water for my shower and grabbed a large shirt and some panties to sleep in and stripped off the rest of my clothes before stepping into the scorching hot water.I washed away all of today's dirt, grime, and tension and couldn't help but relax more into the hot stream of water. Once I finished washing my hair and body I stepped out and got dressed tossing my dirty uniform into my laundry bin and laying on my bed looking at my phone. Hm.. usually Yuji would text me by now, it's been several hours since the mission and I was beginning to worry.

Eventually I fell asleep not sure what time but when I woke up it was to someone entering my room.

The only other persons with a key were Yuji and kugisaki and I wasn't sure who it was.

"H-hello Yuji..k-kugisaki?" I stuttered trying to control my nerves. My room was dark as hell and I was petrified to step out of bed and light the candles I had on my bedside.

My bracelets had been on the other side of the room so it wasn't any use running for them.

"Mya it's me Yuji"

I felt the familiar energy of Yuji as he neared my room. Usually I could feel sukunas energy as well and I could say me n him have had our exchange of words and it was never pleasant, but something was off.

"I-I almost... didn't make it.." he said and he was looking down the whole time.

I threw the blankets off of me and crawled to The end of my bed and embraced him in a tight hug.

"God, you're okay. I know it's scary almost not making it back.. I gave you guys the key to my place cause sometimes I can't get out of my head after something like that either so you're gonna be okay and you're gonna get stronger from here on."

"You're right, I am gonna get stronger." He said and hugged me tighter and his chin rested on your shoulder. There was a brief silence and he took a couple deep breaths. Something definitely wasn't right, his hold on me got tighter and my nails dug into his back.

"Maybe I'll take you down with me." Another voice, a deeper , repulsive voice said in my ear cutting through the night silence

I attempted to pull away but sukuna laughed at my failed attempt. "Suprise to see me princess? I do play innocent quite well." He said and held me tighter into his chest I looked around nervously and could feel a cold sweat cover my body.

"What the hell do you want! What did you do to yuji?" I said and he chuckled pulling away but keeping me close.

"Nothing, the brat is fine.he's still breathing if that's what you're really concerned about." He smirked in my face. My blood started boiling the longer I stared at his stupid perfect face, the longer I was in his arms the angrier I got.

" don't look so happy princess." He said sarcastically.

I clenched my fist behind him cause my arms were still stuck there.

"Let me go and we can forget about our little encounter here. I'm not gonna hurt you unless you choose to go that route." I said as calmly as I could muster up.

"I'll let you go but you definitely won't forget about this encounter. I'll have my way with you,remember our last little conversation." He said and my eyes widened with fear.

——————flashy back time——————

After the mission and yuji having his heart ripped out his chest by sukuna, I had a couple of colorful words for him every time he showed up.

This time it had been me and him alone in a single room.

"You know, you're quite angry for such a small woman." He said and I glared at him in anger.

I looked over hoping that megumi or kugisaki would wake the fuck up and bust in to help or Gojo would show up before I'm killed or rip this fool limb by limb.

"Fuck off, I just want my friend back. That curse is already done for so what more do you want?" I said looking at him as he smirked down at me from the broken ledge on the wall.

"Don't look up without permission doll face wouldn't wanna punish you." My eyebrows furrowed together in confusion and he just fell infront of me and put his fingers together.

Before I could even think it was really just me and him now, nowhere to hide or run. I had to get outta here.

"Domain expansion, innate domain"

I was ready for anything, no matter how quick he was I was gonna stay in my feet ready for anything.

"So this is your form of punishment?quite shitty for the king of curses." I said looking up at him with a smirk.

He looked down at me bored but smirked.  "I could do much worse but I wouldn't wanna split your body in 7 pieces and keep you alive to feel the pain." Quicker than I could process he was behind me and tapped my shoulder and drug his nails down the nape of my neck.

"Boo!" He whispered and when I turned he lifted me off the ground by my neck.

"You're in my territory n-"

"Let her go sukuna" yujis voice sounded and I moved gathered the energy to grab sukunas wrist and I choked out the words.

"Release me" his hand involuntarily opened and I fell to the ground.

"Incredibly annoying you are, just when it was getting fun you show up." He quickly went to attack yuji and once I could breathe in enough oxygen I stood up and grabbed his wrist once again.

"Don't move" I said and he froze but only to look at me and smirk.

"Fine have it your way." He said loudly before he mumbled something to himself. He grabbed my face and his nail cut my lip deeply and as the blood dripped he swiped his thumb over my bottom lip licking it off.

"Don't you worry I'll have my way with you regardless of your feelings" he said and as he put his fingers together  and smirked at me. gojos voice rang in my head pulling me out of whatever the fuck this was.

"Damn that sorcerer." He muttered through gritted teeth before watching me closely.

"Till the next time we're alone princess" he smirked and with that I was held in megumis arms and gojo held yuji over his shoulder with one arm.

"Ahh mya welcome back, hopefully you didn't do something you would regret."

"Other than potentially signing my life over to the 1000 year old demon Inside of itadori yeah I'm fucking amazing" I said my voice laced with sarcasm.

"You didn't do anything sukuna is just a grumpy old man who likes to bother people a little too much. Yes you probably  found a way to antagonize him but I doubt he'll do anything infront of our faces." Kugisaki said and I glared at her as megumi put me down.

"Heh maybe he likes you" she said lowly and a deep blush spread across my face and I looked at her with wide eyes.

"DONT SAY STUFF LIKE THAT! Oh my god, now that sadistic fuck is gonna think he has the right to flirt  and soon enough I'll be dead." I said and walked with her.

He wasn't bad looking.. I know it sounds fucking bad saying a 1000 year old demon with a hawty body and some black tattoos and spiky pink hair is absolutely attractive but that would be one of my biggest secrets till I'm in the fucking grave.

2 nights later after the incident we All had a sleep over in yujis room watching shitty horror films and anime. By the time everyone had fallen asleep I was the the last one awake yuji on his bed, kugisaki on the floor infront of a couch and megumi was gone stating he wasn't about to sleep on anything in yujis room. I laid on the couch and drifted off into a deep sleep.

That night had been so embarrassing for me it wasn't even funny or relatively okay in any matter.

"So now you're in my dreams asshole.." I said and he smirked looking down on me from his throne of bones.

"You should show more respect to your elders princess, plus I'm not doing anything this is all you." He said and soon appeared infront of me and grabbed my face harshly. His sharp nails dug into my cheeks making me whine in pain.

"Oh I love those little sounds you make, I could ruin you alone just hearing that."

My legs trembled as he stared into my soul.

"Your blood is pumping I can practically feel it, hear it, I wanna taste it again. Maybe taste something else too while I'm at it." And my attempt to pull away failed as I fell backwards I landed on blood red silk sheets and a large comfy mattress.

What in the hell was going on!?

I had to muster up some energy to wake myself up but nothing worked.

"Darling relax" he said grabbing a sealed ribbon and tied my wrist together and suddenly my body was frozen and I could feel each and every one of his touches.

I could only fight this mentally but physically I was frozen.

"Agree to relax and take this and I'll take the seal off." He cockily said.

"Fine I agree" I growled under my breath.

There  was a burning or stinging sensation on my thigh and his face was extremely close to mine and his large hand gripped my small wrist as if they were just sticks.

"I'll be addressed as master to you." He said and the stinging sensation on my thigh faded into a pleasurable sting.

The fuck is going on?!

HES TRYNA FUCK ME!

He looked down at me and his large hand rested on my waist while the other pulled off my shorts.

I couldn't move my wrist still and huffed with annoyance.  His lips trailed from my ear down to my collarbone and he took in a deep breath.

" you smell delicious, hope you taste just as good" he said and his hand on my waist tightened.

"There's no running now princess." He smirked down at me and his sharp teeth sunk deeply into my neck.

I screamed in agony but his hand that ripped off my shorts slapped over my mouth and tears poured down my face.

His grip on my waist tightened significantly till it was painful.

"Hopefully I'm not a joke to you still, my punishment are no longer jokes are they princess?"

"N-no they're not" I stuttered from the pain and feeling of blood pouring from my neck.

"Wrong, how do you respond to me bitch!"  He said and his hand was squeezing my ribs tighter by the second.

I whined in pain and I could feel my body giving in and turning against me.

"N-no they're not master" I said lowly, and embarrassed.

"That's right" he said and raked his hand down my body to my privates.

The moment his fingers dipped inside my panties and he used one finger to rub my clit and spread the wetness that formed.

"To think you didn't want me, naughty girl." He mumbled. I whined in response and he laughed.

"Someone's desperate." He mumbled as one of his long, thick fingers slid inside me stretching me.

I wanted to grab his wrist or stop him in some way but I couldn't. I didn't move I couldn't,, I didnt resist him or the intrusive finger.

"S-stop" I stuttered patheticly.

"More you said? Anything for you darling"

"N-NO AGGHH" I screamed in pain as he thrusted another finger in harshly. Tears fell down my face as he looked down at me smirking.

I felt an odd feeling and when I looked down a mouth was on the palm of his hand and started to lap my wetness up.

His long tongue shot out his mouth as his face got closer to mine and he dragged it across my neck lapping up the blood that started to dry.

I let out a soft moan cussing at myself mentally for showing any sign of pleasure. His tongue dragged up my neck and licked away my tears making me shy away and turn my head from his touch.

"Tsk Tsk Tsk Cmon princess I like it when you cry makes me wanna corrupt that innocence even more" he said with a smirk and his lips dragged across my face to my ear.

His fingers were moving at an unbearable pace causing my eyes to roll back and ball my fist as I held in all the noises I wanted to let out so badly. I wasn't about to give in to this and let myself become vulnerable to him, but I already had. I let myself become vulnerable, his fingers were knuckle deep in me, his hand mouth was sucking and licking me as my wetness was dripping out of me onto the sheets.

I felt my stomach tighten and I clenched around his fingers signaling I was close to my relesase.

"Are you gonna cum on my fingers slut? You better beg for it the right fuckin way."

Fuck this is embarrassing. The last fucking thing and the last fucking person I wanna do this with is beg sukuna of all people.

I can't lie to myself and say I hadn't thought of sukuna dominating me but I'd never tell Anyone, I'll never tell them about the past 2 nights of me dreaming of the demon and waking up to soaked panties.

His hand removed itself from my waist and went to my neck and he grabbed onto it with such force and pushed me further into the bed under me.

"Say it" he demanded in a voice deeper and much more seductive.

"I- please, please, make me cum m-master" I said with a red face and my eyes shut from embarrassment.

"Now look me in the face, in my eyes while you cum on my fingers." He said squeezing my throat harder making it hard to breathe.

I could feel that knot in my stomach getting tighter and tighter and before I came my eyes slowly opened and all four red eyes above me were staring down at me. My legs shook and I clenched around his fingers as my orgasm rocked my body but I didn't enjoy it due to my lack of air.

"T-too tight" I choked out and my mouth fell open as I struggled to pull in any type of air.

"Gnight" was all he said before I faded into darkness and woke up.

I shot up and I was covered in a thin layer of sweat and saw everyone was asleep. I looked around the room and everyone was fast asleep, I could feel the wetness between my legs and as embarrassing as it was I had to get up and leave or I could not ditch my friends and stay till morning.

I placed my face in the palm of my hands before getting an idea. I looked over at my overnight bag and decided I'll just go commando till morning and make up some excuse to leave.

I got up and walked into the bathroom, this was feeling really embarrassing and I'm gonna live with this for the rest of my life.

After peeling off my underwear and cleaning myself off with a wet paper towel so I wouldn't feel sticky while I slept, I walked out and placed the underwear in my sweatpants pocket and walked over to my bag placing them inside and zipping it up.

When I turned around I could see the smaller eyes on yuji open up and he smirked at me. His eyes

Opened as well and the black marks appeared.

Oh No,no, no,NO!

"Hopefully you're stretched enough darling I won't be so gentle next time" he licked his fingers and with that he was gone and it was just yujis sleeping figure sprawled out on the bed.

Suddenly feeling very cold in this room I tip toed back under my large blanket on the couch and tried to fall back asleep.

—————————flashback over——————————

  I glared into his red eyes with nothing but anger. "Don't look so happy again princess?" He said getting in my personal space.

"Who? me? Happy to see you? Give me a damn good reason why I should be." I spat with a smirk on my face.

"I think you could vividly remember a reason to be so happy to see me. I Gave you the best damn orgasm of your life, on top of that in your sleep" he retorted as his arms loosened their grip on me and I was able to push him back hard enough to put distance between us.

"Fuck you, I couldn't stop that if I tried." I said looking away with a blush covering my cheeks.

"hard to believe when you were as wet as you were. Let's not forget whose in charge here either." He said and in a flash he was hovering over me and my body was being pushed into the mattress under me.

"You've been on the brats mind a lot and vulgar thoughts might I add. So I took an interest in you as well and actually made the initiative to get you." His grip never loosened on my wrist as he leaned in more. "We're bound one way or another. you get the best of both worlds till death due you part." He said smirking down at me.

"What the hell do you mean by bound and best of both worlds." I said and he bought his mouth closer to my neck and took in a deep breath.

"The brat has feelings for you, me and you we have our arrangements now. Once your soul leaves your body, once you're dead, you're mine and you'll be stuck with me in my domain." An image flashed in my head once he finished his last sentence and it was his stupid signature smirk with a hand around my throat holding me close, my back to his chest and we were seating on his throne.

"But I think you'll find out soon enough about " he bit down and I gasped loudly. I couldn't scream or make a sound. My mouth hung open and no sounds came out.

"Silent and obedient. Like a little bitch" he said and drug his tongue over the bleeding skin on my neck.

I could feel my body burning and the rage over flowing.

"I'll never be your bitch of all people." I said turning my head and whispering in his ear.

"I'd relax if I was you, I can handle angry people in a heartbeat." He growled pressing himself into my neck firmly.

"You swear you're the biggest thing out there but here's a reality check, you aren't shit and the real bitch here is you." I said loud and clear making him pull back and stare me down. He moved to sit back and rested his body weight on my thighs.I couldn't move my hands and when I looked up there were ribbons holding my wrist to the bed frame. With a flick of his wrist all the candles in my room were lit.

"You're a fool. I'm not gonna kill you yet, just teach you a lesson. I can deal with brats and bitches, you just happen to be both."  He ripped off itadoris top tossing the shreds elsewhere and I looked away flustered as I tried not to look at his perfectly sculpted body.

A hand grabbed my face harshly and I was met with his Ruby red eyes staring deep into my soul and his smirk widened.

"Don't look away if you enjoy the view so much" he said and I squirmed but his grip tightened and he tossed my head back harshly to hit my pillows.

Within less than a second my shirt was gone and I was left in my underwear which was beyond embarrassing.

" your arousal is strong,pitiful" he said running his large hand over my face and gave me an experimental slap on the cheek.

My eyes went wide and I tightened my fist. It was a shock of pain and burning pleasure you would feel from spanking but it felt different on the face.

He leaned forward connecting our lips and his long tongue pushed forward past my lips and into my mouth.then I finally kissed back not really having an option.

His tongue was dominating the make out session and I didn't even attempt to fight him back as I would most definitely make him even more mad than I already had.

He pulled back and two arms formed from under his original set of arms with sickening noises to go along with it.

His arms held him up while his second set of arms pulled my underwear off and tossed them elsewhere.

"You're soaked, now if you really want something let's see if you remember my name." He looked down at me with a piercing gaze.

I was too ashamed to meet his gaze. I was very aroused and there was no hiding that from the king of curses..

"Being Difficult I see. Don't worry I'll get it out of you sooner or later." One of his hands ran down my body from my breast to my belly button piercing and tugged on it lightly. I gasped and choked back an insult to the demon straddling my body.

His hand trailed lower and he smirked at me and I felt something warm and wet trail up my slit and I squirmed from his touch. I was ashamed with myself for feeling any type of pleasure and I couldn't even look at him.

Two of his fingers roughly pushed their way into me and I whined in embarrassment for finding pleasure in this,from him.

The  same sensation from before was back and before I had the chance to pull or squirm away from him one arm wrapped around my throat freezing me and causing my body to react.

"Someone liked that a lot, let's see how you react to

This" his voice rumbled deeply as I let another whine slip as his fingers moved slowly.

I couldn't turn my head but one of his arms grabbed a candle that was closest to my bed and once it was in my view my eyes went wide.

He slowly poured the hot wax onto my stomach and moved upwards pouring some on my breast making my breaths short. It suddenly was a lot harder to breathe as I felt the wax cooling on my burning skin.

I allowed a small moan to slip and his long tongue shot out his mouth and licked away a stray tear that fell down my face.

" seeing you cry makes me wanna corrupt you a little more. You're mostly innocent, pure almost." He said with a groan and used his knee to spread my legs a little more. He curled his thick fingers and they hit a spot in me that hasn't been explored

"I-oh fuck" I moaned again and my hips bucked into his fingers involuntarily my walls clenched.

"Now, What's my name?" He growled in my ear and his voice only made me me a lot wetter.

I still refused to say it, I wasn't about to call him master, or king, or DADDY.  It's not gonna fucking happen.

"G-go to hell" I moaned out making his grip on my neck harder than before.

He reached for another candle and I prepared myself for the burning sensation and felt it on my stomach again but it trailed lower. He poured it on my thighs and placed it next to the other and removed the hand from my neck and his fingers stilled inside of me and the tears in my eyes kept falling. I really wanted to cum, I really need to.

He looked down at me and chuckled.

"How pathetic, you look ravishing like this, at my mercy. But, you won't beg for me your body is telling me one thing but your mouth says nothing and your mind says it all" he morphed his body back and had two arms again.

"How bout I ask you nicely once more and the next time, ill just drill you into the mattress till your screaming it." His voice seemed to drop or get deeper but i was Lovin it. "What's my name princess?"

"S-sukuna....R-Ryōmen Sukuna" I said with a smirk and he frowned before he bit down on my lip harshly and I could feel the blood pour from my lip and down my cheek.

I smirked as he pulled away before snatching his as I pulled his bottom lip between my teeth watching his eyes go wide as I bit his right back drawing blood. His hand wrapped around my throat and he shoved me down into the pillow roughly.

"You little vixen, I'll have your head on a stake and fed to the hounds for that." He growled making me clench around nothing and my eyes roll back.

My release had been so close and he decided to fuck with that so I was gonna fuck with him but I wasn't aware that it would backfire so quickly.

"Or maybe I'll just take you here, how I want, with you chanting my name like it's a damn prayer"  he tightened his grip even more and I couldn't even claw at his wrist to stop.

I was practically shaking under him more with anticipation than fear. I didn't know if I should feel this way with him, if I should just let him do the things I've only thought about him doing to me, doing the things I've only dreamt of someone doing to me.

I could feel my stomach turning in the best way possible all while it was the worse, I was gonna be ruined.

"Gotta love virgins, you get so worked up so easily and it's fun to corrupt and break you" he said as I squirmed in a failed attempt to get away.

His fingers drug down my body and dipped into my folds again and watched as my juices covered them easily.

I hadn't opened my eyes due to the burning blush that covered my face from pure embarrassment. "Open your eyes darling, look at the mess this cunt made all for me and I'm not gonna ask nicely the second time." He said in a singing tone

I opened my eyes slowly and his fingers lingered infront of my mouth.

"Now open wide." He demanding and I turned my head away earning a disappointing growl from the deepest pit of sukunas throat. "Difficult fucking brat." He mumbled and harshly grabbed my jaw and pressed on the sides to forcefully pry my jaw open.

"Bite me and you won't see tommorow" his voice promising and hard as he forced his fingers into my mouth swirling them around my tongue and pulling them out.

He mumbled about how perfect my mouth was and how he wanted it wrapped around his cocks.

I'm sorry did this man just say COCKS..aS in more than 1....

"The more you act like a brat the more tempted i am to ruin both of these tight holes with both my cocks. So I would sit there and behave if I were you princess or don't if you wanna be ruined" he said removing his bottoms and pushing my knees to my chest in a breeding position with our faces mere inches apart.

"This slutty fucking cunt is so wet, I bet you wanted this didn't you?" He said rubbing the head of his cock against my clit and awaiting hole.

I couldn't reply I was at lost for words as small shocks of pleasure were sent up my spine from my core.

"I expect an ANSWER" he said slapping the absolute shit out of my thigh causing an unexpected moan to slip out my mouth.

"Fuck!y-yes" I admitted as he smirked proudly above me.

The red tip of his cock pushed into me and I instantly felt like I was being split in half  and the smirk on his face said he knew. "If you don't relax you'll bleed" he grunts out

He kept going till each and every inch was inside of me and the tears on my face were continuously replaced with fresh ones as they rolled down my neck.

Once he bottomed out he immediately pulled back out and back into me.

"G-god fuck please nghh- wait"

"I'll try to take it slow, once you start moaning like a whore I won't hold back." He licked the shell of my ear causing me to squirm Even more under his gaze.

The pain continued to spread to my stomach and cervix in the position I was in it wouldn't feel better anytime soon but as he thrusted slowly in and out of me it subsided into a pleasurable sting.

"Clench around me like that again, just like you did my fingers." I did as I was told and he pulled all the way out before slamming back into me brutally.

He kept that same brutal pace and I moaned loudly almost screaming but his hand covered my mouth as he manifested a mouth into his palm.

It shoved its tongue down my throat swallowing up my moans. "My perfect little slut. Your tight little cunt takes me so well" he growled and picked up

The pace making my eyes  roll into the back of my head.

He moved his hand and bought his face closer pressing his thumb to my bottom lip.

" open your mouth"

"W-why"

"You have no say so in what you do and don't wanna do" he said and forced my lips apart and grabbed my tongue watching my saliva drip out and coat his fingers.

"Such a wet, warm mouth." He groaned and gave me a hard thrust causing me to squeak.

Drool slipped out the corners of my mouth as his nail pierced my tongue drawing blood and causing it to pool in my throat and on his finger.

I clenched around him as he continued to fuck me harder with no remorse what so ever. The knot in my stomach tightened more as he started to hit that special spot in me over and over again.

"Open wide" he laughed and pulled my tongue harder and allowed his saliva to drip down his tongue and into my mouth onto my tongue.

Look, I was into some pretty kinky shit but when he let his saliva in my mouth I wanted to barf, better yet slap the shit out of him.

His fingers curled around my neck and the mouth he manifested sucked a harsh purple mark onto my throats a he fucked into me harder than before.

"Swallow"

And with that I did he released my tongue .I am..DISGUSTED. His hand squeezed my throat to feel me swallow and he released me pushing my legs into my chest further.

It was a spur of the moment dealio but I really wanted to cum and I couldn't if I didn't listen to this dumb fuck.

"P-please 'm gonna cum"

"Are you now? With whose permission doll face?" He smirked at me in a mocking manner.

His thrust never faltered as I pulled at the sealed ribbons around my wrist.

"Don't fight them it'll get tighter and snap your wrist, quit being stubborn and tell me my name, maybe I'll consider not fucking you till you pass out."

I clenched around him as my legs started to cramp due to the position I was in.

"Oh? Maybe you want me to do that. Ruin your little cunt then move on to your ass, or fuck that warm throat till you're choking and clawing at me to stop"

"Please I-I needa cum" I pathetically begged the 1000 year old sex god above me.

Even listening to the squelching sounds coming from my body I was embarrassed I was outright shocked.

The way his nails were digging into the soft flesh of my thighs was almost enough to push me over but what really pushed me over to my first orgasm was when he pushed me deeper into the mattress by my throat and had my ankles in his other hand pushing me down further as he fucked me raw. My body was bent in a way I couldn't imagine and he was loving every second till he pressed down on my tummy with a third arm.

"I'm practically in your guts, now be a good girl and cum so I can fuck it back in you while I cum"

He gave my throat one more squeeze and I released all over him with a loud moan that he cut off by shoving his tongue down my throat. His grip tightened on my ankles and I could feel the way he thrusted deeply and every inch of him twitching inside of me.

I let my tears fall freely and I failed to take in enough air while his tongue was down my throat.

"Dirty dirty girl creaming all over your masters cock look at the fuckin mess you made" he said finally releasing my legs and pulling his cock out and grabbing a wad of my hair to pull my face down and look at his still very much hard erection covered from tip to base in cum.

"Now, I bet you'll say my name." He

He grabbed my wrist that were previously tied up and held them in his large hands.

He flipped me onto my stomach and I groaned at the pain in my abdomen and soreness that set in my legs.

Everything was on display for him my cum covered thighs, my cunt that was dripping with not only my own arousal but his as well.

He went all in the moment he pushed my back to arch and my hips upwards in the air.

"You're soaked and your bed is too bet you want more dont ya? That burning little fire in you finally got a taste of something that's not your fingers stuffed in that cunt.something much bigger" he stopped and pulled out dragging the head up and down my slit collecting the juices that dared to fall on my bed.

"I'll keep giving it to you but just say my name and I'll fuck you so good mmhmmm so fucking good." He slowly pushed himself in driving me absolutely nuts.

My nails dug into the pillow that he pinned my wrist to.

"Y-yes yes I want more..fuck.." my face burned and he ran his other hand down my back to smooth over my ass.

I waited for an impact or anything but I only felt his dick sliding into me slowly.

" my name pretty girl, tell me my name let me hear it loud and clear, let me hear it while you cry." He pushed my hips back onto him causing a moan to fall from my swelled lips.

"Fuck m-master" it was muffled by the pillows but it put a smirk on sukunas face and hissed his dick very much hard.

I could feel his dick twitch in me and I could feel something else poking at me and I internally screamed as his other dick manifested just as big probably thicker than the other but maybe it was my fucked out head.

"Louder" he growled slamming his hips into me.

"OH FUCK MASTER PLEASE" I screamed with the side of my face on the pillow. My mouth was opened and drool fell onto my pillow but it was cut short as his fingers pushed down on my tongue but i Was gonna rile him up some more.

I swirled my tongue around his fingers and sucked on them.

" if you wanted to suck a lil dick you should've said so" the mouth on his palm voiced.

This made him shove those fingers further down my throat and when I didn't gag he let out a dark chuckle.

"Can't wait for you to take this cock down your throat" his loud voice echoed off the walls on the room.

His pace only seemed to get faster and harder making me moan with each stroke around his soaked fingers.

"Don't scream too loud darling someone might think I'm killing you instead of your pussy." He took his coated fingers out of my mouth so my moans soon became muffled by the pillow under me as he forcefully turned my head.

Sukuna had an internal debate with his own desires and what would keep you alive tomorrow.

Those fingers were either gonna stretch her other hole or he was gonna spank the brat out of her till her ass was raw and bleeding.

Maybe just maybe he'd hurt his ego and he'll save the anal play For your next hook up..

His bruising thrust continued and his anger from his little internal battle seemed to boil over to his hips causing these bruising thrust to pound my cervix.

"Fuck it DAMN IT" he said and slapped the fuck out my ass jolting my body forward. He was quick to grab my hips and pull my body back onto his cock.

"MASTER PLEASE" I cried into the pillow with a moan.

"Sorry can't hear you" he grunted loudly

He slapped me again much harsher than the last one and the tears fell out of my eyes but the burn was one that shouldn't have been so pleasant and it only fed that fire in me causing my body to take it and my walls fluttered and clenched around sukuna.

"Enjoying it much?" His sarcasm dripped like venom.

He smacked my ass again and gripped the flesh and pulled it as I moaned into the pillow while I cried my poor soul into it.

" you should thank me, you finally called me by my name and you came" he moved his other hand from my wrist to the back of my neck and pulled my face up and hauled his movements to lean forward and examine my face. In the process of doing so his cock sunk all the way into me and deeper.

"I said thank me you slut" he growled in my ear and spanked me again with a lot more force.

This pulled a whine from the deepest part of my throat and my eyes to squeeze shut.

[mypoisonedvine]

ok but what if the whole week y/n’s mom has been hovering over them and tagging along to their car rides. not because she suspects something but she’s just in a good mood and “want to spend time with my family” all the while she’s cockblocking them. reader finally snaps and goes to the bathroom where lee is showering or the garage where he’s working on the car and is like “i need you to fuck me” which he absolutely does, but the fact that this time around the mom can walk in at any moment not only makes them be extra careful, but it also makes it that much hotter

The three Bodeckers all had vastly different ideas on the meaning of ‘family bonding time.’

To you, it meant casual activities surrounding shared interests, like an afternoon spent fishing or a morning preparing breakfast together.  To your mother, it meant long road trips and weekend vacations and dinners without TV, radio, or newspapers to distract from each other; constant togetherness, with barely enough privacy to breathe.  To your stepfather, it meant coming up with some excuse to be alone with you so he could rail you like it was the end of the world.

A week of your mother’s idea of ‘family bonding’ had you warming up to Lee’s interpretation.

See, you’d gotten a bit spoiled by Lee’s sexual appetite, rarely ever having to get yourself off to relieve tension since he was always just around the corner and more than willing to relentlessly pleasure you.  But since Monday you’d been stuck in either the back of the patrol car or the twin bed in a motel room, which meant no time or place for either.  Not only that, but the backseat of the patrol car only brought back memories that made it harder than ever to keep your hands to yourself (or rather, off of yourself); sleeping in a small room with him just a few feet away was so tempting, despite the impossibility of anything happening with your mother sleeping beside him.  Still, you couldn’t help but fantasize about just crawling into bed and riding that thick cock, his hands grabbing your waist and pulling you down, his stubble scratching your face as he whispered all kinds of filthy praise in your ear...

“Hello?  Are you listening to me?” your mother whined, snapping you out of your daydream.

“Huh?” you mumbled, sitting up from where you had been resting your head on the inside of the window.

“I said we’re about to get to our hotel for the night,” she repeated, “and tomorrow we’re going on a hike.”

“Mama, I don’t wanna hike tomorrow,” you groaned.  “I thought this vacation was supposed to be about relaxing, not exercising.”

“Walking is good for your figure,” she defended.

“We didn’t need to drive all the way out here to walk!” you announced, gesturing out as if to evoke the general environment that you were currently riding through.  “There’s plenty of walking to do at home!”

“But now we’re immersed in nature!” 

“Nature...?” you repeated, furrowing your brow in confusion.  “Mama, are you under the impression that Knockemstiff is some kind of urban environment?  We live in the fucking woods!”

Lee laughed, but stopped when his wife shot him a glare.

“I don’t like that tone or that language,” she frowned.  “I hope your attitude has improved by the morning or you might miss out on all the fun I have planned.”

You rolled your eyes but she seemed to relent, and you kicked your legs up onto the seats beside you to rest your eyes for the rest of the drive.  You were jostled from your nap some time later when the car stopped; opening your eyes, you sat up and looked out the window and the hotel in front of you.  It was actually sort of cute, in a dilapidated sort of way, but you’d seen worse so far on this nightmare of a family vacation.

Lee unloaded everyone’s bags (and by everyone’s bags, I mean your one bag, Lee’s one bag, and your mother’s six bags) while you and your mother went to the front desk to get the key.  You would’ve killed even just for those few moments alone with him, but she had a sixth sense for keeping you two apart lately; it didn’t feel so much like she wanted you away from him, though, and more like she was trying to get to know you better herself.  You weren’t sure what was motivating this sudden desire for a fun mother-daughter relationship after a lifetime of her treating you mostly like a nuisance, but the gestures of friendship were wholly unwelcome.

“Did you get all the bags, honey?” she asked Lee as she stepped back him to start unlocking the door.  He just looked exhausted as you began to giggle at the absurdity of her asking him that when he was standing among a comically-large pile of suitcases and travel bags.

“Dear god let’s hope so,” Lee grumbled, but she didn’t seem to notice as she became preoccupied with the room in front of her once the door had swung open.

“Oh, this won’t do!” she frowned.  

“It’s got a bed, doesn’t it?” Lee rolled his eyes.  “And a shower, right?  I need a shower.”

“We paid for a lakeview room, but all I can see out this window is trees!  We’re changing rooms,” she announced.

“No no, I can see the lake,” you protested, desperate to not have to do this process all over again.

“I can’t see it,” she maintained, leaning in closer to the window and squinting.

“No, look, Ma, it’s right there!  It’s behind the trees... you just have to look through the trees.”

“I can’t see through trees,” she shook her head.  “I’m going to get us a new room.”

You sighed, knowing you couldn’t change her mind.

“Can I at least take my shower first?” Lee requested.

“Sure, you shower while I go sort this out.  Darling,” she turned her attention to you, “would you look on this map and pick out a hiking trail for us to go on tomorrow?”

Your eyes widened a bit at that.  “You mean I’m staying here?”

“Unless you would rather come with me to the front desk—”

“No,” you interrupted quickly, “no, I’ll stay here and pick a trail.”

She waved as she stepped out, shutting the door behind her.  You were on Lee like white on rice, throwing yourself into his arms and kissing him aggressively.

“How long do you think she’s gonna be gone?” he mumbled against your lips as his hands roamed over your back and grabbed your ass.

“Long enough for you to fuck me,” you decided.  “Let’s get in the shower.”

“You need to pick a trail—”

You glanced at the map in your hand for a moment, picking out the first one you saw before tossing it aside.  “We’re doing the Yellow Springs trail.”

“But that says it’s expert difficulty,” Lee began to protest before being distracted but your hand reaching down and rubbing his cock through his slacks.  He was already half-hard and growing quickly in your palm.  “Fuck, you’re insatiable,” he growled.  

The two of you stumbled to the bathroom and stripped with lightning speed, hopping into the shower’s stream of water before it was even hot.  It wasn’t quite big enough for two people, but you fit just fine with him pressing you against the cold tiled wall as he fucked you.  

“Daddy,” you whimpered as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “harder, please, I need to come.”

“She could be back any minute,” he reminded you with a gravelly voice.

“Then we’d better make it quick,” you smiled.  He pushed your legs up a little higher and it made his cock push even deeper into you— so deep you nearly screamed.  His hand clamped down over your mouth as he continued, only hitting deeper and harder even as tears pricked the corners of your eyes from the intensity.

“Is this what you wanted, princess?  Is this what you were thinking about all day?” 

You nodded, and he growled approvingly.  

“Me too,” he grinned, “wanted to touch ya so bad I thought I’d die.  But nothin’ can keep me away from you for very long— fuck, ‘m close.”

You were close, too, but you figured he knew that with the way your walls were tightening and rippling as pangs of intense pleasure wracked your body.  The water was hot but it was nothing compared to the heat of him inside you, especially as he came, coating your walls with his thick seed and making your eyes roll back into your head.

“Fuck,” he groaned deeply, “been waitin’ so long to do that.”

He relaxed the grip of his hand on your mouth, giving you a better chance to catch your breath.  He slowly pulled out and allowed you to lower your legs, though he didn’t let you go until you were sure you wouldn’t fall over.  You moaned softly as you felt his come leak out and run down your thighs, instantly washed away by the water.

Slipping out of the shower wordlessly, you dried off and dressed with a few minutes to spare before your mother returned.  When he emerged in a towel while you felt yourself blushing uncontrollably, she explained to both of you that she couldn’t get a new room but was able to get some of her money (also known as Lee’s money) back.

“How was your shower, honey?” she asked him once she’d finished her tangent.

“Best I’ve ever had,” he answered simply.