#did everybody else already cotton onto this

[capnmachete]

Peaky Blinders lightbulb moment

AAAAAHHH Always wondered why Tommy treats Finn and Michael differently than the other Shelbies.... S2E3: Arthur: "Kids these days..." Tommy: "They didn't fight, so they're different. They stay kids." Finn and Michael were too young to enlist and didn't serve during WW1 -- Tommy will forever see them as kids and not men.

[stray-kaz]

Double The Bounty : a Roronoa Zoro x f!reader fic part one

Summary: There's only one room left at the inn and Zoro and a female bounty hunter grudgingly agree to share for the night.

A/N: Reader has a name, for the sake of ease and of the story. It makes sense, trust me.

Soft Zoro.

For 18+ only, thanks.

Tired but running on adrenaline, you dragged the heavy sack into the rundown inn, immediately clocking the only other person besides the keeper, standing on either side of the desk. He turned at the sound of the door closing, his eyes landing on the sack you were double handing inside. His gaze seemed to move in slow motion, but the mind behind it was quick.

"There's only one room left, kid" the innkeeper told you, glancing warily at your full sack and the almost identical one sitting at the feet of the dark eyed stranger.

You bristled, weariness sloughing off you like water.

"First, not a kid. Second, I have enough Berry to pay you and him" you retorted.

"Look. I already told you there's only the one room left" the man repeated, sounding about as tired as you were feeling. "Unless you wanna share, find someplace else."

Before the other hunter, because you knew that's what he was, could say a word, you did it for him. You were too tired to look elsewhere, and you wanted a decently soft bed to sleep in for the night. If that meant sleeping next to him, that would do.

"Fine" you said abruptly, striding forward to the desk and slapping down a fistful of notes. "I'll share with him. I just want to go to sleep."

The dark eyed man turned to you with a glower, his jaw set tight.

"I don't even know your name" he growled. "What makes you think I would be happy to share a bed with you?"

You stuck out your right hand and, grudgingly, he shook it.

"Monkey D. Isabel" you said coolly. "Now you know my name, Roronoa Zoro. And as for why you would be happy to share a bed with me? I'm much softer company than the floor."

His eyebrows rose barely, but you still saw.

"Your pretty face is famous" you told him, offering him a tight, shallow bow.

The innkeeper glanced between the two of you, not at all amused by the exchange. He slid the money off the desk into his palm and shoved a key at you.

"Get gone, pirate hunters" he muttered. "And don't make a mess."

He eyed Zoro narrowly as he said it; he just moved aside to allow you to lead the way to the lone room, the old stairs creaking under your boots and his. Your weighted sacks thumped hard on the staircase and along the hallway floor. Zoro glanced down at yours.

"You good with those?" he asked, eyes shifting to settle on your matching hip revolvers.

Your chin tipped up in defiance and pride.

"About as good as you are with those blades, Roronoa."

"Everybody calls me Zoro" he muttered.

You glanced up at him as you pushed the key into the lock and turned it, leaning on the sticky door to open it under your shoulder.

"I'm not everybody" you told him.

"Noted."

He dropped his sack against the door and you followed suit, before throwing yourself down on the edge of the bed and yanking your boots off. Zoro paid you no mind until you unslung your gun belt from around your hips and draped it over the door handle and started to shimmy out of your pants, the supple leather attempting to cling to your curves as you dragged them off.

He blinked his dark eyes at you, still saying nothing, his gaze dropping to drag over the flare of your hips and the lacy cotton cupping you between your thighs. But as your hands rose to the silver zip on your shirt, he found his tongue.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded, his voice hot and eyes hotter still.

You eyed him closely, amusement and concern warring in your head. You settled for sarcasm.

"You can sleep with your swords if you prefer, Roronoa, but I dislike sleeping fully dressed."

Before he could respond, you swiftly unzipped your shirt and tossed it onto the end of the bed with your pants, leaving you in your underwear and black corset, the fabric clinging to you almost as firmly as Zoro's heavy gaze.

You wandered into the tiny bathroom and splashed lukewarm water on your face, rubbing your eyes clear of the water and blinking at your reflection in the rust spotted mirror.

Suddenly, you heard Zoro's voice muttering something in the main room, and you ducked your head out to see him.

"Sorry, did you say something?" you asked, curious in spite of yourself.

He nodded, one hand rubbing down the back of his neck.

"Yeah. I did. The swords only come off when the clothes come off, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I can sleep sitting up, Isabel."

Your body started a little at the sound of your name in his mouth, before your mind could react. You smiled at him.

"When the clothes come off, huh? I am not afraid. What, are you going commando or something?"

You had been teasing, but the way he went silent as he simply stared at you told you more than you had expected. His long fingers wrapped around the hilt of the most beautiful sword you had ever seen, clenching tightly as he ducked his head a little.

"Today, yes" he said quietly.

"Ah" you murmured, thinking on your feet.

Finally, you shrugged.

"Well, okay. I promise I don't bite."

His eyes widened slightly. Then he gestured loosely towards you.

"You could at least turn around" he mumbled.

You circled the bed and climbed in on the left, rolling over to show him your back, your knees pulled up a little. With the side of your head pressed into the pillow, you could still hear as Zoro slowly undressed, starting with his triplicate swords. He eased them down beside the bed, within his reach for when he lay down, and stripped off his shirt, letting it drop onto the floor.

You closed your eyes, nuzzled deeper into the pillow, and tried not to hear as he loosed the clasp on his pants and kicked off his boots before sliding them down and off over his feet. You wrapped your arms around yourself tightly as the covers lifted and the mattress dipped beneath his weight.

"How long have you been hunting for?"

The quiet voice surprised you and you turned partway to see him, the slope of the covers revealing smooth collarbones you tried not to stare at.

"About four years" you replied, just as quietly.

The room was still light enough to see in, but the slowly moving shadows inspired soft speech.

"You left your home?"

You snorted, and were surprised to feel the slow brush of fingertips down the back of your neck, your hair lifted away by stronger knuckles than yours.

"More like I was kicked out. My grandfather is not the sentimental type. I didn't want to leave my brother with him, but I didn't have much choice. He was just a kid. But dear old Grandpa decided I was old enough to fend for myself."

A pause, then...

"This isn't what you want?"

You shrugged.

"It doesn't matter anyway" you muttered. "Life is what it is."

"It does matter. What do you want? What's your dream?"

You sighed, unconsciously pushing your head back into his touch, his slender fingers wrapping carefully around your hair.

"I don't dream, Roronoa" you told him quietly. "I only sleep."

"Are you sure?"

Warm breath ghosted over the bare skin of your shoulders and you shivered, Zoro intently watching from behind you. If you were indifferent to him, goosebumps wouldn't be breaking out on your skin.

"Yes" you mumbled.

"Maybe you just don't remember them."

You arched your back and tucked your hands down between your clamped legs, turning your body into a living knot.

"My dream is boring" you admitted at last, the words a whisper in the air over you both.

"I'll be the judge of that, Izzy."

You squeezed your eyes shut tight at the sound of the nickname, a common enough one but unfamiliar to you.

"I want to settle. I want to stay in one place. I want to feel safe."

The last was spoken so quietly, he only just heard it. As the silence drew on, you shook your head to yourself and your hair fell past your shoulder, revealing a tiny golden flower inked onto the back of it. Without thinking, Zoro pushed forward and kissed it, his lips rubbing gently over the petals, the tip of his tongue touching the center.

You yelped quietly and shifted your position on impact, your chest pressing into the mattress, but your hips pushing back, finding nothing there. But then a strong hand curled over your hip and drew you slowly backwards.

"Hey" Zoro murmured. "You can look at me. I don't bite either."

You flipped onto your back, looking cautiously up at him. You didn't know Roronoa Zoro from any other pirate hunter, you could each kill the other with such ease it was almost laughable, but you didn't want to kill him. The thought made you feel sick, but the heat in his dark eyes made your heart pound for an entirely different reason.

"I can't help you settle. And I can't help you to stay in one place. But I can help you feel safe" he said low, his voice surprisingly gentle.

Your throat caught and he tilted his head to one side as he studied you carefully.

"Would you like me to help you feel safe?"

The seconds dragged on in the warm air between you, until you finally nodded.

"Yes" you said softly. "I'd like you to do that."

Zoro nodded and tugged gently at you until you settled one leg over his bare hip, the tension in your thigh pulling you in closer to him. You felt his breath shake over your hair as you moved to share his pillow, your foreheads almost touching. You hoped he couldn't hear your racing heart as he wrapped an arm around your waist, his forearm warm and solid against your bare skin.

You pressed even closer, pretending you didn't hear his sharp inhale and couldn't feel quiet pants brushing over your lips. You closed your eyes, hoping the intensity would abate, praying he would remain where he was, holding you, and not let go.

You fell asleep slowly to the warm sensation of his fingers stroking up and down your spine.

You woke with the sense of midnight all around you, eyes heavy and closed, but slowly aware of the building heat in your belly, the heat that had no doubt woken you up. Well, that and the gentle insistent nudging against the lace of your underwear.

You forced your eyes open all the way and blinked groggily, slowly bringing Zoro into shadowy focus. His eyes were closed, his lashes charcoal smudges across his cheekbones, his nose nearly brushing yours. A tiny furrow had formed between his eyebrows and his lips were slightly parted.

You tried to scoot away, but his arm still around your waist increased its grip and pulled you back, dragging your core up against him and forcing a soft whimper out between your lips. You set a firm hand on his chest and tried to push him back, but instead, you only felt his heart thrumming beneath your palm, too fast for a sleeping man.

You glanced back to his face to see his eyes were open, blacker than the shadows and fixed wholly on you. You could have drowned in the inky depths, your heart slamming just as hard as his behind your ribs.

"You're supposed to be asleep" he muttered, his voice thick and raspy with sleep.

You cleared your own throat, doing your best to ignore the traitorous throb between your legs at the sound of him.

"So are you" you replied, not endeavoring to move away again.

"So why aren't you?"

You sighed and shifted in his hold to lay on your back, staring at the ceiling. You debated lying and then decided to just tell him the truth. What harm, right?

"I can't sleep in this state, Roronoa Zoro."

He blinked, his hand slowly sliding round to rest over your hip, the pad of his thumb digging into your flesh.

"What state is that?" he mumbled, apparently oblivious to his own arousal.

"Turned on" you grumbled, not looking at him.

Air escaped him in a quiet rush.

"Sorry" he murmured.

You huffed, almost amused.

"Not your fault. Well...not really, anyway. It's okay. Go back to sleep, Roronoa."

To emphasise your point, you reached over and halfheartedly shoved at his shoulder. He gripped your hand and pressed his lips to the pulse in your wrist. You gasped in surprise as he sucked lightly on the fine skin, his dark adjusted eyes fixed on the matching pulse pounding in the hollow of your throat.

"If not my fault, then whose? Let me help you sleep, Izzy."

You bit your lip, stifling another soft sound as the covers moved, rising like a wave over his shoulders as he shifted on top of you, mattress dipping as he knelt between your knees, gently prying them apart with warm hands and lowering his mouth over your belly button, softness giving way slightly beneath his lips.

You held your breath as he slowly dragged cotton and lace down your legs, hips rising unconsciously to allow him to do so, but when you felt warm breath brush over you, you snapped back to yourself and slid a gentle palm against his jaw just as it loosed a little. Zoro glanced up at your face, his eyes burning in the darkness.

"I can help" he told you. "Let me help."

"Kiss me first."

The covers slid onto the floor in a messy heap as he surged over you, swallowing your gasp as his tip brushed your heat. His kiss was electric, the heat of a summer storm rushing in your veins. He was gentler than you expected, his lips dragging slowly against yours, stoking a fervor within you.

He was a complete stranger to you, other than his reputation, but Roronoa Zoro kissed like he knew you, like a fight to the death, one he knew he would win.

You grasped for his shoulders, something to hold onto, something to keep you grounded. He groaned when you dug your fingernails in and you snatched at that opportunity to find his tongue, drawing a wilder sound out of his throat and a frantic twist of his hips, rutting against you and brushing by your screaming bundle of nerves.

He wrenched his head back, breathing heavily, and looked down to where he pressed against you, leaking slightly onto your skin. When he looked at you again, his teeth were digging into his bottom lip and his eyes were wide. You had no doubt that you looked just as wrecked.

Before you could push at him, or pull at him, or ask why he'd stopped, he lowered his head and kissed down the center of your corset bra, the trail of his burning lips making you shiver as they reached your skin once more and he shifted back down the bed, littering the skin around your belly button with fluttery kisses.

He drew lower still, breathing gentle warm air over you, then caught sight of one of your hands fisting the sheet beneath your body. He turned his head to see the other doing the exact same. He reached for one of them and placed it with care on the back of his head, feeling your fingers immediately curl into the short hair.

When his lips brushed over you the first time, your fingers flexed and you whimpered. The second time, when his tongue peeked out, your other hand joined the first, desperate for an anchor as he set you adrift. He kissed you firmly, his hands pressing down on your wiggling hips. When that didn't work, he crossed his arms over your stomach like twin iron bands and held you down that way.

You were sure you looked quite a picture, were anyone to see: legs kicked over his broad shoulders, heated face as he licked into you and imprisoned by two ropy arms with the sole purpose of keeping you still so he didn't have to stop again.

Zoro's nose brushed your clit and your thighs closed against his ears, muffling your noises. He didn't like that much, but he couldn't do anything about it when his hands were busy elsewhere. He thought he could hear his name, each letter stretched and hollowed out of your throat, half sobbed half screamed at the ceiling.

He smiled, too close, and you jerked at the faint scrape of his teeth against you.

"Sorry" he mumbled, and dragged his tongue up in apology, kissing at your livewire.

You twitched, panting above him, as he slowly pulled his arms back, sliding his hands down your sides. He gently grasped your thighs and tugged, withdrawing his head, but left your trembling knees hooked over his shoulders. He stroked your stomach, soothing the skin as you gradually came back to yourself, your eyes opening and focusing on him again.

You felt your cheeks reheat all over again at the sight of his smile, damp and victorious.

"Hey, pretty girl" Zoro murmured. "Tired yet?"

With a sound that seemed halfway between a growl and a groan, you pulled him back up to you and wrapped your legs around his waist, canting your eager hips up to meet him. He hissed softly when his now oversensitive tip pushed against your heat, fighting the urge to let his eyes roll back.

Slick and waiting, there was no resistance as he sank inside.

Your back arched instantly, and he took that opportunity to pull a covered nipple into his mouth and suck hard through the material, sending a hot bolt of lightning right down to where you were joined with him. You sank back to the mattress and he followed you, dragging his lips up the front of your throat. He kissed your upturned chin and followed that line up to your lips. You kissed him back hungrily, locking your ankles at the small of his back, desperate for him to do something.

You broke from him for air and he dropped his head to kiss over your collarbone. He scraped his teeth down and you shifted under him, whining through your nose.

Zoro paused and looked up at you, questioning. What he saw kicked his heart into gear.

"Please" you said softly, your eyes pleading, your pupils twin eclipses.

He didn't need to be asked twice. He started slow, dragging in and out of you, tilting his head and listening to every sound he eked out of you with every pump of his hips. You grabbed at his shoulders, eliciting harsh breaths from him as your fingernails pressed in tightly. His scalp ached a little from your earlier double fisted grip on his hair, and he knew that now his shoulders were going to be sore, too. But he couldn't quite bring himself to care. You sounded too damn good.

And then you freed one hand to press onto the back of his head, tilting your chin at the same time so you could kiss him again, eager and moaning as your legs slowly climbed higher and higher up his sides.

Your mind spun with the reality of what was happening, an out of control tilt-a-whirl. Falling asleep, waking up, taking your leave; that was the plan. The plan was not to accept one climax from a pirate hunter you knew by name only, and then have him well on his way to offering you another.

You felt a light pinch at the juncture between your hip and thigh and opened your eyes to find Zoro staring at you, sweat beading on his forehead and eyes glazed and dark.

"Hey" he panted. "Outta your head, please. That's not where I am."

You felt him swell inside you and tossed your head back into the pillow, groaning, overwhelmed.

"You're everywhere!" you retorted, lifting a shaky hand to drag down over your face.

He thrust gently, teasing, and your hand dropped to rest over your heart; it thumped painfully against your palm, a bird desperate for freedom.

"Everywhere" Zoro repeated, quietly. "That's good, isn't it?"

You panted at the ceiling, but said nothing. Until you felt his hand gently grasp the side of your face so you would look at him. There was something unsure in his gaze you hadn't yet seen.

"Am I...making you feel good?" he asked, gone perfectly still.

Your own eyes widened and you nodded frantically, pushing up on your elbows to lick past his defensive bottom lip.

"Flip" you mumbled against his lips, withdrawing just barely.

"What?"

You pushed pointedly at his shoulder until he latched onto your meaning and rolled, pulling you with him to settle over his hips. They pressed bluntly against your soft inner thighs and you sighed quietly at the steady impact.

Zoro gazed up at you, his hands now resting on your knees.

"What you want that for?" he asked, confused. "You felt good, right? I was, ah. Fu - hmm."

You had just started to move, pressing your hands down firmly on his chest, your hips rolling, inner walls clamping against him at just how good he felt under you. At this angle, you knew your finish would be staved off, but watching his face swept the care for it out of your mind. His nostrils flared as he breathed hard through his nose, his eyes hooded onyx as he watched you riding him.

You rose up a little, strengthened your position on your knees and sank back down. You gasped when Zoro's blunt fingernails dug into your thighs, urging you to move faster. His lips were parted, but no sound issued from between them. The desire seized you to shake his control. You leaned down and kissed him fiercely, pressing your chest to his as you rocked against him. His hips jumped and you groaned in his ear as you felt him brush the spot nobody ever touched.

"Do that again" you whispered, and buried your face in the side of his neck.

You had wanted to shake his control, but instead he had shaken yours all over again. You felt him repeat the motion and your own hips surged to meet his, both your hands grabbing onto his shoulders for dear life. Zoro's hands pressed onto your back, slipping beneath the back of your bra, as he urged you down, again and again. He thrust up to meet you each time, determination and desire in every breath.

You pressed together, steadily becoming more and more frantic, breathing hard in the midnight room. Suddenly, Zoro grabbed your hips and hauled you down tightly, holding you snugly against him while he pulsed inside you, groaning quietly into your ear. You nudged against his cheek until he turned his head to drag his trembling lips over yours.

"Sorry" he mumbled.

You shook your head.

"What for?"

"You didn't get to finish."

You shrugged and nuzzled closer.

"But I did before. It's okay, Roronoa. I have no complaints about what just occurred."

He eased you onto your side and slowly withdrew from your body, immediately shuffling back to toss an arm over your waist.

"You're beautiful, you know" he said quietly.

You felt your face grow warm and pressed it against his shoulder. You tucked your body close in against his, your eyes slowly flickering closed. His breathing evened out and his grasp on your hip loosened. It didn't take long until you were asleep, too.

Zoro's nose and closed eyes twitched as the sun speared through the gap in the thin curtains, stretching glowing fingers across his face and bare upper body. He twisted away from it, unconsciously reaching for your body and the extra warmth it provided him. His hands touched nothing, grasped at empty, cool sheets.

His eyes opened wide and he sat up quickly, scanning the bed and the similarly empty room. Heedless of his nakedness, he checked the bathroom; it, too, was emptied of all signs of you. Suddenly, the back of his neck prickled and he turned slowly to survey the room again.

His dark gaze locked onto the empty space in front of the closed door. Your revolvers and belt were gone, as was your bounty sack, and his own. You had left his swords behind, however; no clear use for those, he guessed.

Zoro dressed slowly and made his way down the stairs to the front desk. The innkeeper glanced up at and his eyes narrowed when he realised who it was.

"I had no fewer than four noise complaints about you and the girl last night" he growled.

Zoro looked at him blankly.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

The older man scowled hard at him, to no avail. Zoro was not cowed.

"Just keep your midnight romps quieter...sir."

Zoro raised his eyebrows and snorted.

"I never plan on seeing that woman again. Too loud. Too deceitful."

He turned his back and walked away, but as he did, he looped your vocal responses through his mind on a one track. He really didn't want to forget the sound of his name all around the room as he tipped you over that cliff.

Even if he never saw you again or got to hear it again, he didn't want to lose it.

Eleven months later...

The bright sun burned down on Roronoa Zoro as he hung from a leaning cross in the Marine yard, alone. Or, alone until a wild haired boy appeared in front of him and he tipped his head back to see who. His heart lurched into his throat and his stomach somersaulted as he stared into a pair of familiar eyes.

But they were set in the wrong face.

"Who are you?" he groused, even though he had a pretty good guess.

"I'm Monkey D. Luffy and I'm going to be king of the pirates!"

Zoro shook his head, unable to wipe his narrow smile off completely.

"Oh, yeah? Monkey D., huh? I slept with your sister."

The boy's mouth tightened slightly and skewed to one side before he pursed his lips and expelled a slow puff of air.

"Well, Isabel must have good taste in men. You're a very good fighter."

Tagging: @writingmysanity @elizabeth-karenina

[peppermint-toads]

𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 im halfway through the new campaign and had to write something before i exploded. so yes take heed there is actual cod plot in this 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 simon "ghost" riley x female reader, ghost x female reader, slight non-con but ghost doesn’t mean it that way he just has a hard time expressing his little feelings, ghost is not nice, slight wound-play but not rly, piv sex, slapping, light choking, blood, knife wound, actual cod plot, post al mazrah mission, your callsign is vermin bc ghost thinks you are annoying, 1.5k wc 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 you do something stupid so ghost hate-fucks you

“Simon! I already fucking apologized. How many times do you want me to say it? We weren’t moving fast enough and I just thought—”

“You weren’t thinking!”

“We could’ve gotten him.”

“You ran into an active air raid, and if I hadn't pulled you back you would be dead, Vermin.”

In that moment, you seemed to remember that Ghost did in fact save you from your own stupidity. You inhaled a sharp breath, wincing as your lungs shakily filled and pressed against your bruised ribs. You could feel the shallow knife wound in your side stretch and rub against the white gauze wrapped around your waist with every move you made. 

“Lazwell would have Hassan by now if you wouldn’t have stopped me.” You murmured, feeling your eyes sting with tears as Ghost finally turned his back to you. The sound of his heavy boots hitting the old wood floor of the safe house halted, and his head turned to the left hauntingly slowly. He crossed the room in about three swift steps, his face about an inch away from yours. His gloved fingers pinched the fat of your cheeks together.

“Next time I’ll let you fucking die.”

You couldn’t help the yelp that caught in your throat when he released your face. You stumbled backwards, catching yourself on the worn desk in front of the fireplace. 

As soon as you had compromised the mission, Ghost dragged you back to the transport with his forearms locked underneath your armpits. The medics tended your wounds as soon as you landed at the base in Austria. 

You glared up at him, one hand still grasping the desk and the other your side where blood started seeping through your bandages and thin white tank top. 

“You’re a dick, Simon.” 

“And you’re a selfish pain in my ass, everybody’s ass.”

And then you rose to your full height again, grunting as you lifted one hand and pulled it back to strike his cheek, but his fingers curled harshly around your wrist, and he was pushing your hand behind your back and pulling the bottom half of his mask down to shove his lips onto yours. 

It was barely even a kiss, it was like he was just trying to smash his face onto yours as hard as he could, teeth, tongue, all of it. His hand left your wrist, quickly finding the button to your pants and nearly ripping it off. Then he was shoving them down your thighs and pulling you over to the couch. 

“Simon, what the fuck?”

“Shut up.”

He knelt down with one knee pressed into the couch between your thighs, then his face was back on yours and his hands were bunching up your top above your chest. 

“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, groping and squeezing your tits with his massive palms. And it wasn’t comfortable. He had saved your life, you destroyed his mission, and now you owed him. 

He shoved you down by your shoulder, and your head thumped against the arm of the couch. His fingers cupped your cunt over your military issued white, cotton panties and you both groaned. All of your physical pain was taken over by something else, taken over by him. Completely. And you’d let him do anything he wanted. 

“Are you sorry?” He asked through gritted teeth, lowering himself down on top of you, arms steady on either side of your head. His cock was hard and straining against his pants, you could already feel the heat of it on your pussy.

He sat up on his haunches, pulling his pants down enough to free his aching dick, the elastic band of his matching white, cotton boxers pushing up against the underside of his balls.  

Your panties were soon hooked around your knees, and your calves were being smushed up against his chest. The discomfort of it all faded as soon as you felt his cock and his precum slide against your soaked pussy. 

He slid himself up and down, up and down until you were keening, begging him for nothing with cries of his name. 

“Simon, Simon please.” 

The head of his dick caught against your fluttering hole, slowly notching inside. His head fell back, and you could tell his jaw was hung open slightly by the way his mask stretched.

His thumb caressed your cheek where he had violently grabbed it only a few minutes ago. The soothing strokes did nothing to distract you from his immediately brutal pace. You watched your feet dangle helplessly by his ears with every punch to your cervix, your eyes never daring to drift to his. 

“Are you sorry?”

“Fuck—I already, already said I’m sorry—Jesus!” You hiccuped. 

Simon snarled, staring down at you with unfeeling eyes while his hand drifted to your waist. 

“Simon? What are you doing? Don’t—”

You cried out as you felt his fingers press into your would, your head snapping forward and then immediately falling back against the couch. It stung. It stung and you mewled, trying to conceal your pathetic noises by shoving your face into the back of the couch. You blindly tried to push his hand away but you were no match for his strength. 

His lips were pink and swollen, partly covered by the top and bottom of his mask. You couldn’t help the way you tried to scoot yourself down the couch, get closer and closer to his punishing thrusts. Your entire body burned with shame and humiliation as you squirmed for him. You were openly sobbing as he split you open.

“Don’t disobey my orders ever again.”

You swore you heard his voice crack. 

“Don’t—Don’t do it again.” He was pleading with you. His hand was wrapped around your throat after forcing you to look at him again, his thumb stroking circles on your neck. No matter how harsh he was, some part of him was always subconsciously soothing you. Even on the transport to Austria, you felt his hand latched onto your vest the entire time. 

“I won’t,” you choked. “I won’t, Simon, I promise.”

He leaned down to rest his forehead on yours, breathing in the same air as you. You saw his eyes flutter closed and felt his hips stutter upwards. 

“Simon I’m gonna—”

“Yeah.”

Then you were arching your chest into his and your stomach was convulsing, cunt squeezing his cock so perfectly. He sighed into your mouth, his thrusts becoming shorter as he pumped his cum deep into your warmth. 

For a moment it was just you and Simon, inhaling deeply with each other. Then you sighed out in pain, whimpering softly, and Simon realized what he’d just done to you. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. 

⁂

“Hold this up.” You did, holding the end of your shirt just above the slash in your side. He wordlessly pulled the gauze off your body, carefully peeling off the cotton pads underneath. 

He left the room for a minute, returning with a med kit that must've been stashed somewhere in the house. 

He returned to his place on the couch and flipped open the lid, returning to his silent work. 

Every pained noise you made chipped away at his very soul, and he couldn’t help but blame himself. He wasn’t supposed to care like that. About you or anybody else. 

He abandoned his own mission just to make sure you were safe. He was lucky Soap managed to get the rest of the task force out of Al Mazrah safely, albeit without Hassan. He’d never done anything like that before, but when he saw you running towards the fallout he knew he’d follow you anywhere. 

“The others will be here soon.” You said, and he nodded. 

“We have to be in Mexico tomorrow. You’ll stay with me tonight.”

“Okay.” You agreed quietly as he finished rewrapping your side and packed up the med kit. 

“Come with me.”

You trailed down the hall after him to one of the rooms. There was one small, metal bed frame in the center of it, and you sat on the edge of it watching him. 

You watched Simon’s back as he dug through his backpack that he had slung to the floor. 

“Here,” he shoved one of his shirts towards you to replace your own blood-soaked one.

You changed quickly, watching him undress down to his boxers and black ribbed tank top. He climbed into the small bed with you, coaxing you back to lie down with him, both of you too exhausted to exchange any words. 

Simon held you close to his chest, this time careful to avoid touching your ribs and side. You were happy to finally feel clean and dry, everything that happened that day coming flooding back to you and you sobbed. Completely overwhelmed with emotion, you cried into his shirt while he shushed you softly. You fell asleep with his arms around you and tear stains on your cheeks.

[harryhoney-bee]

Could you 12 from the fluff list? And please make Y/N a lil cheeky 😂❤️

Thankyou 🌞

Me and my husband, we're sticking together

Hii, I think you meant the smut list, hehe

Summary: Harry and Y/n have a quickie before going out.

Warning: unprotected sex

Word count: 1.5k

"If you don't change out of those shorts and into some pants I'll have them by lunch," Harry said playfully, making eye contact through the mirror.

The couple had agreed to go to a breakfast party to commemorate Y/n's co-worker's job promotion, one that Harry happens to be very jealous of. She wasn't dumb, she knew that nick - the guy - would stare her up and down whenever she walked in a room, she just didn't care enough about him, very differently than Harry.

"Yeah, of course, I'll do that," she said rolling her eyes, " I don't know why you worry about him so much, I've already told you he looks at everyone like that."

Harry hugged her from behind, kissing her neck and slightly sucking on it, "I'm not everybody's husband, am I?"

"You just care too much with things that shouldn't matter," the girl said, feeling the bulge of his thigh on her behind, "Harry we don't have time."

Y/n knew what he wanted, his body language saying everything. Harry had a weird obsession with having sex before they had to go out somewhere, he was just very persuasive.

"Please, just a quickie, ya look good right now," his hand went below her shirt, feeling her tits since she wasn't wearing a bra, "always so pretty sweetheart."

She looked at him in the mirror, his tongue and teeth playing with the skin of her neck while his fingers were playing with her nipples, his other hand pressing her lower back into his hips.

"You need to be very fast, though," she breathed.

The man didn't need anything else, he quickly took her shirt off and took her body in his arms, sitting on the bed while she sat on his lap. His mouth promptly found her nipple, sucking on it gently while his other hand pinched the other one, making the girl moan and lean into him.

"Such a good pair of tits, makes me want to love on you all day," he whispered on her chest, going back to the breasts and leaving hickeys on the skin.

The girl started to hump against his hips, the rough fabric of her shorts creating amazing friction on her clit. Harry noticed her actions, taking a hold of her hips, making her rub herself even more. "Feeling good, baby? You like to hump on my cock like that?"

Y/n nodded, hugging her arms on his neck, picking up her pace, "want you to cum on my cock, though. What about we take those clothes out so I can make you feel good?"

"Alright, H," she said breathlessly, swiftly getting off his lap and stripping out of her shorts, wearing only a cotton white underwear, which already had a wet spot on it.

"Come on," he said, so she could stand close to him, her cunt right on his face, given the height of the bed. Harry held her love handles, bringing his mouth over her clothed pussy, his tongue lapping the fabric and feeling her arousal.

"So ready for me sweetheart. I know you said to be quick, but I just want to spend something eating you, alright?" He barely waited for her answer, his lips were already attaching to her clit.

"Right there Harry," she said, pulling his hair.

He took the inside of her thighs and spread her legs so he could have more space, "you taste amazing, baby." He murmured, taking the fabric of her underwear to the side and finally coming in contact with her bare pussy.

His tongue was playing with her wetness, trying to feel all of her with the tip of his tongue. The girl was a moaning mess, his tongue making her feel as if she was in heaven.

Harry abruptly took his mouth off of her, which made the girl complain, "Hey, no whining," he said harshly to her, grabbing her jaw, "you behave or else I’ll be the only one cumming, understand? Now, take your panties and get on the bed on your knees."

Y/n did what he told her, getting on the soft mattress on her knees, head turned to the headboard. She felt the bed dip behind her, moments later Harry was kissing her neck eagerly, "I hope that stupid boy that works with you can see all the hickey on your skin, 'cus you're my wife, my pretty hot wife."

"Just yours Harry, no one else's," she shivered, holding his arms to gain balance.

"Got you all naked for me on my bed, how lucky did I get to have someone like you? So fucking beautiful," his raspy voice met her ears, "why don't you get on all four for me? Need to fuck your cunt, gonna fill you up."

Harry watched the girl get in position, he promptly found a pillow to put under her hip, so she could be more comfortable. Her hole was already dripping just waiting for him.

He opened his zipper and pulled himself out of his boxers just enough so he could still be dressed, his cock was already hard, dripping pre-cum. He took two of his fingers, sinking them on her opening, making the girl moan, "liking that, baby? It's just my fingers yet." The man continued to fingering her, her walls contracting against his fingers while he was teasing himself, stroking his shaft with his hand.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, all spread open for your husband," he jerked, "While I'm here, fully clothed.

He picked up his pace with his hand, he wanted to be on the verge of cumming, so they could be quick and get at the stupid breakfast on time. His fingers were also working fast on her cunt, his thumb hitting her clit.

"H, I'm gonna cum, please," Y/n begged.

With that, Harry took his fingers off her, also freeing his cock from his hold. "You're only gonna cum on my cock, love."

The man got his body closer to her ass, being right in front of her openings, he took the head of his dick and applied pressure on her opening, just teasing and spreading her wetness. He made up and down movements around her slit, as the girl underneath him would whine, wanting to be fucked.

When he felt like he couldn't do it anymore, he slammed himself on her cunt, staying deep inside her, giving the girl some time to adjust, "how is it? Is my cock filling you up?" He asked, looking for compliments.

"Yeah, feel you so deep, please fuck me," she cried, with her head buried on the pillow.

"Shh, don't worry, gonna give it to you real good," his hips started working on her roughly, feeling the warmth of her cunt.

He was pounding inside his wife, holding to her hips with one hand while the other was playing with her clit, trying to make her orgasm as fast as she could. Harry lent into her body, whispering to her ear, "need you to cum, we need to leave in less than 10 minutes," he let his body fall into hers, only one hand holding him from crushing her body.

His cock was barely leaving her pussy with the thrusts duo to how deep he was. She was pulsing around him, she was close. "Cum for your husband, Y/n, go on."

With the pleasure of his finger on her clit the girl released, rolling her eyes as the pleasure took control of her body, which was shaking from the orgasm and from her husband thrust, who was trying to achieve his pleasure.

"Fuck baby, I’m almost there," he growled, kissing her cheek, concentrating on the movements of his hips.

The pounding was desperate, with barely any rhythm, he held her body against his back, jerking his hips frantically into her, until he felt a pressure on his balls, cum leaving the tip on his cock and hitting her cervix right after.

He moaned in her ear, kissing her back and trying to be as silent as possible as he made lazy movements, trying to get all of his cum to go inside her.

The girl was moaning sweetly, being overstimulated by him. After a few moments Harry finally decided to pull out, holding onto her hips and watching his cum dripping out of her, he took his fingers and put it back into her pussy, "gonna take your underwear, love" he said after tucking himself into his boxers and pants.

He placed the underwear on the leg holes and helped her get dressed, a new spot forming from having his cum, "want you to keep me inside, alright? When we get home I’m gonna love on you all night," he kissed her, giving the girl her shirt and her shorts, "see, told I would have them by lunch," he teasingly said.

Hii guys, please like, reblog, and give feedback here (I hope the link works) I'm very tired now, so byee, hope you guys enjoy it, see you tomorrow <3

[thebadbatch]

Hey! Could I get a wrecker x gn reader with prompts 7 & 10 from the fluff section? Where the reader is having trouble sleeping after a mission so wrecker helps them by going on a late night adventure to cheer them up? If that makes sense? ☺️ thank you!!

A/N: I hope you enjoy this! I can definitely see this happening canon but with Omega! Wrecker is such a sweetheart i'd love to be friends with him omg…

Wrecker x Gn!Reader 

Plot After another tough Mission you struggle to sleep but that is something your close friend Wrecker can help with through a little adventure.

Warnings: Difficulty to go back to sleep but very fluffy and eventually you manage to sleep!

---------------------

Midnight Mantell

"Fall back!" Hunter's voice sliced through the already buzzing air, blaster shots lingering in the air and flying past your skin. With a deep breath you continued to fire your duo blasters, stepping backwards besides Wrecker and doing everything within your power to avoid the heated fire. You don't really remember how you all exactly got into this messy situation as everything felt like a blur. Blasting down a couple more clankers you turned and made a run for the Havoc Marauder with the rest of the batch who had continued to throw bullers behind them. "Tech, get the ship online and straight to Ord Mantell." With a quick nod, Tech ran ahead and began to power on its systems. That all too familiar hum of the attack shuttle always filled you with a feeling of safety and comfort as it always meant you were all about to leave together and safe. Turning to fire some more bullets, one of theirs shot against your cheek making you wince and throw yourself back into the ship. You were used to close calls but you swore they were getting more dangerous per mission. Sighing at the sting against your cheek, you fired a few more bullets as everybody else made it onto the Marauder safely and signalling for the ramp to be closed and to take off for our next destination. Laying on the flour completely worn out, Wrecker joined you after removing his signature helmet.

"That was definitely something new." You laughed a little and nodded whilst re-attaching your blaster back against your armour. 

"Why is it always us that get sent into traps?" You asked, sighing and finally being able to capture your breath once again. The ship finally lit up with the colour of the stars in hyperspace, Ord Mantell just a short while away. Crosshair was leaning against the wall nearby, cleaning his firepuncher as soon as he could. 

"Because we always need the credits." He sighed, putting a toothpick back between his lips. Wrecker laughed lightly before sitting up, 

"Why don't we get some rest before Ord Mantell? You look like you need it." Rolling your eyes you dragged yourself upwards with a light huff, pulling yourself toward the bunks. 

"Thanks Wrecker!" Playful sarcasm rang throughout your tone as you reached your bunk, his laugh making you smile to yourself as you allowed the cool and comforting texture of the blankets to greet you. Closing your eyes, sleep greeted you almost immediately - thoughts of the mission still lurking in your head. You definitely needed this and by the time you woke up, you were all, sure to be at Ord Mantell. 

Once your eyes opened, you rubbed them gently and began to make your way into the cockpit a little worried you missed landing which you did. Looking around the room you noticed it was just you and the planet lay within the darkness of night. What were you supposed to do now? There was definitely not a chance you could fall back to sleep now especially with the dreams you had about the mission and the sting against your cheek. Moving to the side, you began to fumble around with the Med kit and grabbing a single bacta wipe to place against your cheek which just made you hiss a little at the harsher stinging until it settled down. Footsteps soon accompanied you along with a gentle voice, 

"Hey y/n, aren't ya sleepin'?" You smiled gently at his voice before turning around to face him. 

"Nah I can't get back to sleep. I'm sorry I slept through landing!" You grinned slightly toward him. "I trust it was a smooth landing as always?" Your playful tone made him chuckle a little before he began to help apply a light patch of bacta over your cheek. 

"Oh yeah, completely." Gently patting your shoulder he gave you a light smile in return to yours. "Hey, why don't we go out for a little? It might help ya sleep." Tilting your head at him you began to put the Med kit away with a light laugh. 

"Are you suggesting we sneak out to view Ord Mantell?" He just nodded at you, gesturing toward the ramp. 

"Why not? Not like they're gonna miss us, they're out like a light - even Hunter." Your response was just to let down the ramp whilst keeping your gaze trained on Wrecker. 

"Just remember this is your idea so you better take the fall if they wake up earlier." Grabbing his blaster he walked out with you, the cool night air instantly hitting your face as your eyes became glued upon the city lights before you. You could even hear some faint music from the various bars and clubs being carried over to you by the wind. Stepping forward Wrecker followed you whilst rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Where do you think we should go?" With a light laugh you pulled him by his arm, taking you both further away and closer into the city. 

"I've got some spare credits, why don't we grab a couple of things? Kinda like midnight snacks." His face soon turned into a state of confusion at your words. 

"Midnight snacks?" He paused for a moment in thought, "What're they?" 

"They're just treats you have late at night! Come on, it'll be fun." Gently tugging him further along, you both finally reached the city's paths which were still buzzing even at this hour of the night. Pushing past a few people, you both approached the market stalls, many of which were selling a variety of mouth-watering food and a selection of sweeter treats. Rolling your eyes over the colourful selections you hummed lightly, "Have you got a favourite treat?" He replied without hesitation, 

"Mantell mix!" Your eyes fell upon the purple toned treat, instantly grabbing two boxes of the kind and paying the kind twi'lek who seemed pretty pleased yet confused with your purchase. Passing the box to Wrecker, you clung to your own and began to walk back out of the city with him all while embracing the cotton textured breeze that greeted your skin. Warily you took a bite of the sweet treat and instantly grinned ear-to-ear.

"How come I've never tried this before?" You asked, beginning to eat a handful whilst Wrecker did the same. "This is brilliant!" He laughed at your enthusiasm as you both allowed your legs to take you both elsewhere. 

"I have it all the time, we should do this more often!" You just nodded until you allowed your eyes to trail to the sky above you, thousands of stars littering the sky with the slightest hint of a golden sunrise starting to take over the night sky. 

"We should! Let's go eat these back at the Marauder just in case." Wrecker agreed pretty quickly and you both made your way back into the ship's warmth. Upon arrival, you both shut the ramp behind you and lounged around in the pilot's seats laughing and dropping the occasional Mantall mix upon the floor. Eventually you had both managed to drift back into slumber and once the rest of the ship had woken up, Tech wasn't really pleased at the mess. It was definitely worth it though and a loving memory with a close friend you'd keep forever

[0lympia]

“so this is where it begins” katsuki bakugo

part two to this

 summary: katsuki bakugo is more patient than he seems, and izuku midoriya isn’t as determined as he thought he was. 

warnings: some angst mostly fluff, some fem!reader bits (i tried my best), the ending that could have been different but it isn’t and that’s okay, life is weird, and so are feelings

Katsuki Bakugo is a patient man, and even though he’s brash and foul-mouthed, he doesn’t mind waiting if it’s you that he’s waiting on. He’s waited for you since the day he’d first met you, really met you. He’d been waiting since the second day of high school, when you’d kicked everybody’s asses in the battle trials. And he wondered if he could really wait that long when you came oh-so close to beating him during the Sports Festival in your first year. He learned he’d have to. Deku had beaten him to the punch, and Katsuki Bakugo decided that if anybody or anything was worth waiting for, it was you.

And after almost four years, he doesn’t have to wait anymore.

You look stunning, and he wonders why you look so nervous even after living with him for six months in the little apartment the two of you had rented. He’d asked himself so many times why he tortured himself and waited for you, but he doesn’t wonder why anymore.

“Do I look alright?” You ask, like it’s even a question, and Katsuki has to take a moment to stare at you. To take you in.

“Baby, you’re brilliant,” Katsuki says, and it comes out like a whisper. He’d waited so long for this, for you, and now he has you. He has you right in front of him, and he can’t help himself from pulling you into a kiss so fervent and passionate that you knew nobody had ever kissed you quite like he did.

And you forget that there’d ever been a time where you didn’t have him right there behind you. Always ready to catch you if you fell. You forget that there’s ever been anybody else.

                                                          x x x

Izuku Midoriya waits for you to call him, coming home from long days at a job that he regrets taking. He comes home, and he greets you because he forgets that you aren’t with him anymore, and he waits for the gentle praise and embrace you’d always offered him. 

He tells himself that he did the right thing, that leaving you behind was the only way to become the hero he’d dreamed of being ever since he was a little kid. And he’s almost there, he’s so close to his dream and it doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel as good as he thought it would.

So, he calls you. 

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” He mutters, listening to the dial tone before his phone starts to ring.

“The number you dialed is not available. Please leave a message after the tone.”

And he does, a few quiet breaths as he figures out what he wants to say and how to say it, and then, “I miss you, Y/N.”

Izuku hangs up then, realizing he doesn’t have anything else to say to you that could fix any of the mess that he made. His apartment feels so empty, and any indication that he’d ever had a life with somebody else is nonexistent. There’s a framed photo of him and his mother at the airport on his last day in Japan that sits on the entertainment console. He hates looking at it though, because you should have been there, you should be here.

Izuku Midoriya waits six months for you to tell him to come home, for the world to tell him to go home. Nobody tells him to go home. Izuku Midoriya ends his four year contract early.

So, the determined Izuku Midoriya wasn’t so determined, and Izuku Midoriya came home three and a half years early without telling a soul. And when he finally comes home, you’re everywhere. And so is Katsuki. It’d only been six months, and you and Katsuki had climbed higher than Izuku ever could have hoped to climb in America.

But if there’s one thing that Izuku has ever been determined about other than being a hero, it was you.

                                                      x x x

Katsuki is easily the most brilliant man you know, and he understands you better than anybody you’ve ever worked with, and he makes sure that everybody knows it. He’s smug about it, and he brags about you every chance he gets, and he loves you so much that nobody even tries to say a single nasty word to or about you.

And it’s all great until he comes home with little explosions popping in his palms and face you haven’t seen him make since your second year at UA.

“What’s up with you, Sweaty?” The gentle tease in your voice meant to cool him off, and it does, but not enough.

“Stupid fucking Deku,” Katsuki grumbles to you before he’s pulling you into him and flopping onto the couch with his face buried into the crook of your neck.

“Midoriya?” 

You’d almost entirely forgotten about the green-haired man. You’d spent three months getting over him, and Katsuki had been there to help you in any way you could have needed. Your ex had completely slipped your mind.

Katsuki nods, a soft grumble of affirmation rumbling through his chest and into yours.

“Damn nerd was asking to see you,” Katsuki mumbles, voice muffled by the soft cotton of your shirt and the way he keep digging his face into your chest, “Was askin’ me if you deserved better and stupid shit.”

You sigh and run your fingers through his hair, “I don’t want to see him. At all. And you’re more than I could ever ask for, ‘Tsuki.”

Katsuki hums something into your collarbone, and he has to lift up his head so he can whisper into your ear, “Are you gonna talk to him?”

“Maybe.”

Three days later, Deku catches you coming into the agency, and you let him stop you in the middle of the lobby.

“Y/N,” Deku looks panicked, like this is it for him, but you’d reached the end a long time ago, “Can we talk?”

You open your mouth, to say something, anything, to tell him to fuck off, that he’s an asshole.

“About what?” Katsuki asks, he’s changed into his civilian clothes and his hairs a little wet from using the locker room showers, and he slings a beefy arm around your waist and tugs you in close. You quietly relish in the natural security he carries, wrapping your arms around one of his as you stare Izuku down.

“Y/N, you deserve better,” Izuku tells you, completely ignoring the blonde, “I saw a little café down the street, we can drop in there, get a bite to eat?”

“They deserves somebody who won’t just fuckin’ ditch her out of nowhere,” Katsuki snarls at him, and you move so he’s in front of you, not wanting to risk getting burnt by his hands that have been popping more and more steadily or getting shocked by the green electricity that Izuku’s emitting in response. “She deserves somebody who actually gives a damn. They’re too good for you and me. It took you six months without them to realize that they’re not disposable, Deku! I knew from day one that they were brilliant. A damn sun and a half.”

Izuku makes the first move, and it’s messy and it devolves into a fight without Quirks. Just punching and kicking and screaming in mangled Japanese. And the longer you watch the harder it is to keep the anger you’d felt toward Izuku for so long down in the bottoms of your feet. 

It takes security thirty minutes to break the two of them apart, and when they do you’re already at Katsuki’s side.

“Is this the end?” Katsuki asks you, and you shake your head.

“No, this is where it begins,” And he smiles, cradling the back of your head with one hand as he wraps an arm around your waist so he can pull you into a kiss.

“Izuku,” You look at him from over your shoulder, and he looks as hurt as you’d felt all those months ago, “This is the end. We’ve been over for too long for you to come back to me now.”

                                                     x x x

Katsuki Bakugo doesn’t mind that it took him four years to have you, even if the two of you did hit more than a few speed bumps at the beginning of your relationship.

Because he has you now, and you look oh so beautiful in white. He doesn’t wonder why he waited so long for you now.

“Do I look alright?” You ask, and he thinks that it’s a stupid question, because you’re little apartment in the city became a two-story house in a nice neighborhood and six months quickly turned into five and a half years. And despite everything, Midoriya stands next to Kirishima in Katsuki’s line of groomsmen.

“Baby,” Katsuki whispers, and he tries not to let his voice crack because nobody needs to know that he’s crying right now, “You’re brilliant.”

And finally, finally, he has you. And nobody needs to tell him twice to kiss you, and he doesn’t even care if the pictures come out good or not. You don’t either, because when you get home that night you give him his wedding gift.

“I bought you diamonds,” You joke, handing a slim rectangle, and he laughs with you, the two of you tipsy on champagne and the feeling Katsuki Bakugo hadn’t been able to define when he’d first met you.

His gift is a little plastic stick with two pink lines on it.

“You’re not joking, are you?”

You shake your head, and you can’t help the wide smile that spilts your face in two as Katsuki drops to his knees and buries his face into your belly.

so, this is where it begins.

[songbirdsingingthings]

Pretty Little Symphony

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Hajime Isayama

AOT Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Requested by @tanukiprints​ :

Imagine Armin but he plays ukulele and often likes to play it for a female y/n.... THATS SUCH A CUTE FIC IDEA 🥺

Umm HELL YES that’s a cute fic idea! I’m so sorry that this took so long to complete - I had a bunch of unexpected school stuff to deal with and I wanted to make sure that this was as good as it can be! 

Word Count: 1.5K

The world was a dreary place. You already knew that since you were little, what with titans running rampant, but the moment you stepped foot into the Yeager’s basement was when you decided that the sun would never feel as warm as it once was again. Between the, what was it called… photograph? And everything that was perfectly detailed in the diaries of Eren’s father, you and your fellow comrades’ world was turned upside down. Not only was the royal family of the walls lying to them, and had been for the entirety of all their lives, but it was revealed that another, more advanced, civilization was out there somewhere. Captain Levi had quickly gathered everyone back up again to set off on the long journey outside of the walls, urging his squad to bring only the essentials: One tent for every three people, sparse rations, and whatever you could fit in the tiny little rucksack that was given to each scout.

It was easy to fill yours given that you, nor really anyone else for that matter, had much in the way of personal items. You packed a change of clothes, some extra hair ties, and your mother’s necklace, and then slung the bag over your shoulder. You were one of the first people to be done, so you decided to wait by your horse and double check that everything was correctly buckled and fastened to the saddle. The only other people who were out there with you was Captain Levi, who was a ways away with his horse, and Armin, whose bag seemed to be bursting at the seams.

“What have you got stuffed in there?” You asked, walking so you could be standing next to him. With an embarrassed grin, he shrugged his bag off of his back.

“I guess I did go a little overboard, but I wanted to bring some things to pass the time.” His words piqued your interest, causing you to lean closer to him and peer down into his bag. There weren’t a ton of things that the scouts were privy to, so what Armin had his hands on was pretty special. Inside his bag were about three books - of course - and a clean pair of clothes folded neatly. You accidentally caught a glimpse of his boxers, causing you to get a bit flustered. Moving on quickly from that, your eyes landed on an object that you’ve never seen before. It was a weird shape, the body of it like a peanut and then it had a flat elongated part sticking out. There was a small hole in the middle of the body, making it hollow. There were also strings that were connected from end to end. You picked it up carefully and inspected it more closely, in awe of how unique it was.

“Armin…” you began, lifting it so it was eye level, “do you know what it is?” A smile spread across his lips as he gently took it from you and held it in his arms.

“I found it in Mr. Yeager’s basement.” He says, a light wistful tone to his voice. He drags his index finger along one of the strings, feeling its odd tensile strength. When he pressed down lightly and then flicked his finger away, a pretty sound came after. Your eyes widened comically, bringing about a light laugh from Armin.

“It’s called a ukulele. Apparently it’s an instrument from wherever Mr. Yeager originally lived.” He explained, giving it back to you and pulling out a small book from his bag. “This seems to be a guide to how to use it.” You were about to look through it when your captain’s voice rang clearly.

“Everybody on your horses. I want to go as far as we can until night falls.” Captain Levi shouted roughly. Armin stuffs the book and ukulele back into his bag and puts his arms through the straps.

“Maybe we can talk more about it tonight? I’m really interested in it.” You say, smiling as you put your foot through your stirrup and swing yourself up onto your chestnut-colored horse. Armin nods in his signature shy nature, settling onto his own horse.

The ride was long and your legs were sore by the time the sun was starting to set. Sure, you’ve been on long expeditions before, but nothing like this. You felt sluggish and completely out of it as you pitched your tent, earning harsh words from Floch, however, you didn’t really care for what he had to say.

“Wait outside while I change,” you grumble, side-eyeing Floch. He rolls his eyes and scoffs, marching away to go talk to other new cadets. You drag your bag behind you and open it, taking out the cotton shirt and shorts that you’ve been using as pajamas for god knows how long. With a stretch of your back that does nothing to relieve the whole body ache that you developed, you stepped back out of your tent. You jump back in surprise when you do, though, because Armin was standing right in front of you.

“Ah, sorry if I startled you!” He apologized softly, his cerulean blue eyes now swirling with concern. You raised a hand to motion that it was no problem. “I just, um…” He started, not sure how to continue. 

“Are you done with your tent?” You ask, trying to get the flow of conversation going. His shoulders seem to relax.

“Oh, yes. Mikasa and Eren are already asleep though,” he says with a warm smile on his face. Something about him talking about his friends seemed to like a flicker of comfort to rise in Armin, which is why you did it so often. He was always so happy when conversing about them. “Who’s sharing your tent?” This causes you to groan and chuckle sarcastically, your eyes flicking towards where Floch was talking with a group of people.

“I got stuck with Floch and another new cadet,” you say, earning a pitying look from Armin. 

“I’m… sorry about that too,” he laments, a sad smile on his face. You sigh and shoot back a tired smile, stepping forward a bit to nudge Armin gently.

“So you came here for something?” You ask, trying to gently coax his intentions from him.

“Right!” He says excitedly, his eyes lighting up. “I was able to read a lot of that book about the ukulele and even practiced some with it. I was wondering if you wanted to see it…? I dunno, I just thought since you said beforehand that you were interested in it and-”

“I’d love to!” You confirm lightly, grabbing onto his arm softly and tugging him kindly towards his things. He falls into pace with you quickly and soon you make it over to where the ukulele sat. He was about to sit down and start playing, but noting that many of your comrades were asleep, he pulled you over to a more secluded space. You sat down, criss-crossed, and leaned your back on a fallen tree. Armin does the same, and you are painfully aware at how close he is to you. If you moved less than an inch to your right, your knees would brush against each other. He takes a deep breath before meeting your eyes and giving you a bashful look.

“I’m sorry if it might sound sour,” he prefaces. You shake your head and smile.

“I’m sure it’ll be lovely.” Armin inhaled sharply before placing his fingers in specific places on what he called the fretboard, and hovered his other hand over the parts of the strings that crossed over the hole. He strums it softly and a few notes filtered from it, pleasing your ears immediately. As he continues to play the instrument, you begin to feel more at peace than you had in awhile. The end of the little song came too quickly, and when Armin looked up to see your reaction, he was met with your awestruck face.

“So…?” He asked, wincing in preparation for what he believed would be a beration from you.

“Wow…” you breathe out. Your hand finds itself on top of the one that was previously strumming, causing Armin to blush. “Armin that was beautiful.” You confess, your eyes meeting him again. You hadn’t registered that you had, indeed, moved more than an inch closer to him. You were even more grateful that he had decided to pull you into more of a private area, thankful that it was just the two of you. Both of your heads moved unconsciously closer to each other, only stopping before your noses could touch. Armin raises a shaky hand towards your cheek, cupping it softly.

“May I?” He asks meekly, a furious blush on his face. You nod instantly.

“Please.” It was more tender than you could’ve ever imagined. His lips were soft and light when they met yours, just like his personality. Like the song, it ended too fast.

“Play for me again sometime?” You quip confidently, earning a quiet laugh from the blonde who was merely inches from you.

“Anytime.”

[ditttiii]

Brothers Conflict || 02.

Thrust into an already established family, you struggle to find your footing while dodging the advances of seven, incredibly good looking stepbrothers.

Your father marrying, and you suddenly having to live under the same roof with seven step brothers was a royal mess or so you had thought, Because them falling in love with you was so much worse. Or was it?

◈ Genre: Romance, Fluff, Humour, Smut and maybe a little angst. (PG-18) (step brother AU) (They are all adopted, I do NOT support incest, this work is inspired by the popular anime/manga Brothers Conflict)

◈ Pairings: OT7 x Reader (reverse harem)

◈ CHAPTER TWO

WC: 3124

Warnings: Curse Words (sfw)

Masterlist

Want to be tagged?↪ Taglist 

Tag-list: @mel-gonzalez07​​ @favsssxx​​ @imluckybitches​​ @nomimits7​​ @alex4243​​  @calling-dips-on-j-hope​ @joonsinnerchild​​ @iconicgguk​​ @untamedfaith​​ @kaheryn​​  @nottodayjjk​​ @moments-of-melancholy @gee-nee @confusemonkey​​  @beautyyounggirl​​  @blossoming-cherrytrees​​  @seoul9711​​ @confusemonkey​​ @btsismybiass​  @toochie-too

There needs to be a limit, you think. A threshold level to how bad a day can go before it ends, or maybe you faint and are left craning into nothingness. Just something to tell you that this is as bad as it can possibly get for you. 

You hear Seokjins' concerned voice get drowned by the much louder voice of your best friend, but you don't respond. You realise that you should get up, reassure everyone that you are okay, but you are starting to wonder if you can even salvage the day anymore. 

The limit to how embarrassed I can be has hit a new high today.

Groaning and cursing every single god up there, you finally raise your face from the floor, bringing your hand up to scratch your cheeks and rub your eyes, as you purposefully avoid all the gazes that you can feel trained on you. 

Wincing you scratch at the burn you feel on your chin from where your face had hit the carpet. The fall could have been a lot worse, but the rug had saved you from the worst of the burnt. 

Saved, everything but your dignity that is. 

"I am fine," You reassure everybody without looking at anybody; before you turn to Sunmi and squeeze her hand in silent reassurance. Her concerned eyes stay trained on your hunched figure, but at your small smile, she nods, sending a small worried smile back. 

Sunmi has been your best friend since middle school. Your friendship blossomed the day she punched another girl in the school washroom for you, the girl; a bully was making fun of you for being a late bloomer, when Sunmi, your schools' resident queen-bee, swooped in like a raging goddess in all her angry glory and gave the girl a black eye. 

You still think back to that day with fondness and a slight sense of wariness. Your petite, barbie doll of a best friend could pack quite the punch. It was a reassuring yet scary skill of hers. 

Snapped out of your thoughts at the feel of a hand on your shoulder, you look up to see Seokjins’ concerned eyes peering into yours, and exhale out a heavy breath. 

Okay, now it can't get any worse. 

Maybe you shouldn't feel as reassured as you do with that thought, but you do. The realisation that you have already hit rock bottom when it comes to first impressions is, funnily enough, liberating to you. 

At least now, I don't have to worry about if the pitch of my 'hello' is right or not. 

Evidently, such frivolous solicitude was no longer a concern of yours. You have risen to higher grounds, where your first impression bar now ranges from psycho to batshit crazy.

Yep, that sounds about right. 

A cough snaps you out of your thoughts, and you quickly rise to your feet, with a little help from Sunmi. In your peripheral vision, you see Seokjin’s hands hover uselessly in the air as he stops himself from reaching out to you. Clearly, your earlier responses to his touch had left an impression on him, one that was probably not all that great, you realise. 

Wincing at both your embarrassment and the slight sting you feel, you finally swivel your gaze away from the floor and to the six men ahead of you, Seokjin still hovering worriedly by your side, like a concerned mother hen. 

If you had any dignity left, you'd have laughed, but as it is—you are probably bordering on crazy, and you don't want to push it. 

Not today. 

"Umm," You start as your eyes lock with that of one of the brothers who is looking at you with concerned filled eyes and you quickly break your gaze away. Focusing at a point on the floor somewhere by his feet, you bow low and mumble out an "Annyeonghaseyo!"

The words feel foreign on your tongue, even though your best friend is Korean. While you don't live in Korea and aren't Korean, your new extended family is. You know that they know English and originally you had no plans of speaking Korean. But nerves shot, and performance pressure high, the slightly accented greeting tumbled out before you even fully realised what you were saying. 

An awkward silence stretches on for a second too long, before the man whose feet you are drilling holes into with your gaze, is bowing and introducing himself. 

"Ah, Annyeonghaseyo! I am Kim Namjoon, the fourth oldest brother or well the middle one," Here he flashes you a quick close-lipped smile, and your eyes automatically stray to his dimples. 

‘Pretty’

While your eyes are still locked onto his dimples, utterly fascinated by their definition, he continues, "We have been waiting for you, it's a pleasure, to finally meet you Y/N-ssi!" His smile widens as he finishes his greeting, and you want to reply, but your eyes are, again, focused onto his dimples.

'So pretty.' 

It's when Sunmi pinches your side subtly that you clear your thoughts, moving your gaze away as you smile back—a soft, genuine curl of your lips. 

"Um, sorry I'm late, there was some traffic," Here you wave your hand in the air aimlessly before you realise what you are doing and force it down, biting your lip. "This is my best friend Sunmi, and um it's really nice, to finally be able to meet you all too!" You finish lamely. Your introduction, a mess of stutters and random flailing limbs, leaves your face feeling hotter by the second. 

"Finally! We have been waiting to meet our cute little yeodongsaengie all day! I am Jung Hoseok, the third oldest and welcome to the family Y/n-ah!" Greets Hoseok, a bright megawatt smile overtaking his face, as he swoops in and gathers you in a hug. This time though you are ready and without a seconds delay, your hands wrap around Hoseok's back, as you awkwardly pat, unsure of his boundaries. 

Hoseok though has no such concern, as his strong, warm hands wrap affectionately around your shoulders, pulling you closer and giving you a proper bear hug. Somehow it doesn't come as a surprise to you that Hoseok would be affectionate, something about his bright smile and sunny disposition had you feeling more comforted and reassured than awkward. 

Surrounded by your now brother's warmth, you melt in his arms and for once enjoy the feeling of belonging in someone else's hold except Sunmis’. 

"Did you have any problems coming here? I knew one of us should have come to pick you up instead." Hoseok continues, his eyes soft and concerned as they rake over you, keeping you at arm's length, as he checks you for any injuries, and a laugh almost slips out of you at his over the top concern. 

"I am fine Hoseok ss—" You pause, hesitant to continue as you think of what you should address him as before you try again, "Hoseok-oppa?"

Your voice comes out soft, questioning and a little hesitant as you look up at Hoseok to see his reaction, but he's grinning. His smile somehow even brighter than it had been before, and then he's pulling you into another hug. 

His arms wrapping around your shoulders and softly rocking you from side to side as he coos, "Aish, call me Hobi-oppa, Y/n-ah! That's what all the dongsaengies call me!"

You giggle as your limited Korean knowledge kicks in and you realise he's talking about his younger brothers. A groan echoed from behind him and in response a laugh booms out of Hoseok, as he finally loosens his hold. 

Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, he turns to Sunmi, and again introduces himself, Sunmi doing the same. 

You watch the interaction with an unfamiliar almost, warm, feeling in your chest. Usually, it would be you introducing yourself to Sunmis' family at Christmas or family vacations for which you'd tag along; and your father was never really home enough to ever meet Sunmi. 

So, to finally have someone call you family in front of your best friend, was a simple but strangely comforting thing, and you grin, feeling rapidly more at ease in your brothers embrace. 

"Aish Hob-ah! Stop hogging our little yeodongsaeng, will you?" Jin jokingly reprimands, and you chuckle, your grip around Hoseok tightening as you lean into his side. 

"Well, it's only fitting; I am going to be her favourite oppa, after all!" He jokes as his head tilts to look at you and he winks. His soft black hair slips low over his forehead, as his shimmery dark eyes sparkle from in between the gaps of his strands. And you smile softly, shaking your head fondly at his antics before you extract yourself from his embrace and move to introduce yourself to the rest of your stepbrothers. 

"Min Yoongi, second oldest, Welcome to the family Y/n." You smile and nod, a small 'Thank you oppa,' slipping out as you shake Yoongi's hand. His palm is soft, and a little cold against yours, and your smile widens at the small grin he gives you, blonde locks messy and rumpled as he runs his hand through them. 

Turning to look at the other three men in the room, you smile and bow as you greet them too. Your eyes rise when one of them steps forward, bowing to you, his cotton candy pink hair catching the light of the room and shining bright. But what gets your attention is his smile. Full lips curled into quite possibly the sweetest smile you have ever seen in your life, as his eyes turn into two crescent moons. 

"Nice to finally meet you, little sister, I am Park Jimin the hyung of the maknaes'" He winks before continuing, "and the fifth oldest one. We have been waiting to meet you for a while now. Glad to have you be a part of our not so little family! It might be a bit overwhelming at times, but know that we are all delighted to have you here." He grins, and you let out a chuckle yourself, comforted and appreciative of his efforts at trying to make you feel more at ease. 

"Thank you for welcoming me!I..uh am not the best at first impressions, but I promise I am not always such a clutz." You quip back and watch surprised, as Jimin throws his head back, eyes crinkling into those crescent moons again, as a laugh tumbles out of him. His hands rest on his chest, as he hunches over laughing and you smile, your gaze travelling to his palms and a snort slipping out when you realise his hands much like the rest of him are exceptionally pretty and delicate. 

You aren't usually very self-conscious, but surrounded by so many ridiculously attractive people, the insecurity was starting to creep in.

Blessed men. 

Shifting your gaze to the last two brothers, you smile, bowing a little as you greet them, but when only silence greets you back, your raise your head, eyes furrowed as you look up to see the last two of your seven step brothers looking at you with disinterest and maybe the slightest bit disdain?

A little more hesitant now, you smile at them again, but receive back even more silence. 

An awkward silence stretches on for a while, as you take in their appearance. You already know the names of the youngest two, had painstakingly learned then a week ago when your father had informed you that you'd have to move in with your extended family. 

Kim Taehyung, the one with crystal-like cerulean eyes and platinum blonde hair, that was almost silver. Long, messy strands that reached low and covered almost his entire eyes. His face so perfectly chiselled, it was like the gods personally took their time sculpting it, not a single flaw or blemish on his pale, smooth skin. 

In any other situation, you'd have gaped and taken your time appreciating the fineness that was his face, but since those crystal blue eyes of his were glaring angry holes into your forehead, you decide not to. 

Next time. 

Snapping your eyes away from Taehyung; your gaze falls onto the last brother, Jeon Jungkook, the youngest in the family, at least before you came along. 

For someone who was only a year older than you, his build was impressively large. Even from under the oversized loose tee he was wearing; you could see his broad shoulders. The t-shirt hugged his pectoral muscles before it loosened over the abbs. Jungkooks, from what you could only assume, abdomen was coiled and defined under the loose shirt he was wearing. 

After a few more seconds of awkward silence during which you see Jimin hiss and glare at the duo from the side, you snap back to your senses. Clearing your throat, you twist onto your heels as you look back at Jimin, who stops mid hiss when your eyes catch his before he pushes his signature bright smile your way. 

The smile you give him is a little shaky, your awkwardness from before coming back in full force, in response to the two youngest giving you the cold shoulder. 

You aren't surprised though; you were expecting some sort of resistance. When your father had pretty much ordered you to move into your new 'mothers' house, you were pretty pissed too. You had then thrown a tantrum, screaming and crying about how unfair he was being. That even as your father, he had no right to uproot your life like that, but no matter what you said he didn't budge. 

His decision was final, and so cursing and screaming, a week later here you are, trying your best to be the ideal sister your father expects you to be, as you attempt to accept these seven strangers as your family.

'Life just doesn't give me a break, does it?' You think wryly, letting out a soft sigh when you feel the glares against the sides of your face darken. 

Okay then, act like a bunch of pouty little brats, see if I care. 

Rolling your eyes at the immaturity, your two older brothers were currently showcasing, you move back to Sunmi who was now talking to Namjoon. 

"Your boxes were delivered a few hours ago, we've moved them all up to your room, but we haven't unpacked any. Would you like help with the unpacking? I have to leave for court now, but a few of us are free today, and we'd be more than happy to help." Namjoon offers, his dimpled smile again on full display, and if you were any more juvenile, you'd have called it a personal attack. 

Pretty 2x.

Feeling the glares at your back not letting up, you just shake your head. You have a feeling Namjoon is talking about the two overgrown babies who are currently wishing death upon you, but you'd rather have the boxes fall and slowly suffocate you to your demise than have them help.

"It's fine; I can do it. Thank you for sending the boxes up to my room though!" You reply, and Namjoon just ruffles your hair in response. Squealing you try to move away from his reach and groan, fixing your now rats nest of hair. 

Chuckling at your apparently hilarious antics Namjoon nods and calls Jimin over, asking him to escort you and Sunmi to your room. You figure since it's still early on in the day, most of them have their jobs to attend to, and will probably take their time to socialise with you later. 

You don't mind, the more time you have to get your shit together, the better. 

Waving goodbye to Namjoon and everybody else, You, Sunmi and Jimin make your way to the stairs. Why you can't just use the elevator like before, you don't know, but considering it has been less than an hour since you have joined your new family, you don't bother complaining. 

Too soon. 

Much like downstairs, the interior of the floor above was simplistic. Metallic, with lots of glassed walls and plenty of potted plants. 

'Someone in this family is obsessed with plants.' You think amused as your gaze travels to all the different types of plants around you. Some of them, you think, look too green and fancy to be real. 

The marble staircase is wide and curved, and once you reach the end, you turn back to look down and raise a brow, impressed, at how high the floor was. 

Fancy indeed. 

"This floor is where most of the rooms are, only Namjoon-hyung and Yoongi-hyung live on the floor below," Jimin explains, as he leads you to where you assume your room is. 

Passing by different doors on your way, you wonder whose room is which. You'll figure it out later you know, but you just hope none of the younger brothers are near you. 

'Except Jimin, he's nice.' You decide as you follow his lean figure. 

Pink, a colour you think would look absurd or emo on anyone else, looks bright somehow fitting, on your brother's head, and you watch entranced as his soft silky strands bounce with every step he takes. 

'What is with these people and their genetics?'

It's that thought that leads you to an epiphany. You almost stop in your tracks but stumble forward when Sunmi nudges you from behind. 

Earlier you were too nervous and wired, terrified of somehow messing up and offending your entire new family and so you hadn't given it much thought. But thinking back, you realise there was something weird about how they all introduced themselves. 

Min, Jung, Jeon. 

Their last names were different. You don't understand how you hadn't noticed it before when you had learned all their names, but you blame your anger and stupidity for the oversight. 

'Kim Young-Soon', your step-mother, and the woman you currently hated with all of your being. 

However, what you hadn't realised before but now do was how only Seokjin, Namjoon, and Taehyung, had the same last name, 'Kim' as their mother. 

'What the heck is up with this family?' 

More confused than anything else by your realisation, you continue to follow Jimin blindly. His voice fading into the background, as your eyes track his movements, the way his full lips curl when he smiled, and your suspicion only grows. 

There was something your new family wasn’t telling you, and you were going to find out just what it was. 

At least now I have something to do besides stressing out over suddenly having seven brothers, two of whom would set me on fire if given a chance.

Nodding, you decide you are going to have to do some interrogation tonight. 

A/N: If you like my work, leave me your feedback, even if its just a single word, it leaves me feeling immensely happy. 

I updated in less than a week! Heh, clearly my stir craziness is achieving new heights. Oh well, more content for y’all so yeeehawww 🥴

[allegra-writes]

Black Magic Girl

Peter Parker x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut

The request:

PLS! I have this request I was thinking about for a while and it’s like te reader is a witch that casts a spell on Peter, it’s kind of like a truth spell that also lowers inhibitions, and he literally ravishes her because of it cause he’s wanted her since he first met her and now he literally cannot control himself.

And:

I have read so many Peter Parker fanfics but the one I want soooo badly is where Peter Parker gets suuper dominant. Do you think you could write it? Pleaseeee 🌸

MY MASTERLIST

"Got me so blind I can't see

That she's a black magic woman

And she's tryin' to make a devil out of me"

- Black magic woman, Fleetwood Mac.

"Peter? Peter…" Your voice reached him like through a haze, or like he was underwater, your increasingly frantic tone cutting through the fog inside his head. "Please, Peter, please just… just open your eyes…"

He didn't want to, he truly didn't want to, his head was killing him and his stomach felt queasy. Almost as if he was hungover, but that wasn't possible.

"Ow… ouch…"

"Oh, thank the gods!" You almost sobbed in relief as his eyes fluttered open.  He was ok. You helped him sit up on the floor, and he smiled, a little loopilly, at you.

"Hey…" He greeted, leaning heavily on you, so close that you could feel his warm breath on your face, "Wha- what happened?"

Peter frowned, taking a look around the interrogation room: the metal table, chairs and even the prisoner were overturned and laying messily around the both of you.

You flinched,

"I was trying to cast a spell…"

Oh, yeah, the spell, he remembered now. The herbs, the chanting, the rose-gold light.

"The truth spell," He recalled, "You were trying to cast a truth spell, for- for the asgardian dude…"

"Yeah…"

"What happened?"

You sighed,

"It kinda… exploded I guess"

"Kid! Are you alright?" Tony and Steve came running from the hallway, no doubt having seen the whole thing through the security cameras.

"Fine, Mr. Stark," He stood, steadying himself with your help, "just a little dizzy"

"What about you, doll, you ok?" Steve hovered over you and you could swear a soft growl vibrated in Peter's chest "This is our fault, I knew we shouldn't have let you try this alone"

You controlled the urge to roll your eyes, it was always like that with the Captain, he was always babying you, underestimating you. You hated it.

"I'm fine"

"But the spell backfired, it-"

"No… I don't think it did" You interrupted him, "I mean, it didn't hit me, it didn't knock me back like…" You trailed off. Like it had done everything else .

"Woah, Mr. Stark, I don't feel so good" Peter stumbled, both you and Tony holding him to stop him from falling face first on the floor.

"Kiddo, what is it? Talk to me"

Peter babbled intelligibly. You cursed.

"What? What is going on, y/n?" Tony questioned, visibly worried, ignoring Steve's automatic language protest.

"I-I think it worked. His pupils are dilated, we need to take him to the med bay, fast!"

"Why? I mean it's just a truth spell…"

"It's not just any truth spell" You snapped, "It's like… like a gallon of alcohol all at once, it loosens your tongue by lowering your inhibitions to the point of nonexistence! You tell the truth because the filter between your brain and your mouth disappears!"

Peter looked positively green now,

"Oh, shit! Take me to the med bay, take me to the med bay NOW! Mr. Stark, please!"

Tony's eyes flickered between you and his protege's terrified face, he knew exactly what Peter was afraid to tell you.

And he actually thought it was about time.

"Sorry, underoos, prisoner is waking up, we have to start this interrogation right away" he apologized, sounding anything but sorry, "but you can walk, it's not that far, you can lock yourself there until the effect wears out."

"Oh, princess, go with him, would ya? Make sure he doesn't get into any trouble on the way" Tony added as an afterthought. You nodded and took Peter's arm as you guided him out of the room, none of you paying any mind to the super soldiers protests.

"Please, you don't have to do this" Peter tried to disentangle from you once you were far enough from the older Avengers ears, "I- I can make it to the bay by myself"

You scoffed,

"Is that true?"

"No, I just wanna get away from you fast" Peter blurted out. You stopped dead in your tracks.

"What? Why?" You tried to keep the hurt out of your voice, you really did.

"Because" His breathy voice in your ear sent an unexpected shiver down your spine as he leaned even closer, putting more of his weight on you, "I don't trust myself near you right now"

You gulped. There was something in his voice, something you couldn't put your finger on. Something primal, almost dark. The shift in him was so sudden it left you stunned, dazed.

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"I mean it takes me a lot of self control to keep myself away from you" He explained, between gritted teeth, the struggle clear in his tone, "and I can feel that control slip away… I don't know… how much longer can I keep it together"

You turned to meet his eyes and you found them darkened with lust, with barely contained desire.

"What if… what if I don't want you to stay away from me?"

A helpless noise left his throat, a wordless surrender, as his will finally broke, as he crushed his lips to yours. He nibbled at your lower lip before licking it, before coaxing your mouth open with his tongue. You felt your body come alive, every nerve ending screaming for more, more of the taste of his tongue, more of his body against yours. You snaked your arms around his neck and felt his twist around your waist, one hand splayed on your back, pressing you closer. He started pushing you, walking you back, but instead of hitting the wall like you expected, you both kept moving. It wasn't until the back of your thighs collided with a metal table that you realized he had guided you into another interrogation room.

You grabbed onto the table to stop from falling back on it, and Peter took advantage of that to shove his pelvis against yours, forcing you to sit on it as he stepped between your legs. You gasped for air as he released your lips. He disentangled one arm from around your back. You heard, more than saw, the spider webs that closed and locked the door; you hadn't noticed he was still wearing his web-shooters under his black stealth suit. Another hiss, and the security camera was out.

"Peter… what are you doing?"

He ignored your question, capturing your lips again, pressing himself harder against you, his erection against your center making what was on his mind perfectly clear.

You pushed at his chest until he freed your mouth,

"Peter, wait, we can't" You tried to reason as his lips traced their way down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, undoubtedly leaving marks. "You're under a spell, this isn't you!"

"But it is me" He contended, catching your hands in a vice-like grip, "I wanted you for so long… and you want me to, I know it. I can smell it on you" He whispered the last part against your lips, tongue peeking out to lick at the corner of your mouth.

"Wh-why didn't you…" You tried to focus your swimming head enough to make sense, "You never said anything"

Peter was on you again, kissing you with a ferocity you would have never believed the sweet boy capable of.

"I couldn't" He grunted, when he finally broke the kiss, "you're their little girl. The baby of the group. Their innocent little princess, who can do no wrong…" He shook his head, "And the things I wanted to do you. That I still want to do to you…"

You bristled at his words, you weren't even the youngest one. Peter was, actually. And he was twenty-three. If he was treated like an adult you didn't see why you shouldn't be. You wanted Peter to fuck you, not to put you on a pedestal.

You met his eyes, almost defiant.

"I'm not that innocent"

He licked his lips,

"Aren't you?"

You shook your head no,

"Show me" You demanded, "Show me what you've been dreaming of"

Peter smirked, grabbing your chin almost painfully,

"Ask me nicely"

"Please"

That was all it took, one word and he was unleashed, taking your hands and tying them at your back with another swoosh of his web-shooter, ripping open your plain white blouse, tiny pearly buttons flying everywhere. He buched it around your tied wrists, before taking a step back, admiring his work.

"I fantasized about this," He confessed, "every time we worked together at the lab: You, sitting pretty on the worktable, all tied up for me…" his eyes never left you, you flushed chest, your nipples hard behind your lacy pink bra, as he placed his palms on your knees, slowly sliding them up, "About slipping my hands under this ppretty pink skirt…" his thumbs met above your cotton covered crotch and he pressed, the fabric quickly becoming damp.

A soft moan left your lips as he rubbed up and down your slit. But it was muffled by a sticky substance suddenly covering your lips.

Peter chuckled at the dirty look you threw him. He lowered his head, breath hot on your breasts,

"I dreamed about gagging you up so they wouldn't hear your moans as I…" He brought his tongue out to lick one pebbled nipple above the coarse lace, "Yeah, just like that" He praised the muted noise you made, before bringing his hands to your chest, ripping the flimsy fabric from your body like paper scraps and really diving in, sucking and biting and bruising. He wasn't being delicate with you, he wasn't coddling you and treating you like you were about to break like everybody else. And you loved it.

He bit down on the swell of your breast and you looked down, surprised to see he hadn't drawn blood. He soothed the hurt with his tongue, looking up at you. You were gorgeous, all caught up in his webs, breathing hard and glossy eyed, already looking ravished.

He stood to whisper in your ear, as his fingers tugged your underwear to the side,

"I pictured burying my hard cock between your legs..." two long fingers breached your entrance and you let your head fell on his shoulder, "Over… and over… and over…" he punctuated every word with a sharp thrust of his fingers in and out of you, and suddenly you were glad he had gagged you. Otherwise you were sure everyone in the compound would have heard your wantom moans.

His thumb found your clit and your head fell back again and Peter took the chance to lift your skirt. The vision of his fingers glistening with your juices, gliding in and out of your pussy half covered by your white cotton panties, tableau vivant of your defiled innocence was too much for him. He took his hands off you, opening his fly and lowering his boxers just far enough to free his hard, throbbing member, impaling you in one go. You tried to get away from the sudden intrusion on instinct, he was way too thick, way too long. But he hooked his hands behind your bended knees, pulling you forward, farther down his oversized cock.

"Oh no baby," He scolded, "good sluts take what is given to them" his crass language made you shiver, and he smirked, "Don't you want to be my good little slut?"

You nodded, and his expression softened, as he snaked a hand around your back, bringing you closer, cock sinking into you deeper, inch by painfully delicious inch. Once he was buried to the hilt, he placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

"You did so good, baby girl. I knew you could take it all." His praise warmed your insides, and you relaxed into his embrace.

"Can you still make sparks with your hands tied like this?"

His question struck you as odd, but you concentrated in creating the flickers anyway, a shower of pretty lights all the answer you were able to give him.

"Good baby girl. I know I should have told you this before, but if you ever need me to stop or I do something you don't like, make red sparkles and I promise I'll stop"

You nodded your head, and he kissed you again, slowly starting to move his hips, dragging his cock almost all the way out, only to push his way back in, a little harder, a little faster every time.

"Oh baby girl… feels so good…" He moaned, "knew this would be… the best pussy I ever had"

You leaned back, bracing yourself on your bounded hands behind you, opening your legs wider, offering yourself to him.

"Yeah, like that… you like this, don't you? Like me fucking you… but sluts like it hard… and fast"

You made a noise of agreement, and he picked up his pace, hips driving into you, cock stabbing into you with no mercy. The pornographic wet sounds of skin slapping on skin resonating in the soundproof room, the sight of your pussy, juicy and red, swallowing his dick over and over… Fuck, he could see himself moving inside you, your skin rippling with every thrust, every intrusion of his massive cock. He was close, and you were too, he could tell by the way you were tensing up, the explosion imminent. But he wanted you debased, he wanted you desperate. He wanted you begging for it, begging for him.  

He wanted to ruin you.

He slipped out of you, taking a step back, leaving you empty just as you were about to fall over the edge. He chuckled darkly at your stifled cry of protest, wrapping his hand around himself, pumping it up and down his length.

You looked thoroughly wrecked: cunt fucked open, hair a mess, clothes hanging in rags around your frame. So fucking beautiful and obscene, that only a handful of strokes later, and he was painting your chest on white ribbons, marking you with his come. He grabbed your chin again, lips pressing to your webbed ones and somehow, that felt dirtier than everything he had done to you so far.

You sobbed into the kiss.

"What is it baby girl?" He cooed, fingers delicately pushing your hair away from your sweat covered forehead. "You want to come?"

You nodded frantically. Peter applied something to your lips, dissolving the webbing. He took a step back.

"Show me how much you want it"

You didn't need to be told twice, jumping from the table and falling to your knees in front of him. You made eye contact as you nuzzled his length, and saw his sharp intake of breath. You hid your smile at his little display of weakness, at the small crack of his façade of dominance.

"You know how to do this?"

You scoffed,

"I'm not a virgin!"

"I know you aren't" He cupped your face, and you twisted to capture his thumb into your mouth, "You truly aren't that innocent, are you?"

You shook your head no, releasing his digit with a pop.

"Show me how dirty you are baby girl"

A new challenging look shone in your eyes,

"As dirty as you dare to make me. Use me, Peter. Fuck my face, please"

Fuck.

He was hallucinating, he had to be. Years of watching porn, of daydreaming of you and the filthiest fantasies his brain could come up with hadn't prepared him for this, for the reality of you on your knees for him, asking him to…

Fuck!

He caressed your cheek, his other hand tangling on your hair, angling your head just so. Your lips fell open and he entered your mouth, far slower than he had entered you. He had to take it slow, otherwise he wasn't going to last, not with you still staring up at him, angelic doe eyes bright and big and adoring. He started rocking his hips, withdrawing only to surge back, a little deeper each time. You tried to suppress your gag reflex, but every time your throat constricted around him it only seemed to spur him on. Breathing was becoming hard and your eyes started to glisten with unshed tears.

"You look… so beautiful… choking on my cock" His words were strained, as you tried to massage his shaft with your tongue to the best of your abilities, drool dripping down your chin. "Prettiest little slut… ever"

You hummed, pleased, and the vibrations got him cursing out loud. He would have liked to enjoy that sinful mouth of yours longer, but he could feel the rise building again, and this time he didn't want to waste it. He had to come inside you, show you who you belonged to.

He slipped out and helped you stand, massaging your jaw and cheeks with his fingertips, before pulling you close for another earth shattering kiss. You melted into it, into him. The feeling of his clothed body against your naked skin got you reeling.

"Please" You gasped into his mouth, "Peter… please"

"God, baby girl, you beg so pretty!" He turned you around, bending you over the table. The cold metal felt delicious against your fevered skin. You felt him move behind you, flipping your skirt over your back, rolling your ruined panties down your thighs. Not being able to see him, not knowing what would come next, made it all the more exciting, your body trembling with anticipation.

His rough palms grazed your ass, grabbing handfuls of your globes, spreading them apart.

"Fuck, baby girl, you're pretty everywhere…"

One of his hands left you as he guided his cock between your folds. He felt even bigger like this, his girth stretching you in all the good ways. You were so wet that he had no problem building up a fast rhythm right away, his cock gliding in and out smoothly, your body offering no resistance as he laid it into you hard, taking hold of your bound hands for leverage, easily moving you to meet his implacable thrusts, fucking you mercilessly.

You bit your lips, trying to reign in your moans and sobs.

"Oh no, baby girl… let me hear you… let them hear you"

You were to lost in the pleasure he was inflicting upon you to be able to form a coherent question but he must have sense your confusion, because he explained,

"The cap has a crush on you... did you know that?.. He hates it… makes him feel like a dirty old man" He leaned over your back, to place a filthy lick up the side of your neck, his punishing pace never faltering, "What would he say if he saw you like this… covered in my cum, moaning like a slut, taking my cock… God you take me so well, baby girl" it was him the one moaning the end of his sentence out.

To his surprise, you giggled,

"Oh god… he would have a heart attack!"

"You don't- don't care?"

You started moving with him, fucking yourself back on his cock,

"Rather be your cockslut… than his princess"

Peter growled, and suddenly he was on your back, his weight pinning you down. If you thought he was fucking you hard before, it was nothing compared with the pistoning of his hips now, as one of his hands fisted in your hair, turning your head so he could attack your mouth with his, and the other slid underneath you, finding your clit, rubing it in quick short strokes, almost painfully. The heat became almost unbearable, the coil tightening fast, your toes curling. You couldn't breath, trapped as you were under the onslaught of his cock on your already abused pussy, filling you over and over, owning you.

"Yes! Like that, give it to me baby girl… I can feel you coming… who's the one that's making you come?"

"You!"

"Say my name" He demanded, lifting you from your feet under the power of his thrusts, "who's the only one who fucks you like this?"

"You are, Peter!" You cried as your orgasm exploded. But he didn't stop, couldn't stop, not when he could feel your walls starting to squeeze him again, thight, so thight stars were exploding behind his eyelids.

"Louder, scream for me, baby girl!"

It was too much, his cock impaling you so hard it knocked the air out of your lungs, the cruel pleasure setting every nerve ending on fire, his moans and groans in your ear as he used your body ruthlessly and unforgiving, the new climax crashing on you, stronger and more intense that the first one.

"PETER!" You heard yourself scream, felt his hot seed deep inside you… Right before the world went black.

…

The next morning, you woke up in a bed that wasn't yours, wrapped in arms that cradled you like you were something precious, and fragile, but for the first time, you didn't mind. You vaguely recalled the soft cotton of your ruined top cleaning the mess between your legs, Peter's bare chest as he dressed you in his own t-shirt to preserve your modesty. As he gathered you close, carrying you bridal style to his bedroom. But you did remember the hot bath, your back to his chest, nested between his legs, hands exploring, caressing, soothing marks and bruised spots.

And you remember the love making, the both of you insatiable now that you finally had the other in your arms. The tender promises exchanged in the sacred darkness before sunrise.

Needless to say, you were in a good mood, not even Tony sending knowing looks your way, and Steve, avoiding looking at you and Peter altogether could sour your mood. They didn't matter. Or rather, Steve didn't matter. He was in love with his own version of you, with this image he had created in his head and you weren't sorry to shatter it to pieces. Tony was Tony, and you knew he was happy for his protegee.

It wasn't until you got inside your own lab (if you could call that the half greenhouse, half library), that your mood was shaken.

"Master!" You froze in the doorway as you saw your mentor, leaning back casually against one of the tables, looking at something on his Starkpad, "You- you're back early! I thought the council was still-"

"Those old hags are still arguing with each other" He interrupted your anxious greeting, "I grew bored of them. But now I am thoroughly entertained"

You knew it was your turn to talk, to ask what was it he found so interesting. But your words died in your throat. Your hands started to sweat, and you dried them on the skirt of your pretty pink sundress. Peter had been very insistent: Only skirts and dresses from now on, he wanted you ready for him anywhere, anytime. You felt yourself heat up and tried to get a grip; this wasn't the place, nor the time for such thoughts.

Loki finally raised his gaze from the screen, blue eyes piercing through you.

"Tony asked me to take a look at this footage, find where you went wrong and correct you" he snorted, "As if I need his input in how to best train my apprentice…"

He motioned to you to come closer, playing the video again for you.

"Do you want to know what I found, my little enchantress?"

You didn't reply. You didn't have to, anyway. He didn't need it to continue.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Your work was flawless, as usual"

You dared a smile,

"Thank you, master"

He smiled back, amused, and you breathed in relief as you realized, he wasn't mad at you. He was pleased by you. "It does beg the question, why did your spell explode?"

Your smile turned into a smirk, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Because I wanted it to, of course"

He laughed, boisterous and loud and for a second, he reminded you of his brother. He was delighted, not because you had finally caught your little spider in a web of your own weaving, he couldn't care less about the boy. No, he was pleased that you had, at last, started following his advice, the one he had given you so long ago, one night you had come to him frustrated to tears, after the Avengers had refused yet again to take you into a mission with them, leaving you to paperwork and babysitting.

"I almost preferred it when they were afraid of me! At least back then they respected me…"

Loki had tsked,

"Oh, no, none of that! Always let them underestimate you, my little enchantress. Let them think you're the delicate flower in their garden, but be the serpent under it "

… And what a charming little serpent you were .

The end.

Buy me a coffee

[timextoxhajima]

CAPITAL LETTERS: Christmas Special

BONUS TRACK: CHANGE YOUR MIND

Member: Juyeon

Genre: CHRISTMAS FLUFF AND A TINY BIT OF SMUT

Word Count: 2.3k words

A/N: Merry Christmas to all my readers out there! I hope you’re safe, warm and happy wherever you are! I considered writing a full-on smut for this special but decided not to, in the spirit of wholesome giving. I hope this will serve as a little token of appreciation for your patience in reading my work. <3

My love, 

You’ve been away far too long now, I’m starting to feel like I’m forgetting your scent. How is it like over there? Is the weather kind to you? Are you eating well? I hope you miss me as much as I miss you.

Love, Juyeon

Your lids droop halfway down your eyeballs, chucking away the handwritten letter into your purse and looking behind your shoulder. 

“You are extremely dramatic for someone who’s been sitting right outside my office,” He pulls the door open and pops his head in. His hair is a new mixture of black with highlights the colour of clouds and it couldn’t have made him look better.

Your jaw drops open in pleasant surprise, eyes trying to process the sight before you. But then he walks in, and he’s very obviously hiding something behind his back. A squint forms on your lids and that playful tongue of his darts out to swipe across his lower lip, just moments before he lunges forward and pecks you on your lips. 

He doesn’t want you to hug him because he knows you’ll find some way to climb onto him and figure out what he’s hiding behind his back. 

“What, no time to rest?” Folding your arms, you raise a brow when he coyly walks backward into your sofa, careful not to crush whatever he was holding behind his back. “First, you come into my office looking like that then now you’re hiding, what, keys to your helicopter behind your back?”

“What’s wrong with looking like ‘that’?” Mischief creeps along his lips in the form of a smirk, cuing you to provide him with an exaggerated scoff. 

“You know what I mean.”

You can feel him watch you as you walk around to the back of your table, packing all your Christmas gifts from your colleagues into the shelves or drawers. 

“Well, aren’t you going to try and figure out what I got for you?”

“I’ll just wait until you can’t take it anymore. It’s not like you can hide that behind your back all the way till we get home, you need to drive.”

“Ugh,” Groaning in mild frustration, the friction of fabric against sofa tells that Juyeon removed himself from the furniture, the gentle footsteps into the marble floor getting closer to you. His presence is strong behind you, then both his hands travel around the side of your waist, under your arms, and presents you a Christmas bouquet of white and red roses with a gold wrap. 

You don’t bother to take the bouquet, but instead, you whip around and wrap your arms around his torso, resting your head in his chest. Juyeon chuckles, sinking his nose and lips into the crown of your head. You can feel him trying to tighten his hold around you despite the bouquet still being in one of his hands. 

“Thank you,” He releases you as you take the bouquet from him, his hands dropping to your waist. “Now I feel bad for making you wait outside my office.” 

“You did warn me,” The bouquet looks large when it’s in your hands, but all you do is stare and gleam at the flowers like it was gold. “Besides, watching you work is kinda hot.”

“Says you,” Looking up, Juyeon smiles not with his lips, but with his eyes as he leans forward. Providing you with a long, hard, kiss, Juyeon removes the bouquet from your hands, placing it on the desk behind him. Closing the gap between your bodies, he pulls you forward as he shifts back to lean against your desk, your thighs between his knees as your arms travel up his chest and around his neck. 

The pilot tastes like mint chocolate, of which you can assume was due to his habit of brushing his teeth after he ate.

“Yo, have you looked at the production details for the-- oh my God! What the--” 

Juyeon almost refuses to release you when he can recognise Sunwoo’s voice, though you’ve already panicked and broken the kiss. 

“Oh-- Jesus-- Didn’t I tell you to knock before you come in?” Sunwoo watches you try to pull yourself away from Juyeon, but he intertwines his fingers behind your back. His head is turned around and looking at Sunwoo with the widest grin on his face. 

“Since when the Hell did you tell me to knock?” Sunwoo raises his hand in a bid to greet Juyeon, who nods in acknowledgement. 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Juyeon receives a gentle thwack on his chest. "Blame me."

"He's got a point, it's your office."  

"Whose side are you on?" 

"Ugh, I'll leave the production file here," Sunwoo tosses the glossy item onto the sofa Juyeon was previously sitting on. "Remind me never to touch your desk, like, ever."

"Bye, Sunwoo!" Juyeon calls out, pulling you closer and pasting his torso to your body. 

"Yeah, yeah, knock yourself out," Sunwoo's voice trails off as he walks out, shutting the door behind him. Your attention returns to Juyeon, eyes forming a squint again as you arch your back and look down at those playful eyes; eyes that looked like they belong to a five-year-old.

"Tsk! You--" Juyeon suddenly stands up and crashes his lips into yours again, your neck tilting upwards but resting in his palms as he cups your cheek. You can smell the breathy mint despite already tasting it, and the cologne that was wafting off his white button up top was gradually intoxicating your thoughts. The same way he was able to win you over with a gap of one year in between. 

Every muscle in his arms shifts under your fingers, the way he's kissing you feels like swimming in a pile of cotton and clouds and snow. 

He offers a soft moan before pulling away, brushing his thumb across your lower lip to clean off the smudged lip tint. "Ah," He touches his own lips. "Now everybody in your office will know we kissed." 

This time, you roll your eyes and let him kiss you on the forehead. 

Juyeon closes the car door for you, leaving you to admire the flowers in the bouquet as he walks around the vehicle. The car smells like him, and when he gets into the car, all you want to do is to jump on him and litter kisses all over his face and hug him and watch Christmas movies and--

"Again with your staring," The smirk he has on his face makes you want to barf because he's teasing with you, flirting, as if the two of you aren't already together. "Do I get to bring you to your next present or do you need more time staring at me?”

"Everything you're saying now is only making me think of when we first met." 

"How do you know I'm not doing it on purpose?"

The morning after you finally saw him again after one year.

Maybe it was the Christmas spirit that was getting to him, but you can't help but to look at him with the most done eyes you've ever given someone. 

"Alright, alright. I won't be such a prick now. We'll go, okay?"

"And where are we going?"

It takes you awhile to realise Juyeon was driving out of the city, away from the lights and further into the country side where snow collects in mounts and nobody would bother those white pillows. You would protest and ask him if he was trying to kidnap you, but all you can see is the way the snow sparkles under the street lights, the distant stars of Mars and Jupiter in the sky like a white dot in the navy canvas. 

The road ends and the vehicle comes to a stop. Juyeon gives you a secretive smile as he reaches behind and picks up a large bag, exiting the car while waiting for you to follow suit. The puffs that escape through your every exhale form tiny clouds as Juyeon holds your hand and walks down a slippery path. The both of you are tucked in thick coats and scarves and gloves but just having him with you feel so warm in itself. 

If you thought Juyeon bringing you on a helicopter ride was romantic, you thought wrong. 

The path among the trees open up into a huge space of white and blue, with the moon in the sky brimming its silver light down. 

Right before you was a frozen water body, a frozen lake. The low lighting is slightly difficult to adjust to, so by the time you've turned to Juyeon in pleasant surprise, he's gotten two pairs of skates out from the bag he took from the car. 

Juyeon pulls you to your feet after he helps you buckle your skates, and the ice below the blades pulls you nearer to him due to your lack of balance. His laughter sounds like a song by your ears, feeling his arms hold you up to your feet and his hands are on your waist to hold you still. 

Then, you are drifting across the cold space in his arms as he plasters himself to you, despite the many layers of clothing between your chests. Your head is in his shoulder, gently inhaling his scent off his coat though the snow should’ve melted it away. 

“You good?” 

A mellow hum thrums through your throat as a smile stretches itself across your lips. You look up at him, straight into those eyes of his that looked nothing short of your world. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He pulls your beanie down over your ears, one hand still on your waist and yours around his torso. “I don’t know, you’re quiet.”

“I’m enjoying the moment,” Nestling your head back into his chest, it feels like heaven and pillows and clouds and marshmallows until he tells you it’s time to go. 

By the time you’re in the car, you’ve lost count of the number of times Juyeon has lost his words in your mouth. After dumping the skates into the boot, he pulled you into the backseat, for a few minutes battling the awkward fart-sounding noises of the leather before he has you straddling his lap. 

He’s looking up at you like you were a God, and it forces chills down your spine as you tilt your head to give him exactly what he wanted. 

“Ju--” A kiss. 

“Hmm?” Another kiss. 

“We’re not staying here all night--” One more. “Are we?”

He pulls away, eyes hooded when he turns his attention to your neck. “Of course not, I have more presents for you at home.”

“What? What else did you get me?” Finding his cheeks in your palm, you pull him back to face you. But all he does is nuzzle your skin with his nose, pressing kisses into the heart of your palm with his shadowed eyes watching you. 

“You’ll find out when we get home,” Your waist feels warm just as he circles your waist with his arms. “I’d stay like this with for longer if I could, pity a day only has 24 hours. That’s too little time.”

Ugh, what a sweet talker. 

“Okay, well... I don’t want to wait until the sunrises before I can drink hot chocolate and watch Christmas movies with you so maybe we should go.”

Juyeon provides you the tiniest pout, before he relents and quickly pecks you on the cheeks.

You couldn't decide what it was that decided you deserved a life like this. There must've been something you had done in your past life to be snuggled up against Juyeon's chest, both of you in matching pajamas and two mugs of hot chocolate with marshmallows bobbing up and down inside on the table by your feet.

The blanket was covering most of you, only up to his chest while his arms are wrapped around you. The light from the television is reflecting off his face and his eyes, the amber lighting of his living room making it all the more comfortable and cozy for you. The snow outside was billowing and yet you feel so far away from danger.

He smells like lemon from his body wash and his fingers that were interlocked with yours feel warm against your skin.

Juyeon's attention was unrivalled when he doesn't notice how long you've spent staring at his side profile. He was mindlessly fiddling with your fingers under the blanket and stroking the length of your calf that was over his thighs. The movie was some stupid rom-com he said he wanted to watch, and you let him, only because he watched horror movies with you whenever you wanted.

Resting your chin on his shoulder, the physical contact finally gains his notice.

"Why? Are you sleepy? Shall we call it a day?" He picks up the remote and pauses the movie, turning to his side to face you.

"I am, but we don't have to sleep now. It's not midnight yet."

Juyeon's little smile in the corner of his lips melt your thoughts through and through, his slightly damp white highlights against his lashes. His hand travels up to rub your ears, tips slightly cool.

"Who said we need to wait till midnight?" His arm comes round your waist under the blanket and pulls you into his chest, forcing you into more or less a cradled position.b

"I don't know, wouldn't it be nice to stay away till Christmas and then I get to kiss you the first second of our first Christmas together?" Goosebumps erupt all over your skin as you cringe over what you've just said, but Juyeon likes that kind of nonsense and he laughs into your lips when he plants a kiss to them.

"There's no need to wait for Christmas, princess," Cupping your cheek in his palm, he pulls away just slightly to finish the rest of his sentence. "You can kiss me anytime you want."

“Wait,” You pull away, thumb brushing across his lower lip as his breath hits yours. He playfully raises a brow, already not in favour of the gap between your faces. “What’s my present?”

He pauses, then reads your eyes. He knows you already know what the present is. 

“Me, for the rest of your life and mine.”

[langdxn]

personal jesus | outpost!michael x reader

Here’s the thing — I adore Marilyn Manson. So obviously I’ve used his cover of Personal Jesus here because it adds a whole bunch of atmosphere, but frankly the original works just as well. Thank you so much for this! 😈

The Outpost library was as quiet as the grave. As noiseless as the decimated world above ground. Still enough to hear your own heartbeat thumping in your chest as the silence deafened.

The eighteen months you and your fellow residents — nay, inmates — spent at Outpost 3 had taken their toll on each individual differently. Some adapted to the desolate circumstances, some turned on each other. You turned on yourself.

The hopelessness of your bleak future underground fostered incurable insomnia in the clinically bronzed Outpost, sleeplessness that soon spiralled into despair. Despair that soon spiralled into suicidal tendencies. Trying any and every method to incite punishment at the hands of Ms Venable’s ruthless tyranny or, worse still, the disapproval of the man sent to evaluate everybody’s characters for suitability for a safe haven outside the underground prison.

Which led you to venture to the library armed with your one luxury item you grabbed from your bedroom before you were dragged underground — a Marilyn Manson CD. The library’s consistent soft rock soundtrack ceased for the night, but a slip of the disc into the radio and a twist of the volume knob blasted the eerie silence away.

Reach out and touch faith

You closed your eyes contentedly, melting into the industrial cacophony without a care to the early hour at which you had just stirred up the perfect punishment, as soon as those thrumming bass waves reached Ms Venable’s quarters, or even that of the new visitor, Langdon. Time was irrelevant, devoid of dusk and dawn to identify one mundane rotation of the barren earth from the next.

Your own personal Jesus

Until a hand curled around your throat and pulled you flush against a person stood behind you. A gentle gulp escaped you as you fell back, but no sound left your lips.

“Why aren’t you screaming?” The inquisitive male voice came from behind, his intonation almost musical, his deep warm breaths fanning your hair as his chest pressed against your spine. 

Someone to hear your prayers

“Would it help?” You replied coolly, gulping again as his fingers urged deeper into your windpipe, his thumb sinking a crater just below your jaw. “Get it over with.”

Someone who cares

He sighed into your neck, hovering his lips over your sensitive skin. 

“So you’re a lost cause,” he observed with a slow eloquence, words falling from his tongue as if etched in stone to last forever. “You wouldn’t care if you died right here and right now.“

Your own personal Jesus

“Nobody would miss me, my family’s dead up there in Cincinnati and I’ve been single for years,” you scoffed, dipping your head back against his shoulder, the crisp velvet of his clothing brushing the back of your neck as you exposed the column of your throat to him. “Slit my throat, save Ms Venable the bother.”

Someone to hear your prayers

“Now why would I go and do something silly like that?” His condescending tone cut clean through your misguided confidence, almost revelling in your helplessness. “It seems you need some direction, not an end to the road.”

Someone who's there

His digits applied further pressure to your windpipe, his languid breaths swirling around your ear as he contemplated his next move.

Feeling unknown and you're all alone

“Do you believe in God?” He sneered, his nose gently nudging your throat, teasing you.

Flesh and bone by the telephone 

“A God that allowed the world to burn to ashes and left me in here without so much as a vibrator?” You peered through the corner of your eye to catch a glimpse of your captor, spotting waves of spun gold cascading around his pale, familiar face. “Not a chance, Mr Langdon.”

Lift up the receiver, I’ll make you a believer

He chuckled manically, his other hand snaking slowly around your hip and resting in the valley of your pelvis atop your purple gown.

Take second best, put me to the test

“You’re facing imminent death and your first thought is touching yourself?”

His fingertips swooped further south, sending your hips bucking into his touch through the layers of silk draping your figure. 

Things on your chest that we need to confess

“Ms Venable forbids it,” you moaned weakly, eyes closing and head journeying to the ceiling. Deprivation of touch for the last 18 months made his every motion atop your heavy dress feel like a burst of electricity through your veins. “Frankly it’s the only thing that’s kept me from this suicide mission any sooner.”

I will deliver, you know I'm a forgiver

“So why tonight?” His enquiry accompanied the shuffle of his digits atop your skirt, quickly gathering the layers upon layers of fabric standing in his way. You swallowed hard against his persistent constraint on your windpipe.

Reach out and touch faith

“You,” you confessed like a forbidden sacrament, both hands subconsciously collecting the silk in bunches for him and hissing softly as the cool breeze brushed your legs. “You’ve interviewed everybody else in the Outpost already, but not me. You’ve avoided me ever since you got here.”

Your own personal Jesus

“Did you think I’d forgotten you?” He remarked sarcastically, gently planting his fingers on your inner thigh, ghosting them ever so slowly northwards until his digits reached your mound and waited there expectantly.

Feeling unknown and you're all alone

“I thought… I thought you realised I wasn’t worth questioning,” you gasped softly as your back arched into him, picking up his satisfied hums beneath his breath. “That I wouldn’t be good enough for the Sanctuary.”

Flesh and bone by the telephone

“Why would you think that?” His fingers pressed down onto your cotton panties, blazing featherlight strokes over your clit and consuming your helpless mewls with impatient taps on your throat punctuating between each drawn-out word. “You’re just as eligible as the rest of your compatriots, if not more due to your sheer tenacity of spirit.”

Lift up the receiver, I’ll make you a believer

“What’s so tenacious about—fuck,” you spluttered as he circled your bundle of nerves, reducing pressure until the very tip of his finger grazed the dampening fabric between you. “What’s tenacious about trying to commit suicide via Marilyn Manson?”

I will deliver, you know I'm a forgiver

His motions stilled, both hands firing to grip your hips and spin you around to face him. His icy blue eyes bore into yours beneath his fiery hooded lids, searching your face for a reaction. 

Reach out and touch faith

“Your ability to defy instruction, of course,” he cooed matter-of-factly while his hand sought out your heat again, fingertips slipping under your panties and surging past your clit. “Can you stay quiet for me, kitten?”

Your own personal Jesus

Without warning, his finger dipped through your folds and buried up to the knuckle in one slick thrust. Throwing yourself forward into his chest, you let out a sharp gasp and panted furiously.

“Oh my god, yes!”

Reach out and touch faith

“Indeed, your God. Now tell me,” Langdon smirked as he looked down to see your convulsions beneath him, coming undone as his finger hooked into your walls inside you. Looking back up to meet your gaze, his ocean blue eyes bled into a pitch black. “Where is your God now?”

[xtruss]

Here You Have Watches, There We Have Time

— January 19, 2016 | JosephHouse

The landscape of northern Mali.

During his years spent in the Sahara Desert, Charles de Foucuald (1858-1916) was a solitary European and Christian presence among the indigenous Tuaregs of the region. Wanting to know them better, Charles learned their stories and poetry and worked on a French-Tuareg dictionary. He drew detailed pictures of everyday Tuareg life, from musical instruments to hair braids. He wanted to know the soul of the people. He wanted to be their brother.

Rene Voillaume, founder of the Little Brothers of Jesus, said that Charles joined “his total dedication to the welfare of the Tuaregs [with] an attentive, realistic charity and a very strong sense of justice.” Loving the Tuaregs was Charles’ school for loving God.

Charles and Ouksem Ag Chikkat, a Tuareg friend.

The Tuaregs, these nomadic tribes with their distinctive blue robes, remain a mystery to many people today. Below is an interview with a modern-day Tuareg living in France. Moussa Ag Assarid was born in northern Mali around 1975. The desire for additional education led him to France in 1999. He has worked as a journalist, actor, tour guide, and writer. Moussa wrote an autobiographical account of his journeys in a book, There are No Traffic Jams in the Desert: Chronicles of a Tuareg in France.

Moussa was interviewed in 2011 by Victor M. Amelain for ARIEL Magazine (the link to the original article is below). This candid conversation gives insight into the world-view of a people who were important in the life of Charles, the spiritual father of the Joseph House and the Little Sisters.

An interview with Moussa Ag Assarid:

I don’t know my age. I was born in the Sahara desert, with no papers! I was born in a nomadic camp of Tuaregs, between Timbuktu and Gao, in the north of Mali. I have been a shepherd of camels, goats, sheep and cows for my father. Today I study Management in the University of Montpellier. I am a bachelor. I serve as an advocate for the Tuareg shepherds.

What a beautiful headdress!

It is a fine cotton fabric: it allows me to cover my face in the desert when the wind blows sand, and allows me to continue to see and to breathe through it.

It is a beautiful blue color.

We Tuaregs have long been called “the blue men” because of this color. Interestingly the fabric loses the color and transfers some of the blue ink onto our skin.

How do you get this intense blue?

From a plant called indigo, mixed with other natural pigments. The blue, for the Tuaregs, is the color of the world.

Why?

It’s the dominant color, of the sky, the roof of our home.

Who are the Tuareg?

Tuareg means ‘abandoned’, because we are an old nomadic tribe of the desert. We are lonely and proud: masters of the desert, they call us. Our ethnic group is Amazigh (or Berber), and our alphabet is the Tifinagh.

How many are there of you?

Approximately three million, the majority still are nomadic. But the population is decreasing. A wise man said it is necessary for a tribe to disappear to realize they existed. I am working to preserve this tribe.

What do they do for a living?

We shepherd camels, goats, sheep, cows and donkeys in an infinite kingdom of silence.

Is the desert really so silent?

If you are on your own in that silence you hear your heart beat. There is no better place to meet yourself.

What memories do you have of your childhood in the desert?

I wake up with the sun. The goats of my father are there. They give us milk and meat, and we take them were there is water and grass. My great-grandfather did it, and my grandfather, and my father, and me. There was nothing else in the world than that, and I was very happy!

Really? It doesn’t sound very exciting.

It is. At the age of seven you can go alone away from the compound, and for this you are taught the important things—to smell the air, to listen, to see, to orient with the sun and the stars…and to be guided by the camel if you get lost. He will take you where there is water.

This sounds like valuable knowledge, no doubt.

Everything is simple and profound there. There are very few things, and each one has enormous value.

So that world and this one are very different.

There, every little thing gives happiness. Every touch is valuable. We feel great joy just by touching each other, being together. There, nobody dreams of becoming, because everybody already is.

What shocked you most on your first trip to Europe?

I saw people running in the airport. In the desert you only run if a sandstorm is approaching! It scared me, of course.

They were going after their baggage.

Yes, that was it. I also saw signs with naked women. Why this lack of respect for the woman? I wondered. Then at the hotel I saw the first faucet of my life: I saw the water run and wanted to cry.

Because of the waste, the abundance?

Every day of my life had been involved in seeking water. When I see the ornamental fountains here and there, I still feel an intense pain.

Why?

In the early 90s there was a big drought, animals died, and we became sick. I was about twelve years old and my mother died. She was everything to me! She used to tell me stories and taught me to tell stories. She taught me to be myself.

What happened to your family?

I persuaded my father to let me go to school. Every day I walked fifteen kilometers, until one teacher gave me a bed to sleep in and a woman gave me food when I walked by her house. I then understood what was happening; my mother was helping me.

Where did you get interested in school?

A few years before the Paris-Dakar motor rally came through the compound and a journalist dropped a book from her backpack. I picked it up and gave it to her. She gave it to me and talked to me about that book: “The Little Prince.” I promised myself that I would be able to read it one day.

And you did.

Yes, and because of that I won a scholarship to study in France.

A Tuareg going to college!

Ah, what I most miss here is the camel milk. And the wood fires. And walking barefoot on the warm sand. And the stars. We watched them every night, every star is different, just as every goat is different. Here, in the evenings, you watch TV.

That is true. What do you dislike the most here?

You have everything, and it is still not enough for you. You complain. In France people complain all the time! You chain yourself to a bank; everyone is anxious to have things, to have possessions. Everyone is in a rush. In the desert there are no traffic jams, and do you know why? Because there nobody is interested in getting ahead of other people.

Two Tuareg men in Mali.

Tell me about a moment of deep happiness for you in the desert.

It happens every day, two hours before sunset. The heat decreases, there is still no cold air, and men and animals slowly return to the compound, and their profiles are painted against a sky that is pink, blue, red, yellow, green.

That sounds fascinating.

It’s a magical moment. We all get into the tents and we boil tea. Sitting in silence we listen to the sound of the boiling water. We are immersed in calmness, with our the heart beating to the rhythm of the boiling water, potta potta potta……

How peaceful.

Yes…here you have watches; there, we have time.

[shiftylinguini]

Do you take prompts? If not, have a nice day, but if so, I love your Bound series, and I was wondering if you'd consider a prequel about Remus first realizing that he's both desperate for, and desperately possessive of, Sirius, when they were back in school.

YES, hello, I do, however it goes without saying that it takes me forever to actually post them LOL. Anyway, I wrote this yonks ago and tidied it up this afternoon because I was in a Mood, and here we go. 

Warnings for jealousy, Hogwarts era, casual promiscuity and references to Sirius/OFC, werewolfy imagery, Irish Remus and general angst regarding boys being careless with each others’ feelings. enjoy! lol. 

It’s Halloween, and Remus is miserable.

***

It’s Halloween, and Remus is miserable.

There's a party in the dungeons; the Slytherins are hosting. "They're twats," James declared before he left their dorms, deliberately dishevelled in his pirate costume, a cutlass dangling from one hand and cider in the other. "But they throw a good piss up."

Peter agreed, predictably affable and struggling into his Peter Pan outfit. Sirius ignored them both, concentrating on doing his eyeliner right. He's a self-declared glam rock icon tonight, black glitter and flares and Marc Bolan curls. His pirate costume (second mate to James's Hook, of course) lay discarded on his bed in favour of something louder, more offensive, more Muggle.

They've all been too polite to ask why. (They all know it's because Regulus might be there).  

The party probably is good. Remus isn't there.

He was there, for an hour or so. Just long  enough for two chipped mugs of butterbeer heavily spiked with cheap whiskey and to see Sirius with his tongue down Margot Holdings' throat, his lipstick smearing crimson onto hers.

Remus begged off then, made his escape after throwing James some crap excuse about how the moon two nights ago was still making him feel woozy. James knew it was bullshit. He said nothing though, and let Remus scarper off like a kicked dog. James is the best of mates that way; he bulldozes through most conversations and into people's lives but he knows when to be quiet, how to keep a secret.

When to let Remus skulk off to their dorm to hide in his bunk and stew about Sirius.

Remus pulls the curtains tight. He kicks his shoes off, but leaves the rest of his costume as it is, pressing his face to the pillow and probably smearing lazy Dracula greasepaint all over it. It was a half-arsed effort, really. Three quarter-arsed, at best; Remus doesn't like dressing up as monsters. (He has enough of a time playing human).

He closes his eyes, then opens them again. He huffs grumpily against the pillow, wriggling to get comfortable and failing. He feels crap. He has no valid excuse for it―not one he's willing to admit to.

James knows about Remus and Sirius, and the bed hopping between them. He has ears, and eyes, and the dorm's not that big. It's not really a secret. The four of them just act like it's one, for everybody's sake.

Whatever it is, it's usually just a mess. And not a particularly monogamous one.

Remus has no reason to be upset about it. He and Sirius aren't an item. They're something, but Sirius isn't breaking any rules by snogging pretty girls under dimmed party lights. It might be nice if he didn't do it in front of Remus, but it also might be nice if he hadn't tried to make Remus a murderer two years ago. There's a lot of ways they could be nicer to each other. In perspective, the kissing doesn't seem that bad.

Remus could do the same, and might, if he trusted himself around anyone other than Sirius. (If there were girls as pretty as Sirius).

Remus doesn't trust himself with people other than Sirius, though. He's bookish and boring and plain and sometimes he daydreams about ripping his classmates apart. He's tall and pleasant and polite, and he's forever five years old, a rag doll in a wolf's jaws in a field in Ireland, changed and scarred. Sirius gets it, even if he can be a prick. He pushes buttons. He lights up the room. He gets under Remus's skin and makes him feel sane at the same time. He's one of the few people Remus trusts himself and the wolf around, even if he doesn't really trust Sirius anymore. Sirius fucked that right up for the both of them. It's confusing, but Remus is smart. He'll figure his way around it.

He devours books instead, pages and scrolls and tomes. He tries to be boring. He tries to be plain. He tries to be someone people like but mostly forget, the nice Irish lad tagging along with loud James and cocky Sirius and sweet Peter. He worries sometimes that he's doing it too well.

He tries not to think of Margot's hands on Sirius's waist, but he falls asleep to fevered images of them just the same.

***

Remus half-wakes to the <i>swish</i> of curtains flinging open. There's a low giggle and then the thump of platform boots hitting the floor.

"Moony." The bed dips. "Moooonyyy."

Remus is half asleep, surfacing from dreams he's already forgetting. He snuffles into his pillow, as if he can bury himself like a mole and back into sleep.

He's almost back asleep when he feels arms wrapping around his chest, Sirius spooning up behind him. He smells like alcohol, the remnants of cologne and clean sweat. He smells like someone else too; Remus shuts that thought down as quickly as he can, but it's too late. That little wolfy part of him that doesn't vanish with the full moon is always attuned to these things, pricking up its ears and growling low and threatening. Remus feels it in his belly. He's wide awake now.

"Sirius," he whispers, low and annoyed. He swallows. "You know this isn't your bed, yeah?" he grumbles.

Sirius laughs. He's drunk, loose and pliant. Remus doesn't know if that means he fucked her. He could tell, if he tried, if he let the wolf sniff her out. He's not going to do that though. He's got to have some self respect.

Sirius snake arms squeeze around him tighter. His knees are tucked up behind Remus's. "I couldn't find you," he slurs. "And then James said you were sad." Sirius exhales on a half yawn.

Remus waits, but Sirius doesn't say more, as if this is enough of an explanation as to why he's crawled into Remus's bed and wrapped around him like a vine.

Honestly, it is. Sirius can be complex, and sometimes he can be impressively simple.

And if Remus keeps his eyes shut, and doesn't look at the time on his watch, then he can pretend it's only been half an hour since he left the party―that Sirius noticed quickly and didn't stay on for hours, 'til dawn was approaching and the morning birds were chirping, didn't finger Margot behind a statue and kiss her neck until he left marks and then saunter back to his other mates, proud and loose-limbed and swigging whiskey before working up a sweat on the makeshift dance floor. That he didn't ask James as an afterthought once he'd had his fun, <i>hey, where did Mooney bugger off to?</i> That he didn't come and hop into Remus's bed as a way to end his night instead of the purpose of it.

It's a night thought. It's horse shit, and Remus knows it, but if he never sees the time then it will never be confirmed. If a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, if your best mate is a careless prick but you weren't there to see it, then did it really happen?

Behind him, Sirius's breath gusts over the back of his neck, and then again. The rhythm of sleep. His chest rises and falls easily, pressed all up against Remus's back, hips flush against Remus's pyjama-clad thighs. Remus keeps his own breathing shallow, tries not to breathe him in. It makes his head spin a little, not quite enough oxygen getting into his lungs. He's wide awake, and so is the wolf, the scar on his shoulder prickling like pins and needles and his senses tingling too.

His pillow is going to smell like Sirius for days now after this, longer if he hides the case from the elves and doesn't let them wash it. He'll want to roll in it, smell like Sirius, rub his face over the plain cotton and mouth at it until his breath dampens the pillow and Remus can taste it on his tongue. He might let himself do it. He'll hate himself afterwards, but he might let himself all the same.

He blinks, his vision swimming a little from his half-held breath before he gasps down a lungful, and there it is. Sirius all around him, thick in the air. He smells sweet, and sleepy, relaxed and content, and with a bitter pang Remus can smell her too. The wolf inside him can smell her. Remus braces for the comforting lurch of anger, of rage, for gnashing teeth and snarling lips, but it doesn't come.

There's a whine building in his chest instead, something sad and bereft, hurt. It feels like ears pulled back against his head, like a soft muzzle pressed against the cold ground. It sounds like a kicked dog, crawling on its belly back for more anyway.

Remus sniffs, blinking the sting away from his eyes and feeling his lashes come away wet. He curls a fist into his blanket, fingers tense and his breath shaky as he alternates between short sharp breaths and letting himself breath Sirius in, his chest tight from more than Sirius's boa constrictor arms. His eyes droop eventually, his face sore from frowning, but sleep hovers in his periphery like the moon slipping out of view over a highway.

Remus is too smart to fall for Sirius. The wolf isn't.

***

[sleepdeprivedheretic]

Momo Ōkami

Notes: I….just, here *hands you this fic *. I may work as a housekeeper, but I’m in the mood for something dirty, I’ll tell you that. Jokes aside, I really miss writing self indulgent stuff :’) I got the title from Momotaro and Okami bc I’m not original and I needed a title :’)

Genre: Some angst, but enough fluff to drown cotton candy in bc boy am I a sap

Au: Yokai Au

Warnings: Reader’s a simp (and I am too), incorrect knowledge of everything, kinda slowburn, arranged marriage, “kidnapping”, smut, and kinks.  

……………

    After the old Oni of the mountain had passed away or moved out, another one simply took his place. He was different, you could tell. Soft yellow hair, bright amber eyes, and healthy, peach colored skin had given away that he wasn’t full Oni. Yes he was tall, muscular, and had a roundness to his stomach and face, but he wasn’t as fearsome nor tall as the former one who terrorized your forest for years.  

Belonging to one of the most powerful clans in the forest, you and your family were still wary of the new half-ogre yokai. Although seemingly peaceful, one could never be too careful. Especially whenever you made your nightly trips around the mountain roads at night for fresh rabbit or deer, you knew that he was staring at you. It didn’t bother you like you thought it did, for this type of staring felt different. As if he was taking your character in from curiosity, rather than with malicious intent.

 You found yourself returning his curiosities, staring up at the mountain, venturing a little too close to his home as you seen him tend to normal, almost domestic things, such as feeding chickens or adding wood to the fire. He seemed to live a peaceful life, his life did not revolve around the other Oni, such as terrorizing and eating humans, or causing mischief and grief upon others. At times he’d catch you staring, and when the two of your eyes have met, it felt such an odd intimacy between the both of you, you felt emotions that were very akin to a human’s, swell within you, and couldn’t find yourself to hate them. After a few months of playing this odd little game, it escalated.      

 You and your family were called Okuri-Okami, or “sending off wolf”. It didn’t take a smart person to figure it out, with your family making daily trips around the mountains, playing this life or death game with innocent travelers, and had a reputation of being although not the noblest, but an old and respected clan within the forest. You yourself weren’t really into eating the villagers who still thought that your kin were noble, going as far as building a shrine for your family and gift them food and nice things for not eating them. Humans were odd, and the fact that you could transform into your human form, made it more difficult to stomach the thought of eating them, to your parent’s disapproval.  

When the Oni had caught wind that you weren’t into eating humans, he’d started acting different. At first you didn’t understand why, but he’d started to indulge you by waiting for your own nightly routine to start, and start walking several steps ahead of you, letting you to purposely “escort him to safety”. He would never trip, and even if he did, you weren’t the type to pounce and try to gobble anybody up, unlike most of your kin. You were sure that your kind didn’t eat Oni, and so it confused the ever loving hells out of you when he started this little game out of the blue.

When you “escorted” him to the mountain pass which led to his home, he’d say “Thanks for seein’ me off, Darlin’” in such a smooth and husky voice, you couldn’t but help feel the warm, familiar emotions flutter within you. He would skip a night, only for gifts such as sekihan, deer meat, or other small little things for you to appear at the edge of his territory. Not knowing what to really do, you accepted the gifts with a mix of confusion and gratitude, and the next night, he would be there with a giant smile.

“My name’s Taishiro.” He broke the awkwardness between the two of you, and you caved in and gave him your name, liking the way it rolled off of his tongue.

 Months had passed. The two of you started talking more often as he walked next to you rather closely, stepping in pace right next to yours as he did so. You were a little shy, but his warm aurora and bright smiles and twinkling eyes crumbled your resolve rather quickly. You began to use your clothed human form, letting him take in your feminine features, feeling a pleasing warmth whenever you noticed that he stared at you a little longer than usual, or would have pink dust settle on his cheeks.

You had to admit, he was very handsome, as well. You tried your best to sneak glances, but would turn beet red and look away whenever you felt that he had caught you red-handed. He would chuckle and it fed the fire growing within you.

“I better not trip, or you’ll eat me up, Sugar.” He gave a wink, and you swore that time had froze when he said that, then you would flush furiously and let out a growl mixed in with an embarrassed whine, causing him to bellow with laughter. To say that you had grown closer to him, was an understatement of the century.

He learned slowly but surely that you were the only child of your parents, how you never wanted to feed on human flesh, and that you didn’t know what to do with your life. He listened thoroughly and replied with his own words of encouragement and that he was glad that you didn’t feed upon humans, for that would make it awkward. When asked why, he finally opened up to you. His mother was human and his father was an Oni. Growing up for him was harsh because everybody knew what his father was, and there was very little his mother could do to protect him. So he left, and kept traveling until he found a more remote forest with very little villagers around. Although he didn’t hate humans, his mother was one, and he was half. It gave you a sense of sympathy for him, and it strengthened your resolve to never become like your parents, and he broke the boundaries of your physical contact by gently patting your shoulder.

That was another thing, touches. He would always find an excuse to touch you, whether it be a simple head pat, ruffling hair, gently squeezing your hand, or other soft, platonic touches that left you all too warm and all too disappointed when he’d break away, grinning brightly and seemingly too unaware of the affect that he has a hold onto you. It made you feel a little more braver as the nights and days would pass, ever so softly returning the hugs he gave you, and shyly yet surely pat his shoulder or gently squeeze his arms or hands. A rush of prideful victory swelled within you as you noticed that his eyes would soften or blood would rush to his cheeks. You liked this man, and didn’t know how to really handle your growing feelings for him.

You didn’t dare tell your parents. Already they were disappointed in you that you refused to eat humans, and now you were corresponding with a half-breed Oni? Sure you could live somewhere else, and break yourself away from your small pack, but if you did that, then they would run you out of the forest for good, that, or kill you. A sadness overcame you that you realized that you wouldn’t be able to see Taishiro, anymore if you were gone. You’ve grown very fond of him, and it surprised you on how easily he tore down your defenses, and instead of feeling vulnerable, you felt very warm and comfortable. It was scary, because although you knew you were on thin ice with your parents, you didn’t mind taking risks to just be near the tender giant.  

  Soon, it all came to a freezing halt as your parents sat you down one day, and began to speak to you with the familiar coldness lacing their tones of voices.  

“You’re old enough now to start a family and live away from us. The Tanuki living in the eastern shrine has offered a handsome dowry of fine meats and Sake for your hand in marriage. Your father and I will worry about the guests and your attire, so don’t worry.” Was the harsh slap of reality. You knew that your parents will not let you have a say in it. In your pack’s mind, it was true. You weren’t a pup, anymore, you were unclaimed, and you didn’t fit in with your clan’s expectations or traditions. You were now chained to their final decision of just marrying you off, thus you were prevented from doing your nightly routines, leaving your mother to educate you in being a good wife, and your father to plan the wedding and invite guests.

 You missed him. Although two days had passed, you were kept inside your family’s little shrine as your mother doted on your outfit and hair. Your father had been gathering the guests and materials and plans for the wedding as you tried to worry on how to act as a wife and take care of your husband, but your thoughts kept venturing back to Tai, hoping that he wasn’t disappointed or too upset. A voice within you wished that he was your betrothed, instead, and you weren’t really surprised with that thought.

….……………..

The little wolf intrigued him. Instead of being frightened by him, she just waltzed up on that mountain as if she owned the place, not caring who or what he is, and he knew from that day on, he was hooked. He couldn’t help but play a little game with her, courting her with gifts and make it known that he was interested. The canine yokai took a spell to warm up to him, and he wouldn’t doubt that she still didn’t know that he was courting her, but to be honest, it was a treat seeing how she blossomed, coming out from her shyness. He was more pleased and surprised that she began her own little venturing, returning his small touches and face would resemble a fire as he caught her admiring him or trying to reach out and initiate a small touch. Nobody had ever done that for him, and he doubted that she had the same attention. He tugged away from the dark, possessive thoughts that lurked.  

It didn’t take long for him to develop romantic feelings for the woman. He had to keep beating away his father’s bloodline of just wanting to take. He wasn’t like his father, and she deserved to be courted, not be treated like his mother. He fought off a dark shudder of disgust as his mind went back to his wolf. Granted, she was also very pretty, and had stopped using her wolf form. Doe eyes and a cute, warm smile have had been greeting him for some time, now, and when it stopped, he panicked. Was she hurt? She wouldn’t just up and disappear, right? It wasn’t a dream, he knew that she was very real. Questions and thoughts had haunted him for about two days as he tried his best to follow her scent. Usually he wanted to mind his own business and not bother with traveling down into the heart of the forest, but he felt desperate.

Where was his little wolf? He tried asking the animals as well as other yokai, but they all ran in fear, leaving him no answers. He knew that she came from a very prominent clan, what if they found out about him? What if they had enough of her stubborn nature and just decide to finish her off? He felt a mix of panic and anger as he all but tried to follow her fading scent, internally promising a lifetime’s worth of hell on anybody who dared to lay a finger on her.        

   Her scent, although a little faded, was stronger at the shrine. Was she there? He knew that she wasn’t scared of him, nor would she hide from him. The sound of bells snapped him out of his thoughts as he ventured more closely to the shrine, peeping from behind it.

………………

   Your mother told you that you looked beautiful, but really, you didn’t care. Your parents were way too eager to hand you away, they didn’t bother to host a meeting with your future husband, no. Your father gathered a small party of his and your mother’s friends, a Shinto priest (that they’ll probably eat later), and the awaited guest, your betrothed. It was a small, Shinto wedding mixed in with other elements that your parents thought that the Tanuki, your betrothed, might like. You wore a traditional Shiro-Muku, symbolizing your purity, and had your hair tied into a bun with a beautiful hair piece. It wasn’t much, but your thoughts kept racing back to the possibility that you might just make a run for it.

Granted, you did try for the last two days, all but kicking and screaming, but your parents were more powerful, and although you were not weak, by any means, your shrine was surrounded by yokai who were at your parent’s bidding, and you yourself could not fight off every single one. If you could manage to get to the mountains, you knew that Tai would scare and keep every bad thing away from you. You had since accepted your feelings for him, and knew that he would protect you if not as a lover, then definitely as a friend.

Your heart was aching, and you knew that you were going to make a break for it at the wedding ceremony. Possibly tarnishing your parent’s reputation, and angering the Tanuki, but you found yourself just not caring. Your father didn’t even bother to knock on the paper walls, you could hear his footsteps coming your way.

“It’s time.” He said, and you got up to follow him outside. The hood of your wedding attire shielded you from the sun that you haven’t seen directly in a couple of days. You had to admit, the smell of fresh air was very enticing compared to the shrine’s settling dust and your parent’s scents.

Anxiety rose within you as you realized that this wasn’t a lucid dream, this was happening. You wished that your parents have had given you more time to process the knowledge that you were to be wedded away, to live in another forest with a husband and his yokai that you didn’t know, and you were going to be separated from everyone. A dark thought passed through you. If you were mistreated or hurt, your parents would never know, and if they did, they’d do the bare minimum for you.

Honestly? It pissed you off. You knew the only person who could ever care for you this much would probably tear down the whole forest, and he was probably searching for you this moment, if your doubts and fears kept telling you that he probably thought that you weren’t interested, anymore. It hurt, all the doubts and wondering if you’ll ever see him again clouding your emotions. You tried to focus on the small wedding. It was very thoughtful and beautiful. Your father’s friend, a Kitsune, lit small blue flames around, they floated around the small number of guests and your betrothed, who you now took notice of. He was giving a cheeky grin as your eyes met, and although you didn’t feel the same, you thought it would be polite to offer a weak smile in return.

As your father led you to the priest and the Tanuki, thoughts of running away kept running through your head. Just as you began to slip your hand out of your father’s strong grasp, a familiar scent hit you with almost full force. Your father stopped, as well, taking notice of the shift of atmosphere. Time didn’t seem to slow down as heavy footsteps cracked upon the branches, getting closer to the area as everybody froze in panic. You couldn’t help but feel elated, but also worried. His usual sandalwood and sweet vanilla scent, was now spiked with a darker edge to it, but you knew that it wasn’t aimed at you.

…………………

    His blood froze in shock as he realized what was behind the shrine. A wedding. Your wedding. No doubt that it was put together quickly. Before he had time to really take the information in, the doors of the shrine opened, and out you came, being led by your father. Although he admitted quietly to himself that the outfit fit you well, you looked so sad and had little bags underneath your eyes and his chest tightened at the realization. You didn’t want this. As if lost in your own thoughts, he noticed that you subconsciously begin to look around, for him no doubt. A dark, possessive anger hit him as he realized that your father was gripping you a little too tightly, and the Tanuki was eyeing you in a way that made his own blood boil. Without thinking, he acted.

All the wedding guests seemed to be frozen in fear as he stormed up to the area, the need to just take you away gripped him ever so strongly when the two of your eyes met. Your cold expression turned to that one laced with relief and guilt as if silently pleading him to just take you somewhere safe. Taking the silent hint, he smacked your father’s hands away. Coming out of his shock, he started yelling.

“Who in the hells do you think you are?” You father’s face was a beet red, as his eyes all but bugged out in anger. Huffing, the Oni growled out as he picked you up neatly into his arms as if you didn’t weigh but a feather, holding your shocked self closely to his chest.

“I’m her mate. Never bother her or us ever again.” He snapped, and before anybody could have time to process the fact that you were about to be willingly abducted, he bolted as he carried you safely back to his cave, or your new home. He knew that the yokai wouldn’t dare touch an Oni like him, even if he is a half-breed, he still carried the demonic blood of his ancestors. He liked to fight, he was use to it, but he wouldn’t hurt your family if he could help it. He kept sneaking glances at you, who in turn was blushing and glancing up at him owlishly. His heart-beat picked up at the small smile on your face and you looked so relieved, and he knew that he did the right thing.  

Your home wasn’t too far away from his cave, but there were twists and turns of trees and the old beaten path was starting to be covered up by growing shrubs. It was cool and dark, and he felt you shiver a little in his arms, and he hummed as he placed you gently onto the furs, covering you up a bit. A calm quiet enveloped the two of you as he held onto you, letting you soak up his warmth as he gently drew circles on your hands.

“I’ll get some firewood and heat us up, alright?” He broke the silence, and you nodded. Taking a last look at you, he left the cave as the disbelief in his own actions clouded his thoughts.

…………..

You were in the twilight zone. First, a surprise marriage, and then you let yourself willingly get abducted by Tai, who was very blunt about his feelings towards you, thus reciprocating your own feelings for him, and now your new home was here. Although relieved and feeling very, very safe, you were so tired from the swirling of chaotic emotions that rocked your normal stagnant world. The warmth of the fur skins and Tai’s heat that he gave you soothed your nerves as your world gently faded into black.

You awoke to a soft snoring and the crackling of fire licking at the wood that he had chopped. When you tried to move, you noticed that the searing warmth was from Tai himself as his arms were wrapped around you, hugging you close to his chest. You couldn’t help but wiggle a little, feeling a little too warm as he murmured something, cracking an eye open.

“Hey.” He said softly, eyes staring down at you with such a gentle emotion.

“Hello.” You answered back, and he gave a lofty chuckle.

“Didn’t mean to get too carried away, there. Couldn’t bear it, seein’ ya so sad...n’ other things.” He admitted calmly, yet his thundering heartbeat gave away his nervousness. You felt your emotions soften with warmth at the notion, looking up at him through your lashes.

“They kept me guarded in the shrine, because they knew what I was planning.” Your cheeks reddened as you continued, and he listened carefully. “I was going to run to you, if I’ve gotten the chance.���  

He looked at you with slight surprise, but the smile stretching across his face was there in an instant as his eyes twinkled with warmth.

“So, we’re married, now? Husband n’ wife?” He asked hopefully as he changed the subject. Such a jovial and excited feeling flooded through you as he mentioned the titles. Yes, wife, you were his wife. Although there wasn’t a ceremony binding you, the two of you were already emotionally bonded, and it was more than you could ask for. Nodding with enthusiasm, you looked at him fully.

“Yes...I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You tasted out the sentence, liking the way it rolled off of your tongue at the fact. At first he seemed to be frozen from mild shock, but then you gave a surprised whimper as he shuffled you closer to him, enveloping you in a heartfelt kiss. It felt so warm, and so right as he took his time in tasting you, running his tongue over the roof of your mouth, your molars, and then sucking gently on your own tongue. You let out a soft whine at the feeling, trying your best to reciprocate his actions as he gripped you a little more tightly, yet squeezing you gently as he let out a surprised grunt of approval as you couldn’t help but deepen the kiss, absentmindedly shifting your leg against his intimate area as he slowly broke away as a string of spittle connected your mouths.

     The both of you were breathing heavily, but you looked almost wrecked, and he didn’t even touch you more intimately, yet. Heat pooled between your legs and you bit off an embarrassed whine as you realized that he could probably scent your arousal. You looked at him, and he was returning your admiring gaze with such a burning fervor, you couldn’t help but kiss him again. He moaned a little in surprise, but then relaxed as he hummed with approval at your boldness.

Breaking away, he chuckled softly as he ran a hand down your back, tucking your chin up ever so gently to look at him.

“Ya know I’ve been wantin’ this for a while. Seein’ yer shy self just bloom up fer me, n’ leavin’ such soft touches will make a pent up man go crazy, Sweetheart.” He bravely admitted, liking the way although your face was probably burning up right now, you were looking up at him with such a hungry stare, he groaned as he couldn’t help but kiss you for the third time, liking the way that you were practically salivating at his suggestive thoughts.  After breaking away, you panted softly as you let the burning emotions flutter through you as you eyed him.

“I love you.” You admitted, leaving him to look down at you with the same killer softness that made you so warm and ticklish inside as he pulled you tighter into his chest.

“I love ya too, Darlin’.” He kissed your head endearingly as the two of you cuddled in silence, enjoying the intimacy. Although it was nice, you still had an unfamiliar itch to scratch, and you knew that he could probably scent out your arousal, but was waiting on you to say something, first. So you did.

“I’d like to consummate our marriage.” You admitted in a tone in which you almost didn’t recognize. He looked at you with very little surprise, and then he stared down at you with such a dark and needy fervor, it made you squirm with need.

“I know that there’s a chance that we’ll do it anyway, but do ya really know whatcha’re askin’ for?” He asked slowly, and you shook your head.

“I still have demon lineage, I’m constantly fightin’ myself from takin’ what I want. It was worse today, y’know? What if I was too late? What if ya were already gone, an’ I never saw ya again? It’s not yer fault, but I had to push down some very dark emotions today.” He explained slowly, making sure that you were well informed. You knew what he was talking about, but you wanted him to say it.

“What are you talking about, Tai?” You asked.

“I wanted to just take ya away somewhere safe, but at the same time, I wanted to just pin you down on the forest floor, n’ just…” He breathed in slowly, as if shamefully admitting this, yet the both of you knew that your heartbeat started to accelerate as his grip on you tightened a little, making you a beacon to the thoughts that were running through his mind. Even though the both of you got the hint on what he was talking about, his eyes burned through you with a dark lust as he dared to finish his sentence.

“...fuck you senseless. I hadda fight down those emotions, an’ they’re still pretty bad. We can try tonight, but I don’t know how or if I can handle them durin’ an intense and emotional time such as love-makin’.” He bit his lip as he quieted, looking at you with worrying, almost pleading expression that you wouldn’t judge. Heat crept upon your cheeks as you reached up and cupped his face, he felt himself relax underneath your gentle gaze as time seemed to stand still.

“I trust you. Besides, I don’t know if my parents will be foolish enough to try to take me away from behind your back, but I know that if I’m claimed, they won’t even bother.” You admitted truthfully, helping the both of you to just take the final leap of faith. He nodded in your hands, eyes burning bright.

“I’ll ask ya one last time, are ya sure? You’re playin’ with somethin’ dangerous, because I don’t think I can trust myself. I’ll do my best to never hurt ya, but still….are. Ya. Sure?” He drew out the words, making sure that you knew what you were getting in to. Honestly? You wanted him. You trusted him, and if he lets himself go, you wanted that part of him, too. You nodded, telling him verbally yes, and he delivered.

 He flipped you onto your back, hovering above you, and you couldn’t help out a low whine of approval. The crackling fire made his muscles and fat glisten with sweat as he stared down at you with such an intensity burning through his amber eyes, you thought that you could probably come undone just by the sight, alone.

…………………….

He knew just from your scent, that you’ve been aroused for quite some time, and honestly? It fed his ego a bit too much, especially how you stared up at him, practically drooling with want as your eyes unabashedly wandered all over him. It made him feel very, very wanted. He moved first, not taking too long to chuck off your wedding attire, pulling out the hairpiece as your hair fell gracefully around you. Not wanting you to be the only one, he stripped, as well, throwing his and your clothes away somewhere as the two of you drank each other in.

 He was feeling a little too warm, seeing you bared out for him, naked, flushed, and what really made his cock twitch, was that you were wet. Your face was red and you looked so shy and vulnerable, especially when you were seeing his cock, all heavy and swollen, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness and need. He kissed you again, more slowly and sweetly, letting the roughness of his calloused hands rub against your skin, letting his thumb brush heavily against a nipple. He held in a gasp as you moaned into his mouth, accidentally brushing your other leg against his dick for the second time in your hazy pleasure, him feeling his pre-cum smear onto your hot skin.

Deepening the kiss, he let himself bite and suck at your lower lip, letting his tongue slide over the sting, as if in a quiet apology. You whined, hands were fisted into his hair now as you returned such favors, although a little too sloppily. He didn’t mind. In fact, he lowered his mouth, feeling the pulse of your throat hum with a surprised yelp as he chuckled, and then harshly sucked, making sure to leave bruises for everybody to see. He groaned as your fingers pulled his hair tighter towards you, and licked the reddening marks in apology, but he really wasn’t sorry, for you were all but chanting his name as in a trance with need.      

Taishiro pulled away, admired the sight, seeing how your body was glistening underneath the crackle of firelight, little sweat droplets rolled off of the peak of your breasts as they jiggled from your panting from another intense kiss. The image will forever be burned within his brain as you looked up at him from cloudy, hazy eyes and swollen lips from his biting and sucking.    

He felt a dark, possessive feeling crept up upon him. Although in control, he did try to warn you, he didn’t want to succumb to his darker desires, especially with you. You were so willing and wet, and blushing, he plunged down the dark thoughts as he lifted up your right leg. An embarrassed sound escaped you, but he chuckled as he started kissing and giving small, feather-like licks on the inside of your thigh and the back of your knee, enjoying the sharp, surprised, and excited gasps that came out of your lips. He wasn’t even close to starting, yet, and yet here you were, aroused scent heightening at the intimate suckles that he was now lavishing on the back of your thigh and leg. You were so cute.

Licking his thumb, he pressed it against your perked nipple, watching your face as he flicked the nub, seeing how much you liked and reveled with the physical attention. He knew that he was stalling from the main event, but he just really wanted to take his time with you, his newlywed wife. A thought passed his mind as he first brushed against your folds, causing you to jump at the slight contact. He probably needed to be gentle. He was so much bigger than your small form, and also...well...he knew that you weren’t experienced. Truthfully, he didn’t care, and loved you no matter what, but he knew that he had to be extra cautious. He never wanted to hurt you, and he knew that he was big.  

So he began rubbing your clitoris and entrance, making sure that your natural juices acted as lubricant to your sensitive, raw bud as he licked a stripe down your inner calve, relishing in the way you let out a pleased mewl. He chuckled.  

“You liked that, Sweetheart?” He murmured against your flushed skin. You nodded as he slipped in two fingers, scissoring them gently and slowly into the almost too tight heat as he eyed you, taking in your small reactions of pleasure mixed with discomfort.

“Actually, I think I want to taste ya.” He said aloud, not hesitating to spread your legs further apart as he bent down to the point in where your flushed, dripping sex was right in front of him. You moaned in surprise, legs automatically tightening around his head as he let out a soft groan as he flicked his tongue against your sopping entrance. Sweet and divine was what you tasted like, and he decided to open you up slowly with his fingers as he also tongue-fucked you.

Your whimpers were the sweetest as you writhed beneath him, legs trembling and hands gripped all too tightly in his hair as he hummed in pleasure at your secretions covering his mouth and chin as he delved three fingers and his fat tongue into almost too tight and warm heat. The sounds were lewd, especially when he couldn’t help but slurp and suck up your flowing arousal, enjoying the sheer intimacy between the two of you as you chirped out his name in warnings that you were about to come. He wanted you to, so he didn’t say anything as he continued his ministrations. He felt his cock twitch as he felt you tightened up around his fat fingers and wet muscle, and then spasm as you held onto him with your hands and legs as if he were a lifeline, calling out to him so sweetly and wanton, that he was afraid that he might cum right then and there.

Breaking away ruefully, he sat up, catching his breath as he stared at you, and his heart skipped a beat and if it were any possible, more blood rushed down south. You looked absolutely wrecked. Your eyes were clouded with tears as drool dribbled down your chin, face, chest, and everything else was flushed with a pretty red as your grip on him loosened as you came down from your orgasmic high, and as if a switch was flipped, he surged forward and kissed you rather roughly. You groaned with pleasure as he massaged your breasts, letting his rough hands palm over and rub at your nubs. His dick rubbed against your thighs, and your hips in return moved on their own accord, trying to reach for more as he bit and sucked at your throat and neck, leaving newer, red marks traveling downwards.  

He broke away, looking down at you with question.

“Are ya alright, Sweetling? Do ya wanna stop?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, raw and hoarse as he hoped to all layers of hells not that you were done, but he would never pressure you into anything that you didn’t want, and would always respect your choice.

“Taishiro, please continue.” Your own voice was even wrecked as you looked at him pleadingly and desperate to come again, and he couldn’t help but growl with almost feral approval that he did that to you.

“Alright, try to relax, okay, my pretty wife?” He found himself humming rather gently as he slicked his own pre-cum down his aching cock, smiling gently as your cheeks flushed with the endearment as you nodded. He kept himself from groaning from not only the friction, but from the sympathetic look that you were giving his dick, as if you wanted to lick it to make it feel better. Later, he thought. Definitely later.

He aligned himself to your entrance, intertwining his free hand with yours as he watched your expression carefully as your legs wrapped around his waist. He tried not to close his eyes as hot, tight heat started to surround him as you forced yourself to relax. He took small breaks, slowly kissing you as he moved inches further, speaking words of encouragement and endearment as you hummed softly in return, hand squeezing his. Finally, he was all the way inside you, letting his forehead rest against yours as he eyed your expression. You didn’t look like you were in pain, only in slight discomfort, but he asked anyway.

“How are you feelin’? Doin’ okay?” He grunted out. His expression softened as you rested a hand upon his cheek, kissing his forehead gently and he couldn’t help but hum with pleasantry at the sweet gesture.

“I’m wonderful. You’re wonderful. Please keep going?” You asked, and he grunted, refusing to refuse such a request. He kept an eye on you, feeling the unfamiliar heat envelope him as he rocked his hips ever so gently, feeling your walls squeeze him impossibly tight as the two of you watched each other’s expressions. He heard of stories. How inexperienced men could leave a woman unsatisfied. Granted he wasn’t too inexperienced, but it was his first time actually being within somebody, and it felt as if it were a sacred connection between the two of you, if he was being honest.

 He’d be damned if he came before you, leaving you unsatisfied, and his pride and ego wounded. He reached down, gently rubbing your clit as you gasped softly at the added friction as he continued the torturous pace. He wanted to buck into you wildly, lose all control as his mind screamed at him to just take what he wanted. He hushed his thoughts. He was taking what he wanted, as it was gifted to him by his lovely wife.

“So beautiful,” He admitted, watching you move your hips awkwardly trying to mimic his pace. Your walls tightened, and he let out a small, breathy laugh mixed with a grunt.  

“of course you’d be into that. My lovely, beautiful wife is taking me so well, hm?” He murmured lowly, as if almost afraid to break the intimacy.

“Taishiro...husband, Dear...please move faster.” You panted, trying to quicken your hips, and he tried not to falter. He trusted you in being sure that you wanted more, and so he obliged, trying to quicken his pace only a little bit, but found himself all but snapping his hips into you with fervor. He couldn’t find it within himself to apologize, for you let out such a beautiful sound as your head threw back, exposing your kissed throat as he felt you tighten even further, close to cumming. The sight fueled him as he couldn’t help but continue his almost punishing pace, one hand still intertwining with yours and the other’s fingers were soaked with pre-cum and your lubricant as it rubbed at your clit.

He sucked and licked at the column of your throat, asking you almost frantically to cum for him, kissing and biting.

“So fuckin’ tight. Such a perfect wife. Ya’re squeezin’ around me so beautifully. ‘M gonna carve my dick within ya. Ya’d like that, wouldn’t ya?” He couldn’t help but ramble, half aware of the things he was saying as you finally came around him a second time, and it was beautiful. You screamed his name as fresh tears coated your eyes with ecstasy, eyes squeezing shut as you spasmed uncontrollably around him, and his movements faltered, hips bucking wildly as he came in a large spurt, coating your raw insides as your name called out from his own mouth.

 He fell onto his side, pulling you close to him as the both of you were breathing heavily. Through the orgasmic bliss, he admired the way your breasts rose and fell to the motions of your panting. It took a spell, but the both of you looked weakly at each other, and he tilted your chin up and kissed you softly.

“Did I hurt ya?” He whispered hoarsely. You shook your head.

“No, you were perfect. That was perfect.” You answered back weakly with such warmth filling your eyes, you were practically glowing as you held a soft smile.

“I love you, dearest wife.” He kissed the corner of your mouth, and you melted.

“I love you, too, beloved husband.” You truthfully admitted, squeezing his hand.

He felt himself softened as he gently pulled out of you, grimacing a little as a little blood was mixed in with his seed as it leaked out of you. He looked at you, about to question if you were really alright, but your eyes were shut, and you began to snore softly. He kissed you again, getting up to get a wet cloth from the cave water to wipe you down gently. When he was done, he pulled your sleeping form tightly against him, kissing your forehead as sleep overtook him.  

……………

The morning after, you were a little sore, but you felt so damned happy, you were all over your husband and he relished in the attention that you knew he probably hardly got. He eventually made the both of you new clothes from deer skin, and the two of you packed and left to live in a human village, in your human disguises. Of course there were questions, but you and your husband lived peacefully, never really seeing or hearing from other yokai as the two of you loved each other dearly in domestic bliss.

……..

Whew this took me three days to write as I balanced between work and sleeping. I wanted to write it in Tai-chan’s perspective, and I’m not disappointed. I know there’s a lot of stuff missing, like further details on yokai and sending off wolves don’t have shrines, I don’t think, but it’s for plot. Self indulgent, really, but feel free to like or reblog <3

[gongju-juice]

9. Once Upon a Southern Night

Not So Far-Fetched

Warnings: SMUT, language, fluff, and a little angst

The wedding was absolutely perfect. Of course, Alice designed the entire affair, everybody else but you and Jasper a slave to her incessant ordering.

You got married on a sunny day back in the country, just a few miles Jasper’s old home town which was nestled far out into secluded woods with a grand, wooden barn and southern mansion nearby a quiet stream

Your dress was sleeveless and made of immaculate white silk that trailed behind you in the rose petal walkway to your groom, standing under a flower arch of candles and flowers. Alice, Rosalie, and Amelia were your bridesmaids—and Ivy, though she whined and cried from home—was not invited.

And when the wedding was over, Jasper flew you out to Havana where a pastel yellow house waited on the shoes of the beach. Little antique cars zoomed past on the streets, people danced in skimpy swimsuits, lovers toured the old buildings, hands entwined.

But you weren’t even interested in all of that. That was second priority. All you wanted was to be underneath the man you’d been lusting for over two years now. And he seemed to sense your urgency, for he immediately rushed the both of you to your villa without any side trips or excursions.

He got busy taking care of the luggage and dealing with the house attendants as they stocked the kitchen with food. Meanwhile, you made a nest of the bathroom. 

Dropping your suitcase on the tiled floor, you laid out all your supplies and filled the tub with bubbles and hot water. Alice and Rosalie had packed an “essential” bag of lingerie, but you thought it would be best to save it for later. Tonight, there would be no lace or fancy ribbons. You would be yourself, and you would reveal yourself to your husband just like you shamefully imagined yourself doing before. 

You opened the french style bathroom doors and stepped into the humid room. The ceiling fan whirred uselessly overhead, creating more noise than comfort, adding only to your anxiety and nervousness. You tightened your arms around your waist and moved forward.

Jasper was on the other side of the room staring out over the balcony. The moon shone down on his wavy hair, creating a silvery effect that slowly faded into the warm candlelight of the bedroom. 

When he turned around, you were already tugging at the ties of your robe. The candles flickered and in a heartbeat, he was standing in front of you, his icy breath on your lips. He lowered your hands and began undoing the fabric himself.

To his delight, there was nothing underneath. It was silent as he took in your bare form, his piercing gaze sweeping over the hills of your breast, the curvature of your hips and thighs. Never before had you felt so exposed, so completely and utterly vulnerable and especially nervous.

What if you did something wrong? What if he didn’t like what he saw? What if you accidentally humiliated yourself?

“Y/N,” he hummed, putting his hands on the top of your shoulders. “I can feel everything you feel. And, you’re worried. I won’t go any further until you tell me you’re ready. We can stop now, and I won’t touch you like that at all, if that’s what you want. I just want you to be okay.”

You bit your lip but vehemently shook your head. Of course you were nervous. It was your wedding night. To not feel anything at all was a sign of trouble. 

But you wanted him. Your feeling of desire overwhelmed any sense of anxiousness, and it made you breathless with how tangible it all seemed. It was often you could lay awake at night and think of being with him. With seven other vampires around, your every move was heard and monitored even if they didn’t intend to invade your privacy. And Jasper sat on the edge of your bed as you slept, too traditional to venture under the covers most of the time. The want had been building and boiling inside of you, waiting to be unleashed.

“I want you,” you whimpered. “Please, I can’t wait any longer.”

Gracefully, he scooped you into his arms and carried you to the canopied bed where he had already rearranged the pillows at least twice. 

Perhaps, you thought, he was nervous too.

But before you could contemplate this theory any longer, his eyes dropped dangerously to the apex of your thighs where your arousal had obscenely gathered. He licked his lips and cradled your hips with his strong arms. 

“Fuck, this is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen since you walked down that aisle,” he declared, admiring your writhing regions in his deepest drawl yet. It was funny, the more excited Jasper became, the thicker his accent became. 

Before he continued, however, he began by kissing every inch of your skin. He started from the vein just behind your left ear before making his way down the crevice of your collarbones, down the valley of your breasts, slowly and teasingly trailing down to the place you really wanted him to be.

But once he made it to your pelvic bone, he placed your legs over his shoulders, a smirk on his face. You’re sure you were wide-eyed, your features twisted into a blissful grimace of unfulfilled need and throbbing ache.

He delved his tongue into your folds, sucking and kissing hungrily like a predator bearing down on its prey. His eyes darkened into a shade of burnt umber. It must’ve been so tempting to be that close to all those vital vessels and not give in to the burning instinct to drink you dry. Instead, he channeled all of that desire and yearning into eating your pussy like a starved man.

“Jasper,” you screamed, “Oh god, I—you’re so—it’s so—”

“You’re feeling everything I’m feeling,” he admitted, ripping through the buttons of his shirt. “And everything I’m feeling is you.”

You understood. It was a continual, never-ending loop of love and pleasure that he had shared with you. This was exaltation, better than any human drug or stimulant. It was just you and your husband making love for the first time, consummating your marriage as countless other lovers had done before but infinitely different and unique.

“I can’t take it anymore! Please, just do it! I want you inside me so badly, Jas,” you hyperventilated as you assisted him as he undid his belt and zipper, the rest of his offensive attire falling to the floor. Now there was nothing standing in between you and your man.

“Patience, darlin’,” he hummed, pushing you up against the headboard in a way that did not seem so patient in itself. By this point, your vision was beginning to go white from the sheer excitement, and in that moment, you hated him for deriving you from the immediate pleasure. He was taking his time, savoring the image of your desperate expressions in his photographic mind.

He pressed his cock unto your clit, rubbing tiny little circles with the tip of his dick—only contributing to your frustration and utter annoyance. 

“Just do it, please! I want you to fucking ruin me.”

His eyes widened. “My baby girl has a dirty mouth, doesn’t she? I’ll have to deal with that later, but since you asked so nicely—”

He thrust into you suddenly, knocking the air sensuously from your lungs. Your fingers crept up to his hair, grabbing a palmful to yank and hold on to. The pain was noticeable, but somehow you suspected he had lessened the intensity by using his ability. He stilled inside you, brushing his lips against yours as he waited.

“Are you ready?” he asked after a while.

“Yes.”

He began moving, his thrusts deep but firm as he pinned you down in the warm candlelight. The lewd sounds of your bodies meeting brought heat to your cheeks. It was so delicious and utterly filthy that tears accumulated in your eyes. He uttered a string of curses in your ear, quiet and intended only for you. 

“This sopping pussy, so wet. So sweet. You want me to fix for ya, darlin’? Does it feel good when I’m stroking you like this?”

It was so startling and unlike what you imagined. Jasper had always been the quiet Cullen, the one who never spoke unless spoken to. Even in your relationship, he opted to listen to your voice rather than lead the conversation. It was something you thought would carry over into his bedroom tendencies. But here he was, spitting naughty, dangerous words to you, unabashedly and so god damn sexy. 

His pace changed. Now it was fast and shallow. You looked down to where your bodies connected, your arousal dripping down onto the cotton sheets and shining against his lower half. You cried into his throat, trying to hide your face.

“No, Y/N,” he commanded, “Look at me. Look at what I’m doing to you. I want to watch you cum for me. Look into my eyes.”

You did as he said, and it was utterly too much. He growled as you came undone underneath the sheets. His seed, slightly warm, gushed inside you, filling your womb with his love. Your tongues clashed together as he bared his hands on the mattress and hunched over you.

You laid together in the romantic darkness, your head relaxed against his chest. You could hear cars honking in the streets, music floating up from the partying crowds below. It was so tranquil and perfect that if a hurricane blew over the island in that instant, you truly believed you wouldn’t care. All the while, his breathing slowed in your ear—not out of necessity—but from pure leisure.

“I can’t believe,” you started before taking a deep breath and starting over, “I can’t believe you waited over a century and a half to be with me. With someone you never met. I feel like I’ve robbed you years of laughter and joy when you should have been out living your life. If I had been there, then Maria wouldn’t have. . .she wouldn’t have—”

He sat up suddenly, bringing you with him against the headboard. 

“All of it, all of the years of waiting and suffering—every painful moment of it was worth it. It groomed me to become the man I am now. I used to be cold, unsympathetic, and callous. I had a backward ideology and knew not how to love another person for I could not even love myself.” he placed his large hand over yours, brushing the iridescent diamond band glimmering colorfully in the candlelight.

“But Carlisle and Esme, all of my adopted siblings—they taught me to cherish myself, even in spite of all my flaws. They never gave up on me when I struggled with my thirst, and they never judged me for the life I used to have. Little did I know, you had made your second arrival in the world not long after. I was learning to love, and well, you were learning to live.”

“The way your mother looks at you, Y/N, it’s a look of pure love and adoration. I decided then when I first sat at your dinner table that I would never let anything happen to that bond. I would protect you with my life. You were the final piece to my heart, darlin’. I had learned to love myself, but I didn’t trust myself. It wasn’t until you realized I was capable of loving others, that I could control myself enough around people.”

You didn’t realize you were crying but you were. Tears streamed down your face, some rolling down your cheeks and others falling unto his skin. 

“I don’t care what Edward believes.You are capable of loving in any way you choose; as a friend, as a brother, as a son—”

“As a husband?”

You smiled. “Yes. And, maybe, if you wanted—as a father.”

He froze, his golden eyes widened in surprise. “You mean. . .you want to adopt?”

“We could if we wanted,” you whispered quietly. “But Ava told me something about witches, something I thought you should know.”

He nodded, beckoning you to continue.

“Witches can have children with humans, vampires, werewolves, and shapeshifters. Because of our magic, it is immediately passed on to the offspring so that the children automatically retain human characteristics until they are old enough to learn what they are. And as for me, as long as I choose, I will never age. Of course, if we do have children, then I might need to create an illusion to change my appearance a little so people won’t be sus—”

He pulled you to his lips, and once again the two of you were reunited. It felt warm in his arms. Safe. 

“I would be honored,” he answered breathlessly. “Perhaps that dream of our farm life isn’t too far-fetched at all.”

“Oh no, it’s totally far-fetched,” you cried, laughing. “Yes, I grew up in Alabama. Yes, we’re southerners at heart. But I do not want to smell like cattle and chase chickens around for all of eternity. Maybe let’s just get a summer farm and we can have people to maintain while we’re gone.”

He shook his head, laughing, as you cradled his chin in your hand. 

“We’ll need a big house for the farm I plan to create with you, Mrs. Whitlock,” he drawled seductively, grabbing your hand by the wrist and bringing it slowly to his chest. 

You moved him so that you were on top, straddling him, the sheets pooling at your waist. 

“Well then, cowboy, we’d better get started.”

And this completes this series! Hope you enjoyed! I’m planning on doing some blurbs and drabble with our happy couple in the future. . .send me some ideas, will ya?

Twilight, despite all of its many problems and kinks, is one of my favorite nostalgic stories to this day. Jasper has always been my favorite character, (Seth Clearwater next) and since we’re all either quarantined or protesting, I thought I could bring light to our lives in such a dark time.

Part Six   Part Seven   Part Eight

[impalaimagining]

Guarded - Part 3

Jensen Ackles x Amanda, background Dean Winchester x Felicity

3,116 words

Warnings: bad past relationships, angst

*Written for Amanda as the next part of her Shotgun Riders series!

- unbeta’d

Series Masterlist - Masterlist

Jensen’s alarm sounded, pulling you from your slumber with a groan. You stretched and regretted it immediately at the protest of the muscles in your arms and legs. You felt Jensen shift beside you as you fumbled to find your phone on the nightstand.

“Mornin’.” His gravelly voice rumbled in your ear.

You whined and burrowed your head back into the pillow. “Don’t wanna.”

“I know.” Jensen chuckled, his hand rubbing down your spine gently. “How’re you feelin’?” You shook your head, face still smashed into the white cotton below you. “Hey.” He stopped the movement of his hand, splaying it out in the center of your back as his thumb rubbed your skin gently. You turned your head to the side and cracked one eye open to squint at him. “Why don’t you take it easy today? They can find a way to work something else into the schedule for your panel slot.”

You shot up, shaking your head. “No, no way. I won’t - I can’t do that.” You popped your back and sat up straight. “I need to get back to my room and shower.”

“Do it here.” Jensen dismissed with a wave of his hand as he checked the time on his phone. “I’m catching another few.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed as Jensen’s hand found your hip and pulled you backwards toward him. “Thought I was supposed to get a shower.” You quirked a brow as the corner of your mouth ticked up in a smirk.

Jensen shook his head. “Stay with me.” He nuzzled into your shoulder as you laid with your back to him. “Five more minutes.” You chuckled and closed your eyes, Jensen’s fingers tracing gentle lines across your hip.

His alarm went off again and you whimpered, the sound startling you out of the shallow dream you’d fallen into. “Son of a bitch.” Jensen rubbed his eye with the back of his hand. “I ever told you how much I hate timezones?”

You smiled softly, eyes still closed. “No, I don’t think you have.” You rolled over to face him, laying your hand on his upper arm. “Why don’t you tell me later while we’re walking to the panel.” You patted his chest and rolled over, throwing your legs off the side of the bed. “I’m going back to my room to shower.” You stretched your back and stood up, knees shaky under the full weight of your body.

“Seriously.” Jensen ran his hand over his hair. “Why don’t you take the day off? After last night, you could probably use it.”

“I’m not the one with a busted cheek.” You tilted your head. “Maybe you need to take it easy today.”

Jensen shook his head. “Been through worse before a convention.” He reasoned.

With a roll of your eyes, you grabbed your shoes and hooked them on your fingers, putting your other hand on the doorknob. “Can’t wait to see those photo ops online.” You winked and padded just down the hall in socked feet.

“Hey.” Jared gave you a warm smile when he met you and Jensen in the hall on the way to the main theater. “How ya feelin’?”

“About as good as you look.” You teased. “I don’t know why you two are so worried about me. You’re the ones who took the brunt of it.”

Jared shook his head and opened his mouth to talk, but Jensen shot him a look and cut him off. “Let’s just go get our coffee and try to get the morning started, okay?” Jensen painted on a tight smile and looked between you and Jared. He dropped his voice and muttered to himself, eyes lingering on you. “Even though I wish you would’ve just stayed in bed…”

You waited for Jared to walk ahead of you before you pulled Jensen back by the back of his shirt. “Jensen.” You whispered. “Please don’t act like I’m some fragile piece of glass after last night. I’m so glad you were there, but I would’ve survived either way.”

Jensen stopped, grabbing your forearm. He shook his head and looked down. “I’m sorry, but you don’t know that.”

The weight of his words hit you like a train. You could’ve died. You probably would have died if Jared and Jensen hadn’t been with you. You owed them your life.

“Hey!” Jared called over his shoulder as he looked back at the two of you. “Y’all comin’ or what?”

While Jared and Jensen did their morning panel for the gold admission package holders, you started your day in the green room, alone at first, and then joined by the likes of Rob and Rich and the rest of Louden Swain, Jason popping in and out every few minutes. After the gold panel, the guys left for the theater, officially kicking the day off for everyone else at the convention.

Jared strutted into the green room, his straw making that awful suction noise as he finished his iced coffee. “Find anything good in here?” He walked to the table of food against the wall. You hadn’t actually noticed the food, too occupied with trying to distract yourself from the weight of Jensen’s comment.

“Huh?” You looked up, pony shaking your head to clear yourself out of your daze. “Oh, um, no.” You cleared your throat and stood up. “I should probably eat something before I don’t have time to eat though, huh?” You forced a smile.

Jared’s brows furrowed together. He turned to face you when you walked over to the table. “You feelin’ alright?”

“I - yeah.” You nodded without looking at Jared, but the weak facade quickly dissolved and you found yourself on the verge of tears as you shook your head. “No. No, I’m not.”

Jared’s hand fell to your shoulder and he walked you to the couch, sitting you at one end while he situated himself in the chair beside the sofa. “What’s going on?”

“It’s - I don’t know. This morning, Jensen said to me that no one knows if I would’ve made it out of there alive last night if you two hadn’t been there.” Your voice cracked and your eyes burned with unshed tears. “And I didn’t think about it until he said it, but he’s right. Who knows what those guys would’ve done to me, Jared.”

Jared moved quickly from the chair and sat beside you, pulling you into a hug. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. We were there.”

You curled into his embrace, clutching his shirt in your hand as you sobbed. “You guys saved my life.”

Jensen walked in, the smile on his face shifting into an open-mouthed stare as he took in the sight in front of him. Jared looked up and met Jensen's eyes, giving a slight shake of his head to answer Jensen’s silent question.

Jensen crept toward the couch, kneeling down beside you and resting his hand on your knee. You jumped at the contact and looked at him, startled. “It’s just me.” Jensen said calmly. You turned at the sound of his voice and fell against Jensen’s chest. “Yeah.” He held you tightly. “I know. I’ve got you.” His arms cradled you against his body as he shifted and shooed Jared away and moved the two of you to the couch where you’d been before. Jared offered Jensen an empathetic smile and exited the room, making his way to his solo photo op session.

“I’m sorry.” Your apology flowed from your lips on a broken sob.

Jensen’s hand rubbed softly between your shoulder blades. “Stop. None of this is your fault.” He kissed the top of your head. “I really think you should get back upstairs and take the day off.”

You pulled back and looked up at him, shaking your head. “I don’t want to, Jensen. I want to do this. I need to do this.” You wiped your tears furiously on the back of your hand. “I’m stronger than this.”

“You have nothing to prove to anyone.”

“Jensen.” You huffed, sniffling. “You and Jared have come to cons busted up after bad nights before. I can do this.”

Jensen raised a hand in surrender, keeping the other arm secured around you. “Whatever you need, okay?”

You reached out and held Jensen’s hand, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. “I need to do this. I want to go back to my room and wash my face and fix my makeup, but I will come back down here and go out on that stage.”

“You know where I’ll be.” Jensen leaned in and kissed your forehead, laying his hand on the side of your face as he cupped your jaw. He pulled his lips away from your skin and leaned his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses bumping gently before he pressed his lips against yours.

You walked into the theater behind the black curtains hanging from the metal structure above the stage. As Rob and the band played your introduction song and you made your way up the steps, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. Placing your hand on the railing, you ascended the small staircase and popped onto stage.

The crowd applauded and cheered, though the theater was a bit more empty than you’d expected. Jared and Jensen were doing their duo photo ops, so you imagined that’s where the occupants of the empty seats were.

“Hi!” You painted on a smile and waved at the people still clapping for you. “How’s everybody doing?” They continued shouting, and you noticed a few people lining up along the sides of the crowd to ask you questions. “Alright, I don’t wanna talk too much,” you laughed nervously, “so let’s get this thing started.”

Fans asked about your time on set, what kind of plotline you’d like to see for Felicity, where you thought the love story between her and Dean was going - or at least, what you could tell them without spoiling anything.

You saw the signal from the side of the stage. Liz was flagging you down, telling you there were only a few minutes left. “Okay.” You turned to the next person in line at the microphone. “This might be the last question we have time for. No pressure.” You grinned.

“Well,” the woman at the microphone started, “I know a million people have already asked about how it is on set with the guys, but I was wondering - sorry, this is a little more personal. I was wondering if you could tell us what Jared and Jensen have come to mean to you? As people, as part of your life outside of the show.”

Your throat felt tight as soon as she finished her question. Your eyes burned and the air left your lungs. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out other than the squeak of a sob caught in the back of your throat. With a quick shake of your head, you dropped the microphone and covered your face with your hands.

Jensen ran on stage and threw his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a hug. “You got this.” He whispered as Jared followed behind him, coming onto the stage with a wave to the crowd and a nervous smile.

“Hey, y’all.” Jared plucked your mic off the ground and attempted to distract everyone, stepping in front of you so they couldn’t see.

Jensen held your face, running the pad of his thumb under your eye and wiping the tear from your cheekbone. He tilted your head up so you were looking at him. “You’re okay.” He spoke softly, speaking to only you. He was having a very private conversation in front of a very non-private audience. Cameras flashed and the ding of phones starting video recordings sounded around you.

“Jensen, I-”

“No.” He stared into your eyes. “You’re going to be okay. You can do this. You need to do this.” He echoed your sentiments. “So take that mic from Jared, turn to that crowd, and finish off this panel. We’re not going anywhere.”

“What?” You raised your brows.

“You heard me. We’re staying right here. Jared and I are finishing this with you.” He smiled and ran his thumb gently under your eye again.

You nodded and pulled away from Jensen, taking the microphone from Jared’s hand, cutting him off much to the amusement of the fans. “Sorry about that.” You painted on a smile as Jensen’s arm fell around your shoulders again. “Where were we?”

“I think you were telling them how much you love us.” Jared winked.

“Yeah, something like that.” You shoved Jared’s chest playfully and answered the question, explaining how much Jared and Jensen did for you, the way they kept your safe, how overall genuine they both were. “Oh, I’m getting the time’s up signal and,” Rob jumped through the curtain and joined you on stage, “the band’s back! That’s our cue.” You looked at Jared first, and then Jensen. “Exit, stage… uh, through there. Don’t worry, they’ll be back soon!” You giggled, laying your microphone on the chair and waving a goodbye to the fans. Jensen’s hand fell from your shoulder to around your waist, pulling you into his side before he ushered you down the steps behind the curtains.

He tightened his grip on you and kissed your temple. “Told you.” He said quietly.

You dismissed him and shook your head. “What’s up next?”

“We’ve got photo ops.” Jared motioned between the two of them. “With Misha.”

“She’s coming with us.” Jensen stated boldly. “She can hang out with Clif over on the side. We’ll figure it out. But she’s with us - with me.” He looked at his handler and nodded. “For the rest of the day.” Jensen’s handler quickly tapped the microphone on her headset and spoke into it, letting the other handlers know about the change in plans.

The day flew by in a blur, people squealing and crying in and out of the photo op room. Jensen sneaking sips of his whiskey and coke behind the photo op backdrop kept you entertained for the better part of the time you spent in the photo op room. Clif filled the rest of your time with stories, mentions of his wife and their trips.

“Hey.” Jensen stepped away from the backdrop. “They’re done with me for the day.”

“Okay.” You smiled up at him, grabbing his drink from his hand and finishing it off.

“Let’s go grab another couple of those before autos, yeah?” He shot you a wink and you nodded, disappearing behind the backdrop as Clif followed the two of you, shaking his head.

After the long night spent in the green room while Jared and Jensen were at their autograph sessions, you piled into the SUV with Jensen and Jared, Clif driving the three of you back to your hotel.

The three of you had found your happy place, riding out a collective buzz as you talked and giggled in the backseat.

“Hey.” You stopped the idle conversation, laying your hand on Jensen’s thigh. “Thank you.” Jensen frowned. “For earlier, I mean. Thank you - both of you,” you turned to Jared, “for saving my ass up there.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jared brushed your thanks away with a wave of his hand. “We gotcha.” He winked sloppily and turned his attention to his phone.

You squeezed Jensen’s leg, grabbing his attention. “I mean it.” You said quietly. “Thank you.”

Jensen lifted his arm, beckoning you under it and wrapping it around you, pulling you close. “You’re welcome.” He kissed you, just above your ear. “Whatever you need, babe.” You nuzzled into Jensen’s side and hummed as you closed your eyes. Laying your hand on his chest, you tipped your head up and kissed him.

Back in the hallway leading to your hotel room, you laced your fingers with Jensen’s until you reached your door. “Night.” You squeezed his hand, pulling away from him slowly.

“Yeah, night.” He smiled, not releasing your hand. Before you could turn fully, he pulled you back and his lips smashed into yours. “Goodnight.” He mumbled into the kiss. “See you in the morning.” Jared scoffed and rolled his eyes at the two of you, trudging back to his own room.

Reluctantly, you peeled yourself away from Jensen’s kiss, fumbling in your back pocket for your key card. Jensen lingered, but you waved him away as you slid the key into the slot and the light flashed green, unlocking the door. You pushed inside, waving goodbye to Jensen again before closing the door and your eyes as you leaned back against it. When you opened your eyes again, you drew your brows together as you caught a glimpse of an envelope perched on the end of your bed.

You peeled it open, unfolding the paper inside. As your eyes raked over the words printed on the page and the signature at the bottom, your mind flashed back to the first night Jensen had accompanied you to your trailer on set. You dropped the letter and ran for the door, throwing it open and shouting down the hall. “Jensen!” You called out. “Jensen, come back!”

Jensen turned on his heel and ran back to you, his shoes thudding on the carpeted floor. “What? What happened?” He ran his hand through his hair before he pushed past you and into your hotel room. “What’s wrong?” He looked back at you over his shoulder.

You bent and picked up the letter off the floor, handing it to Jensen with a shaky hand. “He - this is from him.”

Jensen’s eyes skimmed the page, reading the words, reading the threats. Logan. He swore he’d get to you, no matter what it took. Jensen dragged his eyes up from the paper in his hands. When his gaze fell on you, he watched you crumble in front of him, falling onto the end of the bed and sobbing into your palms.

All you wanted was one weekend. One night away from the nightmare that haunted you from your past. One day away from Logan.

Jensen sat beside you and wrapped you in his arms. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” You twisted the fabric of Jensen’s shirt in your fingers. “I’m here.”

The last thing you wanted to be was vulnerable, but you were drunk, in a hotel room where your stalker - or at the very least someone your stalker had hired - had been within the last twelve hours. Your words were muffled, your mouth pressed against the cotton covering Jensen’s chest, but you meant them with every piece of your heart. “I need you, Jensen.”

gif: x

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Forever Tags: @atc74 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @beththedemonhunter @blacktithe7 @caswinchester2000 @countrygal17a @danathewitchywoman @deansgirl7695 @deanwanddamons @elizzysnow13 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @emoryhemsworth @esoltis280 @essie1876 @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @heartsaved @hillface89 @holyfuckloueh @hunterpuff @in-deans-arms @ladylachesis @lilredniki @linki-locks11 @mottergirl99 @mrsdeannafuckingwinchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @notyourtypicalrose @plaid-lover-bay25 @riversong-sam @sandlee44 @sea040561 @shaelyn102 @smoothdogsgirl @soulmates8 @speakinvain @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnbaby-67 @supernatural3002 @superromijn @tumblr-tidbits @vicmc624 @voltage-my2dlove @wayward-gypsy

Jensen Tags: @adoptdontshoppets @ashki8278 @cherrycokegirls1 @clarewinchester @dean-winchesters-bacon @deanandsamsbitch @deansgirl215 @fandom-princess-forevermore @iamabeautifulperson18 @lessons-of-red @mereka18 @princessofthefandomrealm @shamelesslydean @torn-and-frayed @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou

Guarded Tags: @dean-is-my-superhero @deanw-is-pretty @for-a-brothers-love @ilovetoread44 @it-could-go-off @kalesrebellion @muchamusedaboutnothing @puppies-make-me-extra-happy @to-have-deans-love @vicmc624 @wayward-gypsy