#heartbeats aflame

[euesworld]

"Heartbeats blazing with a sunrise fire, alive with a light inside and eyes to admire.. kisses, hugs, cuddles, love.. these are the things that I desire, so bring me the sweet heat in which fire was sired."

My heart catches aflame with a passion unbridled when you moan my name, I only hope that you know the same heat without an ounce of shame - eUë

[anantaru]

Xiao and aphrodisiacs ? 🙏🙏

cw. aphrodisiacs, dubcon?? (just in case), fem! reader

"xiao... i can feel it work," you slowly let fall from your tongue, fluttering your lashes up to meet the eyes that hover above you, your naked skin smoldering hot as xiao rests his weight on top of you.

your body feels dense above the mattress— and the leaden quivering of your chest fights to match that of your fastened pants, your thighs wet of your slick as you clench and throb around xiao's waist when he keeps you pinned on the bed with his bare strength.

he doesn't believe he will manage to keep himself restraint when he sees you struggle at the way your body was feeling unnaturally hot with your core ablaze, your warm pussy quivering at each round rub against your sensitive folds.

xiao's eyes slowly trace over the soft expression on your face, "i love when you enjoy yourself," he admits as his fingers collect your arousal to smear them across your thudding flesh.

archons, you want him inside of you so badly, you're certain that his fingers surely wouldn't be enough, despite the fact that everything felt a whole lot more intense tonight, your bottom lip quivering at how dirty it felt to be so exposed and oozing of your arousal.  

his body was flush against yours, and yours with his as you want to feel xiao, until your thighs are practically glistening of him, you need him to engrave strong pleasure into your walls and stretch you into his shape before you can rest easy for tonight.

"how long do you think you can last..." xiao breathes while continuing to work his hand on you, "i can feel how you're falling to pieces," he continues, "and i don't want to hurt you," as he breathes hot against your ear before inserting one slender finger into your tight hole.

"no.." you feverishly shake your head, "please— just don't stop," and your words breathe against his skin as you unravel, your honeyed sounds awakening goosebumps on his roughened body.

his lips part when your walls mould to his shape instantly, and after the little pill you took, he finds out that you're extremely reactive tonight, not to mention so sensitive that it drives him insane when he leisurely pumps a finger in and out to test the waters on how much you could take in your current state.

you jolt with a quiet squeal when he nibbles along your jawline— and an interesting, not to mention sexy fact about xiao was that he needs to know if he was doing well and if you're enjoying it— in his mind, there was one element about seeing your pleasure overflow beneath him to the point where you're causing his thighs to tremor as you open yourself up for him.

yet, there's another crucial component when he focuses his sharp senses on your heartbeat, especially on the way your breathing would slowly change and turn quicker, or how impossibly wet you had gotten from a mere finger as he further imprints his trace on your sensitive skin.

"this is u-unfair," you babble out, twisting your brows and sliding one hand down to the obvious tent in his boxers, his thick bulge repeatedly grinding against your thigh to release some steam, "i do-don't think it worked on you," you sigh out defeatedly, stroking his bulge as xiao adds a finger, thrusting his digits through the sticky mess on your cunt.

"do you want me to stop?" xiao asks kindly, nuzzling his nose across your neck to take in your stirring scent.

"no.. no," your palm gently works up his cock as your legs spread wider for him, pushing your hips up to welcome his fingers as xiao lovingly smiles against you, "so hot— you're so hot down there," he says, pumping with adrenaline, xiao just needs to make you feel good, that is all he wants, to make you feel so fucking good.

you throw your head back in ecstasy when he changes the tempo of two fingers and pistols his digits quickly back and forth, pushing between your hole with the squelching noises setting your cheeks aflame, your chest rapidly rising and falling as you practically melt under his tender caress.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[lxkeee]

CHAINED BY DESIRES

-SMUT [2/2]

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Sinner! Fem! Reader

Genre: Romance & Smut

Warnings: Lucifer owns your soul in this one. P in V sex, slight choking (chains as round your neck), dom/switch Lucifer, fingering, orgasm denial, praises (reader receiving), consensual sex, unprotected sex.

Notes: this is 3k of pure smut. So minors do not interact.

PART ONE | NAV.

“Please... [Y/n], I need you.” Lucifer pleaded, desperate to feel all of her. “As you wish...” she whispers, equally desperate to feel him, caressing his cheek, a suggestive smile on her face, “—my king.” she purred as she finally gently pushed him back down to his bed, catching the King of Hell off guard.

Lucifer's rosy red cheeks turned into a darker shade of red, hot, he feels incredibly hot. He could suddenly feel everything, the loud thumping of his heart, his and her heavy breathing, the softness of her skin against his cheek, the increasingly growing arousal on his pants. How she straddled his lap and grinded on his growing erection, causing a whine to escape his lips.

[Y/n] grinned, a suggestive smirk on her face as she listened to the delicious whines that left Lucifer's lips. His head was thrown back on to the pillow, his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed down his moans, “[y/n] please... Stop being such a tease...” he begged, stammering as whimpers left his lips.

[Y/n] raises an eyebrow at him, clearly enjoying herself. Why wouldn't she? The king of hell, the apple of her eye is beneath her whimpering and begging more of her to do more to him. She grins, “Do you want me to stop? Okay, I'll stop.” she purrs, stopping herself from grinding against his crotch, making the man underneath her whine pathetically.

Lucifer whined from the loss of friction, ruby red eyes staring up at her, half-lidded with lust and adoration, “You're cruel.” he pouted playfully making the woman above him giggle, [y/n] places a finger over his lips—shushing him playfully, “But you loved it.”

Lucifer sighs, a smirk on his face as he pushes himself up with the support of his elbows, his face dangerously close to hers, “I do, I really do.” he admits hoarsely, eyes half-lidded with lust. Their chests are pressed together, they can feel each other's heartbeats—how erratic and loud it is thumping against their ribcages. [Y/n] presses her forehead against his, her warm breath fanning his face slightly, “Kiss me like you need me, Lucifer.” she purred, her hand caressing his neck up to his jawline, making him hitch his breath, choking on a moan.

[Y/n] chuckles at his reaction, though it was cut short as she felt his hand behind her neck and pushed her down on him for a kiss, his elbows no longer supporting his body as his back finally hit the mattress once more, “Hmmph—!” She yelped slightly against his lips.

She instinctively closed her eyes as she allowed Lucifer to claim her lips, a soft moan escaping her lips which Lucifer eagerly captured it with his own. His thumb caressed her cheek, his other hand holding her waist and pulling her body even closer to his.

[Y/n] could feel the oblivious bulge that rubs in between her thighs, she whined into the kiss, her hands slowly unbuttoned his white coat, causing Lucifer to groan, “Eager are we?” he purrs teasingly, parting away from her lips for a brief moment.

[Y/n] giggled, “Only for you.” she replied and he smirked before pulling her down for a kiss once more, his snake-like tongue licking her bottom lip asking for permission in which she gladly permitted him.

Tongues tangled with one another, moaning against each other's lips as they hungrily kissed each other. Almost seven years of bottling their feelings finally spilled forth. Their touches on each other's skin igniting it aflame with passion.

“Can I undress you...?” he asked, voice almost desperate as he parts away from her lips, “Please...?” he asked, almost a whine.

[Y/n]'s breath hitched ever so slightly, a warm and fluttery feeling on her stomach, “Yes, please do,” she whispers, stammering slightly before their lips met once more.

Their hands eagerly began to undress each other. Hands shaking, small moans and giggles escape their lips as they kissed. One by one clothes were discarded off their bodies and thrown haphazardly out of the bed and down to the floor.

Lucifer's breath hitched, his eyes half-lidded, his rosy red cheeks darkening even more as he stared at the woman above him. The soft glow of the chandelier highlighted her flushed bare skin, his eyes lowered down to her chest, causing him to look away flustered.

[Y/n] smirked, not used to seeing him be so flustered. She places a hand underneath his chin, tilting his head back to look at her, “Focus on me.”

‘Goodness, when did she become so straightforward?’ he asked himself, very flustered.

“God, you're so beautiful...” he breathes out, holding her hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing her knuckle gently.

Blood rushes up to [Y/n]'s cheeks as she hears his praise, flustered from his words and also flustered at the fact she could feel his throbbing length in-between her thighs. She's too flustered to look down on his body.

She chuckles, a breathy giggle coming out of her lips, “Coming from the most beautiful angel of creation? A highest compliment I'll ever receive.” she purrs and Lucifer smiled, showing off his pristine sharp teeth, “There's a lot more of that came from, I'll make sure to shower you with compliments.” he purrs.

[Y/n] giggled, holding his hand and bringing it to her chest, allowing his palm to touch her breast, “Touch me, please...?” she says, breathless, Lucifer's breath hitched, the room suddenly became even hotter.

Lucifer allowed his hand to massage her breast, thumb rubbing and teasing her nipple causing [Y/n] to silently moan, her hand covering her mouth. The delicious sounds she was making was causing him to throb, his length throbbing with need.

“Don't hide those beautiful sounds you're making, let me hear them love.” he whispers, his other hand holding her hand—that was covering her mouth—and moved it away from her lips.

[Y/n] panted, whimpers escaping past her plump red lips as Lucifer played with her chest, she felt his hand on her back, pushing her down and allowing himself to put his lips around her breast.

Blood rushes all over her body as pleasure courses through her veins, goosebumps dancing on her skin. A whine leaving her lips as she could feel his snake-like tongue swirling around her sensitive bud.

Lucifer closes his eyes as he enjoys himself pleasuring her, making sure both of her breasts receive the same treatment.

“Lift your hips for me, love.” he murmurs against her skin, causing [Y/n] to whimper but obediently obeyed. Lifting her lips slightly, holding on to his shoulders for support.

A sharp inhale is what she did, legs trembling as she felt the stimulation that came from his mouth on her and the stimulation of his fingers running through her slicked folds.

Lucifer grinned, already felt how wet she is for him. Her slick coated his slender fingers, “Look how aroused you are for me,” he purred, his finger immediately finding her clit, putting a delicious pressure on the sensitive bud, circling the pad of his thumb on it. She grinded on to his hand, causing him to smirk, “You're not allowed to move unless I tell you so, got it?” he asked, his voice smooth and filled with need, yet stern. She nodded frantically.

He continued his ministrations, finally slipping a finger to her entrance. [Y/n] gasped sharply, her legs trembled in pleasure as she tried to keep her hips lifted into the air.

Lucifer grinned, thrusting his long and slender finger into her tight entrance, he could feel her gummy walls hugging his digit causing him to chuckle, “Good girl, keep your hips up for me okay? Can you do that?” he asked with a smirk and [y/n] nodded, “Mhmm... Yes, yes...” she moaned pathetically.

He added another digit, easily slipping it inside, “So wet and warm for me...” he purred, scissoring his fingers to stretch and prepare her properly. [Y/n]'s toes curled up in pleasure, her hands gripping into his shoulders for dear life as her legs trembled.

“Lucifer... Stop teasing me...” she whined, accidentally rolling her hips against his hand.

Lucifer smirked, summoning the chain around her neck, the golden chain that connected to his hand. He tugged it, causing her to be slightly lunged forward—downward rather, close to his. The action causing sensual and pathetic whines leaving her lips, she loves it.

Lucifer gripped the chain, rough yet not enough to hurt her, his eyes narrowed at her flushed face, a smirk on his face, “What did I ordered you not to do?” he asked, leaning to her ear, [Y/n] swallowed thickly, shuddering at his tone. Still trying not to moan as his fingers never stopped thrusting in and out of her cunt.

“N-not to move...” she sputtered out, quite pathetically. Lucifer smirked, wondering where the confidence she had earlier went, “And what did you do?” he asked, smugly. Still holding on to the chain, “I moved...” she stammered.

Lucifer chuckled, “You naughty girl...” he purrs, rolling the chains around his hand as he pulls her even closer—dangerously close to his face.

“Naughty girls who don't do as they're told, need a little punishment to get them in line.” he smirked and [Y/n] gulped, both from nervousness and excitement, “I am going to remind you who you belong to, do you want that?” Lucifer asked, whispering to her ear, [y/n] whimpered, a small whine leaving her lips.

“Good girl, if it's too much say the word apple okay?” he says softly and she nodded, “Use your words, love.” he says sternly and she looked at him with a half-lidded gaze, filled with lust and trust, “Yes, I will say apple if it's too much.” she says, almost a whisper and he smiled, “Good.”

A pathetic sobbed escape her lips as she was denied from orgasm for... She lost count, somehow their positions switched with her now underneath him as he continues to thrust his fingers inside her swollen cunt, “Luci please...” she whined, whimpering from overstimulation, Lucifer tilted his head in confusion, his fingers snugged comfortingly around her gummy walls, a grin on his face.

“Please what?” he cooed, kissing away her tears. His back stinging in slight pain from the scratches of her nails but he doesn't mind the slightest.

She sobbed, “Please let me cum...” she pleaded and he hummed, giving her forehead a little kiss, “Since you begged so nicely and it seems you've learned your lesson. I suppose you earned it.” he smirked, finally slipping out his fingers from her core, his fingers glistening with her slick causing him to smirk, she whined from the loss of his fingers from her cunt. Straddling her lap as he admired his fingers, causing [Y/n] to blush.

He brought forth his hand to his mouth, making sure to keep an eye contact with her as he sucked his own fingers, tasting her essence on his tongue.

[Y/n] watches him with wide eyes, her breathing quickened as she watches him erotically sucked his fingers.

He released his fingers from his lips with a pop, a teasing grin on his face, “Absolutely delectable, something I can't get enough of.” he says with a smirk, admiring how her cheeks reddened even more but he can't be a hypocrite, he knows and feels how red his own cheeks were too.

She avoided his gaze, he smiled as he placed his hand underneath her chin, tilting her head to look at him. My, how the tables have turned.

“You're such a tease.” [Y/n] pouted slightly, Lucifer chuckles.

“Payback for being naughty.” he says smugly and she playfully rolls her eyes at him, “I've been good to you, please stop teasing me...” she begged and he hummed, pretending to think, “Is this your first time?” he asked with a slight hum and she nodded shyly.

A smile found its way to his face, “I'll make sure to be gentle then.” he says, summoning a bottle of lubricant out of thin air and popping the bottle open.

[Y/n] watched in awestruck, watching him apply some lube to his length, her eyes widening as she finally realized his girth and length—she finally knew where the rest of his height went.

Lucifer saw her awestruck gaze, he chuckled as he placed the bottle of lube into the bedside table, giving his lover an assuring smile, “Tell me if it hurts or if it's too much. Your pleasure is my priority, understand?” he says sternly and [Y/n] nodded shyly, he sighs, “Use your words darling, what was the safe word?” he asked.

“Apple.” she answered softly and he nodded, “Good girl, remember to use it when you want me to stop okay?” he asked, using his hand wot swept away the strands of her falling hair out of her face, some of it sticking to her forehead.

“Yes..” she replied while nodding and Lucifer smiled, “It will hurt at first but tell me when to move.” he says and she nodded.

Lucifer inhaled a sharp breath, aligning his length to her entrance before gently sinking himself inch-by-inch inside her.

[Y/n] let out a sharp gasp as she felt him stretched her open, her back arching slightly in pain. Lucifer noticed her discomfort and decided to kiss her gently on the lips to distract her, his thumb wiping away her tears while his other hand held her waist.

[Y/n] tries to kiss back, trying to distract herself from the delicious yet painful stretch his length gave her, her toes curling in pleasure and pain as she finally felt him slide the rest of him in her. Skin against skin, causing her to gasp as he finally sheathes himself fully inside her.

Lucifer groaned as he finally slid the rest of him inside, her tight walls clenching around him making him whine softly against her lips before peppering kisses around her throat, “Are you okay...? Do you want me to stop...?” he asked worriedly and [Y/n] shakes her head no, “I'm fine, just give me a moment to adjust please.” she says softly, choking on a whine.

Lucifer nodded, remaining still as possible despite wanting to move. He'll give her time to adjust around him.

[Y/n] took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. When she finally felt the pain was manageable, she held Lucifer's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, “You can move now...” she says shyly and Lucifer smiled, kissing her forehead and nodded to her.

Lucifer began to roll his hips, gently thrusting in and out of her, length sliding out and eventually sinking back in, deep. This caused [Y/n] to let out a needy moan and a pathetic whine from Lucifer as he nuzzled his head at the crook of her neck.

He started off slow, gentle, and sensual, making sure she's comfortable and slowly getting used to this. His mind is constantly fighting with itself, fighting the urge to suddenly become rough with her.

“So wet for me.. l-look h-how easy I slide in and out of you, l-love...” he praises in between choked needy moans, his hips never stopping it's thrusts, his praise causing [Y/n] mewl softly, her hands gripping to his back for dear life. Her sharp nails scratched his pale and blemish free skin. He slightly groaned in pleasure at the sting, his hips never stopped rolling against hers. Slowly increasing his pace.

The bed creaked, their moans and pants filled his bedroom as they made love to each other. Almost seven years of fantasizing about this moment, they finally have it and experienced it.

Each thrust he made almost made him come undone, he's desperately trying to hold on as long as he could, trying to lengthen the moment. His hand squeezed hers in each thrust, whimpers and desperate whines left his lips. It's been seven years since he felt this kind of intimacy so he's feeling everything of her in great lengths.

“[Y/n], [Y/n], [Y/n], [Y/n]...” he whined her name, hips stuttering occasionally as he thrusted, loud squelching sounds filled the room as he thrusted. [Y/n] can no longer form coherent thoughts or words, babbles and moans were the only things coming out of her lips, whining and mewling his name.

Lucifer's moans got louder and louder as they approached their climax, it's increasingly hard to continue, “[Y-y/n... I'm so close, 'm gonna cum...” he whined against her shoulder and [Y/n] can feel a knot forming in her stomach, warm fluttery feeling filled her stomach as she too felt like she was about to burst, “Lucifer, Lucifer, L-Lucifer, I'm s-so s-so cl-close...” she chanted out like a prayer, her voice raising a pitch from pleasure.

He bit her shoulder slightly, not enough to draw blood or hurt her, he can feel himself getting closer and closer, “'m gonna cum, gonna cumgonnacumgonnacum... I'm cummi—!” he whined against her skin as his hips stuttered, shooting thick load of his essence inside her.

[Y/n] can feel warmth inside her, causing her to moan loudly, her hands gripped into his skin as she finally orgasmed for the first time.

Lucifer presses his forehead against hers, both of them trying to catch their breaths. A toothy smile appeared on his face as he chuckled, he gave her a gentle kiss on the lips which caused her to smile through the kiss, “That was amazing, you were amazing...” he said, breathless and panting and she chuckled, “You were amazing too...” she whispers and he just giggled.

“Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, didn't I?” he asked worriedly and she shakes her head, a smile on her face, “No, no you did not.” she says with a whisper and he grinned, “Thank goodness... I thought I was too rough and hurt you.” he says with a slight frown.

“I'm alright, love. In fact, you were amazing. Thank you for being my first time.” she says shyly and his rosy red cheeks darkened, “It was an honor too, thank you so much for trusting me.” he says softly, caressing her cheeks. She nuzzled her face against the palm of his hand, “Thank you, too.”

He smiled at her, finally pulling out of her. His thick essence drips out of her, causing him to blush, he cleared his throat, “I'll go prepare the bath for us.” he says and kisses her forehead, he giggles, “I love you.” she says and his eyes softened, "I love you too.” he replied and kissed her hand before going to the bathroom to prepare the bath for the both of them. [Y/n] smiled, thankful for her decision which caused her to find the love of her life. He too is thankful for finding her. A weird romance but they certainly made it work, so all's well that ends well.

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @yukichan67 @apple-pop @akiralovespenguins @storydays @kaurochika @amphiroxx @lil-writer-523 @punching-pentagrams @moonlovers34 @akiqvq @the-attention-whore @asmodeussimpnumber1 @viannasthings @soft-enbee @stormz369

[mysumeow]

──TENDERLY LOVED

Warnings: SMUT. afab genitalia, gender neutral pronouns. PIV unprotected sex, Malleus takes a dominant role throughout the smut, edging (reader receiving), overstimulation (reader receiving), cunnilingus. not proofread it is what it is.

Summary: Malleus loves your body tenderly, taking his time to pleasure you; unfortunately, there's just so much your human body can swallow.

Word count: 1.3k

If the most ancient of faes from Briar Valley knew their prince kneeled in front of a human’s parted legs to pleasure them…

You find your balance in the blankets by gripping them until it felt like the fabric was about to rip. Malleus’s unyielding hands keep your trembling legs separated for his voracious mouth and tongue.

The prince believed the tender pace he was performing between your thighs was purely loving, taking his time to prepare you for what was about to come—the truth was, it made you more desperate. It was beyond delightful—his tongue lapping up your juices and the way he would dig in his nails into you, but you felt like you were being edged. His tongue licked along the expanse of your lips, from top to bottom, alternating between sucking and thrusting inside.

You wished to close your legs around his head and urge him to go faster.

“Please, Malleus,” you cried, desperation for that sweet release that was just out of your reach. “Please, I need more,”

“Are you not enjoying yourself?” And he had the audacity to ask, knowing how your legs wobbled in his grasp. “My, from how much you’re quivering, I’d think I wasn’t going easy on you,” he licked his lips clean of your slick.

“It’s—It’s because when I’m about to...” Your voice wavered from embarrassment at the idea of having to explain to him that he was edging you without knowing. “You can go faster,”

“How?” He looked at you with inquisitive eyes, and you couldn’t discern if he was pretending to not know or if it was genuine curiosity. “I’d be delighted to learn how to properly treat my beloved,”

You wanted to turn around and hide your face in your pillow from timidity, and had you not been eager for that orgasm, you would’ve. Regardless, you slid your fingers inside yourself, showing him the pace you wanted him to follow. With your other hand, you rubbed your sensitive clit, your hips twitching. With a quick heartbeat that seemed to increase, your cheeks felt like they were aflame too. Your mind kept reeling back to the prince’s tongue in your cunt, your juices mixing with his saliva...

Almost losing yourself in the memory, you were about to cum until you felt him squeeze your thighs again.

“So that’s how you like it…” His hand pulled yours towards his mouth, taking your wet fingers inside and sucking on them, lapping up even in between your fingers. “Like that?”

Before you could answer, Malleus went back to placing his fingers inside, and thrust them. Repeating the same intensity with which he had sucked your fingers a few seconds ago, he did it on your clit. The sudden pleasure left you gasping. Malleus’s own reddened ears flicked as he took in every sound of pleasure you moaned and whined, his dick pushing up against the fabric of his pants.

Amidst your satisfaction, one of Malleus’s hands abandoned its place on your thighs to seek yours, interlacing each other while he brought you to an orgasm. His hand tightened around yours, keeping you in place as he made sure you rode all your release on his tongue.

The dragon fae was eager to continue and didn’t give you enough time to catch your breath before he moved on top of your disheveled self and kissed you. His fingers were still gliding in and out of you, Malleus’s hungry tongue slid against yours, further thickening that fog in your head. Your fingers tangled in his hair, caressing the base of his horns. The simple action earns you a groan from him. You sense some hesitancy from him about what he should do, and you position your legs around his hips, grinding down on his hard on.

You froze when you noticed something.

You were aware of Malleus’s particular bodily constitution below the belt, but just feeling it through his clothes made you wonder how big it was.

Malleus observed your wavering.

“Something’s wrong?”

You glanced at him and saw his eyebrows furrow in worry.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

Malleus opened his mouth to question further, but you grabbed him by his tie and pulled him in for a kiss. Your lips felt already tender from how often he grazed and teased them with his fangs, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like it.

Malleus’s patience was going to be the bane of your existence. If Malleus could spend the rest of the night just pleasuring you and making you climax until you would lose count of how many times you did, he would—and that’s why you search for his belt to unbuckle it and pull his zipper down.

Hard, hot, and heavy, his dick slapped against his lower abdomen once bared. You can’t help but eye it up, thinking about how it's going to fit.

The tip slid in with minimum effort; from there on, his cock was thick and long. His size was far bigger than anything you’ve taken, your insides trying to accommodate it as much as you could—until it touched your innermost part.

And there were still an inch more yet to be stuffed in you.

Even if it didn’t hurt, you couldn’t believe you underestimated how sizable it was. You never imagined just how big a draconic fae could be down there.

You gripped Malleus's forearms, your words stuck in your throat in place of a whimper. His eyes were hazy from pleasure; your small body (in comparison to his large frame) was trying to fit as much of him as possible, and it still wasn't enough.

The prince pulled back and gave another experimental thrust to see your reaction. The hefty drag of his dick caused your chest to heave; torturously delicious, your legs went up to lock around him again.

Seeing as you were getting used to his size, he increased the tempo, watching for any sign of discomfort.

"You're doing so good," he whispered, his hand caressing your cheek. "Next time, perhaps you'll be able to have it all,"

You placed your hand on his, teary eyes looking up at him. "I want it. Everything,"

"Take it easy," he kissed your cheek. "You can barely take it in, and yet you're asking for more," The lecherous gaze he sent you made your face's warmth intensify.

With a firm hold on your hips, he pulled your body against his, the back of your legs meeting his lap with each steady movement. His kisses moved from your lips towards your exposed neck, where he didn't hold back in marking. His fangs teased the sensitive flesh, sinking at a surface level and retracting when you thought he would bite.

You could feel his complacent grin against your skin. The fae had a playful, teasing side, after all.

You jolted the instant his hand dipped down to rub your clit, followed by Malleus's own sound of pleasure from how you tightened.

"Mal," you hugged him, your chest pressing against his. You panted, trying to warn him of your approaching orgasm, his tip repeatedly touching your innermost sensible spot. His mouth is on yours, swallowing your trembling moans and gasps of delight.

The feeling of you cumming around him made him lose whatever restraint he had left. Your sex met his in a sloppy manner, and soon he came right after you. Malleus's strong arms tugged your body taut to his, filling you with copious amounts of cum.

When he pulled out, more of his release dripped from your overstimulated pussy. Malleus kissed lovingly down your navel, towards your lower abdomen.

You felt like your mind was spinning around after two hard orgasms, but your fae boyfriend didn't appear to be satisfied yet. You shuddered when he pushed what dripped outside back in with his fingers, a ravenous look observing you.

"You seem to have bewitched me, my beloved. I haven't had my fill yet," he bit on your thigh. "This time, I'll ensure everything fits…"

[charliemwrites]

Government Asset Soap! This is half of the last part (the smut got too long and I wanted to post this dammit).

Original concept comes from @ceilidho’s military asset Soap. Further inspiration came from @391780’s Nikto version “The Summons”. Both are very good and you should definitely check out!!

Content: Post-trauma coping, Non-Con Touching and Kissing, Violence (mentioned), Unstable Soap

It’s probably a fire hazard, the candles. They’re sprinkled across your little cabin like fireflies, feeble but steady heartbeats of a home you’re failing to build. Too many of them, likely. Two, sometimes three, per room. Tiny tealights, smokeless soy, scented pine. It would be easier, safer, to just turn on the lamps you foolishly invested in.

You can’t bear anything brighter than golden halogen anymore, though. The glare drags you back to a tiny cell bisected by cruel metal, holding back an even crueler fate. No, you’d much rather wade through pools of shadow and firelight, fire code be damned.

It’s a small cabin, but you’ve already cluttered it up with furniture and rugs, a theme for each room. Yellow and blue for the kitchen. Purple and cream for the den. Green and brown for your bedroom. Nooks to hide in, spaces to squeeze into, big shapes to huddle behind. You’ll never be caught out in a cold, barren room ever again.

Your days are long regardless of the time of year. Get groceries in town every day, making a point to be friendly and seen so that someone might notice if you suddenly stop coming. Clean incessantly, so many surfaces to dust. Pick hobbies like daisies. Knitting and crocheting, different paint styles, felting. You’re contemplating carpentry, would like to build shelves for all the books stacked up in the den. Keep a dream journal by your bed that you neglect for weeks at a time.

You draw out the nights until you can count the hours until dawn on one hand. Stay up baking, making homemade ink, learning new ways to style your hair, anything, anything, anything—

It’s not the sleeping – or at least that’s not the worst of it. It’s the waking.

Laswell suggested a cat.

You told her to stop suggesting pussy to unstable people.

But it’s still not a bad idea. Another living thing to keep you accountable; the plants are pretty and time-consuming, but not good company.

You talk yourself out of it every time, knowing the worst-case scenario. It’s not catastrophizing if it actually happens, and you can feel an invisible time weighing on your shoulders like another gravity. Tick, tick, tick. Heavier, heavier, heavier. It’s hard to breathe beneath the wait.

The military doesn’t do apologies. It does platitudes at best. Well wishes and good intentions are painted in brushstrokes of blood. Victory flags are planted on bodies, living or otherwise. Laswell apologized. She swore that if there had been another way – any other way…

She didn’t promise to leave you alone. Didn’t assure you that you’d never see her or her goons again.

If you thought it would do any good, you’d tip one of the candles over and set it all aflame. Rebirth through fire. But you never did figure yourself for a phoenix. And besides, a phoenix is still itself, even when the ash falls away.

So, you spool out your time like picking at tapestry threads, one thin string at time.

Tonight, it’s bread. Cinnamon chocolate babka, to be specific. You were craving something sweet. Are debating the merits of some sort of cream cheese icing while you shower off the long, ever-busy day.

Have decided on an optimistic why not as you slip out to begin your overly complicated self-care routine. Moisturizers, hair oils, lotion. An unexpected benefit of overloading yourself, you suppose. Even when you first got out of the military, you didn’t take such good care of yourself. You have a jogging route now. You’re handling your trauma every possible way except therapy. (And sleeping.) Better than nothing, you figure.

The candles have gone out in your bedroom. You click your tongue in annoyance, trying to remember where you left the matches this time. Bedside table?

You pad across the soft carpet, using the edge of the bed as a guide in the pitch black. The only other problem with candles is that their humble light doesn’t reach very far. But you know this house and keep the floors tidy enough that you’re confident you won’t trip.

Make it to the nightstand without incident and pat around. Knock the side of your hand into the little carton and only just catch it before it hits the deck. Let out a little huff and start to fumble it open.

“Nice catch, bonnie.”

You gasp, but your voice doesn’t get any farther than the back of your tongue. The box slips from your numb fingers, matchsticks scattering across the floor. He tsks.

“Shame that. We’ll get ‘em later.”

You can’t move. Can barely breathe. You’re just frozen, heart thundering with a sudden storm of fear and confusion. Hands still aloft in front of you, spine rigid, knees locked.

You feel more than hear movement behind you, and then the warmth of his body seeping into your naked skin. Not quite touching. Not yet.

“Missed you, little bird,” he rasps in your ear.

You always thought that in a moment like this you would scream. Kick and elbow and fight, damn your certain loss. But when it comes down to it, survival drowns out all those stupid, haughty ideas about pride and dignity. So you don’t curse and shout like you always fancied you would.

You whisper, “Soap.”

He hums but it sounds like a growl in your panicked state. “Missed me too, aye? You’re already naked fer me.”

His hands are searing when they settle on your waist like they belong there. He pulls you back against him; in the dark he’s bigger, broader than you remember. At least, you think, he’s fully clothed for now.

“What are you… how are you here?” you ask.

He barks a laugh, mean and rough. “Was only a matter of time after that shite they pulled.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and see it recreated in the phosphenes behind your lids.

Soap buried balls deep inside of you, murmuring a constant stream of filth as he got harder and harder inside you. Filling you up as you twitched around him, oversensitive and teary, afraid of what would come next.

Then the lights flashed, flicked red. An alarm sounded, Laswell’s voice ordering Soap away from you. But he just snarled and hunched over you, hips snapping to bury himself right back inside while you cried out.

The locked door swung in, armed guards swarming in. Yanked Soap off you while you scrambled to cover yourself. Someone grabbing your arm none too gently to pull you from the room. Soap wild-eyed and snarling like something possessed, until he was overtaken by struggling guards and you were trembling naked in that damned hallway.

“Was mad at you, at first, cannae lie,” he says, almost conversational. Your eyes snap open, though you know it’ll do you no good. “But I’ve had time to think on it. Wasnae yer fault, was it? Saw them drag you out.”

An awful relief floods you. Fuck dignity, fuck honesty. This is Soap right behind you, completely unrestrained and unsupervised.

“Yeah,” you answer, voice small. “I didn’t know they would do that. What… um. What happened to you?”

He presses his face into your damp hair, pressing closer, snaking his arms to squeeze you against him.

“Sent me off on some shite mission,” he explains, “probably hoped I’d die out there. You smell so good, lass.”

You shiver as his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your neck. Hot, humid.

“And… and then what?” you insist, trying to stall.

You’re not sure what you’re stalling for. There will be no miraculous saves here – not that you really got any last time. It’s not like there’s any real plan to be made here, either. None that you’d be confident enough to risk his wrath on.

“Disappeared. Took care of business. Came to get my pretty little bird.”

A rough hand trails over the curve of your hip, brush the neat curls of your mound. You suck in a breath, hands twitching with the urge to stop him but not sure of putting up resistance when you’re still unsure of his mental state.

“And what about you, hm?” he rumbles. “Been a good girl while I’ve been away?”

His fingers dart down towards your entrance, not nearly prepared for anything. Least of all his thick digits.

“Y-yes!” you yelp, grabbing at his wrist. Relief makes you dizzy when you manage to stop him. “I-I’ve been good. Which means I’m not… I can’t just take you. I need… I need prep.”

He huffs, nips at the tender spot beneath your ear. The thrill that shoots through your stomach is terrifying.

“That’s what these are for, bonnie.”

And to your horror, he starts to push past your resistance like your staying hands aren’t there at all.

“John!”

He freezes. You shudder air into your burning lungs, feeling dizzy on panic.

You can get through this without pain, just think.

“I haven’t even got to see you,” you stutter, voice shaky. Can’t quite inject the disappointment you’re trying for, but hopefully it’ll work. “And I bet you’re all dirty from travel.”

He grumbles. “So what?”

You scramble to think of a satisfactory response. “S-so let’s get reacquainted in the shower, yeah? That way I can see your handsome face, at least.”

He chuckles, grazes his teeth “playfully” across your cheek. “Bossy thing.”

“You like it.”

And to your shock, he agrees with an amused huff. Hauls you up in his arms and walks you back to the still muggy bathroom. You’re set on your feet and spun around, chin jerked up to receive a savage kiss. All tongue and teeth, no finesse. He’s just licking into your mouth, hungry and animalistic, spit dribbling down your chin.

When he finally pulls away, you blink spots from your vision. Finally focus on his smug features and make a soft, horrified noise when you register the splatter of crimson across them.

“Och, that? My little bird had watchers.”

Of course you did. The horror ebbs a bit. Resentment has made you indiscriminately bitter.

“Oh,” you say, “th-thank you. Definitely glad we’re showering first, then.”

“Squeamish?”

You’d like to know when the world turned upside down and John fucking “Soap” MacTavish began teasing you about the blood on his face.

“A bit,” you admit.

“Poor dear,” he coos. “Hard to believe we were made for each other sometimes, aye? Complementary, we are.”

Is that what he thinks? Christ.

You turn to start the shower again, spine prickling with the weight of his eyes on your back. The water rushes down and then he’s crowding you against the cold wall beneath the (thankfully) warm spray.

“Y-you’re still dressed!” you protest between sharp nips to your collarbone.

“Fix it, then,” he snarls.

You claw his shirt up his back, get momentarily distracted by the impressive display of muscle hidden beneath. Draw your palms over his chest and feel him shudder.

“Fuckin’ heavenly, love,” he purrs. “Missed this.”

A vague memory comes back to you, him gripping you close because he felt you naked against him for the first time. Him admitting he hasn’t had affectionate touch in a while.

This… this you could work with.

[enviedear]

can you pleaseeee do the reader’s first with billy??

i feel like that man would be a gentle giant 😞🩷

first time with billy bonney...

you asked so nicely i gave you a full fic <3 enjoy 2k words of first time cuteness with our favorite outlaw

tw— 18+ smut, minors dni, piv, unprotected sex, (do better irl) cumming inside

request

billy's charming in the way he helps you off his horse, eyes as bright as the stars above. you let yourself walk with him, hands interlocked and arms brushing together, as you escort him back to your small cabin.

up here, away from the fast-growing town, trees stand tall and animals call out—it's wild out here. so wild in fact, that no one in the gambling den batted an eye when the gunslinger offered to accompany you home. his citation of some recent bobcat attacks being enough to make his sinfully intended sentiment sound as if it were an honorable and gracious one.

of course, not that you gave it any mind. none at all. for as sure as the days are long, it's no question that you've fallen head first for the man on the run. in just a few weeks of his strolling into town, he's managed to endear himself so effortlessly to you.

you watch his slender fingers graze the doorknob of the wooden door, "i can find som'where else to stay tonight, darlin'. if you've changed your mind."

his voice is hushed and you furrow your brows at his admission, "why would i change my mind?" your resolve is unwavering as you look up at him, your stare wrought with permission.

he pushes the door open, letting you step inside first. for a second, you think he may back down, regret his decision at the den, and leave you here alone with only the idea of what could have been.

such thoughts are promptly absolved from your head when he wraps his strong, yet lean, arms around you. his chest becomes flush against you, and you note the prominent bulge pressing into your backside— how could you have ever thought of rejection? this is the furthest from it, this is obvious clearance, a promise.

"you look so pretty," billy whispers, cool breath hitting your shoulder, "i want you s'bad... just don't let me scare you."

another confused expression graces your face, "why would you scare me?"

the gunslinger breaths in your scent, nose brushing along the curve of your neck, "'cause i know how much i want you. m'crazy for you, sweetheart," he pauses to turn your head toward him, pointer finger at your chin, "just don't want to be too much and scare you away."

you ease into his touch, turning to face him, defenses down at his confession, "i won't run, billy. i like you too much."

your words seem to ignite the spark of passion within him as he pauses to let his eyes trail over your lips before finding your eyes again. the act is small but apparent enough that you feel comfortable enough to slide your hands up to his chest. his heartbeat thumps against your hands, rate accelerated.

with a shaky breath, you lean into him, lips brushing his. lingering, you feel as if you're on the edge of a cliff seconds away from jumping into the waters below. you feel him give the softest smile, bottom lip bumping into your own. the little sensation lights you aflame, and you have to fight back a moan when he finally presses his lips to yours.

his kiss is saccharine, loving, and careful. his hands keep you steady, at your hips, drawing you into him. you feel utterly lost in his being. the way he kisses you, slow and graceful, a welcome surprise. used to rowdy farmhands' awkward kisses and scorned by vicious schoolboys' unsolicited pecks, you've never had a kiss so sweet.

as his tongue tentatively brushes against your lips, you feel your body responding in a way you never thought possible. you feel animalistic, wanton and greedy. your hands grip his shirt, pulling him closer as you part your lips and let him deepen the kiss. the taste of him is intoxicating, and you can't get enough.

with a sudden urgency, billy pulls you towards him and lifts you onto the nearby table. you gasp as he breaks away from the kiss to trail kisses along your jawline before nipping at your neck. your head falls back, exposing more of your neck to him, and you hear him groan in approval.

his hands roam your body, tracing the curve of your waist before sliding under your shirt to cup your breasts. you arch into him, craving the touch of his rough hands on your bare skin. your own hands find their way to the buttons of his shirt, fumbling with them before pulling it off his body and revealing his toned stomach. you run your hands across his chest, feeling the stiff muscles under your fingertips.

you break away from him momentarily to catch your breath, gazing into his eyes as he looks back at you with such intensity that you feel like he's seeing straight into your spirit, "i want you," he whispers, voice husky with desire, have the minute i laid eyes on you."

billy eases you back onto the table, lips grazing your own, the feel of his skin against your own sending shivers down your spine. as your fingers fumble with his belt, you're reminded of your lack of experience.

you pause to look into his eyes, silently asking him for reassurance, "s'okay, darlin', trust me." his lips press against yours, reassuring and gentle, "you're doing s'good already."

you can't help but grow warm at his words, the bravery and candor in his voice giving away your own effect over him, "i trust you." you whisper against his lips, pulling him impossibly closer.

he hums, kissing you again before sliding your dress shirt off your body. you feel his hands roam your waist, following the curve of your stomach to rest on the swell of your hips, holding you steady.

you take a moment to appreciate the sight of billy's bare chest—the way the moonlight filters through the windows, casting an ethereal hue on his body. you catch yourself wondering if you'll be so lucky to have him in your bed again, and you decide then and there that if he leaves, you won't let him go alone.

focusing back into the ardor of his embrace, the kiss as passionate as it was before, if not more. your tongues dance against each other, neither of you keeping a single thing to yourselves. billy's hands slide around to your hips, gripping at your skirt.

a shiver runs up your spine as he pulls you into him, feeling the weight of him press against your thigh. the heat from his body feels almost as strong as your desire for him, and you shudder from the contact, "i need—" you break away from him, hands fumbling at your own clothes, "i need you, billy…"

you pull your skirts up, revealing yourself to the dark-haired man before you. billy's eyes are trapped on your hips, lingering on your underwear as his hands slide up your hips and hook themselves around your bloomers, "never had a lady tell me what she wants," he murmurs, "s'direct."

his words drive you to press your hips into his, wanting him to know that you mean it, "please, i need you."

his lips find your neck, teeth nipping at your collarbone, "i need you, too, darlin'."

you close your eyes, hands finding their way to the button of his pants, "take them off."

you hear him chuckle and he slides down off the table, unlacing his belt as he steps out of his pants. you turn your head from him, flustered as you slide your undergarments off your hips and legs, kicking them to the side to fully expose yourself to him.

the gunslinger glides your back onto the table, eyes grazing over every curve and plane of your body as you lie before him, "you're so beautiful, darlin'."

you smile at his words, reaching your hands out for him as he lowers himself over you. your breaths seem to come faster, riddled with nerves.

you can feel his breath on your cheek, and you lean into him, "billy..." his lips kiss yours once, stopping you from saying anything further. you can feel his erection press against your thigh.

his hands find your hips and slowly slide you towards him, "just relax." he whispers as his eyes find yours.

you feel him press against you, and you close your eyes, bracing yourself for the pain. you suddenly feel a heat wave course through you, leaving a trail of nerve endings burning at his every touch. the gunslinger groans in approval and kisses your neck, seemingly urging you to relax more.

you feel him nip at your collarbone before slowly easing into you. you feel a light burning sensation, but it seems to be more from his movement than from his dick. his hips are gentle as he thrusts into you, his breath catching in his throat as you move your hips. the gunslinger's hands move to your waist, gripping at you as he pulls you into him.

the need for oxygen breaks your kiss, and billy's lips slide up to your ear, nipping at it as he thrusts into you with more force. you gasp, your back arching as he pulls you into him. you hear him groan in approval, "darlin', you're s'tight, and warm…you feel so good. i could stay inside of you forever."

you shudder at his words, unaccustomed to such vulgar remarks. your mind is filled with thoughts that no lady would ever think, but you find that you don't care. the pleasure billy brings you is more than enough to excuse what others might consider improper.

his lips find your neck again, leaving gentle kisses across your skin. you shiver as you feel him pant against your skin, "more, darlin', let me hear."

you nod your head, not at all sure what to expect. as billy's thrusts become harder, your nails dig into the tops of his arms, leaving light trails of red on his skin. he groans, "good girl."

your mind begins to cloud, your body becoming light with pleasure, "billy…"

as he moves within you, your body instinctively tenses and your breaths become labored. billy's hands grip your hips tightly, urging you to move with him as he thrusts deeper and harder. you can feel the tension building inside of you, a primal heat that intensifies with each movement.

"god, darlin', you're so close. i feel it." he whispers huskily in your ear, his words fueling your desire even more. your nails dig into his arms, leaving marks on his skin as you cling to him desperately.

finally, the wave crashes over you and pure ecstasy washes over your entire being. billy's own release follows closely behind yours, his muttered words blending into the symphony of pleasure that surrounds you both. as you lay there, spent and gasping for air, billy wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. his weight is a comforting pressure against your body as he remains inside of you for a few moments longer.

eventually, he pulls out and lies next to you on the table, allowing both of your bodies to relax and catch their breath. you turn towards him, gazing into his deep blue eyes that are filled with adoration and passion. this intimate moment between the two of you feels like an eternity as you bask in each other's presence. you turn and face him, smiling as you lean to kiss him.

you know you've never been so satisfied, and you can't help but feel happy for the choice you made. the gunslinger is kind enough to take you to your bed, snuggling into both you and your covers.

you lay in his arms, exhausted from your previous activity. billy looks down at you and smiles, "you did real good, sweetheart. i didn't scare you, did i?"

you shake your head, stupid grin on your face, "no, billy. you were perfect."

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

billy taglist— @honey-bees-13 @poppyflower-22 @black-yn @siriuslybeloved @sherlollyliveson18 @cosmicspacewitch @aravenswritingdeskblog @sabrinasbd

[cammys-imagines24]

• Touch and Kaz Brekker •

You knew what you signed up for when you fell in love with the bastard of the barrel. Touch was never going to come easy.

There are times where the mere thought of touch causes bile to rise up in Kaz's throat and makes him recede into himself. Turning into no more than a phantom to you, haunted by his past.

And then there are times where Kaz takes to touch with a curiosity that can only come from a boy in love. Where he yearns to experience the intimacies that come when two people are joined.

Such as when a breeze travels through one of the Slat's windows and inadvertently causes strands of hair to fall onto your forehead.

Kaz is caught off guard, wishing more than anything that he could tuck those stray strands behind your ear.

Or when he notices you dressed for the evening, perhaps in a dress. Your bare shoulders glinting in the candlelight.

Kaz practically aches to kiss your aflame skin.

Such as one eases into a tub filled with steaming water, it took caution and time to get Dirtyhands used to the concept of touch. To realize his fantasies could slowly but surely become a reality with you and you alone.

First, it started with you wearing one of his own gloves. The fabric like a second skin to him by now. So, when your gloved hand made contact with his chest, to feel his heartbeat, it was bearable.

You were more than happy to go at his speed, to cherish any crumbs of intimacy he was able to maintain.

And with his own gloves you could touch parts of his body.

But eventually Kaz wanted more. Needed more.

So, one day the gloves came off.

You had never seen Kaz's bare hands so clearly before. Pale and thin. Magician's fingers. And they were cold to the touch when he placed his hand in yours.

The skin to skin contact was enough to make Kaz feel the dark waters at his feet, ready to pull him under but he fought it. He fought it for you and because honestly, his desire was greater than his fear.

He held your hands with reverence, memorizing every line upon your palms until he worked his way upwards.

His fingers, light as air, ghosting over your collarbones, your jaw, the cupid's bow of your lips...

Oh, Kaz wanted to drown but he also wanted to continue, to push himself. He concentrated on how warm your skin felt.

Not cold or clammy like the bloated corpses he remembered. You were soft, your heartbeat thumping beneath his fingertips. So alive.

Kaz vowed to himself that he would get better for you. Brick by brick. So one day he could give you more than puny crumbs.

He wanted to kiss you. To feel you more than just a few measly caresses.

He would become a man for you. Not just a boy plagued by trauma. Hell, eventually Kaz would love nothing more than to pick you up in his arms and sweep you off your feet.

But, baby steps. One day at a time. Healing required patience and you had ample enough to give.

Though the first time Kaz pulled you in for a kiss you felt like your heart might stop.

The brush of his lips against yours gentle yet dripping with years of constrained passion.

The tide lapped at Kaz's feet, of course, yet the pull of you was a light amidst the dark sea in his mind.

Kaz thought, if he should die at this moment, he would die happy.

Your mouth against his burned him in the most blissful way and he knew he was instantly addicted.

He would fight any nightmare, he would wade against the coldest of water, if it meant one more kiss, one more touch from you.

And Kaz was nothing if not persistent in getting what he wanted.

So, he would conquer his fears for you. His love.

[fxtalitygod]

VIII. ~Survival~

Summary: You were determined to survive longer than anyone, even if you were set to marry him.

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pet names (Little Flower used 5-6x) implied harsh parenting {on Sukuna's end), mentions of adult murder, implications of impregnating, implied Stockholm Syndrome, images/depictions of dead bodies (both human and animal), child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), NOT PROOFREAD YET (sorry ;-;)

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: For starters, I want to clarify that I am choosing to purposely not mention the names of the twins. Although this makes it difficult on my end, I wanted you, the reader, to decide on the names of your choosing while reading.

P.S. This is the longest chapter I have written. Sorry it took so long but I hope it proves well and worth the wait. (╥﹏╥)

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX

You could see the fire, smell the blood, and hear their screams as they begged for mercy. They cried out for their children and loved ones whose bodies were now burning in the roaring flames, reduced to cinders and ashes. Those who threatened to charge were killed before they could make contact, their body contorting in ways the human form was incapable of, causing cries of pure agony as they were left to bleed out in their mangled state– they were left to suffer in their pain as the life slowly drained out of them. If a suffering soul was fortunate, the fire would catch them aflame and kill them faster, or debris would land in a fatal spot or crush them whole to end their misery.

Viewing the demolished structures and flaming bodies, both dead and alive, was a petrifying view– yet you felt nothing. Your breath was methodical, your expression blank, your body unmoving. Pity and remorse were thrown out the window– fear and anguish had long vanished; however, anger and resentment lingered like a tiny flickering flame that continued to grow with each crumble and cry that could be heard.

Although your exterior appearance seemed calm and collected, your heartbeat said otherwise as it accelerated, pounding against your chest so hard you could eventually drown out the hollars of distress with its rapid thumping.

“Mama, look!” Two voices sounded.

Your breath hitched as the familiar calls rang through your head. The pounding in your chest quickened and strengthened when the footsteps got closer. Hearing their giggles and whispers caused your form to tense– not having the strength to say or do anything. How would you explain your current position? How would you tell them tha-

“Mama, are you alright?”

You snapped out of your daydream to see you were in front of the stream, taking care of your personal tasks, this chore being the cleansing of garments. The query of when you arrived there was unknown, but you would assume it had been for way longer than you should have resided in that area. The dreams you would endure during the solace of night, despite those nights being anything but comforting, had begun bleeding into the day and becoming more prevalent and gruesome. It was becoming quite the distraction.

"Mama?"

Before you could allow your thoughts to consume you, you focused your attention on your son and daughter, who were awaiting your reply with innocent eyes. Yeah, their virtue never ceased to amaze you. They were too good for this world– their empathy brought light to your soul that you believed had burnt out long ago– pride and joy.

You looked at your twins with an awaiting gaze as you watched their expressions turn into excitement at the realization they had caught your attention. You blinked once before being met with a piece of parchment littered with ink. It did not take long to realize that the twins had made you something in their short time away. Blinking up at the two, you gave them a fond grin before looking back down at the material. Upon viewing the parchment, you saw an image of what you assumed to be an image of a bird, and next to the picture was a small note.

" To show gratitude to our dearest mother," you read aloud before holding the small gift to your chest, "Thank you, my loves, it is lovely."

The joy on their faces from the small compliment warmed your heart, referring to your previous statement of them being too good for this world. There were moments when you could not believe that the twins were a product of you and Sukuna– that was a reoccurring thought you had often. They were, without doubt, your most significant and last blessing as things around the temple had not been going as smoothly as they once had been the first few years you resided in it, and it was clearly starting to take a toll on everybody, including you.

"Mama, guess what we learned today?" Your son exclaimed excitedly, causing you to jump a little, not expecting the sudden outburst of enthusiasm.

"Was it penmanship because the both of you are getting better. Have you been practicing like I have told you to?" You joked, poking at their bellies, causing them to giggle.

"No, Mama, Father taught us about Jujutsu!" your daughter shouted enthusiastically.

"Hey, I wanted to tell her," the boy pouted.

"Sorry," your little girl apologized as she turned to look at her brother with an apologetic look.

The sibling tried to look upset, not wanting to give in quite yet, but when he turned around to look at his sister's guilty expression, he launched to hug her. If you had said it twice, you were to state it a third time– the world did not deserve this pair– you could not stress that enough.

"Did he now?" you breathed, your anxiety slowly creeping to the back of your neck like it did so often.

You were aware of the agreement you made with Sukuna all those years ago, and as of things so far, you both were holding up to your ends of the deal. The twins continued to be educated under your supervision and occasionally your attendant. Your little girl and boy were now at the ripe age of six, at which they would begin manifesting their cursed energy, so they were now taking lessons under their father's supervision– that notion made you apprehensive of your deal.

As you previously mentioned, things were not going as smoothly as they once were. Your village has become slightly non-compliant recently. The traditional wedding ceremonies had stopped a little over a year ago as families started refusing to hand over their kin to Sukuna. Despite the disrespect, Sukuna had no care as he had plenty of women to satisfy him; however, to say that he was taking the rebellion lightly would be a complete lie. Over the last few years, more guards were posted for precautionary reasons. Nothing major had happened yet, only the occasional distant and muffled voices chanting in protest.

With such circumstances, emotions were running high, and the crowd only seemed to get bigger as the days passed. You could admit that some days were worse than others, but it did not change the fact that these events could cause a catastrophic resolution at the hands of your husband. Viewing the situation, there was no question that Sukuna would be more occupied than usual; however, it was not amid meetings or trivial tasks but with his children instead.

Sukuna could hardly be viewed as a legitimate father but rather a mentor– a cruel one based on the round, tear-stained cheeks that would walk into the garden after they had spent their designated time with their dad. The only children who seemed the slightest bit content with their learnings were your son and daughter. Your twins have not been training for long, but they had outlasted most other kids regarding their spirits breaking. The first day your little boy and girl had left to meet with Sukuna, you could not help but feel nervous; however, when they came back, they were all giggles and smiles as they told you of their time with the man they call father. To say you were shocked was an understatement, but despite that astonishment, you were simply glad they left a good impression and walked out unscathed, their spirits still intact.

"So, have your studies with your father come to fruition yet?" You asked, not thinking of your wording as the question effortlessly slipped from your tongue.

"Come to fruition?" your son repeated, looking at his sister to see if she understood the meaning of your words.

Despite your children being clever, they were still young and naive, and that naivety could not help but make you laugh gently as you watched them whisper to each other as they tried to decipher the saying. They paused in their little hushed conversation at your breathy giggle, flustered as they looked at you, hoping you would grant them the knowledge they wanted.

"Mama, stop laughing. What does it mean?" the two whined in sync as they looked at you with awaiting eyes.

"Alright," you managed to say between your little fits of giggles, "It means to succeed in the progression of a goal. In this case, did you reach the intended goal of your lessons today?"

Your twins thought over your words for a minute before a look of realization washed over their faces. The two looked at one another to make sure the other understood, finding they were both on the same page before turning to your now-awaiting gaze. Smiles were once again plastered to their expressions of proudness.

"Not exactly," your daughter stated.

"What do you mean, 'not exactly'?" you questioned with a raised brow as you looked for an answer.

"Well...we do not have cursed energy yet, but Father said it was okay because we will..." Your son trailed off before looking at his sister for assistance, trying to remember the exact words Sukuna had used.

"Manifest!" your daughter shouted in revelation after a moment of thought.

"Oh yes, manifest! He said it was okay because 'we will manifest our cursed energy soon enough,'" your son finished, ignoring the distant whispers and tiny gasps that had suddenly emerged from the surrounding women and children.

"And you both will, I am sure of that– my intuition is never wrong," a deep voice resonated behind the twins.

You froze as you looked up to see Sukuna looking down at you, a proud grin on his face as he let the words settle. Your smile had long disappeared, your lips forming into a tight line as you met his gaze. His presence was not what had upset you as you had grown familiar with his company and unexpected visits, but rather the fact that you knew he was right.

"Father!" the twins shouted, bowing before going in to hug his legs, looking up at him with their innocent doe-like eyes that shone the color of your own hues, little flecks of what seemed to be crimson could also be seen if the light hit them just right.

Your heart stopped for a second as you watched your four-armed companion freeze on the spot at the sudden attention. Although you knew Sukuna could not lay a hand upon his children due to the contents of the pact you had made with him, it did not eliminate the uneasiness you had, worried of the thought he would grow to distaste them. The curse-user was not a man of tenderness nor liked to be presented with such fondness, especially from his offspring. There was no room for weaklings in his realm, in hid brigade of suitable heirs.

You sit there, waiting for his reaction, chewing on your lip to the point it draws a small amount of blood. The man stood stiff, looking down at the two smaller beings that clung to his legs in a warm greeting before moving to bend down, causing your heart to spike in rhythm. The questions flooded your brain once more like they often did when it involved your significant other's actions. Sukuna took a set of his arms, placing one on each twin's back before meeting their eye level.

"Did I ever indulge either of you with the story of how I found out about your mother's conceiving of the both of you?" Sukuna asked, an arched brow with a devious smile as he switched eye contact from one twin to the other.

"No," your son replied honestly, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

With that short answer, Sukuna looked at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes before redirecting his focus on his kids once more.

"I knew that your mother would one day bear the fruit of her fertility, but there was one particular evening where I could sense an odd presence. I immediately called upon your mother, and when I was met with her physique, I could tell she was with child. It would have been unnoticeable, but my perception is unlike the average man. Looking at your mother, I could see her stomach was softer and slightly rounder, her ankles somewhat swollen, and her breasts enlarged."

You held back the bile rising in your throat as your husband explained his side of the story you knew all too well, remembering the exact events that led up to that day. His vulgar description of the event sickened you to the core.

"Your mother was unaware of her condition, but I was. The moment I felt her stomach, I could feel the presence of not one but two essences in her womb. I remember the look on her face when I told her– pure shock."

Sukuna's words offended you because pure shock was an understatement. You were undeniably mortified that day, but you would never admit that to your children. For their happiness's sake, you were willing to push the bitter memories of your pregnancy aside. They did not need to know your previous disdain for them– you had not even met them yet. What they did not know could not hurt them.

"How could you sense both of our essences?" Your daughter questioned, tilting her head as Sukuna focused his attention on her.

"Always the curious one, aren't you?" Sukuna noted, a teasing grin forming on his face.

"Mama says it is always best to stay curious because you will never learn anything new if you are too stubborn or scared to keep asking questions."

"Did she now?" Sukuna's grin grew wider as he drew his attention back to you, "And what do you believe that is a lesson of?"

"Fearlessness?" your daughter answered hesitantly.

"Close, but not quite," Sukuna started, "She is teaching you confidence."

"Is that not the same thing, Father?" your daughter questioned again.

"Not exactly, my child," The curse-user paused, looking at you for a fleeting moment before continuing, "being fearless is alright in certain circumstances– something as frivolous as a mouse is something to lack fear of, but there are certain things you should fear. Fear, my child, is what keeps you alive; however, it can be crippling at times. It is the confidence to overcome those fears that lets you survive."

"Why have you come here, Sukuna?" you suddenly asked, becoming tired and uncomfortable with his lingering presence. You knew that the man had not come for idle conversation and to share invasive stories nor explain your teachings.

Had your twins been any older, they would have caught onto your passive aggression as you addressed their father, staring at him blankly as he drew his attention to you. You were aware of the line you were crossing, aware of the hostility you were presenting in the presence of your children, despite the obliviousness of it, but with high tension in the temple and his sudden visit, you felt you had every right to feel uneased. Sukuna's gaze turned from teasing mischief into a grave look.

"Well, Y/n, I wish not to sully our bonding with grave matters," the man spoke, returning your passive-aggressive tone, "we'll speak of it later."

"So why did you come, father?" Your boy asked, looking up at the tall man.

"Must I have a reason to visit my kin?" Sukuna teased.

"Well, we do not see you much outside of lessons," your daughter jumped in with her own comment.

"Observant as well, huh?" Sukuna huffed, pausing for a moment before speaking up once more, "I was wondering if you both would accompany me on a hunt?"

That question caused their little orbs to light up, their little heads turning to you, silently begging for your approval. Looking at their pleading eyes, you could not say no, giving a nod of approval. If they were cheerful before, they were exhilarated now. These kids were to be the death of you if a simple pair of puppy dog eyes could make you cave like this, and you were okay with that.

"Can Mama come too?

Your blood ran cold at the mention of your name. There was no particular reason to be troubled, but at this point, it was a habit for these tense feelings to rise whenever your name was mentioned. So, as you look at your supposed significant other, you could feel yourself about to explain how you had other activities to attend to.

"I do not see why not."

Now, that was unexpected.

The words you were going to speak paused in your throat, swallowing them down when your little boy and girl rushed up to you after hearing Sukuna's approval, hugging you as they tugged on your hands to stand. What was he playing at? Despite the inquiry of his intentions, you had to push it aside as you saw the thrilled look on your children's faces–they most likely wanted to show off what they had learned while spending time with their father. They always returned with smiles of pride after spending time with their dad. You would give up your life to see them smile at you like that for as long as you lived, so you followed them as they walked beside Sukuna despite your own apprehension.

Time slowly passed as you trekked quietly through the nearby woods, watching Sukuna's movement as he led the three of you through the brush, pausing when something caught his eye. It took only a moment for a bow to appear in his hand, but when you had expected him to use it, he motioned over to your son, giving the child the weapon. Every motherly instinct told you to confiscate the bow, but quickly reminded yourself of your pact both in regards that Sukuna was bound to protect your children from harm and that you had accepted he could use any training methods he deemed necessary– this being one of them.

Sukuna was crouched the lowest he could get, arms hovering over your boy's form, guiding his son while speaking in a low voice as the two focused on the prey ahead. Looking into the small clearing, you could see a few grazing rabbits, clueless and defenseless to the threat before them, nibbling on the dewy grass. The bow's snap and the sight of an impaled rabbit caused you to return from your light daze, turning over to see your son smiling in excitement.

"Did you see that, Mama? I did it!" the boy beamed, maintaining a hushed voice.

You gave your son a warm smile, nodding in reassurance before watching your son switch places with your daughter. The rabbits that previously remained in the clearing had run off, but one straggler emerged from bushes, unaware of what had occurred, clueless about its impaled companion. In a mere few moments, the creature suffered the same fate as the previous one, bringing joy to your little girl. She turned to you with the same smile as her brother's– it frightened you.

You had no doubt that you loved your children for who they were. You loved their innocence, passion, and joyful nature, but a realization had dawned upon you in these moments– one that made your heart drop to your stomach.

"Mama, you try!" your daughter called out, grabbing your hand as she led you toward a better spot to shoot from, that spot closer to Sukuna.

Their reason for upbringing would be to take their father's place, to be his heir, and Sukuna was not giving that role to a charitable and naive son or daughter. Things seemed pleasant for now, and your children might keep their nature through adulthood, but one thing was for sure. Whether they stayed that way or not, they would feel justified in their actions– believe what they were doing was good because that is what their father was teaching them, and you were enabling it.

"Darling, I'm not sure that it would be wise for me-"

"I think it is a marvelous idea," Sukuna interrupted, standing from his crouched position and grabbing your waist.

You felt the man's hands slither up your body, messing with the material of your clothing before touching your flesh. Your skin burned unpleasantly as his hands settled, a faux attempt to adjust your form when you were capable; however, with your twins present, you would not dare cause a stir. Looking at the clearing, there was nothing seemingly there as all the critters that previously inhabited it ran off.

"There's nothing for me to target, so maybe we should end this," you suggested, trying to excuse yourself from this activity, keeping a low tone.

"If nothing is there, why do you whisper, Little Flower?" Sukuna responded in a hushed voice, feeling his smirk form as his face rested against your cheek.

Before you could respond, the sound of fluttering was heard. Without thought, you lifted the bow's angle, shooting the arrow into the air– a thud sounded shortly after as whatever you had shot hit the ground. Looking down, you could see a bird skewered with an arrow, blood pooling from its limp body and staining the grass surrounding it.

"Mama, you did it!" the twins exclaimed, thrilled you had participated.

Their sounds of excitement were drowned out by the ringing of your ears as your gaze lingered on the deceased animal. What had you done? Yes, you had viewed death without so much as a flinch, but you were not the one with blood on your hands. You were unaware you could perform such an action– you had never held a weapon before, only a mere kitchen knife.

It disturbed you.

How did you kill the helpless creature so instinctively? So effortlessly? The worst part is...

It felt good.

The ringing eventually subsided as the bow settled to your side, turning your head toward the two-faced man you called 'husband' and handed it to him. Thankfully, Sukuna took the item with no smug remark or wicked grin, giving you one of his infamous blank looks before moving his gaze toward the kids, motioning for them in the direction of the temple, settling one of his hands at the small of your back as you all started the walk back.

Making the hike back, you settled on your earlier realization regarding your children. You would love them until the end of time, and you had no doubt about that; whether they were inherently good or bad– you would love them. But now, as you continue to think, all you can think about is the future. Where would you and your twins be standing in the years to come? What kind of life would you three indulge in if you were all to live? How many bodies would have to pile under your feet before you were guaranteed genuine safety for you and them?

For the years under the same roof as Sukuna, you had been focusing on your mother's words, the promise you had made to her.

"I promise I will survive– longer than anyone."

Your life had been summed up by that promise. So far, you have kept faithful to it because you have been surviving. From your wedding day to your pregnancy, to the many inspections you attended, all up until now, as you approached the temple, you have been surviving. You played all the right cards to get you here and made all the right sacrifices to keep your children alive– what more could you ask for? You were alive and breathing along with your children, and that is all that truly mattered, right?

No.

You may have been playing this game of survival and have been successful thus far, but there was one thing you had failed to do...

Live, you had failed to truly live.

You have played your part in your husband's sick game. You married him, gave him your purity, gave him children, and now you were done. You were more than aware of the pact you had made with your husband, but almost every contract had a loophole whether it could be seen or not.

"We are relocating."

Your heart rate accelerated as Sukuna bent down to whisper those words into your ear, the words taking a moment to register. Was it out of fear? Anger? Possibly both? No. It was excitement. You had given your word that you would never leave the temple unless it was under Sukuna's supervision and say so. Unless he accompanied you outside those gates, you would remain here; however, you had never given your word to stay by his side.

You had given your word to stay at the temple.

The curse-user had just given your confirmation of freedom without being aware he was doing so.

"May I ask why?" you dug, trying to keep your composure to not seem suspicious, as if he could tell what you were thinking if you had shown the slightest emotion.

"I have simply grown bored of this place, plus I have got what I needed from these people, and they all stand right here before me," Sukuna explained, the last part of his statement being clear that he was referring to you and the twins.

"Where would that leave my village?"

Now, that was a genuine question. You were not as concerned for your village but rather your family instead. The four-armed beast of a man was not known for leaving a town so quietly– you had heard plenty of notorious stories from survivors to prove that.

"What of it?"

"Will it remain in one piece, or will it be returned to the dirt?"

"That entirely depends on them, Little Flower."

The answer was vague– it was neither a confirmation nor a denial, but you could understand the meaning behind his words. For the sake of your family, you hoped that the village elders would not perform anything stupid. You hoped they could shove their egos aside and let Sukuna leave the town with what minimal disturbance he was willing to make. Everything you have worked so hard to achieve would be ruined without their cooperation.

Approaching the temple, you could not help but feel the delight swell in your chest. After years of this torment, this unjustified punishment, you are finally going to be free. You have survived, and now you will live. The journey has been difficult, but now you will achieve the tranquility and normalcy you deserve. Your children will have the chance to live a standard and carefree life, unlike the competitive and tiring one they would achieve with their father.

It was finally over.

Arriving at the temple did not feel as bitter this time, watching your children running to your attendant as she greeted you all, giving a respectful bow before taking off with the children, most likely heading off to eat. It was quiet as you stood in the garden; everyone else had gone to fill their appetite– it was just you and Sukuna.

"What has you smiling so brightly, Little Flower."

You had not noticed it, but you had plastered a broad, foolish grin onto your face. Usually, your partner catching this would have brought you anxiety as you thought of the right words, but you did not feel that way– quite the opposite. You were proud that he had noticed, allowing your smile to grow wider.

"I feel like a burden has been lifted off my shoulders, and I cannot wait to leave this place."

"I am glad I could bring such relieving news and bring a smile to your face," Sukuna responded, smiling down at you before taking your chin between his fingers and bending down, "Once you put the children to sleep, come seek me out as we have much more to discuss."

You could only smile stupidly, nodding and allowing Sukuna to kiss you before heading to your children. You did not care what the two-faced monster had to share with you, but you would indulge him because this would be the last time you would ever have to.

You were free.

"Oh, hello, Y/n-sama! We were just finishing our meals. Should I fix you something as well?" your attendant offered, keeping a light-hearted tone.

The young woman had grown more confident with you over the years. The two of you had grown quite close after the birth of your children– she was the only person you full-heartedly trusted with your kids. Maybe you would take her with you in your escape; she was far too good to serve ungrateful and bitter women.

"No, thank you, I am not that hungry; however, I have grown rather tired, meaning it is time for bed."

"Awwwwww," you twins whined in unison, looking at your attendant with puppy dog eyes, hoping she could convince you, only to receive a shake of her head.

The twins stood begrudgingly, approaching your awaiting stance, giving you the same desperate eyes. You gave your own silent response as you offered a warm smile and a quick shake of your head before having them follow you down the halls. In any other scenario, you would have in, but things were different now. Your children need to be well-rested for the upcoming events. You were going to give them the life they deserved.

Arriving at their sleep quarters, you slid the door open, allowing the twins in first before following. Before closing the door, you took a peek out into the hallway to make sure no one was approaching. Once you deduced nobody was coming, you slowly and quietly slid the door shut, quick to approach your kids' bedside.

"Mama, do we have to go to bed?" your daughter whined.

"Yeah, do we really have to?" your son followed.

You could not help but lightly chuckle at their resistance to sleep. Your heart filled with warmth as you remembered sharing a similar moment with your mother. There were many occasions they reminded you of yourself, and you could not wait to see more of those similarities manifest when you leave this temple. You could not wait to give them a regular and well-deserved life.

"Yes, you both have to rest. You two need to preserve your energy for the days to come."

That statement piqued their interest, their faces perking up with intrigue.

"What is to come, Mama?" the twins sounded in unison like they did so often in these moments. Sometimes, it was almost as if they shared the same mind.

"Well, soon enough, you will get to meet your grandparents," you whispered, "you cousins, aunts, and uncles, all from Mama's side of the family."

"Really?!" the two shouted, settling down when you gestured for them to lower their voices.

"Yes, but do not tell your father, it is..." you trailed, picking your words carefully, "a surprise visit just for the three of us, and I do not want him to feel left out."

There was no doubt that you despised Sukuna in every sense of the word, but you did not wish for your children to hate him. Believe it or not, you wanted your twins to paint a good picture of their father, and whether that picture remained clean was up to Sukuna himself– you would not tarnish his name for him.

"Okay, Mama, we promise we will not tell." your son spoke for the two of them, his sibling nodding in turn as she motioned to seal her lips.

You smiled, whispering a small thank you before kissing the top of their foreheads and letting them rest. You stood quietly, blowing out the candles illuminating the room before leaving. Once you stepped foot into the hallway, you were startled to see a guard, a familiar one at that, though he had clearly aged with time.

"Y/n-sama, I have been instructed to take you to your sleeping chambers," the male spoke before swiftly turning on his heel to lead you to your room.

The man's voice was cold and almost distant as he spoke to you, but his voice was familiar. You were acquainted with most of the staff within the temple, but you could not remember where you had met him in particular, though he seemed familiar and significant. Your face contorted as your mind pondered, trying to recognize his face in your personal timeline, but nothing came to mind.

"Your wedding night," the guard spoke suddenly, noticing your expression of thought, "I held and guarded the door during your wedding night."

You thought back to your wedding day, and it suddenly hit you. The guard was the same one Sukuna had forced to watch the consummation of your marriage. You quickly grew flustered at the memory, clearing your throat before speaking.

"I recall now," you responded, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Are you happy, Y/n-sama?" another unshakable tone as he questioned you.

Why was he asking this?

"Yes, I'm happy."

You did not know what this man was playing at, but you did not want to fall into any traps, so you gave the preferred answer when this question was presented to you on many occasions.

"Even though you have suffered all these years, bearing and raising his offspring?"

"Excuse me?" you grimaced at the guard's words.

"Nothing, I am sorry, I have overstepped my boundaries. I will leave you now," the man uttered, leaving you at the doorway to your sleeping quarters.

You narrowed your eyes, staring as the male's figure grew smaller in the distance. What did he gain from that interaction? No matter– it was no longer your problem to deal with. Collecting yourself, you entered the room and immediately faced Sukuna.

"Come and close the door. We must speak of these urgent matters in private," Sukuna muttered as he blankly stared at the wall in front of him.

You did not question the man and slid the door closed, approaching him as he turned to you. Before you could speak, Sukuna placed a pair of hands on your shoulders, looking into your eyes. His gaze held no emotion you could directly name, but you could sense an urgency in his tone as he spoke to you.

"We leave tonight. The others have been informed and are gathering their belongings– I advise you to do the same."

"What?! Now?! Sukuna, what is going on that you are not telling anyone?" you urged, staring at him with wide eyes.

"Now is no time to be questioning me, Y/n. Hurry, we are leaving shortly."

"No."

The word slipped out without thought. You did not care when you left because your plans would not change, but your partner was acting strangely, and you could not help but be curious as to why. The curiosity is what led you to stand there motionless as your husband stared you down.

"Stubborn as always, I see," the curse-user muttered, "Fine, you want to know, huh? We made a pact, and I'm upholding the bargain. You told me to protect those children, right? Well, for their interest, we are leaving, so be grateful."

You stood there silently, looking into Sukana's unwavering gaze.

"What is going on?" you repeated the question.

"Your village plans to lay siege, and we are leaving to not get caught in the firing radius."

That explained the tensity and whispers among the temple. That explained the extra protection. Everything now made sense and you could not help the feeling of something rising up your throat.

Laughter.

You laughed uncontrollably, trying to cover your mouth to muffle the outburst, but to no avail. Nothing about the situation was logically funny, but you could not control yourself.

"After years of torment, they only now decide to lay siege?" you cackled, "And the best part is that Ryomen Sukuna is fleeing with his tail between his legs."

You should have seen what was to come next when you made that last statement, feeling your hair being tugged to look up at the man you had insulted. Your laugh quickly subsided, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stared into his orbs. You had crossed a line this time, but for once, you were not scared of the intimidation; however, what had shocked you was Sukuna smashing his lips against yours.

"I am the most feared man in Japan– I have no reason to be scared, at least for myself. I am doing this for us and our creation because I love you, Little Flower."

"You do not love me. You love what I can do for you, Sukuna."

"I see where our children have gotten their observance." Sukuna joked, "But you are not entirely wrong. However, that does not change the fact we are leaving right here and now so collec-"

"AHHHHHHHHHHH"

The deformed man paused mid-sentence at the high-pitched scream, storming out of the room to see the commotion. You wasted no time in following him, walking down the hall before being met with the stench of blood. Had one of the pregnant wives gone into labor? Was someone injured? Or was...

Before you could finish that last thought, you were met with the sight of a lifeless body surrounded by its own red fluid. It was disturbingly familiar, and that was because it was the body of the guard that had escorted you earlier. You were shocked at his mangled state, his face just barely beyond recognition, but before you could allow the shock to settle in, another sound of screams was heard in the opposite direction.

Without thought, you bolted in the direction the screams came from. You flew past those blank walls faster than you knew you were capable of before landing at the sight of another body surrounded by women. It was your attendant, her face frozen in fear, her body almost in the same state as the previous one. This death hit you harder than the earlier one as you covered your mouth, keeping the bile from rising up your throat.

Despite the grief and sickness you were feeling, you could only think of one thing, and that was your twins. You lingered for a second longer before running to your twin's bedroom. You had not noticed, but Sukuna trailed behind you closely as you sprinted through the temple. Your breath was running ragged, but you would be damned if you were to leave your twins behind in this gruesome mess.

You made it to the door, sliding it open and rushing in, your eyes scanning the room for your twins, but they were nowhere to be seen. Your heart hammered against her chest as you began to panic, turning to Sukuna to see that his face was once again blank as he looked into the room from the doorway. Why did he have that look on his face? It did not matter– you had to search for your children. You turned to look back into the interior room, looking up from the bedrolls to be met with the wall, and heard the sound of a scream once again, your heart dropping.

You had found your twins hanging from the wall, a message written above them that was written in their own blood.

"Bring back our daughter."

Taglist:

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya @pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident @alurafairy @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty @gojosluts7789@all4koo@hyperfixationsporfavor

[dhampling]

leeches girl!dadstarion, <1k

“What if I were… a leech?” His steady hands continue to work through her hair as his eyes roll briefly into his skull. “Would you like me to elaborate all the ways in which you already are, my treasure?”  - astarion and his daughter have a spat. idk what to tell you. this is pure fluff. wc: 540

-

“I would pick you again in a heartbeat if I had one, darling. I would. Really.”

Astarion is droll as he quips; jacquard ribbon between his teeth. She bares her fangs at him in a baby snarl.

“What if I were… a leech?”

His steady hands continue to work through her hair as his eyes roll briefly into his skull.

“Would you like me to elaborate all the ways in which you already are, my treasure?” 

She cries out almost immediately in a nauseatingly telltale screech from where she sits cross-legged on the rug, yelling for you repeatedly in perhaps the most grating tone you’ve ever heard in your whole entire sorry life. Astarion continues to braid her hair with a measured mental detachment. You swear you hear him humming.

You make sure to let out a low-strung beleaguered groan as you approach the living room.

“Okay! I heard you. I do hear you. What can I do for you?”

Your daughter - wholly unconvincingly - wobbles her bottom lip as her brows knit together.

“Daddy called me a leech, mummy.”

“I would never do that.” He clicks his tongue in a muted mock horror. Continues to braid her hair with a genuine perfection you could never manage like his tailor’s hands can.

She launches into a wordy barrage of accusations against Astarion, favourites including ‘completely horrible fabricator’ and a ‘ghastly teller of lies.

“Daddy.’

You’re sharp in tone. His head whips to you.

 ‘Did you call her a leech?” You ask flatly. 

“No.”

“Did you imply she’s a leech?”

He stifles a smile. This time, your eyes roll into your skull.

“I - as I’ve stated - would never do that.”

“Yes, but unfortunately, you absolutely would.’ 

He looks at you with the grin of a charlatan.

‘We don’t tell lies do we, Daddy?”

“I’m not lying. She called herself a leech.” 

She starts screeching in rebuttal, pulling away from Astarion in aggressive shakes as he tethers her gently by her (admittedly immaculate) plaits.

“You are both absolutely as bad as each other.’

This - for some completely unknown and far-distant reason - doesn’t stop the absolute caterwaul assaulting your every sense.

‘Daddy. Say sorry now.”

Your eyes are aflame. The treacle weight of a headache stirs above your brow.

Astarion looks back to you briefly, and his smarmy self-satisfied smirk falls as quick as it appeared. 

Your teeth clench with enough force to remove a finger and his gaze drops to her.

“My darling girl. I am sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

She stands in a pointed uncertainty as he leans forward and cups her now forward face in his large hands.

‘I’d consider myself a leech, honestly. Freaky little things.’

He waggles his fingers next to her cheeks, a genuine smile now as she flinches into laughter.

‘Daddy leech and Daughter leech, hm?'

A quick giggle.

'Shall we go biting?”

Their eyes meet for a brief second and then fall on you, standing in the doorway with hands on hips in exasperation.

It takes you a second to catch on.

Astarion is up and wrangling you onto the lounge before you can act, your stream of stuttered pleas ignored as your daughter and he descend on you in playbites; collapsing in fits of laughter.

[euesworld]

"Why would I put out the fire in my heart? Each sweet beat softly aflame with your name.."

Imagine.. just hearing your name arises passion within me, imagine what seeing you smile does - eUë

[reiderwriter]

Hi, can I request a smut fic about Spencer being a sub and desperately begging the reader to dominate him and how it turns out please ?

I love your writing 🥹

A/N: I feel like I'm not good at writing Sub! Spencer but I certainly did give it a go 😅 let me know what you think in the comments or the ask box!

W/C: 1.7k

Warnings: sub!Spencer, Dom!Reader, mommy kink, slight bondage, orgasm control, use of sex toys (M and F), I don't think there's anything else???

You’d noticed the look on his face earlier in the day, but you hadn’t quite worked up the courage to ask him what it meant. Despite being a BAU Profiler, the man couldn’t stop himself from displaying his desire clearly on his face. There was something Dr Spencer Reid wanted, badly, and even without a fancy FBI job you knew that.

You let him come to you first, though, a little bit intrigued about how long it would take him to break. He’d been silent as he stared at you over dinner, making small talk, sure, but not sharing his actual thoughts. The car ride home had been similarly devoid of his usual “Reid”isms, but you could feel his eyes on you from his place in the passenger seat, raking over you shyly. When you got into the apartment, you thought he was finally going to break.

“Y/N…?”

“Yeah, Spence? What is it?” you smiled at him, ready to hear what had been on his mind the entire time.

“Actually, no…no it’s nothing.” He turned to move towards the bathroom, but you cut him off before he reached it.

“It’s not nothing, you’ve been acting weird all night, is there something wrong?”

He hesitated for a second, before pulling your hand into his. Reaching down, he planted a small chaste kiss on your lips, then tried to pull away quickly, but you laced your hands through his hair and pulled him back down to you, not letting him go until you were satisfied.

“Can we… Can we try something new?” he asked, and your heart rate increased as he trailed his hands hesitantly down to your hips.

“What were you thinking, Spencer?” your voice was lower now than it had been a few moments ago, barely a whisper, but the lacking space between the two of you more than made up for it.

“Can you…I don’t really know how I’m supposed to say it,” he frowned, looking down at you with that puppy dog expression that you’d fallen for.

“Tell me with your words Spencer, you can do it.”

“Can you… take charge tonight?” The blush on his face was pronounced, his entire body aflame with the question he’d just asked. You felt yourself growing excited at the prospect, hoping that he was absolutely insinuating what you thought he was.

“What do you mean by that, baby? You want me to take charge how?” You smiled through the questions, trying to set him at ease so he wouldn’t clam up again. You ran a distracting hand through the hair at the base of his neck and waited for him to respond.

“Please can you….I want you to-”

“No wants, Spencer. What do you need?” you asked, smiling innocently up at him.

“Please, I need you to dominate me.” Hearing the words that you’d suspected for the last few minutes had your heartbeat racing faster. You knew Spencer didn’t like to give up control often, but he’d been thinking about this all day, and you weren’t going to say no to him now that he’d asked you so nicely.

Moving your hand down from his hair to his tie, you yanked him down sharply so you were eye to eye, and he let out a shuddery breath.

“We’re going to use the traffic light system, okay baby? Red means you want to stop, orange, you need a break or you’re reaching your limit, green, you’re okay. Do you understand?” He nodded in response so you pulled him a little closer, not letting his lips meet you in the way that they wanted to.

“I need to hear your voice, baby, do you understand?”

“Y-yes, Y/N.”

“Yes, mommy,” you insisted, and you watched as his adams apple bobbed with his swallow.

“Yes, mommy.”

“Good boy,” you smiled at him, before pulling him roughly into the bedroom by his tie. Looking down, you saw that he was already rock hard in his pants, his hand sneaking down between the two of you to palm himself, desperate for friction of any kind.

"What color, baby?"

"Green." You nodded and turned your gaze back down to his pants.

“Stop that right now. Did I give you permission to touch yourself, Spencer?” He whipped his hand away immediately, holding them both up like he was surrendering himself.

“No, mommy. I’m sorry.” You pushed him to the bed as he responded, and he let out a small gasp as he landed.

“Here’s how it’s going to go, baby. You’re going to sit there and watch mommy get herself off, and you’re not going to help or touch me or touch yourself. Just watching. And if you’re a good boy, then I’ll give you a special reward. Okay?”

“Yes, mommy.” He moaned out shakily. You pull down his pants, taking care to avoid making direct contact with his cock, letting it free itself from it’s prison without your interference or his, already wet with his precum.

“My-my, you’ve been thinking about this all night, right? My pervereted little baby.” You giggled at him, stroking your hands up and down his legs without getting close enough to give him pleasure. You pushed away for him and moved towards the top drawer of the nightstand on your side of the bed. Right where you left it sat a small bullet vibrator, shiny and pink and fully charged.

Walking to the reading chair opposite the bed, you spread your legs, watching his cock twitch as he took in the sight of your panty-clad cunt. Your skirt was hiked up around your waist as you pressed a button and let the vibrator buzz to life. You wanted to give him a show, and boy did you. You heard each and every one of his whimpers as you trailed the small little pellet down your body from your nipples to the tops of your thights all the way back up to your sopping pussy.

You let out a moan as it made contact, playing up the pleasure to torture the man in front of you. His hands were balled tightly into the sheets splayed around him, his jaw tense as he tried his best not to touch himself to your pleasure.

Pulling the top of your dress down, you let his eyes rake over the hard stiff peaks of your chest, watching as his breaths grew more and more shallow.

“Look how good mommy is making herself feel, baby. Can you see it?” you asked him, desperate to see if he would break or not.

“Mommy, please. Please let me…” he whimpered out, cock twitching again as he shifted slightly in his seat.

“Not a chance, Spencer.” You moaned then, letting your tongue fall out of your mouth a little before pulling the bullet up to your lips and sucking on the end of it slightly.

"Color?"

“G-Green. Please, please, just touch me, please,” he moaned from his seat, eyes not leaving your lips.

“You can touch yourself if you want baby, but there are consequences for not listening to your mommy, remember,” you sang at him, growing wetter and wetter at his heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry, mommy.” He said, grabbing the base of his cock and beginning to pump himself while looking at you.

You frowned as his eyes screwed shut in pleasure, finally getting some relief. Picking yourself up, you made your way to the bed and removed his hand from himself before grabbing him by the throat.

“You wanted to be punished, baby?” You asked, squeezing down gently on his neck as he tried to thrust his cock into your hip, desperate to close the distance between the two of you. He whimpered as you tightened your grip.

"Color?"

"Green," he moaned and you bloomed at the sound.

“Open your mouth,” you said, and he quickly obeyed. You spat in his mouth, and he dutifully swallowed it, hips rutting like crazy desperate for your touch.

The vibrator still in your hand, you decided that both of you could have some fun with it that day.

“Hands on the headboard, now. I don’t want to see them move at all, am I clear?” you said, voice firm. He moaned his agreement and you set the vibrator off once again. Being careful not to let any of your bare skin touch his, you bought the vibrator closer and closer to his aching cock. You’d barely ghosted over the tip when he started madly moaning, not bothering to hide his pleasure anymore, too lost in the feeling of it all.

You traced ghosting circles over his slit, and you physically saw him shudder and grow somehow harder.

“That’s it, good boy. Just relax for mommy, okay?” He doesn’t even respond to you this time, eyes screwed shut as if he were so desperate to experience that touch that he was willing to block out his every other sense.

You finally let the vibrator fall deep onto the tip of his dick, and he doesn’t last more than thirty seconds before coming with a loud moan.

“Mommy, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t…” he gasps out with every new splash of cum that coats his chest. You’re sick of the noise coming from his mouth though, so, scooping up some of his own cum in your fingers, you press two to his lips as he moans another apology, and his eyes blow wide.

“Clean me up, baby, now.” He gets to work, licking him own cum off of you as you sit between his legs on the bed, breasts on perfect display for him the tntire time. Everytime you feel him finish licking up his cum, you scoop another mouthful of it into his mouth until there’s almost no sign of it at all.

“Next time you cum without mommy’s permission, you’re not going to get to cum at all, okay baby?” You ask, and he nods, a fucked out expression on his face telling you that he’d agree to anything you could possibly say in that moment.

You were growing to like this suggestion more and more…

[solomoniscriminallyunderrated]

Lucifer is suspicious of you.

Of those butterflies you tell him you get when Mammon is next to you, of the smile that your face melts into when you realize that he's watching you.

He has seen it before, he thinks. You looking at Mammon like you look at him. He knows what that look is, and the idea that he might have misread you makes him sick.

And then, of course, the thought that you could ever have the ability to deceive him in the first place is preposterous. You would not dare.

And he is right. You would not dare. The way Lucifer has you hooked around his fingers is enough to make anyone with any common sense wary.

But you? You have no common sense. And your sense of self-preservation has been warped since you fell through the portal and ended up here, in Devildom. You don't understand what he's capable of, not really, and you find yourself wanting to test it.

The fact that the demon who is always on your mind is Mammon? The brother he is the closest to? The brother he is the most protective over? That doesn't make the idea any less alluring.

That is why, one night, after a day of hanging out with the Avatar of Greed, you are back in your room, and you text Lucifer.

'Can I come over?'

You know that he will let you in.

'What is it, MC?' he asks. He sounds tired. But he lets you in nonetheless, and you're sure he's got an idea of what's going on.

"I have to confess something," you say, sitting down on his bed. He takes a seat next to you, and the way his eyes shine in the light makes your breath catch in your throat.

"Oh?"

"I think," you say, voice barely above a whisper, "that I have a crush on Mammon."

You hear the sound of his hands clenching into fists, and a dark chuckle from his mouth.

"A crush, hm?"

"I feel awful for it," you continue, leaning in, your hands gripping the sheets.

"Oh, but you do?" He moves closer as well, and the heat between your bodies is palpable.

"It's like my heart belongs to you, but my head belongs to him." You look away, feeling your face heat up. "And it's not fair."

"You're a selfish human, aren't you, MC?"

He lifts your chin with his gloved hand, and your eyes meet. His expression is a mixture of disgust and amusement, and it's making your insides stir.

"I... I guess I am," you murmur. "Is it wrong to want to be happy?"

"Oh, you poor little thing," he snarls. "Did you really think it was the right choice to confess this to me?"

You should have known he would react like that. After all, he's the Avatar of Pride. The last thing he would want to do is to share you.

"No," you say, biting your lip. "I didn't. I just wanted to see how you would react."

He chuckles again, and the sound makes your hairs stand on end.

"Oh, my dear. You do not want to play these games with me."

"What if I want to, though?"

"You wouldn't."

"Maybe I will."

Lucifer laughs, and it's a low, deep, dark sound that echoes throughout the room.

"You don't know what you're getting into, little human. Are you sure this is what you want?"

His eyes glow, and a smirk is present on his lips.

"Yes."

"Then you're an even bigger fool than I thought you were."

Your heartbeat quickens. You don't know why, but the threat in his voice is making you feel things you can't explain.

"I'm willing to take the risk."

Lucifer's hands are on your face, and he's looking at you with an intensity that's hard to describe.

"You'll regret this."

"I won't."

You're not sure where this sudden burst of confidence has come from, but you're thankful for it. It's the only thing that keeps you from running out of the room screaming.

He leans in closer, and your lips are almost touching.

"Let me be the one to teach you a lesson, then," he whispers.

And the kiss is a mix of fire and ice. His lips are cold against yours, but his hands are burning as they roam across your body, setting every part of you aflame.

"You are mine," he growls.

He's got you pinned against the bed, his hands gripping your wrists tightly. His claws are digging into your skin, and his eyes are glowing.

"Say it."

"I'm yours."

You're panting, and you can't tell whether it's because of his kisses or because of his possessiveness.

"Do you love him?"

The question catches you off guard. You've never heard him ask a question like that.

"No," you say, voice trembling. "Not in the same way I love you."

You see his lips curl into a smile.

"Good."

The rest of the night passes in a blur. You don't remember much, only his hands all over you, his kisses leaving marks all over your skin, his words whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

You wake up the next morning with him still sleeping beside you, and you can't help but smile.

[alyyybrooke]

allure

camila montes x fem!reader

horror movie date with Camila

Warnings: little bit of gore, making out

Word Count: 1.5k

A knock at the door startled you. You put down your mascara wand and double checked yourself in the mirror. Perfect. Your hair cascaded in loose curls over your chosen outfit: A crop top and some baggy jeans. It was cute and casual.

"Coming!" you called to the door and rushed to answer it.

You swung open the door and blushed at the sight of her. She had a navy blue crewneck over a white tee, accompanied with baggy jeans. Her fuschia streaks shone brightly against her brunette hair. In her hand was a beautiful bouquet of red carnations, your favorite flower.

"Didn't expect you to be such a romantic, Camila," you smirked, taking the flowers.

"Yeah well...gotta woo you somehow. You look super hot by the way." You flushed at her compliment, heat rushing to your face.

"Says you," you replied with a smile.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah one sec, lemme just grab my wallet."

When you returned, Camila grabbed your hand and led you to her car, where she opened the door for you.

"Such a gentleman," you teased. She rolled her eyes playfully and got into the driver's seat. As she started the engine she noticed your lack of a jacket.

"Aren't you gonna be cold?" she asked worriedly. You loved how much she cared for you. Even just simple things like this.

"Well luckily chivalry apparently isn't dead, so I can just wear yours," you said happily, poking her cheek in delight.

She laughed and shook her head, then started the drive to the movie theater. You had begrudgingly agreed on a horror movie for your second date, though it took a lot of convincing on Camila's part. You didn't even know what it was called, since frankly, you didn't care. All you wanted was to spend time with Camila. If that meant watching people get brutally murdered on a huge screen, so be it.

Upon arrival she opened the door for you once again, taking your hand as you walked out.

"Okay, Casanova, let's go."

She put her arm around you and kissed your cheek.

"You smell good," she mumbled. Once more, she made you blush.

You two bought your tickets and popcorn and went to find your seats. Previews for other movies were already playing, and you started to get a little nervous. Even the trailers were a little frightening.

"Cami, I'm scared," you sighed, not missing her little smile at the nickname.

"Don't worry baby, I'll protect you." She winked and dragged you down into your seat.

"Ugh I never should have agreed to this."

You grumpily munched on popcorn as the movie began. And right you were, you never should have agreed to this. Within the first thirty minutes, an eye was stabbed and an arm was twisted and ripped off. You yelped and jumped with every new kill. Camila was enjoying this thoroughly, giggling whenever you got scared.

"You wanna come sit with me?" she asked playfully, wiggling her eyebrows.

You quickly nodded and slipped into the little empty space beside her, your leg resting on top of hers. She snaked her arms around your waist and kissed your shoulder. Her affections made your heartbeat rise, and the warmth of her kisses lit your body aflame. Soon enough another character was butchered, the woman's throat getting slit open. You jumped in Camila's arms, and she pulled you closer to her, trying to ease your worries.

"Relax. I'm here," she whispered in your ear. Though she loved to tease you, sometimes you forget how sweet Camila could be.

Throughout the whole movie, you only melted closer into Camila's embrace. By the end of the film, you were completely on top of her, your back facing the screen. Only when it finally ended, you pulled away. The lights came back on, and the other people in the theater began to file out.

You noticed Camila's raised eyebrows, and yours furrowed in confusion. She glanced down at your lap and you realized the compromising position you were in. Your legs were straddling her lap, and her hands still haven't left your waist. Clearing your throat nervously, you rapidly removed yourself from her body.

When you left the theater an immediate chill ran up your spine. Camila noticed and began to remove her sweatshirt, shaking her head in amusement. The garment was soft and warm, and smelled just like her. You snuggled into it, causing another smirk to spread across Camila's face.

"So...did you like the movie?" she asked playfully.

"Yep. So good," you grumbled sarcastically, tugging her closer when you remembered the morbid gore of the movie. "Did you like it?"

"Yeah it was alright, but I've seen better," she replied. "I did enjoy having you on my lap though," she added.

Heat rose in your cheeks once more. Camila was gonna be the death of you if she kept shamelessly flirting like this. You giggled and leaned up, pressing your lips to her cheek. (ik jenna's like 5'1 but camila gives tall vibes so jus roll w it if ur taller than her)

You two just slowly walked back to the car, enjoying the company of each other and the playful banter. You've only known Camila for a few months, but you already feel like you've known her forever. She made you feel safe, and happy. People warned you about her, saying that she'd only date you for a fuck, then leave you high and dry. But they were all wrong. Camila was sweet and effortlessly funny, and it was clear that she cared about you.

As she drove you home, you talked and talked, laughing at all her jokes. The horrible images of the movie quickly washed away, Camila easing away all of the fear. Her hand found its way to yours, the other firmly gripped on the steering wheel. Something so simple as this was insanely attractive. Everything about her was so enticing. Her hair, her style, her effortless confidence. She was a drug and you were willingly addicted.

"See something you like?" Her voice broke you from your trance. The smug grin was back. You quickly averted your eyes, trying to focus on something other than the girl beside you. She chuckled and squeezed your hand softly. "It's okay. You know I don't mind."

She pulled up to your house and stopped the car at the curb. The date had reached its end. But, you didn't want it to. You wanted to stay with her, go wherever, it really didn't matter. You just wanted, needed to be with her.

"Do you want me to walk you?" she asked, curious as to why you haven't opened the door yet.

You met her gaze and swallowed nervously. Unintentionally, you quickly glanced at her lips. You unconsciously bit your lip, ideas of kissing her flooding your brain. You tried to ignore them, tried to push them away, it was only your second date after all, but the thoughts stubbornly stayed put. You gulped nervously and shook yourself from the enchanting spell she had you under.

"No, I'm okay." You smiled and leaned over the console, kissing her cheek once more. "This was fun, but next time I'm picking the date."

You opened the car door and began to step out, but her hand on your wrist stopped you. She yanked you back into the seat and leaned into you. Her hot breath fanned over your face, her eyes completely locked on your lips. She stopped right before they touched, and your breath hitched at the close proximity.

"Can I kiss you baby?" she husked.

Any and all rational thoughts flew out the window. You nodded fervently and she firmly pressed her lips against yours. You sighed in pleasure at the awaited contact.

She pulled away in hesitation, silently asking if you wanted to take it further. You wordlessly climbed over her lap, and straddled her, aggressively kissing her once more. Her tongue expertly traced your bottom lip, before softly entering your mouth. Your tongue sensually grazed hers, and you moaned quietly at her touch. Her hands gripped your waist tightly, one sliding up to tug your hair. Her lips moved to your neck, and you tilted your head to give her more access. The pleasure was intoxicating, groans of enjoyment escaping your lips.

"Eres tan hermosa, mi amor," she mumbled against your neck.

Her hands liften your shirt and slid underneath, rubbing your back and moving towards your bra. You tensed at the movement and pulled away from her lips.

"Uhm, Cami? I'm loving this right now, but I don't think I'm ready for sex yet," you said softly, avoiding her eyes.

She grabbed your chin with her fingers and forced you to look at her. Her thumb traced circles over your cheek.

"Hey, it's okay. I won't pressure you into anything," she said earnestly.

You mentally swooned. Everyone was so wrong about her. You rested your forehead against hers and pecked her lips.

"Do you wanna stay the night?" you asked softly, your eyes never leaving hers.

She smiled and laughed, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you close. She kissed your cheek and you melted into her.

"I'd love to."

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlight!

"You came?" "You called."

Danny in trouble, Duke to the rescue! (Or it can be reversed!) Maybe they've been online friends or met in person once and bonded over both having all these unexpected powers. Slightly angst.

There was never a point when Danny thought he would need the panic button Duke gave him.

It was a sweet gesture, a way for Duke to show that he cared for Danny and wanted him to be safe. Never mind that Danny can take care of himself, heals quickly from most wounds, and has been the protector, not the protected, ever since the Accident. If it makes Duke feel better, than Danny was more than happy to keep it on him as a token of affection.

The cultists, however, caught him off guard. 

Danny would be embarrassed about being nabbed off the streets so easily if the people who took him weren’t cultists lead by the daughter of a GIW agent, one who disapproved of the scientific approach the GIW took towards ectoplasmic entities and had turned to mystic arts as a way to defy her father. Which, usually, Danny would be all for striking out against the strict expectations of parents and their unwillingness to listen to their kids in any serious manner, but not this time. Not when it ends with him slowly waking up after they chloroformed him, curled up in some magic circle, surrounded by black candles and blue flame, and something in the air that smells of blood blossoms.

There are voices speaking, but he can’t make out what they’re saying over the pounding in his head, his heartbeat stuttering in his chest with each gasping breath he takes. 

Whatever they’re doing, whatever’s got him bound in the circle, makes his blood feel like its been lit aflame, agony coursing through his veins. He tries to grit his teeth and bare it, but it doesn’t become any more manageable.

No, it gets worse the longer he’s awake.

Danny tries to move, tries to get to his feet, but all he can do is curl up tighter, a sob forcing its way out of his throat.

“I know you’ve got some connection to Phantom,” he hears someone say, both by his ear and so far away he can barely make out the words. Danny whines, trying to insist that they’re wrong, he’s got nothing to do with phantom, but the voice continues. “Come on, cooperate with us and this will end sooner for you. You can’t lie about this; you wouldn’t be feeling anything if there was no connection.” 

A hand brushes against his forehead, burning hot, and Danny turns his face towards the ground trying to move away from it. 

“I knew ghosts had to have some tie to the living world. And a living anchor would make the ghost stronger… If only dad would listen to me.” The voice sighs, and the words help him put the pieces together and realize this is the daughter of the GIW agent that came closest to finding him when he first ran to Gotham. 

It’s been close to a year since then. He thought they’d stopped looking. 

Really, he should have known better.

The hand leaves his forehead and he hears the leader bark out an order. Voices surround him, chanting, as they rise out of the dark. 

A red glow begins to fall on everything, enough that Danny can see it through his barely open eyes. A shudder runs through him, and he feels his transformation try to begin.

NO, he thinks desperately. He tries to force it down but it fights against him. It’s agony, pain on a molecular level, the feeling of dying over and over and over again.

NO, he thinks, STOP I DON’T WANT TO DIE SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME.

And then, unbidden, a single word rising in his mind. Duke.

Duke will help him if he knows Danny needs help. Duke has been kind and welcoming and helped Danny find his footing in Gotham, never judging and always quietly offering a hand in support. He’s the person Danny’s closest to in Gotham, someone dear to him, a light in the dark. 

He gave Danny a panic button.

Contrary to popular thought, Danny isn’t an idiot. He knows Duke is the Signal. A few too many incidents where Duke had disappeared and the Signal appeared to save him tipped him off. It didn’t help that Duke acted the same in and out of costume, and he always, always grabbed Danny first at the elbow, then slid his hand down to his wrist. 

Besides, who else gives panic buttons to their friends? Danny would have done the same to Sam and Tucker if they weren’t always attached at the hip. He’s a (former) teenage vigilante too, he knows how being involved in this kind of thing invites trouble into the rest of his life.

Duke can help him. He’s a hero. He’s saved Danny before.

He’s his friend. Danny trusts (wants to trust, so badly) that Duke will help him even when he’s not fully human, fully alive.

With trembling hands, he reaches into his jacket, to the panic button. It’s a simple necklace with an unassuming metal rectangle dangling off of it. It’s flat and thin, but the top gives way to a button that Danny clicks three times in quick succession. 

He waits a moment, trying to breathe through the pain, and clicks it three times again.

Please hurry, Duke, he thinks, hand falling limply to the ground. 

“Let’s try this, instead,” the leader says, and the chanting falls to a quiet murmur to give way to her voice as she begins reciting something.

It starts at his feet. They cramp up suddenly, then pain crackles up his bones like lightning, digging deep into him. It feels as if a thousand knives dig into his abdomen, cutting in deep and twisting.

Danny chokes on his breath, then screams, trying futilely to scramble away. All it does is make him writhe on the ground, back arching enough that he can feel the strain of it on his spine, but it doesn’t matter because he’s forcing down his transformation again, smothering Phantom as much as he can.

His breath mists out before him. His fingers go numb, frost spreading across the floor.

Tears slip down his face as Danny pants for breath.

It hurts. It hurts like nothing has ever hurt before, but he refuses to give in. If they find out he’s Phantom, they’ll only do worse. 

Please, he thinks again, deliriously.

As if hearing him, a window shatters above him and the cultists break off in screams. 

Forcing his eyes open, Danny squints through he tears and watches as the shadows around them rise up, roiling, and crash against the cultists. The force of it knocks them down, leaving them to claw desperately at their faces as the shadows cover their nose and mouths, cutting off their air. The leader is yelling, rage clear in her voice, shooting out magic spells at the Signal.

The Signal is usually a friendly figure. He’s safe, something whose meer presence makes people feel safe. His smile means everything’s alright and when it’s directed to Danny, he feels like nothing bad can ever happen to him again.

The Signal isn’t smiling now. 

He’s furious, expressionless and stone cold, bashing away the spells with shadows or light, advancing on the leader like an avenging angel come to deliver justice. 

He takes her out with hard hits, striking methodically. It’s not quick. She doesn’t get the kindness of being knocked out; no, he snaps a wrist, breaks her nose, slams her down on the ground and cuts off her air with a knee until her struggles die off and she’s left limp on the floor. 

When he rises, surrounded by shadows still moving restlessly, illuminated only by the flicker blue flames of the candles, he should look terrifying. 

All Danny feels is relief so sharp it worries him that his chest was cleaved in half without him noticing until now. He shivers against the floor, too weak to reach out to the Signal.

It’s a good thing he doesn’t have to. 

The Signal picks him up with careful hands, checking him over for injuries.

“Duke,” Danny murmurs, slurring a bit. The torture is definitely at fault for it, but the sudden absence of all that pain doesn’t help him sound any more coherent. “You came.”

“You called,” Duke says, “Of course I came. I’ve been looking for you for hours. You never showed up for our study date and I know you always try to reach out if you can’t make it. I’m just sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”

“S’okay, ‘m not mad. Was scared, but you made it better. The panic button…”

“It’s how I found you. I’m so glad you were wearing it today.”

Danny tries to smile, but the most he can manage is a twitch of his lips before his head tips forward to rest against Duke’s armored shoulder. “I always wear it.”

Duke’s grip on him tightens for a moment, then he begins walking, taking Danny away from the magic circles and the prone bodies of the cultists who had watched him be tortured and decided to keep going. Danny shudders again, his entire body aching. His transformation is still fighting to come out, but it’s not as strong anymore. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Duke says into his ear. “I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“No! No hospitals, please. I can’t let them know… they’ll find me…”

Duke shushes him soothingly, tucking him more securely against his chest. “Alright, Danny. No hospitals. But I am going to call Batman for a pick up to get you to one of the people we trust for medical care.”

“But Batman doesn’t work in the day.” Danny’s too exhausted to sound confused, but it must go through anyways. Duke laughs lowly, and the sound helps unwind the last of his nerves coiled up tight in fear. 

“Danny, it’s well into the night. You were gone for hours. Longest hours of my life.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, 

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault. Hang on, Batman’s nearly here.”

In any other circumstance, Danny would be excited to meet another hero. Especially Batman, one of the original heroes of the modern age. But all he wants is to go somewhere safe so he can curl up and cry, then sleep for three days before he pretends to be a normal human again. Ideally, he’d stay with Duke until he felt safe again, but he doesn’t want to take Duke away from the city that needs him.

His ears perk up a bit when he hears the smooth rumble of an engine stop in front of them. A door opens with a click without Duke needing to grab the handle, and then Danny is carefully being deposited in the back seat.

“Wait,” he says, trying to grab for Duke’s arm only to have his fingers fumble and grab nothing. Duke doesn’t move away, though, and instead grabs Danny’s seeking hand. “Stay? Please? I just—” his voice shudders, cracks, fractures apart. “I just want to feel safe.”

There’s a pause, a stillness in the air, before Duke says, “Okay. I’ll stay.” And then he’s sliding into the backseat, pulling Danny in to lean against him, curl into his embrace.

“Signal,” Batman’s low, gravelly voice says. There’s something in his tone that makes Danny tense up, prepared to take off, and his transformation pushes at his skin, ready to come out.

“He knows who I am, B,” Duke replies. “He’s trustworthy. Besides, just because he knows me doesn’t mean he knows you.”

“We will be discussing this later,” Batman says, dark promise in his voice. It’s just how he talks, Danny’s sure, too used to years of making himself the scariest thing in the dark. That doesn’t change the fact that Batman can be terrifying, and Danny can’t imagine he’ll take kindly to the fact that Danny knows Duke’s identity.

Fear slithers up his spine, and he can’t stop the transformation this time. The rings of white light flash over his body in a second, leaving Phantom in his place. 

Danny lets go of his legs first, glad to be free from their aching weight, and without a body made of flesh and bone, the hurt begins to fade away until it’s just an unpleasant memory. 

“What—” Duke starts to say just as Batman says, “Signal—”

They must have some sort of silent exchange. There’s only a heavy tension in the car and the barely audible rumble of the engine as they drive towards their destination, whatever it may be. Danny sinks into Duke some more, sighing in relief as a hand comes up to card through his wispy white hair. 

“Danny,” Duke says, “What’s this?”

“It’s why they hurt me,” he mumbles against Duke’s chest. “It’s why they keep hunting me down. I want them to leave me alone. I’m tired.”

Embarrassingly, his voice cracks on the last word and more tears fall down his cheeks. He hears Duke move, and then hands, bare and gloveless, wipe his tears away with a gentleness that makes his heart ache.

“They won’t be able to hurt you again. You’ll be safe from now on, Danny, I swear it.”

“S’okay if I get hurt,” he says, “It always happens. Promise to save me if this happens again?”

“I’ll do whatever I can to make sure it doesn’t happen again. But if it does, then I promise to always save you. I gave you that panic button, didn’t I? As long as you keep it, I’ll always find you.”

“You’re a good person, Duke,” Danny says, voice falling quieter as his exhaustion catches up to him. “I’m glad I met you.”

He thinks he feels a soft touch to the top of his head. A kiss, maybe, though it’s not likely. But he wants comfort, and he’s endured a lot a pain so he allows himself to hope and be delusional. With the warm that spreads through him from Duke’s soft kiss to his head, Danny gives in to the siren call of slumber.

“Get some sleep, Danny,” Duke says, voice hushed. “I’ll stay with you as long as you need.”

I know, he doesn’t say, too tired to open his mouth again, You’re always here. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

He falls asleep easily after that. There’s nothing in the world that can hurt him while he’s in Duke’s arms. He’s never been safer.

[secondaxispoint]

Can we get a Joel x male reader where Joel is freezing cold so you spoon him so feels warmer??

Pairing: Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Warnings: None!

Content: Fluff!

This was an adorable concept so I hope I did it justice. Thanks for the request!! I absolutely love your writing/blog. 💙

Your Little Spoon

Ellie had been complaining for an hour before you convinced Joel to take a break for the night. What really sucked was that it was freezing and the three of you had no shelter. Joel was still weary about starting a fire so you'd just have to just have to make do for a few hours. You had lended the kid your outer jacket so you were ready for a break yourself.

After setting up in a clear patch off the path, you all burrowed yourselves into the depths of your bedrolls. You had only just started to fall asleep when you heard Joel shifting behind you. You thought he was just moving so you ignored it and buried yourself deeper into your sleeping bag.

Another 20 minutes and Joel was still moving around behind you. You turned to look over your shoulder to make sure he was alright. You saw Joel was dozing lightly but he was shivering pretty badly. You didn’t want to wake him or invade his personal space so you kept to yourself. You felt Joel shuffle closer, not quite touching, but you could hear him breathing.

A few minutes after that, you and Joel were touching back to back. You could feel him shivering now. You were fully awake and extremely conscious of your own movements. You could feel your heartbeat thudding against your ribcage. Your face was aflame and your ears were burning. You've only been this close to Joel a handful of times.

You closed your eyes and tried your very best to get back to sleep but you just couldn't focus on anything other than Joel shuddering against your back. You’ve had enough. You slowly flipped onto your back and faced his direction without disturbing him too much. You curled an arm around his waist and pulled his back flush against your chest. He started whimpering and muttering quietly in his sleep.

“Shh, shh. You're okay Joel. I got you. You're alright.”

You soothe him with gentle words, running your hand up and down his chest. You pull him closer against you and rest your chin on top of his head, feeling his soft hair against your jaw. Once he finally stopped trembling, you thought it was okay to pull away before he woke up. But you were stopped by Joel turning himself over in your arms, nuzzling his nose into your jacket.

You looked down at him to see that he was still asleep. You felt yourself overheating. How could he possibly be cold, the man was a human furnace. You kept one arm wrapped around him and the other moved to the top of his head, running your fingers through his hair. Joel groaned and nudged closer into your jacket. Your eyelids started to droop and your mind felt foggy. You finally fell into a dreamless sleep.

You awoke only when you felt Joel wrap his arms around you. You partially cracked open one eye to look down at him. He was awake and tracing patterns into your side. He wasn't pulling away or trying to wake you up. He was simply entertaining himself until you got up.

You saw the sun was coming up but you didn’t want to move yet. You wanted to stay here with Joel in your arms. You didn’t know when the next time, if there was a next time, you would get to do this again. So you closed your eyes and tightened your grip on the back of his jacket.

“I know you're awake darlin.”

Joel spoke up.

“Mmmh.”

You didn’t say anything or make any type of attempt to withdraw away from him. He didn’t move either. So the two of you laid there and waited for Ellie to wake up or the sun to fully rise.

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

King of Hearts

Chapter 1 - Long Live the King!

A Mafia!Steve Harrington AU (featuring Mafia!Eddie Munson)

Next

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: The Mafia world is on edge when Steve Harrington comes back to town to take over for his father. His presence sets off a whirlwind of emotions that you'd thought you'd buried long ago.

18+ Only! Minors DNI! (Future smut and mature themes!)

CW: Slow burn. Exes to lovers. Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Dove." Angst. Pining. Reader is married to an abusive asshole (this will get worse as the story progresses). Reader is assaulted. Talk of death. Funeral. Drug use/abuse.

WC: 6.1K

You crept through the foyer, hoping the small sound of the door closing wouldn’t rouse anyone in the large house.

Removing your heels from your stocking clad feet, so that you could silently move through the room and quickly check your surroundings, pausing, listening. You were met with nothing but the sound of your heartbeat reverberating in your chest.

You thought you were in the clear, but your false sense of security was quickly shattered, rounding the corner only to be met with your husband’s steely glare. A cigarette and stiff drink in hand. He was home early.

Nikolai was a large, intimidating man with broad shoulders, sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that threatened to set anyone aflame that came near.

He was sitting in front of the large fireplace in the study. When you caught his gaze, he bid you to come forward as he set the drink down. Brining the cigarette to his lips, taking a long inhale before resting it alongside his drink.

Dressed in his usual suit, his jacket left on the chair behind him, leaving him in a white button up with the sleeves rolled up on his forearms revealing an expanse of black ink beneath.

You shuffled forward slowly, crossing your arms behind your back with your heels still dangling from your fingertips.

“Tough day, my love?” he cooed, in a sickly-sweet voice that would almost sound sincere to anyone else. His lips turned up into a cruel smirk as he turned to look at you.

You hated it when he called you that. There was only one man that said it and ever truly meant it.

“You know exactly how my day has been.” You hissed, already over his little games.

“Now kitten, a little birdie told me you were seen with him. Though, it doesn't come as a surprise.” Calm tone, but you knew that was about to change. The literal calm before the storm.

“Nik,” you started, his palm met your cheek with a sharp smack that echoed in the otherwise quiet space, along with the thud of your heels that fell from your grasp. Your eye instantly welled, unable to control the tears forming from the force of his blow. Pain instantly searing the skin.

You could taste the familiar metallic tang in your mouth, as you reached up trying to soothe the discomfort. Yet another bruise to hide in the morning.

Ever defiant, you raise your head slowly, to meet his cold, indifferent gaze.

He gripped your chin, forcing your face closer to his.

“Now, kitten,” no feeling whatsoever behind those words.

“This kind of behavior just won’t do for my reputation. I can't let you go whoring around with him out in public, making me look like a fool in the process.”

He removed his hand slightly, only to cup your cheek engulfing it with his large palm. It was tender, a stark contrast to the pain he had just inflicted. Raised welts beginning to form under his touch.

Playing this same game a dozen times over, you know how it ends. One moment an enraged monster, the next a doting husband.

He pushed your face a little harshly, putting some distance between you to take his leave.

“Clean yourself up and get ready for dinner. Your father will be joining us.” He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours, catching the back of your head pressing you closer to his larger frame. You made no attempt to push him away, knowing it would only spur his anger.

He released you, grabbing his jacket and turning back one last time before he spoke.

“And kitten, end it. Or I will.”

Your father, the head of the crime ring. Your husband, a marriage for alliance. You, an heiress to the proverbial throne.

You didn’t want any of it. Caught in the middle and destined to forever be separated from the man you loved.

You thought you were being careful. You both should have known better.

8 Weeks Earlier

The gallery you managed downtown was your escape from all things family or business related. Here you could be your own person, not feeling bound by duty or marriage. It was your grandmother that instilled a love of art within you at a very young age taking you to art exhibits or museums around the city. You fell in love with the beauty and feeling of it all.

A new piece had just been delivered that you were examining, thoroughly ignoring your surroundings as usual, much too focused on the matter at hand.

You hadn’t heard him enter, as he came to stand directly behind you, pressed in much too close.

Tiny glasses perched toward the end of your nose; he watched the way you were so intently focused on nothing else in the world carefully focusing, stopping only to write small notes on the clipboard in your grasp.

“Little Dove,” clearing his throat slightly, startling you a bit.

You whirled around, only to be met with golden caramel mossy framed eyes staring back at you. The nickname uttered from his lips like soft silk.

“Steve?” you asked, almost breathless. You thought it would be a cold day in hell before you saw him again.

“In the flesh.” He grinned softly, holding his arms out as if showing himself off. Dressed in a navy-blue pinstripe suit and gray turtleneck that you were sure came straight from Italy just as he had.

“What… What are you doing here?” your tone more whispered as you looked around to make sure no one was watching.

“It’s ok, I made sure to slip past them. Your tails… uh… aren’t that great.” He whispered back in a mocking tone, chuckling lightly.

“You look…” you studied the man before you. “You look different, good.”

The last time you had seen Steve he still had his boyish features, but a man stood before you now. Rugged, but clean cut, sporting shorter, more tamed hair with slight stubble lining his jaw. He was even more handsome than you remembered. Italy seemed to be treating him well.

There was an air about him that commanded attention. When he entered a crowded room, he knew everyone would fall in line. A far cry from that party boy years ago. A boy that only ever had eyes for one girl, the woman stood before him now.

“Tesoro, leave it to you to find a job surrounded by beauty but you are the most beautiful piece here.” He smiled that crooked grin that always made you melt, his words syrupy sweet, cheeks heating at the praise.

You clutched the clipboard in your hands closer to your chest, face casting downward as an attempt to hide the blush that crept across your face.

You'd been told you were beautiful by countless men your entire life but when it came from the one man that mattered you turned into a shy mess.

His attention suddenly made it feel like all those years ago, hiding away in a dark corner as he spoke sweet nothings into your ear. Trailing kisses down your neck. Telling you the endless things he'd do for you, or to you.

Two young lovers hidden away from the world with nothing but dreams in their heads and stars in their eyes. Still naive to how cruel and unfair the world could truly be.

Eight years since you've seen him and yet staring at him before you it's as if not a single day has passed. It would be so easy to pick up where you left off, if only…

You snapped out of it, suddenly realizing the only reason he'd be back, shifting your gaze back to him.

“I'm sorry to hear about your father.” His smile fading as he nodded. “I know you two never saw eye to eye, but…”

“It’s okay Dove.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers, eyes casting downward. “It was only a matter of time. He'd been hiding the cancer diagnosis for months now.”

So, it wasn't a rival family or hired hitman that took him out. It was cancer. Everyone had been wondering when the news had come.

“I was still sorry to hear it, Steve.” You hesitantly reached out and rested your hand on his arm, squeezing lightly. “How's Pip holding up?”

Steve's younger sister, never seeing the cruel side of Richard Harrington the way he had. Pip was his Princess and she never let anyone forget that. She went to live with her mother when she was very young, only seeing Richard on holidays and birthdays. It was only natural she was devastated from his death.

“About as well as you'd expect. She uh…” pausing to scratch at his brow. A habit he always had when he was trying to find his words. “She's not doing well. I'm not sure how she's going to get through it tomorrow. I’m sending her back to live with mamma. I think it'll do her some good to get out of the city for a while.”

You didn't pry, knowing Pip was a little reckless and wild. She always gave Steve a run for his money when they were younger. Seems things hadn't changed much for her.

“I'm surprised she's listening to you.” You laughed out.

“I'm not giving her a choice.” You nodded in understanding. Steve was already taking his new role as head of the family very seriously, but you'd expect nothing less.

He was born to one day take over for his father, trained and taught all the ins and outs of this life from a very young age. He would, no doubt in your mind, lead the entire city one day, especially hearing the rumors from across the sea about how ruthless he could be, but you couldn't quite imagine the Steve you once knew to be anything but the kind, caring gentleman before you.

In this world, those kinds of assumptions are what get you killed, and you knew full well Steve had changed. You were unsure of just how much.

As comfortable silence fell between you, he allowed himself to let his eyes linger over you once more. Your back stiffened as you looked from the entrance back to him, shattering this moment of peace as reality settled back in.

“Well, Mr. Harrington it's been nice seeing you, but I must get back to work before those two idiots do their walk through to check up on me.”

“Ms. Alexander.” He smiled, nodding his goodbye.

“It's Mrs. Alexander-Petrov, but you know that.” He did know, but his jaw tightened when he heard it spoken aloud. To imagine you and Nikolai Petrov together made his blood boil.

Little Niki had been a vile womanizer. He and Steve knew each other from boyhood and their father’s dealings. He just hoped he was good to you and worships you the way he himself wishes he could.

“Right. Apologies Mrs. Alexander-Petrov. I'll see myself out. Take care, Tesoro.”

“Tell Eddie I said hi.” You called after him.

“Of course, Dove.” Stopping to look at you one last time.

You watched him exit out the back, through the alleyway.

There was still something there. That spark you couldn't deny. Maybe it was just you looking for closure but deep down you knew it would never truly be over between you. He

was your first love, always hoping he would have been your last.

It was a somber affair with a huge turnout. The Church was packed full of mournful guests.

For a funeral, it was still lavish. Old world money mixed with new. Women flaunting their Gucci or Louis Vuitton came second nature. Men with their expensive suits and gold watches. Any excuse to flaunt the wealth they had accumulated.

Family and business associates mingled, sewing together their tales and fond memories of the late Richard Harrington.

If you looked closely at the crowd, you could spot a few enemies mixed within, come to see the bastard exactly where they'd wished him to be.

As is tradition, you didn't necessarily come to pay respect to the dead, but you still paid respect to the family.

Steve and Pip, at the head of the church, accepting well wishes from each person that passed by. Eddie stood a few feet away giving them space but if anyone truly knew him, he was just as much family as the Harrington siblings.

Steve was stoic. From the moment you spotted him, you could tell he was trying to be strong. You couldn't help thinking of how handsome he looks, even in this setting. Pip could never hide her emotions, every person she talked with sent a fresh wave of tears flowing.

You had accompanied your father, David Alexander. Nikolai had excused himself from coming at the last minute, saying he had an emergency to take care of at the club. You didn't buy his lie but didn't bother arguing.

You had dressed simply, all black like the rest of the crowd. Knee length, quarter sleeved dress. Tight, but not suffocating. Modest compared to Pip’s attire. That girl never knew how to do anything simple or modest, her flamboyant personality would never allow it.

You both stood in line to see them, your eyes darting back up to Steve every few minutes.

“You're too quiet. What's eating at you?” Your dad leaned over to whisper.

“Hmm?” Your eyes shot up to his. “Nothing, just a lot on my mind.”

He squinted down at you as your head drifted toward the front once again. He followed your gaze, softly smiling to himself.

“Steven’s looking well, no? That boy has really grown into his own.”

You placed your arm around his when he extended his elbow, comfortably settling your hand to his forearm as he led you down the aisle.

“Yes, he looks well.” You hummed and nodded.

Your father grinned to himself as your eyes traveled back toward the front. He patted your hand and sighed as the line in front of you began to dwindle.

The couple ahead of you peeled themselves away from the siblings. Revealing you and your father to them.

Steve's eyes lit up immediately, but he held his solemn expression trying not to give himself away.

Your father spoke up first.

“Steven, my boy,” holding out his hand to greet him. “It's good to see you. My condolences, to you and your sister.”

Steve shook his hand, “Thank you, Mr. Alexander.”

“Please, call me David, son.” It made your heart warm faintly at the thought of your father seeing Steve for not only the man he now was but as an equal, first name basis was usually left for business partners or family only. Your father commanded an air of respect, especially from other families.

Their small talk faded from you as you looked over at Pip. She was so different from the last time you'd seen her. Her frame appearing thin with a sickly pallor accompanying dark sunken eyes.

When she spotted you staring at her, she smiled sweetly, reaching out to hug you.

“Dove!” She almost shrieked.

Your arms hugged her tightly to your chest, confirming what your eyes had seen. She was thin, strikingly so, filling you with worry.

“Pip, I’m so sorry sweet girl.” You soothingly rubbed her back, as a sob racked her body. You let her shed a few tears as she sniffed and leaned back up wiping at her cheeks.

“I’ll be okay, it's just hard knowing he's truly gone. But it's so good to see you. Let's catch up soon.” You nodded, squeezing her hand gently. She didn't let go immediately, grasping a little harder.

“Dove, will you please sit with me during the service?” Her eyes softly pleading, reminding you of your days as children when she would beg you to play a game or watch a movie instead of hanging out with her brother. She was by all accounts your little sister too.

“If it's alright with Steve, I…”

“Steve doesn't care. Do you, Stevie?” Her hand flew up, batting his chest as he gritted his teeth releasing a harsh breath.

“Not at all, Dove. But only if you're comfortable with…”

“She's fine Steve. Thank you, Dove!” She hugged you once more as you heard Steve mumble, “anything for the Princess.”

She shot him a glare before releasing you as you turned your attention toward him.

“Steve, I'm so sorry.” You wound your arms around his neck. His stiff demeanor immediately deflated and melted with your soft touch as his arms found their way around your waist, pressing you further into him. His scent enveloped you, smelling of the warm, spicy cologne he wore.

You held each other for a moment too long, getting lost in the warmth of his embrace, finally coming to your senses and easing back.

“I guess I'll see you up there.” Taking a step further back, seeing him nod.

“I…” He was about to speak before someone cut him off with more condolences as you shied away searching for your father who had already taken a seat in the back, speaking with some men that ran in his circle.

You weaved your way in and out of the crowd. Chatting with familiar faces and being polite to those you didn't quite know.

As the music began to play, everyone found their respective seats for the service to begin. You made your way to the front, feeling eyes on you as you went.

Pip was seated right beside Steve, but once she spotted you, she scooted over. Patting the space between the two of them.

You sat closer to her, trying not to crowd Steve into the corner.

“Thank you, Dove.” She whispered, taking your hand in hers. Black gloves covering her dainty fingers.

“Of course.” You stared ahead, trying not to cut your eyes over to him. The small space between you didn't shield you from the heat that radiated from him.

He remained quiet, but you heard him sigh softly. You wished you could hold his hand and bring him some sense of comfort. In another time and place you could imagine taking your seat beside him without the judgmental looks and hushed whispers.

The service went swiftly, Pip leaning on your shoulder and clutching your hand the entire time as she sobbed and sniffled. Steve maintained the same level of stoicism throughout.

You lost your mother at a very young age. The loss of a parent is something you never truly get over. You could relate in some sense, though you never truly knew your mother.

“Dove, you can ride with us to the cemetery. There's more than enough room.” She leaned over to whisper while they were finishing up, garnering Steve's attention as well.

“Pip.” He hissed, throwing her a warning glare.

“What?” She whispered more loudly, looking past you then.

“I'm sure she doesn't have all day to babysit you.” He said it without looking back at her.

You could see the sadness slowly subside on her face, as it was replaced with anger.

“Fuck you, Steve.” She spat, getting up from her seat, loud in the relatively quiet space while the priest was finishing his last prayer, momentarily causing him to pause, as she stomped down the aisle.

You were taken aback by the outburst but not surprised. Pip was a loose cannon, especially when it came to Steve. Two such domineering personalities that always clashed.

He was about to get up, but you grabbed his forearm stopping him, as he looked at you with a furrowed brow.

“Hey, don't worry. I'll go after her. You stay.” You reassured him.

“You don't have to do that. She's just…” he whispered.

“No, it's okay. Let me go talk to her.”

He nodded, as you slid from the seat. Holding your head high as you followed her, avoiding sideways gazes thrown your way.

You found her sitting on the steps outside the church, smoking a cigarette. Her mascara had begun to run but she hasn't bothered trying to wipe it away this time.

“Hey, you.” You lowered yourself down, knocking your shoulder into hers as you sat.

She took a long drag, exhaling toward the sky as the smoke curled away from her lips, letting the ashes fall to the concrete beside her.

“He doesn't have to treat me like a child. I know I've got issues but I'm not a fucking child. Mr. I don't show my emotions so you shouldn't either. Our dad died. You think the least he could do is show me a little compassion or act like he gives a shit.” She released a tagged sigh, taking the cigarette to her lips once more.

“I don't think he necessarily means to make you feel like that. Steve has a lot on his shoulders and your dad, well… he and Steve never saw eye to eye. I know he's hurting too, but he has to be strong. You know how it is with these men.” You rubbed soothing circles to her back as you spoke.

She sniffed, pulling a tissue out to wipe her face.

“I can ride to the cemetery with you. I don't mind.”

“That'd be nice.” A faint smile crossed her face, as you wrapped your arm around her waist. “I'm going to get cleaned up. Wait for me?”

“Of course.” You helped her up, following her back into the lobby as the service ended, watching her disappear into the restroom.

You caught your father on his way out, letting him know you were going with them, and he could head home if he needed to.

“If you're sure.” He kissed your forehead, before leaving you to stand by the door waiting for her to exit, when Steve strode up beside you.

“Where's Pip?!” He asked, a little breathless.

“She's in the restroom.” As soon as you got the sentence out, he began to bang on the door, twisting the knob.

“Steve, what're you doing? For God's sake, give her a little privacy.” You pleaded.

“Pip, open the goddamn door.” He rushed out, pounding his fists harder than before, looking worried when he was met with silence.

“Steve?” You looked around, a crowd slowly gathering around at his outburst.

“Just step back, I'm knocking the door down.”

You did as you were told, with your heart beginning to pound in your chest at how worried he seemed.

“Pip, I'm coming in!” He shouted, before his shoulder slammed into it, knocking it open as he rushed in.

You turned the corner to see Pip, slumped over against the back wall passed out. Your mind didn't comprehend what you were seeing at first.

He knelt down beside her, pulling her face up and lightly slapping her cheek.

“Pip! Wake up! Goddamnit!” His fingers flew to her neck, checking for a pulse.

It all seemed to be happening in slow motion as you watched the scene unfold. Eddie rushed in beside you, as Steve yelled at him to bring the car around, lifting her up with him from the ground, moving aside as he passed you.

It was frantic, the sea or people parting to let them go by as you stood there in shock. Watching Steve run with her lifeless body in tow.

Only coming to your senses when you hear someone close by seemingly laughing at the scene. “Pip, always the life of the party.” They sneered.

You looked around the small bathroom, spotting her purse on the floor, quickly picking it up and taking it with you avoiding the gazes of onlookers but keeping your head held high all the way.

Richard Harrington was buried while colleagues and friends looked on. None of his children were there to see him interred.

You were ringing your hands in the back seat as your chauffeur took you across town the next morning. Nerves getting the better of you.

It has been years since you've seen the Harrington residence but as soon as it comes into view memories begin to flood your mind.

There were the sweet moments when you were young children. Playing in the garden or swimming in the pool. You, Steve and Pip. Much simpler times when a game of hide and seek could keep you all occupied for hours.

Isabella Harrington had finally had enough right after Steve turned 10, leaving Richard and taking Pip with her back to Italy. She didn't leave Steve to fend for himself intentionally but given the option of losing both her children or taking Pip, she has no other choice.

Suddenly, the play dates were dwindling, and you began to see less and less of Steve. Separate schools made it even harder but despite it all you remained close.

You'd been in love with Steve since you were 12 when he told you that one day he was going to marry you and gave you your first kiss behind the pool house.

So caught up in your thoughts you hadn't heard the driver or noticed the car had stopped.

“Miss? Are you alright?” He said a little louder, catching your attention and thoroughly pulling you from your daydream.

“Hmmmm? Yes, fine, thank you.” Replying quickly.

“We’ve arrived, Mrs. Petrov.” He said as he exited the car, coming around to get your door.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you removed yourself, neck craning upward. The house seemed bigger, more intimidating than you remembered.

Immediately clocking several security personnel stationed in various positions around the yard, no doubt already alerting him to your arrival as you stepped across the cobblestone drive, heels a little unsteady against the uneven stone.

Reaching the few steps to the large front door, it opened before you had the chance to knock.

“Hi stranger!” Eddie beamed down at you. Curls tied back into a low bun, still dressed to impress. Burgundy silk dress shirt thrown over his frame, tattooed forearms on display. He was handsome in his own right.

“Hi Eddie! How have you been?” You stepped closer to him, pulling him in for a quick hug. “Sorry we didn't get to chat yesterday.”

“Doing well, and don't sweat it. There was a lot going on.” He laughed, albeit a little nervously as he pulled back. “He's in the office, you can follow me.”

You remembered the layout fairly well, the office was at the back of the house on the first floor. A large space, with windows overlooking the expanse of the back garden.

Eddie walked quietly ahead of you, as you looked around the house. It was exactly as you remembered. Dark walls with marble flooring leading to the ornate door at the end of the hall.

He didn't bother knocking, as you followed him in. The curtains were drawn back from the windows letting the natural light illuminate the space.

Steve leaned against the far wall staring out the window. He was dressed down in a sky blue short sleeved shirt and cream-colored trousers. He turned, chestnut locks a little unkempt with a thin gold chain resting against his chest.

He turned in time to see you both enter, pushing off the wall to meet you halfway.

“Dove! What a pleasant surprise.” He flashed you a warm smile, turning to dismiss Eddie as he closed the door behind him.

“I brought Pip’s clutch.” Holding out for him to take.

“Thanks, I'll let her know. Though I'm not sure she even missed it.” He sighed, easing it from your hand, tossing it to the desk beside him.

You'd heard she'd barely made it to the hospital. Apparently, the coke she had ingested was laced with fentanyl. Pip was a party girl, she hadn't intentionally tried to overdose which was a relief, all things considered.

“How is she?” You asked.

“I honestly don't know. I thought she…” His face flashed with momentary worry, before shaking it off. “She's going to rehab before I send her back to Italy. I think this might have actually scared some sense into her even though she's pissed at me.”

“You're doing the right thing. She needs you to be there for her.” Reassuring him.

He nodded before you both fell into a comfortable silence as your eyes took in the room. He had already begun renovating it to his liking which made you smile.

“I thought it could use an update.” He said, as if reading your mind.

The wallpaper was being taken down, replaced with a fresh coat of paint. Steve has always hated his father's gaudy taste, as if he needed to remind himself of his wealth in his own office. Steve was humble, he didn't need to flaunt and inflate himself to others. You admired him for that, always staying true to himself.

“I'm sure it'll be perfect. Doing the whole house, I hope? The medieval dungeon theme is so last year.” He chuckled.

“You don't like it? I thought about adding some chains and cuffs in the hall to really set it off.” You both laughed.

“But, yes I'm planning an overhaul for the entire house.” For a moment he wondered what you would do with the place. He could imagine the way your eyes lit up knowing you could make it your own.

A place for you and him to raise a couple of kids, have family dinners every Sunday and eventually grow old together. Or would you want to move out of the city altogether? Sell this old house and start anew?

If only he knew the similar thoughts that swirled through your mind but you couldn't allow yourself to dwell.

You suddenly checked your watch, clearing your throat.

“I'm sorry to cut this short, I've got a client coming by in a few.” Sighing to yourself.

“No worries. I'll let Pip know you brought this by.” Holding her purse up for emphasis. “Let me walk you out.”

He followed closely behind you down the hall, just shy of reaching his palm out to your lower back, into the foyer as one of the security guards opened the front door.

You turned once more to bid him farewell but it was he who spoke first.

“Dove, you're welcome here anytime. Please, stop by. I'll even show you my fancy cooking skills sometime.” He grinned, the smile reaching his eyes, boyish and bright.

“Steve Harrington cooks? This I'll have to see.” Mirroring his smile, as your driver opened your door. “Bye Steve.”

He waved, as you got in and continued to watch your car exit the drive.

He couldn't explain it. The inexplicable need to be near you. Wishing for another life. A once upon a time he could have had with you.

Alone in his big house, with no one to share it with, he sighed heavily making his way back to his office.

Fairy tales, he thinks. Meant for much gentler souls than he. Someone deserving of it, brave and pure of heart, just like the stories his mother used to read to him and Pip when they were still children, still room to believe in such notions as soul mates and true loves first kiss.

Eddie was waiting there, sitting behind his desk.

“Call for you.” He stated, getting up from the chair extending the phone towards him.

“Take a message, I'm not in the mood right now. I'll call them back.” He crossed the room, pouring himself a drink.

“Steve, I think you're going to want to take this.”

You hated lying but you had to get out of there.

A whole lifetime's worth of memories seemed to overtake you when you stepped through the threshold of a home that you practically grew up in.

You dreaded going back to your own home. A home that you'd hoped one day would have been filled with love that never came to fruition.

Such high hopes in the beginning with Nikolai.

He was the perfect gentleman. A whirlwind romance that had you so swept away you didn't see his true colors until it was too late.

So caught up with what he was, but it was truly only what he showed you. What he wanted you to believe.

Soon after your marriage, it was late nights at his clubs coming home smelling of liquor and sweet smelling perfume that turned into not coming home at all some nights.

You'd wanted white picket fences and children laughing down the hall. He gave you heartache and crying alone in your empty king sized bed.

Almost five years later and you're left to question if he ever loved you or if it had all been a strategy to gain his power.

Later that night you were in the study reading on the large sofa, room lit softly by the fireplace. Cozy in silk pajamas and your favorite blanket, it was the perfect end to the day as you sipped some wine.

Nik slipped in, late as usual, loosening his tie as he stomped into the room.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” He hissed.

“Well, nice to see you too, dear.” You didn't look up, only rolling your eyes. “It looks like I'm reading, no?”

“Why the hell did you go to Harrington's today?” He stepped in front of you, crossing his arms.

“I was returning Pip’s clutch. She left it at the church.” Shrugging and returning to your book as if it should be the end of it.

“You expect me to believe that?” He leaned down, arm caging you in, as he swiftly pulled the book from your hand tossing it in the empty space of the couch beside you. Closing in, almost nose to nose, as his imposing frame hovered over you.

“It's the truth, Nik. I really don't care what you choose to believe.” You spat back at him. Not at all in the mood for his little games or vile attitude.

You knew the only reason he skipped the funeral was because he had a bone to pick with Richard. Now it seems he's trying to take it up with Steve.

You pushed his chest, getting up from the couch as you started to cross the room now done with the conversation but he grabbed your arm, wrenching you back around to face him.

“Let's get one thing straight, YOU, under no circumstances, are to see him again.” His grip tightening as he spoke. He'd never laid a hand on you, but the way he was squeezing you now was surely going to leave a mark.

“Nik, let me go. You can't forbid me to stay away from my childhood friends. You're being ridiculous. Steve is not Richard. You have nothing against him.” His grip only grew tighter, shaking you just a bit as you tried to pull yourself free. “Nik! Let go of me!”

“No Y/N! I mean it. You are not to see him again!” Screaming in your face, droplets of spital flying toward you. “Do you understand me?”

You finally nodded. Worrying if you tried to push the issue further it would only make things worse.

“Say it!” He shouted.

“I understand. Now, let me go!” He did so, pushing you slightly away from him.

“Good.” He sneered, smirk now donning his face as he brushed past you on his way to pour himself a drink from the small bar in the corner of the room as you quickly grabbed your things.

You passed one of Nik’s security details, whose gaze fell away from you as you rushed out of the room, he'd overheard the entire thing. You were mortified at his behavior. Nik was a grade A asshole but he had never been physical.

Your feet carried you swiftly to your room, heaving a sigh of relief as you locked the door behind you. Glad to have some kind of barrier between the two of you tonight.

Running into the bathroom, you slid your robe from your shoulder to examine your arm. It was already starting to form finger shaped bruises.

You could easily hide them, wearing long sleeves, which you did most days. It was horrifying to think you had no choice but to hide them. HE had done this to you.

You washed your face and slid into bed, crying softly to yourself as your mind began spiraling. This was a life you had never wanted.

A husband that never looks at you, unless it's with disdain and contempt. Now seemingly hell bent on keeping you in line the way he sees fit. When words don't work, he'll easily use brute force to bend you to his will.

Telling Steve would be completely out of the question for both of your sakes, but in the coming days you would soon find out how difficult it would be to avoid him completely.