#i just wanted to draw them ✨bare faced✨

[f0point5]

I think I have sent this same request some time ago but I still would like you to write something about Emilia and Max hanging out with Victoria’s children and maybe thinking about their own future kids. But really anything with Max and Emilia would be great!

I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one, but tumblr eats asks sometimes 🤷‍♀️ but it’s too cute so here you go! I am keeping these short but I hope you still enjoy it!

✨Set during summer break 2024✨

I’m having his baby (…) no, I’m not

You take a sip of your rosé as Victoria comes to stand beside you. You’re lurking in the doorway of the lounge, watching Max sitting on the couch with his baby niece in his arms. He’s bobbing her in a gentle motion, his hands looking huge around her tiny, swaddled body.

“God, I remember when we used to say our kids would get married,” Vic says beside you, and you laugh.

You did say that. As little kids you would wish to be sisters, and somehow the only way you could think to make that happen would be for your children to marry each other. Like in that Flintstones movie you used to love. You’d draw pictures of the two of you sitting on the porch of a large house, watching your children get married.

Now you wonder if your mums thought the same, during those summers in Italy, as they watched you all play. They swear now that they did, that the mother’s intuition told them you and Max were tied together by some invisible chord that chafed on both your wrists. “A mother always knows,” Sophie said to you when she saw you last, “you will know, too”.

“And now that would be illegal and dangerous for our grandkids,” you say, shaking your head. “Crazy,”

“I like it better this way,” Victoria says, putting her arm around your shoulder and squeezing you into a hug.

“Me, too,” you agree, your eyes fixed on Max and Hailey. He’s whispering to her in Dutch, her eyes fluttering closed every few seconds as she yawns in his face, which only makes him smile. He’s utterly mesmerised by her. And you’re mesmerised by him.

I swear I can actually feel my ovaries right now.

“He’s so good with kids,” Vic says. “Even with Jaye I remember he was so gentle,”

“Yeah,” you agree, only half hearing her as you take another sip.

“Gives you baby fever, huh?”

You choke on your wine. Was that Victoria or your subconscious talking?

Vic, are you in here? No, of course she’s not in here. She’s just being nosey. Act natural.

“Are you okay?” Max asks from the couch. You look over at him as you wipe your mouth, coughing once as you nod. Even as he looks at you in concern, he never stops the gentle bouncing motion of the baby in his arms.

You go to answer, but Vic beats you to it, blunt as ever. “I was just saying, you will be having one of your own soon, yeah?” She smiles, nodding at Hailey.

If Max is panicking as much as you, he doesn’t show it, just shrugging. “I mean, ye-“ You can feel your eyes widen, and he stops when he sees your face. He tries again. “May-“ he frowns at you, silently begging for help. “No?” You nod gently, and Max turns to Victoria. “No.”

She looks at you in mild disbelief. “No?”

“No,” you emphasise to both Verstappens.

You love them dearly but genetics are a crazy thing - they both share a chronic disregard for timing. They want it all, and they want it now, in any order, all order be damned.

“You’re not getting any younger,” Victoria says, nudging you.

“That is just rude,” you tell her, and she just smiles unapologetically.

“Oh, come on,” she implores, reaching up to wind her finger around a lock of your hair, “a little baby with Max’s eyes and your hair?”

“And both of our tempers,” you say with a chuckle. “Can you imagine that? Besides, we can barely make cereal, and you want us to raise a baby?”

You look at Max for support, but he’s no longer paying attention. He’s looking down at his niece like he’s holding water.

Maybe a baby can live on cereal, if her dad looks at her like that.

“I’m going to go put Hailey down for her nap,” Vic says, jerking you from your thoughts.

She goes over to take a sleepy Hailey from Max’s arms, and he looks loathe to let her go. She looks so much bigger when held by her mother, and her so much more fragile.

“When I get back, we can start on dinner. I’m going to make cereal,” Vic teases in a whisper, winking at you as she passes.

Max snorts with laughter, and you shoot Vic a glare as she starts to hum, shuffling her way out of the lounge towards the bedroom.

You join Max on the couch, falling onto it beside him with a heavy sigh.

“So glad I’m an only child,” you say, rolling your eyes. When Max doesn’t respond, you glance over at him to find him staring at his hands. You nudge him gently. “What?”

“You do,” he starts, leaning back as he turns to you. “Want kids, someday, don’t you?With me. I mean…you don’t think I’ll be, like…”

“No,” you answer quickly, when you understand what he’s getting at.

You silently curse yourself for that joke about tempers. For ever making him think that’s something you worry about. You know there’s a heaviness in Max, in both of you. You know that he is so much more than his father’s son. But you also know that the weight on his shoulders will keep him crooked until he can see that for himself. You hope knowing you see it will be enough for now.

“I want your baby, Max. Someday. There’s no one else I would ever do this with besides you and not just because I love you, but because I know you’ll be an amazing dad,” you tell him honestly, and even that small platitude seems to relax his shoulders. “But can we at least get to one year of baby making activities before we start painting a nursery?”

Max nods, letting out a husk of a laugh. “I’m shit at painting anyway,” he says, looking at you from under those eyelashes that you secretly envy.

Maybe she’ll inherit those, too.

“Free practice?” You offer with a smirk, holding your hand for his.

Max looks at your outstretched palm for a moment before taking your hand in his. “Free practice,” he agrees, using his grip on your hand to pull you forward so that your chest is pressed against his. “I’m looking forward to FP2 later,”

[mercurysketches]

the clergy’s new year’s gathering went well 🍾

[ghostbutter0]

Another moment from game!! I wish i could explain it but- This dude is SO CONFUSING. One time i think he wants to punch them in the face and the second time he's like: 🥰🤪😋😚✨🤗😊 He left me speechless.. He walk about to me JUST LIKE THAT. I don't get him but i guess... Good for him ? Some relaxing day ? Yay? Enjoy bro? Take a look :,>....

lazier comic but my wrist is in pain and i can barely draw :(( i'm sorry guys.

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi there! I was wondering if I could get mushroom pie and ice cream bars with a side of juice and ✨Vampire! Max Verstappen? ✨

I love your writing so much! And the bakery theme is my favorite thing 🥰

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu!!! want more vampire!max or something else that might tickle your fancy? then the bakery is open for requests!! thank you so, @fictional-babes-inc for this darling of a request. i've been pondering vampire or monster!max, like oh god! so thank you for this treat, it was great to make for you! enjoy!!

mushroom pie ("if you don't shut up. i'm going to shut you up.") + ice cream bar (“did you see the way he was eyeing you? he needs to know you're mine.") + juice (cockwarming) served by vampire!max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, vampire!max, vampire au, possessive behaviour/jealousy, cockwarming, human!reader, mentions of blood, biting, facetimes (exhibitionism), degrading language, clit playing

max thought that the marks on your neck were enough to let others know what you were taken. bringing a human into the fold with a bunch of vampires could cause some problems if one of them got the wrong idea. you belonged to max, and any vampire with at least one working eye could see that. how you tucked yourself neatly into your lover's side, let him taste your blood. docile and beautiful doing so.

but max knew charles well enough, the two had been immortal for about the same time. he knew that if you had max's name printed across your chest, charles would still flash those boyish smiles at you. get in a little too close, let those green eyes of his hypnotize you the way it had so many women.

max was a possessive creature of the night and charles loved to get under his skin.

"max."

"i don't want to hear it." you were both in the car. it was well into the night and max was driving you both back home.

his eyes were on the road, he refused to make eye contact. the thrum of envy engulfed his stomach. he gripped your soft thigh a little harder, if he wanted to, he could break the bone.

but max didn't break his toys. even if they disobeyed him.

"if you don't shut up. i'm going to shut you up." he said, his eyes flickered to you for a moment. they were blue, but a dangerous kind of blue. like the deepest part of the oceans. the all consuming nature of him.

you swallowed, "charles meant nothing by it. you knew how he is. he's a flirt. you know i'd never leave you. i promise." you bottom lip wobbled. humans, always so emotional.

as if max wasn't seething with jealousy.

when you both got home, you were brought to the couch in the living room. you cunt ached at the feeling of him tugging down your skirt, threatening to rip it at the seems.

your vampire boyfriend really hated the idea of another undead creature of the night putting his hands all over you. like he owned you.

he ran his fingers across your clothed slit and watched your squirm. oh, you were just lovely weren't you. he felt something rise inside of him as he eyed your heated body.

you looked so innocent, so human with all that blood in your body. sizzling under the heat of his sexual advances.

he got you out of your blouse and pulled the bra off of you. he stripped you bare and got his face up into your neck and sank his teeth into you. not enough to draw blood, but enough to bruise the sweet peach he called his beloved.

he got you up into his lap, seated upright against him. he got his cock out of his slacks before he pushed you down onto him. the sudden feeling of his cock inside of you made your breathing stagger for a moment.

you let out a small moan, but soon you were bent over as max propped his phone up on some books on the coffee table. you whimpered instead of asking what he was doing.

he just said, “did you see the way he was eyeing you, my love? he needs to know you're mine." he said it like a promise which made you stomach do a flip.

soon he was facetiming charles as you stayed seated on his cock. this possessive vampire! you squirmed a little but, max stayed close and started to play with your clit.

charles answered it, he was in bed and his eyes went wide at the sight before him. there you were, in max's lap with his cock stuffed into your pretty hole and his large fingers rubbing against your clit.

vampires really didn't have a sense of decency did they? regardless it made you run hot, your throbbing pulse enticed him.

"holy my." charles said as he shifted a little in his spot on the bed. you could feel the leer of his gaze through the phone screen, "you're certain she wasn't a prostitute before you met, max?"

"no. her father of a vampire hunter wouldn't have let her. she had never ever sucked cock before i got to her. poor thing, completely taken apart by the vampires."

you looked away, but max's words were biting as he told you to face his phone. look at charles while you did your job and kept max's cock warm. they spoke of you like you weren't in the room with them, like max's cock wasn't spearing you.

but you wouldn't move your hips as his cock filled you. you tried to get some sense of control by holding onto your knees. but soon max held you throat with his other hand, keeping your back to his chest.

"so, charles." max said as he continued to play with you. his fingers were methodical as they moved.

charles chuckled, "possessive, max? you could've just sent a photo. but, no, you have to put it right in my face.... but you know she'd look better with my fangs in that soft stomach of hers."

max sneered, "shut up, charles. you see this." he held your throat a little tighter, "this is mine. you have all of monaco to seduce. she is with me."

charles laughed at the petty jealous words, it was honestly funny to him, "oh max. i'll get her soon. you and i can have a take about what to do with your little pet."

vampires always so high and mighty.

you were a little beauty to max, the favourite thing to keep his cock warm. and he made sure you did a good job, he wouldn't have you slacking. he kept you seated on his cock, unmoving while he worked your slick pussy.

"max. ah!" you whimpered.

max sighed, "keep quiet. bad pets don't get to complain."

you clenched around his cock as you tried to grip onto his forearms. you looked like a debauched mess against him. letting charles drink in the sight of you. the other vampire didn't touch himself, rather he was enticed by the sight of you.

all the men, women and others in monaco, and charles yearned to dig his cock and fangs into you. see what the lover of his rival and friend felt and tasted like. was it rich like a large meal, or was it sweet fruit in the late summer.

what did you taste like, little human?

max took you by the jaw and turned your head to the side, exposing your neck and letting him take a bite into you. once again, only enough to bruise. the intimate act of drinking blood was only for his eyes.

you felt your head grow heavy from the entire thing. the pleasure damped any bad thoughts you were having. you could hear charles' voice when he said, "seems she enjoys this too much, max.'

max worked your pussy harder as you remained soaked around his hard cock, that was dribbling pre-cum into your poor cunt. he smirked at charles before he sank his teeth in fully.

to damn with convention, he wanted to make his stake clear.

it sent you over the edge. you came around his cock and it made him tense up. he licked at the blood as he slowed down his fingers. you went soft against his chest and let your lover do what he pleased.

"and charles... don't touch what is mine again." he could see how flustered charles was. max then ended the call before you were shoved over the coffee table, the books shoved off the table. your ass up in the air as he tossed his phone to the side. he needed you.

he needed you now.

-

the following week, you were with the vampires once more. they had been nice enough to give the human guests something to nosh on while the creatures discussed all matters.

you could feel charles' gaze from the couch. you felt heat run through you once he approached you. his hand on your thigh, pushing up the short dress you owned.

he chuckled, "a sundress for the lover of one of the most important vampires on the continent." he leaned in a little closer, "i think you'd look pretty in something darker. something that didn't make you look like prey."

you felt your heart stagger.

"charles... that's enough." max said as he cut into the little scene on the couch.

charles just smiled, "i wasn't actually going to bite her."

max raised his eyebrows then said, "if you're going to try and fuck her, charles. i must be present there too." it was his compromise, if charles leclerc wanted you so badly. then what was stopping him? but if he was going to take that chance, it would be under the watchful eye of your vampire lover. <3

[manias-wordcount]

Dabi that gets a crush on quirkless reader that he inadvertently saves one day

Then they thank him not knowing he’s a villain like “ thank you you’re my hero”

And he just goes home and jerks off about it.

————

I also want to draw a character for you bc i feel silly rq more than once but not trading anything haha

Keep up the superb work 🤌🤌✨✨

Freak in the Streets (Dabi/Touya Todoroki x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗺𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗱 "𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗷𝗲𝗿𝗸𝘀 𝗼𝗳𝗳 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁." 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶 𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁. 𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗮𝗽𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗴𝗲𝗻 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝘀𝗼 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝗶 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁 𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁!! 𝘀𝗼𝗹𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗯𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗱𝗮𝗯𝗶 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝘄𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

He couldn't stop thinking about the way you looked at him.

Your eyes were littered with tears. Your mouth just barely parted as you struggled to breathe after being choked out by someone else. You have a few bruises. Scapes and cuts and bumps. Nothing that he couldn’t give you. But it was the fear and relief and anguish in your expression as he lit the jacket of some jackass that was in his way earlier on fire that drew him. You were just supposed to be some bitch tossed to the ground and out of the way until he finally dealt with you. Someone he was debating internally about when and how he should kill them. Someone whose face he should have forgotten already.

But then you looked at him.

Chest heaving. Eyes half-lidded. And body looking fucking amazing in whatever the hell you were wearing. You looked at him, and then at the man whose jacket was currently on fire. The guy’s screams were loud and obnoxious and distracting. Shrill and pained. It made Dabi’s blood boil. He didn’t need anyone else trekking down this alleyway and finding this scene. He didn’t need any heroes or police called. They would all just make a bigger mess.

But he couldn’t kill the guy. Because you were still in front of them. You were still looking at him.

It was obvious that you hated whoever Dabi decided to burn. That guy did something to you, so you hated that guy more than Dabi cared to know. But you were shaking. Quivering where you fell, and fuck, Dabi should kill you too just to get things over with. He shouldn’t even be looking back at you right now. He should be making you say your prayers and frying you alive. Hell, the other guy shouldn’t even be alive right now and desperately screaming as he tries to take off the piece of burning leather now singeing its way onto his body. 

But then you spoke. 

“Thank you,” You told him. Your voice sounded so weak. So pitiful. It was disgusting. That’s all he could think about. How disgusting you are. How worthless you are. How stupid you are. How could you not recognize the sight of the blue flames? How could you not recognize that he’s a villain? How could you not know that he’s seconds away from killing you too? But you decide to thank him? You choose to look at him like that thinking that he saved you? “Nobody ever helps quirkless people anymore. You’re my hero.”

He knows that. 

He kills people like you for sport. He kills people like you because it’s fun.

So why is he back at his apartment fisting his cock on his futon and trying to imagine what it would be like if your lips wrapped around his cock instead of his hand?

“Fuck,” Dabi let out a low hiss from under his breath. A long dribble of precum has been steadily leaking all over his hand. His tip looks an angry red color- almost akin to what his hair used to be. He’s more worked up than usual. He usually at least makes it to his shower before jacking off so he doesn’t have to bother with any cleanup. Or he at least finds some broad in the entertainment district to suck him off until he’s had his fill. But as he was unlocking his apartment door, he just couldn’t stop thinking about you. 

Your eyes. Your lips. Your body. Your voice.

Fuck, he shouldn’t have told you to get out of his way. He should have at least frisked you for your wallet. He could have had all the cash you were carrying and had your ID. He could have known your name. He could have had your address. He could be at your place right now, laying you out and fucking you nice and deep and fast like you’re some common whore. He’d make you his whore. He’d have you be his hole. And you’d like it. You seem like the type who would.

He should have killed you.

That’s all he can think about as he tosses his head back and pumps his cock even harder before. His groans have started to grow a little louder than what he’s used to. Usually, he doesn’t even make a sound. Usually, his balls don’t ache with the need to be in someone’s mouth as soon as possible. Usually, he isn’t left wanting for more or a specific person.  Nothing and no one has even been good enough for that. But if the very image of you with your face down and your ass up on his cock is starting to make him weak enough to consider looking for you as soon as he finishes here.

You’re supposed to be nobody special. You aren’t special. You’re not a model who’s too hot for words. You’re not some hero he wants to break. And fuck, you’re quirkless too. You don’t mean shit to him. You don’t mean shit to the world. You’re a bottom feeder. 

But he bets you’d look so pretty with a dick in your mouth too. He bets you’d whine all loud and needy like if he were to fuck your throat. He bets that he could make you cry while you take it all down and swallow his cum. It would probably be pretty easy for him to make you swallow all his cum too. He would just have to get a little rough with you. Push you around. Turn up the heat. Make you know your place.

Hell, that’s probably why that corpse was slapping you around earlier. Maybe you weren’t doing what he wanted. Maybe you weren’t doing what you were told. Nobody likes a pet that doesn’t listen. 

But not everyone is a good pet owner. Not everyone is deserving of that title. But he? He has experience. He’s strong enough to break you in. No matter how much work it’ll take. No matter how feisty or soft your spirit is, he’ll be able to take you. He’ll take you for sure. The body he left in the alleyway for someone else to find didn’t seem like the type to know how to get things done. But Dabi could. 

Dabi could get you crying and choking and swallowing down his cock in no time at all. Dabi could get you on all fours for him easily. Dabi could get you on top and have you ride and bounce off his dick until you could even stand. Hell, Dabi could he get you nice and creamy and ready for his cock every hour of every day if does everything right and steals you away from whatever shithole you crawled out and right back into his awaiting arms. Ready to seal away the lucky little prize you are for himself.

And he deserves it after all. After all the shit he’s been through. After all the shit he’s done. After all the work he’s done to be this powerful. To be Dabi. He deserves it. He deserves you. And you did say he was your hero, right? 

So how about he goes and finds you so you can thank him properly this time?

[aluciahaz]

Omfggg ur writing is SO unbelievably good i love it sm 😭🙏🙏

I got kind of a prompt for a sub!vox x gn (maybe afab) reader ✨ Okay so what if, since we all know vox is OBVIOUSLY a bratty bottom, the reader fucks the brattiness out of him? And he goes from trying to be a dom, to resistant bottom, to bratty bottom, to just begging to come with all his life, maybe even crying cuz the reader won’t let him

TYSM!!!! im glad you think my writing’s good ❤️ALSO FINALLY A VOX REQ AGHH

i have like 50094949 drafts for like all of the other stuff in my inbox but i just have to write this vox fic first ok im self indulgent i apologize 😭

—vox x gn!reader

—includes : sub!vox, dom!reader, light bondage, edging

vox is so obvious.

he clearly has a thing for control. a need, a desire. it was practically his core personality trait. yet, he’s most certainly not made to wield it.

sure, he can try and sweet talk you, saying sultry things and bragging about his power in order to get you to feel below his level. but you know how frail that persona is. a single slip up, and it would all come crashing down into deafening static.

which, was almost impressively easy to do.

his claw-like fingers runs up your neck, one of them stopping at your cheek as he smirked. if he wasn’t careful, he could fuck up and draw blood. he was tip-toeing the small line here.

a small line that if he crossed, you’d switch up this silly little game immediately, taking the control of the show and making him the contestant.

live only for you.

but, you entertain his farce of dominance, a smile playing on your lips as you see what he has in store…if he had anything, that is.

“you’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?” he asks, clearly rhetorical as he caresses your cheek gently, his voice steady as he speaks. he leads you down to the bed with teeth raking your neck as he crawls over you. there’s something fun about watching him try and fluster you, to get you to say the things he wants. but you were no people pleaser.

“perhaps. unfortunately i can’t say the same for you,” you respond, your smile forming into more of a smirk at the ends of your lips as your hands snake around his delicate waist, tightening around it like a corset.

you can already see the hesitation in his eyes, the brief moment of surprise at your sudden grasp. it was too easy to surprise this man. it’s a wonder he hasn’t exploded yet.

“what do you mean by that?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing in both nervousness and curiosity, almost like he didn’t want to know. the fingers on your cheek seem to barely just get too rough as he looked at you.

“don’t act like i didn’t hear you in the office this morning, moaning my name like some prayer,” you mock, your knee slotting between his legs with ease. vox keels over at the sudden feeling, a sharp gasp getting punched out of his system with little effort.

“impatient.”

“what’s the big deal? am i not allowed to jerk off anymore?” he complains, bringing himself back up to his hand and knees over you as he glares with indignation.

“i told you to wait.”

“and i don’t remember needing to!” vox snarled, the grasp on your face tightening until you saw him pull it away, a droplet of blood adorning his finger.

simply unacceptable.

instantly, with a loud yelp of complaint and confusion, he hits the mattress with a thud, cursing in annoyance as he looks up at you. his face, once filled with irritation, shifted into one of almost astonished fear as he gazed upon your expression, cold and unforgiving.

“i’ll make you remember.”

his screen flickers before going back to normal, his face scrunched up in anger as he spat out his unwise words.

“i’d like to see you try.”

so, try you did.

his hands were cuffed with plush handcuffs to the bed-frame—you know he wouldn’t be able to handle real ones—and of course since he was never good with self-control, he had a cock ring on as a ‘treat’.

you’re delighted by how much of a fight he puts up though. considering how fragile his ego is, you were sure that he’d melt into your hands the moment you bound him to the bed.

“this is your plan?” vox rolled his eyes, watching you pour lubricant on your fingers with an unimpressed look. “not very impressive. you’ll need more—ngh! shit! give a guy some warning—!”

“beggars can’t be choosers.”

“i don’t fucking beg—!”

“you will.”

there was no mercy from that point forth. one finger after the other, shocks of electricity would course through his veins, mouth agape as your quick hand inside kept making him feel sparks of pleasure through his entire body.

“let me—cum! ass—zz—hole!” he shouted, tugging at the handcuffs to no avail. he wanted to touch himself so bad, yet you were adamant.

“if you ask nicely, maybe,” you tell him, circling your fingers before pressing deep onto that electric spot again, making him cry out in frustration and enjoyment.

all he could do was shoot you a disgusted look before yelling once more, kicking the blanket underneath him in exasperation. his anguish crackled through his veins like a current, trying to fight the urge to just submit.

but it was all too much. he was weak, even if he convinces all of hell that he’s not, he wouldn’t be able to fool you. the bucks of your fingers were replaced with the movement of your hips, making him wail for more.

an hour had passed, and his indignant claims of “i don’t feel anything!” or “you’ll never get me to beg!” shifted into more pleasant glitching screams of “don’t stop!” and “please, more!”

finally, he was using his manners.

“let me cum—ple—zz—se! i c-can’t—!” vox cried out as you quicken the pace, thrashing underneath you with his legs now wrapped around your waist, holding for dear life as you drive into him.

“i—hic—mm! ‘m s—zz—sorry! ‘msorry-AH! sorry!” his back curves off the bed as he squirms, crying in earnest now. tears fell his face with broken pixels blinking in and out underneath, his screen cutting at random points to an error warning from the overstimulation.

“pathetic,” you spit out, your hands digging into his hips as you practically manhandled the man, making him move once he lost all the energy to match your movements. “you listen to me. you do what i say, and you don’t talk back.”

you hear him shriek desperately as you grab his cock, red and weeping as you overwhelm him with pleasure, but never letting him over the edge.

“do you understand? you’re mine.”

you run your finger underneath his tip, and you see him glitch out into an expression you truly loved.

his screen was tear stained and his were graphics broken, yet it was clear enough to see the hypnotizing hearts that pulsated in his eyes as he yelled in defeat, small whimpers leaving his ruined throat as he babbled on and on.

“yours! your—yours! ngh—! please! pl—let me cum! plea—zz—oh, FUCK!”

his whole body trembles from need like electricity burned his skin. his legs fall from your waist, too weak to hold them around you anymore, yet you catch them, pushing the underside of his thighs until he was folded in half.

“cum for me then.”

instantly, vox does as you say as you slip the cock ring off of him, his wails loud enough to shake the room as he finds his release. his screen completely blanks out for a second as a shock flitters around his wrists, frying the cuffs and making them break into two before slumping back down to the bed.

you can’t even scold him for letting his powers go rampant before he pulls you over him, wrapping his arms around you as he sniffles into your ear.

“thank you—hic—thank…thank…”

this big baby. you sigh, rubbing your hands on his sides gently as you kiss his cheek. “yeah, yeah. just remember this the next time you think about acting out, okay?” you said quietly, feeling him nod into your shoulder as he starts to slowly relax.

but as per usual, he apparently forgets what you taught him in the next week.

fortunately, you’re a patient teacher. and you’ll remind him again and again about the lessons he foolishly dismisses.

sorry that this is shit 💀 i tried my best but the writing juices arent flowing this week😭 hopefully this weekend i wont have writer’s block and will blast through all yall’s reqs!! trust me, im working on them <3

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

One of those Days

It's been one of those days for you and you'd love nothing more than a cuddle from your boyfriend Eddie. Except he's away on a trip with his uncle Wayne and won't be back until the next day..

Soft ,protective Eddie, shitty boss, mentions period pains and fluffy/comfort.

Dedicated to anyone who's just having one of those days. Eddie hugs for all of you 🥰

✨💕

You were so tired. It has just been one of those days and all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and not face the world for a few hours.

Work was long and tiring, you were sore and halfway through your period. It made you feel exhausted, snappy and every part of your body ached.

And you missed Eddie so much.

Eddie was away fishing with his uncle Wayne, it was something the two of them had done together since he was a young boy, Wayne loved fishing and Eddie...well it wasn't really his thing but he loved spending time with his uncle.

He had been gone since yesterday and you dearly missed him and Wayne but filled your time hanging with friends and with work and trying to keep your bad periods cramps and aches to a minimum; that had yet to happen.

There was an intense pressure in your head that had been building all day to an almighty headache. All you could think about was your bed and staying in it until Monday. The thought of indulging in some ice cream and your favourite movies was also appealing.

Today was meant to be your day off but your asshole of a boss had no one else to cover the shift and repeatedly called you until you came in to cover the hours.

As soon as you were able to you'd be looking for a new job, this kinda thing had been happening far too often and your boss still treated you pretty badly.

That could wait for a couple of days as soon as you got home later that day you barely had the energy to shower and pretty much just pulled on your comfiest pjs and climbed into bed.

You'd love to be wrapped up in Eddie's arms right now. He always had a way of making you feel better, the two of you were so in sync with each other's emotions that it was easy to know what the other needed right away.

It's with those thoughts that you fall into a deep slumber.

❤️

It's dark in your room when you wake up, your headache has dulled slightly but you're left with that groggy, gross feeling of sleeping far too long.

Wait a minute. You pause as you smell Eddie's cologne and notice that Eddie's arms are wrapped around you. You blink sleepily, thinking it's maybe this a dream. "Eds?" he smiles and kisses your forehead.

Okay so not a dream.

"Hey beautiful" he draws you closer to him and elation fills you that he's really here.

"Hi, I thought you weren't back until tomorrow" you kiss him happily and he returns eagerly, kissing you until you're both breathless.

"We finished up early and uh I kinda drove uncle Wayne crazy because I was missing you so much" you melt at his sweetness and burrow yourself in his arms.

"Are you still feeling shitty sweetheart?" He asks as he strokes your hair, you nod still burying your head into his chest and feel content to lie there for a little while.

"Mmm, work was horrendous too. Jake called me in, and wouldn't stop until I covered the shift even though I told him I was feeling awful" Eddie growls and you hear him muttering under his breath at what he'd like to do to your boss, it makes you smile.

"No you can't kick his ass babe" you giggle while trying to tell him off. It never works, he pouts and looks at you all sorrowful brown eyes and faux innocence.

"Not even a little bit? It will make you feel better" you hide your smile and shake your head.

"Not even a tiny bit. Hopper wouldn't be able to let that slide" he's still pouty but cheers up immediately, then proceeds to look offended once he notices that you're not in his arms and he makes grabby hands at you.

"Princess, I was liking that cuddle" you immediately settle back in his arms and feel content for this first time all day.

"Did you drive uncle Wayne crazy with Dio and Metallica then?" you ask and he smirks impishly at this, he's had this master plan to get Wayne to listen and possibly even like one of his favourite bands.

"He ended up liking Black Sabbath. I told you there was hope for the old man yet" he looks so proud of himself but the expression vanishes when he looks at you, instead now he looks worried.

"Okay, first things first my lovely maiden, we are having a shower and then some of uncle Wayne's delicious mac and cheese yes?"

💕✨

Exactly one hour later you're back in bed with Eddie having had the loveliest shower, Eddie had taken to washing your hair, usually you did it for him but he insisted that tonight he was looking after you.

"Gotta make sure my princess is pampered so you feel better baby"

Now you were having some delicious Mac and cheese while Eddie was telling you about the massive fish he managed to catch.

"I swear sweetheart it was half the size of me. The little shit bit my finger though and went back in the water, shit I fell in after it and almost ruined my vest, wayne thought it was hilarious"

"Poor baby" you soothe. You're perfectly happy listening to Eddie's adventures in fishing. Tucked up in his arms and paying him rapt attention.

Turns out today wasn't such a shitty day after all.

✨

[gatitties]

Hello again my little butterfly 🦋✨

I came to place another order if that's ok! so, the scenario is a One Piece AU, where YN has an arranged marriage with Shanks, who is one of the richest men in town, but even so, YN decides to run away on her wedding day and throw herself off a bridge, but she can't, they find her and the family manages to bring her back to the wedding, Shanks is a man very much in love with YN, the moment he sees the sadness in YN's eyes when she walks up the aisle and puts the ring on her finger Shanks, he decides to conquer her and make her the happiest wife in the world! ( PS: Shanks is in a desperate situation when he learns that his beloved literally decided to throw herself off a bridge rather than stay with him, even little sad :( )

─Shanks x wife!reader

─Summary: you didn't want to be part of that ceremony, but you're not brave enough to run away either

─Warnings: slight mention of suicide attempt, modern AU

Oh hi hi love!! 🫶🏻🦋 you really like angst 😳

You ignored the perplexed looks of people, without stopping or thinking about a second option, you gripped the thin white fabric of your wedding dress harder so as not to trip over it, your shoes had long since disappeared so you could run more comfortably. You didn't want this, you didn't want to marry an unknown guy, no one thought about your feelings? It's not something your parents have the right to play with and you weren't going to let them ruin your life for financial convenience.

The moment adrenaline started to increase when you saw how you were now being persecuted, probably due to the absence in the ceremony that was taking place in the nearby church, you felt bad for the man you had been engaged to, since it wasn't his fault either and you didn't even know him enough to determine that he was a horrible person, but this decision was too hasty and you definitely didn't agree to this.

With your heart in your throat you ran until you tripped over your own sore feet, your breathing accelerated even more when you heard shouts of your name, taking courage again you stood up with a new impetus, although when you noticed how the distance between your pursuers was shortening more and more, your brain began to draw an extreme line in your thoughts.

Would it hurt? Could you die? Well, you were going to see for yourself what it felt like to jump off a bridge just to avoid facing an unwanted fate.

You quickly climbed onto the thick railing, stabilizing yourself standing on it, the next few seconds felt like a blur, like a part of memory that was difficult to remember, the fear of possible death and the indecision that comes with taking a long time to jump into the void made one of the guys chasing you caught you before you did something crazy.

The next thing you know after that, you were back in one of the private rooms of the church, being yelled at by your mother while your father looked on disapprovingly, you didn't care, nothing mattered to you at that moment, you let them go back to put on your makeup, you let them put new shoes on you and they changed the dirty surface fabric of your dress as if you were a doll, lifeless.

The ceremony returned to its course, Shanks waited awkwardly all this time at the altar, and when he saw you appear next to him his heart shattered, you weren't even looking at him, your eyes were lost somewhere far away in this unwanted reality, you lacked any kind of expression. He knew it, he knew how you felt, and yet he felt a little selfish for wanting to be your husband, for wanting to love you unconditionally, this marriage may be arranged, but he admired every drop of courage you poured out to prevent this event, every anger and every fierce response you gave to the first meetings between both families.

"Now… husband and wife, you can kiss each other."

You were both so absorbed in your own thoughts that you barely heard the priest's last words. Shanks was the first to step forward, holding your waist slowly as if he were asking permission and asking if it was okay to do so. You didn't move an inch, your eyes were still lost even when he sealed your fate with a cold kiss devoid of love, at least, lacking on your part.

Shanks knew it wouldn't be easy, that you weren't going to trust, that he wasn't going to receive tons of affection, even looks, he knew you were in a delicate state, after all, you'd rather almost kill yourself than get married.

You didn't bother with his emotions, you didn't bother to ask about his tastes, his hobbies or how his day had been, you just spent the days dead, repeating your routine, your life remained the same in a way, a few more numbers in the account. but in exchange of what? Your freedom and decision. You were hurt, you had been damaged by your own parents, your emotional wounds would not heal overnight and you would refuse to show a modicum of affection until you recovered.

Shanks knew that he would have to sleep alone for months, that an empty house would await him, that all his praise and gifts would be quickly discarded, but it doesn't matter, maybe you didn't look for him or you didn't want him, but as your husband, he would do everything he could to at least help you cope with the situation, he really loves you, but it won't be easy to win your affection because you never wanted this.

Your heart began to heal over time, it took a long time, you decided to completely break the relationship with your family, although before they were the only ones you could turn to, Shanks showed you that he would be there, that despite not being the husband that you chose as such, made you trust him, made you feel loved again.

He wasn't a bad man, he wasn't the most wonderful person in the world either, but he proved to be enough for you to stop feeling that emptiness inside your heart, step by step he managed to break the walls that you built around your emotions, Shanks turned out to be something unexpected in your life, someone you didn't think would be so important and he was able to grant some peace, some happiness back into your life.

Maybe you are not yet ready to accept that he is your husband, but you slowly began to meet someone you could voluntarily fall in love with.

[btsgotjams27]

bust a move | jjk

✨ title: bust a move | ✨ pairing: jk x f!reader ✨ genre/au: smut, pwp, married!au, parents!au ✨ word count: 825 | ✨ rating: m/18+ MDNI ✨ summary: you finally return the favor. ✨ warnings: kissing, groping, oral (m. receiving), handjob, he comes in her mouth (but she spits it out) ✨ a/n: i blame ck jk for this horny word vomit, and also thanks to ck jk for bringing out of my smut hiatus (err--i'm also a little rusty, so forgive me). this is definitely not beta'd, so i'm sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes.

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] previous > busted again

You hum, “G’morning,” inching towards Jungkook, your hand moving to his crotch, but he resists your touch. “What’s wrong?” Brows furrowed and a pout on your face.

He scans your face, eyes dropping down to your chest that’s barely covered by your silk pajama top. “I’m, uh, wet.”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips. “You mean you had a wet dream?” He avoids your gaze, embarrassed at the fact that he still gets them occasionally. “It happens. You have a dick. It’s only normal.”

Jungkook sighs, embarrassment written all over his face as he hides under the covers. You follow suit, joining him under the duvet. “I’m just–I’ve been really horny lately, that’s all.”

Raising an eyebrow, you scoot closer, cupping his face, staring into those starry doe eyes. “Did you know that you can have sex with me anytime you want, and I will probably never deny you?”

He grunts, closing his eyes for a moment, imagining all the things he’d do to you. “Mm…don’t tell me that.”

With another wiggle toward him, your body soaks up his warmth along with the heat that’s encapsulated underneath the duvet. It’s early. 6 AM. Lucky for you, your two littles have decided to sleep in, but you have other things on your mind—mainly returning the favor since he wouldn’t let you suck him off that one time in the bathroom.

“Will you…” You pause, your fingers drawing invisible stars into his sculpted chest, then trace down the center to his chiseled abs. “Let me…you know,” you say softly with a smirk on your face.

“Baby, I’m all yours. I’ll take anything you want to give me.”

Your thumb hooks into the elastic of his sweats, pulling them down over his hips along with his briefs, letting his cock spring free. A soft hiss leaves him when you wrap your hand around his shaft. Stroking him a few times, you love watching him revel at your touch. The noises and staggered breaths has you clenching around nothing.

Jungkook remembers that he can touch you too, kiss you even. His hand grips your waist, then moves to grab your ass, kneading them with desire and lust. The ache for him builds within you, but this is about him.

You bring your lips to his, not letting his moan escape, for fear of little ones bursting through the door. The two of you don’t need to be busted again.

He breaks away from the kiss, molding his lips to the column of your neck and collarbones.

“Kook…” you whimper. “Let me take care of you.”

Pulling back, he sighs with a chuckle, “Okay—sorry, I got a little carried away.”

You draw the duvet, uncovering the two of you. Peering at the door, you make sure it’s closed. But for good measure, you jump off the bed, running to lock the door—just in case.

Running back, you push Jungkook on his back, crawling on top of him, legs on either side. His cock is erect, ready to go. Your mouth envelops his length, sucking the tip as your hand holds his shaft, pumping and twisting at the same time. His fingers comb through your hair, grasping it lightly. You look up and his dark eyes are focused on your mouth then flicks up to meet yours.

He sucks in a deep breath when you take as much as you can in your mouth, drool glistening as you’re bobbing up and down his hard cock. You hasten your pace, licking and sucking like your life depends on it. Popping off, you rub his tip against your tongue. He’s throbbing, quivering. He’s ready to topple over. You take him in your mouth again.

Jungkook sits up. “Baby—baby, I’m gonna cum. I know you don’t like it when I cum in your mouth.”

You love how considerate he is, but you’re mentally prepared for this. “It’s okay. Cum in my mouth,” you say, going right back to your previous position.

Your eyes flick to his, witnessing the subtle ripple effect of pleasure course through his body. His chest heaving, abs tightening, cock throbbing. With a strangled groan, he spills seed into your mouth. It’s warm, salty to taste, but you continue milking him for all he has.

He opens his eyes with worry because the last time he came in your mouth, you gagged not being prepared for him. But you’re confident and composed, calmly getting up, heading to the bathroom sink to spit out the cum in your mouth.

Standing at the threshold, a huge grin spreads from ear to ear and you open your mouth. “See, I’m totally fine,” you chuckle, heading back to bed. You place a kiss on his lips.

“You’re—” Jungkook grunts, “You’re too much for me sometimes.”

You sit beside him. “I’m too much for you?”

He nods, kissing you again.

And like clockwork, the handle on your door is rattling, busting the pair of you.

[factual-fantasy]

One why are you scared of horses and two do you mind if we show you art not fanart like stuff we drew ourselves just a general question?

People are always free to show me what ever artwork they happen to make! :0 I don't mind at all! :}

But if you're wanting to show your appreciation for me/my artwork, don't draw something specifically for that- comments/asks/reblogs are all I want please <:}

As for the horse thing.. you know what time it is?

✨FACTUAL'S RARE VAGUE STORYTIME!!✨

Ok so when I was very smol me and a friend of mine went out into a field that had one big black horse in it.

The horse was allll the way across the field just minding his own business so I figured he probably wouldn't bother us.

Now this field had a pond and a HUGE WALL of blackberries that divided the field in two. Me and my buddy wanted to go to the other side of the pond and explore.. but the literal only way to get there was to carefully trudge through this narrow path that was formed in the blackberry bush wall.

So up we went. Slooowly stepping through this narrow path.. stomping down the protruding spiny blackberry vines and carefully pushing them out of the way with our bare hands. I think we were wearing shorts and sneakers which just added to our slowness and carefulness.

Now picture this, we're almost at the top. There was probably about 2-3 meters left to go before we were finally through the blackberries.. then we hear..

We turn around and the black horse was running up the path towards us. Keep in mind that we were very small, and this very much larger than us, horse was not stopping. He was absolutely going to mow us over.

"thumpthumpthumpTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP"

We. freaked. out.

We scrambled as fast as we could up the rest of the path, tripping in the blackberries and getting cut, screaming all the way-

We made it through just in time and stood flat to the fence. The horse made it through right after us and then jumped around and kicked his feet in the air, nearly nailing my friend in the face.

After a moment the horse stops jumpin around and just kinda looks at us. My friend and I have jello legs and are scared out of our skin-

So for several hours, tiny me and my tiny friend slowly wandered around the space behind the pond. Blubbering and shaking the whole time. With this giant black horse just kinda following us around and sniffing us.

We were terrified of this horse, and we wanted to go back to the house asap- but the only way back was through that narrow spiny path. We didn't want to risk the horse chasing us again..

Eventually an adult came looking for us and was calling out our names. The horse got spooked by them and ran through the path and back out into the field. The adult came up and escorted us through the berries and back to the house.

So anyways, since that day I have learned that horses are way more scared of you than you are of them. All you gotta do is wave your arms around and scream and they'll run. But even so, I don't go out in the field without the scary adult or horse expert by my side. And I'll only feed or pet them through the fence. I am just forever spooked by horses <XD

We found out later that the horse was just playing. Seeing us and running up to greet us and to jump and play! Only for us to be completely spooked and not really engage with him. Causing the horse to kinda sniff us and follow us around like "?? :0 Play? Hm?? <:0 What happen? (Sniff sniff) We're having fun? Play..?? Why not look at me...? So slow..??🤨"

[fairly-linked]

Nightmares ✨ (Time x GN!Reader)

Whew, okay. I feel like everyone needs a break from the dark ass yandere shit (especially after that Twilight one, my god)

So here! Have some fluffly shit instead! ✨✨✨✨

Enjoy!✨

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Darkness.

That was all he could make out, other than laughter in the distance. It was pitch black, to a point that Time could hardly see the outline of his hand in front of his face no matter how close he held it; but somehow, he could tell by the whispering of the wind in the trees that he was in a forest.

The laughter he hears is not a voice he recognizes. At least, he thinks it's not. But he isn't too sure. It almost sounds like...

A very familiar scream sends a freezing chill down his spine. One that sounds just like you...

His heart drops into his stomach and it suddenly becomes hard to breathe. This laughter from the other person, twisted and maniacal...

Was that Zelda's voice...?

As panic and confusion begin to course through him, he rushes to the source, fighting away stray branches and bushes and stumbling over his own feet a couple times.

He reaches a clearing, one with water nearby. He can hear the water of a stream, although he can't see it; but what he can just barely make out is two figures against a tree.

That voice has to be you. It has to be. There's no one else it could be...

...And the height of the other person matches Zelda's. As he catches a glimpse of her crown and the blade in her hand glittering in the starlight, it confirms his suspicions.

"Zelda? What is happening here?" he questions, trying to mask the fear in his voice as he speaks to the woman he once thought was an ally and trusted friend.

He'd better not have to choose between you two, but if it's necessary...

...He determines then and there that his choice would be you, in any scenario.

"They're a problem, Link," Zelda states with disgust bleeding through her voice, pressing the blade against (Y/n)'s neck.

"Zelda, hang on. Tell me what's going on," he demands, trying to hide his anxiety and confusion. He unsheathes his sword, should the princess make any sudden moves.

But he's so confused...

...The princess was normally so levelheaded, so calm. As far as he knew, she'd never even met (Y/n); but before, he'd had no doubts that Zelda would adore them.

(Y/n) was a wonderful person. He and the princess had the same senses when it came to telling a good person from bad...

...Or at least, he thought they did, which is why he couldn't wrap his head around her motives.

"...They're a distraction for you, Link. For you and every one of your little apprentices..." she hums condescendingly, pressing the blade more. (Y/n) lets out a hiss, and even with as dark as it is right now, he knows Zelda's hurting them.

"Zelda, enough! Step back, and let's talk about this."

Zelda pauses. She doesn't move, but he just barely catches the glint in her eyes as she glances at him.

"...There's nothing to talk about, Link."

Zelda draws the sword upward, preparing to strike. Sheer terror courses through his entire being as he lurches forward, screaming as he reaches for (Y/n), who reaches back for him in their final moments.

"No!!!"---

Time jolts violently as if he'd hit the ground. Scrambling to sit up and take in his surroundings, his heartbeat begins to slow as he realizes he's back at camp. All the other boys are asleep, with the exception of Sky, who'd taken watch.

Time places a hand to his chest, bowing his head as he tries to steady his heart rate and return to the present.

Goddammit, another nightmare... It was all just some horrible nightmare....

Sky frowns, walking up to him slowly.

"Are you okay?" the meek hero says softly, concern in his gaze as he stands next to Time.

The old man, still breathless, nods as he looks up at the younger hero.

"I... I am alright. Simply a nightmare..."

...Time says nothing more on the subject.

Sensing that the old man didn't want to talk about it, Sky nods. Time looks down, sighing in relief as he sees you lying next to him and beginning to stir. He places his hand on your head, rubbing your forehead gently with his thumb.

"...Time?" you mumble, rubbing your eyes.

"Shh, I'm here, dear. Sorry for waking you."

"...Are you okay? I felt you tossing and turning..." you say so sweetly the old man thinks he might melt.

...Had it been so bad that he was rolling over in his sleep? He sighs a little.

"I am alright, my love. I'm here. Everything is okay..."

You pat the spot on the ground next to him, urging him to lie back down with you. He obliges, his body still exhausted from broken sleep; but he's slightly confused when he sees you scoot upward, to where his head lies by your shoulder.

You let out a yawn, opening your arm for him to come closer and rest on you. His eyebrows raise in surprise; but he doesn't deny you your wish.

He moves closer, allowing his head to rest on your chest. Your arm on the side he's lying on comes up to cradle his head, your hand stroking his hair, while the other holds his hand.

He rests one of his arms over your waist, and for the first time in a long while, he allows himself to relax against you, sighing contentedly as your hand in his hair causes him to feel like drifting off again.

This... feels nice. Now he knows why you love it so much when he does it...

It isn't long at all before sleep overtakes him again. In his half-asleep state, he hears you mumble a soft "Sweet dreams".

The last thing he feels before he drifts off to sleep in the warmth of your embrace is your lips on his forehead.

[steam-beasts]

And how do diesels work in your Au

(I'm almost new and I barely know the ttte blogs and yours appeared and I found your ideas interesting and very original and I'm more interested in the diesel section, can you tell me a little, sorry if It sounds like an annoyance, I would just like to know a little and I like it 🤜✨)

Thanks

I found the image but I inserted it just in case

Aw thank you! 😊

I mainly don't draw diesels very often because I personally find them difficult to draw. But here's a bit of info:

Diesels, unlike steamies, don't have fur (apart from Rusty). They're all very lizard like in appearance, with the skin on their faces also having scales.

They have all developed this gland in their mouths that allows them to squirt acidic diesel oil to put off enemies, and can use their tails to whack you.

Some diesels, like Mavis, can climb steep rocky terrains with ease to reach food in a high place. For food, they're just as carnivorous as the steamies, but they also eat rocks, rubbish, and drink diesel fuel (or water). The acidity in their stomachs is so high that anything plastic or rock solid can melt in there. Steamies have this too.

Diesel 10 specifically is a big boi. He's a mix between a saltwater alligator, a freshwater alligator, and a kimodo dragon. The infection amped up his hostility, or...territorial behaviour to a 100. He IS tameable and lets the humans check up on him. He's very aggressive towards any engine, and not even the other diesels want to go near him.

P.T Boomer and him are best friends, and the old guy secretly takes him out for a drive when no one's around.

Lastly, a baby diesel is called a chick :)

[neutron-stars-collision]

Deadlines & Commitments

Neil x F!Reader

Chapter 6 - Canada Water Underground Station

Masterlist; Chapter 5 Summary: Neil shows you just how well he can take care of you. As the night at your place takes a turn, you both need to adjust to the slight change in the dynamic. Warnings: Explicit content, and I mean it; swearing; slight angst. Author's Notes: Okay, so I'm a day earlier than I thought but since barely anyone reads this anyway... *shrugs* might as well. This is 10+k of smut and then another 3k of mental spiralling (thanks to Duran Duran), to make things more entertaining :)) It's been a while since I wrote scenes like this and it proved to be a challenge but I do hope I delivered. One thing is certain - these two definitely were into whatever I envisioned in my daydreams ✨ Without further ado, I'm leaving you with another 14k of words. The motivation for this story fluctuates like crazy but for now, more is coming. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think? 💕 Taglist: @hollandorks, @kristevstewart, @stargirl25 (let me know if you want to be added)

Although it was far from the very first time you had a gorgeous man kneel before you with a promising smile on his face and a determination to cure your ails through the sheer force of a good orgasm, it might have been the most memorable one.

If only just because of Neil’s eyes, staring into the depths of your soul as he carefully took off your underwear, simultaneously laying kisses on the expanse of your calves, knees, and thighs. In some shades of the light, you would swear his eyes were twinkling.

At first, you wanted to look away, hoping it would help your case. Make it seem less meaningful in this unspecified way that you could not and would not dissect for months. Soon, you found that you simply could not look away. Instead, you looked on, letting his tender caress arrest your senses and instantly put you back within that fuzzy space of mind. Once he took off your panties, Neil glanced up to meet your gaze, that dangerous smile still hiding in the corners of his mouth. His hands continued the journey, pulling up the dress for easier access, all the while driving you another step closer to madness with perfectly laid kisses, burning the tender skin of your inner thighs. Before you could even think of anything to say, he broke the heavy silence:

“You’re beautiful,” the certainty in his voice, as if stating a fact not unlike the existence of the forces of gravity, made you feel lightheaded.

Sure, it was something you had heard before. Maybe even often. But that didn’t mean you believed it. The notion scratched at the edges of your insecurities, never quite managing to scrape them away. Usually, it fell way off.

“See, I don’t know if I should take that seriously” stumbling through the sentence with a breathless voice, you subtly shifted your hips on the sofa and pointedly glanced down at Neil with what you hoped was ferocity, “Considering what you’re about to do to me,”

From his vantage point, with his hands pinning your thighs to the couch, legs wide open with everything on display, the point was more than evident. You could tell Neil caught it with how that light pink spread over his cheeks again, painting a fascinating contrast.

“You should,” drawing mindless circles on your kneecap as if to buy his time, Neil added, “I’ve thought it since I first saw you. It just didn’t seem the right thing to say back then” he shrugged, daring to put forward another mind-blowing concept.

Another fact undeniable only to him. As if desperate to make talking even harder for you, Neil took the pause as his chance to drop his gaze from that respectable position, wandering over your face to stare at the apex of your thighs with nothing but hunger in his eyes. You swallowed hard, feeling the arousal spread through your veins like wildfire.

“And now?” the question was all you could manage, driven by the remains of sanity that considered this answer essential.

As if it would change anything at all.

“Now I’m hopefully going to make you feel really good, so… There aren’t many lines left to cross” Neil glanced up at you again, that same confident smile acting as both a warning and an enticement, luring you in.

As if aware of your increasingly muddled state, he let go of your knee to squeeze your hand and grinned. There was nothing more you felt capable of saying. Or doing, except to drop your head back on the sofa headrest and let Neil do whatever the fuck he wanted.

Which was to trace an invisible line up the expanse of your right leg to that place between your thighs, that was already drenched because of him. Even that ghostly touch burned your skin as Neil carefully parted your folds with the tip of his index finger and dragged it through the slick. Muffling a groan by forcefully biting your lower lip, you closed your eyes. You were already on fire.

“Is this all for me?” the wonder in his voice, combined with just enough smugness to make you consider punching Neil in the face, was another reason to drown in the embarrassment.

Although, drowning in need was a close second with how Neil slowly mapped out his terrain, spreading the wetness over your slit and around the entrance. Preparing you for what he had in mind.

Before you knew what you were doing, your hand had found its way to the nape of his neck, lightly playing with the hair ends and pressing against the warm skin. The contact acted like an anchor, assuring you of the realness of the situation.

“Yeah, but don’t get too cocky about it,” the end of what you hoped to be a warning never quite landed as it was immediately followed by a gasp.

A consequence of the fact that Neil decided to use that exact moment to delve in. His warm breath fanned across your bare skin as he settled between your thighs with a simple comment:

“I’ll do my best” the tail end of the quip was followed by the first experimental lick through your folds, the tongue lightly dragging through the sensitive skin.

You choked on a curse, fingers of the occupied hand already tangling in his blonde locks. Your other hand gripped the sofa edge hard enough that you worried it would leave indents in the material.

Neil took that sound as a cue, repeating the move till you could barely stay still. Keeping your hips pinned to the couch with one arm slung across your thighs, he swirled his tongue over your heat, collecting the arousal as if he was dying of thirst. Just when you thought he would offer respite, he dragged the tip of his tongue up towards your clit and focused the attention on the spot that had you crying out loud.

It was easy to let go then. To keep your eyes closed when Neil’s thoughtful manoeuvres and skilled tongue attacked your senses with an intensity that soon made it impossible to think or speak. Resorted to incoherent mumblings and moans, you tugged at Neil’s hair with force, making him groan. The sound went straight to your core, shooting like a live wire through your body and making you tense up. He was good at this. Not that you ever doubted he would be. He listened and used the cues available to go where you needed him, interchanging between lapping at your heat and sucking your clit. Like a scholar dedicated to his study. Like a devoted believer praying at the altar of his God.

Or goddess, apparently.

You could feel the knot in your lower stomach tighten, that wave of pleasure getting close to unbearable with every second. An attempt at speech only got you as far as a breathless admission, interrupting the silence filled with nothing but your shameless screams:

“I’m so close” it was merely a fact, something he could discern from the force of your grip over his hair or the way you quivered, barely able to keep yourself together, “Neil, please just-”

You did not even know what you were asking for. Something. Anything.

He knew anyway. You felt a comforting touch, a careful hand tracing invisible circles on the skin of your outer thigh as Neil took a break to glance up. Your eyes snapped open at the interruption, meeting his gaze as if following a sense you had no label for.

Much later, you would wonder whether that, the connection so alike the first time your eyes met over the carriage floor, could be something different than a trick of light. Something substantial. Something terrifying.

But, back then, you could only stare back. Vulnerable and at his mercy, yet not scared of the prospect. As if able to read your mind or the incoherent ramblings resembling scatterings of thoughts, Neil shot you a grin. His lips and chin were glistening, coated with your slick. The sight was enough to make you clench around nothing and shudder. Your body wound tight still.

Whatever Neil saw in that moment of silence must have been what he was searching for. Your eyelids fell close when you felt him dive in again, the talented lips enveloping your heat without a second wasted.

Before you could as much as let yourself immerse in the steady rise of pleasure, in the exact feel of his mouth at the most sacred of places you could offer, he took it that one step further. Delivering the deathly stroke with the tip of his tongue, prodding at your entrance, and penetrating it without mercy. It was too late to try muffling the cry torn out of your throat without warning. Christ. You could only attempt not to rip the hair from his head as you tugged at the blonde locks and tried to get him closer. Tried to do what you always did and take what you wanted.

But Neil would not let you, his grip unyielding over your hips, keeping you pinned to the sofa. Keeping you spread out and helpless as he dragged you over the precipice with the tenderness of his touch and the determination of a man desperate to do well. Desperate to serve.

“Oh, fuck,” the curse carried on a moan in that last flash of coherence before the edges of your vision darkened, and your spine rose in an arch, unable to hold still anymore, “I’m-” the thought, whatever it was meant to be, was never finished.

Instead, it got replaced with a litany of his name, whispered with the tint of ecstasy, colouring the vowels and consonants. As if you had nothing else to say. No one else to praise. Just Neil. The wave of pleasure crashed into you without subtlety, its force rendering you numb as you quivered beneath his tongue and under his firm hands. Neil held you as you shook, licking you clean as if he did not want to lose the taste of you from his tongue for hours to come.

When the orgasm started fading, and you felt your body relax again, falling limp against the cushions, you opened your eyes. The hazy vision blurred the edges of your living room, making it seem soft and pliant. Unreal. With a quiet sigh, you glanced down just in time to see Neil raise his head and meet your gaze.

He painted a picture, as always. The blonde strands fell into his eyes, and the sharp cheekbones bathed in pink blush as his lips curled into a smirk. That sudden spike of desire to grab his tie and pull him into a kiss, to learn what your taste feels like on his tongue, was hard to fight against. It made you curl your hand into a fist, focusing on the shade of blue in his eyes. Until you could take another breath. Until your heart rate slowed down. Until everything felt real.

Until you knew what was happening next.

As if aware of the internal crisis, Neil stayed quiet. He observed you with almost unnerving stillness before seemingly finding what he was looking for and letting your legs close with a final kiss on the kneecap. He propped his chin on your thigh, almost resembling a perverse image of a lapdog that you had no idea you were into before now. Curious.

“Everything alright?” the huskiness of his voice swept over your senses like a chilling breeze, waking you up from a trance.

What a silly question. As a preamble to an answer, you shot Neil a wide grin, aware of the madness still clearly visible in your eyes. It hardly mattered.

“Even better” dragging your fingers through his golden mane, you relished in the slight tremble of his hands as Neil settled them atop your thighs. Now it was time to give praise where it was due, “I always knew you’d be good at this, but… fuck’s sake,” that was as far as intelligence went, replaced with a groan that doubled as a dreamy sigh.

It still barely covered what you wanted it to. But Neil knew. It was visible in the pleased smile and the knowing glance thrown your way from his spot at your feet. Almost lazily, his tongue darted out to lick his lips clean of your arousal. Without breaking the eye contact. Of course.

You could hardly ignore the fact that you were wet again. Still, that is.

“I aim to serve, m’lady” squeezing your thigh, Neil got up from his knees to sit by you on the sofa.

He stayed close, and that proximity, complete with the undiminished hunger in his eyes, told you all you needed to know. A push in the right direction.

“Yeah, you do” offering Neil a sly smirk, you shifted so that you were facing him and reached out to grab his tie and pull him close. Just like God intended. Probably, “Come here, I need to-” that sentence had no end prepared, so you sealed it with a kiss.

Your lips covered Neil’s with a self-explanatory intent as your tongue teased and prodded until he opened his mouth and let you in. That first taste of yourself coating his tongue was a revelation. It made you groan, motivating you to rise on your knees and climb into his lap without breaking the kiss. That second of hesitation following the bold move was eradicated when Neil pulled you closer with his hands on your waist. He kissed you as if his life depended upon it, swirling his tongue around yours and mapping out the inside of your mouth. A rush of blood to your head was the reason why you decided to switch it up, lightly scraping your teeth over his bottom lip and pulling until you got a response. The answering growl, reverberating through his chest, ignited the sparks burning out in your blood. Now you knew what you needed to happen. The realisation made you pull back with a final peck upon his parted lips and open your eyes.

Neil’s wrecked gaze felt like a boost to the system, increasing your confidence. It was a reason why you comfortably settled in his lap and regarded him with quiet contemplation. Returning the earlier look.

You tried not to dwell on how different it felt, unhurried and deliberate like none of your previous hook-ups. How uncomplicated it all seemed, with Neil’s steady gaze and firm hands holding you still. How unavoidable you had deemed it to be a long time before. You tried and failed, burying the thoughts behind a wall of sensations and feelings. You hoped they would never resurface again. Somehow.

“Good?” Neil’s question made you start, instantly pulling you back from the abyss in your head.

The surprise must have shown on your face, for Neil followed the question by brushing his nose against yours, tenderness permeating every glance and gesture.

It was almost too much.

“Great” aware of the shakiness of your smile, you splayed your hand over the expanse of his chest, feeling the heartbeat.

It was both a distraction and searching for confirmation. A confirmation that you were not about to make an idiot out of yourself.

The rapid beat beneath your hand erased the doubts, helping you make that decisive move. Meeting Neil’s questioning gaze, you smiled. The edge of your grin turned sharp at the mere thought. Before he could catch the meaning, you got up from the sofa and reached out a hand towards Neil. Extending an invitation.

You could see the quick calculations behind his stare, the blue eyes switching between your extended hand and the enigmatic expression. Although the silence felt eternal, it only lasted a beat. Without another word, Neil took your hand, enlaced your fingers in a loose hold, and stood up from the couch. The certainty in his gaze made it easy to start leading him towards the room down the corridor. The room he has already seen, albeit not in this context.

At the doorway, you let go of him to turn on the lamp in the corner, bathing the room in a warm glow. Neil crossed the threshold, following you like a ghost. You did not need to tell him to shut the door till only a small gap remained. Or to meet you halfway across the room and pull you back into his embrace like you belonged there.

And tonight, it felt like you did.

One giddy kiss quickly turned into the next and then another after that. Until you were both gasping for breath, needy hands tugging and sliding across the pieces of clothing that were in the way. It was then, midway through an inhale you desperately needed, that you realised there was one crucial thing left to settle. One question that you owed Neil:

“Before I make a fool of myself… Do you want this?” settling your hands on his shoulders, you met Neil’s gaze with what you hoped was a coherent enough look.

You could tell the question surprised him from the way his eyes widened, hands wrinkling your dress over the hips with a tight grip. But the pause only lasted a second.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t” the confidence was striking, almost fatal in how well it fit his beautiful face. The angles softened by the warm light, and the smugness still felt lethal, threatening to cut you open if you kept on being reckless. You pushed the warning to the back of your head, focusing on the look in Neil’s eyes, “I want you. So much it drives me crazy” the admission completed the desire in his gaze.

Its simplicity drove a shiver up your spine and bloomed heat on your cheeks. While it was nothing you have not anticipated, hearing it said so plainly drove the point home. It offered no space to bargain for insecurities and doubts. As much as you still did not know the expiration date on this precious, lovely thing between you, now you knew where it was going. You knew the drill. The logic of it. Need, want, desire. Yearning to have another person, claim them as your own, just for one night. Just until you felt whole again. One night should be enough.

Right?

Instead of addressing that thought, you smoothed out the creases in Neil’s tie and met his gaze with indifference. (At least outwardly).

“Fab. I’m glad we got that sorted” giving the Windsor knot a final pat, you shot Neil a smile.

Slowly, with his grounding touch running over the sides and down to your hips, you could feel the temperature rise again. The increase was steady, not yet overwhelming like before on the sofa, but it was very much there. It made your gaze wander, trailing down the column of his neck, begging to be kissed and bitten, to the expanse of his chest, still hidden by the frustrating layers of cotton and linen. You desperately wanted to get your hands on him. Properly.

“Do you?” the question caught you by surprise, making you look up to see Neil’s searching gaze.

Your brain muddled with want, needed another second to understand what he meant. Only then disbelief took the stage, with the bewilderment in your eyes. What kind of stupid question was that?

“Obviously. I’ve only been eye-fucking you for months” that was an understatement.

But it hit the mark, with a hitch in his chest and a subtle move of hands on your hips pulling you a fraction closer. Enough so there was barely space left between your bodies, and you could just about feel the effects of your words and actions on Neil. At least the physical side of them. A glance down, below his belt, confirmed the suspicions and made you grin like a wolf that has just spotted its prey for the night.

“Have you now?” the hints of amusement in his voice, still somehow mixed with uncertainty, were enough to put the need aside for one second and meet Neil’s gaze with confidence.

The apprehension, when it came to how you saw him, had no place here. Not when each time you laid your eyes on him, you only found more reasons to be captivated. Not when Neil tended to be the only one you could see when you were together. When he haunted your dreams with beauty and pleasure. No, that wouldn’t do.

Covering his hands with yours, you stood on the tiptoes to kiss him on the forehead. Leaning in, you whispered a simple admission:

“Yes, Neil” you hoped he could tell there was more behind those two words. That he could see the depths of admiration you had never possessed for another person, save for him. That he knew how much you meant every tender compliment and careful touch. It was the most you could offer. The furthest line you would cross. It was high time to return to the crux of the conversation. You did so with a bat of the eyelashes and a smirk on your face, “And now I want you to fuck me. Is that clear?”

Admittedly, the whiplash you served Neil was quite something. He took it with a few seconds of hesitation, a lack of comprehension flashing through his eyes in something resembling the 500 error screen. You fought the urge to burst out in ridiculous giggles. Then, as if his brain finally caught up with your words, Neil blinked. Once, then twice. Blue eyes flashing with inklings of understanding. It was fascinating to watch. To notice the different shades of his iris and then the exact second when yearning replaced the previous confusion and took up reigns.

“Yes, m’am” grinning wide, Neil mimicked a lazy salute and took a decisive step forward, pushing you towards the bed with newly minted drive.

You sure did not mind the initiative, letting him steer you in the right direction until you felt the edge of the mattress hit the backs of your legs. A sudden strike of inspiration made you use the years of ballet and turn on your toes, pivoting you both to reverse the positions. His quiet gasp was an indication that you succeeded. Without another word, you pushed him down to sit on the bed, meeting the bewildered gaze with a grin. It was high time he got used to it.

When you had him where you wanted – seated below you with a gaze full of awe and parted lips, you whispered the only praise that came to mind:

“Good boy,” the effect was instant.

A swallowed groan, complete with an eye roll that was still somehow fond. Before you could react, tease him further, Neil reached out to grab onto your hips and pulled you down, throwing you off balance. There was no point in resisting gravity as you tumbled down onto the mattress with a whoosh and found yourself in his arms. Again. His hands wandered over your body in broad strokes, igniting the fire as you closed the distance and captured his mouth in a kiss.

One kiss stretched into another and one more still, spanning minutes and seconds until you were both gasping for oxygen. Until all you could taste was Neil, and all you could feel was his touch. Between one sharp inhale and the next, you placed a kiss on the edge of his mouth and started trailing pecks down the column of his neck, making Neil shiver and moan. Each kiss was sealed with the tiniest bite, barely reddening the tender skin and a reconciliatory lick so you could satiate the desire with his taste. Just a little bit.

His exploring hands crept beneath the hem of your dress again, pulling up the fabric and creating goosebumps on your thighs. There was no guessing what it meant. Ending your intensive study with a lingering bite over his pulse point, marking him for everyone to see, you leaned back far enough to meet Neil’s gaze. You offered him a subtle nod and sat up, twisting so he could see the zipper running down your spine. The message was clear. He caught it with a knowing smirk, lightly brushing away the hair falling over the nape of your neck. The tremble in the wake of his touch had to be disguised with a sigh.

Even now, Neil was gentle. One of his hands settled on the back of your neck, stroking the delicate skin with unnecessary care, while the other tugged at the zipper, slowly undressing you. That first hit of colder air in the apartment was a shock to the system, making you inhale sharply. The sound alerted Neil. His hand skirted down your spine to warm up your skin revealed beneath the dress. Now, you could not do anything about the shivers rocking through your body in an embarrassing display. Before you could even attempt to fill the silence with another dose of bullshit, Neil pulled the zipper all the way down to the base of your spine and slipped his hand inside the dress. The warmth of his palm against your bare stomach felt like a burning flare, putting your soul alight. Sucking in the air sharply, you pressed your back to his chest, seeking out more.

The intimacy of the moment could not escape your attention. The slow pace and conscious decisions to get to know each other first were something new. Something unheard of as far as your hook-ups went. There was no rush in tearing off the clothes and getting off as far as possible to avoid the thoughts catching up. Instead, there was Neil’s hand against your midriff and his mouth against the back of your neck, gently biting the sensitive skin and making it impossible for you to detach from the present moment. Not that you wanted to.

When he deemed it right, Neil leaned back and slipped the dress off your shoulders. A sudden uncertainty took root in your heart, like a bad seed eager to corrupt the rest of the crops. What was about to happen seemed substantial somehow. Despite the improbable nature of the idea that Neil could take one look at you naked and decide that you were not worth his time, the concept was still there. It replaced the previous bravado, making you exhale shakily before standing up and turning towards him, holding up the article of clothing to keep it from falling.

You knew there was no point in fooling yourself that Neil did not catch on to your hesitation. Not with the way he always saw right through whatever posturing you tried to attempt. You met his gaze, aware of the extent of damage to the reputation it would do. All you found looking back at you was his silent reassurance, trying to keep you anchored. Inhale. Exhale.

Before your brain could become a little bitch again, you relaxed the hold over the fabric, letting it fall to the floor. You had nothing to hide behind, having left the bra back in the dressing room and your underwear on the floor of the living room. The chill in the air made you tremble, barely resisting the urge to cover up.

Neil’s gaze remained steady as he took you in. His eyes roamed over your body, noting the curves and edges, imperfections, and flaws. That fear was still there, making you tighten your hands into fists. Neil closed the gap, taking both your palms into his and relaxing the muscles. Taking a deeper breath, you risked meeting his eyes. The blue depths lured you in, showing nothing but affection and infatuation. For reasons unknown, the look felt dangerous in way you could not describe. So, you stared back, ignoring the desire to fill the stifling silence with words that could not be taken back.

As always, Neil proved to be the braver one.

“Are you alright?” his soothing tone complemented the gentle touch of his hands running up your bare arms to rest over your shoulders.

Even now, Neil proved to be shockingly respectful. His eyes never strayed from yours and although he had all rights to touch you as he pleased - he did not. Something in his gaze told you this was a given for Neil. A rule he would never even consider crossing. The realisation helped you find your voice again.

“Always,” the wavering tone did nothing to create an illusion of nonchalance.

But then, it was too little too late, anyway.

Upon Neil’s searching gaze, you nodded. It must have been what he was looking for because the next thing you knew, he was placing a lingering kiss on your lips and letting his hands wander. At first, tentatively down the centre of your chest and over the heart, beating so fast you would swear even Neil could hear it pounding in the silence. Then, he got braver, palms cupping your breasts and tracing the pink areolas, making you gasp and tense. If his hand delved between your thighs, you knew he would find you dripping wet.

But he didn’t. Instead, Neil mapped out the constellations of freckles and beauty marks over your chest and stomach while massaging your breasts and stoking the fire burning underneath your skin.  When he first tweaked your nipple, the resulting moan made you clamp your mouth shut with your hand and stare at him in silent horror. There was no room for aloofness and detachment here. No space to pretend you were not bothered. And that was terrifying.

Yet, the most terrifying moment came a little later when Neil had you spread out beneath him on the bed. He was still wearing clothes, and it was a fact that would have caused much more annoyance had he not just finished leaving marks over your chest, kissing, and biting all the sensitive spots. Your panting mouth was still parted on a gasp when Neil released your nipple with a wet pop and moved back up to meet your gaze. Like this, with his cheeks permanently coloured pink and lips red from the kisses you did not seem able to stop trading, he was exceptionally breath-taking. Your chest heaved as you attempted to formulate any words, but before you could succeed, Neil broke the silence:

“You’re beautiful” it was an echo from maybe an hour before, uttered with even more reverence.

The effect was strengthened by the look in his eyes, roaming over your face with something akin to worship.

Worship you were not worthy of. Never. And especially not by Neil, who, without a shadow of a doubt, deserved better. The thought was not anything new, yet it acted like a bucket of ice-cold water, wiping off the dreamy haze you had settled into. Oh, so stupidly.

Suddenly, the rightness of it all seemed wrong. Skewed in a direction you did not dare ponder. Because yes, Neil was the right one, the one you desperately needed to have. Even if just once. But not like this. Not with all those feelings and monumental thoughts that strayed too far from the comfort zone. No, you had to act. Had to remind both Neil and yourself what was going on here. Who you were supposed to be.

Swallowing past the inexplicable lump in your throat, you sat up and pushed Neil up with your hands around his neck. It was much easier to breathe like this, no longer entirely at his mercy. With his blue eyes peering at you with curiosity, you settled your hands on the buttons of his vest and smirked:

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” now that sounded more like you.

It was a perfect opener, instantly eliciting a reaction in the form of widened eyes and parted lips. Neil stared at you for something close to thirty seconds, which proved that it was the last thing he expected you to say. But then, just as you dared undo the first button of his vest, he grinned. That wolfish smile which haunted your sleepless nights flashed at you with an edge of something dangerous hidden beneath. Something you wanted to discover.

“Then do something about it, Cupid” Neil shot you a wink and leaned back on his elbows to strengthen the point.

The point that you were allowed to do whatever you wanted to him. There was no need to say it twice. You undid the rest of the buttons on his vest, pushing the garment down his shoulders and letting Neil shrug it off till the garment landed on the floor. It had served its purpose. Definitely.

Loosening up the tie was the easy part, and as you took it off over his head, you paused with the burgundy accessory in hand. The second of hesitation did not go unnoticed.

“What’s up?” Neil’s cautious tone made you grin as you looked up to see him peer at you with curiosity and alarm in equal proportions.

Wrapping the tie around your fist to keep the accessory as a needed prop dressing in the scene, you shrugged:

“Nothing. I’m just thinking about the different ways I could use this on you” the twinkle in your gaze was unmistakable for what it suggested.

There sure were ideas. Tones of them, and one better than the other. Images like wrists bound together with the tie or the burgundy fabric used as a blindfold were only a start of what you could concoct at the spur of the moment. The ideas alone made you shiver with anticipation.

Even more so when you saw Neil’s blank gaze, staring at the very topic of the conversation with something that could only be described as revelation. It dawned slowly as his pupils dilated, and the darkness consumed the blue irises. Licking his lips thoroughly as if already feeling the effects of what was about to happen, Neil raised his head and met your gaze.

“Now?” he sounded breathless, tongue stumbling even over a one-word question.

You buried the wave of affection under a dry chuckle, focusing on unbuttoning his shirt with single-minded focus. The tortoiseshell buttons necessitated a certain degree of patience, which you were not sure you possessed. And least of all right now. But, considering that the alternative was doing something stupid like ripping it off him, you did your best. The expletives still came, even if only in the quiet of your mind.

“Next time” once you were halfway done, you looked up and winked.

Was it too much? Probably. It assumed a course of events that you had no right to dump on Neil. Let alone like this. As if it was a given. But hopes were there, traitorously scheming in the unconscious layers of your psyche. Faint wishes that maybe you could have more than a one-night special.

Before you could dwell on the probability of thoughts like these, you broke eye contact again and glanced at your work in progress. With just a couple of buttons left, you could see the perfect canvas - pale and almost unblemished. You rushed through the remaining steps and pushed the shirt down his arms until he took over the task with a smirk and shrugged it off. You did not wait to look where the shirt had fallen as your eyes took in the picture.

He was beautiful in that perfectly imperfect way that tended to catch you unaware. His broad chest narrowed at the waist, presenting just the right amount of musculature. Strong arms drew you like a magnet, and you did not hesitate before letting your hand dart out to skim over his biceps and down the planes of his chest to touch the firm muscles. Neil was watching you intently. His gaze followed your every move as you slowly took him in. Noticing the scattering of beauty marks along the inside of his right arm and the dark, coarse hair covering his torso. Pressing your hand against the centre of his chest, you felt the beat of his heart and the heat of his skin. A strange sense of completion settled in your chest, making the heat bloom on your cheeks. That never happened before, either.

Before you could spiral over that singular, alarming thought, Neil covered your hand with his and asked:

“Better than the picture?” although the smug smile graced his features, you could sense hesitancy underlining the question.

A fear that you were about to laugh at him or ridicule his looks. As if he wasn’t the most incredible person you’ve seen. As if you were not rendered speechless.

There was no other way to approach it than by acting. Fast.

You glared at him with what you hoped promised no bullshit to be accepted and pushed at his chest till Neil was sprawled on your bed with his head propped on the headboard. He painted a beautiful picture. The only flaw was the infuriating presence of pants, but that had to wait. Just a little longer.

When you had him where needed, you straddled his lap and met his slightly bewildered gaze with a confident smile.

“Definitely,” you nodded, strengthening the statement with a careful touch as your fingers stroked his torso, wandering down till you could lay your palm flat against his abdomen. The trail of darker hair disappearing under the belt acted like a magnet, and you did not even try resisting the pull, “You’re fucking stunning,” sealing the compliment with a kiss was just a formality.

Yet the way Neil leaned into it, kissing you back with the ferocity of that first time on the platform, made your head spin. Somewhere, at the edge of consciousness not presently occupied with the taste of his tongue and the exact way his mouth pressed against yours, you could not ignore the obvious. The fact that it was never like this. No one-night-stand ever felt this deliberate and measured in a way that still incited a fire in your stomach and hunger in your blood. There was something different in how you kissed and let things slowly build up to sex rather than just rushing through every step along the way.

It all led to another thought, a faint realisation that you might have already subconsciously decided that one time with him would not be enough. Even before getting to know what it was like. That thought was not as terrifying as you expect it to be. Still, you ignored it, placing it among the towering piles of things not spoken or thought of until the end of time itself.

The piles were beginning to topple. One by one.

Neil broke the kiss with a telling gasp, shifting beneath you and bumping his hips into yours, drawing your attention back where it belonged. Namely to the darkness of his eyes and the visible bulge below the belt. Your hands almost automatically wandered to the belt buckle, but before you could put them to work, his breathless attempt at speech made you stop:

“I’m not-” you did not need to hear the sentence to understand it.

It was there in the uncertainty of his gaze and the bashful blush on his cheeks. How he still chose to stare at the bedcover instead of you, even when you were in his lap, free to be ogled for all he liked.

It was increasingly clear that Neil was not like that. That he was not like anyone you had ever known.

Ignoring that primal desire to undo his belt right this very instant, you abandoned the task and cupped his face between both hands, forcing Neil to meet your gaze.

“You are. Trust me,” there was no need to make those words sound convincing, for you believed it more than you knew how to express.

You stared as Neil seemingly tried to take it in. His eyes roamed over your features with scrutiny for a beat. He must not have found anything amiss because the next thing you knew, Neil was breaking into a smile and pulling you back into his arms.

Things went a little easier after that when you could fall upon familiar sensations and actions to push you in the right direction. Sure, there still were a couple of hung-ups, like that embarrassingly long pause you stumbled into once you had successfully taken off Neil’s trousers and underwear and could compare imagination to reality. Your imagination fell short. Somehow. Because, as you probably should have expected, Neil had no reason to compensate for anything. In the slightest.

At first, your undivided attention made Neil fall quiet, with the bashfulness threatening to replace the tentative confidence you were beginning to enjoy about him. But that changed when you shook off the hitch and let your hands explore. Your fingers traced the veins on his length as your palm started stroking him with confident twists in the wrist. Then Neil was not able to stay quiet any longer. He groaned, the sound reverberating through his chest as he laid next to you on the bed. Something in his gaze made it impossible to look away as you stroked and touched him, listening to the cues so earnestly provided. Soon enough, you knew what he liked, what moves elicited the moans that shot right to your core, making you squeeze the thighs hard in pointless hopes that it would do something to ease the throbbing want. It didn’t do shit.

As if reading your mind (or simply seeing the need written all over your face), Neil batted your courageous hands away with a pained glare that told you all you needed to understand and allowed his palms to wander. The hand that was previously placed on your hip slid down your naked skin. The places he touched felt like they were on fire, and the sensation grew when you felt his elegant hand delve between your legs again with confidence. Unbeknownst to Neil, that – his beautiful and mouth-wateringly long fingers moving between your thighs and between your folds – was a frequently-featured hit in your nightly fantasies. The reality lived up and surpassed the imagination in this case, too.

A wolfish grin you noticed too late did not warn you of what was coming. Neil wasted no time. His right hand instantly darted to your clit to circle the bud with precision and speed that matched the level of your fever. With him, you found no need to fill the silence with pointless words, instead letting yourself gasp and moan as he met your gaze with a smirk on his face and dipped a finger inside. There was no need to question the wetness he must have found, yet you noted a surprise pass through his face as if that was somehow unexpected. But you had no time to dwell on the thought. That delicious stretch as Neil added the second finger to your entrance wiped all coherence from your head. A loud moan tore at your throat as you shivered, finally feeling something take care of the emptiness at your core. But it wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be till you had him.

His fingers quickly build up a rhythm, with the thumb pressing at your clit just right. Your hands, which had previously idly rested on his chest, ventured up to grasp at his shoulders, looking for support as the pressure rose with overwhelming pace. You were aware of the red lines you were scratching on his back and the pathetic moans and half-swallowed curses that permeated the silence. But you were unable to do anything about them. Not with how Neil knew exactly what to do to make you come. Again.

That lethal strike came when you felt a third digit delve inside. It joined the other two, keeping up the pace and making you scream with pleasure. The perfect fulness could only be replaced with one thing. One sensation that would go beyond it. It was a thought that pushed you over the edge, making you rake your fingers through his skin and squeeze your eyes shut against the force of the orgasm. Only once you felt like you could breathe again, lying lifelessly on the bedding, you opened your eyes again. The smug smile on Neil’s face confirmed one thing – he knew what he was doing. You were but a mere puppet in his hands.

A very willing puppet, one might add.

When you recovered the senses and coherence enough to speak, you met Neil’s gaze and stated:

“I’d like you to fuck me” there was no need to hide behind metaphors and euphemisms when saying it out loud was merely a formality.

Everything before led to it, after all. Every touch, glance, and flirtatious exchange that with Neil was almost too easy. It was what you always wanted, right from that first conversation and the dawning understanding that Neil was too incredible to forget. It was not an accident that ever since meeting him, you had close to no desire to have sex with anyone else, no pull to score another hookup in the bathroom of a club or the apartment of yet another random guy.

No, what you wanted (who you wanted) was Neil.

What you saw in his eyes, looking back at you through the narrow space between your heads, told you that he got the message. The yearning you often thought you saw in his gaze was present now. Along with want that dripped from his hands as they touched your body, tenderly yet with purpose. Neil stared at you as if he never wanted to look away and could not be convinced to. Like you were the only thing he desired. Or at least, you hoped it was like that for him. Too.

“Are you sure?” the pre-emptive question would have been silly was it not so damn endearing coming from him.

It coexisted with his hands skating over every inch of your skin within his reach and his hardening length pressing against your thigh. You had no choice but to offer him a smirk and cup his face to soften the tone. Just a notch.

“Very,” sealing the response with a kiss, you moved closer across the minimal space so that no gap between you remained.

It was easy to hitch your thigh over his hip and take him in your hand to guide him inside. It was easier still to break the kiss with a gasp once you felt him enter you. The sound mixed with his choked breath, sharp and sudden as if even though it was expected, Neil was not quite ready. His hand tangled in the hair at the back of your head, gently holding you close. The other was splayed over your waist, helping to find that perfect angle. He slowly inched inside, taking his time to bottom out, for which you were more than grateful. The pace helped you get accustomed to the feeling of fullness, almost painful yet not at all. The slight discomfort was the wake-up call you needed, a sensation so familiar that you could rely upon it to find your footing. To ignore the feelings and inconvenient thoughts for the sake of this, right here.

It helped you adjust the position, placing your hands on his shoulders for leverage and meet his gaze. A moan upon the feeling of him inside you, filling you perfectly, was muffled with a kiss he incited. It deepened as you opened your mouth for Neil and shifted so that your pelvises were touching. The move made him break the kiss with a telling groan, expressing exactly how it felt. He occupied all your senses, making it impossible to think or do anything but stare back at his beautiful face, now transformed by pleasure.

That first moment, the first sensation of connection when you slept with someone new, often hit like a drug. A dopamine hit, going straight to your brain. A rare sense of completion, especially sweet after months or weeks of pining for someone. It was like that now, too. The sensation of his naked skin touching yours, the heat of his body burning at your cells, and the strange knowledge that at least for the moment, you were one. Bodies and souls joined for one common purpose. Chasing that spectacular high that you knew was in reach now. Only then did you not feel like you were missing something crucial that you would never attain.

“All good?” your silence must have been alarming, for Neil’s question had a tint of concern underlining it.

Only that made you realise he was still as if frozen by uncertainty and afraid to mess it all up somehow. As if that was possible.

That had to be amended instantly.

“Yes,” offering him a slightly manic grin perfected by insanity in your gaze and tender touch ghosting over his beating heart, you added, “You can move now,”

Neil did not need to be told twice. He took your hand in his and started the slow tempo, thrusting with something you could easily mistake for gentleness. Softness you were not used to crashed against the walls built around your guarded heart. For now, they were too weak to cause damage. Thank God.

Tightening the hold over his palm, you raised your joined hands over your heads, looking for something to hold on to. Your other hand found purchase on his shoulder, digging in your fingernails as the pressure rose. The unhurried rhythm made the pleasure fill your veins in slow, consistent waves. You could feel it build up again as your inner muscles contracted, eliciting moans and curses from Neil. Once you knew how to meet him in the middle, you bucked your hips in response, earning a groan that shot straight to your molten core. The sound and the gratification it carried brought a grin to your face. It spurred you on with the promise that you could return the immense satisfaction Neil brought you. That you could make yourself memorable.

That notion inspired you to use the core strength and athletic training and topple Neil without letting you separate. His sharp gasp told you it was the last thing he expected. Good. From your new position astride him, you watched his heaving chest as Neil processed your impish trick. Warm light painted his skin and made his hair look like a golden halo belonging to a fallen angel. An angel worth the fall from the heavens.

Before he could recover fully, you rolled your hips and rose on your knees to fall again in the slightest of moves. It only strengthened the titillation on his face, but it did the trick. His blue eyes blinked awake as his hands found their purchase again, skating over your thighs to rest on your hips. With your subtle nod, he guided you to match the desired tempo.

Like this, with full opportunity to control the pace, you could allow yourself to stare. To take note of the subtle changes on his face. Like the crease between his eyebrows begging to be smoothed out. Or the panting mouth, pink parted lips still red from the kisses. Or the pearls of sweat on his temples and chest, proving that you were doing something right. Proving that perhaps Neil would remember you.

The coil in your lower stomach was tight now, feeling close to bursting and bringing you another orgasm. You could tell Neil was close, too. It was visible in the bliss written all over his face, and the abdomen muscles pulled tight. Your fingers grazed over his chest, drawing mindless patterns and bringing out goosebumps as a reward. As if able to read your mind or feeling the way you constricted around his length, Neil met your haze and raised his hand to place it between your thighs. Thumb on the clit, circling the bud with a rhythm that by now he knew would work. Just like that. Without you ever having to ask.

The realisation alone was why you could not stay quiet any longer.

“Neil-” a pathetic sob interrupted the sentence with no aim in sight, so the rest came out in a rush, barely aware of what you were saying, “You’re perfect,”

It didn’t make the words any less true. Any less real.

But still, it was not something he anticipated. Neil glanced at you, and before he could school his features into a less vulnerable expression, you noticed hints of uncertainty. Something else was there, too, occupying the dark depths of his pupils and shining through the greyish blue of his irises. It was gone before you could identify it, but you considered tattooing the exact shade of his eyes on your skin the morning after. You felt like it might match the shade of your heart tomorrow.

“You stole my line” there was no genuine grievance in the look he gave you, instantly bucking his hips into yours to make you swear and shiver. You were so close now. The edges of your vision were growing fuzzy again as you felt your inner muscles contract and squeeze around him, eliciting another groan and a sigh that matched the words echoing in your head, “Jesus Christ…” it took him another second of composure to find the words that only confirmed your suspicions “Cupid, I’m not gonna-” using his seconds of distraction, you leaned forward to deepen the contact and covered his mouth with yours, interrupting the sentence.

With the kiss, as hungry and devouring as always, you hoped to convey everything you could not tell him. That he mattered. That you were beginning to worry he had ruined you for anybody else. Ever. That although you would try, nothing would ever be the same again.  Neil took the kiss with an eagerness that was still somehow startling. He nipped and licked at your lips, ensuring they stayed red and swollen. Only when another moan escaped the confines of his mouth and made it impossible to continue the kiss, you broke the contact and met his delirious gaze with a smile. You could feel his rhythm stutter and wane as he visibly approached orgasm. There was just one thing left to about it.

“Come for me” although piecing together a sentence was a struggle, the reward in the form of Neil’s muffled curse and full-body shudder was worth it. You watched as his abdomen muscles tensed, and he began thrusting with no rhythm or pace, helping you chase the feeling that was just around the corner. Leaning forward again, you placed your hand over his head and whispered into his ear, “Now,”

The word acted like a trigger. Neil stiffened in your embrace, his hands seeking out your waist and holding tight. Without thinking, you rested your forehead against his and felt him fill you to the brim. Warmth spread through your core, making you clench around him one last time before your body gave in. White sparks filled your vision as you closed your eyes and entangled your fingers in his hair. You could finally let go. A pleasured scream rang through the silence of the room as you collapsed, limbs falling lifelessly against his sturdy form. For a split second of stupid indulgence, you let yourself believe that Neil would always be there to catch you.

But that wasn’t a happy ending people like you wanted. Or deserved.

You were half aware of what came after. Of how your body trembled in Neil’s embrace and how he whispered your favourite nickname repeatedly, filling the word with enough affection to bruise your heart purple. You knew you should cut this short to prevent the inevitable awkwardness that almost always followed as fast as possible. But you couldn’t. Not yet.

Instead, you snuggled into the crook of his neck and inhaled, feeling the ache in your body. It would hurt like a bitch tomorrow, you were sure. But for now, you focused on the steady rise and fall of his chest and the comfort of his hands resting on your naked waist and back. By some miracle, it seemed like Neil was one of the few men who did not mind your desire to snuggle and breathe instead of quickly dismissing whatever transpired between you as an unimportant rendezvous on the timelines of your lives.

Yet, soon enough, you had to break the silence. The best way you knew how.

“You’re such a good boy” as soon as the words left your mouth, carried on a teasing tone, and accompanied by the smirk hidden in his neck, Neil’s comforting touch stilted.

Judging by the hitch in his chest and an ill-disguised cough, he choked on the breath intake. Even in the confused depths of your mind, you had to admit it was rather adorable. And it most definitely did the trick by diffusing the tension caused by the deafening silence and your synched-up heartbeats, which had no right to exist. Not here. Not ever.

“You’re incorrigible” laughter rang through the letters in his response as Neil chuckled dryly and resumed the caress, letting his fingers skim up and down the ridges of your spine.

You never wanted to move again.

That’s why it was high time to do so.

“You love it, though,” the rebuttal was easy to conjure as you lifted on your forearms and slid off his body with an apologetic smile. The gasp at the loss of contact and emptiness that followed was inevitable but also necessary. Laying down on your side so that you could see his face, you spoke, “Damn, that was…” before any accurate adjective could be found, Neil turned onto his side, mirroring your position and met your gaze, striking you mute in the process.

There was something indescribable there. A vastness of emotions you could not decipher without delving into that scary territory of your understanding that was never meant to be breached. Especially not like this. Not right now.

So, instead, you let your eyes take in his beauty, and the fading blush, complete with lips kissed raw and tangled hair. A look so thoroughly labelled as ‘freshly well-fucked’ that no other words were necessary or even advised. Even better so that you were the sole cause and reason. A point of pride, in fact.

“Good?” the joy in his gaze was enough reason to banish the strange thoughts and focus on the fact that his question demanded an answer.

As much as you were almost positive Neil knew just how damn good the sex had been, it still seemed like he wanted to hear it from you. You were happy to comply.

“Very good” a smug grin was complimented by the satisfaction Neil was bound to see in your radiant gaze.

Strengthening the point, you shifted closer to him to place your hand over his heart and winked. It did the job. Neil flashed you a bashful smile and leaned over to press a peck onto the crown of your head. That was an unprecedented act. Something that had never happened before. Terrifying in its novelty.

The realisation was enough to make you sit up and gather the covers to gain at least an illusion of modesty. A glance at the alarm clock told you how late it was, with the digits flashing a remorseful 02:27 AM. It was high time to make a move.

Without waiting for Neil to catch up with the drastic changes in your demeanour, you reached towards the chair next to the bed, where your dressing gown had landed that morning due to marvellous luck and got up to put it on in one, practised move. Only then could you look back at Neil to say:

“I’ll be right back,” sending him a smile that was hopefully neutral enough so that he would not understand the depths of your inner turmoil, you turned on your heel and waltzed out of the bedroom straight down the corridor to the bathroom.

Once the door had been closed, you let out a relieved sigh and met your crazed gaze in the mirror. Your hair was a tangled mess, and your lips were kissed red, telling a simple tale. As were the faint pink marks left on your neck, which would require concealer tomorrow. It was all worth it. You knew as much without having to search your heart. At least now you understood what it was that you craved so badly. How it felt and how it tasted. Now you knew what about Neil made you feel so insane.

And now, knowing all of it, you also understood that just once would not be enough. It couldn’t be.

Armed with that knowledge and the particular pain of realisation that often accompanied those hard-hitting truths concerning interpersonal relationships, you also knew what you needed to happen. You had to do everything in your might to keep Neil close. To ensure you would not lose a dear friend so quickly after gaining him.

As you stared at the bathroom floor tiles, you reminded yourself of the crucial detail that it was all in Neil’s hands. He would be the one dealing the cards. The one deciding what awaited you next. The best you could do was be yourself and not scare him off prematurely. Easy, right?

A quiet scoff answered the rhetorical question as you dried your hands with a towel and turned towards the door again. Now onto the harder part…

If there was one rule you had, one that you never, ever crossed no matter the circumstances, it was that you never stayed for the night or invited whoever you had sex with to stay over at your place. Simple. Except for that first time you had to bring it up with someone new. Like now.

Before you could even consider deciding how to go about it or how to signal what you needed to happen without making the situation painfully awkward, you walked out into the corridor to see Neil standing in the doorway of your bedroom. He was finishing buttoning up the shirt and met your gaze with an understanding smile:

“I’ll get going” no matter how hard you looked, you could not see hurt or grudge in his eyes or in the shrug he sent as he put on the tie and tightened the knot.

That was certainly a relief. A cop-out, but you were not the one to argue with fate when it offered easy wins. But-

“Are you sure?” you had to ask.

Not that you were willing to break the rule, but you had to know that he was okay with it. Because, for some unknown reasons, what Neil felt and thought seemed important in ways you did not begin to understand. It was just a fact.

“Yeah. It’s late anyway” the assured look in his eyes told you there was no point in prodding further. Instead, you watched as he put on the vest and fastened the buttons. Before you could get lost in thoughts, Neil spoke again, “Thanks, though, it was… a very memorable night” the hint of a smile in his voice was clarified by the bright grin he offered.

It was a wild, sharp thing that always felt so right on his face that you wondered how come he was not smiling all the time. Although that could cheapen the effect, you noticed upon a second thought.

The grin almost made you ignore the affection in his gaze. Almost.

“That it was” the blush on your cheeks was no longer as rare an occurrence as you wanted it to be, so you tried to hide it by glancing at the floor instead of holding his all-seeing gaze. The sentiment stayed true, “Message me when you get home?” it was another question that had to be asked although you could not understand why, “So that I know you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere?” because that concern was also something new.

You never cared quite so much. Never before. It was worrying in ways that made you want to hide your head in the sand and never poke out again for fear of the consequences crashing on top of it. But life rarely offered such mercies.

“Of course, Cupid” feeling Neil approach, you looked up in time to see him close the awkward gap between you.

He passed you in the corridor, the cuff of his shirt brushing against your arm as he raised his hand, visibly hesitating. Tilting your head in a silent question, you waited for him to decide. The resolution came in the form of his hand cupping your cheek for the briefest of seconds. The touch was gone before you could react, but the ghost of it stayed behind as you whispered:

“Thank you” it was another sentiment that needed no prompt or inspiration; it was just a fact.

Something that sprung from your heart like an overeager daffodil seedling breaking through the frozen February soil. Too early and bound to freeze before it could ever bloom into life.

“For?” Neil stopped in the doorway to the living room and stared back at you.

The expression on his face was impossible to puzzle out. It almost made everything easier. Easier to risk the freezing for the chance of elaborating on what you wanted him to know.

“Everything, really,” shrugging, you offered Neil a smile.

Not the sharp, dangerous grin he knew too well. No, it was a gentle thing; so ill-fitting of what you thought you understood about yourself.

But perhaps you understood nothing.

Not too long later, you heard him open the door to your apartment and let himself out quietly. You padded to the living room and picked up the used dirty wine glasses and the empty bottle. For a second, you contemplated smashing the bottle against your head to stop thinking. Then you realised the blood loss was probably not worth the passing relief. Probably.

***

Staring at the depths of the coffee in his mug, Neil sighed heavily for the umpteenth time within the past three hours that passed since waking up. Waking up in the new world, he unhelpfully added upon opening his eyes. As if his brain conspired to fuck him over, Neil could not stop thinking about it. About her. And everything that happened. All to the point that he barely slept within the odd four hours he snatched between stumbling into his apartment past 3 AM and waking up with a curse on his lips sometime after 7 AM. There was no sleep to be found after, so he gave up.

Visit to the gym did not cause any miracles either, but at least now he was free to sit on the sofa and stare into space. As if that would help. It is not even that anything was wrong. Or that he regretted the previous evening because he certainly did not. He did not. Everything that happened was something he wanted. Starting from the not-so-smooth seduction and ending with making her come. Three times. Not to be smug or anything. He wanted her. Full stop.

And now, having gotten the taste, Neil also knew that the desire would not stop there. She would not be just a box on a checklist, ticked and forgotten. Cupid was not someone he could forget. Even with the current prognosis, which was not optimistic. Because she laid out the modus operandi from day one. There would be no fantastic love story culminating with a kiss in the rain in the middle of Piccadilly Circus. Not even because of the high risk of being run over by a car.

Yet, still, being an idiot, Neil could not help but think. About her. About their evening. About how it felt. About what he wanted to happen next. All the while knowing that not much could happen beyond it. And nothing without Cupid’s will and desire for it. That knowledge did not help the thoughts or dilemmas playing out in his head.

With another heavy sigh, Neil got up from the sofa and walked over to the radio to put on music. If he was to suffer, he might as well do so with the accompaniment of bops. In the truest meaning of the word. Yet, the algorithm must have held a grudge against him, too, for he barely managed to down the remains of his coffee before trouble started. It all came crashing down with the voice of Simon Le Bon and a song Neil knew too well. Usually, he enjoyed it. Usually, there was nothing particularly stinging about this song. Usually, the opening synths and the bass rhythm did not elicit a groan and make him hide his face in his hands. Usually.

‘And you wanted to dance, so I asked you to dance

But fear is in your soul

Some people call it a one-night stand

But we can call it paradise

Don't say a prayer for me now

Save it 'til the morning after’

When the bridge came, along with the final chorus of the damned song, Neil was seething. Be it with rage or utter frustration. The accuracy of what was so beautifully sung by Duran Duran did not escape his attention. Or the fact that this was the first one-night stand he could not just let go. The first time, Neil was wallowing in self-pity and confusion at the state of his feelings and thoughts because of a hook-up.

Or what was supposed to be just a hook-up.

The problem was Neil was beginning to worry it was not just that. That it couldn’t be. And it was a terrible realisation to have. It made him want to be hit by a car on Piccadilly Circus. Or on the Oxford Street. He was not picky.

Quietly cursing every star on the firmament and the sparks in Cupid’s eyes, he reached for the phone and automatically opened the text conversation with the woman in question. Their last texts offered no respite from the suffering with how she bid him a good night after Neil informed her that he had found his way back home unscathed. It took him another two minutes to get his shit together and dial the number with a press of the correct icon on the screen.

Feeling the heartbeat in his throat as he awaited her to pick up the call, Neil stood up from the sofa and began pacing the living room. The seconds stretched into infinity, almost making him talk himself into ending the attempt and blaming the call on a mistake. Before he could act on the cowardice coursing in his veins, the click on the line followed by her voice acted like a heavy curtain, shutting off every doubt and uncertainty until all that remained was Cupid:

“Hi,” the breathlessness in her voice made it seem like she was not anticipating the call.

As if it caught her by surprise. Neil winced against the observation, forcing himself to reply.

“Hello. How are you?” even to his ears, the innocent question sounded strained.

It betrayed the motifs before he was ready to disclose them. His pacing has brought him to the window, so he stayed there, leaning against the sill.

An intake of breath from Cupid broke the silence before she replied:

“Good, great even. Achy as fuck, but then I got up to stuff last night, as you’d know” the slight nervousness in her quiet giggle sounded off, out of place among the implications.

The infuriating blush Neil did not seem able to get rid of even when closer to the age of thirty, made an appearance again. It bloomed across his cheekbones like weeds, making him hang his head with shame despite being the only one present in the room. Ever so helpful, his bitch of a brain chose this moment to show him a reel of last night’s events. Cupid underneath the stage lights, dancing with grace in every step. Her laughter upon the streets of Soho. The feel of her naked skin underneath his hands. The taste of her upon his tongue- Yeah, message received.

“Yeah, I was there” the ridiculous feeling of pride entered the crowded stage of his heart.

Before Neil could attempt to shrug it off, Cupid spoke again:

“You were. I remember you” her tone lowered almost imperceptibly, yet enough so Neil would notice. The low timbre spread across his chest with warmth as she added, “Vividly” the emphasis made everything worse as it awakened the exact shade of yearning he wanted to banish for eternity “Neil, I know you didn’t just call me to ask how my morning is going” the matter-of-fact turn in her voice was the wake-up call he needed.

It reminded Neil about the true purpose of the call and what he needed to say. Now, ideally. He took another deep breath, aware of the prolonged silence on the line and the rapid beat of his heart. It took him another second to convince convincing himself to speak the words into existence. All with the grace of an elephant stumbling over the vowels and tripping on the consonants:

“No... But it’s- I’ve never done this before. I had one-night stands, but not with someone like you” the ending came out in a rush as Neil tried to get it out as fast as possible without further embarrassment.

Although he knew that it was too late for those kinds of worries anyway. He was already a personification of shame in all meanings of the word.

The laugh he expected from Cupid upon such a pathetic display did not come. Instead, he got a quiet huff, which was hard to interpret with his lacklustre detective skills and a question carried on a soft tone:

“Not with a friend?” to Neil’s surprise, she did not sound judgemental or sarcastic, as if making a joke on his expanse.

Admittedly, it was what he anticipated, knowing how the sentence sounded and what it conveyed. Knowing what a loser he was, confessing the facts instead of pretending to be someone he was not. Instead of doing what he usually did.

For whatever reason, Neil increasingly often found that he did not want to pretend with Cupid. He particularly enjoyed those moments when it felt like she saw him and enjoyed the picture revealed. It was at once terrifying and exhilarating. It was what made him turn on the heel to press his back against the wall by the window and slide down to sit on the floor, risking yet another admission:

“Yeah, exactly. And like- It was amazing. It really was, but now I’m… I’m so… confused” the word hardly covered the state of his mind since waking up, but it had to do for now.

Somehow, Neil knew she would understand. She would find meaning within the stammers and pauses, interrupting the incoherent reasoning. She was smart like that.

Because the clue of the matter was that there were no regrets. No particle of his soul that wished last night did not happen. It’s just that he didn’t know what was coming next. If anything at all.

“I get it. It’s uncharted territory for you” once Cupid spoke again, Neil tried to determine her feelings on the topic from her voice. There was nothing to interpret apart from thoughtfulness and the desire to understand. To understand him, of all people. A feat few attempted and even fewer succeeded at, “From my point of view, nothing has to change between us. But I don’t think last night has to be a one-off. It could happen again” the meaning of her words took a while to sink, and even longer to be processed by his brain, slowed by incompetence and whatever charm she had him under. When it did, Neil sat up straighter, a rare sense of excitement tugging at his gut and making him open his eyes wider “If you wanted it to” the addition was almost a footnote.

Because, of course, he wanted to. He would be a fool not to. Right?

The enthusiastic reply was almost at the tip of his tongue, but the remains of dignity stepped in at the right time. Instead, Neil let the silence speak, taking a moment to ask the second most terrifying question. If not the first.

“And what about you?” the fate of his self-respect was placed upon the pedestal made of four words.

Ready to be crumbled with just one sleigh of her hand. While Neil knew Cupid enjoyed what he did to her (and with her), there was no guarantee. No way of knowing without asking her first. Now, all he could do was wait.

Wait and listen to her breathing through the phone, trying and miserably failing at not hanging upon each exhalation as if it were a sentence determining the rest of his life. Luckily, Cupid was not the one to make him wait in misery for too long.

“I’d definitely want a repeat” the certainty in her voice felt like a rush of blood to his head.

It was tinted with that shade of playfulness he considered her trademark. It was barely there, but still, it made everything easier. Brighter.

Now Neil did not even try to fight off the grin from his face as he asked:

“Yeah?” it was just another lousy trick to make her confirm what should have been obvious but was not.

At least not to his stupid brain, burdened with the eternal fear of not being enough. Ever. For anyone. Not even as a friend that you occasionally shag.

“Yes,” Cupid did not hesitate, humouring him joyfully.

Or at least that is how Neil interpreted the light chuckle that followed the reply. It eased the burden a little, but soon he found another pressing question that needed answering. Should they continue… whatever it was that was happening. Phrases like the infamous ‘friends with benefits’ started floating around his head, but for the time being, Neil brushed them away.

“So, if we did… do it again, what are the ground rules?” the clumsy wording was something he could do without, but alas, there was no choice.

He could only hope that Cupid would ignore the failure. It was the very next thing he needed to settle. The rules of play, per se. It was a completely new territory for him, something he had never done or entertained because there was no reason to. No person was worth the confusion. But now- Yeah, now there was. And Neil had no fucking clue how it all made him feel. Or whether he was not making the mistake of his life by even considering the concept. Still, he ignored the idea as Cupid broke the silence with a factual voice:

“No staying over afterwards for the night, and you must tell me if you find someone to be with for real. I don’t want to be the mythical other woman” the business-like tone suggested what Neil already knew – this was not the first time for her.

Far from it. He added a strange pinprick of jealousy to the ongoing list of feelings and thoughts to be ignored and rested his forehead against his folded knees.

The simplicity of the do’s and don’ts was undeniable. Still, it was impossible to tell how bad of a decision it would be on the endless spectrum of ‘ways to fuck up’ that Neil knew too well. From experience.

“Okay,” he nodded, although she would not see it and risked another question. To calm the running thoughts before they escaped his control entirely, “Is it fine if I think about it for a while?”

The pros were easy to think of. If he agreed, this one night would not have to be the only time Neil would have her. He could keep acting on what came to him so effortlessly when near Cupid. He could touch and kiss her as he pleased, whenever he wanted, without first worrying whether it would destroy their friendship.

But the cons were not hard to come by either. Adding sex into the equation often destroyed the friendship on its own. Neil was not sure whether he could trust himself to be as detached emotionally as the situation required him to be. He would never actually have her. Not that he wanted to. Because he didn’t. He didn’t.

“Sure thing, sunshine. We don’t have to change anything right now” her steady reassurance stopped the increasingly frantic thought processes and filled his chest with warmth.

Neil never knew he was a fan of nicknames. Of being called sunshine. But apparently, he was.

The sudden wave of peace settling over his head was the only sign that the conversation was successful. He has reached at least some sort of clarity. Even if he still had no clue what the hell he was supposed to do.

“I’ll see you Wednesday. Like always?” the pathetic edge to that question did not escape him.

But it was impossible to end the call without asking. Without checking whether Neil had something to look forward to. Without ensuring that they were okay.

At this point, Neil did not even try to pretend that Wednesdays did not become his favourite day of the week. For absolutely no reason.

“Yeah, you will” the internal debate about whether he actually could hear her wink got quickly interrupted by Cupid’s question, “And Neil?” a noncommittal hum had to do instead of a reply, what with his brain becoming a lost cause. Still, it was impossible not to wait on her addition with bated breath and heartbeat thundering in his ears. You know, like a normal person would “You know I can’t offer you a relationship, but what we have still means a lot to me. It’s not every day that I have sex this good with my best friend” this time, Neil could definitely hear the sly smile in her voice.

That strange smugness and pride returned to fill his chest with warmth and painted a grin on his face. It was the highest of praises. Both because Cupid admitted that whatever they had was worth her time and attention and because she confirmed that the previous night was… satisfying. It was a challenge not to let that get into his head, successfully distracting Neil from any other thought he could have had.

He was a simple man, alright? One spoonful of praise placed at his feet, and he was done for. In all meaning of the word.

“No?” the joy was audible in his voice as he risked a tease, “I’m such a lucky bastard, then” it was barely an overstatement.

Even if it all was to backfire spectacularly and bite him in the ass soon, Neil felt lucky. Lucky that Cupid wanted to waste her time on him. Even for a wink of her time.

And yes, he knew he sounded like a pathetic simp. He was aware of it, thank you very much.

“You are” her laughter still rang in his ear as she whispered a necessary goodbye, “I’ll talk to you soon,” for once, Neil felt no need to question her promise.

No reason to doubt.

“Bye, Cupid,” his farewell was met with another chuckle before the woman in question ended the phone call.

Slowly, Neil put down the phone and raised his head to stare at the ceiling. The white paint was occasionally spruced up with cobwebs, reminding him just how long had passed since he had last deep cleaned the apartment. A sigh had to do before Neil got up from the floor and turned up the music.

Duran Duran had nothing on him now. Surely.

[diazheartsbuckley]

Isomnia fic sounds great!

Hi anon!

Thank you, it’s one of my main wips rn but truth be told, I haven’t written much on it lately (or at all) 😅

Ask me about my wips 💌

Here’s some snippets and introduction to the storyline 🥹

Introduction here ✨

First snippet here and second snippet here ✨

And one more below for you 😘

As he decides to not address it any further, he walks up to the bar, rubbing his cheeks with a hint of frustration written all over his face. He leans against the bar, looking out at the people around, laughing and having a good time. He wants to enjoy this time off, he truly does but the effects of the alcohol is tiring his body and he has to force himself to stay awake by rapidly blinking his eyes as he turns away from the rest of the 118.

He orders another drink to keep his mind occupied but it doesn’t last long as Buck walks up from behind him, startling him but he doesn’t show it. Yet Buck seems to take notice of the tension that’s risen in his body, a gentle hand placed on his shoulder.

“Hey man, you okay? Things got a little… strained back there” Buck nods towards the crew who are still laughing and joking around loudly, not ashamed of drawing attention to themselves.

Buck’s choice of words makes Eddie snort and he’s seconds away from rolling his eyes until he sees big blue eyes watching him with a softness that he hasn’t noticed before. “That’s an understatement, don’t you think?” Eddie utters, tense shoulders dropping at Buck’s simple yet thoughtful act. He meets Buck’s eyes and he can feel a small smile playing on his lips as he does. Eddie knows that he can never be mad at Buck, not even when he has barely slept in the past month.

Buck chuckles, ducking his head as he shies away from Eddie’s gaze but only for a moment. He looks back down at him, only to find rich mahogany eyes, dark and mysterious, yet full of hidden depths waiting to be explored, carefully watching him.

“Maybe, yeah. But I also know that you’re usually stubborn enough to not just let something like that go” Buck states as he sits down next to Eddie, their proximity perfectly reflecting the closeness of their bond as Buck’s warm knee rests against Eddie’s. “Something going on with you?” Buck asks, his voice gentle and curious as he tilts his head slightly to inspect the man in front of him.

Eddie opens his mouth to reply but before he has a chance to, a measurably drunk Chimney joins them, wrapping his arms around their shoulders and bringing the three of them close together. “Rejoin us for a good time” Chimney jokes, happiness beaming off him and he pats their shoulders before he takes a step back. “Hmm? Come on” He tries a bit more convincingly and both Buck and Eddie know that there’s no point in trying to argue with him - they’re joining the team again - whether they like it or not.

As they spend the rest of the night with their team, Eddie can’t help but to think about the way that Buck had been looking at him when he joined him at the bar, an unspoken gentleness written all over his face. In that moment, it had brought Eddie a sense of comfort that he hadn’t felt in a long time and parts of him were yearning to get it back. Buck has always been able to talk some sense into him, to calm him down in situations where it was needed and that’s why that moment had been different from the rest. He hadn’t necessarily needed the comfort, not by his own accord at least, but Buck had still been able to provide it, simply by being present.

Gonna use this as my wip wednesday 🌹

I was tagged by @dangerpronebuddie @tizniz , thank you babies 🫶

Tagging!! @watchyourbuck @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @cal-daisies-and-briars @wikiangela @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @honestlydarkprincess @giddyupbuck @butraura @vampbuckley @steadfastsaturnsrings @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @thewolvesof1998 @wildlife4life @theotherbuckley @disasterbuckdiaz @exhuastedpigeon @loserdiaz @evanbegins 🩵🦋

[vixentheplanet]

why did you fall in love?

“why did you fall in love? it's a hard fall from way up here."

shuri x black!reader | 18+

summary: You're one of the deadliest assassins in the world in a relationship with a superhero. [18+]

word count: 5.3k

themes: dark themes, assassin!reader, love-blind shuri (she is in love, leave her alone)

warnings: murder, manipulation, knife play, dom!reader (if you tilt your head, then left, and squint), oral sex, bondage, riding, fingering.

hi ✨ PSA this is a side blog to my main one so i can’t follow anyone as vixentheplanet

i’m okay!

i’m just re-uploading my deleted works for now and answering ask

i hope to write again but mentally not there rn

Every day, it is estimated that about 150,000 people die all across the world. Of those one hundred and fifty thousand people, one and seven hundred twenty-eight thousand of those people are homicide victims. When the night draws to a close, and Tuesday takes her daily victims, just one had the privilege of seeing your face last.

Many people make the mistake of believing that women are weak and harmless. These preconceptions force people to drop their guard and fail to see a threat right in front of them. Another widespread misunderstanding is that assassins are always male, grim, and gloomy figures dressed entirely in black. No one would ever suspect you of such atrocities, the girl in the velvet corset and gold metallic miniskirt. You were grinning devilishly to yourself as you walked the short distance from where the taxi had dropped you off to your apartment building.

In prison, you were recruited as an assassin by a criminal organization named Callio. Callio is short for blue coral snake (Calliophis bivirgata). The venom of the colorful snakes is so potent that it can cause all of the victim's nerves to fire at once, resulting in full-body spasms, paralysis, and sudden, terrible death—a fitting name for an organization housing some of the deadliest criminals. Your old identity perished the moment you became a member of the group. Callio aided you in escaping, fabricating your death, and establishing a new identity.

The organization was everywhere: police, MI5, and MI6 were covering things up so you wouldn't get in trouble. All potential evidence against you will be completely eradicated thanks to Callio's assistance. Your only task was to ensure that your target died. With each murder, you left a unique imprint without leaving a systematic trail. Your tasks took you all across the world. Except for Paris, you only stayed in one palace for a short time and did everything you could to blend in. If you wanted to have some fun, you could even go in disguise.

An 'expert' with a degree, desperate for labels, would brand you a psychopath who constantly disregards right and wrong and dismisses others' rights and feelings. It's a made-up phrase by individuals acting as society expects them to. They see the world in black and white, labeling things they don't comprehend because they've been taught to be afraid of the dark and unconventional ways of life.

It felt exhilarating to be able to live your life any way you wanted.

The night chill barely bothered your skin as epinephrine coursed through your bloodstream—the rush of adrenaline thrumming your body with pure excitement. 

When your steps click against the pavement, sirens zoom past you, no doubt on their way to the location you were just leaving. Tonight is one of the few times in recent memory that you didn't have to go out of the city for business. The target was Angus Grant-Taylor, a Scottish businessman who planned to spend the weekend in Paris. Perfect for you. While you were in Tokyo two weeks ago, concluding an assignment on a fashion mongoose, you were given his file.

A key card that granted entrance to the penthouse suite was enclosed with the file. You slipped into the elevator and pressed the button for the 50th floor. The red light surrounding the button went out, and a bell sounded as the doors opened directly into the opulent living area.

The execution was quick. In a confused combination of French and English, you put on a heavy French accent and informed Grant-Taylor that you were a sex specialist sent by a friend to welcome him properly in the City of Love. He fell for it, a horny filthy man, without even verifying your claims. It was terrible how easily you could convince him to surrender over his belt with the threat of punishment. You were in his lap moments later, looping the belt around his neck and pushing till the leather bit into his wrinkled flesh. You pulled tighter and tighter, seeing the businessman's eyes widen in terror, clawing at his neck in an attempt to end the assault, violent breathy cries leaving his thin lips.

You smile as you watch the struggle leave his body. It will be over soon. “At least your wife doesn't know her husband was unfaithful, right?” You murmured this with mock pity, no longer maintaining the phony French accent. The authorities would declare it erotic asphyxiation for a half-naked man with a belt around his neck. As soon as his body became limp, you were off his lap and fled from the hotel room. You leave the space in the direction of the camera's blind spot.

Pathetic. You thought as you pushed through the revolving door into your residential building, keeping your head low as you made your way through the lobby and up to the elevators. 

Inserting the key into the lock and hearing the click, you withdrew the key but hesitated momentarily before rotating the knob. There was a slight temperature drop, which you're sure was caused by a window opening and shutting. You feel an energetic shift as tension builds on your shoulders. There was a visitor inside. You instinctively reach for one of the solid-steel spikes hidden in your hair, preparing to strike. But, as you proceed further, a soothing fragrance meets your senses. Cherry almond bursts mingled with dense and warm woody ambery undertones.

Instead of continuing with your original plan, you smirk. Exiting the foyer, turn left into the kitchen, grab a glass from the sink, and twist the cap off the whiskey. "You know, I think you have a death wish sometimes," you say into the night, pouring yourself a celebratory shot. Had you not picked up on the scent, you would have attacked. The sofa creeks and footsteps approach from the sitting room while the brown liquid stings your throat.

The footsteps stop, and the light switches on, illuminating the room. Soft eyes land on you. “How did you know it was me and not some creep?” 

You turn to face the voice, welcomed by the woman whose attention you’ve managed to maintain for over a year. A beautiful woman who honestly had no business being involved with you, but staying away from each other proved to be a difficult task. “I could smell your cologne,” A robust and potent scent. Some days, it would bring comfort, cocooning you in a loving warmth you could temporarily allow yourself to get lost in. Other days, when you felt exceptionally vulnerable, it suffocated you with the feelings you left unnamed. 

"Imagine if it had been some creep," you add. A giggle escapes as you bite your lip and catalog how to torture the intruder. If someone made the wrong decision to break into your apartment, you would have considered it a gift from the devil. They must have some pretty fucked up karma.

Shuri's face changes as her expression hardens. She scolds you, "Stop doing that," fully aware of how unsettling your thoughts are.

You scowl at her reprimanding tone.

"Where are you coming from?" Shuri was interrogating you about what you had done tonight, and you pondered telling her the truth for a split second. For the typical person, it was a simple question. For you, it was difficult to answer. You could have been down the street, or you could have been at the scene of a homicide.  It was unnecessary to keep your occupation a secret. Shuri was fully aware of the life you led, but your contradictory morality didn't detract from the feelings she'd developed for you. 

Her justification? Shuri was an avenger; she wasn't concerned with the petty crimes of human existence. It wasn't her responsibility if it didn't pose a threat to her people or the universe. The truth? Love. Loving someone makes you unable to see their faults.

Shuri had been through so much grief and pain that she was at her lowest by the time you arrived. You were an enigma she was trying to solve at first, having met at a gala while you were on assignment. Shuri couldn't stay away once the mystery was uncovered and she discovered the nature of your life. Letting a literal superhero into your world, Shuri falling for an assassin, the relationship was risky for both of you. Secretly, you believe Shuri was drawn to you because of your darker tendencies, recognizing characteristics she fought to keep at bay in you. 

“If you don’t want to hear about what I’d do hypothetically, you definitely don’t want to know where I came from.” There’s a playful glint in your brown eyes as you smirked, bending down to remove your heels. Shuri releases a long sigh that causes you to snap your head at her. “What? Does the mighty Black Panther have something to tell me?” You challenged, throwing your coat into the empty chair. 

The two of you stood on two different sides on the scale of humanity. Things are rarely just black or white, good or bad; instead, they exist on a spectrum of gray hues. The world is filled with nuances, complexities, and shades of gray that require more in-depth examination and comprehension. Killing is a primordial act. Humans have three basic instincts: survival, predator, and prey. Humans would live like savages if not restrained by the rule of law, morals, and ethics. It's what nature intended. It was a waste of time to try to be decent when you could just be good at what you do best, murder.

Shuri saved lives as the Black Panther while you ended them. Shuri had difficulty grasping the fact that you enjoyed what you did. The gruesome sight of the victim’s body makes the detectives feel sick to their stomachs as they come up with little to no evidence. Thrilling.

Some may consider it selfish for a 'hero' to turn a blind eye to the assassin creating chaos in the world, but in reality, no one can always be entirely selfless. So Shuri gives herself the freedom to have this, to have you. As a result, you allow yourself to feel for the first time in a long time. Yet you never let the romance take you away from who you were. Make you abandon your criminal behavior in favor of a comfortable lifestyle with Shuri.

After sensing your anger, Shuri moves from the opposite side of the kitchen to be closer to you.

“I understand the nature of your profession,” Shuri hesitates in her following words, recognizing you’re prone to shutting down whenever the conversation becomes confrontational. "I must know you're safe."

Her sentiments amuse you. "You worry about me, sweetheart,"

"Y/N, I am being serious. Every time you leave on a mission, you run the chance of never returning."

"I suppose I could say the same thing about you." You fired back fast. With so many unknowns, the Avengers could not adequately prepare for every potential threat. You were at least provided with a file including all the required information and resources. On most occasions, you could be perfectly prepared for what you were about to walk into.

The situation was risky, but what's the fun of being cautious? You have a tendency to be impulsive and easily bored. “It hasn’t killed me yet.” You were well aware that you weren't invincible or superhuman. You are just too efficient at your work. But even if protected, you weren’t clumsy; every movement was careful and calculated.

"Would you like me to wait till it does?" 

A droplet slides down your cheek as your eyes water, “Are you going to save me?" You ask, brows furrowed as you look at Shuri with pleading eyes. " Save me, so I no longer have to kill. Please, please save me," you sniffled, reaching out to wipe away the tears that had gathered on cue.

Perhaps the hero knew too much about you. Shuri sighs at your shenanigans, her face heated at your ridicule of her sincerity. "Stop," she mutters.

In the stillness, a manic burst of laughter rings forth. "Wasn't that what you wanted me to do?" You argue back, and the depleted sigh that Shuri lets out has you rolling your eyes. "You're taking away my post-kill buzz." You have a grimace on your face as you turn away slightly. You weren’t in the mood for this emotional connectivity, no longer interested in hearing how much the other woman cares for you. 

Nevertheless, Shuri is right there, caging you against the marble countertop and unwilling to let you detach from her. Shuri's affection for you can be overwhelming. Initially, your emotional detachment was a struggle for the other, who wanted to be let in. She was gentle, always clutching at your rough edges with the hope of smoothing them out, and her understanding and tolerance occasionally roused in you a wish to be more patient with her.

"Don't shut me out," Shuri urges, brushing her gentle lips against your brow. It took significant effort to overcome the impulse to shut down when experiencing emotional distress. "What's on your mind?" she questioned softly.

Her focus is intense. It always fascinated you how much power she could wield over you with a look that demanded your attention. The gaze you give back is enough to convey what's going on in your unsteady thoughts. With Shuri so close, you didn't want to continue your conversation. You wanted her lips on yours so badly after being separated for a while. "Begins with the letter K, followed by the letter I. Finally, it has two of the same letters." You wait for her to figure out the puzzle.

Shuri leans forward, leaving you barely a few inches apart, your back pressed against the cold marble of the island. “Kiss or kill?” She inquires, her lips brushing across yours, close but not touching.

A smirk etches on your features. “Don’t tempt me.”

“The temptress doesn’t like being tempted?” Fucking tease.

"Playing with me may be disastrous, darling. But I’ll spare you. I think you deserve a kiss." Shuri doesn't waste any time pouring herself into you; your mouths move feverishly, embracing the severity of your hunger.

Gradually, the kiss is no longer enough to satisfy the craving. Hands tighten around your waist, pushing you effortlessly into the cool surface, the stone on your thighs sending shivers up your spine. Still yearning for the sensation of Shuri's lips, you bend your head lower. Her hands tremble as she removes the button on your skirt, the discarded garment on the tile. Shuri's movements stutter as you bite onto her earlobe, your teeth clamping down on her jewelry. "You're so sensitive," you joke.

Regaining her composure, the woman slips her hand under the lace of your panties and effortlessly finds her way to your opening. Gentle fingers move inward, gathering some of the liquid that has pooled there. As the pads of her middle finger massage your clit with the accumulated moisture, you draw away from her mouth and let out a blissful moan.

The rhythm on your clit was subtle at first, with just enough pressure to get your breath catching. Shuri’s other hand tugs your corset down to thumb over your nipple before rubbing it between her index finger and thumb. You were both panting heavily in the intensity of the moment. Your nails pinch into Shuri's skin as you press your lips together and hold her sharp jawline. "Go down on your knees."

As the Wakandan falls to her knees, lustful eyes follow her every move. You clutch the counter's edge while your legs lay on Shuri's shoulders. Your stomach muscles clench in anticipation as you feel her warm breath on your core. Your pussy throbbed incessantly, and you're certain Shuri's hesitancy came from her fascination with how your juices flowed.

You have no idea when she will give you what you want. She then went in. Shuri used her tongue to separate your folds, causing you to gasp quietly, then spread you open with a long lick, ending with her mouth on your clit. Savoring the taste.

"Mon amour," you purr, resting your palm over Shuri's curls. As you move your hips slowly, your mouth falls slack. Once the pleasure becomes too overwhelming, you fully relax, laying back on the surface. Head dangling over the edge, a dizzying wave settles in. The rush is intoxicating.

She keeps sucking and devouring. Another glide, a deeper lick, and she comes up for air, only a few seconds missing the taste of you on her tongue before diving back in. When she brushed across the inside of your slit, her touch on your core made you whimper helplessly. You extended your legs wider and pushed your hips up for more, grinding on her face impulsively. Your body understood what it desired.

Shuri did as well. As Shuri grasped your ass with both hands and forced you onto her face, you uttered an involuntary gasp of surprise. "Oh, fuck," you exclaim. She was fully immersed in her task. Nothing mattered but you. Your lustful cries redirected Shuri's attention to your clit, which she licked rhythmically. The actions cause your stomach to spasm and deliver euphoric vibrations throughout your body. You're delirious and feeling so fucking amazing. Shuri has you in such immense ecstasy that you can hardly think about anything else. Shuri sank her face as far as she could, causing your spine to arch and legs to tremble —right there.

Your eyelids slid back as your orgasm rushed over you from head to toe. Everything raced as you felt your release land fast and heavy on Shuri's tongue. You cry out her name, and every drop of air in your lungs escapes, leaving you gasping.

As Shuri gets up, you lift your legs off her shoulders, and firm hands pull you upright. Between the orgasm and the disorientation, you're dazed, but your half-lidded eyes make out her form, and your hands go for Shuri's shirt, bringing her in for a fierce kiss. "You always make me feel so good," you praise, admiring the lovely face paint your cum applied to her.

"I fear I'm addicted to hearing you yell my name." As a result of her exertions, Shuri's voice is low and slightly harsh.

You smile as you attempt to regain your composure. "You're in luck. I plan on screaming it a lot more tonight.” Shuri unleashes an insanity-inducing growl in response to your words, which she only makes when she loses control.

"I have a surprise for you," You speak to her in a hushed tone as though it was a secret. Your expression becomes increasingly sinister. Something unexpectedly made Shuri ache.

With your legs on either of her, you sat slightly on Shuri's chest to avoid disturbing the strap waiting for you to climb. In your palm is a dagger you brought from Thailand. The gold handle is detailed and encrusted with amethyst teardrop crystals, while the silver blade gleams in the Parisian night.

"Beautiful, huh?" you say, admiring the handcrafted artistry.

Shuri’s brows raise, eyes trained on the object you held. "It's lovely, but I thought I warned you against weaponry in bed, my dear?"

You tilted your head, "When I warned you not to tell me what to do,” you counter-responded. “Anyway, that's not a surprise." Shuri opened her mouth to argue, but you signaled her to keep silent with a finger; she obeyed. You put the dagger between your lips and reach for a bundle of scarlet hemp rope. 

You don't ask. Just hold it up with a pleading expression. Shuri gives you a thoughtful look before finally giving in, her gaze flitting between the rope and the dagger. She couldn't deny it, but you knew she was always eager to try new things in the bedroom.

"Fine" was the only confirmation you required, thrilled. "Raise your arms and lock your wrists together," you command, and Shuri obediently complies. The synthetic material is woven into a handcuff knot. Imagining a future in which Shuri would allow you to tie elaborate knots in the rope that encircled her body evoked a primal sense of authority.

Shuri's breath catches when the rope is secured, and she experiences faint, painful sensations that heighten her awareness. Upon noticing that her eyes are closed, you smirk. You ask, "How does it feel?" to determine if she is at ease.

"It's good," she affirms, eyes fluttering open. You admire the vivid crimson thread that binds Shuri's wrist since it stands out against her complexion.

Tightly bound and 'helpless,' you and Shuri both know she has the ability to break free if she so desires. For the fun of it, you place the blade against her neck. "Are you afraid?"

Shuri swallows with her Adam's apple bobbing as her throat comes closer to the dagger. The woman beneath you remains silent for a few moments before shaking her head. "I'm not," she says clearly. "You wouldn't do anything to hurt me, and I know that."

It dawns on you how much faith Shuri has in you. You're a deadly assassin who kills others out of joy, with no remorse or conscience. Any rational person would have been terrified. It doesn't matter how brave they act around you; a knife to the throat will make all pretense of courage vanish in an instant. Yet Shuri's gaze is fixed on you, and she isn't reacting to the dagger you're holding.

Instead of being content with her response, you take things a step further, bringing your arm back and raising the blade above Shuri's head, but she remains unaffected by your actions, continuing to gaze with you. She doesn't even blink when you bring your arm down quickly, stabbing the pillow beside her head. Yet, with your chest pressed together, you can hear her heart pulse against yours. 

You bend down and kiss her on the mouth. The kiss is anything but delicate, full of fire and desperation due to the limited time around each other. Despite being restrained, Shuri mirrors your enthusiasm, her lips moving in sync with her intent. A moan escapes your lips as you pull back and lick a long stripe across Shuri's tattooed neck.

The blade is withdrawn from the pillow when you pull the handle. "This," you declare, waving the weapon in front of Shuri. "It's only a precaution. I'd like you to keep it for me, darling." You request, putting the sharp blade between the lips of the other woman.

You lean in close to her ear. "I'm going to ride the fuck out of you," you confidently vow, and Shuri whines. Her wrist flexed in the precise knot. “Ah, ah- no touching.” You reprimand, grabbing for the lubricant container, squeezing some into your palm, and coating the strap.

You gasp as you lift up and sink down into the shaft. In this posture, you had perfect control over the intensity and motion. "You look so gorgeous," you say, appreciating how she's pliant beneath you, waiting to be used.

When you direct the shaft to your entrance, you inhale sharply, feeling your walls flex to accommodate the length. You balance yourself by resting your hands on Shuri's shoulders and dragging your hips upwards, setting the rhythm. Every time you come back down, your gaze is fixed on Shuri, and a tiny gasp escapes your lips.

Shuri's admiration as she watches you indulge in your own pleasure turns you on even more—symbolic submission, yielding to you and your dark desires. "Do you enjoy watching me use you?" you ask, and Shuri nods, unable to react vocally with the razor blade between her lips. "I'm sure you do. Strong for the rest of the world, yet weak for me." Perhaps it was your possessive attitude, but it was pretty erotic when Shuri handed over complete control; her fingertips flexed, anxious to make contact. If she had her way, you'd be beneath her as she drove into you at incredible speed. The thought got you on even more, and you didn't stop thrusting down on her.

You're chasing your climax with a ruthless drive, your moans rising in octaves at the intense feeling. You let go of Shuri's shoulder, your fingers sliding into your scalp and yanking your hair till it hurts, the stinging exquisite. "Shuri," you scream, your voice never wavering. You keep repeating her name, louder each time, keeping your promise. As a reminder to her, even when she wasn't performing the job, she was always the source of your ecstasy. Shuri looks on as you unravel, sinking deeper into pleasure as the tip touches that delicious soft area. The rush is so intense that you pause, tightening around the shaft. "I'm so close, baby," you assure her. “I’m going to cum for you.” Her pupils are blown as she watches you, hips shifting slightly. You know she longs to be free. Soon. The classic sensation of your muscles tightening emerges deep within your core; you move at a careless but steady pace, chasing to release the tension. 

Your vision blacks out, and it’s almost psychedelic as a millisecond of tranquil, chemically-induced euphoria shoots up from the center of your body. It flows around in pulses so intense that they curl your toes. The tingling sensation coursing through your veins made you shake, and violent cries fell from your lips. Your body bucked reflexively once, twice, and the third time became a shuddering full-body spasm as you drew out the high. 

You hardly had time to come down before lifting off the strap, unsteady fingers working on loosening the harness so you could put your fingers into Shuri's warmth. After watching you ride her, she's glistening with arousal. Her response to you is almost immediate, arching into your touch while you curl your fingers, stroking a rough spot that will have her coming soon.

"When you come for me, I'll cut you out," you breathe, stroking your fingers in Shuri and pressing your palm against her clit. "Would you be able to do it for me, baby?" She nods once before throwing her head back against the bed. Shuri's walls constrict around your fingers as you remove the weapon, forcing her to remain silent, and she moans so loudly that the walls tremble.

"I missed your pretty voice," you say, quickening your pace, eager to hear more of the sweet melody. "Fuck baby, Y/N," she gasps, body trembling. Seeing you are wrecking her brilliant mind, purging her of anything that isn't you, is an electrifying thought.

When you realized that Shuri was about to break, you slid the blade beneath the red hemp rope, preparing to sever the material. Shuri extends her legs farther, enabling you to press in harder, losing yourself in her and caring for her. "That's it, darling, let go," you urge, knowing she's getting near.

You slide the dagger through the rope when you feel the first wave of wetness. Shuri's walls are squeezing around your fingers as she cums, shouting out your name loud and long with a mix of obscenities. Making it clear to everyone around you who was making her feel this good.

Sweaty foreheads pressed together as you breathe into each other coming down from your high. Shuri grins as she scoops you up in her arms and swiftly reverses your position, hovering over you. "You know you're wild," she chuckles, bending her elbows to kiss you. You sigh into the kiss, missing her sweetness. “Thank you for humoring me,” you tell her between your soft kisses. "I'm sure you could have gotten out of that."

“I’d do anything for you,” and you recognize it’s not just pillow talk.

"Would you like to take a bath with me?" you ask, your eyes heavy from the sedation of your climax. Of course, Shuri agrees, and you get up as soon as possible. You are running warm water and adding a few extra things: Epsom salt, honey, and lavender oil. 

You're seated comfortably between Shuri's legs, her mouth pressing little nibbles into your neck. Your manicured nail traces over the ink that has become firmly embedded in the skin of your beloved. These were the times when you could let your mind relax. You could get caught up in the moment and believe life was that simple. Except—

Your voice cuts through the silence. “What is it?” Shuri hums. “What are you thinking about?”

“I don’t want to scare you,” Shuri says, deflecting from the question. 

You stop, pausing your tracing. “Tell me,” you demand.  

She sighs deeply, the heat raising the hairs on the back of your neck. "I was simply imagining what it would be like if we were always this way." Shuri quickly adds context to her revelation. "I have no interest in domestic life. I don’t think either of us is suited for that. I only want you."

Shuri is waiting for you to answer in the quiet. You make every effort to comprehend her emotions. Love is a feeling that makes people happy, and happiness is the spark that draws people to love, and the emotion can take the form of people at times. Shuri wishes to be with you at all times. She wants to be happy with you. "One day, you'll consume me. You’ll be all I need, and then I'll want nothing else. And on that day, I'll say yes." 

You turn, spilling the water about as you proceed to sit in Shuri's lap. Her hands naturally gravitate to your waist. "Say it," you beg, and she knows exactly what you mean.

"I love you," the declaration always makes your heart skip a beat, even if you have yet to reciprocate. You bend your neck and pull Shuri down, kissing her until both of you are out of breath.

You let Shuri hold you throughout the night, and when she slips away, believing you're sleeping, she kisses your hair and mumbles, "I love you." 

The rising light gave the morning sky a pink hue. Given your circumstances, whether it was hours, days, or weeks, you and Shuri did everything you could.  Even if you awoke alone, the cut crimson rope and thoughts of the previous night are enough to lift your spirits. You grab your silk robe, tie it snugly around your waist, and head for the kitchen.

The envelope containing your next assignment was on the coffee table, where you had left it before heading for the penthouse last night. You take it as you walk into the, your energy spent from the night before, and you need to eat.

You select a croissant, set it on a baking sheet, then place it in the oven to brown. In the fridge, you take out the orange juice and the strawberry jam, leaving them on the counter as you retrieve a glass for the liquid. You take a crystal glass from the cabinet and pour the orange juice into it, and your gaze is drawn to the diamond pattern. That's how the day begins, basking in Shuri's afterglow, the delicate aroma of the croissant filling the air. This file is thicker than the ones you're used to. Callio has been tracing this person for a time now.  Uncomfort sinks into your gut as you hold the envelope. You're noticing details you didn't previously. It's not anxiety; it's a nagging warning brought on by intuition.

"Get a hold of yourself," you whispered to yourself. You make a clean cut across the seam using one of the spikes on your hairpin. You hold the glass again, ready to take a sip, as the contents pour out of the clean incision you made across the top, but as you read the name scrawled in red pen, your grip becomes unsteady, sending the glassware plummeting. It shatters instantaneously, the liquid spilling down your feet, but you barely react as your eyes scan the name once, twice, three times, hoping for a change; for the letters to suddenly rearrange into something else. Yet it doesn't, and the more you read, the faster your pulse becomes as discomfort takes over your body.

Shuri Udaku

[whumpwillow]

Demon's Haven 15

i know I said i was going on hiatus but I suddenly felt compelled to write more of this so here ya go. its what you've all been waiting for ✨

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masterlist

warnings: past torture, blood, past murder, brief depictions of past gore and suicide, church mention

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This was a mistake. This had all been a huge, grand mistake.

Haven wished it were instead a nightmare, one she could wake up from and find herself in any other situation other than the one she was presently in. But this was no mere dream, just the foolish consequences of her misplaces sympathies.

She scrambled off the bed with such ferocity that her feet got tangled in the blankets, ankles twisting around the sheets. She stumbled out of them, barely managing not to fall flat on her face, before darting away and spinning to face the demon she’d let into her home.

The demon prince.

Oh, what a monumental fool she was. It’d been a bad idea from the start, summoning him in the first place, but she’d wanted to try something she never had before, to be involved in the secret goings-on of the witches covens. It was just supposed to be a simple deal. A simple spell. And now look where that had gotten her.

She shouldn’t have gone back to the cave after that first night. She should have just given up, let the spell time out, and forgotten about the whole thing.

The demon would have been unleashed on the world if she had just ignored him, though. That certainly wasn’t a possibility, not one she would have considered with any sort of demon, prince or not.

She could have sent him back. It would have been the smart thing to do, to undo her ritual and release the demon back into the depths of hell.

But then…gone back to whatever torment he’d been summoned from.

Envy.

She looked at him, on his knees amid her mussed bedcovers. His hands shook at his sides. He swallowed, likely trying to prevent himself from launching into another bout of tears like the one she’d just calmed him down from.

One of the seven demon princes. Weeping in her arms like a babe.

Neither of them spoke. Neither moved, trapped in the moment of stilled silence so potent that she could have sliced through the air with a knife and divided it into sections to serve like a pie. She wondered if demons did that to people. She knew what this particular demon had done to witches like her.

She wondered briefly if this had all been a ruse. That he meant to take advantage of her sympathy to draw her into the summoning circle, and instead of attacking at the earliest moment, he’d lead her into making a soul bond with him that would chain her to him for as long as her mortal soul existed. She shouldn’t have done it. She shouldn’t have cared. He was going to kill her. He wasn’t just any demon, but a demon prince, a lord of Hell, one of the most powerful demons in existence and he…

…was bowing to her on her unmade bed.

Haven sighed, releasing some of her fear with the breath. Guilt swelled to replace the gaps it left in her.

How could she have thought that?

Prince or not, the demon—Envy—was hurt, and needed her help. There was no faking it. Something had happened, and it was only her around to help.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, over and over.

He bent forward at the waist in much the same way as she’d seen him in the summoning circle, legs folded beneath him and likely aggravating his broken ribs. It had to be excruciating, and yet he said not a word of it, and only continued apologizing to her and begging not to be hurt.

Haven shook her head. No, this was definitely not a ploy.

“It—it’s okay,” she said, repeating the same words she used to try and comfort him earlier. “It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.”

It felt different now, saying those words. Comforting him like she had been. She’d known all along he was a demon and she knew the reputation they had, yet she had helped him anyways despite all that. Demons were vicious, repugnant, evil. That’s what everyone said about them, summoner or not. Haven had disregarded all the carefully curated knowledge she’d studied so that she could take care of one, and here he was, turning out to be a demon prince.

And here she was, telling him she wouldn’t hurt him.

What a ridiculous situation.

The demon—Envy, she reminded herself—peered up at her. Still in that painful bow, his eyes locked on hers from in between strands of his hair. They held no malice. Haven could see no avarice in their emerald depths. Nothing malevolent at all.

“Are you angry?” Envy asked, then flinched as if expecting her to answer the question with a blow. He screwed his face tight, bracing himself for it.

Haven closed the distance she’d put between the two of them and settled a hand on his cheek. The demon gasped at the contact. It was a feather-light touch, yet when she moved it upwards, Envy’s head followed. He was a splendid rendition of a penitent if Haven had ever seen one, looking up at her like that, leaning into her touch despite his shaking. His eyes fluttered, long eyelashes fanning his cheeks, still dotted with the dew of recent tears.

“Please,” he said. “Please don’t abandon me.”

“I told you I’m not going to do that.”

Of course, that was before she knew he was a demon prince. That he was one of the most powerful demons of all. That he was the one who had invaded the city three summers ago and used his wretched powers to compel a witch to rip out her own sister’s heart.

Envy—the concept, and the demon himself—did things to people.

Yet here he was, pliant under her hands, tears falling from his emerald eyes to trail over her fingers. He was hurt, terribly and irrevocably, begging her on his knees for salvation. Again, the irony of it all was not lost on her.

She should have turned him away. She should have never involved herself in this situation at all.

She felt a great spike of unpleasantness in her middle when she realized that she would have sent him back if she knew who he was at the start. If he’d told her that he was a demon prince. She wouldn’t have even thought about it, and would have just undone the ritual, which would rip him from this plane of existence to send him back to the one he came from.

She knew how it worked too. That when a demon was summoned, it was pulled from Hell to come to this earthly realm, and when undone, it was sent back to exactly the same place it had been taken from. Envy would have been sent back to his torment. To the place that had caused him so much pain—merely because she was too afraid.

Haven bit her lip to keep herself from sighing.

Logically, those thoughts made sense. That’s what she’d find if she were to read through her demonica books again, or if she asked any other witch in the city.

The princes were the most wicked of all.

The thought sickened her. Guilt and fear waged war inside her. She feared being hurt by him and all that he was, but she feared most of all what would happen to him if she did not remain by his side. If she were to truly abandon him, or what would have become of him had she not summoned him when she did. All her decisions lead her to this point.

“But how is this possible?” she asked.

Envy regarded her for a moment, weighing his words carefully. “I thought you knew.”

“About summoning a demon prince? I’d have needed an artifact that belonged to you in order to do it.”

“You used my ring, after all.”

Haven thinned her lips into a line, resisting from huffing out a breath. The gold ring she’d found wedged in between cobblestones in the streets. The pure gold the summoning spell had called for, and the one ingredient she had been lacking until a random stroke of luck had enabled her to finish gathering everything required. Of course it had to have been the ring of a demon prince, probably lost on one of his jaunts to the human realm.

Regular demons, Haven knew, had to be summoned. They couldn’t pass the barrier between Hell and Earth as they pleased, so it was up to the witches’ discretion on when and where to summon them. Haven had chosen the cliffside cave for its secluded nature and the difficulty in getting to and from the location so that if anything went wrong and the demon somehow escaped, it would at least be far enough away from other people for just long enough that hopefully somebody would get the warning out.

She regretted her choice upon having to cart an injured demon the entire distance, however.

Demon princes were altogether another matter. Bestowed with unimaginable power, they could between Hell and Earth as they pleased without a care for the division between them. Haven didn’t know whether to consider her summoning one of them a blessing or a curse. Envy had been trapped in the circle since he’d appeared there after entering this realm, but he’d have been free had he decided to come to Earth of his own will.

Though, judging by the state of him, that certainly hadn’t been an option.

Haven pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, I…found your ring on the street. I just needed gold for the summoning, and it was there.”

Envy looked down, letting Haven’s hand slip from his cheek. He wiped at his eyes, rimmed red from all the crying. It made the green stand out so much more.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Envy set his hands in his lap, his legs still folded under him. At least he’d stopped bowing to her, though fresh blood blossomed on the pristine bandages Haven had just wrapped around his midsection. She’d have to redo them and try to stem the worst of it.

“Do you…” Envy began, then paused. Bit his lip. Fidgeted.

Haven busied herself with picking up the bandage rolls that had fallen off the bed when the two of them had laid down earlier. Her body still remembered the silky touch of his hair under her fingertips, the way he had shivered so relentlessly. A faraway concept now. To think that she had been so close with a demon prince and not even known it.

“Do you know what I—” Envy blurted out, but the words caught in his throat. He stopped like that, mouth half-open, looking at her for the briefest of moments before turning away and burying his head in his hands.

“The witch sisters?” Haven finished, knowing what he was trying to ask and wondering why he even bothered.

Everyone knew. It was all anyone could talk about that summer, that the demon prince Envy had filled one sister with so much of his power that she had torn her own sister’s heart from her chest. That he had made her envious enough to do such a thing to own flesh and blood family.

The news had circulated in all the witch communities throughout her city as well as the surrounding villages, traveling down the river like white rapids. The non-gifted were up in arms about it as well, regarding it as a possession and a grievous murder of the highest order. The church had seen to the investigation along with the city guard and police force. It had been top news until the autumn winds carried in another demon prince, Lust, who again targeted an innocent witch. He’d entranced her, drew her in with his power and beauty, then ensorcelled her to dance the night away, burning through all her joy like a torch would do to a pile of dry wool. At dawn, the sun rose and the spell waned, leaving the girl exhausted not just physically, but of everything she ever was. A week later, she threw herself off the clock tower.

To think these sorts of beings could freely invade her world made her nauseous. To think she’d bound her soul to one of them.

Knowing all this, Haven had been cautious when summoning a demon. She never expected to have gotten a prince. The rules stated that she needed an item that belonged to the prince one was trying to summon, so Haven had been sure she wouldn’t need to deal with that mess. She didn’t account for her random stroke of luck in finding the gold ring to not be so lucky after all. Well, for her. It appeared Envy had been quite lucky to have escaped when he did. Haven wished she’d done it sooner. Maybe she could have spared him some of this pain.

“I’m sorry,” Envy said again.

He threaded his fingers through his hair. His back curved forward in such a shape that it must have strained his broken bones and still, even now, Haven ached to reach out to him to tell him to stop doing that to himself.

“Why did you do it?” Haven found herself asking before she could think better of it.

Envy flinched again. Then sank deeper into his misery until his body looked like the letter c.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “I don’t know, I don’t—I don’t know!”

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, gritting his teeth.

“I just…I don’t know, I wanted them to respect me!”

He threw his hands down at his sides with such force, it must have jostled his broken fingers. He winced and did it again, pounding his hands on the sheets. The action made a subtle poff. Haven reached out and grabbed his wrists before he could do it again.

“What? The witches?” she asked.

She couldn’t imagine him caring what the witch sisters thought of him.

“Everyone.”

Envy averted his gaze, but didn’t try to release himself from Haven’s grasp. He could have. She wasn’t holding on very hard, and while his wrists had grown thin enough for her to enclose them in one hand, he was still a demon prince and she was still a mere mortal.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated for what had to be the millionth time. “I just…”

He trailed off, giving up on the pretense of an excuse. Haven watched every miniscule emotion on his face pass through in the span of a second each. He wasn’t very good at hiding them. Neither was she.

“I should have been better.”

He spoke slowly, voiced edged with a blunted cadence. Haven held his wrists in her hands, rubbed her thumbs back and forth over them, remembering the abused skin under the bandages she’d wrapped around them. Thick bands had encircled the both of them, mottled blue and purple with a hint of green and flecks of brown. He must have been held in manacles for quite a while to have bruises like this.

“I won’t hurt you,” Haven said, because even though she’d reassured him of the very same already, she felt it needed to be said again. “You can stay here.”

Envy blinked at her, tears again beginning to pool in at the edges of his eyes. A stray one fell and Haven reached out to wipe it away.

“Thank you,” Envy said.

“No problem.”

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