#it took me over a week to finish writing this whew

[cielsosinfel]

reading log #1100111 1100001 1111001

I was keeping reading logs of books and comics I'd completed here, and then on Dreamwidth... but I think I'm gonna end up doing them here first again before archiving on Dreamwidth lol. I have had a very bad time following up on things like this the last few months but I HAVE been finishing books (or giving up on them in frustration.) So, here's some recent ones and some meandering thoughts (if I had typed these up closer to finishing the book I would have much more to say, but alas, memory is a sieve)

CW for mentions of CSA/incest in the "Angels Before Man" section.

A Man of Lies by Ben Crane: This came up in the library database when I searched for Queer Fiction, and it was described as a heist novel with a gay lead. It's the author's first novel, too- he was a film screenwriter (none of his movies seem to have been very successful, though.) It sure is a heist novel! The MC, Barret, is an enforcer for the biggest mob boss in the Midwestern states, and falls in love with the boss' top accountant, Mickey. They want more out of life than the criminal underworld, and hatch a plot to steal shitloads of cash from their boss and flee together. But the plot is of course found out, and Mickey is killed right in front of Barret, and now Barret is forced to pay off the debt or be killed himself. But he has a better idea- one more risky scheme to to make millions and live the life Mickey wanted for them.

I actually enjoyed this one a lot!! It's very fast-paced. There are way too many POVs- it switches characters every chapter, and the narrator PoV shifts from first-person when it's Barret to close-third-person for everyone else, so it felt hectic at times. I think you can definitely tell this was written by someone used to writing film scripts- so many scenes are written in such a way that feel like they'd perfectly translate to a film scene (I got the feeling the author might be wanting to turn this into a film at some point?) There's also some flashback fuckery near the end I found kind of obnoxious but oh well, it didn't detract from the book.

It's a super ridiculous book at it's core and definitely leans hard into the tropes of its genre. Some things made me roll my eyes, especially with Barret's narration (I'm a liar! You'll never know when I'm telling the truth!) but there were some sexy moments with his suffering. I REALLY liked Cass (long-time petty criminal with a bitterness toward the world, looking for her big break), Johnny Boy (Cass' pacifist friend who just wants to do right by everyone and keep his friends safe, but can never meet Cass' expectations and is always the target of her anger), and Pickens (long-suffering genius lockpicker who just wants to get paid without getting dragged into other peoples' bullshit. He is, dare I say it, my poor little meow meow.)

It ends in a ridiculous but good plot-twist that actually makes me want to read the sequel when it comes out (this is rare. I have very low patience for multi-book series anymore lmao.) So yeah. Quick, easy, fun read, excited for more.

Idol, Burning by Rin Usami (tl. Asa Yoneda): This is a book about a high school girl's life in idol fandom, but so much more than that. I wasn't sure what I was expecting going into this- I only heard about it because I saw someone talk about an essay they wrote on this, about how it shows how idol fandom could be considered feminist- but it really was not what I expected just going off that!!

This is about a girl who is being failed by many people around her. This is a girl who has undiagnosed dyslexia and learning disabilities; a girl who is very depressed, suicidal and self-harming; a girl with a worsening eating disorder; a girl with a total disconnect from the people around her. She falls into idol fandom for a particular idol, a boy who she has been obsessed with since she was a young child watching him as a 12 year old, performing as Peter Pan, and it becomes her solace, her refuge, and a crutch. She doesn't understand herself or her life, so she obsesses over trying to understand every ;ittle detail about her oshi, from the smallest facial movements to the tone of his social media text posts.

When her idol is suddenly in a media storm for hitting a woman- a woman he may have been secretly dating- it's like a spiderweb of cracks in a dam are suddenly broken through and she's struggling to tread water.

I feel like what this book really captures is how being deeply involved in fandom, and being super passionate for a hobby, and online communities of likeminded fans, can both help and hurt. The more depressed Akari gets because of her family life, of failing in school, of being treated as an idiot because of ableist barriers she doesn't even realize are blocking her path forward, the more she fixates on her idol- constantly watching and rewatching shows and interviews to try to see beyond her oshi's public persona, updating her blog with in-depth reviews of albums or summaries of interviews, buying up all of the merchandise she can for what amounts to an all-consuming shrine in her room filled with trash and uneaten food.

Her oshi becomes the only reason she gets up and leaves the house, the only reason she gets dressed (always in blue, her oshi's official color), the only reason she continues to work (she needs the money to support her oshi), the only reason she interacts socially outside her family (with fandom, with other obsessed fans who understand why she's so emotionally reliant on a celebrity that she'll nvver truly meet). But this hyperfixation is undeniably a large part of why her life is stalling and backsliding, even if it's not the /root/ cause, but a symptom presenting an out-sized impact.

Anyway, it like, resonated with me as someone who was also once a young girl with undiagnosed dyslexia/learning disabilities, with all-devouring depression, with suicidal urges, with eating disorders no one recognized. And no support structure but my hyperfixations on fictional characters and the friendships I had with other fans via internet communities. It's just such a painful, painful book to read because even though the cultural context and fandom context is so completely different (I was born and raised in the US, I have no idea what girls in Japan go through), it resonated SO MUCH.

The ending is also something I like a lot- it's not a Happy Ending(TM) at all, but I found it much more impactful in its realism. Akari is not "better," she is still in such a bad place, but she's taking these small steps to break the self-destructive cycle she's ended up with. And that's what's important- is the small steps, and the acknowledgment that there are steps to be taken at all.

Also, the ending of the English edition has a letter written by the author addressing her younger brother, who has dyslexia, and discussing the failures of the Japanese education system regarding disabled students. She says in the letter herself, that her brother will never read it because it's in English, and she'll likely never say any of what she wrote to him, but the letter was still so, so, so affecting... Just, this acknowledgment of both her brother's struggles, and how she added to those struggles when they were younger and she understood less. Much like how Akari's older sister in the novel can't understand why Akari struggles so much, and takes out her own frustration on Akari- her frustration at bearing so much responsibility in a family with a single, over-worked mother, and no matter how much she tries to steer her sister in the right direction and help her (taking on the role of a mother for her), nothing seems to help. It's not something children can help! It's the adults refusing to see that the system they set in place is not helping these children!!

But the letter also says that though the Japanese education system almost failed the author's brother, he was able to go to a school specifically for children with learning disabilities, and he excelled and now leads a happy, successful life. Akari doesn't get that in the book; Akari's story is the other side of the coin. But where the ending of Akari's story is not quite happy, it's like a soothing balm to read that the author's real, living, breathing brother got his own happy ending.

Angels Before Man by rafael nicolás (Did Not Finish lol):

OK. OK I SUPER HATE THIS BOOK SO MUCH JESUS CHRISTTTTTTTT OK. Ok. So this is a "queer retelling of the fall of Lucifer." Right? And I, being an ex-catholic trans faggot, am totally into reclaiming Lucifer in the name of being a filthy dirty gay heathen? Right??

But this book is sooooooooooooooo

I'm gonna make a bullet point list

It's extremely unimaginative when it comes to what Heaven and angels are like, for one.We have some mentions of chariots and ophanim who are these otherworldly beings, but 99% of the cast are just regular Joe Schmo cis dudes with wings. They live in a very run of the mill pseudo-Roman town with regular buildings and colisseums and bathhouses and stores. It's very uninspired imo. They pass their time talking, lounging, bathing, trading fruits and eating, and competing in the colisseum, and just... not very Angelic??

The first 150 pages is some of the most repetitive writing I have read in years. I kid you not, the book starts with Lucifer's creation and then for the next 150 pages it is just variations of: Lucifer is lost and confused; Lucifer cries; everyone compliments Lucifer's beauty; Lucifer cries over being beautiful; they eat some fruit and walk to see people; they go on flying lessons; repeat. repeat. repeat. EVERYTHING IS DESCRIBED WHEN ITS NOTE VEN NECESSARY FOR ANYTHING BUT PADDINGGGGG

Also Lucifer's shame over being beautiful: WHY is he ashamed? Every single time he gets attention because of his beauty and being God's favorite, every time someone compliments his beauty, we get a paragraph about how ashamed he is of his beauty and his body, but never WHY. There are no details about what is causing him this shame. And if God made him to be beautiful, to embody beauty, why would he have any shame over it? Why is he ashamed of the being he was made to be, the attribute he was hand-crafted to embody? We're not given anything deeper than "Lucifer is so ashamed and he cries and cries and cries." Stop crying over being pretty god damn!!

Basically none of the characters have any voice or personality except for like, Uriel and God. Lucifer's personality is crying and being confused and having a crush on Michael. I'm not even kidding. Maybe some hyperbole but everything in this book is so FLAT and LIFELESS.

Also Lucifer is created not knowing a single thing about existence- he doesn't know what roads are, or what water is, or what air is, or what creation is- but this is also close-third person POV and his internal narration is constantly making reference to things you'd assume he'd be unaware of. Sometimes there will be some metaphor or comparison to an object, that a few pages/chapters later Lucifer will be introduced to for the first time. It just really takes you out of the story, you know?

OK the big thing though

the thing that pissed me off the most?

The entire thing that brings about the fall of Lucifer is being raped by God.

lmao

lmao!!!!

OK see I could see this kind of narrative being potentially compelling and meaningful in the hands of a good, experienced writer but that's not this writer. No. It just is such utter fucking garbage that, to me, personally, was outright offensive as a survive of CSA/incest. This is horrible writing, and horrible handling of the subject matter. It's just, so poorly thought out in so many ways.

Literally the mainstream opinion in Catholicism already is that child sexual abuse survivors are sinned, stained, ruined by the abuse and violence they have suffered. This does not add a single new thing. ugh. ighhhhh!!!

On top of that the writing of the CSA itself and Lucifer's emotional interiority in the aftermath were really fucking shallow for a book that has this as the traumatic pivot of the narrative and Lucifer's character arc into becoming a fallen, corrupted being. It's literally "he's this poor shaking crybaby everyone loves->God violently abuses him->he has violently gone off the deep down and lost his mind in some of the most cliche writing I've seen yet"

And to top it off the writing is full of spelling errors, grammar errors, punctuation errors especially-- I do not say this lightly because I am someone who writes fanfic and holds it near and dear to my heart, but this reads more like someone took a fanfic directly off Wattpad or AO3 and slapped it into a book with no editing. It is so. Bad. good lord!

If this was just porn I would not care nearly as much, like whatever gets your noncon kink rocks off, but this isn't porn, this is trying to be a deep insightful exploration on sexual trauma and incest and I can't deal with how bad it was.

[yourdoorisunlocked]

ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴅᴀʏ ᴠᴇxᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ - ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

𝐀/𝐍: Whew! Ok, I'm taking a small break right now- I have one more request to do, and ofc as soon as I can I'll finish it, but I don't want to burn myself out or anything.

I'm just taking a quick writing rehab right now. Nonetheless, the banter was so fun to do, and I hope you all like it!

If I do write another chapter for the week, it'll probably be for What A Dish, What A Doll!

➺ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,903 ➺ Song Recommendation: 𝓔𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓬 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 | 𝓑𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓼

. . .

The chill of February’s frosted breath graced the glass panes of the largest building in the Vee’s district, an imposing force that not-so-subtly hinted at how far their influence and power expanded across the Sinner’s Circle of Hell, as it stood right in the heart of the Pride Ring for all to flock to. No matter how depraved, sadistic, or perverted you were, the territory of the Vees surely had something in store for your insatiable appetite to feast upon. 

And since the first twenty-four hours of the infamously romantic month, chaos had erupted within the offices of the Vees. Other than Halloween, it was the greatest vice of Vox’s hellish existence, filling his calendar to the brim with meetings, product improvement, managing holiday events and sales, and not to mention Velvet’s stupid “Love Potion” gimmick- 

For Christ’s sake, the goddamn holiday started with a ‘V’! Their brand of perfection practically relied on that lovey-dovey nonsense. 

For the past week, the only thing filling up Vox’s schedule and keeping him from you was showcasing shitty rom coms with horribly conceived plots, Velvet rushing around like a mini-hurricane and destroying everything in her wake for her latest fashion show, and Valentino? 

Oh, don’t even get Vox fucking started. 

And now, after all of that overwhelming bullshit that kept him from warming your bed for the past few days, Vox desperately wanted – no, needed to escape and spend quality time with his darling. With you.  

He had the usual Valentine’s Day blueprint in mind: eat ice cream and binge-watch your favorite TV-shows, while you flustered the hell out of him with your affections and make hot chocolate, and then fall asleep in each other’s arms by the fire.

Mundane, cheesy shit like that was the highlight of his days after another exhausting workday keeping it all roped together and navigating Velvet and Valentino's nonsense. 

Their facade was of modern sophistication, perfection at its very finest that was produced for only those who could afford it, and it was all piled into Vox’s lap to regulate the chaotic, unpredictable behavior of his fellow Overlords, and keep their volatile nature in check. 

But the continuous hardship that came with his stressful job would fade with the wintry wind as soon as he stepped off the elevator and into your shared penthouse, and like a patch of sunlight to snow, you’d melt away all his worries with a smile and a rub of his head as you took care of him for the night. 

Almost there... 

The television demon groaned as he crossed the threshold over to your apartments, seeing no need to keep up his perfectly aligned posture. 

And, like a mercy served by Gods, Vox was met with the heavenly sight of you standing in your fluffy, midnight blue bathrobe that you’d received on your birthday, courtesy of Val. Vox would’ve personally burned it to high hell, but you adored the design, and he couldn’t resist you when you pleaded with him. 

“Vox...” crossing your arms at the doorway, his light, his spark, his reason to maintain everything about his own reputation stood with a stern furrow in your brow as you strode over to him. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve been overworking yourself again, love,” you grumbled as you took off his bowtie and removed his coat, and you smoothed out the front of his striped vest as Vox stumbled for an answer. 

“I-” *sigh* “I’m not pushing myself that much. You know how the job is, especially around this time,” seeing your face fall and your lips tighten into a straight line, Vox took your hand, squeezing it within his gloved palms as his sharp teeth pulled into a small half-smile. 

“But coming home to you makes it all worth it,” a tender hand dancing with waves of tingling sparks cupped your cheek, and with a heavy sigh, you looked to him with concern and affection swirling within your tender gaze. 

“Yeah, yeah. All I’m saying is those two bumbling excuses of Overlords should at least give you a couple of days off,” you scowled softly, but your frown melted into a flustered pout as Vox kissed it away, and a soft buzz of electricity lingered against your lips. 

“Now, now, enough of that, my dear. We still have the whole night to ourselves, don’t we?” You giggled, a long-awaited melody to his ears as Vox spun you around to press your back against his chest. How beautifully the sound replaced Velvet's usual grating, shrill voice that penetrated his ears. How agreeable you were, that you didn't fight him like Valentino, that you truly cared about him and his well-being.

Sometimes, you'd even force his workaholic ass to return to your apartment and get him ready for bed, practically hauling your grumbling, overworked hubby into bed, and forcing him to sleep in the next morning.

And it was the sappy, lovesick moments like these always reminded Vox that he'd never find anyone else like you.

All the more reason to keep you tightly within his grasp...

“Yeah, I guess, so. You dork,” you flicked the very center of your husband’s face, and he blinked a few times in surprise before chuckling and shaking his head. 

“Oh, yeah? And what does that make you for loving me~?” Vox swayed against you gently, his inner fans suddenly warming himself up more than usual as he poorly attempted to conceal his light blush at having you so close.

Your laughter chimed through the air like the first sunbeams breaking through stormy gray clouds upon the aftermath of a thunderstorm. 

“Well, I suppose that makes me your lover,” you simpered right back at him, turning your head slightly so you could stand on your tiptoes and kiss him.

It felt almost like a dream when you were in Vox’s arms like this. Simply existing with each other, standing above the Pride Ring as if you ruled the entire Sinner’s Circle. Untouchable, ambitious, and madly in love. 

As if on cue, the sound of a gentle, reflective saxophone poured from the speakers installed within the penthouse as the lights dimmed, and you felt yourself drifting away as you swayed with your husband.  

The soft buzz of electricity bounced against your figure as Vox stared down at you, his dead, automated heart pounding erratically as his hands slid from yours down to your waist, digging into the fabric of your robe with sharpened claws. 

“Vox...?” 

“Yes, my dear?” 

With a deep breath, you lilted your voice as you spoke to him, in hopes that seeming more placating and docile could shake Vox’s stance upon his insistence to work himself to the bone. No more would you allow yourself to stand hopelessly to the side while you watched your husband work himself into such a distressed, sleep-deprived state. 

“I’m putting my foot down. You’re not going back to that horrible place for the next week, at least.” Vox stiffened at your tone of finality. 

“Excuse me?” He chuckled as if you were joking with him, but your resolute glare told him otherwise. “Check your phone.” 

With a hesitant glance towards his pocket, Vox slowly pulled out his phone, only to find that, in fact, every work-related app had been temporarily blocked from the device. 

Raising an eyebrow, he looked back at you and tapped your nose with a haughty smirk. “Nice try, but it’s going to take more than that for me to fall for your wiles, my dear,”  

When you only grinned up at him with no hint of malice nor any trace of exasperation tugging at your usual, beautiful smile, his triumphant grin fell. “Why are you looking at me like that? What...” 

 A slow realization turned in Vox's mind as he recollected the last few days, when you were poking and prodding at him and his programming for “no apparent reason,” and he wrote it off as curiosity born from your boredom while being locked up at the penthouse apartment. 

But by fuck, he was really regretting indulging you right now, for once. 

With a surge of panic, Vox immediately blue-screened, as he mentally checked for any of his work-related tabs and files, only to find them completely, and suspiciously empty. 

No notes. No texts. No documents. 

Nothing. 

You... You fucking hacked into his mainframe!? 

His interface returned to normal to find you slumped against him, only perking up when you saw your husband had returned from his frenzied search of the crime that had been committed; the heinous act of keeping Vox from working.

And here the culprit was standing, swooning and relaxing in his hold, nuzzling against him as if she wasn’t to blame for his entire workspace vanishing off the face of the Earth for the next seven days.

“Well...?” 

“...How long have you been planning this?” Vox was absolutely aghast. He knew you could be impulsive, perhaps even irrational, compared to your cool, collected husband, but this was... 

You grinned triumphantly as you tapped his nose right back. 

“I just thought you could use a few days off, spending some time in your wife's company for Valentine's Day~..."

“But when did you- No, how the hell-?” 

“It seems that you’ve fallen victim to my wiles yet again,” 

“Oho, you sneaky little-!” Vox practically tackled you into a hug as he discharged a small bout of electricity, tickling you with an electrifying warmth, just by holding you against him. 

“C’mon, I’ve got another surprise for you,” with a soft giggle and a gentle tug of his antenna, you pulled Vox from the floor as his free hand shot up to his hat with a small, bashful frown. 

“I told you to stop that!” He outwardly groaned, but you could hear the flustered electrical buzz that Vox emitted whenever you did something to him that he really liked.  

“You know I don’t like it,” he muttered, but as always, you saw right through him. 

“And we both know that’s one of the biggest lies you’ve ever told me,” you grinned back at him cheekily as you pulled him into the living area, where you had spent most of your afternoon setting up when Vox was occupied with his work. 

In the living room, you had set up a small, cozy gaming area. It then hit Vox just how long you had been setting this up, waiting for him to drop his guard and into your scheming hands.

That little criminal...

Two controllers, one for you, and one for Vox, sat upon a pile of fluffy blankets. A few pillows draped in silk cloth surrounded the area on the couch, and before it upon the coffee table, there sat a freshly made bowl of popcorn, and various other chocolate candies and snacks.

“Hm... Seems like someone’s been itching for a rematch.” A challenge glinted in his sensors, and you leaned into him with an equally blazing ire.

"You wanna bet...?"

. . .

“GODDAMN FUCKING BLUE SHELL! I’LL DESTROY YOU, YOU SPIKED SON OF A BITCH!”  

“HA-HA! GUESS WHO’S IN THE LEAD, NOW!?”  

Your fingers pressed the controller furiously as the TV blared in front of you, and as you crossed the finish line, you let out a whoop of victory, nearly falling out of Vox’s lap in your bout of triumph. 

“Yes!” “No!! Fuck!”  

You and Vox shouted simultaneously, making you burst into a fit of triumphant laughter as he groaned and slumped defeatedly behind you. 

“Are you serious!? That’s the fifth time in a row!” Vox nearly crushed his controller in his vice grip as he threw a slew of curses at the TV.  

The two of you had been playing Mario Kart for the past hour, blissfully unaware of how your gaming match had whisked the both of you into a heated competition of bumper cars and tallying points for each round someone won, and the winner would be picking the movie you watched.

You stuck your tongue out at him with a victorious beam. “It seems the Nintendo wants us to watch the Kissing Booth tonight,” you giggled madly when Vox’s face scrunched up in disgust.  

“Yeah, babe, there is no way I’m watching that.” 

“Aw, come on, I won fair and square!" you leaned into your husband, who sighed with exasperation but softened at the sight of your pout. 

“Please...? I promise we’ll watch whatever you want tomorrow!” 

“It’s my first day off the job, and you want to watch the goddamn Kissing Booth!?” 

"Pretty please, Sparks?" Vox’s aura buzzed softly at the nickname, and he narrowed his eyes down at you as you begged him with your puppy eyes.

“Playing dirty, huh? Fine. Let’s watch your dumbass movie,” Vox pouted with crossed arms as he slumped into the couch in defeat and his antenna buzzed softly in annoyance. It sparked abruptly when you clapped excitedly and pulled him by his collar to lay a tender kiss on his cheek.  

“Thank you! I promise, you’ll love it,” you grinned mischievously and grabbed the remote. 

Vox, in fact, did not love it. In fact, it was so bad that you both started watching it ironically and threw jabs at it occasionally.   

“So, who do you think she should pick? Her psycho-controlling best friend, or the pretty boy with anger issues~,” You leaned your head against his shoulder as you shoveled a handful of popcorn into your mouth, your eyes glued to the screen. 

Vox sighed and rubbed his forehead, equally as invested as you were despite your shared frustration with the film.  

“Honestly? She should dump both of them and run for the goddamn hills.”  

You snorted. “Yeah? Well, I would’ve chosen her boyfriend. He gets better over the next couple of movies.” Vox raised an eyebrow at you. “Seriously?”  

Popping a few M&Ms into your mouth, you nodded at him. “Yeah, I’m serious! He gets some serious character development,” you mutter sarcastically, before licking your lips with a shit-eating grin. “He seems really cold and angry on the outside, but he’s not so bad once you get to know him.” 

Nudging his shoulder, you glance not-so-subtly up at him, and Vox took the hint, tickling your sides softly with a smirk. 

“And I’m a dork?” 

“Yeah, and you’re a contagious one, too!” Your hands grabbed at his arms as he crushed you into a hug, pulling you even closer as he rested his head upon yours. 

“Well, then I guess that makes two of us, doesn’t it my dear~?”  

“No! Stop! Please, I can't breathe!” You attempted to flail around dramatically, but within Vox's vice grip, that was next to impossible. 

“Ah-ah-ah! I’m afraid you’re trapped within my wiles, darling!” 

“Curse you! How dare you use my own spells against me!” You giggled as he continued his bombardment of tickles and small, feathered kissing against your nape and the small back of your neck. 

Soon, your laughter died down and you both fell silent as you finished the rest of the movie.

While you slowly began to drift off into sleep in Vox's arms, spent from the day of preparing your apartment for your husband's arrival, he looked down at you with a tender half-smile.

I can't believe someone like you would even look at someone like me...

"Hey, babe-?" He whispered out into the dark, before huffing out a chuckle when he realized you were still asleep.

With a soft smile, and a tender patter of his heart, Vox scooped you up and whisked you away to your bedroom, where he silently dresses you up in a pair of pajamas, and tucked you into bed.

Ever so gently, Vox laid a few of the blankets over your form, dragging them and the silk pillows back from the couch to make his little sleeping beauty ever the more comfortable.

He looked upon you as you dozed the minutes away, blissfully oblivious to the war that raged inside of him. 

While Vox was impressed that you had managed to somehow hack into his mainframe and alter his actual mental programming, it really would take more than basic understanding – plus, you pulled it off unguarded. Now, of course, this spawned a new problem for him, but he’d deal with it in due time. Besides, it’d give him a proper excuse to slack off a little bit, with you. 

God, what was he thinking? The old Vox would’ve seen such a desire to goof around with some girl while the other two Vees went around wreaking havoc and partaking in whatever idiocy without Vox to keep them in check. 

But you weren’t just ‘some girl’ to him. 

And frankly, those two clowns could go fuck themselves. 

A part of Vox wanted to remain in your bed, for your sake, but there was work to be done, and Velvet no doubt was positively livid at the fact that he wasn’t answering any of her calls. 

So, with a newfound confidence in his advances, your husband bent over you, softly pinching your chin within his finely sharpened claws, and laying a few tender kisses trailing from your lips down to your nape. 

I wish I could do this to you when you’re awake... But that smile, fuck, I can’t even form sentences without fumbling when you look at me like all you want is to give me the world. 

You groaned and turned over within the sheets, scooching towards him with a soft furrow in your brow.

Vox kissed it away, before reluctantly pulling away from your side, standing at the door with a small, yearning smile.

“Til morning, my dear.” 

. . . 

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Happy Valentine's Day from our favorite crazy-ass TV demon!

I'm sorry I didn't get to post this yesterday, but I was feeling so unmotivated by the end of it, and I decided to rewrite most of this fluff fic, just to give you all a quality post.

I don't half-ass things, especially when it comes to writing, that's just why my fics take a while to post.

Anyways, thank you so much for reading, and comments are always appreciated!

. . . 

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @matrixbearer2024

[biibini]

Could you possibly write something for modern mizu with a gf that bakes alot during the odd hours at night due to insomnia to past the time :^ due to this, mizu gets gifted a bunch of sweets and pastries

modern!mizu x baker!reader (request)

a/n: this is such a cute idea omg,,, personally im more of a cook over baker (my roomie bakes more than me) but i do like a good pastry. time to add my fav gif of mizu … isn’t she just so dreamy 😻

the first few times u stayed over, u were able to sleep in peace with mizu

surprisingly, ur insomnia didn’t keep u fully awake while ur gf was sleeping

feeling her warm arms wrap around ur body made u feel more secure as u started to slumber

u weren’t fully knocking out every night but it became easier to fall asleep and stay asleep for a good duration of the night

it felt so satisfying to finally sleep through most nights

as midterms became closer & closer, the quality of ur sleep began to decrease dramatically

most nights spent with mizu ended up into some

and then some nights became few

at first, u attempted to hide ur insomnia with using homework and projects as an excuse

initally, they weren’t excuses but u had played the card so much that it started to become one

It was a week and a half before midterms week, aka hell on earth. You and Mizu had just finished dinner, now relaxing on her bed. While she was busy on her phone, you were preparing to find the best way to fall asleep successfully. Staring into your laptop in front of you, you felt her get up from the bed.

She walked over to the bathroom and getting ready to go slumber. You on the other hand, are still mentally stuck on how well you will sleep tonight.

Having insomnia meant having many off days and nights. During high-school, it was more difficult to manage your sleep schedule due to the amount of extra-curricular activities and schoolwork you had to balance while growing up. You’ve found a few ways and simple tricks to fight against it.

One way that helped you calm down during high school was baking. A messy task, yes, but the end result was worth it. It had been a few years since it’s gotten this bad. Junior year was a while ago, and the thought of college during that time sent your stress levels through the roof.

Maybe bringing back baking wouldn’t be so bad…

“Hey baby?”

You snapped out of your empty stare and look up at Mizu.

“Yes?”

“Are you going to wash up soon? It’s past midnight and you have a 9 AM tomorrow.” she reminded. Mizu knew how grumpy you could be the next day if you stayed up too long.

“Yeah, um” you glance at your computer only to find a title slide on a history presentation, “I’ll sleep soon, I just want to finish my part of this project.”

Mizu nodded as she turned off every light except for the night next to you. You look up to her, a small smile growing on your face.

“M’kay,” she placed a hand on your cheek and planted a soft kiss on your forehead, “Just not too late.”

She moved to your lips, giving them a good night kiss.

“I’ll try.” You say as you reach for her face to share another good night kiss. You lower the brightness of your laptop as Mizu tucks herself in next to you.

An hour later, you end up finish your part of the presentation. You check your phone to let your group know about your completion. Putting it down, you read the time. 1:30 AM.

Fuck, you should really get some sleep for tomorrow’s lecture.

You slowly get out of bed, checking to make sure Mizu hasn’t waken up from your movement. All you hear is a turn to the other side away from you.

Whew.

You plug in your laptop quickly on the desk, making sure that all the lights in the apartment were closed. You gently tugged at the sheets, tucking yourself in as quietly as you could. As you started to close your eyes, you took a deep breath.

In. Out.

In. Out.

In. Out.

A grumble could be heard from Mizu, turning back towards you. You feel her hands try to find you, slowly grabbing what she could find. As she pulled you closer, you continued to relax your body.

Eyes closed, mind empty.

Yet, your mind does reach a thought. An anxious thought.

What if I wake up tired, like before?

You try to shake away the thought, enveloping yourself with Mizu’s presence. Forcing your eyes shut, you continue to take slow & deep breaths.

2:30 rolls in and you’re still stuck trying to fall asleep. Technically, you should be in dreamland right now instead of being awake. Your eyes are heavy but they not too heavy to completely close. Your body is still yet your mind keeps racing.

You trusted your old tricks would help you fall asleep. Hoping that they would work, your mind finally begins to clear up and rest.

as the days went by, it got progressively worse and worse

it went to the point where u were just always up, maybe spare an hour or two for a nap, and then the nightly attempt to fall asleep next to mizu

ur aware of what was happening yet ur mind wouldn’t stop running at full speed

u wish ur mind would just shut off

and if it wasn’t ur mind staying awake for once, it was ur body keeping u awake

it was so tiring to think ab peace night after night after night, hoping for a good nights sleep but to end up feeling drained and half awake once the sun rose

on nights where ur mind or body wouldn’t shut down, u ended up succumbing to ur old habits and took out the baking pan & sheets

u thought u could stay quiet like a few years before

on the other hand, mizu began to notice the slight changes in the house

whenever she would wake up for morning workouts, ur laptop would open and on ur lap

or the baking pan and whisks and mixing bowls would be dripping wet on the drying rack

once she found a new loaf of bread in the pantry, something was up

she figured u were just up cleaning late at night as a break from the late night homework grind

but with the random loaf, it didn’t quite fit the story she had in mind

one early morning, she heard a metal noise mid toilet and tiktok session in

(a/n: i’m guilty of doing that too sorry)

concerned, she went go check in the bedroom to find an empty bed

“Y/N?” she quietly called into the hallway.

God damnit.

You had accidentally banged the baking pan on the oven’s metal rack. You quickly slid the pan into the oven, hoping the croissants u had just prepped wouldn’t be seen. You peeked over your shoulder to see Mizu’s eyes half awake, trying to comprehend what she was seeing.

You quickly checked the time on the clock. No way it was already time for her workout.

5:30 AM.

“Morning, Mizu.” A weak smile spread on your face. You felt blood rushing to your cheeks, stemming from the embarrassment of getting caught in the act.

“I just went to the bathroom and heard a noise. What’s going on, Y/N?”

She looked down into the oven, spotting the croissants.

“Did you want a sweet treat that badly?” her voice questioning you and slightly concerned. She walked towards you and gently pressed your hand.

“No, it’s just that…”

“That?”

You took a deep breath as you glanced down at her hand grasping onto yours. You look up to her eyes, ready to tell the truth. Her blue eyes seemed more awake and ready to listen, almost glowing in the dark.

“I have insomnia.” You let the truth spill out. “It hasn’t been this bad since high school but coping with it has been a bit difficult these days. I’ve tried so many ways to shut my mind off but nothing’s working.”

“Aw, baby…”

“And the best way I managed it back when it was worse was baking. It helped me keep my mind off things and pass the time.” You took a step back to find your phone and put on a timer for 12 minutes.

“So here I am. Back to old habits.” You ended, sighing in relief. You weren’t sure of what Mizu’s reaction would be. A little part of you was frightened, anxiously waiting for her response.

You didn’t expect her next actions. She let go of your hand and headed toward the sink, calmly washing the bowls and other dishes that have collected over the night.

Stunned, you watched as she continued to wash up. You looked over to see her reaction only to find a calm face.

“Mizu?” you asked, still confused about her response.

She looked up, her hands still cleaning the mixing bowls you had used.

“Did you need help with anything else before I go to the gym? I know insomnia must be hard to cope with but if this is what helps you pass the time,” Mizu finishing the final bowl, placing it gently on the dishwasher rack. “I’d like to help out in any way I can.”

“No, I’m okay but thank you for cleaning up for me.” Coming up to her, you give her a kiss on the cheek. She smiles at you and nods.

“Anytime, hon.”

She takes a glance at the clock. 5:40 AM.

“I’m gonna get ready now. Let me know if you need anything or any ingredients.” She hurries into the bedroom, getting ready to change into gym clothes.

“Okayyy.” You say, checking your phone for the timer.

A thought comes to mind.

“Actually, there is one thing you can do.” You say, following her into the bedroom. Mizu, mid-tying her hair, paused and gave you her full attention. “You can be my little taste tester.”

She chuckled as she fixed her hair into a bun.

“I get first dibs? For lil ol’ me?”, she says playfully as she grabs one of her light zip-up jackets from the closet, completing her workout outfit.

You nod happily. “Mhm. You can even request a recipe or two.”

How enticing, Mizu thought.

if u were up during her workout days, she would always find a fresh batch of pastries sitting on the dining table

on days that her or ringo had classes, u would leave a little bag or container of pastries that they go bring to school

u would always leave a little love note with a little heart and a “To my Mizu”

mizu loved the little gifts, especially if they were at her request

one night, she asked for a peach cobbler pie

woke up the next morning to find a slice in a container and a sticky note atop reading “a request for my love ♥︎”

she placed the sticky note by her desk

and brought the slice to school with her

after her class she shared with akemi, they decided to get some late morning tea by the coffee shop nearby

mizu’s eyes widen after the first bite settled in

it was bomb

peaches were practically bursting in her mouth

she continued to eat, trying to contain the deliciousness of the pie

she would text u later ab how good it was

in full detail

many paragraphs

many positive critiques

and end with a thank you for ur baking ♥︎

[pessimisticromantic]

Cold Body, Warm Blood Ch. 1

Words: 4.1k M/M Astarion x Redeemed Durge - 18+

Tags: Drama & Romance Slow Burn Past Abuse Past Sexual Abuse Past Torture Past Violence Blood and Violence Hurt/ComfortAngst and Hurt/Comfort Falling In Love Nightmares Blood Drinking Blood Kink Read on AO3 (recommended) Chapter 1 of ? (WIP)

Disclaimer: I own nothing other than my mind

A few spoilers for Act 1, but most of this nonsense is from my brain. (Apologies for any OOC, this is my first time writing Astarion)

Chapter 1: Blood Like Wine

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Tav stood in the middle of the goblin camp, multiple wounds covered his arms and torso. The viscera of goblins dripped off of his shaking fingertips. Blood matted his blonde hair and the furs of his lightweight armor. His chest heaved as he stared down at the broken body of Dror Ragzlin, the red mist of rage clouding his vision. His hands still felt the ghost of snapping bones, and the dark coiling thoughts in his mind flared with pleasure even through the haze of the blood rage. A small part of his mind recoiled from that darkness, disgusted and terrified of the intensity.

A concerned voice called out his name, and the back of his mind knew it was Shadowheart, but the rage had a strong grip. A few more murmured words and then a blur of white entered the corner of his vision. Tav whirled, raising one of his bloodied hand axes, and came face to face with the pale elf. Astarion. His crimson eyes were wary, but his voice was flippant, "Shall we get a move on, then? I fear the stench will cling to my clothes if I have to stay in this rank place any longer."

Tav blinked, the red mist clearing enough for him to reign in the dark thoughts and desires. He was bone weary, the exhaustion of his rage hitting him hard enough to cause him to stumble. Astarion darted forward, steadying the large half-elf barbarian. Tav straightened, flashing a tired smile at Astarion, who rolled his eyes in response and stepped back. Shadowheart stepped forward laying a hand on Tav's forearm, whispering a word as blue light flared underneath her hand, rushing up Tav's arm to begin healing his wounds. He could feel some of his exhaustion abating though a couple of the wounds still stayed open and angry, refusing to heal completely.

"Sorry, that's all I've left in me for today. Let's get back to camp and we can get the rest patched up," she said.

"You mean, I'll patch him up," Astarion corrected. He was the resident surgeon when magic and potions didn't quite finish the job. He preferred to mend the camp clothes, compared to skin, but had become quite skilled at the task.

Shadowheart barked out a short laugh and agreed with the vampire spawn. Tav turned his attention to their resident warlock who was searching through the dead, partly to make sure they were, in fact, all dead, and partly to look for any resources they could use. "Find anything of use, Wyll?" Tav said, sliding his two hand axes back into his broad leather belt.

The horned warlock stood from the body of a drow, brushing his hands off on his trousers as he did. "Not so much. A few weapons, a couple of potions, some rotten cheese." He approached the group, adjusting the knapsack he had thrown over his shoulder, "You took a beating for us today Tav. Let's head back to camp before darkness sets in. I want to get out of this armor and get clean. You look like you could sleep for a week."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Immediately upon making it back to camp, Shadowheart pulled Tav to the campfire, Karlach joining them curiously. "Whew, you look a mess, soldier. Tough time with the goblins, then?" she asked, sitting down on the fallen log they used as a seat.

"Yeah, I lost myself for a bit and might have taken more hits than I should have. Thankfully Shadowheart's helped with the majority of the serious one," Tav replied, sheepish as he scratched the back of his head then winced at the pain the movement caused.

"Sit, Tav. Astarion, would you bring your needle and thread, please? Oh, Karlach, could you fetch some water and warm it," Shadowheart asked as she knelt, fussing over the amount of blood and gore that covered Tav and his clothes.

"Hot water, coming right up," Karlach said enthusiastically, moving to the cooking bag and retrieving a large dented pot before briskly heading towards the nearby river.

Astarion said nothing, just washed his hands in his water basin next to his tent, then ducked into the tent to grab his sewing kit. By the time he popped back out of his tent and made his way to the campfire, Karlach was back with the water and clean rags.

"Sit on the log, Tav, and strip out of those disgusting furs," Astarion said as he scrutinized the cuts left on Tav's body. Grabbing one of the clean rags Astarion dipped it quickly in the hot water Karlach had put near the log and moved back to the now-sitting Tav, nudging aside one of his knees with his leg so he could stand closer. Tav watched as the pale elf knelt between his knees and couldn't help the desire that flared to life in his stomach. Swallowing hard he kept as still as he could as Astarion proceeded to wipe away blood near his various cuts and wounds. Most of the cuts had been mostly healed by Shadowheart's magic, but a couple dribbled blood still and Astarion mumbled to himself about getting those sewn up first.

Karlach nudged Shadowheart, giving the cleric a conspiratorial look, before grabbing up Tav's furs. "Just gonna go get these cleaned up, right, Shadowheart?"

"Oh! Uhm, yes. Don't mind us," Shadowheart said as they moved away, giving the two men some privacy. Neither man noticed, Astarion just grunted and continued grumbling to himself, and Tav had a hard time keeping his eyes off of the rogue.

It was no secret in the camp that Tav and Astarion had some sort of delicate relationship. Everyone knew that Tav allowed Astarion to feed on him, and that wasn't the only physical thing they got up to in the middle of the night.

"Now then, stay still while I get these taken care of," Astarion said, glancing up at the larger half-elf. Tav's cheeks and ear tips were flushed and his blue eyes were intense. "My dear, now is not the time for you to be looking at me like that."

Tav's eyes widened in embarrassment, "Sorry, I just...you caught me by surprise. My mind's a bit of a mess today," he said as he averted his gaze, looking out at the slowly meandering river as the sun danced and sparkled across the placid current. Tav felt the sharp prick of the needle as Astarion began his work. The pain barely registered in his mind afterward, so he continued to watch the sunset, letting his mind and eyes wander.

This little ragtag group had gone through a lot in the time they'd banded together. Surviving a crashing nautiloid ship, bandits, goblins, shadow druids, and even a hag of all things. With the goblin camp now decimated and scattered, this small section of the Sword Coast might be safe for a little while. That thought stirred a blossoming of warmth in Tav's chest. Even with these dark urges, and incredibly horrific fantasies, he was still able to help those in need. It caused Astarion to grumble and complain about 'pathetic heroes', but the pale elf had still reached out to Tav, and he had a hard time saying no to Astarion.

Feeling the subject of his thoughts shift between his legs, Tav's eyes were drawn back to the vampire spawn. He watched as Astarion's cool, dextrous fingers gently wiped away residual blood from the freshly sewn cut. Another gentle prick of the needle and Tav's eyes followed Astarion's hands as he worked. Slowly Tav found his gaze trailing its way to Astarion's face. The dying sunlight bathed him in warm oranges and burning reds, giving his usually pale skin a gently warm glow. The sight caught Tav's breath in his chest and he couldn't help but be captivated by the beauty in front of him.

Tav drank in the sight. The crease between Astarion's eyebrows as he concentrated. The lines around his mouth as the rogue frowned gently. The glittering depths of his crimson eyes, the sunlight turning them into ruby gems, framed by his long black lashes. The bruised look of the skin under his eyes lent his face an almost constant state of presumed tiredness. The way his hair curled around his ears. Tav found himself fantasizing about running his hands through those silver waves and watching the sunlight shimmer off them. Of kissing the dark circles under Astarion's eyes and filling his lungs with the smell of rosemary and bergamot soap.

"If you keep looking at me like that, I'll never finish patching you up, darling," Astarion purred as his crimson orbs looked up to Tav's face from underneath his lashes, hands stilled in their work, mid-suture. Tav was spellbound, unable to look away, blink, or even breathe. The irrational desire to pull Astarion up to his lips was overwhelming, but Tav managed to fight it down, having a plethora of experience fighting urges. Astarion had an unreadable expression on his face as he searched Tav's face and was eventually satisfied before he looked back down at his work.

"Come to my tent tonight," Tav said quietly, taking a shuddering breath after Astarion finished tying off the suture, keeping his eyes on Astarion, watching carefully to see the elf's reaction.

Astarion sat back on his heels, appraising his handiwork with a critical eye. His mouth formed a thin line before replying, "As much as I would love to, I don't think tonight would be a good idea. You lost a lot of blood today. I also don't want you ripping your stitches after all of my hard work."

Tav reached out a hand and gently tilted Astarion's head up by his chin, capturing his attention, "Not for that. And not for sex. I just...I'd like your company tonight. It's been a rough day."

Astarion's nose crinkled as he sneered, "No sex or blood? I'm offended, darling. What else do I keep you around for if not to be at my beck and call whenever I so desire?"

Tav could tell he was making light of the situation and gave the elf a bashful smile dropping his hand back to his lap, "I know, I'm a weak man. Can you forgive me for such an inconvenience to your time?"

Snorting a laugh Astarion looked away, the last dying embers of the sun turning the world varying shades of red and purple. Tav's eyes traced Astarion's profile, seeing the soft upward curve of the corner of the rogue's mouth, and knew that he would say yes. "Fine. But I'll expect a snack tomorrow, quid pro quo and all that."

"Of course. Though I'll remind you, I volunteered willingly. My snacks are freely given. I don't expect or need anything in return."

Astarion's red eyes flicked back to Tav's blue ones, his eyebrows crinkling together in thought before he looked away and began gathering his supplies. "Make sure you go clean up first. You smell horrid."

Tav laughed loudly, enough to draw curious looks from a few of their campmates, then stood to fetch his soap and a spare change of clothes.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Later that evening, Astarion found Tav down by the river, washing the pot, bowls, and spoons used for the stew that was dinner that night. The large half-elf was gently humming to himself as he crouched by the river, his hands submerged in the cold water as he gently rinsed the bowl. Astarion knew the barbarian hadn't noticed his presence yet, so he let his feet rustle a few leaves as he approached. It wouldn't do to surprise the half-elf and risk having a bowl to the face. Tav was exceptionally fast for such a large man. Astarion saw the subtle shift in Tav's posture and said, "Why is it, you always volunteer to do menial tasks around the camp? There are others that are perfectly capable of doing it."

Tav shifted so he could see Astarion from the corner of his eye, humming thoughtfully as he pulled the bowl from the water, "Hmmm, well I like to do it. It eases the other's burdens and costs me nothing. So why not?"

Astarion stayed silent, staring out at the water as the moonlight danced across the water, bathing the world in the greys of night. Tav watched fascinated by the contrast of the muted greys versus the gentle flickering oranges of the campfire behind the pale elf.

Tav could feel the tension rolling off the other man and quickly finished rinsing the dishes, stacking them in the well-used pot. He stood with the pot in his hands and turned to Astarion, feeling quite nervous about approaching the vampire spawn. "I lied. I-I'm sorry. I guess it's not quite a lie. More of an avoidance of the truth."

Astarion looked at Tav with a raised eyebrow, confusion wrinkling his forehead. "What?"

Shifting his weight, Tav swallowed hard and blurted out, "I volunteer because I hate myself for what I've done." Digging his fingers into the metal of the pot, he could feel it buckle just slightly to the pressure, "It's...it's my penance for...Alfira."

Astarion snorted, ridicule coloring his voice, "She's dead. She doesn't care what you do. Neither does anyone else in this camp. We're all just looking out for ourselves after all." He turned away from Tav's hurt expression, looking back towards the water and the slowly rising moon.

"I can't believe that, Astarion. If I do...I'm afraid of what I'd become. What I'd do to y-" Tav said desperately and choked off the end. He couldn't let Astarion know just how much he meant to him. Not yet, at least. Panic welled in his chest as he cleared his throat, "Everyone here is depending on me. Therefore, I need to lead accordingly." Adjusting his grip on the pot, he walked away, back towards the light of the campfire. Back towards the sounds of laughter and hope, leaving the vampire spawn to his thoughts.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Tav slipped into his tent, letting the flap fall closed, blocking the majority of the light from the campfire, and muffling the sounds of Karlach, Wyll, and Gale chatting. Wyll had pulled out a lyre, from somewhere, and was attempting to tune it, which was giving Gale and Karlach a wonderful amount of enjoyment. Apparently, Wyll had once learned a few songs, but it had been years since the warlock had played.

Tav pulled off his off-white rough-sewn shirt, tossing it in the corner before he sat down on his bed rolls and furs. Looking down his fingers traced the stitches on his chest and abdomen. They were only slightly swollen and thankfully free of any angry red spots, so it was probably not infected. Heaving a sigh, he laid back folding his hands under his head as a makeshift pillow. He stared up at the tent ceiling. It had been quite a long day. He could feel the exhaustion beginning to crack through his willpower once again and his eyes fluttered closed. The sound of his friend's playful banter and the poorly tuned lyre faded into the background, as darkness enveloped his mind.

Tav's eyes snapped open, looking for the source of the noise. Seeing the darkened silhouette sliding into his tent, his heart thundered in his chest until a soft shushing sound came from the figure, "Shhhh. Wouldn't do to wake the rest of the camp, would it?"

Astarion.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," Tav said sitting up. His tent was dark, and the campfire outside had settled into a low burn of embers and coals. He could make out the pale white shirt Astarion wore as it drifted closer.

"I told you would. I just needed to go get dinner for myself first," Astarion murmured, the timbre of his voice lower than usual. He sat down next to Tav, his cold fingers reaching out and gently touching the sutures he'd done earlier in the day. Tav realized Astarion had stopped pretending to breathe, his body still, his expression a confusing jumble of emotions.

Before Tav could react, Astarion spat out, his voice filled with venom as his face twisted into a vicious snarl, "You're incredibly stupid."

Leaning back from the vampire spawn's touch, Tav couldn't help the hurt he felt. He knew Astarion was just upset and attempting to take it out on him. Astarion's scornful face cracked again, the vulnerability peeking through the mask. He was afraid. Tav leaned forward again, pressing his chest against Astarion's cold fingers once more. "I am. But I like to think it's worth it. It keeps you all safe," Tav said gently, reaching up to cover Astarion's hand with his own. His heart was pounding and he knew the pale elf could feel it.

"You can't keep us safe if you're dead from a spear to the gut."

"A measly spear wound isn't enough to take me down and you know it."

Silence filled the tent as they sat together in the darkness. Astarion hadn't pulled away like he usually would. His cold hand was slowly warming from the contact with Tav's skin. "You're disgusting, darling," Astarion said defeatedly, all venom drained from his voice, "Disgustingly good. Heroic. Selfless. Why? Why do it?"

"If I don't, the darkness inside me wins," Tav replied, rubbing his thumb against the back of Astarion's hand, "Then the tadpole wins. I don't want to see that future. So, I fight it. With everything I have." Tav paused struggling to find the right words, "I'll admit. I do need help sometimes. I...I can't do this alone. That's why I put up with all of you weirdos."

Astarion chuckled, pulling his hand away to run it through his hair, the curls catching the dim light of the campfire outside. "Surely we don't need Gale, right?"

Tav snorted a laugh, falling back to the bedroll, "We do in fact need the wizard from Waterdeep. He's incredibly skilled."

Astarion leaned down, his face hovering over Tav's a smirk playing along his lips, "He's skilled, is it? In what might I ask? And how would you know?"

A mischievous grin slowly grew on Tav's face, "Oh wouldn't you like to know."

Astarion looked shocked at the suggestion, "I would never, with that windbag, he likes to hear himself talk too much. I prefer to hear myself talk."

Tav laughed and reached up sliding a hand up to the side of Astarion's neck, feeling the slight bumps of the bite scars from Cazador, giving Astarion the chance to pull away or agree to the intimacy. He never wanted Astarion to feel forced into interactions with him. Tav's heart had broken when Astarion told him what Cazador had put him through for 200 years. He knew there was more the pale elf wasn't revealing, but Tav had his own demons and dark urges he had to wrestle with. He understood how tough it was to be vulnerable with others.

Astarion slowly lowered himself further, until his lips ghosted across Tav's own. Anticipation and desire tangled in Tav's stomach, as he could smell the rich rosemary and bergamot soap Astarion had made during downtime at the camp. Their eyes were locked together and Astarion whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he purred out, "Darling, I thought I told you, you need rest tonight."

Tav licked his lips, biting his bottom lip before he replied, "You did, yes. I, however, am an incredibly stubborn and stupid man."

The dim light caught a shine in Astarion's eyes as they narrowed, appraising the half-elf below him. Tav stared up at him, his face open and relaxed, though the jumping muscle of his jaw told the truth of his inner emotions. Astarion let the man squirm a few more heartbeats then he said softly, "Then I will be gentle," before he finally pressed his lips to Tav's as he straddled the larger man. Desire welled within him, feeling the half-elf below him, willing and ready. Tav's heat was almost too much to bear as Astarion ran his hands along the other man, reveling in his strong body. Tav's hands buried into Astarion's silver locks, fingernails gently scratching against his scalp, applying just enough pressure to elicit a moan from Astarion's lips. The pale elf flung himself back, pulling himself halfway off of Tav before his mind even registered.

"Astarion?" Tav asked, bewildered as he sat up, one hand froze in the space between them, like he had reached out but stopped himself from completing the touch. His pupils were dilated so much that his eyes almost looked black in the darkness.

Astarion fought the roiling emotions inside his gut, frozen in place, crouched near the closed flap of the tent. He thought that perhaps, this one was different. It felt different. It felt nice, comforting, and dare he think it...safe. And yet the self-hatred, loathing, and disgust had exploded through him the moment he allowed himself to feel and enjoy the moment.

Tav was kneeling in front of him now, not touching, but close enough that Astarion could feel the warmth radiating off the man. "'Star, you're shaking. Is-Is it the tadpole? What do you need me to do," Tav asked, his voice wavering just enough to betray his worry. His eyes were still wide, but Astarion could now see the deep blue again, and for some reason that comforted the vampire spawn.

He was able to breathe again, even though his lungs required no air, the comfort of the familiar helped to ground him again. Shame flooded through him, he should have never let himself get into this situation. "I can't do this," he groaned weakly, his voice shaking.

Tav's face grew pained, and Astarion felt a surge of panic, he couldn't lose Tav, his protection. The artifact Tav now carried kept them all safe, so long as they stayed under its protection. If Tav became displeased and Astarion shivered at the thought. "I'm sorry, what I meant is I need a moment, to...collect myself," he said again his voice stronger as he began to build his walls back up, the creep of cold numbness spreading in his chest. He would do what he had to, to stay safe. He slid to his knees, his hand reaching for Tav's trouser laces. He couldn't look at the half-elf, afraid of what his eyes might betray.

Tav grabbed Astarion's wrist, halting the other man's movement. "Astarion, look at me. Please." Astarion flinched hearing the pain in Tav's voice and slowly met the other man's gaze. "I can't begin to know what all you've gone through, 'Star, but you don't have to do anything you don't want to do," Tav said gently, sliding his hands to cradle Astarion's hand, "I would never force your hand. If that means we take it slow, or not at all, I won't begrudge you that autonomy."

Astarion's vision blurred and he realized, he was crying. Him. Crying. Ridiculous. And yet he couldn't reign them in as they fell unbidden and before he knew it Tav had pulled him into a hug, crooning soft words of comfort into his hair. It was so warm, and gentle and Astarion felt the dam release as sobs wracked his body.

"I'm with you 'Star. Through whatever you need, always. I promise you that."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Read on AO3 (recommended)

[recurring-polynya]

Writing Update/Art Update 5/9/2023

Many things happened last week. Not very many of them were drawing. I'll get back to that.

I have finally started posting the big (it's not really big. Medium-big. It just felt big) fanfic that I have working on for most of the year. You can start here if you want to read it, Chapters 1-3 are currently available.

I finished the smut. I had mostly finished it by Friday, but then we had a belated-because-we-were-waiting-for-spring-weather backyard birthday party for my daughter this past weekend, so I had to spend a solid 48 hours in the paralyzing deathgrip of anxiety at the prospect of socializing with people I don't know (the parents of some of my daughter's classmates), so I didn't get much of anything else done, although I did clean my house and buy a bunch of hot dogs.

I only got one doodle done this week, which took me three days, spread out over the anxiety deathgrip, but I'm pretty pleased with how it came out. I really would like to start on a more serious project this week, but I may get back to them, we'll see how it goes. I do want to thank everyone who sent in prompts, and I'm sorry I haven't gotten to more of them. Turns out I'm real bad at doing quick, fast-turnaround doodles! Is anyone surprised??

After that, like, I said, I finished up the porno. I was hoping to post it yesterday, but it was pretty late at night by the time I finished my editing sweep. Today was a go places posting day and I didn't really want to post two different fanfics in one day, plus I had made kind of a lot of edits, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to let it sit a day and then do another sweep before posting. In other words, tomorrow, probably.

This morning, I re-read what I've gotten written so far of Ductwork, which is the working title of the next story in the Heart is a Muscle. It's 7707 words at the moment, and I get hot mad every time I read it because I want there to be more of it, and unfortunately, there is only one way to make that happen. But it's gonna!! I keep telling myself that it was really worthwhile to have taken the time to write go places first, because Ductwork is largely about Rukia and Renji finally digging down into a lot of festering insecurities from that time in their afterlives. I have a couple different approaches to writing these days, and I'm gonna try to do the thing that ended up working for go places, which is 1) try to write something every day, 2) chronological schmonological, write whatever I can possibily come up with, I'll just cram it all together at the end, this was very fun and easy last time and definitely did not take six drafts and a color-coded spreadsheet. Based on past experience, I do not think I am going to be able to power through to completion, so my goal is to add at least 20k words to the thing before I flame out in a blaze of beautiful depression and spend the rest of the summer on something insane, like bringing back the Soul Society Tattoo Artist AU. My overall prediction is that it will be around 60k, but I'm not discounting the possibility that it could be another 100k-er. (it better not go over 120k tho, I will die for real)

Anyway, that was my week! Whew!

[contrivedchaos]

Fic writers' 2022 roundup:

I've never done one of these before, but I was tagged by @pikapeppa, so I'll give it a shot!

Words written: 54,050. It's not a lot, but other than the year I wrote my master's thesis, it's the most actual writing I've done in a long time, fanfic or otherwise. I'll count it as an accomplishment!

Smut scenes: Oof. Let's see. 6? We'll go with 6. Across four different fics.

New things I tried: Within the last 12 months, I've dipped my toes into the Arcane fandom and finished/posted 3 parts for my (ongoing?) three-part CaitVi series: Every Small Disaster, Say My Name (Like an Elegy), and It's Psychosomatic. It's been so much fun! Hopefully I'll find another opportunity to do more for this pairing. I definitely want to write more of them in the future!

Fic I spent the most time on: My longest fic was Where The Time Goes. I started Chlodine Week 5 years ago for this tiny, desperately-hanging-on fandom, but never wrote anything substantial for it beyond a few oneshots. This year I spent 2-3 months working on a labor of love that I never expected to go anywhere. It was a fic almost entirely for myself, and so far it's my favorite thing I've ever written. I was so happy when it was finished.

Fic I spent the least time on: The first fic for my CaitVi series, Every Small Disaster. (This was technically posted Christmas of 2021, but I'll count it) It was my first time dipping my toes into the Arcane fandom, and I think it came out swimmingly!

Favorite thing I wrote: Definitely Where The Time Goes. Chlodine will always have a special place in my heart. I can't think of a fandom that's more dear to me than the Uncharted fandom. It's been a light through the toughest years of my life so far. I owe a lot to it, and particularly the Chlodine ship. I don't see it being outranked as my OTP any time soon.

Favorite fic(s) I read: I've read so many AMAZING things this year. This list will be DIFFICULT to narrow down. Here goes:

Violence and Variations by Thisisatree (@dancing-b0nes): The Locked Tomb has made up the majority of my fic and book re-reading in 2022, and this one is no exception. Technically started this one in 2021, but it's still ongoing, so I'll count it. While it's like 60% a Griddlehark fic, and sort of a re-imagining of their lives post-TLT, practically every ship, in all their wonderful configurations, gets their dirty day in the sun. I have been on the edge of my seat for more than a year with this one, and it shows no signs of stopping. Also extremely spicy! I'm so hooked!

Twice by BonesforTime: Another TLT fic, this one's a re-imagining of the events at Canaan House in Gideon the Ninth, with such a unique take on what it means to be a Lyctor and on the dynamics of the cavalier/necromancer relationship. And lore and world-building! Another Griddlehark-focused fic, this one constantly has me in stitches, combined with such a raw, intimate writing style for the smut scenes. Bones has such a way with words, and they continue to amaze me with each new installment. Definitely continuing this one into 2023!

Table Manners by Armengard (@armengard): Y'all know I go absolutely feral for anything by Armengard. Their first contribution to the CaitVi space is no exception. They took me out with a one-shot earlier this year that will undoubtedly be on my fic re-read rotation for years to come. Can't say enough positive things about their entire catalog, so this one is also definitely worth a read. And sooooooo spicy! Whew!

Even The Hardiest Desert Blooms Need to Get Wet Sometimes by Pikapeppa (@pikapeppa): Literally the only writer of MLW ships this lesbian will read these days. Their writing style is just that good. It's so refreshing and engaging that if they decided to author a dictionary, I'd probably read it. I jumped back into the Horizon fandom (extremely late, forgive me) after a major surgery over the summer, and the first thing I did upon playing Forbidden West was dive back into their fics. This one is a Drakkaloy fic, and is not only entertaining, but also extremely spicy. Definitely a must-read!

Your Mouth and Its Flowers by driluth (@driluth): Technically late 2021, but I'll count it. This is a CaitVi AU based on one of my favorite books of 2022, This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone. The symbolism! The way Red and Blue are literally Vi and Caitlyn, and are so amazingly portrayed in this AU! Definitely a hidden gem for me to find in 2022! But I'm so glad I did!

Writing goals for next year: I don't have any particular writing goals for 2023. I'm looking forward to the Horizon Forbidden West DLC, so if I can get my hands on a PS VR 2, maybe I'll get inspired to dip a toe into the Horizon fandom. I'm definitely tempted by all the WLW potential for this series. Also more TLT...Alecto is coming in September, so there is still more to work with. We'll see!

[suzteel]

top 5 tankhun scenes! and top 5 kinnporsche episodes

Sorry this took so long. This was actually a challenge! Whew.

Let's start with episodes cause that's easier:

Episode 7 - perfect episode. no notes. other than vegas and pete should have fucked that is.

Episode 11 - the episode that got me. i can blame this whole mess on this episode. saw the gifs coming from this episode and went "aw fuck. i'm gonna watch this, aren't it?" then proceeded to binge watch this episode on repeat that whole first week so it's like permanently imprinted on my brain.

Episode 4 - episodes 4 and 5 are when this show really started to it it's stride for me and they remain some of my favorites. episode 4 wins out over 5 because it has my favorite scene of the entire show plus some peak aesthetic choices, but the two episodes are extremely close for me.

Episode 5 - porsche bathroom break down scene. one my fave (and most loathed) pete shots. motorcycle scene. some of the best kp angst and tension of the season. solid episode.

Episode 14 - this was a hard pick but i think i'll go with the finale here because it was such a good finale! it literally gave me everything i wanted but also managed to shock me. it's got great action and ends on a really chewy, open-ended "oh fuck" note that is delightfully harrowing, especially in it's implications for the show's over themes. it both gives both hope for the future while also making one question whether anyone is truly going to escape these cycles of abuse and trauma. the good stuff.

Oh man. Favorite Tankhun scenes. This was so hard!

Episode 4: Tankhun hitting Vegas on the head - First of all, this is just my favorite scene, period. Secondly, it's like the perfect blend of all the things I love about Khun. It's comedic, audacious, unexpected, demonstrates his protectiveness for his younger brothers, and hints at his multilayeredness. Love this scene.

Episode 14: Khun grieving his father - Give Tong all the goddamn awards okay. A brilliant piece of acting from him. It also gives me lots of thoughts compared to his episode 6 extra scene and one of these days I will actually finish writing that meta.

Episode 10: Ken's severed head scene - Another give Tong all the goddamn awards scene. This is another scene that really highlights Tong's acting ability. I also have a great many thoughts about this scene in regard to Khun's character as I think it's the best example of what he might have looked like as the heir while also demonstrating why he absolutely cannot be the heir. (This is also the next episode to gif for my Khun series and I'm very excited about it.)

Episode 3: Khun and the bodyguards watching porn - Far less serious a scene than the above but it's soooo goddamn funny. Never fails to crack me the fuck up.

Episode 2: Tankhun asking Kinn to make Porsche his bodyguard - Tankhun is actually the first character I completely fell in love with and this scene was the first kind of moment I was like, ok, he's...spoiled, melodramatic, audacious and eccentric as hell...and I like him a lot.

Thanks so much for the ask!

put “top 5” anything in my ask and i will answer ok go

[187days]

Day One Hundred Forty-Four

It was really warm today- up near eighty- which meant my Block 2 class was begging me to take them outside for a walk. I told them I would if we had time at the end of the block and I was satisfied with their learning- so no rushing through work just to make sure we had time- and they agreed. Of course, I’d planned the lesson to be short in anticipation of this, but they didn’t need to know that. 

We went over a vocab practice assignment I’d given out yesterday, which was also a refresher for what they learned prior to pausing to write their book papers. The last part of the assignment listed four things that I’ve said are crucial to understanding the modern world: colonialism, the World Wars, and the Cold War. That’s how I launched into a lesson about colonialism and its longterm impacts. 

Now, I did the same lesson with my Block 3 students, but I predicted two things: by then, they’d have already convinced another teacher to take them outside so they wouldn’t be too upset if I didn’t; and they’d ask so many questions that my “short” lesson would take the entire block with them whereas it only took an hour with the other section. 

Was I right? Yes, of course, I’m a wizard. 

It was a good lesson, in both cases, and I was able to end it by explaining how it’ll connect to the on they’ll do on Monday (about WWI). You all know I like to make the connections between my lessons explicit, so it’s clear to my students that there’s a purpose to whatever they’re doing. 

That skill served me well later on in the day when Dean 1 emailed me to schedule my formal observation; he asked for possible dates, lesson plans for those dates, and context for those lessons. 

Piece. Of. Cake. 

Oh, and APGOV today was fun, too. A lot of my students were absent- sports dismissals- but the ones who were there learned all about campaign finance law, Citizens United, and the way outside spending is changing US elections. It’s a terrific lesson, one I love teaching, and I thought it went really well.

Track practice went... slightly less well? 

One of the challenging things about a lot of high schoolers these days is that they lack patience, have poor impulse control, and tend to hyper-focus on their grades, or their athletic stats, or whatever. It’s a manifestation of the anxiety that’s running rampant in their generation, and, whew, it is rough. If they decide they need to do something, they need to do it RIGHT NOW. They can’t think about anything else until it’s done, and they get angry, frustrated, or some other negative emotion if they’re made to. This means they try to check their grades when they should be paying attention to a lesson, or ignore a current assignment to finish an assignment an incomplete one from like a week ago, or barge into classes while they’re in session because they have to tell their friend A Very important Thing That Cannot Wait. 

The one that’s driving The Head Coach a bit crazy is that they constantly ask if they can to do things other than what he, or any of us assistant coaches, want them to do. Like, the jumpers want to keep jumping and jumping when they can’t clear a height or make a distance, the sprinters want to do two dozen block starts or do full sprint time trials to make sure they can hit certain times. They have it in their heads that’s the only way to get better, and they don’t listen to our explanations that doing those things will actually hurt, not help. Again: anxiety is causing their brains to be full of static, I get it. But The Head Coach doesn’t. He takes offense because they’re questioning his expertise and authority, and it’s totally disrespectful, and I get that, too. 

I’m not entirely sure how it’ll shake out as the season progresses. It led to a rough start to practice, but once our athletes actually started doing the work- baton practice, mostly, because there’s a relay meet tomorrow- it got better. Here’s hoping the meet goes well!

[yoshiiiiiiikunnn]

To my Brothers! Who I really care for the most!

A/N: I dunno. I just tried to look for some prompts and worked with it T^T. I still don't know how to write properly.

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Warnings: Nothing too bad, I guess. Angst though.

Mammon sighed as he jumped into bed. He was finally happy that he paid off most of his debt with the witches, but then grimaced when he realized he’ll someday need to borrow some money again. Damn you Greed, but he had some Grimm left. He added the left Grimm to a piggy bank. He was trying to fill it in, maybe to buy a present for his brothers.

Sometimes, Mammon wonders why he’s still super caring for his brothers despite the constant insults his brother has been throwing at him. He was indeed very compassionate towards his brother despite the name-callings. He could never get angry at them, just a tiny bit disappointed… at himself.

Mammon has continuously put on this mask of narcissism (a little less than Asmodeus’) to make himself better because no one had actually complimented him for quite some time. A self-deprecating personality, though, when he’s alone. Beating himself up over the simplest of things, maybe shedding a tear or two from the disappointment he thinks he is, when truly he’s a kind fellow just carried by his sin of Greed.

Speaking of, he was glad that he could resist his greed for a week, very glad. At least his brothers didn't insult him again—

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

“MAMMON!” A loud shout could be heard, and it snapped Mammon out of his train of thoughts. With a panicked gasp, he ran immediately to the source of the sound. There he saw his brothers, all with furrowed brows and angry gazes. “Uhh, is something the matter?” He spluttered anxiously; he swore he did nothing wrong. “What do you think is the matter, Mammon?” It was the oldest brother, Lucifer. But then an angered voice continued, “Levi said you stole one of his figurines again, Mammon!”

“HAH?! But I did nothing wrong this week, because of situations like these…” Mammon censured, muttering the last phrase in a whisper. “Well, where do you think it could’ve gone!?” the third born remarked in a shout. “I don’t know! Stop blaming me! I was working mostly this week; I was barely at home!” the white-haired demon answered back in a slightly frustrated shout.

“Stop lying, Mammon. We already know you’re lying, you pathological liar.” It was the blonde fifth-born, Satan. When heard that, he was taken aback, quite hurt. “B-but...!” Mammon tried to answer back but was cut off by Lucifer. “Stop this, Mammon. Because you’d been stealing others’ stuff again, I’ll have no choice to punish you again.”

“Wha...?! I really did nothing wrong!!” No one listened to him. Of course, what did Mammon expect from his brothers?

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

Mammon felt disappointed with himself again. Did he actually steal Levi’s figurine unconsciously? He also felt hurt with the phrase Satan called him, you pathological liar. ‘Whew, that stings.’ He grimaced at the thought. A pathological liar. He probably deserved to be called that.

His back stings. Lucifer whipped him again as a punishment. He took the first-aid kit to treat some wounds. Mammon still doesn’t feel used to this, being punished again and again by his older brother and being ridiculed by his younger ones, whom he cared deeply for. He closed the kit as he was finishing up tending to his wounds.

“Mammon…” a voice called out. It was Beel, the sixth-born. “What is it, Beel?” He asked.

“Dinner is ready.” Beel answered, then hearing the doorknob to the room turning. “Oh, okay!” Beel saw Mammon, and they both walked together to the dining room. In the middle of their walk, Beel asked, “Are… you okay?” Hesitating at first. “Of course I am! Why do you ask, Beel?” Mammon answered confidently, smiling. “Oh… Nothing.” The orange-haired demon answered.

After dinner, Mammon wanted to gift something to Beel, maybe some cake? “Should I bake it myself?” Mammon knew Beel was indifferent to his cooking, maybe even somewhat disliked it, but still he wanted to do it. Maybe he should ask Luke or even Barbatos to help? Mammon sighed, rolling in his bed, and opening his D.D.D. to write down a reminder. ‘Buy a present with his leftover Grimm.’ and ‘Ask Luke or Barbatos to help bake a cake for Beel!’. He wonders why he just won’t use his leftover Grimm for gambling… He paid no mind and then turned off his D.D.D. and slept, at least some peace for him after today.

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

After RAD, he immediately approached Barbatos to try to convince him to teach him how to bake. Fortunately, Barbatos agreed! It surprised Mammon when he saw Luke was there as well. “We already planned to bake some new recipes for pastries today, but we don’t mind teaching you.” Barbatos smiled. Luke was reluctant at first, but eventually gave in.

15 cups of flour and 20 eggs wasted. Later, Mammon finally had baked a cake. Well, two cakes! He prepared the frosting and the toppings. Oh, gosh… He was hoping it would taste good.

He passed through a store while walking home. He saw something that caught his eye, something he hoped his brothers would like.

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

When Mammon opened the door, he was hoping for the usual, maybe some of his brothers lounging in the living room, maybe Beel in the kitchen, looking for food, maybe Belphie sleeping in some unusual spot again, Asmodeus boasting his looks, Levi playing his video games, Satan reading his books.

But he saw something different. His brothers haven’t heard him go through the door yet, and he saw all of them talking to each other, unusual.

“Mammon…!” Lucifer grumbled, one on the precious vases that Diavolo gifted him had gone missing. It was very shiny, made of gold, and most likely expensive. So, when Lucifer found out it was missing, of course, he’d shift the blame automatically to Mammon. He was absolutely furious. Mammon was in the corner, trembling with fear. He was about to come out of the corner when he heard, “… Who would still be surprised with what he’s been doing?” Satan clicked his tongue. It frustrated him as well. Some of his books had been going missing, too. “Oi, oi, some of my stuffs are missing too!” Asmodeus spoke up. He was angered, some of his cosmetics and have been going missing as well.

“I still haven’t found my figurine too!”

Everyone was getting furious with all of their stuff being missing. And they all blamed Mammon for it, someone who was not involved with it at all. He wanted to reason out.

“I wouldn’t care if Mammon disappeared right now.” It was Belphegor. The venom in his voice made Mammon want to sob. He was shaking so much from fear and disappointment in himself.

“It would somehow be better if Lilith was here instead.”… It was Asmodeus.

A tear fell from Mammon’s eyes. “It really hurts when I realize I’ll never mean that much to someone, even from the people I love.”

Everyone looked at the source of the voice.

“Have you really thought I’m that kind of person? You’re right: I am a liar. But can you just believe me, just this one time? I did nothing wrong.” Mammon’s voice was shaking. It was cruel to hear such words from his brothers, especially when you care about them the most.

“Mammon…” Beel tried to speak.

“If ever I was a little bit too greedy, can’t you just give me the benefit of the doubt that I cannot control my sin?” Tears were already streaming from his eyes.

“Really, Mammon? Couldn’t have you at least try to stop yourself from stealing things!?” The eldest brother was furious. He would not believe Mammon this easily, now was he?

“… You think I haven’t… tried?” Mammon spoke. “Lucifer, I was trying not to do anything bad this week. In fact, I DID NOTHING WRONG! I was working my ass off to pay the witches, and haven’t been at home. I couldn’t have done anything wrong!” Mammon was angry now. Did no one actually care for him? Was Mammon just a nobody to his brothers?

“You know what?” Mammon sighed. He dropped the bags he was carrying, and they heard glass shattering. “What’s the point of trying if it just proves that I’ll never be good enough for any of you?” Mammon left the House of Lamentation, hoping to find maybe a little comfort from Barbatos or the residents of the Purgatory Hall.

Most of Mammon’s brothers were shocked at what he said, but Lucifer didn’t let his pride falter. He was still angry. Where has his compassion and care for his brothers...no, for Mammon has gone? “Mam—…!” The blonde demon stopped the raven-haired demon to follow Mammon. “… Just… Let’s leave him alone for now, Lucifer.” If Mammon comes back, will he be the same again? Or their bubbly Mammon will leave their lives forever now?

Beel picked up the bag that Mammon was carrying, he found a Chocolate Cake and a Strawberry Lake.

But Beel’s heart broke when he saw what was in the other bag.

A framed family picture of the seven demon brothers, smiling happily. And there was a note written to the back of the frame:

“To my brothers! Who I really care for the most! —Mammon”

a/n: i forgot how to write stories T^T

[idy-ll-ique]

safest with you

pairing: bodyguard!steve rogers x f!reader (brief mob boss!oc x f!reader)

genre: mob au; angst, smut, fluff

warnings: smut, adultery, cheating spouses, mentions of abusive households, mentions of poor mental health, mentions of marital non-con sex, domestic abuse, violence and murder. whew.

requested: nope

word count: ~8.5k

summary: y/n y/l/n is forced to marry a mobster named edmund silverstein, who turns out to be the worst husband ever. when someone attempts to assassinate y/n, he decides that y/n is in need of a bodyguard so he hires steve rogers to look after her. but y/n and steve start falling for each other and begin a secret relationship which, unfortunately, edmund finds out about. so it's okay when he cheats but it isn't when y/n does the same? steve fails to find the logic in that.

author's note: hiya peeps! my longest fic yet, i've been writing this for like... 8 days. really hope everyone likes it, enjoy!

masterlist

---

"Y/N, come downstairs this instant!"

Y/N looked up from the book she was holding. "What now," she muttered, keeping it away before trudging down the stairs, annoyed. She hated it when people interrupted her reading. "What, mother?" The second word, laced with sarcasm. "Lower your tone, miss," her mother hissed, "We have guests." That's when she noticed the three men sitting in front of her mother and her father.

The one in the middle, she'd seen him before. Alas, she didn't remember his name but she knew he was sort of like the Kingpin in the mob world. The God among men, the most revered and respected mobster of all time. "Hey, sweetheart," he winked at her as she sat next to her mom. "...Hi," she blinked after a pause. What was he doing here?

"You don't remember me? Wow, didn't think such people existed," he whistled, leaning back on his seat. "I know who you are," she bit back, "I just don't know your fucking name." She yelped when her mother slapped her arm. The man's eyebrows shot up. "Such language, my my my. Anyway, the name's Edmund, Edmund Silverstein," he chuckled.

Ah, that's it! Edmund Silverstein!

"Right, Mr Silverstein," she drawled, "Now that I've had the pleasure." A sneer took over her lips. "I shall take my leave." But as she got up to go Edmund grabbed her hand, pulling her back to him. She stumbled and fell right on top of his lap, clutching her heart. "What are you doing?" she asked, horrified.

He draped his arm over her waist and held on, his other hand coming to caress her cheek. "What's the rush? There's a thing we need to talk about with your mummy and daddy," he smirked and Y/N wiggled, begging him to let her go. "Afraid I can't do that, you'll just run again. So sit tight, angel, and listen to what your father has to say." His hold on her waist tightened, becoming uncomfortable.

Her father cleared his throat. "As you know, our family has a peaceful alliance with Mr Silverstein," he began. She agreed; they did, in fact, have one. "And um, recently we've got into some trouble so… we need you to marry Edmund." An incredulous sound escaped Y/N. "What?! Marry— what?! Dad! I'm still so fucking young, you want me to—"

"It's for everyone's benefit," he countered, "If you don't do this, we're doomed. We'll be killed, do you understand?! So if you want to save your life, and ours, marry Edmund by next week." Y/N shook her head. "First of all, I do not give a rat's ass about your lives." She gestured to both her parents. "Second, killing myself would be a better choice than—"

She did not get a chance to finish her sentence, for right at that second Edmund clamped his hand over her mouth. "How fucking dare you," he whispered in a menacing tone in her ear, "How fucking dare you say that?!" When he yelled the second question Y/N startled badly, starting to tremble on his lap. She had a condition; ever since she was born she had been terrified of loud noises.

Whether it be someone yelling, or even simply shouting with joy, she couldn't stand it. Hell, her own voice was soft, people always had to ask her to speak up when she talked. As for why she hated her parents, it was because… Growing up, Y/N was never allowed to leave the house. Never allowed to go beyond the front gates.

Her first (and only) friends were the butler and the housemaids. She grew up thinking it was normal; her parents made it seem that it was normal for kids to grow up cooped inside their houses, never allowed to leave and never permitted to make friends their age. Only when she became an adult did she realise how… not okay it was.

She got a phone at the age of 21, a few years ago. When she joined Instagram, the social media app, only then did she find out— She even reached out to a few people online, and they told her that yes, indeed, keeping her cooped up in the house was abusive and toxic.

She'd confronted her parents once about how they treated her but they deterred the topic, saying how they only did it out of love. Since then, her trust in her parents was ever-dwindling.

"Now don't be scared," Edmund crooned upon feeling her tremors, "I will keep you safe, princess, I promise your mum and dad." She took deep, shaky breaths, collapsing against his chest. He rubbed her back, turning apologetic looks unto Mr and Mrs Y/L/N. "I completely forgot she has a thing about loud noises. I'm sorry." They waved in dismissal.

"We're getting married whether you like it or not, sweetheart. Not only yours, but my head is at stake too." With that, he stood up and placed her down on the chair on which he was sitting, running his hand over her head. "See you." Pressing a small kiss on her forehead, he nodded at her parents and motioned to his goons, walking out of the room. They followed him out.

After they were gone, Mrs Y/L/N turned to Y/N. "Go to your room, you embarrassing piece of shit," she muttered and Y/N stood up, readily leaving. Once she was inside, she dramatically flung herself onto her bed, her book long forgotten as she buried her face in her arms, starting to sob.

One afternoon changed everything.

Her life, for the worse.

---

"You may now kiss the bride."

The room politely clapped as Edmund took Y/N in his arms, pressing his lips to hers. Y/N, as much as she wanted to push him away, did not, kissing back. "Hello, Mrs Silverstein," he whispered cheekily and Y/N forced a laugh, giving him a smile. "Hey, hubby," she said, gagging when he looked away from her.

She did not want to marry him. Yes, he was kinda good-looking and close to her age but he was also a pompous asshole, a promiscuous bastard. He'd slept with half the city's girls already; probably even half the country's women. What if his habits continued even after marriage? Yes, sure, it was a contractual marriage but still, how would it look if her husband had nightly affairs with different women?

"Y'all continue your party, I'm taking my bride home." Y/N's eyes widened when he promptly lifted her up, draping her over his shoulder. "What, I—" She covered her ears when everyone shouted with glee, raising their glasses in toast. "On second thought," she muttered. Edmund easily carried her out of the hall and took her to his car, placing her down on the passenger seat.

"You look so beautiful in that dress, I swear, I've never wanted to ravish someone as hard as I've wanted you," he growled, hands grabbing her jaw as he kissed her deep and hard. Y/N panicked a little; marriage was a big no-no from the beginning but now she had to sleep with him? No, she didn't want to be one of his whores. Well, she was his wife, of course, but…

It was now expected of her to sleep with Edmund. So she sat quietly, letting him drive her to her new home.

As soon as they arrived at his place Edmund took her to his bedroom, throwing her down on the bed. Y/N pressured herself to enjoy what they were doing, however impossible it was. When he slid home, she kept her eyes and mouth shut tight. Sex was supposed to feel pleasurable; why, then, did it hurt so much?

Edmund didn't even wait for or care for her orgasm. When he was close to coming, he pulled out of her and stroked himself a couple times, coming all over her chest. "Ah, fuck, that was so hot," he groaned, slumping on the bed next to her. She wanted to scoff; hot? Nothing about what they'd done right then was hot. It has literally only been 10 minutes, what the fuck?

Y/N hadn't orgasmed even once. Deciding that she deserved at least that much, her hand went to her core, playing with clit until she finally orgasmed. After that, she got up and looked to her left; Edmund was fast asleep. No aftercare, nothing. Huffing, she slowly walked towards the bathroom, grabbing a clean towel on the way.

In the bath, she furiously rubbed her skin with a loofah and some soap, trying to discard the feel of his hands on her body. A few moments in, she felt tears pricking her eyes; not being born would've been a better boon than this hellish life that she was living. "Why, God?" she sniffled, covering her face with her hands as she sat in the steadily cooling water, crying all her feelings out.

When she got out of the bathroom, Edmund was still asleep, even snoring softly. She looked around; all her bags were downstairs, so she quietly put on one of Edmund's pants and a t-shirt of his, getting into bed with him. The whole morning had been tedious, she was also feeling very tired. Making sure to keep some distance between them, Y/N fell asleep.

She woke up hours later. Edmund was the one waking her up, saying dinner was ready. "Come on princess, let's get some dinner," he cooed and she sat up, rubbing her eyes sleepily. He took her hand, tugging her out of bed. She followed him downstairs and they went to the dining room where his housemaids were setting up the table.

"Did you have a good rest?" he asked her as they ate. Y/N silently nodded, not meeting his eyes. "Good, good." Y/N's mind drifted towards something; their honeymoon. Where would he be taking her? Somewhere nice, hopefully; she could use a good vacation. "What about—" she blurted out and he looked at her. "Hm?" She cleared her throat.

"What about our honeymoon?"

Edmund hissed, shaking his head. "I'm afraid we can't go anywhere, sweetheart, my schedule is packed, I've got a lot of work to do. No honeymoon. We'll go on vacation some other time," he spoke and Y/N's heart nearly stopped. So, from one house to another, she was still going to be cooped up? "Are you gonna keep me inside the house at all times too?"

He laughed. "No! Not at all, Y/N, you can go out, roam about, do whatever but don't disturb me, okay? I mean, you can always check on me, that will be nice but not a lot. I'm a busy man," he insisted. A little confused by his persistence, she nodded. The rest of the dinner went by silently.

After dinner, Y/N wasn't particularly sleepy. While Edmund went to bed, she stayed downstairs, going to the living room to get the book she'd been reading a week ago. "Peace at last," she muttered and sat on the couch, pulling her legs up before opening the book to the marked page, starting to read.

---

Many months passed. Y/N had thought her life couldn't get more miserable, but oh, she'd spoken too soon. Turns out, Edmund's womanizing habits did not stop after marriage. Y/N had started keeping a diary, noting down what she'd found on him or his laundry on what day. She even attached photographs.

He slept with a different woman every other night; some days she found a lipstick stain on his shirt collar, some days she found hairs that were a colour different from hers…

Hell, the man had even come home smelling like one of the perfumes Y/N used to use before. She recognized that scent instantly and understood that he'd been with a woman that day. Her mental health deteriorated every single day; she got pitiful and sympathetic looks from the housemaids all the time, and also from the wives of the goons that worked for her husband.

Whenever she was out in public she got judged; oh look, there goes Mrs Silverstein the princess. Honestly, I don't understand how she keeps her cool knowing her husband is out sleeping with other women all the time. The truth was, she wanted to shout at him all the time. She wanted to confront him, to tell him off for sleeping with other women.

But she couldn't. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was something else, but she couldn't. He often bought expensive gifts for her when he came home from "business trips". She still allowed him to have sex with her, even though he was the worst partner she'd ever had in her life. Why? She couldn't tell.

Sometimes, she wanted to go out and date other men too. If he could do it then why shouldn't she?! One time she'd even complained about the same to one of the housemaids, but she'd told her that it was a bad idea. "You don't know what Mr Silverstein is like," she'd warned Y/N, "He thinks when he cheats, it's okay, it's a mistake. But when someone cheats on him, he gets… very upset."

Y/N had let out a genuine gasp when the housemaid told her that he'd once almost killed a woman when she cheated on him. He'd shot her in the stomach, but luckily, she made it out alive. So her going out with other men was out of question; she didn't want to die.

That day, Y/N was sitting in her room, getting ready to go out for a day of shopping. Edmund had given her his card, telling her to "go use it to your heart's content". "Buy an entire new wardrobe, even. I love you, sweetheart." Love. That word had lost all meaning for her; if he truly did love her, then he'd stop fucking other women. Of course, that was never gonna happen.

She'd never repeated those words to him. After putting on her footwear, Y/N left the room and went outside, sending the driver a small smile. She told him what mall she wanted to go to and he dropped her there. Now she was all alone; the mall was crowded, and there were so many beautiful shops that she didn't know where to begin her shopping.

She started out with clothes. Going into the first brand-name shop she found, she looked through the clothes, smiling. At that store, she ended up buying three tops, two skirts and four dresses; after paying for them, Y/N grabbed the bags and left. But as she walked she unfortunately didn't notice someone following her.

That someone was from Edmund's rival mob. He had a revolver, and was looking for the perfect opportunity to end the woman's life. Soon he got his chance; Y/N stopped outside a shoe store to window shop. He instantly whipped out the revolver and pointed it at her, shooting her twice in the back.

Y/N, when the first bullet collided with her body, cried out in pain and fell to her knees, the bags slipping through her hands. A few people rushed over to see what had happened; many terrified gasps and screams went around the place as people surrounded her. "She's been shot!" someone yelled loudly, "Call an ambulance, quickly!"

While usually she'd have minded someone yelling so loud, she was rapidly losing consciousness, breathing hard and heavy to keep herself awake. "My phone's in my purse," she gasped out to the person that had yelled, "The password is 7744, call Edmund Silverstein." He instantly grabbed her purse and dug through it, pulling out her phone.

He entered the passcode and when the phone unlocked, instantly went to the contacts app and scrolled, finding Edmund's number. "Hello? Is this Edmund Silverstein?" Edmund picked up the call on the other end, pausing the meeting he was having with his goons. "Who is this? Why do you have my wife's phone?" he scowled. But when he heard the reason, his eyes went wide.

"She's been what?! Okay, okay, I'll be there in a short while, thank you." He ended the call and turned to his men. "Y/N was shot," he whispered, "She has been taken to the nearby hospital, we're ending this meeting here. I need to go." So he cared about her? Of course not. It was his reputation at stake, again; what would people say if he behaved so carelessly when his wife got shot?

What would Mr Y/L/N say? Mr Y/L/N's mob was the second best around; if he lost their support, his rank would plummet. So he instantly rushed to the hospital, running towards her room only to be stopped by the doctor outside. "She's currently undergoing surgery, you need to wait here." Edmund sat impatiently, his foot vibrating as he waited for the operation to end.

Mr and Mrs Y/L/N showed up soon. "How is she?" Mrs Y/L/N asked tearfully, rushing to Edmund. "I don't know. Gah, I should have gone with her to the mall, shouldn't have sent her alone. This is all my fault, I'm so sorry." Mr Y/L/N shook his head. "You had an important meeting, it isn't your fault. Let's just pray for the best."

Their prayers worked, for an hour later, the doctor allowed them to go inside the room, where Y/N was alive and awake. She was laying down on the bed, her upper body propped up by pillows, staring out of the window. "Y/N!" She turned her head and saw Edmund running into the room. He sat next to her and hugged her, kissing her neck.

"Fuck, I was so worried," he whispered, "You almost gave me a heart attack! I'm so glad you're safe." Lies. Y/N knew they were lies. Even still, she played along, resting her head on his shoulder. "It's fine, I'm okay," she muttered. "This is not okay, you were severely hurt, you could have died— you need a bodyguard. I'll hire someone, he'll be your bodyguard."

"Edmund, I don't—"

"But you do! Ever since we got married, the risks to your life have increased tenfold, and that's putting it gently. You can't leave the house alone, Y/N; I'm not saying don't leave the house ever, but while going, you need to take someone with you. Someone who will keep you safe, and be alert at all times— who better than a bodyguard?"

His words did make sense. "Okay, okay, fine." After staying with her for a while, Edmund left the hospital. Minutes later, even her parents were gone. Y/N sobbed as she sat alone in her hospital room, covered in bandages. Why couldn't she just have died?!

---

"Good morning, Y/N, come sit, have some breakfast."

A few weeks passed. Y/N's back had healed nicely, she was now able to walk around the house without support. But that day, as Y/N walked into the dining room, she saw another man sitting next to her husband at the dining table.

He was… extremely handsome. Baby blue eyes, a strong jawline, longish dirty blond hair and amazing facial hair. His thick, full beard looked so lush and soft; Y/N kept staring, her gaze going lower. He was well built; the t-shirt he was wearing was clearly tight on him, defining his biceps and chest. Even the outline of his abs was visible under the tee.

"This is Steve Rogers, your bodyguard from now on."

Unbeknownst to her, Steve was doing the exact same thing she was; his gaze travelled over her body, taking in her tank top, her shorts and her appealing figure. Her face was the prettiest to him; he knew how poorly Edmund treated his wife and he resented the man for it.

But he pitied Y/N. That was one of the reasons why he'd even taken up the job. Not out of respect for Edmund, but out of sympathy for his wife. Y/N slowly sank into the seat in front of Steve, nodding at him. "Nice to meet you, Mr Rogers. I'm Y/N Silverstein." He smiled at her endearing ways. "Mrs Silverstein." That title, like poison on his tongue.

"He's gonna move into the guest bedroom today," Edmund spoke, completely unaware of the looks Y/N and Steve were sharing. "That's nice," Y/N mumbled, glancing once at Steve before starting to eat. Steve also continually stole glances at Y/N as he ate, observing her mannerisms. She was… demure. Naïve, even. Her face had a placid look on it, which irritated him.

Anyone in the same room as Edmund should have their blood boiling. He didn't know how she handled being with him all the time, sleeping in the same room as him… Just the thought made him shiver. "So, Mr Rogers, how long have you been working with Edmund?" He looked up and saw a small smile on Y/N's face.

He smiled back. "I don't work for anyone, Mrs Silverstein, but I offered to help Mr Silverstein because—" He took a pause. "Because the attack on you was deadly. Cowardly, but deadly." Y/N hummed, noticing the pause. Edmund did not give two fucks; he was busy shoveling food into his mouth at light speeds. After he was done, he stood up.

"Darling, make sure our new roomie is comfortable at our place, I'll be going now," he said. "Yes, sir," Y/N murmured, barely disguising her disgust as he gave her a kiss. "Love you, see you later!" With that, he left the room. As soon as he was gone, Y/N made a face, wiping her face clean with the cloth napkin kept in front of her, seemingly forgetting she wasn't alone.

When she heard a chuckle coming from in front of her, she paused and looked up, horrified. But Steve was smiling; he hadn't smiled this genuinely in ages. "No, don't be terrified, I understand completely. He gets on my nerves too." A beat passed and Y/N smiled. "Really? Then why did you accept this job?" He leaned back on his chair, crossing his arms.

"Because you need protection. I didn't take the job for him, I took it for you."

For the first time in forever, butterflies pooled in her stomach. Steve had made her feel what Edmund hadn't been able to for months— liked. Appreciated. "Really? Um, thank you," she mumbled, a small giggle escaping past her lips as she looked down at her lap, flustered. Steve smiled wider at her behaviour.

"Seriously, no one should be treated how he treats you. I mean, hey, you fucking married the woman, if you didn't want her then you should've found some other way to solve your fucking problem, my guy," Steve huffed dramatically, pleased to hear another titter from her. Anything to make her feel happy again. "He still…" she blurted out, "He still has sex with me."

Now that caught Steve off-guard. "Excuse me, what?" he whispered and Y/N looked up, surprised to see his smile gone. "Yeah. He insists, I mean— you're my wife, how dare you say no, etc. I don't— is that not normal?" Steve's jaw dropped in shock. So aside from mentally torturing her, he was also physically torturing her?!

"Mrs Silverstein." Steve twisted uncomfortably in his chair. "May I ask a question? It may be a little personal…" She figured she had nothing to lose. "Go ahead, Mr Rogers." He cleared his throat. "Do you… when you two have intercourse, do you enjoy it? Like, is it pleasurable, at all? I'm sorry for being too intrusive." Y/N grimaced, shaking her head.

"Um, no, it's fine. It's… it's not pleasurable. I don't like to have sex with him. I hate it. He's not even good at it! But I know I can't say no, I'm his wife, it's expected of me to sleep with him whenever he asks." Steve's blood started running hot. How fucking dare he? He wanted to shout, "No it's not expected of you to sleep with him when he asks, he's raping you!"

But he kept his mouth shut. It would be too much for one day; plus, they'd just met. What if she lashed out on him for even suggesting such a thing, even though that is what it was in the first place? "Ah, I see. So, um, my room…?" Y/N gasped and stood up. "Of course! Let me show you to your room, Mr Rogers." The two left the dining room, going upstairs.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in their rooms. Y/N read a book, while Steve, after roaming the house once, took a nap. As 4 pm rolled near, Y/N checked the time and stood up. She had planned on going shopping again that day, since that was the only activity she found peace and solace in.

Browsing through many items, visiting different shops… She loved it. But she'd not been to the mall in ages, all because Edmund wouldn't let her go. Now that Steve could come along, there was no harm in going there, right?

Before starting to get ready, Y/N went to Steve's room, knocking on the door. He looked up from where he was going through his social media and opened the door, smiling at Y/N. "Yes, Mrs Silverstein? Is everything okay?" She gave him a smile. "I'm actually planning on going shopping right now, and I wondered…" Steve didn't need to hear the rest of the sentence.

"I'll be ready in five minutes."

Y/N went back to her room giddy with excitement. She didn't know what it was, they'd met just that morning, but she felt happy around Steve. She felt at ease, she felt excited, and safe around him. After months, she felt like dressing up again. So Y/N took the most refreshing bath, pampered herself, put on her best dress, jewellery, makeup and also donned her best pair of heels.

Then she tied her hair up into a ponytail, keeping her ears and neck adorned with jewellery visible. Finally, an hour later, she went downstairs.

As promised, Steve had gotten ready in five minutes; meaning, for 55 minutes he’d been sitting in the living room, waiting for Y/N. But he didn’t complain once; when she walked downstairs, the clicking of her heels made him turn to her. And his jaw nearly dropped when he saw her. She looked… like a goddess. He couldn’t help but stare, his gaze appreciatively raking over her figure. Y/N’s cheeks burned under his intense gaze.

Get it together, he’s your bodyguard!

Get it together, you work for her!

He cleared his throat, meeting her eyes. “I, uh, you look nice,” he stammered, “Shall we?” She nodded and the two of them walked out of the house, heading towards the parking lot. But Y/N turned to Steve when they neared the car. “You can drive, right?” Steve chuckled, shoving his hands in the pocket of his trousers. “Very well.”

“Ah, that’s nice! So, um, Edmund took the driver with him this morning and I don’t really know how to drive, so—”

“I’ll take you, Mrs Silverstein.” She grinned at him and handed him the car keys. Like a proper gentleman, Steve first opened the door to the passenger seat for her, shutting the door when she got in. Only then did he get into the car, next to her on the driver’s seat. “Buckle up,” he joked, making her laugh as they both put their seatbelts on.

The driver Edmund had hired never followed safety protocol. Hell, she’d come close to dying on the street via a car accident multiple times, he drove recklessly but Edmund liked him, so he was never fired. Steve, on the other hand… He turned out to be a much better driver, driving carefully yet fast. The car ride to the mall was amazing. He even let her operate the radio, saying, “I’ll be happy with whatever song you play.”

Why couldn’t she have met Steve sooner? Soon they arrived at the mall; Steve parked the car and got out, opening the door for her again. When she stumbled in her heels, not having worn them for months, Steve easily grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, steadying her. Her blood rushed to her face and she apologised, pulling away.

“Don’t worry, it’s my duty to protect you, even against small injuries.” What was Steve making her feel? With him behind her, she walked into the mall, more carefree than she’d ever been. She first went to a clothes store, like the previous time.

“Mr Rogers, you can sit down if you want, you’ll tire yourself out,” she laughed when he followed her all around, even as she browsed through the racks. “But Mrs Silverstein, I’ll be worried if you’re not in my sights. That is, unless, I’m bothering you—” She swiftly shook her head no. “No no, it’s okay.” As they walked together, Y/N spotted a wonderful baby blue top. She rushed to it, picking it up.

“What do you think?” she blurted out, showing the top to Steve. His eyebrows shot up. “Man, my taste in women’s fashion is not that good, but… I bet it’ll look nice on you,” he shrugged, a big smile on his face. “Really? Well, I’ll go try it out!” Steve held his hand out. “I’ll hold it for you.” She handed him the top, looking around some more.

She found two more tops, four pairs of trousers and one skirt to try out. “This is the limit of the dressing room, I think,” she sighed as she draped the skirt over the mountain of clothes Steve was carrying. To him, it was like holding a couple of grapes. “I’ll wait here, you can go try it out.” He took her to the dressing rooms.

Y/N wanted to ask him to stay, but she thought it would be a little inappropriate. After all, he wasn’t her husband or her boyfriend, he was a bodyguard. And some of the clothing she’d picked out was… provocative, to say the least. What would everybody think if someone caught her putting on a fashion show for him, and not her husband? So she tried on all her clothes by herself.

But one of the tops she’d picked out had a zipper on the back, which unfortunately, she couldn’t reach. Plus she’d taken off her bra to wear it, since it wouldn’t have looked nice from the front. Panicking a little, she turned to the door. Should she call Steve? Well, he was her only choice, and she really wanted the top, so… Poking her head out the door, she loudly called out, “Steve?”

He appeared in front of her in an instant. “What happened?” he asked worriedly, his pale cheeks becoming red when Y/N told him the reason. “Y-You want me to… well, uh, open the door, turn around,” he stuttered, the breath leaving his lungs when she did. “Your mistress, not your girlfriend, your boss, not your wife, your mistress, not your…” he kept chanting in his head as he zipped the top.

“Done.” She looked at herself in the mirror, eyes lighting up with joy. The sheer happiness on her face made Steve smile as well; the top looked wonderful on her, but nothing could come close to her smile if he compared things that were pretty. “Buying it?” “Yup!” Steve left the room and Y/N changed into her original clothes.

Then she carried all her tryout clothes out, handing them to Steve. “I’m buying all of these!” Steve laughed along as the two walked to the cashier. With three bags full of clothes, the two of them left the store. “Ah, their new collection was so pretty! Let’s go to the jewellry store now, I want to buy some new rings.” He smiled. “As you wish, Mrs Silverstein.”

In the jewellery store, as Y/N browsed some necklaces, Steve went to check out the rings. He looked through them, smiling. Judging by the jewellery she was wearing at the time, he could tell that she loved silver instead of gold. So he picked some silver rings that he thought would look good on her, and carried them over to Y/N. "Mrs Silverstein."

She turned and gasped when she saw him holding five rings. "These are adorable," she crooned, "Thank you, Mr Rogers!" She tried on all of them, loving each and every one. Steve had impeccable taste, truly. "I love all of them, I'm buying them all," she said as a matter-of-fact, giving him a huge grin. "Ah, um, that's nice," Steve chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

Along with the five rings, she bought a necklace and two pairs of earrings. That was the only good thing about marrying Edmund; she got to spend as much money as she wanted because he always gave her a card to cover his atrocities. "Should we eat something at the cafeteria?" Steve questioned when they left the jewellery shop, because just then Y/N's stomach growled.

"I'd love to have a burger, let's go," she smiled and the two of them went to the cafeteria. There was a McDonald’s at the food court, and Y/N looked at Steve. “Does McD sound okay? I’ve not been there in ages!” He grinned. “Yeah sure, we can go there.” The two of them walked to the place.

Since it was a weekday, and office timings on top of that, the place was fairly empty. The two of them immediately found themselves in front of the cashier instead of having to stand in a big line. “Welcome to McDonald’s, how may I help you?” the cashier smiled. Y/N told her her order, which she noted down. “And for your husband?”

At that both Steve and Y/N paused. “He’s— he’s not my husband,” Y/N chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of her neck as Steve looked away, clearing his throat. “Ah, boyfriend, I’m sorry, sir,” she chuckled and Steve looked at her, eyes wide. “I— yeah, yeah,” he stammered. It was better to let her assume than explain what was actually going on.

He gave the cashier his order as well and she gave the couple another smile. “Please wait, your order will be with you soon.” Y/N nodded and they went to sit at one of the tables. “I’m sorry about back there,” he blurted out immediately as they sat. “Don’t be, it’s better to let her assume than explain all the shit of the past few months,” Y/N chuckled, waving her arm in dismissal. They sat in silence after that.

Y/N was flustered beyond belief. Steve was already having an effect on her, and when the cashier assumed he was her husband? She was done for. Why couldn't you have been my husband, Steve?

---

5 more months passed. Next month, it would have been Y/N and Edmund's 1 year anniversary. Steve still worked for the Silversteins; only, something had changed between him and Y/N. There were lingering gazes and prolonged touches; whenever Y/N happened to stumble Steve caught her, but his hold on her arm or waist lasted a tad bit longer.

Whenever they were out in public, Y/N held his arm, or just touched him in a way that was appropriate. Neither could deny what they felt for each other, what they had been feeling for each other since day one. Until one day, the tension finally broke.

They were at home that day; Edmund was out as usual, and Y/N and Steve were sitting in the garden of the mansion. Y/N was laying down on a picnic blanket looking at the cloudy sky while Steve sat next to her, a book in his hand. Her neck started hurting after a while, so she lifted her head and placed it on Steve's lap. He looked away from his book, and at her.

She wasn't looking at him. Smiling softly to himself, he kept reading as well but his hand reached up, running over her head. "Steve…" she sighed blissfully and he paused, making her look up at him. Y/N couldn't take it anymore. She wanted Steve, and she wanted him now. Especially since she knew that he returned her feelings.

Y/N sat up and straddled his lap, causing the book to fall from his hands. "Mrs Si—" he began but she shushed him, placing her index finger on his lips. "Y/N. Y/N, Steve," she whispered and he grabbed her hand, kissing her wrist. "Y/N. What are you doing?" he questioned as she snuggled closer to him, hugging him. "I want you," she mumbled, "I want you so bad, Steve…"

He knew. And he wanted her too. Also, knowing that Edmund was cheating on her on the daily was… it made it seem as though what he wanted to do to Y/N was not wrong. Justified. "Doll," he breathed out, "I want you too." He hugged her, rubbing her back. "Then take me, please, I'm all yours," she insisted, "Edmund has not made me feel in a year what you made me feel in one day."

He cupped her face. "All mine," he mumbled, "My doll." Steve leaned over and kissed her, still holding her face. She kissed back readily, her arms going around his neck as she deepened the kiss. Soon they pulled away breathless; Steve looked her in the eyes, caressing her face. "Do you really, really want this, Y/N?" She pressed her lips to his again.

"I've never been surer about anything."

"Good." With that he stood up; Y/N squealed when he carried her just how Edmund had on the day of their marriage. But this… it definitely felt much better than that. He took her to his bedroom and gently placed her down in the middle of his bed, kissing her again. "Today's all about you, sweetheart," he murmured as he began kissing his way down her body.

"Oh, Steve," she whined softly as his hands roamed her body. "You complain about how Edmund is the worst partner you've been with, well now let me show how a good partner treats the woman he is with. After I'm done you'll feel like a fucking Goddess, sweetheart, that's my promise to you." He started taking off her clothes, starting with her t-shirt.

“Look at this body,” he praised, “Look how beautiful you are, I can’t believe I get to have you all to myself.” As soon as her upper body was bare he leaned in, starting to press feather-light kisses to her collarbones. He went lower still and brushed his lips against the valley of her breasts, making a shiver run up Y/N’s spine. “Steve,” Y/N gasped when he took a nipple in his mouth, biting and sucking on it.

“I’m a lucky man,” he mumbled to himself, sitting up to take off his shirt. Y/N’s hands reached up involuntarily, her nails raking over his sturdy, hairy chest. A low growl escaped Steve’s lips at the feel and he threw his head back in ecstasy.

His hands went down to the band of her sweatpants; he yanked them lower, pulling her panties off along with them. He placed his hands on her hips and bent forward, giving Y/N a deep kiss. “Do you want me to eat you out, angel?” he asked smugly, pleased to see the flustered look on her face. She nodded shakily, but Steve tutted. “Talk to me. Yes or no?” Y/N met his yes.

“Yes,” she squeaked out, burying her face in her hands. Steve laughed softly and pushed the hands away, kissing her again. Her lips were like drugs; he was addicted already. “Good girl,” he whispered before laying down flat on his stomach, his face lined up with her wet, dripping core. “So wet for me, I love it,” he spoke amusedly, running his fingers up and down her lips.

Her hips jumped up when his finger collided with her core. “Ah ah, don’t move,” he warned her, “I want to enjoy you thoroughly, you moving isn’t gonna help.” With that, he leaned in and licked a thick stripe from her core all the way to her clit. A loud moan slipped past Y/N’s lips and her hands reached up to grab his hair. “Steve, fuck!” she screamed as he passionately ate her out. She tasted like strawberries.

“So fucking sweet, I can do this all day,” he groaned, “Mm, fuck.” He continued his ministrations until Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. “Steve, I’m gonna cum,” she whined pathetically, her legs closing around his head. He grabbed her thighs and spread them apart, somehow increasing the pace of his actions. That did it for her. With a shout of his name Y/N let go, spilling all over his tongue as her body slumped down on the bed.

It was easily her best orgasm ever. Steve definitely knew what he was doing, and he did it well. “Tired, angel?” Steve sat up, licking his lips clean. He lay down on top of her and kissed her, allowing her to taste herself. “N-No,” she stammered; she wanted more, she wanted to feel him inside her. “What’s on your mind?” She looked up at him. “I— I want—” He hummed, holding her close. “Say it clearly.”

“I want to feel you inside me,” she blurted out and he grinned. “Exactly what I’ve been waiting to hear. I promise I’ll be careful.” He took off his trousers and boxer briefs, allowing his cock to jump free. When Y/N’s eyes landed on it, she nearly gasped. Is it even possible for someone to be this big?

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” She snapped out of her thoughts and nodded. “Yes, I do, Steve.” Steve pushed her down until she was lying flat on her back, and then climbed on top of her. “It might sting a little,” he muttered as he took his cock in one hand, lining it up with her core. He then pushed in, and Y/N hissed.

Considering his size, of course it burned. But when he bottomed out inside her, all the pain was replaced by pleasure. With Edmund, the pain never really left and pleasure was non-existent. With Steve, it was the opposite. “Oh, Steve,” Y/N whimpered when he began rocking his hips back and forth. “Fuck, you feel so good,” Steve whined, dropping his head to her shoulder. He buried his face in her neck, leaving love bites in his wake.

Y/N’s entire body moved according to Steve’s thrusts. She held onto his biceps, small whimpers escaping past her lips here and there as she neared her second orgasm. “I’m already close,” Steve grunted at one point, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum…” Y/N’s breathing became laboured as she ran her fingers through Steve’s hair. “Let go with me.”

Somehow their orgasms lined up. Just as Y/N came, moaning Steve’s name, he pulled out of her and stroked himself a couple times, spilling his release all over her stomach and chest. Both of them took a minute to calm themselves down; Steve got up and went to his wardrobe, pulling out a clean towel. He ran it under hot water and went back to the bed, cleaning Y/N and himself up.

“That was so good, Stevie,” Y/N giggled when he put on his boxers and sat next to her. He chuckled and pulled her closer to him, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “You’re also the best partner I’ve been with,” he confided her in, “I wish it didn’t have to be like this, I wish we could date openly.” Y/N sighed and snuggled into his arms. “I wish it so bad, too.” They sat snuggled up for a long time, until Y/N had to go back to her room.

---

The one year anniversary came and went by. Edmund wasn’t home for it, and Y/N was pretty sure he’d forgotten. She, instead, spent the day with Steve, both of them going on a one day trip to an amusement park. Ever since the first time, they had sex almost every other night; Y/N was happier than ever. He treated her nice, catered to her every whim in bed and was also such a thoughtful boyfriend.

Until one day, when Edmund just had to ruin everything.

Steve and Y/N were in her bedroom; once again, Steve was reading a book that she recommended while Y/N, her head on his lap, was fast asleep, taking an afternoon nap. Unbeknownst to them, Edmund had come home early that day. He entered the house and looked around. Hm. Where was his wife? In her bedroom, obviously! Smiling, he went to her room but when he opened the door, he froze.

Steve looked up as well, and both of them stared at each other. Edmund saw the way his wife was curled up against Steve, safely tucked away in his arms as she slept without a care in the world. It was clear to him that the two were definitely more than mistress and bodyguard. And he felt unfathomable rage over the fact. Oh, so suddenly, he wasn’t good enough for her?

“What the fuck is going on?” Edmund whispered dangerously. But Steve stood his ground, glaring back at him. “Exactly what you think, motherfucker.” A smirk bloomed on the blond’s face as Edmund started visibly shaking with anger. “That’s my fucking wife!” he roared, “How dare you?” Hearing the scream Y/N was startled awake, and she instantly scrambled towards Steve, who gladly held her.

“Stop yelling, you’re scaring your wife,” Steve snarked and Edmund stomped his foot like a spoiled toddler. “Y/N,” he addressed her, “I’m your husband. Is this how you’re supposed to treat me?!” Y/N’s eyes filled with tears at his harsh and loud tone, and Steve saw red. “Well a husband has duties towards his wife too!” he snapped and Edmund turned to him.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

Steve stood up, towering over the man as he crossed his arms. “Do you think she doesn’t know of your nightly affairs with different women? Do you think she’s so dumb that she doesn’t know you’re out cheating on her every damn day? And she finds one person—” He pointed to himself, “Who treats her right, who’ll do anything to have her, and you lose your shit?”

Edmund’s nostrils flared. “We’re bloody married!” he countered. “Well start acting like her fucking husband then!” Steve yelled, immediately regretting it as Y/N sniffled. He turned to her and sat next to her, pulling her into his arms. “I’m sorry, dove,” he whispered, rubbing her back as she tried to catch her breath.

“I love you, Steve.” Both Steve and Edmund paused. “I love you too, “Y/N, I love you so much,” he smiled back and Y/N grabbed his face, pulling him in for a kiss. She wanted to make a point in front of Edmund— I don’t want you anymore, I have Steve. Edmund’s blood was boiling; how dare she say those three words to some other man and not her husband?

He couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing Y/N’s arm, he yanked her up and slapped her straight across the face. “You never say that to me, how dare you say that to him?!” he shouted at her. It happened so suddenly that Steve couldn’t react on time; but when he realised what had just happened his being filled with murderous rage.

Steve pushed Edmund away from her with such force that the man stumbled backwards, falling on his ass. He couldn’t even say anything; he knew if he spoke, all that would come would be expletives and such derogatory remarks that his mom would faint on the spot. Steve stood above the man and planted a kick right at his crotch, causing Edmund to groan in pain.

He kept kicking and kicking until Edmund passed out from the pain. Y/N kept watching, horrified, but she couldn’t look away. Steve, his eyes glowing red out of hatred for Edmund, knelt on the ground next to him and started throwing punches at his face. Edmund’s face was disfigured; nose broken in several directions, jaw broken and face lathered in blood. Steve couldn’t bring himself to stop.

Why did Edmund think it was a good idea to slap Y/N in front of him? Soon something shiny caught Steve’s eye in Edmund’s pocket; pulling it out, Steve smirked when he saw a gun. “Close your eyes, princess,” he warned Y/N, “This sight is not about to be pretty at all.”

That was the last time Edmund ever bothered her.

---

“Good morning, Stevie!”

Steve smiled sleepily as he walked down the stairs, seeing his girlfriend in the kitchen cooking up some breakfast. 2 years had passed since Steve murdered Y/N’s ex-husband in cold blood; they’d now moved to a different city, away from all their previous associates, to start a new life much better than the last.

Y/N had not seen her parents in two years; those were the happiest years of her life. She only needed Steve, he was enough. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I made your favourite blueberry pancakes!” she told him and he smiled again. “Thank you baby, you’re the best!”

The two of them were living a comfortable life; with Y/N having won all of Edmund’s assets in the most satisfying of all court cases, neither of them needed to have a job for the time being. They were enjoying life, even thinking about starting a family and roaming the world.

“What do you wanna do after breakfast?”

“Oh, I’ve made plans with Cassandra and Suzy, the three of us are going shopping.”

“Shopping, again?! Aw, man, I wanted to spend the afternoon cuddled up with you… anyway, are Tom and Mitch going to be there too?”

“Yes, who’s gonna carry our bags?”

“Fair point. I’ll join you.”

“Yay! I love you, Steve.”

“I love you too, Y/N, more than you’ll ever know.”

---

a/n: thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

[iamfezcosblunt]

JACK HARLOW X FEM!READER: FUN TIMES IN LOUISVILLE - PART 1

Author's Notes: Whew we this is the moment y'all have been waiting for I finally had the motivation to finish up my first ever Jack Harlow fanfic post. This took a really long time because I started writing and then I just lost my whole entire motivation. But I had got it back and this is finally done I am happy with how this turned out. I will try to do more Jack content from now on and not be dry with him anymore lmao.

This will become two parts because it is so long. 😭

Also, not me having to do a little research on Louisville for me to get inspiration for this please 😂😭. ANYWAYS, hope you guys like it and let me know what you think!

@harlowscutie: This entire Series is for you. I hope you enjoy this fanfic! <3 :3

Description: You and Jack have both been super busy with work. You and Jack decided to take a week off to go back to his home town Louisville, Kentucky. Jack not only wanted to see his family but also he wanted to spend time with you.

Warning: slight cussing. little smut. Pure fluff and fun! :)

You and Jack have been super busy for the past few months. Jack has been working late at the studio non stop. You on the other hand are n owner of a popular bakery and you have been working at the bakery non stop taking orders and getting cakes catered for big events.

It was morning as you groaned as you rubbed your eyes awake and felt the sun hit your face. You were rubbing your eyes as you yawn and got up out of the bed. You noticed two suitcases sitting in front of the door and you notice Jack scrambling through the closet and quickly packing clothes in the suitcase.

"Jack.... wh- what are you doing?" You asked as you were looking at him confused

"I need a damn break, so I decided to take some weeks off and go back home to Louisville. I think you should call off too mamas." he said as he was trying to close a overpacked suitcase.

"Why do I need to call off?" You asked as you slowly walked over to Jack and helped him close the suitcase.

"Because you are coming with me." He said as he smiled cheekily as he tried to zip up the suitcase

"a- are you sure? I haven't really gotten to meet your parents and I don't think your parents will like me." You said as you looked at him getting nervous at the thought of meeting Jack's parents.

Jack looked at you in reassurance as he hugs you kissing your forehead "Yes, i'm sure mamas. My family would be absolutely crazy not to love you." You then sighed in relief and nodded as you cuddled up to him. You then went and got ready for you flight. A stop to Tennessee and a layover later you guys landed in Jack's hometown and you both were super exhausted. You ended up staying with Jack's family and you loved his family. They were super nice and really down to earth and chill.

"So, Y/N what do you do for a living?" Jack's mom asked as you were all sitting down at the table eating dinner

"Oh I own a bakery and I do cakes and cookies. Speaking of which-" you ran away from the table quickly and you went through your backpack and pulled out a small box of your famous Chocolate Chip cookies and you went back with the box in the hands and everyone looked at the box in awe and you opened it smirking "Dig in!" Jack's family looked in awe as they grabbed a cookie and ate one. "DAMN Y/N these are really good!" Jack's brother Clay said as he took another bite.

"Thanks Clay!" You smiled as you sat back down and finished your food.

After dinner you went to take a much needed shower and you were in you pjs and you put your hair up in a messy bun. You ended up sleeping in Jack's old room and sighed as your head hits the pillow. Jack came in and sighed and laid next you.

"Damn what a day." He said as he turned and looked over at you smiling stroking you face.

"mmm yea." you said as you started to kiss his neck and started to give him hickies. "Shit-" he groaned as he turned you up on top of him and he looked at you with pleading eyes.

"Ride me." He said wimpering as you slowly began to grind on him giggling teasing him. He began to moan as you kept going feeling him get hard just then you heard a knock at the door and you quickly stopped and looked at the door like a deer in headlights.

"Jack are you ok?" Jack's mom asked as you quickly got on the other side of the bed.

"Yea ma im fine!" Jack said as he looked you nervous and then at the door as you chuckled lightly as you slowly began again he quickly squeezed his eyes shut and covered his mouth as he tried not to moaned loud.

"Ok honey, goodnight." Jacks mom said as she left. Jack sighed in relief holding on to your waist and looked at you growling.

"You fucking little tease." You giggled and smirked as you got off of him and began to take off your large comfy t shirt leaving you topless and in really short shorts. Jack's mouth went wide as he looks in full blown lust as he began to litter your chest in hickies and you moaned lightly.

"Got imma fuck you so fucking good" Jack then flipped you over on your back and you giggled as you lifted the blanket over the two of you and giggles and moans began to fill the room.

THE NEXT DAY:

The next day you slowly woke up in bliss and heaven. You couldn't get last night out of your head.

"G'morning Jack." You said as you turned to see Jack not in bed. You looked confused and turned towards the nightstand as you notice a note on the night stand. You grabbed the note and opened it as it says:

"Get dressed and meet me outside in 1 hour. I have an amazing day planned for us."

Love you bunny,

Jackman

you quickly got up and dressed in your best outfit and you ran down stairs and you saw Jack standing there in his nice outfit holding roses and having a nice drop top Cadillac parked behind him. You look in pure shock as he chuckled and smiled.

"Jack what is this?" You asked as you looked at him confused but yet intrigued.

"I planned us a picnic at the park, a burbon tasting at one of my favorite spots and to top it all off going to take my lovely girl out to the zoo." Jack said as he hand you the flowers smirking he also had another plan up his sleeve but he wanted to wait to surprise you.

"Oh wow- Jack no one has ever done this for me before." You said gushing as you smelled the flowers and looked at him. You knew this whole entire trip was going to be fun and also get to learn more about Jack as well.

This was only just the beginning.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

[worth-more-than-two-thousand]

Omega’s Observations

Request:  Congrats on starting the blog!! Pumped to have a new writer's work to read 🥰 If you need some requests, how about an echo/gn!medic reader who he develops a crush on, for a little of that sweet sweet mutual pining action✨ Dunno if you write pre-citadel or just BB echo, but I'm happy with either. Have a good weekend!! :) (@krussyfed)

Author’s Note: Whew! This took a while for me to get to a place where I felt good about posting it. Honestly, as most of my writing does, it got a bit away from me, but that’s because I love fleshing out a story, showing-not-telling, and building on events from the canon. But if I saw this through until the end, I probably wouldn’t end up posting this for months! So I hope what I have here is worth the wait, and if you want more, let me know! 

Story Notes: Unbeta’ed, no obvious warnings. 

🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑

Ask her brothers to describe her, and ‘still and quiet’ would not be two of the words any of them would use. 

Hunter would call her curious to a fault, then ruffle her hair to let her know that he meant it in the nicest way possible. 

Wrecker would boom with laughter, proclaiming her one of them (“Always ready for action and adventurin’! Let’s go get those gundarks!”). 

Tech would probably consider for a moment, then use a four-syllable word. Like effervescent.

Echo would call her young and energetic, but his brow would furrow as though this might be a bad thing. Then he would inevitably follow up with a reminder to stay within sight and keep out of trouble. She didn’t mind. She knew he just worried about her. Omega would always reassure him that she would keep close to her brothers. Of course, whether it actually happened was usually another thing. 

Crosshair, if he was with them, would probably call her troublesome. 

But really, this was a tactical advantage. Her brothers never expected her to be still and quiet, so she could settle in and be observant when it was least expected of her. 

Omega was actually quite accustomed to being taciturn, at least when she needed to be. Her time with Nala Se, after all, was mostly like this. 

Watching over like a stone guardian as Nala Se pored over the capsules containing her modified brothers…

...being as unobtrusive as possible during another endless meeting with Lama Su…

...laying noiselessly and without complaint as Nala Se inserted a needle into her arm for yet another blood sample…

 These days, Omega could be as boisterous and vivacious (two more words Tech had taught her) as she wanted to be, so long as there was no chance of enemies being around. The only time she was obediently still by choice during these times was when she was being treated by Y/N, Clone Force 99’s on-board medic. 

Again, this was mostly out of habit from her time with Nala Se, but it wasn’t as bad. For one thing, Y/N fielded all of Omega’s questions with unending patience. And their hands were less clinical, more gentle than Omega was used to. Nala Se was efficient, not a movement wasted in her examinations. Y/N, however, always offered a comforting touch on the back after a scary encounter, and would gently but firmly place their hands on Omega’s face to look her in the eye to assess emotional well-being. 

The first time Y/N had done this was on the Ordo Moon, as Y/N was finishing wrapping up Omega’s small scratches on her hands and knees from her misadventures in the underground tunnels. 

At this point, not used to such close eye contact, Omega averted her eyes and looked over Y/N’s shoulder for something to distract her from the unusual awkwardness she felt. 

Her eyes met Echo’s. 

Her awkwardness vanished as he seemed to startle, a faint flush appearing on his neck, as he coughed, crossed his arms, and turned away, suddenly much more interested in examining the ship’s ceiling than anything else. 

What an interesting reaction. Her brain filed it away, curiosity piqued.  

Then, over the course of a few weeks, Omega confirmed her suspicions. 

Echo was always watching Y/N. Echo liked Y/N. 

Omega caught him absentmindedly gazing at Y/N’s hands as they tapped thoughtfully on a datapad while Wrecker carried new medical inventory aboard the Marauder during a supply run. 

After Wrecker’s successful inhibitor chip removal on Bracca, and Tech volunteered to go next, Omega watched Y/N’s hands fly across the medical controls, fierce determination sharpening their features. Glancing up, she saw that Echo’s attention was similarly arrested, a look on his face that was bordering very close to adoration. 

He seemed most captivated by Y/N’s hands, however, whenever they were treating him personally for any ailments or injuries. Echo always sat pin straight, almost comedically robotic (it would be funnier, but his history brought a sort of cruel irony to the thought) and allowing Y/N to turn his body and maneuver his prosthetic arm however was needed without any fidgeting or complaint. 

But his eyes were another story. Darting back and forth everywhere their fingers touched, such a stoniness to his face that Omega was certain he was committing every graze, every feather-light touch, to memory. Y/N, as always, was so focused on the medical work that they never seemed to notice. 

Omega saw things, though. Echo was like Y/N’s shadow, often slipping into the same room or area Y/N was in, like a ghost. She observed with fascination how he always angled himself to face her whenever there was a conversation in the cockpit. It didn’t matter if it was just the two of them, or if the entire squad was there and discussing a mission, it was as though he had attuned himself to wherever Y/N happened to be and was drawn to them.

Like a sunflower always facing the sun. 

She saw in the field how Echo, not Hunter, was usually the one to call the Marauder to check in or alert Y/N to any injuries that would need to be treated when they returned. How the space between his brows would crease whenever they would radio in but only receive the static of communications interference. 

Or worse, no answer at all. 

Echo wouldn’t say anything, but Omega felt that her brother’s steps would quicken, just a little. And she wasn’t sure she was just imagining a sudden sense of urgency in the air as they completed the mission, with just a bit more efficiency, a bit more ruthlessness than was usual. 

Omega saw how Echo always let out a tiny breath in relief, as though he had been holding it the whole time, whenever they returned to the Marauder with its medic unharmed. 

And she would never forget that one time they had returned to the Marauder, doors blasted open, interior trashed, with no medic in sight and droplets of blood leading away from the ship. 

Omega had never been in war, had only heard about it passively from the conversations between Nala Se and Lama Su, then a bit more directly from her brothers once she was allowed out of the private lab. 

She had once asked Tech about the war, but his response clearly paled in comparison to the dark look on Echo’s face, as they battled their way through enemy after enemy to rescue Y/N.

Omega felt as though she understood war a little bit more after this. At least its motivations. 

It took longer for Omega to figure out whether her brother’s feelings were reciprocated. Y/N’s affection wasn’t as obvious, but the trick was to watch more for their actions than in body language. 

Since Y/N and Tech slept the least, they would swap bunks and so were usually on opposite sleep schedules. This meant that Y/N would stay up late into the night well after the rest of the boys had retired to their bunks, face alight in the glow of a datapad. They would concentrate fiercely, chewing on their thumbnail and pausing often to tap notes into the margins. 

Omega eventually managed to snatch and break into Y/N’s data pad, and saw that they were working their way through a series of medical journals, detailing the latest treatment for prosthetics. There were also several articles on treating post-traumatic stress disorder for former prisoners of war. 

Omega had even checked Y/N’s search history, and discovered that they had been using an encrypted channel to search for chatter on the whereabouts of the former 501st legion and its various members. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Y/N had much luck so far, but if the number of searches were any indication, they weren’t giving up. 

Omega wondered incredulously how none of her other brothers had yet caught on to the two’s clearly mutual affection for each other. Until she realized that no, they already knew.

Once, when Omega had offered Echo some of her Mantell Mix, Echo had sniffed it, much to her amusement. Her giggles subsided immediately when Echo murmured apologetically that he sometimes had trouble digesting pretty much any food that wasn’t nutritional paste, due to half his digestive system being completely artificial. 

Of course, this meant that he must have been experiencing constant abdominal discomfort, as they hadn’t had any nutritional paste on the ship since their escape from Kamino. Hunter once mentioned to her that even the plainest of rations seemed to bother him, but he gamely never complained.

One day, Hunter was giving out rations in the cockpit, and had already given Tech and Wrecker their usual. Then he pulled out a green, unlabeled squeeze packet instead of the usual rations bar, and handed it to Echo, who took it with some confusion.

“What’s this?”

“New brand. It should be easier on your digestive systems than the usual stuff. Tastier, too.” 

Echo glanced at the packet skeptically, unscrewing the cap and sniffing at its contents. 

“It smells...fresh?” 

“Try it,” Hunter urged him, to which Echo obediently tried a small amount. 

His mouth rounded in a surprised ‘oh’. Omega wished she could have captured the look on his face with a holovid. He stared at the packet in his hands, with a look that was a bit like wonder and amazement. 

This didn’t escape Wrecker’s notice, who immediately stood up in protest. “What? Why does Echo get something new to eat?” He glanced forlornly at the slightly crumpled, stale rations bar in his hand. “I want some!” 

“They’re too expensive for your appetite, Wrecker,” Hunter replied, just a bit too quickly, though none of the others seemed to notice. “Besides, you probably wouldn’t like it.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that!” Wrecker proclaimed, swiping the packet from Echo’s hands despite Hunter’s attempt to chastise him. Wrecker took a giant slurp. 

...and immediately spat it out, some of it splattering on poor Gronk. 

“Blech! That tastes weird.” 

“Probably because it’s made of fruits and vegetables,” Tech said dryly, “Your palette likely isn’t sophisticated enough to appreciate the subtle bitterness and natural sweetness that are characteristic of those food categories.” 

Echo eyed Hunter skeptically. “And we have the money to keep buying these?” 

Hunter hummed, closing the rations box and turning away from the cockpit. “Omega’s paying for it from her holochess winnings.” She startled at the sudden mention of her name. “We have extra to spare, for now.” Hunter subtly winked at her when the others weren’t looking. 

“Oh. Thank you, Omega,” said Echo, looking at her with true gratitude. Omega flushed a bit, but mostly because it actually didn’t have anything to do with her. She played along, however, and insisted it was no problem. It did seem to make him happy, so there was no harm in a small lie like that, right? 

She cornered Hunter later, though, and insisted on him telling her the truth. After wearing him down a bit, he finally relented.

“Okay, but you can’t tell the others, all right? Believe me, I’ve already tried to talk them out of it. But Y/N has been doing some medical work on the side, working at one of the clinics near Cid’s bar. They’ve been using the money to buy these.” 

Omega’s face screwed up in confusion. “Why can’t you just tell Echo that?”

Hunter sighed. “Because they don’t want Echo to know. Figures that Echo wouldn’t like them going out on their own to work in the slums for his sake. They’re probably right, of course.” He rubbed at his forehead, a sure sign of an impending headache. 

Omega frowned, then decided to go for it.

“You know they like each other, right?” 

Hunter blinked at her, looking surprised. At her determined stare, he gave a sigh and muttered something like, ‘I’m getting too old for this’. He proceeded to explain patiently to her that perhaps Echo and Y/N liked each other, but pointed out how awkward or difficult it could be to have a romantic relationship in such close quarters, especially when they as a team also had bigger things to worry about. 

It sounded like Hunter had given this exact speech at least twice before. 

So Tech and Wrecker knew, then, but were being polite about it (or, in Wrecker’s case, had probably gotten an earful from Hunter earlier about tact and ‘minding one’s own business’). 

Well. That wouldn’t do. 

By the time Echo got up the nerve to say anything, he’d probably be old! (Omega wouldn’t, but she tried not to think too hard about that particular fact.)

So, she began to scheme. Quietly. 

She had the tactical advantage, after all. 

[melliflovs]

Personal Punching Bag - Gojo x Reader

Word Count: 1,627

Warnings: NSFW 18+, Sweaty!Gojo, Oral, Teacher Student relationship, slight daddy kink, aftercare, Sexual tension whew

Summary: Gojo meets you in the gym for a surprise session, except this one ends a bit differently ;)

A/N: This is part two, part one is on my masterlist! This is my first time writing smut so I hope you enjoy!

My requests are open!

It'd been a week since you'd seen Gojo outside of class. He'd made no mention of your gym session since it happened or any indication that he'd meant to follow up on his empty suggestion of "We should do this again sometime"

Admittedly it'd left you deflated. You'd found yourself distracted in class, daydreaming of his eyes under the blindfold and how they looked even prettier than the blue sky on a clear day. Instead of focusing on your studies, you were zoning out and your time spent in the gym after classes just left you frustrated and yearning for more.

You knew deep down you liked more than just his eyes, Gojo had given you more than enough to think of at night when you were alone in your dorm. The image of him shirtless and glistening in sweat permanently ingrained in your mind. Hormonal schoolgirl fantasies running wild.

It was so unlike you, you hadn't checked but you could tell your grades were slipping and your reflexes weren't as sharp as they used to be. In the event that you were sent on a mission, you didn't know if you'd be able to hold your own or if you'd have to rely on Yuji and Megumi for your safety. The thought of being defenseless against curses frustrated you. You were supposed to be better than that and you felt like you were letting yourself and others down.

Today you walked to the gym by yourself, you'd grown distant to your friends lately. Your head too far up in the clouds to handle any conversation. You opened the door, a glimmer of hope in your eyes before it inevitably faded.

He wasn't there. Again.

With a sigh you took off your shoes, stepping onto the plush mat, and approaching your usual punching bag. The bright red canvas seemed to taunt you as you got into the stance that your sensei taught you not long ago.

You swung and hit the bag weakly, the dull thud reaching your ears and making you groan in annoyance. Abandoning your stance you let hell rain down on the punching bag. Swing after swing battered the equipment.

"You know I'm probably a better sparring partner than that bag."

His voice made your heart sing, your fist pausing mid-air when you heard it. Shaking your head you brushed the stupid feeling off. Internally scolding yourself. You don't have time for this.

"Why are you here, Sensei." You were clearly annoyed, your tone laced with irritation.

Gojo simply didn't care, "I thought we discussed that. Calling me Sensei outside of class." He was teasing, you could tell but you were tired. Your muscles beginning to ache from your pitiful workout.

"Fine," You spit. "What are you doing here, Gojo."

"You're clearly frustrated," He mused "Why don't you take it out on me" Without a second thought you turned and swung at him. Fist flying faster than he'd anticipated. Even though it caught him off guard at first, he recovered quickly and caught your fist, holding it in his own.

For a moment you both stilled, it was the first time you'd made eye contact in a while. His blindfold was already removed and you momentarily felt lost. With a smirk, he snapped you out of your daze by pulling you forward by your hand.

Tripping over your own feet you fell into his chest with a soft thud. He felt warm and smelled like honey and freshly washed laundry. You felt a laugh rumble through him as he spoke, "Don't get too comfortable, we haven't even begun."

Before you had a chance to question what he'd meant he used his other hand to tilt your head up to kiss you. It started off slow at first, lips melting together as it felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. You'd wanted this so badly, but you'd also wanted more.

You became greedy, slipping your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss, and pulling him closer. Gojo bent down to respond to your advances, tearing himself away from you for a moment to trail his lips down your neck.

He began sucking and biting lightly with his mouth, trailing lower as you pressed up against him. The grey sweatpants he wore to the gym left little to the imagination but what you felt against you was no dream.

You reached down to his bulge, clearly growing bigger the farther the two of you went. Your breathing grew heavy as you palmed him through his sweats. "S-Sensei"

"No." He growled out between sloppy kisses, his hands moving to your breasts. "Say my name, (y/n). Say it."

"Gojo" You moaned as his inquisitive fingers slipped under your bra and began to play with your nipples, the action sending small shocks to your core.

"I- I wanna make you feel good, Gojo." You whispered in between small pants as his hands continued to shamelessly roam your body. Your workout had already left you feeling sweaty but his actions were making your blood pressure rise. His hands relented and you took it as you greenlight.

Sinking down to your knees, you looked up at him through your lashes, eyes becoming clouded with lust. In one swift motion, you pulled down his sweats. To your surprise he'd gone commando, the soft look of shock on your face made him smirk. His blue eyes darkening as he watched his cock spring forward towards your beautiful face.

He'd never have admitted it but he'd imagined this very moment multiple times over the past week, hands moving over his own length late at night with your name on his lips.

Slowly you took him in your hand, slowly pumping him as you wet your lips. Your tongue flicked out towards his tip, the smallest of touches made Gojo moan softly, spurring you on. You wrapped your tongue around him. Slowly beginning to inch your way down his impressive length.

His hands found their way into your hair, petting you softly as you worked and keeping it out of your face. Gojo looked down on you with adoration, stroking your cheek softly as held back a moan.

"You're doing so well, baby." He praised, "Making your daddy, feel so good."

The name made your eyes widen and your thighs clench, you looked up at him as you took him all into your mouth. Your hand gripping his leg for stability.

You felt drool escape your mouth as you bobbed your head, listening to breath hitch as you looked up into his eyes. You moaned around him, feeling yourself growing even wetter.

Gojo tapped your cheek lightly, prompting you to stop your movements. You released him with a pop, his cock even harder than before as he pulls you up off the floor. "I want to be inside you, Baby. Wanna feel you come around me."

You moaned softly at the idea, quickly turning into a mess. He picked you up by your waist, wrapping your legs around him. As he walked you could feel him rubbing against your clothed heat, bringing you to the wall. He set you down for a moment, reaching down to drag down your yoga pants and squeezing your ass before lifting you again.

Hoisting you up he buried his face in your neck, your hair sticking to your skin with sweat. You felt like your nerves were on fire. Every little ministration going straight to your bundle of nerves that begged to be touched. Gojo started kissing your neck as his thumb moved your panties to the side, exposing yourself to him.

His fingers toyed with your folds, spreading your wetness up to your clit before slowly circling the bud. He could feel you tense up under him, your thighs tightening around his waist as you involuntarily pulled him closer, his cock rubbing against you.

Slowly he entered you with a hiss. Your warmth enveloping him as he started to thrust at a brutal pace. You were both so pent up, the thought of release taking over as you began rutting against each other. Gojo whispering sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how tight you are and how good you've been for daddy as you moan uncontrollably.

It felt as though as much time had passed but simultaneously not enough. You wanted to be lost in him forever.

You could feel him hitting against your cervix, you felt so full, so fulfilled after yearning for a week of your dreamy-eyed Sensei.

Gojo.

You could scream it from the rooftops until your lungs ached. So you did, the sound filling the gym and no doubt the surrounding hallways, but you didn't care. The feeling of him rutting against you and setting your skin ablaze took away all reason, your chants only making him go deeper and faster. His finger found his way back to your clit as you continued to edge closer to your end. Beginning to lightly shake from the exhaustion and pleasure.

"Let go, (y/n). Come around my cock."

His words set you over the edge, your body tensing again as you moaned his name lewdly. All you could think about was how good you felt stretched around him.

Gojo came shortly after finishing inside you and riding out your highs. Slowly he slipped out of you, his hair covering his face as he pushed yours to the side, giving your forehead a kiss. Carefully he lowered you to the ground, letting you rest as he walked to his gym bag that you'd long forgotten and grabbed a small towel. Carefully he cleaned you up then sat back down beside you.

Wrapping his arm around you he smiled softly "I'll be your personal punching bag anytime."

Temporarily accepting people for a jjk taglist, just comment on this post to be added!

Tag List: @foxerj12

[eideticmemory]

the day | matthew gray gubler

In which Matthew is a pisces and you’re a writer.

Word Count: 1.6k.

Warning: Tooth-rotting fluff that I cannot believe I actually wrote. Featuring ‘Lover, you should’ve come over’ by Jeff Buckley, if you wanted to listen while reading.

Matthew never wears his airpods.

They sit there, charging on his desk, all day long, all week long. He doesn’t wear his airpods. You know that, it is a fact. They’re trinkets, decoration, a little bit of a flex, but, Matthew never wears his airpods.

So, the question is: Why the hell has he had them in all week? Every hour, of every day — those little, white airpods hung from his ears like an aura of isolation.

It must be revenge, you thought. It must be his way of coping with the ridiculous amount of time you spend in his office. Alone, putting pen to paper. Initially, he’d peek his head in every once in a while, after you’d been of a bit of a writer’s bender, just to remind you that he loved you. That he was proud of you.

Yet, when it’s your wedding vows sitting on the desk, waiting to be written — when you need him to come in, give you that sweet smile and tell you how much he adores you . . . he’s wearing his airpods.

Matthew never wears his airpods. Your fiancé nevers wears his airpods. And for such a small thing, it’s starting to freak you out. Because one week before your wedding is not the time to do this. Not the time for distance, and insecurity. Not the time for Matthew to be walking around the house, constantly, wearing those fucking airpods.

He coasted his way past the office doors, your eyes following his figure like a light. You trained in on his ears, the white specks clear and visible as he walked right by you. Once he was out of your sight, you released a frustrated huff and set your pen down atop your note pad, put your face in your hands.

You sighed, spoke in a sad and quiet voice, “Matthew Gray . . . what the hell are you doing?”

You didn’t see him at all the day before your wedding. He facetimed you that night to say goodnight, that he loved you, and he would see you Saturday. His voice was so soft, so genuine, so full of love. And all you could focus on was the airpods hanging from his ears.

“I’m ready to marry you, Matthew Gray,” you said. “Are you ready to marry me?”

His face transitioned to a gentle, ever so slightly confused, expression, and he replied, “Believe me . . . I’ve ever been more ready for anything in my life.”

You smiled, “Then I will see you at altar.”

He grinned, “See you at the altar.”

You had stars in your hair. Little clips in the side of your head that made your eyes sparkle. As you were dressed and assisted throughout the big day, you held a crumbled, jumbled, scratched up piece of paper in your hand. It wasn’t perfect, hell, you weren’t even sure it was good. But it was honest, and it was loving, and it took you months to write. Your biggest project yet, if you must say so yourself.

At last call, you were alone, staring at the words as if you didn’t already know each one by heart.

“[y/n],” your friend called. “You ready?”

And, not for the first time, you crumbled the paper up between your fists. Crushed it, smushed it. Threw it to the ground, looked yourself up and down in the mirror. Glitzy, glammy, gorgeous. Dressed in ivory — not white, wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.

You exhaled, whispered, “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

Your hands shook. From the start to the finish of the aisle. You sought comfort in Matthew, never taking your eyes off him. But damn, if he doesn’t look so good that it’s nerve racking. He held your small hands in his palm, told you that you looked beautiful, with tears threatening to roll down his face, already.

He’d insisted not too long ago that you be the first to read your vows. Just the thought made you tremble, anxious at the vulnerability, and the hundreds of eyes and ear waiting to hear what you’ve got. Matthew noticed this, and put his hands on around your forearms.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Hey . . . just talk to me.”

You did. You held his eyes on yours, you recited your poetry, you silenced the entire building. Only pausing to inhale shaky breaths, and to wipe the tears from his face.

“And I love you,” you choked on your words. “And I thank you, so much, for showing me what true love is, Matthew Gray. Thank you for being . . . the absolute love of my life.”

Matthew could only reply would a somber laugh, wiping away the excess tears from his face. “Whew . . .” he breathed out. “Wow . . . how the hell am I supposed to follow that?”

The space erupted in soft laughter.

Your own laughter included.

The two of you were formally introduced as Mister and Misses Gubler, surrounded by a wave of applause within the reception hall. Matthew raised your bound hands into the air, proud, joyful. He had you, he finally fucking had you. Until death do you part.

He left you centered in the middle of the dance floor, illuminated by the soft light, as he made his way upon the stage, located right in front of you.

“Hi, everyone,” he waved. “I’m Matthew Gubler, I’m [y/n]’s husband —“

You laughed along with everyone else, who hooted and hollered at his declaration.

“Thank you, thank you . . .” he smiled. “Thank you all for being here, for supporting [y/n] and I, it means so much.”

You tilted your head at him, his focus finally being directed at you once again. “[y/n] . . . my love . . . I’ve waited forever for this day. Forever. And if you will do me the honors, I’d like nothing more than to dance with you . . . to have our first dance as husband and wife to — to a song that I first heard when I was fifteen. To a song that . . . I’ve been listening to ever since we first met three years ago, a song that . . . has been on repeat in my head in preparation for this moment, right here, right now.”

As you held your hand out for him, gentle guitar flowed from the speaker, though it wasn’t any riff that you recognized. Matthew joined you in the center of the dance floor, pulling you close as you whispered, “Matthew Gray . . . what are you up to?”

“I’m dancing with you . . .” he smiled, setting his hands tightly on your waist, your arms draped over his shoulders. “I’m serenading you.”

Looking out the door,

I see the rain fall upon the funeral mourners.

“Parading in a wake of sad relations, as their shoes fill up with water,” Matthew sang, gently.

“Oh, he’s singer, too,” you giggled.

He chuckled, “Shut up — Maybe I'm too young, to keep good love from going wrong. But tonight, you're on my mind so, you'll never know . . .”

Broken down and hungry for your love,

With no way to feed it

Where are you tonight?

Child, you know how much I need it.

“Too young to hold on, and too old to just break free and run,” setting your head on his shoulder, you let him sing in your ear. “Sometimes a man gets carried away, when he feels like he should be having his fun , much too blind to see the damage he's done. Oh, sometimes a man must awake to find that, really, he has no one.”

So I'll wait for you, and I'll burn,

Will I ever see your sweet return,

Or, will I ever learn?

Lover, you should've come over,

'Cause it's not too late.

Matthew’s grip tightened around your waist, his long arms engulfing you in an effort to get closer to you, closer than humanly possible.

Lonely is the room the bed is made,

The open window lets the rain in,

Burning in the corner is the only one,

“Who dreams he had you with him . . .” slowly, your husband, your husband, looked in your eyes, “My body turns, and yearns for a sleep, that won't ever come.”

“It's never over,” he sang to you. “My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder . . .” following the words with a small kiss to the top of your shoulder. As if in immediate response to the words, and the physical touch, tears began to pour down your face.

“It's never over, all my riches for her smiles,

when I slept so soft against her.”

“It's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter.”

“It's never over,” and these lyrics, he sang with your face in his hands and his lips touching to your forehead. “She’s the tear that hangs inside my soul forever.”

You sobbed, pulled him closed, nuzzled your face into his neck, held on for dear life to the back of his head.

But maybe I'm just too young,

To keep good love from going wrong.

Oh lover, you should've come over.

I feel too young to hold on,

I'm much too old to break free and run.

Too deaf, dumb, and blind,

To see the damage I've done.

Sweet lover, you should've come over.

“Oh, lover, I've waited for you,” when he said this, it wasn’t a melody. It was spoken, softly, soulfully.

“Lover, lover, lover, lover, love, love, love, lover, you should've come over . . . ‘cause it's not too late . . .”

Every word.

No stumbles, no stutters, no faltering.

Matthew never wears his airpods.

But when he does, it’s for a good reason.

[midnxghtsunwrites]

STUFFED | 18+

PAIRING —

chris evans x black reader

SUMMARY —

all throughout dinner, chris was being his beefy, annoying, fine ass white frat boy self with that muscle top and backwards cap and tattoos and muscles on display... maaaaaaaaaaaan, fuck him. literally.

WARNINGS —

18+ smut (of course), penetration without protection ( remember y'all, no glove, no love ) , oral (female receiving), over stimulation, dirty talk, slight praise kink, a peck of aftercare

NOTES —

this headcanon is based on a pic i saw on twitter lmfaoooooooooooo plus chris and his weekly thirst trap. also this video on twitter — don't open the link around people lmfaooo. i do not own this gif of chris!

also y'all, feel free to request headcanons or imagine, etc. i'd be glad to write for you! <33

( not my gif )

you have had it up to 📈 here with chris and his annoying self

since this year's thanksgiving is significantly different from last year, you'd gathered with chris, scott, their mom and sisters and your parents who'd been quarantined for two weeks in preparation for tonight

you don't know who gave him the damn right to be walking (well, sitting) around looking this buff and cuddly

everyone who didn't live with you and chris (and scott at the moment) took extra precautions by wearing masks whenever they're not eating

you deadass paid attention to nothing but chris's meaty arms whenever he stretched into the center of the table and a vein popped

or whenever he would swing an arm to rest behind your seat when he was finished eating and engaging in dinner conversation with your parents

the night was chill and laid back — you didn't even feel like dressing up too much

and then chris just HAD TO WEAR THE MUSCLETOP

he didn't put the cap back on until everybody scattered from the dinner table

and damn, were you trying to not jump him

it was when everybody left and scott retreated to his room that things started to go down

it was late as hell and you were making your night-time mint tea

he walked into the kitchen with an empty glass of water

"you want some tea, babe?" you'd asked him

your back was turned to him so you didn't see when he put the glass in the sink and approach you, a slick smirk on his face

"im good. but i could go for something else." he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back into him

next thing you know, you're laid on the bed, buck ass naked, your back against his chest and his fingers rubbing on your soaked clit

he'd already given you two orgasms with his tongue, now he's going for a third with his fingers

he has one hand wrapped around your throat, craning your neck back to meet his lips

he groans against your lips, "c'mon, baby... i know you got some more left in you. there you go."

this man has you shaking like a major earthquake is ramming through you

luckily, scott's room is on the other side of chris's boston home — cause the way you're screaming is loud enough to wake just about anybody up

"fuck!" you ride out your orgasm against his naked body, his erection pressing up against the small of your back

"good job, sweetheart." he moans at the sight of you — your eyes flutter closed and you take your bottom lip into your mouth, "think we can go for four?"

you can't even open your mouth to answer so you just hum and nod, slowly but eagerly

he slips into your wet cunt without problem — you're so slick that he lets out a pleased grunt, savoring in your warmth

with one hand still around your throat and the other rubbing your clit, you both release loud moans

"fucking hell, baby, you're so fucking wet..."

at his words, you can't help but grind back against him, his hips snapping up into you and your ass pushing against him

chris is so lost in the pleasure of chasing his orgasm that he moves his fingers from your clit and grabs and squeezes your breast, pinching your nipples

he's so deep in you that when you close your eyes, you see stars

your skin is layered in sweat, sweat that chris has no problem dragging his tongue along

he grunts into your ear, "come on, baby, i know you can give me another one."

the pleasure is insane

and yes, you can give him another one

and you do — your body seizing and tears running down your face

but that's not where it ends

even when you're shaking from your sudden high, chris is still snapping his hips into you

"wait wait wait" you reach a hand back and press against his stomach, making him pause immediately — he knows your limits

you gulp, finally able to catch your breath as he peppers kisses up and down your neck

"you okay?" he asks you, sweetly, gingerly running a hand over your skin

he massages your breasts to soothe the soreness from the grip he had on you

you take a moment to calm your breathing, chris rocking in you slowly, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you

"you're alright, y/n, i gotchu. it's okay, i'm here."

WHEW HIS VOICE WHEN HE SAYS THAT TO YOU

you allow yourself fifteen seconds before you finally nod your head and crane your neck back to kiss him, "i'm good."

that's his signal to keep doing what he was doing — but harder and faster

the hand that was around your throat intertwines with your fingers as he thrusts into you with no remorse

the pleasure is OVERWHELMING with how sensitive your bud is

his manhood throbs inside of you as he feels his orgasm approach

now it's his mission to get you to get a fifth orgasm

"you like when i fuck you like this, baby?" he moans into your ear, "can feel my dick deep in this pussy?"

"fuuuuuuu —" you whimper as chris fucks you relentlessly, "i'm gonna cum, chris!"

your words didn't even come out as words, just nonsensical mush — your eyes cross and your entire body heats up

with your free hand, you grip the sheets and the edge of the bed, your body becoming numb

it's a satisfying twinge that shocks you — like when your foot falls asleep, pins and needles all over your body

your pussy clenches around your boyfriend's dick

chris moans in your ear, his orgasm washing over him — he pumps his cum into you, a shudder rambling down his spine and his manhood releasing spastic twitches

you're practically useless as your head drops on the pillow, limp and exhausted

your body seems to move on its own accord — gyrating against him to ride out your insane high

chris pulls out and runs a hand over your thigh — trying to calm you down

"good job, baby," he says, soothingly, "you did so good for me. you're amazing, you know that?"

you can only allow a small snort to escape you as you lean back into him as best you can

"how 'bout i set you a bath and bring your tea up?"

"yes please." you huff out, eagerly

general taglist : @gwenspacy @saccreigns @complacentviawattpad @rosenoirwrites @random-ficreader23 @kyla-queen

let me know if you'd like to join any of my taglists! feel free to like, reblog, and comment! also, my asks are open — and im taking requests!

[vosiro]

⇾ Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurō x F!reader

⇾ Warnings: this shit nasty fr 18+, also CEO!Kuroo bc that’s sexy,

⇾ Authors note: In honor of my husbands birthday, I decided to write this nasty ass shit😜. See, ion know what demon POSSESSED me to write this but...🧍🏾‍♀️anyway, Y/n is implied black, but if you’re not black it’s ite!! There will be some use of AAVE on Y/n’s part tho, and she not finna be one of them “I-I-...b-but k-kuroo!” Shy bitches NONE OF DHET. She a bad bitch and that’s on prd. (Shy bitches still bad doe!!) is this self indulgent? Yea idc 💃🏾

≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣ ≣

It was officially November 17, your husband’s birthday. When you had woken up, kuroo had already left for work, so the bed was empty. For the past week and a half you’ve been contemplating what to get him. You see, for your birthday, kuroo always showered you in gifts, money, clothes, anything you wanted. That was exactly the problem. Kuroo had the money, the expenses and the power to get anything either you or him wanted, what could you possible get him that he couldn’t already afford himself. For the past couple years y’all were married, you two always went to some fancy restaurant to eat, then went to a hotel to have some casual birthday sex. This year, you wanted it to be different, you wanted it to be special.

You walked into your local bar in a thin, golden bodycon dress, with a black, expensive fluffy jacket, that just made your skin pop. You just looked like walking money. And ofcourse kuroo had to have his girl walking around with that Hermes Birkin 30cm Himalayan with diamond hardware. You looked around the bar before you saw kiyoko waiting at a table. “Heyy shimizu” you gleamed, sitting down at the empty seat across from kiyoko. “Hey, Y/n-Chan” she replied, passing you the drink that was preordered.

“So.” You sigh.

“So? What’s wrong?” Kiyoko questioned.

“I don’t know what to get tetsu for his birthday...” you replied, taking a sip of your drink.

“I’m sure he’ll like anything you get him.” She reassured.

“Girl, but listen...This man got 4 cars, 3 houses, a visa black card, and a bad ass bitch. What more does he need...wtf do you be getting ryōsuke for his birthday??” You questioned

“Well, he usually likes anything I get him. It’s all about the thought y/n. You love him right? Any gift from your heart, he’ll like.” Kiyoko answered.

“Girrrr....you right, you right. Matter ah fact, I have an idea.” You grabbed your lil birkin bag and started to get out the chair “thank you shimizu! Make sure you get to the party at 7:30, tetsu’ll be back at 8!” You said as you rushed out the bar.

You made your way to the expensive lingerie store that was right next to the penthouse you live in with your husband. You quickly entered the store, looking around for something sexy, but cute, but nasty. Kuroo would never admit it, but he gets flustered easily. When you bend over, when you lean down infront of him and he gets a nice view of your tits, when your skirt’s a little too short, when you call him in the middle of a business meeting, and he has to excuse himself so he can fuck his fist to your moans and cries over the phone. You knew exactly how to rile him up, and that’s one of the things he loved about you.

You’ve been browsing the lingere sets at the store for a while, before you see it. A perfect thin, red, sexy, lingerie with garter belts. Not to toot your own horn or anything, but this would just make your skin pop. You quickly grab the set and pay for it, making your way back to the penthouse after.

———————————————————————

It was currently 7:58. Kuroo was expected to arrive at 8. Guests were under the table, hiding behind chairs, any possible place a person could squeeze themselves into. You were hiding under behind the kitchen counter with kiyoko. “Psst. Shimu,” you whispered.

“I’m right here y/n..” she replied.

“Right... anyway, guess what I got tetsu for his birthday.” You asked eagerly.

“Your love and affection??” She answered.

“Girl no...well yes...but no.” You said.

“Then what?” Kiyoko questioned.

“I got 𝐿𝒾𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒.” You replied

“You’re making him wear lingerie??” She said.

“...😏” You smirked

“I’m kiddi-”

*clack*

The door to the penthouse opened slowly and everyone let out a big

“SURPRISE!”

Bokuto ran up to kuroo and gave him a big bear hug “HAPPY BIRTHDAY BRO!” he exclaimed. Kuroo went around greeting everyone, and thanking them for showing up. You were still talking with kiyoko before he started to approach you. “I should leave you two alone.” She she said before walking away to talk with her own husband.

“You planned all of this for me, baby?” He cooed as he took you into his arms for a hug, “yessuh, anything for you.” You said nuzzling your face into his chest. He started to place small kisses down your neck “fuck...I missed you...” His breath was hot against your skin “not here...let’s wait till the party’s over okay, babe?” You wanted to, you wanted to so bad... but one thing about kuroo is he goes feral when you make him wait

———————————————————————

11:00. The last few guests had left a while ago, and kuroo had just got done finishing his shower after you had yours. He walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, his chiseled chest on full display. This man was always so damn fine, like whew fuck it’s getting hot in hea fr. He sat next to you and started kissing ur collar bone, slowly removing your robe from your skin.

“You don’t understand how bad I wanted to fuck you,” He whispered into your skin. “I was hard the entire night...”

He completely removed the robe from your skin. “Oya? What’s this, baby?”

“Surprise.” You moaned slightly as he slid his hands to grip your ass “tonight, I’ll let you do anything you want to me..”

He halted in his movements “anything?”

“Mhm~” you reassured

You reach down to palm him through the towel, “someone’s really excited.” You say as you stroke him slowly. “That’s because my girl looks so damn sexy right now...and she’s letting me do whatever I want tonight.” Kuroo reaches down to rub circles on your clit.

“Mm~” he stick his tongue down your mouth as you let out your moan. “You’re so wet...it’s seeping through your panties and spilling onto my fingers..” he grins “only for you, daddy..” you say.”

“Fuck..the whole day I was thinking about coming home and fucking you... I even jerked off to the thought of you at work today,” He flipped you over onto your hands and knees, “Now you’re here...all sexy for me.” The towel slid off, and so did your panties as well. “I’m gonna fuck you so good baby, you won’t be able to walk or talk after..” he cooed, rubbing his tip along your folds

“W-wait tetsu, you just not gon prep me or n-fuck!!” He slammed his cock into you with a deep groan.

“Just Shutup and t-take it... fuckk...you’re tight.” He moved in and out of your cunt at an agonizingly slow pace.

“Faster daddy..” you moaned out

“Yea? My baby’s feeling good?” He picked up his pace and started jamming into you harder. You lifted your body up slightly. “Stay the fuck down.” He growled as he grabbed your neck, not wanting to mess up your hair. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good baby.” He was picking up the paste and hitting that one spot he knew you liked. You were moaning loudly into the pillow before he flipped you over onto your back.

“I wanna see that pretty face when I fuck you.” He started fucking you slowly in mission watching his dick get covered in your cream as went in and out. He then took your hand and put it on your lower stomach. “You feel that baby?” He picked up his pace slightly. “You feel how deep I am? Fuck.” His eyes were tainted with lust, and cheeks painted with blush. Your hand felt each and every thrust he was putting into you.

“F-fuck tetsu, you’re so big..” you whimpered. Kuroo was always a sucker for praise. “Yea? Look at you, you’re such a good girl taking all of it.” He groaned out.

“Open your mouth baby.” He stuck two fingers in your mouth coating them in saliva, then slowly sheathing them into your other right hole. You whine out at the stretch. “I want both of my kitten’s holes to be filled tonight.” He let out as he stretched your ass.

“Shit, relax baby, you’re so tight you’re gonna cut off my circulation.”

“F-feels s’good” you moaned as he continued to satisfy both your holes. “C’mere baby.” He pulled you into the reverse cowgirl position. “You knew what you were doing naughty girl” he groaned as you bounced on his dick “shit...dressing up...fuck...like that.” You were squeezing him so tightly and it just felt so good.

“Yes, I knew..mm~” there was no point in lying, you knew exactly how kuroo would react. He landed a smack on your ass “I’ll have to punish you princess,” you heard a spit noise come from behind you, then felt a warm trail of saliva roll down onto you right puckered ass hole. Kuroo massaged the liquid around the hole “fuck, you think my dick would fit in here? My cum dripping out of you pussy and you ass? That’s so sexy..” you winced as he stuck his thumb inside. “Shi.. does it feel that good? You like that? You’re squeezing so tight, fuck.” He groped your ass, letting out a low moan.

“Suck your cream off my dick baby.”

“Yes daddy.” You replied getting off of him and on your knees. You take his girth cock into your mouth. You started bobbing your head quickly, tasting yourself on his dick. He place a firm grip on the top of your head. “Y-yes, just like tha...mm.. fuck.. your so good to me baby.” His hips started bucking into your mouth roughly, you could tell he was close “fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

He grabbed your head halting you to stop. “I wanna cum inside you..”

“Then do it daddy, cum inside me...”

“Fuck. Get on your hands and knees.”

He slid back into you once again letting out a deep moaning after regaining stimulation “how are you still this fucking t-tight...no matter how hard I fuck you...fuck.” He leaned forward and stuck his fingers in your mouth while pounding you into the mattress.

“Mm~ tetsu I’m close~” you whined out

“Yeah? Cum for me baby, milk my cock, I’m gonna stuff you so good.” Ah yes, an even more feral kuroo...truly delicous. “I’m gonna fill you up with my kids...fuck what if you get pregnant.” He groaned. “You’d look so cute with your tummy swollen.” He started picking up his paste, pounding into your sweet spot even harder. “Tetsu, I’m- nngh~ fuck.” Your orgasm washed over you, you were completely fucked out, but he still kept pounding into you.

“Fuck. That’s right, cum on my dick.” One of his arms were on the headboard while the other was wrapped so comfortably around your neck. “C’mon baby. Cum for me one more time. I know you can do it.” He grunted

“I c-cant tetsu.” Your body was still shaking in ecstasy. “Yes you can, c’mon” The hand around your neck reached down to rub your wet clit rough and fast. Needless to say he had you cumming in no time. “Fuck fuck fuck tetsu-”

“Shit, I’m almost there baby, just hold on for a littl- fuck.. bit more.” His thrust started to grow sloppy. “Fuck, I’m cu-uh..nngh.” He let out the most deep and beautiful moan as he spilled his seed into you with one last thrust. You fell onto your back and kuroo right on to of you.

“Fuck baby, that was the best birthday present ever.” He huffed, still out of breath

“Mm~ tetsu! You went too rough..now I’m finna be aching all day. My entire body hurts.” Yo complained.

“Atleast your sexy and in pain.” He said, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Stfu.”

Fin.

———————————————————————

Did I proof read this? No🧜🏽‍♀️ anyways I wish kuroo a happy birthday mwah 🥰

Me writing plot: 🤮👺🤢👹

Me writing sex scenes: 😏🌝😜🥰