#it's been closed the second they took the plea. they can be striking under that courthouse and it still won't change a thing and they knowi

[alexcabotgf]

not to be true crime posting on main but i think i'm falling down the wm3 rabbit hole again

[marc-spectorr]

J,t,v for the nsfw alphabet

With The moon boys?

i apologize for going overboard with this one theres literally 1k words here 🌝

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

steven: there have been one or two times where steven needed to relieve himself at work after seeing the spicy photos you’d sent to him as a tease. the second his break starts, he's rushing to the restroom that receives the least amount of foot traffic. he locks himself in the furthest stall, quickly fumbling with his pants and boxers as he pulls up the images of you on his phone. he's harshly biting down the collar of his shirt to suppress the moans pouring out of him, his free hand pumping his cock hard and fast until he's spilling all over his palm and fingers. before steven cleans it up though, he shakily takes a picture of the mess he's made and texts it back to you.

marc: marc jerks off seldom. honestly, he'd rather experience an orgasm with you than give himself one bc it's simply not as satisfying. but ofc there would be days when he's away on a mission, and you're not there to take care of him, so he has to do it all on his own. it starts with a phone call, and you can tell almost immediately from his voice how strung up he is. how much he wants and needs you. you guide marc the whole time, telling him exactly what to do and where to touch himself. spit on your hand, tug at your balls, work yourself slow and steady, add a twist on the down stroke just the way you like it, baby— he heeds every instruction given, even if your sultry voice is all but a hazy whisper in his ear. once you order him to cum, that's when he does. and god, it might not feel as amazing as finishing inside of you, but it's close enough.

jake: when the mood suddenly strikes him, and he has no passengers in his taxi, jake will pull into an empty alleyway, shutting the engine and lights off. he doesn't get to see you till later that morning to pick you up at the end of your overnight shift. even then, he won't initiate anything, knowing you're too tired for sex. so jacking off in the car would have to do for now. with his aching cock in his fist, he thinks of the last time he fucked you in this cab. squeezing his eyes shut, he could hear the sounds of your whimpers and pleas in his head as he railed you into those leather seats. it doesn't take long until he reaches his peak, too lost in his pleasure that he almost forgets to grab a tissue from the glove compartment and cums into it. he hates it when he ends up staining his seats.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

steven: expanding more on the steven tiddie worship asks yesterday,,, steven comes home one day and finds a package addressed to you from a sex toy company, and it piqued his interest, to say the least. you don't tell him straight away what it is you'd bought, only finding out later that evening after his clothes have been torn off and he's lying in bed, all whiny and needy. steven's eyes grow wide when you finally show him what you'd purchased— nipple clamps. he feels something cold being fitted securely over his right areola, then his left. a metallic chain rests on his now heaving chest, and he moans at the numbing pressure on his nipples. the sensation leaves steven a writhing mess under you, and he hopes he remembers to thank you afterward for introducing him to this.

marc: soon after marc brought up the idea, you'd quickly place an order for it. a strap-on. pegging was something that took him a lot of courage to ask, and he was quite relieved when you were keen on giving it a try. while waiting for the strap-on to arrive, you spent days prepping him for anal penetration, rimming him, using your fingers and plugs. the sensation was unlike any other, and when it's time for the actual pegging, he loses his goddamn mind. not only did marc find it sexy watching you fuck his peachy ass, but the added stimulation also has him crying out wantonly. in the end, his body is literally left shaking as waves of pleasure overtake him, and he swears that he has never come this hard in his life.

jake: jake buys you a pair of vibrating panties for your birthday, and it's both the best and worst fucking thing ever. he makes you wear it during dinner that night, the remote control tucked inside the front pocket of his pants for easy access. he's a little shit with it, too, turning up the vibrations when the waitress takes your orders, and she notices how flustered you are in your seat. he kicks it up a notch after your food arrives, a smirk curling devilishly on his lips as your trembling fingers reach for your wine glass. by dessert, you're on the verge of an orgasm, and jake's enjoying this way too much. he cranks it to the highest setting as soon as you return to the car, making you come so hard that a scream tears at your throat, alerting passersby outside.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

steven: steven is the most vocal out of the three. he loves to talk, especially during sex. he's always checking on you regularly, ensuring that what he's doing is all alright. when steven's balls deep inside of you, he doesn't hold back his sounds. he knows how much you get turned on just by hearing his soft groans and breathy whines. sometimes, he's even louder than you are, so loud that it disturbs your neighbors next door, but neither of you could bring yourself to care. 

marc: when you first started sleeping together, marc was pretty quiet. he'd occasionally let out punctured gasps and shallow grunts while expertly pounding in and out of you but usually kept his noises subdued. after a while and with a bit of encouragement however, he lets his guard down and allows you to hear how good you make him feel. marc loves showering you with praises, murmuring into your skin how well you take his cock, how wet and tight you are as he drills into you. his moans tend to crescendo the closer he is to his climax, and when he finally cums, your name leaves his lips in a broken whimper.

jake: one word. feral. that's the most accurate word for it, for the sounds jake makes when he's fucking you into oblivion. he's cursing and growling and snarling into the air, hissing out your name when he feels you clench around him like a vice. when he's quiet, it's on purpose. he wants you and him to listen to the obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh that floods the bedroom walls. your favorite thing??? it has to be when jake is slamming into you from behind, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing your head back with his mouth a hair's breath away from your ear. in a low mutter, he tells you in spanish how you're his— and only, his. and you believe that.

✨ thirsty talk weekend ✨

[muses-of-the-mind]

Pleas Of Poison

It had been almost two weeks since the incident.

At first, Hero was too embarrassed to think about it, flushing red whenever their thoughts went too astray from the memory. But when they were alone in the middle of the night and boredom clutched at their head, their mind whirled with dangerous questions and possibilities about that night.

Why did Villain’s blood attract them more than others?

Why couldn’t they breathe around Villain’s scent?

But most importantly, why would Villain allow them, seem almost inviting for Hero to feast on them? Could it have been more than their mind games, maybe something intimate?

The last question had scared Hero more than they’d liked to admit but now, when they were standing pounding on the villain’s door, gripping the porch to steady their blurring vision, they knew exactly what the answer was.

“I’ve already bought enough of your scout cookies, go bother the next do—“ Villain’s bored voice came to an abrupt end when Hero’s fist collided with their face. Hard.

Villain stumbled back, clutching at their bloody nose. Surprise and confusion flashed in their eyes when they saw the hero.

“Villain, you bastard! I trusted you and you had the audacity to betray me?”

“Hero?” They were still reeling from the punch, and now the shock of hero finding out their lair and their bizarre words.

“Oh, don’t play dumb, Villain. I knew you would never willingly let me drink your blood. And to think I was so stupid to fall for it.”

Understanding clicked into the Villain’s brain and they began to laugh. Maniacal, weirdly high pitched laughter spilled out of their mouth while Hero fumed red with anger and embarrassment.

Villain’s laughter only stopped when they were out of breath and gasping, “Okay, that’s probably enough.” A smug grin lingered on their bloody face however, “I didn’t think it would actually work.”

“Do you think,” Hero paused, a harsh cough wracking their body, “this is funny?”

“Oh extremely. And immeasurably clever too.”

“To poison your blood just so I would drink it?”

“And therefore poison yourself.” Villain corrected.

“That makes no sense! You end up killing yourself too, you buffoon.”

“Oh, my sweet Hero,” Villain grinned, “do you really think I wouldn’t be prepared?”

They slipped out a small vial of something from their robe’s pockets.

“It took a while and I’m still healing but when you invent the poison,“ they rolled the vial in their palm, “you kind of invent the antidote too.”

Hero’s vision narrowed onto the vial. They lunged at the villain but Villain gracefully stepped out of the way, their laughter ringing in Hero’s ears.

Hero prepared to strike again but their weakened body faltered, black spots dancing across their vision. Their breathing came in uneven gasps and bloody coughs and their knees buckled under their weight.

“So weak. Your pathetic self almost makes me feel sorry.” They mock sighed, “You know what, maybe I will give you the cure.”

They held their palm out slightly out of Hero’s reach. Hero was skeptical to say the least but their fingers still clawed towards the vial.

Villain, as expected, closed their first at the last second and smiled, “If you beg.”

Hero blinked, “What?”

“Pretending only gives me more joy.” Their smile widened, “Beg for me and I will give you the cure.”

“I’m not doing that.”

Villain shrugged, moving to slip the vial into their pocket, “If you so desperately desire to die, it’s your wish. Better say your goodbyes to your grandchildren right now. Oh and don’t forget to include me in your will.”

A frail hand grabbed their wrist.

Hero shut their eyes for a brief second, cursing the gods and everything above, “I’ll do it.”

“I believe the words are “Oh please, evil and magnificent Villain, give me the antidote.”

They took a deep breath before glaring at Villain. “Please give me the antidote,” they grinded out.

“Oh come on Hero. I know you can be sweet. Use some of that lovely charm you had when you sucked my blood in the alleyway.”

“I beg you, give me the antidote.”

Villain tsked, “It would be better without that murderous look in your eyes.” Their eyes roamed Hero’s figure, “and on your knees.”

Hero would be objecting within a second but another violent cough and they were reminded that their life was at stake here. (Hehe stake)

Eyes downcast and resisting the urge to drink every ounce of Villain’s blood and suck them dry, Hero’s knees quietly met the floor of Villain’s porch.

“I can’t hear you.”

Right.

Villain’s hand came to caress their jaw, thumb roving over Hero’s neck.

Hero cleared their throat, “Please, my darling Villain, give me the antidote.”

A sound of surprise escapes the villain’s lips but they quickly covered it up with their stupid smile, “As per your wish, beloved.”

Their thumb roams the hero’s lips and before they know it, Villain’s already opened their mouth and poured the sweet liquid down their throat.

“Oops, missed some.” Villain’s finger wipes the conveniently fallen cure from their lips.

The blushing hero stumbled up from their humiliating position, holding on to Villain’s shirt for balance, “Thank you for the gift. Since you were oh so generous, I feel it is only fair for me to return the favour.”

Villain caught the malicious glint in Hero’s eyes a bit too late, “Oh no, it’s completely fi-“

Poor Villain had to invent another antidote for two broken noses in one day.

[nautiscarader]

Zalissa 29

(Ao3)

Melissa loved listening to Zack sweet moans and groans when they were making love. To hear his cries and roars as she rode his cock, or muffled praises when she was on his face… But only when she heard his dominant, decisive voice she realised she was falling in love all over again.

"On your knees".

And with that, her knees automatically got weaker, sending her to the carpeted floor, while her boyfriend towered over her, giving her more commands.

"Undo my jeans."

She didn't have to be asked. Her hands were already on his crotch, proudly showing the bulge inside she desperately wanted to get to. And a frantic moment later, she got her wish, laying her eyes on his cock, its twitching head shining from pre-cum.

Melissa opened her mouth, but then a strange new sensation hit her, and told her to look up at her imposing boyfriend, and wait for his permission.

"Suck it."

Melissa closed her lips around his cock, and at once her sense of taste and smell were overwhelmed with potent fragrances and flavours, which brought her back to where this afternoon started…

Because just fifteen minutes earlier, she definitely was in control of her date, as the two youngsters cuddled on the sofa, getting just a little handsy as Melissa decided to move from sofa to his laps.

Zack's eyes widened as Melissa was getting more and comfortable in his crotch, gently proding the hem of his shirt, waiting for a moment to strike.

"Mel, this is my mom's couch. I don't-don't wan t to mess it up…", he stuttered as he felt her hand sneaking onto his chest.

"It's okay, you can do it inside if you are brave enough…"

"Mel, that's not what-"

"What, didn't you say that from now on you will try to be take things in your hands?" she smiled cockily, gently moving her hips against his crotch. "Well, I am your thing, I'm just waiting for the hands…".

It has been quite a while since their life-changing trip to outer space which ended with Zsck's proclamation of his promise of stepping up his decisiveness. And their first kiss, of course.

And she still loved him deeply, even if very little changed on the homefront - she still was wearing the pants in this relationship, and was deciding when to take them off.

This is why Melissa let out a shriek when she felt his hands on her ass as the world around her suddenly change orientation. Next thing she knew she was lying underneath him, his lips on hers, at least until he took his shirt off, exposing his chest.

"So, you're my thing, huh?", he asked, looking at her trying to comprehend the situation, breathing heavily.

"Yes…", she answered sheepishly, feeling her heart racing.

"Well then… get on your knees."

And that is how Melissa got to her current position, with Zack's hand in her hair, encouraging her to go deeper and deeper with every pass, as her tongue coiled around his cock, gathering more of his potent flavour and fragrance. But it was his towering presence that truly amplified Melissa's excitement, evident by her hand in her already wet panties, toying with her pussy and clit as her boyfriend controlled her oral skills.

Every few seconds their eyes would meet, and she would find a new spark in them, one of dominance and power. Or maybe it were just her eyes, watering as Zack's manhood pushed further and further, the moves of his his becoming less and less subtle.

Melissa would often close her eyes, losing contact with him, but gaining more of the unexpected, her other senses amplifying the experience of her tastebuds, promising a flood of sticky, salty, rich cum soon.

"I'm-I'm close…",. he suddenly uttered, his voice barely broking under oncoming climax of his.

Melissa looked at him as if she wanted to say something, but he finished her thoughts for her.

"And I'm gonna cum inside that pretty mouth of yours.", his finger slid across her cheek, causing her to shiver in anticipation. She could only mumble something, which sounded very much like a plea…

"And you will drink all of it. D-Don' t you spill a drop…"

His head moved to the back of her head as she no longer was in charge of the fellatio that became a facefuck, while he pressed her against the wall. Melissa was taking strategic breaths, her eyes growing wide when she smelled more and more of him, his words painting visions of the future.

"N-Next time I will cum all over your face… and hair… Maybe you will even take a selfie or two ."

Melissa moaned around his cock's head as her body trembled and her thighs shook, the result of her powerful climax, brought not only by his action, but his words painting vivid imagery of his dominance. And when she looked at him again, she was begging for it, silently, with her desperate needy eyes - and he gladly delivered.

Zack let out a roar when his cock pulsed in Melissa's mouth, sending first wave of thick seed. He wanted to do it right into her throat, making her lips meet his balls, but then he retracted, watching as her eyes bulge out and her lips tighten, desperate to fulfil his command. And not a drop of seed has been lost, not after second, third or fourth hefty stream…

Instead, Melissa deal t with the seemingly never-ending batch of baby-making batter Zack was flooding her with, t he room filled with deep, guttural sounds of her swallowing his cum, revelling in its potent taste and smell, a true delicacy she'd never let escape her mouth.

Zack's grip on her head turned into gentle pats and strokes as he watched and listened how his red-head drinks him dry, and only when she w as sure her tongue has coiled enough times around his head to wipe it clean she let go of him proudly presenting her empty mouth, patting her tummy.

"G-goog girl…", Zack muttered, but almost at once has his cocky demeanour changed as he raised his eyebrow n in sign of concern and knelt down. "Okay, was it too much? I had no idea if-"

His voice was broken when Melissa's lips met his in a long, soothing kiss that should have answered his question.

"Dude, that was top-notch. I like that new Zack…"

His cheeks turned red as he continued stroking her hair, until she stood up, looking down at him.

"In fact, I might let you really cum inside me."

Zack's eyes opened wide.

"No, wait, we gotta do it safely, my mom wants grandkids, but not now.", he raised his hands.

"And there it is, my sweet, caring boyfriend.", she giggled and kissed him, "Let's go to the bathroom, we can continue there… and we can flush all the evidence down the drain."

She grabbed his hand and made the decision for him, already waiting to see how that selfie of hers with his cum all over her face will look like.

[reginrokkr]

moonichor asked: “  the stars do not tell you where to go, only how to get there ”

Luminescent flowers glow brighter with every slow step, bright blue illuminating and cutting through the darkness to reveal a path further on the north— a beckoning not to fear obscurity with the promise of a protection that has always been cradling Dáinsleif to safety. Once upon a time he firmly believed that the acquisition of Ley Line scars on a significant portion of his body was one more penitence to suffer for the sins he committed —he did not—. How could he forget the agonizing feeling that all the monsters within him born from the corruption that took over him sought naught but to crawl out of his skin? Even five centuries later, that sentiment persists to this day.

Ley Line veins visible at plain sight react with the flowers and glow in synchrony with every beat of his heart, flora increasing in number the further the man advances towards his destination. Alas, it was far from yet another curse cast upon his disgraced existence— it was a blessing, a chance for a new opportunity to be reborn in life, a plea not to give up for even if the gods may not recognize his valiant efforts to make of this world a better place, it does.

As if patiently awaiting for him does the silver tree reveal itself in all its splendor, basking under the moonlight that seemingly adores it so. Moon and tree inseparable as two fated lovers, yet perpetually cursed by distance, death and grief. Every Ley Line covering Irminsul glows in response to his arrival and so do the ones that cover his body, which causes a wave of warmth like one mother would offer to her child. This warmth— this warmth lulled him every single time back into Morpheus’ arms whenever Dáinsleif’s mind was plunged into despair and sorrow with vivid dreams of a past he is condemned to relive one time after another.

If there is something that helped me go through the heartache of loneliness, that is you.

Unhurriedly does Dáinsleif close all remaining distance between him and Irminsul, right hand touching its pristine trunk in a slow and gentle caress seconds before pressing his forehead against it, moonlight kissed eyelids fluttering close. ❝I have returned.❞ As if sentient and aware of his voice does Irminsul respond with a beat of its glow, sending a welcoming warmth to its dear and accidental companion for centuries bygone— this was but a small welcome back ritual whenever Dáinsleif deigned to descend to the very core of this world and pay a visit, an unnecessary action per se when he can establish a contact with it through his dreams as one more extension of this lonely tree.

An unusual increase in moonlight’s brightness that makes Irminsul completely white with strikes of blue that adorn it beautifully so catches Dáinsleif’s attention in a phenomenon that preluded the sound of a delicate voice echoing in this lone and hidden Eden.

❝The stars do not tell you where to go, only how to get there.❞

For the briefest of moments, azure irises register the presence of flowing hair, a visage and a feminine-like body within its light. An angel descending from the hall of angels? Or perhaps— It mattered not what the source of the voice is, for in the blink of an eye it faded as fast as it revealed itself to him. ❝Even though stars are a faux construct of the gods?❞ He questions in a calm voice, expecting no answer to be given in turn as it has always been whenever an inquiry materialized within his mind, in no different manner than a child would despite carrying the weight of five centuries on his back. For even if he has knowledge at his disposition and hovering at the tips of his fingers, there are still so many questions that he only manages to conclude himself with a comprehensive analysis of everything he was given.

Roseate lips curl in a ghost of a smile that has long been forgotten how to born anew on porcelain features, hand slipping to his side from the trunk as cyan gaze lingers to the full moon above. ❝I know. And I will not rest until I find that place— where all sins begin and shall not spread further to the core of this world.❞

[omiscurls]

hi!! could i request a diluc x fem!reader angst where they were childhood friends, and when reader gets a fiancé, diluc tries to confess his feelings but reader rejects him, gets married and moves from mondstat, and every now and then diluc sends reader letters (apologizing, asking how readers day was, hoping they come back). thanks!

unrequited

plot: reader rejects the character

contains: diluc

warnings: angsty and like one curse word, that’s all

diluc was a cute kid.

as the heir to one of the most wealthy and powerful families in mondstadt, he was polite not only to his senior, but also incredibly nice to his friends, as well. different that most boys his age, he didn’t go around yelling dumb, inappropriate jokes, and didn’t take pride in making girls feel bad.

he was always sweet to those doing worse than him in class, be it theory or sparring, and acted like an absolute saint to his adopted brother.

naturally, how could one not adore a kid like that? how could the mondstadt girls not line up to see him each time, how could the boys not want to play with him? how could anyone resist, when he had that charm to him that seemed to draw people near almost against their free will?

finally, how could you not take pride in the fact that out of all those over-the-top girls who fought over each other to talk to him, out of all those boys that never failed to bug him in each little scrap of his free time, he chose to try and get close to you?

you didn’t understand it at first, but it seemed like he genuinely wanted to know you, his eyes looking as though they were studying your expression at all times, a warm smile welcoming you each time you passed him by.

his words were careful and his sentences always strained, as if he struggled to talk, but a sense of honesty and genuine sympathy always seeped through his words, confusing your little childish brain, but also forming a warm and fuzzy feeling inside your chest. 

over the years, not only did you finally answer to his advances, but also befriend the kid. his rare smiles were reserved for your eyes only, and his mind opened up before you each and every time you talked, no restrain and limitations between you two. 

he’d sit behind you in class, sometimes passing you notes with an answer to questions you didn’t know, or a funny note about the teacher, or just simply asking if you want to hang out after school. 

you’d go to windrise and sit under the tree, talking for hours about the most useless of things, about what you thought the clouds looked like, but also your futures, your dreams and hopes. 

he’d explain math to you before every exam in the dark rooms of dawn winery, hair pulled up and tea made for the both of you, looking at your struggling with unmistakable patience and affection, but what could you know? you were kids, barely even teenagers. why would you think anything of the way he said he’ll “always be there for you” after some simple math tutoring? how could you analyze his kind stare that you never saw him wear for other people? 

and so you didn’t. 

he’d sit with you on the counter of his kitchen, carefully caressing your back as you wet his shirt with tears, quietly telling you that “they didn’t deserve you anyway” after your first ever heartbreak. to hell with the fact that his own heart was breaking a millimetre more with every word he spoke, if what he said calmed you in any way, he’d talk all night, going on and on about how you deserve the world, and nothing less. 

you held his hand at his fathers memorial service, letting him tighten his grip on your fingers harder every time, you wiped away the tears, you listen to his sobs and pleas when the two of you were alone. you offered solace to him over the next painful months, you justified every word he hurt kaeya with, only to make him feel better about himself. 

to him, you were like an angel sent from above. you restored the faith he had lost in the world, you stuck by his side and lighted up his days one after the other, how could he not adore you?

how could he not fall in love? 

and trust when i say, he did really try to avoid it. he tried pushing his thoughts away, he tried focusing on something else, tried avoiding you, tried everything. no matter what he did, his mind circled back to your smile, and unconsciously he smiled as well, even if the next second he’d look in the mirror and wipe it off his face as if it was a crime to smile. 

diluc was a cute kid, and he grew up to be a polite gentleman, whom you called a friend. and as any polite gentleman, he wouldn’t dare do anything to loose the honor you had given him, so he stayed silent. stayed silent since his in-class notes, through talks about the future, through your breakups, through all the times you had been there for him. in no universe would he ever mention how the weight was lifted off his shoulders every time you as much as looked his way, how all the clouds went away at the sound of your laugh, and how he was ready to do anything in the world to keep you happy. 

somewhere in his mind, perhaps he thought you had somehow known all along, and would reward his efforts to not complicate your life with his emotions with loving him back, but how could you know? how, if he kept it a secret that well? 

in the end, his own plan backfired on him, and he realized he had lost when you ran through his door, tears in your eyes, but a smile on your face, showing off a ring, shining in sunlight, resting on your finger.

if he ever thought “they didn’t deserve you” hurt him, “i’m so happy for you!” stabbed his soul a thousand times more painfully. 

to normal people of mondstadt, there was no change in behavior from the gloomy and serious owner of angel’s share, but a few noticed how heavy his presence was, how desperately he blinked back the sheen layer of tears, glistening in the candle light while he was serving drinks, and you were off somewhere in the back, laughing with your lover by your side. 

he had lost his chance, and now there was no way in which he could get you back. no way at all. all his life, he had built up a hope inside that one of these days, he’ll get a happy ever after, and lived with that thought through all the bad moments that came along the way, and now these years of carefully building this scenario came crushing down with the realization. 

in a desperate search of any relief, he came to the conclusion that the only thing to be even remotely at peace with himself was to... simply just tell you. 

so there he was, right outside your door, the watch on his wrist striking ten in the evening, stars shining brightly on your doorstep, as you appeared before him, merely a nightgown shielding you from the cold air of the night, a soft smile adoring your lips from the moment you realized it was him. 

“diluc? what’re you doing here this late?” you said, grabbing a coat from behind the door and closing it behind you. a foolish hope sprung inside him when you joined him outside, as he stared at you with a little grin, working up the courage to speak up. 

“there’s something i wish to tell you about” he merely whispered, gesturing you to come with him.

the walk to windrise was longer than the ones you remembered from your childhood days, and the sharp air nibbled on your skin mercilessly, to the point your legs hurt a bit when you reached the tree.

diluc turned your way and spoke for the first time in what felt like forever, but was thirty minutes.

“i hoped not to burden you with the secret i’ll share with you now, and i’m sorry for whatever bad outcome it might cause, but… truth is, i can’t keep it to myself anymore, and if i want to have some peace for myself, i have to trouble you with it.” he said quietly, settling worry in your gut.

“you can tell me anything” you assured calmly “your secrets are always safe with me”

he took one last look into your caring eyes, feeling a little better just having you smile at him, and took a breath before spilling.

“i might’ve been in love with you for the last ten years” he said calmly “and i know this is hardly the time, i really do, but i just-“

“what?”

you looked at him in surprise, blood audibly pumping through your veins as you tried to comprehend what he just said.

“i do understand that you’re engaged, but-“

“do you? do you, really?” you said bitterly, making his heart sink in regret. “because to me it seems like i waited for you all those years, i hoped, and i prayed, and i wished, and after i finally, finally gave up, you decide to mess with my emotions right when i thought i had them figured out?”

diluc was stunned. so you felt the same way about him, once? he could’ve had all he hoped for? he didn’t even comprehend the rest of your sentence fully, focusing on how you just admitted to having feelings for him somewhen in the past.

“no, i’m not trying to mess with you, I’m-“

“but you are! honestly, diluc, i knew you were somewhat insensitive, but this is blatantly cruel! what- i don’t- why didn’t you say this to me earlier?”

“i wish i did, but to me it seemed like you were always chasing someone else, and i didn’t want to-“

“bother me? is that it? you didn’t want to bother me so now you decided to try and mess with my relationship? god, i- i need to be alone right now. sorry.”

and with that you were out of your usual childhood spot, leaving him alone under the tree that shared both of your secrets and plans for so long.

a longing stare pierced through your back as you ran back to mondstadt, not going home right away, but trying to find a spot where nobody would find you.

“fuck” he muttered. he was familiar with the feeling of loss, but the fact that it was nobody’s fault but his own made it a hundred times worse.

diluc was a cute child, and grew up to be a polite gentleman. so he was there to apologize to you on countless occasions, ready to beg forgiveness for his recklessness and lack of thought, but you were never there to hear his pleas.

and so it went on, a huge wedding covered the streets of mondstadt in white while he stood in the sidelines, his friends said goodbye to you as he watched from a safe distance. you left, and so did every remaining proof of his embarrassment.

nevertheless, he sent countless letters, no address on the envelope, save for the name of the city, hoping that one of them would eventually reach you. sorrow and tears almost spilled from the words written in a tidy cursive, but he never had any certainty about wether they reached you or not.

and while he hoped you forgave him,

he knew you didn’t.

[fruitcoops]

would you potentially write sirius wearing remus’ jersey? 👀 (i love your writing btw!!)

I sure can! I really hope Haz writes this in Vaincre, but for now, this is my take on it. Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for smut and mild overstimulation

Remus heard footsteps approach from the hall and closed his eyes with a sigh. Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it—

“Y’know, I don’t think Earth should qualify as a planet.”

“Fuck you,” he fired back, though it came out as little more than an incomprehensible slur around the hunk of plastic in his mouth.

“Really, I do,” Sirius continued. Remus took a deep breath through his nose and did his goddamn best not to bite through the still-soft mouthguard as it molded to his teeth. “Other planets don’t have life on them. We’re the only one. That makes us an outlier.”

“As soon as this thing comes out, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Kinky. Anyway, have I told you about that article I read that talked about the moon landing?” Through the blood pounding in his ears, Remus heard the clink of a water glass being taken down from the cupboard. “Turns out the whole thing is a hoax.”

Remus dug his phone out of his pants and furiously typed out a message, cursing every higher power that he got stuck with that idiot as his husband. Damn you for being pretty. “Read,” he ordered, closing his eyes and holding it over his shoulder.

“I’m illiterate.”

“I detest you.”

“What was that? Sorry, I’m having some trouble understanding you.”

“Sirius fucking Black—”

Remus’ mumbled retaliation cut off abruptly with a soft huh as he whipped around, and his jaw fell open. Sirius smiled, easy as you please, leaning his elbows on the counter. “Yes?”

“Oh, fuck,” Remus whimpered around his mouthguard. A sly grin curled the edges of Sirius’ perfect lips upward; he quirked an eyebrow and turned in a slow circle.

“Fits better than I thought it would,” he remarked as Remus whined, desperately checking the timer on his phone. Two minutes and seventeen seconds. Shit. The golden number 6 on the back caught the light of their kitchen like a beacon—a sexy, sexy beacon that beckoned toward every atom in Remus’ body while he tried not to drool on himself. “Mine was a bit big on you, non?”

“Baby, c’mon. C’mon, don’t do this.”

“Should I take it off?”

“No!” Remus blurted, nearly spitting the mouthguard out in his hurry. Sirius shot him a teasing look and sauntered over, then braced his hands—his fucking hands, Remus was so gone for that irritating bastard—on the back of the couch and leaned over until their noses nearly touched.

“What?” he asked, quiet and yet low as thunder. “Cat got your tongue, Loops?”

Remus couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sharp peak of his collarbone beneath a drape of red-and-gold fabric; he couldn’t wait to get his teeth on it. His hands only shook a little as he reached up and rolled the hem between his fingertips, sliding his palms up to the strong planes of Sirius’ chest, hidden by his jersey. A meteor could strike the earth, and Remus would die happy for having seen his name and number emblazoned on the most beautiful man alive.

“Are you going to take it off?”

Remus shook his head without looking up and skimmed a thumb over Sirius’ nipple, feeling a thrill race through him when his breath caught. “Gotcha.”

“Bummer about the mouthguard,” Sirius panted. “If you didn’t leave it to the last second, you could already have that pretty mouth on me.”

As if on cue, the timer went off. Sirius’ face went slack in surprise. Remus grinned, and carefully popped the mouthguard out, laying it in its case before yanking Sirius into his lap. “You were saying?”

“I will admit, I thought that would take longer to set.”

“So you decided to torture me?” Remus guided him down to his neck and felt Sirius shudder.

“I always torture you on mouthguard Fridays.”

He hummed, opening a new package as quietly as he could. “I think I found a solution.”

“Seeing me in your jersey?”

“No. This.” Ignoring the confused noise Sirius made when he leaned back, he slid the new mouthguard mold between his teeth with a sugar-sweet smile, making sure to highlight his dimple. “You look gorgeous. You’ll be sorry for it, though.”

Sirius’ brows pitched and he mumbled a word that might have been ‘kisses’ if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied.

“You’ll get kisses eventually. That thing’ll be done in ten minutes, and it better be perfect.”

Without giving him a chance to appeal his case, Remus pushed him flat onto the couch, set the timer, and settled between his thighs with a tight grip on his narrow hips. The first touch of his tongue to the outline of Sirius’ dick drew a deep groan from him; he saw Sirius’ next tighten and reached up to grab him by the jaw.

“What did I say?” he asked patiently as Sirius squirmed under him. The tension released, and he smiled, placing a kiss to the side of his mouth as he rubbed his palm along Sirius’ shaft. “Je t’ai, mon amour. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

In a moment of shocking foresight (which Remus was eternally grateful for), Sirius had chosen to wander about in just the jersey and his underwear. The fabric was already sticky when his breath fanned hot over it—Sirius closed his eyes with a soft sound and reached back for the armrest.

“Harlot,” Remus teased as he ran his hand along his inner thighs. Sirius huffed a laugh, but it quickly transformed into a moan as Remus pulled his boxers away and took as much of him into his mouth as he could.

“Oh, god,” Sirius said, clearly winded as one knee knocking against Remus’ ribs while his lower back arched. “Please, please, ngh—”

Remus pulled away with a sigh and took his jaw again, giving it a little shake. “Sirius. Don’t clench your teeth.”

A shaky sound slipped through; he stared up at Remus in a silent plea, but managed to relax.

“You have eight minutes left.” Remus rubbed his thumb in small circles over the head of his dick and watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Count if you want, but that should be good enough for you to wear.”

Sirius nodded, his breaths coming harder as if he had just run a race. Under his palm, Remus could feel his heartbeat pounding in his broad chest—he smoothed the jersey down, then scooted back to resume pulling Sirius apart thread by thread. He had felt that exact fabric almost every day for months and rarely found anything attractive about it, but on Sirius it was astonishing how fast his whole body lit up in response. He wanted to see him wear it and nothing else.

He pulled off with a soft laugh when Sirius put his forearm over his mouth. His thighs were trembling on either side of Remus. “Oh, baby, is that hard for you?”

A keening noise was his only response.

Remus kept a tight grip on the base of his shaft, sliding his thumb along the underside as he swallowed Sirius down and nipped kisses along his sensitive hips. “Relax, I’ll take care of you.”

He grinned to himself as a shudder rocked through Sirius’ whole body and more precome dripped over his lower lip. The clock on his phone read three minutes. Plenty of time to take him apart, Remus thought, slipping two fingers into Sirius’ mouth to stop him from biting down. He made a muffled noise of protest, but it was weak, and within moments he was putty once again.

“I don’t think it really matters which skate you put on first,” he said casually, bracing an arm over Sirius’ lower belly as his hips jerked. “And at the end of the day, superstitions are bullshit.”

Sirius’ eyes flared open in disbelief; he tried to retort, but the mouthguard and Remus’ fingers made him incomprehensible.

“Sorry, I’m having some trouble understanding you,” Remus mimicked. Sirius’ chest buzzed with an angry sound, but he just smiled and licked a long stripe up his length, laving his tongue against the spot just beneath the head. “And you know what?”

“Hmm?” Sirius managed, clearly frustrated as his hands flexed.

Remus pulled back and leaned over him. The contrast between the warm colors of his jersey and the quicksilver of Sirius’ eyes drove him wild, and he closed his eyes as he bent down until his lips just brushed the shell of Sirius’ ear. “Sometimes, if it was a really long day and I was tired and ready to go home…”

Sirius made a questioning noise and Remus bit down on the hinge of his jaw.

“I would sharpen your right skate before your left.”

Sirius froze. Remus sat back up with a smug look and took his thoroughly slicked fingers out; from the expression on Sirius’ face, he may as well have told him he burned down the rink. The slack-jawed horror dissolved into pure indignance in half a second. “You mother—”

For the second time in about fifteen seconds, Sirius was lost for words. He replaced them with a yelp that Remus prayed the neighbors wouldn’t hear, rolling his hips back onto the finger that crooked upward in a practiced movement. The mouthguard may have muffled his words, but it did nothing to stop him from moaning.

Remus redoubled his efforts as the clock ticked down the final minute—he had plans for later, but they would only work if Sirius was properly handled first. He finally fell silent, reduced to gasping and writhing as Remus worked two fingers inside of him and kept up so much suction his own jaw was beginning to ache. Finally, with a desperate little sound and a harsh grip on the couch cushion, Sirius shook to pieces, his stomach jolting as Remus stroked the underside of his thigh in soothing motions.

The timer went off a few seconds later, and he carefully pulled the plastic out of Sirius’ mouth. There were a few dents from his lower teeth and the back was decently mangled, but overall…

“Huh. Not bad,” he said, setting it on the coffee table. Sirius blinked slowly at him, his mouth still open and his pupils blown wide as he tried to catch his breath. “Alright, up.”

Sirius silently shook his head, never taking his eyes off Remus’ face.

“Yep, c’mon. You’re still wearing my jersey, and I need to thank you for it.”

A quiet puff of air left his lungs as his dick twitched. “I c—I can’t.”

Remus sighed through his nose and stood, then hoisted Sirius into a bridal hold and headed toward the stairs. “It’s a good thing I’m strong enough to do this, or else you’d have to get yourself upstairs all by yourself.”

“Re?”

He maneuvered so Sirius’ feet wouldn’t smack into the banister and smiled when a kiss brushed against his cheekbone. “Yes?”

“You were kidding about the skate thing, right?”

“Depends.” He nudged the bedroom door open with his hip. “Were you kidding about the moon?”

Sirius’ shoulders shook with laughter as Remus set him down on the bed and settled on top of him, bracketing his face and waist. His hands were warm and broad on his cheeks, pulling him down for a kiss at long last. Remus hummed into it; his insides turned to happy mush, and he began running his palms along the outside of Sirius’ bare thighs.

“You look fucking amazing in my jersey, love,” he murmured.

“I know.”

“Cocky bastard.”

“You say that like you didn’t already know.”

Remus kissed the smile off his face, lacing their fingers and pressing them down over Sirius’ head—he stretched his back like a contented cat before shifting until he was comfortable. “I still think about that night, you know.”

“Well, yeah, we won the Cup.”

“I think about the way you let me push you against the door,” he continued, paying Sirius no attention as he mapped each curve and angle of his neck. After over a year of practice, he knew the best spots by heart. “And the way you looked at me when you saw what I was wearing. And when you held me like you were going to break if I stopped moving. I wish you could’ve seen your face when I begged you to let me come again. Remember that?”

The room was quiet for a moment, save for Sirius’ shallow breaths and the rustle of the sheets as he squirmed.

Remus pulled back from his neck and ran a thumb over his wet lower lip. “Hey. Answer me.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Sirius said on the tail end of a slow exhale. “Fuck. You can’t just say things like that.”

“You kept your hand right here,” he said, pressing down on Sirius’ chest with just enough force to feel his lungs hitch. “I might not have a badge, but I’ll figure something out. I think I understand why you like it when I wear yours so much.”

“Every time you wear it, we fuck, and it’s always mind-blowing. There’s no way I’ll be able to see it on you outside of bed.”

“I have the sneaking suspicion we’re on the same page with that.” He took the backs of Sirius’ knees in his hands and pushed until they almost touched his chest. “Hold.”

Through the grace of God, the lube was easy to find. Remus really didn’t know what he would have done if it wasn’t—he might have been confident on the outside, but his fine motor skills were sorely lacking and his brain was playing a loop of sexy boyfriend jersey sexy boyfriend jersey that he couldn’t even dream of stopping. Sirius made a series of cut-off keening noises as he opened him up, and Remus wanted to memorize the look on his face.

“Deep breaths, baby,” he soothed, resting a hand over Sirius’ heart when his legs began to shake. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Oh, god,” Sirius choked out, leaning his head back into the pillows. “Re, please—”

“Shh.” Remus moved his free hand up to hold one index finger over Sirius’ lips while the other pushed and pressed inside of him, skimming over his prostate in a random pattern that drew harsh exhales each time.

“I can’t,” Sirius whined. “Mon amour, I can’t.”

“You don’t need to do anything but hold.” Small white spots were appearing on Sirius’ knuckles as he clutched at his thighs; his dick was already starting to drip again. Remus slid into him and stifled a moan into his own shoulder, though he really didn’t have to worry—Sirius’ short cry would have covered any other sound easily. “There you go, nice and easy.”

Sirius blubbered out a string of incoherent words as Remus began to move and the mattress began to creak, but he was far too preoccupied with the way his jersey shone in the light of their bedroom and stood stark against the sheets in a blaze of red. Sirius’ smooth skin, so warm and flushed under his touch, blended almost seamlessly with the golden edges until Remus couldn’t think to do anything but lean down and kiss him. He responded eagerly, craning his neck for a better angle and pulling Remus’ lower lip between his teeth with a breathless moan. Once, he tried to let go of his leg and bring him closer, but Remus calmly took his hand and guided it back to the proper place without breaking stride.

“I need—I need—mon dieu, merde—need you, please,” Sirius panted, squeezing his eyes shut with a wavering moan.

“Je t’ai,” Remus repeated as he sucked a mark on the junction of his neck. Sirius’ whole left side went limp at the feeling. “I’ve got you. Christ, Sirius, you look incredible.”

A gasp left his kiss-swollen lips as he looked up at Remus. “I don’t think I can come again, Re, please—”

“You can. Color?”

“Vert, green, but—” He bit down on his lower lip as Remus held his waist in a firm grip. “I really don’t think I can.”

“I think you can,” Remus said, combing his fingers through the top of Sirius’ hair and giving it a tug. His whole abdomen tightened and his knees knocked together; it took Remus several seconds to get his breath back to the point where he wasn’t about to come on the spot. “I’m taking care of you right now, remember? If I say you can, you can.”

Sirius’ gaze was bright and untethered as he gulped—Remus gave his hair another pull, harder, and he shivered. More precome painted his stomach and darkened the hem of the jersey. His vocabulary seemed to be reduced to oh, fuck on repeat, growing slightly higher in pitch each time until he was just whimpering. “Re—Re, now—”

Remus caught his mouth in a slow, gentle kiss and wrapped a hand around him, not changing his pace until Sirius crumbled into a puddle of bliss and his shins connected with Remus’ ribs. He buried his face in Sirius’ sweaty neck with a sharp gasp and followed him over the edge mere moments later; he didn’t even try to catch himself as his knees slipped on the sheets and brought him down to lay across Sirius’ chest.

For a few seconds, all he could hear was their breaths and heartbeats. Part of him was tempted to doze off right there, but he rallied the last of his energy and peeled Sirius’ hands off his legs, pulling them down and out so they wouldn’t cramp. Sirius was staring at the ceiling in a daze; the jersey was rumpled and rucked up around his ribs, and Remus slid that down as well.

“Baby?” he said, kissing each of his cheeks. “Are you okay?”

“What?” Sirius’ voice cracked and he bit back a laugh.

“Ça va?”

“Mmm. Très bien.” His arms were little more than noodles as he wrapped them around Remus’ shoulders.

“Come on,” he said after a bit, disentangling himself despite Sirius’ grumbling. “You did so well, but we still have to clean up. You can be the little spoon, if you give me a hand.”

“You’ll have to carry me.”

“No,” Remus laughed. “I barely hold myself up, are you kidding?”

Sirius cracked one sleepy eye open, then narrowed it. “Depends. Were you kidding about my skates?”

[yandere-wishes]

MONSTERS

👹 Yandere Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

👹Summary: Monsters aren’t born they're made, but Sukuna stumbles across the rare exception...

👹Warning: dehumanization, mention of gore, blood, slight dub-con mentioned in passing, death, past trauma, and abuse

👹 Edited: By the lovely @tealyjade-libran !

👹 Wordcount: 2,480

👹Alternative Tittle : If Roxanne ( from the Police song) lived in ancient Japan.

👹First Jujutsu kaisen fic! I hope you guys like it, please let me know your thoughts! Likes and reblogs appreciated!

Monsters were made. 

Slowly created as once blazing ideals, withered and died under harsh strokes of reality. Stitched together with broken promises and the ashes of rotting memories. 

Monsters were made

whisked into a role they once dreaded, once feared. Beaten into the role of the villain, the reprobate, the sinner. 

If anyone ever asked Sukuna when was the exact moment he turned his back on the laws of "good" and "evil", shedding his human skin to regrow a pelt of hate and destruction,

He would simply answer, "Never".

Because skin is skin no matter how much it decays. Even if the epidermis turns into a rotting orange shade, littered with eyeballs and teeth that shouldn't grow there.Even if the blood from all those he's slain has finally stained his dermis, tainting it in a permanent crimson that all the waters of Lake Biwa could never wash off. Even if his hypodermis is no longer made of fatty tissue but rather spiritual energy sucked from the atmosphere. It's still skin, the same old skin he was born with.

Sukuna had never shed his skin, he'd only perfected it, enhanced it, molded it into its perfect form, until he was no longer held back by foolish human limitations.

He'd never been "reborn" only recreated; only perfected. 

Spike, talon and teeth covered arms sprouting from oozing, bleeding scars, charred over by begriming infections that burned worse than the strikes he'd endured as a child. Knuckles and bones cracking over and over and over again until they grew as solid as the rocks that were thrown at him when he was all too little to understand the malice behind the insults and threats. Breaking until they could break no more, until they'd become strong enough to split a boulder with a mere flick.

There had come a time when he'd given up licking his wounds, leaving them to be kissed by the mold-covered worms who left an urticating sensation he'd soon come to associate with victory. Rotting flesh growing covered in thick layers of black tar tattoos that hid every cut he'd endured when he'd once been too weak. 

Monsters were created from quarter truths buried neck-deep in fables that snipped like red-eyed scorpions. 

Until the blood dancing through their veins was as black as the void they now called home. 

Sukuna knew the exact moment he realized he was a monster. The day he realized he liked the crunch of skulls beneath his feet, the pitiful spark in mortified eyes staring at the heavens for a scrap of mercy. Mangled mouths barely held together by fractured jaw bones, uttering prayers and pleas that died in the scorching air. 

Sukuna knew he was an abnormality, patched together by broken heirlooms and shattered family traditions. Sitting on a throne made from skulls of those who thought they could ever kill him. 

You can't kill a monster, for you can not kill that which was never born. 

You can't slay something made from good intentions with malevolent methods, something so vile that it might actually be pure. At the end of the day, no monster really admits that it is a monster, a nightmare that should have never existed. 

Yet...

Tattered hearts and cruel orbs are never quite enough. No monster is complete until they dive off that last edge, plummet into the sea of nothingness, and finally, finally break their souls on the spiked soil. Monsters, spirits, curses any malicious being that had been mended together like a half-done ragdoll was not complete until they truly let go. Until they erased all the former humanity that they had been born with. Until their eyes reflected nothing, no emotions, no malice, no want, no need. Just the absolute emptiness. 

The void in all its glory.

that was the symbol, the true markings of a real monstrosity. The void that took over their existence, that had replaced every inch of their former self. Only then could it be said that you were above all other beings, the true perfection of this world. 

There are worse things created than monsters, things that are made from nothing and everything. Things above "Yin" and "Yang". Things that have no scrap of humanity, monstrosity, or anything in them.

Things that are just empty.

So maybe -just maybe- that's why when Sukuna's rotting orange eyes landed on the epitome of emptiness, a...girl, whose face was sculpted to disreflect emotions and intents. Someone who was the void of darkness itself. The true personification of nothingness. 

His heart -for the first time in countless centuries- began to throb.

a truly dead face swarmed by a sea of buzzing ants, chasing their routine happiness. Smiles of delight and carelessness carved on their aging faces with sunlight knives and the melody of golden coins. The lust for life leaking from every pore of their bodies. 

With every face being a carbon copy of each other it was no wonder yours stood out.

There was a silver chain of attraction, dragging Sukuna towards the village girl. Not love, never love, the king of curses was beyond certain, that neither you nor he could feel such a honey-laced sensation. It was more like....something. Something paranormal, inexpiable. Some magnetic force outside of everything's control. 

It was easy enough to explain why he liked you. Why you stood out from the other insects of this middle-of-nowhere-village. 

You had dark matter for blood and dead seas for brains. 

Your eyes radiated an endless abyss. Making others shy away from your lifeless gaze. Scared to look into the void in fear that it may respond. 

You were a thrown away doll,

A living dead,

A dying star,

You were the daughter of the number zero,

The monster that had no maker nor mother. 

Something not born nor created. 

Just an entity that roamed the earth, with no desire nor hope, no wish nor dream. Not leaving, not dying, just existing in the space between today and tomorrow. 

There'd been no need for pleasantries, for hiding behind ghostly tree branches and frozen windows. There'd been no need to kill or ravage for you. No competition to eliminate, because no one ever came near you. Humans don't like what they can't explain, Sukuna knew that all too well. 

Sukuna watched from a close enough distance to almost touch. Lingering around like a phantom begging to be noticed. Orbs trailing over you, but never approaching. Until one day he'd just stood still. Waited for you to turn your head just a fraction to the left, just to see him in all his menacing terror. To finally notice the clawing, crawling sensation that had been creeping up your spine like a hoard of spiders. 

And when your dead eyes did finally land on him. Sukuna could swear that his breath hitched in his throat for the first time in his seemingly endless life.

You weren't human. Humans didn't have hollow faces or marbles for lips. 

You weren't a curse. Curses didn't lack venom dripping from their souls.

You were something better than a monster. You were the divinity of monstrosity, the void itself. Black holes for eyes, answerless paradoxes for hands, and an endless maze where your torso should have been. 

 Exploding suns danced around you, burning, burning, till they died out, leaving behind no trace that they once lit up the universe. 

The space after the end, that's what you were.

Perfect, to Sukuna you were perfect.

You hadn't run, hadn't screamed, hadn't even bothered to talk. You didn't care about him, couldn't care about him. That's what made him want you, made his mouth salivate with the thought of your flesh between his teeth. 

That night the world stood still, as Sukuna's claws penetrated your flesh like twirling needles. You were as light as a feather. You weighed nothing, were nothing. All so easy to pluck and throw about. You never made a noise when your body collided with the bamboo walls, just letting gravity and Sukuna play a twisted ball game with your lump of a body.

You hadn't protested when he violated you. As his lips bit every inch of your body raw. For some unearthly reason that even the gods couldn't understand, would never want to understand, you had found the Curse's violent actions rather...adoring. Taking every slap and slash with the earnest pride of a small child getting praised for a day of relentless chores. letting the dawn-tinted-haired monster adorn your body in blue and purple jewels. It felt right, in a  pathetically, nauseating, twisted way...it just felt right.

 It was disastrous, sure, but it was right. Like two universes crashing. Destroying each other with every kiss and every bruise. 

But...

For the first time in your meaningless life, you had truly understood what "happiness" felt like. 

For the first time in his endless life, Sukuna had truly understood what "intimacy" felt like.

///

Was it wrong to kiss you? For a fraction of a second Sukuna hesitated, blood tinged lips hovering millimeters away from your own stone-set ones. The moon's cursed rays acting like an unnoticed barrier, keeping two things out of each other's grasp. His lips curled back revealing two rows of knife-like teeth. The last resort, a final hope that you'd run away, that you'd act somewhat normal. The king of curses, the evil among men, didn't mind your lack of regularity. He didn't mind how you leaned into every bitter strike, every painful display of fading affection . He adored how you merely giggled as he slashed open your uncharged skin, creating slits for your blood to spill through, onto his waiting tongue. He admired your lifelessness, the way you radiated death. 

Oh, how you filled him with a startling aftershock every time he touched you. Every time his tongue lapped at your bleeding skin he'd feel the sort of electric shocks that came after the storms had passed. Your body had no shape, it molded to his touch, turning his favorite shades of red, with just a little pressure. 

But sometimes, in fleeting, endless seconds. He wished he had a name for what you two were. You weren't his per se, you could never be his. Being his would indicate that he cared about you, or heck even loved you and that could never be true. The king of curses did not love, nor care. He merely tolerated you; you fascinated him, that's all. 

It had been many moons since he first found you in that no-name village. Months upon months since you'd been by his side. You'd watched as he'd destroyed cities, helped him even. Eyes never shedding a single tear. Mouth never uttering a single protest. 

The two of you had become the best, the King of curses and the Queen of nothingness. With the dying speed of laboring bees, Sukuna had carved himself inside of you. Twisted emptiness into flower-covered destruction. Into molten gold lava. 

Leaving you with wounds that were stuck in a cycle of healing and opening. Until they began to harden like his. Until the need for spilled blood lingered on your tongue like the burn of boiled tea. Until under your nails were coated in a decaying crust of dried blood. Sukuna hadn't turned you into a monster, he'd simply showed you the powers that came with your apathy. With a heart as torn and cold as yours, it was a shame to let it go to waste. 

"You're not half bad," his tone is never approving. It's always laced with a strictness that keeps you nailed into place. His words are oxymorons sounding like praise, but once you peel back the lather layers they're just taunts in disguise. 

You don't answer, words die on your tongue as quickly as they are born. Sukuna can't even remember what your voice sounds like outside of small whispers in heat filled nights. 

 However, to the two of you, things like that didn't matter. Your lack of being even semi-alive and Sukuna's endless abuse had become a norm for the two of you. Where else were a two-faced monster and a lifeless girl going to find love anyway? 

Sukuna was all you had, all you ever had. You'd die for him, kill for him, turn into anything for him. Because he gave you life. 

A purpose to life, made out of raging fires and endless screams. A life fabricated from the pain and suffering of others. That was what the king of curses had given you, all wrapped in a human skin parchment. Maybe that's why all logic withered away the first night he kissed you, maybe from the first second that you sensed his presence you had finally gained a reason to be alive. 

///

Whoever said the end of the world was beautiful? Whoever said the final days would be bright and glowing and pure? 

It's just a blaze of stray flames and red crystal droplets that may or may not be your blood. Funny, Sukuna had always thought that your blood would be as black as the moonless sky, not a mundane red like everyone else's. He'd expected a grander death from you. Some sort of black hole opening to swallow the world whole. Not just another corpse motionless in a pool of their own blood. 

Although he's not one to talk. His own 'death' is lingering on the horizon. Sukuna's head tilts back looking for the flashing jujutsu sorcerers. 

"S-sukun-a..." 

He smirks, fangs sticking out at odd angles. Your voice is sweet, for the first time in forever he'd even dare say it held some semblance of emotion. 

What that emotion is, he doubts he knows or even really cares. He'd long since stopped trying to identify all those "feelings" and their associated names. 

His orange eyes lock with your fading orbs, one last time. No, not the last time, just the final time in this lifetime. He's sure he's going to see you again. In any other life, Sukuna knows he'll be able to recognize you despite whatever flesh suit you'd be wearing. 

"Shh little one," he's halfway gone before he finishes his sentence, leaving you to relish in his memory in your final moments. "We'll see each other once more, someday in another life..."

His four eyes lock on the approaching sorcerers. He finds it humorous how desperate they look. How alive and ready they seem, such a stark contrast to your ever lifeless face and dead eyes, it repulses him. 

"Or maybe in one of the circles of hell." 

The flames encircling his fingers remind him of the heat your body radiated in the dead of night. The crack from bones hum as they meet his knuckles, flash memories of your days wasted together doing nothing and everything. 

The two of you will meet once more, he's sure of it. After all...

Monsters never die. 

How could something that was never even born in the first place, ever die?

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Water (Ethan x MC)

Warning: NSFW, 18+

A/N: I finally finished the Miami shower sex fic. It’s roughly ~5K words of nonsense, 60% is filth, and the urge to re-write it is strong, but here it is.

Enjoy!

~v~

Being in Miami with Naomi unnerves Ethan in ways he can’t articulate. They aren’t in the confines of the hospital, bound by the strict boss and subordinate boundaries he’s attempted to set for them. And while they’re in the city for a medical conference, he can’t help but feel like he’s just Ethan and she’s just Naomi.

Her presence is overwhelming and intoxicating. From the way she took charge and ordered them drinks on the plane, to the way her luggage spills over their shared hotel suite despite being checked in for less than 3 hours, to the way it feels effortless just walking along the beach with her, Ethan can’t escape her and the role she’s slipped into feels too familiar and comfortable, which actually gives off the opposite effect. It terrifies him.

“We’re in Miami, for goodness’s sake, our hotel is literally on the water, and we are going to the beach,” is what Naomi told him after she slipped out of her plane clothes and put on something more appropriate for the warm Miami weather. She didn’t give him any time to object–and boy did he want to–before catching his wrist and dragging him out of their hotel room.

And that’s how he ended up taking a walk on the beach, the hot sand sticking to his toes, Naomi by his side. For reasons he’s not ready to face, he can’t say no to her and it’s infuriating. But on the flip side, the way her cheeks turn up and eyes sparkle at the enjoyment of the little things like this make his insides twist, and he’s a prisoner to her happiness.

“Come on, we’re hundreds of miles away from the hospital, the beautiful sun is beaming down on us, and there’s nothing but warm sand and ocean breeze around us. You have to admit that this is nice,” Naomi urges, poking Ethan in between the ribs.

They came to Miami on a mission, and that was to get help for Naveen and also fulfill his duties to the hospital. Frolicking on the beach was nowhere on the agenda.

“We’re here for work. And besides, I could be spending this time catching up on sleep or enjoying our air conditioned suite. That’s my definition of nice.”

“I swear, you probably came out of the womb a grumpy old man,” Naomi teases. “At least try to unwind.”

“The fact that you managed to drag me out here is testimony enough, don’t you think?”

“Nope,” Naomi says, leaving no room for debate. This is one of those times where Ethan isn’t all that enamored by her stubbornness.She sits down in the sand, throwing down her sandals. She extends a hand, and after a few seconds Ethan sighs and begrudgingly accepts it, allowing her to pull him down as well.

“Now close your eyes,” Naomi orders, watching Ethan closely to see if he listens. Once he realizes that she isn’t going to stop glaring at him, he closes them. “Thank you.”

“I’m only doing this so you’ll eventually leave me alone.”

“Always the fuddy duddy. Can you sit in complete and utter silence for 10 seconds? Please?”

Something about the way she says that word only adds to the list of things she does that make him uneasy. Only because he hates the way he responds to her plea, something stirring in the pit of his stomach.

It’s hard for him to handle the stillness of the moment. He’s gotten too used to always moving, always having something to do, but he sucks it up and tries.

“When was the last time you took a vacation?” Naomi asks.

“Is it bad to say I don’t know?”

“Yes. I’d kill to have your vacation days.”

“Well what about you?”

“I went to Aspen with my family for Christmas last year,” Naomi replies. “We used to go on at least one vacation a year when I was a kid. I don’t know how much of that I’ll be doing with my residency, but it’s nice to get away, even if it’s for a few days, you know?”

“I do. I think it’s been a solid three years since I had a real vacation. I went to Italy.”

“Rome?”

“Florence.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Of course.” Ethan feels her thumb trace a circle on the inside of his palm, and that’s when he notices that they never stopped holding hands when she pulled him down, and his pulse skitters. Part of him believes Naomi doesn’t notice she’s doing it, so he stays silent.

“Do you speak Italian?”

“I’m fluent in all of the Romance languages,” Ethan admits.

Naomi scoffs and playfully nudges him with her shoulder. “No one likes a show-off, polyglot.”

“What about you?”

“I speak very minimal French. My grandma taught me some basics when I was a kid and spent my summers with her, and I tried to fine tune my skills in high school, but I’m not fluent.”

This is the first time he’s heard her talk about her family, even a little bit, and he clings to the information as if it’s precious.

This time when the conversation tapers, Ethan actually doesn’t mind the silence, and he revels in the presence of the pretty intern beside him, her hand still warm in his.

“I should’ve booked you a spa treatment,” is how Naomi eventually breaks the silence. Ethan’s eyes snap up and he stares at her. “What?”

“I don’t think I’m a spa treatment kind of guy.”

“The sauna could be nice. Or a mud bath.”

“You’re such a comedian, Rookie.”

“I’m serious!” Naomi leans forward and presses her thumb between his eyebrows, gently massaging the crease. “I think a day at the spa would be good for you. Relatively speaking, you’re too young to be getting wrinkles.”

“What does that mean, relatively speaking?”

“You’re young in comparison to the average life span, but compared to me you’re…”

Ethan raises an eyebrow in challenge. “Are you trying to call me old?”

“It’s fine,” Naomi assures him. “Lucky for you, I like older guys.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, Naomi realizes her grave mistake. She’s said too much, revealed her slip, and the double meaning of the sentence hangs in the air between them. Ethan’s eyes widen. His eyes fall on their still interlocked fingers before flitting back to her face, and that’s when Naomi notices that they’ve been holding hands. This entire time.

Ethan leans forward, until their faces are mere centimeters apart. Feeling bold, he takes one of her loose ringlets, curling it around his finger.

“Ethan, I–”

He stands so abruptly, Naomi almost falls over but she catches herself with her hands.

Ethan clears his throat, trying to center himself. What the hell was he thinking, nearly kissing his intern? How did he get so caught up that he almost crossed that line?”

Naomi stands up, wiping off the back of her shorts. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, Dr. Valentine.”

The name change feels like a physical strike. He hasn’t called her by her formal title the entire time they’ve been out here, but now she’s back to Dr. Valentine?

“Are you sure because I could’ve sworn that you were about to–”

“You know what? I think I’ve had enough of this beach excursion for the day, and I’m going to rest before we have to go to the party later on?”

A party? Where the fuck did that come from? “Ethan, slow down. A party? What party are you talking about?”

“Every year there’s a party hosted in conjunction with the party. It’s a black tie event, so please dress accordingly. See you later.”

His long legs carry him away before she can even reply, and he’s trudging back to the hotel, leaving Naomi more confused than she was ten minutes ago.

They were sharing a moment and Ethan was going to kiss her…right? This isn’t some fever dream, she didn’t just make that up, it is a fact. And just as fast as they were connecting, he put up a wall and shut her out.

She sits down again, ruminating over the situation and trying to wrap her head around it all.

After a while, annoyance forms in the pit of her stomach. Ethan doesn’t get to just play with her like a ping pong. And if she misread the situation, he should be big enough to tell her that to her face, not run off. And the more she thinks about it, the more she stews, and the annoyance turns into anger simmering under her skin. She stands, brimming with righteous indignation. He doesn’t get to walk away from her, and she’s going to tell him as such.

The trek back to the hotel only makes her angrier, because she only has time and opportunity to think, especially with the long elevator ride up to their suite. Once she makes it to the room and the door shuts behind her, she hears some shuffling around coming from the en-suite as well as running water.

“Ethan, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you need to explain whatever that was on the beach,” Naomi starts. She doesn’t get an immediate response from him. “The walls aren’t that freaking thick, I know you can hear me.” She inches closer to the door and notices that it’s been left slightly ajar. “And you left the door open, genius. Now I really know you can hear me.”

Maybe the walls really are that thick because she thinks she hears him talking, but it’s muffled. She almost lets it go until she hears a gruff, “Naomi!” come from the other side of the door.

So he can hear her. Good! Because she has a lot to say. She doesn’t give it a second thought, she charges towards the bathroom and forcefully pushes open the door.

What on earth was she thinking, barging into the bathroom like a bat out of hell?

The correct answer to that is she wasn’t thinking, fueled only by her need to argue with the infuriating man who left her on the beach like an idiot.

And now she’s standing in front of him and he’s stark naked.

The professional clothes and the white coat he wears at the hospital do an amazing job of keeping him contained, but here in this bathroom, Naomi realizes for the first time just how massive this man is. Tall isn’t enough of a description. His wide shoulders lead down to powerful arms, all corded muscle and tension. His chest, those defined pecs and a six-pack. Of course he’d be built like this underneath those clothes. Like a Greek fucking god. Of course.

That still isn’t what steals her breath straight from her body. It’s his hand, strong and powerful, wrapped around the base of his cock.

She should really say something. Apologize profusely. Beg to keep her spot in the competition, beg to keep her job at Edenbrook period. But she can’t. Any form of coherent or rational thought has been banished from her brain, and this soaking wet image of her boss is the only thing running through her mind.

Dr. Ethan Ramsey masturbates.

And if he’s still thinking about the moment they shared less than an hour ago, coupled with the fact that she heard him call out her name, it’s safe to assume that Dr. Ethan Ramsey masturbates to thoughts of her.

The realization makes her flame, and Naomi swears her body temperature has spiked to near feverish. And the fact that Ethan isn’t doing anything to right the situation—putting his hands in a more appropriate place, saying something, yelling at her to leave—only makes things more insane. He keeps his eyes fixed on her, his gaze so intense, she swears he can see her brain.

The angel on Naomi’s shoulder is screaming at her to stop gawking at him like some fish out of water, but she can’t. Now that she’s seen him, really seen him, she doesn’t know how she’ll ever go back to him being anything other than this, six feet, five inches, 200 pounds of pure unadultered sex.

The urge to touch him is so strong, she doesn’t think she’ll be able to do anything else until her hands are on him.

Swallowing whatever nerves are trying to creep up, Naomi takes a tentative step forward, and reaches for the glass door. The glass pane slides away so slowly, she almost wonders if it’s her subconscious giving her enough time to bolt before she makes even more of an ass of herself, but she ignores whatever annoying voice in her head is telling her to go.

“I’m not an idiot, Ethan. I’m not naive, and I’m not blind.” Naomi takes another step forward, the steam of the shower and a light spray of warm water hitting her face. Gingerly, her hand finds purchase on his chest, and they settle on his left pec.

His heart is beating so wildly, Naomi actually gasps at the erratic thumping beneath her fingertips. “Naomi–”

“I was so confused earlier,” Naomi confesses. “I thought you and I had been vibing these past few weeks, I thought you and I actually had something. And then we had our near first kiss earlier, but you pushed me away and ran off faster than a lightning strike, and I was hurt, and convinced that I completely misread the situation. So imagine my surprise when I walk in on this. You are horribly affected by me.”

“Naomi.” The way he says her name is so much rougher than it was previously, and it sends a shiver down her spine. Yup. So affected.

“It’s okay though, you don’t even have to say anything,” she continues. Taking Ethan’s free hand, she places it on her own chest so Ethan can feel her own erratic heartbeat. “Because trust me, I feel the exact same way.”

He doesn’t say anything else, opting to pull her in by the front of her t-shirt instead, what very little restraint he had over himself gone in this instant. The full blast of water comes as a shock, but Naomi can’t even react to it before Ethan slants his mouth over hers, pulling her into a bruising kiss.

The first thing she notices is just how rough his stubble is as it scrapes her mouth. The second thing is she probably would have fallen over due to how forcefully he pulled her into the shower, and she’s thankful his grip on her is as tight as it is.

Fireworks. A million fireworks going off at the same time. That’s what kissing Ethan feels like.

He sets the pace, but she kisses him back with just as much fervor. He kisses her like they have all the time in the world and none at all, passionate and intense, like he wants to devour her.

Her lungs protest against this endeavor, practically begging her to inhale something other than Ethan. But she doesn’t want to stop kissing him, even if it’s just for a second.

Thankfully Ethan makes the first move to separate them, breaking the kiss. His tongue licks along her neck and her head falls back in pleasure. So caught up in their kiss, it’s easy for Naomi to forget that she’s fully clothed, Ethan tugging at the fabric of her shirt quickly reminding her.

The water has the clothes clinging to her like a second skin, and Naomi giggles at the frustrated huffs Ethan lets out in his quest to undress her. The giggle turns into a full on squeal as she hears the telltale sound of a rip as her t-shirt ends up on the shower floor, followed by her shorts, and Naomi has to kick off her sandals to assist.

Once her clothes are in a sopping wet heap on the floor, Ethan regains control of the situation. Naomi’s back is pressed against the cold marble wall and Ethan’s mouth is on hers again, bruising and hard. It’s almost like he wants to punish her through his kisses.

“I have tried my absolute hardest to keep you at arms length,” is the first full sentence he’s said since Naomi entered the bathroom. “I compartmentalize my feelings for you, I am constantly reminding myself of our power dynamic. And you just keep inching your way closer at every single turn despite my best efforts.”

Naomi hums in reply. “Maybe you shouldn’t have been trying to keep me away in the first place.”

He’s kept her away because he knew. Ethan knew Naomi would find a way to get under his skin, leaving him to feel open and raw like he just got scrubbed with sandpaper. Having her like this is a fantasy come true, and he knows without a shadow of a doubt that once this line is crossed, he’ll never want to go back. He can be a selfish bastard sometimes.

“If we do this then–”

“I’m a big girl, Ethan,” Naomi assures him. One of her hands reaches in the tiny space between them, and she grips his erection. Ethan shudders and leans forward, crowding her space even more as she strokes him at a leisurely pace. “And we can talk about all of the messy stuff later, but right now, talking is the last thing on my mind.”

“Alright, Rookie. Enough talking.”

Her underwear is off before another word can be uttered.

Naomi isn’t sure what she was expecting, but he slides two fingers inside of her before she can think, and the sharp intrusion leaves her gasping. Ethan doesn’t treat her with kid gloves, the quite opposite actually. Whatever sound she’s going to make, he quickly swallows with a kiss.

Naomi is expressive. It’s one of the first things Ethan noticed about her. She’s going to be seen and heard at all times, and that extends to the bedroom. And since he has effectively cut her off with a kiss, Naomi sinks her nails into him, one set on his shoulder, the others raking through his hair, urging him to continue his ministrations. Good.

He breaks the kiss, leaving a trail of tiny kisses and bites along her jaw, neck, and collarbone, paying special attention to her nipples, lavishing them with his tongue. He drops to his knees in front of her, urging her to lean backwards against the wall behind them and Naomi does so without an ounce of hesitation.

The one hand not currently playing her like a fiddle runs along the smooth expanse of her curves, tracing every dimple and mark he can find. He does this until his eyes fall on the tiny tattoo marking her skin, resting on her hip. “I never took you as a tattoo kind of girl.”

“I have a few secrets left to tell, Ramsey.”

“Why on your hip?”

“My parents would’ve killed me if I got it somewhere visible,” Naomi explains breathlessly as Ethan continues to stroke her, slowly coaxing her towards an orgasm.

Ethan places a kiss on her left hip, right below the tattoo as if it’s to be revered before sucking a mark on it. Something to remember him by.

“Naomi?”

“Hmm?”

“Eyes on me,” Ethan commands her. It’s a tough task because the steam and the water have made it difficult to see and she would enjoy nothing more than to close her eyes and fully revel in what he’s doing to her, but they manage to lock eyes. “Good girl.”

The first swipe of his tongue against her makes her legs buckle, but thankfully Ethan keeps her upright.

His fingers curl inside of her, and Naomi swears her vision goes blurry for a second, but not once do her eyes waver from his. Ocean blue irises hold her gaze, and she feels like they’re burning her from the inside out. Everything is hot, too hot, but at the same time she feels like she might go insane without it.

The strokes are slow and languid. In, out, curl, twist, keeping pace with the way his tongue laves against her clit. Soon her breathless whimpers become more ragged, more labored and she grabs a handful of Ethan’s hair, tugging it so hard, she’d worry about actually pulling it out if she cared about anything other than finding the edge of the cliff he’s so close to pushing her off. Ethan can tell she’s close. The incessant tugging at his scalp, the increasingly louder moans, and the way her hand slaps against the wet tile.

She knows it’s coming, but her orgasm takes her by surprise, pleasure seizing her at the base of her spine. Her legs tense up and her entire body falls forward, taking Ethan with her. He cushions her fall, and they both land with a hard thud.

Naomi giggles again. And soon that giggle becomes a full on laugh, so uncontrollable that Ethan wonders if she’s snapped.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just never…fallen over during sex before,” saying that out loud makes her laugh again.

“And is this a good thing?”

Naomi leans forward and kisses Ethan, smiling through it. “We’ll you’re the first guy to ever make my legs give out in the middle of an orgasm so…yes. I’d say it’s a very good thing.”

Well that is a healthy ego boost, Ethan thinks to himself. “Good to know.”

When blood circulation has returned to her legs, Naomi stands up, pulling Ethan along with her. She deposits him on the spacious bench built in along the back wall of the shower and he falls onto the seat with a hard thud.

He watches through hooded lids as Naomi straddles him, undulating against him in a way that makes him want to take control and bury himself to the hilt inside her.

“Question for you, Ethan Ramsey,” Naomi starts.

“Answer for you, Naomi Valentine.”

“When I walked in here, were you thinking about me? Was I the subject in your dirty little fantasy?”

“Always,” Ethan is shocked by how breathless the answer comes out, but at this point, pride and ego aren’t needed. Not when they’re like this. “Since day one, I have been consumed with nothing but thoughts of you.”

“Mhmm, what was I doing in this particular fantasy?” Naomi asks. She takes him into her hands, and at a tortuous pace, rubs the swollen tip of his erection against her clit, drawing out a moan from the older man.

His memory fails him. Nothing he conjures up in his head will ever be comparable to the sight of a naked Naomi in his lap. She’s so beautiful, water droplets clinging to her skin, lips kiss swollen, loose strands of hair clinging to the sides of her face, her round cheeks flushed.

He doesn’t remember what the fantasy entailed, he just knew this woman’s presence was so overwhelming, if he didn’t expel some of the tension, he wouldn’t survive going to a black tie event with her.

“I don’t know. I don’t care,” Ethan says honestly. “The real you is so much better.”

“I think I like that answer.”

Ethan lifts her by the hips and in one smooth thrust, he’s fully sheathed inside of her. He notices that way Naomi’s eyes are fixed on where they’re joined, glazed over by pleasure and he’s never seen something so erotic.

She starts to move, slowly at first because she’s still way too sensitive from her last orgasm to do anything else. But the slow pace she sets does nothing to ease her, it only makes things worse. Every slow glide, every brush of his pelvis against her is magnified tenfold, and the heat she felt earlier has turned into a bull blown inferno, consuming every inch of her. But now, the only way out is through, and she’s trapped in a delicious purgatory until the next wave hits. It only intensifies when Ethan’s mouth closes around one of her nipples, sucking fiercely. “Oh, fuck.”

He releases the bud with a soft ‘pop’, pulling a soft groan from her lips. Her head falls back, but Ethan catches a fistful of her hair and drags her back, forcing her to make eye contact. “Eyes on me, Rookie. I want to see your face.”

The tiny pinpricks of pain at her scalp give way to pleasure as his grip on her tightens. “Harder.”

Ethan smirks and wordlessly obeys the order, pulling Naomi’s hair even harder as she moans. Huh. He’s going to tuck this information away for a later date and time.

The hand not holding her hair goes back to her hip and he squeezes tightly before guiding her up and down. And that’s when the pressure starts building again, up, and up, and up, until the only sounds that can be heard are the obscene slaps of their wet skin and her broken whimpers. His hand leaves her hip, not having to move far before his thumb is on her clit, working it in soft circles.

Naomi comes so hard, her teeth chatter and she’s almost afraid of cracking them. Unable to keep up the eye contact, she leans forward, resting her forehead against his. He gives her a second to catch her breath before he rocks into her, trying to chase his own release.

“Naomi, I…fucking I’m going to–”

She nods, understanding exactly what he’s trying to say. She bites down on his earlobe, tugging. “Inside me.” Then she kisses the patch of skin right below his ear and grinds against him once more. “Or on the tattoo.”

Holy fuck. That alone sets him off like a bottle rocket. He bites down on her shoulder hard enough to break skin.

His heart beats so wildly, he doesn’t know if it will ever return to its normal resting state. With his arms wrapped around her like this, he wonders if this is their new normal. How that he’s been with her like this, how on earth will she go back to being his subordinate. Everything about her feels like euphoria, her taste, her touch, her scent is embedded in him, so deep in his skin, she might as well be woven into his DNA. But the thing about it is, he’s not sure he wants it to.

On top of being a selfish bastard at times, he is wildly possessive.

It takes a long time for them to separate , neither one of them wanting to move or disrupt the peaceful little bubble they’ve created within the confines of this shower.

Eventually Ethan pulls Naomi off of him, but his grip on her remains steady. He stands as well and reaches behind him, grabbing the bottle of shower gel he has on the shelf. It isn’t until the clean scent of citrus and sea salt hits her nose does Naomi realize he’s using his shower gel. A chill sweeps through her. Sure they just had sex–great sex even–but sharing this man’s shower gel is a subtle intimacy that she wasn’t prepared for, and her chest goes tight.

“I smell like you,” Naomi murmurs sleepily.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Of course not, you always smell good. I do draw the line at sharing shampoo. Whatever shit you use might destroy my hair.”

Ethan snorts. “I saw the amount of hair goop you stuffed into your suitcase. Trust me, I won’t get in the way of that routine.”

Once they’re both sufficiently lathered, they duck under the water to rinse off, and they finally step out of the shower. The entire room is full of steam, and Naomi almost feels bad that they wasted so much hot water. God, her skin is going to be so dry if she doesn’t moisturize soon.

Ethan wraps her in a large white terry cloth bathrobe before wrapping a towel around his waist.

“I’m still mad that you didn’t give me any sort of notice about this party,” Naomi huffs. Ethan rolls his eyes and takes a step forward, his hand wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer until her back is firmly against his chest.

“It’s in a few hours, how much more notice do you need?”

“What if I didn’t pack an appropriate dress?” Naomi implores hypothetically. “Or shoes?”

He shrugs. “I have a credit card, and this hotel has a boutique.”

“Well lucky for you, and your wallet, I packed a few dresses,” Naomi says. Her mother taught her to be prepared for any situation, including the spur of the moment black tie event. “I’ll pull together something decent.”

“You’re beautiful, you always look more than decent.”

“Compliments will get you everywhere with me, Ramsey.”

Using the palm of her hand, Naomi wipes some of the steam off of the mirror in front of them and takes a good look in the mirror. She looks thoroughly debauched. It’s going to take a miracle to pull herself together with just a few hours’ notice.

She also notices the dark mark blooming on her right shoulder, outlined by teeth marks. Ethan’s bite is only going to get darker and more prominent as time ticks on.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to cover up this mark you gave me though.”

Ethan slides the robe off of her shoulder to examine the bite mark. He runs his thumb along it soothingly before planting a kiss on the spot. “I have a solution.”

“Oh yeah? What?”

Instead of replying immediately, Ethan bends down slightly and scoops up Naomi, bridal style. “How about I give you a matching one on the left shoulder?”

~v~

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[onouwu]

Witch Heart Hunter

From far away, the low din of celebration from the residential area made its way through the large windows of a bare loft, a typically empty unsold apartment. Sounds of people about to welcome the new year melded with the ringing of car alarms and the manufactured happiness of radio pop. A bright shaft of moonlight shone through the overhead skylight, illuminating the brick interior and pristine hardwood floor where a pale brunette trespasser lies in a revealing blue dress with her wide brim hat covering her face, waiting. Time seemed to stop as Daisy laid on her back absorbing the sounds and vibrations of the city around her. Her heart thrummed in anticipation. Goosebumps raised on her bare skin at the thought of what was to come.

“I’m ho~oome!” Crystal announced, always heard before she was seen. Short blue-silver haired with a devilish smile like a fallen angel. Her frame was lithe and frail compared to Daisy’s taller stature and defined curves.  She materialized through a portal that appeared by their front door, revealing a beast of endless glowing blue tendrils on the other side before fading away into shadow. Looking up from her position on the floor, Daisy lifted the brim of her hat and gave her hungry look.

“Do you hear that?” Daisy sat up and cocked her head towards the city lights.

“Yes!” Crystal said “It’s like they’re begging to be taken,”

“Mmmh, I hope some do, the willing are fun to play with” Daisy let out “It’s been so long since we last feasted. We’d best be careful not to get overwhelmed”

Crystal laughed it off “You know, the hungrier I get, the stronger I am. Just guard the outside while I take my half and leave you the others, okay?”

Daisy just smirked as she got up “I’ll be counting”

The new year party goers were surrounded on three sides by towering evergreens, and to the north of their clearing was a partially frozen lake. A group of eight sat by the lakeshore, drinking beers, and listening to the radio for the countdown. A loner stood away from them on the ice, looking up at the moon and hugging himself for warmth. On a wooden log next to a crackling campfire, a couple sat kissing passionately. Scarves, gloves, and a white brassiere hung from the branches next to them like exotic flowers in the moonlight.

Daisy perched on a branch in the treetops, Crystal sat next to her, her excitement radiating off her as she peered into the crowd. And so, the pair sat and watched, waiting for midnight to strike when the group would converge. It was then that the witches would feed. “Get ready to say hello to the new year, folks! It’s currently 11:59!” The group hollered in response to the jovial radio host. “If you’re listening right now, I wish you good health, happiness, and safe travels home. We’ll leave it to the city timepiece to count us down. We’re signing off for the holidays! As always, stay safe. Stay inside.” To this, several of the group scoffed.

Crystal elbowed Daisy in the rib, interrupting her observation. She looked beside her to see Crystal, thighs straddling the branch they were on and swinging her legs without a care in the world.

“Hey Daisy, make it snow will ‘ya?”

With a bit of a laugh Daisy’s eyes fell shut and her right hand waved in the air with a bright blue glow. High above the treetops, a cloud swirled and grew. Soon, snowflakes fell to the ground above the opening.

“Hey check it out!” The partygoers oohed and aahed, momentarily distracted by the sudden snowfall. No one seemed to notice that it was only in their clearing that snow fell. As if on cue, their heads shot to the side as the first of many fireworks exploded in the distance. “Ten! Nine! Eight—” The group gathered around the campfire, bottles in hand. “Seven! Six!” The lovers finally separated. “Five! Four!” The loner slowly made his way to the group, avoiding the couple. “Three!” The snow fell harder. “Two!” The fireworks came faster. “One!” Crystal and Daisy stood. “HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

A sound like an explosion rang in their ears. The snowfall had evolved into a storm. A wall of ice sprung up from the ground, blocking the city skyline with what looked like a jagged translucent glacier encircling them. They began to realize the trap they had fallen into much too late.

These walls were soon dotted with portals to another realm where slippery glowing tendrils shot out and grabbed their helpless victims.

“All this energy is going to feed us for days!” Crystal cried out.

Daisy couldn’t think. All she could hear was the sound of the humans wailing and the ecstasy of feeding. She was drawn into the uproar by its momentum. It was hard for her to resist immediately draining the life from these trapped humans, but she walked along the ice wall to scout the area for any alerted human forces. Sure enough, it didn’t take long before she saw a bespectacled woman with dark skin in camos and a black tank top. Her long curly hair a crimson red and her eyes display an unsettling calm when looking at the witch’s trap.

Daisy heeded caution, but she could see from the well-developed physique of this woman that there was a lot of life in her that shouldn’t go to waste. She quickly raised her hand and formed a snowy tornado around her that instantly hardened into a cone of solid frosty ice.

“Ohh what a catch” Daisy let out as she slid down the ice tower and began walking toward the woman who stood eerily still despite her situation. Daisy took the cue however and didn’t get too close before she froze the woman’s feet to the ground.

“You’re full of delicious energy. What’s your name, sweetie?” Daisy let out joyfully as she felt the intense energy radiating off this woman – more than any human she has ever seen.

“Name’s Hilda, dead witch… I want you to scream it loud before I crush your throat” The woman let out. In an incredible display of strength, Hilda slammed her fists against the wall of ice and smashed a hole into it within a second.

Daisy’s heart jumped from seeing such a superhuman display of power, reminiscent of the witch hunters of old. She decided to quickly end it, and summoned sharp spears of ice beneath the woman to skewer her. However, as the ice shot up like a rocket, the woman freed her feet and moved from over the forming pillar, using it as leverage to leap toward Daisy.

Terror filled Daisy’s hungry eyes as Hilda landed within a few feet of her. Daisy could only form a flat wall before her and flee while giving herself a moment to figure out how to handle this mysteriously strong person. Daisy quickly summoned a blizzard behind her as she ran to gain more distance, but all she could hear was the cracking of the ice as soon as it formed. Every step she took those behind her felt closer. Her poor lungs started to wheeze while her heart slammed in her throat, filling her ears with its frantic thrumming.

She turned around to summon another barrier but was met with a heart-stopping gaze inches from her face and a deep agonizing pain in the pit of her stomach. the woman’s fist had just buried itself into her core and robbed her of what little breath she had.

Daisy dropped to her knees, clutching at her chest with one hand, croaking hoarsely as she gasped for air and heaved. This was a blow like she had never felt before. As she lay on the forest floor weak and breathless, she felt utterly helpless. She could only wonder what the woman had in store for her after that.

In her winded state, Daisy managed to roll onto her burning and aching stomach. She desperately clawed at the frozen earth.

“You’re pathetic.” A boot harshly turned her over onto her back. Daisy could only see the sadism shining through this woman’s cold and heartless gaze before she stomped on the pale bare flesh of Daisy’s midsection.

Daisy tried to curl into the fetal position but Hilda shoved her boot in harder, crushing her organs under the hard thick rubber of her boot.

Hilda knelt down and Sat on Daisy’s hips, the relief of that shoe leaving her body wouldn’t hast long before she felt a calloused hand wrapping around her throat and squeezing mercilessly

“Haahkk- aahk—" Daisy let out in a desperate plea for air, grabbing and forming icy shackles around Hilda’s arm. A bright blue glow came from her hands and the ice pushed upward to lift the hand. Despite the intense cold, the determined soldier doubled down her grip. The ice cracking, shards falling on Daisy’s body as her efforts proved futile.

“I hope you all make it this easy. Just give up so I can cut your heart out and add it to my trophy wall” Hearing that makes Daisy’s heart slam against her ribs as if trying to escape its fate, but while Hilda’s hand cuts off the vital route of blood to her brain, its efforts only hastened the end of her precious oxygen supply. Her vision blurred as drool overflowed from her lips. The thick blue veins in her neck standing on end, her purple face and throat bulging, looking as if her head would pop like a grape while she struggled to free herself.

“You know what… I can’t wait for that.” Hilda pulled out a knife, Daisy squirmed beneath the woman with all her might at the sight of the glossy silver blade, but to no avail. The last-ditch effort only brought a smile to Hilda’s face in its futility as her cold steel pressed against Daisy’s breathlessly squirming chest.

Daisy’s gaze rested upon that vengeful piercing stare as her vision faded, feeling the knife bite her skin. Despite her efforts to cling to consciousness and her frantic pleas to her eldritch patron, her body quickly calmed and succumbed to its fate. She could only lie there breathlessly while the cold blade slowly descended into her chest and inched closer to her pounding heart.

“Daaaaaayyyseeee, it’s dinner time” Crystal called out.

Crystal waited for a few seconds before getting impatient. She decided to see for herself what was going on and leapt up to a tentacle which she sat on as it towered above the icy wall “Ugh, don’t tell me you’re not sharing the-“ Crystal watched in complete shock as she saw Someone sitting on Daisy’s unconscious body, continuing to strangle her while slipping a knife beneath her ribs. That shock turned to a hot rage quickly before she lifted her staff and summoned a portal behind the woman

THWACK- massive and slick tendril sent the woman flying a few feet away from Daisy.

The woman let out a “GAH” as she bounced off the ground once and rolled to a stop on her stomach. Ignoring this, she raised her head and looked back to where she stood a moment before. A translucent blue tentacle undulated, its base emerging from a portal near Daisy’s supine body and its tip stroking her neck, another wrapped around the blade which twitched to the beat of the frantic organ writhing against its tip.

“Tsk, tsk. Oh, Daisy. I thought I taught you to last longer than that? Disappointing.” Crystal let out while Hilda looked up at her.

“Hello there! Who might you be, and how did you manage to do that?” Crystal pointed at Daisy.

“You’ll see” Hilda replied

“My friend Daisy back there is a bit of a lightweight, I admit. But still, I’ve never met a non-magical person who could do such a thing.” Crystal planted her staff on the ground and put her crossed arms on top of it. She perched her chin atop a forearm as she leaned against her staff, looking at Hilda with a pixieish smile. “Comeon… What’s your deal? I’d love to know before I… well, you know.”

Hilda, now on her feet, shot a death glare at Crystal. “Oh, you’ll find out what my deal is. Firsthand.”

“Dangerous and snappy! I love it.” Crystal said

Hilda took off and charged the witch where she stood. Crystal ripped her staff from the ground and held it out to her side as Hilda closed the distance between them. The redhead’s fist cut through the air like a bullet, inches away from Crystal’s neck but stopped short as she fell to the ground. She looked back to see a large tendril gripping her leg and pulling her back to the portal from where it came.

“Keep going, show me what you got, sweetie!” Crystal said while more slithered out from the portal and grabbed the woman’s body, slick and wet as they coiled around her limbs and slid down to her wrists and ankles

“Ngh!” A grunt of effort escaped as she struggled against them until she calmed down and let the witch close in. Crystal stood up against the bound woman.

“Looks like you were about to take my friends heart. If you want a witch’s heart so much, here…” Crystal grabbed Hilda’s hand gently and pressed it to her own chest. Her excited heart pounding into Hilda’s palm.

“You have mine already.” Crystal smiled

Hilda ripped her hand from Crystal’s body as disgust filled her eyes. Crystal’s own expression filled with disappointment

“Come on, don’t be so cruel… to yourself! It’s your last moment, don’t you think you should let yourself enjoy it?” Crystal said as she wrapped her arms around Hilda in a tight hug, closing her eyes to feel the nonverbal exchange between their pounding hearts, Crystal’s excitement and Hilda’s rage fueling eachother in every exasperated beat. The life in this woman made her drool, a powerful energy she had never felt before, all hers for the taking. A treat that must be savored. Hilda’s muscular body squirmed against her and moves her delicate and flimsy body around like nothing, held back only by the power of her spell.

After about a minute the captive woman stopped resisting, to Crystal’s disappointment.

“Mmmm, time to-“ Crystal opened her eyes to see Hilda staring down at her with a wicked smile. As she reached for her staff she felt the woman’s hand holding it, the tendril that was binding her wrist ending in a fleshy pulp.

“hey, give me that” Crystal let out as she backed off from arm’s length. The tendrils left Hilda’s body to Crystal’s horror, showing just how faithful her demonic deity was to her as it obeyed its new vessel.

Crystal’s heart sank, her legs began to shake as she weighed her options and held her composure.

“You think I need that? We speak telepathically, and you can’t understand the language of ancient Gods”

“Your guard dog speaks just fine… Nothing’s going to be quite as satisfying as what I am about to do to you now” Hilda let out as she raised the staff above her head. Crystal’s composure dropped and she fell back reflexively, crawling up to run, only to be tripped by a familiar slimy appendage. She frantically pulled at it to no avail

“What are you doing, stop!” she said to the demonic being, though she was met with silence.

Hilda approached with a grin from ear to ear. Crystal couldn’t stop herself from struggling in vain, putting on a pathetic show for her assailant. As Hilda closed in, Crystal puts her hand in front of her face. Hilda grabbed her wrist roughly and pulled her up. The staff glowed in Hilda’s hand and Crystal felt a warmth on her chest.

“Come on, you wanted to have some fun didn’t you?” Hilda let out, stabbing the staff in the ground beside her and grabbing the top of Crystal’s blouse, ripping it open and baring her naked body. Confused, Crystal looked down, her eyes widened at the sight -- her chest covered in the runes of a small portal into her body. The space inside the circle disappeared and Hilda’s hand reached in.

“Ahhh! Wait, wait!” Crystal cried out as she felt an intense pressure in her chest, the thrumming in her ears and body ceased.

Hilda grinned “You wanted to give me this? What a pathetic thing, I don’t even want it… now go ahead, do something, your arms are free.” Hilda let out harshly, sending a new explosion of agony through Crystal’s chest, radiating outward into her weary body while the woman’s fingers sank into the meat of her helplessly squirming life. As her fate set in, she stopped short of giving Hilda the satisfaction of token resistance for as long as she can.

“What a great stress relief, crushing a wretched witch’s heart” Hilda says with a twisted sense of amusement. Crystal remained silent, looking up and spitting in Hilda’s face.

“Come on, bitch, do something fun” Intense waves of unbearable pressure consumed Crystal as Hilda harshly pumped her heart.

“AHK!! Please!” Crystal let out, caving easily as she flailed and tried digging her fingernails into the intruding arm with all her might -- a smile cracking the frustrated frown on Hilda’s face. Crystal’s vision grew blurry, her head feeling light, but the cruel woman’s torment was fueled by her helpless struggling.

“I’d love to keep going but I need to finish what I started with your fri-“

Hilda’s words ended abruptly as a ball of solid ice slammed into the side of her head. When Hilda lets go and fell over unconscious, Crystal saw Daisy behind her, holding her own chest and panting heavily while forming an icy prison Hilda’s body

“Crystal… we need to be more careful” Daisy let out, sitting beside her partner, pulling her to her lap, watching over her while she took shallow labored breaths

Crystal couldn’t speak to tell Daisy how grateful she was to see her. As the portal on her chest closed, every heartbeat sent shockwaves through her body.

“Wh…what about her” Crystal mustered

“We’re going to study her… painfully. And figure out what this new power is.”

[wandas-sunshine]

Strike Three

Summary: Everybody makes mistakes. Your first mistake was telling your family that you were seeing someone when you were just as single as ever. Your second mistake was asking Pietro to fake a relationship to keep your family off your back. Well, maybe that wasn’t such a mistake.

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 3,826

You didn’t have the best track record with relationships, you knew that. Even if you didn’t know, your family would have made damn sure to inform you. You knew they only fussed so much because they loved you, because they wanted the best for you. But they were such a headache sometimes.

You were going bonkers now. Your mother was becoming overbearing with her insistence that you needed to hurry up and settle down, and your sister was positive that she could handle the whole thing for you. She herself was engaged, so your mom agreed that she probably knew how to steer you back down the proper path.

And maybe it was the exhaustion of hearing them try to arrange a good relationship for you, or maybe the panic of listening to your sister talk about her new coworker (who was a very impressive man, don’t you know?), but for some reason, you went and said something so painfully stupid.

“I’ve been seeing someone.”

That was nearly a month ago, and your entire family was pestering you for more information. You felt bad avoiding their calls, but you were bluffing and you had barely gotten out of that conversation alive. Your sister was bringing her fiance to Christmas, so of course that meant you were expected to bring someone as well.

Avoiding conversations about your nonexistent boyfriend was growing difficult. You’d been holding out hope that you would find someone by the time the holidays rolled around, but no luck. A real boyfriend would have been ideal, but your frantic attempts at finding someone to play the part also yielded no success.

You had of course contemplated faking a breakup, but that would only further their idea that you couldn’t handle your own love life. You had dug a hole that you just couldn’t climb out of.

So with one week to your family’s Christmas gathering, you were sitting on your best friend’s bed with your head in your hands.

“I am so royally screwed, Wanda. Stevie is going to force me to go out with some accountant or one of Adam’s firefighter friends, and my mom’s gonna make me marry him. Then what?” You wailed. She laughed, finally looking up from her phone.

“Who’s dating an accountant?” Pietro’s voice made your complaints die on your tongue. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. With him standing there having heard about your pathetic predicament, you couldn’t help the embarrassment that coursed through your veins.

“(Y/N) apparently. If they don’t find a date to Christmas with their family.” Wanda answered him. You groaned again. “They told everyone that they have a boyfriend, and now they have nobody to show.”

“I’ll do it.” He offered so nonchalantly that it took a second to process. Then you’d sat up so fast that you got dizzy.

“For real? You’ll do it?” You clasped your hands together in a silent plea, and Pietro shrugged.

“Why not. Text me the details,” He left you shouting your appreciation after him as he made his way back to his own bedroom.

A week passed by, and you had confirmed your plus one. You kept the information you shared minimal, just giving his name and saying that you hadn’t wanted to say anything until you were sure he’d be able to come. You were nervous about the whole thing, a whole list of things that could go wrong playing on an endless loop in your head as you tapped against your steering wheel.

A few moments passed before he finally came out with his suitcase in hand. Three nights at your parents home with your sister, and your friend who you’d somehow coerced into pretending to date you seemed like a nightmare. But Pietro’s presence was calming. He sat his bag in the back and settled into the passenger seat. He had the brightest smile on his face.

He buckled in and sorted out the music as you started on the drive back to your childhood home. The quiet between the two of you lasted a while before he broke it.

“So what’s our story, cupcake?” He smirked and turned the music down, looking over as you spared him a confused glance.

“Our story?”

“Yeah, you know. How we met, how we got together. The story we’re gonna tell our kids one day.” Your stomach flipped. What were you getting yourself into?

“Um, I guess we met through Wanda,” You started, keeping your eyes on the road and gripping the steering wheel tightly so you didn’t have to focus on how strange the whole conversation felt.

“And I saved you from some drunk creep at a party,” He started. “I took you to iHop-”

“And we’ve been together ever since!” You finished with a laugh. It was mostly true, everything he mentioned had happened, just not exactly like that. It made you feel a little better knowing that you weren’t lying to your family, just...rearranging the truth.

“See, baby, we’re gonna be just fine,” The sound of the pet name flustered you much more than you were willing to admit. You rolled your eyes and cleared your throat.

“Okay. But if we’re gonna make it, there’s gotta be rules.” You warned him. He motioned for you to go on. “Rule number 1; No saying I Love You. Rule Number 2; No kissing. Not under any circumstances. And Rule Number 3; No catching feelings.”

“Easy peasy,” He chuckled. He didn’t understand why you were so paranoid. There was no way he was going to let them set you up with one of their awful picks for you. No, you deserved better than that. So he’d follow your rules, and he’d save the day if it killed him.

The rest of the drive consisted of him playing music, and the two of you joking around like nothing was any different than it had been from the beginning. But you couldn’t ignore the way your heart stuttered when he’d jokingly call you by those stupid affectionate names, or the way your cheeks burned under his attention. The tension and worry lingered, thinly veiled by his stupid knock knock hokes and classic rock.

It was mid afternoon by the time you pulled into your parents driveway. You were helping Pietro unload the boatload of presents you’d brought along for your family when your older sister came racing out of the house. She squealed and bundled you up into a tight hug like you hadn’t seen each other in years.

“You brought a boy,” She noted as she stepped back, hugging herself against the cold. You bit your lip and nodded a little.

“Stevie, this is Pietro. Pietro, my big sister Stevie.” You stepped back and glanced at Pietro. He had the most dazzling smile on his lips, one that made your stomach flutter. And Stevie certainly seemed charmed enough.

“So you really do have a boyfriend. I was beginning to think he was fake,” She teased. You and Pietro shared a look and he seemed to be barely stifling his laughter. You glared, a silent warning to keep his mouth shut. “They barely told us anything about you. I can see why they were keeping you a secret, if I didn’t have Adam I’d be stealing you away.”

“Well, good thing we’re here for a couple of days. You guys can get to know everything about each other. But can we pretty please get this stuff inside before it gets nasty out here?” You begged, readjusting the armful of gifts you’d grabbed. Pietro huffed and took them easily.

“I can get them, don’t worry.” He insisted. You hesitated a little but he was already following your sister inside. So you grabbed your bag from the back and closed the car up to join them inside.

Once you walked in, you were met by the smell of baked goods wafting out the door. You kicked your shoes off and set your bag down by the stairs. Your family had already stolen your boyfriend- fake boyfriend- by the time you slipped into the kitchen.

“Your favorite kid just got home, but all you care about is the new boyfriend, huh?” You teased, sliding up to hug your dad, then your mom. Pietro sort of liked the way it sounded when you said that. Boyfriend. He knew he wasn’t really the boyfriend, but it was a nice thought.

“You didn’t tell us he was so handsome,” Your mom chided, giving your shoulders a squeeze. Your face flared hot and you glanced at Pietro.

“Don’t worry about me. Your family is great, they’re already trying to feed me.” He smirked. Truthfully he seemed oddly comfortable in the role, but you were glad he wasn’t freaking out. Of course for the sake of not having to date someone with a stick up their ass. But the fact that he was giving you his usual laid-back grin didn’t hurt.

“Why don’t you two go up to your room and get settled in. Dinner will be done soon. (Y/N), your old room is all set up for you two.” Your mom cooed, turning back to the food she was working on. You glanced towards the stairs.

“He’s sleeping in my room? With me?” You asked, glancing between faces. You were used to sharing a room with your sister on the holidays and whatever guys you brought along were usually put into her old room. You supposed that changed now that she was properly engaged.

“Well duh. Adam’s sleeping in my room when he gets here.” Stevie answered. You gave a tiny nod. Made sense. You grabbed your bags and nodded for Pietro to follow you upstairs. He gave a smile to your family and let you lead the way to your bedroom.

Once the door was shut, you groaned and leaned back against it. Once again you were asking yourself the same question. Just what had you gotten yourself into. The idea of pretending to be in love with Pietro was one thing. But now you’d be sleeping in the same probably too-small bed for three nights. That must have been crossing some sort of line. You could sleep on the floor. It was hardwood but you were pretty sure you’d survive it. Or maybe you could take turns.

“Piet, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t think they’d put us in here together.” You sighed. Pietro was too busy perusing your room to really think too much of it. There were still a few pictures decorating the back of the door of you and your family and friends. A couple band posters were left up, and there was a stack of books in the corner. “But now that Stevie and Adam are actually engaged...I’m sorry.”

“Chill, it’s no big deal.” He sat at the edge of your bed and you nodded. It was nice seeing him settle so easily into a space that used to be strictly yours. You supposed it wasn’t so bad to share it with him.

The evening passed much faster than you had expected. The worst part was dinner. Your future brother-in-law had shown up which helped to ease some of the tension. But nevertheless your family was all over Pietro. He reached over and gave your hand a squeeze as you sat down, and you knew he’d never let you down.

Throughout the meal, he complimented your mom’s cooking. He talked about his classes, and about being on the track and field team at his college. Within minutes he had everyone eating out of the palm of his hand.

The most startling part was just the way he talked about you. The way he’d just look at you for so long that it would make your throat go dry, or the way he’d beam when asked about the two of you.

“I just knew when I first saw them that no one else could compare. I love them,” He’d said. And he’d looked at you like he never wanted to look away. Your stomach did somersaults and you’d focused on the mashed potatoes you were poking at.

Strike one.

Once dinner had come to a close, you and your sister worked at clearing the table. Your mom ushered the boys towards the living room to relax while the three of you worked on cleanup. You carried an armful of dishes into the kitchen, depositing them on the counter and drawing up some dish water, but not before flashing Pietro an apologetic smile. He just winked and slipped away.

You stared into the sink, watching the suds as they foamed up. Maybe asking Pietro along was a bad idea. Your dad was becoming pretty buddy-buddy with him, and your mother seemed to adore him already. Your fake breakup was probably going to be harder for them than it was for you.

“So,” Stevie set a last stack of dishes on the counter and smirked. “Pietro is really something, huh?”

You chewed on your lip, giving your full attention to the dishes you were scrubbing clean.

“He’s sweet. And he seems pretty in love with you,” Your mom added. And just like that your heart was leaping back into your throat. Who knew Pietro Maximoff was such a good actor? And who knew you cared so much?

“Yeah, he’s pretty great isn’t he?” You smiled, a sick sort of despair clogging in your chest. “Too good to be true,”

With the three of you working together, the cleaning went by in a jiffy. Soon enough you were settling in the living room with the others. You sat on the couch beside Pietro as they all continued their discussion.

You tried not to tense up as he pulled you closer by your waist without so much as a glance. You slowly relaxed and snuggled even closer. Your head rested against his chest like it was meant to be there, and your arm found its way around him. He was warm, that was all, and he smelled nice...You were selling it, nothing more. Just selling it, even as his fingers moved to play with your hair.

“It’s getting late. You four had a long day, we should all get some rest.” Your dad decided. And with the way you were half asleep in Pietro’s arms, you couldn’t argue.

He carefully maneuvered you off of him so he could stand up. You weren’t sure when the two of you had started holding hands, but yours was clutched firmly in his, fingers intertwined as he pulled you to your feet.

“C’mon baby, you’re sleepy.” He mumbled. You nodded and said your goodnights to everyone before letting him lead you up the stairs. You slipped into your room and dug through your bag for your sleep clothes. Once you’d pulled them out you glanced up at Pietro. He chuckled and turned his back.

Once the both of you had changed, you laid yourself down, watching and waiting for Pietro to join you. The silence as he climbed into the bed was heavy, both of you deep in your thoughts and being exceptionally careful not to cross any lines or take up too much space. You were hyper aware of every breath you took, and of every miniscule brush of skin.

You did not have feelings for him. Sure he was handsome, and considerate. Not to mention how funny he was, and the way he fit in with your family better than anyone else you’d brought home. But it was cliche. He was your best friend’s brother. He was Pietro for fucks sake. Falling for him just wasn’t in the cards.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, or moving a muscle all night, but you woke up in a mess of tangled limbs. He’d slung his arm around your waist and nestled into your chest, and you had flipped your leg over his. He was warm, and you could feel his breath tickling against your neck. That alone had your heart rate flying through the roof.

You were careful not to wake him as you slipped out of bed. He shifted and you froze until you were sure he’d fallen back into his deep slumber. You took a moment, just admiring him all sweet and conked out, his hair a mess and a tiny bit of drool slipping past his lips. Gross. But adorable.

You got ready for the rest of the day and slipped downstairs to find your mom and sister back in the kitchen working on a breakfast spread. You leaned against the door. You could hear Adam and your dad chatting from the living room.

“Want a hand?” You asked. Your mom smiled at you.

“We didn’t want to bother you guys. Where’s the other lovebird?”

You rolled your eyes, but it was too late to hide your smile.

“Still sleeping. I thought I’d let him catch a little extra shut eye.” You explained, moving to help set the table while they cooked. Nobody said much after that, just talking about all of the family gossip you’d missed out on while you were away.

Meanwhile, your mind was drifting to all the ways you could make this up to Pietro. You didn’t have the opportunity to think much on it as he came down the stairs.

He was still tired, you could tell. But his hair was wet from a shower, and he’d changed into a charmingly ugly sweater that clashed with his usual vibes. It was endearing, you couldn’t deny that. He moved to stand by you, arm wrapping around your waist and his hand landing on your hip.

“Good morning to you too, sleepyhead.” You teased. He laughed quietly, but then he pouted.

“You left me.” You smiled and leaned your head against his shoulder.

“You just looked so peaceful. Plus I wasn’t ready to deal with you yet.” You dodged away from him as he tried to grab at you, giggling and stealing away into the kitchen again to grab the platter of pancakes. Your mom and Stevie shared a knowing look that you disregarded.

Breakfast, much like dinner, had gone without a hitch. The two of you bantered the way you always did. He stole a bite from your plate, and you took a drink from his cup in retaliation. As he finished eating, his hand found yours. You gave him a puzzled look, and he simply slotted his fingers in between yours.

The conversation lasted until everyone was finished. Then everyone was ushered to the living room for the gift opening. You and Pietro were still hand in hand when your mom stopped you in your tracks. You were about to question why when Pietro guided you to face him by your hips. Your hands pressed against his - rather firm - chest.

“Mistletoe,” He whispered. Your eyes flicked up, then back to his.You were suddenly very warm. You had rules, and this was seriously not fair. You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Both of you were fairly willing to call that good. Stevie, however, was most certainly not.

“That’s pathetic. Give him a real one. It’s Christmas, (Y/N)!” She argued. You looked at her, then back only to find that he hadn’t looked away from you.

“Yeah, baby. It’s Christmas.” He half-teased, hoping to ease some of the building tension. You thought on it, considering shattering what was left of your rule into pieces. But before your flustered mind could come to any sort of decision, you were being kissed.

You curled your hands into the front of his sweater, and melted against his lips. They were softer than you’d expected, and the kiss was much less demanding than you had thought it would be. When you pulled away, he brushed his thumb over your jaw.

“Sorry,” He whispered. You shook your head, but you still couldn’t look him in the eye. The urge to feel his lips against yours was a little too strong, and who knew what you’d do if he kept looking at you like that. You pressed your lips together like you could forget his taste.

“Don’t be.”

Strike two.

The gift exchange was exceptionally uneventful after the mistletoe ordeal. Your mind was still wading through the fog when your mom opened the last of the gifts. You were all about to sort everything out and pack your gifts with your things when Pietro spoke.

“Oh, I almost forgot something. Stay put.” He carefully freed himself from where you’d been leaning against him and headed for the stairs. You sat patiently, sharing curious looks around the room. You hadn’t talked about presents.

He only took a moment, coming back with a small box wrapped neatly in pale blue paper. You figured that was Wanda’s doing.

“Here. I don’t know if you’ll like it but…” He passed you the gift, and you smiled at him. You stared at the little box for a long moment before you finally took off the paper. You didn’t notice all the attention shifting to the two of you as you took the lid off.

“Oh my god, Pietro,” You gasped, your hand moving to cover your mouth. Inside was a stunning silver bracelet with several little charms on it. You carefully picked it up and worried each charm between your fingertips. “You shouldn’t have. I didn’t get you anything.”

“You didn’t need to. Look, this one is for that iHop trip, remember? And this one is for the when Wanda introduced us at the beach. And this one is for the butterfly exhibit you made me take you to. Oh, and this is for this trip, see?” He rambled. Tears pricked at your eyes and you giggled. You were in so deep, and the bracelet must have cost him a fortune.

“Put it on me?” You looked up at him and he nodded. There was a pause as he took the bracelet from you and fastened it around your wrist. You admired it with a lovesick grin.

“I’m in love with you.” He spoke firmly, and your heart skipped a beat.

“I love you too, Piet.” You slid your hand into his and he looked down at how nicely your hand fit into his. Like you were meant to be.

“I don’t want this to end,” He locked eyes with you again, praying that you really understood what he meant. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to build up the confidence to confess all over again if you didn’t. But he didn’t need to worry about that. You lifted your hand to cup his cheek.

“Then I’m yours forever, Maximoff.”

Strike three.

And there was so much to talk about, but in that moment none of it mattered. Not when the pretending was finally over, and you were having the best Christmas of your entire life.

[fanficshiddles]

Tear You To Pieces, Chapter 9

Kelly shut the curtains as soon as she got into the rather shabby B&B room. But it was the best she could afford in the meantime, she had no idea how long she was going to have to be on the run for, so didn’t want to blow all of her money too quickly.

She’d managed to budget herself to last on the run for around a year. She had to include hair dye into the monthly budget. As even though it had been two months, she had no idea if Loki was still looking for her or not, so she only went out in disguise to be on the safe side.

She was still not over what happened, what was still happening. And she knew it was all her fault, she would never be able to get over it. She had unleashed the monster, literally.

Not bothering to turn the TV on, she just got into bed and tried not to think about it all. The news was always filled with Loki now, and how he was conquering the world. Country after country was flocking to kneel under Loki’s rule. Otherwise, he was slaying every country that dared to defy him. Which soon brought them to heel, before they lost everyone.

Kelly was really jumpy, every noise right outside her room had her entire body going ridged, expecting the worst. It took her heart a while to stop racing after each noise. She knew she couldn’t carry on living like this, but she didn’t know what else to do.

Turning onto her side she curled up and cried herself to sleep, like she did every night. But her sleep was never peaceful, it was always laced with nightmares. Always of him. Most of the time, he was looming over her with her sisters’ body at his feet.

She woke up in a sweat, calling out for her sister. How she wished everything was just a nightmare, but no. She was living a nightmare.

Keeping on the move was her plan, so since she was awake anyway, even though it was only five in the morning, she decided to move on to the next place to stay. She had made it all the way up to Edinburgh by foot mainly but also a couple of bus trips. She just kept moving around from city to city, town to town. Wherever she could get to.

As Kelly made her way down the road, there was just a few people going about at that time of the morning. But she kept getting shivers down her spine, and not from the cold. It was like someone was watching her…

When she looked round over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of a tall, black-haired man amongst a small crowd of early risers heading to work. Her heart started racing in fear, thinking it was Loki, she quickly moved on and walked as fast as she could. When she glanced back in the direction of the man, there was no sign of him anymore.

She tried to shake it off, thinking it had just been her imagination. Surely if it had been Loki, he would’ve made his presence more known.

But as she made her way further into the centre of the city, she still had a really bad feeling that she was being followed. So she rushed into the bus station and bought a ticket to head further North, maybe if she headed out of the cities and tried the quieter villages, she might be able to stay under the radar better.

Just before she was able to pay for her ticket, there was sudden screaming and panic within the station.

‘What the…’ She looked around in confusion, but then she felt pure dread run through her veins as she saw the reason for the panic and chaos.

Loki.

He had stormed into the station in his regal armour, the biggest grin formed on his face when he locked eyes on Kelly.

‘No…’ She gasped out quietly, her legs suddenly turned to jelly as she tried to run with the others that were panicking.

Loki made his way towards Kelly straight away, with large purposeful strides as he towered above everyone else that was scarpering around him in terror.

She started running for the back exit, but Loki reached out towards her and Kelly suddenly felt as if there was a collar around her neck that was suddenly pulling her backwards towards him. She brought her hands up to her neck but couldn’t feel anything there, but there was definitely something pulling her back.

She panicked and screamed as she was dragged back towards Loki, who had stopped and was just pulling her towards him. When she was within grabbing distance, the invisible collar disappeared and she felt like she could run again.

But she was within striking distance. And Loki struck like a snake, grabbing her he forced her to the nearest wall and pinned her against it, his large dominant hand wrapped around her neck firmly. Her lower lip was trembling in fear as he sneered down at her, she tried clawing at his arm but it was futile.

‘Mmmm, I finally found you.’ Loki hummed low and squeezed her neck a bit harder in warning when she continued trying to struggle.

‘Plea… please… Let me go.’ She stuttered out between trying to take big breaths, his hand controlling her breathing wasn’t making it easy to talk.

‘Oh no, my little pet. You should be begging for my forgiveness, for that little stunt of running away from me. You have no idea how much of an inconvenience it was when I came to collect you, to find you gone. Ungrateful mortal.’ He growled, squeezing her neck again for a few seconds, making her splutter.

He could see the pure fear in her eyes.

‘However.’ He purred, easing up a little on his grip he rubbed his thumb up and down the side of her neck. ‘I wouldn’t be in the position I am now if it hadn’t been for you. And whilst I should punish you for being a naughty girl and disobeying me, I will give you the benefit of the doubt. This time. Because I know you’re my good girl really, aren’t you?’

Kelly closed her eyes and tried to tune him out. But of course, that could never happen.

‘Look at me!’ He demanded and squeezed her neck again, making her eyes fly open.

‘Maybe once I get you home, you’ll be more talkative. And I shall give you your reward, and finally claim what you owe me.’ His eyes darkened and he smirked, then leaned in and kissed her on the lips, despite her trying to move her head away to no avail.

She had no choice but to endure his lips moving against hers, he was surprisingly gentle, yet there was an urgency within him too. A very deep part of her was longing at his kiss, like it was a reminder of what she thought they once had… But she remembered that had all been fake, Loki had used her.

Loki pulled back slightly, licking his lips. ‘Now come, pet. Let me show you your new home.’ He grinned wickedly and released her neck.

But before she could even think about trying to run, a collar formed around her neck. Only this time it wasn’t invisible, she could feel it too with her hands as she tried pulling it off. There was a chain leash attached to it that Loki held, so she was going nowhere.

‘Come on.’ Loki growled and tugged her along as he headed out the main entrance.

When they stepped outside, some civilians that saw Loki started kneeling for him instantly. Some ran away. But Loki didn’t care about any of them, he had what he wanted.

Kelly couldn’t stop shaking and crying as Loki slipped his arm around her waist and held her in close, then teleported them both to the airport where Loki had a jet waiting for them. He hauled Kelly onto it, she wasn’t sure why she was even trying to still get away, she knew there was no chance.

Loki had the leash vanish, but the collar remained. As soon as it was off, she ran as far back in the jet as possible and cowered down in the corner. Loki chuckled and took a seat near the front, looking very pleased with himself.

‘There is a much comfier seat down here for you, pet. It might be a bumpy ride.’ Loki called back to her as the jet started off down the runway.

But Kelly was quite happy where she was, as far away from Loki as she possibly could be between some seats. Though she knew it wouldn’t be for long, the jet was already taking off into the sky. She didn’t know exactly where home was for Loki. She really didn’t want to know.

‘You know, it has been ok since I’ve been ruling your world. Not quite as fun and exciting as I had originally hoped, but I realised it’s been because I’ve been chasing you. Now that I’ve found you, the real fun can begin.’ Loki said casually as he opened a bag of salted nuts.

Kelly shivered at his tone and words, she didn’t want to know what he meant by that.

It only took half an hour to get to their destination. But it had felt more like ten hours for Kelly, with Loki trying to make small talk the whole way there, as if nothing was wrong. As if she was there of her own accord.

‘Isn’t this a delightful sight.’ Loki chuckled, looking out of the window.

Kelly was curious as to where she was. So she slowly moved onto her knees and leaned up on one of the seats to look out the window. Her eyes widened at what she saw.

They were coming to land in New York, but it wasn’t the New York she remembered.

For starters, where The Statue Of Liberty should be, was replaced with a ten times larger statue of Loki himself. Then as they headed into the city, where the Avengers tower used to be, a new tower was built. But it was much larger too, and on the side of it was Loki’s name in bright gold letters.

‘No… No.’ She sobbed and put her hand over her mouth in horror.

[fanmoose12]

a small thing i've written, a companion piece to the devil you know. doesn't really takes place during the timeline of that fic, but i just liked the idea so much (thanks @unrelenting-jazz-hands smh) that still decided to write it! slight nsfw ahead!

If that was one of Armin's jokes, it was a terrible one.

Watch over him while I figure out what to do, he said, as though Levi could look at that monster without feeling like running through something - or better yet, someone- with a sword.

"Can I ask you a personal question, Captain?" the beast asked from his place inside the cell. Levi answered him with a deadly glare that Zeke simply ignored. He was getting too comfortable around him, the bastard.

"I know you and Professor Hange had quite a history, but I’ve always wondered…" the fucker smirked, and Levi's hands instinctively curled into fists. "Was it strictly platonic? If so, I must say it’s quite a loss on your part. She’s very good in bed."

Levi reacted instantly.

The asshole stood too close to the bars that separated them. Big mistake. Levi grabbed him by the collar, bringing the beast down to his eye level. Zeke choked, his eyes open wide.

"You think our so called alliance means something to me? I’ve agreed to keep you alive, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you. And if I hear her name coming out of your shitty mouth one more time, beast, you'll be gathering your bones all over this cell. I hope I made myself clear enough. I hate repeating the obvious."

He threw him on the ground, and the sight of Zeke looking so miserable with his ass on the floor almost lifted his sour mood.

Almost because the fucker's words were still ringing in his ears.

He had no reason to care, she certainly didn't, but god, did Zeke's words strike a chord. He needed... he needed to take a deep breath. Clear his head, get his thoughts into order.

He marched out of the murky dungeon, leaving Zeke's cell behind.

Subconsciously, because his mind was his biggest offender, so very soon Levi found himself standing in front of another cell.

Jean was inside, discussing something with her in hushed tones.

This almost made him stop - the hell Kirshtein was doing there? Didn't he use to despise her? Wasn't he the one who shouted 'fucking betrayer' the loudest?

Didn't matter, not now. Now the only thing that mattered—

"Get out, Kirshtein," he yanked the boy upwards, his eyes never leaving those deep brown ones.

"Captain—"

"Get. Out." he growled. "And make sure no one comes in here. I need to have a chat with our prisoner. A very long one. "

"Captain, I—"

"Hurry up, Kirshtein," he reminded, shifting his gaze for a second to glare at him.

Jean seemed unsure, Jean seemed scared, but he didn't dare to disobey.

He threw a cautious look to Hange, and she gave him a kind smile, silently telling him that she had everything under control.

It was cute of her to think this way. It was also very wrong.

All thirty two seconds it took Jean to leave the dungeons, Levi didn't take his eyes of her. Hange stared right back, completely unsuspecting. Or, maybe - more probably - daring beyond realms of sanity.

As soon as he heard the door closed, Levi moved. He lifted her from the chair she was sitting on, slamming her hips against the table. The old wood creaked, and somewhere at the back of his mind he wondered if the shitty furniture would break under their weight. Even if it did, it wasn't enough to make him stop.

He grabbed the back of her head, burying his fingers in her hair, and kissed her. The kiss was rough, aggressive and deep. Hange answered with the same vigor, pulling him even closer.

It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did. But having her back in his arms made him feel whole.

The place, where she had put her hands, burned. Her touch was just as intoxicating, just as invigorating as he remembered. It almost made him forget. It made pretending almost possible.

If he just turned off the sensible part of his brain, he could pretend that everything was fine. They weren't making out on a rackety table in a dusty dungeon inside a prison cell where Hange was put for betraying them.

No, they were in her room, and he had come to distract Hange away from work and catch up on all the time they’ve been too busy to see each other.

Gripping her waist tighter, he could almost pretend that he was angry at her for making him feel neglected, not betraying him and having his heart ripped out and smashed into million pieces.

"Does he make you feel so good?" he demanded to know, moving down to bite at the spot he knew made her tremble.

"Wh- what-"

She was already stuttering, already breathing hard against him. Good, he was almost satisfied.

But after four years of trying to hate and despise her, after four years of yearning for her, he needed more.

"Does he?" he repeated, taking his lips of her for a second to stare into her eyes.

"No," Hange breathed out. With fingers that had no right to be so gentle, she cradled his face. "No one made me feel as good as you did, Levi."

Fuck.

He wanted to hate her, he thought he did, but just the sound of his voice on her lips, and he was coming undone.

"Say it again," he whispered, his voice muffled by her shoulder. He meant for it to come out as an order. It sounded more like a plea instead.

"What?" she asked, her fingers softly playing with his hair.

"My name," he closed his eyes. Her scent, her touch, her voice - it was all too much. "Say it again."

"Levi," Hange kissed him, starting with his lips then moving lower, forcing him to throw back his head and press his lips together. "Levi," she murmured against the skin of his neck. "Le-"

He didn't let her finish. His lips on hers prevented it. It was time to take some of the control back.

He straddled her hips, making a slight rocking motion.

Hange reacted to it instantly. "Levi."

The way she moaned it - it was enough to make him moan too.

"God, I missed this," she hummed, as he nipped at her neck.

Levi froze, moving up to look her in the eyes. "You did?" the question stumbled from his lips before he could stop himself.

He knew Hange most certainly didn't mean it. People tended to say stupid things during heat of the moment. It wasn't love that put those words out, it was lust. And as a child of a prostitute, raised in underground brothel, he knew very well that those things didn't always overlap.

Certainly not in their case.

"Of course, I did," Hange answered. She tugged at his hair, stopping him from sucking a hickey on her collarbone. She made him look at her, and what he saw on her face was enough to break his heart for the thousandth times. Hange looked... Hange looked sincere. Hange looked like she meant it. Hange looked... Like she cared about him. "I missed you, Levi," she murmured, curving her lips in a smile.

It was the first smile he had seen on her face ever since she had left. The sight of it left him more breathless than their previous activities.

And they call us devils, he thought.

If he was the devil, then she was a witch.

How else to explain her ability to bewitch him like this?

He pushed her down onto the table, pressing her to the hard surface. Hange didn't seem to mind the rough treatment, if her moans and whimpers were any indication.

His hands roamed over her body, touching in all the right places, spots that made her even more desperate.

His name tumbled from her lips over and over again, making him dizzy.

He left bruises and bite marks whenever he touched. She wasn't his, never was, but, god, pretending that she was was extremely addicting.

Hange wasn't gentle as well. She grabbed, bit and sucked whatever part of skin Levi had allowed her to.

"Tell me, Levi," she left a wet kiss on his cheek, moving to his ear. "Did you do it with someone else while I was away?"

Witch.

He pushed her down again, flipping her over and pressing her face into the table.

"Shut your fucking mouth, Hange," he growled, covering her body with his. He grabbed her wrists, keeping them together. "Don't you dare to move."

Hange, like a fucking psycho she always pretended to be, started laughing.

"Levi!" she moaned, as he bit down on her shoulder. "We should do this more often!"

"This is the last time, four-eyes," he promised, subconsciously using the old, affectionate nickname.

Hange laughed again, turning her head around to give him a sly, knowing look.

"The last fucking time," he repeated.

He came back the very next day.

[noodlecupcakeswritings]

Saviour - Kylo RenxOC (Demon AU) Halloween Challenge 2021

kylo Ren has been summoned from the depths of hell. Rescuing the terrified Sister, he strikes up a deal to ensure her protection. But will she agree and turn her back on her faith?

Week 4 of my Halloween challenge and this week's theme was demons. This is the final week of the challenge, hope you all enjoyed.

Hope you guys enjoy, please leave kudos, comments and reblogs if you do.

Warnings: Religious themes, Nun/Demon sex, Sex, Smut, Vaginal sex, Vaginal fingering, Oral sex, Rituals, Blood, Gore, Violence, Loss of virginity, Corruption kink, Demon deals, Demon summoning

Cora

Exiting the monastery, I quickly headed into the nearby woods to meet with Father Hux. He’d confided in me earlier about the orphans staying in the woods and how they needed food and blankets. As a previous orphan myself, I wanted to do anything I could to help. I lifted my lantern higher so I could see better as I followed the path. The woods were always more frightening at night; it was too quiet, too many shadows. But with God on my side, I knew I would be safe from harm. I lifted my other hand to the rosary around my neck, praying under my breath.

Eventually I saw a figure up ahead, the ginger hair of Father Hux unmistakable even in the dark. Relief filled me at the sight of a familiar face. I joined him in the clearing, glancing around for signs of the orphans he’d mentioned. “Sister, I’m so glad you could make it,” Hux greeted. “Of course, I’m glad to help.” Hux smiled and took the basket from me, setting it down to the side. “You can come out now, it’s just my friend,” Hux called to them.

Instead of children, a group of hooded men came out from the trees and bushes instead. A feeling of dread formed in the pit of my stomach, were we about to be robbed? “Restrain her,” Hux ordered. My fear had glued me to the spot and by the time they reached me, it was too late to run. I tried to scream, but the realization that nobody was coming to save me soon set in. My wrists were bound behind my back before they tied my ankles together. Tears rolled down my cheeks as my cloak was torn from me and I was forced to the floor.

“Why are you doing this?” I whimpered. “We needed a pure sacrifice and what better than a nun,” Hux answered with a soft shrug. Sacrifice? I’d been warned about devil worship, I had heard stories of their rituals and sacrifices. But why was this happening to me? I couldn’t think of anything I had done that might evoke God’s wrath, I hadn’t sinned; I hadn’t strayed from his path. I didn’t deserve a fate such as this. And what cut deeper was I had been deceived by someone I trusted. Father Hux had never given me reason to doubt or mistrust him, he’d always been kind and helpful.

The men looked to Hux for further instructions, for the next step in the ritual. Hux produced a blade from his robes in response. The men held out their palms and allowed Hux to slice their skin open before they spilled their blood on the ground. Hux cut his own palm before stepping closer to me. Silently I prayed, prayed for forgiveness, a saviour, divine intervention, an angel, anything that could save me. The other men formed a circle around us, one of them striking a match and throwing it to the floor. Fire surrounded us, with no escape in sight. My crying turned to sobbing at the realization I was going to die. “Please, don’t do this,” I begged.

Hux ignored my pleas as the others began a chant in a language I didn’t recognize. Hux rolled me on to my back, kneeling by my side. He joined in with the chant, raising the dagger high above his head. I closed my eyes, as if to shield myself from my own fate. I continued to repeat the lord’s prayer over and over in my head, waiting for the pain to come. Instead came a low rumbling noise from the ground, slowly growing louder with every passing second. It soon sounded like the ground was opening up and something was emerging. I kept my eyes closed, too afraid to look. Was I about to be dragged down to the fiery pits of hell for an eternity of suffering?

The heat from the flames seemed to fade as if they had been extinguished and no longer was Hux holding me down. Hesitantly, I opened my eyes, taking in my surroundings. I was still alive, still in the forest. Hux was wide eyed staring at something behind me. If Hux was afraid of what he had summoned, I could only imagine how horrifying it was. The thing behind me took off to the left instead, attacking one of Hux’s men. A blood-curdling scream filled the air, and I prayed aloud. Hux glanced between me and the forest before getting to his feet and running as far as he could. Coward. The forest was filled with more screams, sounds of flesh tearing and bones breaking.

I wriggled into a better position and began trying to put some distance between myself and the carnage. The forest fell silent again. Now sitting up, I took in the scene before me. The five men who helped with the ritual were now dead, their blood straining the grass, their limbs and bodies strewn across the clearing haphazardly. There was a soft growl from behind me, my head turning in that direction to finally gaze upon the beast. There, towering over me at seven feet tall, stood a demon. The moonlight allowed me to see its features. Two great black horns sat atop its head, curling back on themselves, although the left one was missing the tip as if it had been broken off. Thick black hair stopped beneath its chin. The creature studied me with black eyes, a scar streaked across its face.

Its fangs were bared, its hands were claw like. And as my gaze continued its descent, I soon realized it was naked. I looked away, resuming my praying, and trying to shift away. I didn’t get far thanks to the bindings, now on my back and facing the demon. He crouched, cocking his head as he watched me. The thing was likely toying with me. “I’m not going to kill a beautiful thing like you,” it spoke, its voice deep. “Then w-what are you going to do to me?” I asked, my voice coming out small and pathetic. The demon came closer, as if to get a better look at me. And now I could get a better look at it. And now I understood why they had warned me the devil would be beautiful. It must be like that for all his demons.

The demon smirked softly before snapping his fingers. Somehow, my bonds became loose, and I slipped my wrists free before working on my legs. He’d freed me, I didn’t understand why. But what really didn’t make sense was how he was here when I hadn’t been sacrificed. “I thought I had to die for you to be summoned?” I questioned. “Virgin blood had been spilled. Although the culprit seems to have run off like a coward.” Oh. Anger filled me at the thought the Hux had gotten away with this, he should have died too so he could face God’s judgement. But I became uneasy once more as I noticed the demon hadn’t answered my previous question.

“I won’t tell anyone about you at the church, I swear it,” I promised, hoping that would be enough to convince it. “You think it wise to go back there after this? The man who tried to kill you will also likely return there and if he finds out you're alive, he’ll have to make sure you stay quiet or risk exposure.” My shoulders slumped as I realized he was right. If Hux and I both went back, Hux would kill me to ensure his secret stayed safe. I couldn’t go back, but I had nowhere else to go. Fresh tears lined my eyes for the third time tonight.

“Shhh, not all is lost. I could help you. Again,” the demon offered. Again? Well, I suppose he had ensured I was spared just by his mere presence. But making a deal with a demon was a dangerous path that I wouldn’t go down, no matter how desperate. “I prayed for a saviour-“ I started. “And here I am,” he smirked cockily. It felt like my faith was crumbling before my eyes; it didn’t make sense for God to send me a demon instead of an angel. It didn’t make sense for a man of the cloth to have tried to kill me tonight, either. Had God abandoned me? And if he had, I would truly have nothing. My gaze settled on the demon again, perhaps he could help me after all.

I hugged my knees to my chest to try and comfort myself, to calm my racing thoughts. The demon sighed, his expression becoming sympathetic. “You’ve had a stressful night so much, so it’s making you question your faith. I’m probably not helping matters. So let’s start over. I’m Kylo,” he introduced, offering me his clawed hand. “Cora,” I replied, hesitantly shaking its hand. “Now, don’t feel too disheartened. You prayed for a saviour, likely an angel in mind. Well, demons were once angels. So technically you got what you wanted.” I suppose that made some sense, although it did little to make me feel better about the situation.

“You said you could help me,” I said hesitantly. Kylo grinned wolfishly, “I did. I can kill that coward for you, ensure your safety. But I’ll need something in return.” The way his eyes trailed over my body told me what he wanted in return. My innocence. A vow that I had sworn never to break in return for my veil. “No, I can’t give you…that. There must be something else, anything else,” I spoke. “What else could you have to offer me but your purity? What else has more value to me than your innocence?”

Nothing. Kylo leaned in closer, his hand cupping my cheek as his thumb traced the curve of my lips. A heat spread across my cheeks, I could catch his thumb if I wanted too, if I was bold enough. “Aren’t you all created in God’s image? Do you think God doesn’t indulge in such pleasures and desires?” Kylo questioned. I chewed my lip; he had a point. Kylo’s lips were now inches from mine, the tension between us growing. “Give in, Sister. I cannot take what isn’t offered,” he said.

With no other choice, I succumbed to my desire as I closed the gap between us to kiss him. Kylo smiled, taking control of the kiss because of my inexperience. The kiss brought a new heat between my legs as he sealed the deal with his tongue. I half expected him to tear my habit and veil from me, but he took his time, seemingly doing things on my terms. Kylo continued to kiss me slowly and passionately, one hand wrapping around my waist to pull me closer. Never had I felt such desire, such arousal before. The heat between my legs had grown into an ache, and I needed his hands all over me.

I set aside my veil alongside my vows, revealing my long black hair to him. Kylo ran his fingers through it with a soft smile as I continued to give myself to him in a way that no mortal man would have me. Kylo descended down my body, pushing my skirts up over my hips as he positioned himself between my legs. He trailed his lips up my inner thigh, my hips bucking softly. Kylo smirked, pulling my panties down my legs before kissing me where I needed it most. He watched me with those inky black eyes as his tongue delved between my lips to taste me.

I moaned at the new pleasurable sensation, throwing my head back. I never imagined I could be pleasured in such ways. Kylo lapped at me hungrily, groaning at my taste. The sound had me blushing, but further aroused. I had always been taught sex was purely for male pleasure and making children that I wondered if women could feel pleasure at all. Kylo’s tongue was proving otherwise, proving the lies my faith had blinded me with. He hoisted my legs over my shoulders before I felt two human fingers at my entrance instead of his claws, perhaps he had partially changed his form. Slowly, he pushed his fingers into me, making a come-hither motion.

My pleasure only grew at the addition of his fingers, forcing louder moans from me. A tightness formed in my belly, growing tighter with every passing second, as did my pleasure. Until finally the tightness burst, and the pleasure became overwhelming. I cried out, my nails digging into the soil beneath me. The euphoria continued, stealing the air from my lungs. Was I dying? Was this what heaven felt like? Either way, I longed for that pleasure again. The feeling slowed before passing, only then did Kylo stop. He made his way back up to my lips, smirking softly. “Forbidden fruit always tastes better,” Kylo stated.

Positioned between my legs, I could feel his hard cock pressed against my wetness. If his tongue could bring me such pleasure, I wondered if his cock could do the same. Kylo grasped his cock at the base before pushing into me, slowly, so I could feel every thick inch of him sink into me. There was no pain like I had been taught, only new pleasures for me to explore and enjoy. Finally, he stopped, now buried to the hilt in my tightness. I had never imagined feeling such a fullness. I clung to him, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Please,” I breathed, unsure what I was begging for.

Only then did Kylo move, pulling out of me before pushing back in. He set a slow rhythm as my body still adjusted to the delicious stretch of his cock. The usual sounds of the forest were replaced by our gasps and moans, the moon bathing us in its light. “More, please,” I whined. Lust had completely consumed me, as had greed. I craved more; I needed all of him. Kylo’s pace increased, his hips smacking against mine. My nails dragged across his back, but the sting only seemed to spur him on as he captured my lips in a hungry kiss.

“Oh god, Kylo,” I moaned. “That’s right, Sister. I’m your God now.” Kylo bit at my neck, sucking the sensitive flesh there long enough to leave a mark. A mark that claimed me as his. He reached between our bodies, finding my sensitive bundle of nerves, and rubbing in slow circles. “Cum, Sister. Cum and seal the deal,” he encouraged. That feeling returned, building, and building before pleasure erupted and filled my veins once more. All I could do was moan and scream his name, truly renouncing my god for Kylo.

Kylo held me still as he pushed into me a final time with a guttural groan, filling me with his seed. After a few exchanged hot and heavy breaths, he pulled out and lay beside me. Suddenly I remembered myself, as if the hazy spell of lust had been lifted from me. Guilt consumed me as I fought back tears. I had lain with a demon; I had sinned in so many ways. God would not forgive this. Quickly, I replaced my veil and shakily got to my feet. “You will uphold your end of the deal?” I asked. “I will.”

Nodding, I made a start towards the path as Kylo got to his feet. Before I could get far, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. That feeling of dread filled me again, he wasn’t finished yet. “Where are you going, Sister?” He asked. “B-back to the monastery.” “They won’t allow you back now, they’ll smell the damnation on you. And how would you explain it when my seed takes root in you, makes your belly swell with my child? No, Sister. You're mine now.”

Taglist: @chaoticrambles​

[someone1348]

This duo request was fromm @blobblobbloblob

People in this: Switch!Tommy, Switch!Ranboo

(PLATONIC ONLYYYYY!!)

Tw: cursing

With all that being said enjoyyyy!! :]

___________~☆°♡°☆°♡°☆~______________

Ender Tricks

Ranboo had been feeling confident, sassy, to say the least, mischievous! He wanted to poke fun at people and cause a bit of chaos

So he went out on the hunt to find people to mess around with. He talked to Phil, Laughed with Techno, and that was great but it wasn't fulfilling his mood, the more he thought about what was going on with him the more the feeling grew

A ler mood, he smirked to himself, this was a rare kind of feeling but oh boy did he love these days when he could feel ler. No wonder talking to Phil and Tech didn't help he needed a lee or at least a lee lean.

Normally he would just go tickle the crap out of Tubbo but his body disagreed, no he needed to wreck someone else, he could wreck Tubbo later if this mood sticks throughout the day

He pondered the thought his smirk growing, Tommy!

The two had gotten closer as of recently and unknown to the blonde Ranboo had learned all of his tickle spots already from his platonic husband Tubbo, they share a death spot which really helped in times like this.

He searched for the disc lover spotting him by prime path

"Target acquired!" The enderman hybrid whispered to himself teleporting behind the said blonde squeezing his sides before teleporting away.

"AH- w-What the fuhuck?!" Tommy covered his mouth in embarrassment looking around for the known culprit

Ranboo smirked behind a tree and when the cost was clear he did it again this time skitering quickly under his arms

"AHAH- raha- ranboo!!!!" Tommy rang out in a fit of giggly rage almost dropping his axe

Ranboo covered his mouth behind the tree waiting again to strike. Tommy sighed and kept walking as lingering lee mood took over his senses with every strike

Ranboo smirked striking his ribs before going back, Tommy shrieked before falling down to the grass

Clutching his ribs giggling as the feeling of a lee mood took over everything he completely forgot why he was out here in the first place.

A shadow blocked the sun sending some shade to Tommy's figure, looking up at the smirking ender hybrid Tommy waved

"Hello Ranboo"

"Hey Tommy"

There was a bit of scilence as Tommy looked away, Ranboo laughed looming more over him

"You want to tell me what mood you're in buddy?"

Tommy squinted up at the figure crossing his arms "now Ranboo i don't know what you're talking about"

Ranboo lowly chuckled sitting down by Tommy smirking as he spoke "i can see it all over your face if you want tickles all you gotta do is ask" he poked Tommy's side to indicate his intentions

"Oh you're evilll"

Ranboo just kept smirking, whistling while he wiggled his fingers at the youngest acting like he wasn’t doing anything

"Ranbooo!" Tommy whined as Ranboo laughed stopping and looking at him, "Three words Tommy its eassyyy"

Tommy refused, he's a big man! He doesn't ever want to give into anyone's games esspesssily! Not Ranboo's,

Ranboo used that to his advantage as he teased the kid a bit more "Alright i guess you don't want to be tickled i guess I'll be offf" Ranboo teleported away as Tommy whined sitting up

"Ranboo wait!" He waited but there was no response, he was gone, Sitting alone in the grass he sighed before two tickly hands gripped his sides from behind tickling up and down from his sides to his ribs and back down

"Gotcha!!!" The taller of the two said the smirk clear in his voice as Tommy bursted out into a ball full of giggles falling backwards onto Ranboo's chest

"NAHAhahAHA! RANBOO!" Tommy squirmed his face dusted with a light pink from the surprise and embarrassment

"Hehe thought I'd leave my second favorite lee in the dust like that without tickling him to peices yeah i don't think so!" Ranboo smiled going up to his underarms,

"AYEHEHEHE! Sehehecond?!" Tommy questioned in giggles as Ranboo laughed a bit

"Yeah, Tubbo's number one, sorry pal, get Ranboozled!" He blew a raspberry onto the blondes neck as Tommy pushed at his split dyed head,

"AhAhaWahay!! From thehehere!!" Tommy fell limp to the tickles not fighting it anymore as Ranboo teasingly whispered

"Oh? Not there?~ so should i go for my favorite spot then" he wiggled his fingers teasingly above Tommy's stomach

"Nonononono!" Tommy's protests were nothing in Ranboo's ears as he smirked wiggling all ten fingers into his stomach taking a deep breath going close to Tommy's ear "Tickletickletickletickle Tktktktktktktk~"

"NAHAHAHAHA FUHUHUCK RAHAHAHANBOHOHOO!!"

Ranboo giggled evily "what's this button doo~" he tickled his bellybutton as Tommy went into hysteria not even making coherent sentences anymore

"RAHAHAHANBOHOHOO PLEA- HAHAHAHA SHHEJEHEGHS HAHAHAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAHA TIHIHICKLES IHIHIHIHIT!!-"

Ranboo laughed loudly, stopping before rubbing away the ghost tickles

"Oh whahat you think that was funny?!"

"W-well yeah"

Tommy smirked tackling the ender hybrid to the ground tickling his stomach immediately

"TOHOHOHOMYYY!!" Ranboo laughed out squirming from side to side

"Ticklish there aye Ranboo?~" Tommy smirked teasing him a bit

"PLEAHAHAHASE"

"Okahay okay!" Tommy giggled moving to his sides,

"EEP! wAIhihiAT i-Ee!!" Ranboo covered his face in his hands the ticklish sensations sending tickly Shockwaves all over his body

"WhAHat was that!!" Tommy said stopping

Ranboo blushed harder from the embarrassment "m-my white side is more ticklish then my black side so tickling my s-sides is well, an experience to say the least"

Tommy smirked "thanks for the info big man!" He immediately went to squeezing and tickling alll up and down his white side as the taller yelled

"AHJHA! TOMMYY!" the giggles were pouring out of his mouth as he pushed lightly at his tickly fingers

"Karma ender boy! Haha!!" Tommy tickled from his underarms to his ribs and back around to his sides

Ranboo made a bunch of enderman sounds mixed in with his laughter and squeals

"Okay okay oneee more thing!" Tommy took a deep breath before blowing a raspberry directly in the center of his stomach above his bellybutton

"TOHOHOHOMYYY!!!"

Tommy giggled stopping, helping ranboo up and rubbing the ghost tickles away.

"It seems we all share a death spot" Tommy said smirking a bit

"It seems we do"

Tommy smirked at ranboo before running off in the direction of were Tubbo would be

"He's MINE! HA HA!!!"

"HE'S MY PLATONIC HUSBAND!?!" Ranboo said chasing after him both on their way to wreck their favorite bee boy

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

I hope you all enjoyedd!!! :]

[angelamajiki]

[ here kitty kitty - dabi AKA todoroki touya ]

@orenjineki How about Catboydabi walking home with you and living in your place. Does whatever he wants, especially breeding you and always prepares you by licking you thoroughly.

CW: nsfw, noncon, animal hybrids, knotting, yandere

You were no stranger to taking in stray cats. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to keep letting them come back, but you didn’t mind. There were many frequent visitors on your front porch in the morning and evenings. They made appearances for food and to relieve themselves, but weren’t too keen on sticking around. Except for one. A large Burmese cat with a black coat and striking turquoise eyes.

After his fifth visit, you decided to give him a nickname as you did with all the other frequenters. Eventually, he was settled as Dabi. The poor thing was so skinny when he first arrived that you gave him a little extra love and kibble. He liked to come inside, a rare opportunity with the others, and curl up on your lap whenever you decided to relax for the evening.

You decided to domesticate and keep him after he stayed in your home for a few weeks with no signs of leaving. The lazy cat was little bastard, but he was yours. He liked to trip you and knock things over just to get your attention. Staying curled up in your lap as you worked, he kept you warm with his usually warm body. Wherever you went, Dabi went too.

It became a problem of sorts. He followed you everywhere, no matter the time or the place. At first you were afraid losing him or having him get hurt, but he seemed alright on his own. He was a stray after all.

After a few months of him living with you, you decided to official get a collar for Dabi. At this point, it was safe to assume he was safe to assume that he would stick around for good. He began leaving presents at your door, whether it be dead birds he caught for you or bringing something from the store that you were looking at. He also ran off all the other strays you had been feeding as well. What a shame, you liked them. But, you chalked it up he was being territorial. Nothing more, nothing les.

“Dabi, you can’t steal things from the store, okay?” You sighed. “I can get them fine on my own.” You gently pet his head as he nuzzled your hand and licked your palm.

“I’m going to the store to get you a collar. Until you learn to behave yourself, you’re under house arrest. Got it?” Dabi nipped your hand playful and sauntered out of the room. What a little bastard, you thought.

At the store, you settled on a purple collar with a silver name tag. Perfect for your little man. After making it back home, you called out for him as you walked into the living room.

“Dabi, I’m home-“ Stopping dead in your tracks, you saw him. A man with cat ears, a tail, and tattoos on his face and body sitting on your couch. Naked, you might add.

“Welcome home, Master,” the man purred as he stood up. “Is that my collar?”

“Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my house?” You barely whispered, frozen in your spot as the man got closer.

“I’m Dabi, pretty Master. Don’t ya recognize me?” He bared his fangs with a devilish smirk, swishing his tail behind him. You were still at a loss for words. Your cat was a hybrid? Granted, they were extremely rare, but they existed nonetheless.

“Why...why didn’t you tell me you were a hybrid?” You were certainly not amused like he was. Was this some kind of joke to him?

“I wanted to make sure you were the one. You took me in when I hadn’t a thing in the world and loved and cared for me,” He explained, moving behind you as he wrapped his arms and tail around your waist. “I knew you were the perfect mate and had to chase those other little fuckers away from you.”

Dabi grabbed the collar from your trembling hands and put it on. “See? You know we’re meant to be together, too. Otherwise, why would you want to claim me with a collar? You love me like I love you.” Purring loudly, he began to lick at your neck and cheek.

“I-I saw you as a pet! You tricked me, you bastard.” Your growled as you pushed him off of you. “Get out of my house!”

Dabi laughed and grabbed you harshly. “Aw, don’t kick me out, Master. You’re the one who took me in and now you gotta deal with the consequences.” He purred in a condescending tone. Picking you up, he took you to the bedroom and threw you on the bed you two shared, pinning you down when you squirmed.

“Let me make it up to, I want to pay back your generous hospitality.” He began to remove your pants and underwear, not bothered by your trashing. Softly shushed your pleas, he smirked “Relax, mate. I’ll take good care of you.”

Dabi locked eyes with you and leaned down, tenderly placing a kiss on your hole before beginning a vigorous pace of licking. Unable to hold back your moans, you began to whimper and whine. He placed your ankles under his arms and grabbed your wrists, locking you down in position.

“Stop it!” You cried, struggling against his grip. Your pet paid no mind as set out to loosen your hole. “Relax, sweet thing. You’re going to need to be nice and loose if you’re going to take my knot.”

Tears streamed down your face as you helplessly laid still, unable to ignore the tight heat coiling in your core. Coming undone, you cried out loudly as your hole flexed and tightened around his tongue.

“Good girl, good Master.” Dabi purred and praised, finally releasing you from his grip. As you caught your breath and came down from your blinding orgasm, he licked you clean and hiked your legs up over his shoulder.

“I can’t wait to breed you master,” he sighed dreamily as he positioned himself. “To fill you up with our litter.” He groaned, slowly pushing himself into your still pulsating hole. Your still sensitive body shook as he bottomed out, both of your noises filling the room.

Taking your hands in his, he started out a gentle pace as he licked the tears off of your cheeks. He praised you sweetly, whispering all the sweet nothings you used to tell him as you moaned and panted.

Pushing your hips down further, he pressed his own onto yours, setting a brutal pace.

“Gonna look so good and full with our kittens, Master. Gonna be such a good mother,” he practically whined as his thrusts got sloppy. He was getting close to his first knot and your second orgasm.

“Gonna knot, gonna knot, gonna knot,” he moaned loudly as he came, popping his knot inside of you. Thick ropes of come painted your womb as his legs shook from the shock of his high. You cried out as you came as well, gripping his forearms tightly.

The both of you panting in silence for a few moments before he pulls you on top of him and begins to run his fingers through your hair. He grooms you gently and licks any tears that fall.

“Good girl, Master.”

You should have never taken in a stray.