#proceeded to stare into space for a bit

[cultivating-wildflowers]

2024 Reading - April

April was a month full of sci-fi and false starts. I have now DNF'd as many books as I've finished from my short TBR for the year. And yet? Best reading month of the year so far?

Total books: 9  |  New reads: 5   |   2024 TBR completed: 5 (3 DNF) / 14/36 total   |   2024 Reading Goal: 20/100

March | May

potential reading list from April 1st

#1 - West with the Night by Beryl Markham - 5/5 stars (audio)

I didn't plan for the exploration(?) theme we've got going on (Emily Wilde, A Natural History of Dragons, Lynne Cox) but I'm not mad about it. This book had me hooked from the opening paragraph. Markham's voice is full of adventure and passion, and the story flows effortlessly from one event to another of Markham's highly eventful life. This is how you tell a good story.

Couple of notes:

As would be expected from a woman raised in Africa (specifically Kenya while it was still British East Africa) from the start of the 20th century, there are aspects of the way Markham tells her story that would come off as racist to modern sensibilities. It wasn't malicious or long-winded, only matter-of-fact.

If you want a better picture of Markham as a person, find one of the biographies written about her. West with the Night talks about her adventures, not her life. (Based on her own telling of her adventures, Markham's exactly the kind of character I'd expect to see in a Sayers novel. Look her up; then look up Hemingway's review of her book. I mean, come on; she was born Beryl Clutterbuck.)

I wouldn't recommend the audiobook for this one, at least the one narrated by Julie Harris. Editing wasn't that great and there were often weird breaks and pauses in the middle of sentences. You could hear Harris turning pages several times. (Which is fine if you like the sense of someone reading the book to you, and Harris's accents and pronunciation were great to my untrained ears.)

#2 - Recorder by Cathy McCrumb - 5/5 stars (reread, mixed print and audio)

I have had this book on my brain since first reading it two years ago--likely in part because I never would have picked it up on my own, had no great expectations for it, and then was blown away--and have been anticipating a reread in light of the final book of the trilogy being released in February. Happily, it holds up well to a reread. Really well. I cried again.

I won't say it's for everyone. It is very much a character-driven story with a pretty straightforward plot, and at times the writing style can get a little stilted (mostly in dialogue). But it's exactly what I needed at the time, and it has so much of what I love in stories. Also, there are cats. In space.

(I do recommend print over audio; the narrator is fine but her inflections are weird, and there are a lot of J-sounding names, which makes listening confusing.)

#3 - Aberration by Cathy McCrumb - 5/5 stars (reread, mixed print and audio)

My original review of this book mentioned the growing cast as my main issue, and on a reread, that's still my only real complaint. It's not really even a complaint, but there are so many characters to keep track of and they're moving all over the place as the various crises demand that by the end, I honestly forgot about a few of them.

The overarching plot continues at a solid pace and the tension ramps up excellently, though it's easy to forget what the actual goal when the Recorder and her friends are all just trying to survive one threat after another. And man, the relationships! Truly the highlight of this series. And it made me cry again, which automatically earns it some points.

For some reason when I started this book the first time, I'd expected it to take a slightly different route--literally, I thought we'd see more of this story's world outside of flashbacks. That doesn't detract from the story, only my expectations. (Also, I need someone to read this who enjoys it in kind of the same way I do so we can make our own memes. Because I want memes.)

More like this: This is going to sound lame or cheesy or something, but I cannot help comparing this series to Murderbot. Murderbot and the Recorder start out at kind of the same place: outcast, bodies and minds honed to a specific purpose, seen by many as less-than, but slowly drawn into a tight-knit group that gives them a better purpose and a fuller identity. Despite their vast differences, there are a ton of similarities between the two stories, including how each is set in some version of a futuristic authoritarian society (though they each come at that from very different angles). The major difference (apart from tone) is obviously that Murderbot is known for the action and high drama and explicit language; while Children of the Consortium is Christian sci-fi and follows different standards (but mercifully without being either preachy or sanctimonious). I don't think someone would like one specifically because they enjoy the other, but here we are.

#4 - Guardian by Cathy McCrumb - 4/5 stars (audio)

This was a satisfying end to the trilogy. Some of the narrative choices left me a little confused, but they worked well enough. And based on how the first two books went, they make sense. We get a manifold happy ending, and I'm content. It earns four stars because the character relationships and interactions continued to deliver. Heaven knows what my neighbors must have thought of me, giggling and in my hammock in my backyard while I listened to the love interest very tenderly help the wounded MC out of her armor. I am a simple woman.

Coming to the end of the story, however, I'm certain I wouldn't recommend this to many people. It was very much a comfort read to me, and it has its flaws: repetitive writing, pacing issues, and an open ending I'm weirdly ambivalent about. Conceptually, it's a great story, and I'll definitely look for more from this writer.

#5 - Pyramids by Terry Pratchett - 4/5 stars

Another fun one from Pratchett. It was relatively light, it was quick, there were assassins and kings and handmaidens, and naturally everything exploded splendidly right at the end. Teppic is cool.

#6 - Queen of Attolia by Megan Whalen Turner - 5/5 stars (reread, audio)

I am so normal about this book.

#7 - Watership Down by Richard Adams - 5/5 stars (reread, audio)

Hadn't planned on getting to this one until at least next month, but my goodness if it isn't the perfect audiobook to listen to in the background, and I seriously needed that. (Though I caught a LOT of little errors in the audiobook editing because I was reading along for bits and pieces.)

#8 - Starship Troopers by Robert A. Heinlein - 4/5 stars ('24 TBR, Top 5 Anticipated Read)

If we look back at my January reading, we'll notice that I tried a different Heinlein book at the beginning of the year and...hated it. Didn't even finish it.

But I kept this book on my list because it's a classic and my sources said it's far and away much better than The Puppet Masters, so I wanted to give it a chance. Despite my better judgment. After all, I enjoyed The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress. Maybe Starship Troopers would split the difference and tell me if it's worth pursuing any of Heinlein's other works.

Despite the fact that it has a lot of the elements that made me put down The Forever War (see below), I enjoyed this one? I think it was the narrative voice. A quick and engaging read. Honestly, Heinlein could write a decent story so long as he kept the women out of it.

But I think this will be my last Heinlein unless someone manages to talk me into another; and it'll take a lot of convincing.

More like this: Honestly, I don't read much in this line so the fact that we have space wars against bug-like aliens obviously made me think of "Ender's Game". I also thought of "Old Man's War" in terms of style. And this starts out on the same footing as "The Forever War", though the tones are very different, so perhaps that's worth checking out if you really want more like this? (goodreads shows these books are three of the four top "readers also enjoyed" choices, alongside one by Arthur C. Clarke. so yay me.)

#9 - At the Back of the North Wind by George MacDonald - 4/5 stars ('24 TBR, audio)

Splendidly vivid and enthralling, a little bit saccharine, and...uh. Very Victorian. Didn't like the ending, I'll be honest, though I wasn't exactly surprised.

DNF (I was struggling this month, folks)

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life by Barbara Kingsolver, with Steven L. Hopp and Camille Kingsolver ('24 TBR)

The funniest tag for this book on goodreads is "author get over thyself", which about sums up my sentiments. I got all of 45 minutes into the audiobook before I gave up due to excessive eye-rolling. Intent: good. Delivery: bad. Robin Wall Kimmerer runs a similar line of discussion in Braiding Sweetgrass and I didn't have to suffer being condescended to for the entirety of that book.

Secret Contest Book (YA Sci-Fi) - I did my very best to be objective since I don't really read this genre any more. The concept was intriguing, and I wanted to like it, but right out of the gate the writing couldn't keep up with the idea. Which, unfortunately, is not a surprise given the theme of this contest. Alas.

Midnight for Charlie Bone by Jenny Nimmo (‘24 TBR) - Another book I decided to try after one of the mutuals said they liked it. It isn’t for me, but I see the appeal. I’ll be keeping this one in my back pocket for future recs.

To Sleep in a Sea of Stars by Christopher Paolini - Pushed myself through two chapters before giving up. Not my style. Felt very Brandon Sanderson with the verbosity. (Also, and this is probably just me, I spent those two chapters going "yeah, Chris, you were definitely home-schooled".)

The Forever War by Joe Haldeman (‘24 TBR) - Again, not for me. The elements that do appeal to me (relativistic space travel, sci-fi tech, group dynamics) I can get elsewhere without the elements I don’t like (the stuff you typically find in war stories, especially those written in the 60’s and 70’s). If someone wants more of a war story than a sci-fi story, or is interested in the historical background that apparently drove the writing of this book, I say check it out.

Currently Reading:

DragonSpell by Donita K. Paul - Finallyyyyyyy.

[sobbingscripter]

Tags: [mlw][mdni][fingering][passionate][ex!fwb][quiet reader][slight breeding kink][light choking][hair pulling][quiet sex][no nudity][nipple play][nipple sucking][promise of pregnancy][low-key right person; wrong time][not proofread because my beta reader's asleep]

"I have a fucking kid and you didn't think to tell me?!"

Dick's voice is low, frustration bleeding into his words and his fingertips dig into his palms, blunt nails leaving crescent indentations in the flesh as he stares down at you.

The worst part is, you look so fucking nonchalant about it too.

Sitting crossed legged on the couch, a mug of steaming hot chocolate cradled in your hands and a plate of cookies resting on the surface of the coffee table. The TV plays one of the older episodes of Keeping Up With The Kardashians, and God, the sight of you so relaxed while watching trashy TV makes Dick falter in his anger.

"How do you know he's yours or even mine?"

You speak, your voice soft and gentle, despite the way your eyes burn with annoyance at the fact that Dick's just.... Standing there, in your space, his suit clinging to him like a second skin in the way it always has.

Dick leans forward, his breath fanning across the surface of your face and he gives you the opportunity to see the stormy rage that swirls in brilliant blue irises, darkened by the sense of betrayal at the fact that you've kept his son from him for so long.

"Because he looks like me. He looks fucking just. Like. Me." Dick grits the words out like they're liquid sulphur, burning his throat on the way out.

Before he lets out a breath, dropping onto the seat beside you and he cards a gloved hand through his hair.

"And he told me I look.... Romani. And proceeded to call me a 'gypsy bastard'."

Your apartment looks different from when he was here last.

Warm, pale blue walls, a dark leather sofa and a bigger TV mounted on the wall. Fuzzy blue throw pillows and the bowl of fruity gummies on the coffee table is a fun new addition, just like the drawings that line the walls of the living room, and clutter on top of the fridge.

On each drawing, Dick can make out the scribbled out 'Mommy And Me', usually in a colour that has no match in the palette and he can't deny the heaviness in his heart when he reads that.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dick speaks softly, hands moving to carefully remove the mask from his face, tossing it onto the coffee table and he grabs one of the throw pillows, resting it on his face.

You can practically smell his emotions.

Confused, hurt, betrayed. Frustration's a big one though, and you purse your lips.

"I didn't wanna have the 'is it mine' conversation."

You speak so softly, so sweetly and it reminds Dick of how much motherhood's softened you. It reminds him of the way that you'd have pushed him out the window for showing up unannounced, but instead, you're letting him sit on your couch, and you talk.

Not argue.

You just... Talk.

"I'd know he was mine." Dick murmurs. "We were... Exclusive."

The way Dick says it makes you feel like it was more than just occasional hookups, more than the odd movie date that ended with your ankles touching your ears.

The silence between you is comfortable.

The soft pitter-patter of raindrops dropping against your aluminium window, pot plants on the terrace watered so gently and the TV continues to play, although at a much softer pace.

Dick lowers the pillow, looking at you with big, almost teary blue eyes. Eyes framed by long, inky lashes, full brows and striking hues that make you feel like your breath is dying in your throat with every passing second.

"He's beautiful."

Dick's voice is soft.

"A little bit of an asshole, but he's beautiful."

Before you can answer, before you can even fathom properly what Dick's saying, you hear the crack of a door and the shuffle of tiny feet as Riot stumbles into the living room, fists balled and rubbing at his eyes.

"Mommy, my eye." He sniffles, continuing to scratch at his eye before you let out a quiet hum, your hands hooking underneath the little boy's armpits before you tug him onto your lap.

And you open his eye, the sclera just a bit red and you hum softly.

"Dickie, can you put on the light, please?"

Dick doesn't question the nickname, because it makes his heart swell in a way that has him internally screeching, even as he reaches for the overhead lamp and switches it on.

And your lips purse as you blow on Riot's eye, watching the way his lashes flutter and his eyelid twitches before a teary droplet plops down his cheek.

And you wipe it away, feeling the distinct strand of cat fur against the pad of your thumb.

"We don't even own a cat." You mumble, before using your index knuckle to wipe the watery eye.

"All better?" You muse softly and Riot nods his head, before glancing at Dick with sleepy eyes, lashes fluttering even as he clambers across your lap, and into Dick's.

And his tiny arms wrap around as much of Dick's midsection as he can, his chubby and rosy cheek pressed against Dick's chest.

And the man's expression crumples.

Brows twitch and eyes begin to sting as one of his long fingered hands move to rest on Riot's back, feeling the soft fabric of his pajamas through the glove. And Riot lets out a content sigh.

"Deadbeat gypsy." The words are muffled, but they're audible enough for Dick's lips to part in shock, brows raising before letting out a bark of laughter.

Before he glances at you.

"He's just like you." Dick murmurs, before watching as Riot climbs from his lap, and heading back to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

There's a still silence in the air, only filled by the sound of Kim's voice and rain droplets crashing down outside before Dick clears his throat.

"My— uh...— my patrol ended early." He murmurs softly.

"Do you wanna watch a movie?"

The way you're slot under Dick's bicep, your head against his chest and your legs tossed across his lap makes him feel 4 seconds away from crashing out. Because God, you're so warm and so much softer.

Dick stares unabashedly at the way your plush thighs brush against his when you shift to make yourself comfortable, he feels the way heavier breasts push against his side as you snuggle closer, before ultimately decided to pull the quilt over the both of you.

Your eyes remain glued to the TV, occasionally letting out snorts of laughter as you watch Grown Ups for what you could guess would be the 60th time on your lifetime.

But you can feel Dick's eyes.

Following the curve of your face, watching the way your lashes fan out and watching the way breaths leave your soft, glossy lips. And before Dick can even fathom it, his arm behind you is shifting, hand moving to wrap around your neck, long fingers stretching effortlessly and he brushes his thumb along your pulse, the action causing your head to tilt up and you meet his gaze.

And Dick's lips are pressed against yours, his fingers twitching against your neck before leaving the column of your throat, instead, shifting until you're resting back against the sofa.

You can't refuse. Well shit, you don't want to refuse.

Dick's kissing you like he's dying tomorrow. Lips pressed against yours, his hips nestled between your thighs and his arm moving to support his weight, elbow braced on the armrest above your head, and his other hand cradling your face.

His thumb strokes along the soft skin of your cheek, his hips pushed against yours and his tongue brushing along yours, but his movements stutter when your thighs wrap around his waist, arms around his neck and bringing him down to deepen the kiss.

Dick swears he sees heaven when your fingers card through his hair in that way.

Starting right at the nape of his neck, before dragging those manicured nails, up up up, before they disappear beneath silky raven strands and he sighs into the kiss, before pulling away.

Dilated pupils, and heavy breaths are exchanged between the two of you, and Dick swallows hard.

"Is he a heavy sleeper?" Dick whispers softly, gaze darting towards the bedroom he saw Riot disappear into and you nod your head.

"He is but you're pretty loud." You tease softly and Dick pushes his hips into yours, his bulge prominent beneath his suit and you can feel the way his tip brushes against your clit, even through the layers of fabric between you.

Dick always could find it in record time.

"Fair point." Dick whispers softly, a breathy laugh slipping past his lips, just a bit reddened from the intense kiss and he speaks again.

"But you never were loud."

Two digits bully their way into your cunt, your shorts and panties tugged to the side and Dick's lips are pressed against yours, muffling any sound you could even think of letting escape from your lips.

His tongue is buried in your mouth, thumb rubbing sloppy circles against your throbbing clit and your nails dig into Dick's biceps when he prods at a particularly sensitive spot. Your lashes flutter, and you take a shaky breath when Dick's fingers curl, his glove abandoned on the surface of the coffee table, and Dick pulls away from you, a thin, glossy string of saliva between the two of you before it ultimately breaks.

Landing across your chin and he giggles.

The man fucking giggles, as he uses his free hand to wipe away the mess, before ultimately moving your hair out of your face, staring down at you with pretty, big eyes that look at you so adoringly.

"You're so pretty." Dick murmurs softly, pressing a peck to your lips as he stares at you.

And fuck, you are.

Pretty eyes fanned by long lashes, perfect eyebrows and rosy cheeks, wet and parted lips (both pairs), and a few strands of hair clings to the thin sweat on your forehead and Dick sighs softly.

You're perfectly spread out too.

Hands gripping at him like you're scared he'll disappear, thighs spread messily and your panties and shorts tugged aside. Gummy walls thrum around his digits, pulsing at the intrusion and all he does is he continues to tease your clit, the rough pad of his thumb circling the sensitive and swollen nub as he continues to look at you with those heart eyes.

"Can I take you out tomorrow?" Dick's question is unexpected but he can't lie and say he hasn't been thinking about it since he saw you.

Plush, squishy, and so soft.

And he'd do anything to see you pregnant.

To watch you move around in oversized shirts, a belly swollen and heavy breasts that he could tease because they're just so sensitive and pretty.

And God, he can't even imagine the way your perfect, plump pussy would look, nestled between even rounder thighs, clit completely hidden until he uses his thumbs to spread the lips.

Dick swallows.

Hard.

And he doesn't even notice that his fingers begin to move, curling and prodding, nudging at that little fleshy spot that has your toes curling in your mismatched socks and your nails dig into his forearms.

And Dick remembers just what a sight you are when you come.

Brows pinching into the cutest little frown, lips forming a little 'o' and that gasp that leaves you has him leaking in his suit and he's so glad it's dark.

"That's it, princess, come on my fingers." Dick coos softly. "Use my fingers to make your pretty pussy feel good."

Your eyes roll back, you hide your face in your shoulder and your body freezes, the only movement being the rhythmic spasm of your cunt around his fingers.

His stupidly long, incessant fingers that keep dragging out your orgasm even as you nod your head, a silent answer to his prior question.

And Dick gleams, dimples in his cheeks and brilliant blue eyes lighting up in a way that can only be described as cosmic.

Blue eyes flecked with silvery stars and the gleam of the moon, dilated pupils and pretty lashes and Dick nods.

"Okay." He breathes out. "We're gonna go to the museum, okay? He's a little artist so I think he'd like looking at the paintings?"

You nod meekly, chest still heaving even when you watch as Dick licks his fingers, cleaning them up like he's just licking syrup from his fingers. His long tongue swivels around his digits before he carefully tugs up the fabric of your T-shirt, exposing your torso to the cold air.

Perfect tits, dotted with pebbled nipples and Dick swallows.

He never thought he'd be someone to have a kid out of wedlock but fuck, is he happy to be your baby daddy.

"Come on, princess." Dick hums sweetly. "Let me worship those pretty fucking tits before I leave."

Dick leans down, breath fanning across your chest before his tongue drags along one of your sensitive nipples, and he watches the way your face screws up, biting your bottom lip to stifle any sounds.

And you look at Dick from beneath your lashes, bleary eyes and rosy lips and he groans low.

A rumble in his chest that has your needy pussy pushing out a trickle of slick.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll get you pregnant again." His lips latch onto the sensitive nub, his free hand moving to palm your other breast, thumb brushing over your nipple.

"Fuck that, I'll get you pregnant anyway."

Taglist:

@allycat4458 🪻

@lucky-beheaded 🌻

@fayethefaerie 🦋

@jasontoddswhitestreak 🌸

@moristhesecond 🍓

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[justevelynnnn]

Starved

Summary: Viltrumite!Mark is an eater

Warnings: MDNI🔞, Mentions of cunnilingus, reader is afab, mention of Stockholm syndrome, tiny bit of voyeurism

A/N: I’ve been meaning to put more invincible stuff out but i’m just busy i swear😭

Anyways, I’ve really been wanting to write Viltrumite mark because i literally need him like asap. I’m not the best at writing him tho especially cause this is my first time so sorry abt that.

(Also idk the artist, i tried looking but if anyone finds them let me know!)

As much as you hated him, you loved how he treated you in bed.

Especially, while he ate you out.

The room itself, it was his, was huge and so was the bed. It was bigger than a king size bed on Earth, and it was oddly extremely comfortable and soft.

After this Mark, who wasn’t actually your Mark mind you, literally kidnapped you to make you his wife—very, very long story btw—you had to become accustomed to living here. Viltrum was….intense, but also beautiful, structured and clean. And, so was this guy.

Your Mark on earth was awkward and kind. He hated killing. This one? This guy? He did it like he was blinking, and when he laid eyes on you with that stare you couldn’t put an emotion on you knew it was over. One minute you were running from him and the next you were being carried in space somewhere.

But enough of that.

This Mark was considered royalty here so he could just do….whatever!

Others bowed to him. Conversations hushed when he entered rooms. No one dared to challenge him.

So, that’s why he doesn’t care where, but if he wants to eat you out he will. It doesn’t help that Mark was your ex on earth so you just let him.

The first time was after some weird dinner thing in the dining hall a week after you arrived. You didn’t follow what they were doing well because, well, you were still traumatized from literally everything that happened. Plus, Mark’s hand was on your knee under the table and inched up every other minute.

Everyone left and a viltrumite maid in rags started to clean up, but Mark couldn’t wait anymore so it seemed. His hand left your thigh finally and he stood up slowly. You didn’t move. Part of you was scared for what was to come next. You didn’t expect it when he proceeded to pick you up from your chair and lay you on the long table in front of him and pull your bottoms all the way off.

“What-” You gasp. The maid looked up and made eye contact with a glaring Mark. They promptly left.

“I want to taste the sweetness between your legs.” Mark said in his usual nonchalant way. He stood between your now bare legs with a hand under each knee. “I’ve been wanting to since I found you.”

Shock wasn’t even the beginning to describe how you felt then. This guy has only kissed you like once. Now he’s gonna eat you out? On this fancy table? You hardly registered that your bottom half was just completely bare with only the cold air on your skin bringing you back. It was just so sudden but part of you was thrilled. Excited even.

“Um, okay?” You sighed. What’s the use fighting him? “Are we just gonna….like, here? Now?”

Mark just nods once, expression unmoving.

You hate how he just lacks…personality. Sometimes he’s just a statue and it creeps you out with how he moved just so calculated.

He moves down so his head is between your thighs. His hands are pushing your legs apart so you couldn’t move even if you wanted to, and he immediately got to work. It was like he let himself go. Unraveling from a long day of masking as a strong, poker faced warrior. And you were concerned at first that Viltrumites just lick one long stripe each time like fucking robots but no. Nope.

Dare you say this Mark ate you out better than your own?

The way he used his tongue against you, flicking and dipping inside rhythmically had you on the verge of cumming minutes in. He groaned and moaned into you like he never tasted anything better. His nose brushed against your neglected clit every now and then which didn’t help.

You wondered why he avoided it, but quickly learned he was saving it for the end. When you started twitch and tried to move away from him he held you firmly in place and started sucking on your clit, occasionally letting his tongue flick against it as well.

Then you came like never before. You saw stars. You swore you did. And, the worst part was he didn’t even stop. He just kept going, slurping the juices that came out of you as you shook around him.

And then when you were done, gasping for air and still trembling a bit, he just pulled you up off the table and helped you put your skirt back on.

You couldn’t even speak. He just carried on and helped you to his room like nothing happened, his face still wet and all.

After that night he’d just randomly eat you out. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited when he started showing those subtle signs of needing you. Whether it was a hand on your knee again or him just never leaving your side. Even the times he’s just….staring into your soul (you did not like those times at all).

It made sense he ate you out like a god, he was one.

You could almost blame the creeping Stockholm syndrome on loving him and how he ate you. The urge to get away from him slipped away with each tender lick of his tongue.

“Your petals has the exact sweetness of a fruit from this planet i conquered once.”, Mark said one night between your legs. “A rare delicacy.”

You almost didn’t fully register what he said because you were lost in your own world of pleasure.

“Is…is that why, ughh~”, you moaned. You could hardly finish a thought because he just didn’t stop for nothing.

“Why what.” He said before returning to sucking on you.

“Is that why-why you like me so, fuck, much?”

He paused like he was thinking about it. Then he shook his head no.

“There is more to why I “like” you.”

You wanted to say more but that was the end of that conversation because he went right back to work. Part of you believed it was stress relief. Another part now went the planet fruit excuse.

Everything else about him was composed. Regal almost.

Untouchable.

He was respected by many Viltrumites here.

But when he was between your legs like this? His hair was a mess. He made many noises you know no one else has heard from him. His eyes would get watery and filled with lust and need.

Not to mention he loved being drenched when he was done with you. One time his face was literally dripping because he got you to squirt on him. He’d always get up too, like it was nothing.

You still didn’t know how to feel about him. He was your kidnapper after all and not to mention he looked and sounded exactly like your ex. It was a complex situation. Even months later you felt conflicted.

But maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this as long as he stayed just as needy to eat you out.

[a2l1y1]

Clingy Ellie.

sub!ellie x fem!reader

No NFSW, mostly fluff.

Summary ➜ she thought you had left her.

Extremely clingy and annoying Ellie.

Ellie was obsessed with you. You were both really close friends—but it was fucking obvious she was crushing on you. You suspected this for a while now, and the more you thought deeply about it, the more confident you were about being right.

That’s when you started noticing Ellie being clingier than usual, asking you to hangout, wanting to hold your hand, getting you both matching things and generally wanting to be closer to you. You weren’t bothered, but you simply didn’t want to ruin the friendship that you both had—especially since Ellie is the type of person to be extremely confused whether she likes someone romantically or platonically. She’s just the curious and unsure person. But you had to admit that her behavior towards you was starting to make a difference. But after a while, you got used it.

After being your best friend for so long—eight years—Ellie was used to everything with you. Especially sleeping in the same bed as you; it just felt normal for her —she loved it—So when you decided to stay the night at her apartment, she just smiled at you.

Though, when she woke up and saw the empty space next to her, her heart clenched. She immediately thought you had left her without saying anything, and it weirdly made her feel lonely. She stood up, scratching her head and walked to the kitchen.

There, she saw you, actually making breakfast with the Alexa on, with some calm, soft music; just murmuring the songs and moving to it. She smiled to herself and walked closer before wrapping her tatted arms around your waist; something else she was used to do. “I assumed you had left.” She told you in the most gentlest whisper while she softly smells your scent from your neck.

You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes, it was too early for this type of affection, but you still let Ellie in. Denying her clinginess felt odd—knowing Ellie loved being all around you. “I guess someone woke up like a baby today huh?” You chuckled as you proceeded to hug her.

Ellie chuckled at your eye-rolling and your teasing remarks. She was used to your playful banter and appreciated the way you accepted her affection, even if it was a bit much for you in the morning. She leaned into your hug, feeling comfort in your presence. Shrugging playfully, she replied, “Hey, can’t help it if I like being close to you. You’re the one who stayed the night, after all.” Ellie gave you a playful wink before turning back to the breakfast you were preparing, taking a quick look at the scrambled eggs, and a huge smile formed on her face. feeling grateful for your company.

You sigh, avoiding Ellie completely before she gets any dumb ideas so early.

After breakfast, you just laid in the couch, reading a novel you recently got a little hype on. You tried your best to avoid it, but it was fucking difficult when you could feel Ellie staring at your back.

“What do you want els, I don’t have all day and I can feel you staring at me.” You spat rapidly as you shut your book down and stared at her with a raised eyebrow. Ellie walks up to you, flustered and nervous—the look as if she was hiding something. Or wanting to tell you something.

“I just uhh.. thought that maybe while you read I could snuggle up…with you.” Those words stroked you up. Ellie Williams being soft on you now? Wanting to snuggle? Is she high? And next thing you knew, her face was all up on your neck. Her hands roaming all over your stomach, innocently, playing with your little rolls. You couldn’t help but to sigh, she’s being too clingy.

Ellie felt a mix of emotions as you pushed her away a little. She could sense your discomfort and tried to give you space, but the tension in the air was palpable. More when she needed to be close to you at all costs. Ellie couldn't help but feel a rush of vulnerability. She leaned into your touch tentatively, enjoying the warmth of your body against hers. Despite your initial resistance, Ellie found comfort in the intimacy between the two of you, cherishing these moments of closeness, or as she thought they were. Ellie enjoyed every inch of you, the way her oversized T-shirt looked on you, the boxers you stole from her, your glasses, your messy bun. She tried her best to hide herself on the crook of your neck—she was too flustered just by looking at you.

But you knew this—you knew her. And even if she’s a little mess for you, deep down you were enjoying every bit of this. Maybe falling for Ellie Williams isn’t that bad.

[babyleostuff]

when they take a joke too far | ot13

❥ seungcheol 

as much as i love cheol, i don’t think he’d immediately notice that he took the joke too far, mainly because of the fact that when he’s in the moment, surrounded by other people, you know - trying to be funny (maybe attempting on impressing others with his amazing joking skills), he’d be a bit too focused on the people surrounding him. it doesn’t change the fact that the second he notices you acting a tad bit off, he’s all over you asking you questions - if you are all right, if you want to leave, if you need food or water, his jacket etc etc. when he’d find out you were upset by his joke, oh - he’d be so so disappointed and angry with himself, truly. cheol would apologise, of course, and ask you if you needed space (it would break his heart if you said yes tbh, but he'd understand that). he just wouldn’t want to disappoint and hurt you even more.

❥ jeonghan 

jeonghan knows he can be quite petty and sarcastic at times, and his jokes can be taken ambiguously sometimes, especially when people don’t really know him and his humour. then again, he’d never tell a mean joke on purpose, he’s not mean like that, but sometimes his jokes do not come out as he means them to. it could take him some time to notice you being upset over his joke because after all you’re quite used to his sense of humour, so he’d never think that you could get upset over it. in his mind his joke is just a silly comment, he obviously doesn’t mean for it to upset you, god forbid. when he finds out you’re bothered by it though, he’d apologise in any way he could - he’d be extra attentive, clingy, and careful with you, but giving you space at the same time.

❥ joshua 

immediately feels so bad when he sees your expression fall after his bad joke. does not wait to apologise later or reflect on what he had just said - your visible sadness is enough for joshua to cradle your face in his hands and apologise, as sincerely as he can. even if you’re with friends or other acquaintances, he doesn’t care if people are staring or murmuring to each other, all he cares about is apologising. even if you’d forgive him, joshua would still be a bit more wary around you, making sure to give you space but at the same time still care for you and take care of you, because despite your words - he knew you were still a bit upset.

❥ jun 

wouldn’t be sure whether to pack up his things and move out of your apartment, bury himself under the sheets, or to bawl his eyes out. the worst part is when he doesn’t even realise that he upset you with his joke, because what do you mean that he made you sad and he proceeded to go about his day like nothing happened? HE DIDN’T KNOW, PLEASE FORGIVE HIM. it’s never, ever jun’s intention to make you upset (duh), and it makes everything so much worse - he’s the one who’s supposed to make you laugh, not sad. when he realises that he took the joke too far he’s not sure how to approach you, because if he could he’d apologise immediately, but then again - what if you hate him now?

❥ hoshi 

this man is the epitome of “saying before thinking”, and while he’d never tell a joke to offend someone on purpose, shit happens and not all of his jokes come off as jokes. he also gets easily distracted so it could take some time for him to notice you being upset, but at the same time he’s such a simp for you, so he’d either realise you were bothered by his comment an hour later or the second the joke left his mouth. would be the type to fall to his knees, hug your waist, bury his face in your stomach, and proceed with an at least hour apology because he feels that bad. his dramatic behaviour (and the even more dramatic apology speech) would make you laugh so hard, you’d forget about the joke in seconds. still, hoshi would be extra caring with you because no excuse could justify his joke that was lame and unfunny in the first place.

❥ wonwoo 

to be honest, i don’t see a world where wonwoo would take a joke too far, he’d notice you being uncomfortable before you’d even know you were upset by the joke yourself. BUT, if it (somehow) happened, his apology would come straight away. there is no way he’d be able to proceed with his day without apologising at least fifty times - he’s so in tune with your emotions, it’d be like he could feel you hurting because of the joke himself. wonwoo would feel very ashamed of even thinking, let alone telling such a joke, he’d feel very disappointed in himself, and he’d beat himself up for that for days.

❥ woozi 

would apologise immediately - jihoon doesn’t like bullshitting around stuff, there is no way he’d wait with apologising, not only because he doesn’t like getting into conflicts, but because you deserve that apology. it’s never his intention to upset you, and he wouldn’t be able to proceed with his day without saying something. like, what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t? after incidents like those (not that they happen often), he’s a bit more cautious around you, making sure to not overstep any boundaries, and letting you have some space.

❥ dk 

not happening, sorry - there is no way seokmin would take a joke too far to the point of upsetting someone, especially you. no. freaking. way. he’d rather set his body of fire than make an upsetting joke. 

❥ mingyu 

there’s also a slim chance of mingyu taking a joke too far, he’s too good of a person to upset anyone with his jokes. if it happened, he’d immediately apologise, probably in one of the most dramatic ways ever - throwing himself on his knees, yapping about how sorry he is, and how he didn’t know how such a joke could even come to his mind, while he’s eyes would be screaming “FORGIVE ME PLEASE”. he would be so disappointed and angry at himself for saying the joke, like it would take him days to get over it, even if you said you forgave him. there’s just something about taking a joke too far and making your significant upset because of it that breaks mingyu’s heart.

❥ minghao    

he can be very blunt and petty, his humour is not for everyone, but that still doesn’t mean he’d upset anyone on purpose (unless that person is rude, then they get the full on xu minghao treatment). when he notices he took his joke too far regarding you, he’s kind of clueless on what to do next - it’s not like he can ignore the fact that he said what he said, and he feels so ashamed for making you upset, in fact - too ashamed to apologise immediately. all of his confidence and bluntness suddenly leaves him, because how is he supposed to keep his head high when he just made his significant other upset with a joke, he decided to think of and then say. 

❥ seungkwan 

our savage boo can be a tad too savage at times, and sometimes his remarks can be a bit upsetting. good thing is that he quickly realises when he oversteps the boundary of what is funny and what is not, so it wouldn’t take him much time to understand that you got genuinely upset over his joke. would take your hands in his, and with a lowered head (he’d be too embarrassed and ashamed of upsetting you to look at you), and try to apologise as sincerely as he could. seungkwan would make sure to give you some space, though it would break his heart - but he knew that that was what he had to do for you to forgive him completely.

❥ vernon 

vernon isn’t known for coming up with loud and bold jokes, so he immediately catches himself after telling the joke that clearly wasn’t a good one, especially because it was directed towards you. his first instinct is to watch you to see your reaction, he wouldn’t want to say anything right away, afraid that it would make the situation only worse. he’s very cautious when approaching you, he’d understand if you’d need some space, but at the same time he doesn’t want to wait with his apology, because he feels really, really bad. he's also really good at apologising - maybe taking the full accountability for a bad joke is the bare minimum, but then again finding the bare minimum is very hard lately.

❥ chan

chan is usually quite good at controlling what he’s saying, he’s very cautious of the emotions of the people around him, and how his words might affect them. sometimes shit happens though, and not all of his jokes come out as he’d wish them to. chan’s a simp and he’s a loser for you, so he’d catch on to the fact that he took his joke too far quite quickly, and wouldn’t know how to act. he just made you sad, no - he just offended you. his joke, his words made you upset, and that’s a complete failure of his boyfriend duties, because his jokes are supposed to make you laugh, not upset. wouldn’t know how to approach you, would try to apologise through acts of service.

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[pupyuj]

→ “cherry on top.” || jang wonyoung x reader fic.

— gifting your girlfriend a beautiful (and expensive) necklace was going to be the perfect way to end the last night of your winter getaway but with the necklace being forgotten all the way back to your shared apartment, wonyoung decides on the next best thing…

word count: 3.7k.

dynamic: dom!jang wonyoung x sub!actress!reader.

warnings: age gap, reader is older, lots of biting and marking, fingering, mommy kink, praise kink, hair pulling, reader being an actress doesn't really play a big part lol, wonyoung is down horrendous, wony is also lowkey into pain like whoa!

requested?: nope.

a/n: fun fact, i wanted to drop this fic around/on christmas but ofc, i didn’t have enough time so i just made it winter-themed instead 😭 i would have loved to actually drop something from my wip list that's actually been there for a while but since this ended up being a short one, i decided to go with it instead! i hope you guys like it though! i know it's not my best work ever BUT this will be a nice little step to get me back to my writing machine roots 😎😎

“i really don’t know why i’m doing all of this. it’s really nothing special,” you shared a giggle with your girlfriend, wonyoung, as you guided her along the hallways. you made her wear your favorite sleeping mask to completely obscure her vision for the sole reason of surprising her with what you have spent quite a bit of time setting up earlier in the afternoon. wonyoung, despite her excitement, takes her next steps carefully. she didn’t want a stupid incident to take attention away from what you so obviously worked hard on. “but i think this is the best way to end our little trip.” you halted her steps, giving her a soft kiss from behind her shoulder and finally lifting up the mask.

wonyoung blinks several times to have her eyes adjust to the lights that illuminated the lodge. what she saw in the living room area was a humble picnic set up! soft sheets lay on the center of the room (wonyoung noticed that you pushed the coffee table aside for space) accompanied with a few pillows, a wicker basket filled with pasties, wine, and other snacks was sitting right beside it along with a bouquet of pink tulips, and right on the sheets was your laptop with Clueless more than ready to start playing.

“oh, unnie, this is wonderful!” wonyoung whips around and squeezes you for a tight hug. you returned the embrace with the same amount of love, even going as far as to giving a kiss to the side of her head. wonyoung proceeded on tugging you over at your little set-up and sat you down. one would think that you ended world hunger with the way her eyes shined as she stared at you. you tried to ignore that sinking feeling in your stomach—guilt. because as lovely as this was, this trip should not be ending like this. you had something far better planned! but you should have expected with the way you and wonyoung rushed to start the trip that you would forget the most important item that you would be gifting her—the prettiest diamond necklace that even made a successful and rich actress like yourself sweat with how expensive it was. 

but you weren’t going to tell wonyoung about the dent it made on your bank account, like ever. anyhow, you realized that you completely forgot about the necklace on the previous night. you weren’t able to sleep much since something in the back of your mind was screaming at you to check your bags and make sure everything was perfect for the next day and alas, the necklace was nowhere to be found! if wonyoung hadn’t been sleeping peacefully, you would have screamed out of pure frustration at yourself!

there was no use crying over spilt milk, however. and so, you spent the rest of that nearly-sleepless night thinking up of ways to end the trip on a good note even without the necklace. a cute indoor picnic was the idea you liked the most, and now that you’ve seen how much wonyoung appreciates it, perhaps the idea wasn’t too bad. the next problem to tackle was explaining all the trouble you went through to set this all up to wonyoung, but maybe that should be saved for until you’re both too buzzed to care about anything else.

“i hope you don’t think this is boring compared to everything we’ve been doing for the past week, love.” you said as you filled up two glasses with wonyoung’s favorite white wine. (upon noticing this, wonyoung couldn’t keep her eyes off of you. maybe it was painfully simple of her to fawn over the fact that you remembered her favorite drink because it was the bare minimum considering you’ve been dating for years now, but it is as they say: it’s the little things! so, do pardon wonyoung for falling in love with you just a little bit deeper.) a surprised sound escapes your lips when you feel your girlfriend pressing her lips on your jawline, but then you laugh at how her hair tickled your skin.

when wonyoung leaned back and saw that she left a faint kiss mark on your jawline, she let out a satisfied smile. “what do you mean? this is lovely, unnie.” wonyoung can’t even remember all the times she has wished for one relaxing day with you, so she was beyond thankful that she had a whole week of just that. with her being a bigger idol than ever and you jumping from project to project, naturally neither of you had too much time to be together recently. but at least you were luckier than most celebrity couples who can’t even see each other at all! mostly because of their management that just refuses to give them time together. you and wonyoung were blessed with family, friends, and teams that supported your relationship so both of you made sure to enjoy this little trip with everything it had to offer.

“well, between skiing, having lunch in an observation deck atop the mountain, seeing the northern lights, and a picnic with some movies, which one would be more appealing to you?” you asked, leaning back on the pillows. almost automatically, you wrapped a single arm around wonyoung’s waist and pulled her closer to you.

“anything’s good with me as long as i’m with you. how’s that?” wonyoung replies with a grin, knowing she successfully made you cringe in your seat.

you laughed, shaking your head. “ew. cornball.”

the next three hours were a blur. thanks to wonyoung who was clearly having the time of her life, the two bottles of wine were finished relatively quickly. she had begged you to get just one more bottle, using everything in her power to convince you from fluttering her eyelashes, pouting, kissing you, and whispering naughty promises in your ear. as much as you didn’t want to wake up with a hangover, you couldn’t resist wonyoung. especially when all you could see in her eyes every time you looked at her was love!

surprisingly enough, wonyoung was… quiet. when she gets drunk, she’s usually so chatty and giggly. laughing at everything and nothing, sometimes she even turns into a whole pervert! inappropriate comments and all! but tonight, it seems like being in your embrace, basking in your scent, and listening to your heartbeat as she lay her head on your chest was everything she needed to be content. you turn your head steadily towards her, careful not to startle her away from your warmth. her eyes were closed and her breathing had slowed and gotten… heavier? was she asleep? well! that wasn’t how you expected your picnic night to go.

that is until you felt fingers sneak inside your hand-knit sweater, as well as plump lips pressed against your collarbone. a whimper accidentally escapes your lips at the cold sensation of wonyoung’s hand, and you can just tell that that was a sound you should not have allowed to come out of your mouth.

“you’re so sweet, (y/n)-unnie,” wonyoung was positively drunk! her cheeks were glaringly pink and a lazy smile spread across her face while she looked up at you from your shoulder. gods, she was adorable. but you didn’t have the time to revel in that fact when she suddenly straddles your lap, her long legs wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place. with nowhere to go, you were forced to look up at her this time. “planning this entire vacation behind my back, paying for everything and strongly refusing whenever i offered, giving me the best getaway of my life… why are you so perfect?”

“it’s what you deserve, wonyoung-ah.” your reply fell from your lips smoothly as if it was the only right answer to her question. and it really was.

wonyoung playfully rolled her eyes, “so do you. but i got distracted by how much thought you put into this entire vacation that i couldn’t think up of anything to make it up to you! except for one thing, of course…” you didn’t miss how wonyoung’s tongue swiftly brushed across her upper lip and how her smile now turned into something akin to a sly grin. her eyes spelled out her plan without needing the help of her words to which you adorably and pathetically blushed at upon realization.

“n-not everything is perfectly planned… i mean, this really wasn’t how i wanted to spend our last night here together! i was going to take you to the nearby town, have a candlelit dinner with the prettiest view of the frozen river and the snowy mountains, and… i was going to give you a—”

“—a necklace, right?” wonyoung cuts you off. (on the night you found out that the necklace was nowhere to be found, wonyoung was woken up by the sounds of your frustrated and heartbroken rants to one of your friends over the phone. you had no idea she heard everything. she made sure to hold you extra tight when you returned to bed in hopes of making you feel better. and naturally, it worked.)  you pouted as you nod your head, once again feeling sad about how careless you were on the day you both set off on your vacation.

“i couldn’t believe i forgot to grab it… and i didn’t realize that i never brought it with us until yesterday! so you can imagine the stress i was under this entire day while i tried to set this all up!” you sighed deeply after your little rant. you pulled wonyoung close, putting your head in her chest as she consoled you. she couldn’t hold her laughter due to the sheer amount of cuteness aggression she was feeling over your whining, but she made sure to pat your back and kiss the top of your head.

“that explains why you abruptly left me by myself in the skating rink this afternoon! and why you came back all disheveled and out of breath! oh, unnie…” wonyoung only laughs harder when you tighten your hold around her waist—you were clearly embarrassed by your antics from earlier, but wonyoung thinks it’s so cute. you were older and wiser than her, but there are days where your childish and adorable side slips out and wonyoung thinks it’s so, so charming. and the way you don’t realize it makes it all ten times better. makes you ten times more… desirable. irresistible.

wonyoung starts to kiss you from your forehead, your nose, your cheek, your jawline… until she finally reaches your neck where she liked to just take you in and relish at how you shuddered at her actions, “necklace or not, the night would have ended up exactly the same… you did all this for me, and i would love to do things for you in return. many things.” you don’t realize that she reached behind you and undid the perfect ribbons she herself tied up for you. not until you felt her fingers drag across your now exposed skin while simultaneously giving your neck the softest kisses you’ve ever received.

“will you let me?”

she didn’t even need to ask. and she didn’t need to hear an answer from you. kissing her with never-before-seen passion was enough of a confirmation from you. wonyoung appreciates how you always allowed her to have control whenever things escalated. both of you knew you were too clueless about all this, but fortunately wonyoung wasn’t.

and thank heavens for that.

wonyoung tugs gently on your hair with one hand and holds your jaw tightly with the other, deepening the kiss, practically shoving her tongue inside your mouth and establishing dominance early on just because she so loves feeling the moment you submit to her. it happens when your shoulders relax, your hands fall on her thighs, and your hips desperately grind towards hers to quench your thirst. it’s a massive ego boost and if it wasn’t for you, wonyoung would feed on it until it consumed her… but she doesn’t allow that to happen. not anymore.

you deserve the utmost care and love and that was what she wanted to give you. what she will give you.

“mmhn.. wonyoung…” who would’ve thought that the brilliant young actress that the entire nation adores for her kind heart, bright-as-the-stars smile and unrivaled poise would elicit such sounds for a lover? but then again, jang wonyoung is not just any lover, is she?

wonyoung pulls your top over your head and tosses it elsewhere. she refused to believe that it was the wine that made you look a thousand times more delectable than usual, but rather, she accepted that you were just that stunning. with your hair unkempt in the most perfect way, your lip tint a mess on your face, chest heaving up and down, eyes clouded with longing… and the cherry on top? seeing that you were wearing the bra that wonyoung got you a few months back.

the younger girl bites her bottom lip at the sight, “please, have some patience.” whether wonyoung said that to you or to her very own hunger for you was unclear. she repositions herself so that she was now on all fours, her lips attached to yours once again but now… you had her hands on her. you wanted to feel her skin on yours, but wonyoung had plans of her own. she ignores your needy whines and your desperate attempts to undress her with great difficulty and continues on making a mess of your mind using her lips alone.

eventually, you were sitting on the couch while wonyoung was on her knees in front of you. your bra had been cast aside as well, leaving you fully topless. what a sight to behold, really. wonyoung spots a faint hickey on your collarbone, the one that she remembers putting there herself when she couldn’t help it after you both arrived at the lodge. there was another one on your shoulder which looked a lot more recent—that was from when she dragged you into the shower with her two days ago, and she was particularly proud of that one too!

you held wonyoung’s stare as her hand traveled slowly from your chest to your stomach. she was teasing you. enticing you to make a desperate action just so she can shut it down and hear you beg… but you know her game, and you don’t feel like playing it this time. besides, she asked you to ‘have some patience’! you weren’t one to disobey when she asked so nicely.

lifting your hips, wonyoung successfully got your shorts off of you and left them to fall at your ankles. “aww, you’re all ready for me.” wonyoung said smugly, staring at the wet spot on your underwear. add that to the list of things wonyoung finds so adorable about you; you can get riled up so easily, it’s sometimes unbelievable. and yet, you were never too needy and would rather wait for wonyoung to initiate something. she almost hated how patient you can really be, but hey, she was the one who asked for it!

“a-are you sure we should be doing this without closing the c-curtains—i mean, what if someone… some…” your words trail off, having been distracted with the way wonyoung gently presses her fingertips against your clothed clit and rubs very slow circles on it. and all of a sudden you didn’t care anymore. the mild shrubbery in front of the lodge was enough of a cover, you suppose.

“hm? what was that, unnie?”

“nothing.. noth—ah!” you squeak after wonyoung unexpectedly pressed hard on your clit, but cover your mouth immediately. but it’s not like anyone would hear, anyway. all of the other lodges are quite a distance away and you would have to be screaming for them to hear you and that, wonyoung feels, is quite timely because that was exactly what she wanted to do. as if it wasn’t obvious already, wonyoung has been a lot more head-over-heels for you than usual. she truly believes that she was falling in love with you all over again and the last time that happened, wonyoung had to run after you as you were leaving an event just to tell you about all about the feelings she has had for you. of course, that led to the wonderful relationship you have now… but just what else can wonyoung do this time?

“come here.” she pulls you in for a kiss. it was softer this time but it wasn’t any less passionate than the last. it almost felt like a reminder that even though her heart was on fire, wonyoung will still take care of you and you know what? that was basically the only reassurance that you needed to completely submit.

soon enough, your panties joined the pile of your clothes on the ground. wonyoung had started attacking your neck, her lips latching onto every inch of your skin and leaving lovely red marks in her wake. you’d tell her to be careful not to make them too red, or not to leave too much if it didn’t feel so good, if the way wonyoung’s fingers wasn’t so distracting with just how much she was teasing you. oh, to hell with it—you start grinding against her hand, paying no mind to how wonyoung couldn’t help but break into a smile while she worked her lips down to your chest. she wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you as close as you can be to her before catching one of your nipples in her mouth.

your hands dig through wonyoung’s beautiful hair while your moans fill the warm, empty air. it was getting harder and harder to pay attention to anything at this point. all you can hear was wonyoung’s soft moans and heavy breathing, and it reminded you of how much you would have loved to switch roles and please her yourself, but wonyoung was sweet enough to take charge and you need this. “mmn… mommy, open up for me… please?” the younger girl whispered against your skin. you lift one leg up, giving wonyoung all the access she wanted and more. 

you leaned further back on the cushions of the couch as wonyoung inserted two fingers inside you. she was slow, careful. she always gave you chances to back out if you didn’t feel comfortable enough to do any of this with her. and once she knew that you truly wanted this, she allowed herself to relax and start her work. although, her steady pace didn’t last long—each second that passed, she only thrusted faster, wanting to hear you moan over and over again. she kept glancing up from your chest, looking at your expressions and smiling to herself while she alternated between sucking on your tits and leaving marks all over them. not having had enough of it all, you started rocking your hips towards the younger girl’s hand, desperately chasing after even more pleasure.

occasionally, wonyoung would wince at how hard you tugged at her hair. she knows you don’t do it on purpose and she does like it, plus it gives her reason to, say, ‘get back at you’ by biting your skin and making you wince. and it was when she bit on your collarbone that you moaned her name wonderfully. pride surges within wonyoung. more, she wanted, and faster she went. her fingers reached deeper than they ever have before and out of your mouth came sounds wonyoung was hearing for the first time, so she kept it up.

“tell me,” wonyoung says. you hear her, but you don’t respond. “am i doing goo—mmpf!” you silenced wonyoung by quickly pulling her hair and crashing your lips together. your free hand clutches on her shoulders for dear life, your nails digging into the skin exposed by her off-shoulder blouse.

“yes…! hmnn… you’re being so good, love…” you answered as your lips briefly parted hers. wonyoung, overwhelmed by adrenaline, moans at the praise. she was soaking wet herself; her core ached for attention and your praises, your lips, and your tightness wasn’t making anything easy for her. but oh, sweet and selfless wonyoung wouldn’t stop pleasing you just as you’re about to reach your climax just so she can get off instead. she hides her face on the crook of your neck, now stimulating your clit with her thumb and driving you into a frenzy.

“i love you so much, unnie… i’ll make it up to you properly later on but—hah… but for now,” wonyoung releases your waist from her hold and places her hand behind your other thigh before pushing your leg back. “cum for me.” she mutters right against your ear. a shiver runs down your spine before you succumb and the knot in your stomach breaks. wonyoung held you as you came, trying her very hardest not to cum with you because not only will that be embarrassing but also because surely you would tease her for cumming untouched!

wonyoung pulled her fingers out of you once you were calm again. you smile at her as you didn’t have the energy to speak just yet… nor did you have the energy to do anything else at all. while wonyoung was busy cleaning up her fingers (using her mouth, naturally), you just so happened to notice that she had her legs closed a bit too tightly, and her face was flushed way beyond normal. and then, you knew. your poor, darling angel needed you too!

you went on to move yourself back down on the mattress on the floor, then, you took a hold of wonyoung’s sleeve and pulled her down with you as you lay yourself down on your back. wonyoung was confused, albeit being totally into whatever you were planning. it was when you slid a leg in between her thighs and pressed it against her throbbing core that she knew. and oh, was she ready. 

you tucked wonyoung’s hair behind her ear, and warmth blooms inside your chest when she smiles at you, “let’s make this night last, wonyoung-ah.” you mumbled as you placed a soft kiss on her nose.

“whatever you want, my love.”

well, turns out you really didn’t need that necklace, after all.

[changetyre]

Broken ⒾⓈⓌ

SUMMARY: You and Max are having trouble trying to grow your family and your daughters are affected by it. Part of the Verstappen Family Verse

WARNINGS: Angst, miscommunication, pregnancy issues, a smidge of smut at the end.

A/N: This was requested over on Wattpad. Despite the angst, this is one of my favorite parts of this series.

Max stretched out, his back feeling painful after carrying all the presents he'd bought up from the parking lot before stashing them in a high cupboard in the house where he was sure nobody would look. It was late and he'd spent most of the day out looking for gifts, although truly it was also an excuse to get some space since the environment at home wasn't the best right now. 

The house was quiet when he arrived, a good indicator the girls were already asleep in their room and you as well probably. Although only a few months ago there wouldn't be a day you wouldn't wait for Max before going to bed, physically unable to go to sleep without hearing his voice but lately things had changed and you and Max often went to bed without exchanging any words at all. 

Once he finally made his way to your bedroom he wasn't surprised to find you were in fact asleep, clothes scattered around the room which you also hadn't bothered to clean up. Max sighed, he was tired having not really had a day of relaxation since the season ended despite imagining he'd spend his winter holidays differently, that things would somehow get better. 

He proceeded to pick up the room a little bit making it a little more presentable before taking a quick shower and joining you in bed. While his skin screamed to feel yours Max didn't feel comfortable enough to do so anymore, not knowing how you'd react to him placing an arm around you like he had done every night since you'd gotten together..until a few months ago. 

The next morning Max woke up to find you'd woken up but stayed laying there simply staring up at the ceiling, he knew your mind was spiraling but truly didn't want to ask anymore knowing you'd shut him out.  

"Hey," Max asked. His voice almost felt too loud for the silence. 

"Hi." Your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound almost strange to him not used to hearing it often anymore. 

"How d'you sleep?" Max asked. 

"I'm gonna go make breakfast for the girls." you ignored his question avoiding eye contact as you left the room leaving no more space for conversation. 

Once Max got himself ready for the day he went out to join you for breakfast finding you'd already eaten and were in the process of washing the dishes. He'd be lying if he said this didn't hurt him but held back from saying anything not wanting to start an argument. 

The rest of the day was mostly spent in silence apart from the laughter and ruckus from your children there were no words exchanged between you and Max. At some point, Max left the house once more wanting space. 

"Mama," Ivy called you as you played with both your daughters in the balcony. 

"Yeah, baby." Your daughters naturally made you smile, probably the only time you showed any sort of emotion lately. 

"Do you and Papa not love each other anymore?" She asked. 

Your heart skipped a beat, the immediate urge to cry reaching your throat and you only hoped your eyes gave no indication to the sudden burst of emotion. You noticed the way Lea's smile also dropped at the question, her attention ready to hear your answer. 

"Uhm, of course we do baby why would you think that?" You asked hoping your shaky voice didn't worry your daughters. 

"Papa doesn't blink at you anymore...like dis mama." Ivy showed you by blinking her eyes hard three times just like her father used to do to you almost daily before. 

The reminder of this almost broke you, you began picking up the girl's toys making sure they weren't able to see your face properly as you began crying. "You don't have to worry girls, everythings okay with Papa and me." You lied to your daughters, and it was evident by the weakness of your voice but you weren't sure what else to say. 

"Mama, are you okay?" Lea asked this time, her voice filled with concern, she was growing up, she of course noticed things, possibly understood things a little more than her sister and you knew you were hurting her, hurting them both and thought of this killed you inside. 

"I'm fine Lea, why don't you take your sister to your room and watch a movie, I'm gonna shower." You tried your best to force a smile wiping your eyes with the back of your hand before facing your older daughter. 

Lea simply nodded not wanting to cause you more distress before taking Ivy's hand and guiding her away. Once they were gone you let yourself cry it out. 

Trying and failing to conceive another child had been more emotionally draining than you had ever imagined it would be. You and Max had tried, tried, and tired to the point making love to him wasn't exciting anymore, it was frustrating, full of desperation, and so eventually, you stopped. You stopped trying, stopped connecting, stopped loving.  

Silence seemed like the easiest solution, not willing to face the reality of it all. Drowning in your own thoughts was exhausting but it seemed like the better option since potentially hearing the way you let down your partner, your family was worse. 

But it was obvious now, it was obvious how much this was already hurting your family so you had to toughen up now, muster enough strength to talk to Max, talk to your husband, and face whatever was next for you, whether good or bad it had to better than letting your daughters see the way things were falling apart between you. 

___________

Max once again came home to silence, he could hear the TV on in the girl's room and he didn't want to go to his room so instead decided to try to wrap up the presents in secret while he had the time. 

Max was semi-successful, his daughters had walked out of their room and been insistent on wanting to know what Max was doing despite him telling them several times to go back to their rooms and his patience was wearing thin. 

He was only able to get them to stay in their rooms after promising them a play date with their uncle Lando on the weekend if they behaved. Finally knowing they would stay in their rooms Max took the time to try to hide the gifts again so he could put them under the tree by the end of the month. 

He'd headed to the bathroom and when he came back anger and frustration flooded him at seeing Lea helping Ivy up to the counter to try to open the cupboard where he'd stashed the gifts. 

"LEA!" Max yelled letting his emotions control him for the first time with his daughters. 

Lea and Ivy both gasped and Max ran to catch Ivy who almost slipped off the counter trying to get down quickly. 

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING! WERE YOU EVEN THINKING!? YOUR SISTER COULD'VE GOTTEN HURT!" Max yelled at his older daughter. 

You heard the commotion from the room running out to check on the situation. "I WANT YOU BOTH IN YOUR ROOMS, NO TV, NO GAMES, GO STRAIGHT TO BED!" Max continued yelling. 

Both Ivy and Lea were in tears at seeing their dad so angry for the first time in their lives, running straight to their rooms. 

"Max calm down." Your heart broke, you knew Max was never like this with your daughters and it scared you to see this side of him come out, feeling partly guilty for it. 

"Oh wow...so now you decide to talk to me." Max scoffed pushing past you and into your room. 

Your heart broke at the action, but he was right. You knew he needed time to cool off so you headed to your daughter's room to check on them. 

Opening the door you had to try to hold back your own tears at the sight. Lea held Ivy in her arms as they both sobbed. You couldn't say anything to afraid to burst into tears so instead sat by your daughter's bed and hugged them both. 

"I-I-I'm so-so-sorry-ma-ma." Lea hiccuped not being able to catch her own breath at how much she cried. 

This time you felt a few tears run down your cheeks. "Hey baby it's okay." You took her face in your hands trying to soothe her. "Lea honey it's okay." You blew gently on your daughter's face trying to calm her down. 

"Pa-pa's- ang-angr-angry." she continued hiccuping. 

"I know darling he shouldn't have yelled like that baby. He loves you so much, we both do." You reminded her kissing her forehead. 

Eventually, Ivy had fallen asleep crying on her sister's lap so you picked her up and moved her to her bed tucking her in. You then went back to your older daughter who was having a little bit of a harder time settling down. 

"Lea listen sometimes people get angry at other things and they feel so angry for a long time that when something else happens they just blow up and scream." You tried your best to explain to your daughter. 

"Like papa?" She asked. 

"Yeah like Papa Baby, Papa's feeling a lot of things because of something else and unfortunately he just took it out on you." You revealed. 

Little did you know Max was listening from outside, after cooling off a little he felt bad and meant to go apologize to his daughters but stopped once he heard you inside with them. 

"But why?" Lea asked. "Why is papa angry mama?" Lea was almost 6, you knew she was starting to get a better grasp of things and you also knew being honest with her would be the best thing for her right now so after thinking about it for a few seconds you decided to just be honest with her. 

"Do you remember on Ivy's 2nd birthday when she wished for a brother?" You asked your daughter. 

"Yeah," Lea replied moving her head to look up at you. 

"Well your Papa and I after that, after talking a lot tried to make another baby..."Your voice broke. 

Max's heart broke at hearing you struggle to speak. 

"Well, we tried for a long time and Mama just couldn't get another baby in her tummy which made both Mama and Papa really really sad." You revealed. 

"Why won't the baby go in your tummy mama?" Lea asked innocently, reaching for her little hand to wipe some tears off your cheek. 

"I don't know baby, maybe mommy's broken." You were full-on crying but you could see your daughter's understanding eyes at the situation. 

"Is that why Papa doesn't say I love you with his eyes anymore?" Lea asked again, oblivious to the impact her question had on her parents. Max fell to his knees outside the room distraught at the guilt he could hear in your voice, and about the fact that his daughters and possibly you thought he didn't love you anymore. 

"I don't know honey...maybe. It's not easy when you want something really really bad and you just can't get it so it can make you feel a lot of things, mommy feels like it's her fault that the baby doesn't want to go in her tummy." You tried to finish explaining. 

"I'm sorry Mama." Lea apologized once more. "But even if you are broken mama I'll still love you the same, I'll even say it with my eyes if you want." Lea smiled imitating her dad by blinking her eyes I love you just like her dad used to do. 

This time your tears were of gratitude at feeling the love your daughter had for you, the simplicity with which her mind understood the situation and tried to make you feel better. "Thank you, baby." You hugged your daughter placing kisses on her cheek. 

Lea settled enough, feeling a little better at understanding why things had been a little weird at home lately. You watched her fall asleep. You took a deep breath ready to have a difficult conversation with your husband praying it might go a little similar to the conversation you had with your daughter. 

You walked out of their room and were surprised to find Max sitting outside, his back to the wall with his face in his hands. You could tell he'd been crying from the wet spots on his shirt and trousers. 

"Maxy." You fell to your knees beside him. 

Max pulled his hands away as you both wrapped your arms around each other at the same time. You both started crying in each other's arms, Max holding you tightly against him. 

"You're not broken, I never thought so either I just wanted you to talk to me." He whispered. "I love you so much and I'm sorry I ever let you doubt it, and I'm sorry for screaming at Ivy and Lea, I'm just- I'm so sorry for everything" Max cried tucking his face in the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I felt so useless and frustrated I couldn't get pregnant. I know how long you've been trying to hold it together for us, for all of us and I shouldn't have ever let you carry all of it on your own. I'm sorry too for everything."  You also apologized. "I love you, Max, I don't think I'll ever be able to stop loving you I just wanted to give us another baby." 

"I know." Max sighed pulling back and wiping tears from under your eyes with his thumbs. "Look I would love to have another baby with you, I'd have a 100 if it was with you but I'm so enamored by the family you've given me already, our girls...they're the best thing that have ever happened to me and if trying to have another baby is gonna cost us...us...than I don't want it." Max was honest. 

You nodded agreeing with his words. 

"It doesn't mean we stop trying, we can if that's what you want but I just want you back first, I need us to be okay before trying again okay?" He asked you. 

"Yeah." You agreed once more. 

Max rested his forehead against yours. You heard him take a deep breath. "God I missed you." he sighed before leaning down to place his lips against yours. 

You kissed him back harshly almost desperate to taste him again mentally questioning yourself how you were able to survive without this for as long as you did. "I love you," you whispered as you momentarily pulled away to catch your breath. 

But Max kept kissing you not wanting for this to stop, as if his body was trying to catch up on all the time he spent without your touch. "I love you." He whispered back scooping you into his lap, your legs wrapping around him as he stood up with you in his arms before taking you to your bedroom. 

Laying you down on your shared bed it once again felt right, being shared with him. Max was quick to get you naked, teasing you as he prepared you for him.

"I adore you." He whispered as he slipped into you. You'd be okay.

[tiny-space-platypus]

Half baked idea time!!

DC/dp au where it's like late teens/warily twenties punk Danny being tired as shit. Like this man just wants to sit on a roof top, patch himself up, maybe smoke then go back to having to do inner dimensional politics or another fight. But Danny can't have that instead every time he tries a hero either thinks he's going to kill himself and tries to intervene or some sort of fight breaks out and his stupid core makes him have a mighty need to assist. Also, where the hell did all these heroes come from, ancients knew they weren't there when he needed help. He's just a tad bit bitter about the only time he's getting attention from heroes is the only time he doesn't want it. He goes everywhere just trying to catch a break.

Or

Danny tries to find some peace and fucking quiet only to end up freak out the league because dear god this kid is going through it and they need to get him before he becomes a supervillain or something.

Metropolis

Chills for 5 minutes seeing Superman nopes the hell out of there cursing in kryptonian. He deals with his kind enough in the realms he doesn't want to deal with the living either. "Nope! Not today! Not dealing with you today!"

Superman is freaking out because there's a kid that was sitting on top of the daily planet only to disappear speaking his language??? He also had a really slow heart beat? Was that child alright??

Coast city

Danny's on a large skyscape sitting on the edge watching the streets below as he patches himself up and lights a smoke only to have it glow green and ripped from him.

"You know, this stuff isn't exactly good for you. Especially on skyscrapers. Besides you seem a little young to be smoking."

Danny who looks like he wants to tackle Hal pit of the god damn sky for interrupting his break. "I feel like I'm too young for a lot of things but here we are"

Hal starts some sort of space cop speech and Danny decides fuck this and jumps off the building mouthing "Acab" with a salute and disappear giving the green Lantern a heart attack. Since he thinks he's about to save a kid from falling to his death only for the kid to not be there.

Central City

Danny is yet again trying to relax on a skyscraper only to be interrupted by the flash. At least this time the hero doesn't take his smokes instead just sits next to him. It's nice actually, the quiet white noise of the city below shining how stars would in the sky. Eventually Danny would finish his smoke and put it out before shoving the bud in his pocket. (He won't litter) as soon as Danny stood up the flash grabbed him forcing him back to sitting.

"Look kid, I don't know what's going on but there's gotta be a better way than this. I'll help you if you need help just-"

Danny now staring at him. A little dumbfounded then laughed.

"I'm not trying to kill myself. Just wanted to smoke in peace." Danny looks down at the ground from 150 meters up "besides I've fallen from worse"

"Great! Wait what?" The Flash looked relieved for a second then proceeded the second part of what Danny just said. The flash only looked away for less then a second which gave Danny just enough time to disappear scaring the shit out of the hero.

Bludhaven

Danny after having a rather rough fight as phantom with his parents. Bleeding and mumbling curses as he patches himself up on another skyscraper. "Stupid ecto-gun, stupid laws, stupid, stupid"

Just as Danny started to patch a literal hole in his side Nightwing would make his appearance. "Back away-"

Danny snapped at the hero. "You've got to be fucking- I'm trying to kill myself, Yes I'm injured, no I do not want help, yes I'm fine. Will you be going now?"

Nightwing paused then sat next to the kid a little disturbed. As he watches this kid doing stitches on himself. "Bad day?"

Danny snorted as he finished stitching himself up with fishing wire. "Bad life" He then started smoking again making the vigilante frown. This kid was nowhere near old enough to smoke but the kid was also giving himself stitches on a roof so not the worst thing this kid has done so far. "Wanna tell me what happened?"

Danny shrugged. "My parents shot me again"

"I'm sorry what? Again?!"

[mahalkitamully]

a better stress reliever ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

: leon kennedy x reader

content warning !! : mature content ahead (no unprotected sex you freaks), praise kink, marks (biting/hickieshenwajhfnejf), but I promise it's kinda fluffy :3

sub to dom leon muwahahah

i've never wrote smut before, so expect this to be kind of cookie cutter. (I was too embarrassed rereading it and making sure it was good so y'all getting this the way it was playing out in my head)

一

"baby we really gotta find healthier stress relievers for you." you spoke, gently taking the unopened bottle from Leon's hand. "like what?" he grumbled, eyeing the bottle in your hand as you thought for a bit.

"we can't go out right now.. so why don't we just- watch a movie together or something? quality time together y'know?"

he paused, before nodding. you led him to the couch and he sat a little further away. whenever he was stressed he didn't really want to be touched so you gave him space. you let him pick a movie and half way through it, he grabbed your waist, pulling you closer towards him.

"i'm sorry-." he mumbled, his hand softly caressing your side as you smiled lightly. "it's alright babe."

as the movie progressed, his hand found its way to your thigh, then slowly rode up ever so slightly. you eyed him, your head tilted as you stared at him confused. "what're you doing?" you asked and he immediately moved his hand back down. "sorry- i- just-.. you're so.. attractive-." he spoke lamely, his eyes avoiding yours. despite his boldness, your comfort came first to him.

you rolled your eyes before he frowned slightly, his thumb tracing circles on your leg. "..baby can i..?"

"can you what?" you asked, tilting your head. you knew what he wanted but- fuck he's so pretty when he begs.

"...can I touch you? I think that'll be a healthy stress reliever.." he was cute when he flirted- even if it was a little lame.

"what's the magic word?"

"please? can I please touch you? fuck.. I want to so bad baby please.." he looked at you, his finger continuing to draw shapes on your leg before you smiled proudly. he eagerly walked with you to the bedroom, gently pushing you onto the bed.

he started slow- or at least tried to. he kissed you softly for a second before tilting his head, deepening the kiss as his tongue pressed against your lips. you crawled on top of him, his hands gently caressing your chest before trailing down your stomach, his finger tips at the waistband of your underwear.

"nuh uh.. not yet.." you spoke, gently moving his hand away as you grinded on his growing boner. he let out a muffled grunt, his brows furrowed as he held your hips tightly, his eyes fluttering shut. "fuck.." he cursed under his breath, a wet spot growing on his pants.

"please baby stop teasing.. please I wanna touch you so bad.." he groaned out, his hands gripping your hips tightly. you shook your head, smiling sadistically.

after a while (five minutes was all it took, baby was stressed.), he quickly took you off him, pinning you down under him before he placed his knee between your legs gently. "I can't wait anymore.." he mumbled, before hastily taking your shirt off. he leaned down, placing hungry hickies on your chest as his hands struggled to take his own clothes off.

after leaving trails of hickies on you, he unzipped his pants, his already leaking tip pink and ready for you. he gently kissed your nose before speaking once more.

"m'gonna fuck you now baby ok..?" he mumbled and waited for your nod once more. as soon as you did, he slowly pushed inside of you, his head dipping down to kiss your neck once more. once all of him was inside, he took a breath and paused, the tip of his dick hitting inside of you right where you needed it to be.

he always waited for your signal to move, never proceeding until then. "doing so good baby.. fuck... you- hah.. you feel so good.." he groaned, his hands gently holding yours as he placed kisses on your face, trailing your neck and collarbone.

he whispered praises into your ear, his breath hot as he slowly thrusted inside you- in and out skillfully.

"leon.." you moaned, your eyes shutting as you felt him moving inside of you. "I love hearing you say my name.." he felt you grip the back of his shoulders, your eyes teary as he quickened his pace. "shh.. you're doing great baby don't worry shhh.." he kissed your tears away, both your bodies shimmering with sweat.

despite his sweet praise, his movements were rough and fast. he left hickies and bites on your neck, his cock hitting deep inside you.

"are you close sweetie? 'cause I am.." he whispered, biting your neck as he kept his pace. your body shook as the coil in your gut releases, both your breaths heavy.

he kissed your cheek gently, as you smiled weakly. "thank you babe.." he whispered before slowly pulling out, standing up shakily as he reached for his boxers. "i'll get you some water and we can go show okay?"

一

i've never written smut before.. i'm sorry if it's bad!! to my irl friends no u didn't see this.

[shun-ie]

₍⁠₍⁠ ⁠◝ documented inspiration (suna rintarou)

content : established relationship, mentions of sex pictures/videos, filming, groping, teasing, riding, hickeys, creampie, belly bulge, overstimulation, dry orgasm, crying with tears (from pleasure), doesn't follow original plot, writer!amab!reader, volleyballplayer!suna, lmk if i missed anything :))

[not proofread]

m.list !

suna rintarou. a man who documents his life through pictures and videos. a man who is secretly fond of memories, but doesn't show it.

it was during college he met the love of his life. l/n y/n. an unknown author online, famous for his fictitious short stories.

throughout college, suna's phone was filled with candid pictures, stolen shots, and cute little videos of his one and only. which had atsumu complaining one time, trying to find pictures of the lessons he had missed when he was in the nurses office because he sprained his ankle by stupidly jumping down a flight of stairs.

"man, you should think about buying another phone if you'll just fill your shit up with y/n's face," atsumu deadpanned at suna after finding out the latter deleted the lessons due to lack of storage. obviously to make more space for y/n reasons.

suna scoffed, turning away from him and walking down the hallway to their next class, "i don't need another. one is enough." atsumu follows after him, trying to reason with him about this documenting obsession of his.

it had gotten to the point where suna had to get another phone because be refused to delete any pictures and videos of y/n.

sitting against the headboard, setting up his new phone, his boyfriend hums a bit, making him look up in question, "what is it?"

y/n chuckles, "it's just adorable that you have so many pictures of me." he scrolls through second year pictures when they first met, then abruptly stopping on a picture he has never seen in their current year. "rin . . ." pink colors his cheeks as he stares at the photo intensely. "when did you take this?" he hands the phone over to his boyfriend's awaiting hand before slamming his face into the softness of the duvets and blankets.

"oh? i thought i put this in a separate file?" suna murmurs, making y/n squirm with a muffled 'there's more!?'. he lifts his head with a flushed face, sitting up and makes a quick grab for the phone.

suna, noticing his movements, holds it out of his reach and gives him a smirk. y/n huffs and reaches for it again, fighting for the phone, failing to realize how close they've become. suna spreads his legs wider as y/n crawls in to close their distance.

it took suna's lips pressing against his to realize their proximity. before he could pull away, a firm hand pressing against the back of his head keeps their lips locked.

y/n's eyes flutter close, raising his hands to cup suna's cheeks, pulling him into a deeper kiss. he hums, raising his hips to straddle his boyfriend.

suna abandons both phones and gropes y/n's ass, getting comfortable for the long session he engaged them in. y/n pulls away out of breath, proceeding to kiss down his partner's neck, nibbling and leaving feathery but prickling touches. he licks a strip and sucks on suna's adam's apple, drawing out a low groan from said man.

suna's grip sinks into y/n's flesh, "fuck." he stares up at the ceiling of their shared dorm room, feeling the uncomfortable constraints of his shorts. just as his mind got lost in the clouds of pleasure, he is deprived of that desire as y/n pulls away with a simple peck right beside the forming hickey on the center of his neck. he groans in response, squeezing the mounds in his palms, and drags out a disappointed, "why?"

y/n moves the hands groping his ass to his hips and sits on his shins, waving suna's document filled phone which he had taken in the middle of his ministration, a sly grin on his swollen and saliva coated lips, "you gonna show me your file or should i hide this?"

y/n unlocks the phone to the sight of his hole being filled to the brim with cum, dripping down his thighs as suna plugs it all inside and adds more to the load. a thumb is being pushed in alongside his length, trying and failing to give the camera a view inside his warm cavern.

an amused feeling washes over suna as he watches y/n's eyes take in every detail of the picture, zooming in some areas, and tracing every dribble of cum going down his thighs and onto the sheets with his gaze.

suna seems to forget that y/n also writes erotic and smutty stories.

after graduating, y/n started to publish books in both hardcover and paperback, but still continued making money from posting early access chapters of his new collections online. suna pursued his volleyball career and even got a small side job for when he was bored.

they got an apartment together and christened every room after settling in. they take advantage of the soundproof walls any free time they have.

it was one of those times where the day went by so slow. y/n was on his laptop, finishing off a chapter with a troubled face while suna skipped through channels on the television.

a stressed out grunt gains suna's attention, laying his eyes on y/n who was now standing up and pacing around the dining table, wearing an expression he was all too familiar with. "writer's block?"

y/n sighs out loud, padding towards his lover and slumping right into suna's arms, and stuffing his face into the crook his neck, "hold me, i'm stressed."

suna laughs, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend, rubbing his back in comfort, "can i offer any sort of assistance?" y/n peeks up at him, thinking deeply about it. he then nods and gets up, an innocently suspicious smile painting his sinful lips.

"yes, you absolutely can."

"fuck, this is so erotic," suna grunts out, squeezing y/n's thighs with one hand while the other held a phone up, recording every single second of his boyfriend bouncing up and down on his dick.

y/n shamelessly moans out loud, reaching up to grope his chest, pinching his nipples to add to the ecstasy he was feeling. suna's slides his grip up to his hips, rubbing the pad of his thumb on the supple flesh. "so hot."

suna lets out a broken chuckle, breathing heavily as he's being taken to the gates of heaven. "all this so you could write out a scene for your book?" he directs the camera to y/n's face as he shoved two fingers inside his gaping mouth, pressing against his tongue. "you like being recorded don't you?"

"owmwy fwow wouu," y/n whines out, his words blocked by the fingers in his mouth. he gasps when he feels suna's cock go deeper into him, his hands trails down his body—his movements being followed by the camera—pressing over the bulge forming in his belly. "swo dweew," he cries out.

suna takes his fingers out and wraps his wet hand around his boyfriend's erection, mixing the saliva with the pre-cum. he times y/n's bounces with his jerking, pushing the man on top of him reeling from the overwhelming pleasure.

he points the camera to their joined parts, zooming in at all the juices and past ejaculations leaking out of y/n's hole, "look at that, my own automatic fleshlight," he bites out, letting out a ragged breath, his hand shaking from the on-coming flood of hedonism.

the skin slapping, moans, groans, and grunts were all that filled the room, with occasional squelching. though at this point, y/n didn't care about his book. he would never admit it, but being recorded and documented brought some sort of thrill to him and oddly happiness.

the thrill is, what if suna loses his phone? what if someone gets a hold of it? what if they get in and go through the gallery and the forbidden file? a sex file full of l/n y/n.

he didn't want that to happen, but what if? putting that aside, his happiness stems from the idea of suna looking back and relieving himself just by looking at him or even watching all the videos he started taking when he found that picture once upon a time.

god, he sounds like a freak.

y/n tightened around suna's length, squeezing a guttural groan from him. "i- ah!~" he pants, grabbing his partner's wrist and trying to slow his continuous actions on his dick. "p-please . . . i feel . . . hah . . . like i'm about to . . . hngg . . ." he throws his head back, mouth hanging open as his eyes roll back, spraying cum onto the camera and suna's body and face.

before he could come back from being submerged in euphoria, he is drowned further as suna flips their position over. he grunts right beside y/n's ear, pressing against him despite the hot and sticky mess in between them. "you think it's all over?"

suna ruts harder and faster, pushing y/n completely over the edge of overstimulation. "i think," a huff, "you should put this in your book."

he grins to himself, seeing how y/n's body shook, in a high he can't get over. "s'too much," he sobs out, tears sliding down his temples, mixing with the sweat in his damp hair.

suna leaned down and pressed his lips against his boyfriend's, murmuring against them, "you want me to stop baby?" y/n merely shakes his head, his body continuing to quiver.

"s'too much," y/n moans out dumbly, "s'too good." he mumbles out more incoherent words in between sobs and mewls, his back arching, completely off the bed as the creeping feeling approaches him once more. he was seeing stars, even the galaxies.

suna hisses, feeling y/n tighten even more. he plants his face in y/n's hickey ridden neck, a moan ripping out his throat. the release he was delaying, coming closer and closer like a thread hanging on for dear life. "fuck!"

as if thrown up into the clouds, suna moans out as everything unravels in his free fall of satisfied pleasure, coating y/n's insides with more white, filling him up deep. y/n on the other hand couldn't let out anything, but a cry.

as if everything had fallen into place, suna rolls his hips to ride out both their highs. he then stops, crashing on top of y/n, who's too disoriented and exhausted to make a sound of protest. he merely lets out a croaky, "s'full . . ."

'he had a dry orgasm,' suna tiredly thought. he realized when he didn't feel anything hot between them. he pulled his softening cock out and draped the duvet over him and y/n. he spooned his boyfriend into his arms and cuddles into him.

y/n was knocked unconscious after saying his last words, head empty and body heavy and possibly hurting in the morning. but suna would take care of him like he always did.

"oh my," y/n whispers to himself, watching himself on suna's new phone. he saw how his cum sprayed all over the camera, he listened to how dirty he had sounded. he was currently bedridden (in new sheets of course), the pain in his lower spines disabling him from walking temporarily.

suna laughs, peeling tangerines for y/n. "yes, oh my is the right reaction," he placed the now peeled fruit on the plate, "were you that pent up after i went to play for eliminations? i mean, it was for a week." he took the phone and replayed his most favorite part. being showered in cum. "you missed my dick that much?" he teased, showing him the scene once more.

y/n pouts and blushes, as he watches himself spray cum again. "everything was just so erotic . . . you recoding me . . . it really got me going," he quietly admits, wringing his fingers nervously.

his boyfriend merely laughs a little and smiles at him, "you're so cute." suna pecks his nose lightly before handing him an orange, "you gonna write about it?"

y/n ponders and nods his head. "yes. and thank you, by the way," he smiles back at him, breaking the fruit in half and giving the one to suna. "do you want me to do anything in return?" the inquiry surprised his boyfriend, not expecting anything in return, only because he prioritizes y/n's happiness over all.

"hmm . . . i want you to sit on my face when you're all better."

[azrielandhisshadows]

winter's kiss (2)

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 1.8k

summary: after finding your mate at the High Lords meeting, you go through all the emotions that come with it, only, your older brother, Kallias, isn't happy about who your mate is. emotional chaos and distress ensues.

warnings: overprotective Kallias, beginnings of a panic attack, brief mentions of torture/death

a/n: I had fun writing this second part. please let me know what you think and if you have any requests, feel free to leave them! if you want to be added to a taglist for this series, let me know!

part 1 part 3 part 4 part 5

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All attention remained on you and Azriel as your stares bore into each other. His eyes expressed an untold depth of emotion. You reached out for him, desperate to bridge the space between you and your mate. Kallais’s supportive touch changed to a tight grip around your arm.

“Kallias,” you whimpered, the pain evident in your voice. “You’re hurting me.” 

Kallias’s grip softened slightly, but he didn’t relent as he led you away from the group. His jaw was set with a tension unlike anything you had seen from your usually calm brother. A deep, primal growl rumbled from Azriel’s chest as he raced forward, his instincts in overdrive.

Cassian and Rhysand acted swiftly and placed themselves into Azriel’s path. Forming a strong barrier, they stopped him before he could slam his body into Kallias. “Az, please stop. Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” Rhysand said, his voice an urgent command.

Azriel stepped away, his posture tense as he struggled to contain his rage. His simmering fury melted away as he looked at you, his eyes filled with worry as he watched Kallias drag you farther away. 

“Kallias, please let me go,” you choked out as the golden thread of your mating bond urged you toward Azriel. “Y/N, I don’t want you around him. We’ll discuss this after the meeting,” Kallias spat out. Viviane shot him a look of disapproval, “Kallias, you can’t possibly expect to keep her away from her mate. What would you do if someone kept us away from each-“

“Viviane, enough. I am your High Lord. Do not question me,” Kallias bit out. Viviane let out an exasperated sigh and sat next to you. She placed an arm around your shoulder and let you lean into her. As the other High Lords filtered into the room, you couldn’t help but lean into Viviane as your eyes welled with tears.

The meeting, once longed for, became distant as your thoughts were focused on the presence of your mate. Your thoughts were interrupted as you heard, “Be careful how you speak about my High Lady,” come from across the room. The once golden thread connecting you to Azriel was filled with an unmistakable edge as he glared toward the High Lord of Spring. The command that flowed from your mate overwhelmed you as you leaned more into Viviane for comfort. 

As the meeting proceeded, Azriel’s attention returned to you. The rage and intimidation that once flowed from his posture ceased as he looked at you. You felt a pull from the bond that linked you to him, as if he could feel your discomfort from the scene that had played in front of you. He looked at you, his eyes filled with concern.

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. The instincts from the mating bond made your heart long for Azriel, but you couldn’t help wondering if your mate’s temper was always so volatile. You wondered how much Kallias knew of your new-found mate and if his knowledge contributed to his protective nature as the reveal of your mating bond. Looking toward your mate once more, you noticed Azriel’s saddened gaze focused on the ground. 

When the meeting drew to a close, you stood from your seat and began to walk towards Azriel. Before you could make it far, Kallias’s grip on your arm returned and led you away from the meeting room. He led you toward your room with Viviane at your side. As the door to your room slammed shut, the tension between the three of you was thick enough that it felt hard to breathe. Silence reigned between you and Kallias as you both looked at each other, waiting for someone to break the quiet. Viviane sighed, “Kallias, explain yourself.”

Kallias, his face wrought with tension and frustration, paced in front of the bed where Viviane sat comforting you. “Y/N, I am doing this for your safety. I have heard… terrible things about Azriel. He is a monster.” Confusion etched your features as you looked at your brother, your voice trembling, “I… I don’t understand.” 

“His role in the Night Court is based on pure violence. He is the Spymaster, Y/N. If anyone has information that benefits the Court and will not share it, he tortures them… and once he is done, he disposes of them.” Kallias trailed off, struggling to make eye contact with you. You choked out a breath as you sat and tried to process this information. The mating bond was supposed to be between two fae of equal power. If your mate was capable of such darkness, what did that mean about your power? You had always been in great control of your power, but in this moment, you couldn’t help but feel your hands begin to grow cold as the ice started to creep out. 

Kallias’s words hung in the room as an overwhelming presence. The statements he made about Azriel weighed heavily on you. The comfort and light that you had felt from your mating bond turned distant and cold against the reality of what Kallias described. Viviane’s comforting presence didn’t budge as the ice crept up your arms. She placed a soft hand on your shoulder, providing you safety from your inner turmoil.

“Kallias,” Viviane said, disapproval lining her tone. “We can’t judge Azriel based on rumors we’ve heard or on his role in the Night Court. We have all done unspeakable things. Y/N can’t be kept away from her mate because you are afraid.” 

Kallias’s face was grim, “I do not judge him lightly. His role is notorious for its brutality. Viviane, you and I have both seen the effects of it – death to those who do not cooperate. I can’t let Y/N be exposed to that.” 

The ice continued to spread up your arms and across your chest, panic setting in. “If Azriel is truly capable of such darkness, what does that say about my power?” The question was barely a whisper as you voiced your newfound fear. 

Viviane and Kallias’s intensity softened with concern as they looked at you. Tears began falling from your eyes, freezing once they hit your hands. “Y/N, you are not a monster.” Kallias said, his voice softening as he pulled you into a comforting embrace. “You and Azriel are equally powerful, but you would never use the powers the Cauldron blessed you with for evil.” 

Viviane leaned closer, her voice steady and supportive. “Kallias, please leave us. I need to talk to Y/N alone.” Kallias hesitated, but Viviane’s stern look made him step back, leaving you and Viviane alone.

“Y/N, look at me,” Viviane urged, gently tilting your head up. “Your brother is right—you are not a monster. You can’t let fear dictate your view of your bond. I don’t know Azriel well, but I do know Mor. From what I’ve heard, Azriel is a good male. His role may involve dark and unspeakable deeds, but he doesn’t take pleasure in them. He doesn’t harm innocents.”

The room was filled with uneasy silence as Viviane’s words settled between you. You struggled to process everything, the ice on your skin a chilling reminder of the fear that clung to you. Viviane’s calm presence was a lifeline, but your mind was still reeling.

“Viviane,” you said, your voice trembling. “I want to believe you, but the things Kallias said—they were so stark. How can I trust that Azriel is different from what I’ve heard?”

Viviane’s eyes softened with sympathy. She reached out and gently took your hands, still cold and icy from your turmoil. “I know it’s overwhelming, Y/N. It’s a lot to handle, but trust me when I say that there’s more to people than the roles they play.”

She paused, giving you a moment to absorb her words. “Mor has shared many stories about Azriel, and while his role as Spymaster is daunting, it doesn’t define the entirety of who he is. He does what is necessary to protect those he loves.”

You tried to focus on Viviane’s words, but the image of Azriel as a torturer loomed large in your mind. “What if I’m wrong about him? What if the bond isn’t enough to make me see who he truly is?”

Viviane shook her head gently, her gaze steady and full of sisterly reassurance. “The bond is more than just a connection of equal power. It’s about understanding, trust, and giving each other the chance to show who you really are. The fact that you’re struggling with this shows how much you care about understanding him, and that’s important.”

She squeezed your hands gently, the warmth from her touch slowly melting the ice that had crept over your skin. “It’s okay to be scared and confused. But remember, you don’t have to go through this alone. You have the right to explore and understand this bond on your own terms.”

The fear didn’t dissipate entirely, but Viviane’s comforting presence helped to shift it. “What if Kallias can’t see past his fears to understand Azriel?”

Viviane glanced at the door, where Kallias had been standing moments before. “Kallias loves you fiercely, Y/N. His fear comes from a place of wanting to protect you. He’s struggling to see beyond his own fears, but ultimately, he wants you to be happy. If pursuing your mating bond will make you happy, Kallias will come to understand your choices, even if your choices differ from what he wants.”

Her words offered a sliver of comfort as your unease dominated your thoughts. “Viviane,” you said, taking a deep breath, “I need some time to process all of this. Thank you for your help.”

Viviane’s expression softened with understanding and she pulled you into a comforting embrace. “Of course. Take all the time you need and, regardless of what you choose, your brother and I are always here for you.”

As Viviane left the room, you couldn’t help but sink into your bed as your fear and confusion overwhelmed you. The crystals of ice on your arms and chest served as a reflection of the chill on your emotions. Your room was unbearably quiet, amplifying the shouting of your racing thoughts. 

Tears streamed down your face as you tried to make sense of everything. The connection with Azriel, once a beacon of comfort, now felt tainted by fear. Exhausted from the emotional turmoil, you lay in your bed, the icy crystals on your skin serving as a reflection of your inner chaos. Just as you were about to slip into a fitful sleep, a soft knock at the door jolted you awake.

With a mix of hope and dread, you opened the door to find Azriel standing there, his hazel eyes filled with concern.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice a soothing balm amidst your distress.

“Azriel…”

[daistea]

First Burn — Mithrun x F!Reader

“You have a choice, Captain. You don’t have to follow me around if there’s something else you’d rather be doing.”

“There is something else I’d rather be doing,” he admitted with a slow nod.

—

post-canon, spoilers for Mithrun’s story

7000 words :0

NSFW! pls interact responsibly. No minors.

Disclaimer: I do not know how to write smut :)

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Recently, the world had stopped on its axis. Dungeons collapsed, entire countries burst up from the sea, and Mithrun of the House of Kerensil decided to try.

And he would spend the rest of his life trying. Sometimes, he succeeded. Sometimes, he did not. The other week, he felt an inkling in his chest that he translated as a new desire— for bread. A desire for fresh bread. You proceeded to fulfill his desire, because that’s what you’d decided.

You tried, too. You tried hard. Sometimes, you succeeded. Sometimes, you did not. And judging by the barely-there expression of annoyance on Mithrun’s face, you had a feeling that today would be the latter.

“You don’t have to stay,” you said. While the street around you was crowded and bustling, the space between you and Mithrun felt private, quiet. He was lost in that secret space until your words yanked him back to reality.

You watched as his brows furrowed and a little line formed between them. His good eye searched your face as if looking for answers, but he had to know what you meant. If he wanted to go, then he could go.

It seemed to be the kind of day where he didn’t want anything. He was a ghost lingering at your back, pulled through the hours by some invisible string that kept him tied to you. On his worst days, he viewed himself as an anchor dragging behind your ship. Yet, you never cut that line. You wouldn’t dare.

Without an ounce of hesitation, you met his face. The line between his brow had disappeared, but Mithrun’s usual apathy was weaker, softer. Again, you said, “You have a choice, Captain. You don’t have to follow me around if there’s something else you’d rather be doing.”

“There is something else I’d rather be doing,” he admitted with a slow nod.

You perked up. You offered him the choice to leave simply because Mithrun deserved to have choices, though you knew that if he wasn’t following you then he’d most likely end up spending the day staring at the ceiling of his home. It was one of those days. When his brain decided to comply, he would keep himself busy with a hobby, or he’d visit the palace, or search for monsters on the outskirts of the city. He didn’t always need your company to keep himself functioning.

Yet, the fact that there was something he wanted to do was enough to make you smile. “That’s great,” you turned to face him fully. You had a basket of vegetables hanging off your arm as you and Mithrun stood in front of a merchant stall. Another customer approached and you placed a hand on Mithrun’s arm to gently guide your bodies out of the way. The streets of Melini had become crowded as of late, with more tourists coming to see the newly risen country.

“I suppose it is,” he agreed. He glanced down at your hand on his arm, following your fingers as you pulled them away and rested them on the handle of the basket. Then, his good eye flickered back up to your face.

“So,” you rocked back and forth on your heels, “what is it? Anything I can help with?”

The apathy instantly disappeared. Mithrun raised his brows and tilted his head, his good eye widening in thought. “Yes, actually. I want to have sex. With you.”

You froze.

Despite his words, the world still spun and time still flowed. It was offensive how nothing came crashing down for you, how the planet’s rotation didn’t stop to allow you a moment to comprehend Mithrun’s words.

Heat curled in your lower abdomen. Your throat went dry and you let out a soft exhale. All you could manage in response was, “Huh?”

Mithrun gave a quick nod and looked at you as if you were a bit stupid. “Now.”

Now. The hair on the back of your arms stood to attention. “Huh?”

“That’s what I want,” he slowly explained, “pay for the food and let's go.”

You had no choice but to close your eyes and block out the street sounds. “Wait. I thought you were having a bad day.”

“Hmm… No. I think you’re mistaking me being contemplative for me struggling.”

Right. Okay. Contemplative, that was the face he made when he was contemplating something. Something like sex. With you. Now.

Mithrun wrapped his fingers around your wrist. His skin was cold but his touch was like fire. He pulled, urging.

You yanked yourself free, “No.”

And he blinked in surprise, “You don’t want to?”

“No,” you corrected, “I mean, yes.”

“What?”

“I mean–” you groaned and ran your fingers through your hair, “I want to, believe me. I want to. But not like this.”

Mithrun’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly. The apathy returned in full-force. He wasn’t hurt, you knew, but he also wasn’t used to having one of his few desires rejected, especially by you. “Alright, I won’t force you.”

A flicker of panic passed through your chest. You grabbed his arm to stop him from wandering off, “I’m not saying no, Mithrun. I’m saying that— Well, that I have standards.”

He glanced at you, “Standards.”

It wasn’t a question. “Yes. Standards. It’s really not arousing to just be told ‘I want to have sex with you’.”

“Oh,” he nodded, the tiniest amount of realization dawning on his face, “I see. You want to be romanced and seduced.”

Truthfully, you wanted to shrivel and die. You would’ve liked to melt into the cracks on the sidewalk and hide in the darkness forever. Romanced. Seduced. Mithrun wasn’t judging you, but you were certainly judging you.

“Not exactly. I just mean that the time has to be right. We can’t plan these things,” you explained. The heat you had initially felt from his offer was replaced by cold, unpleasant dread. Mithrun was the one who so bluntly brought up the subject of sex, yet you were the one panicking and overthinking things.

“Alright,” again, he brushed it off with the least amount of effort. You wanted to smack him for the cavalier attitude, though you knew he couldn’t help it. Mithrun would most likely spend the rest of the day feeling perfectly calm, without a hint of awkwardness, while you slowly drowned in the flood of your own thoughts.

Except—

Except, as Mithrun turned away to continue the task of vegetable shopping, you saw his right hand flex. He curled his long fingers in, and out, then made a fist before stuffing it into the pocket of his coat.

It didn’t have to mean anything.

You weren’t technically a couple. Despite how emotionally intertwined you were with him, you’d never kissed.

Yet, he wanted you. He specified, Mithrun didn’t want sex with just anyone. He wanted it with you. That was his new desire.

Without a second thought, you let the basket on your arm slide off and hit the ground. Then, you grabbed the sleeve of his coat. He glanced at you, stopping mid-step and allowing you to softly yank him closer.

Mithrun knew. He wasn’t as connected to his emotions as some, but he knew what you were doing. He placed his left hand on your hip, the other still in his pocket. And as he leaned in, meeting you halfway, your panic and anxiety melted like ice beneath the sun. He pressed his lips against yours and you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Whatever your body did from then on was not your decision. Your arms snaked around his neck and you tangled your fingers into the soft hair behind his head.

Both of you knew this moment would come. He was yours, you were his. That had always been the case. Mithrun simply hadn’t had any desire to be physical before. Yet, with the way he pressed against you, now both hands on your hips as he gently walked you backward until your back hit a wall, it was clear. Somehow, in some way, the desire for physical intimacy had returned. Whether you had anything to do with that or not was a mystery, but there was no time to question that. He had needs and wants and there was nothing more important in that moment than fulfilling them.

The rest of the world faded away. Your knees grew weak as you realized that it was finally happening; Mithrun had made such progress. He had a desire, and the fact that the desire concerned you made warmth spread through your body.

Another kiss, then another, while gasps and pants between presses of your lips consumed the space around you. You lowered one hand away from his shoulder and rested it on his chest. Mithrun pushed further until he was the only thing holding you up, keeping you on your feet. His fingers splayed across your back and gripped your clothes. Your chest rose and fell with desperate attempts to get air without breaking contact. If it was possible to melt together, to erase every centimeter of room between your bodies, you and Mithrun would’ve found a way.

His hips brushed against yours. It was barely there, but easily identifiable— a hardness beneath his trousers. Flames within you burst into life and threatened to consume you whole.

“We–” through the fog of sheer want, you managed to grab hold of a sliver of logic, “we can’t do this here.”

Mithrun paused. He still held you, but slowly lifted his face. His lips separated from yours with a soft sound. You already missed the feeling of his mouth. It was cold and empty without him. He glanced out at the street, at the passersby who were pointedly not looking in your general direction.

He shrugged, “I don’t really care,” and returned his attention to you, leaning in again.

You pressed your palm against his face to keep him at bay, “Nope. No way. I care, and we’re not doing this here.”

With an annoyed exhale, he brushed your hand aside, “Fine. Then where?”

The heat in your abdomen was slowly dying down. The realization that most likely a fourth of Melini had seen you and the Captain making out in an alleyway was enough to dampen your fire.

You untangled your arms from his shoulders, trying to pull back. His grip on you resisted until you sent him a half-hearted glare. Only then did he let go and raise his hands to signify that you were free. Yet, as you turned to leave, he instantly grabbed you again.

“Where?” He repeated, his good eye narrowing.

“Nowhere!” You shot back, then paused, “Well, somewhere. But we can’t plan these things, they have to happen naturally, when the time feels correct.”

“Right now certainly feels correct to me.”

“I’ve got things to do,” you complained while you slipped out of his grip once more. You didn’t mean to be so difficult, but the lingering dread of making out in a public alleyway, combined with the fact that your armpits were a bit sweaty, killed every ounce of arousal within. You picked up the basket of veggies and sent Mithrun an apologetic smile, “I promise, we’ll try soon. I want you to be happy and to do these kinds of things, but this is more serious than, like, a food craving or something.”

“Objectively, I’m aware,” he answered, his tone clipped.

“You’re just horny,” you finished for him.

“Unbearably horny.”

What progress! “Good for you,” you patted his arm and smiled, “I’m proud!”

He made a face. You hoped that your imitation of a mother praising her child for a good grade would ease his newfound lust for at least a bit, at least until you could match his energy.

However, Mithrun still clung to you for the next hour. When you stopped to discuss a price with a merchant, Mithrun wrapped his arms around you from behind and nuzzled his face into your neck.

“Is now the right time?” He murmured.

And you brushed him off, because you had no desire to make everybody around you uncomfortable. (Mithrun did not care.)

“No,” was all you said.

He made a small, flat noise of disapproval. Despite your nature, you couldn’t help but smile. Torturing Mithrun made your heart skip a beat, it put you in a good mood.

You separated for the evening. Mithrun had resorted to giving you the silent treatment, which only raised your amusement to new heights. As you watched him turn to walk home without so much as a goodbye, with his barely disguised brooding and glare, a flicker of power passed through you. Admittedly, you were tempted to spend the night in his bed. But you were more tempted by the possibility of teasing him to the brink of his control, of seeing him overcome and ruffled and desperate.

Another curl of heat in your abdomen took your breath away. You forced yourself to turn, to retreat. Good things come to those who wait.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

But it was midnight and waiting was no longer an option. Only several hours had passed since you’d last seen Mithrun, but his words refused to leave your mind.

‘I want to have sex. With you.’

There was absolutely nothing romantic about them. He didn’t use a sultry voice. He spoke those two sentences as if he was reading items off a grocery list. And it was so out of the blue.

Yet, the fact that they were from him, from someone who so rarely felt desire, was special. Without trying, Mithrun had branded the words onto your brain with a hot iron. And that heat traveled down your body like a spreading fire until it burned and pulsed between your legs, growing more urgent with every passing contemplation.

You needed to know: how did he come to realize that desire? What changed? Did he simply wake up that morning in the mood for sex? Had he been trying to cultivate that desire?

You laid in bed, your hands spread out over your chest, your eyes on the ceiling. Another throb of pleasant warmth between your legs made your lips part. Mithrun wanted you. Why didn’t you just give him what he wanted earlier?

Something began to build up inside of you. If you just had a little friction, a touch, it could burst forth and envelop you in warmth.

Your hand trailed down your stomach and—

And a loud clang from outside your bedroom window stopped you. You turned your head to look, hand halted mid-air as your flames began to dim.

In the darkness of the night, a shadow passed by the glass. Their features were blurred by the darkness, but they were tall, wide, and slowly stepping past your window. Your little cabin was on the outskirts of the town, and all of your neighbors were a half mile away. Your friends had always told you that it wasn’t safe for a single woman to live alone in such a vacant area.

Your blood ran cold as the shadow moved on towards your backyard. Instantly, you scrambled out of bed and through the house to make sure all your doors were locked. Another peek outside the window in the kitchen revealed that the figure had crossed the yard and was rifling through your garbage. At least they weren’t trying to get inside. Yet.

Breathless, with a racing heart and tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, you hurried back to the bedroom. You flicked a hand and your communication pixie twirled into existence. You didn’t give it any time to stretch and yawn from its slumber, grabbing it from mid-air and squeezing its little body.

Mana channeled through your veins. You attempted to shove aside the fear and imagine Mithrun, then frantically tapped the pixie’s head, “Mithrun!” You hissed.

A moment passed. No answer.

“Mithrun,” you insisted, your voice choking up. Air refused to travel through your lungs, and you started hyperventilating into your free hand.

Four seconds passed before you heard a soft sigh through the pixie’s mouth, “What is it?”

He sounded tired, groggy, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about waking him up. “I-I think someone’s stalking around my house. They haven’t tried to break in yet but I’m really freaked out—“

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he instantly said, sounding more awake.

And with Mithrun, he meant it. Walking regularly would take around fifteen minutes, since you lived several miles apart. Yet, when he was determined, he could teleport quickly enough to cross those miles within five minutes.

You quietly groaned and collapsed onto the edge of the bed, releasing your fairy— who sent you a worried look before twirling and disappearing into thin air.

There was nothing wrong with calling Mithrun for help, but embarrassment and dread settled into your stomach nonetheless. He’d prefer you call him with these types of situations, you knew. But you were capable too. You had helped save the world from the demon, yet some random shadowy figure in your backyard reduces you to tears? Pathetic.

It was simply an invasion, and you were in your night clothes and your weapon was thrown into the back of your closet somewhere. That was all. And the fact that the figure passed by your window when you were seconds away from pleasuring yourself made you want to throw up.

Another set of footsteps crunching down on the grass tore you from your thoughts. They were accompanied by a light spell which illuminated silver waves of hair and a dark cloak.

Relief flooded your chest, though you hesitated to let your guard drop entirely. You scrambled through the cabin and toward your kitchen window where you saw Mithrun silently crossing your yard towards the shadowy figure.

He paused mid-step. Then, he rested his hands on his hips. As his light spell floated over him, you caught a glimpse of what he looked at; brown feathers and a yellow beak, accompanied by the slithering of a snake.

A basilisk. It was just a basilisk digging through your garbage.

You couldn’t decide whether you wanted to collapse from relief, or scream from frustration.

Nonchalantly, Mithrun reached out a hand and tapped the chicken part on the back. It disappeared, and he wasted no time in turning around and heading for your back door. Despite your shaking hand and sick stomach, you unlocked the door and opened it to let him inside without a word. He dispelled the light spell and pulled off his cloak with a sigh.

“I’m so sorry,” you exhaled heavily, locking the door, “I should’ve just gone to check on my own.”

Mithrun sent you a blank glance, but as if he’d been caught by a hook, he did a subtle double take. His good eye flickered over your body, across your shoulders, down your thighs.. It took several seconds for his brain to catch up, “No… If that happens again, don’t go outside. I know you can take care of yourself, but I’d rather not risk it.”

He didn’t stop staring. The shamelessness of his gaze on your diaphanous nightdress made you heat up. The intruder was just a scavenging basilisk, you weren’t in any real danger, yet Mithrun had been so determined to help you.

As offensive as the whole situation was to your personal sense of feminism, it made your knees weak.

Mithrun finally looked away. He took a breath that made his chest rise and fall, his hands buried in the folds of his cloak. “I’ll go now, then.”

“No,” you argued before you could even think twice. You grabbed his arm to stop him. He was wearing a loose night tunic so different from the long sleeved, high necked outfits he usually chose. You’d seen his scars before, but it was so rare to touch his bare skin like that, to feel the soft texture beneath your fingers.

Mithrun raised a slight brow, “No?”

He wanted you.

You wanted him.

“Could you stay the night?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady, “I’d feel better with you near.”

Calling Mithrun to investigate potential attackers was one thing, but requiring his presence to help you sleep was beyond uncharacteristic. He knew exactly what you were doing, and he sent you a look that revealed precisely that.

But he also wasn’t one for complaining. He simply nodded and draped his cloak across the back of a chair, then pulled off his boots. With weak knees, you turned around to return to your bedroom. You wanted to be casual, to not be too hyper-aware of his presence following you down the hall.

Any other decent man would’ve politely asked if you’d rather he sleep on the couch. Mithrun was not other men, and he was only decent around 42% of the time.

You pulled back the sheets. The silence was consuming, but only to you, apparently. Mithrun remained cavalier as he slid onto the left side of the bed and pulled the sheets up around him. He sent you a blank look as if to ask why you were hesitating, why this moment was so monumental for you.

He knew exactly why, he was just being a jackass.

You crawled in. Before you could get comfortable, Mithrun snaked an arm around your waist and pulled your back against his chest. Your bodies molded together as he buried his nose in your hair.

Right down to business. He knew precisely what you wanted.

Your heart started to pound and heat flooded the space between your legs. Mithrun hadn’t wanted anything intimate in forty years. It was the least you could do to let him be a little greedy.

His hand slowly ran down the curve of your waist, brushing over the fabric of your night dress. Once he reached the hem, his fingers danced across your bare skin. He had rough callouses, and as he stroked your outer thigh, the scratch created from years of fighting sent tingles through your veins. The room was quiet save for your exhales, your attempts to control your breathing.

“I wonder,” Mithrun murmured, “did you know it was just a basilisk in your yard, and you used it as an excuse to get me to come over?”

You scoffed, “No. I was fully planning on drawing this whole thing out for longer, actually.”

He exhaled in annoyance, but despite the sharp sound, his hand rounded the curve of your thigh and brushed closer to the sensitive inner part. That warm pulsing between your legs returned. The slight twitch of his growing hardness against your ass was enough to send a wave of arousal through you.

His hand drew up, over your underwear, to your stomach. And while he did that, he pressed his lips against your neck.

“You’re-“ you tried to gather the scrambled pieces of your brain, “you’re surprisingly eager for someone who hasn’t wanted this in so long.”

Mithrun ran his lips down your neck, “I’ve been working on it.”

Spectacular. That answered your burning question. You tilted your head to give him more access as you spoke, “So you’ve been trying to regain the desire for intimacy?”

He nodded, “I have.”

“How so?”

“Just putting some thought into the matter,” Mithrun lightly dug his teeth into the crook of your neck, earning a soft gasp. Then, he continued, “Contemplating what it would be like. Focusing on you, looking at you. Physical stimulation.”

He spoke so clinically, yet the implications behind his answer sent a shiver trailing down your spine. “Physical stimulation?”

“It was hard, at first. Nothing much happened.”

“So… It wasn’t actually hard at first?”

Mithrun promptly pinched your side, but that only made you laugh more. When you didn’t stop giggling quickly enough for him, he dug his teeth into your shoulder and hooked a finger into the line of your underwear. That dimmed the amusement. Despite the interruption, you could feel him growing harder against your ass.

“Anyway,” he grumbled, kissing the spot he’d just bit, “it took some determination and focus.”

“Focus on what?”

You knew. You just wanted to hear him say it again.

“On you,” he pressed himself against you. His hand rose to cup your breast, and his thumb brushed over the hardened nipple.

The image of Mithrun trying to revive his sexual desire by thinking of you, by stroking himself as he focused on you, flickered through your mind. You couldn’t help but arch into his hand.

“How long have you been waiting to try it out?” You asked, breathless.

Mithrun’s hand left your chest. He sat up, and you rolled onto your back to look up at him as he pressed his palms into the mattress.

“A bit too long for my taste,” he said. The gravel in his voice was evident despite how calm he looked. Silver curls fell, framing his face.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away, not even for a second, “What do you want me to do?”

Mithrun tilted his head and raised his brows, looking a little thoughtful, “What do you mean?”

“Do you…” you paused and raised a hand to brush a lock of hair away. Then, you trailed your fingers down the jagged edges of his ear, and he closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. “Do you want me to take the lead? Just to ease us into it?”

His good eye flickered open, “Another time. I’ve given this enough thought to understand exactly what I have to do.” He sat up and gripped the outer flesh of both your thighs. His fingers dug into your skin. You wanted more, you wanted him to hold you so tightly he left bruises, evidence.

“And?” You urged.

“I know that with the few things I want…” Mithrun’s hands slid over the tops of your thighs and to the inner curves, then he slowly spread you apart, just for him. “I have to put in the effort and work to get it.”

There was something so beautifully sinful about his hands on your inner thighs. He opened you up, laid you bare, invited himself in with full confidence that you wanted him there. Your core pulsed, aching to be filled. All you knew in that moment was Mithrun as he sat between your legs. His good eye flickered over your body. If he cared about any imperfections you had, he showed no indication. Rather, he looked slightly thoughtful, as if he were mapping out a battle strategy atop the landscape of your hips.

You couldn’t help but shiver beneath his stare. He glanced up at you, then back down, and hooked his fingers in the band of your underwear. His shoulders rose as he slid them down your thighs, the fabric a caress. You moved your legs to help shimmy them off before he tossed them aside and picked up your right thigh. Leaning down, Mithrun positioned your leg over his shoulder.

As realization burst through your warm haze, you sat up, “You don’t have to do that. I should be focusing on you—”

“Quiet,” Mithrun commanded. He dipped down, but paused, and his gaze flickered up to meet yours, “You’re already wet.”

Wonderful. He said it so casually, too, as if he was pointing out the weather.

You scowled despite the incessant pulsing in your core, “Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing,” he commented.

Usually, you could read Mithrun well. You knew his subtle indicators of emotion— the furrow of his brow, the slight widening or narrowing of his good eye, the twitch of his lips. However, whether he meant to or not, Mithrun’s book was shut for the moment. The closest emotion you could attach to him was analytical. Or rather, curious.

Still, you fought. The heat on your cheeks demanded that you go to war. “We don’t need to bother with me. I think that right now we should—”

Mithrun dipped down and flicked his tongue against your clit. Pleasure rippled up from your core and to your throat. You gasped, but he gave you no time, no mercy. He sucked at your clit, pushing and pulling and enveloping and stroking. Mithrun carried out intimacy much in the same way he fought: ruthless, relentless, disregarding what was right or wrong and focused solely on his goal.

It had been a while for you. You’d given yourself to Mithrun for so long that you never glanced at anybody else. You’d resigned yourself to a relationship with a lack of anything physical. You were okay with that. Mithrun wouldn’t care if you used your fingers, and you’d never ask him to do anything for you without his desire present.

Yet, he’d been trying. And he’d given it so much thought. And he increased in intensity as he stroked your clitoris with his tongue. You’d been writhing and gasping without realizing it, bucking your hips up in a desperate attempt to get even closer.

He let go of your thigh and pressed your hips deeper into the mattress. As his fingers dug into your skin, holding you down like leather straps, the pressure and pulsing and throbbing grew stronger. You ached to be filled. It was all you could do to grip the sheets and gasp for air.

“Mithrun,” you said, breathless. It felt right to say his name, as if that might make the moment feel any more real.

His good eye flickered up to you, but he instantly returned to his merciless attack. You watched as his shoulders tensed in his attempt to keep your hips down. He pulled back for half of a second to catch his breath before diving in with far more enthusiasm than you were used to from him.

The very fact that he wanted to pleasure you, that he was putting in the effort, that you could see the outline of his cock growing hard beneath his pants— it all built up like water filling a balloon. If he continued, the walls would burst and you’d be in ruins beneath his fingers and mouth.

Heat rose. Your muscles tensed and you planted your feet into the sheets, hoping to ground yourself before you floated away. Another intense caress of his tongue threatened to push you over the edge. You wanted it so badly. You wanted to fall, to be ruined by him. The fire within your abdomen started crawling through every inch of your body as you desperately tried to catch your breath.

“Mithrun,” you murmured again. It was louder, then. And, again. Again. His fingers dug further into your skin and you writhed helplessly. You were saying something, though you weren’t aware what it was. Another gasp, another flick of his tongue, and you were broken.

Mithrun rode out your orgasm with a surprising amount of patience. He opened his eye and watched from the spot between your legs as you threw your head back. While he had enough mercy to slow down in his ministrations, he licked up every bit of you that you had to offer. Your chest rose and fell. Your nipples were hard and poked through the thin fabric of your nightdress. Once you started to catch your breath, he pushed himself up, but that was where his mercy ended.

Mithrun gripped your arms and pulled you into a sitting position. He had to hold you to keep you from falling backwards onto the pillows. With one hand, he pulled the end of your nightdress up. “Off,” was all he said.

The command barely reached your ears, but you wanted to take it off anyway. You raised your arms and let him pull it over your head to toss it aside. Then, he yanked off his loose shirt. As you floated back down to reality, you took a deep breath— returning to the land of the sober just in time to catch Mithrun picking up the edges of the bed sheets and using them to wipe your slick off his mouth and chin.

You gasped, “Not the sheets!”

He pointedly ignored you as he lifted his hips and pulled down his trousers, though an ink-black eye lingered on your face, refusing to look anyway. His earlier curiosity was gone, replaced with determination you’d only rarely seen— once, when he encountered the demon. Another time when he couldn’t get a noodle recipe right.

Once his trousers were off, he shifted closer, between your legs. Hesitantly, you leaned back and rested your weight on your elbows. It felt wrong to blatantly ogle him, but the slopes of his arms and shoulders and the angle of his torso would surely haunt you all your days. He didn’t seem to mind, focused on his own endeavors. It was only when he held his dick and brushed it against your wet folds that you finally paid attention.

He rubbed the tip on your clitoris. You tensed, still sensitive, and raised a hand to cover your mouth as if that would be enough to stop the desperate sounds. Mithrun was experimenting, then. He was rarely careful, but he was analytical, smart enough to figure out what you liked. Again, he pressed his length against you and you couldn’t help but shudder.

“You’re very sensitive,” he observed.

Again, the asshole sounded like he was simply discussing the weather. You were crumbling and his demeanor sustained not even one crack.

You managed a glare, “I thought I told you not to tease me.” As if Mithrun ever teased anyone.

“Stop complaining,” he murmured as he snaked his hands beneath you and lifted your hips. Your insides throbbed for him, desperate, begging for him to fill you.

First, the tip. It sunk in like a massage on a sore muscle. Mithrun’s gaze dropped and he watched himself go further. You enveloped him. All he knew was you, your warmth, your wetness, clinging to him. He let out a shuddery exhale as he finally pressed himself inside entirely. His lips parted and he lifted your hips to pull you closer, though there was no more room left between your bodies to close.

His cock inside of you was like honey dripping onto your tongue. It was like silk. It was a several years long hunger finally being satiated. Mithrun thrusted experimentally and you couldn’t help but gasp from the sudden pulsing reverberating up your body.

“Move,” you begged, breathless.

“I—” Mithrun took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He still held your hips, but his hands quivered, “I can’t yet. Just give me a minute.”

His answer managed to pull you from the haze. He hadn’t had sex in forty years, of course he was sensitive. It was his first time feeling the warmth and wetness of a pussy in so long.

But, simply because you had a sadistic streak, you tightened your muscles to clench around him.

Mithrun’s head dropped. He tensed. His exhale was a shudder that racked his body, and he couldn’t help but grind against your hips in response. Finally, he was showing some response, some weakness. You bathed in the sight and feeling of pride. It was you who cracked him. It was your tightness that made him gasp and lose his mind.

He didn’t even need to move, and you were already addicted to having him inside of you. The look on his face, the flutter of his eye, the harsh press of his fingers; how could you ever stop?

But he took a deep breath and straightened himself out. Then, holding your hips, he slipped away, leaving you cold and empty. You sat up with the intent to complain, but he slammed back into you. Any words you had were instantly strangled into silence. His tip hit a sensitive spot, sparks ran up your body. With no warning, Mithrun began to relentlessly drive into you. Skin slapped against skin. Every thrust was yet another breath stolen from your lungs. And somehow, he hit the perfect spot each and every time.

You gasped his name. Mithrun’s lips were parted and his cheeks were flushed, but he looked up to meet your face. Without another word, he lifted his right hand and slid it between his hip and your thigh, then pressed two fingers against your clitoris and began to rub.

With just the simplest touch, he had you falling apart once more. You held desperate eye contact for a moment until you could no longer take it, until you had no choice but to shut your eyes. His name was a prayer on your lips. You praised him, reverential, letting him take you, own you, claim you. His touch was religion. Every time he filled you, you sunk deeper, indoctrinated. Mithrun pressed his fingers down harder and faster as you began to writhe once more. Another moan of his name was followed by a string of curses as the thrum within your core rose to unbearable levels.

“There,” Mithrun breathed out, “There you go. That’s my girl.”

You broke. He shattered you. You had no clue how loud you were, what you said. There was a few ‘fucks’ thrown in there, a few words of blasphemy and sin and pleading. The only sound that cut through your fog of pleasure was Mithrun’s hips snapping against yours even harder. He might leave bruises. He might leave you sore. You certainly hoped so.

Mithrun groaned your name. His hair fell into his face as he pressed both arms into the sheets. His right hand, still slick with evidence of your arousal, went to your face and lifted you into a hard kiss. His teeth knocked against yours but you were too lost to care. Another screw, another thrust, another slam against the most sensitive spot in the back of your body. You’d never come from just dick. You’d never orgasmed with so few rubs.

Mithrun repeated your name and his hips stuttered and—

Then, he buried his face against your neck and dug his teeth into your skin. You wrapped your arms around him to hold him close while he spilled inside of you. All you could think about was his seed coating your vagina, covering every inch while your walls milked him dry. He was yours. You wanted every ounce.

His thrusts slowed down and he caught his breath. You’d told yourself for years that it was okay to forego this kind of physical intimacy with him. You could handle that for the sake of being with Mithrun. Yet, now that you’d felt it, you couldn’t imagine ever parting with it. He was inside of you. He was holding you. He was bruising and marking and claiming you.

And he collapsed on top of you like a limp rag doll.

You let out an oof, “Get off. You’re too heavy.”

He only groaned into your shoulder, the sound muffled. Mithrun was absolutely boneless.

His dick slowly softened and slipped out of you naturally, though you already missed it. You would’ve gladly been his cock-warmer if he asked. You would’ve gladly allowed him to use your body beyond what was proper.

Holding him tightly, you buried your face into his hair. “I’ve got to go pee or else I’ll get a UTI,” you grumbled.

“Just… One more minute.”

One more minute. You wanted more than one, but you were also far too pragmatic to let yourself fall asleep with the threat of unbearable bladder pain on the horizon.

He was dead weight on your body, but it was grounding. If Mithrun ever thought of himself as an anchor, he might be right, though he greatly misunderstood the purpose of the role. Without an anchor, you’d drift endlessly. Without him, you’d lose a part of yourself.

Your soul slowly returned to your body as you patted his shoulder, “Come on, we’ve got to change the sheets too.”

“They’re fine,” he grumbled, another muffled sound.

“They’re gross.”

“It’s natural.”

“It smells.”

Mithrun lifted his head to shoot you an unamused stare, “Get used to it.”

You refused. For the moment, though, you would humor him. It was his first time fulfilling a new desire, a lack of complaints might be in order.

Mithrun rolled off your body and collapsed onto the spot next to you. With a contented sigh, you got out of bed and made toward the bathroom with him dripping down your thighs. The very thought made your knees weak.

After peeing and cleaning up— a shame, despite your concern for cleanliness— you returned to the bedroom to find Mithrun lying on his back in the bed. He had one hand on his forehead, his hair pushed away from his face and his good eye wide as it stared at the ceiling.

You tensed, “What’s wrong?”

“Please tell me you–” he sat up to pin you in place with an intense look, “tell me you’re taking some sort of birth control.”

You were. But all you could do was raise a brow, “You’re just now thinking about that?”

Mithrun looked a bit dead inside, more so than usual. “I was caught up in the moment.”

You decided to cut him some slack, “Yes, I’m on birth control herbs. Really, they’re just to control other things, since I haven’t had sex in years. But still.”

Slowly, his eyes closed. He nodded and lowered back to the pillows.

“Water?”

Another nod.

He lasted longer than you thought he would. He didn’t seem exhausted, though the adrenaline from his orgasm would most likely help him sleep. You brought water and he gratefully drank as you pulled the covers up over your body.

Mithrun set the glass down on the nightstand and sent you a glance. No words needed to be said. No grand gestures were required. He caught your cheek with his calloused hand and nudged you closer until your lips met. You tangled your fingers in his hair. Despite the monumental moment in your relationship, the air remained clear. Your comfort, the naturalness of it all, felt as if you’d been intimate for years, as if you were made for touching each other, as if your bodies were molds created specifically to fit together.

Still.

“Get up,” you demanded between kisses, “I’m changing the sheets.”

[loveriotss]

part three for kei plsplspls 🤲

10 SECONDS ⸻ kei tsukishima

INCLUDES — gn! reader, fluff, crack, smau TAG — @jellysupremacy

PART 01 — PART 02

main masterlist ༊*·˚ — haikyuu masterlist ༊*·˚

𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐄𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒.

this wasn’t something he would admit to anyone, but the feeling always lingered inside him before any match. he sat quietly in his chair, tying and untying his laces for the nth time, assuring himself that they wouldn’t come undone in the middle of the match. after finally being satisfied, he proceeded to grab a tape roll out of his bag and began wrapping his fingers, his hands working in muscle memory as he let his eyes drift towards the karasuno managers, specifically you.

you had your sleeves pushed up to your elbows, your eyebrows furrowed softly as you checked and rechecked everything for the team. you were always diligent in your work, and tsukishima admired and appreciated that.

the blonde continued to stare at you, studying your appearance while the corners of his lips quirked up ever so slightly. it was not until yamaguchi nudged him gently that he snapped out of his trance. “they’re not going anywhere, you know? might as well take a picture.. it’ll last longer.” the freckled boy spoke in a teasing tone as tsukishima scoffed, shoving him away. 

“shut up. i wasn’t staring.” he snapped back, stuffing the rest of his tape back into his bag. “you’re not fooling anyone tsuki, everyone knows how you feel about our dear manager,” yamaguchi said, lowering his voice before continuing, “maybe even the dear manager themself.”

but tsukishima paid him no mind as he sensed you approaching him, his mind scrambling to find something to do so it wouldn’t look like he was waiting for you to come his way. the green-haired boy took this as his cue to leave and with a reassuring pat to the blonde’s shoulder, he walked away. 

you sat down on the empty space near tsukishima, who was now inspecting his water bottle as if it were something of utmost importance. “gosh.. pre-matches are always so stressful!” you exclaimed, letting out a tired sigh. “how are you holding up, kei?” you asked, turning to stare at his bottle too. “peachy.” he replied, ignoring the way his heart fluttered with the way you said his name. “you don’t seem peachy,” you said, tilting your head down to look at his face, “i would say that i notice a little bit of nervousness in you.” 

tsukishima’s eyes finally peeled away from his bottle, staring into yours as he constructed a reply. he scoffed before speaking, “nervous? me? don’t make me laugh, y/n. i’m confident in my abilities as a volleyball player.” 

“oh, of course, of course. kei tsukishima is an exceptional volleyball player, no doubt. but even the best players get sweaty hands before a match, don’t they?” you said, grabbing his hand in yours and tucking away a bit of the loose tape on his fingers. “you’re gonna do great, kei.. i believe in you.” you spoke, staring into his eyes.

tsukishima kei felt like everything around him was way too hot, especially his hand that was clasped by yours.

he pulled his hand away from yours gently, examining the bindings before speaking. “thanks y/n.” you smiled, getting up from your seat as you noticed coach ukai calling over the players. “good luck!” you said before walking back to the managers.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊.

you crossed your arms tightly, trying to keep the frigid air out as you neared your destination. you scanned your surroundings before finally spotting the blonde, who was seated on a swing. you walked over and sat on the swing beside him, making your presence known.

“sooo, what did you need to talk about?” you inquired, swinging yourself gently. “i think you need to tell me something.” kei replied, his eyes staring at the side of your head. you froze for a second, a million possibilities swarming in your head. did yachi blabber to him about your feelings? did he somehow see the groupchat messages? did he — 

“you kept staring at me during dinner, like you had something to say.” kei pointed out, interrupting your train of thought. you snapped your head to look at him, tilting your head. “i was not staring.” you stated, furrowing your eyebrows at the smirk playing on his lips. 

“sure, y/n. just tell me what’s up and i’ll be on my way. you don’t have to deny this. i’ll admit i have a face worth staring at.” he retorted, clearly amused by your reactions. “you have a face worth punching actually.” you snapped back, only earning a raised eyebrow from the blonde. he chuckled before speaking,

“you have 10 seconds to tell me what you have to say.”  “what? i have nothing to say!” “10.. 9..” “stop counting kei, i’m being serious.” “8.. 7..” “now you’re just doing this to mess with me! i can see you grinning!” “6.. 5..” “this is stressing me out actually.” “4 3 2 —” “i like you!”

everything fell into silence. you froze, hoping that you had just shouted that out in your mind, but judging by kei’s silence, you could tell that it had been said out loud. you turnt your head away from him, your mouth growing dry with his growing silence.

did you mess up? maybe it wasn’t the right time? or did you just overthink everything and he really didn’t see you as more than a manager.. or a friend.

you spiralled in your thoughts, your heart hammering in your chest as you rose up, the swing rattling with the sudden release of weight as you spoke in a shaky and hurried voice.

“i.. i need to go now. goodnight kei.” you said, turning to leave when a hand enveloped yours, stopping you in your tracks. you didn’t look behind, clearing your throat before speaking.

“listen.. what i said.. it was a mistake, alright? just forget it.” you lied, pulling your hand away from his grip only for it to be latched onto again.

“oh? well that’s a shame, because i like you too, y/n.” came his voice from behind you, causing you to turn to him. kei had his head turnt to the side, bringing his scarf further up his face to hide the red tint on his face. was it from the cold or was it from his heart which was beating uncontrollably in his chest?

“what? do you really?” you started, walking closer to him as he stumbled back, his eyes darting everywhere but yours. “yeah.. so stop trying to walk away and stop trying to get closer —” he spoke, now getting backed up by a more amused you.

now that his feelings towards you were confirmed, you felt more confident, more bold. a smile made its way onto your lips as you walked closer to the flustered blonde, clearly enjoying his reaction to your advances. “really kei? what do you like about me?” you asked in a teasing tone, moving your head to make eye contact with him.

“i don’t actually!” he spat out, turning his head away from yours, “you.. you’re annoying! your annoying hair, annoying face, annoying voice, annoying personality, annoying antics! are all managers like this?” he retorted, scoffing as he tried to regain his composure. “are you really going back on your words? that’s mean you know..” you said, looking down in fake despair. kei eyed you, tilting his head to try and get a look at your face, trying to see if the tone of your voice matched the expression on your face.

“and here i thought.. that we both like each other.. that our friendship could bloom into something more. but alas! it was just i who thought this way!” you said dramatically, sighing loudly as you turnt to trudge towards nowhere in particular. 

kei snorted, realizing your act as he jogged slightly to catch up to you. “you’re dramatic, you know that?” he asked, nudging your side. “and you’re mean!” you replied, continuing your act as you sped up. the blonde caught up easily, amused with the whole situation, “i’m not mean at all, you’re the mean one. confessing and then trying to run away like that.” he pointed.

“you’re the meaner one! saying you like me back and then denying it!” you said, pouting at him. “you know i didn’t mean that!” he barked back, a confused look washing over his face as he saw your widening smile. “really? then prove it.” you said, leaning close to him. “what? prove what?” he asked, still unsure of what you were scheming. 

“prove that you like me back. you have 10 seconds.” “hey that’s my thing you know.” “10.. 9…” “haha very funny y/n, cut it out.” “7.. 8..” “you’re being dumb, how am i supposed to prove something like that?” “6.. 5..” “that’s enough.” “4 3 2 —”

you were cut off by a pair of lips on yours, shyly pecking it before kissing you again, the kiss deeper this time. your eyes widened for a moment, caught off guard but you quickly matched his pace, tangling your fingers in his hair as he held the back of your head, tilting it for better access. 

the cold air didn’t feel so cold anymore as you and kei kissed, fingers travelling through hair and clothes, pulling closer to one another as if you both weren’t pressed up against each other already. 

after a few minutes, you both pulled back to catch your breaths, hair disheveled, clothes rumpled and huffing together before you burst out into giggles while kei stared at you with a small smile on his lips. “was that enough proof?” he asked, his hands not letting go of your waist as you threw your arms over his shoulders. “hmm.. maybe i need more proof..” you teased, the blonde raising his eyebrows.

“you want more? in this playground? really?” he asked, scanning his surroundings as if he wasn’t the one who kissed you in said playground first. “well damn.. forgive me for wanting more kisses from my boyfriend.” you said with a pout. “so i’m your boyfriend, hm?” kei replied with a grin, tilting his head.

“are you telling me that we just confessed and kissed here all for you to not be my boyfriend? wowww.” you said in a monotone voice, shaking your head in disappointment. “no no, that’s not what i’m saying. i am truly honored to be your boyfriend.” kei replied with a laugh before continuing, “but for now let’s get back indoors. wouldn’t want karasuno’s star player and manager freezing to death.”

NOTE — i start a new grade tomorrow bye will i survive yes or no

©loveriotss — all rights reserved to me. don’t try to copy/steal my work. do not use any of my ideas/translate my work without my permission.

[painted-flag]

SUNSETS - emperor commodus

₊˚⊹♡ tensions rise within your marriage and boil over. ₊˚⊹ emperor commodus x fem!reader ₊˚⊹ masterlist. ₊˚⊹ 4.2k words.

The day was uniquely hot in comparison to the last few weeks. A dome of heat had settled over Rome and refused to leave. The sweltering day was nearly killer and many of the common people had flocked to bodies of water in an attempt to cool down. Heat has often been an enemy when it came to breaking the physical body down, but scarce was it ever talked about how heat can break a person down mentally. 

You were not blind to the strain that had come between you and your husband Commodus. Your courtship had been a fantasy, like a tale your mother would tell you when you went to bed as a child. He showered you with attention and gifts. Yet, only shortly after you married had come the death of his father. After his ascension, his time was filled with duties and obligations. 

It was not as though you were asking for his constant attention; only a conversation that did not involve proceedings in the Senate or trade relations. 

The day had been spent planning. An upcoming month-long gladiatorial celebration was only two weeks away. The start would be a grand celebration at the palace with all the top generals and their families, along with those of wealthy and prominent families. As Empress, it was your duty to organize the event. You had been working on it for a while, but as it loomed closer, you began to question your choices. 

There was no childhood preparation to become Empress. It never even crossed your mind growing up. You felt inadequate in the position. 

As your doubts grew, the desire for your husband's company increased. You craved his reassurance. In those days before he became emperor, Commodus would listen to your worries as you would to his. The both of you had learned to lean on one another.

That was what led you to his office on that hot day where the air smothered everything. You had already reached your limits at that point and wanted nothing more than the Commodus’ comforting presence. 

Walking into his workroom, you saw the expanding space full of shelves containing various records and high-valued items. In the centre of the room was his grand desk, carved from the same marble that made up a large portion of the palace. Commodus was pouring over work. One hand gripped a stylus to scratch more words into a wax tablet, but his face was scrunched with frustration. The heat had been affecting the wax tablets you had been using all day and you knew they were faulty with him as well. 

You stepped up to the desk and stood in front of it, but he did not raise his head. He continued to work diligently. You coughed lightly to try and get his attention, but Commodus made no move of acknowledgment. You could see the tension in his shoulders and the way he moved. 

“Darling?” You spoke. Commodus looked up briefly to spot you but quickly went back to his work. The lack of acknowledgement was something you were encountering increasingly more as of late and it would always send a jolt of pain to your heart. 

“What is it?” He questioned while he shuffled some items on his desk. 

“There are some decisions about the upcoming festivities that I was hoping you would approve of.” You answered. He glanced up briefly, eyes flickering over your face, before going back to staring at the tablet in front of him. The heat had left you uncomfortable the whole day, but something about this interaction disturbed you more. 

Left with no response, you continued, “The guest list has been finalized, but there are certain families that may need an exception to attend and–”

“I trust you can make the sound decision,” Commodus’ tone was almost dismissive. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from saying anything brash. 

“Yes, well, there is the matter of decor–”

“As I said, the decisions are up to you.” He glanced over a report from a senator, cursing under his breath at whatever was written before proceeding to use the stylus to erase what was written while muttering lowly, “Have to do everything myself.”

You glanced around the room, wondering why you had even tried to speak to him. Your husband was not your husband and had not been since his ascension. If you blinked, you could envision for a brief moment the way his warmth used to envelop you or the feeling of his delicate touch. You two had not even kissed one another in what felt like a lifetime. 

Commodus was still here, but it felt like he had died with his father, leaving behind a husk of a person you do not recognize. 

“I hoped for your opinion on this,” You then lowered your voice, “If you could even bother to look at me.” He made no hint of having heard your words but resumed his work. You stood there as he continued his duties, waiting for a sign, for anything that showed that your husband was still in that body sitting in front of you. 

Another few minutes passed of him muttering frustratingly under his breath before you spoke again, “Commodus?” 

“Enough!” He yelled while he threw down his stylus, “Can you not see that I am busy? Can you possibly not see I have more important work to do than frivolous womanly things?”

You sucked in a breath as the two of you stared at one another. It was only then that you realized that this was the longest he had held eye contact with you in many weeks, and it was only to yell. Tears pooled in your eyes but you refused to let them fall. You would not grace him with your sadness. Your face became neutral and your shoulders became stiff as your body went rigid. If he shows you indifference, you will as well. 

“Apologies, Caesar, I shall not bother you with frivolous womanly things anymore.” It was the first time you had addressed him with the title other than on some occasions inside the bedroom – of which it was not used appropriately. Commodus sensed your shift and for a brief moment, you could see his real self flash across his eyes. 

You bowed respectfully before calmly leaving the room. Your head was held high, but as soon as you knew you were out of sight, the tears escaped your eyes. Your legs carried you onwards as you silently cried. 

This whole palace was suffocating, your marriage even more so. What hurt the most was that you still loved him, you would always love him, but you could not help but wonder if he still loved you. 

As you made your way to your room, an idea formed in your head. You could see the vision of the beach in your mind. The villa with which you went on your honeymoon had laid dormant, only ever used for leisure – which you had not had since becoming Empress. For once, maybe you could simply get away from this damned city.

Commodus stalked through the halls later that night. His mind had been reeling the rest of the day. He could barely continue with his work without thinking of you, without the image of your broken face flashing through his mind. 

He ran his hands over his face and sighed loudly as he entered your shared chambers to go to sleep. The routine was carefully practiced and his muscles worked through the movements of getting ready for bed and changing his clothes. It was when he walked up the steps to the raised bed that he felt why the air was so odd. 

You were not in bed sleeping. 

Normally, he left his duties so late in the day that by the time he got to the room you were long asleep. However, your side remained untouched. He stood there for a moment, staring down and wondering where you were. Commodus shifted the covers and got in, adjusting himself until he was comfortable and closed his eyes. 

You were likely busy with all the planning coming to head as the festival neared, he reasoned. Before long, due to the constant exhaustion, Commodus fell asleep quickly. 

The next morning, as the rising sun peeked through the silk curtains and a warm breeze stifled the room, Commodus woke up and stretched. Instinctively, his arm reached out to feel your body, but only hit the cold sheets. His eyes opened and saw that you were not in bed. The coolness indicated you had been gone for long. 

In the early mornings, he relished the silence. You would still be asleep and it was the only opportunity when he could hold you before leaving to attend his duties before you woke. Mornings were the only time he had a brief moment of respite, where he could bask in your presence before he had to work. There was a pit in his stomach, but he chose to ignore it and got out of bed. 

Later, as he sat down at his desk to finish up some work before leaving for a senate hearing, he called out to one of the servants. The night was spent mulling in his dreams and he knew he had to apologise to you. He missed how things were before he became Emperor. 

“Arrange for a lunch to be held in the gardens. Send a message to my wife that I wish to eat our midday meal together.” He sat down in his seat to begin work. Yet, the servant remained standing at the doorway. 

“Caesar, the Empress left yesterday.” 

Commodus immediately stopped his movements and looked up at the servant, “Left?” 

The servant got nervous at the changing demeanour of his emperor, “The Empress left last night for the villa in Ostia, Caesar. There is no word on a date of return.” 

Commodus could feel his jaw lock at the servant's words. He leaned back in his chair as anger came through him. He was overwhelmed at the thought that you would leave him. Now, of all times, with the grand festival coming up. He dismissed the servant with a wave of his hand before resting his chin on it. 

The frustration that had been building for weeks, the pain of his work, reached a boiling point. He picked up a parchment weight on his table and threw it at the wall across the room. The glass shattered, creating a cascade of sound as the shards hit the marble flooring. 

He was angry at himself, yet his mind was too clouded to recognize it. He felt he was failing his duties as emperor, but nothing hurt more than the recognition that he was failing as a husband. The vows he swore were nothing but words in the wind. The honour he cultivated in his lifetime was tainted by his inability to balance his duties and his marriage. 

Commodus twisted his thoughts around. You had left him when he needed you; when he was going to apologize. It was like his childish self came out again and he became angry with you, despite knowing deep down those negative feelings were towards himself. 

He decided then that if you wanted to play a game of ignoring one another, he could play too. His pride and self-serving nature had always been his downfall, but it was so easy to slip back into his old habits. 

Commodus would not seek you out, but wait for you to seek him out.

You walked down the halls of the villa one afternoon, content with the work you had done that morning. It had been a week since your departure from the palace and it felt like you could finally breathe. The distance you put between you and Rome calmed your nerves. Here, away from courtly gossip, you could finally relax and refocus on your duties. You had become more productive and found yourself having free time at the end of the day. 

In the time between work, you had given more thought to your marriage. The fresh sea air and cool breeze gave clarity that had been hindered by the stifling heat and chaos of Rome. Your thoughts towards your husband were mixed and buried with confusion. You were conflicted. 

Your heart ached for him, missing his presence, but you also acknowledged that being away in Ostia did not feel like much of a difference from when you were back at the palace. Either way, there had been a distance between you two; only now it was more physical.  

When you courted, he had not been emperor. He was simply a prince with far too much time on his hands. You should have known that his dedication and commitment would waver once he rose to his position, but you naively thought it would be the way things had been for the rest of your shared lives. 

You knew he loved you, but had his pride changed that? 

Your thoughts on your marriage went back and forth. You thought back to a recent event in Rome, where a distant old friend filed for separation from her husband. There was no possible way you wished to do that. You swore an oath to the man you love and while he has changed, there was no change in your heart – despite the nagging pain you felt at his growing indifference. But, you wanted to help your friend now that you had more free time. 

A servant was walking down the wall with old sheets from your bedroom in their hands that needed to be washed when you flagged them down. 

“Could you fetch me a copy of the Twelve Tables and,” You looked around the hall and lowered your voice, “anything relating to topics such as marriage and annulment…” 

The servant's eyes went wide at your request but nodded fervently and quickly made their way to set about the task. You released a breath. You were only curious, especially since your old friend was still going through the proceedings. Perhaps, after reading these texts, you may be able to help her.

Commodus was in agony. At least, what he could perceive as terrible pain. The day after you left he swore he would wait for you to come to him, but he immediately wished to abandon that plan. It was stupid, born from his childish anger. Yet, he did not go to you. The immediate loss of his anger was replaced by shame and disappointment in himself. 

How could he even grace your presence when he had been such a horrible husband? How could he look you in the eye and beg for forgiveness when he did not think himself worthy of it?

He spent his days working. The nights he could hardly find sleep. Commodus would get in bed and try to sleep, but the lack of your familiar and calming presence would keep him up. That was when he would wander the halls of the palace until near-morning. There were moments when he swore he saw you, your back facing him as you turned down another hallway. He would run, nearly sliding across the marble to catch you but would always be greeted by an empty hallway. 

Despite the incessant heat, the palace felt cold without you. 

One thing he had done was keep tabs on what you did. He would receive a message on your daily activities and all that you had accomplished. To Commodus, this felt like he was there with you. On this day, as he sat at his desk and stared down at foreign treaties, the messenger arrived. He waved his hand to signal for the man to start talking. 

“The Empress has finalized all of the plans for the festivities. She took the rest of the day off, Caesar, but it may be troubling… Your wife has requested certain texts to read.” The man spoke. 

Commodus started scratching some words down onto a wax tablet, “That is not troubling. My wife always reads, even for leisure.” 

“They are texts on family law, Caesar. Specifically divorce…” The servant's voice trailed off. The stylus Commodus was using snapped in his hand. His head shot up instantly.

“What?” He stood up from his chair, the legs scraping against the flooring and creating an unsavoury sound. 

The servant began to shake under the rage-filled gaze of his emperor, “The Empress has requested–”

“I heard you the first time!” Commodus exploded. He immediately stopped and took multiple deep breaths to calm himself, “Have an escort ready in ten minutes. I leave for Ostia.”

There was always something enchanting about the setting sun. It was a soft blaze that emanated hues of red, orange, and pink. The colours met like friends in the sky, painting the clouds in their light. The same colours reflected off of the rippling water as you sat on the thick sands of the beach. You watched the sun as it hung low in the sky and displayed warmth as it showed one final moment of love before it disappeared for the night. 

You came here each evening and got lost in the swirls of colours. It was the only moment when you could think of anything other than the festival or Commodus. Here, you did not exist. You acted as a means simply to watch the beautiful creation made by the gods that was born from chaos. 

A cool breeze passed over your face and you closed your eyes. The peaceful moment changed, however, when you heard the sound of footsteps making impressions in the sand. You glanced to your right where they were approaching and saw Commodus making his way to you. You turned back to the water. 

He reached you and sat down, leaving enough distance to not anger you, yet still made you ache for him to be closer. You did not speak as you did not know what would happen if you did; whether you would wish to fall into his arms or curse him out. 

Commodus was silent for a few moments and looked out at the sunset with you. Eventually, he shifted and brought his knees up to his chest to rest his arms on his knees. 

“It looks like the sunset on the day we met,” His voice was soft with the power of nostalgia, “I remember the celebration at your father’s house. It became so stifling that I needed a break. You were there on that balcony alone with nothing but the sunset gracing your skin. It appeared as though the sky was reaching out to you like the Gods were vying for your attention.” 

His words touched you greatly. They were more than what you wanted. That was all you needed; communication. The gentleness he used to display for you, the attention he gave you. What you missed the most was when he would come to you with his problems and talk about them. That was what it meant to be in a marriage – to work as one, not as fractured pieces. 

You stayed silent, but he continued, “Even then, you were not afraid to speak your mind. The only person other than my father that would speak to me directly. We spoke of practically everything. I could not fathom the thought of leaving your presence afterwards. Your warmth…” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Commodus as he turned to look at you. 

“I knew then that I had fallen in love with you. I understood why the Gods would fight for you.” You almost wanted to cry at his words. It was as if he had returned to you, the old Commodus. 

However, you could not let him get away with swaying you with sweet words. You were not a person easily taken by honeyed sentiments. 

“It is not possible to fall in love in only a few hours.” Your voice was curt as you watched the orange and pink hues ahead of you. 

“I didn’t think that as well until I met you.” He spoke. 

This damn man and his words… 

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” You responded. 

“I know,” He voiced, “The entire week was agony without you. And while that suffering hurt I realized that it was the same feelings you have experienced since I became emperor. I was physically there but gone in every other sense of the word. In every way you needed me.” Commodus moved so that he was on his knees next to you as he sat back on his feet. 

“I have failed in my duties as a husband. There may not be anything I can say other than I am sorry but words are not enough. Please, my love, let me show you how much I mean it. I only ask that you do not resort to a separation yet. Give me some time and then make that decision.” Commodus was practically begging, something which you had never seen before. Yes, he acted sweet with you in private, but his outer exterior was always cold to others. He had to put on that face to be taken seriously as emperor. Now, he was begging to be taken seriously as a man. 

“Separation? Why would I do that?” You finally turned to him and saw the redness that rimmed his eyes. There was a desperate look on his face that you did not wish to ever see again, it pained your heart too much. 

“I know that you requested texts on divorce.” His voice cracked only slightly, but it was enough to break you down completely. You then understood that he truly thought you wanted to have your marriage ended. 

“Oh, Commodus…” You sighed. Your hand reached out to cup his face. The moment your skin brushed his, his eyes fluttered close and leaned into your touch as a single tear escaped one of his eyes. Your thumb brushed the salty water away. 

“The agony you speak of during our separation is something familiar to me. And you were right in saying I have felt it too, but for longer. But darling,” You cupped both of his cheeks, staring directly into his eyes that were lit up by the light of the setting sun, “I would never leave you. Not today, not tomorrow, and certainly not any other date. I requested those books because a friend is going through a separation. I only wished to help her.” 

Commodus let out a strangled breath of relief. His hands reached up to cup yours that cradled his face. Though, a look of burdened curiosity came over his features.

“But you had entertained the idea?” His voice was soft, broken. You lowered your hands from his skin but continued to hold his hands to provide comfort. 

“I will not lie to you. It crossed my mind for a brief moment,” You saw his expression fall but continued, “And I felt like it killed me. No matter how much you hurt me, leaving would be a betrayal to my very heart.”  

“I have failed my duties to you. I will be a better husband and I will earn forgiveness.” He promised you, his voice strong. 

You held up his hand and kissed the back of it, missing the feeling of his skin on your lips, “I do not want an apology. I only wish that you speak to me. That we communicate as a husband and wife first and emperor and empress second.”

He nodded vehemently, “Always, my love, always.” 

As if you could not stand a single width of distance any longer, you moved next to him. You wanted to rest your head on his shoulder, but Commodus shifted so that his legs captured you and you leaned back against his chest. His arms wrapped around your front, holding you close as he buried his head in your hair, nose brushing your temple as he left gentle kisses there. 

Staring out at the sunset, you could finally see what Commodus had been talking about. The hues were so familiar to that night on the balcony when you turned and saw him for the first time. It was like a shift in your worldview. He had been dressed in ceremonial armour that shined in the low light. His eyes, brighter than any others, never left you that whole evening. You had been quickly enchanted. 

“Do you view every sunset as the same one from that night?” You asked. 

“Every evening when I look at the sky, all I can see is you.” It was exceedingly comforting to have your husband back. The feeling of his warmth, protecting you from the sea breeze, was something you wished to cling to for eternity. 

You leaned back and looked up at him to place kisses down his jaw. He hummed with content and his hold became more firm. 

“Do you ever consider writing poetry?” You asked. Commodus always had a way with words that would easily cause you to melt. 

He laughed and looked down at you, “My words are only for you.” His answer was succinct, yet held a million promises in them. 

There, the two of you sat in the sand and listened to the waves hit the shore. You watched your husband, seeing the man you had first met come back once again. 

In the blue-green hues of his eyes, you could see the sun lowering in their reflection.

This idea came to me while staring at the sunset. Go outside every once in a while, and then you can hallucinate scenarios with men that are beyond your reach.

[bryan-writes]

Undone— Satan x reader

Summary: You’re in attendance at a demon council meeting and completely distracted and enamored by Satan’s demon form. He notices.

Fluff, a little hint of spice?, small makeout sesh, cheesy flirting, short and sweet, soft Satan <3

credit to @strangergraphics for the dividers!! Check them out <3

Satan’s presence commanded the room. His demon form was a perfect balance of elegance and raw power— the sweeping horns, the golden adornments glinting under the chandelier light, and the sharp contrast of his piercing green eyes against his midnight-black attire. You couldn’t keep your composure as you stood by his side at the demon council meeting. The room was vast and intimidating, but all you could focus on was him. He was magnetic, his every movement exuding authority and grace, and it left you utterly breathless.

When Satan turned to address one of the council members, his voice was steady and authoritative, carrying an edge that made your heart skip. He glanced at you occasionally, offering a faint, reassuring smile when he caught your wide-eyed awe. He noticed, of course. How could he not? Your gaze never left him, and every small movement of his sent a ripple of butterflies through your chest. Your thoughts were a mess, hopelessly entangled in just how breathtaking he looked. You tried to focus on the proceedings, but his presence consumed you, leaving you hopelessly distracted.

Caught off guard, you stammered, “I-I wasn’t… I mean, you just… you look amazing.” Your cheeks burned as the words tumbled out, and you bit your lip, wishing you could take them back. The heat spreading across your face was unbearable.

Satan’s smirk faltered for just a moment, before softening into something warmer. “Amazing, hmm?” He repeated, tilting his head slightly as he studied your expression. He took a step closer, closing the distance between you. “Coming from you, that means more than you know.” His voice dipped lower, and the sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten.

Before you could respond, Satan offered his hand. “Come with me. Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

Your hand found his almost instinctively, and you let him guide you out of the council hall and back to the House of Lamentation. The walk was quiet, but tension buzzed between you, unspoken words lingering in the air. You kept stealing glances at him, marveling at how the moonlight seemed to soften his sharp features, highlighting the elegant curve of his horns and the glint of gold on his clothes. By the time you reached his room, your heart was pounding all over again. He opened the door, gesturing for you to enter first, and the familiar warmth of his space immediately wrapped around you. The scent of books and faint traces of his cologne made you feel both comforted and electrified.

The door clicked shut behind him, and when you turned to face him, the intensity in his gaze made you forget how to breathe. Without a word, you stepped closer, your hands sliding up his chest before wrapping around his neck. You whispered his name once, almost reverently, before pulling him down into a kiss.

This time, there was no hesitation. Satan’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you against him as if he couldn’t bear any space between you. The kiss was hungry and desperate, his usual composed demeanor utterly gone. You clung to him, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging just enough to draw a soft, breathless groan from him. His lips left your briefly, trailing down to your jaw and neck, leaving you trembling with every touch. His hands wandered, tentative but firm, as if he was memorizing every part of you he could reach.

When you both finally pulled back, his face was flushed, his hair was an absolute mess, and faint marks from your kisses were already visible on his skin. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he stared at you, his emerald eyes darker than you’d ever seen them. You could barely catch your own breath, your lips kiss bitten and buzzing from his attention.

“Stay,” he said suddenly, his voice low and hoarse. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing softly over your cheeks. “Stay with me tonight. Please.”

You didn’t need to think twice. Nodding, you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips, gentler this time, as if to soothe the storm you’d both unleashed. Satan exhaled a shaky breath, guiding you to his bed and pulling you down with him. His arms wrapped around you tightly, holding you close as if afraid you might vanish. He adjusted the pillows, ensuring you were both comfortable, before letting his hands rest on your waist, his touch grounding and steady.

Nestled against his chest, you felt his steady heartbeat under your ear, a stark contrast to how yours still felt. Satan buried his face in your hair, his voice a quiet murmur. “You… you have no idea what you do to me.”

You smiled softly, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “I think I’ve got an idea.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “Still, it’s maddening. You’re maddening,” he murmured, though his tone carried nothing but an intense fondness.

The two of you lay there in comfortable silence for a while longer. You shifted slightly, turning so you could look up at him. His eyes fluttered open, and his gaze softened further when it met yours. Reaching up, you brushed a few strands of hair away from his face, marveling at how dispelled and endearing he looked.

“I like seeing you like this,” you admitted quietly. “All undone. Just for me.”

Satan’s lips quirked into a small, lopsided smile. Only for you,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned down to capture your lips in one last, lingering kiss, his touch slow and deliberate, as though he wanted to savor the moment.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes falling shut as his breathing slowed. The weight of the night began to melt away, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your hand. Whatever the world had in store for tomorrow didn’t matter. For now, you were here, in his arms, and everything felt right.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Code of Conduct 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work. 

Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

You put Steve’s bag on the couch. It’s a backup he keeps in his trunk since he spilled coffee on himself during the merger meeting. It was your idea and you’re happy you suggested, though you never expected any of this.

Just like you didn’t expect him to ever see your apartment. Especially not today. You quickly swipe up the used mug from the table and take it into the kitchen. You call through the open doorway as you rinse it out.

“Make yourself at home, sir,” you set the cup on the counter and cut the flow of the tap. “I’ll find you a blanket and a pillow.” You dry your hands then flit back into the front room. “I’m sorry, I can only offer up the couch--”

He’s stood before the bookcase in the corner, squeezed into the narrow space. The couch is against one wall, opposite is a shorter shelf with the television and a few bunny figurines below. You’re overly conscious of the cutesy decor as he stands out of place among the pink checkered rug and fluff couch throws.

That reminds you.

On cue, Mitzy emerges, yowling for her evening meal. It’s not quite time yet but she’s an opportunist at heart. The tortoiseshell curls around your ankles and you bend to pick her up. She’s a comfort amid the intrusion of your space. You may have invited him here but it isn’t entirely by choice.

“Cozy,” remarks as he turns to you. “Oh, hi, kitty.”

He nears and Mitzy tries to crawl around your neck. She’s not a fan of strangers. You catch her before she can claw you too much and set her down. She scurries off.

“Oh, sorry,” he frowns.

“It’s not you. She’s fussy. She comes out for food and that’s about it.” You shrug.

“Ah, right,” he sniffs. “I like the bunnies.”

“Um, yeah, those... I just thought they’re cute,” you bounce nervously, “I’ll go get that blanket.”

“Sure,” he rubs his neck and look aways bashfully. “I’m sorry I’m falling apart like this, Rosie.”

“Mr. Rogers, it’s okay. We all have moments.” You assure him. If only he knew how many you had.

“You are so nice. Too nice,” he hangs his head and turns away. His shoulders slant as if he’s trying to make himself small. He’s too big for that.

You leave him and go down to find your single spare quilt and pillow. The blanket you made at a crafting class with Missie and the pillow, you think Dizzie left it here. You’re not entirely sure. 

Thinking of the girls, you wish you could ask them for a bit of advice right then. Elfie would know what to do. Billie would tell you to send your boss to a hotel, you know it. She’s probably right. Izzie would surely know what to do.

You come back as Steve stands by the window. The outline of his figure almost startles you. You’ve never had a man in your space. Not this one. You had one long-term relationship and when he decided he liked the girls on Instagram better, he booted you to the curb. Young and stupid. Still got a bit of both of those.

“Are you hungry?” You ask. “I could make some pasta or something.” You put the blanket and pillow on the couch. “Or, I could leave you alone.”

He’s quiet as he stares out at the brick wall across from your apartment. “I’m not very hungry, sweetheart.” He sniffs and reaches to wipe his face. “Do you mind if I shower?”

“Oh, sure, yeah, go ahead. I’ll get a towel.”

You grab a fresh towel and leave it in the bathroom. You busy yourself with dinner before Steve finally takes the invitation. You're a bit relieved to have a bit of time to yourself. You feel like you're still at work.

You're just about done the alfredo by the time he reappears. He's only in a pair of gym shorts, a bit bashful as he keeps the towel around his neck. You peek up and quickly go back to grating parmesan.

"Smells good. I feel fresher," he sighs.

"Mmhm," you squeak.

"Sorry, I only had gym shorts to sleep in. Gonna save the suit for tomorrow."

"That's fine. Did you want a plate?" You offer and turn away.

You never really thought about Steve like that. Never wondered about the man behind the title or the tie. He's just your boss. Still, the vision of his thickly muscled arms and stomach cloys in your head.

You plate him up linguine with sauce and sprinkle over the parmesan. It's a simple meal for a simple budget. He thanks you and sits at the small round table you don't often use without company.

Your phone vibes. You're thankful for the distraction. It's a meme in the group chat. You can't wait for the night out.

You sit with Steve to eat. You try not to look at him.

"So, who were you texting? Not to be nosy."

"Oh, it's... my friends. We're going out this week. Haven't seen them in a while."

"Sounds fun," he tries to smile. You feel bad for him.

"Maybe Bucky will be free," you suggest. "Probably a good time to catch up."

"Yeah, if he wasn't so busy at work. New partner, I guess. They don't get along."

"No? That's too bad. He always nice to me," you twirl the thick noodles around your fork.

"You like him?" Steve asks.

"Well, he's friendly. Can't say that about everyone."

"Right," he nods and takes a bite. He lowers his lashes and wiggles his nose.

"And he's your friend so... he must be as nice as you."

He swallows and looks at you with a sigh, "you're too good to me, Rosie. I'm such a mess and--" he pauses, "and you're a great cook. This is delicious."

"Oh thanks. It's pretty easy to make," you assure him.

"Yeah? Maybe you can show me. I'll have to learn since..." he leans forward suddenly and catches his head in his hands. He shoulders heave and he sobs. "I'm sorry, Rosie. I'm just going through it-- It keeps sneaking up on me."

Your heart wrenches. You feel so bad. You're not sure what to do but then you think of your friends. What would you do if they were heartbroken?

You stand and gently touch his shoulder, "it's gonna take some time."

He sniffles then suddenly, he opens his arms and snags you in and embrace. He buries his face in your stomach and weeps. You stand, frozen, and look down at his golden hair. You cautiously bring your hand up to caress his head.

"It's okay, sir, shhhh," you coax him gently. Maybe if he cries it out, he'll get some good sleep.