#set as a GoT au set beyond the wall

[rise-my-angel]

.

[smut-slut69]

"Tease"

★Hashira x fem!Reader★Modern AU★

Synopsis★You've been flirting, no, teasing the Hashira all day long. How do they react when they get you alone after being riled up all day. (Except for Muichiro Ofc, I'm not a weirdo.)

★Twt links Included★

MITSURI KANROJI

Mitsuri was beyond grateful to have you as an assistant. Being in charge of her own company was her greatest accomplishment. But keeping up with everything being a CEO required was hard. But you always made it look easy. You helped her with everything she needed and were always so sweet to her. But she didn't realize what that did to her until now. 

The first time she realized the effect you had on her, was when she was panicking right before a big meeting and she had spilled coffee all over her white shirt. She was convinced she was going to fumble this deal already and now she looked unprofessional on top of that. Her breathing was uneven and she felt like getting oxygen into her lungs was growing harder by the minute. 

You entered her office, eyes widening at the state your boss was in. You were quick to rush to her side and grasp her pretty hands on your own. 

“Mitsuri” you call her name, “ look at me dear,” you tell her and your voice cuts through the fog in her mind. 

“Breathe with me”, you tell her, demonstrating deep and steady breaths as she stares at you. Mitsuri nods her head, trying her best to mimic your breathing. It takes a while but she finally calms down and you smile at her, stroking over her hands with your thumbs, “Good girl, you did a good job. Now don't panic, stay calm. Use your words and talk to me, tell me what's wrong”

Mitsuri takes another deep breath, “.....I-I'm nervous, y/n. If I mess up this deal then the company’s stocks could plummet so far down it would be impossible to climb back up. And then everything I've worked for would be gone!” she frowns, “and I ruined my shirt too! ”

You nod, taking in the situation, and deciding what to do. After thinking, you stand up. 

Mitsuri’s eyes widen as she watches your painted nails fumble with your shirt, unbuttoning it. 

“W-What are you doing?” she stutters, stumbling as she sees more of your milky skin revealed as you manage to pull your entire shirt off. 

You ignore her question, motioning for her to do the same and she tries her best to focus on her shirt and not on the way your full tits were practically spilling out of your Lace black bra. 

She pulls off her shirt and you take it from her putting it on and she smiles in realization. 

You hold out your own, looking at her expectantly, “Go on, wear it” and she does, sliding on the shirt while you slide on hers. You take her hand and lead her towards the conference room, pulling her in front of you. 

“Stop doubting yourself, you're a smart girl, so so smart, okay? You can do this!” you assure her, squeezing her hand. 

A brazen blush flushes across her cheeks and she stumbles over her words. “O-okay”

And she had been infatuated ever since. 

You were so kind, so soft, so gentle. And the way you would talk to her when she was stressed, or frustrated. Calling her a good girl, telling her she was doing perfectly. It always made her so wet, a deep need pulsing in her clit. 

She felt like a pervert, like a no-good slut when she thought about the way she would go home after work and play with herself to the thought of you. But the guilt went away with how hard she always came thinking about you. 

And the guilt was definitely easing away now her favorite pink dildo was shoved deep inside her after a particularly rough day at work. But part of her had grown to love rough days. Because it means she got to hear extra reassurance from you. Which meant ducking herself felt so much better. 

She was so lost in the sensation of the dildo against her walls, that Mitsuri barely heard her phone ringing. But when she heard the ringtone she set specifically to never miss one of your calls, she was quick to reach for her phone, answering. 

“Hey dear” you greet her, and she nearly cums right there. You sounded sexier every time she heard your voice. “H-hey,” Mitsuri answers. 

“I'm calling about that deal we closed a couple of months ago, I was talking to…”Mitsuri tried to listebut n, she did. But hearing you talk, voice low and relaxed made her reach down for the dildo still stuffed inside her. Any doubt about fucking her pussy disappearing as she pulls the fat cock out to its tip and thrusts back in. 

She listened to your voice, every draw of your S's, every roll of your R's. And god she was soaking, pussy leaking all over her thighs. 

Mitsuri hadn't even noticed when you finished talking, too focused on trying to keep quiet. You call her name once, twice, and the third time you hear a timid moan and loud squelching. And then you understand what's happening. 

“Hmmm, wow Mitsuri…I'm wounded” You smirk “Too busy playing with that pussy to listen to me?”

Mitsuri definitely hears those words and is quick to sit up. “Oh my god! This is so embarrassing, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I couldn't help it and-”

“Shhh” you interrupt, “did I tell you to stop?” You speak and your tone of voice makes a shiver run down her spine. 

“n-no” Mitsuri answers you. “Then keep going,” you instruct. And she doesn't argue, quick to pick back up her pace and you chuckle at the wet noises you can hear. 

“My, my, you're a sloppy girl, aren't you?… Let me guess, stuffing your hole with a dildo? ” you suspect. 

“Mhmm” she hums, “It’s my favorite one, I use it whenever I think about you” she moans and you grin, “Aww, you touch that pretty pussy to me all the time, huh?” and Mitsuri nods, desperately fucking the dildo into her cunt. “Every time you call me a good girl at work I soak my panties,” she tells you. 

“You’re fucking filthy, I can hear your pussy creaming, are you gonna cum?” and Mitsuri sighs out a yes. 

“...Slow down” you command and you can sense the protest on Mitsuri’s tongue, but before she can say anything you speak up again, “You can be a good girl and do that for me right?” and Mitsuri melts at that, slowing her strokes. 

“That’s my good girl, fuck yourself slow and hard f’me,” you tell her, and Mitsuri whines,  “Please, Y/n I need to cum, you make me so fucking wet, I need it!” she whimpers. There was no way this pace could get her off. 

But soon the hard strokes are sending Mitsuri’s eyes to the back of her head. The younger girl held her legs up to drive the dildo deeper into her pussy. And as her moans picked up from the new pace you set you found yourself clenching your thighs. A shaky sigh leaves you as Mitsuri grows close again. Her dildo hit the perfect spot inside her. It was so deep she felt like she was seeing stars. and your noises just made her louder, grinding the dildo inside of her. The motion sent her tumbling over the edge.

“Y-Y/n I’m c-cumming!” she told you a smile gracing your face.

“That’s it, baby, keep fucking yourself through it” you whisper into the phone, “Make that creamy pussy cum for me, such a good girl for me, you're doing so good”

Your praise just makes her whimper, the younger girl feeling tears of overstimulation leaving her as her pussy one-ups your request and squirts. 

Though she nearly does cry when your voice goes quiet. A desperate plea leaves her lips all over again as Mitsuri doesn’t stop fucking her needy pussy.

“Again, please Y/n don’t stop talking, please make me cum again!”

Tengen Uzui

Tengen's life had been stressful lately. He was closing up a huge deal for his company and spent nearly all his time holed up in his office, yelling at people on the phone and trying to keep his company from taking. He barely had time to think about eating or cleaning. And it was worse when his wives had left town to do some business for him. They tried their best to make sure their husband was eating and sleeping. But during times like these, when they weren't there. He was grateful for you. His cute little maid who cooked him nice, hearty meals. Who made sure he rested. And had a bad habit of cleaning up the house with no panties around.

Tengen’s jaw clenched as he watched you, bent over, cleaning a bookshelf near his desk. He was trying to focus on the words his assistant was spewing to him over the phone. But he could focus, how the hell was he supposed to get anything done when the pretty girl he hired to clean up his house was pantieless and bent over so close to him? He had noticed it so many times today, you bent over in so many different rooms, conveniently as soon as he walked in.

Your pussy was so pretty, puffy lips, cute little clit snug between them. And you were wet, so wet that slick was dripping sloppily down your thighs. You had to have felt it and he determined your lack of underwear was intentional. 

Lucky for you, he needed something to relieve his stress. 

“Hey Nijimaru, I gotta call you back,” Tengen says, not listening to his assistant's squeaks of protest as he hangs up the phone.  A shiver flows down your back as you feel a pair of eyes glued to your back.

“Y/n” Tengen’s booming voice echoed out through his office. You stand up straight, turning around to look your boss in the eye. “Yes Sir Tengen” you answer sweetly.

Tengen’s eyes lock with yours, “Come here” he demands and you obey, walking closer to him. He crosses his legs, “When I hired you, you were given a dress code, correct?”

You nod your head, “Yes Sir”

“Are you honoring that dress code Y/n?”

You answer with another nod, “Of course Sir.” and Tengen tsks.

“Bend over my desk” he commands and your eyes widen. But you don’t argue, doing as he says, bending over his desk. Now he can see your sopping slit up close. “Y/n please tell me...are undergarments a part of your uniform?”

“Y-Yes sir, they are” you answer. 

“Hmm” Tengen hums, letting his hands grasp your ass cheeks, spreading them to get a better look at your pussy, “Then where are yours?”

“I-I…”You stutter, “I wanted to make you relax, you’ve been so stressed lately. And y–you hired me to take care of you”

"I thought this might make you feel better, seeing as your wives are away Sir"

Tengen hums, dragging a finger through your needy slit, “Aww, you’re a sweet girl aren’t you” he coos at you, swiping delicate circles over your clit, “You wanted to use your pretty cunt to help me relax?”

“Mhmm” you stutter, pushing your ass back onto him, a silent plea for more.

He groans as he hears your cute little whimpers, moving to sink a finger in you. “Just as tight as you look,” he gruffs, fingering your tiny hole faster. Your hands grip the edge of his desk, humping harder against his hand as your eyes cross in pleasure. 

Tengens eyes trailed over you, watching the shake in your legs over only one finger, laughing at the squeal you give as he fits in a second. He curls the lengthy digits inside you, thumb still rubbing furious circles on your clit.

It had barely been five minutes and you could feel yourself growing close. You didn’t know how his wives kept up with him. Everything about him was so big, so much.

“S-Sir Tengen, I-I think I’m gonna cum!”You whine, and Tengen Chuckles because he knew, how could he not know you were close with the way your pussy was drenching his fingers. 

Just like you had warned your orgasm rushes over you, and it’s the hardest you think you’ve ever come. Pleasure hit you from the tips of your ears down to your curled toes and you moaned loudly, Tengen working you through your high the whole way through. 

As your boss’s fingers slowed, you slumped against his desk, legs as weak as Jelly. You whine when Tengen grabs your hair, pulling your weak body up and against him. He pressed soft kisses against your neck, suckling on the sensitive skin. You could feel his hard-on pressing into you and your hips ground against him. 

Tengen sucked in a breath, “God, you're a dirty girl” he said, voice husked. “You just came and you already want me to stuff this pretty pussy” Reaching to pull his cock out of his pants, he traces your slit gently.

"Let me fuck this slutty cunt"

Gyomei Himejima

Your husband hates when you stress yourself out with work. Both of you were in high positions of power in his company. And while Gyomei knew how to keep himself out of a stressful state…you seemed to have a knack for consistently being in one. Which would often get you on forced work breaks courtesy of your boyfriend, where you stayed home and took some time for yourself. For the first couple of days, it was fun, having time to yourself and you were always grateful you had a husband who cared enough to give you breaks. But there were only so many books you could re-read and so many naps you could take before you got bored. Which left you with no choice but to play your favorite game while your husband was at work. 

It was normal for Gyomei to receive text messages from you during the day. You were a sweetheart, always asking if he had eaten or if he had taken a break yet. He asked his phone to read aloud your message, a smile gracing his face when he heard you speak, you had sent him a voice message. 

“Hey baby, it’s about your lunchtime right,? You’re probably getting ready to eat…..And I was thinking about you, about what you usually eat” you say, and he can practically hear the pout in your voice as you continue, “And now m'll wet, hear…listen”

Gyomei’s face tinged pink as the noises of your sloppy pussy filled his office. He could tell you had your fingers stuffed in you, and he also knew that would never be enough to satisfy you. 

And clearly, it wasn’t. As he had been getting voice messages from you, all. day. long. All featuring sounds of your pretty pussy, soaking wet, with the same pleas for him to eat your pussy pouring out of you. 

Gyomei was an easily focused man, he knew how to control his urges incredibly well. But every time he would regain some sense of control over himself, willing his growing boner back down, you’d send him another voice message, each one dirtier than the last. 

By the time your husband made it back home, his work pants were dark with a patch of pre that was leaking from his angry tip, and his eyes were hazed over with need. He didn’t even bother taking his blazer off, just throwing his briefcase somewhere and making a beeline right to your shared bedroom. 

You sit up excitedly, a grin on your face as you spot your boyfriend coming in. You had been spread out on the bed for hours, rubbing your clit to the thought of your husband trying to hold himself together at work. 

“Hey, love! How was work?”You ask a sly tone in your voice. 

To your surprise, Gyomei doesn’t answer you. 

No, he walks to the edge of the bed and drops to his knees, feeling for your ankles and dragging you so your body is practically hanging off the bed. You squeal when his tongue digs into your folds without even so much as a warning, back arching and fingers clenching. “F-fuck!” you whine. 

Gyomei was good at eating you, always has been. His tongue was lengthy and nimble, making a mess out of your already messy folds. He smoothed his tongue just below your clit, dipping it into the sweetness of your hole just to move and suckle on your clit harshly. 

He had been thinking of eating your pussy all day, dreaming of hearing the squelch of it on his tongue. Your pussy was heaven, but after a workday full of torture. He was planning on giving you hell. 

You were just as blissed out as your boyfriend was, a hand reaching to grab his lying next to your thighs. Gyomei intertwined your fingers and you squeezed his hand for dear life as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you. 

Your eyebrows pinched together in pleasure. “..Oh my god, m’bouta to cum baby!” you moan, pussy throbbing on his tongue as your admission only made him suckle on your needy clit harder. 

You cum with a loud cry, hips grinding up into his ever-giving tongue as your juices soak his chin. He helps you ride out your orgasm and when you finally come down from it, you shiver, his tongue still working on you. 

Your hips wiggle and squirm, the feeling of overstimulation making you wince. “B-baby, I came already, you can stop now,” you tell him, moaning as his efforts doubled down again. 

“Sh-shit” you curse as he starts up again in full force. Your thighs tremble and you try to sit up to watch your husband eat you. 

The sight of him, wet-nosed and disheveled stole a second orgasm from you. You flopped back on your bed, thighs threatening to close around Gyomei's head as he tortured you with sucks straight on your overestimated  clit. 

“Baby, I-I can't-” you whine, free hand coming to push at his head but he swats it away

“You’ve been teasing me all day and now you’re complaining?”He speaks with an annoyed tone in his voice as he wraps his arms around your legs to keep you from squirming as he flicks at your clit with his free hand. 

“I don't think I can take anymore!” you cry out, feeling your third orgasm cusp over you. Gyomei tsks at you, “You can take it and you will” He tells you. 

“You wanted me to eat woman, so let. me. eat.”

Giyuu Tomioka 

Having a sugar baby was fun for Giyuu. He had money, more than he even knew what to do with. But you sure knew. And he was okay with that. But you were a princess, a spoiled one at that. You thought you could get anything you wanted with a flash of your tits or a quick handjob. And the worst part is, that shit always worked with Giyuu. He just couldn’t say no to you. 

Everyone in his office knew you. The bimbo that somehow has the Giyuu Tomioka wrapped around her manicured finger. The whole office straightened up when they heard the click of your 6 inches on the hardwood floors. Your tits nearly bounce out of your top as you walk and your skirt leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. It was absurd to wear that in an office building of the same caliber as Giyuu’s. But they knew better than to be rude to you or say anything about your clothing choices. 

The last girl who commented on your clothes got fired the next day, and some say she hadn’t been able to get another job since. 

But you weren’t here to stun other people with your outfits or get hating bitches fired. You had your eye on something you wanted. So you decided to visit your sugar daddy with a special request. 

You walked into Giyuu's office, not bothering to knock. He was on the phone, raising his voice at someone who wasn’t doing their job right. But when he spots you, he hangs up with one final demand for things to get done right. 

“Hey Angel…what are you doing here?” he asks you softly, opening his arms. You strut over to him and give him his usual hug and kiss. 

“I wanted to see my favorite boy,” You say, sitting on his desk, swinging your legs as he sits back down in his office chair. 

Giyuu chuckles, “You mean you wanted to see my wallet” he laughs. 

You gasp in mock offense, “Hey! I like you too. But your wallet gives me the things I really need!”

“Yeah? And what do you really need”

“....A new car,” You say sheepishly, and Giiyu rolls his eyes.

“And what the hell happened to the one I bought you last week?” he questioned. 

You look at the ground, “I uh…..I crashed it” you mumble and Giyuu sighs, rubbing at his forehead. 

“Oh you mean like you did to the one I bought before that, and the BMW I bought you, and the pink lambo you insisted you needed as well?!”

“But baby I need a new car and I saw this vintage pink convertible and it’s only $176,000” you whine. 

“I’m not spending almost 200,000 dollars on another car for you to crash Angel” Giyuu says and you pout as he doesn’t look at you, typing away at his computer. 

“Baby, pretty please! I’ll do anything” you say, falling on your knees in front of him, looking up at him.

That catches his attention and he looks down at you, a small smirk on your face, as he settle, ’s back into his chair, “.... So dirty just for a fucking car, you’re one nasty fucking girl”

You grin, reaching to unbuckle his pants and pull his soft cock out. Loving how it jumps in your hands, “Only for you Daddy” and he groans at that. You gently lean over to suckle his tip into your mouth, slowly taking him deeper. You fucking loved the feeling of his cock growing hard in your mouth. 

“Can we make a deal Daddy? ” you whispered, pulling off his thick cock. You shoved down your tank top and smiled as Giyuu watched your tits spill out. 

Giyuu nods, eyes not looking up at your face, “What are the terms angel?”

Your hand gently comes to fondle the man’s balls as you speak, “I’ll make you cum if….you buy me my car” You grin and Giyuu groans. “I’ll think about it,” he shrugs. 

And unhappy with that answer, you quip back pettily, “Then I’ll think about milking your cock”

Giyuu chuckled at you but very soon, the humor in the situation was all gone. 

He had lost track of how long it had been and how many people he yelled at to go away outside of his door. 

You were having fun though, smirking as your sugar daddy’s pretty pink tip leaked over your fist. Gently twisting your wrist over his sensitive shaft, biting your lip excitedly as Giyuu tries to hide his whimpers. 

You continue to play with his cock, stroking him inhumanely fast just to watch him squirm, and stopping just to hear him whine more. 

“A-Angel, you’re being unfair right now” he stuttered.

“I know!”You grin, “But I told you I'd do anything for my car. Even tease you until you give it to me. I can sit here and do this all fucking day, you know I will Daddy,” you say. 

And Giyuu rolls his eyes at you, you were such a fucking minx.

“C’mon Daddy, just give me the car and I’ll let you fuck my throat! I promise Daddy!” And with desperate need he finally relents. 

“Fucking fine! You can have the car Y/n, now stop the t-teasing- fuck”

You didn’t need to be told twice, you were quick to take his cock in your mouth, swallowing him down with expertise. Giyuu groaned, a filthy whine leaving him as he grabbed your ponytail, forcing you down on his cock until your nose was pressed against his pelvis. 

He fucked your face roughly and you tried your best to take it like you promised you would. Tears pricked at your eyes as you gagged on his cock repeatedly. A mess of spit and pre dripping out the sides of your mouth and down onto his pants.

You reached a hand down to press against your clit through your thong. Something about being used like this made you so fucking wet. Your free hand’s nails dug into Giyuu’s pants as a plea to let you up so you could breathe. 

He does, looking down at you with hunger in his eyes. 

“D-Daddy, I-”, deciding you had enough time to breathe he presses you back down onto his cock, chuckling as you gagged again.

“You talk too damn much”

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi always tried his best to make time for you. Taking you out for dinners, taking you out shopping. All he asked was that you give him the time and space to do his job and the rest of his time would be dedicated to you. The only thing was…his girlfriend was a damn brat. Like today, you had been blowing up his phone with needy text messages and videos of yourself. And he told you to be good to him and wait for him to get home so he could take care of you. So imagine his surprise when you strutted into his office, mid-meeting. Your heels clicked noisily on the ground before you plopped yourself right on his lap. In front of all his colleagues and workers. 

You were really fucking lucky Sanemi was the most powerful man in the room right now, or else his career would have run right down the drain in that moment. He narrowed his eyes at you, hoping you could feel his anger through his glare. You weren’t even in business attire. All you had on was some skimpy tank top and a little skirt. And almost every man in the room had their eyes glued to you. 

“The hell are y’all looking at” Sanemi growls, “We have business to attend to so get your professionality in check and get on with it,” he says and everyone listens, knowing better than to upset Sanemi, especially when it comes to you. 

As the meeting continues you seem to grow even bolder, Your hands secretly exploring your boyfriend's pants. Sanemi’s breath stutters and he grabs at your hand, voice low in your ears, “You’re already playing a dangerous game woman, you better chill out” he warns.

And you pout,” You’re no fun,” you say, voice also a whisper.

You leave him alone for the time being until you get another brave idea. 

Your hips discreetly drag along his lap. A slow grind back and forth. Sanemi’s eyes close and he sucks in a breath, grip on your waist tightening. 

It didn’t take long for his cock to grow hard under you, especially with how well he could feel you now. You were always so fucking wet. And right now it was painstakingly obvious you had no panties as he was sure his pants were a sticky mess right now.

On top of that, his leaky tip was dripping down his leg and it was growing increasingly difficult to ignore his hard-on. 

You however seemed to be enjoying yourself, not even bothering to be discreet anymore, Enjoying yourself so much that your lip was tucked in between your teeth, and your small whines grew a little louder every time your clit caught the fabric of his slacks. 

When the meeting was over, Sanemi barked at everyone to get out and they did so immediately without argumentation. The last man closed the door behind him and Sanemi was quick to push you against the meeting table, bending you over. 

His suspicions had been correct, your pussy was bare and soaked, no panties covering your slit. He slaps the fat of your ass and you yelp. 

Sanemi shakes his head at you. “You’re such a fucking slut woman, couldn’t even wait two hours for me to get home?!” he exclaims and you shake your head. 

“I wanted you to fuck me, I couldn’t wait!” You insist with a whine 

Sanemi rolls his eyes at you, finger gently coming to press against your aching clit. 

“I spoil you too damn much, you need to learn a fucking lesson” he snaps at you and that sends some of your arousal dripping down your thigh. “Take my cock out woman” he demands, pulling away from you.

You don’t argue. Hands undoing his belt expertly, pulling his dick out like he asked you to. 

You’re quick to settle on your knees but he stops you, dragging you back up, “Don't even bother women, I said I was going to teach you a lesson not give you what you want” Sanemi says. 

“Now sit on my cock” he instructs you and you gulp excitedly, reaching back to stroke him a few times, not missing the groan he lets out, before lining him up with your cunt and sinking down inch by inch. 

Just as you sit down all the way he flips your skirt down. You try to bounce but he holds you still just as his meeting doors fly open. Your eyes widened as people sat down around you, someone reaching to start up a PowerPoint. You turn to your boyfriend who is smiling wickedly. 

“Don't look at me like that woman, you wanna tease me, then I can tease you”

Kyojuro Rengoku

Being married to Kyojuro was a dream come true. He was kind and treated you so well. Gave you everything you had ever dreamed of. But to do that, he had to work. All the time. And it was pure torture. Being stuck in the house all alone. Being a housewife was fun until you got bored. Then it was a drag. The most eventful time of your day was night. At least you had the thrill of sex when your husband came home. But lately, even you were lacking that. Which is how you got the wonderful idea to brighten up your and your husband's sex life. A little lingerie. 

For the last couple of day you had been greeting your husband, with homemade meals and a different pair of skimpy panties visible underneath your long sheer robe. 

But sadly, your husband barely seemed to notice what your efforts were for. The most you could get was a deep kiss before he skated off to bed. And you were starting to think the worst. After all, you had met the fucking smoke show of an assistant be had hired recently. Maybe he was sick of coming home to you. 

And one night, you finally decided you had had enough when you discarded your robe leaving you only in your lingerie, and he still didn't even think of touching you. As he disappeared down the hallway to your bedroom you voiced your worries, “Are you sleeping with that hot girl you hired at work”

That made Kyojuro freeze and then around, crossing his arms, “Is that a serious question love?”

And you knew the accusation was ridiculous, your husband loved you and you knew that. But you were frustrated. 

“Why would I ask it if I wasn't serious?”

Kyojuro walks towards you, “What's making you think I'm cheating huh?”

“What type of man comes home to a hot ass bitch like me who cooks dinner and wears tight lingerie and doesn't dick them down!” you complain and you render Kyojuro silent. 

“Exactly!" you respond to his silence, " You probably fucked her before you came here, didn't you!” You accuse. 

And realization dawns on Kyojuro's face. He steps closer, backing you against a counter in the kitchen. “Is that why you've been walking around in this skimpy little underwear for a week, you've been needing me Y/n?”

You blush, trying to ignore the feeling of his hands tracing over your waist, “You didn't answer my question, are you sleeping with her!?”

Kyojuro presses kisses against the side of your face, training sloppily along your neck. His hands grasp the underside of your thighs, lifting you up on the counter. 

Sloppy kisses press against your neck as your husband mumbles, “...You really think I'd cheat when I got a girl like you at home”

He kisses you and the tenseness in your bones drops away. You sigh and roll your arms around your husband's neck, kissing him back with just as much fever as he kissed you with. 

Both of you needing air, you two eventually pull away, resting his forehead on yours. 

“I thought you were trying to kill me with all these sets,” he says, “I've been closing up a deal this past week and I had to get some sleep so I could finish it” Kyojuro explains. 

“I knew that if I looked at you for too long I wouldn't be able to hold back. I would've fucked you all night and never slept. But fuck baby, it's like you've been teasing me all week. Went to sleep hard every day this week.”

Your hands gently stroke through his fiery hair, “So you're not cheating?” You ask embarrassed, lip between your teeth. 

Kyojuro nods his head, “Never, and I'm sorry for making you think that” he apologizes.

“Let me make it up to you baby girl” your husband whispers, plucking at your underwear. You’re quick to shuffle the panties down your leg, spreading yourself for your husband. He smiles at your puffy clit, pussy all wet and needy just for him. It had been far too long since he'd taken care of you. 

Kyojuro fiddles with his belt and pulls his cock out. He hadn’t realized how hard you had gotten him, gently tapping his cock on your clit. You shivered out a moan, his hips rutting into yours. You hold him close, hips humping up on his cock. 

“‘Kyo please, put it in” you beg and he chuckles at the way you whimper when his tip catches on your clit. 

“But I’m enjoying this” Kyojuro pouts but relents at your own, pushing his cock into your entrance. You pout at the thick stretch of his cock, looking up into his eyes and holding onto him.

Obanai Iguro

“Still as fucking tight as ever, can't wait to pound this pussy”

You were a tease. Before you met your boyfriend Obansi there was nothing you loved more than going to a club and throwing it back on every cute guy you saw. But you left that life behind when you met your lovely boyfriend, who had managed to tie you down and reel in your wild side. And you have retired your old ways since. But you were a natural flirt, and you couldn’t help the slight slip-up. Especially when you went out to clubs. But you always learned your lesson after, Obanai didn’t play when it came to what was his.

You pulled and wiggled at the restraints wrapped around your hands, tying you to the headboard. Your thighs were forced open by one of your boyfriend's strong hands. You had lost count of how many hours he had been toying with you. Your brain was clouded, muddled. All you could think about was your boyfriend and that’s exactly what he wanted.

“B-baby, please” you beg weakly as the wand vibrator pressed against your soaked-through panties buzzed, “s’been hours”

Obanai just grins, turning up the intensity of the vibrations. Watching your head loll back against the pillows, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

Your clit was pulsing with need, and you were so fucking horny you felt like you were dying. Ever since he had picked you up from the club, and caught you flirting with a guy for drinks and brought you home. It took him exactly 30 minutes to get you tied to the bed and moaning for him. And you have been like this ever since. 

It was pitch black in the room now, the moonlight shining through the windows allowing you to see your boyfriend grinning menacingly on top of you. He had quite literally been edging you for hours and if you had known a little harmless flirting would get you in a position like this. You wouldn’t have gone out at all

“Nah baby stop complaining, I warned you what would happen if I caught you talking to someone else in a club again,” he told you and you barely even hear him, too focused on the orgasm you so desperately wanted. But he pulled the vibrator away before you could reach it and you cried out, bucking your hips up. 

“It was just for free drinks! I d-didn’t even do anything I swear! He was ugly anyway!”You whine and Obanai presses the vibrator back on your clit. 

“If you want a free drink, you call me and I'll send you the money, or buy it for you myself,” he says, and you bite your lip, thighs shaking in his hold as he goes from holding the vibrator still to rubbing tight circles on your clit with it. It was so good it had rendered you soundless, mouth open in a soundless moan. And for a second, you thought he might actually make you cum. 

But he rips away the vibrator and your orgasm falls away, “I just wanted a drink!” you cry out and he shakes his head, “So why didn’t you call me?” he grunts. 

“You were busy!” you argue, “I didn't want to bother you while you were at the company!” Obanai grows quiet, gently clicking the vibrator on its highest setting before pressing down hard on your clit.

“Look at me,” he tells you and you do, trying your best to keep your eyes open through the pleasure as he continues to speak to you. “If you need something….even if it’s as silly as a drink, you call me. I don’t care if I’m busy” Obanai tells you, “You flirt with me if you want a drink, dumbass and me only” he says, “Understood?”

And you nod your head, eyes crossing in pleasure as you feel your orgasm rising all over again. 

“Use your words” he demands

“Okay, i-i’ll call you” you whimper out, and your toes curl as he finally lets you reach your peak. 

“That’s right, cum f’me,” he says as he runs gentle circles on your thigh with his free hand. 

“Good girl”

Shinobu Kocho

You hated how busy Shinobu always was. Being a businesswoman was a time-consuming job, and you knew what you were getting into when you married her. But no one warned you how long you would have to go without getting your brains fucked out because of Shinobu's late hours. Not that you were counting, but it had been nearly 3 weeks since you and Shinobu had had sex, and tonight she had promised you that she would take you out and take good care of you. So how the fuck had you ended up at a fundraising gala for her friend's company, all dolled up and ready for what you thought was supposed to be a date. 

You were annoyed and upset…and of course, Shinobu noticed. But she had forgotten she had to attend this event tonight, so she thought the two of you could make the most of it. But seeing as you were in no mood, she decided to leave you to your own bearings tonight and deal with you later. 

But you had other plans. Perhaps it was the fact that you were on your fourth champagne flute of the night with your lightweight tendencies, or maybe your idea to be….friendly with the other guests was just a brilliant idea.

Either way you were up out of your seat, confidently sauntering up to Shinobu’s coworkers, lingering touches on their arms, always a little too close to be considered friendly. And the sleazy men around you didn’t mind one bit. Eyes lingering on the low cut of your dress too long to notice purple eyes glaring daggers straight at you.

You felt them, you would know Shinobu’s stare anywhere. But it only fueled your actions more. Because, truth be told, you liked having her eyes on you for once in the night. It was such a shitty feeling to have everyone in the room looking at you except your wife. And you wanted her to feel as frustrated as you had been feeling lately.

And you had done a damn good job at it. Because Shinobu was furious. It was infuriating and beyond embarrassing to have her wife going around and flirting with anything that walked. You were all over everyone, giggling, smiling, giving them the eyes you reserved strictly for her. But she truly had enough when she watched the manicure that she paid for trailing up some man’s arm, your lips, red with lipstick she got for you, whispering in the guy’s ear. And the final straw, his clammy hands reaching for your waist, getting his greasy fingers all over the dress she bought for you. 

Having had enough of your foolishness, she doesn’t even say goodbye to her friends before she grabs her things, storming off to grab you. Her grip on your wrist is tight, leaving you no room to argue or wiggle out of her hold. So you settle down, knowing your fun is over, and letting her drag you into the car. 

The ride home was silent, except for Shinobu’s angry mumbles to herself. When you get home you go upstairs, making a beeline to the bathroom to shower and sober up a little. But mainly to escape the tension in the room. When you came back out, Shinobu still had on her suit from earlier, arms crossed while on the bed. She was waiting for you.

“...Come here” She gruffs out, and you can tell by her annoyed tone that you had pushed her too far tonight. 

So you listen to her ask, sitting next to her. Your wife was strong, stronger than you, and she used that to bend you over her knee, your sleep shorts catching on her thigh and riding up your ass. 

Shinobu’s hands gently tease against the flesh of your backside, toying with the flesh as she opens her mouth to speak to you. “You had a lot of fun tonight,” she muses. “Touched all over those sleazy men at that fuckin fundraise”

“I-” You couldn’t finish your sentence, sucking in a breath as Shinobu lands a harsh slap on your ass.  

“I didn’t ask you to speak” she cuts you off and that shuts you up. You bite back a moan as your body tenses from another sharp spank. “You had fun speaking to people all night, you've spoken enough” she sneers with another tap on your ass. “It's my turn”

“So what were you tryna do, huh?” Her spanks calmed a little, opting for harsh squeezes of your ass, “Upset that you had to last an entire night without all my attention?

And the words sting, especially from her tone. But even then you couldn’t help but moan as she spread apart your ass cheeks, gazing down at your clothed pussy. You were wet already, and you really couldn’t help it. It had just been so long since she had touched you. 

Shinobu chuckles at the sight of your soaked-through sleep shorts. “I asked you a question sweetheart, so it’s only polite to answer” your wife spoke and another slap on your ass shook you to answer her. “I…I wanted attention” you say.

“Yeah? You wanted attention from every damn man in the room huh? “ she speaks, grasping your chin with a free hand to make you look at her, “So fucking slutty you’d take attention from anyone who’d give it to you”

“That’s not true!”You pout. And your protest quirks her interest, “Oh?...you’re telling me you weren’t walking around, flirting with anyone who’d talk to you,” she lands another slap on your ass, “Pathetic.” 

And even though you knew that talk like that was normal during times like this, when she had you bent over, ass arched in the air for her favorite part of playing with you, punishment. And you were usually into it. 

The words still hit hard. 

Because you did feel pathetic, to be ignored all night, especially on a night when your wife’s attention was supposed to be on you. 

It did feel pathetic to get more attention from strangers in a room than from Shinobu. And it was pathetic how you weren’t focused on anyone else that night who only paid attention to you when she felt jealous. 

The thoughts running through your head made your bottom lip wobble, and you turned your face out of her hold so she didn't see the hot tears that were beginning to fall down your cheeks. But of course, your wife gives you attention when you don’t want it. 

When Shinobu hears you sniffle, she’s quick to make you look back at her. Seeing your tears, her whole demeanor softens and her voice loses its harsh tone. 

“What’s wrong Mama?” she says to you softly.

And more tears fall down your cheeks as you respond,”..I am pathetic” you frown, “You’ve barely even looked at me these past few weeks ... .but it took me flirting with rando’s for you to even pay attention to me” You express. “I'm pathetic”

Shinobu pauses her movements, staring at your teary eyes before she gently kisses at your tears, “You were acting out because of me darling?” and you nod.

“I just wanted you to pay attention to me…” you pout and Shinobu is quick to gather you up in her arms to hold you close, letting you cry into her shoulder. 

“I’m sorry love, I’m sorry I've been neglecting you lately. I’m so sorry” she tells you. And her apologies calm down your cries. You slowly pull away, wiping your tears with your pajama sleeves. Shinobu gently reaches to hold your cheek, “Can I make it up to you, please baby” she pleads and you nod, allowing her to gently ease your body back on the bed.

Her kisses start on your lips then trail down your jaw, down your neck. Then your pajama shirt was off, Shinobu sloppily kissing over your tits and kissing down your stomach until she reached your sleep shorts. She pulled them and your underwear off in one go, pressing a soft kiss to your mound before climbing over you. 

Her hands gently ran through your slit, smiling at how soaked you were. She started with tight, fast circles on your clit and you couldn’t help moaning, “Oh fuck…I missed you” you whine.

“Is that why you’re so wet, hmm? Been too long since I’ve taken care of you” she hums in your ear, a nasty whimper leaving you as her two fingers slide in your hole. Her fingers weren’t the longest or the thickest. But she always stuffed your pussy just right, curling them just enough to make your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl. You could already feel the coil in your tummy loosening. 

It never helped that she liked to keep eye contact when she fingered you, loving the way you reacted to each thrust of her fingers. Especially when she found the spot inside you that made you clench, a telltale sign you were getting close. “You gonna cum Mama?” she speaks and you nod your head furiously making her grin.

“Go ahead baby, cum f’me”

This was a Request, TYSM for it. It took a while but I had a lot of fun. My requests are always open and I love requests so ask away!

Sorry for any spelling mistakes. Hope you enjoyed!

[magicdustsworld]

𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀(4)

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: A guide on how to properly date your tattooed, big, bad boyfriend.

𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒: Established relationship, slice of life

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Profanity, illness, fluff, mentions of blood, no curse AU, no mentions of y/n.

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟒: 𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇

A/N: ik i haven't posted in a while (in my defence, school is taking up too much of my time to focus on anything else) but I got an off day and this was a quick write up (actually not) jhjhjhs wc - 3.7k. Hope you enjoy <3

Divider credits - @cafekitsune

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟑

It's not usual for Sukuna to fall ill.

However, when he does it’s like all the pathogens known to mankind have taken it upon themselves to infect him.

This time, it isn't so different after all.

Since the break of dawn Sukuna's been awake. Body twisted in an uncomfortable manner under the duvets, the dim flicker of the night lamp proves to be a companion in the otherwise solitary room.

"Fucking hell," He curses under his breath, shifting his position to ease the persistent ache that ripples through his body; his joints, for some reason, seems to have tightened itself to his bones. Slight movement proving to be difficult. While the air conditioner functions properly, a sheen of perspiration aglows his forehead—he swabs the moisture only to meet with another thin layer marring his skin, seconds later. He forces open an eye, trying to contemplate why your figure beside him does seems so fuzzy. No sooner, he can clear the mystery does a wave of shiver runs down his spine. "What the hell is this?"

The question leaves his lips, followed by strange churn of his stomach and on instinct he smacks his hand over his mouth.

The next minutes are blurred. Literally blurred for the brief time as if his body is set on auto-pilot, beckoning him to rise from the bed and walk to the bathroom.

As the expunging liquids leaves his throat and down the toilet does his distinct vision returns. Lips apart, he breaths in copious amount of air while the room seems to spin in a whirl. Once his senses have returned, he reached to flush down the contents only to halt.

Is that... blood?

.

"Temperature 101.6 °F and he threw up in the morning."

Sukuna would rather be anywhere but here.

Sitting in a doctor's cabin with you while the former wouldn't stop with his ridiculous questions. Inadvertently, he rests his scalp against the wall, a searing pain ripping from his chest every once in a while, causing him to jolt as if he's being electrocuted.

"Any other discomfort? Body ache or...?" Shinzo trails off, continuing with the physical examination of his patient.

In response, Sukuna shakes his head negatively. However, you take it upon yourself to be honest, "He does and he coughed through the whole drive."

"Not the whole—"

"Keep your mouth shut." Harshly you rebuke, shooting a scornful glare his way.

His lips curl down, on the verge to retaliate before the notion of it seems indolent. He's already been through a series of blood test and chest X rays since the last thirty minutes, exhausting him beyond relief; no need to add more to the list. Therefore, his mouth forms a thin line.

Shinzo hums, finishing with the check up as he returns to his seat across you. Scribbling down on the prescription, a knock sounds from the door and soon his assistant strides in with a number of reports. While the doctor reads through the files of his current patient, your hypertension manifests itself upon your being when your eyes find your boyfriend.

Awfully muted, his throat must have chipped while he threw up—reason to the unusual bleeding. Shoulders raised in a manner, tints of red stains his skin and the groans that escalates from him whenever he attempts to move just causes you to wince. You chew on your bottom lip, fiddling with the fabric of your jacket as the momentary silence in the room stretches. For too long that this might be the loudest silence, you’ve been in.

"Does he need to be hospitalized?"

"No—"

"I am not talking to you."

Sukuna clicks his tongue, just taking a mental note to give you an earful once all of this shit is over. It's so fucking funny. Oh, for heavens... he is perfectly fine. Well yeah, maybe some coughing fit but he can work through that for the day. No way did you call Kenjaku and call in sick for him. And he allowed that? Allowed you to drag you here as well? Alright, maybe he is sick.

Shinzo sets the files down, "Stage I Pneumonia," He concludes, straightening his posture and continues with the prescription. "No need for hospitalization but I am prescribing an antiviral— Tamiflu. Thirty minutes after breakfast, lunch and dinner for three days. Ibuprofen remains whenever he gets high fever and for the cough..." He pinches the bridge of his nose, ripping the sheet before passing it to you. "There's the Honiitus syrup, he can have 10 ml now. Rest, you know."

You nod, scanning the sheet in your grasp, irises halting on the specific medications. Craning your neck upto him, you ask, "Thank you and anything else?"

"Adequate rest and homemade food and he's good to go."

.

"Don't be difficult now, drink it."

"No."

Sukuna scowls at you and you scowl back. His eyes shifts to the tin medicine cup-cap in your hand filled with the amber coloured liquid which is supposed to heal his sore throat.

Currently, confined inside the four walls of his room, this place is 100 times better than that doctor's cabin and any hospital bed. He is sure just a whole day of sleep will make him back on his feet but you just have to be so... persistent.

"I am not asking, drink it." You extend your hand, bringing the liquid to his lips, only for him to turn his face away.

"And I said no," He spits back, eye twitching as he disregards your terse call. "Get that shit out of my face."

"This is for your own good, Sukuna. Stop acting like a child."

Sukuna only huffs in response, muttering a string of curses under his breath. No way is he letting you win this plus that thing in your hand smells disgusting.

“Absolutely not.”

You heave out loudly, "I don't want to force you."

That draws an almost amused chuckle out of him, he tilts his head—eyes shutting down and mouth clamping with a sound as another wave of nausea overrides him. Once composed, he reopens his eyes, challenge swirling in the crimson hues, "You think you can force me?"

“I don’t think so,” A mirthless smile curves into your own mien, you regard his dare with one of your own. "I know so."

"Sure."

"So are you going to be a good boy and drink it or do I need to make you?"

He scoffs, "Go on and try."

You pause for a second, bringing the cup down, gaze settled on him and for reasons unknown, Sukuna senses trouble. "Remember, you asked for it."

He shuts his eyes, rolling the irises behind the lids. You are just so funny sometimes. To think you can force him? Really? Even in this state, he can easily overpower you without even trying. Pick you up and throw you on the bed without any effort. But just for the jokes and laughs, he will let you get a head start.

In the reverie, he is when your warm palm grazes his jaw.

Here it comes.

Until it doesn't.

There's no hint of strength, no force, nothing as you let your palm trail over his skin. He opens his eyes and good lord's... You are close. Too close for his liking. Not that he is complaining. Of course. You can be closer if you want but wait– he is infected, right?

So you shouldn't be near him.

But it's like some hypnotism that's in play as he gazes into your eyes. With the added bonus of your soothing touch on his jaw, the pad of your thumb running on his lower lip—you pull down the flesh. He can see you more clearly than ever, from the slight furrow of your brows to the twitch of your lips and the light reflecting on your eyes.

It's clear.

So, so clear.

A heat spreads through his cheeks, mingling with the blood flowing in his veins and in seconds, his heart rate amplifies. Was it one of the side effects of Pneumonia? Shinzo obviously didn’t mention this but- fuck! You are here and the proximity only hitches the breath in his throat. Your rhythmic exhalation of air fans his skin and he swallows a lump.

Fuck!

He is truly sick.

You draw him in, "Open your mouth."

Before he can make sense of the situation, his body complies. Lips parting and soon you are pouring the medicine down his throat. He gulps, eyes still trained on you and yours on his.

You sit back on the bed and Sukuna blinks.

Wait– what just happened?

"That wasn't too hard now, was it?" You chuckle, pouring some water on the cup and swirl it.

"You– you tricked me."

"Oh? Did I?" Feigning innocence, you laugh again. "And what if I did? ...Oh, and don't make that face now, it doesn't taste that bad.”

“Taste it yourself then speak.”

“I am not the one who’s sick, you are” You muse, cleaning the cap and fastening the lid. He mutters an incoherent curse under his breath and you stand up. Straightening the duvet, you beckon him to lay down.

Something he does without any protest. However, his eyes flickers to the door for a brief second and now only, he is met with the yellowish eyes of a feline.

He raises an eyebrow, “What do you want?”

Kuro passes him a languid stare, his whiskers tremor once almost like its scowling. Only serving for the former’s vexation, the man waves him off without a thought. A low squeal is erupted from him and he is on the verge of pouncing of him when step in.

Picking up the cat, you bring it up to your face, “See Kuro, your papa is sick. So no trespassing here for a week.”

He blinks and answers you as though he understands what you mean.

You’re pretty sure he will try to barge in the second you leave but hey! What’s the problem to hold a little hope? Setting the cat down, you usher him out. Turning towards your boyfriend, you shoot him a heads up. One which he returns with a dismissive gesture.

“Get some rest in the meantime. I will be in the living room, just call if you need something.”

The lights dim out, curtain pulled over – creating the perfect atmosphere for an hour or more nap. Chirping of birds and the revving engines of cars from outside fades into background as comfort envelopes Sukuna amidst the sheets.

Despite it all, hollowness unfurls into his being.

The notion of silence returning again while he the room cloaks itself in darkness strikes an anonymous melancholy though his chest. A garter wraps around his neck, tightening with each passing second. And just like that the calm veneer crumbles into dust.

He pries an eye open and although the blackened room vanishes everything, its difficult to amiss your retreating figure. The haze increases, mouth sealed shut – he can’t speak. So, he extends an arm.

Wait-

The door closes shut.

.

He is walking through a mirage.

Surely, he has strolled through this area before. Once. Twice. Thrice. This is the fourth instance he is met with the same beige tinted cottages with scarlet thatched roofs.

He walks through the secluded lane across them.

Where is he going? He doesn’t know that. Just he is walking all alone. On his own. Just cause he has to.

Sky obscured with thick clouds, every once in a while does the thunder cracks. Lightening over the whole region. Sound so prominent, so daunting that it shakes the whole neighbourhood. For reasons, Sukuna finds an undulating spark tightening over his frame as every step forward becomes a struggle on its own. Down pouring heavily, the droplets causes his clothes to stick to his skin. Dripping down his ink stained countenance, clouding his vision. Breaths filled with raggedness, he wipes the moisture off- it isn’t removed.

He tries again and again and again.

Doesn’t work.

Nothing works.

How can anything ever work when-

Only a singular step he has taken and its like he is pushed off from a building.

Falling down, he doesn’t know what awaits him.

However, when he returns to his feet, the whole scenery has changed.

Instead of the murky countryside stretching with grasslands till the horizon, he is met with the picturesque view of a beach. Sparkling waves rises with all its glory, flaunting its sheer power before crashing on the sandy soil. Seagulls fly over the water bodies, their voice being a distinct reminder of this serenity. Murmurs of human life accompanied by distant tune from seaside eateries greet him. The gentle wisp of the sea breeze ruffles his hair, wafting sand into his eyes and nostrils; he doesn’t flinch.

When he looks around, everyone vanishes.

From the footprints on the soil to the sea castles to all the tourists. No one’s here.

The seclusion stalls on him only a second later. That’s when he realizes, everything’s truly gone.

The scorching sun blazes in fury, momentarily blinding him. Humidity persists in the air, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. The waves crash again and he walks towards it. For some unknown reason-this feels right.

What’s the point of continuing anymore?

The sand prickles under his feet as he staggers towards the water. Sky high waves flicker and dance, crashing onto him and even though the musky salt should cause him to recoil, the intensity should strike some agony – he feels nothing.

Paving his way through the water until the very liquid surrounds him. All of this, just seems so empty.

“Sukuna,”

As if broken out from a trance by the mere call of his name, he turns.

Once again the vast expanse of the world does everything shift.

“You’re holding yourself well,” Jin remarks, wiping some specks of soap water from a plate. “Better than I expected you to.”

Sukuna’s eyes drift to take in the surroundings; standing across the kitchen counter of his apartment. His brother indulges in cleaning some utensils, a forlorn lilt of his lips prompts the former to raise an eyebrow. The room remains quiet only broken by the usual cling of the cutlery. From his periphery, he could see his nephew crouched down before Kuro, the boy ruffles the feline’s hair and now the cat should retaliate. Until it doesn’t.

“Taking care of Kuro as well,” Jin stares down at the duo. “Give yourself some credit y’know.”

Wait- since when did his brother know about the cat? And since when did Yuji turn to silent?

Gazing out the window- his eyes widen.

When did his neighbourhood change so much?

Without any explanation, Sukuna marches out of the apartment.

Greeted by a hoard of stones situated all over the grassland. Each of different shapes, sizes and perhaps… something just might be written on it. He doesn’t wait to read. Why should he doesn’t have his reading glasses with him?

Feet squashing the lifeless grasses, the leaves don’t crunch under his boots. His steps are steady, turning round a corner or more whenever he so pleases. Maybe this is the way out of the labyrinth of stones.

However, he halts before a particular stone.

For reasons unknown, Sukuna feels life slipping out of his fingers.

.

Sukuna wakes up with a jolt.

Eyes wide open, he breaths in through his mouth. Fingers trembling with the surge of adrenaline as his shoulders rise and fall in a cadence. Think coat of sweat mars his whole body, vest clinging to him like a second skin and the duvets covering his form renders him panting fit.

What was that? The beach? His brother? Those stones?

What- what was happening?

The eerie maze where he walked? Ran?

Wait- what occurred?

The ceiling lights blinds him with all the intensity, he shuts his eyelids, grunting out like a wounded animal. Some external voice rings out, too loud, too disturbing that he’s forced to press his palm over his ears. Touches guide his skin from his cheek to shoulders and a burst of repulsion compels him to push the person away.

Who the hell was it to hold him like that?

He’s got a girlfriend for fuck’s sake. Get the hell away from him.

However, instead of leaving him alone they are inching closer. He is met with the same touch again but the noise starts to clear as well.

“…Just a dream, you’re fine...”

Albeit begrudgingly, Sukuna removes his hand from his ears.

“…You’re home, calm down…”

It’s a gamble but he manages to reopen his eyes.

“Are you ok? What happened?”

Sukuna blinks, stupefied for the second.

There you are, standing before him while cupping his face in your little palms. Thumb running circles over the tattoos on his face, irises pooling with sheer concern, your eyes are solely focused on a subject. That subject being him.

He looks around.

Notably, nothing has changed. He is still in his bedroom, sitting on the bed with the comforter pooled around his hips. From the traces of light pouring from the ajar window, he can make out how the light fades to dark as twilight tints the skies in hues of violet and blue.

“Hey,” You tap his cheek, urging him to face you, “Why aren’t you speaking?”

He only responds with long stare.

“Sore throat? Should I bring honiitus again?”

“Don’t even think about it, woman.” He barks, lips curling down in utter disgust as the very prominent taste of the damn syrup lingers in the back of his mouth.

Without making a fuss about his sudden outburst, you place your backhand over his forehead. “Mhm… you don’t seem to have fever.” You nod, “No ibuprofen, then.”

“Fucking finally.”

“Don’t celebrate too early,” You snort, a mirthful smile creeping onto you, “Tamiflu after lunch, remember?”

“Well genius, I didn’t have lunch.”

You snap your fingers, “I know, and there it is,” You point to a tray stacked with a lidded container resting on top of the nightstand.

He stares at it for a second too long, “What’s that?”

“Boiled vegetables and… no–” You flick your index finger in the air, a clear negative sign. “No more tantrums, you’ll shut up and eat.”

“As if,” He scoffs, twisting his body away from the utensil, he faces the wall as if the blank canvas seems more interesting than the food you cooked.

You sigh, sitting down on the limited space provided for you on the bed across him, “Just because I call you baby doesn’t mean you have to act like one.”

“I am not enacting–  no, just– fuck,”  He curses under his breath, fumbling with the words too many times before he reaches a conclusion. “I am not acting like a god damn child.”

“Sure.” His eyes narrows down while he regards you. You stretch your arms, the joints cracking under the evident tension, “I added a few pieces of meat for taste, just so you know.”

He raises an eyebrow, retorts accumulating in his mouth. Just a second away from being unleashed before his gaze lands on a bowl and a pack of damp towels. “What happened with that?”

“What?”

“That.”

You glance at the way he points, taking a moment to contemplate before you answer, “I called Dr. Shinzo again, he said applying cold water towels will help with the fever so…”

Sukuna doesn’t know why, but he stills. “You were doing that all this time?”

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

You tilt your head, “Maybe cause you need it?” He blinks and you find your patience wearing thin. Dismissing the confusion clouding his visage, you reach for the tray and pick it up. The clattering of the utensils due to your unstable balance rings through the whole room. “See, this won’t be that bad. Besides, it’s only for a few days, you can manage, right?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Aw c’mon, now,” You unfasten the lid, dipping the spoon. “I will feed you as compensation. How does that sound?”

He still doesn’t answer but with the way he doesn’t protest your offer, he hopes to let you know his affirmation.

.

Sukuna refuses to let you know that the boiled vegetable soup isn’t as bad as he thought.

.

Two days later

.

Credits to his above average immunity or whatsever but Sukuna is almost back to complete health in just a span of few days.

Finally.

Done he is with all the ibuprofen and every other shit he has to endure.

Never again.

As a ritual, only does the lunchtime ends with the empty hot pot of boiled vegetables being lidded back does Sukuna notice the uncharacteristic clattering of the utensils as you try to hold them in place.

“Give me that.”

Before you can reply, the tray is already being grabbed by your boyfriend as he sets it down on the nightstand.

“That needs to be in the kitchen.”

 Instead of gracing you with a proper answer, you are met with his crimson hues filled with something you can’t quite put a finger on. He urges you to sit with him and you comply. Feeling the need to for some reason.

“What?” You ask. His eyes darts down, following his gaze, confusion clouds your head for he is looking at your hands. “Huh?”

No sooner does the word leave your mouth than he grasps both of your hands on his own. You gasp yet don’t try to pull away.

Sukuna traces his thumb over the ridge of your knuckles to the tips of your nails. Turning them around, he draws every single contour lines on your palm as if he’s etching them onto his memory. It’s not the first time, he is holding your hand but it’s the first time he is noticing all the details. Like how a tiny callous has formed beside the edge of your thumb or how the tiny scar runs down the side of your ring finger.

His grasp tightens over yours, nothing to make it hurt. He would never.

He brings them up, pressing his lips over each and every, societally deemed, imperfection. At last, he turns to your backhand. This time, keeping his gaze stilled on you, he kisses your knuckles.

Perhaps, he’d have kissed you too but he doesn’t want the infection to pass.

Perhaps, you’ll know someday that… he is grateful.

Taglist: @comeonatmebruh @sweetpo1son @malazloje @tadabzzzbee @o-ikawaii

[deedeeznoots]

The Deep Woods

➺ Update: If you enjoy this story, please feel free to also read some extra headcanons that delve into your life with Sukuna in the woods during the story as well as after the story takes place!

➺ Characters: Ryomen Sukuna, Fem!Reader 

➺ Word Count: 9.6k

➺ Genre: Slow Burn, Smut, Fluff

➺ Content: Fairy Tale!AU, True Form!Sukuna, Princess!Reader, MDNI, Arranged Marriage (not to Sukuna), Abusive Family (not super heavy though just average royal family bullshit), Swearing, Double Packed Sukuna, Oral (M!Recieving), Teasing, Begging, PiV, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Stomach Mouth used so Oral (Fem!Recieving), Reader Stabs Someone

➺ A/N: This is the perfect time to confess that the reason I started watching JJK was because of all the Disney Princess ships that were going around and I'm not ashamed at all, those ships were unironically cute. 

➺ Synopsis:  Far beyond the kingdom walls in the darkest parts of the forest, there’s said to be a monstrous beast with two faces and four arms. As the only princess in the kingdom, you ignore these rumors and explore among the trees anyways. Unfortunately, it seems curiosity got the best of you, and you come face to face with this exact beast. Though… after meeting him, you begin to question who the true monsters of the kingdom actually are. 

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

Your footsteps can be heard echoing throughout the castle walls as you walk on the decorated marble floor. You take a moment to take in your surroundings. Beautiful pieces of art and architecture surround you as you walk through the place you call home. Despite living in the castle your whole life, you always found something new when you walked around. This time, you notice the tiny angels at the top of the pillars, seemingly staring down at you. Were those always there? You thought. It didn’t matter, but it was interesting to take note of. You had to take note of these things if you didn’t want to go insane. It was a good thing the castle was so large and had all of these tiny details, otherwise you would have put up more of a fight to leave than you already do. Sometimes though, you just wished your company wasn’t so terrible.

Taking a deep breath, you open the heavy doors leading to the dinner room. There, you’re met with two awfully familiar faces. 

“Father… Mother…” you say softly, bowing as you enter the room.

“You’re late” your mother curtly states. You look down half-apologetically, “I’m sorry” you mumble. 

She isn’t finished. “Your hair is disheveled as well, did you think this was the proper way to greet us?”. Of course, you haven’t seen either of your parents for the entire day, and during the small window of time when you did see each other, it’s surrounded with criticism. If it wasn’t your hair, it was your clothing, and if not that, it was the way you walked or talked. You’d be more angry about it if you weren’t so used to it. Nowadays, you simply pull up a chair at the comically large dining table where your family sat and quietly eat your food. Your father–the King– would follow suit. Either looking down at his food, or around the castle, or speaking with your mother. He did everything but look you in the eyes. In some ways he was worse than your mother. At least your mother criticized things in your control. Yet, your father’s distaste of you seemed to stem from nothing more than the cardinal sin you committed of being a woman. Your parents have no other children, so it seemed that your very existence continued to be a reminder of their failures– no, your failure to bring an heir to the throne. 

You finish eating your food, but it’s not over yet, because unlike previous dinners, you were on a mission this evening. Setting down your fork to grab their attention, you look at them both and ask “I’d like permission to go to the village”. 

Both of your parents simply stood in silence before laughing. In fact, this was probably the happiest you’ve seen them. “Oh please, what could you possibly get from the village?” your mother questions you, still with a stupid smile on her face. Trying to hide your offense, you straighten your back “I’d just like to see what’s outside of this castle”. 

Realizing you’re serious, your parents stop their laughs, and their faces contort into one of anger. “Don’t put such things in your head,” your mother says “There’s nothing outside of this castle that is of interest to you, a different Princess would already know that”. What she really means is a better Princess would know that. You already knew that they probably wouldn’t agree, but you were unable to stop yourself from wanting to put up a fight anyways. Irritated, you stood up from your chair “Please just– let me see what’s out there, one hour tops, and I’ll never ask again”. 

In anger, your mother abruptly stood up as well and said “Absolutely not. Who knows what the people may do if they find a Princess near their filthy surroundings. Especially those peasant men who could–” 

“You know what. Never mind” you begin to walk away, turning your back on your mother. She didn’t like this very much, “How dare you turn your back on the Queen! Come back here you damn woman” she yells out, but you’re already at the door. You push the door open and slam it closed behind you as you make it outside the dining room. There, you find your Lady in Waiting next to the door, listening into the conversation. Realizing that you caught her, she stood in stock. You simply looked at her before scoffing and turning away to go back to your room, and she scurried trying to follow behind you. 

As you two are walking, she begins to speak up. “You know Princess, maybe it’s for the best that you don’t go outside” she takes a short breath, tired from having to chase after you. “There really isn’t anything in the village that would be of interest to a noblewoman such as yourself” she laughs, but you simply ignore her and keep moving, walking even faster this time, to her dismay. She wasn’t getting to you, but she kept trying anyway, “Also…I’ve heard about a beast roaming the forest near the village. The people say he’s almost 9 feet tall, and has four arms! Isn’t that terrifying?” Now that made you stop, and you turned around to look at her. Yes! She thought, had she gotten through to you? 

“Don’t be stupid” is all you say before you make it to your room and abruptly close the door, leaving her outside. 

In your room, you peek through the large window showing the outside world. There, you’re also able to see the forest that covers the perimeter of the Kingdom. A 9 foot tall beast huh? You thought, oh to be able to see that. Maybe it was stupid to wish for such a thing, but you would be willing to see anything so long as it was outside the castle. You weren’t blind to your privilege, of course it probably wasn’t going to be the stellar experience you expected, but at least you would know, that would be more than enough for you. 

Still, it didn’t matter what you thought because you probably would be staying in this same castle every day for your entire life regardless of your thoughts about it. Turning back to look outside one last time, you walk to your bed and flop down, dozing off to sleep. 

The morning rays of sun stir you awake and nearly blind you as you open your eyes. Somewhat groggy, you slowly get washed and dressed as you make your way to the garden for breakfast. The gardens were the closest to the outside world you could ever get, and as such they quickly became your favorite place to spend your day. You say hello to some of the gardeners as you make your way to the gazebo where your breakfast is already prepared. Your mouth waters as you see the combination of scones and fruit laid out for your breakfast. You get lost in thought as you eat, thinking about how you’ll spend your time for the day.

Your thoughts get disturbed when your Lady in Waiting comes to greet you. You look at her, about to apologize for your behavior last night when she begins to speak “Your Highness,” she lightly bows, “The King and Queen have asked to meet you after breakfast, they say it’s important”. As she raises her head, you ask her what it might be about. Your parents didn’t usually ask to meet with you outside of dinner. You thought for a moment, hopefully this wasn’t about what happened last night. When she tells you that she isn’t sure what the meeting is for, you simply nod and tell her you’ll be there soon. 

Once she leaves, you finish up breakfast and make your way to the throne room. This was the place your parents spent most of their time, and where they held their endless gatherings and meetings. As such, you made it a point to avoid the place outside of times where they specifically ask for you such as this one. 

When you make it inside the throne room, you walk to your parents and give them a bow “Your Majesties” you say, greeting them. Your parents don’t waste any time, and get right to the chase. “We have good news” your father starts. “You’re to be married” he says, gleeful, you on the other hand were anything but. Slowly standing up from your kneeling position, you utter a small “What?”, not fully comprehending what’s coming out of his mouth. “It really should have happened before” your mother begins, “You have been more than old enough for a long time” she scoffs. “Wait!” you yell out suddenly, “I’m not getting married” you say, mostly out of shock at the revelation. 

Your mother sighs, not hiding her disappointment. “How many times do we have to say that it’s your royal duty to provide this family with an heir” she lectures. You simply look down. Damn it, you think, you really didn’t want to do this, but you suppose you had no choice, so you ask, “Who is it?”. This confuses your parents and they look to each other in confusion, so you clarify, “Who am I getting married to”. The fact that you have shown the signs of being willing (or at the very least, compliant), nearly makes your mother jump up with glee. Your father says “This young Prince in the neighboring Kingdom, his father has lots of good things to say–”

“What about you guys?” you ask. It wasn’t that you particularly trusted their judgment, but you trusted them more than some other King who most definitely had a conflict of interest, “What do you guys think of him?”. This makes your parents pause for a moment before your mother goes, “Well… we haven’t quite met him yet”. 

Now, you weren’t very particular about who you were going to marry. You knew it was going to come eventually due to the nature of your family, but this made you angry. To not even know who they were marrying you off to? Have they truly stooped to this kind of stupidity? “So you don’t even know who he is and you want me to marry him?” you question, now somewhat aggressively. 

“We can take care of all that later my dear–” your mother starts again, but you aren’t having any of it “No! Getting married to someone I don’t know is bad enough but someone you guys don’t even know? That’s just absurd!” you yell out, which makes your father angry. “What’s absurd is not having an heir to the throne!” he yells out, his voice booming throughout the throne room. “You are to be married to this man regardless of your personal feelings on the matter” he yells out again. You can’t look at him. You can’t look at either of them. Your brain is starting to hurt and you can’t do anything. So you take one last look at them before silently leaving the throne room. 

Making it back to your bedroom, you spend the rest of the day looking out your window, watching as the sun sets and the moon shows its full glory. Thankfully, no one bothers you for the rest of the day, but you still have a pounding headache from the conversation. Various thoughts fill your head, from I can’t believe they would do this to I don’t think marriage would be that bad, right? All the way back to I shouldn’t even have to question whether it would be bad or not. You eventually decide that you need to clear your head and get some fresh air. Fresh air outside of this damn castle.

Looking out the window, your eyes focus on the forest ahead. The luscious green leaves sway from side to side as you look out at them, as if to call you towards them. Surely, it would be nice to walk through those woods. 

What? No! That’s a stupid decision, you could get lost. Or worse, killed.

…

Well… dead people can’t get married off to strangers.

That thought in mind, you grab a cloak from your closet and open up your window. The cold breeze of the night hits your face as you look out toward the forest, toward freedom… at least for a little while, that is. The only issue that stands in your way is how to get down. Looking down at the ground from your window, you definitely wouldn’t be able to jump without dying or getting injured. Not liking either of those options, you look around your room for anything that might help when you eye a pile of blankets in the corner of your room. Perfect. 

Man, these blankets are long as hell you think as you tie the pieces of fabric together. Once you finish, you securely tie one end to your bed frame and bring the other end out the window. The end of the makeshift rope hits the floor, and you have a mini celebration of your success. 

Feet hitting the ground, you’re able to slip past the guards and make your way out of the castle walls. You aren’t scared, far from it. For the first time in your life, you’re free. You’re giddy for a while and that joy only grows as you get further and further away from the castle. You’re finally able to take a breath, even if only for a mere few hours in the night.

There are no lights in the forest, and you didn’t bring a candle with you, so you only had the full moon to guide you. This was alright though, and you bathed in the moonlight for a while, being at peace. 

Your head is finally clear, and you’re able to stay in meditative thought as you walk through the woods.

Then, you hear a growl. 

You snap out of your thoughts and turn to the direction where the growl was heard. 

You hear another growl behind you. 

Then another. 

It’s a pack of wolves. 

And they’re surrounding you. 

You’re able to see their faces as they step into the moonlight out of the shadows. Their hungry eyes showing you that they do not intend to free you. The beasts give you no path of escape as they inch closer and closer to you. You had no other choice, you were going to be their dinner. Knowing your situation, you simply crouch down and close your eyes. Hopefully, it’ll be a quick death you think as you hear their excited growls and howls around you. 

One of the wolves prepares to lunge at you, but just as it’s about to, another force tackles the animal. 

“Huh?” you audibly say as you slowly open your eyes. When you look around yourself again, there are no more wolves to be seen, all of them taken away by a mysterious force. You are frozen in place. What in the world just happened? 

You can’t think for long though, as you realize…You sense someone else’s presence. 

You slowly turn around to find a large beast in the distance. No, that’s no beast, that’s a man. Except… Why does he have four arms? 

You think back to your conversation with your Lady in Waiting the other day. 

Shit. 

He’s slowly inching toward you. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

The better part of your brain knows to run, but you remain crouched and unmoving, frozen in fear. Eventually, he stands in front of you, looking down at your small form. 

They say he’s 9 feet, huh? You weren’t fully sure if that was correct, but he definitely looked like it from the way he was hovering above you. 

This feeling. It’s pure fear. You weren’t even this afraid when surrounded by the wolves, whom you were fully expecting to eat you. But this, you aren’t even able to breathe. Hell, you can’t breathe, you don’t know what’s come over you. He did save you, right? Maybe he isn’t so dangerous. Though, maybe he’s simply saving you for himself.

The clouds in the sky that were previously covering the moon now moved past, allowing the moonlight to shine on the man’s face, and you’re able to see four bright red eyes looking down at you. 

Not knowing what else to say, you just scream out “P-Please! Please don’t hurt me!”. It was different with the wolves, they wouldn’t have stopped no matter what you said. With this though… Was he more man than beast? Maybe he understood language? You were going to take all your chances, so you continued begging for your life. 

He seemed to have no reaction to your qualms, and simply slowly raised up his hand, getting ready to strike you. He took his time, as if you were so small that he didn’t even need to fully put in any effort to try to catch you. You didn’t give up, you continued to beg for your life until the last moment, hoping to get through to him. You kept on screaming. Kept on begging for your life until the very last moment when he swiftly brought his hand down to your face and–

You knocked out. 

“Princess! Oh Dear– Princess!” 

The voice of your Lady in Waiting wakes you up. Your head is throbbing with pain, and her frantic tone certainly wasn’t helping. 

“Huh?” you groan, you feel the grass from under you, you’re in front of the castle. You begin to slowly remember the events of the night before. Right… you left the castle, but how’d you get back here?

You suddenly remember the wolves and that man that saved you. You begin to frantically look around. Did he bring you back? 

Your Lady in Waiting makes it to you and begins to help you up. She decides to ask “Why are you on the floor?”. She’s picking the stray pieces of grass off of your hair and as you’re about to explain what happened, you realize how incriminating against you the story was. So, you simply tell her, “I’m not sure…”. 

Thankfully, she doesn’t question you any further, and simply goes “Let’s go give you a bath” as she takes your hand and leads you inside the castle. You turn around for a moment and look toward the forest. What the hell happened? 

The hot bath was more than needed to help clean off the dirt on your skin. The steam also helped to relax you as you organized your thoughts. You remember the four-armed man, and his bright red eyes. You think about how he saved you from death. You sounded ridiculous. Was that… a dream? You thought. No… it couldn’t be, it felt too real to merely be a dream. Though, if that was true, why did he save you from the wolves, and why did he bring you back to the castle? Ignoring all that, a man of that kind of build is something out of children’s books. 

It was going to bug you for the rest of your days, you had to go back to find out what on Earth happened last night. It would just be a short trip to confirm, you remembered most of your steps from that night. Plus, it was broad daylight now, surely there would be no predators roaming around.

If anyone heard you, it would sound like you had a death wish. Hell, you probably did… but there was something calling you to go back to investigate that man, and you’d be damned if you didn’t listen. 

Letting the water drip down your body as you leave the tub, you dry yourself off with a towel and pick out a dress. You went for something simple, as you needed to be able to move in case the worse happens and you get attacked by another animal. Or worse, if your new “friend” turned out to not be so friendly after all. 

You’re able to sneak your way through the guards again, and it was actually much easier this time. Turns out, your parents were away from the castle, meaning not as many guards stuck around to keep watch. 

“If I knew it was going to be this easy to leave, I would have snuck out before” You thought out loud in a quiet whisper. 

You find your way back to the forest and try your best to follow the path you remember going on the night before. You walk for a while before you see something of interest. 

Red blood stains paint the dirt coupled with scratch marks, no doubt from wolves. You look around your surroundings. While brighter now, they definitely looked familiar. There was no doubt, this was the place where your life nearly ended. 

So it wasn’t a dream. In your heart you already knew that, of course, the extra confirmation definitely helped. 

You think about your savior. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to look for him, right? You look around once again, as if he would be standing in the same spot. You start to walk down the path further into the forest. You should be able to run into him eventually, right? Wait, why were you even looking for him? 

Against your better judgment, you call out to the stranger, “Um… excuse me sir but I just wanted to thank you for saving me last night”. Nothing. “If you can hear me please come out, I promise I mean peace”. Still nothing. 

After what felt like walking for hours, you nearly give up and decide to cut your losses and go home. That is, until you see a stone figure in the distance. Looking closer, you realize it’s a well. Curious, you walk towards it. Your fingers touch the rough stone of the abandoned well, and you wonder about the last time it was used. You decide to sit for a while and ponder near the spot. You think again about your marriage, and slowly begin to accept the reality of the situation. Hopefully, in the best case scenario, the Prince isn’t so bad. Hell, you’d accept halfway bearable. At least now, you know that when times get rough you’re able to go to the forest to think. 

You ponder a bit more and as you look down at the well, various things cross your mind. Whether they were good or bad, it didn’t matter to you. You were simply allowing your mind to roam wherever it saw fit. You were officially lost in thought. In fact, you were so lost in thought, that you didn’t even notice the giant form standing just behind you…

“Are you stupid?” You hear a gruff voice coming from behind you. 

Shocked, you forget that you’re near a well and jump up, screaming whilst you flail your arms out. This causes you to lose your balance and you fall into the well, causing you to scream even louder. You brace for your fall but it never comes. Instead, you find yourself caught between four large arms. 

“‘Tch, idiot” you hear, though you’re just glad that you’re alive. You’re brought back down to the glorious land, and you’re able to look up at the man in front of you. Looking at him, you see the obvious signs of your previous savior. The iconic four arms and four bright red eyes. Though, now that he’s in broad daylight, you notice some more things. Like the markings on his arms, his slicked back pink hair and a large mouth directly where his stomach is. Forget about children’s books, this man was unequivocally a monster. Though, you couldn’t help but think about how handsome he looked despite this. A stoic expression painted his face, despite showing clear annoyance toward your antics. Yes, handsome was the word to describe him. 

“Don’t stare. It’s weird” he says.

Then again, maybe you simply haven’t met many men. 

You’re about to respond with a comment of your own, when you feel a sharp sting on your leg. Wincing, you look down and you see blood trickling down your thigh. You must have gotten scratched while falling down the well. 

“Ow…” you say quietly, lifting up your dress. The man heard your pains, but didn’t pay it much mind. Rolling his eyes, he simply turned around to another side of the woods and said “You’ll live”. 

“Wait!” you reach out, grabbing at his clothes. This annoyed the man and he attempted to pull your hand away, you don’t budge though. “It hurts!” you yell out at him. He continues to try to get your hand off of him, and he yells out, “Not my problem!”. Finally, he’s free from your hand and pushes you away, causing you to fall backwards. “Owww…” you say, again. Today was certainly not your lucky day.

He’s about to walk away from you when he turns around for a second. Looking at you, he saw your pathetic display, covered in dirt, crouching down afraid to touch your minor cut. It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad. Groaning, he walks toward you and picks you up, easily carrying you over his shoulder. “Hey what are you–” 

“Quiet.” he says, “Don’t make me regret this, brat”. You do as he says. You weren’t afraid of him anymore. How could you be? If he wanted to kill you, he had several chances to do so. Hell, there were multiple instances when nature nearly did the job for him. So you decide to trust him as he carries you through an unknown part of the forest. 

He places you down inside an open cave. Based on the various items around, you assume it’s where he lives. You look around and see makeshift weapons and pieces of cloth sprawled about in the area. It definitely could be better, but it was pretty good for someone who lived in the wild. 

You see him as he takes one of the clean pieces of cloth and pats it on your leg. It stung like hell every time he padded the white cloth onto your skin, but he didn’t seem to care much about your tiny reactions. After a bit you both settle into a quiet, almost intimate feeling as he caresses your thigh, trying to clean the blood off your leg. You were used to getting taken care of, but this, this felt different. 

You take your chance to speak. “Thank you, again…” you say. 

He doesn’t say anything back, only muttering a soft “Whatever” to himself as he continues patting the area.

You continue to try to initiate small talk, saying things like “So… this is your house, how nice” and “The woods are lovely aren’t they?”. This doesn’t earn much of a reaction from him, and it seems that the small smidge of a reaction that you do see, is one of annoyance. You decide to give up, but not before asking him one more question. 

“What’s your name?” you ask. 

He stops for a bit, hesitating, and you assume that he won’t answer, when he says “Ryomen”. 

Pleasantly surprised that he actually answered you, you excitedly ask “Ryomen what?” with a smile. 

He gives a short groan in annoyance and mumbles “Ryomen Sukuna” as he rolls his eyes, still trying to focus on padding down your wound. You no longer mind the pain, instead you’re happy that you’re able to get him to open up. 

“That’s a nice name” you compliment him, and he just gives a low hum in response. 

He finishes patching you up and begins to walk away as he stands, “You’re a big girl, now scram” he tries to be intimidating, though it no longer works on you. You thank him profusely and it seems to do nothing but make him more annoyed as he focuses on anything else but you. 

“Oh I have one more question!” you say as you stand up from your spot. 

“‘Course you do…” he says, you take this as an invitation to keep talking, and you ask him the one question that’s been bugging your mind, “How did you know I lived in the castle?” 

He simply looked at you and gave you a blank stare and said, “You’re asking me that when you go out dressed like… that? It’s obvious”. He looks you up and down as he says the words, causing you to look down at your choice of wear. Oh yeah… of course, you couldn’t hide it if you tried. Though, it at least helped bring you home. Getting your answer, you simply walk away, not wanting to press him further. 

His peace doesn’t last long, however, as you come back. Then, you come back again, and again, and again. 

It started with you bringing a basket of food to him. Something simple, such as some fruits. “I wanted to give you this to thank you for all you’ve done” you said. When you offered him the basket he took the food and left, planning to leave you alone. He didn’t even say a word to you, let alone a thank you. Somewhat offended, you yelled out a “Wait!”, which caused him to turn around. “I thought… we would be eating together” you said, looking down at the floor.

He stopped for a moment before sitting down, grumbling as he took an apple and bit on it. Well… bit is an understatement, he absolutely ravaged the apple, leaving not even the core. 

“You… you eat the core?” you ask him, genuinely concerned for what it might do to his health. 

He just looked at you, chewing on a seed, and said “I don’t waste food” before going back to abusing the rest of the fruits on the basket, all while you stay content with your single bunch of grapes. 

Outside of that short conversation, you two don’t speak to each other. When he finished eating, Sukuna got up and left, not even uttering a single goodbye. However, this was far from the last time you two spoke. 

Every day, you brought him food from the castle. Every day, you insisted that he sit with you to eat it. You weren’t exactly sure why you did all this, maybe it was an excuse to get away from the castle, or maybe you were simply intrigued by the man you visited. You two hardly ever spoke at first, how could you? Sukuna hated your presence, not for any particular reason, he just wasn’t very fond of humans. However, he loved food more than he hated you, so he never complained and was never outright malicious. 

One time though, after a few weeks of you two meeting, he snapped and said, “Stop coming here, brat”. You looked up at him, the bread you brought in hand, and gave him a simple “No”. This response caused him to growl under his teeth, but he didn’t push it. He didn’t want to admit it, but he started to enjoy being around you. It sucked being alone, and most people didn’t want to go near him. Plus, the small number of people who were brave enough to face him were in it to kill him, so he was willing to accept having you around, as simple minded as you were. Finishing the food, he got up as usual, except this time he said “You’re lucky this food is good”, before walking away. 

That small interaction seemed to open the doors for you two to get closer. Eventually, you two began speaking as you ate. Mostly small talk, sometimes you’d touch on your arranged marriage, but it was a topic you wanted to avoid as much as possible. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind brushing over it. 

Even after you two ate, you continued to speak to each other. Mostly walking around the forest, you would ask him about the various plants and wildlife. Something that he seemed highly knowledgeable about, always diligently explaining everything around the forest to you. 

You two sometimes met at night as well. You would steal some food from dinner (something that allowed you to actually look forward to the occasion) and bring it for the two of you to have. While eating, you would look up at the stars together, basking in the light they give off. 

“I can feel you staring at me” you say, looking at him through the side of your eye. He doesn’t let up, in fact, he grows more confident, turning his entire body around to face you. “Sorry, I just couldn’t help but notice something about your face”. You turn around to face him, curious about what he might say. “I swear to God if you say something stupid I will personally poke one of your eyes out–” 

“Your eyes shine more than the stars do,” he cuts you off. You look at him, his face is as calm as it usually is, he’s serious. You aren’t sure what to say, and you stutter around your words, until you hear a hearty laugh and Sukuna’s face scrunched up in a chuckle “Oh man– I can’t believe that corny ass line got you… you really do need to go outside more” he says as he laughs some more, crossing his four arms over his head. Your face is flushed and red from embarrassment and you tackle the man “Ryomen Sukuna!” you yell out, “That’s it, I’m poking your eyes out!”. Sukuna is able to fight you off with his superior strength, and when your embarrassment cools down, you’re able to have a bit of a laugh as well. 

“Well lookie here…” Sukuna says, looking down at you as you struggle being tangled up between some long plants. “Ain’t this a sight to see… so early in the morning too” he chuckles. The food you brought him for the day now on the floor, you continue struggling before you yell out “Ryomen stop staring like a weirdo and come help me!”. He laughs again and goes “I don’t know… there’s no more food so I can just leave you here” he pretends to turn around to leave you. You know he isn’t being fully serious, but in frustration you swing around and begin yelling his name some more. “Okay fine, fine…” he says, as he cuts the plants with his nails “Waitwaitwaitwait—” is all you say before you fall to the floor. It wasn’t a huge fall, but it was enough to hurt. “Ow…” you say, your arms absorbing most of the fall, and thus, most of the pain. Sukuna keeps laughing, “Oops…Hahahaha” he smiles as you stare daggers at him. 

You’re able to get up on your own and pat most of the dirt away. “You know man I’m not really in the mood today” you say as you try your best to look a little more proper. “Oh? What’s wrong?” he asks, still half-joking based on his tone. Still, you answer seriously “I’m meeting my husband today… my family’s holding some stupid party”. You say it like it isn’t a big deal, but Sukuna can read in your face that the thought seriously upsets you, so he lightens up a bit. 

He pats you on the head with one of his hands and goes “Come on… it’s about time I give you some food, yeah? Let’s go hunting”. He begins running, slow enough for you to follow, but fast enough for you to have to catch up with him. You mindlessly follow him before going “Wait… hunting? Wait, I don't wanna– RYOMEN!”. 

Ballroom music plays as you stand amongst the crowd of people, trying your best to keep up appearances. This was technically your engagement party, but with how far you and your future husband seem to be from each other, no one would be able to guess. That, and your “fiancé” flirting with every woman he could lay his eyes upon. Every woman but you, of course. You didn’t miss the way his face dropped the moment he laid his eyes on you. You didn’t mind this, as you weren’t too pleased with his appearance either. Still, the least he could do is suck it up and take it for the day the way you were expected to. Alas, it seems his favorite course of action for the night was to humiliate you by having a public display of his flirtation before you two are even married.

You try to use this to your advantage, “Look at him, mother…” you say to the woman standing next to you, she’s giving out her brightest and fakest smiles to all the guests “You can’t possibly expect me to marry him” you tell her. “You can and will…” your mother says through smiling teeth, she isn’t done though, she never is “If you took better care of yourself, maybe his behavior would be different” she drops her act for a moment, before going back to greeting guests. 

You let out a sigh of sadness and anger, everything felt horrible. Suddenly, the dress you’re wearing is a tad too tight, the music feels a bit too loud, and there’s too many people. Your mother’s comments as she watches your future husband embarrass you doesn’t help either. You need to leave, and you need to leave fast. You somehow find a way to slip out of the party without many people noticing and try to make your way to the only place you felt safe– the forest. 

You somehow make it to Sukuna’s resting spot despite the way you’re dressed. Your feet have blisters all over from your shoes but that doesn’t matter. You’re finally safe here… 

Sukuna immediately notices you and is prepared with a joke, “Woah who let the–”

“Shut up” you cut him off. You knew his comments were mostly in pure fun, and you enjoyed them for the most part, but today was not one of those times. 

Sukuna understood this, and simmered down. “Bad day?” he asks, though he already knew the answer. 

Tears stinging your eyes, you simply look down at the floor and nod. Sukuna pats down a spot next to him and goes “Tell me about it”. 

You take the invitation, and tell him all about your woes. The full story of your forced marriage, the pressure to have an heir, the humiliation you felt as you saw the man you were publicly marrying flirt with as many women as he could right in front of everyone. You were like a river on a broken dam. 

Sukuna didn’t say anything until you were finished, and even once you were, all he said was “Man, what assholes”. It seemed like a mindless comment, but to hear someone else finally say it was enough for you. You two sat in silence for a while before Sukuna looked at you and went “You don’t deserve any of that, I’m sorry”. He was actually fully serious for once. You two locked eyes for a while, not saying a word. You took a while to study his face. You realized this while first meeting him, but it really hit you now. His ever calming facial expressions, the way his eyes looked at you, the way his hair was perfectly slicked back, it was without a doubt, he was devilishly handsome. 

You kissed him. You weren’t sure why. Maybe it was frustration from this terrible day and you weren’t thinking straight, or maybe, just maybe, it was something more. Sukuna seemed shocked from the sudden kiss, but he held no complaints as he kissed you back. Opening your mouth, both your tongues intertwined for some time… a long time, before both of you pulled back for air, with only the string of saliva connecting your two lips serving as proof of what you did. 

Forget not thinking straight, this was the clearest your mind had been for a while. You reach your hand out toward his groin, he knew what you were trying to ask him… but still, you go “Please?” as you rub him through the thin cloth. He’s hard. 

Thankfully, he keep you waiting, and he stood up as you got on your knees. Before he let you pull down his clothing though, he said “Don’t be too shocked at what you see, alright?”. You simply nod, not understanding what he meant at first. However, pulling down his thin robes, you came face to face with exactly what he meant as two, almost comically large, penises slap against your face. You stare at him wide-eyed for a moment before you fully digest what’s in front of you. It should’ve been obvious, really. He had twice as many of almost every feature on his body, why wouldn’t he have two cocks?

Fully composed now, you take your tongue and drag it across his bottom shaft, licking all the way up to the tip of his dick. You try your best to suck as far down as possible while also jerking off his top shaft to keep your attention at both. Sukuna seemed pretty happy with this treatment, as you hear various moans and groans from the man standing above you. You try your best to interchange your mouth between his two cocks, trying to find just the right spots for his pleasure. You’re able to get his cock even deeper down your throat with Sukuna’s help, as he brings his hand to your head and begins fucking your mouth.

“D-Damn… Hah… You learn this in the castle?” he laughs in between his moans. You glare up at him, though all you can really do is give him an angry groan with his dick stuffing your mouth. This doesn’t deter him however, as he feels your mouth’s vibrations throughout his cock. Still, he sees your angry face as you suck him off, so he smiles and says a small “Sorry… hehe” as he pulls your mouth off his dick. 

You pant for a while, saliva coating both your face and his dicks. He lets you rest for a bit but not before bending you over. “There we go,” he says, as he rips the fabric of your dress from your body. You don’t care though, you didn’t care for anything else anymore, you just needed him inside of you and you needed it quick. He aligns his bottom cock with your pussy, but he doesn’t move. You try to move back, but he keeps your hips still to stop your movement. “R-Ryomen… what are you doing?” you ask, halfway begging for him to just put it in. 

He chuckles for a bit before he tells you “I want you to beg for it” as he rubs his tip against your slick folds. 

Right. 

He might be horny right now, but he’s still the same asshole. 

You play along, willing to basically do anything to get him inside you. You go “P-Please?” in the softest voice you could. This wasn’t satisfactory for Sukuna, however, as he slaps you ass and says “You can do better than that! Come on– try harder”. 

You’re getting frustrated, and you had half a mind to force his dick inside yourself, but with his hands still on your hips, you just keep begging “Please please Ryomen, please put your dick inside of me…please pleas– ahh!” 

He slammed his full length inside of you all at once, shocking you as your body tries to quickly get used to having him inside of you. “Ryomen! That was mean!” you squirm out, looking at him from behind you. He looked back at you and went “Shh… I’m sorry, it’s okay though, yeah?” he smiles softly as he begins to slowly thrust in and out of you. “It doesn’t hurt too bad, right?” he asks you, and you nod in approval, silently asking him to go faster. Almost as if he could read your mind, his thrusts get faster, and he goes “Yeah… Let’s go give those assholes the heir they want so bad, yeah?” he laughs as he abuses your pussy with his dick. 

He flips you around after a while, and you’re able to face him as he fucks you. You looked down at where your genitals met and saw as the dick that wasn’t inside of you stood resting on top of your body, almost as a way to show how deep in you he was, as if you couldn’t already feel it. It also rubbed against your clit every so often as Sukuna continued thrusting. You began to jerk him off as he thrusted against you. In and out, in and out, you were in bliss, it felt perfect, it was absolutely perfect. 

Perfect. That was the word Sukuna kept repeating as he kept fucking you, almost as if he wasn’t absolutely ruining you. No man was going to ever match him, you knew this just by feeling him. Still, he kept on going on about how perfect you were “You and this perfect fuckin’ pussy, hah, it’s going to be the end of me” he says as his thrusts get sloppier and faster. He’s close. It’s okay though, you were as well. 

Both of your moans and skin slapping against skin are the only things that can be heard as you both came. Both of his cocks came simultaneously, with one spraying cum all over your body as the other coated your insides. You were unequivocally his now, but that was okay, everything was okay. You were too fucked out to care about anything anymore, the world seemed so small now that you felt this pleasure.

You're getting dizzy, and your vision slowly goes black as you pass out from exhaustion. 

When you came to, you found yourself back in your room wearing a nightgown. You don’t recall ever coming back, so he must have brought you back on his own and changed you. You would have thought it was all a hazy wet dream, but looking at your night stand, you saw the little bit of ripped fabric from last night’s dress. Definitely not a dream. 

“You’ve embarrassed us!” your mother’s yells boom throughout the throne room. Turns out, going missing at your own engagement party is a big no-no to a lot of people. Your mother goes on and on about how no one was able to find you, and how you seemed to vanish out of thin air. How guards looked everywhere throughout the castle to no avail until someone found you sleeping in your room. 

“Thankfully…” your mother sighs, “The Prince is willing to give you another chance, and is still going to marry you”. 

Your stomach boils with rage at this, they weren’t worried at all! They just cared about the marriage, once again. With all the might in your soul, you yell out a big “No!” toward your parents. This shocks the King and Queen, and the latter slowly walks toward you, going “No? What do you mean…no?”. 

You stutter for a bit, before you go, in the bravest voice you could, “I…I’m not going to marry him”. 

SLAP. 

Your mother strikes you across your face before she turns around, almost as if she’s too disgusted to even look at you. As if you said something so treacherous. She doesn’t say anything, but calls for the guards. As they grab at your arms she goes, “Make sure she doesn’t leave the room, use any force necessary”. This makes your eyes go wide. The marriage was one thing, but not being able to leave was another. “Wait–Wait no…” you yell out, struggling against the guards “Stop! Mom! Stop them! Wai–”.

The doors slowly close in your face as you see your mother walk back to her throne. You continue to try to struggle against the guards to no avail, they throw you into your room and slam the door shut. You attempt to climb down the window but you see the guards posted out there as well. They must have realized what was going on you thought.

You begin to sob. Your first thoughts are of Sukuna. What’s going to happen now? You think back to all your memories of the past few months together, how you felt happy. It wasn’t the fake, saturated, happiness you were used to in the castle, it was real, and you might never get the chance to feel it again. 

Weeks pass…though they feel more like years. You spend your days looking out the window toward the forest, you think of Ryomen and wonder how he must be. You think of your last day together, how you never even said goodbye. Every so often you see him in the distance, and you wave to each other, but even he notices the guards by your window, you see a faint sadness in his face. It was alright, these brief few seconds waving to each other was enough to keep you sane at least, and you needed it as your wedding day inched closer and closer. 

On your wedding day, you saw yourself in the mirror. You looked beautiful, wearing a gorgeous white dress and a tiara filled with what seems to be a thousand jewels. Though, it’s hard to truly look at yourself and not feel the least bit upset. The jewels… They looked like the stars. You remember the time you and Sukuna laid under those very same stars, and sadness once again paints your face. 

You dreaded this day, but now that it actually came, you don’t feel many feelings toward it. You only feel numb as you try to dissociate as much as possible. You simply try your best to get the day over with, holding out hope that after the day is over, your restrictions are lowered and you’re able to sneak out into the forest again.

Making your way to the altar, you face your husband. He looks bored as ever, clearly wanting to do this as much as you did. You were okay with this, this means that he wouldn’t bother trying to find out your whereabouts if you suddenly disappeared in random spurts. As the marriage ceremony began, you zoned out. As they go through the traditions, you’re simply thinking about all the things you’d do if you’re finally freed. That is, until you hear the head guard interrupt the ceremony. 

“Apologies for the intrusion, but my men and I have a special gift for the newly-wed royals…” as he says this, the gates open showing a group of guards, and they’re dragging… no. 

“Behold! The four-armed beast! Can you all believe he was sitting right by the castle… how stupid of him to believe he wouldn’t be caught by our men”. 

The audience gasps as Sukuna struggles against his chains, the two of you lock eyes. If he weren’t in such danger right now, you would run to him in an instant to hold him close, making sure to never let go. 

Looking at the Prince, the guard asks “How does the future King feel about slaying this monstrous beast?” 

Shit. Fuck. 

You needed to think fast, you had to somehow stop this from happening. The Prince accepts the offer with a sinister smile, and he reaches for his sword as Sukuna continues to struggle. In your panic, you grab the sword of one of the guards and stab the Prince directly in the chest.

Blood trickling down his chest… he looks at you, no… he glares at you. Everyone stops for a moment in shock, as if this was the last thing any of them ever expected to happen. Suddenly, someone yells “TREASON!” pointing at you, and guards begin to surround you. Taking advantage of the messy situation, Sukuna is able to break free from his chains and run to grab you. Fighting off guards, you and Sukuna run as fast as possible to get away from the crowd.  

You’re both somehow able to outrun the people, mostly thanks to Sukuna’s speed, but this doesn’t stop people from trying to chase you both. Looking behind you for a quick second, you see nothing but a crowd of people yelling with weapons. Wanting to get away at any cost, you followed Sukuna into the shadows of the forest. 

Despite making it to the forest, you two continued running as fast as you could to the opposite direction from the kingdom. Thankfully, Sukuna’s stamina seemingly never runs out, and he’s able to run far. You two only stop after what feels like hundreds of miles, and you aren’t able to hear any people nor see any outline of the kingdom. 

You’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline from running, or if it’s the fact that you two haven’t seen each other for weeks, but the first thing you two do when you stop is make out. The two of you haven’t even uttered a single word to each other yet, but that didn’t matter right now. All you needed was his touch, for him to fully mark you as his. 

He seamlessly ripped apart your wedding dress as he kissed you. The very same dress that served to show the ownership your future husband would have over you was now in pieces on the floor. 

He carefully dropped both of you down on that same floor as you both continued locking lips. Taking his own clothes off, he wrapped your legs around his hips as he aligned one of his cocks with your needy pussy. Wordlessly, he began thrusting against you like a man starved, and perhaps he was starved. He thought he was never going to see you again, now that he had you, he had no intentions of letting go.

You still had your tiara on, though not for long. As with every thrust of his hips the tiara slowly slipped away. Eventually, it fell off with a loud clunk on the floor. This didn’t deter either of you, though, nothing could deter the two of you at this point. 

You continued holding him tight while moaning and giving him sloppy kisses until at one point, you felt something wet rubbing against your clit. Confused, you look down and see his stomach mouth in its full glory, its long tongue flicking against your clit over and over, making a moaning mess out of you. You held Sukuna tighter, making sure to not abandon his other cock and kept jerking him off as he went in and out of you.

“I missed you” is the first thing he says to you in between the pants of exhaustion and pleasure. You moan at him to let him know you heard. Looking at your face, he notices tears coating the corners of your eyes. Still feeling him in your guts and your emotions all over the place, you try your best to choke out a sentence, “I— I thought you were going to die” you finally begin crying out, fully digesting the terrible situation you two were in just a few moments ago. 

“Shh…” Sukuna coos, holding you tight “I looked for you at your window every day, you saw that, right?” He asked you, and you nodded, holding him even tighter. 

“Every. Damn. Day” he says, thrusting in your pussy in between each word. “I couldn’t believe that fucker was going to be married to you” he scoffs, looking away for a moment before looking back at your face “Pissed me off”. Still lost in pleasure at the combination of his lower tongue and dick, you aren’t able to respond.

He doesn’t mind this though, as his thrusts simply get even faster and even more desperate. He’s close, and you were too. “You’re mine… only mine” he growls in your ear as he cums all over your body once again. You follow suit not far after, still the same mess you were before.

It was in this bliss that he said it, the words that you both already had at the tips of your tongues…

“I love you” Sukuna whispered into your ear. He whispered it so softly, in fact, that you might have missed it if you weren’t paying attention. You grab his face and cup his cheeks, looking at the gorgeous man in front of you, and with all the love in your heart, you say it back “I love you too”. 

He let out a sigh of relief at your words, as if he almost didn’t expect you to say them, and touched your lips with his own once again. “You’re mine” he repeats, and you had no intention of proving him wrong.

The next few hours are spent with the two of you cuddling on the forest floor together and giving each other sloppy kisses. You knew in your heart at that moment, holding Sukuna’s large body against your own, that you had no intention of ever going back to that cold and lonely castle, and Sukuna wasn’t going to let you go either, with his four muscular arms holding you against him as you both laid on the floor.  

Once you both cooled down, you looked down awkwardly at your naked body. Sukuna noticed and asked what was wrong. Looking down at your wedding dress, you go “Uhh… those were my only clothes”. Sukuna chuckles, and picked up a ripped up piece of fabric, tying it around you to make a new makeshift “dress”, “There ‘ya go, perfect” he pecks your lips as he gives you a toothy grin. You both simply laugh and you lean into his arm. 

“Well… what do we do now?” Sukuna asks you, he was willing to do anything that you wanted. Hell, he’d run thousands more miles to the edge of the Earth for you if you really asked him to. You think for a moment, before going “Well I can’t go back now… I’m probably charged with treason.. Haha”, you say half-jokingly, though you most definitely would be dead if you went back. 

So… the two just kept walking, camping out in different spots of the forest. Thankfully, Sukuna had great survival skills when it came to this, and you turned out to be a quick learner when it came to having to live in the wild. 

Eventually, you two stumbled upon an old abandoned cottage, and were able to live there permanently after fixing it up a bit. At first, you two were worried at the prospect of people possibly coming around, but that fear disappeared as the days went on. You only had each other in these deep woods. Though, that was all either of you truly needed in this world. 

He was a monster. Though, at this point… you were probably one too. 

You never did find out what happened to your kingdom after you ran away. It no longer mattered though, as you were now finally free to live life on your own terms. 

There were no more duties to attend to, no Kings and Queens to please, no marriage to be forced into, all that was left to do was live Happily Ever After. 

–

A/N: I poured out my soul to this story so thank you so much for reading :,) 

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (Epilogue)

ー☆ Epilogue

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: suggestive language, cursing, smut ー☆ Word count: 8.7k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: mature ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: I chose no song for this chapter, so everyone is free to listen to whatever or not listen to anything at all, however, while doing the moodboard I was listening to Power and I actually started sobbing, so uh, you can give it a listen if you wish to! I won't yap here, so see you at the end of the chapter! <3 I hope you enjoy, and as always, let me know what y'all thought of the last chapter of my beloved series. divider

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red

@sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng

@deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf

@hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380 @xciiiomwliah @vixensss

@catchingskzzzs @tesssaurrr @ginger-mingi @mingisbbg

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

3 months later

            Spring was finally approaching, the weather having turned less harsh and warmer in the span of a few weeks, slowly painting nature in its vibrant and gorgeous colors that I would never get enough of. And we were lucky the air was warmer now outside, because in the confines of the limited space of my little studio of my Arts Club at university—which is more of a storage room to be fair—the smell of fresh dye and incense mingled together almost in a nauseating way, leaving me no option but to crack open the small window of the studio. Well, since it was so high up, I had to ask Mingi to open it as I didn’t want to get on a chair as I would have had to walk to the front of the room, and I was too lazy to do that. Music played quietly in the corner from Mingi’s portable speaker as he hummed along the melody of the song, typing away on his phone as his shoulders were slouched over, head lowered.

My eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as I bit my tongue, making sure the dye spread out evenly at the back of Mingi’s head, not wanting to leave spots of his previously platinum blonde hair. Around a week ago, he and Seonghwa hung out under the pretense of watching movies and having a boys' night in which they would drink beer and maybe compose some music, however, the next day when Mingi came over to have lunch with my mother and me, his hair was short. The long strands that curled prettily against his nape and ears were gone, replaced by short spikey hair that stuck up against his head, giving him a punkish look. My mother had squealed when she saw him, touched his hair, and then cradled his cheeks, gushing about how handsome he was, making me glare at the two as they forgot about my existence. Instead, I went and set the table and left them to their usual gossiping, shaking my head when my mother told him all about the new hot doctor at work she had her eyes on.

At times, those two would get lost in their own world and forget about my existence, amusing me, but also prompting me to give them a side-eye. Don’t get me wrong, I was beyond the moon that my boyfriend and mother got along really well, but at times it almost felt like I didn’t even exist—and before you would be like Mingi and say that I am dramatic, the fact that my mother seemed to love Yunho just as much as Mingi, definitely sent me into an existential crisis after the first time she confessed she loved the two as if they were her own sons. And about Yunho, well, yes, we’ve worked out our differences—which involved a lot of explaining, invoking buried memories, and a lot of apologies from Yunho’s side—so now we were all a big happy family—family as in not to be misunderstood, we all loved each other and had a nice bond. To be honest, I felt no mal-intent towards Yunho when after a month of dating Mingi we finally decided to sit down and discuss everything with his best friend, and I even found myself now confiding in him and asking him for advice in areas Seulgi—and Wooyoung—couldn’t help, because, after all, Yunho knew Mingi best. And Yunho’s girlfriend was an absolute angel and sweetheart, I took a liking to her quite quickly and found her love for literature rather adorable as she’d often quote her favorite characters from her favorite books.

Mingi snickered as I playfully pushed his head forward as I was done dyeing his platinum hair to a regular, darker, blonde with pink hues in it. I tried to look over his shoulder to see what he found so amusing but he cradled his phone to his chest and made me roll my eyes as I walked to the sink to wash the small bowl and the brush I used to dye his hair. Mingi changed the music to something more upbeat and a lot noisier than the music he, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa made, and I came to realize the speaker was playing Limp Bizkit. I couldn’t say that I enjoyed their music too much, I preferred something more indie, but I still appreciated some of their songs. I turned on the faucet and started washing the brush first as Mingi approached me and leaned against the counter, lips pursed as he tried to hide his cheeky smile. I threw him a questioning look as I rinsed the bowl out, applying a little soap in it to wash out the dye completely as Mingi finally spoke up, “Check this out, ‘Your face is a work of art, my legs should frame it.’”

My eyebrows furrowed as I gave Mingi a confused look, quickly making him pout, “Oh, come on! It’s ‘art rizz’!”

I snorted as I placed the bowl and brush aside to dry, peeling the gloves off my hands carefully to not stain my clothes or skin, “You’ve had better ones Mings, besides, shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“I mean,” Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed as he pocketed his phone in his light pink jeans, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He wore a white loose sleeveless tank top today, his biceps bulged from the action and I tried not to let my eyes linger on the well-defined muscles, “I definitely like the idea you’re suggesting—”

“As if we haven’t done that already.” I interrupted with a pointed look and Mingi just rolled his eyes.

“That’s beside the point,” And then he was smirking, leaning into my space as I rinsed the soap off my hands, “wait, are you suggesting something right now?”

“I just dyed your hair, Mingi, no, I’m not suggesting anything.” I sighed, unimpressed, as I shut the faucet off and grabbed a small towel to dry my hands off in it. You see, Mingi is rather…vocal with his needs and quick in executing them, so, I cannot say we haven’t been… active, if you know what I mean.

“Pity.” Mingi pouted for a second before he moved on to the next subject, his brain sometimes moving too fast for me to be able to keep up with him, “You remember that well-dressed woman from our last gig at Outlaw?”

“I sure do, she looked rather out of place with her pencil skirt and blouse.” I hummed as I leaned my hip against the sink, facing Mingi. He grinned and then fished his phone out of his pocket again and unlocked it, clicking on something I couldn’t see. Then, he cleared his throat and raised it to a higher pitch that was definitely mocking the woman’s voice.

“Mr. Song, I am delighted to let you know that Horizon Records would love to work with Noir Zenith, and we’d like to set an appointment as soon as it fits you and your bandmates' schedule. – Hong J.” Mingi bit his bottom lip as my eyes widened, prompting me to hold onto his wrist in excitement.

“Wait,” I said, eyebrows lightly furrowing, “isn’t this that super famous and huge record everyone dreams of getting signed to?!”

And when Mingi’s smile grew into a hug grin, I felt joy and excitement fill my senses as I grabbed both of Mingi’s hands, jumping up and down as he giggled and followed along, the two of us jumping in small circles like little kids. I couldn’t believe my ears, this was even bigger than the last record they agreed to sign with for half a year—the one Hongjoong helped out with—and once their contract was over, they could sign a new one with Horizon Records.

“That’s fucking amazing, Mingi!” I exclaimed loudly as we finally stopped jumping around, my heart beating fast as Mingi nodded in excitement, his teeth visible as he couldn’t stop smiling.

“I know, Wooyoung started running laps while screaming and Seonghwa cried clinging to me for half an hour when I told them.” I chuckled at the image in my head, but quickly realized the message wasn’t fresh. Before I could go off on him for hiding something so important from me, Mingi beat me to it, a knowing glint in his eyes, “Mrs. Hong sent the text yesterday afternoon and I only didn’t tell you about it because I knew we’d meet today and I wanted to see your reaction, so, don’t be mad, please.”

And how could I be mad at him when his plump lips were jutting out and his eyebrows raised in a manner that made him look adorable and heartbreaking at the same time? I huffed and squeezed his hands before I released them, trying to play off the fact that he already knew me so well, “I wasn’t about to get mad, I’m very happy for you and the rest of the boys, my love.”

Mingi giggled and looked away, the high of his cheekbones slightly flushed, and I grinned because I could never get over the fact that calling him ‘love’ or ‘my love’ turned him into a giggling and blushing mess. It was adorable, cute, and somehow still sexy, and before I would let any stray thoughts enter my head and distract me from the plans we had, I cleared my throat, “We should eat that pizza we ordered, it’s probably already gone cold.”

Mingi hummed but didn’t speak up as I went to walk towards the white sheet we had laid on the floorboards to sit on, pizza, black nail polish, Mingi’s pink beanie, and my sketchbook scattered all over it. However, before I could take another step, my feet suddenly weren’t touching the ground anymore as I was lifted by the waist, a squeal leaving my lips as I clutched onto Mingi’s bare arms, “Mingi! Put me down!”

“No.” He giggled against my neck and I felt his warm lips press a small kiss against my nape as my hair was in a bun, then he was running towards the sheet as we both laughed, the song playing through the speaker drowned out by our loudness. He finally placed me back down on my feet when we reached the white sheet and I sat down in a crisscross position, opening the box of pizza as Mingi took his seat across me. I grinned as I grabbed a slice, my stomach growling in hunger once again, and then I took a bite of the cheesy pepperoni pizza, making Mingi chuckle as he looked less hungry and less eager to devour our lunch for today. I extended my hand for his phone and he gave it to me without a word, I typed in his password before I looked through his playlist, taking bites of my pizza in the meantime. I found a slower beat that I liked and switched the currently playing song to that and then handed his phone back after I locked it, smiling as Mingi was flipping through my newest sketchbook which had mostly drawings of him.

I didn’t expect him to flip to that particular page and I almost choked as the pizza went down a little array, making Mingi smirk as he pulled the drawing closer to himself, dark eyes inspecting his sleeping form in the drawing. Well, the drawing looked completely innocent unless you knew what happened before it, and I couldn’t help but blush harder when Mingi bit his lower lip, pizza in his hand forgotten as he traced the blanket that hung low on his naked hips, torso on display and face serene as he had been in a deep slumber. When he looked up, he didn’t look much too smug, but there was a glint in his eyes that I had become accustomed to too well. He was in awe, but he was turned on, and I couldn’t help but stuff my face more with pizza, satiating my hunger as a means of distraction from the fact that I drew Mingi post-sex not even four days ago.

“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t a talented songwriter and composer but a good hell of a painter.” His voice was deeper as he mumbled, taking a bite of his pizza as he glanced back down at the drawing, “I want to draw you too, to capture you in all forms and commemorate you for an eternity.”

Well, what a way to make me blush harder. I grabbed another slice as I had finished the first one as a means to stall for a second, ponder over my answer, “You’re good with your words though, unlike me. I always struggle to express myself concisely, yet to you it’s easy. You create beautiful lyrics and you never fail to capture my true nature in your songs, so I think I’ll always live on in your music, Mingi, you have already commemorated me for an eternity.”

That made Mingi blink in surprise as he hadn’t even realized that before, and I smiled as he gave me a lasting look before he flipped the page, the drawing of him playing with a kitten I had found outside my porch. Now, she was our kitten and she, obviously, loved Mingi more than me—just like my mother, I didn’t try to complain about this too, “You inspire me like none other.”

“You inspire me too, Mings.” Mingi’s smile was shy as he continued flipping through the sketchbook, less filled than my other ones as I decided to dedicate this one only to him. He’d seen the older sketches plenty of times before, yet he never failed to become shy when looking through them.

I finished my slice of pizza, dusted my hands off and made sure my cheeks weren’t greasy as I leaned towards the black nail polish, shaking it in front of Mingi with a grin, “Ready to get your nails painted?”

He nodded excitedly and handed me his left hand as he still held his slice of pizza in the right one. His thick fingers were smooth and decorated with rings, much like mine, and I flipped my left hand around to place his palm in mine. After having arrived at my humble studio once we were finished with our classes for the day, Mingi got to work and painted my nails. He had bought some new nail polish a week ago and convinced me to surprise me with them, so, the nails on my left hand were now almost neon green and the nails on my right hand almost Barbie pink. Sometime along, painting each other’s nails became a habit, something we both enjoyed doing and now we could confidently call it our thing.

I concentrated hard to not smudge the skin around his nails, eyebrows furrowed and teeth clamping down on my bottom lip as Mingi’s eyes were either on me or his nails, bobbing his head along to the rhythm of the song playing. He usually chewed loudly and I was thankful he kept his mouth closed this time, knowing that it would only irritate me if he started chewing on his slice of pizza aggressively—it wouldn’t be the first time he does it just to annoy me. As I finished doing his middle finger, his phone rang and Mingi reached over to his left side as he bit on the crust of his pizza, picking his phone off the floor as the music cut off. He accepted the phone call and put it on speaker as I chuckled and watched him take out the crust from his mouth so that he could talk.

“Hey! Song Mingi!” It was unmistakably Wooyoung’s voice as he screamed into the phone, making me concerned that Mingi would lose his hearing if he had just normally picked up the phone without putting it on speaker, “What’s up, bro?!”

Mingi snickered, shaking his head as I finished painting the nails on his left hand, “I told you yesterday that I would hang out with Y/N after classes.”

“Ah, right,” Wooyoung hummed as I leaned down to press a kiss against Mingi’s hand, making him grin as he finished his slice, eagerly handing over his right hand to paint his nails, “And where are you two lovebirds?”

“In her studio,” Mingi answered as I got to work, careful as always as I painted his pinkie’s nail.

“Now that you mention, Seulgi said something about not being able to work on her assignment in the studio because of you two.”

I scoffed and before Mingi could answer, I spoke up as I leaned towards the phone, “I told Seulgi to do her assignment not two days before the deadline, and I also told her a week ago that I’d be hounding the studio with Mingi today.”

“Heard that babe?!” Wooyoung’s voice was distant just for a second, then he snickered, “She says you’re lucky she loves you, otherwise she would’ve kicked you out of your studio.”

“My own studio.” I huffed and applied another coat over Mingi’s forefinger’s nail to even out the texture, “What a bitch.”

“A bitch that is forced to listen to her best friend’s constant bitching, who’s the bitch now, Y/N?” Everyone snickered and I rolled my eyes as there was the unmistakable sound of a kiss pressed against a cheek through the phone, Mingi and I shared a look of mild disgust as I went to paint his thumb’s nail.

“Don’t start making out while you’re on the phone with me, Wooyoung.” Mingi’s voice carried disgust but there was a hint of amusement, “Anyways, what’s the purpose of your call? You never call unless you need something or I ask you to remind me of something.”

“It’s neither this time,” Seulgi chuckled through the phone, and then there was shuffling and I knew she walked away. I finished Mingi’s nails and closed the bottle of nail polish, sitting up on my knees to kiss Mingi’s cheek as he bit his lower lip, grinning at me as he wriggled his fingers happily.

“Do not be late to Aurora’s opening tonight and wear something extra fancy, Hongjoong will have our heads if we don’t honor his fiancé for God’s sake.” Wooyoung sounded mildly annoyed but it was no secret that he loved Hongjoong probably almost as much as he loved all of his friends, however, he’d never admit that to anyone. Aurora became the name of Seonghwa’s studio and small gallery, and tonight was the grand opening. Everyone was excited about it, with Seonghwa being a nerve wreck as he feared people wouldn’t show up. After having talked to both him and Hongjoong, they agreed to display a few of my paintings in the front lobby and I was giddy and curious about everyone’s reaction to them. Nobody knew what I had handed over to Seonghwa, and he had beamed when his eyes took in the paintings, he getting emotional instead of me and making me chuckle as I hugged him tightly and thanked him for the opportunity.

“You should worry about yourself, Woo,” Mingi teased with a chuckle, “Y/N and I will look impeccable, as always.”

“That is for sure,” I muttered as I sat back on my ankles, watching Mingi with a grin as we had decided to match our outfits for the night.

“Talk to you later, we’ve got some business to attend to with Y/N now.” And then Wooyoung said his goodbye and they hung up as Mingi pointed towards the pizza with a pout, “I’m still hungry, will you feed me?”

And even if I said no and rolled my eyes, five minutes later Mingi had a teasing glint in his eyes as I fed him his third slice of pizza, smart enough to remain silent or else I wouldn’t have continued feeding him or helping him drink water while his nails dried.

            Barely an hour later, when Mingi’s hunger and thirst were satiated and his nails were dry, we replaced the white sheet with a huge flat canvas that we would paint over. We had agreed on painting a scenery, something similar to the creek we so much liked to visit when the weather allowed it, but sometime along my attempts at making it look like the actual creek, Mingi’s not so painter skills came into the mix and created a—whatever that did not look like the creek. He refused to admit that what was supposed to be the water now looked like the sky, making the whole painting look like it was upside down from our standpoint, and he also kept on vehemently denying that he tried to paint a dick over the trunk of the tree I spent at least fifteen minutes on to make it look as realistic as possible. All in all, I concluded that without Mingi here I would’ve been able to finish the painting in a maximum of three hours, however, now there was no future for finding a vision in whatever we have created.

But I didn’t mind, because this was Mingi’s and my work, something we created together while laughing and talking about whatever came to our minds, the atmosphere light and joyful. I had also washed out the dye from his hair and we towel-dried it, making it look spikier than usual. I couldn’t lie, this new hair made Mingi look incredibly hot, and it took me some willpower to not jump him as he looked at me with those sharp eyes and a knowing smirk, the asshole.

“But you’ll dye it back to black soon, right?” I asked while painting clouds over the once creek turned sky now. Mingi was behind me, crouched down, and his clothes still somehow miraculously not stained. I wore my old overall knowing that I’d stain myself the second I opened a can of paint, and I wasn’t wrong at all as the edges of my pants were already stained green and white.

“I mean, do you hate this color?” Mingi asked from behind me as he dipped his brush into black, terrifying me of whatever he had in mind to do with the color once I saw him.

“What the hell do you need black for?!” I exclaimed as I grabbed his wrist, making his eyebrows shoot up in amusement.

“Aren’t artists supposed to just go with the flow?” His lips jutted out as he playfully leaned closer, my eyebrows furrowing as I was ready to oppose his idea, “You’re making me question your working etiquette, doll, I don’t find you creative enough—”

“As if!” I exclaimed only mildly offended as I knew Mingi was only teasing me, “Going with the flow and trusting your instincts is one thing, love, but having no vision or idea in mind is plain terrifying.”

“I was going to sign the top of it, but never mind—”

“Fine,” I groaned, gripping his wrist to stop Mingi from twisting away. His voice was whiney and he was pouting, not even looking at me as if he was offended. I knew he wasn’t; he was just acting up to get what he wanted. And unfortunately, it was working embarrassingly well on me, “Sign it.”

“Great!” He beamed as he leaned forward, mindful of staining his pink jeans with paint and I sighed as I shook my head, making curved lines before I colored them to make them look more like clouds. I had no idea what would become of the painting, but I certainly was eager to find out.

“Back to your hair,” I spoke up as Mingi carefully drew his ‘fix on’ signature onto the canvas, “I don’t hate the blonde but I miss your natural color, it suits you more, makes you look cuter and softer.”

“Aw,” Mingi turned back to give me puppy eyes—which he learned from Yunho, no doubt, “you like your boyfriend to be all soft and cute? I thought you like it when I get all wild and destroy—”

“Do not finish that sentence, Song Mingi.” I threatened as I sat back, brush pointed threateningly towards Mingi.

“Or what?” His crooked teeth showed as he grinned, quirking an eyebrow to annoy me further. I huffed and tried to think of a good comeback, but came up empty-handed for once so I gave him a pointed glare.

“I’ll stain you with paint.”

“Bet.”

“Bet.”

And I know Mingi didn’t expect me to actually follow through with my childish threat, but as I jerked my wrist in his direction, the remaining paint from my brush flew off and, well, stained his white sleeveless tank top. Mingi’s mouth fell open as he gaped down at himself, and I laughed, giving him a smug look.

“What, did you think I was fucking around?”

“Oh, I’ll make you wish you never did that!”

And before I could prepare myself for whatever attack he had planned, he pressed his hand against his brush and coated it in black paint then sprung towards me, making me gasp as his thick fingers drew a cold line against my cheekbone. Mingi grinned as I stared at him in surprise, but I reacted soon quickly as I pressed my fingers into the fresh paint on the canvas and returned the favor, the only difference being that I drew a circle on his forehead with white paint. Mingi blinked once, then twice, and a mischievous grin spread onto his lips which told me that I was in trouble.

I quickly scrambled to my feet, but Mingi was fast as he dug his whole hand in green paint and slapped my ass painfully hard, making me cry out as it stung even through the fabric, making me give him a deadly glare, “Song Mingi! That fucking hurt!”

“You’re a pussy.” He stuck his tongue out and I tsked, leaning down to push my whole hand inside the red paint. Mingi’s eyes widened as I gave him a victorious smirk, eyes narrowing as he jumped up to his feet, holding his arms up in defeat.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to start a war—” But his futile attempts at saving his ass fell on deaf ears as I cackled and took off towards him, making him yelp as he tried to duck and run away, making us run around the canvas. We were both barefoot and as Mingi tried to jump over the canvas, he miscalculated where his long legs would land and landed on his freshly painted signature, making him yelp again as it was no doubt cold against his feet. I laughed as I easily caught up with him and felt up his chest, biting my lower lip as Mingi’s eyes widened.

“Oh, no, your white shirt is all stained now.” I fake pouted as Mingi froze, incredulous eyes looking between me and his shirt. I chuckled and clapped my hands together, deciding that my job was done here, but then Mingi was stepping back and leaving foot marks all over the canvas on purpose. I scoffed but didn’t care much, the poor painting had been long ruined. I crossed my arms in front of my chest in defiance as he dipped both of his hands in pink paint and then gave me a grin as he beckoned me over with a finger. I huffed in disbelief as if I’d hand myself over willingly to him. And he knew that because I dipped both of my hands in light blue paint and faced him again. Our stare-off was intense and calculating as we both tried to guess the other’s next step, and thinking I’d have the upper hand, I stepped in the middle of the canvas just as Mingi moved too and I raised my hands to dirty his tank top even more when he cupped my cheeks and made me squeal.

The paint felt cold against my skin and I knew it would dry it out once it started drying itself, but I was far too amused to worry about something so insignificant right now. Wanting revenge, I grasped his hair and massaged my hands well into the freshly dyed darker blonde strands, making his hair look like cotton candy due to the pink hue mixing with the light blue of the paint.

“My hair! Y/N!” Mingi whined loudly slapping my hands away, but I wasn’t finished as I dirtied his jaw, neck, and tank top too. Mingi was pouting hard and glaring at me at the same time, already sharp eyes turning sharper and full of revenge as he flushed his body against mine and cupped my ass over the fabric, gripping tightly and kneading the flesh.

“Mingi!” I exclaimed, content with being so close to him, but also annoyed that he kept going for my ass, “Leave my ass alone, you idiot!”

“You ruined my hair!”

“I told you to dye it black and not a different shade of blonde.”

“I thought you were a firm believer in people doing whatever they want.”

“I am, but you’re my boyfriend and I find you hotter with black hair.”

“Well, you’re my girlfriend and I find you hotter with my dick down your throat.”

We both paused as my eyes widened and Mingi caught himself a second later, cheeks flushing as he looked sheepish, finally releasing my ass as his hands settled around my hips instead, “Oopsie, that went too far but it’s the truth—”

He cried out as I whacked him over the head, giving him a fierce look, “Yeah? I also find you hotter gagged around my fingers—”

“We only did that once!”

“Are you afraid it makes you less masculine?”

“I agreed to let you peg me, bro.”

“I know, bro, and you fucking enjoyed it.”

“So, what’s the issue here?”

“That you keep slapping and kneading my ass, leave it alone.”

“Okay, princess, my bad.”

“You’re the princess, Mingi, not me. You’re always whining.”

“And you’re always beating me up, Y/N.”

“Am not!”

“Yeah, you are!”

I scowled at Mingi and pushed him back by the chest, by no means aggressively or harshly, but his dramatic ass pretended to stumble and then he fell back, splaying out across the canvas. I huffed and pinched the bridge off my nose as he made fake crying noises, blinking up at me slowly, “See? I’m huwt.”

I closed my eyes to compose myself and control the need to kick him in the balls for being cringy, “Don’t talk like that, oh, my God.”

“Do you hate it?” He grinned evilly as I walked off the canvas, and to look at me, he turned onto his stomach as he cupped his chin and raised his legs to swing them in the air. He looked like a mess with the paint all over his hair, face, and body, some having gotten onto his pants too now that he was laying on the canvas. I chuckled and shook my head as I eyed my boyfriend, knowing that I looked probably just as messy as him.

“I do, actually, you’re only cute when you’re not trying to be cute.” I deadpanned and Mingi huffed dramatically, letting his arms fall as he pressed his forehead against them. Eyes falling on his round ass, I knew it was my time for payback, and I moved swiftly before he could realize what I was aiming for—it wouldn’t be the first time—so I quickly kneeled next to him and leaned down, baring my teeth as I opened my mouth wide. At first, Mingi jumped when my teeth made contact with his jeans and then when I bit down hard, he yelped, soon turning into loud cries as I continued to bite his left ass cheek harder and harder. He started flailing around and I pulled back with a cackle after I made sure my teeth had sunken in deep enough. But, I had no time to react as he quickly turned around and leaped onto me, landing on top of me as I fell back onto the canvas, no doubt smudging even more whatever paint hadn’t dried yet.

Mingi got on top of me, sitting on my hips as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, pinning me to the floor. I smirked as I raised my eyebrows tauntingly at him, watching his eyes slowly rake over my body to take me in.

“That hurt.”

“Fair enough, it hurt too when you slapped my ass.”

“Well, you have no right to whine so much about it anymore.”

“I do if you keep slapping it, and I also have the right to bite your ass as revenge.”

Mingi’s eyes narrowed and I giggled as he slowly leaned down, placing his hands on both sides of my head to prop himself up, effectively caging me between himself and the floor. I continued looking at him challengingly as he bit his bottom lip, eyes never settling as they searched my face for even a fraction that showed that I would back down. But I wouldn’t, and he knew that by now as he suddenly smirked too, leaning so close our lips brushed against each other.

“I think I won, doll.”

“I didn’t know we were in a contest, love.”

And then he sealed his lips against mine, shutting up the both of us in the most effective way as our lips moved slowly, savoring each other’s taste and lips. Mingi shifted above me and I eagerly opened my legs to let him settle between them as I hugged his torso, hands raking up and down his back slowly as his hips pressed firmly against mine. I smirked against Mingi’s lips when his breath hitched in the back of his throat due to my fingers tangling into his short strands now a little crusty from the red paint in it, it was no secret that Mingi liked it when I pulled on his hair. He cupped my chin with one hand as he pressed his weight on his left arm, the only cue I needed to open up my mouth to grant him access. We both sighed in contentment as his tongue slowly glided against mine, my legs coming up around his hips to lock Mingi’s body against mine.

Mingi moaned when I tangled my fingers just a little harder into his hair, letting him lap at my tongue as he explored my mouth, my body growing hotter as the seconds passed by, hands slipping under his loose tank top to feel up his warm skin. The skin of his back was smooth and I pressed my nails into it as I slowly racked it up his back, feeling Mingi shiver against my body as he jerked his hips forward, making me hum against his mouth as he pulled my bottom lip between his teeth and clamped down on it, sucking hard. I groaned and dug my nails into his shoulders, pulling my head back to be able to lean up and press kisses against his lean neck, his cologne mixing with the paint that was smeared all over us. My lips were hot as I parted them to press wet kisses against his flesh, sucking in the areas I knew Mingi was sensitive to, making him groan and jerk his hips forward again. With a hand slipping down to his hips, I gripped him firmly and prompted him to grind against me, Mingi’s head buried in my hair as I continued to press kisses until I reached his collarbones, gripping the hem of his tank top. He wasted no second as he pulled back just slightly, slipping the fabric off his torso, leaving it bare for me as I grinned at him, feeling his chest and abs up as he worked at the clips of my overall.

I kissed the skin between his pectorals and then pressed up on my elbows as Mingi made quick work of slipping the overall down to my waist and ultimately out of them as goosebumps covered the bare skin of my legs. We threw the overalls off to the side and Mingi was then moving back, down between my legs as he hovered above my thighs, eyes boring into mine as he pressed a feather-like kiss against my left thigh. I gulped and fisted my palms as heat pooled in my lower stomach, his lips always featherlight as he advanced higher up on my thighs with nips and kisses, sometimes licking at the skin teasingly. I knew my cheeks were flushed as I felt hotter by the minute and I shuddered when his lips pressed against my core through the fabric of my panties, making the breath hitch in the back of my throat. Mingi smirked and did it once again before he licked a slow strip upward, closing his eyes to hum, and I let my fingers tangle in his hair as he tapped my inner thigh, moving away from where I wanted him most.

He sat back to undo the buttons and zipper of his jeans, and I watched in anticipation as he slipped the fabric off his thick thighs and ass slowly, in a teasing manner, bottom lip between his teeth as he was half hard already, eyes hooded once he was done with his half-assed striptease. I chuckled and he was all over me again, hips flushed against mine again as I wrapped my legs around his hips, eager to feel his heavy body press me down into the floor. Mingi’s fingers gingerly traveled from my waist up to the hem of my blouse and then he brought it over my head and arms, landing in the pile of clothes to the side. And then his lips were over mine again, licking into my mouth and biting my lip messily as he slowly ground his hips against mine, making me hold onto him as it was easy to feel him in just our underwear. One of my hands went to tease at the elastic of his boxers and, despite him talking shit about it, I knew he liked it when I kneaded his ass, the skin sensitive for him there.

Mingi moaned and ground just a little harder against me, making me burn for him more as he cupped one of my boobs through the bra, pinching the bud as our tongues moved messily without much purpose or goal, too focused on how our bodies felt with the ministrations done to it. As he pressed himself up on his elbow, the hand that grabbed my boob traveled lower on my body until it was inside my panties and rubbing circles against my clit, making me moan out his name loudly, his length grinding up against my thigh as he bit my collarbone, making me screw my eyes shut as I was throbbing for him. But he was a little shit and he only teased, rubbing but never quite letting his fingers slip inside as he chuckled against my ear, making me grit my teeth at him as I gripped his wrist to keep him pressing against my clit as my hips kicked off the floor.

“You’re wet, doll.”

“And you’re not doing enough, love.”

Mingi chuckled again and I moaned as he teasingly slipped just the tip of his finger inside, his rings cold against my burning skin, my nails digging into the flesh of his ass. Mingi groaned and pulled back, making me groan in frustration as I glared at him, but he quickly silenced me with his lips as I felt him pull down my panties, I shimmied my hips to help him get over with it faster. He grinned and nipped at my bottom lip as I pushed his boxers off too, grabbing his dick to teasingly rub at his slit, making him hiss against my lips as our eyes fluttered open.

“What? Only you can tease?” Mingi’s eyes were dark and narrowed as he bucked against my hand, my pace awfully slow in jerking him off, “I could tell you to get off me and I would go on with my merry day—”

“Sure,” Mingi grinned, lips ghosting against my ear as his voice had dropped lower than usual, grabbing my wrist to stop my movements, “but you love my dick too much to pass up on it.”

I scoffed but said nothing, perhaps a little too desperate to have it inside me finally. I hated it when he teased me too much, and because Mingi knew this, he never passed up on the opportunity to get on my nerves even when we were having sex. He enjoyed it perhaps a little bit too much. But the teasing was finally over as he had gotten enough of it, eager to push in as he lined himself up with my entrance, pressing a kiss against my lips.

“I don’t have a condom.” He whispered, eyes searching mine.

“Just pull out, I’m fine.” I circled his shoulders, embracing myself as my core throbbed, eager to have his size expand my walls. Mingi hummed and then pressed another kiss against my lips as he slowly pushed inside, having to take it slow as he didn’t stretch me out with his fingers first, the burn insistent despite our active sex life. I still haven’t gotten used to it, but I didn’t mind as it only made me wetter for him, more eager to take him. Mingi’s bottom lip was between his teeth as he kept his breath labored, concentrating on not hurting me and taking it slow until I said so. I let my fingers run through his hair as I sighed, trying to relax my muscles and just melt into his arms, pressing a kiss against his cheek when he paused abruptly, shuddering.

“You’re so tight,” His voice was barely above a whisper and strained, “I’m about to burst.”

“So soon?” I asked with a chuckle, teasing as it earned me a sharp glare, “And whose fault it is I’m so tight? Your fingers are there for a reason.”

“Shut up.” Mingi groaned and then pressed in fully, a gasp leaving my throat at the sudden move, eyebrows scrunching up as he pressed in deep, making me feel fuller than before. My walls clamped down against his dick and Mingi pressed his forehead against mine as I embraced him, letting my fingers tangle in the short hair against his nape. I nodded, eyes boring into each other, and then Mingi was moving, slowly at first, pulling out only halfway before he was pressing back in, sighs leaving my lips as the pleasure was slowly building up, my hips moving in an attempt to meet his thrusts.

He secured his knees better against the canvas and pressed up on his elbows, hovering over me as his cross necklace dangled in my face, and the image was way too good and hot, knocking a moan out of me as he started thrusting faster, hips slamming back against mine as our pace got faster and more urgent, our breathy moans falling against each other’s lips as I nipped on Mingi’s bottom lip. I hooked a finger against the silver chain as his nose scrunched up, hips slamming back against mine with more purpose, more power, and eagerness as he looked down between our bodies, a grunt leaving his lips as he enjoyed the view. I hooked my legs tighter around his hips and prompted him to move faster, most of my moans were swallowed as we had to remember that we were at university still, in my own studio, so we couldn’t be too vocal. The walls here weren’t soundproof like in Mingi’s studio, yet staying quiet proved to become harder and harder as Mingi started pistoning his hips, grunts turned into low moans as he slammed his lips against mine, our breaths getting swallowed as our teeth knocked together, saliva gathering in the corner of our mouths as I pressed my hands against the small of his back, my own arching off the floor for an even better angle, keening his name when he finally reached the spot that had me seeing stars.

But Mingi was a diligent man who took his time in everything he did, even sex, and if he could prolong our orgasms, then he certainly would, so I had no doubt we’d be at it for a while, subsequently making us late to Aurora’s opening. And we couldn’t have that happening, but our brains were too fogged up and busy with something else to notice Wooyoung’s insistent texts on Mingi’s phone or my mother’s call to remind me I had to be home in fifteen minutes to start getting ready. Oh, well.

            Turns out, we got there just in time and nobody screamed our ears off—I’m looking at you Wooyoung—and Seonghwa was certainly overwhelmed when he saw the number of people that showed up for the opening. It was a mix of all age groups and people who knew Seonghwa and Hongjoong from different places, like Hongjoong’s employees or Seonghwa’s colleagues from his major, and there were even more fans of Zenith Noir that showed up, surprising all three of the guys. Seulgi and I stood to the side with grins on our faces as their fans swarmed them and gushed about the beautiful designs Seonghwa had displayed, some put behind glass to protect the expensive material Hongjoong’s team had worked on, and some even put out to be tried on and bought if someone desired to do so.

Seonghwa’s speech had been an emotional one in which he thanked everyone for their support and Hongjoong for believing in him and offering him opportunities he thought were real only in a far-fetched dream, and then I got teary-eyed when Seonghwa’s family surprised him with cake and hugs and praises, making me extremely happy for being able to chase his dreams. The matching rings Hongjoong and he had on their ring finger were eye-catching to those who didn’t know about their engagement, and it was Hongjoong who proudly announced it to the whole room while Seonghwa flushed and tried not to hide behind Hongjoong despite being taller than his fiancé. It was a sight to behold and I wasn’t surprised to feel Mingi cuddle up into my side and sniff loudly as he watched his friends with a proud smile on his lips, Wooyoung amusingly quiet for once.

When everyone was done appreciating Seonghwa’s efforts and creations, he announced with a cheeky smile that the next time anyone visited, the front lobby would be decorated by other artists’ works, but because I had a special request, tonight my works were displayed in the room adjacent to this. I felt my heart in my throat as Seonghwa led us towards the dark room, then our eyes met and I nodded with a small smile, biting my bottom lip as the light switch was flipped on, coating the room in light. I turned to look at Mingi in anticipation as his eyes widened, and he broke free of the crowd, hurrying inside to take in the entirety of the room, from being incredulous to teary-eyed and then looking like the happiest man on Earth, I couldn’t help it but let my heart swell in happiness and pride as I watched him chuckle and look at me with eyes filled with pure and honest love.

The soft sage green walls were decorated with two portraits of Mingi I had sketched out right at the beginning when I had met him, when I wasn’t so familiar with all of his features yet. Then it progressed to the moments I had captivated as our relationship slowly progressed into that of friendship, us sitting in his car, Mingi driving, Mingi laughing at making me flustered, Mingi’s sharp eyes watching me in a faceless crowd, Mingi up on stage shining like the star he is, Mingi gazing at me with yearning in his eyes, Mingi hugging me warmly into his chest, Mingi chewing on his bottom lip in concentration as he sat in his chair in his studio, working on his music, Mingi looking upset because I rudely disregarded everything that’s happened between us, Mingi angry because I was too stubborn to admit my feelings for him, too afraid to move on from Yunho, and at last, Mingi smiling so widely his eyes disappeared, nose scrunched up and his front teeth showing a little more than usual, pure happiness painting his face.

There was a low murmur amongst the crowd as everyone took in the sketches, drawings, and paintings, but I was only focused on Mingi and his reaction to seeing the stages of our relationship displayed through my eyes, my feelings, and my thoughts. And then, more towards the end of the exposition, there was an old sketch of Yunho I had done while still mulling over the failure of our relationship, and right next to it was a painting of both Yunho and Mingi as they sat next to each other, laughing about whatever was funny at that moment. I had captured the moment when Mingi, me, Yunho, and his girlfriend had gone out for dinner, and then I decided I wanted to paint it twice and gift it to Mingi and Yunho for Christmas. I suppose Mingi would get his sooner than Yunho, I’m sure neither would mind.

Seonghwa announced that I was the artist behind the creations and the room erupted in cheers and claps as people complimented me on my talent, but my eyes were on Mingi only as his blazer was glittery underneath the white light, matching my floor-length glittery black dress. He opened his arms and I didn’t waste any more seconds to approach him and let him crush me in his arms, his embrace warm and reassuring as he pressed his face into my hair, exhaling loudly as I embraced him back just as tightly, closing my eyes as my heart was racing. These past three months I spent next to him had been the best time of my life ever, he made me happier and feel safer than anyone else ever. He helped me get better at controlling my explosive emotions and he helped me slowly break down the walls I so defensively built up after Yunho’s departure. He made me unafraid to love and to receive love, he made me want to spend the rest of my life with him.

I wanted a forever with him.

“I love you, Mingi.” And it was the first time I voiced those thoughts, voice clear but quiet so that only he’d hear it. I felt Mingi freeze, a gasp leaving his mouth as he pulled back, holding me at arm's length as I smiled at him softly, “I love you.”

Mingi gulped as his eyes suddenly turned teary, and he cupped my cheeks as he lowered his head to press his forehead against mine, inhaling deeply as he nodded his head. He’d said those three words to me before, unafraid and unashamed to let me know how he truly felt towards me, and I finally found the courage to say it back. I finally was ready to let him know just how much I felt for him, that I loved him just as much as he loved me.

“I love you, Y/N, so much.” His voice trembled and he kept his eyes closed out of fear of having the tears escape them, and I hummed, resting my hands on his shoulders as I gently rubbed the skin of his neck in an attempt to soothe him.

“I love you just as much, Mingi.”

And he smiled, pressing his warm lips against mine with the unspoken promise that this would last forever, that this was what we both had been searching for. Safety, contentment, honesty, friendship, and freedom, a love that was honest and unafraid. It seemed like our future was rather promising, next to him, I could take on anything. We won’t forget to look at the moon tonight.

I love you, Song Mingi.

A/N: So, hello once again, I am so-so grateful if you made it 'til the end. I cannot believe I'm actually finished with this story and it's a really bittersweet feeling actually, because I am as happy as sad, no joke I kinda cried a little bit. I absolutely love the character and personality I have created for Mingi in this story and I love MC and his dynamic so much, that I find it so freaking hard to let go of them omg, what's happening to me?!

I just really really want to thank everyone who stuck around from start to finish, or from the middle of the story, or showed up as we neared the end of it, I am so so grateful to you all for being patient with me and showering me with love and making me look forward to posting. I was always so excited about a new chapter because I wanted it to be the best, and when I felt like it wasn't, you reassured me that it was and it made me really happy.

I started this story nine months ago, back on the 15th of December, which is funnily enough my sister's birthday so now I will never forget the date I posted it lol, and I find it so freaking crazy that this whole story came from a random brainstorming with my best friend in my car (@orshii), right as we finished our classes at university, brains fried off and ready to end everything, and yet, here I am, trying not to cry again ffs because of how much I grew to love every character in the story.

A little insight: the story at first started out as a random plot that was somewhat similar to 10 Things I Hate About You (which is one of my favorite movies) as Mingi was inspired by Patrick's character and our MC by Kat's, but as time went on, the story and our characters became their own and thus this is how Love Me Like A Rockstar was created. Back at that time I was also obsessed with this song, which played a part in the story becoming a rockstar!au beside Mingi acting like a whole ass rockstar during Crazy Form era lol, and even the title is inspired by the censored version of the song.

I think I made this note already too long, so I'll try to wrap it up. I really want to thank absolutely everyone who reads the whole story, to my loyal readers who were here for every chapter and for all of your thoughts and theories and for making me smile, really. Those who stumbled upon this when it's already finished, I hope you enjoyed each chapter and had fun exploring the world I created (this applies to those too who stuck around while it was still on-going) and I always appreciate your feedback, it's never too late! Thank you everyone, and I hope to see you back for my other stories! <3

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[mint-yooxgi]

Dreamer - Yandere!Vampire!Yeosang

Yandere AU & Vampire AU - First Person POV

Genre: Mature, Smutty Themes, Internal Monologue

Pairing: Yeosang X Implied Chubby!Fem!Reader

Words: 1,771

Warnings: Hunter/Prey dynamics, Invasion of dreams mentioned multiple times, Possessive and sexual thoughts, violence and blood mentioned. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: It's been a while... sorry for the delay in posting things, like I said, life has been crazy! I hope you all enjoy this one, something short and sweet for you all. Dedicating this one to @anyamaris hehehe... As always, Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

The Sixteenth and Final of The Feral Drabbles

The loud chiming of the clock tower rings through my ears, nearly drowning out all other sounds. Golden light filters in through the widows, filling the stone walls with the last rays of the setting sun. If I listen closely, I can still make out the faint sounds of your heavy breaths. You cannot escape me, Starling. No matter where you hide, no matter how far you run, I will always find you.

I don’t know how many times I have told you how futile it is to try and get away from me, but you never seen to want to listen. I’m starting to think you rather enjoy the chase. Something about the imminent danger I pose simply gets your blood thrumming with excitement. I can just tell.

Of course, I could end this all in an instant. I could appear beside you at any given moment. My speed and tracking abilities are unmatched, especially when I have what I want in my sights. Yet, where would the fun be in that? I love listening to your heart race because of me. I love knowing I can make your scent spike suddenly with the slightest of sounds. You can sense me getting closer, can’t you? You know that I always get what I want, and what I want is you.

You smell amazing… Have I said that already? That pungent aroma of fear, permeated with the slightest thrill of excitement. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. After all, I know you better than you know yourself. In time, I’ll show you just how perfect I am for you, just as I know how perfect you are for me.

For months I’ve been studying you. The shadows have always been my friends, but when it comes to you, I am the shadows. All those dark and lonely nights I watched you, longing to be beside you, and finally be able to hold you in my arms. I longed to be able to brush my fingertips over your face, tracing loving patterns into your skin that only I can see. I wish to be there for you, and I so badly want you to be there for me.

Your soul called to me. The scent of your blood intoxicates me. Your laugh enchants me, and your smile sets my long dead heart aflutter. Just the sight of you has brought me back to life in ways I never thought possible, and I will cling to that essence of vitality for as long as we both shall live.

There is no me if there is no you.

Now, if only you could see that.

I’ll admit, knocking you out and bringing you to an unknown location was probably not the best way to properly introduce myself. In my defence though, I did overhear you talking to that one friend of yours about certain particular fantasies you’ve always had. You’ll have to excuse me for jumping the gun. I got too excited, and besides, it’s not like you don’t know me.

For months I’ve been appearing in your dreams. It started out small, just in passing at first. A glance of my face here. A hint of my voice there. You seemed to be reacting positively to me, too! I noticed a few times you seemed to be looking forward to my slight visits. Sometimes, you’d even go so far as to continue searching for me in your mind when I passed by. A fact of which made me happy beyond doubt.

Then came the nightmares.

You’re prone to them, aren’t you? The darkest recesses of your mind which you hide away in the light come creeping out of the shadows to torture you while in your most vulnerable state. They’re relentless, and unforgiving. A hindrance to your livelihood which dulls your shine, and petrifies your strength.

You can see why I couldn’t have that. I vowed to keep you safe, and that will always include keeping you safe from yourself.

Which is why I had to step in. I couldn’t leave you to suffer all alone. Not only could I prove to you how valuable I could be to you in your dreams, but it let me interact with you. Even on a subconscious level, I could tell it was going to benefit me greatly. I could talk to you, protect you, keep you interested…

And interested you were! I can still recall the way your eyes felt raking over my full visage for the first time. I could tell that you liked me, and that only made me know stepping into your subconscious mind was the right thing to do. 

We were finally making progress! You could see me for who I was, and I could finally see you without hiding myself away. I could interact with you on a more personal level, even within a dream. 

Everything I said, everything I did, was real. There’s no question about it. I would never deceive you like that, anyways. You deserve my truth, for it will soon become yours as well.

Those nightmares, though recurring, also let me understand you better. Those monsters stalking your dreams will never be able to hurt you again. I made sure of it. I showed them what a true beast looked like. Though, I will say, feeling their blood drip from my hands after rendering them limb from limb is immensely more satisfying in real life than within any dream your mind can conjure. I only wish I could have inflicted more damage on them while they were still alive…

They didn’t suffer enough. Not after what they all did to you. Nobody hurts you, cheats you, lies to you and gets away with it. No one.

I’ll tear them all to shreds. I’ll rip their pathetic flesh from their bones and feed their mangled corpses to the sea. Hell is a blessing compared to what I have prepared for anyone that crosses you. After all, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you…

Oh, look at me… getting so caught up in my thoughts of you again that I nearly missed the sound of you changing your hiding place. It’s adorable how you think you can get away from me. As if you really want to. Why else would you have ran up the clocktower rather than out into the streets the first chance you got?

What will I get once I finally catch my prize? I’ll finally be able to properly feel your skin beneath my touch. Will you hold onto me as tightly as I’ll be holding onto you? Will you whisper my name so sweetly, granting me a long since desired wish? Or maybe, just maybe…a kiss? 

Oh, how I’ve longed to feel your lips pressed against my own, My Sweet Starling. Ever since that one fateful night, that glorious dream we shared, I’ve been longing to know what you taste like in real life. You’ve already let me touch you once before, now all there’s left to do is make your whole body shake in ecstasy in real life.

I know it was simply a dream, but fuck- I can still hear the way you cried out for me. The way your thighs wrapped around my head as I worshipped you between your legs… as I buried myself deep inside of you… I want to feel it again. This time, I want it to be real.

I want to hear those sinful lips of yours crying out my name. I want to hear you gasp as I sink my fangs into your flesh, and drink my fill of you. I want to feel your nails cutting into my back and pulling me closer because you cannot get enough of me. You already know that I can never get enough of you, and I will always prove that my love for you is true.

Oh, Starling… you’re going to make me moan if you keep smelling like that…

Delectable. Sinful.

…Mine.

Already I can feel my mouth salivating at the thought of catching you. My fangs are nearly pricking my lips. Starling, I don’t know if I can hold myself back for much longer…

I can hear your heart racing nearly in time with mine.

Tell me… are you as excited as I am right now? There’s something about the thrill of the chase, isn’t there? Knowing that I’m hunting you, wanting to catch you and finally make you mine. I swore to you that I meant you no harm, and that fact will always hold true. I will never hurt you. You are mine, and I am yours. That’s how it should be. That’s how it shall always be.

See! I knew you wouldn’t be able to deny me! We’re meant to be!

Look at you trying to be quiet after purposely giving away your location. It’s extremely endearing, you know. Try to hide all you want, but you can never escape the inevitable.

You may be able to lie to yourself, My Glorious Starling, but you cannot lie to me. Like I said before, I know you better than you know yourself. I can smell the excitement pouring off of you. You want me to catch you. I knew you wouldn’t be able to forget all that I’ve done for you in your dreams so easily. After all, my actions have always been, and will always be, as real as I am.

Come out, come out, wherever you are.

The longer I let this go on, the more excited you seem to get. Just listen to your heart racing for me! It’s getting louder with each step, and this time, there’s nowhere you can run. This will be the last place you can ever hide from me. Or rather, should I say, the last place I’ll let you hide from me.

From now on, you’re mine.

Fuck- I haven’t felt this excited in centuries. Do you realize how special you are? My blood feels like it’s lighting a fire within my veins, and my hands are shaking. Do you see the effect you have on me?

And, oh, when I finally get my hands on you…

There will be no part of you untouched - unloved - by me. I plan to spend however long it takes worshipping you and showing you just how loved you are by me. Mentally, physically, spiritually… Nothing is too much for you. You deserve nothing but my best, and my best is what you’ve always deserved. Nothing less.

Tick tock, My Glorious Starling… Your time is up.

[steddiehyperfixation]

so you don't get lost (steddie ficlet)

written for @steddielovemonth day 17 rating: T cw: alcohol tags: first kiss, clubbing, college au, platonic stobin prompt: Love is about a hand reaching out to you so you don't get lost

“She’s totally into me, right?” Robin asks as they wait for their drinks at the bar, her smile a mile wide, and it’s been a minute since Steve’s seen her smile like that. 

“Yeah, totally,” Steve agrees. The girl Robin’s been talking to all night is drifting back over to them even as they speak, the two of them like magnets since they first traded smiles on the dance floor earlier that night. 

Robin glances back at her and bites back a wider grin. She bounces on her tippy toes and whispers to Steve, “If I make out with her it’s not gonna make you feel awkward, is it?” 

Steve shakes his head. “Go ahead,” he encourages. 

It had been a group effort to get Robin out tonight. Her university friends had enlisted Steve to help drag her out of the mopey funk she’d been in since getting broken up with two weeks ago, and it had taken an hour of Steve hyping her up while she kept crying off her attempts to do her makeup before she finally managed to make it to the club. He’s just glad it had been worth it. 

“I don’t even know if I remember how to do this,” Robin mutters, a little nervously, as she and Steve grab their drinks and rejoin her friends on the dance floor. But it turns out, she has nothing to worry about. The two girls resume their orbit around each other, and the second the next beat drops and the lights strobe, the other girl finally pulls Robin into a heated kiss. Steve watches this, and he smiles fondly. She deserves it. He’s happy for her. 

And he’s totally not jealous. Not necessarily of Robin, obviously, or the girl she’s kissing, but simply of the fact that they’ve so easily found a hot drunk stranger to make out with at the club and he…hasn’t. He can’t even remember the last time he’s had a decent kiss, much less scored at a club, though not for not wanting to. 

Steve finds himself glancing at Robin’s friend Eddie, the tatted-up metalhead Steve’s felt a pull towards since the first time they’d met. He thinks about kissing him every time they’re out together, and maybe there was a time when Steve would’ve just gone for it, a time before he’d taken a few too many hits to the ego and developed doubts and insecurities, but now the thought just makes him nervous. Eddie makes him nervous. 

He feels that nervousness now as Eddie catches him staring and he shakes those lovely dark curls out of his face and smiles at him. It bubbles in his stomach, flutters in his chest. Steve downs the rest of his drink and looks away. The alcohol floods heat through his veins and blurs his vision, but the ever-present thrum of anxiety just from being in Eddie’s proximity still isn’t dulled. He bobs numbly to the music, avoiding looking at anybody at all now, only staring at the floor or the wall or some super fascinating point just above everyone’s heads, sure he looks like an absolute freak. 

It goes beyond just wanting to kiss Eddie; Steve’s not stupid, he knows the only explanation for this sheer amount of nervousness he feels around him is that he’s got an actual, proper crush. Because not only is Eddie super fucking hot, he’s also sweet. Steve is an outsider in this group and he knows it, the college dropout who only tags along because Robin insists on it, but Eddie never makes him feel like that. It’s always Eddie who makes sure he’s included in conversations, always Eddie who makes a point to loop Steve into the context of inside jokes and stories whenever Robin is too distracted to. Steve craves those interactions, gets a thrill every time Eddie so much as speaks to him. So he doesn’t only want to kiss him, he also just wants Eddie to like him, wants him to see him as a friend at the very least. But it’s not like they’ve ever even hung out outside of a group setting, and sometimes Steve fears Eddie’s just being nice and he doesn’t actually see him as anything at all. 

Steve’s drifted so far into his own head he doesn’t realize his group is on the move, pushing deeper into the dance floor and leaving him behind. 

“Steve!” Eddie’s voice calls out to him and snaps him out of it. Everyone else has been taken by the crowd, but Eddie hangs back, reaching his hand out to Steve. 

Steve takes it, swallowing down the way his heart pounds as Eddie’s fingers curl around his hand. Eddie pulls him through the throng of jostling, sweaty bodies, and even though he maintains a tight grip on Steve’s hand, he still keeps looking back at him like he’s making extra sure Steve doesn’t get lost. Warmth blooms in Steve’s chest. Maybe he’s just drunk, maybe he’s just delusional, but all of the sudden he feels so very very cared for. 

“Thanks,” Steve says, nearly shouting to be heard over the music. 

“‘Course.” Eddie smiles as he turns around to face him. They’ve caught up to their friends now, but he’s still holding Steve’s hand. “I’d never just leave you stranded.” 

Of course he wouldn’t. He never has before. Steve just smiles back and squeezes Eddie’s hand. 

They’ve only just let go of each other when Robin and her girl, still kissing clumsily and staggering about the dance floor, stumble straight into Steve and knock him off balance. “Woah!” Eddie reaches for him again instantly, looping an arm around Steve’s waist to keep him from toppling over or careening into the crowd. 

“Ah! Sorry!” Robin giggles before she’s whisked away again. 

Eddie laughs. “Good for her, right?” 

“Yeah, good for her,” Steve says, watching his best friend spin out of sight, and when he looks back he startles at how close he and Eddie are, suddenly very aware of Eddie’s arm around his waist and his hands on Eddie’s chest. 

“You okay?” Eddie asks, his grip on Steve tightening like he means to steady him. 

“Yeah, thanks again.” Steve regains his footing, but he doesn’t pull away. There’s something there, he thinks, in the way Eddie’s always reaching out to him so he doesn’t get lost, literally and figuratively, in crowds and conversations. It could just be friendly, it could just be nothing, but for the first time, Steve lets himself hope. He even thinks about leaning in right now, but then he thinks about it too much, and he doesn’t. 

Instead, there’s a weird moment where they’re both just staring at each other. Eddie’s got this confused little smile on his face like he’s waiting to see what Steve will do, and when Steve doesn’t do anything, Eddie’s smile abruptly becomes more playful as if he’s trying to break the tension, and he starts theatrically swaying them to the music, even though it is most definitely not the swaying sort of beat. Steve laughs, his racing heart making it come out giddy and giggly, especially when Eddie drops his waist to grab his hand and twirl him around. 

Eddie pulls him in close again then, and this time Steve doesn’t think at all. In fact, it’s unclear which one of them leans in first; all Steve knows is that their lips finally, finally meet in the middle and he finally, finally gets to tangle his hands in Eddie’s hair, and it’s sweet and it’s hungry and it’s absolutely perfect. Steve holds onto Eddie and he gets lost in him. 

When Steve meets back up with Robin outside after the club closes, they exchange a celebratory, congratulatory high five, the both of them with matching kiss-swollen lips and dates set for next week. 

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 34

part 1 | part 33 | ao3

Steve ducks his head against the flurries falling outside The Hideout as he makes his way for the entrance and tries really, really hard to not to feel totally out of place.

He agreed to meet Robin and her friends here separately because he was coming straight from a shift, but he’s kind of regretting that now. The only black thing he had in his wardrobe that was at all weather appropriate was a tight-fitting black knit pullover with a high collar and a silver zipper down the front, and he feels like some dorky, supportive golf dad coming to cheer on his rebellious son after a long day out on the green. The light wash jeans and silver wristwatch aren’t really helping matters.

Jesus. He should have let Robin dress him.

The guy at the ticket counter seems to agree because he gives Steve a weird look when he approaches and asks, “Are you lost?”

“Uh, no.” And if it comes out slightly more bitchy than he intended, well—

“Five dollars,” the guy scowls.

Strike that. Maybe it didn’t come out nearly bitchy enough. “The flyer says it’s two.”

The guy eyes him up with a tight, sarcastic smile and pops his chewing gum. “For you it’s five.”

Oh, my god. Operation Woo Your Man might be dead before it starts, because Steve’s about to smash the ticket booth window and pummel this fucking guy.

“I already got yours!” Robin calls brightly, jogging up behind him on the sidewalk and waving a lime green wristband. “He’s good,” she tells the guy, then tells Steve, “Eddie said to give you this.”

Ticket guy frowns, and Steve gloats as Robin fixes the bracelet to his wrist. Yeah, buddy, you heard that right; I'm with the band.

Robin drags him into the bar, and he stops her just inside the door, hugging her tight enough to lift her up on tiptoe, smacking a kiss to the side of her head. He jostles her around until something in her neck pops, and when he lets her go she groans, “Oh, my god, do that again.”

She spins around, crossing her arms over her chest. Steve grabs her by the elbows; shakes her like a piggy bank until her spine goes crack-crack-crack.

“Wow,” she sighs dreamily when he sets her down. “Marry me.”

“You can’t just marry me for my massage services.”

“I know; it’s tragic. Anyway, come on.” She takes his hand. “Everyone’s already at the table.”

“Who’s everyone?”

Robin doesn’t answer — probably can’t hear him over the loud rock music pouring through the speakers — but she weaves them through the venue, skirting the edge of the main floor.

Steve’s never actually been in here, but it’s pretty much what he expected: black walls, black floor, black leather jackets on the handful of regulars. The stage is off to their left, already set up with Eddie’s band’s gear by the looks of it, though he doesn’t see them anywhere. Must be backstage getting ready.

In front of the stage is a small, empty dance floor, flanked by rickety tables with mismatched chairs, and overhead there’s a balcony with a sound booth and more seats. To their right, the main bar: a long, ancient dark wood counter that’s been graffitied to absolute shit, covered in band stickers and beer labels and ‘so and so wuz here’s, and just up ahead, lining the far wall, Steve spots a row of wraparound booths.

Dark red leather, the stuffing spilling out through time-worn splits. Only one of them is occupied. Steve can’t make out much from this distance beyond the vague shape of the people sitting there, but considering it’s the only table with any chicks at it, he figures that’s their group.

Suddenly, Robin stops. Turns around to look at him; drops his hand and bites her lip. “Okay, so. Don’t get mad…”

Steve narrows his eyes. He knows that guilty grimace. Whatever it is, he’s definitely about to get mad about it, or at very least annoyed. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Robin.”

“Okay!” She steps to the side, and he marches toward the table to try and get a better view, Robin trailing after him, rambling, “For the record, I really didn’t do it, I swear! But, like— well, Beth is friends with Fred, and Fred is on the school paper, so I guess he just—”

The details shift into focus: tiny frame, rigid posture. Big, curly dark brown hair.

Oh, son of a bitch. No. No.

Nancy Wheeler’s here.

—

part 35

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[armandisdaddy]

Arrogance (Modern Au!)

(Daemon Targaryen x Fem Reader)

(Content/ Warning: 18 +, Age-gap, cheating, angst, swearing, violence, avoidance, p in v penetration, sexual innuendos, cat and mouse.)

(Summary: After finding out your boyfriend and best friend have been screwing behind your back you find comfort in the one person you cannot stand…there won’t be any sex in this chapter. But it’s coming…)

Chapter One

Today was you and your boyfriend Aemond’s third anniversary. You enjoyed the three years you spent with him and even the thoughts of marriage and children bounced around your mind. Things weren’t perfect but beyond everything you were still “happy”. Today your best friend Alys was throwing a party in your honor. You were getting ready deciding on a dark green dress that hugged you just right and stopped just above you knees and two slits that came up either side. You looked amazing and you knew your man was going to love seeing you in it. You both showed up together looking like the perfect couple everything was going smoothly as everyone clapped or the both of you and your best friend was there to greet you. She gave you both a hug. “Oh my god’s y/n…you look amazing.” She gushed over you as she past you a drink.

The night was perfect and you and Aemond danced the night away along with a few of your other friends. You had a few drinks and the liquor was starting to set in when you notice your best friend and your boyfriend were no where to be found. You shrugged it off not thinking about it too much and then you realized you had to pee. Stumbling into the bathroom you heard a couple enjoying themselves in the stall next to yours and for a moment you cheered them on until you recognized the man’s voice that was echoing off the walls. You’re heart started to pound and your head was spinning so you leaned over to see the shoes that were planted on the floor it was Aemond’s dress shoes and Alys’s dress pooled on the floor. Being as drunk as you are you gasped and finally your presence was noticed. “Oh fuck…y/n..” Aemond said and you quickly got the fuck out of there. Running and sobbing Aemond was fixing himself tailing after you and so was Alys. Everyone saw it all and as you can suspect the party was over you were in your car too drunk to move it but you sobbed with your head pressed against the steering wheel. Aemond and Alys had been begging you to let them in so they could gaslight you into thinking you imagined what you heard and saw but after the first three attempts didn’t work they started going at each other yelling and cursing.

Your eyes were hot from all of the crying and your head pounded profusely from the pressure. You noticed that it finally got quiet they had decided to leave. “Thank the seven.” But you were yet again disturbed by a knock on your car window. This time it wasn’t Aemond or Alys it was his uncle Daemon. You were surprised to see him of all people at your car checking on you. He made it quite clear the first time he met you that he wasn’t too fond of you and after that you kept your distance. You let your window down a bit. “What do you want?” He wasn’t he usual arrogant self. His eyes were soft while he looked at you and finally he spoke. “Do you need a lift? You’re too drunk to drive.” You wanted him to say something snarky so you could come back with some witty comeback but he didn’t. “Yeah…I guess I do..” Stepping out you left the keys to Aemond’s porche inside it It didn’t matter at this point if someone stole it good for them you thought. “So where do you want to go?” He asked and you started to cry again realizing you couldn’t go back to the apartment you shared with Aemond and you could even go to your best friend’s place. “Hey hey…look you can come to my house I have a room you can sleep in yeah? Does that sound good?” You nodded still sniffling softly…, “Why are you helping me? I thought you didn’t like me..” He sighed and shrugged the question off, “Don’t worry about that right now. Let’s just get you somewhere warm.”

Pulling up to his house you had never seen it before but it was goregous…and of course it was he’s a Targaryen. He was holding your heels for you as you walked in and quickly led you to the room you’d be sleeping in. “There is a bathroom in this room if you wish to take a shower or bath.” His eyes were wandering a bit…You did look amazing in that dress… showing off just the right amount of skin… he shook himself from his thought. “If you need a change of clothes I can get you one of my shirts and some sweats.” You nodded softly and took down your hair. He left for a moment and came back in with your clothes for the night. “Daemon…can you help me unzip my dress?” He nodded and you could feel the warmth of his hands on your back. Slowly sliding down your spin as he unzipped the dress stopping just above your ass. He cleared his throat and left soon after. You took a quick shower washing away everything away. You cried in the shower and even in the bed not getting a wink of sleep. By the time you finally passed out Daemon was waking you up with breakfast. “Come on sunshine I’ve got pancakes waiting in the kitchen for you.” You were groggy and irritated; your head was stilling pounding as if someone was tap dancing on your head. Daemon smiled seeing you in your natural element passing you your plate. You weren’t in the mood to eat but he stared you down and didn’t touch his food until you took a few bites.

“Could you possibly find your own place in a few days? I’ll be happy to help you get your things today and you can keep them here until you do.” You sighed and took a sip of your coffee he had ready for you., “No…I just finished college…and needed to start looking for a job…Aemond handled everything.” He hummed drinking his coffee and finishing his plate. “Alright, well I needed a new assistant anyway so you will be working for me. You will atleast need a month to get on your feet and be on your way yes?” You were still very confused. “I mean thanks for the job but why are you helping me…remember you said you thought I was a cunt…” He chuckled remembering the day he met you. “Yes I did say that well honestly I thought if I had ran you off you would be saved from the cunt…my nephew that is.” You scoffed, “Don’t you think “he’s not a good guy” would’ve been more affective.”, he smiled, “Yeah you’re right…I just wanted to be a bit of a dick I guess. Well, the weekend is over so your first day is tomorrow. Let’s go ahead and get your stuff.”

It took about 30 minutes for the two of you to get to what was soon to be your old apartment. You were met at the entrance with all of your stuff on the sidewalk with a small note it saying trash…mostly everything you had of any value was ruined. Now this pissed Daemon off and he went up there to have a small chat with his darling nephew. You were still trying to pick through things and fighting back tears when Daemon pulled you back to the car. “Daemon…my stuff.” He groaned in a low tone, “I will get you new stuff don’t worry about it. I’m cooking dinner and we’re getting drunk tonight.” He knew this was what you needed after all this so he made a five star dinner for the two of you and paired it with some fancy red wine. “Listen y/n I know you and I aren’t the best of friends right now and I know you’re going through a lot so I’m trying to give you a helping hand. From what I understand you are a very self sufficient young woman. My brother was considering giving you a position with our company if you didn’t know so I’m making the call to put you on our team also because I know it’s going to pissed Aemond off to have to see flaunting in and out of my office every day. So do not disappoint me, understand?” You nodded and without another word you toasted to a wonderful working relationship together. The food was delicious you had no idea Daemon had so many hidden talents…interesting. After dinner Daemon offered to watch movies with you and obliged. The wine was flowing and he had made popcorn. You two were watching comedies to keep your spirits up and you ended up leaning on his shoulder which he moved away from but he ended up letting you nuzzle into him. He enjoyed this more than he’d like to admit but quickly his mind was taken from such a sentimental moment when your hand started to wander and it all seemed so innocent your hand was laying on his thigh then it eased up his chest. His breath hitched within his chest and he looked over at you only to see you looking right at him he chuckled nervously and moved your hand. “If I’m being honest y/n I’d enjoy fucking you into oblivion…but I uhhh…believe it or not I don’t like taking advantage of women especially you. Maybe we should go to bed we have a long day tomorrow with it being your first day and all.”, you sigh softly a bit hurt by the rejection but he wasn’t wrong you were very vulnerable right now and you appreciated his honesty nonetheless. The next day was the beginning of an interesting work life with Daemon. You were awakened by him he was acting as your own personal alarm. It was five in the fucking morning. “Why the fuck are we up so early the office doesn’t open until nine?”, He laughed placing her work clothes on the bed neatly. “Well, I usually go for a morning run before work so I figured you’d go with me to keep your mind off of that cunt of an ex boyfriend of yours. Especially since you will be seeing him a lot more these days.”, your groggy face twisted into a grimace. “I forgot he works in the family business fuck…me…great. I’m not going on a run today. I’ll be getting ready and I’ll make breakfast for you, deal?”, you held your hand out and he hadn’t experienced your cooking yet, but he figured what could it hurt so he shook on it.

You took a well needed shower did a simple make up look with lashes, lip liner, and lip gloss. You made bacon, eggs, and waffles for Daemon and decided to look at the outfit he had left out. A rather sexy secretary ensemble for you to wear a white button up with half sleeves, a tight pencil skirt, black panty hose, and black heels. You didn’t know what to do with your hair so you pinned it up. By the time you were ready Daemon had already arrived and was in the shower. While you waited at the door he approached you with his white tresses slicked back and a suite tailored just for him. You were taken aback at how well he cleaned up and he was speechless seeing how well everything fit on you. This was going to be harder than he thought., “You look nice.” He said rather plainly trying to hide what he was really thinking. You nodded in thanks and now you both were out the door getting into his car. The ride wasn’t very long but by the time you pulled up it was about eight-thirty. “Perfect timing. I can show you around and get you in the loop before we get busy.”, He spoke in an elated tone.

You had only been in this place once, you had forgotten just how humongous it was inside. It was as if you were seeing it all over again. Your new boss was showing you around giving you a quick tour of where to find the coffee maker, printers, bathrooms, and now his office. Your desk was right next to the entrance of his office and you placed down your things. “So y/n I know this is all new to you so I won’t be to harsh, but I will be stern and mistakes can be made but not too many will be tolerated, understand?” You nodded quickly and he sent you off to get coffee. The doors were open and everyone was rolling in. And of course the first person you see was a familiar one. Aemond but he had a black eye and a busted lip…was this the result of the conversation his uncle had with him. You were certain it was and while you waited to use the keurig Aemond finally noticed you. He was at a loss for words seeing you here and looking as good as you did. “Y/n what are you doing here?” You decided to ignore him as if he wasn’t even there. You made Daemon’s coffee and went back to your wing of the building and Aemond followed until he realized who you were working for. He was fuming when he stormed into his office. “Why the fuck is she here? I know you don’t care for me that much, but after what just happened you want her to work here.”, Daemon spoke it a rather conniving tone, “Your father, my brother planned on extending a job offer to her and you knew this already. So you think just because you fucked up by screwing her bestfriend that we were going to leave her assed out after all she’s had to deal with being with you? You are highly mistaken, Aemond. If this is all you came to speak to me about you can get back to work. I need my assistant in here to help me with a few things.” Aemond huffed in irritation and left to go speak to Viserys.

Daemon called you into his office and you quickly entered. “You alright?”, He asked and you sighed holding back tears. “Listen it will get easier don’t worry about that bastard. If anything seeing him squirm should be fun.”, You smiled. “You know I never thought of it that way.”

to be continued…

They make quite the conniving pair don’t they..?

[ashisgreedy]

Theo Nott x F!Reader "Revved"

Modern AU Biker!Theo

Tags: SMUT 18+ MDNI | Established Relationship | Forced Orgasm/Made to Cum | Multi O’s | Overstimulation | F!Penetration | Motorcycle Stimulation/Sex | Outdoor Sex | Oneshot | Chars over 21+ |

A|N: At the end

WC: 3272

Sum: Her Biker boyfriend, Theodore, takes her on a ride on his motorcycle. However, the bike feels a bit too good… making her feel all kinds of pleasure as they race down the winding roads.

She rapidly swipes an extra coat of mascara on her lashes upon hearing a knock on the door. She tosses the tube back in her makeup bag and gives herself a final once-over in the mirror.

A more insistent knock echoes just as she approaches the door.

“I’m coming!” She shouts, checking out the peephole to make sure it’s who she thinks it is.

She recognizes his messy brown waves and his signature sunglasses. Throwing open the door, she pulls him in for a hug. “Hey!”

Theo smiles as he hugs her tight. “Hey, bella.” He holds his motorcycle helmet in one hand and wraps his free arm tight around her waist. “Are you ready to go?” He looks down at her as he rubs her lower back

“Yeah, let me just grab my helmet and we can be off.”

The two share a quick kiss before she reaches for the helmet on the coffee table in her living room. His smile lingers a touch longer than usual, prompting her to narrow her eyes in suspicion.

“You’re earlier than you said you’d be.” Her gaze slides to him after glancing at the clock on the wall.

“No traffic.” Theo returns the look.

Holding her helmet, an exact match to the one Theo is clutching—a gift from him on their last anniversary—she leads him out the door.

“What’s that look on your face?” She tries to see his blue eyes beyond the dark sunglasses. His smirk grew the closer they got to his bike.

“What look? I always look like this.” He chews the gum in his mouth to one side.

She knew him well enough to know something was up. “What’s going on, Theo? What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” He puts on his helmet, hiding the grin he’s sporting. “I can’t be happy to see my girl?”

She narrows her eyes again before putting on her own helmet. Theo climbs onto his bike and waits for her to do the same.

“I suppose…” She's only halfway convinced. Despite that, she decides to let it go for the moment, fully aware that she'll revisit the topic later, perhaps after their first pit stop.

Silently, he waits for her to mount his bike. It's a routine they've repeated a dozen times, exploring the city and venturing into the mountains together. The scenery never fails to amaze her, and the sheer excitement of speeding down the road with the wind in her hair never loses its thrill.

Theo glances back, keeping a watchful eye to ensure she doesn't struggle while swinging her leg over the bike. Earlier, he had suggested she wear a flowy skirt for their evening ride. It was normal for him to request certain clothing items from her. However, as she attempts to arrange the ends of the fabric under her legs on the seat, she's already regretting the choice. The skirt proved to be a bit of a challenge for a motorcycle ride. Mindful of avoiding any unintentional flashing to passers-by, she took her time ensuring every part was neatly tucked in.

Theo was patient and waited for her to tap his shoulder to indicate she was ready since the helmet muffled her voice.

Tonight's plan was to take a ride along the meandering roads leading toward the mountains just as the sun began to set. It had been some time since they last took this route, and she was excited to see the breathtaking views again.

Once satisfied with her modesty, she tapped his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Theo braced the bike and the engine roared to life. Nestling her face into his black leather jacket, she inhaled the familiar oaky fragrance that mingled with the metallic scent of the open air, creating a comforting warmth in her chest. With her knees snug against the back of his jean-clad thighs, she readied herself for acceleration.

A thunderous rev echoed as he zoomed down the street, sending her heart racing with adrenaline. She smiled wide from ear to ear as he picked up speed.

In the blink of an eye, her neighborhood vanished, and they found themselves on the expansive open road. The sky painted in hues of blues, oranges, and pinks washed over the landscape. He took a right turn and then they were off on the long stretch toward the mountains where he picked up speed.

She held on to him tight, keeping her weight on the bike's center. Her hands idly rubbed his chest while she enjoyed the surrounding scenery—countless trees and valleys on one side and massive mountains on the other.

At a red light, Theo reached up to his chest, gently intertwining his fingers with hers. Hugging him from behind, she showed her affection through 'I love you' squeezes. He reciprocated, squeezing her hand in return.

They entered the mountain roads, speeding past forests and lesser-known hiking trails, with no car in sight for miles. It was nice getting away from it all, leaving behind the stresses of the week as they sped past streetlights gradually illuminating their path.

Beneath her, the bike hummed pleasantly, the absence of her usual thick denim pants allowing her to feel the vibrations more intimately. Then Theo revved the engine, and the sensation escalated to something pleasurable. The vibrations surged through her like an electric current, causing a blush to creep across her cheeks.

The only thing between her clit and the seat was her cotton panties. She breathed through it and tried to relax against his back.

The engine revved higher and her fingers dug into his chest. She held him in a vice grip and shifted in her seat. The bike wavered and Theo turned his head for a moment to look back at her. He quickly moved his gaze to the road and continued the ride.

The bike seat’s vibration felt even more incredible. She shifted minutely, trying not to make the bike come unbalanced but the assault on her clit was becoming too much.

He sped off down the mountain road, but she wasn’t paying attention to the beautiful scenery anymore.

Her legs were shaking and her stomach muscles clenched as shockwaves rippled through her core. The orgasm hit her like a bus. She gasped and clung to Theo, fighting the urge not to rock her hips for some delicious added friction.

The pleasant release was quickly thwarted when the bike's unrelenting vibrations assaulted her now oversensitive clit.

She couldn’t stop the moans that escaped her as another orgasm was pulled from her. Her thighs clamped down on the bike as her body pulsed. Her cries of pleasure were audible in the wind as one orgasm melted into another and another.

The seat and her panties were soaked from the wetness making it harder to stay on. She felt herself sliding, but the death grip she had on Theodore kept her centered.

She must have been knocking the air out of his lungs with the strength of her grip but there had been no reaction from him at all, even when she screamed in pleasure.

The vibrations changed slightly giving her a break from the strong ones she’d been accosted with, and the orgasms finally stopped. She was sweating and gasping for breath.

She smacked his chest and could feel his body rumble with laughter. She smacked him again and he revved the engine higher and, oh, fuck… he was doing this on purpose.

Her clit throbbed to the point of pain as her body responded to the higher vibrations. She was on the brink of madness as more orgasms piled on top of one another.

She started paying attention to her surroundings again when the bike began to slow, striking gravel. Her panting was more audible without the motorcycle engine and wind whipping past to drown her out. Rapid breaths fogged the visor of her helmet.

The bike came to a stop on the side of the road next to an impressive view of the mountains and forested valley below.

She was limp against his back as the bike came to a halt. Small tremors ran through her body with every breath she took. He cut off the bike but her body hummed with the ghost of the intense vibrations.

Theo waited a moment before carefully peeling her hand off his chest. The kickstand came down and he slid off the bike. Removing his helmet revealed his messy brown waves. He spit out his gum onto the gravel and set the helmet down carefully.

As he walked around to her, he wore a shit-eating grin.

She glared at him, but it wasn’t effective with the helmet on her head. She yanked it off and Theo carefully took it from her, setting it on the ground next to his.

Her hair was a mess sticking to her sweaty forehead, her cheeks sporting a deep red blush, and her lips plump and swollen from biting them.

“You did that on purpose!” She spat, placing her hands in front of her on the seat to hold herself up.

He lifted his brows with a smirk.

“How many times?” Theo asked in a cool tone.

“What!?” She huffed, still glaring at her boyfriend.

"How many times did you cum on my bike? How many?" He took off his sunglasses and hooked them in his back pocket. He wouldn’t need them again tonight as the sun was setting. She could see the spark of excitement in his eyes.

"I…. I don't know.." she adjusted in the seat and felt how slick it was.

She was in a state and wanted him to be just as much of a frazzled mess as she was.

Her legs were like jelly as she tried to stand. She would not be embarrassed by the wetness she left on the seat, she refused.

Before she could get off the bike, Theo crouched down and looked at her at eye level.

His eyes looked almost predatory as his finger slid over her bare thigh. Her skin ignited with his touch as he moved up and up, pushing her skirt the farther he went.

She could feel the slickness all over her thighs and knew her panties were absolutely done for.

“How many?” His tone was serious, sending shivers down her spine.

She held her breath as his fingers reached the soaked fabric. He pushed where her clit was and her body jerked.

“I-I don’t know! …I lost count.” She trembled under his touch and gaze.

He hummed and a small smile tugged at his lips.

“Get off the bike, amore mio.” He raked his hand through his messy hair as he stood and waited for her.

She tried again but her legs were trembling so much it took her a moment. Her skirt was sticking to her thighs and she looked a mess.

Theo helped her, placing his hand on her waist and guiding her off the bike. Her feet slid on the gravel as he pulled her against his body.

“You made a mess of my seat.” His lips twitched in a smirk.

It was very obvious just how much of a mess she’d made thanks to the state of the dehydrated leather.

The world tilted and her chest was pressed down to the wet seat, ass in the air. She braced her hands on the bike to hold herself up.

Theo flipped up her skirt and tugged her panties down to her ankles. Then his mouth was on her and she gasped. He licked her wet slit eagerly, pushing her thighs apart to go deeper, to lick more of her. He latched his lips on her clit and he sucked hard.

She fell apart, legs trembling as she gasped his name. She ached, but the release by his toungue was well worth it.

He lapped at her until she was soaked anew, making her aching cunt quiver. She was a blubbering mess, writhing in the firm grip he had on her thighs. She hissed as he dug his fingers into her leg, pressing harder, keeping her in place. He held her apart and ate her out more lively than she’d ever seen.

Theo moaned against her pussy and she arched her back. His tongue felt like sin and she couldn’t form words.

"The way you taste…" Theo didn't comment further. He just hummed a satisfied sound.

A cool burst of air struck her dripping heat and she groaned at the loss of his mouth.

She faintly heard the sound of a zipper over her own hysterics. Then the thick head of his cock pressed against her wet aching hole and her whimpering became begging.

“Oh! Yes, please!”

“Gods,” He murmured

Theo pressed in and the blunt head of his cock popped inside her tight entry.

He took far too long to press his cock into her. She wanted to be filled, she was begging for it, dammit!

He sucked in a breath and grabbed her hips firmly. He pulled her body, forcing her to take him to the hilt as he stood completely still.

It was a snug fit and he waited a moment, lightly rocking his hips while her body accommodated him. Her feet slid on the gravel trying to find purchase.

Theo angled himself and then struck that one spot that counted. He wasn’t gentle with her, his thrusts were hard and fast as his fingers dug into her hips.

“I have every intention of fucking you until you scream.” His voice was gruff as he slammed home over and over.

She knew what he was capable of. He would absolutely fuck her until nothing else existed but his hand digging into her hips, his cock filling her pussy, and her voice horse from screaming in pleasure.

Thank fuck they were in the middle of nowhere on a lesser-known road. She wasn’t capable of caring a single bit if a van full of camera-caring tourists drove by at this moment and watched. She wasn’t herself and neither was Theo. He fucked her primally, rough and hard.

She had no idea how the strength of his thrusts hadn’t tipped over the bike, she certainly wasn't helping matters. Her walls fluttered with the relentless pleasure and Theo hissed. She could feel it… she was right there yet again.

“Cum,” He growled. He panted as he yanked her hips back in tune with his thrusts.

It was like a switch was flipped and she was flying, screaming, cuming so fucking hard around his cock. Her whole body shook from the force of the orgasm, the bike and Theo’s vice grip being the only things to keep her upright as he continued to fuck her.

His strokes were long and gentle as she rode out the last of her climax. She was almost sobbing, moaning in pleasure, and feeling the pain of just how overworked her poor pelvic muscles were. She was going to be sore for days.

She whimpered, catching her breath, and finally looked up to see the gorgeous view before them. Gods, she wished she cared, she really did, but he was picking up speed again. The wet sounds of skin on skin and her cries echoing were the only noises around.

She pressed her forehead to the seat and hung on for dear life. He pulled her hips to meet his thrusts and she was grateful. Her legs were so weak, there was no possible way she could do it on her own. She lived for the soft grunts that escaped him, his small moans and heavy breaths as he used her body to seek his own pleasure.

He squeezed her hips again, digging his fingers in hard. She couldn’t possibly cum again, but he reached around and started teasing her clit, and… fine! She guessed she could cum again, and, gods, it hurt so fucking good.

Her vision went blurry and her eyes filled with actual tears.

Theo's grasp tightened one final time, his hips meeting hers with a resounding slap. A moan escaped him, and he pressed his chest against her back, his heart racing as he gently rocked his hips.

Tears fell from her eyes and she tried wiping them off on her sleeve. It was too much from the start. All that was left of her mind was a ball of mush.

He panted into her hair as he caught his breath. Her heart pounded against the seat, blood rushing and throbbing behind her eardrums.

Finally, Theo released his bruising grip from her hips and rested his forearms on the seat, caging her in with his arms.

A quiet moment passed over them as they caught their breath. Theo began leaving soft kisses all over the back of her neck. He nipped behind her ear, making her tremble once again.

Wetness started cooling on her thighs as they settled there. She wanted nothing more than to be back at home in her bed with him, curled up and falling asleep in his arms.

Theo exhaled and stood up, pulling out of her more carefully than usual. She nearly fell to her knees but he caught her. He chuckled, pulling her close, his arm wrapping around her waist as he glanced down at her. His chest rose and fell rapidly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

She adored the way his brown waves clung to his forehead, and his cheeks displayed a delightful rosy hue. While he wasn't as disheveled as she was, it was still satisfying to see.

“Think you can survive the ride back?” He gently kissed her forehead.

“Do NOT do that thing again!”

He laughed and picked up her helmet off the gravel. “Fine, fine.” He smirked.

“How did you even figure something like that out!?” She took her helmet from him.

“One of the guys mentioned that a bike could rev at just the right frequency for-”

“Okay, okay,” She cut him off. Of course it was his friends. They were always giving him the most insane advice. She glared at him for good measure before putting her helmet back on, making sure it was the last thing he saw.

He threw her a rag from his back pocket for her to clean herself, then picked up her panties from the ground, swiftly tucking them into his jacket pocket.

Theo smiled wider and kissed the forehead portion of her helmet before placing his back on.

“…So romantic,” She said in a monotone voice, taking the rag to her thighs then to the seat.

He observed as she cleaned up, resting his arms on the bike handles before pointing to her inner thigh. “Missed a spot.”

She smacked his arm away. “Start the bike, Asshole!”

His laugh rumbled from under the helmet, then the bike roared to life.

.

.

.

A|N: I like how the first words she says are the entire theme of the fic. That was a total accident.

Thank you for reading!

If you recognize the story, I wrote this for Seb a while back as well. It’s also inspired by a fic I read 5 years ago.

[periwinklemoonlight]

little sunshine ⋆ boatem knights au

my second short story set in bee @applestruda 's boatem knights au and canon to the plot written by zera @hopepetal !! also make sure to check out bee's bkau gem and etho designs <3 !

cw: decapitation, murder, blood

if you prefer, you can read it on ao3!

⋆⋆⋆

“-And you’re sure this is the man responsible?” The room was spacious, more than big enough for hundreds to fit in, yet the tension in the air filled it with an undeniably claustrophobic atmosphere. Precious artefacts lined the walls and occupied the floors, meticulously positioned in a perfect pattern to suit the path of a would-be museum goer. Now, however, one was missing. And only the most ancient and irreplaceable of the lot, of course.

“Completely.” An odd chill ran up the spine of the curator as she spoke. It shouldn’t have been possible, she thought, she had barely taken her eyes off of that corner of the room for a second before the amulet had vanished into thin air. All she had caught a glimpse of in the aftermath, she was sure of, was a man with stark white hair and a mask darker than the deepest night sky, fleeing the scene with a swiftness she could only ascribe to a seasoned thief.

She had only ever seen that man once before, yet something in her gut was absolutely sure it was him. A few years back, she had stayed at an inn just out of town on a business trip. Her stay had been all-around pleasant, the owner undoubtedly a delight to talk to, full of cheerful stories and helpful advice for travel. The same couldn't've been said for their companion, however. 

He had brooded in the corner of the inn, shooting her occasional unreadable glances as she conversed with the owner, any emotion beyond ice cold eyes concealed by a mask of blackest night. His back to the wall, practically blending in with the shadows around him, she had nearly cancelled her stay the minute she spotted him. 

The only thing that had convinced her to stay despite her better judgement was the owner’s utmost insistence that that man was nothing to fear, that she’d be completely and utterly safe at the inn. Something in their tone had been so, so earnest, she couldn’t help but be inclined to believe them. They were right, she had been entirely safe after all, yet she never could quite shake the cold chill that permeated her body every time the man passed her by. 

“Then it seems we’ve got a bounty on our hands.” The guard concluded with a severe nod.

“Bounty, you say?” A cheery voice asked from across the room. The curator whipped her head around to watch as polished hooves clicked onto the museum flooring. 

“How did you-?” The curator asked, before cutting herself off to fully take in the person before her. There stood Gemini Tay, adorned in finely crafted emerald silks and lightweight armour, wild red hair expertly contained in a sweeping braid, and absolutely armed to the teeth in various weapons hanging lazily across her waist. It wasn’t a bad look for the most notorious bounty hunter in the land, all things considered.

“Word gets around,” Gem replied with a grin, absentmindedly twirling an intricately carved knife in her hand as she approached. “And I’m always down to lend a helping hand!”

She paused, then eyed the curator’s own ostentatious outfit. “...For a fair price, of course.”

“Of course,” The curator repeated, a keen smile worming its way to her face. 

⋆⋆⋆

If there was one thing she relished in being known for, it was that once she had her target in her sights, Gem wasted no time.

It wasn’t hard to spot him, after all. The description the curator had given her was one of the most interesting she’d gotten in a while. A man known only as “Etho”, with a harsh red scar blinding him in one eye and never once seen without a dark mask obscuring half his face. During her journey, Gem had learned that nobody in the area could quite recall when he’d started working at the inn, or even if he actually worked there at all. In fact, it was a popular local rumour that the man was simply a vagrant that the kind innkeeper had taken pity on during one particularly frigid winter and never thought to kick out afterwards.

Regardless of whatever his backstory might have been, Gem couldn’t really care less. All she really cared to know about him was that he was the only thing standing between her and a ludicrously lavish payout. 

It was only a lucky coincidence that the innkeeper wasn’t in when she arrived. There was her target, standing far too nonchalantly behind the counter and looking as if he was preparing to greet her. She wasn’t about to give him the chance. Instantly she swung at him, hard and fast, looking to get a clean kill. To her astonishment, however, he suddenly disappeared within a blink of an eye, reappearing once more just as fast and now on top of the counter. Gem watched as a dark, smoky substance wafted off him as he jumped down and dissipated as quickly as it appeared. 

When she looked at Etho now, it was as if he were slightly transparent, blurred at the edges. She blinked, and he was whole again, no trace of anything amiss. She growled and swung again with impossible force, heaving as her sword broke the floorboards where it landed. Again, she could have sworn that some dark substance was following him, aiding him in his escape. 

“Hey, hey! I don’t know what I did but, uh, I’m sure we can settle this some other way?” Etho offered as he slid backwards on the wooden floors like they were an ice rink, smoke trailing off him and weaving through the air. 

“No can do sir!” Gem replied as she swung once more, again missing him by a fraction of a centimetre. “You got a hefty bounty on your head, and I intend to take it!”

The fight escalated with Gem’s frustration. She spun herself around and leaped at Etho, sword high in the air and aiming to plunge it deep into his skull. Instead, she hit the inn’s counter, splitting the wood and knocking several small objects astray. Her hooves skidded against the floor as she reeled backwards, and wasted no time forcefully wrenching her sword free. 

Wood chippings now scattered across the floor, Gem paid them no mind in her pursuit. The action seemed to distract Etho somewhat, discontent flashing across his heterochromatic eyes, and she took the opportunity to strike. 

Finally, with a lucky stab, she managed to pin him down against the inn’s wall, plunging her sword into his shoulder with a devastating crack and watching as what must have been blood seeped out from it. He gasped, eyes darting to the wound. A wild grin found its way to Gem’s face.

“You’re a tricky one, aren’t you?” She asked, using the moment to catch her breath before unsheathing a second, smaller sword from around her waist. The sharp blade glinted in the deep, warm light of the inn. The reflection didn’t make it to Etho’s eyes. “Shame I’m gonna have to take you out like all the rest of ‘em. I’ll make it quick, though. You’ve earned it.”

It was odd, she thought briefly. Despite the sword driven straight through him, he didn’t appear to actually really care about it all that much. His breathing was as steady as ever, and he barely moved at all beside a futile effort to scoot away from her intense gaze. His eyes were calm, watching her every move in something almost akin to silent fascination rather than the fear she had grown accustomed to. No matter, though, Gem decided as she made clean work of him, lopping off his head in a single swing. 

It fell to the ground with a solid thunk, rolling slightly before making its stop like any old head should. A tenseness she didn’t know she was holding finally released, and she breathed again. Blood was splattered all over the inn’s floors, and she grit her teeth as she imagined the cut from her paycheck she’d have to give the keeper to get it cleaned. All this for some measly priceless artefact? Still, it was over. 

She picked up his head by the hair, and stepped back in shock as she felt just how cold it was. Instantly, it called to mind the way it felt to grab a fistful of snow with no gloves for the first time, fingertips fully immersed in the unadulterated icy chill. For a brief moment, it reminded her of… home. Gem had never considered herself the squeamish type, especially not with an occupation such as hers, but the realization gripping hold of her in that split second was enough to make her gag.

Her grip on his hair loosened for a second, but she caught herself before the head could drop. On a second examination, she noticed what looked like snowflakes scattered in his white hair and decorating his long eyelashes. It was then she finally heard the faint crackling sound that had been slowly spreading around her. The blood that had been flowing freely from Etho’s body was freezing up, and fast.

Gem could do nothing but watch in horror as the blood on the walls and floor turned to thick ice, cracking and shattering into pieces around her as soon as it solidified. Within no time it had spread to his severed head, and she gasped as the blood that still dripped from his neck froze midair and fell to the floor, fragmenting into dozens of tiny pieces. 

She broke her gaze from the head in her hands just long enough to witness a mountain of ice emerge from what remained of his body’s neck, accompanied by a low hissing noise that made her stomach churn. Gem realized then the shape that it was forming. Fractals of ice packed in and around each other, working in tandem to sculpt out a new head identical to the one in her hands. The only difference being, there was nothing to cover the lower half of his face. If she could even call that half a face.

Once the hissing had stopped, that same dark substance she had seen swirl around him in their fight began to seep out from the wound, covering the newly formed head in a thin black layer and obscuring his features. Her heart dropped as she watched the shadowy liquid be absorbed into the ice, revealing a brand new head on Etho’s shoulders, indistinguishable from the first and complete with a new mask. His eyes fluttered open. 

“That wasn’t very nice of you, now was it?” Etho asked as he turned his head to look over at her, an amused smile painting his voice. Gem screamed.

⋆⋆⋆

Gem had never fainted before. With the amount of blood and guts she spilled with a smile on a daily basis, she hadn’t thought it was even possible for someone like her. Evidently, though, everyone had their limits. 

More confusingly, though, was that she had awoken tucked nice and neatly in a warm bed, with at least a dozen pillows cushioning her head and antlers. With a slight turn of her head, she could see a still-warm cup of cocoa resting on the table next to her and causing a sweet scent to waft through the little room she now found herself in. 

She groaned, sitting herself up in the bed and trailing her hand up her forehead, where she could feel a piece of gauze sticking out. Another glance around her surroundings revealed that her weapons were nowhere to be seen. Gem cursed under her breath. 

Her eyes darted around the room. It was quaint, with wooden walls and flooring and a decorative carpet in the center. Faint light streamed in through a window, accompanied by the warm glow of a candle. Must be early morning, she thought. 

Oddly though, the corner across from her seemed to be completely wrapped in shadow, defying the soft sunlight that should have illuminated it. Gem found herself unable to tear her trembling eyes away as the shadowy corner suddenly warped in her vision, the dark matter collecting and solidifying together as a familiar figure materialized before her. 

Etho drifted nonchalantly towards her, stopping by the table to eye the mug, something almost disappointed flashing in his expression as he noticed it hadn’t been touched. Gem faintly spotted a stitch in the shoulder of his tunic. He turned his attention to her.

“How’re ya’ holding up?" He asked, his tone both concerned and casual at once. “You took a pretty nasty fall back there! Never seen anything like it, it was crazy.” A small laugh punctuated his last sentence.

She blinked, then blinked again, but found herself unable to erase the image of what she had just seen from behind her eyes. It was the kick she needed to jog her memory though, and she leaped backwards away from him, nearly hitting her head on the wall behind her. 

“You… What in void’s name are you!?” She squawked. Etho furrowed his frosted eyebrows quizzically. 

“Well, I was hoping maybe you’d be a little bit more appreciative of the setup you’ve got going on here. I even made you a hot cocoa! Iskall told me you guys love that stuff!” There was something genuine in his voice that made Gem calm somewhat, even if his words only added to her bewilderment. She turned back to look at the mug, and slowly reached a hand out to grab it.

Pulling it close to her chest, she spoke, “You made this? For me? Why? I tried to kill you! I did kill you! At least, I think? I’m… still not entirely sure what happened back there.” She stared down into the mug, feeling a weird sense of shame bubble through her. Having the man she’d killed standing right there in front of her, it felt like talking to a ghost. The bounty hunter wasn’t used to having to think about the aftermath of her career beyond what minor property damage could ensue from a struggle, nevermind like this. Her grip on the handle tightened.

“What, this old thing?” Etho asked with another laugh, pulling up his own severed head from the ground next to Gem’s bed. “I left it here for you, since you seemed to really be after it. Figured it could make a nice souvenir from your stay here, you know?” Etho seemed to pick up from Gem’s appalled expression that she did not, in fact, know. 

“Okay, okay, uh, well, you can take it with you when you leave if you want.” A pause. “This… is what you’re after, right?” Gem could make out tiny frozen droplets still connected to the head’s neck, suspended in time and ice. Momentarily, she considered being alarmed at the notion that she’d been sleeping soundly next to a severed head, or grilling him on why exactly he thought putting said head in her room was a normal thing to do in the slightest. The thumping pain rattling around in her skull made the decision for her.

“Partially,” she replied curtly, evidently still attempting to win her staring contest with the mug. Finally, she broke the one-sided tension, and dared to take a small sip. 

It tasted… cold? No, that wasn't right. The liquid was sweet, if a little watery, and at a comfortably warm temperature. It was more as if the ethos of the mug itself refused to be hot. Like it had reluctantly taken to the liquid, yet refused to be any more than a temporary vessel for its warmth. Or, perhaps even more strangely, as if the liquid itself wasn't quite sure it knew how to be warm. 

Despite Gem’s own lukewarm reaction, Etho lit up. 

“Do you like it?” he asked, his normally chill and steady voice brightening with excitement. An amused look found its way to Gem’s face at the sudden change. 

“It’s nice,” she replied simply. She took another sip, then paused to close her eyes. She swore she could hear a triumphant noise from beside her as she tried to calm her searing nerves. Having the head as proof was good, sure, but the curator had expected — and promised payment for — much more. Gem needed that artefact back. She turned back to face him.

“To be honest, Etho,” She began, “Your head’s not all I’m here for. You don’t just get a bounty on your head for nothing, you know. I’m also here to retrieve that artefact you stole.” 

Etho blinked. “The what?”

Now it was Gem’s turn to furrow her brow. 

“You know. The amulet of the ancient Sun people? The last surviving of its kind? You took it from a museum just a few days ago.” She tilted her head, not even trying to hide her bafflement. Etho squinted at her. He tapped his fingers on the nightstand beside him thoughtfully.

“Ancient amulet… ancient amulet…” He mused. “Oh! Is that what that shiny gold necklace was? It was just lying around on a shelf at that ‘museum’ place Iskall took me to! I don’t know why nobody else thought to take it, to be honest. Here, check it out!” He tugged at something unseen underneath his mask for a minute, before producing the very artefact Gem had been seeking. He handed it to her casually as her shaky hands returned the mug to its nightstand. 

“You’ve been wearing it this whole time!?” She exclaimed, yelping when the item made contact with her skin and reeling backwards at the sudden burst of heat running through her fingertips. 

“Ah, yeah.” He didn’t appear too upset at its departure, though Gem couldn't help but notice his lively attitude had faded somewhat. She brushed her thumb over the deep amber pendant, briefly fascinated by the perpetual heat emanating off of it. 

“It’s neat, right? I’ve never seen a necklace like it. I wasn’t planning on taking it, at first, but I really wanted to figure out why it made my fingers melt like that.”

“You really are something,” Gem muttered. “But, I’m afraid I’ll have to take this back. A job’s a job.”

He gave her a nod. “Yep, yep, fine by me. Is that all you need?”

“Oh, I have one more thing, actually,” Gem replied, tucking the amulet away safely.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I want my weapons back.”

⋆⋆⋆

The curator grinned and clasped her hands together as she spotted Gem, a full-looking satchel and small brown bag now decorating her waist alongside her clanking swords and knives. The bounty hunter approached her desk with a matching smile, untying the smaller bag and placing it before the curator.

“I see you’ve returned! Remarkably fast as well. This is?”

“The amulet, back safe and sound without a scratch. Very pretty, might I add. Anyone would be able to see why it’s the prized jewel of your exhibit. And why a rotten thief would want to take it.” Gem placed the satchel next to it.

“And this…?”

“That deplorable thief’s head, just as you asked. I can assure you, he won’t be any more trouble for you now.”

“Excellent. Then, I believe you are deserving of your reward.”

“Yes,” Gem repeated. “Excellent.”

[hellinistical]

fem! reader x rafayel. royal! au. sea horror! au. heavy angst. minor and major character death. slow burn. romance. fluff. explicit smut. trauma. religious themes. gore; hinted torture, cannibalism, decapitation, self-cannibalism. violence. mdni. wc: 1801 | status: on-going

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I: LEGENDS OF OLD

13 years ago…

In a small, dimly lit cottage nestled on the edge of Linkon, an old woman gathered a group of wide-eyed children around the hearth. The fire crackled and cast long shadows on the walls, but the children’s attention was fixed on the old woman, her voice low and full of ancient wisdom.

“Listen well, my dearies,” she began, her voice a hushed whisper, “for this is a tale that has been told in Chronosia for as long as the mountains have stood. It is a tale of the Dark Sea, that cursed water beyond our shores, where no good soul dares to tread.”

The children huddled closer, their small faces filled with curiosity and just a hint of fear.

“The Dark Sea is no ordinary sea,” the old woman continued. “Its waves are as black as night, and it stretches far and wide, so deep that not even the sun’s light can reach its depths. But that’s not the worst of it, oh no. For beneath those waves, there are monsters—terrible, dreadful creatures that would freeze your blood if you were ever to lay eyes on them.”

She paused, letting the silence hang in the air, drawing the children deeper into the story.

“They say these monsters were once men, greedy and cruel, who angered the gods with their wicked ways. The gods turned them into beasts, with scales like iron and teeth sharp as daggers, and banished them to the Dark Sea. And there they wait, lurking in the deep, ready to snatch up any child who doesn’t listen to their elders.”

One of the children gasped, and the old woman nodded gravely. She leaned forward, pushing her glasses up her crooked nose. One of the lenses was cracked, a leg broken; the glasses were sat at an angle. “Aye, that’s right. If you’re bad, if you disobey, the monsters of the Dark Sea will come for you. They’ll drag you beneath the waves, and you’ll never see the light of day again.”

She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. “But the monsters aren’t the only ones you need to fear. There are also the sirens—beautiful, wicked creatures with voices that can charm the birds from the trees. They sing songs so sweet that you’ll want to do anything they say. But it’s all a trick, my dears. For when you follow their voices into the water, you’ll find yourself surrounded by their sharp claws and fangs. And once they’ve got you, there’s no escape.” She grabs at one of the children as if to demonstrate— a boy with soft brown hair. He jumps, purple eyes wide in fear.

The children trembled, clutching each other for comfort, their imaginations running wild with the old woman’s words.

“There was once a little boy, just about your age… and they called him Rafayel,” Grandmother pointed to the youngest of the group, who was not paying attention. Her h/c hair was in her face, and she blew her fringe up and out as she looked at the granny. “His mother warned him, ‘The Dark Sea is not for the likes of us. It’s a place where no good comes to those who wander too close.’ But Rafayel, thinking himself ever so clever, didn’t heed her warnings, did he?”

The children shook their heads, eyes wide.

“One day,” the old woman continued, “Rafayel couldn’t resist the pull of the sea. The sun was setting, casting the sky in shades of crimson and gold, and he thought to himself, ‘What harm could there be in just a quick look? Just a little closer to see the waves. The shells there are beautiful!’ So he crept down to the shore, his little heart beating with excitement and just a touch of fear.”

She paused, letting the tension build as the children held their breath.

“The sea was calm at first, the waves kissing his feet. Rafayel laughed, ‘The sea is a friend!’,” the old woman said, her voice low, “but as Rafayel stepped closer, the waves began to stir. And then, he heard it—the most beautiful sound he’d ever known. It was a song, soft and sweet, floating on the breeze. The sirens were singing to him, calling his name, promising him wonders beyond his wildest dreams. How could a boy so young resist? He stepped further into the water, letting the waves lap at his legs, his mind lost in the melody.”

The children shuddered, imagining the eerie song pulling them toward the dark, cold sea.

“But as he waded deeper,” the old woman continued, her tone darkening, “the sea began to change. The water grew colder, the sky darker, and the sirens’ sweet voices twisted into something terrible. Before Rafayel could turn back, they appeared—beautiful, yes, but with eyes that burned like a dark fire and smiles that bared sharp, glistening teeth. They circled around him, their claws reaching out, and in that moment, Rafayel knew he’d made a terrible mistake.”

She paused again, letting the children’s imaginations run wild with the horror of what was to come.

“He screamed for his mother, but alas, he was too far out- she heard him, yes, but she could not reach him. The sirens sang to him, and grabbed him,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “and pulled him under the waves. But they didn’t just drown him, oh no. That would have been too merciful. They took him to the deepest part of the Dark Sea, where the light of the sun never reaches, and there, they began their terrible work. They twisted him, reshaped him into something monstrous. His arms sprouted scales, his sides grew fins, and his legs were torn from his little body just to be fused together into a tail, forced back into him. His spine was taken and elongated, his eyes removed, blessed by the sirens, and replaced. And his voice, once full of laughter, became a hollow siren’s song—a song of sorrow and regret disguised as faux laughter, for the sirens do not feel but hunger and desperation.”

“The next morning, all they found of him was his little shoes, washed up on the shore. The sea had taken him, and he was never seen again.”

The children’s eyes were wide with terror, their hearts pounding as they imagined poor Rafayel’s fate.

The children gasped, their eyes filling with tears at the thought of the lost boy.

“So, you see,” the old woman said, her voice firm, “you must always listen to your parents. You must be good, and you must never, ever go near the Dark Sea. For if you do, the monsters and sirens will come for you, and once they do, you’ll be lost forever.”

She sat back in her chair, the firelight casting eerie shadows on her face, and the children, wide-eyed and frightened, nodded vigorously, promising themselves that they would never disobey. A light smirk rested on the woman’s face.

“Good,” the old woman said with a satisfied nod. “Now off to bed with you, and remember what I’ve told you. The Dark Sea is always watching, always waiting. Be good, my dears, and you’ll stay safe.”

And with that, the children scurried off to their beds, their minds filled with the dark waters and the dangers that lurked beneath, vowing to be as good as they possibly could, lest the Dark Sea come for them in the night.

But two stayed behind. The youngest and her friend.

“Grandmother, you don’t really believe that, do you? It’s just a story.” Her smile was lopsided, one of her front teeth missing- she had just lost it the day before.

The old woman smiled, patting her head.

“Who’s to say it is or isn’t? This is our tradition, Y/n.”

“A silly one. You won’t scare me! I don’t wanna go to bed yet.”

“Hmmm…I see. And what about you, Tara?”

Tara, Y/n’s friend, stood by the door, utterly petrified.

“I’ll go to bed!”

“Good girl. You’ll get the first breakfast tomorrow.”

As Tara cheered, Y/n gasped, running up the stairs to go to bed, Tara following soon after.

…

As the children’s small figures disappeared up the stairs, the old woman remained by the hearth, her once-lighthearted demeanor giving way to a somber seriousness. The flickering flames cast long shadows on her wrinkled face, deepening the lines of worry that etched her features.

After a few moments, she stood up and moved to the window, gazing out at the inky blackness of the night. The sea, dark and inscrutable, stretched endlessly beyond the village’s reach, its waves whispering secrets that only the old and wise seemed to understand.

“Damned monsters,” she muttered to herself, her voice a harsh whisper in the quiet of the room. The words were laced with a bitterness borne from years of fear and resignation. The old woman knew that the stories she told were not just tales but grim reminders of the kingdom’s bleak reality.

She sighed deeply, her gaze fixed on the dark horizon. The kingdom of Chronosia, in its perpetual cycle of fear and sacrifice, was preparing for another gathering—a tradition steeped in age-old customs. When the prince came of age, the kingdom would conduct its yearly harvest, a dreadful ritual meant to appease the Dark Sea’s insatiable hunger for the “undesirables” it demanded.

The old woman knew all too well the cruel nature of this tradition. Every year, the kingdom would gather suitable women of age from its villages under the guise of a chance to work in the castle or, if they were lucky, marry a noble. The rest were sent as offerings to the sea, believed to be a necessary sacrifice to maintain the kingdom's safety and prosperity. The prince’s coming of age marked not just the end of his childhood but the beginning of a new round of this macabre ritual.

Her thoughts were heavy as she reflected on the fate that awaited those chosen—innocent lives exchanged for a fleeting promise of protection. The sea, with its dark mysteries and monstrous inhabitants, was never truly satisfied, and the cycle continued, perpetuated by fear and superstition.

The old woman clenched her fists, her knuckles white in the dim light. “May the gods have mercy on those who are chosen,” she whispered, her voice trembling with both anger and sadness. “And may they find a way to break this curse before it claims another soul.”

With one last look at the sea, she turned away from the window, the weight of her thoughts pressing heavily on her shoulders. The night was silent, but the old woman’s heart was troubled, knowing that the shadows of the Dark Sea would soon cast their pall over the kingdom once more.

copyright © 2024 Hellinistical all rights reserved. no part of this story may be reposted, edited, or reproduced without the author's permission.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Something I Can Turn To

And now for something different again! I took the AU in 'Domestic AU' and I ran with it! So this is your classic sort of everyone's alive alternate universe, set some nebulous time in the current-ish era, wherein Charles and Edwin attended school together and both survived (slash saved each other from) their canon deaths. It's just a sweet and slightly sad little thing that doesn't go into a huge amount of detail, but I got very attached to it so who knows, maybe in future I'll expand on the backstory! Warnings for references to their pasts and the bullying, child abuse etc. that went on there, as well as to injuries, scars and trauma that resulted from it. But we're not getting into super nitty-gritty detail and hopefully the overall vibe is one of love and safety! Still, tread carefully if those topics are at all triggering for you 💛 2.3k, T-rated, also available on Ao3. Thanks again, @painlandweek!

"Charles!" Edwin called — bravely poking his face out from the warm duvet to be heard. "The advertisements are over!"

"Coming, coming!"

Charles scurried into the room moments later, two cups of tea in his hands. He huffed and puffed as he padded along the floorboards in hole-riddled socks. "Cold, cold, cold," he muttered, thrusting the cups towards Edwin in a sloshy, mildly dangerous manner. "Grab these a sec!"

Edwin did so, wincing as his arms breached the bounds of the duvet nest to the frigid air beyond. Once Charles had his hands free he wasted no time diving into bed, burrowing into the pocket of warmth.

"Mate, it's fucking cold," he said, reclaiming his mug. "Freezing my bollocks off out there."

"Perhaps we should have prioritised buying that space heater, after all," Edwin mused.

"Oi. 'Nuff of that. That kettle's a bloody essential bit of kit."

Edwin sipped his tea. Scalding hot, just as he liked it. "Hmm. Agreed."

Charles squirmed around getting comfortable, taking care not to spill his tea. He almost succeeded. "Ow. So! What'd I miss?"

"Nothing whatsoever — you made it back just in time." Edwin settled in as well, against the headboard — though by headboard, he of course meant the bare magnolia wall. "I must say, I'm intrigued by this one. I wonder how Detective Columbo's going to get this villain dead to rights."

"Always fakes you out, don't he?" Charles grinned, finally finding his space — pressed up against Edwin, hip to shoulder. "Mm — pass us the biccies."

Edwin handed him the somewhat depleted packet of ginger snaps. "Do be careful of the crumbs — we've only one fitted sheet to our name."

One sheet, one duvet. Two pillows. No bed frame. It was a modest sleeping arrangement. Particularly for two grown men, squeezed onto a mattress that was only a double by the barest technicality. But on these cold winter nights, that closeness had its benefits. Several benefits, in fact.

As though reading his mind, Charles grinned. "What?" He waggled his eyebrows. "Never messed about on a bed of biscuit crumbs?"

Edwin groaned and, lightly, pressed his palm to Charles' face and pushed it away. "You're revolting," he said.

Charles just laughed. "What? It's just like sex on the beach, really." He bit down on a biscuit. Loudly. "Bit crunchier."

"You will never persuade me that sex on a beach is a good idea," said Edwin, with a shudder. "The sand..."

"Sex in the sea, then?"

"Best of luck with your urinary tract infection."

Charles’ laughter rolled pleasantly in Edwin's ears as he nestled in properly, head on Edwin's shoulder.

Edwin chuckled in turn, draping his arm around Charles, fingers sinking into his hair. He played absently with Charles' unruly curls, as Columbo talked circles around his latest hapless ne're-do-well.

It was a strange little life they'd carved out for themselves, here in this sparsely-furnished nest. They had Edwin's scholarship to thank, and the student housing fund he'd received alongside. Though Charles helped as best he could with his meagre earnings from his part-time job at the local gym, they barely scraped by. Charles might've also been able to apply for student loans, once upon a time. But he'd never managed to bounce back after the sharp decline of his grades in year eleven. And what else could anyone have expected? It had taken all of his considerable strength to get back on his feet after what happened to him. Every ounce of his tenacity to return to his life after the incident that had almost ended it.

Edwin would not soon forget those hideous, harrowing weeks. Counting days of silence, of filling the Rowland family's voicemail to no acknowledgement. Of pitying expressions from hospital staff as they turned him away, time after time. Stewing and seething in the fear and the worry. In the rage of being told that he had less of a right to visit his best friend than the man who'd covered his back in belt scars did. Edwin didn't sleep, he didn't eat, he worried himself away night by night, and the boys who did the damage? Oh, they were suspended. For less time than it took for Charles to return to form. Back to school with a slap on the wrist. Any notions Edwin might've still held about there being justice in the world had been quite thoroughly quashed by that ruling.

It was a miracle Charles even found the strength to attend school for his last two years — let alone the same school. The one where he had, to reiterate, nearly lost his life to hypothermia and internal injuries at the hands of his hooligan 'friends'. Edwin had scarcely believed his eyes when he'd spied Charles across assembly that Tuesday morning. A month with no word and suddenly there he was, beaten and battered and more beautiful than Edwin's heart could take.

His parents — or at least his mother — had wished to transfer him, of course. But Charles, in true Charles fashion, dug in his heels and refused to be moved. Edwin had cornered him that very morning, on the stairs after assembly. He must have been angry — because he shouted at Charles when all he truly wanted to do was collapse into his arms.

"I cannot believe you would stay here in this barbaric horror show after what those boys did to you," Edwin had snapped, eyes stinging with the threat of tears to fall. "That is so fucking stupid it's unbelievable!"

"Sorry," Charles had replied — not sounding sorry in the slightest. His stitched-up split lip curled with his weary smile. "No version of this where I don't stick this out with you, is there?"

And that, as far as Charles had been concerned, was the matter closed.

The simple fact was that Edwin had never had a choice in which school he would attend. St. Hilarion's was in the family tradition; his father, grandfather, great grandfather, all honoured alumni. And if Edwin's own incident a year earlier hadn't been enough to convince his father otherwise, then nothing else would. The only way Edwin was leaving that school before graduation was in a body bag. And Charles, the stubborn fool, could only be convinced to leave Edwin in the same manner.

And so for the last two years of hell they had tried, in their own ways, to keep their heads down. 'Tried' being the operative word. Charles could never leave well enough alone, and fights were amassed. But every time he showed up to their hideout in the attic with a black eye or bloody knuckles, it was always the same story. One where he saw someone else being bullied, and threw himself at the situation as a substitute punching bag. Sometimes, the person he was protecting was Edwin. More often than not, it was some boy he'd never exchanged two words with. Made no odds to him.

And no matter how it terrified Edwin, or how he admonished Charles, he could never truly take issue. To resent Charles for being protective would be to resent him for being tragically, quintessentially Charles. In the end there was nothing he could do but patch Charles together with his pilfered first aid kit, and plead with him to be more careful. Maybe, just maybe, it would sink into his thick skull one day.

While Charles spiralled, Edwin studied. And studied, and studied, and studied. During slow lessons, after hours in the library, in the dead of night under the covers — he preferred to catch his sleep in daytime naps, anyway. For obvious reasons, sleeping in the dorm around the other boys had lost its appeal. There were days where he was so exhausted he could do nothing in his lunchtime trysts with Charles but sleep. At times it seemed there was no safe place in the world besides that dusty attic, with Charles' thigh as his pillow.

It was worth it, the sleepless nights, the borderline mania of his studies. With his stellar grades at sixth form, Edwin secured a scholarship on the other side of the country — fully paid. Meaning freedom, at last, from the golden shackles of his father's money. He'd packed everything he could carry into a backpack and his grandfather's old leather travel case. And with the first money he'd ever had to his name and no one else's, he made his first purchase: two train tickets. One way.

It wasn't an entirely seamless escape, of course. When he'd walked to the Rowland house to collect Charles, he'd found him scrambling through the narrow window of his basement bedroom. Nothing on him but the clothes on his back, and a fresh bruise across his jaw. But escape they had — and Charles had slept the entire way to Edinburgh, head on Edwin's shoulder. Safe and sound, at last.

It had felt good to be able to rescue Charles, for a change. He'd been playing the hero for others long enough.

Edwin scratched lightly at Charles' scalp as the Columbo credits rolled. He smiled when Charles snuffled and nuzzled into the sensation in the manner of a contented old dog.

"What's on next?" asked Charles, drowsy.

"I believe there's an episode of QI on the next channel." Edwin enjoyed that programme — some of the humour was a bit crass for his tastes, but he almost always learned something interesting.

"Tenner says Alan comes last place."

Edwin rolled his eyes. "Easy money. And I haven't got a tenner."

"Fiver?"

"No."

"One-er?"

Edwin laughed. "I shall wager you... a kiss."

Charles perked up. "I'll take that action!"

"I hope you never take up a gambling habit, Charles," said Edwin, fondly. "Why on Earth would you place bets for something you can have at any time, in abundance?"

"Yeah, but it's not just a kiss, is it? It's a victory kiss. I get to be all smug and that."

"Charming."

"Oh, I'm a charmer." Charles smiled up at him crookedly, eyes hooded. "All the fit lads love me."

Affection bubbled in Edwin's chest as he looked down upon him. It was a flagrant hollow boast — Edwin knew better than anyone how dire Charles' opinion of himself could be. A situation that had only worsened in recent years, as the beatings from home and school grew more frequent and harder to hide under shirts. The scar on his lip had never fully healed. Nor had the proud sweep of his nose recovered from the time it was broken and poorly reset. He was a war-torn thing, and a bit of a hodgepodge. Elegant frame under rugged wounds, topped off with subtly effete highlights of gold earring and smudged eyeliner. Eyes older than his years, and a newly gap-toothed grin that could still light up the room. He was a strange young man, a walking contradiction; and Edwin loved him dearly, fiercely, and oh-so-terribly.

Edwin leaned down, dropping a sweet kiss between Charles' eyes — just above his broken nose. "I should think so. You're very easy to love."

Charles blinked up at him, a flash of vulnerability in his dark eyes. Edwin gathered him close under his arm before he could do something silly like second guess his affection, or shy away.

"Now shush," said Edwin primly, cupping his warm tea to his chest. It was an awful mug, scrounged from a charity shop with a chip in the rim. It declared the holder a certified 'Tired Old Queen', and it was always Edwin's mug without question. "Mister Fry is about to tell us the theme of the week."

And for a little while, that was that. Edwin followed the programme, rapt, humming in interest at new information — and rolling his eyes at the obvious blunders of the panel. Charles did not speak for some time, still warm against Edwin's side. Sometimes, upon being paid a compliment, he needed to sit a while and let it absorb.

It was the ad break, and Edwin was considering braving the arctic chill of the unheated flat for another tea, when Charles spoke again.

"Edwin?"

"Hm?"

Charles wrapped the arm clutching his — now empty — chequered mug around Edwin's waist. "When the Beeb come and drag me away for not paying the telly licence, will you visit me in prison?"

It was so out-of-pocket that Edwin couldn't help but laugh. "Well. Technically, I will be the one going to prison," he said. "It is my name on the apartment lease."

"Would you want me to visit you in prison, then?"

Edwin flicked Charles' earring, playful. "Obviously, Charles."

He could feel Charles' grin against his shoulder. "Brills. You tell me the layout, and I'll bust you out."

"That is not what I agreed to."

"I'll chat to that new girl at the gym, Crystal? Bet she'd help with a prison break. Reckon she's got a wild side."

"Charles," he said, flatly. "I'll not have you imprisoned with me when your madcap scheme goes awry."

"Why not?" said Charles, giving Edwin a warm squeeze. "That's the whole point of doing it."

Edwin scoffed — but his heart was beating ten to the dozen. "Charles —"

"Nope. Sorry." Charles took Edwin's empty mug from his hand — and leaned up to plant a loud, obnoxious kiss on his cheek. "Looks like you're stuck with me. Prison's not getting you out of this relationship, mate."

He made as if to leave the duvet igloo — and immediately hissed at the cold. "Although this bloody apartment might — fucking hell. Going outside; I may be some time."

Edwin rolled his eyes. "Oh, for goodness' sake." He inched over to the edge of the bed and gathered the duvet about both their shoulders like a cape, tucking his arm neatly around Charles' waist. "There. If we make haste, we can be back before the general ignorance round." He met Charles’ eyes, stoic. “No man left behind.”

Charles’ smile was a soft and doting thing; somehow it warmed Edwin deeper than any space heater ever could. He wrapped his arm around Edwin's shoulder. Their feet dangled side by side, toes flexed to avoid premature contact with the chilly floor. "Together on three, then?”

Edwin smiled back, and nodded. "One."

Charles bumped their heels together in companionship. "Two..."

Edwin returned the gesture, in commiseration for the unpleasantness to come. A cold and bitter expedition to the kettle lay ahead; but as in all things, they’d tough it out together.

"Three!"

~~

Thanks for reading, this one's very dear to my heart - would love to know what you think 💛 Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the lovely comments you guys have been leaving on my fics - I have SO many to catch up on but I promise I'm gonna reply to them! I love talking to you and really appreciate you talking to me 💛💛💛 Not sure right now whether there'll be a fic for tomorrow (canon divergence/case fic) or the day after (free day). I have nothing written, none of my ideas are really sticking, and I'm still feeling kind of ill. I might end up just posting some ink sketches instead! But whether there's fics tomorrow/Saturday or not, there will defo be a fic Sunday 💛 Thanks so much, my lovelies - I'll be seeing you soon 💛💛💛

[abibliophobiaa]

Beyond - s.h. x f!reader.

Chapter Nine: Our Bodies Unfurl Like Smoke

summary: it’s about time you got some alone time in the harrington household.

warnings: alcohol mention and consumption; oral (f receiving); fingering (in public setting); p in v sex; with allusions to sex throughout. (5.8k words)

modern day! rich! fake husband! steve harrington au.

masterlist

——

Dreaming. Must be dreaming. There’s heat at your back. Firm, sinewy muscle. The heft of his thighs against the backs of yours, those deft fingers of his curling around your waist. Over your ribcage, up along your breast. A hum spills from pillowy lips, fingers curling around his forearm, digging crescents into soft skin as he trails up and down, up and down against warm flesh.

Toying, teasing, tempting.

He nudges at your ear, a low whisper of your needed consent. Nodding, you’re nodding as he slides the cup of your bra down, gliding over bare flesh, teasing at your sensitive skin there. Grins into your throat at the low whine that punches from your throat, greedy hips pressing back against his crotch purposefully. Relishing in the feeling of him hardening, growing harder still against your backside.

“Steve…”

It’s a breathy thing. A crack of your voice. A falter of air. You can feel your husband’s smile against your skin, can hear the hum of satisfaction behind you as you stutter over his index and middle finger sliding down to trail dangerously low, swirling over your clit.

“Steve…”

Another breathless cry. A rasp. A plea as those fingers circle around and around, before dipping into the well of slick at your center.

“Gonna have to be quiet for me, honey,” he whispers, teeth dancing along the skin of your earlobe, “think you can do that?”

No — you want to scream it at him. To cry it from the rooftops, because you haven’t known how much you’ve wanted this from him until now. The feeling of him close against you, every inch of him like a live wire against yours. And now you’re not sure you’ll be able to quell the emotions he’s stirred within. The intense need, want, desire.

Instead you nod. Grip the hand of the arm that slides beneath your head and wedges there, fingers digging into his palm as those fingers push in, robbing you of every thought that might have been scurrying around in your mind. Into the air they vanish, replaced by the sound of his harsh breath in your ear, of his praises between your thighs, the stutter of your breath at the drag of his capable fingers within your walls.

“Oh fuck — look so pretty like this.”

His hips rock against your ass, a slow press that has you turning into his bicep to muffle your moans, overwhelmed by the heat of him and the way he’s sliding his fingers in and out of you like his life depends on it — like he won’t be satisfied until you are. Fingers curl along your shoulder, his lips running over the line of your neck, until you’re turning your head to face him, warm lips against your own.

“Wanted you like this for so long,” he hums, glancing down at the way your hips roll experimentally back against him, choking on his words.

You’re suddenly rolled onto your back, his lips swallowing the question that rises to your lips at the loss of his fingers between your thighs. Another forms on your tongue as he rips away, his mouth pressing kiss after kiss to every exposed inch of skin he can find. The hollow of your throat, the skin peeking out from beneath your sweatshirt, just above your pants, your sides where he laves over flesh, leaving you giggling softly beneath him.

But it’s not enough, and you don’t think it’ll ever be enough, and he knows this. Recognizes it as his dexterous fingers pull at the band of your sweats, eyes meeting yours in a silent question. Head rolling back, you focus on breathing as he slides them down and off your thighs, his bare chest pressed against the mattress in the cradle of your hips.

Lips cover your body in warmth. Beginning at the crook of your ankle, marking a loving path up along a calf, searing across the inside of plush thighs. He takes his time coasting over both, not in a hurry, merely enjoying his path as fingers move to curl around your hips, dragging you down over the mattress, his warm breath dancing along your clothed center, drawing your pulse to that innermost point, thrumming loudly in your ears with every pump of blood through your body.

“Been thinking about this for weeks now too.”

His fingers brush over the wet patch on your panties, embarrassment roiling in your belly over how quickly he’s able to work you up like this. That embarrassment is quenched by him pushing your panties aside, dragging a slow line from center to clit, hazel eyes watching as your hips cant up and off the mattress, back arching in your moan you muffle with the heft of a pillow against your face.

“Can I taste you, honey? Want to make you feel good.”

At your frantic nod, he’s ripping the underwear down and off your thighs, tossing them unrepentantly against the floor, and crawling back into the space between your legs, slick with your want for him. Suddenly, it’s only you and this man. The warmth of his breath at your center, followed by the first brush of his tongue, parting you for him.

It’s in that instant, as his mouth starts a dangerous path, testing and teasing at you that your vision goes white around the edges. Hands reach out to grip at the hairs at the back of his head, tangling in dark locks as he sucks with just the right pressure that has you muffling a strangled cry of his name.

Your husband’s head lifts just enough to make eye contact with you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he dives back down, repeating that motion over and over again, sliding one finger in alongside it, and the another in that come hither motion he’s seemingly perfected, until you’re dancing closer and closer to bliss, a mess of whimpers, cries and moans against a pillow.

“Steve — mmm, ah — ‘mgonnacome.”

It’s all the encouragement he needs to spur him on. Hums of his own enjoyment tingling from deep within vibrating against your center as you shatter beneath him, crying out his name behind the shelter of a pillow that he quickly throws onto the floor once you’re trembling lessens and you float back to your own body, boneless in his arms.

And then he’s kissing you. The taste of you sliding over your tongue as his mingles with yours, a breathy sigh falling from his lips where they touch yours as you scramble to untie the front or his pajama pants, a palm sliding down within to finally touch him in the way you’ve been wanting to for weeks now.

“As much as I would love that, honey,” he whispers against your cheek, fingers curling around where your palm is circling his cock, “I need to be inside you right now.”

“Right now?” you muse, helping him wiggle his hips out of his sweats. His frantic nod has you giggling, about to push down his boxers and free him once and for all when a knock sounds from the bedroom door, signaling the end of your morning activities. “No. Steve. No. I know she’s your mother, but I think we need to send her away. Another home, maybe? Another country, preferably.”

He’s laughing. The asshole is laughing as he rushes around the room, asking his mother to give you two a second. Your clothes are nearly tossed at your head, a huff of half-hearted annoyance falling from you as he bends down to deliver a swift kiss on your forehead, calling for his mom to enter once you’re both covered and back beneath the comforter on the bed.

“Well isn’t this just lovely,” she practically coos, as though her son isn’t nearly thirty years old, “Just wanted to let you know that breakfast is being served. Come down whenever you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Steve says, and you grin widely beside him, his face pressing into your collarbone once the door closes behind her. “Later. I promise. I’ll make it up to you later.”

You flop backwards onto the bed with a groan, Steve’s melodious laughter drowned by the pillow you toss at his head for making fun of your dramatics.

——

“You know exactly what you’re doing.” Steve’s voice is low — dark — against your ear. Hot against the shell, sending shivers rushing down your spine.

You can’t even deny it, because it would be a lie.

You did know.

You do know.

But you’d been so caught up in him. Blissed out on the feeling of his body against yours, pressing you down into the mattress, so close to having him buried inside of you at last. All you could picture in the back of your mind were his flushed chest, rasps of breath spilling from you as you gasped against his collarbone, trembling when the fullness of him pressed at your center and gave an experimental roll.

Just once, but it had been enough. Enough to have you nearly furious with want, begging for him. And his words, his whisper of, “I need to be inside you now.” The harsh drawl of them against your skin, the way he had felt in your palm. It was too much and not enough — that is, until his mother knocked on the door, and suddenly you were both teenagers again and not the married twenty-something’s you were.

So if you’d foregone your underwear and wore that dress he’d seen and knew would look absolutely divine on you, it was only because you’d wanted to rile him up. Wanted him to be wound tight, pulled taut, ready to tumble back into your room later that evening and put to rest months of pent up tension and “what ifs” in your fake marriage agreement.

And it’s a boring dinner anyway. A bunch of family friends who were nice enough, but grew bored of you and Steve quickly, preferring the conversation of their companions instead, leaving the two of you to sit at the end of the table in your own little world. Even Theobald and Cami are caught up in trying to tame their children, distracted enough that they don’t catch the way Steve presses a lingering kiss to your neck, a whisper of his breath at your ear for you to open your thighs for him against the shell.

You bite at your bottom lip as his fingers spread across the top of your thigh, parting you for him further than you already have. Thick digits trail across the inside of your skin, dancing along hot flesh until making contact with your presently bare center.

“Open wider for me, honey,” he practically purrs, delectably sweet despite the utterly sinful intention behind the command. “Thigh over my knee. Come on — that’s my good girl.”

You tremble at that, a building heat brimming low in your belly, only amplifying that second heartbeat thrumming there. Every cell in your body, every ounce of blood, rushes to your cunt, desperate with your want.

He trails his fingers against your flesh. Up and down slowly as the rest of your dinner party continues on around you, family member’s faces bent low in conversations, eating their dinner and sipping their fancy cocktails.

Beneath the table, your husband slides a single finger from your center up to your clit. Presses down until your lips part in a pleasant sigh, watching your face intently to observe your every reaction, and then circles around and around until you’re scooting to the edge of the chair, biting hard on the plush of your bottom lip.

You’re nearly drawing blood when he sinks two fingers in, muffling your moan around a swallow of your bubbly champagne. Your left hand splays over his thigh and grips tight, rings glinting stark against his dark pants, as he adds a third.

His mouth presses a soft kiss to your bare shoulder as your hips shift against the plush seat cushion. To others, it’s a sign to others of affection from a husband to his wife, but low in your ear he whispers, “Can't be riding my hand here, honey. Everyone’s going to know what’s going on under this table.”

A quiet whine spills from you. Luckily, no one notices, too wrapped up in talks about stocks, vacation homes, and business ventures.

“Also need you to save your strength,” he muses, lips pressing against your cheek. His mother flashes a grin from where she sits at the end of the table, and Steve continues, “Don't think we’ll be getting much sleep tonight.”

“Steve.” It’s a hiss, fingers tightening against his thigh when his thumb moves to circle your clit.

His words stir something low in your gut, thighs quivering around his hand, struggling to stay open for him, and he chuckles. He’s enjoying this — absolutely delighting in the fact he’s able to reduce you to this at the dinner table.

Another kiss drops against your temple, your heart thrashing wildly in your chest. “Gonna come already, aren’t you, honey?”

Your hips roll against his fingers despite his command not to.

Subtle thrusts that have stars dancing in your vision, those sparks dancing in your belly fanning into flame. The hand you have on his thigh shifts upward, curls around his bicep to dig crescents there.

“Let go, baby.”

Your eyes pinch shut, cunt clenching around his fingers as you come and come and come, head bowing and mouth rounding in a moan that never comes, because no one can know what you’ve really gotten up to at the dinner table.

His fingers keep pumping into you, thumb grazing over that sensitive nub as you lean into his shoulder, mind a haze as he presses kiss after kiss to your temple, uttering praises into your skin.

“Good girl. Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he coos, sliding his mouth over yours in a kiss.

So lost in the remnants of your orgasm, you don’t register that dessert has come. Nor do you recognize Mrs. Harrington called your name to ask if you’re feeling okay, because you haven’t touched it. Your fork dips into the rich chocolate cake, sugary treat dancing in your mouth, Steve’s smile growing as you swallow, mind still humming after your release.

“How’s your dessert?” he asks simply, as though he hasn’t just made you fall apart for him.

“Good. How’s yours?”

He glances around the table subtly, making sure no one is looking, and slides his fingers into his mouth.

His tongue drags over the slick digits and your thighs shift under the table, core clenching around nothing with the promise of what you know is to come later.

“Sweet.”

——

What Steve doesn’t tell you on the way home from the restaurant is that you’re not heading to his mother’s for the night. No — you’ll pick up your bags tomorrow, because you’ll be stopping at the nearest shopping center to pick out some clothes, before heading to a still undisclosed location for the remainder of his and your holiday vacation.

A second honeymoon, he explains, your hand in his over the center console, his thumb playing with your rings on your left hand. Crazy, by your standards, but he leans over with a kiss against your temple and reassures you he wants this. He wants time away with you from the city, uninterrupted. Charlie will stay with Hailey at her place for the next week, he answers next, already knowing where your mind might venture.

It’ll just be you, him, and the sea.

Heart thumping loudly in your ears at the thought, you’re practically humming in anticipation as you pull up to the nearest Harrington Hotel in Vail. It’s looming and grandiose as ever, and you’re met by the valet service as soon as he pulls up, keys tossed their way.

Steve gets out of the vehicle, straightens his suit and shirt before he rushes over to help you up and out of the car, your hands moving to smooth your dress down into place along your thighs, back immediately warmed from the chill of the air as he drapes your jacket over your shoulders and tugs you in close.

The hotel is bustling as you enter. From where you stand at the main entrance, you can see the upscale bar elevated on the second floor, catching the chatter of inhabitants as they toast and conversate amongst themselves. Music spills out into the lobby, followed by the sounds of your heels clacking beside Steve as he walks over to the front desk like he owns the place (as he does).

The worker at the front desk immediately straightens, their eyes catching sight of the youngest Harrington, and the picture they have plastered behind them at the front desk of Steve and the late Mr. Harrington, with respect to his death, stated on the bottom of the photo.

“Mr. Harrington,” the worker greets, fixing their tie back into place, “Mrs. Harrington. Welcome to Harrington Hotel, how may I best assist you this evening?”

“A room for two — whatever you think is best,” he says evenly, squeezing your palm. You press in closer, giddy off of the evening, anticipation brimming for the rest of the evening. “Thank you in advance. I know our visit is unexpected. In the meantime, we’ll be at the bar.”

“Yes, Mr. Harrington,” they say, voice pitching higher from nervousness, “we will send you a text message when the room is ready. We hope you enjoy your stay!”

As you walk away, your arm loops tighter around his, a grin lining your lips. “I would have gone and married the kindest man.”

“Stop that,” he bemoans, but he’s chuckling to himself. A bright, gleeful sound that has your fingers sliding over his midsection. “They were terrified. I’m just like anyone else. Just a man, wanting to spend time with his wife. My name being on the building makes me no more important.”

“That’s what I love most about you,” you tell him, walking up the flight of stairs leading to the bustling bar, fingers holding up the train of your gown. “Your big heart.”

“Someone is soft today,” he muses, turning you in his arms to face him. His smirking mouth drops down to your ear, shivers running along your spine as he murmurs, “Have I told you how gorgeous you look, Mrs. Harrington?”

“You have not, Mr. Harrington.”

“How rude of me.” His lips press against the hollow behind your ear. “My beautiful —” Another kiss along your jaw. “Beautiful.” Another to your neck. “Wife.” One at your shoulder.

“Someone is laying it on thick.” Your smirk has him leaning in closer, your fingers coming to rest on the lapels of his suit as you add, “Don’t worry — I already plan on getting you back for that stunt you pulled at dinner,” before slinking away toward the bar with him hot on your heels.

At the bar it’s lingering kisses and long glances. It’s running your fingers along his forearm where it rests over the table before you, over his hand, over the metal around his ring finger. He’s gone and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, dark hair peeking out from the neckline, his tie strewn about his shoulders. His suit is still perfect, drawn tight around his biceps, his hair messy and unkempt now from where you’ve run your fingers through it in the car.

Heat simmers in your belly. Swells as he grips your hand and whispers that he’s gotten a text. The room is ready, and your heart swoops with it. Swings like a pendulum as he places your champagne glass down on the table and leads you toward the glass elevator leading to your suite.

Below, the world lives on. Bright headlights flash in your periphery, lighting up Steve’s face in the dimly lit corridor, your body pressing against his. A palm slides low over the smallest part of your back, curls over the swell of your ass, pressing you against the cradle of his hips.

Delight skitters across your form, fingers running up along his chest, toying with another button at the center of his chest, pulling it free just as his fingers curl around the back of your neck.

A slow exhale falls from your mouth into his, teeth nipping along his bottom lip as he claims your mouth once more, body pressing yours into the wall of the elevator. Over his shoulder you can see your reflections. Your hands in his hair, his hands on your neck, on your hips, his thigh between yours. Utterly wanton and sinful in the best way.

“Fuck.”

He stutters the word along your shoulder, mouthing along hot flesh, plucking a whine from your throat as a hand curves over your waist and bunches up the fabric of your dress, dragging you even closer.

“Tell me this is real,” he whispers, “that this marriage is real.”

“It’s been real,” you tell him, pulling back to look him in the eye. His eyes are blown out, lips parted and swollen. “You, me — us. This is real. I choose you, Steve.”

His mouth opens to speak. To say something else. But the words don’t come, the door sliding open to the elevator and revealing the hall to your suite. It’s a short walk, the first door on the right, but it feels like an eternity.

Inside, you’re met with a beautiful view. Open windows as far as the eye can see, spanning over what looks to be a creek and the tops of endless rows of trees. Their branches, darkened in the night, sway to and fro in the fall breeze, still unshed for the incoming winter season. Steve appears behind you, arms looping low around your waist, swaying back and forth as you run your fingers along the outline of a particularly large tree.

Unraveling yourself from his arms, you take in the California king bed against one wall. An endless array of rose petals line the mattress, a bucket of chilled champagne in the center, with a note wishing you both a lovely stay at the Harrington Hotel.

Steve chuckles as you pick a couple up in hand, blowing them his way, nose wrinkling as you duck beneath his arm in search of the bathroom. Even that is grandiose. A giant tub in one corner, a shower with a bench on the other, a mirror that spans the entirety of one wall.

“You Harringtons,” you tease, leaning up against the doorframe, “and your ridiculously fancy hotels.”

Steve’s there with a forearm on the frame above you, hands sliding up to cup the curve of your waist. “Don’t get too comfortable, we leave for St. Lucia tomorrow.”

“You really didn’t have to do all of that,” you tell him for the umpteenth time since he said he wanted to get away.

“I know,” he says softly, coming in closer, your eyes darting to his, darkening rapidly in the moonlight. “But I wanted to. Let me.”

“Okay,” you hum, eyes fluttering shut as he leans down and kisses you soundly, quieting the thoughts swirling around in your mind.

It’s not like the kisses shared in the elevator. It’s different. Fueled by months of wanting, waiting, yearning. He's insistent, fingers curling loosely around your throat, thumb nudging your chin up in the slightest before his tongue slides over the seam of your mouth, parting you for him.

One of your thighs slides up and over his hip, his other hand reaching down to hike it higher against him, hips pressing into yours. Like this, you can feel the heat of him hard against your center, that perfect pressure driving your head back against the doorframe.

A whimper falls from you as he drops down onto his knees and tosses his tie onto the floor. The suit goes next, a crumpled and forgotten heap. He’s pushing his sleeves up when you finally lock eyes with him, heart thundering away behind your ribcage as he hooks your thigh over his shoulder and slides both palms up the back of your thighs, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

“So wet already honey,” he tuts, thumb swirling over your clit in a way that has you seeing stars.

A stiletto clad foot digs into his back at the first lick of his tongue against you. “Mmm — ah-all for you, Steve.”

Throbbing. You’re throbbing from head to toe at the way his nose bumps your clit with every precise press of his tongue. Heat crawls up your spine, tingles low in your belly. Fingers reach down to tangle in his hair, chest heaving as his hands clutch at your thighs tighter, sensing the orgasm rushing up to meet you.

He’s sliding out from under your thigh at the strangled cry of his name falling from your lips. Holding your hips as you make quick work on the rest of his buttons, nearly ripping the shirt clean from his body when you struggle on the final hole. His belt is next, trembling hands wiggling the latch free, before ripping it free from his belt loops, tossing it to the wayside carelessly.

A hand reaches up to cup the back of your neck, mouths colliding in the middle, following as you walk him backward toward the bed, kicking his thighs free from his pants along the way. Steve props himself up on his elbows, dark eyes meeting yours as you reach down and grip at the bottom of your dress, inching it up enough to slide it free from your form.

And suddenly you’re bare, completely exposed, watching nervously as his eyes trail over your form. Wondering if he notices the little imperfections that might be revealed in the moonlight. Wondering if he thinks you’re as beautiful as you find him.

“Honey.”

It’s a wonderful sound. The way he whispers it brokenly in the night. Like he can’t believe you’re real, here, standing before him in this room. A breathless thing that spills from him, like water rolling over your skin, licking at your heels deliciously. He’s gripping your hand and pulling you down beside him, sliding his boxers down and off his thighs, hovering over your form.

You can feel him. Every perfect inch of him against your abdomen. Test the weight of him in your hand, smirking to yourself at the way his eyes roll a bit as you trace the vein running along the underside, thumb gathering the precum pooling at the tip.

“Real?” you ask him.

The marriage. This moment. This man.

“Yes, sweetheart. No more faking.”

He cups himself in hand, sliding his head through your slick folds, tip nudging at your center. You’re whispering you’ve been on birth control since before the wedding and he’s telling you to watch as he slides in, the size of him a delicious burn settling into a perfect fullness once he’s bottoming out. Your eyes pinch shut, his movements stilling as he simply holds you, waiting for your command to move.

And once he does, it’s that new and lovely drag along your inner walls. A slow rise and fall of his hips against yours, fingers that hitch around your thigh to part you further for him, cock brushing against that elusive spot that has you shuddering within his arms.

“Fuck — you’re so tight.”

You never knew it could feel like this. A fullness not only within your physical body, but within your heart. Growing with each thrust, threatening to overflow.

“You’re beautiful, honey.”

Fingers lace with your own, joined palms thrown back against a pillow, clutching you tight as you urge him on to move faster. Relish in the huff of his breath along your skin, in the muscles of his back, rolling with each powerful movement.

“God, you feel so good.”

“Steve, need more.”

“Hold on to me, sweetheart.”

Your forearm slides over those broad shoulders, thighs hitching higher on his hips as he draws back and slams back in. Over and over again, the sounds of your skin slapping against his and your slick melding together with his breathy moans, your pleading whimpers.

A cry of more, please, faster, harder.

His gasps of my beautiful wife, you’re perfect honey, pussy was made for me.

You’re barely coherent. Each thrust pushing you higher against the mattress, sheets rumpling as the hand holding him up against you tightens in the fabric. Nails press deep into his shoulder blade, scoring marks as your forehead meets collar bone, breath coming faster now.

“Right there, Steve,” you whine, starting to unravel at the seams, vision whiting out at each brush of him within.

“Tell me you’re close,” he manages to get out, “wanna come with you.”

You’re nodding, “Like that — yeah yeah yeah.” He’s rolling against you harder now. Movements faltering with each erratic thrust, both of you chasing your ends in tandem. Flames kick up in your belly, heart ready to burst when he cups your ass and angles your hips in a way that has him bullying that spongy spot within, leaving you breathless, lightning cracking through your body. “Fuck.”

Bliss. Complete and utter bliss settles over you as he slowly lowers himself down onto the bed beside you, arms keeping you held closely to his body. His lips are at your forehead and you’re running your fingers along his chest, the thump of his heart hard and heavy against your fingertips. Every inch of you is heavy and sticky sweet, molten lava still bubbling in your blood, practically humming in the post-orgasm haze.

Perfect. He’s perfect and wholly and utterly yours, kissing you slow and deep like he’s thinking the same very thing.

Three words.

Three words weave into your heart, still unspoken, and yet there all the same.

Three words that will change everything once spoken out loud.

But for now — for now you roll over and press your head over his sternum. You lace your fingers in his and allow him to pull blankets over your body, blocking out the chill in the air as your sweat cools and you relax into the heat of his form.

For now, you lean up and kiss him goodnight. Whisper for him to sleep sweet, and he tells you the same.

Not now, you think, but soon.

——

Insatiable.

Steve is utterly insatiable, you find, in those first few hours of arriving in St Lucia. Your suite overlooks the ocean, but that first evening you don't leave the bed, except for when room service comes to bring you food and drinks for nourishment.

From the moment you’d entered, he’d had his mouth on you. Hot and determined to see you fall apart before he rolled you over onto your knees and slid in from behind, coaxing you to watch your reflection in the mirror as he fucked into you with abandon and you shattered around him with a cry of his name on your lips.

You’d managed to find yourselves in the shower after regaining your breath, only to drop down on your knees and take him into your mouth, grinning to yourself as you watched your prim and proper businessman of a husband be reduced to nonsensical babbling of your name, praising your mouth.

Later, you both stood in the kitchen, his arms around your waist, yours around his neck, swaying to a song spilling from his phone speaker. You’d both woken in the middle of the night and slipped away to grab some of the chocolate covered strawberries gifted by the hotel staff. You in a long tee shirt that reached the top of your thighs, him in a pair of pajama pants. All laughter as you snacked, fingers lacing beneath the table, giddy and bright in newfound intimacy.

He’d put on your wedding song and held out a hand, held you close as a candle flickered and haloed the room in a yellow glow.

“You’re my favorite person, Steve.” You’d whispered it to him, fingers gliding along his cheek, over his temple. He leaned into the backs of your fingers, brushed a kiss along the inside of your wrist.

Your eyes fluttered closed and his forehead rested against yours. “And you’re mine, honey. So happy I saw you that day on that rooftop. Asked you to marry me.”

And you’d do it again. A thousand times, you’d do it again — so long as it led you here, to this moment, with this man.

His skin gleamed golden in the dark. Noses brushed, chests flush against one another, hearts beating in tandem. He spun you outward and drew you back in, your back against his front, his mouth on your shoulder, hearts alight.

You stumbled into the bathroom soon thereafter. A bottle of champagne in one hand, glasses in the other, as Steve flicked on the water for the tub and tossed in a ball that smelled like vanilla and reminded you of Steve. Sat with your back against his chest as you both sipped champagne, his fingers rubbing your shoulder, the both of you talking and kissing until every last bubble was gone. Relishing the quiet and solitude of being alone as a couple, without his phone calls, other obligations, without the business or your work and school pulling you away from one another. An oasis, sheltered away from the rest of the world, untouched and singularly yours.

Come morning, you wake Steve with long, languid kisses. With your fingers sliding up and into his hair, running along scalp, mouth unfurling into a smirk as he starts to stir more. With the slide of your knee over his hip when you feel his cock kick up against your abdomen. With the gentle push of his pajamas down his thighs.

He grips your hip as you clamber up and over him, exhales shakily as you take him in hand and sink down slowly onto him, inch by inch, until you’re flush against his skin. You rock slowly, hands against his abdomen, head thrown back in a strangled moan.

“That’s it, baby. Just like that,” he rasps, rising up to hold you in his arms, a hand guiding you, his hips rolling up from the bottom of you.

And you know, as your chests later press tight together and you slump against his form in satisfaction, everything has changed.

——

please let me know what you think! comments, reblogs, messages are all loved and appreciated — as always. 💌

next chapter, you head to hawkins and spend time with friends and family, and steve gets a look into another world…

[blorbocedes]

why am i getting stressed about this hunger games au.......... how does the games end? they're getting to the final few tributes... they know they have to kill each other..... i dont like this mom come pick me up im scared

they stop wearing their weapons to sleep. Its still within hand's reach but not on their body. the gamemakers make it unreasonably cold at night and they can't light a fire and have the smoke give away their location so they have to conserve body heat by holding each other.

one of the final jobs is a couple from a district. they got together during the training games allegedly. brocedes each take one, and their teamwork is better. nico tells lewis its a strategy, previous games if two people claimed they were in love, hapless people in the Capitol kept them alive for longer to see the doomed tragedy work out. probably weren't even actually in love.

nico's first kill had been the girl from his district -- equally trained to be a Victor and thus his biggest enemy. lewis hadn't connected with the older woman from his district, focusing on his own survival, and she died pretty early on. now he feels a pang of guilt, that he chose nico over someone from his own district.

paranoia starts creeping in. the final tribute is missing. they make a pact to kill him together so neither gets a head start when it's just the two of them left. nico dreams of his father, what the games must have been like for him, no footage of his father's games exists ofc because of the nature of how he won, of nico being nine and taught how to put down a dog. lewis dreams of his family, his district, how he can help them when he wins — bring prosperity. and sometimes they dream of each other, somewhere far away from here.

every night they don't kill each other is like waiting with bated breath. lewis gets more sponsor gifts now. keke hasn't sent anything in a while. Is he disappointed nico isn't getting the job done? did the stress of old age catch up to him in a heart attack? the silence feels pointed.

nico realizes lewis is the better story, the better underdog to root for. lewis thinks nico is the legacy, son of a Victor, the face that breaks a thousand hearts and sells even more advertisements. they're both hyper aware every night can be their last and every night they hold each other a little tighter, clawing into the other trying to leave a mark. when lewis moves to kiss him, nico looks beyond him - at the cavern walls - and tells him to make it a good one for the show. the cameras that are constantly watching them, out of sight. but lewis can feel nico's heart thudding faster. its real enough.

the next morning there's two silver parachutes on opposite ends of the arena. one is sent by keke. the other is sent by lewis' entire impoverished village collecting their savings to send one sponsor gift. they both set out. they're both separated.

there's a cannon fire and then the hologram of the final tribute.

someone broke the promise.

and then there were two.

[baby-babeyy]

Jonmund + Targaryen Jon

AU where Robert’s rebellion doesn’t happen and Jon is brought up in Kings Landing with his father Rhaegar and his sibling’s after his mother dies giving birth to him.

He has a relatively happy childhood, but he knows his siblings resent him for not sharing their mother, and his fathers pained look every time he sees him tells him he’s nothing but a painful reminder of his mother.

As the second son, he’s not the immediate heir to the throne, so in an effort to connect with his mothers family his father allows him to ride north to spend time in Winterfell with the Starks.

He flourishes in the north, finding he fits in better than he does in the south- he certainly feels he’s more Stark than Targaryen.

The Starks love having him around, he and Robb become as close as brothers, Sansa adores his tales of life in the capital and he spends more time than is proper for a Prince playing with Arya, Bran and Rickon.

The years he spends at Winterfell are the happiest of his life yet, though he misses his father and his siblings the cold and wild terrain agrees with him far more than the heat and politics and social expectations of the south.

When they discover the direwolves, they offer one to Jon, telling him he’s as much a Stark as they are. He and Ghost become inseparable, but secretly Jon worries about what will happen when he has to return home, for Kings Landing is surely no place for a direwolf.

As he gets older he knows that the day he has to return south grows closer, so he decides to make the most of the north while he can, and takes to sneaking out on a night and riding alone with Ghost, as it’s the only way he can get away from the constant chaperones forced on him as a Prince.

One of the nights he’s out riding he’s hit by a terrible snowstorm, he falls from his horse, is separated from Ghost, and finds himself so cold he’s unable to move.

He lies there in the woods, no clue where he is for how long he doesn’t know; it could be minutes, it could be hours that he lies drifting in and out of consciousness.

The only thing he registers is at some point being lifted into strong arms and suddenly feeling warmth for the first time in what felt like forever.

When he wakes the storm has passed, and he’s lying next to a campfire with several people in light grey and white furs stood around him - he recognises them as wildlings.

A tall man with a ginger beard explains that they found him half dead in the woods, and when he asks why they didn’t just leave him he gestures at the Valyrian steel haninging from his belt.

‘You’ve got a pretty sword, and if your fighting skills are anywhere near as good as your weapon, we could use you beyond the wall’

Jon panics at the thought of going beyond the wall, of the wildlings wanting him to be one of them. He’d heard from the northerners that they were feral, rapists and thieves and murderers.

But when he sees a red headed girl elbow the tall man and whisper ‘his sword isn’t the only thing you thinks pretty’ to he met with a shove and a laugh, he doesn’t see how the people that saved his life could he that bad.

In a fit of impulsivity he decides to go with them. He’s always been too much of a Stark for Kings Landing; despite how much he loved it there the people of Winterfell all see him as a Targaryen; maybe he can find where he belongs beyond the wall?

As they’re setting off on their journey north, they ask Jon his name. He almost tells them, but then thinks better of it, knowing that his family could be known beyond the wall and he doesn’t want his name getting him sent back, or worse killed.

He settles on ‘Jon Snow’, the surname of Northern bastards, and is slightly ashamed of himself to find it feels more like his name than ‘Jon Targaryen’ ever has.

The further North he gets the more he finds he enjoys life with the wildlings- or free folk as they call themselves.

Tormund, as he finds the tall man is called, tells him all about their philosophies, how they’ve chosen their leader unlike the kneelers down south, and they become very close on their journey.

Despite being a King’s son, and in the line of succession, he actually agrees with what they say thinking that if the people of Westeros chose their own leaders, a lot of suffering could easily be avoided.

He didn’t think he’d be this happy with the free folk but he is.

Climbing the wall is a whole different story.

The Wall is the tallest thing he’s ever seen, at least twice the height of the top of the Red Keep, and with no stairs in sight.

The only thing that keeps him going on his ascent is Tormund’s occasional teasing remarks and the knowledge that the only way he’s making it alive is if he follows them up.

The horrendous climb is almost worth the view at the top. He feels like he’s on top of the world and when he turns to share his grin with Tormund, that’s when the wildling kisses him for the first time.

Jon’s so taken aback he nearly topples off the wall, and very may well have fallen to his death if not for Tormund’s strong arms catching him.

The taller man apologises, saying he knows that sort of thing is frowned upon in the south and promising that since Jon clearly doesn’t feel the same he’ll never do it again, etc etc....

While Tormund is rambling in an uncharacteristically nervous way, Jon thinks about the kiss and how much he enjoyed it. He knows that the Southerners wouldn’t approve but he’s not a southerner anymore is he?

Tormund is still talking when Jon shuts him up by kissing him again. They stand there, hands grasping each other tight, lips locked together, and wind whipping at their faces until Ygritte shouts over at them that they better wait until they’ve climbed down the wall before they fuck.

Jon blushes the entire time he’s climbing down the wall, thinking about Tormund’s body pressed against his own, and Ygrittes crude words, and everything that waits for him beyond the wall.

When they finally have their feet on the ground Tormund grabs him again, kissing him hard, and whispering ‘when we get to the camp I’ll kiss you properly Jon Snow’ before walking off with the rest of the group.

Jon’s knees go a little bit weak at the thought of the kisses he’s experienced so far not even being proper kisses, and Ygritte seems to notice this by the way she smacks his ass and shouts laughing ‘Come on Jon Snow, leave your innocence behind that wall!’.

Once they reach the wildling camp, some of his excitement leaves him and is replaced by fear and anticipation at meeting the King Beyond the Wall.

If it wasn’t for Tormund by his side on his way there he might have run the other way at the site of giants or the Thenn as Tormund calls the wildings with scarred faces who look at his as if he’s food.

Meeting Mance Rayder isn’t as scary as he first thought it might be, but what he tells Jon exceeds any sort of terror he’d ever felt before.

He understands why they took him beyond the wall with them- if he had known about the army of the dead marching south he may have suggested they stop to collect more. But he doesn’t truly believe it until a stray wight stumbles into their camp.

Mance tells him that they need to get everyone south of the wall, or the hundreds of thousands of free folk gathered will die, and become part of the dead’s army, who will inevitably then march south, and take all of the seven kingdoms. He says that they’re to begin marching for Castle Black immediately, ready to kill all the brothers of the Nights Watch if they must.

Jon offers him a different solution, knowing the Jon Snow may not be able to help, but Prince Jon of House Targaryen can.

He reveals his identity to Mance, and the other free folk (Tormund is smug to find out that he’s been fucking a Prince the entire time and doesn’t stop mentioning it until Ygritte threatens him with an arrow through the eye if he doesn’t shut up).

Jon, Mance, Tormund, Ygritte and a select few others all head to castle black ahead of the rest of the Free Folk in hopes that when they arrive they’ll be able to walk straight through with no bloodshed.

It’s not a smooth journey unfortunately- Jon sees his first White Walker and feels fear grip him in the way the Wight never did. The look of understanding in the walkers eyes makes him feel colder than any snow storm, or wall of ice ever has.

They tell Jon to run, that without fire or dragonglass they cannot kill the white walker. Jon falls down in his efforts to escape, and in a desperate bid he swings his sword. The walkers body shatters then and there, and Jon feels relief like he never has before.

“Valyrian steel, you’re full of surprises aren’t you little prince” Tormund says, before pulling him into a fierce hug, and planting a desperate kiss on his lips. “Now, never scare me like that again” he says deadly serious and Jon laughs in spite of himself.

At Castle Black however there is no time for laughing. They’re immediately met with drawn swords and notched arrows, until Jon shouts his name and hesitantly the brothers withdraw their weapons.

Lord Commander Mormont says they will have to be kept in the cells until they can get proof of Jon’s identity, which the hastily agree to.

He explains the situation beyond the wall, and Mormont seems to believe him, permitting him to send ravens to his Uncle Ned in Winterfell who can come to identify the supposed Prince.

Days later he’s led out of the cells to the courtyard of Castle Black, still in chains, only to be knocked over by Ghost and shortly after, Arya, who’s no longer the little girl he remembered.

When he gets back to his feet he’s embraced just as aggressively by his Uncle and Robb, who almost shed a tear at the sight of him.

They tell him he was presumed dead after he went missing and Ghost showed up at Winterfell alone. Arya plasters herself to his side even as Mormont is unchaining him, and Ned tells him fondly that she couldn’t be persuaded to stay at Winterfell when there was a chance he was alive.

[His little cousin had supposedly ran away to Braavos once Jon had gone missing, returning a more skilled swordsman than anyone at Winterfell - Jon was proud of her even if both Robb and Ned looked torn apart at the memory of her leaving.]

Mormont and the brothers apologise profusely for keeping him in the cells - “I hope you understand your grace, but we had no way to tell who you were.”

Jon politely asks that his companions be released and at this the men of the watch bristle. They’ve been fighting wildlings their whole lives, they say, they aren’t about to just let a bunch of them free in Castle Black.

He’s angry at their response, but he somewhat understands, and he heads down into the cells to apologise. He presses his forehead against Tormund’s through the bars and touches his hand with his own, promising he won’t be left their for long, he just needs to convince the watch.

He starts with Ned and Robb, telling them all about the wights, begging them to believe him. They trust him, and so vouch for him to Mormont, saying that the wildlings can stay in the lands surrounding Winterfell, and Mormont reluctantly agrees to open the gates for the free folk when they arrive.

Jon tells Ned about the army of the dead, how they need to gather all the living and defeat them. Ned agrees to call his bannermen, and tells him that his father will agree to call all the Houses to march North, but that they will need proof before they do so.

So Jon arranges an expedition beyond the wall, himself (much to Ned’s disapproval), Tormund, Ygritte, and three brothers of the watch, Edd, Pyp, and Grenn. Mance stays at Castle Black awaiting the rest of the Free Folk so that he can lead them south with Ned.

While beyond the wall they manage to capture a lone wight, despite all the tension between the Free Folk and the watch- but it doesn’t come without cost.

Jon, Tormund and Edd return to Castle Black sombrely with the rest of their party gone, and the smell of smoking bodies still on their clothes.

There’s no time to mourn however, as soon as they’re back, Jon, Ned and Tormund (who refuses to leave Jon) head for Kings Landing with a select few northern guards, leaving behind a Night’s Watch who are now convinced of the army of the dead, and all the wildlings now safely south of the wall.

It’s a long journey to King’s Landing, even by boat, and Tormund complains the entire time of the ever increasing heat. Jon thinks his uncle can tell from the fond way he smiles at Tormund, and the gingers hungry gaze what’s happening between them, but he’s gracious enough not to mention it. All he says one night before they retire is a whispered ‘be careful’, a small smile, and a pat on the shoulder.

Jon feels guilty to say he hasn’t missed Kings Landing, not the smell, or the heat, or the millions of people confined in a tiny space.

But when his father clutches him in is arms, shedding tears with no shame, saying how he’d missed him while he was gone- that he had missed.

It’s evident from the lack of reaction (for Rhaegar the tears and shouting had barely scratched the surface of a reaction) that Ned hadn’t told him about the months Jon had been missing, and he tried his best to avoid it.

But when trying to explain why he had gone beyond the wall, there was no way to phrase it without getting his Uncle into trouble.

Jon’s sure that the only thing stopping Rhaegar from hitting Ned is that 1) Ned had spent the entire time out searching and 2) Jon had insisted that his uncle didn’t authorise him to leave.

Then they get onto the important stuff.

They reveal to the King the wight and he immediately responds with ‘how do we stop them’. Jon tells him about their plan, of meeting the dead with an army as large as they can get, and Rhaegar immediately sends the order for all the armies in the seven kingdoms to march north.

He also says he will write to Daenerys, who’s been in Essos since Jon went to Winterfell, liberating Slavers Bay, and becoming a ruler in her own right. She now supposedly commands an army of Unsullied, the Dothraki, and has three dragons.

Rhaegar sends them back up north, saying he’ll wait for Dany and that the armies should be shortly behind him, taking with them all the dragonglass they can find (thankfully his Uncle Viserys had long since found the stores below Dragonstone, where he became Lord as soon as he was of age).

Jon is shocked by how clingy Tormund is with him for the entire trip back, but Tormund tells him that despite the huge army they’re building and the possibility of three dragons, there’s still no certainty they’ll win this war, and he wants to make the most of every last moment with Jon. (If Jon tears up a little at this Tormund never tells anyone.)

He’s stood on the battlements at Winterfell with Sansa, now a woman grown, Arya, Robb, Ned, and of course Tormund, looking out at the armies of free folk, northmen, and the rest of the noble houses who arrived not long ago, when he first sees a dragon - or rather three of them.

They’re huge, magnificent creatures, and Jon can just make out Dany on the back of the largest one, and his father and Viserys on the other two. Out in the distance he can see the thousands of Unsullied marching in perfect formation, and the stomping of thousands of dorthraki close behind.

With them comes Jorah Mormont, who announces himself as Queensguard to Daenerys. When Jon tells him of meeting his father he looks away in shame, telling him he has dishonoured his house, and hopes to make up for it by serving his Queen loyally.

The dragons finally land, and Jon ventures over to reunite with his family and meet the dragons. They’re even more amazing up close, and they don’t seem to mind him, his father, and uncle, but they huddle around Daenerys like young children with their mothers. (It makes sense when she’s announced as Queen Daenerys of the Bay of Dragons, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons).

Jon wants to desperately to hear about how his aunt came to be a queen beyond the narrow sea, but they have more immediate problems.

They hold a war council, with all the great lords, the three eldest Targaryen siblings, all the Stark children but Bran and Rickon, Mance Rayder, Tormund and of course Jon.

They decide upon a preemptive strike- if they can wipe out the dead before they cross the wall and avoid a battle they sure as hell will.

The decision they come to is that Dany and Viserys (riding on Drogon and Viserion) will fly across the wall and destroy as many wights as possible with dragonfire.

Rhaegar tries to insist he go as well, but everyone refuses to allow the King to go with them due to the risk.

They all wait while the two of them fly north, holding their breath for any sign of them.

After what feels like days, there is a lone screech, and a singular flying figure on the horizon.

Dany and Drogon land, and she’s stood looking angry as Jon had ever seen her.

She chokes out that the leader of the White Walkers, who she dubs the Night King, killed Viserion and Viserys with him.

They know now they will have to face them in battle, on their side of the wall, so they immediately begin forging weapons made of dragonglass and fortifying Winterfell.

They receive a message from Last Hearth, clearly written in a rush, reading ‘the dead are here, they are coming’.

They send Dany out as a scout, to estimate how long they have before the dead are upon them. Once she returns, telling them they have days at most they all ready for battle.