#the mental image of him coming home after a long day and having a good exhale after sucking in his tummy all day is nice

[starshipsofstarlord]

locked away

summary. whilst hiding out from walkers in a closet, you grow extremely bored. the only thing to do is daryl, but you have to make sure he stays quiet

warnings. smut, handjob, sub!daryl, dom!reader, praising, mentions of gagging, crying

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

The aroma of cigarette smoke that clung addictively to his clothes filled your nostrils as you hid in union together, avoiding the stream of deadly walkers that marched in their haphazard staggering through the wide hallway. There had been worse that you survived through, so as long as you didn’t alert the parasites that filled the decayed human bodies of your presence, you would be fine.

Boredom struck you after the first hour of leaning all of your weight against the chipped brick wall, listening without consent to the groans and growls of the dangerous passers-by. If you had a nickel for each time you expressively rolled your eyes that had adjusted to the shadows which conjured a graphite colouring to which you could see, you would be astoundingly rich in a world without cash currency.

You had an impulse to blabber out the most random thoughts that appeared intrusively in your mind, although you were sure if you dared to your beloved Daryl would gag your mouth with that dirty red rag and tell you to shut up; and it wouldn’t be a first time for that. Your shoulders slumped defeatedly as the pressing circumstances of the long and drawn out waiting game refused to come to an end.

How many goddamn walkers were out there? Actually that was an answer you’d rather not find out whilst you were contained in a narrow closet which was consumed with lacklustre silence. Daryl wouldn’t even meet your eyes in the dark space, sternly pent up from your antics during the run that had lead you into being entrapped by your own free will and vigilance to live another day. He was pissed, and worst of all in this circumstance; turned on.

His pools of pitiful blue distinctly avoided your gaze, trying his darnest to focus on the stakes that were against you both. But he was pursued by a cloaking of consuming lust, his shoulders rigid as he thought repeatedly of your earlier words. If you’re a good boy, then maybe we’ll have some fun before we get home. It wasn’t likely to happen now, the bowman thought intuitively, sharply discarding the sweet images of pleasing you from his brain.

These walkers were preying risk to more than just his life, he felt like he could explode from the overbearing desire to feel your hands rake upon his entire body, and he mentally cursed as he felt his cock spring to life at just the the sinful thought. He grunted in solitary longing, pacing with light and feline like steps as much as he could in the limited ground that was cemented in the storage room.

“Something wrong?” You almost inaudibly spoke, cocking your head as the corners of your mouth twitched in mocking amusement, and he would have whined in response if there wasn’t the threat of the passing walkers merely inches away. “Come here, let me help you baby.” His head was lowered in a submissive bow as he followed your command, creeping towards you until your chests were all but touching.

It was something you adored, to see Daryl in such a state, and it made you feel powerful without any limits. The flow of your bloodstream began to pound with revelations with what you could make your obedient man disperse himself to. It was like he was a buffet of possibilities, however his arousal was rubbing against your thigh, making you recall his desperation, and it would be satire and cruel for you to allow him to suffer without your amorous caregiving.

You shuffled, keeping a balance on your body weight so that you didn’t accidentally stagger backwards into the buckets or moulding mops that were leant against the wall to your left, as you lowered your hands to his wide hips, giving him an affectionate squeeze before you turned him in your embrace so that his back was facing your front.

Admittedly there were times where you loved to listen to him beg and cry for lustrous attention, but now was not the time; neither one of you could make so much as a speck of noise, it was going to be difficult as often times Daryl would draw out long and pathetically attractive moans each time you held contact with his cock in any manner, but he would just have to be quiet somehow, and if he couldn’t control himself, you had ideas of how to make him.

“Be a good boy.” You whispered with sultry warning in his ear as you reached further around him, slowly and tantalisingly unweaving his belt, pulling the strip of leather through the flimsy loops which granted you access to undo the button and fly of his trousers. With swift motions you did so, carefully shoving them down his sides as his cock was released from its containment. It was leaking defiantly with precum, and he resorted to calming breaths as he steadied his own self into being relaxed despite the nearby danger.

He inhaled immediately as he felt one of your hands wrap perfectly around his achingly hard length, gliding up and down the taught and erect flesh which made him throw his long locked head back in pleasure. His eyelids twitched as he fought against his desire to let you know how utterly amazing you were making him feel, as he bit his own bottom lip over and over. You dared to increase the pace in which you were stroking him, and a shattered gasp tumbled past his bared teeth.

Without so much as a thought, you smothered his mouth with your hand, pinching his nose a couple of times between your thumb and forefinger to restrain the oxygen he was permitted for a few seconds. A vibration riveted against your palm, as a quiet moan was silenced by your restriction. His whole body was rattling, as he began to rut his hips so that his cock was moving in the grasp of your soft hand.

“Such a good baby.” Your breath hit his ear as you forbade yourself from saying anything else, knowing that it would be obscenely dangerous, and the hoard of vacantly minded walkers were more than capable of pushing through the locked door. Your thumb rubbed expertly against his tip, as tears began to fill Daryl’s eyes, however he continued to jerk into your grip, and soon they fled from his tear ducts. His salt water, pleasure filled tears rolled onto your hand, weaving across your flesh as his tongue rolled pathetically around your palm, losing any grounding to reality that he had.

It drove you on farther, moving your hand at a quicker pace to make him spill over the edge, and with one last tough tug, he expelled his seed from his balls, it shooting directly in the air for a moment, and landing vividly on the ground. Daryl continued to shake like a leaf, breathing a kind kiss to your palm as he held your hand against his mouth for a while longer. This was definitely an interesting tale, however you would never tell anybody else. Everyone else thought Daryl was the being of all dominance in your relationship, and it made you inwardly cackle at how wrong you were.

He was as submissive as a human could come (pun intended), and he stood there idly and cautiously as you aided him in tucking his cock back into his confines. You grappled his belt, pulling it back around into its holding as you pulled it tightly around his waist, your eyes glowing with the satisfaction that you could make him so easily crumble. With one last pat to his sensitive bulge, you waited a while longer, until the coast was clear and it was only a few stragglers of the herd to take out in order to make your unruly escape.

[suashii]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝒴𝒪𝒰, 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝑀𝐸

info ⭑ gojo x reader. 1.7 wc. sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au ﾉ navigating relationships

“did you miss me while you were at work?”

you jokingly roll your eyes, having expected the question. gojo asks you the same thing over the phone each time you’re making the walk home. he expects a certain answer, one you usually give to him but you’re feeling a little playful tonight. even though he can’t see it, you smile with your next words. “mm, i was a little too busy to think about you.”

there’s a slight pause on the line before gojo replies. “not even a little bit?”

you can hear the pout in his voice and picture the expression in your head—his fluffy white eyebrows pulled together in a frown, bottom lip petulantly poked out. the mental image makes your smile grow wider.

“i’m kidding,” you assure him, adjusting the phone in your hand. he may ask the same question after all of your shifts, but your actual answer never changes. “of course i did.”

his crackly laugh sounds through the speaker and in the chill of the night, it sparks a warmth within you. it’s a sound you’re sure you’ll never get tired of hearing.

“good. i missed you, too.”

you bite your cheek to keep the smile from overtaking your face. it’s been a few months since the two of you started dating but you’re still not used to the unabashed affection gojo continuously shows you. 

you can’t seem to find the right words to respond to his sentiment but the end of your commute gives you the opportunity to change the subject.

“hey, i’m almost home,” you tell gojo as you approach the stairs leading up to your apartment. “i’ll text you when i get inside.”

“sure,” he hums, “talk to you later.”

“bye,” you draw out the vowel before pulling the phone away from your ear and ending the call. you stuff the device in your bag and your hands in your pockets as you make your way up the stairs that’ll take you to your apartment. the cold air nips at the exposed skin of your face, making you pick up the pace in hopes of quickly getting somewhere warmer. as you reach the final step, something catches your attention.

there’s a figure on the wooden platform a few feet from your door. 

it should startle you, but you’re beginning to grow used to the sight. just like his calls, gojo has made a habit of showing up outside your place on nights when you work late. you can’t lie—there’s a certain level of comfort you’re met with each time you’re greeted by the back of his head.

you clear your throat as you walk up to him. “my neighbors are going to start thinking you’re a stalker if you keep showing up like this.”

your voice alerts gojo of your arrival and his head swivels so that he can meet your gaze. there’s a smile tugging at your lips that makes his own curl up at the corners. “can you blame me for wanting to make sure you get home safe?”

bright blue eyes follow you as you come to stand in front of the man. despite the iciness of the air, his coat is left unbuttoned. you’re able to see that he’s wearing a suit underneath his outerwear—he must have come straight here after finishing his internship for the day.

“i just got off the phone with you,” you tell him through a short laugh, pulling your hands out of your pockets to pull his coat closed, though it doesn’t stay. you wonder how long he’s been waiting but you know he won’t tell if you ask.

he leans forward into your touch with his next words. “maybe i want to see you walk through the door with my own eyes.”

“gojo—” before you can get the rest of your sentence out, the man holds a hand out to stop you.

“i told you, it’s satoru.” he’s been persistent about reminding you to call him by his first name ever since the two of you started dating. now is no different and he even goes as far as placing his hands on your waist, sounding out each syllable for you. “sa-to-ru. got it?”

the way he stares up at you with those sparkling eyes and that charming grin makes your heart jump in your chest. expectation lingers behind his gaze and you can sense his anticipation by the way his lithe fingers tap at your waist.

“fine… satoru.” the name still feels foreign on your tongue but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the taste of it. you clear your throat before sliding your hands up onto his shoulders. “you don’t have to keep doing this. it’s starting to get cold outside and you’ll get sick sitting out here.”

he shrugs. “i don’t mind.”

you sigh, readying to drill into him how important his health is when you notice, feel, that his shoulders are trembling with shivers. under a more attentive eye, the redness of his ears and cheeks also make themselves known. despite his carelessness, you can’t find it in yourself to scold him when his actions were so well-intended.

with the click of your tongue, you grab gojo’s tie and give it a gentle tug. “come inside and warm up.”

you weren’t sure it was possible, but gojo’s smile spreads even wider upon hearing your invitation. as if saying “don’t mind if i do,” the man stands to his full height. he towers above you now, but his presence is far from imposing. “after you.”

you lead the way, digging around your bag for your keys. they jingle as you pull them out and the click of your door unlocking sounds throughout the night air. your apartment is dark and as you reach to flip on the light switch, you wonder if you cleaned up this morning. gojo has been here before but you worry about embarrassing yourself with a mess.

though, you can’t stand around in the darkness forever. hoping that the unit is presentable, you turn on the main light. brightness floods the area and, to your credit, nothing more than a misplaced jacket dirties the room. you give yourself a mental pat on the back while you hang up your keys. when you turn to look at gojo, he’s in the process of shedding his coat. you mirror his actions but remind him, “you can’t stay long. i have an early shift tomorrow.”

he doesn’t stop taking his coat off but his smile is traded in for a frown. you’ve all but kicked him out before he’s even gotten settled, and because of work, at that. he’s beginning to think your coworkers see you more often than he does. he drapes his coat on the back of one of the chairs in your kitchen. “you know, if you moved in with me, you could quit your job.”

you almost laugh before you realize he isn’t joking. gojo has always been direct—since before you were dating and when the two of you got together—so his suggestion shouldn’t be surprising. still, every offer he makes to pamper and spoil you tends to catch you off guard. it’s not the proposals themselves, no, but the way he brings them up so casually as if they should be a given—expected.

everything about dating gojo is different from past relationships you’ve had. he expresses his love in ways unfamiliar to you, ways that are sometimes difficult for you to accept—not because you don’t want to but because you aren’t sure how. it doesn’t seem to bother gojo but you wonder when the time will come when you’re comfortable enough to consider taking him up on his offer.

“tempting, but no. ask me again in a couple of months,” you tell him over your shoulder from your place at the kitchen counter. you know he will. “want some tea?”

outwardly unaffected by your rejection, gojo hums in confirmation as he takes a seat at your table. it doesn’t take you long to prepare the warm beverage and place a cup of it in front of the man. you plop down across from him with a mug of your own.

“how was your day?” you ask him before taking a cautious sip of your tea.

“same old, same old,” he replies, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his cupped palms. it squishes his cheeks and gives him a youthful appearance.

under the fluorescent lights of your kitchen, it’s impossible not to pick up on the dark crescents below his eyes. now that the cold isn’t keeping him alert, you can tell just how exhausted he is.

“really? you look kind of tired.”

he brushes off your concern. “i’m fine.”

the phrase is one that gojo utters often but you’re having a hard time believing him tonight. it wouldn’t be safe for him to drive home in his current condition. even though you had been pretty adamant about him taking his leave earlier, you reconsider.

“why don’t you stay here tonight?” you suggest, holding the mug in your hands up to your mouth.

that much seems to capture gojo’s attention as his eyes widen in curiosity. you hide the smile threatening your lips behind your mug.

“are you sure?”

it’s at this moment that you realize—maybe the way you love is unfamiliar to gojo, too. maybe your invitations come as a surprise in the same way his do to you. and maybe, just like you, he’s wary of accepting your affections, nervous to get too comfortable.

the thought makes you want him to stay even more.

so, without hesitation, you nod. “you look like you’re two seconds away from collapsing. just sleep here.”

“well, if you insist, how could i say no?” gojo grins. it’s a sleepy one that doesn’t reach his eyes but it’s obvious that he’s grateful—for the gesture, of course, but even more so that he’s finally able to spend more time with you, even if that time will be spent sleeping.

you giggle at his response, gathering the cups and putting them in the sink before jerking your head in the direction of your bathroom. “come on, sleepy-head. let’s get ready for bed.”

hey there! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

[i-cant-sing]

Just thinking about Yandere Todoroki clan and reader's random moments.

Reader coming home after a particularly bad day, but poor girl cant even cry or complain without everyone immediately overreacting and pulling you out of school/college or even keeping you from going out at all. So now, reader has to either cry in self pity before she enters her home, wipe her tears and fix herself just enough to show that she hadnt just bawled her eyes out moments ago. That, or do the more risky thing and go home, go to your room and cry under the covers, but then theres always the chance of Rei or the others walking in on you any moment.

Also thinking about baby/toddler reader being sick, just a common cold or flu, nothing major. But with reader whining and being so young, the family's infantalisation goes through the roof and theyd treat you as if you were immunocompromised. I wont lie, but I think Rei is almost kinda... glad when you get sick? She enjoys you being dependant on her for the most things, even when you grow up and are able to handle a cold, she still deludes herself into thinking that you need mommy to come and help you.

I think the one person who is most affected by reader getting sick, no matter what age, is Enji. The man just cant help but view you as a fragile, starving Victorian child the moment you fall ill. In his eyes, even a harsh blow of air is too much for a fragile thing like you, let alone something as bad as the flu. He just- he's holding toddler reader in his arms, who snuggles into his warm body, your tiny nose pink and he cant get the image of you crying and vomiting and being oh so feverish- thats just way too much for your small body. Oh how he almost cried when he took you to the doctor for a shot and you clung to him, trying to bury yourself into him as you begged him to make you feel better, cried to him that you didnt want to get the "big scary needle!" He just had to hold you there in his firm grip as you writhed, had to look away when you looked at him and he saw the feeling of betrayal in your eyes, had to keep himself from not strangling the fucking doctor for not being careful, had to walk out of the clinic and hand you to Rei because he couldnt hear you cry anymore, had to have Rei console both you and Enji (assuring him that "no, Enji. Y/n doesnt resent you for making her get a shot.") and he couldnt even sleep a wink that night because he was standing by your bed, holding your tiny hand with his pinky as a tear finally slipped out of his eye.

ALSO thinking about adult reader going out of the house to meet up with friends, except shes meeting up with them at a club instead of at their house like she told Enji and Rei, and now shes standing outside, abandoned by said friends, and shes now running because a group of pervy men are chasing her and she doesnt know who to call, so she just speed dials Shotou, except someone just changed all your speed dials to one number, and you think youre doomed when Shotou doesnt say a word to you and just hangs up when within minutes, someone comes in front of you-

"Dabi?" He tells you to cover your ears and look away, and you know well by know what that means, so you obey, feeling a bit regretful as those men begin to scream in agony. You dont know how long its been until Dabi pulls your hands away and examines your wounds. He lets you crash into his chest as you sob, and this time, Dabi simply decides to take you home quietly without a lecture.

Hmmm, also thinking about Natsuo who is usually cool as a cucumber, the most normal being in the family, except for his very rare episodes of unbridled rage where he suddenly becomes the Hulk. Good thing for you is that this anger is never directed towards you, rather towards people who actively threaten your life (except Rei cause she gets to play "Im your mom who became mentally unstable because of your abusive dad") The only time NAtsuo is stern with you is when it comes to your health. He's just looking at you with those strict eyes when you refuse to take your multivitamins, or dont want to get a flu shot, or try to make up an excuse so that he cant check your vitals. And when he just grabs your wrist and pulls you to sit down so that he can do his checkup, its in those moments that you realise just how strong your brother is... and how easy it may be for him to overpower you and sedate you if he ever followed through Rei's threats.

[isawritesshit]

The Color Blue - Chapter 1

image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest

Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too.

Warnings and Content: fem! reader and slightly ooc! (?) gojo (ig; i feel like i didn't write him as in character as i wanted), cursing, allusions to and anxiety about marriage consummation, themes of traumatized and anxiety-ridden reader, themes of forced/arranged marriage

Author's Note: Fuck me in the ass, it took me wayyy too long to get this out to y'all I'M SOOOO SORRY GUYS I DIED AND NOW I AM REBORN BACK AND SEXIER THAN EVER! Anyway, I'm at least happy to finally get this out for you guys because you guys gave me so much love for the prologue (mwah mwah). If you have yet to read the prologue, pleaseee do so! Provides some good context to the premise of the story. I'm going to flag once more that there will be themes of nsfw and physical/mental abuse down the line!

Word Count: ~7.3k

___________________________________________________________

"Are you afraid of me?"

He spoke. You masked your surprise easily. Did you look afraid? What made him suspect that? How do you answer?

Respond clearly. "No, Gojo-sama. Apologies if I seem at all startled in any way. I am taking in my new surroundings," you replied with a slight incline of your head towards him.

Satoru's eyebrows raised a little. It was the first time he had ever heard your voice. As he suspected, it was graceful and beautiful, but still so sad. And what was with the honorifics? He waited a second for you to say something else, but nothing came. "Do you like it? The house that is." Satoru figured the only way to get anything out of you was to ask himself.

He asked you a question. Respond clearly. Tell him what he wishes."Yes, your home is beautiful Gojo-sama. I'm very fortunate to be living here as your wife." Your words sounded exactly the same, clipped and poised to perfection like the small smile you had on your face. Your skin was cold despite the amount of fabric that covered it, but you refused to shiver. You refused to tremble despite the fear you were feeling. Yes, you had trained and prepared yourself for this. You would be fine.

Satoru only cocked his head and crossed his legs, observing you like a painting from where he sat on the couch. "Thank you." His voice conveyed his usual charisma, but the look he was giving you did not. He sighed as you only bowed your head again and said nothing. He could tell you were afraid, you just didn't wish to admit it. Was it stubbornness or nervousness that had you standing like that before him, looking both strong and weak at the same time?

After a few moments, he spoke again, this time with a little more calmness and reassurance. "I don't bite, y'know." Not a word left your lips at that. You didn't even move. It was like he had a statue standing in a wedding dress in the middle of his foyer. Not a statue, a corpse, with unfeeling, empty eyes. Maybe you weren't happy with the current situation. "Did you like the reception? I'm sure you had input in the planning."

Take this chance to show your worth. "I planned the entire reception, Gojo-sama. I hope it was to your liking." You clasped your hands even tighter as you waited for his reaction.

Satoru raised his eyebrows. "Oh, wow. I'm sorry then, I'm sure you liked it because you put it all together. Well, uh, I definitely enjoyed it, and I'm sure everyone else did too. You did a great job. Uh, thank you," Satoru chuckled. He meant every word. Planning an event of that nature must have been a daunting task and you had done it all on your own. You must be pretty independent.

"Of course, Gojo-sama. It was my duty," you replied with another bow. The fear in your gut subsided at his words. It seemed he could be won over by acts of service.

Duty. That's when it clicked in Satoru's head. You saw this as 100% a duty. Well, it wasn't like he didn't see this arrangement as a duty too, but it had always been more than that to him. It was both a duty and an enjoyment. At least, that's what he hoped it would be for the both of you.

He said nothing for a few moments. You didn't move. He could tell by the uncomfortable silence that the household staff was probably listening from somewhere nearby. Perhaps that also made you uneasy. "Let's head somewhere more private," Satoru murmured, and stood from the couch.

Private? A chill ran down your spine that worsened when he made his way over to you. Were you both going to-

You remained silent as he took your arm gently and led you up the steps of the grand staircase. He moved slowly, watching and searching you for any indication of emotion or feeling, but you gave him none. He cleared his throat before speaking once more. "That outfit seems uncomfortable. I'm surprised you've been able to wear it all day."

Your mind was running circles around his words, but you didn't show it. Is he going to offer to take it off me? Why is he being so gentle with me? Where is he leading me? A bridal chamber? A bedroom? "It is not uncomfortable, just a little heavy," you responded, forcing yourself to keep your voice even. "The tailors did a fabulous job with it."

Satoru hummed and muttered his agreement. He would take this as slow as possible. He knew that the first thing he would have to do was make you comfortable. "I see. If you would like, you may change out of it, and I can take you on a tour of the rest of the estate. Or, you can sleep if you're tired."

This seems like a test, you thought. Which option would he prefer? "I can change and join you on a tour of the home," you responded. "If that is what you wish of me."

Not exactly the answer he was looking for, but an answer nonetheless. "Alright. I'll show you your bedroom. It's apart of my rooms of the estate. I hope that's alright," he said as he guided you towards a set of double doors down the hall.

Satoru stepped before you to open the doors himself, a few staff members walking out past. You assumed that they were finishing their cleaning for the night. You could tell a few of them looked at you as they passed, though you never looked up to meet their gaze.

You could tell these were Gojo's chambers, as they were decorated somewhat differently from the rest of the house. While the entire house had a more contemporary feel to it, his part of the estate added western styles to it: gray and white furnishing, an upstairs that led to an open second floor balcony overlooking the first floor living room space, comfortable carpeting, and a woodsy, homey scent. There was a dining area and billiards further to the right to entertain guests. Truly a home within a home.

Satoru led you up the stairs, watching as you looked over the second floor railing into the living room. When you reached the top, he gestured to the first door on the left. "This is my bedroom here, in case you ever need to find me," he said as he moved you two forward. "And this one is yours." He opened the next door over.

Satoru let you step into the room first. "I wasn't sure what you would prefer in terms of the color of the room and everything, so I had a few of my staff design it for me. Do you like it?" he asked, a slight guilt to his tone. He felt bad that he knew almost nothing about you. He didn't even know where to start when he began planning to incorporate you into his home, but he figured an inviting bedroom would be a start.

"Yes, very much so" you replied. The room was bigger than your one at the Kamo estate. The furniture was made of oak wood, with the room itself having accents in white and various shades of purple. The canopy bed was plush and had silk sheets. Most of your attention was drawn towards the bookshelf in one corner, which already had some of your books as well as many new ones. The closed curtains, which had little butterflies sown on them, had moonlight escaping into the room. The wall to the right had another door, which you assumed led to the bathroom and closet. "Thank you for arranging this for me, Gojo-sama."

You moved your gaze down as you turned to face him. "Of course," he chirped.

Silence once more.

He sighed audibly. "You're gonna hurt your neck if you keep looking down like that, pretty girl. Especially with that monstrosity on your head," he said softly as he approached you. You stilled, jumping a bit as Satoru reached his hands forward to grasp the top of the headpiece. "Shh, I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? Just taking it off for you," he murmured when he saw you tense up. He removed the headpiece gently, letting your hair fall. He resisted the urge to touch the soft locks upon seeing them unbound, and instead opted for setting the headpiece on a side table. "There. Feels a lot better, doesn't it?"

"Yes. Thank you, Gojo-sama." You still didn't look at him. After a pause you asked, "May I go change now?"

Why did you ask for permission? "Sure," he answered, a little confused as he watched you retreat into the bathroom. He stood awkwardly in the room as he heard you shuffle around behind the door. He sighed and leaned against the bed. What was it that had you so... uptight? Why wouldn't you relax?

Meanwhile, you made yourself busy undressing and slipping out of the heavy fabrics of your wedding garb in the bathroom, hanging up the piece and choosing a simple, flowing dress to change into. You looked into the mirror once more, and paused.

You had forgotten about the white lace lingerie your handmaidens had forced you into while dressing you this morning. A provoking technique, they had called it. It was beautiful, the entire ensemble having been comprised of silk and lace with little flowers adorning it, but you felt incredibly uncomfortable now that you saw yourself with it on. You felt more like a prized ham, wrapped up and ready to be eaten. And that is my responsibility tonight-

Your thoughts were broken by the sound of movement coming from the room. Right. He's still out there. You thought back to how he had taken off your headpiece. You couldn't help but be frightened for a moment, but then the way he removed it had been... gentle, as all his other actions toward you had been.

You were used to men like him: large, imposing sorcerers, with big egos and even bigger amounts of cursed energy. However, when any of those men came close to you, maybe even to just put a hand on your shoulder, their touch was also gentle, but not in the way Satoru was. They were gentle and domineering. Satoru had been both gentle and considerate.

But what he had called you...

It still felt like he was trying to get something out of you. And you didn't like it.

You slipped on the dress over the lingerie, letting the soft velvet material warm you as the skirt ended at your ankles. You had always liked this evening dress.

Satoru's head shot up when he heard the door click open. You stepped back into the room, ready to be led. Your apparel took him aback at first. He had expected you to choose something comfortable, a t-shirt and leggings at least, but you still came out dressed like you were going somewhere. You looked beautiful though, and he supposed it was nice to see you in something that wasn't clan-styled regalia (didn't matter that he was still wearing his outfit from today).

Satoru said nothing as you took his arm and let him lead you into the estate. Although he didn't look directly at you, he observed your movements. Beautifully robotic was the way he could best describe it. But why?

Then it dawned on him. The wedding had been ceremonial, so your actions there he could ignore, but everything after... it was like you were still in the ceremony, even in this moment. He saw it firsthand when you said your goodbyes to your family. You would be seeing them so much less now that you were married, yet neither of your parents nor siblings hugged you or expressed any emotion when sending you off.

Then finally with himself. You never looked at him. You complimented him at every opportunity. You asked for permission to go get dressed.

He could never get you to relax. To be comfortable. It was like you were being monitored by some invisible camera that he couldn't see and that you feared.

Duty. 100% a duty.

He looked down at you once more as you walked down the hallway, eyes trained ahead. Yes, those eyes had been his first sign, he realized. For what once held liveliness and curiosity in youth had been replaced with a senseless, dull husk of what he remembered.

Something had happened in those seven years since he last saw you. He felt sorry for you.

He felt sorry because he felt like this was somehow his fault.

But that wasn't going to stop him from trying to be the best he could to you.

___________________________________________________________

An hour later, Satoru had shown you about half of the estate, everything between recreational rooms, kitchens, dining rooms, and his own personal office. Yet, as he talked, you seemed disinterested, elsewhere.

The both of you were on the first floor, walking down a hallway with floor to ceiling windows on the left wall.

"There's not much left to show you, or at least anything that's interesting anyway. If there's anywhere else you'd like to..." Satoru's voice trailed off when he looked at you again, staring out of the windows as you passed.

There. You looked out the windows toward the estate garden, your eyes wide, glittering, and curious. He opened his mouth and then closed it. You looked like a little girl staring at a new doll in a toy store. Finally, something that he could read from you that you refused to hide. Wonder and interest.

Satoru stopped walking when the two of you reached a set of glass doors that led outside. "Do you want to see the garden?" he asked, almost chuckling when you nodded eagerly. "Let's go then." He opened one of the doors to let you through, watching you with amusement. You still kept your face neutral, hands folded over your chest as you stepped out into the open air before walking, practically running, over to the vast flower beds and trees across the lawn.

He just stared as you bursted with this sudden childlike excitement. So you can be won over somehow. Satoru laughed under his breath, a small smirk on his face as he went to join you. You started by walking between bushes, running your hands along any part of the plants as you could. He never would have guessed that you were interested in plants, but now that he thought about it, it made sense. He could see you being the type of girl that's interested in feminine things. Things like dresses, books, and maybe even chocolate desserts. Things like flowers.

You were kneeling next to a bush of blue hydrangeas as he approached. He thought you looked perfect like this, the moonlight playing off of your hair, skin, and dress while you ran your fingers along petals. However, when you realized he was getting closer, you quickly got up and returned to how you were in the foyer: standing straight, hands clasped, and head bowed. It stopped Satoru in his tracks, but also made him understand a little more of how you worked.

You must see a husband, him, as an authority figure that you have to please. Satoru didn't know why. Maybe your family pushed you to be a good wife, but now you're just taking it too far. You must be able to relax when you're comfortable, or when you're alone. That had to be it. Right now, you seem to view this place as comforting, so he had to be the same.

And if he seemed to make you feel uncomfortable, he would leave you alone.

But first, he had to try to get through to you.

"Do you like gardens?" Satoru asked, even though the answer was really fucking obvious.

"Yes, Gojo-sama," you replied. "I like flowers and plants. They are a great enjoyment of mine. Your garden is the most magnificent I have ever seen."

It was the best Satoru had ever seen too, but at this point, he couldn't tell if you were lying to him just to make him happy. He took a step closer and huffed a little. "Y'know... you don't have to call me that. I mean, I'm your husband, not the emperor," he chuckled, though he was dead serious. Laughing through it was the only way to show that he wasn't mad at you. "Why do you like flowers? Or these ones in particular?" He gestured to the bush that you had been admiring.

If you were nervous or scared, you didn't show it. You seemed to be pondering for a moment as you looked at the bush. "I... don't know. Flowers have interested me since I was a child. I used to keep up a garden at home."

A garden that you'll never get to take care of again, he realized. "Well, if you want or... if you need something to do, I can have someone show you where we keep our gardening supplies. You can do as much or as little as you like of course."

Your eyes lit up at the request. "That would be lovely, Gojo-" He could tell you were about to add the "-sama" at the end, but stopped yourself. He still smiled at the way that you seemed to beam in the current setting.

"What other things do you like? Do you have any hobbies?" Satoru asked, watching as you continued to run your hands along the plant.

"I like music," you stated.

"Really? You play any instruments?" He proceeded to raise his eyebrows as you listed a slew of different types that you knew how to play, though you added that piano was your favorite. "What else?"

"I like... cooking, and cats, and," you settled one of the hydrangeas in your hand, "the color blue."

Satoru hummed in response. He felt like he was getting somewhere. "Really? Well in that case, I guess I should've had your room be that color."

"Purple is still just as nice," you replied with a small smile. It was brief, but he could tell it was genuine. It took his breath away. It was almost embarrassing, this effect you were having on him.

"Yeah, I guess." Satoru dared to move a step closer to you. He could see you tense, and decided this was as far as he would get. Maybe now was the time to get some answers out of you. He watched your hand continue to rub the petals. "How do you feel about... all of this. Really."

"Your garden is dazzling-"

"No, I mean our... situation. Be honest with me," he said gently, but the way he worded it almost made it sound like he was pleading with you.

You paused before answering. Your hand stopped moving. "This marriage is just as important to me as it is to my father and the Kamo name. I will do right by him to ensure that it succeeds. And not just for him, but for you as well." Your tone was light and sophisticated, your voice sweet as can be, but it still felt fabricated. Rehearsed. Satoru wasn't buying it.

After a few moments, he decided to try something a little bold. "Look. I'm not your father, okay? And this isn't the Kamo estate. You don't have to be so... restrictive around me. I know this is, like, your first time ever talking to me, but I'm not some authoritarian." He almost regretted the words when he saw your guilty face. "But of course, that also means I'm not going to control the way you act. You can do whatever you want, say whatever you want. It's all fine by me." Silence again. "(Y/N)?"

You seemed... confused. Satoru spoke again. "Are you feeling alright? All I'm saying is I want you to be comfortable here. If that means... not interacting with me as much, then I get that."

Still nothing.

Satoru sighed. Maybe he needed to take a different approach. Maybe he just needed to leave you alone for a while. "If there is... anything else you want to see, I can show you. Otherwise, I'm going to go to bed. You can stay out here as long as you want..." he said softly. He began to turn away from you, listening for your movements as he started to walk inside. You only walked from your spot and moved further into the garden.

The halls echoed with the sound of his footsteps. That went... much differently than expected.

He thought back to fantasies he used have of what this night would look like: learning more about you, showing you around the estate, laughing with you until both of your stomachs went numb.

Kissing you for the first time in that garden, and, if you wanted it, carrying you back to his room in seconds.

But as he thought more about it, Satoru realized just how unlikely those scenarios would have been, especially with the current situation. He speculated that your behavior was a combination of your familial expectations, anxiety, and the fact that you were meeting him for the first time. Not to mention, he knew he wasn't the most approachable-looking person in the world.

This was going to take some time. He would let you get used to the house first, get used to seeing him and the other staff around. Then eventually, you might begin to open up to him once you felt safe.

Or you might not talk to him at all.

Satoru really hoped it didn't come to that.

___________________________________________________________

Some time ended up being much longer than what Satoru thought you would need. It had been a week since you last spoke, and you made no effort to approach him.

He did get some semblance of a routine you kept. You were definitely a busy body, always up and ready with a full breakfast waiting for him on the dining room table before he was up (although, since he had the following two weeks after the wedding off, he was sleeping in later than normal). By the time he was finished eating and getting ready for his day, you had gone halfway through your daily routine, which included cleaning and managing the state of almost every room in the whole building. Once that was finished, you prepared lunch, taking your portion out to the garden to eat. The rest of the day you used for your own recreation, usually something along the lines of taking walks, reading, or taking care of different parts of the garden. Of course, you still had time set aside to make him dinner before you stayed in your room for the rest of the night.

Just noticing the things you do throughout the day was a source of admiration from him alone. Satoru knew that the kind of work he did would be considered maddening and dangerous, yet he accomplished everything with ease. He couldn't help but think of you in the same light. You completed the same tasks everyday without fail or signs of fatigue (gods know he could barely clean a fucking toilet without gagging). He noticed that the meals you cooked were not just chosen randomly, but instead were meant to be perfectly balanced in terms of nutrition while still complimenting every bite he took. In other words, fucking delicious. Satoru knew he wasn't a bad cook either, but you made five star meals like it was no one's business.

He would see you often around the house, your skirts or dresses flowing as you flitted about. He could tell you favored modest clothing, usually in either knee to floor-length dresses, or blouses with skirts of the same length. Your makeup was simple, your hair always done up and clean.

Whenever he was close enough to you or entered a room you were in, you always bowed politely and addressed him, never saying more than was needed, before returning to whatever it was you were working on. Satoru knew if he asked, you would sit down and have a conversation with him or eat with him, but he wasn't going to push it. He wanted to be sure it was something you were okay with.

Yet hours and days dragged with almost no change. What was meant to be your two week honeymoon break passed, and Satoru had to return to his missions. Somehow you had already known what time he gets up to eat, and, just like almost any other day, there was a breakfast waiting for him.

No sign of the person who cooked it, though.

Satoru decided he couldn't take this anymore, the awkwardness and silence. No, he was going to find you and asked if you wanted to eat this breakfast with him.

Luckily, he found you in the kitchen putting away dishes you had just finished washing. "Good morning, (Y/N)," he said, trying to sound as polite as he could without frightening you.

You must have been lost in thought, because you jumped when he said your name and turned towards him.

Head bowed. Eyes down. Hands folded.

He was tired of it.

"Good morning, Gojo," you replied. "I hope you had a restful evening last night."

"I did..." he said. "I was just... wondering if you wanted to eat that delicious-looking breakfast you made with me. You're allowed to say no, of course." He felt stupid having to add that last bit.

"Apologies, Gojo, but I already took my breakfast this morning, but I sincerely appreciate your offer." He felt his stomach drop inside him a little. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"No, it's fine. I'll be home later tonight." He tried to keep his tone from sounding disappointed. He couldn't be mad at you for eating before he asked you. However, Satoru wanted to end the conversation positively, with something not so... stale. He turned to walk to the door, looking once more over his shoulder at where you still stood. He opened his mouth once, closed it, and then opened it again. "You look gorgeous today, by the way."

That surprised you. Not the words necessarily, nor the fact that these weren't your best clothes, but the way he said it. Like he meant it. It stirred something in you. You decided to look up at him, but he was already gone.

A while later, Satoru was dressed and ready to go, his car parked just outside with the AC blasting. He walked down the grand staircase... with you waiting for him at the bottom.

You were waiting for him. He paused in front of you once he reached the bottom of the steps. You had assumed your usually stance, but... he could tell you wanted to say something.

"I... realized that I never asked what you would like me to make for dinner for when you return..." you said as if you were just realizing that you were standing here, and you needed to make up an excuse.

It tugged at his heartstrings a bit. You had never asked if he had a preference for dinner, so... this was you trying to approach him to start a conversation. "Well, whatever you want to make is fine. You're such an amazing cook. I would never not eat anything you make," Satoru exclaimed with a small smile before leaning in a bit as if telling you a secret. "But, if I must request something, I reallyyy like mochi desserts," he whispered before pulling away. "But you didn't hear it from me."

Your small smile and barely noticeable laugh made his heart explode. Pride swelled in his chest. So you have a sense of humor in some regard...

He smiled and walked past you to the door, walking through before-

"Gojo," you called from across the room. Satoru turned at the sound of you calling his name.

"Have... have a nice day today..." you said, giving him a small bow.

His eyes widened in surprise before he flashed you a grin. "You too, pretty girl." And just like that, he left, the door shutting behind him.

Satoru was trying to do his best not to holler in excitement on the other side of the door. You went out of your way to meet him at the front door and ask what he wanted for dinner and told him to have a good day? He felt like a middle school girl. A stupid smile plastered itself on his face as he walked to his car.

And stayed for the rest of the day after.

___________________________________________________________

The next few weeks went just the same: him waking up to breakfast that you sometimes stopped by to eat a few bites of, you saying goodbye and asking what he wanted for dinner at the door, and him coming home to that meal in the evening, which you occasionally ate with him also.

Satoru felt pretty spoiled if he was being honest. He never liked those mysogynistic views on gender roles, especially when it came to the roles of a husband and wife, but he was now understanding the appeal. He had assured you a few times that you didn't need to have something home cooked and ready for him each time he came home, and that he was just as fine with takeout, but that never stopped you. He knew it was serious, if not a little concerning, when he asked for a three-tiered Danish cake for dessert as a joke and you had made two because you, in your words, got bored and had the time. He didn't even know he owned the cooking supplies needed to do that. Nevertheless, to say he ate most of that within a few days would be an understatement.

As time grew, Satoru had been able to observe you more closely. There were the normal things, like the type of books you liked to read (mostly poetry), what time you liked to take your walks (sometime between 3:00 and 6:00pm), and what days you went to the grocery store and farmers market (Wednesdays, if he's correct) despite household staff insisting to him to tell you to stop because it was technically their job. He could never find himself to do so.

Then there were a few... less fortunate things. You still don't look up at him, for starters, and your voice still retained that proper, unnatural tone. Besides the times where you say goodbye to him in the mornings, you always observe and never speak unless he speaks to you. You have a cell phone, but you almost never use it, so he assumed you probably have no friends that you contact, or even family that wanted to contact you for that matter. Lastly, among a few more things, you always try to sneak an ice pack from the fridge some nights when you think he can't see it in your hand as you walk back to your room with it. He never knew what it was for, until he saw it on your neck while you read in the library, something he had to peak through the doors to see.

You get neck pains because of the subservient posture you forced yourself to have around him, and Satoru started to think just how far back this training you had been given goes. He knew that you couldn't get neck pains from bowing if you've only been doing it for a month.

One day, he brought the situation up to Yaga as they watched some student sorcerers training out on the grounds. "You really don't know the kind of backwards training the Kamos put their girls through?" Yaga asked, fixing a stitch on one of his jujustu dolls. "I thought you knew what you were getting into, especially since you're in one of the clans yourself."

"Well, I'm starting to see it," Satoru says with a wince. "I just don't know how to get her to... relax, I guess. Act normal, y'know?"

"Do you think she even knows how?" Yaga mused. Satoru went still. "The Kamos are traditionalistic; their customs span all the way back to the Golden Age of Jujustu as a way to preserve the glory of that time period. This includes how they train their... females."

Satoru furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know much," Yaga said, a piece of the string in his mouth as he adjusted a stitch. "The kinds of things like how to please a husband, how to raise kids, how to behave around authority figures, which includes men. Weird stuff like that. And if (Y/N) is Arao Kamo's only daughter that was betrothed to marry the Six-Eyes wielding Gojo clan head, you can expect her to be well educated in that regard."

Satoru sighs. He felt stupid for not looking into that, for chalking it up to some kind of anxious defense when it was much more than that. "I'm a real fucking idiot."

"Yeah, well, while that may be true, there's not much you can do but give it time. With the kind of stuff she was brainwashed to believe, the least you can do is give her some patience," Yaga said, finishing up his patch.

"True, but that'll take forever," Satoru groans, looking out at the young sorcerers sparring. "She won't do anything unless I tell her to. She doesn't know what it's like to just... have some sort of free will."

"Then maybe show her what's like to have one," Yaga says with a groan, settling back into the bench they were sitting on.

There was a pause before Satoru chuckled. "This is the one time you've actually given me advice that I considered listening to."

"Good. You should, otherwise I'll send you on another mission from this weekend," Yaga grumbled.

"Fine, I'll listen."

___________________________________________________________

That next day, Satoru planned on asking you about something when he saw you before he left.

"Hey, pretty girl," he quipped with a smile as he walked down the stairs, enjoying the slight blush that formed on your cheeks, something he had noticed the past few times he called you that.

"Good morn-" your gentle words were cut off by a sudden cough and a sniffle that caught his attention. He stepped in front of you.

"Hey, are you alright? Is your throat okay?" he asked, his usual teasing tone replaced with one of concern.

You seemed to pause for a moment before speaking. "I'm alright. Something caught in my throat is-" You coughed again, this time more aggressively as you turned to cover it.

Satoru's brow furrowed. He gently pulled your chin so you could face him again. He felt your forehead with the back of his hand. "You're burning up, (Y/N). You probably have a fever."

"I can assure you, Gojo, I feel-" You gasped as you were suddenly lifted into his arms, his hands resting underneath your back and knees as he walked you back up the stairs. He smiled a little when he felt you throw your arms around his neck.

"Please don't lie to me, (Y/N). How long have you been feeling like this?" Satoru asked calmly as he carried you to your room. You looked down at the floor.

A pause. "About the past two days." Satoru sighed.

He opened the door to your room and set you down on the bed. "Hold tight, okay? I'm just going to go grab some things..." He left and returned a few minutes later with an ice pack wrapped in a towel, some medicine, and a glass of water.

Setting the items down on your bedside table, Satoru started by ripping two pills out of their packaging and handing them to you with the water. "Why have you been walking about like normal when you've been feeling this way for the past two days?"

You took a moment to take the pills before answering. "I am well enough to complete my usual routine, so I saw no need for rest. I had the staff prepare your meals to make sure you did not catch my illness," you replied weakly, trying not to cough.

Satoru shook his head. "But we have people hired here to do those tasks anyway. You still need to take care of yourself." Your brow furrowed.

"But I'm still-"

"Don''t fight me on this," Satoru butted in. You lowered your head, eyes despondent. "I don't mean to say I don't appreciate what you do every single day. Really, I really appreciate it. But I don't want you doing anything when you're clearly feeling like shit."

"My apologies-"

"Don't apologize. Please." Satoru's mouth tightened when he saw the ashamed look on your face, the way your shoulders caved slightly. He spoke again, this time more smoothly. "I'll call Yaga to cancel my appointments for today. Just let me take care of you... and don't feel bad about it. Okay?"

Satoru didn't care that he was almost begging with you, but he needed you to understand that that's all he really wanted right now. To take care of and cater to you for a change instead of you constantly doing so for him.

"But, you might get sick too..." His chest tightened a little at the guilt you displayed, your tone of voice, the slight whine in it.

"That's fine. Just means I don't have to go to work longer," Satoru chuckled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to your legs. "But don't think that's the only reason I'm here with you now, of course."

Your lips moved into a small, downturned smile as you huffed a laugh. You weren't even smiling in full, yet he thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

A sharp, painful sounding cough from you broke the silence. Satoru handed you the water again, propping another pillow behind your head. Once you finished, he took the water from you and handed you a woolen blanket that you had resting on the end of your bed. "I'll get some lozenges for your throat and some tissues. For now, just rest for me, okay? I'll come back to check on you, but if you need anything just yell. I'll be in my room," he said as he adjusted the ice pack onto your forehead.

"Okay," you whispered. You looked almost... stunned. Like you never expected this. It made Satoru sadder than he would like to admit.

After a few seconds, he stood, turned off the lights, and shut the door quietly. He walked away right before the sound of your soft cries reached the door.

___________________________________________________________

Satoru looked after you for the next two days, making sure you took medications and got proper rest. Even when you were well enough to get back on your feet, he still made your meals and brought you ice packs and popsicles at night for your throat.

He apologized the first few times he served you food, scratching the back of his head and laughing. Sure, his grilled cheese and tomato soup wasn't bad, but it was embarrassing compared to your culinary genius. You never replied, looking back at him with a perplexed expression.

Satoru noticed this, and he had his suspicions as to why you may be confused. Because you had been living with him for the past month and a half, he was able to easily discern what your looks meant, or at least, what he thought they meant. Your confusion was not necessarily because of actual confusion, but rather, because you weren't used to gestures like this. It was a little disheartening, of course, but slowly, you began to accept them with a small smile and nod of your head. It put him at ease to see you that way.

Now was the third day Satoru stayed home to be with you, and because you seemed to be doing much better, he knew this would probably be the last day he would have to do so. Thus so, he wanted to make the most of it.

It was early afternoon when Satory began to approach your room. You had taken to sleeping in while being sick, and if there was one thing he had definitely learned from this time with you, it's that you could sleep when you weren't waking yourself up at a certain time. He found it cute, and somewhat surprising.

He snuck into your room as you slept, gently placing the reason he came in on your bedside table: a vase, with those blue hydrangeas in it. And just as he was about to walk out, you called his name.

Satoru stilled and turned slowly. You were staring at the flowers on the bedside with a haphazard, exhausted look on your face. God, and just when he thought this moment couldn't get any more precious...

"Fuck, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. Goddamn, and I had it all planned out too! Having you wake up to flowers, I was just gonna get cracking on some blueberry pancakes and everything-"

"Oh... are we celebrating something?" you asked, looking between your hands and the flowers.

"No, 's just because. Unless there's something you want to celebrate? Happy your-fever-decreased-from-103-to-101 day?" he chuckled. "Anyway, I'm going to attempt to make pancakes even though I'm ass at it. Hope you're okay with Frosted Flakes as a fall-back option." Satoru turned towards the door again. This woman has him adding blueberries to his pancakes-

"Satoru...?"

He paused, stopped, buffered, restarted. Did you just call him Satoru? His brain was running laps around the replayed sound of your voice in his head as he turned. He was elated, estatic, down-right jolly, one might say.

And then all that was thrown out the window he faced you completely, and you were looking right at him.

Head up. Eyes bright. Smile... paragon.

"Thank you... for taking care of me."

Satoru knew you weren't just talking about this past three days. He felt like a five year old boy laying his eyes on you again for the first time as he, the ever so confident, swaggering, and teasing Gojo Satoru, flushed. "Yeah, no, it's no biggie, you deserve it cause you do so much and you're my wife so I kind of have to and-" he bumped into the door behind him, "fuck, you know what? I'm just gonna shut up and go... pancakes... haha, yeah..."

This poor man Satoru turned the corner and facepalmed, shutting your door behind him while your small laughs could be heard from the other side of the door. Running a hand through his hair, he tried his best to compose himself while he walked away, but then your face flashed in his mind again, and it was like he had a buzz that reached from his brain down to his whole body. He was smitten.

Once he reached the kitchen, soft music playing from his phone, he searched up that pancake recipe. While he began to get out ingredients, there was a knock as someone entered through the doors that led to the rest of the estate. One of the household staff.

"Sir, there's a guest at the front door," the woman stated.

"Who?" Satoru asked as he leaned over the counter while scrolling through the recipe.

"Arao Kamo, sir."

Fuck.

___________________________________________________________

tags: @leonora13x @cole-silas @feeiry @mysuperrainbow @tw0fvced @emptybrain01 @xixiwang @drilled-brain @lvieee @xxkoyukixx @we-loveebony @sereniteav @ilovecoyotepeterson10 @baby—vera @jebemticeluporodicu @louannfox

I love you guys

[tkwrites]

It might be a tad depraved of me. But would you consider writing a blurb or something of Sarah reacting to Quinn shaving his playoff beard? Poor girl wasn't warned that her last time being pleasured and stimulated by it was her last. Huggy bear betta make it up to her 😉 (if you are willing to do a blurb, you don't have to actually include the smut even though you have a gift at writing that girl! I just think it could be a fun little scene of her seeing him clean shaven, maybe even a cute domestic vibe idk, this ask is too long 😂)

Also ohhh not long until you post Nicos next part and I am very excited 😝

Hi my Lovely, inspiration struck for your ask in the middle of the night about a week ago, and I've been finessing it ever since. I hope you enjoy what I came up with!

Photo from Pinterest

Blurb (664 words) below the cut. Allusions to smut, but nothing is described.

“Oh,” Sarah said when Quinn walked out of the bathroom. 

“What?” he asked, a hand going to his cheek. He didn’t think he’d cut himself.

“I just…I didn’t realize you were shaving.” 

“Was I not supposed to?”

A blush rose high on her cheeks. “No,” she said hesitantly, as if she was saying it because it was something he wanted to hear. 

“What?” Quinn asked. He saw right through her acting. The more he got to know Sarah, the more he realized what a terrible liar she was. 

“I just think you look really handsome with a beard,” she said. 

“I thought you didn’t like the facial hair.”

“I don’t like stubble. That hurts, but once it’s grown out, I like it.” 

“I can grow it out again.” 

“I know. I’d just kind of hoped you’d keep it until you moved home.”

“Why?” 

“It feels nice.” 

“It feels nice?” he repeated. “What are you talking about?” 

Sarah sighed, deciding she needed to just come out and say it. She’d talked herself into this corner. “Your beard feels nice…when you go down on me,” she confessed, feeling a flush flair down her neck and onto her chest. 

“It does, does it?”'

Biting her lip, she nodded. 

Moving closer, he slipped a hand around her waist and pulled her body flush to his own. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t think I would have to. Isn’t it tradition to keep the beard until the final? I thought you’d have it until you went back to Michigan.” 

He winced, reminding himself Sarah just started watching hockey and didn’t know the traditions like most people he knew did. “That’s only if you’re playing in the final,” he explained, “most guys shave once they’re eliminated or after they’ve won.”

“Oh.” Great. Now, after dancing around it for the last 36 hours, she’d brought up the loss. “Shit, Quinn, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

He shook his head, “how would you know?” 

“Still, I’m sorry.”

He needed to change the subject. Brushing his smooth cheek against hers, he brought his mouth close to her ear and asked, “so you don’t think I’ll be as good now that I’ve shaved?” 

“I don’t…” she coughed. “I didn’t say that.” 

“But it’s what you were thinking, right?” His other hand snuck under one of her straps. 

“No.” Her heart was racing with the nearness of him. 

“Do I need to prove you wrong?”

Her voice squeaked, “no?” 

“You don’t sound too sure about that.” 

She made a small noise that sounded like a halted whine.

His mouth drifted to her pulse point, kissing and sucking the tender skin. 

“Quinn,” she breathed. 

“Hmm?” Sarah so rarely got this flustered, Quinn reveled in riling her up like this.

Desire pooled between her legs - hot and heavy. She needed him. Now.

They had to take advantage of the time they had now. His family was finally gone, though his mom would be back soon. He’d be having surgery in two days, then heading home four days after that.

"Prove me wrong.” 

He smiled against her skin and gathered a fistful of her skirt. She was wearing that damned green dress again, and he was finally going to strip it off her. Or maybe he’d push it up and eat her out just like that. 

He liked the mental image of that — of her writhing on the bed, skirt shoved up around her hips, hands tangled in his hair as he buried his face between her thighs. 

Yes, that was exactly what he was going to do. Then he’d strip it off her and make love to her as many times as his body would allow.

“On the bed," he said, nodding toward it.

She backed up until the backs of her thighs hit the mattress, then reached for the hem of her dress. 

“Leave it on,” he said, voice gruff. “I’ll take care of it.”

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

[mountainficss]

!! mentions of: food play

i like the idea of a sweet neighbor!joshua. like just the sweetest guy ever that you wanna absolutely tear apart (in a good way).

he’d show up at your door three or four days after you moved in next door to him, introducing himself and presenting a sweet housewarming gift: a fluffy vanilla cake! he’d taken the time to spread frosting all over the top and around the layers, and neatly piped cute little frosting dollops all around the top edge. he would hand it over to you carefully, the dessert all sealed up in a cute glass cake tray. you’d smile at him gently, thanking him for stopping by and promising to return the favor. you’d study his pretty features, realizing how cute your next door neighbor was. his pure smile would make your stomach flutter, and you’d make a mental note to stop by his place later on during the week.

he’d think of you multiple times throughout the week, unable to forget the image of your kind smile when he handed you the cake. shua wouldn’t have expected a pretty girl to be moving in next door, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. his brain was full of questions about you. did he make a good first impression on you? are you having trouble adjusting to the neighborhood? did you like the cake he made for you? he’d find himself missing the sight of you, wanting to stop by your house again to get to know you better. you’d beat him to it though, ringing his doorbell and waiting patiently on his doorstep with a cute potted houseplant in your hands. he’d be shocked to see you on the other side of his door, but he’d be pleasantly surprised to see you again (totally not because he missed you or anything). he’d invite you inside shyly, practically grinning when you agree. he’d guide you inside, putting the little plant in the center of his dining room table and offering you a seat. he’d pull your chair out for you (like a true gentleman of course) and sit across from you after you’re settled. you’d both talk about everything under the sun, ranging from your careers to your hobbies and interests. you’d find yourselves getting lost in conversation, talking for hours and completely losing track of time. you’d apologize for staying so late and he’d walk you to the door, thanking you for talking to him for such a long time. you’d exchange numbers before you left, and he’d feel giddy knowing your number would be in his phone. his number. in his pretty neighbor’s phone. oh he’d be ecstatic! he’d find himself texting you in his spare time, thinking of you constantly and waiting for your texts :( meanwhile you would be thinking of him too, wondering when you’d be able to see him again.

you’d text him frequently, shooting him a text one day after you returned home from work to invite him over. he’d be brimming with excitement upon receiving your text, changing into a cute sweater and adjusting his hair in the bathroom mirror. he’d feel nervous knowing that this is the first time he’d be stepping into your home. he’d wonder if he should make some food to bring you, or put on a different sweater that you might like more. during his moment of overthinking he’d hear his phone ping, a text from you telling him he can come over lighting up his screen. he buried his worries for now, opting to just keep his sweater and show up at your door empty-handed.

he’d knock on your door lightly and you’d open it looking prettier than ever, despite just coming home from a long shift. his stomach would do nervous flips as he steps inside your home, the atmosphere cozy and comforting even though you moved in barely a week and a half ago. the warm lighting would make your face look soft and glowy, and joshua could hardly contain his excitement as you show him around your place. you’d grab his hand and lead him into the kitchen, asking if he wanted to eat a slice of cake with you. he’d blush at the sensation of your hand in his, noticing the tray of the vanilla cake he brought you when you first moved in. it would sit prettily on the counter, half of the slices missing from the dessert. he’d nod shyly, watching you cut him and yourself a slice. you’d lean against the counter, plate in hand and beginning to talk about your shift. shua would barely register what you were talking about though, his eyes practically glued to your lips. you’d just look so pretty to him, snapping out of his trance when you call his name softly. “joshua?” he’d flinch slightly at the sound of his name. “you okay?” he’d nod slightly, shifting a bit under the heat of your gaze. you’d find his flushed cheeks so cute, the thought of him squirming underneath you briefly crossing your mind. you couldn’t help but toy with him a bit, reaching a hand down to his lower stomach to play with the end of his sweater. “your cake was really good, you know,” you’d beam, lightly running the fabric of his sweater against your fingers. “you decorated it so cutely too! you’re a really talented baker, shua.” his face would be so red from your compliments, your hand hovering so close to him making him feel lightheaded. “oh, thank you! i um, wanted to bring you something nice to look forward to while you moved all your things in.” you’d smile innocently and set your plate down on the counter, dragging your thumb through the frosting of your slice and licking the frosting clean off. “well it’s definitely nice, that’s for sure. i’ve been eating slices of it all week!” you’d smirk mischievously at him, collecting more frosting on your index finger and leaning in close to smear it on the side joshua’s neck playfully. he’d let out a small gasp of surprise. “the frosting’s really sweet.” you’d purr, throwing your arms around his neck unexpectedly. you’d lean into him, pressing your hot tongue onto his neck and dragging the muscle up slowly, licking the frosting off his flushed skin. a whimper would escape his lips, caught off guard by the sudden intimate gesture. after licking all the frosting away you’d press gentle kisses to the expanse of his neck, his heavy breathing and small whines giving you the urge to ruin him. you’d catch his lips in a hungry kiss, feeling his breath hitch before your lips press against his. you’d taste like the sugary vanilla frosting, and he’d kiss you harder trying to chase the sweet flavor. you’d briefly pull away to tug his sweater over his head, hearing him whine at the loss of contact. you’d trace your fingers down his chest and torso with one hand as he kisses you again, your other hand fumbling to your plate and gathering frosting with two fingers. you’d spin him around so he’s leaning his back against the counter, smearing the frosting all over the bare skin of his chest and stomach. he’d moan at the sudden sensation, watching you lean down and drag your tongue all over his abs and chest. his cock would strain against his pants, the sight of your pretty eyes gazing up at him while you lick up his stomach making him even harder. he knew this would be a long night for the both of you.

you’d spend the rest of your evening eating sugary cake off your pretty shy neighbor’s gorgeous body and listening to his sweet sounds of pleasure :(((

[narcjsistx]

Hii! Can you do parent Sanzu hcs? Thank you in advance. Have a nice day💚

HI! thanks for the request, hope you have a good day 🤍 Sanzu as a parent? Definitely a good challenge...

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— Sanzu Haruchiyo as a parent HCS ᡣ𐭩

Are you pregnant? JAJAHAHAJJAA nice joke! Yes, you scared him a lot. Oh, isn't this a joke...? Holy shit. This was more or less Sanzu's reaction when you told him you were expecting a baby. Surprised and deeply scared, simply that

In reality he never wanted to be a father, also because he never had a father figure to refer to as a child. Takeomi acted as a father to him but practically destroyed him, so thinking about what he would be like as a father he simply realized that it wasn't his role. So yes, he didn't take it very well at first... let's say he disappeared for a week

He came back simply because he realized that he didn't want to see yet another child like him in the world without someone to refer to. Deep down, after thinking about it on the one hand, it excited him to see himself as a father: come on, a kid with a katana and pink or white hair wouldn't look bad!

If he were to have a family image, it would consist of only one child for the simple fact that with his job he wouldn't have time for more than one. You'll eventually end up with five, but let's not tell that to the unconscious Sanzu. He just realized how good it was to have someone similar to him and you

Definitely a daughter type. When he found out that your first child would be a girl, he literally blew up a building under Bonten's empire. He doesn't know it either, but girls have something that boys don't have. He undoubtedly loves all his children, but he himself admits that he has something more with his daughters than with his sons

One day you came home with your son with a small scar on his face, nothing huge, simply caused by a fall from the slide. He hid it, but deep down it shook him a little: he wouldn't wish on any of his children what he went through with his scars on his face, so seeing the child like that made him mentally weak for a few days. He already kills normally, so he would have little problem killing for his children

The type of parent who covers the children's silence with gifts. Did he accidentally break a vase while you weren't home and a daughter saw it? Perfect, by tomorrow she will have the doll she wants so much. This went on for a while until one day one of your sons, after receiving a gift, still told you what a mess his father had made. Let's say that Sanzu slept on the sofa for a few days, but at least all the children insisted on sleeping with him so as not to make him feel alone. Did he win? Yes, but at what cost...

It happened that he showed up at Bonten meetings with some child in his arms. He trusts to leave them with Kakucho, but the Haitans have to stay light years away. Like, "yeah, we can plan a disaster next week in Tokyo" while his son drools on his hand. He also has some photos and videos on his phone of Mikey holding the baby and just staring at him... a little creepy actually, but as long as Mikey does it, it's just fine

[thebeholdingsblog]

Will Graham | NSFW Alphabet

TW: MinorsDNI, GN!reader, various kinks, allusion to dubcon but not really (it's clearly stated that he would never), a whole lot of smut, potentially dark subject matter

A = Aftercare

The afterglow is when he finds himself not occupied by thoughts about his work for once, so he likes to just lay in bed and hold you. For him it's the calm before the storm inevitably breaks over him again, so he embraces moments like that as much as he can, caressing you and taking his time before cleaning the both of you up with soft words of praise and encouragement scattered inbetween pauses of compfortable silence. He wants to bask in the feeling of having you on his bare skin for as long as he is able to.

B = Body part

Will is mostly insecure about his performance, not his looks, so on himself it's his stomach, he can appreciate the fact that it's well muscled but still soft.

On you it's your hips, his hands often find them, tracing the bones and eventually the sensitive skin below them as he takes great care to take his time and he feels like they are just meant to be held in place by his rough palms. Aside from that it's the place where your neck transitions into your shoulders, he finds himself nipping at it gently and nuzzling it often. Beeing honest though, everything about you is the sheer image of unrivaled perfection in his eyes. If he knows that you are particularly insecure about a part of yourself he will take care to give it extra attention until you see yourself from his point of view, even if he needs to make a you a whining mess to do so.

C = Cum

Inside of you, the feeling of your walls wrapping around him has a hold on him, but only if he is wearing a condom. He wants children, but is not certain that he is ready to be a father after all that has happened, so he keeps the both of you safe while secretly fantacising about what would happen if he wasn't wearing one. He cums hard when he does, needing some time to get there if he isn't feeling well mentally, but when he does it sends him into mindless bliss.

D = Dirty secret

While he would never actually do it, he has toyed with the idea of just slipping the condom off inbetween thrusts many times, it's one of the things that immediatly gets him close to the edge, though he could not break your trust like that and wouldn't even dare to try something like that.

E = Experience

While he hasn't had many intimate partners, the one's that he had have shown him exactly how to please them over time and Will is just a good student all over. You're not leaving the bed until both of you are thoroughly spent.

F = Favorite position

Cowgirl. Will loves to have you in any way that he can, but if he has the choice he's having you in his lap, his hands holding your hips and his eyes watching you as you set your own pace. If he is feeling a little more dominant he'll have you laying on a surface that's level with his hip, holding your wrists above your head with gentle pressure and making you see stars.

G = Goofy

Both are entierly possible, it depends on the day. If he's been at work, there are times where he comes home and (after asking) has his way with you without a single expression apart from his eyebrows pulling together in pleasure and his lips softly parting in a silent moan, but if the two of you have spent the day on your own he can be a bit more relaxed, chuckling with you over some nonsense that has happened and allowing you to make a few jokes if you take breaks in between.

H = Hair

In the beginning of a relationship he actually shaves, afraid that you would be uncomfortable otherwise, but if his partner has nothing against it he doesn't really do anything to his hair downstairs.

I = Intimacy

Will is worshipping you as much as he can, kissing every inch of skin that he can get his lips on and making sure you know just how much he adores you, how much he needs you in that moment. Even if he is handling you in a way that is anything but gentle, he'll have you feeling like you own his very soul. He's emotional in a way that is hard to describe, every movement carrying a sort of intensity that leaves you breathless over and over again.

J = Jack off

Less often than one would think. If he knows you are waiting for him at home, he doesn't even try. When his sex drive hits he wants you, not his hand and he actually has a fair amount of trouble cumming on his own. The only time he really does it by himself is when he knows he won't get to see you for a long time and he needs to focus badly.

K = Kink

Light impact play is always involved with Will, since he can hardly keep from holding you harshly and nipping at your skin, even while eating you out although he's careful not to hurt you, pinching the inside of your thigh if you can't manage to keep still for him.

Breeding is the sort of fantasy that he keeps to himself, but it his significant other even so much as alludes to it he's all for it. He would delight in having you walk around hours after the two of you are finished still leaking his cum, using his fingers to push it back inside as it drips down your thighs so not a drop goes to waste.

Praise is another one that is heavily involved as soon as the two of you are intimate. He craves for you to know what you are worth to him, but also enjoys watching you fall apart just from his words alone and manages to find just the right thing to say more often than not.

L = Location

In the comfort of his home, specifically in his bed. While he does think about having you in the most absurd places, he wouldn't feel safe anywhere else and the risk of exposing you to someone that isn't him doesn't sit right with Will. With the right encouragement there is a chance that he will have you anywhere you want him to though. Will is incredibly responsive, not needing much to get as desperate as a puppy begging for a treat and he's willing to do whatever you ask of him.

M = Motivation

It's the small things for Will. A smile that lingers just a moment longer than it should, the way you furrow your eyebrows while reading your favorite book and even when you push your fingers trough your hair after coming home from a walk with the dogs. It doesn't stop at your appearance though, even something as trivial as you talking about something that you're passionate about can get him hot and bothered in the matter of seconds. If you really want to get him there quickly though, feather light touches on his jaw can make him lose his mind.

N = No

Any sort of hard impact play. He has seen enough blood and strangling marks while working, he doesn't want to see them on you. He will try if you need him to, but would preferably stay away from this kind of stuff. There is a part of him that would love nothing more and maybe that is exactly why he won't do it.

O = Oral

He loves beeing on the passive end of the bargain, watching you intently as you suck him off, one of his hands making it's way into your hair although he doesn't push you down, so you can always come up to get air. There are days where all he wants is to sink into the warmth of your mouth and if you are happy to oblige he is praising you like you are a divine beeing the whole time.

What he loves even more though is giving you head. He can't imagine a more beautiful sight than your head falling back into the pillows and delights in the soft noises he can coax out of your lips with just a flick of his tounge in the right spot. He doesn't even have to try, he just knows how to push you over the edge and can't even be bothered to stop after you cum, only satiated when he knows you're absolutly satisfied. He needs some time to get to that point though, his first attempts tainted by the fact that he is scared he won't be enough for you, which is not the case. As soon as he gets that out of his head, well you are getting head.

P = Pace

Will prefers to go slow, but not necessarily gentle. He starts out with soft thrusts, but as he gets lost inside you his hips start to come into you roughly and even with brute force if he knows you can take it, though is pace stays torturously slow. He wants to savor the moment as long as he possibly can, although he has no reservations about going at a different pace if you ask him to do so.

Q = Quickie

If he had a stressful day he takes advantage of it to help him quiet his mind, but he doesn't do it often, knowing that he can get rough when he's overly frustrated and he doesn't want you to get hurt because he can't keep himself under control. Under normal circumstances he would much rather take his time with you.

R = Risk

If you ask him to try something new he will absolutly think about it and try it for you, yet he isn't too keen on doing anything that could have lasting damage. You're precious to him, he wouldn't risk breaking you as long as that is not exactly what you want.

S = Stamina

Two at most. Will doesn't need or most of the time want more than one round, he can last pretty long though, making sure he has you pleased and every single one of your needs throughly fulfilled before he himself gets his fill.

T = Toys

Doesn't own any, but isn't repulsed by the idea of using them. They do intimidate him a bit.

U = Unfair

Not while he is unwell, in those cases his mind is way to occupied with his work. If you're home and the week has gone over smooth though, his hands are always somewhere on you, fingertips tracing the lines of your back in passing or a hand placed delicately on your thigh while you're watching a movie, his hand drifting dangerously close to where you want him most but also not close enough. All of it until you eventually break and ask him to fuck you senseless.

V = Volume

Will isn't usually loud, but if you get him to let himself go, especially while giving him head, there is a good chance that he will whine at least a bit, though he does his best to keep himself from doing it.

W = Wild card

While Will is willing to do almost anything for the person he has his sights on, he is often insecure about trying new things because he is worried that he won't be able to do well enough. He needs lots and lots of reassurance, but won't ask for it because he keeps his feelings to himself. His partner needs to take the initiative to find out what makes him tick, both in at home life and in bed.

X = X-ray

A good 7.5 inches with plenty of girth, not too large, absolutly not too small.

Y = Yearning

He doesn't have time for a high sex drive and the thought doesn't occur to him often either way. If there isn't something that turns him on, he isn't thinking about it.

Z = Zzz

If you don't require him to be present with you, he falls asleep quickly, the peace after sex giving him the comfort to do so for once.

/Template by @/the-coldest-goodbye\

[distuff]

Floating in The Blue Lagoon

. . .

. . .

Summary: Another day stuck in this world, another shady job from Crowley to Yuu, this time surrounding the aware, eerie Octavinelle. What can possibly go wrong?

Inspiration: The new tweels cards- Come on nOw

Side note: Between me and u, I was first going w the faceless first POV Yuu so everyone could imagine whatever. But then I saw M Yuu fanarts and I was like fck... another fandom where I imply gay rel!! 🤧

...

"Thank you soo much dear!" The familiar nasal voice spoke behind Yuu as the tall man nudged him toward his office door. "You're such a treasure for doing this, truly!"

"M-Matte-" Yuu began to protest, but before he could say more, Crowley pushed him out, Grim swaying in his arms with the mysterious box Crowley had trusted into his paws moments ago.

He spun around, hoping to be fast enough to stop the door from closing - even considering sacrificing Grim by throwing him like a Pokémon at the madman in the crow mask.

Yet before Yuu could do just that, Crowley was already giving them a wide grin, bidding them, Au revoir~ , and, Good luck, with a little wave before shutting the door in their stunned faces.

The sound of the door closing echoed through the empty hallway in the upper tower, leaving Yuu and Grim blankly staring at the bold golden letters spelling 'The Greatest Headmaster' on the dark wood.

They both blinked, bewilderedly, as the reality of their newly assigned 'homework' fully sunk in, making them soon grimace in annoyance.

'Maybe if I wish hard enough the chicken will combust into crispy KFC.' Yuu thought, glancing briefly at Grim in his arms once he spoke up.

"Soo..." Grim trailed off, his piercing blues peered up at Yuu, who kept glaring at the door. "Are we doing this or-"

Before he could finish, Yuu cut him off with a flat voice, "You think we can pass the RWA entrance exam?"

Silenced followed his 'question' until Grim spoke again, his voice resigned. "We are doing this."

Not a question, but a statement that simply stated the fact of the matter. Feeling there was no need to verbally confirm and make the situation that much more annoying, Yuu simply nodded with a blank face.

Choosing not to comment on Grim's swishing tail or how the Hades flames raised just so from his ears as he huffed and grumbled, the soft noise of sharp claws damaging a tough surface sounded through the halls right after.

Seeing no sense in standing around and prolonging the inevitable, Yuu let out a long sigh. Turning to leave, he fully accepted that instead of proper sleep, they'd return to their dorm around one AM.

'If luck enables us that is.' He grumbled internally, 'Should probably avoid Vil for two days…' Even the mental image of Pomefiore's house warden seeing his panda eyes brought chills down his spine.

And don't let him start on Riddle. Ugh...

Yuu trailed off with his thoughts to the potential scenarios they could experience if not careful in avoiding certain house wardens, not minding the feeling of Grim's tail encircling his hand as the grey furball continued throwing foreign words under his breath.

A slightly twisted thought crossed Yuu's mind - how bad would it be to let Grim unleash his irritation on the headmaster? But before the bitter seed could flourish into a poisons flower, Yuu quickly shook his head.

'This world is getting to me the longer I stay.' He mused. Part of hin started to feel comfortable in this magical world they were thrown into, and yet...the other part still longed to return to the warmth of his home.

Truly...Yuu truly didn't know what was the thought process when he oh so optimistically thought that, hey! I have friends, right? Me and Grim don't need to share this 'experience' alone.

Attempt NO 1,

6-Happy brain cells

- Heey guys!! Ik its late but do u wanna go w me and grim to Mostro lounge?? (10:45 PM 1)

Doll: Sure when?? (10:50 PM 1)

Doll: Who TF changed my fcking name again!? (10:50 PM 1)

Deunce: It suits you... (10:53 PM 1)

Aceless: "Sure when" Are u 4-real?? Like hell I'm goin back to that hell hole (10:53 PM 1)

Doll: aight' (10:54 PM 1)

Doll: It's a date then @ Yo-Yo (10:54 PM 1)

Aceless: Objection???? (10:54 PM 1)

Deunce: I second that (10:55 PM 1)

Doll: State the time pls (10:55 PM 1)

Aceless: Dont ignore me u lil purple haired troll! (10:57 PM 1)

Aceless: U forgot that we are a group?? If one doesn't go neither does others capiche?? (10:57 PM 1)

Doll: Aight' (10:57 PM 1)

Aceless: Aight' tf u mean 'aight' (10:57 PM 1)

- Doll removed Aceless from 6-Happy brain cells -

Doll: Deuce? (10:58 PM 1)

Doll: Do you agree with the exiled dud philosophy? (10:58 PM 1)

Deunce: ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ (10:59 PM 1)

Doll: Good 🍵 (10:59 PM 1)

Doll: @ Yo-Yo ?? (10:59 PM 1)

- Ah yes! Gomme gomme (シ_ _)シ (11:01 PM 1)

- Was getting the wooden boat out of the shed (11:01 PM 1)

Doll: Why? (11:01 PM 1)

Deunce: Why... (11:01 PM 1)

- ...why did u remove Ace?? (11:02 PM 1)

Doll: Why are U gettin a boat at 11 PM?? (11:02 PM 1)

- I asked whether u wanted to go to Mostro lounge (11:02 PM 1)

- Me and grim have to deliver a strange box to Azul and the Octavinelle's members in the lounge said he already gone back to the dorms so boat it is! (11:03 PM 1)

- Guys?? (11:05 PM 1)

- @ Doll?? (11:07 PM 1)

Attempt NO 2,

24/6 at Ruggies

- Is anyone free?? (11:09 PM 1)

Trey: And what are you doing up at this hour? (11:15 PM 1)

- Shouldn't I be asking you that with the whole rule number who knows which and ur bedtime? (11:15 PM 1)

Trey: Touché. (11:15 PM 1)

Trey: It's Sunday btw. (11:15 PM 1)

- Sht- I forgot (11:16 PM 1)

Idia: Ortho is asking why are u snooping behind the lounge @ Yuu (11:17 PM 1)

- Tell Ortho to mind his own business (11:17 PM 1)

Trey: Uuh...snappy 🍿(11:17 PM 1)

- 🚿🚿🚿 (11:17 PM 1)

Idia: Ortho is saying "You became our business the millisecond you prove yourself to be a valuable component in the system" (11:18 PM 1)

Before Yuu could follow up with a replay that would ask the Ignihyde brothers to come down and help them, the bold letter spelling 'Chat restricted until 10 AM, tomorrow' flashed over the screen.

'Fair.' Yuu thought.

Attempt NO3, aka the last resort, shows just how desperate he was at this point and regretted the second after sending the message to them.

Die Schönheit und die Süßen

- So... (11:20 PM 1)

- Anyone up? (11:20 PM 1)

For a hot second, Yuu thought no one would thankfully respond, but alas, that ping made his heart stop, and the message made his body tensed up.

Vil S.: What in the seven are YOU doing up at 11PM!? (11:21 PM 1)

- What are YOU doin up at 11PM?! (11:21 PM 1)

The three dots were far more threatening than they should have been, and Rook with Epel sending gravestones emoji did not help one bit. Yuu saw only one way out.

Without a second thought, Yuu left the group chat. There was no need to try to ask the group for the house warden only; Yuu wasted no time in leaving his phone on the shore with his blazer, putting his focus on helping Grim push the boat into the calm waters before jumping in.

"We are indebted to you they said. We'll support you when needed, they said," Yuu grumbled, rowing in sync with Grim, who stood on shaking paws before him. "Bullshit!" He threw his hands up in frustration - unaware his sharp movement made Grim wobble a bit before he glared at him.

With just the two of them, they started paddling across the lake nestled behind the lounge, the cursed box safely placed on the seat between them.

.

The oars fell with a heavy thud on the side of the boat, thankfully secured by the iron rod. His attention was more on the wildlife startled by his outburst. Frogs jumped into the water, and wings flapping filled the air, drawing Yuu and Grim to turn in the direction.

Familiar pink and blue flamingos were taking off and landing further away from the rowdy noise.

"Aren't those..." Grim began, pointing at the grooming flamingos in the distance. "Aren't those the ones Riddle is lookin' for?"

Yuu's eyes widened; knowing the implications of finding the lost Heartslabyul pigeons, he whirled his head towards Grim. "We didn't see anything, got it?"

Grim nodded vigorously, grabbing their individual oars they resumed rowing towards the lagoon that was getting closer much faster than before.

Once the flamingos were covered by the lake flora, they started to slow down, muscles starting to strain from the unplanned evening exercise.

"What do ya think is in it?" Grim asked, nodding at the box. His paddling may have slowed down, but by the strained expression, he refused to stop trying to help.

Unable to help it, Yuu gave his friend a small smile, knowing if he were to voice his appreciation, Grim would grumble and stop altogether, 'Stupid tsundere.' He thought, shrugging at his friend's question.

"Don't. know." Yuu grunted out each word, having to put more strength into his paddling, "Documents, money, dismembered body-"

"What?"

"What?" Yuu repeated, meeting Grim's wide-eyed stare. They both paused, silently eyeing each other for two different reasons.

Grim looked him up and down, his eyes settling on Yuu's gaze, narrowing suspiciously into slits. "You had a tea party with that old geezer," he growled, showing his small pointy teeth.

If this was past Yuu, he would have backed away and maybe fallen into the deadly yet enchanting water, but the present Yuu knew the reason behind Grim's irritation.

So, to spare some of his friend's feelings, Yuu discreetly turned his gaze to the side, mumbling, Maybe...

That, however, had the opposite effect. "And what did I say about that?!" Grim cried out, throwing his little paws up into the air with the oars dropping by his side.

Yuu hung his head, sighing at the familiar dance. "Not to go?" He replied in an even voice.

"And what did you do?" Grim asked back with an annoyed voice.

Prompting Yuu to look up, noting how his friend was now standing in the middle seat, closer to him. "Hey, now!" He shot back with furrowed brows, "I'm not going to limit myself just cause you're jealous!"

Grim gasped theatrically, a paw over his heart with wide blues gazing at him in horror before they narrowed in anger. "Am not!" His screech sent the remaining wildlife scattering with the sound of splashing and ruffling feathers.

Ignoring the commotion, Yuu playfully smirked, leaning on his palm, gazing mockingly at Grim's priceless reaction. "Oh, you so are." He moved his head left and right, leaning close with a sharp smile.

Their expressions mirrored each other, both showing their own set of teeth in a laughable display of dominance. However, it was just a matter of time before Grim would- Heh.

Yuu watched fondly as Grim averted his large eyes, huffing and crossing his paws. "I thought we were a team!" Grim said, bordering on whining, "A duo!"

He won't lie; his heart almost melted when Grim turned, his blues shining with feigned hurt that still made his eyes glitter. 'Stupid cat charm.' Yuu thought, biting his bottom lip to resist falling for Grim's antics as he continued dramatically,

"Where I go, you go, and where you go, you take me with you!"

Alright, the charm was broken, freeing Yuu to groan into his hands, his whining muffled. "But Lilia's teacakes are soo tempting~"

Something shifted in the air, making Yuu raise his head, only to meet Grim's disgusted expression as he tried leaning as far away as possible.

"We can't be that poor..." Grim muttered, making Yuu wince at his friend, offering him a wobbly smile.

"It's not so bad..." He said, trying to ignore the judgmental look he was getting, adding almost desperately, "It's just...he has a bitter taste.

Yuu kept up his awkward smile, partly focusing on the lulling rocking of their boat before Grim's sour expression caught his attention. "You're disgusting."

Blowing strands of hair from his eyes, Yuu was quick to retort back. "And you're just salty."

In a blink of an eye Grim was nose-to-nose with him, growling, Am not.

Yuu pressed back, eyes blazing. " You. Are." He emphasised. " It annoys you that Lilia doesn't invite you because you're hairy!"

The response was immediate as Grim recoiled back with an offended gasp. "How dare you! It's not my fault that geezer's allergic to my greatness!"

Feeling a surge of fondness, Yuu was unable to help but reach forward to boop Grim's nose, which scrunched up in response. "More like your-!"

Yuu felt his eyes widen together with Grim's, neither expecting the music that suddenly started filling the air. Both he and Grim turned cautiously to the side, trying to pinpoint how music could be playing in a middle of a fucking lake.

With their cheeks pressed together, they instinctually reached to embrace the other, watching in reality shuttering disbelief as five frogs appeared at the edge of their boat, jerking back when the frogs began singing along to the melody.

You and Grim exchanged a glance, but before they could voice the question of their sanity or check the lake's toxicity level, something started pushing their boat towards the lagoon hidden within the willow trees.

Shocked by the unfolding events, neither of them had the time to process as two seagulls pulled back the long branches, letting them into the lagoon - too entrance to notice the subtle harsh nudge to their boat.

They could only gape more at the number of animals joining in, with the music intensifying and the boat getting gently turned in the water.

The singing grew louder with the music while fireflies started to illuminate the space inside, making the water seem like a starry night outside.

"Sha-la-la-la, let the music play, do what the music says. You gotta kiss the- gwak! "

The sharp noise of something shooting from the water cut through the un-natural concert, snatching one of the seagulls mid-flight. The bird let out a distress cry before being dragged into the depths, all in the span of a second.

Frozen in shock, silence fell over the lagoon, everyone staring at the spot where the seagull had disappeared. Yuu barely had time to blink before the chaos erupted.

Water splashed, feathers ruffled, and leaves rustled. Yuu and Grim stood rigid as the previous silence returned, thick with tension.

Without hesitation, they embraced each other, holding on tightly. When no sound entered their space beside their breathing, Yuu thought in passing how the lagoon would seem enchanting if they hadn't just witnessed a murder.

He restrained himself from glancing at the spot, which Yuu could only assume would be a red mixed with rich blue by now. Instead, Yuu willed his wide eyes to move around, searching for any sign of danger as their boat slowly rocked in place.

"We are not getting paid enough for this!" Grim cried out, his twitching whiskers tickling Yuu's cheek as the cat spoke, his words echoing in the quiet space.

Tightening his hold on Grim, Yuu cried out next. "I can't go down for a shitty box!"

As a response, both of them stilled when they felt something heavy bump into their boat, rocking it harder. Yuu swiftly covered Grim's mouth as the cat prepared to screech in fear, hoping to avoid drawing attention from whatever lurked beneath the surface any further.

With bated breaths, Yuu bit his bottom lip as Grim's claws dug into his skin. 'I just clipped them!' Was his last train of thought before his mind went blank.

Yuu's heartbeat thundered in his ears, the rapid rhythm a stark contrast to the ominous silence that filled the lagoon. The boat hadd ceased its unsettling rotations, coming to an eerie stop.

His breath, shallow and rapid, stirred Grim's fur, the soft rumble of the feline's growls offering the only semblance of comfort.

Grim unconsciously leaned further into his chest, large blues sharpening into slits with his fur rising in alert as his forked-tail swished back and forth.

Splash. Two sets of eyes snapped to the rippling water, both braced for what was to come when-

"Heya!"

Yuu screamed, a high-pitched, girlish sound that echoed through the still air. The familiar boyish voice behind him and the cold, clammy hand on his shoulder sent a jolt of terror though his body.

In his panic, Yuu jerked away, inadvertently tossing Grim into the air right as he was yanked back into a slimy, wet chest, his shirt absorbing the icy droplets that clung to the perpetrator's skin.

"Grim!" Yuu shouted, his voice thick with horror as he watched his yowling friend tumble through the air.

For a fleeting moment, he twistedly hoped that a hungry seagull would snatch Grim, mistaking the cat for a sardine. Anything was better than what- who was lurking in the lake's depths.

But such hope was snapped the instant Grim hit the water with a resounding splash, plunging the lagoon back into an uneasy silence.

Yuu's mind raced as he stared at the spot where Grim had vanished. He was too distracted to notice the two webbed cyan hands creeping over his chest - the now see-through shirt thoroughly drenched.

Only when he wanted to instinctually move towards the edge of the boat to check the surface did Yuu quickly realise he couldn't move a muscle.

The grip was firm yet deceptively gentle, with cold fingers pressing against his skin, sending a chill down his spine as they began to squeeze just so. The sharp nails dug in just enough to threaten without breaking the skin.

Yuu tensed when hot breath tickled his ear, sharp teeth grazing his earlobe, making him shudder involuntarily as blood flowed to his ears - no doubt taunting the predator with the promise of live prey.

His breath hitched as the grip on his chest tightened, a possessive hold that made it hard to breathe as he spoke in a low voice, making his heartbeat quickened.

"Shrimpy~"

The nickname was unmistakable, uttered with a boyish tone laced with a dangerous edge. There was no questioning which Leech twin had ensnared him.

"F-Floyd." Yuu stammered, his voice trembling as he forced out the name, a shaky smile plastered on his face.

His pulse pounded underneath his skin as Floyd's grip tightened, pulling him closer against the merfolk's cold, smooth chest. The wet fabric of his button-up clung to his skin uncomfortably, but he knew better than to squirm or complain by now.

Any sign of resistance would only aggravate the eel that had meticulously twisted around its prey. Not yet intending to harm only to play.

Floyd's chest vibrated against Yuu's back, a low rumble that sent a shiver down his spine. "You should know by now ya can't just come here uninvited," Floyd murmured, his voice carrying a subtle threat that made Yuu's breath hitch.

He opened his mouth, fully indenting to explain their nightly visit, but the words on the tip of his tongue were swallowed down as Floyd's nose brushed against the side of his neck.

Familiar tingly of electricity travelled from his neck down to his fingertips. The merfolk's breath was hot against his skin, and Yuu had to fight the urge not to flinch away. Any movement, any sign of weakness, would only provoke Floyd further.

Instead, he tried putting the focus on more pressing matters as the merfolk started to move Yuu backwards little by little, where he had to dig his hands into the wood underneath him to prevent Floyd from pulling him into the cold waters.

"Could you- I don't know, could you maybe go down and...you know," Yuu's voice faltered as Floyd paused to study him, his heterochromatic eyes unredable with his right faintly glowing within the dimmed lagoon.

Yuu forced a nervous chuckle, his eyes darting around as he tried to avoid Floyd's gaze. "Go down and get him?" Yuu suggested weakly, quickly adding, for a price of course! with a strained smile when he saw Floyd's unchanged expression, webbed ears twitching in clear irritation with his hold tightening just so.

Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, an unspoken conversation that sent a shiver down Yuu's spine. He watched, heart pounding, as Floyd's hands slowly slid down his arms to the edge of the boat.

The eel merfolk used it to lift himself up until he was looming over him. Sharp fins flaring in a clear challenge with dual eyes locked with his flittering gaze.

Droplets of water landed on Yuu's face, cold and startling, but instead of listening to the alarms in his head to look away and accept defeat, he squared his shoulders, his gaze hardening with determination.

Floyd leaned closer, a soft growl escaping his throat, revealing a razor-sharp canine poking from his lips. A gesture meant to threaten, to send fear through the body, freezing it in place. And yet...

Yuu knew all too well that if Floyd wanted to, he could easily flip the boat and trap him in the dark, cold depths of his domain, where he was rendered useless more than he already was on land.

But Yuu had spent enough time with the moody twin to understand his twisted sense of 'fun'. He didn't flinch as he watched the golden eye seemingly gleam even more. He didn't let his heart's frantic rhythm distract him when Floyd's longer strand of hair tickled his cheek.

He held his ground, calmly staring into Floyd's golden eye, not paying much attention to how the eel's body slid into the boat, inch by inch.

In that tense moment, Yuu could only prey that Grim's lazy brain had paid some attention during Mr Vargas's lessons on holding one's breath underwater.

Either that, or Yuu would have to find a way to win in Floyd's game without losing a limb, or-

A sharp splash of water and a loud gasp shattered whatever bubble Yuu was willingly drowning in. Both he and Floyd snapped their attention forward just as his vision was suddenly obscured by a ball of grey fur.

Grim, shaking more from fear than cold, clung to Yuu's face, his little heart pounding against his forehead. Yuu groaned, prying the terrified creature off his face, all while ignoring the irritated tut behind him.

He was about to ask Grim whether they would have to sneak into the collages infirmary again when his attention was stolen by the second twin, who Yuu notated was already half way in their boat.

Jade's smile feigned charm, which was nothing if not sadistic, with heterochromatic eyes glinting with amusement as he moved closer, using the middle plank which Yuu was sitting on to prop himself up.

Grim, still shivering, clung to Yuu's now drenched shirt, the fabric clinging to his ski nearly see-through, with the realisation settling in that they were now trapped between the two merfolk.

Yuu could do nothing but wait for either of them to speak as he was the one intruding on their territory with his heart hammering against his chest. 'If only the ghosts in Ramshackle were this territorial.' Yuu thought, desperately trying to keep his wits about him.

Jade tilted his head to the left, his eyes scanning them as they were once more clutching the other, the left eye glowing eerily, deepening the melted gold.

"Well, if it isn't the little Prefect..." Jade's voice was smooth, almost calming to the situation, served as a further threat by the way his sharp teeth peeked through his empty smile. "May I inquire as to your reason for being here?"

Yuu was more than aware of the strict policy every dorm oblige to. Every having their own set of rules and habits with only one being shared between them. The Entry policy.

Unless a member of said dorm or invited by the housewarden personally a student could only get in if send by the principle. Which Yuu was, naively thinking would be taken care of by said chicken!

Feeling his brows furrow, Yuu was quickly reminded of his current predicament when he felt Floyd move behind him, a large hand reaching over to grab Grim, who immediately started squirming and protesting about, how dare you treat the great Grim like a rat!

Yuu's mind provided an image of a trashing Grim facing a grumpy-looking Floyd who dangled him in the air like a wet socks.

He bit his tongue, knowing all too well what would follow if he were to turn around in a fruitless attempt to help. Instead, Yuu stayed still, his eyes never trailing away from Jade's inquisitive ones.

Taking a deep breath, Yuu nodded towards the box that was now underneath Jade. "Sir Crowley tasked me- us. Tasked us with delivering this to Azul," he explained, trying to stay calm despite the snickers and hisses behind him and the feeling of another body sliding closer to his right

The way Jade looked down and Floyd stopped tormenting Grim to peer over his shoulder in almost puppy-like curiosity helped Yuu ease up some of his nerves. Yet it never fully lost its guard, which heightened once more when the silence that followed was heavy.

Even Grim seemed to sense the unease in the air when he stopped trashing in Floyd's hold. Not being able to stay silent no more, Yuu quickly added in a dire attempt to smooth over the tension.

Not noticing how both eels' spins flared, eyes narrowed, and their webbed ears flattened or ruffled, he started spouting elaboration.

"I would have left it at the lounge, but he said Azul asked for it to be delivered immediately! I thought he sent notice to you guys before I-"

But before he could finish, the boat suddenly flipped over. The realisation of what had happened came too late, and Yuu found himself plunged into the cold water with a mouthful of it before he could have a chance to react accordingly.

With blurry vision and pounding hear, Yuu's other senses heightened almost immediately where he jerked away from the feeling of the familiar smooth muscles gliding over his back.

The sensation had prompted Yuu to shook off the shock and quiclky swam upwards, partly noting the smooth muscle of one of the twins tails ssliding under his feet.

Being in no position to think whether it was meant to help or strain him more, his sole focus was on the faster approaching surface.

Gasping for air as he broke the surface, Yuu pushed his wet hair out of his eyes, only to feel a cold present settle behind him with tail coiled around his feet, immobilising him and forcing him to sit on the powerful muscle.

"Our apologies, we didn't account for the heaviness of this form. I hope you can forgive us, Mr Prefect." Jade's smooth voice sounded behind him, his hands easily sliding over Yuu's arms, settling under his palms with a deceptive gentleness.

Blaming the cold water for his tremble, Yuu fight to ignore the soft electric feeling under his palm, opting to glance over his shoulder and narrowing his eyes at Jade's insincere smile.

"Oh, I'm sure you both feel so guilty," Yuu glowered, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Why did you push it over?"

Jade blinked at him 'innocently', but before Yuu could press for an answer, the sound of cackle behind him followed by something slimy brushing against his exposed arm, drew his attention to Floyd, who was now lazily circling them in the water, with shivering Grim on his chest as the twin leisurely yet roughly patted him.

Yuu winced in sympathy at the ministration, his eyes widening when Floyd's hand emerged from the water, the silver box in his hand as the twin rattled it with a mischievous grin.

"Lookie, Jade!" Floyd called out to his brother, who in turn smiled knowingly at his twin. "It's that."

Floyd stopped before them, ignoring how Grim cringed in his hold with his body partly submerged under the water. 'At least I won't have to bathe your stinky arse.' Yuu thought, refocusing on the question he and Grim wondered about before.

"What's in that box?" Yuu asked, nodding at the silver box in Floyd's possession. Yet, instead of answering, the twins exchanged a glance before focusing all their attention on him.

Yuu instinctively retreaded a bit, unintentionally pressing closer to Jade, who tightened his tail around Yuu's legs in response.

A gesture that could be either threatening or comforting settled at the back of his mind when he fought the shiver induced by Jade's low voice near his reddening ear.

"If you're so curious..." He began smoothly as Floyd swam closer with Grim tightly pressed against his chest, rendering the creature speechless as Floyd mimicked his twin's looming presence.

"Why not come down with us?" Floyd finished with a boyish voice. Both brothers peered down at Yuu who felt the tip of Floyd's tail effortlessly take off his shoes with both the twins working down the buttons of his blouse to-

"N-No, we good! But thanks for the offer, truly!" Yuu stammered, his smaller human hands pushing theirs away, no doubt letting him to; otherwise, Yuu was hundred percent sure he and Grim would already be dragged into the water half way on their way to the Octavinelle dorm.

The twins exchanged another look, Jade had his usual calm expression while Floyd was clearly dissatisfied with his rejection of their proposal.

What followed next was a bunch of chatter sounds where mostly Floyd was showing his annoyance through soft glowers with his sharp spine fin occasionally flexing.

But whatever they were discussing in their own language that Yuu couldn't even phantom to decipher, it was clearly affecting Jade as well as his tail tightened more than once around his legs where Yuu started to stop feeling his feet.

Thankfully, the brothers cleared their disagreement pretty fast, with Jade turning to him with a tight smile and Floyd huffing, letting go of Grim as he crossed his arms with the box in his left hand, enabling Grim to quickly try paddling to Yuu only to be caught by the ever smiling Jade.

"Very well then," Jade said, his golden eye glowing briefly as he began to unwarp his long tail from around Yuu's legs. Thinking he was being let go, he got ready to start kicking his stocking feet that would otherwise make him grimace if all his clothes were not wet as well.

You could only internally groan at the prospect of laundry once he and Grim returned to their dorm, which sounded heavenly right now.

But instead of the freedom he hoped he was granted, Yuu found himself being pulled into a suffocating embrace. Floyd grinned in satisfaction with one glance at Jade telling him this was planned.

With a stretched smile, Jade continued. "It wouldn't do you good to swim all the way to shore. Please, let us escort you Mr Prefect." A command that was poorly disguised as a question.

'It wouldn't do me good to swim with you two either!' He wanted to say out loud, but instead, he let his eyes fall on something behind the ever-patient Jade.

Yuu paid no mind to Floyd's hands slipping around him, the eel nuzzling into his neck once more, sending waves of soft electricity down his arms and leaving iron taste in his mouth.

Glancing between the flipped boat and Jade with large, hopeful eyes, Yuu pointed at it with a wobbly smile. "Eh..You could just turn it around-!"

He should have expected it Jade's respond, truly, it was his fault.

Before Yuu could finish his suggestion, Jade, without turning around, brought his powerful tail down, smashing the boat into pieces with a single blow. THe sharp sound echoed in the quiet lagoon, the silence only broken by Jade's silver voice.

"You were saying?" He asked 'innocently' with a tilted head.

Making a quick eye contact with Grim who froze in Jade's hold, thankfully unharmed from the flying pieces of wood. Yuu knew it was either yes and a gentle ride home with a clingy leech or no and a forced ride back to shore with water entering his nose-

"I was saying that I'd be grateful for your assistance." Yuu replied with a strained smile, which Jade returned with a much more charming one while Floyd let out a short huff.

As if all the patience Floyd had to stay silent through their back and forth was finally all used up, the merfolk submerged underwater before Yuu had the chance to see his expression.

His tail slid under Yuu's legs before disappearing entirely. Unsure of what Floyd was planning, Yuu looked to Jade for answers, but the other twin only smiled back, moving forward and smoothly sliding into the water as he let Grim walk over his shoulder onto his back, continuing onwards.

Yuu didn't know what to say or do as he watched the Leech brother getting farther away, sharing a confused look with Grim Yuu sighed. Seeing no other reason for Floyd's disappearance other than boredom, he was not surprised by the eel's whimsical nature.

With no other choice left, Yuu started to follow Jade who was already a good distance away from him, his drenched clothes not making the swimming any easier.

"Stupid chicken with his stupid tasks and his stingy-!" Grumbling under his breath without choking on the water, he was suddenly pushed upwards by a strong and refine muscle which moved him faster forward.

With legs on both sides of what was moving under him, Yuu blinked away his short-lived surprise. It didn't take a genius to understand that he was sitting on Floyd's waist who flashed him a crooked grin, with hands behind his head, as his powerful tail pushed them forward.

"Were ya thinkin' of swimming away from me, Shrimpy?" Floyd teased, his voice playful, clearly waiting for his response.

Yuu let out a tired sigh, his expression softening into a reluctant smile. "How could I when you would clearly catch me no matter what." Yuu replied, hand curiously spreading on Floyd's smooth, cyan-white skin, which shimmered under the moon's light.

The merfolk rumbled in response, the vibration travelling through Yuu's fingertips as Floyd's annoyed tut finally drew his attention back to his face. Yuu only saw Floyd's furrowed brows just as webbed hands grasped his and pulled him closer.

Sprawled over Floyd, his nose barely brushing against Yuu's forehead. "Ya wouldn't make the chase boring though, right Shrimpy?" Floyd asked in a low voice, his other hand brushing Yuu's hair behind his ear, claws lightly grazing his sensitive skin, sending shivers down Yuu's spine. "I know you wouldn't, right?"

Yuu swallowed nervously, his wide eyes meeting Floyd's duals. The golden eye seemed to glow brighter under the open starry night. Knowing one wrong move or word could trigger a different mood with a different response where Yuu would either end up safely on the shore or drowned in the peaceful lake.

He couldn't help the relieved sighed when Jade's stern voice interrupted the charged air between them. "Floyd."

Floyd's gaze dropped, lazily meeting his twin's disapproving stare. "I thought you wanted him to enjoy the ride back in peace." Jade reminded him.

Yuu and Grim exchanged wary glanced, their eyes darting between the two Leech brothers, settling on Floyd's sharp grin which grew as he locked eyes with Jade.

Without another word, Floyd lowered his head on the water's surface, his teal hair fanning out as he swam just a little faster, ahead of his brother.

"Ya never asked for my definition of peace, now did ya." Floyd quipped cheekily. Jade easily let his twin have the last word, recognising that his brother's appetite for chaos was, for the moment, satiated.

Knowing what the other Leech brother did, Yuu waved his hand to gain Jade's attention, which the more composed twin immediately gave.

A brief but genuine smile crossed his lips as Yuu mouthed a silent, thank you. Jade nod in respond, redirecting his focus to the path ahead.

Determined to maintain the fragile peace, Yuu subtly motioned for Grim to stay quiet. The little feline rolled his eyes with a huff as he crossed his paws, but wordlessly complied. Not daring to challenge the Leech twins' unpredictable nature.

Satisfied, Yuu turned his attention forward, observing Floyd's unexpectedly peaceful expression. Here he was, sitting on a merfolk, a being capable of tearing him to pieces, snapping his bones as if made of porcelain.

Yet instead, Floyd had chosen to help with his brother. To protect, in their own twisted way.

'Even if you may be seen as morally grey, selfish, animalistic and twisted. I...' Yuu thought, his fingers absently tracing the smooth skin, barely feeling the hidden scales. 'I can't help but admire the authenticity of your actions.'

Be it the Leech twins, Azul or other students he met in NRC Yuu never felt he was being lied to. Tested or even secretly deceived. Hell! The trio never hid their scheming nature when they tried luring students into making deals.

'This place truly lives up to its name.' Heh. A bitter smile tugged at Yuu's lips when, instead of the expected fear, disgust or resentment, all he could feel was...peace.

Throughout their serene ride, Yuu couldn't help but return to the same old thought. Was this world changing him, or was he letting it change him?

How long until he would fully forget about returning back to his home, to his family and life? How long until he would stop fighting the pull and let himself drown in the murky waters.

Yuu felt his eyes dim with each question, hands fisting before he willed them to relax. He truly needed sleep.

.

The journey back to shore was much quicker with the twins' assistance than when he and Grim rowed on their own.

The moment they reached the dark-sandy beach encircling the lake, both Floyd and Jade swam as close as possible allowed them to, their massive forms gliding effortlessly though the water.

As soon as they hit the shallows, the brothers settled on the sand, allowing Yuu and Grim to slide down.

Wasting no time in staying longer than needed, Grim leapt from Jade's back, muttering a quick, Thanks! Just as Yuu drilled into him, scurrying to the safety of the shore, far from the water's edge.

Yet when it was his turn, he didn't get far. Choking on his thanks, Yuu stumbled forward with a jolt of fear travelling through him when a webbed hand clasped around his ankle, causing him to crash to the sand.

Heart pounding, Yuu instinctively braced himself for the fall, intending to turn and yell at Floyd. But before he could, the merfolk was already flipping him over with ease, his golden eye glinting with playful malice.

"Floyd, what the hell-" Yuu's words died in his throat as he saw the sharp, glinting teeth inching closer to his foot. His breath quickened, and a primal fear gripped him. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the painful feeling of teeth tearing into flesh.

But instead of pain, he felt a strange, tickling sensation. Confused, Yuu slowly opened his eyes to find Floyd nibbling on his ankle, his sharp teeth grazing the skin without breaking it.

A familiar heavy feeling of guilt settled on his heart as he watched Floyd finish his ministration that was probably meant as a goodbye for him, tail softly thumbing behind the brother as he gave him a large grin, oblivious to what Yuu thought he would do.

'And right after I thought you shouldn't be seen as mindless monsters.' Guess old habits do die hard, Yuu thought solemnly. He is still not used to some of the 'cultural' differences between his world and theirs it seemed.

"Let's play like this again soon, alright?" Floyd's question interrupted Yuu's self-demeaning thoughts, his voice unusually soft, but with an undeniable edge to it.

His tail flicked water playfully onto the shore with Jade next to his twin, silently regarding Yuu with an unsettling intensity, his duals gleaming with an eagerness that could be seen as a predatory curiosity from a different angle.

"Please take care and get home safe, Mr Prefect." Jade said, his expression already washed down by his empty smile as he respectfully bowed his head while his twin nodded vigorously, his expression equally unreadable.

"Hai, hai! The land is far more dangerous than water anyways." Floyd followed, his usual playful demeanor fading into something more serious. "If ya get into trouble, don't hesitate to jump here."

"I'm sure we could make an...expectation for you if you're in dire danger." Jade added, slowly moving closer. Yuu's eyes shifted between the two twins, whichever spoke, noting that both were now looming over him on each side.

Yuu took into account their uncaring nature, reasoning no matter how long they lived ashore, they wouldn't care for something obvious like personal space.

"Azul might even allow you to stay in Octavinelle for a while too..." Floyd said next, bending so his duals with his gleaming gold would easily lock with Yuu's hesitant gaze that slowly melted into a more interested look.

"Indeed..."Jade followed next, mirroring his twin's posture as well as expression, "For a price, of course. But don't fret, it won't be too hefty, I promise you that our little Prefect."

Yuu felt the weight of their gazes, the two pools of melted gold gleamed with a mix of amusement and something more possessive.

He barely registred the feeling of their webbed hands - one gentle, the other more forceful - clasping his own, nor did he hear Grim's muffled panicked cries.

All Yuu could focus on was the two glowing golds and the subtle pressure of being pulled back towards the water when an arrow suddenly whizzed through the air, landing inched from Yuu's groin, easily pushing the two eels from him.

The shared shock between them broke whatever chain was encircling Yuu's neck, making all three turn their heads sharply in the direction the arrow that nearly castrated him had come from.

Yuu's breath hitched, the low sound of growls ignored as his brain settled on far greater danger than those two merfolks' that retreated further into the waters.

There in the distance, a familiar figure marched towards them with a scowling expression and scary speed, considering the heels that seemed sharper than usual.

The peaceful night was shattered. Without a second thought, Yuu scrambled to his feet, the adrenaline surging through his veins as his eyes locked with blazing amethysts; Grim's loud voice going ignored as he shouted, Rook!?

Yuu couldn't decipher whether it was from excitement or fear as his friend pointed up at the trees with heavy foliage, his attention solely on,

"V-Vil! What are you doing here at this fine hour?" Yuu stammered, his voice trembling slightly as the blond bore down on him. Vil seemed like a man on a mission, his dress robe adorned by fur fluttering behind him like a royal robe.

Seeing movement in his peripheral vision, Yuu quickly glanced to the side, seeing the two twins slowly sliding away from him before his focus was turned back due to the familiar scent of caramel apple engulfing his senses.

"Fine? Fine, you say," Vil's voice was low, dangerously calm, with an edge that sent chills down Yuu's spine that was not from the wind brushing against his drenched state.

Suddenly, the taller teen grabbed Yuu by the collar, yanking him closer, their faces mere inches apart. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" Vil demanded, his amethysts burning with a fury that Yuu felt only he was privileged to see from the 'perfect' male standing before him.

Yuu forced an awkward smile at his senior, raising his hands in surrender. Out of the corner of his eye, Yuu caught sight of Epel, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath.

The lavender-haired boy who was bent over still found the strength to furiously shake his head with a paled expression, motioning with his thumb a cutting gesture over his neck.

But Yuu, despite knowing better, couldn't stop himself from speaking. "Somewhere around eleven-"

"Twelve. Thirty. AM." Vil's voice cut through the night like a blade, dripping with venom from the usually composed 'Queen' of Pomefiore.

Feeling the unusual statick in the air, Yuu willed himself to take a deep breath in, scanning Vil's flawless face that was adorned with faint lines of stress.

His heart sank at the thought that he was the cause of the blond's distress. Eyes softening, Yuu opened his mouth in an attempt to soothe the blond, but before he could say anything, Vil huffed a shaky smirk, speaking of Yuu's inevitable doom.

Too slow to react, Vil turned on his heel, tugging Yuu forward with surpsiing force. Tumbling over his stocking feet, Yuu tried to regain his balance, but Vil didn't give him the chance.

With a firm grip on the back of Yuu's drenched shirt, Vil marched forward, dragging him along the ground like a beat-up plushy that was about to get thoroughly washed.

The pompous 'Queen' whistled a short tune as they passed Epel, who had just caught his breath only to realise he had to go through all that again.

However, before he could ask his friend why he was even out here, his head snapped to familiar yowl of Grim. Scanning his around where he heard him, Yuu didn't had much time to pin point where he was as Vil's voice dragged his attention back to him.

"Going on some evening endeavour this late at night, leaving the chat and then daring not to answer any of the calls. I hope you know I expect you to sit obediently once we get back to Pomefiore and not make a peep while I try to save this disaster."

Vil looked over his shoulder, peering down at Yuu with amethysts that gleamed with the promise of punishment if defiance were to be noticed.

Feeling wronged for nothing, Yuu stupidly tried to explain his and Grim situation before Vil's tense voice easily cut through his voice. "Do you understand?"

Wide eyes searched the hardened violet gems before he let out a long sigh. Slumping his shoulders, Yuu replied with a short, aye, sir.

Clearly satisfied with his respond, Vil humped as he continued listing all that they would have to go through to ensure neither of them would get dark circles or dry skin once they woke up.

Hearing the torture they would have to go through, his eyes swiftly locked with Epel's wide ones, I expect full compensation the boy's gaze said which made Yuu promptly snap his attention at his only salvation.

Yet when his fearful eyes met two pairs of duals shining with sadistic mischiefs in the moonlit night, he found no solace - only the eerie, synchronised wave of the two merfolk, making Yuu rethink his previous thought before all this.

'I take it all back. All of you are sadistic bastards!'

---

Thank you all for reading! I hope ya enjoyed yourself. Pls don't be shy to comment any of Ur thoughs or leave a like. It was fun to write!

[iutdwae]

— the little things they do.

pairing. skz hyung line x reader

cw. fluff, just lots of pure raw love :3

word count. 595

[ found my drafts for my haikyuu blog from 3 years ago so i recycled it into my new interest LOL i’m just buffering while i write out my chan hard thoughts ]

CHAN buys you anything he sees piques your interest. you never have to verbally tell him you want something. whenever he takes notice to when your eyes linger just a second longer on a shirt on the hangers, or you constantly talk about a decoration you’ve been wanting to get, he’ll go out and buy it as soon as possible. he doesn’t just give you gift after gift either, he’ll shower you in so much subtle affection. the way he’d cling onto you and place gentle kisses on your forehead, eyelids, cheeks, nose, everywhere when the two of you are sitting watching tv; he absolutely spoils you. he’s an observant guy, and this really comes to play, especially when he starts buying you things that you don’t even look at, but rather what reminds him of you.

MINHO, though unwilling to admit it, has a 42 hour long soundtrack of songs that remind him of you. he’d been subconsciously compiling a playlist of songs that rubbed him in a way that others didn’t: a slight buzzing feeling in his head, it might even stop him in his tracks, contort his mood to where he was unexplainably snappy (he was just suddenly emotional), and he couldn’t pinpoint the reason for so long. it was when a mental image began to pop up during a certain chord of a song that he realized he was connecting the songs to you, and it wasn’t until it was at 30 hours that you found out about its existence. and the funny thing was, was that the songs were always slow and sleepy-like, almost like he was floating in the dream that was you.

CHANGBIN is always looking out for you. at every time of the day where a meal should be, expect a text from him asking if you’ve eaten. in the mornings, he’ll write a quick good morning message and a “make sure you grab something to eat.” it’s to the point where he’s memorized when you typically have dinner. it progressively grows to him making sure you eat a proper meal three times a day. he’s your top motivator if you’re on a diet, though he also soothes your worries on your body image. his goal is to keep you healthy and satisfied, is all. if he knows you’re too busy to feed yourself properly, expect to find food delivered with a lovely note, never cold and always something he knew you enjoyed. and if he’s home too, you already know he’ll be the one to prepare you something from his own hands.

HYUNJIN texts you good morning and good night every single day, without fail. a lot of the time, it’s really energetic with lots of emojis and exclamation marks. if he’s up late at night, sometimes, it’ll be a lengthy, childish love letter. he’s particularly good with his words at these times, and it’s common to find yourself crying at his constructed paragraph, stacked with innocence and pure love. sometimes, if he’s too exhausted to let his fingers do the work, he’ll lay in bed with his phone by his head and speak flawlessly into the mic, spilling out all the things he wishes he’d get to say to you in person. he’s out and about for work, and you aren’t always in the same timezone as him, so he’s developed a way on having you keep up with his agenda when he’s away. bonus if he sends you a picture of his bright, smiling face with a thumbs up, ready to begin his day.

[chaithetics]

Devilish Worries and Bodies

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F (afab) reader Word count: 3.3K Warning/note: 18 + MDNI, mentions of anxiety/mental health/worries, and smutty smut smut! P in V intercourse. Some fluff. No description physical description of reader other than afab. Not proofread! Please validate me and this self-indulgent fic, sad girl era is thriving.

************************************************************************

Matt had already come home after a long day of fighting for justice through the legal, sophisticated, respectable way of the courts as the good samaritan lawyer for the voiceless and defenceless of Hell’s Kitchen. And then endured a long night of fighting for justice through the illegal, frowned-upon way of his vigilante persona, Daredevil. He’d come home, you’d helped him clean up the couple of cuts he had and he’d gone to bed now. He was sleeping peacefully, he looked like an angel as his eyes were closed and no worries were etched into his face. 

He had been in a deep slumber by the time you left the bed, he was yet to notice. You hadn’t been able to sleep at all, and it wasn’t his fault that that was the case. You were now sitting on the sofa in the living room that felt even greyer and colder than usual. Everything felt so cold, you almost wondered if your vision was acting up. You just needed some rain outside and you’d be in Catherine Hardwicke’s blue-green-tinted world of Twilight. 

You had a glass of water in your hands that was now room-temperature because you’d been sitting there so long. Holding it. Thinking. Thinking about just tipping the glass of water out onto yourself, because why not? Then that image would replay over and over. Then you’d sip from it. Somehow. Lower it. Back to holding and then back to thinking. It was still pretty full at this stage. 

Staring out the window into the numerous lights that appeared to float mid-air, parallel to the sky at different points. You couldn’t see any stars, you hated that. At least if there were stars you’d have some luck of counting them, maybe trying to name some of them, in an attempt of some distraction technique you told yourself that a normal person could do. Then you thought a normal person probably wouldn’t even to do this. The voice in your head that said it, was mean, it was the kind of a high school bully which made you feel even worse. You let out a deep sigh and choke on a little sob that you didn’t know had been wanting to come out. 

That’s the noise that wakes Matt up, he stretches out in the bed you share as he lets out a quiet but deep yawn as he tiredly rubs his eye. He moves a hand through his sleep-toussled hair as he immediately realises that you’re not in bed with him. He sighs as he focuses on the elevated heartbeat of yours he can hear drumming along further in the apartment. He immediately knows something is up, when he’d originally come home he thought something might’ve been bothering you as you seemed slightly detached but he’d been able to write it off as you just being tired because it was extremely late when he’d come home after a patrol. He couldn’t write this off as early hours fatigue though. He knew you, down to the core, even when you didn’t want to be perceived.

Matt gets up and slowly walks out of the bedroom with gentle footsteps, he could’ve been a ballerina in another lifetime. He’s so quiet with his movement after years of practice that you don’t notice he’s out of bed until he’s standing just a few steps away from the couch. 

It’s when you get the feeling of goosebumps on the back of your neck and that feeling that somebody is watching you that you start to wonder. You’re not sure though if it’s just depressed paranoia that makes you feel like somebody is watching, Matt had absolutely passed out, he should be in a deep sleep still you think. But you try to slow your breathing and not given into the urge to look and further panic, but you think that if someone was behind you it’s better to look and know that there is or that you’re not just feeling depressed but also paranoid. 

With a sigh after a sharp inhale you slowly turn your head and look, you see Matt standing there. He’s just a couple of steps away from you, he’s facing you and well… he’s not just facing you, he’s analysing you. You look at him with tears in your eyes as you know he’s doing a full scan of your senses. 

Matt steps closer immediately and sits on the sofa right next to you as the first tear has just dropped. You’re not sure if it’s because he can hear the tear dropping out of your tear duct to run down your cheek, or if it’s because he can smell the extra stress hormones or something in these emotional tears. 

“I thought you were asleep.” You whisper hoarsely, almost feeling ashamed at this scene happening. 

“I was.” He says gently as he raises his hand to your cheek and then he gently rubs your cheek, wiping up the few tears had already shed. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry-” Now it’s guilt as well. 

“Don’t apologise.” He quickly cuts you off in a gentle tone. 

He’s caring but he says it so nonchalantly, like this is normal. He’d spent a day working with clients, then he’d had a violent patrol and now you having a mini-breakdown interrupted his sleep. You felt bad and you knew that maybe you shouldn’t because you’re a human and you’re entitled to a cry and love and understanding. And all those things. But brains aren’t logical, and they sure as hell aren’t when you’re going through the emotions. You sigh as you look at his face, seeing the compassion and adoration. 

“Are you going to talk to me, beautiful?” He whispers with a gentle, playful smile. He’s trying to ease this. Diffuse the anxiety. 

“It’s just overwhelming. There’s a lot of mental noise and I’m struggling to not spiral-because well I’m already spiralling and nothing feels good. I’m not good. I’m just not good.” You spit out. 

He quickly pulls you into his arms and your face is pressed against his warm bare chest. You can’t help but let out a soft sigh of relief and bury your head further into his chest. It’s so comforting and even when you’re a mess, he still somehow knows how to comfort you. 

“Maybe you’re not good, and you’re just great instead.” He whispers as he starts to caress your back gently, he seems to be almost tracing an invisible pattern as he does. “That’s how I feel about you. Other days you may be good. It’s been bad before, it’s been good before. It can feel good again, honey. And it will.” 

You sigh and tilt your head to look at him as you move more into his lap and adjust yourself to be more physically comfortable. You trust him, you love him, you believe him but you’re not sure if you believe him more than the disbelief you have in yourself. 

Matt seems to sense this hesitation in you. “Five things you see?” He asks softly as his head is tilted to face you, he’s focusing on you because you’re his whole world. 

“Um…” You inhale and start to look around as you think. “Your face…” You say and almost chuckle, he smiles that charming grin widely and chuckles. “Good, what else.”

You look around and think. “The window… The couch… that plant in the ugly pot my cousin gave us.” You say and you both smile at that. You had to describe in detail the absolute atrocity of the pot to Matt when had been gifted to you both and it was now a bit in your relationship. 

“Good, good, not so good.” He chuckles with the smile that’s slowly distracting you from your worries. “One more thing.” “Um, the light.” You say quietly. 

“Four things you can feel.” He says and you can’t help but chuckle. “Well, you, I guess, and four different parts of you.” You say as you look at him as your cheeks heat up. 

“Sure, I’ll give you that one.” He says playfully. “Do I feel good?” He then asks teasingly. It makes you roll your eyes and chuckle. 

“Yeah.” 

“So something feels good.” He says with a proud smirk. 

“Don’t use my words back at me, like that.” You say as you watch him smile. “Mm, don’t say them then, pretty thing.” He says proudly and he chuckles and kisses your lips softly with a little peck. “Now should I keep going with the grounding and distraction technique?” 

“I don’t know-” 

“Why, are you in your body and out of your head enough?” He asks with a smirk as he caresses your back. 

“Maybe. You’re pretty good at that.” You say, he is. He’s so good at reassuring you and bringing you back to Planet Earth and away from the galaxy of overthinking and mental black holes. 

You lean against him and press a soft gentle kiss to his collarbone as he’s so close to you. All of him is, he’s enveloping you. He lets out a quiet little groan at that, that he tries to muffle but you catch it. You look up at him and bite your lip. 

You move slightly and caress his strong arms gently. “Honey, are you sure? You’re… Well you’ve been upset…” He says softly. He means it. 

“Yeah, but I’m feeling better now. And maybe the dopamine and oxytocin is just what I need.” You say matter of factly but still a little anxiously. “Oh really?” He cocks his head slightly and there’s a devilish grin on his face but his eyes are filled with love and adoration.  

“Yes really.” You smiled softly as you looked up at him, you really loved him and you felt safe with him. Matt started to run his thumb along your jaw and down your throat gently. 

You felt your cheeks heat up more and then you trailed your hand down his chest, his stomach, being careful to avoid any visible cuts or bruises on his pale skin. Your hand made it’s way down to palm him over his boxers. You watched his face carefully, his cheeks started to tinge with a blush and he smiled. 

“Mm, no.” He said with a smirk and then he quickly flipped you carefully and gently so you were now lying on your back on the couch while his hand was firmly on your waist as he looked down. You sharply gasped as this happened but then let out a giggle which just made his smirk grow ten times more. 

Matt lowered himself, caressing your waist gently and then running his hand down to your thigh and up again slowly, your breath started to slow in anticipation as you bit your lip, he was paying attention to your breathing and then he tugged your sleep bottoms down. Your cheeks heated up more at that as you looked down at him. He was completely focused on you now as his fingers danced around your inner thigh, spelling out invisible love letters and filth on your sensitive skin as you gasped at each touch. For a man with a moniker that had the word ‘devil’ in it, he sure was heaven of a man. 

Matt started to kiss your thighs, as his fingers moved up, he then paused his kisses as he finally travelled across to your vulva and ran a single finger through your folds. It triggered an automatic soft moan that made him smirk for a moment as he then gently spread your folds. 

His finger starts to travel more, he teases your hole with his index finger, circling it and almost going in for you to swallow him up but never quite, you feel your core clench up at this and don’t even realise that you’re holding your breath, waiting for him. Waiting for more. He keeps exploring, teasing, and pulling out soft moans and groans of anticipation from you, he starts to slowly insert his finger which makes you gasp and then he pulls it out. He brings the finger to his mouth and sucks on it, tasting your juices. 

You gasp at this and watch him, you’d been watching him the whole time but now your eyes are absolutely glued to him. He then brings his finger mixed with your juices and his saliva to that sweet, sweet, bundle of nerves that’s craving his touch. He starts to circle it slowly in a clockwise motion, applying a little more pressure. 

“You know, that tasted pretty good.” He says. He says it so confidently, the nature of his tones words, and what’s happening makes your cheeks heat up more as you let out some soft moans. “I should probably try it straight from the source, that’s what I need to do, isn’t it?” 

“Oh Matt…” You can’t help but feel like you’re going to explode just from his words. But he’s already dived in. 

Matt kisses along your vulva as he inserts his finger into your hole, lightly, almost teasingly. The kisses get closer and then he starts to lick. You’re almost squirming a little now, it feels so good, he’s not even at your clitoris yet, but his mouth and fingers is the start of an overwhelming heaven and you know that. You let out a loud whine and as you squirm, he moves his free hand to firmly hold your thigh, keeping you in place and he groans against you. The vibration of that is absolutely perfectly and you bite your lip, trying not to cry out, as you feel your eyes close as he licks your folds while pumping the tips of his index and now middle finger out. 

After a loud whine he smirks and then moves his mouth to the sweet spot as he keeps lightly fingering you, he licks your bundles of nerves, slowly, almost painfully so, circling it with his tongue and then you feel him kissing it and then he starts to lightly suck on your clitoris. You whine out at that, desperately so, as you claw the side of the couch and your eyes start to roll back. He hums against your clitoris, he’s so perfect and he knows that you love that so much. It always feels so damn good and it does right now. The vibration of that humming perfectly gets you off every time and sends pleasure right from your core right down to your feet and up to your head. 

Matt keeps humming, well aware of what it does to you, and hungrily sucks on your clitoris, like his life depends on bringing you to orgasm, that he is a man dying of a thirst that only tour sweet juices can quench, that your release will be his salvation. He keeps sucking and you feel your eyes roll back so much and you’re moaning so loudly as your back arches, he’s taking you to the peak and you can’t hold it back anymore. You whine out and grip the sofa more as he firmly holds your thigh, his fingers digging in as his mouth brings you to an overwhelming and incredible orgasm. 

“Oh Matt!” You whine out as the pleasure from it floods you. He keeps sucking and licking, making sure he gets each last drop and makes the most of your taste that he’s obsessed with and needs. He slows down after your release as you pant quickly you can’t help but smile and as you look down and see his face move away, his chin and mouth is wet but his lips are curled up in a smile. 

“You taste sweeter than anything I could ever dream of wanting.” He says as he caresses your thigh, there’s a slight flush in his face as he pants a little. Your cheeks heat up more at his words and as you watch him move. 

Matt takes his boxers off and then quickly kneels on the couch, spreading your legs and you see his thick member aroused and hungry. He’s looking at you as moves closer, holding it and then you move your hand down, feeling it and the precum that’s already dripping. You help him line himself up. 

Matt immediately thrusts in, he bottoms out quickly, you sharply inhale and he lets out a loud, perfect groan that’s music to your ears. 

“Absolutely perfect every time.” He whispers and then he slowly starts to move as his hand moves up your stomach and to your chest as he holds onto a breast while his other hand is planted onto the sofa to steady himself as he moves. 

You feel yourself clenching more around him with each thrust, his rhythm is steady but quick and you’re already so sensitive after the mindblowing orgasm he just gave you. Matt groans as his pace increases while he thrusts into you. You can’t help but whine out as he squeezes your breast and grunts out while moving. 

Matt then moves so his body is flushed against you, chest to chest, he puts his arm under your head, almost cuddling you closer to him as his hips start to move ten times faster. 

“Oh Matt, fuck…oh god…” You whine out loudly as he moves quickly and you’re so physically overwhelmed. He smiles at your reaction and groans into your ear, pressing his lips right against you to kiss your hair and moan into it as he fucks you like his life depends on it. 

His hips are moving so quickly and it completely contrasts to how the way he’s holding you is almost so gentle. You wrap your arms around his back, almost weakly and then start to scratch his toned back as the thrusts become deeper and deeper. You feel so full. 

“So perfect, so beautiful. I love you.” He groans into his ear as he keeps pounding into you. He’s a man in love and one that craves your body. He’s absolutely obsessed. “Your pussy is always so needy. I love it.” He groans into your ear as the thrusts become faster. 

“I love… I love you… t-too…” You whimper out as he keeps thrusting. You bury your head into the crook of his neck as he keeps going, he’s squeezing you tighter. “I love you s-so-so much…” You feel his hips starting to sputter as the rhythm breaks up a little. He’s still thrusting quickly into you but he’s getting close. 

“You feel so good, I’m not gonna last long beautiful.” He moans into your ear as he holds you tighter and keeps thrusting into you. You nod against his shoulder and neck, you knew this, and you have no issue with it. 

You dig your nails into his back and scratch him, goosebumps run along his skin at your touch and his breath changes for a moment as his body trembles slightly and he gives one last thrust as he then releases. He groans out and you look up at him smiling and biting your lip, he always looked so handsome when he finished and he made the sweetest noises. 

He groans and opens his eyes slowly, he looks at you and then immediately kisses you on the lips lovingly and comfortingly. He pants against your soft lips as he rests them there after the kiss. You run your fingers through his dark hair that now has beads of sweat from this exertion. This is peaceful, he loves you and you love him. You’re perceived, and somehow, that’s okay with Matt. 

After a moment he kisses you again and then he carries you to bed, he’s your loving, protective big spoon as your mind finally quietens down and you get to enjoy a deep sleep next to your handsome devil.

[schemmentis]

Like I Can

Pt. 2 / Pt. 3

Warnings: Angst, I guess?

Word Count: 2.1k

You met Melissa on what she calls her ‘worst night.’ Just finding out her husband had been cheating on her for God knew how long. In emotional overload and perusing her favorite bar for someone to get back at him with. Even though deep down she knew evening the score so to speak wouldn't really make her feel better.

Regardless, it was what she was doing. She'd enlisted you as her wing woman after you'd chatted awhile at the bar while her eyes roamed over the rest of the establishment. She promised she'd snag you a guy too before she left with whomever she decided was worth her night. You'd quietly informed her you weren't looking for any men. She'd only grinned and told you she'd snag you a woman then.

Melissa had kept to her promise. A burly guy that had an arm around her waist by the time she was introducing you to a woman. She slipped you a napkin with her number on it. A glance at it in your hand with a quickly scribbled note to call her and hang up after two rings a few times if your date turned…well, the words she'd used had you stuffing the napkin into your pocket quickly. 

You had only smiled and told her to have fun. You hoped she had someone else's number if her date did anything she didn't want that evening. For your part, you spent a drink or two with the woman she'd found you but didn't go home with her. Though she did give you her number too.

When you got home you saved Melissa's number. You threw away your date’s. You really hadn't been interested in a one night stand. It just wasn't your kind of thing. Melissa had a certain charm though, and you needed to make sure she was alright. You left a text with your name and asked her to text you the next morning just to make sure she was okay.

The text you woke up to had plenty of emojis to tell you just how her night went. You were glad she was safe, and even more glad she didn't give you details past the little emojis. You didn't really need the mental image. Though you couldn't help your mind briefly picturing just Melissa in a suggestive flash of day dream that you quickly blinked away.

Without planning on it, from then you and Melissa became good friends. You texted most days about whatever was going on. You had to talk her down plenty of times when Joe pissed her off in the first few months as she tried to, in her words, ‘make it work’. You learned plenty of Italian swearing and unique insults that you're certain only Melissa could have come up with. 

She ended up on your doorstep late one night. Disheveled in a way that was so unlike Melissa. Someone who planned her outfits meticulously and took pride in her appearance. Her eyes were red and swollen as she told you she and Joe were getting divorced. You pulled her into your living room with no hesitation.

You might have met Melissa on her worst night but by now you knew her quite well. It broke your heart for her to hear about the divorce. You knew despite how much she'd been hurt by Joe and did what she could to make him feel the same in return; she did love him. 

The thing about Melissa was she didn't love halfway. She loved the Eagles like they were the only sports team that existed and if you asked she'd tell you they were the only ones that mattered anyhow. She loved the kids she taught like each one was her very own. She loved her family ferociously even when they annoyed her. Including her sister that she claimed to hate. 

You never said it to her but you're pretty sure Melissa wasn't capable of hating anything. This thought only reinforced the night you'd held her while she wept on your couch. Her hands clutching your shirt in an iron grip to keep you close. Empty promises about making Joe regret ever meeting her and cursing him in every way she knew how. Because even with everything that had happened between them she loved him. 

You were there for her however you could be, as much as you could be. You helped her move Joe’s things out of the house once they'd decided she'd keep it. You went shopping with her when she decided she needed to redecorate the entire house. You spent a weekend painting the living room and bedroom. When you asked if she wanted to do anything with the kitchen she'd asked if you were crazy. 

It wasn't until a week later you realized the only places in her house that had been redone were shared spaces. You knew how Melissa loved to cook. You'd had your share of the too large portions she had a habit of making and gave you parts of. Joe probably never had much to do with the kitchen.

You do your best to keep her from making hasty decisions. Ones made in the heat of her emotions. Like the evening you'd both been drinking and she said she was gonna go to Joe's apartment and wreck his car with her baseball bat. She’d made it as far as standing in her living room, bat in hand and barefoot in pajamas. You at least got her to laugh when you said you didn't have the money to bail her out when she got arrested. 

You have less convincing arguments when she goes searching for one night stands. She convinces you to be her wing woman again. Her good luck charm she called you. You only entertained this once or twice. It was surprisingly difficult for you to see her this way. Even though it was how you met. 

You felt something deep and cutting in your stomach every time you went with her. Every time you watched her flirting with men. Every time she would wiggle her fingers at you in a wave goodbye with a wink and smile over her shoulder as she left the bar with a different man. 

The last time you'd gone with her you'd ended up drinking until you passed out at home. Melissa had used your extra key to get in to wake you when you never answered her. Convinced you'd gone home with someone else, just like she thought you had every other time. You'd gotten a lecture about making her think you were murdered over the breakfast she made in your small kitchen. 

The next time she tried to get you to go with her; you claimed you weren't handling alcohol so well lately. She'd taken the excuse exactly once. It was difficult each week to come up with a new one that she would buy enough to let go. You managed for a while though. 

By the time she met Gary, you'd figured it out. What that stab of pain whenever you watched her flirt or leave for a night with her different dates. You hadn't even noticed it had happened. You never planned on it. Melissa was your closest friend, all you had ever been worried about was being there for her. Apparently somewhere in the process, your heart got a mind of its own and fell for her too. 

Somehow, the aching stab with Gary is worse. Now instead of different men's names each week you can never remember, it's Gary's. Instead of begging her to remember you really didn't need the details of her sex life, she's telling you about date nights and sweet conversations. Whenever she tells you about what she did while you were apart you don't have to ask who she went with. It's Gary. 

You meet him. Of course you do. Melissa likes him enough that she's seeing him regularly. The first real relationship she's built since Joe. Other than you. You remind yourself you don't count in that way. 

Gary is…nice. He's different than the guys you've seen Melissa take home in one night stands. Both in looks and personality. From what little you knew of those men's personalities, anyway. But he makes Melissa laugh, a beautiful laugh you've always smiled to hear. Even if she's gripping his arm while she laughs. 

Gary is nice. You'd be okay with him if it weren't for the way every time you see him the knife in your chest twists. For the way every time he calls Melissa his girl or compliments her it turns. You'd even forgive the pause and look when Melissa had corrected him when he asked if you had a boyfriend.

Melissa notices. Your distaste for him. She knows you as well as you know her. She calls you on it after the first time you meet him. 

“Ya don't like him.” She said, not asked. 

You had shrugged and bought your time by pointing out you didn't really know him to know whether you liked him or not. 

The longer she's with him, though, the more she sees how much you don't like him. You try to hide it, of course. You know how much she likes him and you're not going to be petty and dig at one of the first things that's made her so happy since you met her. You do what you can to focus on being happy for her. 

At the end of the day, Melissa’s happiness is all you really want. You're okay with the knife dug into your chest, really. If it keeps her this happy. 

You don't know if it's her knowing how you feel about Gary, or no longer wanting to put the two of you in the same place, but she introduces you to Barbara. The infamous Barbara Howard that Melissa called her best friend and work wife. You'd heard plenty of her. Even a drunken comment that if Barb wasn't already married and Melissa swung that way she'd make her a Schemmenti. You think she was joking. Mostly. 

As you get to know Barbara, you think to yourself she already is a Schemmenti. With the years she and Melissa have known each other and been such good friends, it isn't surprising she knows all the Schemmenti lore. Though, she seems surprised to find that you do too. In the beginning, often you recognize the story she's telling you from when Melissa had and you interject with the ending. 

Slowly, you and Barbara form your own friendship. Sometimes, Melissa is entirely absent from your get-togethers. Usually for dates with Gary. If Barbara notes your mood is more sullen those evenings, she does you the grace of not mentioning it. 

You realize after a few months that you've seen more of Barbara than you have of Melissa. Most of what you know she's been doing lately is through Barb and not from the red head directly. The knife in your chest pulses around the wound it's made. You miss her. Yet you can't bring yourself to reach out to her yourself. You can't decide which feels worse. Missing Melissa or feeling the stabbing push deeper into you when you do see her. 

You do something you never thought you would. You make Barb your wing woman. Like Melissa once did you. She's perfectly willing and you push away the thought of how many times she'd done the same for Melissa. She makes you promise to call her in the morning before you leave with the woman you meet. You actually go home with her. You let yourself forget everything but the drinks you've had and the woman in front of you. 

You call Barbara in the morning. Well, late morning. You'd slept a bit too much with the hangover you're now severely feeling. You barely have time to say hello before Barbara is apologizing.

“Sorry for what, Barb?”

“I told Melissa.”

You hesitate. You don't love Melissa knowing you had a one night stand but you don't see why that's a reason for the woman to be apologizing to you. 

“Well. She'd have probably found out anyway.” You finally say.

“No,” Barbara says. “I told her I couldn't get a hold of you. She's probably on her way there now.”

“Shit,” You curse. Barbara doesn't even chide you for your language.

Your front door opens so fast it bangs against the wall. You turn to see Melissa standing in your living room with her arms crossing over her chest once she sees you stood in the kitchen.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” 

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

this is so deranged and depraved but andrei and one of those dick mold kits 👀

the idea is yours after andrei catches you using a vibrator that in his mind doesn’t measure up to the size of his cock

he fucks you deep into the mattress, muttering how his cock is the only one that can make you feel good, can make you cum, the only thing big enough to make you satisfied

after you’re in a totally fucked out state, andrei reminds you that he’s off on a two week road trip, leaving in a few days, and he trails his fingers over your still sweaty skin saying, “don’t even think about using that silly little toy while i’m gone. want you dripping for my cock when i’m home”

the next morning, when your orgasm haze is a distant memory, you realize what you agreed to. two weeks, no orgasms? no chance.

if andrei thinks only his cock is good enough for you, an evil little thought occurs to you.

you place the order and thanks to amazon prime, you’ve got your hot little hands on the kit two days later

andrei’s playing video games with neci, headset on and shouting into the microphone, when you dance into the den, kit hidden behind your back

he looks at your briefly before flicking his gaze back to the screen, clocking your mischievous expression and worrying just slightly about it

you wait patiently for him to die in the game, shifting your weight on the balls of your feet, bursting with excitement until andrei finally puts the controller down and lets the headset rest around his neck

“what has you like a…a…” he waves his hand in the air, looking for the expression. “jumping bean? cat that ate the canary? energizer bunny?” you supply options. “jumping bean works,” andrei huffs, furrowing his brow at the strange expression

“so you know how you said i’m not allowed to use my vibrator while you’re gone?”

“a silly piece of plastic isn’t going to make you as satisfied as i do, solnyshka”

“okay but what if the piece of plastic was as big as you are? contoured just like you, with that amazing vein on the underside?”

andrei looks at you like you’re crazy and then when you show him the kit, his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline and he shakes his head. “what is that?”

“it’s a kit, we mix up this gel stuff and then you stick, you know, your dick into it to make an impression and then i can pour silicone in there and tah dah! my very own piece of you while you’re on the road”

andrei’s deadpan. “no”

you wheedle and whine and complain that two weeks with only using your fingers to get yourself off is cruel and unusual punishment and at least he has his fist to fuck

andrei sighs and takes the box from you, studying it. you can see him considering it and you change tack, “obviously it wouldn’t be as good as your cock, not as hard and i love it when you cum in me, but it’s going to be better than my silly little vibrator. and! when you’re back you can fuck me with it too or i’ll suck on it while you fuck me…”

it’s that mental image that seems to send andrei over the edge on his decision. he nods, a little twinkle forming in his eyes. “okay, we’ll do it. but i get to be the one to use it on you first, yes?”

you’ll agree to anything so your head bobbles on a nod and you take the kit back, already skipping off to the kitchen to mix up the ingredients for the mold

andrei leans back on the couch, legs spread wide, lazily palming his cock while he watches you work. he’s more than half hard by the time you finish and he grins at you, “come finish the job, solnyshka. long way to go before i’m ready for that kit”

you leave the kit on the counter and practically dance over to the couch, settling yourself on your knees in front of the couch, andrei’s legs bracketing your body. you eye him hungrily, “i don’t think i’ll have to do too much work,” you grin

andrei shrugs, leaning back and draping his arms over the back of the couch. he gestures at his cock with one hand, “get your hands on me”

you don’t have to be told twice, leaning up on your knees so you can reach for the waistband of his basketball shorts. you pull them down, tapping his thighs so he’ll lift his ass off the couch so the pants will come down. his cock springs free from its confines and you snicker a little at the realization that he was going commando “were you hoping to get lucky later, mr. svechnikov?”

“didn’t have to wait until later, did i?” he asks, hissing when you brush your thumb over the sensitive head of his cock

you hum thoughtfully before licking your palm and wrapping your hand around his shaft

andrei’s hips buck off the couch and he groans at your touch, you keep stroking him until he’s as hard as you know he’s going to get, the head of his cock angry and red and leaking

for good measure, you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and suck gently, enjoying the way he groans your name and tangles his hand in your hair. you pull your head back and press a little kiss to his slit, making andrei moan deep in the back of his throat. “stay still,” you grin wickedly up at him

“i’m going to come in that silly gel,” andrei grunts, fingers gripping the couch cushions

“you can’t, not until it’s set and i have my toy,” you grab the tube and after a little gymnastics and a lot of giggling, andrei’s hard cock is in the tube, the gel leaking out all around the sides and over your hands while you hold it in place

he complains about the temperature and the sensation but you climb onto the couch and distract him with your mouth on his while it sets

after you take him out, he grimaces and rubs his hand over his cock to get the feeling of the gel off, bringing himself close again

this time you take pity on him and wrap your hand around his base and your lips around his head

andrei finishes in your mouth with a grunt of your name and he slumps back into the couch, spent

“thank you for your service,” you giggle hoarsely, dancing off into the kitchen to pour the silicone into the mold

later, when the toy is ready (a perfect replica of andrei’s cock, right down the the veins) he’s true to his word, using it to fuck you to a wet and fast orgasm

“god, wish it were hotter,” you whine around his fingers, stuffed in your mouth, “not the same”

it feels good, so much better than your other toys, but it doesn’t throb inside of you like andrei’s cock

“good,” he growls, “nothing but my cock for my solnyshka”

he ends up having you suck on the toy while he fucks into you hard and fast with the real thing

stuffing you from both ends and seeing you run your tongue over the replica of him, makes andrei see stars when he comes inside of you

definitely loves to get the videos and pictures of you using the toy when he’s on the road but always makes sure to remind you that nothing feels as good as his cock

[eveningepiphany]

pirates gold | H.S series, part two

[part one]

[series masterlist]

summary: challengers are arising as life on the ship continues. not only that, but all kinds of tension is building between you and harry. good and bad... and something that feels forbidden to even entertain in your minds eye.

warnings: swearing, tension, fluff, sexual mentions, talks of violence, harry being so so fine, mentions of kidnapping, one bed trope.

a/n: i cannot believe how long this took me to write, I’m praying I can do part three in half the time. thank you for your patience my loves<3

———

There are plenty of moments you are left wondering how in control of your life you actually are.

If you truly have any power at all— because sometimes it feels like everything is spinning relentlessly out of your grasp.

Well, especially under your current circumstances. Since your last 4 days have been spent as someone else’s prisoner.

Which, you couldn’t have predicted would lead you into the bathroom of your own captor and being left to bathe with his own personal collection of things.

Being in there was a shock enough as it is because… of course you’d noticed how well-groomed he appeared. But to see that he actually had things like soap and hair wash…

Another stereotype you presumed, was that pirates were horrendous when it came to maintaining a sense of personal hygiene. But it was another thing you were evidently incorrect about when it came to Harry. And seemingly the rest of his crew as well.

As you washed off in the shower, scrubbing away the collected dirt, dust and sweat off of your body, you felt almost like a new person.

It felt inexplicably good to use soap again, which is a luxury you took for granted much too often back home. But finally getting rid of all the residue on your skin was an amazing feeling. Including washing away the salt from your ocean dip a few days ago. Which was stuck in the crevices and creases of your skin, like it was slowly dehydrating you from the outside in.

So you took probably longer than you should in his shower… but it didn’t seem as time ticked on that he was in his room or at the bathroom door.

Not even when you eventually stepped out from the water, drying yourself off with a rag-like towel. Looking at yourself in the mirror, taking in your frame, and how the skin under your eyes is a tad less sunken in after a long shower.

Maybe it was from stress, or lack of sleep. But either way, you rubbed your fingers underneath them. Attempting to smooth out the remaining darkness there, as if that would work.

Settling on the fact what was left of them was only temporary, you decide to just get into the clothes Harry had given you. Pretending it doesn’t weird you out as you slide his black shirt over your body.

It was far from tight on you, and the fabric probably could’ve swallowed you up as it clung to you. And as you pulled the soft pants up, they were equally as big.

You gazed in the mirror again, looking at how his clothes fit you. Struggling to envision him in such simplistic clothing.

Suddenly, his body filling out the once baggy pants and shirt is taking up the confines of your mind. They certainly would fit him properly. And likely hug the muscle built on his chest... you have to swat the mental image away, before it conjures into something more.

So immediately, you jump to distract yourself. Eyes roaming around the bathroom until they lock onto the cabinet beneath the bathroom bench.

Your hands don't hesitate, coming to the cupboards to open them, pulling the handles so they unlatch.

It’s sadly sparse inside. Almost entirely empty despite a few miscellaneous items. A hair comb, a dagger sheath and a… sewing kit? You frown at the sewing kit, unable to imagine him doing anything as delicate and time consuming as hand sewing.

However, he does wear intricate outfits. He seemingly prizes them, actually. So, it seems fitting that if wear and tear got to them, he'd be keen to fix them. That's the conclusion you're going to go with anyway.

But regardless, in the small wooden confines, there is nothing you can steal for your own benefit. You think of shutting it, but in the silence something urges you to open the small plastic box anyways.

You drop onto your knees, sliding the container to the edge of the shelving, and hooking your fingers into the latches and pulling the lid upwards.

There are several little threading needles— even clothing pins— placed among regular cotton thread in an array of colours. But there’s also multiple wads of fishing line, which immediately makes you wonder why it's in there. Trying to pinpoint what kind of clothing needs fishing line as a stitching.

You’re about to pull it out, but conveniently, there’s a rattle outside of the door. One that indicates someone is coming into his quarters. You hold back a frustrated sigh, suddenly wishing you had of taken a shorter shower.

Your body kicks into quick movement, hurrying to click his sewing box shut and put it back where it was in the first place. Pushing hard on the latches that now suddenly don’t want to cooperate with your haste.

It’s silent outside of the footsteps that trail to the bathroom door, making you wince as the latch on the cupboard echoes a tiny clack as it’s shut.

The feet stop at the door, and your breath is held from where you’re kneeling. Not sure if you’re hoping for Harry or not.

“Y/N?” His voice calls with a rap on the door, “y’decent?”

“I—“ you slowly rise from the floor, cringing at the creak of the boards beneath your feet as you stand.

“Yea… yep.”

The lock jingles and the door swings open, revealing Harry— who looks no different to how he did almost an hour ago. Black blouse, black pants. Nothing had changed.

You feel suddenly vulnerable standing in his clothes in front of him, and you have to force yourself not to wring your hands at the bottom of his long shirt.

“Mm, nice to see you actually showered, ‘stead of tryin’ to break out.” He comments, nonchalantly stepping in through the door. Eyes scanning you in his clothes.

As he steps closer, the only difference you notice is the red bruising around his knuckles, on the hand hung down by his waist.

“Oh, I tried.” You mused, attempting to push confidence in your tone— adverting your gaze away from his bruised hand.

He hums, still staring at your frame, “To no avail, I see.”

“I suppose not.” You remarked, to which he shrugs. His body language is casual, but you’re still unconvinced that everything is normal.

Now you're staring at him, trying to decipher what the fuck is happening right now. Given the fact nothing about this seems planned.

“But I am confused...” You prompt, and to it, he cocks an eyebrow.

He steps forward, “Go on.”

“What exactly have you done in the last hour?” It comes from your mouth as an accusation. One that draws out a rash laugh from him pink mouth.

“Why is it you assume I’ve done something?” He's awfully close to you now, and it highlights the features on his face. Ones you're desperately trying to pay no attention to. But it's much harder to ignore the fall of his hair over green eyes when its up close.

“Because that just seems the most likely.” You stated. Walking to brush past him—shoulder passing his chest with a light touch— the bathroom feeling far too cramped for the two of you. And the air around you had suddenly gone hot with tension on your end.

You make your way out into his quarters, making use of your need for distance, and deciding to inspect the room while you could.

Harry turns on his heel, watching as you now suddenly walk around his bedroom like it was your birth right. Hands trailing over frames on the wall, and picking up random objects he’d strewn on the floor.

He sighs at this, part of him wanting to stop you from snooping around his place, but he’s also undeniably curious at your mannerisms while looking around. The way your eyebrows pull down into a frown as you pick up an array of things. Including odd ones, like a bag of dried out barnacles, and whetstones block he uses to sharpen his blades with.

“I bought ya up here t’shower. Because unlike many, I have a hygiene standard, darlin’.” He says, and you turn from where you were touching the cover of his unmade bed. Fingertips noting the softness of it. He sleeps here… your brain announces as though it’s unfathomable to imagine him at rest in his own bed. Which was tucked into the corner of the all-wood room, three circular windows running beside its edge.

Looking at his hand again, finally getting the courage to bring it up.

“And your knuckles are swelling up. All bruised. They weren’t like that earlier.”

He smirks, completely bypassing your question, “looking at my hands, ay? Didn’t pick you to be that kind of girl.”

You sneer at his stupid tease, irritated at his arrogance.

“Just seemed all rather impromptu, and now you’re back here with bruised up fists that you didn’t have earlier.” You challenge, after walking slowly away from his bed.

“You don’t stop until you get an answer y’like. Is that right, princess?” He scoffs.

But he knows you’re brilliant at reading someone, tragically so. And it’s obvious you’re not as stupid as he wishes. Because he watches as your eyes narrow, clear that you know he’s dodging your questions for a reason.

“And you don’t give answers unless it suits you best, I take, captain?”

To that, he chuckles, and decides to prove you right, walking over to grab your wrist with the unscathed hand.

“M’clothes are a bit big on you…” he comments, partially using it as an excuse to drag his eyes down your body again. Completely changing the subject.

“Tomorrow, we’re pulling into port, we’ll buy some stuff that actually fits you.” Despite being the one to decide this, there's a pang of disappointment in his chest at you getting out of his oversized clothes. He ignores it. The hand that's becoming all too familiar to your wrist is leading you out of his quarters, and your eyes dart to take in the room a final time. Hoping to commit it to memory.

“That’s a bit doting. Are you going to take me with you, or is that a far fetched wish?” You drawl, already figuring you’ll be locked away while they roam about. Buying you clothes while you sit prisoner.

You should probably just be grateful for the fact he is willing to spend gold on you, given the circumstances. But who would you be kidding if you tried to portray that right now. ‘Thanks for buying me clothes while I sat locked up in your jail cell!’ He would audibly cackle if you said that.

He chuckles at your bitter sounding tone, “I’d bet you’d be rather upset if we went into town without you.”

You scowl at him, having to bite your tongue as to not say anything rash, choosing not to respond at all.

He’s taken you outside of his room, and locked his door with the small ring of keys he keeps on him. Beginning a slow walk along the corridors of the ship, seemingly in no hurry at all. He pulls your arm to rest firmly between his elbow and ribcage as you stroll the halls, as though you’re on some kind of leisurely walk.

To your silent annoyance, he rolls his eyes with amusement, knowing you'll hold quite the grudge if he doesn't take you out when the ships docks at Sintir. “I’ll think about it, dove.”

The two of you walk in quiet for a minute. Clacking of shoes against decking echoes through the hallways below deck. You get lost in thought, until his voice quickly coaxes you out it.

“We’re stopping for two nights.” He suddenly clarifies for you, “After we buy you some suitable clothes, maybe you can come into town after dark.”

You’re skeptical of his offer, given that it’s not a guarantee. But you’re desperate to just get off this ship for a bit. Not even in an attempt to escape, you know that wouldn’t work even if you tried. Purely to be on land again, and around people who aren’t felons at sea.

So you soften your frown a bit, going quiet for a few moments. You decide to try the hopeless approach, no matter how weak your faith is in it. But maybe you'll get some pity from the man beside you, “I miss the towns, and being on solid earth, that’s all. It's all I've ever known.”

You were already embarrassed at how the helpless tone sounded on your voice. Maybe because is wasn't genuine, but either way, internally you gagged a little.

He laughs abruptly at your words, almost shocked that you attempted to persuade him with that.

“No need to pull the damsel in distress card.” He’d shook his head, smiling wide with humor at your expense, “My decision is impartial to a poor attempt at manipulation.”

“It’s not manipulation!” You turn to snap at him, dropping the meek mannerisms just as quickly as you put them on.

“Oh but it is, darling.” He bumps your shoulder with his own, turning a corner that reveals another set of stairs, “y’bad as any other pirate. Outside of the shitty lying.”

You shake your head, huffing out air from your nose as he leads you up them. The annoying thing is that he's right. However you still fight to prove your point.

“Can you blame me? I just want to go into a town and do something normal. Have a little stability amongst this shit show!” Your grumble made him chuckle, as it seemed to always do. Like as if he could not take a word you say seriously, even if he tried.

“I suppose I can’t fault you for it.” He hums, pushing a hatch open after unlinking your arms. He went through it first so he could help you up. Hands steadying you once your feet come in contact with the floor. Because suddenly, you’re on the bow of the ship. The afternoon sun out and warm on your skin as the waves are calmly lapping over themselves.

You momentarily forget that you’re pissed off with him. All you can focus on is the fresh air and golden sun.

His eyes take in your deep inhalation, and the way you look so relieved to be outside. Understandable given the fact you spent 2 days locked in a tiny room.

A feeling he can’t name stirs in his chest. And the voice in the back of his head is suddenly encouraging taking you into Sintir while the ships docked there.

“It’s… nice out.” You exhale, your gaze veering to him momentarily as you speak. His green eyes are locked onto yours, and you quickly make to slide your attention back out on the blue water.

Which is easy to look at, since it doesn’t technically end. Just melts into the equally blue horizon where the sky meets the sea.

“It almost always is, up this far north.” He nods, pushing the sudden emotion away. “It won’t stay that way once we leave the port. There’s a storm well in due this week.”

You mentally file away that you’re up north, but a part of you gets anxious with the idea of being out while there’s a storm.

On land, you always enjoyed them. They brought a sense of serenity to you. The thunder and rain sometimes came so loud in Kelna it drowned out everything going on in your life. Temporarily, of course, however it was nice while it lasted. But on water was a different story. You’d heard they’re rocky rides, treacherous even. That ships often enter a storm, and don't come out the other side.

“Don’t look s’worried.” He comments at your suddenly terrified energy, he places a palm on your back to usher you forwards.

“Just that I really don’t want to die out here.” You sigh, not denying the fear since it’s clearly that obvious.

You walk willingly wherever he’s decided to take you, sharing a short wave to the man up by the ships wheel. He had messy head of hair, one that you imagined when it was windy, would blow all over the place.

“Have faith in us, Y/N. We’ve weathered many storms jus’ fine.”

“Oi, H,” the scruffy pirate you just waved at calls down to his captain, as he tracks down the stairs with you. Going from the steering deck to the main deck.

Harry tilts his head over his shoulder, pausing on the stairs where you both stand, indicating he’s listening with a nod. You briefly trail your eyes over his side profile. The curve of his nose, and the cut of his jaw.

But his crewmate barely gets a couple words out before he’s interrupted shortly after, “How did ya go wi—“

“Fine, Liam.” Abruptly, Harry cuts in. Not rudely, but curtly.

The man on the wheel, who now has a name to you— Liam— alternates his gaze between the two of you suddenly. Like he’s dawning upon why he just got interrupted.

“Ah, I see.” He nods, quickly busying himself with what he was doing beforehand.

Harry continues walking you down a set off stairs, back down to main deck.

“I’m going to assume that was about earlier, and has something to do with why you dragged me out of my cell.” You say, attempting indifference.

“You’d assume right.” He nods, but you wait for him to say something more— which he doesn’t.

You sigh in frustration, “I'll also take that's why I'm still up here, and not locked back up."

You're trying to gauge yet again how much of his actions are kindness, and how much of them are out of an attempt to gain something.

"Not why you're out here, 'm tryna give ya a bit of sun." He brings you to a stop at the far left of the main deck, smirking as he talks, "I've got to patch up a old sail, incase we need it. No better place to do it but out here."

He pays no mind to you as he kneels down to a storage unit a few feet away from you in the floor, unlatching it, and hauling out a huge canvas sail it. The sheet crinkles as he carries it out, and dumps it on the wooden deck.

You frown, wondering if he's the only one on the ship who can do any sort of needlework... because it seems like the only reasonable option as to why he's doing it himself. So you ask, "Why exactly are you doing it?"

He laughs, striding back over to pull a much larger sewing kit from the bottom of the storage space, and also sheet of spare canvas.

"You are filled with clichés of us, darling. What is makin' y'ask that?" He chucks the kit and extra fabric down, following to sit shortly after.

You're still standing as you try to conjure up an answer that doesn't sound unbelievably stupid. But he is cross-legged, pulling the damaged side of the sail over his muscular thighs.

"Because..." You pause, still unsure how to phrase it as you stare at him. You're looking at his side profile again, and it's lit by the overhead sun.

He glances your way, essentially looking up at you from where he's positioned on the floor. He finishes your sentence for you, "'Cause I'm a captain? And why would I do something productive for myself and my crew when I could make someone below me do it?"

"Well... basically."

"You're going t’find out very quickly the dynamic between me ‘n my crew." he pulls open the sewing box, filled with larger needles, and thick thread.

"I may be their Captain, but we’re all like brothers. I see them as that, not as my workers. They are my team, and we help out whenever and wherever we can." He states, sounding completely sincere, "And, I'm the only one that can actually hand sew things, so here we are."

"Here we are..." you parrot quietly, almost finding it endearing the way he talks about his crew mates.

Delicately, he’s threading up a needle and starting to take it through the sail and its new panel, lined up over the relatively large tear. His hands are steady, hair fallen over his eyes as he concentrated on starting the stitch. You stare at the dark bruising over his knuckles, and you swear that wasn’t as deep a shade earlier.

Without thought, you slowly sink to the ground, back resting against the side of the boat, not waiting long before you start to ask him more questions.

“Whatever happened to put that large of a hole in your sail?” You’d quizzed.

He knew it wouldn’t take long before you started to pry him with more of your wonders, “A cannonball.”

Your face can’t hide the shock, because of how casually he answered you. Your lips were parted in surprise at his response when he glanced over to you. A smirk over his mouth, popping a dimple on his cheek.

“Jus’ a run in with another ship.” He mused, “They tore a hole in our sail, and we tore a hole into the side of their boat.”

You almost sputter a laugh, of course he has to brag about not having lost that altercation.

“I hope you have a winning streak under your belt.” You shake your head, smiling a little.

“Why? Because I’m carryin’ such precious cargo.” Alluding to you with a charming cadence to his voice.

You’re stretched out in the sun as he watches you, and you almost look happy. If he didn’t know any better. But maybe you are a little. Circumstantially, you’re probably far from it. But in this moment, you look calm in a way he hasn’t seen before.

“Obviously. And all this would be for nothing if I go down with your ship and you don’t get your gold.”

“Tragic really, after putting up with y’through all this. Including jumpin' off m'own ship.” He teases.

“It’s been like, 5 days. I cant have been that annoying outside of the jumping thing.” You can’t tell if you’re offended at his jabs like you should be. You wish you fully were, but the banter is almost pleasing to have with him. It gives you something to laugh at. And also gives you an excuse to be insolent with him.

“Mm, if only y’knew…” he sighs in faux exhaustion, a tiny laugh escaping through his façade.

The way the ship cruised through the waves was inexplicably calming to experience up here. With the sun and the warm around surrounding you.

His hands were weaving the needle through the material, it’s mesmerising to watch. He’s definitely skilled at it, since it has hardly taken him long to get one side sewed on.

“You look quite content over there.” He comments, not looking up from where he was.

The observation stuns you a little, because of how true it was.

“I… it’s hard not to be after being in a tiny wooden room for 2 days straight.” You answer, but it doesn’t feel like the only reason why.

“Y'know,” he begins, “I excepted someone like you to have the worst set of sea sickness, and to be constantly terrified, but you've seemingly proved me wrong.”

“Have you underestimated me?”

“Possibly.” He remarks. And you don’t answer him again.

You're struck with the realisation that you actually don’t hate being above deck. Or really on the ship— outside of the reasons to why you’re on it. You think you might have underestimated yourself.

Like a reel of film, your mind flashes through images of a life like this. Outside of the damn cell at the bottom of the boat.

One where you spend your days free on the water. Both free in regards to your imprisonment here— but also from your life and looming responsibilities at home.

You envision yourself suddenly in the most pirate-like attire, standing up on those huge masts like they do in fictions sold at the bookstore— the odd one that would romanticise the life of piracy instead of completely defacing it.

It hits you like a slap in the face. One that stings and burns on the side of your cheek, lingering for days after it initially impacted.

You have to forcibly squeeze your eyes closed, because there is no room to have feelings like that in your already muddled brain.

Harry speaks up from where you forgot he was sitting, “What exactly is Kelna like?”

“Prison.” You blurt, hand almost coming to slap over your own mouth in surprise.

Your head is in disarray, and that somehow slipped its way out. Because all the sudden, you realise you almost felt more trapped in your own home than you honestly do here.

You tried to escape this ship out of fear that you would be killed— or sent somewhere worse— but when that element is removed from the equation, you’re certain anything is better than Kelna.

“Im kidding—“ you hurriedly spew out, but his head is turned to frown at you, “it’s nice… it’s great. Very lovely people and we have… yea. It’s great.”

Of course, you love your family. Some of them. Your younger brother and older brother, your younger sister. But outside of your siblings, there were few people to love.

“Sound like y’trying to convince yourself more than me.”

You guess you kind of were in a sense. And a part of you wanted to just say how much you never wanted to go back, if that were an option. You only ever told your older brother Poe about how desperate you were to get away from the court. One person. One soul out of this whole world of them knows.

Only Poe knows how terrified you were that Misha— Kelna's infamous prophet— would come to the podium to speak the most misconstrued riddle, that supposedly announced you were to take the crown. Your own stomach churns at the concept.

But revealing that to Harry felt like giving away a vulnerable piece of yourself. He doesn't deserve to be the second person you entrust with something so pressing for you. Which you remind yourself that you swore not to lay an ounce of trust in this man’s hands. That your impartialness to a separate life here is due to your life at home. And that freedom on this ship is unlikely.

“I’m not…” you breathe out in defeat. Trying desperately to steer clear of the subject, because its easy to drag you into a pit of ever-welling anxiety.

However, he can sense your complete shift in energy. This is your first time really talking about home. And it seems like you have more than bitterness to it. He expected a whimsical answer. One that showed your longing for return, or that you even valued part of being in a court. But he got nothing of the sorts.

It slips from his soft mouth before he can stop it, “Are you not safe at home?”

He’s completely disregarded his sewing venture, and has turned to look right at you. His features have softened, and he looks genuinely a little concerned. But you brush it off for deceit. Of course he would want to know something like that. Want to pick away at your seams until all the sudden you're unraveling in the palm of his hands, tearing your whole village down with it.

“Yes!” You jump to clear that up. Secondly feeling like he's almost babying you.

“Probably safer there than I am here.” You bark, but it’s hardly true if you really think about it. Attempts on a royals life are always a threat, and it’s happened to your family members before. Which transcends into a whole other story, equally as painful for you as anything else at home.

His brows pull into a frown. He realises he’s struck something sensitive here. The topic seems to make you recoil completely. Your body language has changed, just like that. Straight from relaxed to on edge.

“I feel like there's a pretty equal risk." He provides, picking back up the threaded needle. Seeing what more he can coax out of you.

"I—" you cut yourself off.

"I am fine." Your tone is conclusive.

"Is that why you always sneak out of your royal residence in the middle of the night?" He pushes, a sarcastic lilt to his deep voice.

"That isn't any of your business!" You groan, "I'm not asking why it is you're a felon at sea, or your tragic past life that's lead you here, am I?"

"But you probably wonder..." he smirks, impartial to your jab.

"I don't, you ass!" You state defiantly.

"I'm just trying to gauge how much you actually like your homeland."

You scoff in disbelief, "Oh, piss off. You just want something to hold over me."

It's clear to him something much deeper is going on than what he initially thought. But its also evident that you are far from interested in talking about it now. So, he files away what information and suspicion he had, and finally allows the subject to change.

"Whatever princess... y'getting mouthy, and I've gathered that usually doesn't end well for either of us." he rolls his eyes in amusement, "You'll have to to tell me what kind of clothes you like, so I know what I'm in for."

"It only doesn't end well because you're so goddamn pushy." You huff.

"This is why you ended up locked in a cell for two days." his tone is airy, considering the topic, "Also, best of y'to recall I'm the one who decides whether or not ya coming off the ship tomorrow."

You hold back your bitter quip at his reminder, but not the deep sigh from your lungs. You feel stressed. Overwhelmed even. Which is the only good thing about your tiny room below deck, its stable. You know what you get down there. Yourself, and no personal questions that leave you reeling.

He finishes his double stitch in silence. Thinking of you, and wondering what exactly your perception of your home life is. In a long answer— not the short and guarded ones he's currently receiving.

You sit, still in the sun, but feeling significantly more riled up than earlier. That's when Harry stands from his work, and your eyes dart to the patch that's now one with the sail. Intricately sewed in place, with a clearly detail-oriented eye.

"An' she's done." He nods proudly, talking to himself as he picks the complete task up from where it was spread on the deck. Carrying it back into where it came from— along with the closed sewing kit. Laying it folded in the floor compartment and latching it closed.

His hands brush themselves off along his black pants. They admittedly fit him perfectly. Nipped in at his sculpted waist, and outlining his likely firm thighs.

His green eyes slanted down to you, as if he could feel your own gaze burning into his tanned skin. He smirks, a dimple popping out on his cheek as he looked at you.

He was trouble.

He looked at you like you were a game to be played. A challenge to be conquered. And somehow you met him right at that very level. You wanted to prove something to him— and the thing is, you don't even know what.

Its not something you can reverse, or take back. It's already long started, the second you pushed back from his demands when you first met.

His legs that you were just studying stride over to where you sit. He towers over you, examining you with a silent and smug smile.

"A corset, perhaps?" He proclaimed without context, and your face twists in confusion.

"Although, I've heard they are very hard to get on and off a woman." It clicks in your brain he's currently talking about you. Imagining you in the likes of a corset.

It's like he was pondering it aloud just for his own sick enjoyment, because he keeps going as your expression quickly bleeds into a scowl.

"And, there is no doubt in my mind you'd drive your own elbow into my stomach before you let me help lace you into a corset. Or out of it." His voice has dropped an octave, and his chocolatey hair has fallen over his forehead again. For such a heinous topic, he has the face of an angel. Maybe a fallen one... but an angel nonetheless.

"You would be correct." You confirm, "And I spend enough time in corsets at home. God forbid I wear one when theres no need for it."

He suddenly juts a hand out for you to take, which you stare at for an awfully long time, analysing the dark marks over his knuckles. Eventually settling to let him help you stand. It pulls you up effortlessly despite its visibly injury, and you feel the rough parts of his large hand as it cups yours.

"Espcially if im going to be laying around in a cell, whats the point in that?"

He still has grip on your hand, "Oh, dove, y'not going back down there for a little bit."

Your gaze narrows immediately. And you ask the first question and only question that makes sense in your mind.

"Who else is down there?"

"Someone who deserves to be left in the room with the cuff holders on the wall. Attached to them."

Your stomach sinks a little, recalling him saying thats sectioned off for people who have done truly bad things. Seems like it would explain his battered up knuckles perfectly.

But with the closest thing you’ve gotten to an answer all day, you’re quick to mentally move onto what the effects you the most.

"Where am i gonna..."

He says with a completely unfazed expression, "With me."

“With you?”

“That’s what I said, no?” He raises his brows, “unless you’d rather be down there with him. Who we’d then certainly have to kill once he knows you’re here.”

“Christ.” A wave of shock rocks through you at his vulgar wording, “can you put me nowhere else?”

“No.” He states, starting to walk with your hand gripped in his, “it’s just for the night. Don’t worry s’much.”

“Don’t worry? You just told me you would have to kill a man if I chose to stay away from you.”

You’re glaring at him as he holds open a door for you— one that leads to another kitchen room— despite you’re bitter look, he’s unbothered entirely.

“Let’s get you something to eat. Allow ya to process the fact you’re stuck with me for a night.”

———

Your night was significantly different to all the others you’d had on the ship this past week.

The evening had come on relatively quick. You’d sat above deck after he fed you some fruit, and watched the sun set as his crew gathered to share a pint.

You observed their dynamics, and the way a few men got themselves silly on one too many beers. Stumbling all over the deck.

Harry stayed closer to sober though—a bit tipsy, but nothing drastic— and as evening bleed into night, many of the boys had turned in for bed around midnight.

His blonde crew mate had shouted out for you to come down and have a pint, but you laughed it off. His drunken plea seeming far out of line considering the circumstances.

Not long after most of them had left, Harry came up to where you sat. You were perched atop a step on the stairs, and you know he’d been watching you. Making sure— as you stayed a fair distance away— that you didn’t disappear.

His hand had gestured out to you again as he had apparently come to collect you. You stood without it’s help, and he snorted a bitter laugh.

“You're infuriating, you know? Unbelievably so. And I feel it all the way in my stomach.” The lilt in his voice is intoxicating. He sounds like he disdains you, yet is addicted to the feeling all at the same time.

He’s standing the step below yours, and once you had fully straightened out, you were slightly above him. It almost gave you an added boost of confidence, “Right in here?”

Your hand reached out to breach the minimal distance, brushing your pointer and middle finger against where the skin of his stomach is.

His hand grabbed around your wrist, staring at you— he pressed your palm flat against his chest— you could feel the warmth of his skin beneath the sheer black blouse he was still in.

His bruised knuckles are pressed over yours. The dark spots a mosaic of blacks and blues— you wonder how bad it would hurt if you pressed down on them. Just out of spite, of course.

“Right there.” He affirmed.

“Too bad you have to room with me tonight.” You sigh in mock sympathy.

He looks like he’s about to say something else, when he bites his tongue and does his usual thing— tugging you along wherever he plans to go.

His leftover mates say goodnight as he walks past— all of them regarding you as well, surprisingly.

You’re lead to his quarters as you’d suspected, and you’re now faced with the situation of how this is going to all pan out.

Once inside the dark room, he lights a wall candle with a match— that he pulled from god knows where— casting the space in a golden glow.

He is quick to then shed the black material that’s covering his chest over himself without hesitation. Your gaze skates along the muscled skin of his back. Littered in black ink and scars that immediately piqued your curiosity. Ones that you undeniably want to trace over, and enquire how exactly they got there. Which feels like an odd thought to be entertaining considering how much you push to hate him.

His hands unlatch his belt, still adorning all its weapons. And he walks to the foot of his bed, laying it atop the cover.

“Would I be correct to assume I’m taking the floor?” You put forward, and his head turns over his shoulder.

“That one’s up t’you. Unless you’re that desperate to get away from me.” He drawls, the alcohol making him a tad drowsy now that the buzz has worn off.

A part of you begs to be stubborn. To say no. But the other half of you in rioting to lay down on a mattress for the first time in almost a week. Because you couldn’t physically sleep another night on the hard wooden floor.

You breathe outward, walking over in silence as you climb beneath his sheets without warrant.

He tries to ignores it, but a small smile breaks out over his lips before he can stop it. So he turns swiftly around, unzipping his black pants and shedding them off his long legs.

“What exactly are you doing?” You shrilly ask, palms ready to shield your eyes if he decides to strip the only remaining fabric below his laurel-adorning hips.

“You’re not sleeping naked next to me.” Certainty riddles your tone, and there is no way you’ll budge on it.

But to your statement he laughs, “M’not naked.”

“Not far off it either.” You murmur, observing as he walks over to the candle he not long lit and blows it out.

The room falls into darkness, all you can hear are the plodding of his feet on the wood floor.

Once he’s next to the bed, you hear his voice, “You’re on my side, by the way. S’budge up.”

You scoot over without words, and feel the mattress sink as his weight comes onto it.

“Better than the floor, no?” He asks quietly, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body.

“Undecided.” You whisper. “Comfier I suppose.”

His breath is quiet and consistent as you both fall quiet. You’re certain he falls asleep before you, because you’re awake for a while. Staring at the ceiling wondering how you got here yet again.

But eventually, the tiredness you’ve been feeling for the last couple days catches up on you, and it lulls you into a deep sleep. Unbroken from any uncomfortable surfaces or loud noises. Just peace.

Peace until you stir for the first time in the morning.

When soft light is shining through the circular windows, and you realise how truly warm you are. All the edges of your consciousness are blurred and hazy with your sleep induced state. You nestle into what you thought was the mattress, but register somewhere in your head that your body is pressed against someone.

And after that, it’s confirmed when they move. A slight roll, and a warm heavy arm that drapes over your waist, tugging you closer.

Your eyes dart open, and are met with the sideways view of a swallow on a collarbone. It stops you dead in your tracks. Because slowly you realise your plastered to someone's side. Harry's side. Legs thrown over his hips, head nestled into his neck.

You're frozen for a moment. Because he smells so nice. But alarm bells are sounding in your head. Too close to the enemy, they riot.

The rigidness of your body stirs him again, rolling him further into you. Legs intertwined, and the bridge of your nose bumping against the curve of his throat. Now he's truly swallowing up all your senses. His scent is genuinely intoxicating. Salty, just as you'd imagine a pirate would smell— of the ocean and all that lies beneath it. But it has a woodsy tone to it, deep and masculine. One you wonder how he just naturally carries.

His tattoos are gorgeous up close, chest chiseled and dusted with soft dark hairs. You use the finger that’s between your body and his to brush gently over the butterfly on his stomach. Tracing the details, despite how wrong it feels. In your moments of timid admiration, you don’t realise his eyes have opened. Green and glazed over with sleep, it takes him a solid minute to register what he's watching you do.

An intake of breathe, and his gravelly voice pressed out the only thing he can even think of saying, “g’morning.”

Physically, you flinch. Startled at his sudden consciousness. Finger withdrawing from its tender movements, your heart pounding.

“I— hello.” You whisper, unsure how long he’s been awake.

He stretches, which in turn scoots his body down the bed, leaving you face to face with him. A pink tongue juts out over his lips— wetting them.

“I should’ve established a no-cuddle policy.” You state, eyes wandering the plains of his face.

To this, his morning voice rumbles a laugh, “are you trying to blame me for this? ‘Cause you’re on m’side, touching up my chest, dove.”

You turn your head over your shoulder, glancing to the gap from where you originally feel asleep and where you are now. Red flushed over your face, It does look incriminating on your end.

A guilty sigh falls from your lips before you purse them together. Not having an explanation for how you ended up like this.

“S’okay.” His voice was so deep, and it sunk into your ears. Almost drawing a shiver out of you. It was attractive.

You can’t tell if that observation is coming only from the fact you have just spent a night curled into his chest. But it’s all you can think about.

“Didn’t mean to.” You say, the closest you were coming to an apology.

“Mmm, I bet.” He murmurs, his hand leaving from where it was on your waist and going to comb through his hair.

Perfectly tousled from sleep, he brushed through it with his fingers. You take the opportunity now that his hand has left your waist, to sit up, averting your eyes from the way his touch glides through his soft hair.

You look out the window, and immediately you’re shocked. You see land. Not even that far away.

“Oh.”

“What?”

“There’s land…”

“Ah,” he also props himself up with his elbows, “so there is.”

“Best we get ready.” He shrugs his bare shoulders, and you quickly jolt your head this way.

We?

He’s far from shy as he threw the covers off himself, with the daylight streaming through the windows, his whole body was on display.

You wondered if he realised the kind of body he had on him. Because undeniably, seeing him in just boxers makes your throat bob.

“Do you say we because you intend on taking me off the ship?” You ask, a silent plea behind your words.

“Tonight.” He states, glances back to see the palpable excitement spread over your face.

You rush out of bed, a sudden burst of energy at his confirmation. He is shocked as suddenly your arms collide with his bare waist.

“Thank you. Thank you.” You really are grateful, and you’re so desperate to get off this boat for a bit.

His lips part in surprise, “that’s… y’welcome?”

You hold him longer than you should, a part of you a little ashamed at your lack of self discipline. Because you should be able to contain yourself. You eventually pull yourself from him, smiling in a way he hasn’t seen before.

“We’re probably gonna dock in… 20 minutes? We’ll be gone for most of the day. I’ll come back and get you at evening.”

It sounded like a long time to wait. But you are sure you could do it. So you nod, enthusiastically.

You go and sit yourself on the edge of his bed, wondering where you’re going to end up— what the town will be like, where you’ll go— all while watching Harry go through his closet for an outfit.

It reminded you almost of how a royal would dress, particularly about what came out and what would go with what.

He stands with his back to you, still just in boxers. He has a nice ass.

You mentally scold yourself, yet unable to look away from him as he pulls a maroon pair of pants over his hips. They’re left unzipped as he gets a off-white linen shirt to tuck into them. However the shirt was left almost entirely unbuttoned. And his cross necklace sits between his pecs that are on full display.

He belts his weaponry around his waist, taking it off the wall from where they were hung. Odd of him to leave them so in the open, when you could’ve stabbed him in the night while he slept.

“Are you leaving me in here?” You ask, watching as he collects a few last minute things from around his room.

“S’long as you don’t trash the place.”

You think about teasing him, but decide not to risk it. You piss him off, then you’ll likely get put somewhere without anything to snoop around. And also miss out on getting off the ship tonight.

So you just nod. And at that, he’s satisfied.

“Well, m’off then. Don’t do anything stupid, Princess.” He raises his brows, face serious until it breaks into a small smile.

“I won’t.” You lie, because how are you meant to guarantee that.

He walks out, and obviously locks you in. You wait an hour, until you’ve been docked for a while before you start to dig around his room.

Not forgetting to take some time looking out the window to figure out where the hell you are in the world. Nothing was geographically giving it away, but once you saw a small fishing cart on the pier, you read Sintir fishery.

Sintir is so far away from your homeland, you let out an audible gasp when you read it. There’s no fucking way, you’d thought.

But as you walk away from the window, you register that it has technically been a week since you’d been taken.

You ponder it as you start to go through his things. You feel like some kind of home invader. Rummaging through a trunk under his bed, raiding draws, and flicking through his racks of clothes. Digging into pockets as though you were waiting to happen upon something of value.

It turned out to be the smartest places you looked, because in a thick raincoat, you fucking found it.

A key. One he has to have forgotten about, since there’s no way in the world he’s left you in here without being certain there’s no way to get out.

You ran to the door of his room, and held your breath as the sharp metal got pushed into the lock by your eager hands.

You turned it, jostling it a bit. And it clicked.

Quietly, you reach for the handle, gently pulling it down and breathing out as the door unlatches.

There’s no time to wait as you slink outside. Clicking it shut, and slowly trying to recall your way back down to the chambers.

Every noise has you on edge, and you’re terrified to get caught. Waiting to turn a corner and one of his crew mates to be there, catching you in the act. But it’s not enough to stop you. You may have made a few wrong turns, but you end up in a hallway that jogs your memory.

You make your way down the stairs to the cells, unable to keep your footsteps entirely quiet. It’s without warning you realise the space down there is in fact still occupied by someone… just like you’d initially feared.

You’re met with a guttural groan, and suddenly your anxiety nearly triples. It’s masculine— and when you reach the bottom of the stairs, still out of view from the cell door— you can confirm it when the voice echoes out from the dim room.

“Let me out, you… you fuckin’ bastards.” Whoever it is sounds exhausted, like they’ve been teetering on the edges of life or death for hours.

When you don’t reply he lets out a wet and chesty cough as he continues, “I don’t care about tha’ whore no more! The princess means nothing to me.”

Your heart is racing at the mention of yourself, and the man sounds like he’s dying. It’s certain in your mind now this man’s face was probably what caused the bruising on Harrys fist.

A heavy bang comes from his cell, sounding like metal cuffs being slammed against a wall.

His speech turns to slur as you slowly back yourself back up the stairs. Curiosity always kills the cat, you think. And you wished you’d stayed in Harry’s room.

“Or jus’ kill me already!” He begs, tone shaking with exhausted rage, “already beat me to a pulp after I called that royal a good f’nothing slut. S’cmon!”

That was your cue to leave, and as you break off into a near run down the halls, you’re shaking the whole time.

Yet somehow, despite what anyone would’ve expected, you made it back to Captains quarters without a single run in. Not a soul knows you found a key.

You slide down the relocked door once you’re inside, and pant with not only the physical exertion, but the anxiety you just put yourself under.

It takes a fair while before you can move again, but your hands skate along the floorboards beneath you, tracing the wood grains to calm down.

Rising, you go back to his closet to put the small key back exactly where you found it. Not taking chances in trying to harbour it for yourself.

The room is deafeningly quiet, it forces your mind to hear the likely dying man’s words on repeat. And wonder if Harry really punched the man because he called you a slut…

The only person that knows is him.

He only knows that the second that sack of shit opened his mouth and said the only thing you’d be good for is ‘a quick fuck and some gold’ he absolutely lost it.

He only knows the feeling of pure, red-hot anger that took over him until he slammed the side of his fist into the slimy man’s face. More than once. He’s not sure how many times, until it was bloody, and until his knuckles already had a bruise festering below the skin— darkening by the minute.

And god, can he not stop thinking about how it made him feel. It was all consuming. It solidified that you were not going back down into the cells. He would rather have you in his own bed than within a 5 metre radius of that scum.

So as he walks through the town, splitting off from his crew to go by you clothes, he realises that you’re making more of an impression on him than he thought.

And while he piles up half a wardrobe for you, not even worrying about how much it’ll all add up to, he clocks just how… infatuated he’s possibly become with you.

Just how he’s suddenly ended up in this position. Where he hates you, yet wants to protect you— and even sometimes dote on you.

God— It’s dangerous.

That feeling that lingers when he thinks about you. Both a good and a bad one.

You were dangerous for him… and he’s still trying to decide how much, and in what way. But the biggest thing, is he’s worried for when he finds out.

Whether it’s going to be when you stab him in the back— either metaphorically or physically— or when you trace your delicate touch over his bare chest, so gently his mental resolve cracks along with the walls guarding his heart.

His conclusion as he checks out with a plethora of clothes for you, you’re either going to kill him, or he’s going to end up killing for you.

Oh, and that he’s certain he wants to kiss you. But that’s a whole other thing he has to mentally unpack.

———

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i really hope you guys enjoyed this part since i have rewrote it and reread it that many times i seriously have no idea if it’s any good HAHA

[sxcret-garden]

ღ NCT Dream Jeno x fem-bodied!reader ღ words: ~2.5k ღ genre: college AU, roommates AU, a bit of humor if you squint, smut ((subby) perv!Jeno, a bit of humiliation, handjob (idol receiving), masturbation, voyeurism, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms) ღ warnings: none ღ prompt: “How many times have you jerked off to me?”

It’s a Thursday afternoon like any other - you arrive at home at around 4pm after the end of your last class, you’re slightly exhausted from having a busy day, and you’re craving nothing more than some alone time with your laptop and some comfort food.

Except that you didn’t expect to hear your roommate moan your name upon entering your shared flat. You think you misheard it at first - maybe you’re more tired than you thought and you’re so out of it that you’re having hallucinations? - but then you hear it a second time. Jeno, most likely in his room, is calling out your name loud and clear, followed by a groan that causes blood to rush to your cheeks. You’re a little embarrassed about it at first, but at the same time you find it strangely amusing. And so, you make the most immoral decision in a while, and you draw closer to his room as quietly as possible to eavesdrop.

“Mmmh… feels so good, Y/N…” you hear him mutter. “Your pussy… so tight…” You raise your eyebrows as you're caught off guard by the dirty things leaving his mouth, but at the same time a huge grin appears on your face. It doesn’t come as a surprise that he’s into you - you’ve known that something’s up for weeks, and even your friends who occasionally come over when you’re both home have noticed that he has a crush on you. He hasn’t made any clear advances on you though, and neither would you for as long as you’re stuck living under the same roof. You don’t mind that he obviously treats you differently than his other friends, that he smiles more to himself when he’s around you and that sometimes he stares at you a little too long when he thinks you’re not looking. However, the thought of attempting to date someone you’re already living with would’ve never crossed your mind either.

And still, here you are now, listening in on Jeno getting himself off to what you assume is a very detailed fantasy about you, and you’re somehow not repulsed by that at all. And so you bite your lip in excitement as you hear him groan your name over and over again, spelling out bits and pieces about the mental image in his head. 

“Ride me… yeah… just like that…” An uncontrolled moan escapes him, making you think he’s about to cum, and you wonder whether you should announce your presence before, after, or not at all. “Ah… your tits… I love your tits bouncing like that…” And then it happens. You crack up. You make a noise. And at the same time he stops making noise altogether. You’ve given yourself away, and in order to spare him the suspense that you imagine is killing him at this very moment, you step through the half open door. Standing in his doorframe now, your gaze finds his huge hand wrapped around his cock in all its pre-orgasmic glory, and then also his wide open eyes, quivering lips, and deep red cheeks. He gapes at you, opening and closing his mouth like a fish under water, and you almost feel a little sorry for him.

“Excuse me, but would you let me in on the fun or am I supposed to keep pretending I’m not here while you’re getting off to my bouncy tits?” Jeno remains speechless. You’d have thought he’d immediately try to hide, try to talk himself out of this situation, but none of the likes. He just keeps sitting there, at the edge of his bed, frozen. 

“What day is it?” That’s the first thing he says when he finally speaks.

“Thursday?”

“Fuck. Sorry. Oh my god. I thought it was Friday. Shit.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you lean against the doorframe. Friday is when you would’ve had an evening class, so it makes sense that he thought he’d be undisturbed for another while. However, this also makes another burning question arise - almost as burning as Jeno’s deep red ears.

“How many times have you jerked off to me?” Jeno looks around the room, obviously in a panic, and somehow his hand is still wrapped around his exposed dick.

“U-uhm… like… today?”

“Lee Jeno, my god. I didn’t think you were such a huge pervert.”

“I… I’m sorry?” Now he grins abashedly, like a five year old boy that has just been caught preparing a prank on someone, which makes quite the contrast to the rest of the position he’s in.

“At least it’s not on my bed…” you comment, and when he seems to run through another circle of internal panic at your words, you immediately brush them off, gesturing wildly. “You know what? No, let’s not talk about this.” Though, if you’re perfectly honest with yourself, on second thought it somehow turns you on to think he’s secretly snuck into your room just to get off on you there.

“I… can I have a minute or two? And then we uh… talk about this?” Your roommate gives you an apologetic yet mischievous grin, and you profusely shake your head.

“No. No, you can not have a minute or two.” And then you push yourself off the doorframe, and you take a few steps to his bed until you’re standing right in front of him. You see him gulp as he looks up at you, and a single drop of sweat makes its way down the side of his face. Perking up an eyebrow, you slip out of your shirt, throwing it to the ground somewhere next to you. 

“So… how many times?” You pose the question once again as you put your hands on his shoulders, and a knee between his legs. 

“T-today it’s… the first time…”

“And overall?” You lean in and you let your lips ghost over his neck. “Be good and tell me the truth.”

“U-uhm…” Jeno stutters, unable to bring himself to answer. You find it kind of cute, and when you nip at the skin below his ear and you let a palm glide down the shirt covering his stomach, he becomes even more flustered. You decide to tease him for a while, running your fingertips back up and raking them into his hair as you take your sweet time scattering kisses all over his neck. He leans his head back a little, allowing you better access, and you have to grin at how needy he is.

“Been close?”

“Huh?”

“Were you close to having an orgasm when I barged in?” you clarify, and you lift your head to get a good look at his face. 

“I-…”

“Just tell me. Maybe I’ll help you out a bit…”

“V-very close…” He’s still embarrassed that you caught him. You can tell by his stammering and by the way his cheeks are still dusted pink, but when you put your hand over his, slowly sliding it towards the tip of his cock in order to take over for him, he relaxes with a sigh.

“Now… how many times?” You stroke him slowly, watching him melt under your touch with a groan.

“F-faster…” he mutters under his breath, and you huff.

“Then answer my question.”

“A few times…?”

“Oh really?” You apply some pressure when going over his tip, and another desperate gasp escapes him.

“M-maybe every Friday… for… some time…”

“You are such a perv,” you say, but at the same time you speed up the movement of your hand. Jeno throws his head into his neck with a groan, digging his fingernails into the bedsheets at his sides.

“I heard you call my name too,” you say. “Wanna let me hear that again? Right in front of me?” If looks could kill you’d be dead by now, but when you cock your head to the side and you stop moving your hand, he’s quick to give in.

“Y/N…” he moans, “keep going. I’m begging you…” You smirk at his request, and you give him what he wants.

“It’s really cute how much control you can have over a guy once you have his dick in your hand.” You say that, not thinking much of it, but it seems to be doing something for him, as he squeezes his eyes shut and moans your name again.

“Y/N… I’m gonna-” His load spills into your hand as he clenches his teeth and a strained groan escapes his throat. You stay like that for a few seconds, drinking up his blissful expression that none other than you is responsible for, and then you get up to grab a tissue from beside his bed to clean yourself up.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry, I-” Jeno gets ready to apologize, pulling his pants back over his softened dick, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“What are you doing?” you ask, unzipping your jeans and slipping out of them. “I’m not doing this for free. Also, I thought you wanted me and my bouncy tits to ride you?” He blushes again at how nonchalantly you say this, but when you also rid yourself of your underwear, now standing completely naked in front of your roommate, he merely gapes at you in disbelief. 

“Get naked,” you prompt. “Or are you telling me you’re gonna miss out on this chance?” Jeno doesn’t think twice, and he hastily slips out of all his clothes as you watch him with a victorious smile on your lips. You let yourself marvel at his toned, well-trained body, and once he sits down on his bed completely naked, you crawl on top of him, pushing him back into the blanket by his shoulders. 

“Now, tell me again what you almost got yourself off to.” Again, he’s shooting daggers at your wicked grin and your words, but you can also see a certain thrill in his stare as he begins to talk.

“You… on top of me… like right now,” he begins to explain reluctantly as you run your hands down his chest and abs. However, the more your palms roam his body, the more confident he becomes. “I was thinking about you riding me… my hands on your hips, like this.” Jeno grabs your hips at once, giving them a squeeze, and then you allow him to guide them to his core. You roll them in his lap once, and you feel your folds grazing his hardening length.

“You’re already getting hard again just at the thought of it?”

“Aren’t you getting wet at the thought too?” he challenges you, and you can’t exactly deny it. Not when you feel the heat rushing to your core so clearly.

“So? What’s next?” You ignore his attempt at teasing you, and instead you keep rocking your hips, feeling him grow against your slick pussy. He sighs at the friction, and you raise an eyebrow, throwing in, “My boobs?”

“Y-yes…” he answers, and suddenly his stare is glued to your chest. He brings one hand up to squeeze your right tit, and you moan at his touch. It fits into his hand just perfectly, and you too find yourself throwing your head back at the way he gropes you. 

“You’re so perverted…” you hum, and then you lift your hips off him for a second. Aligning yourself with his full grown length, you prepare yourself to take him in. And then you let yourself glide down on him, taking in just the tip to tease him, but in that same moment you can clearly feel just the tip isn’t enough for you either.

“Fuck…” you mutter under your breath, hands propped up on his chest.

“Well, you’re the one currently having sex with that perv, so…” Jeno comments. You come back up, having him slide all the way out, before lowering yourself onto him again. You repeat that process a few times, each time taking him in a little deeper, until eventually you both run out of patience, and he takes control with both hands back on your hips. Guiding you all the way down, you gasp at the way he stretches you out, and Jeno gives you a few seconds to adjust to his size. And then, you begin to bounce on top of him, and you find his lustful eyes fixated on your breasts.

“Perv,” you mutter, but that only seems to turn him on more. 

“You’re enjoying it,” he throws back, and you can only moan in response.

“Maybe…” But who could blame you, when he feels so good inside you, and when his hips meet you so perfectly every time you sink down onto him. You feel him pressing his thumb against your clit, and it causes you to groan, becoming more eager in your movements.

“You gonna get off on that perv’s cock, huh?” Jeno teases you, directing his full focus on pleasing you. You whine in response, feeling your high approaching at light speed. Something about this situation makes you unbelievably horny, but you currently don’t have the means to figure out what exactly that is. Instead, you focus on moving your hips in just the right way to maximize your own pleasure.

“Fuck, Y/N… you feel so good…” You moan in appreciation, and through a string of curses falling from your lips, your high crashes down on you. You feel yourself clench around his cock, and your thighs tremble as you keep rocking your hips even past your orgasm. You bring Jeno’s hands up to your boobs, letting him squeeze and play with them as he pleases while an expression of utter bliss appears on his face. 

“Mmhh… this is even better… than I imagined…” he groans through gritted teeth, and now you feel heat rushing to your cheeks as well because of his boldness. You feel him twitch inside you as your hips keep bouncing on top of him, and then eventually he shuts his eyes tightly and grunts your names as he cums inside you.

You crawl off him, knees still shaky, but you do your best not to let him notice. Then, you collect your clothes, tucking them under your arm.

“I’m going shower,” you inform your roommate, who’s following your every move with his eyes. You can tell he’s unsure what to say, and you’re at least as speechless as he is about what you just did, but you’re a bit better at seeming unbothered. You walk out of the room, and just as you’re right in the doorframe, he calls out to you to make you halt.

“We should do that again sometime,” Jeno blurts out, and you fail to suppress a dirty grin.

“Maybe,” you say. “If I catch you getting off to me again I’ll think about it.” You throw him a wink, and before you can fully register the smirk on his face that’s supposed to tell you he’s accepted your challenge, you leave the room for a nice and hot shower.

[ficjoelispunk]

TIPSY’S GIRL

"Say yes to heaven,

Say yes to me.

I've got my eye on you."

Summary: Sometimes everything you want is right under your nose. All you need is a little push.

Word count: 7.4k

Warnings: just a love story, happy without anguish, thank God.

Oneshot

A/N: As everyone is already tired of reading in my notes, this is another translated Oneshot. I hope I don’t disappoint so much with English. Please don’t give up on me.🙏

-

"Good night, Joel"

You said as you passed by for the thousandth time, a damp cloth through the counter.

"Good night"

It was visibly noticeable that only his carcass was present there. Deep and tired eyes, hair with curls slightly - perfectly - messy.

"You look tired, a lot of movement outside?" You asked with a gentle smile on your lips.

Joel leaned over the - now, clean - counter.

"Yeah…" he hummed, "with the winter many hordes of them move in search of warmer places"

You were pouring an shot of whiskey into the glass. You didn't need to ask, Joel always came to Tipsy after long patrols, sat in the same place since you remember, and drank exactly the same thing, every time.

"Smart Creatures..."

He smiled with your comment.

"Since I arrived in Jackson, I've never left these walls again" you handed the glass to him "we used to do walks, picnics, hiking, all the fucking weekend..." your eyes were stuck in the wood of the counter, several images taking over your mind, like flashbacks, "I miss nature" you snapped your tongue "well, I'll let you rest" your hands patted the counter "enjoy" you smiled.

Joel raised the glass towards him.

"Thanks"

***

Tiredness took over Joel's old and worn-out body. It had been three long days of patrol. Sleeping outside was becoming a big nightmare for the back. He just wanted to get home, take a long shower and rest.

He just needed a drink first. It was what he repeated to himself, as if, the fact of repeating this to himself sometimes enough, was capable of deceiving his own brain.

The truth is, he started attending Tipsy more for a single reason. You.

A woman with such a beautiful smile, that if the light of the world ran out, your smile could certainly illuminate the planet without a shadow of a doubt. Your lips filled the contour of your smile so perfectly. Your soft skin. The curves of your body. You are so beautiful. Kind. Polite.

Every time he’s close to you, his nerve endings fall asloment. He's afraid to say something wrong. He’s afraid you'll misunderstand him. Whenever he thinks about the possibility of having you, touching your skin, your lips, your body... he drives away the desire. He's not worthy. The things he's already done. It didn't seem right that the same hands that kill could be able to touch you correctly. You deserved more.

Too old for that kind of thing. So, all that was left was for him to observe her. At least from afar he couldn't lose you.

"If you keep looking at her like this, you'll make a hole in her skin," Tommy whispered to his brother, squeezing his shoulders.

"Shut up, Tommy"

"Seriously, you're a man, Joel. Call her out, it's not a big deal"

Joel just stared at his brother.

"C’mon man… She looks at you too... you're a nice guy"

"She's just being polite. Very kind to just kicking me out from this place"

"No other man would be good enough for her here, and you know that, if you continue with this shit, you'll end up having to watch any asshole take her home..."

Tommy shakes his head while waiting for you to come and serve him too.

***

Working at Tipsy was a quiet thing, most of the time. There were few nights that you had to put up with someone who ended up drinking too much, and inflating the courage to say things to you that would be at least impolite. But overall, it was something quiet. Decreased the feeling of loneliness - which you had also been used to dealing with - the end of the world does not provide healthy experiences, and keeping mental health in line is a daily exercise.

You had just left the library, selected another book - which you knew you would read in a maximum of three days - the plan was to sit on your old couch, cover your legs with the wool blanket you had knitted, and keep next to a good herbal tea that you had harvested in your garden in the morning.

The cold this afternoon was more severe, you walked looking for the sun, to warm it up, thinking about removing your heavier coats from the closet.

"Hey!"

The known and panting voice had just rested a soft hand on your shoulder.

"Hey! Maria, how you doing?"

"I’m fine. You? Did I get in the way of your thoughts? You were closed in your private world"

You smiled.

"I'm fine, thank you. I was making a mental note to remove the married people from the closet, it seems that we will have a merciless winter this year"

She nodded.

"Do you work tonight?"

"Not really, today is my day off. Do you need help with anything?"

"Yeah, I do. I was wondering if you could help me with the recipe for that Arabic salad you make, I've tried it a thousand times and I don't get it... Tommy will get sick if he doesn't eat this salad..."

You smiled.

"Yeah, shore. Tonight?"

"If you don't care..."

"No, of course not. At 6 p.m.?"

"Sounds great! I'll wait for you."

You nodded.

“See you there”

Maria has always been an amazing woman since you arrived in Jackson. She and Tommy welcomed you in the best way, with patience and care. As much as your plans were to stretch your legs up, you could never say no to this couple to whom you owe so much. If you were in a safe place today, it was because they had provided you with it. You know that Jackson is the closest to life you once had, and no matter how much it was a long way of pain and suffering, living was still an act of courage, which you were proud of day after day for having the courage to choose to live.

Tommy welcomed you with a smile on his face.

"Maria is making the baby sleep, can I help with anything?" He said as they walked to the kitchen.

You took a look at him, smiling.

“What? I'm a great co-pilot in the kitchen"

You raised your arms.

"I didn't say anything"

You laughed. Tommy taught you how to navigate the kitchen, left the ingredients at your disposal, while killing time talking. He was a very communicative man. It was no wonder that the community respected him, he was able to maintain order and protected about 300 people. Only someone articulate enough was able to keep the nerves of 300 people under control.

You were teaching how he should cut the tomato, when he got distracted looking behind you.

"Look at you man, did you take a shower!? Well, thankfully, because definitely Joel is more skilled than me in the kitchen"

You turned around smiling, Joel was... just Joel, a man whose presence did not have any explanation. He was a little older than you, a crease always demarcating the forehead, fierce eyebrows, outlined face, beard covering the face, perfectly messy hair, demarcated jaw. He had all the characteristics of a man, masculine, strong with a striking presence.

He wasn't a talker, few times you have the pleasure of seeing him smile, always worried, nervous or too tired, you had the feeling that he not had a good night's sleep for decades. The tension he carried on himself was something so poor that sometimes you have already found yourself wondering if you would be able to relieve the lines of insistent expressions that he carried on his face. If you would be able to make him feel relaxed, calm and serene.

But, although you could also swear to see him several times - a considerable amount - looking at you, every time - also a considerable amount - that you tried to pierce his shell, he always pushed you, gently and respectfully, away.

Today, however, you had never seen so many expressions passing through Joel's face at the same time. Surprise, nervousness, hesitation... he seemed paralyzed since he entered the kitchen.

"Hi" you said, your voice seeming to pull you into the world again.

He blinked.

"I'll see if Maria needs help" Tommy walked to her brother "can you help her?"

He stared at his brother, still motionless, but nodded. He slowly approached you.

"Are the tomatoes giving you trouble?" He asked pointing out where Tommy left the job in half.

You smiled.

He reached the cutting board with the knife to continue.

"You don't have to, I can..."

"I'll help you"

He looked at you so deeply, the luminosity of the house was dim, you have never been like this side by side, always separated by a counter, or far enough away to just greet each other with a nod. You had to look away, focusing on the cucumbers you were cutting.

He followed the cutting pattern you set to Tommy, and clearly more skilled, in fact. The big arms holding the small fruit, in such a subtle way, contrasting with the big hands and long fingers. The movements outlining the muscles over the tissue of your flannel. Hypnotizing your eyes with every movement.

"Am I doing something wrong?"

You almost got scared, when you heard him, too concentrated in that man's hands, making it difficult to take care of policing yourself so that he didn't realize that you had your eyes fixed on his movements. It was only then that you realized that you were biting your lips. You cleared your throat.

"No" you shook your head, trying to clear your mind, returning to focus on the cucumbers "no, you’re natural, like a Cheff. I didn't know you were a good cook"

He snapped his lips. A crooked smile crossed his lips.

"I have some skills"

You smiled.

"How does it feel to be on the other side of the counter?"

He shrugged, and looked at you again.

"At this moment, I feel better than ever"

You was fully aware of the heat that invaded your face, and burned in your stomach. You couldn't say many other things.

Joel stayed by the side until the end of the salad preparation, reaching all the materials you needed. Sometimes your arm or hand ended up brushing Joel's skin and body. Your body was so tense that it seemed difficult to breathe. The air was a little thick and the kitchen seemed very small.

Maria and Tommy came back for a while - which seemed very long - later. Maria prepared a meat, removing it from the oven as soon as you had just prepared the salad. You dined to the sound of maternity reports. Raising a baby was not easy, and raising a baby in this world was twice as difficult. Although Maria and Tommy had been blessed with a calm and healthy baby, a child who slept all night, and was quite calm during the day.

Maria served you a wine that someone from the commune had produced, with natural fermentation with grapes produced there inside Jackson itself. Tommy helped Maria organize the dinnerware, while you and Joel were sitting outside the house, in upholstered chairs that Tommy and Joel had made before last winter.

You hugged your knee, holding the glass with the wine, in the hope that the liquid would make its due effect and warm your body.

"Are you cold?" It was the first thing he said after cutting the tomatoes.

It was surprising that, although immersed in a silence, there was nothing uncomfortable to be next to him and to be silent.

You sighed.

"I haven't taken the coats out of the closet yet..."

Joel got up, covering your back with his jacket. You closed your eyes with the feeling of warmth around your body. He was hot. Your hands pulled the fabric to cover more of your body, which made you think how small you were close to him, the jacket could easily become a blanket.

"Better?" He was sitting in front of you.

You nodded.

"Thank you"

Your cheeks pressed your shoulder. The smell of him invading your senses. You were warmed by the heat that radiated from his jacket. And it was numb by the smell that the fabric exhaled. So comfortable. So cozy.

When you had finished the wine. Your eyes blinked lazy, it was time to leave.

You got up, unrolling yourself from your jacket.

"Time to go" you leaned over to deliver the jacket to Joel, but he also raised "Maria, Tommy, always a pleasure to spend time with you guys"

"There is no possibility of eating this salad if it is not made by you," Tommy said, hugging Maria.

You smiled.

"Always available, for you. Maria, give a kiss in that little one for me"

"Of course! Thank you for dinner, it was delicious"

She leaned over to hug you.

You were still holding Joel's jacket. You was going to say goodbye to him, but he was faster than you.

"I'll follow you to your home"

"You don't have to..."

"I make a point, I'll also take advantage of the ride and go home"

You nodded. He said goodbye to his sister-in-law and brother. Walking next to you to the exit of the house. Once they were walking through Jackson's deserted streets, he pulled the jacket from your arms, stretching it on your back again.

"It's cold, you can get pneumonia and die"

You smiled, making a face.

"So dramatic"

He was close enough to bump into your arm, with every step you took, his hands in the front pockets of the jeans. Slow steps. Your house was not far away, but the path seemed to drag under your feet.

"I'll stay here" you stopped in front of the stairs on your balcony.

You was going to start sliding the jacket.

"No, stay with her" Joel said.

"No, I'm going in and I'll be safe and warm. You still have the way home" your hands stretched the jacket for him "I don't want you to get pneumonia and die" you smiled and rolled your eyes.

His big hands held the jacket, brushing your hands. Even with his jacket, your hands were cold, the warmth of his touch could easily melt your skin. He was so warm. You two faced the place where your skins were. His thumb stroked your hand.

Your body was taken by an anticipation, an anxiety was making room in your stomach and it was as if you were getting hollow inside, burning the cells of the body.

Joel took a step towards you, shortening your distance. He was dangerously close to you. Your face were tingling.

His free hand rose slowly towards your face, as if he were giving you time to scold him. But you didn't. He touched your face. You stared at each other painfully, his warm fingers slid down the side of your face, and from your neck, moving your hair away from behind your shoulder.

He took another step, his eyes danced between your mouth and your eyes. He was leaning slowly, in your direction. His eyes holding your gaze. His hand holding your head. His nose touched yours.

"Tell me, if I do something you don't want" he murmured, close to your lips.

You nodded, your noses sliding on each other. Your head tilted to the opposite side of his head. Joel pressed his lips on yours, hesitant, kind. Moving away millimeters, bringing his body closer to yours, and pressing his lips on yours again. Longer.

You felt the softness of his belly, his firm breasts. You slowly opened your mouth to him, his tongue slid down your lip until he found yours. He tasted like the wine you had. You sighed.

Joel threw his jacket on the floor, his hand slipped down your waist and then down your back, pulling your body to him. One of your hands slid down his waist, grabbing his shirt. The other got entangled in his hair, your fingers in the middle of the messy curls.

The kiss became more and more intense, your breaths were heavy, your body was glued to his hot body, his heat taking over all your senses.

His lips separated from yours, his foreheads were united, Joel joined your lips in a long kiss, moving away again, you smiled. Still hugging. He moved far enough to find your eyes, running his fingers through the length of your hair.

"Do you want to come in?" You asked, almost pleading.

Joel brought your head to his lips, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"I should go home, sweetheart" his lips brushed the top of your head.

You were numb, your face practically glued to his chest, his smell, his body. His eyes were closed trying to record the maximum of this sensation.

"Okay..." you murmured.

"But can I see you tomorrow?" He asked, holding you against him.

You got just far enough away to look at him.

He smiled.

"I wanted to take you to a place"

You smiled, unable to prevent your lips from arching in happiness.

"Is it a date, Joel Miller?" You bit your lips.

His hands went up to hold your face.

"Yeah... would you grant me the honor of your company on a tour?" The thumbs of his hands caressed your face.

Your arms were around his waist. You pretended to think, pouting in the corner of your mouth.

"Yes, I would grant..." you ended up finishing.

He pulled you for a hug, caressing your back.

"Good! I was already thinking about how to persuade you"

You laughed, - as if it were necessary - you took advantage of the warmth of his arms for another moment, until you walked away, reluctant - it didn't seem that neither of you were happy to let go - taking a few steps back, until you climb your stairs.

"See you tomorrow morning" Joel said as he took his jacket from the floor, and took slow steps back.

He waited for you to enter the house.

-

It was difficult to contain the outbreak your body exhaled. You were feeling like a fucking teenager. Since the first time you saw Joel, your pupil has dilated. He was a man who drew attention, the kind of guy you wanted to wrap you in his strong arms, the kind of guy who made you fantasize about things. The way he walks. The way he speaks. Always looking so distant and mysterious, but shy and gentleman.

You noticed his looks at you. But he seemed so distant, he seemed to be so involved in this end-of-the-world thing, so hurt by the pain that, obviously, everyone went through that, it didn't make sense for you to fantasize something, it seemed unlikely that he was willing to be distracted to the point of risking having feelings for someone.

People always commented on him. When people can't pierce someone's bubble, when they can't explain their questions, they always end up attacking. There have always been buzz about how cruel and merciless man Joel is. About the things he was able to do, because he had already done.

But with you he has always been kind and respectful, up to this point, this is a matter of education, only. However, you knew hundreds of people who were very good and not even if you wanted education could sustain for a long time, depending on the scenario.

There were, of course, many women who were sentimentally frustrated with him. Joel wasn't really in the mood. Beautiful, strong and intelligent women, fragile and petty women, he was the kind of guy who made any woman's type. That, for sure, also raised a lot of gossip.

Working at Tipsy was something that made you, whether you like it or not, end up listening, seeing and being a victim, of all kinds of things, even more so in a bunch of people, in which everyone knows everyone, and, unfortunately, everyone is busy with everyone's life.

Little by little you learned to filter the things that reached your ears. And, anyway, for you, Joel has always been a respectful man, above all. Your mind was clear and aligned with the possibility that he was someone difficult before Jackson, but who wouldn't be? There are things that could be justifiable, and there are things that perhaps, were not justifiable, maybe not necessary. But the moment wasn't the best either. Extreme moments, sometimes they ask for extreme attitudes. Anyway, it didn't make much difference to you.

What made a difference was that he was a kind man, he was never rude, not even when someone was being inconvenient. It was never disrespectful, not even when he drank too much. He was always willing and available to the people - which he certainly knew - spoke of him behind his back. And, what caught his attention the most, he was always protective, careful and loving with his daughter, Ellie.

It wasn't easy to raise a teenager before, you knew, now it should probably be terrifying. Even so, he kept himself patient, eyes always attentive and full of tenderness, ready for any sign that Ellie could think of giving. Always ready for her. That was one of the things that moved your heart the most. It was visibly noticeable that he would cut without blinking a limb for this girl. This kind of love was something you appreciated.

Joel knocked on your door, shortly after the sun settled in the sky. The morning was cold, there was a considerably dense fog hovering over Jackson's streets. The snow would not take long to start giving its first signs. The thermometers already marked low enough temperatures to roll up scarves and wear three layers of blouse, and maybe a cap, if you wanted to increase the look.

"Hi," you smiled at him.

"Morning, sweetheart" he leaned hesitantly towards you.

Your feet forced themselves to stay at the ends, in an attempt to reach him halfway. Joel pressed his lips on yours, time-consuming, needy. You smiled, he slowly walked away, you climbed up your body to give another quick kiss.

"Ready?"

You nodded.

"I hope so, should I bring something?" Your eyes catch the backpack on his back.

He shakes his head.

"No, don’t worry, I have everything we need"

You nod, closing the door behind you.

***

Anxiety has always been something that tormented Joel's head. Before he thought too much for fear of not being a good father to Sarah. Then he blamed himself for Sarah's mother having left, and how it would affect Sarah's life. And then came the concerns about how he would solve life and be able to provide a good future for Sarah. Oh, how painful it was to think about the future and Sarah.

There was a moment when anxiety and sadness entangled so much in his mind that there was only room for these two feelings. Apart from, of course, the responsibility of keeping Tommy well, alive and safe.

Of course, things got better when Ellie arrived. There was the time when the fear of losing her consumed him. Now she was big enough to push him away, to make the decisions by herself. Even so, she will always be a good child, and he loves her unconditionally, he will always be there for when she needs it. There was the anxiety and the worry of keeping her safe. There would always be. But he knew Jackson was safe. He himself made sure to keep Jackson safe for her.

But now for the first time in a long time, the anxiety he felt was whether he would find you on Tipsy, if he would know how to answer your questions well enough that you didn't think he was an idiot. He felt the anxiety of, needing to contain himself, of needing to control the desire to touch you. Or one day you end up knowing that you finally found someone to be. He needed to control the impulses to drive away the men who flirted with you. To observe the malicious eyes that lingered on you. Joel could read the guys' minds as if their fucking brains were on a big screen. And just that, it was enough for him to long for just an opportunity to punch these men in the face.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt like this, about someone else. He dreamed of you. He was nervous about the idea of meeting you. He liked your voice, your smile, the way you moved, the sweet way you looked at him. Your hair... he knew that if he approached you, he would be at risk of wanting you for him, for the rest of his life.

Tommy invited him to dinner, without telling him that you would be there. He knew the moment he saw you, that Tommy was pushing him. And he can't blame him. Tommy knew him as well as he could know himself. Joel saw you arrive, he saw you settle down, he saw you building friendships, he saw you wisely dealing with people, he saw you being simply you, as if the fucking world was not over, and you had managed to stay perfectly good.

At all times, he can't take his eyes off you. He vividly remembers the day you met him - because, he already knew you - the soft and basically sacred skin of your hands gently shook Joel's hands. Your big Corsican eyes, slightly closed when your lips drawn by God's own hands, opened in the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

And then he was there, holding your body against his, your mouth merging with his. Your heavy breathing, as inviting as he could imagine, was difficult to hold the impulse of wanting to drag you to his bed, immediately undressing your body, and warm it up with his body on yours. Finally being able to feel the taste and flesh of your lips. Your smell and the small sounds you made when he pulled your body closer to his.

He had found the passage to paradise.

Now he could only be anxious to be good enough for you, good enough to have it, and enough to keep it.

You were beautiful in the morning, properly wrapped up, which was good, you were a little cold person, he had already noticed. Maybe it was because you were a small woman, the wind overtook you easily. He smiled with the thought.

Joel bends his arm next to your body, so that you could hold his arms. You hooked yourself next to him, leaning your cheeks against his arm for a moment. It was deliciously satisfying to feel you snuggling next to his body.

"It's cold today" you speak rubbing a hand on his arm, in an attempt to warm your fingers with the friction.

Joel puts his hand on your own, which firmly hold him, feels you shudder little by little.

"It will snow soon” he watched the sky, and then you.

"What are you taking me to, Joel Miller?"

He smiles.

"You'll like it, trust me"

You two walked towards the stables. Joel had already left Callus prepared for you.

"Are we going to ride a horse?" You ask, your voice seemed curious but hesitant.

"Are you nervous?"

You shook your head. But your eyes said something else.

Joel finishes checking the sadle buckles, and walks up to you. He slides a lock of your hair behind your shoulders.

"Do you trust me?" He asks.

Your deer eyes force him to get a little closer to you.

"Yes, I trust you"

Joel kisses your forehead, holding your hand, to lead you to the horse.

***

How to explain how difficult it was to trust someone these days? You trusted Joel, he was a man to whom you naturally transmitted security. But it was impossible to avoid the butterflies dancing in your stomach.

He helped you get on the horse. Your arms around his waist, as he led you out of the gates.

"Joel?" You couldn't stand it.

"Mhmm?"

"Where are you taking me to?"

"Isn't you a fan of surprises?"

You laughed. Feeling unfair to him, whatever it was, it seemed unfair to steal whatever he took the trouble to plan. So used to always having everything under your control, knowing very well where you are stepping, what to do and when to do it, you was not used to not having control. Trusting without knowing what to expect.

"I'd like to show you a place, just it"

You smiled. It was almost as if you hadn't stopped smiling since the night before.

"All right, sorry”

You two rode for a long time, but it wasn't boring at all. You couldn't remember the last time you left Jackson. It could be a fantasy of your head, but the air looked different outside, everything was so much more alive. Nature was something imperial, only it had a place outside. The burning orange colors of the leaves of the trees with winter coming, the almost dead landscape had a melancholic beauty. The silence, only the horse's paws, you and nature. Joel stopped Callus on the slope of a mountain.

It helped you go down, holding your waist, sticking you to the floor.

"Let's walk a little now, okay?"

"Yeah, sure"

He held your hand.

"You said you liked hiking, that you missed nature..." he looked at you "I thought it would be a walk you would like."

Your heart almost jumped. You said a lot of things to Joel when he passed by Tipsy, but you could swear that he was just nodding out of politeness, it didn't seem like he was absorbing the information, keeping your words to himself. That was very cute.

The trail went up the mountain, and at no time did he let go of your hand. He said that he had already come here with Ellie, - which was very sweet, you understood that it was an important place for him - you talked about trivial things in life before the outbreak. You already knew some things, such as, for example, he and Tommy worked with construction companies, contractors, things like that. It was a surprise for him, when you say that you was a biologist.

"Fancy..."

You shook your head.

"It's not like this profession is very useful now, you know. Builders are much more fancy."

He smiled.

You said that you did a lot of field work, research and always ended up in the middle of the woods, these experiences were what ended up helping you survive in the first years of the outbreak.

Being walking around there, next to Joel, the strongest of him holding yours, surrounded by nature, one of the places where you felt most comfortable, filled your senses with peace and calm.

There was a patrol post in the middle of the way, Joel passed by, he didn't take long, he just removed a guitar from somewhere very well kept there.

"I'll leave it here for when we're going to do longer patrols..." he explained as he slides his hand through the instrument.

"I didn't know you played..."

"You will find out why, of almost no one having the joy of knowing," he said ironically.

You laughed.

When you reached the top, you had to hold back the urge to cry. Joel let go of your hand, watching you take small steps, looking at the view in front of you. You've been to beautiful places before, but being there, with the world in that scenario, next to a man who thought about the fact how much you would like something like that, was simply indescribable. Such an affectionate gesture on his part.

Your hands covered your mouth. You looked at him with teary eyes. The view was stunningly beautiful, exciting. The mountains in the background. The green, the trees. The sky. Him. Everything was perfect.

"Did you like it?" He asked quietly as he approached you.

"Joel..." you looked back at the landscape that looked millimetrically hand-painted "it's perfect... I loved it, this place is amazing"

He smiled, hugged you from behind, resting his chin on your head, his arms around you. You stayed there for a while. The cold wind cut you, a painfully pleasant feeling of knowing that you were closer to the sky.

Joel opened his backpack, extending a blanket on the floor, removing fruit, water, and a bottle of tea. You sat down, Joel leaning against a trunk of a tree, you in the middle of his legs, resting on his breasts, his hands on yours, separating just to reach some drink, or some fruit, your fingers intertwined stroking each other's hand.

He played the guitar for you. This man's voice is a threat to your heart.

"I wanted to be a singer when I was younger"

"You would have been a star. Women would go crazy"

He laughed.

“You are such good lier”

You tried to convince him that he was really good at that. But he was a modest man, and too shy to receive so many compliments.

The silence was comfortable too, you had a book in your hand, feeling the sun on your skin, the birds flying in the sky. Joel was also reading.

"Joel?" You tilted your head back, leaning against his chest, to look at him.

"Mhmm?"

"Did you plan all this?"

He nodded behind you.

"You simply, you just eliminated any kind of competition, you know that, right? After today, it will simply be impossible for anyone to surpass you"

He sighed a smile.

"When you told me you missed nature, this was one of the first places that came to my mind.”

“Thank you, I really liked it”

“Yeah… I just didn't imagine that I would have the opportunity to one day bring you here"

You turned to look at him.

"Why?"

He seemed to be embarrassed.

"I didn't think you would give me a chance"

You settled to face him.

"What do you mean?"

He looked away, looking beyond you, at the landscape. He seemed afraid to say the words. One of his hands that were at your waist, reached a small and thin branch on the floor to distract his attention.

"Did you really think I was going to Tipsy just to drink that damn whiskey that Seth serves?"

You kept analyzing his face. Without answering.

"Tommy and I got better whiskeys when we went on patrol" he threw the branch on the floor, looked at you again "I'm going to Tipsy because I wanted to see you"

It took you a while to process the information.

"Joel..."

"I wanted to spend time with you, but look at you..."

You frowned.

"I never imagined that a woman like you would waste some time with a man like me, and... besides, I didn't want to bother you"

You tilted your head, your hands held his face, affectionately directing his gaze to you.

"Joel, what could a woman like me want, if not a man like you?"

He smiled, embarrassed and tried to divert his face from his touch.

"Look at me," you said, holding his face again, "you are a kind, generous, polite, respectful, honest man, I would waste any time with you"

His eyes seemed painful, as if your words were being stuck in his skin, as if he were being forced to believe your words, as if he himself was not able to recognize the man he was.

You caressed his rebellious hair, approaching him, to kiss him, soft and gentle in the beginning. But this was gradually being replaced by a needy pain, when his hand went up to your neck, the other fixing your legs so that you were on his lap, putting your legs around his hip, your arms leaned on his wide shoulders, he pulled you close, his hand sliding through the hem of your blouses, letting some fingers brush your skin. You moaned in his mouth, your skin shivering, his tongue plunged into you, making you press yourself against him, putting your body stuck to his, his hands went down to your hip, but his fingers squeezed the flesh of your ass. You were about to start moving your hips in search of relief when he walked away from you panting.

His forehead stuck to yours. You smiled.

"Sweetheart” he said “Maybe we should go back..."

"Yeah, it seems like a good idea"

You made a slight cuddle on his hair, he pressed some quick kisses on your lips, before you got up, put things away, and made the trail back.

The way back to Jackson was faster. Joel left Callus in the stables, it was almost incredible that you spent almost the whole day together, it was almost the end of the afternoon when you were making their way back to your house. You still had to work at night. Everyone who passed by you two, delayed their eyes, your eyes caught some women whispering among them. You pretended not to see it.

You were almost in front of your house.

"I hope I didn't make you tired, you still work tonight, right?"

"That’s right, but I'm not tired, it was basically like recharging the energies"

He smiled.

You were about to climb the stairs from your balcony. He held your hand.

"Can I see you tonight?" He looked at you looking for any kind of approval on your face.

"Joel, you can see me whenever you want"

He seemed satisfied.

"But you can come in if you want. I still have some time, until I start my shift"

You held his hand harder. Almost as if he had no choice but to accept. He nodded. You went up the stairs, opening the door, pulling him behind you.

As soon as you were inside your house, he pushed you against the door. Kissing you, slipping his tongue inside your mouth, he put his knee in the middle of your leg, causing a perfect pressure for the friction you needed from the heated kiss you gave on the mountain, you shook your hip, he moaned in your mouth. His cock was already hard and arching.

Going down kisses down your jaw, your fingers pulling his hair.

"I won't be able to wait until after work for this," you murmured.

"I was hope not" he said in his skin.

He could feel your need by rubbing your hip on his leg. Fuck, he wanted to feel you, sink into you, he thought about it so much for so long, that it was the realization of a fucking dream, kiss your beautiful mouth and have your perfect body like that for him.

His hands slid up your ass, pulling your body to him, you moaned. Your hands pushed his coat to the ground, desperately unbuttoning his shirt.

He pulled you up, so that you were on his lap, your legs crossed his waist, his hands on your ass holding you.

"Where is the room, babe?" He asked panting.

"Third door on the left"

He walked with you in his arms, while you kissed messy, you pushed your coat to the floor along the corridor. Cursing the - now - exaggerated amount of clothes. Joel put you on the floor, helping you undo the buttons on his shirt. Pulling his blouses by his arms, you undoed his belt, the button of his pants, he pulled the last shirt he wore by his body.

God! He was beautiful, so hot. You kissed the firm skin of his chest, he pulled your last blouse by your arm, and almost whimpered when he saw your naked breasts for him - you were not a fan of bras - your nipple was hardened, your skin goosebumps.

“Fuck, you're more beautiful than I could imagine," he murmurs, pushing you to bed.

His hands deliciously squeeze the soft skin of your breasts, he goes down a path of kisses through your collarbone, slipping his lips through your skin, until he finds your nipple, he gently passes his tongue through him, while the other hand squeezed your other breast, your silky skin against his big, calloused and warm hands, his mouth closes over your nipple, sucking you there.

You can't contain the moan that rises from the bottom of your chest, arching with the feeling of his mouth on your body. He slides his mouth to the other chest, doing the same to him. Your hands get tangled in his hair.

He slides his lips down your belly, deposits a kiss just below your navel.

"Are you sure of that?" He pauses, looking at you.

“Yes, Joel”

He kisses your belly once again and pulls the jeans by the legs.

Your panties had a shamefully damp spot.

"Fuck, babe" he slid his finger over hot and wet fabric "are you needy for me all day?"

"From the moment you suggested leaving" you were panting. "You are a bad man"

He smiles.

"I'm going to reward you"

You smiled. Breathing stuttering.

Joel hooked his fingers pulling your panties, throwing somewhere lost on the floor, crawling to the middle of your legs. He put a leg on each shoulder, it took him a second to appreciate the image of your pussy in front of him, you felt his warm breath approaching you, until he pressed a kiss on your clit. Your breathing trembles with the sensation.

He ran his tongue painfully from wandering from your hole to your clitoris.

“Tastes so fucking good..."

You moaned and he sank his tongue in your heat, moaning too, without avoiding the good taste you had, his hand passed by you, reaching your clitoris, your back arching for him.

He was literally eating your pussy, devouring you while you moaned arching at his touch, you were dripping, more and more wet while his tongue worked on you in a way you didn't even know was possible. He sank a finger inside you, feeling you contract as he stretched you, your breathing getting more and more panting, your hands ran to his hair. He bent his finger inside you, making you choke on the perfect feeling, pressing your clit more, you arched and undone around it, with a strangled moan, pushing deeper into you. He smiled, as he felt your body collapsing with pleasure for him.

He dragged his lips through your body, the wet and shiny beard, you were out of breath. He separated just enough to look at you, your hands were around his face.

"You're still sure..."

You pulled his face to yourself, kissing him, tasting you on his tongue. Your hands went down to push his jeans. He got up to take off the rest of his pants and underwear.

And, it was almost impossible for your to get better, but you had, he had a gloriously perfect cock, leaking from his swollen, big and thick head.

He knelt in the middle of your legs, taking his hands in your middle gathering your wet, passing over his length. Joel lowered his cock so that his head was in your hot and wet entrance, lay down on you, his body warm and heavy.

"Tell me if it hurts, and we'll stop, ok?"

You nodded.

***

He rested his forehead on yours, closing his eyes trying to focus on something other than your soft and naked body for him, something other than your incredibly hot pussy in which he was about to sink.

You passed your hands through his hair.

He pressed the head of his cock, and only then your pussy already clung to him tight. He pushed slowly inside you, little by little, giving you time to get used to him, desperately trying to focus on anything else, but your hands slid down his back pulling him against you, it was amazing. God! You feel so damn good.

He knew, he imagined it would be amazing, you were equally amazing, your beauty, your skin, your smile, he did not contain the grunt you made when you felt your hips meet and know that it was totally inside you. You clung to it, squeezing it, so hot and soft. The volume of your breasts below it, your body. Your mouth. You licked his lips.

It had been a long time since Joel felt this way, you fell so good, the feeling was painfully too hot, he could never dream of something as good as you taking him totally, deep in your wet heat.

"Fuck" you gasped in his ears “you feel… oh my God”

He felt you, every part of you, every muscle contracting, the weight of your breathing, your arms moving as if you wanted to touch most of it you could.

“I know, sweetheart” he kissed you while he was deep inside you. Starting to move, your hip moved to meet him, you moaned in his mouth “You taking me so well”

Joel was slow, he couldn't press too much, he would cum too fast. He took his time, savoring every part of you, every kiss, and every movement he made, listening to the beautiful sounds you exhaled through him.

When his cock was painfully tight on you, he moved faster, more urgent, your fingers stuck in his skin, your legs intertwined his back, he knew you wouldn't last much longer, your walls squeezing around his cock. Your breathing stuttering.

"I won't last much longer..." he murmured on your shoulders "where...?"

"Inside me..."

He growled. While fucking you harder, faster, sinking deep inside you, your body faltered, with involuntary spasms, Joel held your body against his.

"Fuck, that’s it, cum for me" he said, feeling your walls pulsing around him “c’mon babe, that’s it”

He can't stand it, falling apart inside your heat, pulsing inside you. Your hands pressed his back causing him to somehow sink deeper into you. He moaned on your shoulder, feeling his fucking leaking from you, through his balls, on your leg.

His body collapsed on top of you, you kissed his shoulder, his neck. After his breaths stabilized, he raised his head to kiss you, soft, affectionate. He moved so you could lie down and bring you to lie on his chest.

"You're amazing" he said, moving your hair away from your back.

"And, you wouldn't ask me out, like, never"

He smiled.

"I think you need to reward me for lost time"

He looked at you. Smiling satisfied.

"I can start with today, after your work"

You snapped your eyes, you were going to get up quickly, but he held you.

"You can be a few minutes late"

You snuggled up on his skin.

“Sweetheart?”

“Mhmm?”

“When you said I eliminated all the competition, were you serious?”

You looked at him smiling.

“It’s not like there’s a line of men at the door of my house, but, yeah, I was serious, I mean, I’m not crazy not to take advantage of you”

He kissed the top of your head.

“You are a dangerous woman”

"Yeah?..." you bit your lips.

He pulled his leg to be on top of his.

"Yeah" He said quietly, knitting his eyebrows.

You kissed the skin of his chest, he slid his hands down your spine. Your arm grabbed his waist, his fingers caressed your arms.

“You’d better get ready, because if you’re willing, I intend to be the last man of your life”

Maybe you missed your work on this day.