#✦ ── you are the one who will open the door . ›› musings .

[covenofagatha]

I'm a good girl, Detective (Part 3)

Word count: ~2600

Warnings: pure filth, rough sex, strap-on, blowjob, oral, lots of degradation but also softness

A/N: the part 3 no one asked for lol, just wanted a little break from sugar mommy Agatha plot to write some rough sex but part 2 for that story should be up tomorrow. Hope you guys enjoy!

You can tell by the way that the door to the house slams open that your girlfriend has had a bad day. 

All you were doing was dusting off the countertop and arranging a vase of daisies in one of Agnes’s purple t-shirts when all of a sudden, a sound reverberated through the walls. 

Keys jangle loudly as they’re thrown into the key bowl by the entrance and footstops make their way into the kitchen. You look up and give your girlfriend, who is wearing an angry expression and the pants she always looks so good in, a cheerful smile. 

She doesn’t return it. Your lips drop into a frown. 

You moved in with Agnes only about a week after that fateful night when she had finally given into your flirting and fucked you. It had been a month since then, a month since you had stopped being a prostitute and instead stayed at home while Detective Agnes Harkness went off to work everyday. 

In that month, you had learned a lot about her: favorite foods, favorite movies, how to read her moods, how sometimes she wanted to come home and make out with you for hours with you on her lap, or sometimes she wanted you to eat her out, or she wanted to fuck you roughly in the bed you shared. It depended on how the workday had gone. 

But you’re not sure you’d ever seen her like this. 

She is steaming. She had at least never not smiled back at you. 

“Baby, you okay?” You ask tentatively. Agnes had walked straight past you and grabbed a bottle of beer. She scoffs and turns around to lean against the counter so she’s facing you. You’re distracted for a second by her finger tracing the rim of the bottle but you snap back to focus on her. 

“Work was awful,” she practically growls. “Everyone I work with is completely incompetent and Chief doesn’t give a fuck, just expects me to clean up everyone’s messes.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” you say and walk over to her. She raises an eyebrow at your proximity and you wrap your arms around her shoulders. She tenses for a moment and then the hand not holding her drink comes around you. The two of you stay like that for a beat before you ask “Is there anything I can do?” The words come out hotly muffled against her neck and you don’t miss the goosebumps that rise. 

“Hmm, that depends,” she muses thoughtfully. Confused, you pick your head out of the crook it was resting in and look at her. For the first time this evening, you see a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “Can you be a good toy and let me use you for some stress relief?” 

Dumbfounded (and immediately turned on), you nod eagerly. She cups your chin and tilts it up so she can see you better. 

“I need you to say it, doll.” 

“Fuck, please, Agnes, use me, want you to use me,” you plead frantically. All you need right now is her hands on you. 

Her eyes trace your face, looking for a hint of doubt or hesitation. When they find none, her hand slides down to your throat and she squeezes and drags your mouth to hers. She wastes no time sucking on your tongue and stealing your breath with the filthy and bruising kiss. You don’t even notice that she’s walking you backwards until you hit the wall and she slides a thigh between your legs. 

You’re already so wet – you always are, for you – so you start to grind. She breaks the kiss to lean back as much as she can and watch you move on her. Amusement is written on her face and she takes a sip of the drink still in her hand and then presses the bottle to your lips. 

Not breaking eye contact, she raises it and you open your mouth so the beer can slide down while your hips are still rubbing your cunt against her leg. It’s an act that isn’t sexual in nature, but turns you on even more just the same. You can almost feel the electricity in the air between you and she tips the bottle up even more. 

She laughs when you splutter on the drink and pulls you back in for another kiss. You whine into her mouth, needing more than just her thigh. 

And then her leg between yours is gone. You whimper before you can stop yourself at the loss of the stimulation. 

You’re still aching though. 

She walks back to put the beer bottle on the counter and then back to you, your heart rate climbing drastically. 

Before you can think, she grabs your bicep and whirls you around, shoving you against the wall. She grabs your wrists and holds them together. A moan escapes from your mouth at the roughness, which turns you on more than you thought it would. You hear her fumbling with something and then you feel cold metal click around your right wrist, and then your left. 

You gasp involuntarily. 

She handcuffed you. 

If you weren’t already dripping before, you certainly are now. 

Agnes soothingly runs a hand on your asscheek over your (her) shirt. And then she leans in, presses her body against yours, and you feel a hardness in her pants. 

Your brain short-circuits. 

She must realize you’ve caught on and she moves her hips up, grinding the toy against you. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, already dizzy with pleasure. 

“Do you remember the safe word? Because I’m going to be rough, baby,” she says right into your ear. 

You nod. “It’s ‘cake.’ Please, Agnes, want you to be rough, please use me.” You’re babbling now and you can feel her smiling against your skin. 

“Good girl,” she purrs and spins you back around. “Get on your knees.” 

The tile floor stings on your bare knees but you don’t even wince. You barely even notice it with how needy you are for her. What you do notice is the wet spot that is now on her navy pants from you rubbing yourself on her. 

“Such a desperate slut, aren’t you,” Agnes says fondly, clearly seeing it herself. 

“I am, for you,” you breathe and delight in the way her eyes darken more. 

Your mouth practically waters as she undoes her belt, button, and zipper. She doesn’t even take off her pants, just reaches in and pulls out the purple strap-on that’s come to be your favorite. You prefer it this way; it feels more dirty. 

“Were you wearing this the whole day?” You ask in awe, peering up at her just in time to watch her roll her eyes.

“Shut up and put your mouth to good use,” she snarls, hand fisting your hair and pushing you closer to the toy. 

As if you’d ever say no. You open your mouth and lightly suck on the tip. It’s weird not having the use of your hands to leverage yourself, but you’ll make do. You run your mouth up the length, not taking your eyes off Agnes, who has her head thrown back like she can feel it. You slowly engulf the toy, forcing your mouth further down, and you gag. 

“Such a good whore on her knees for me,” she groans, the hand in your hair urging you on. You can feel your saliva drooling out of your mouth as you move up and down on her, your jaw starting to hurt. “So fucking desperate for anything I give you. Such a perfect toy.” 

You made some garbled noises in agreement, never stopping your administrations. She puts her other hand on your head and starts thrusting hard, your raw throat screaming for air and tears in your eyes. However, you can hear the sounds the toy makes in your mouth and that coupled with Agnes’s moans has your underwear sticking to you and the inside of your thighs soaked. 

When it becomes too much, Agnes pulls out and you gasp for breath. She smears the strap all over your mouth and cheeks, making you more of a mess. She then clasps your cheeks and her thumbs wipe under your eyes, where you’re sure your mascara has started running. 

“Are you alright?” She murmurs. One thing that you love about Agnes is that no matter how rough she is with sex, she always checks on you and makes sure you know how much she adores you. How soft she can get is one of your favorite things about her. 

“I’m good,” you answer, voice hoarse but sincere. She seems to believe you because she hauls you up by the arm and over to the counter and shoves you down. She reaches down to move your underwear to the side and feel your pussy and chuckles meanly when she finds how ruined you are. 

“God, you’re so pathetic, aren’t you? Being on your knees for me makes you this wet, it’s embarrassing. You’re such a slut,” she sneers and slaps your ass. The impact makes you jump with a moan and your hands try and scramble to touch anything but they’re still handcuffed behind you. All you can do is whimper. “What do you want, doll?” 

You try to wiggle your hips against her hand but she pulls away and the air is cold on your cunt lips. “Want you, Aggie,” you mewl. You know what she wants to hear. “Want you to use me like the slut that I am, the slut I am only for you. Just your whore, just want you to fuck me like I need to be fucked.” 

“Good girl, princess,” she purrs and she shoves the toy inside you. You moan louder than you ever have at the stretch and your head drops to the countertop. Her hands grip your hips so hard you can’t wait to see the marks tomorrow. 

“Fuck, Aggie,” you pant and she sets a fast pace, spanking your ass every now and then. 

All you can do is make noises. You try to form words but your brain isn’t working. You get so in your head sometimes, but Agnes always has a way of making you let go. It works so well for both of you.

“God, such a good toy for me, letting me use you whenever I need,” Agnes says. “So desperate to please me, you’d do whatever I wanted, wouldn’t you?” 

You groan in response, the toy hitting every single right place inside you. It drags deliciously against your walls and she’s angling it just perfectly so every stroke has you wanting to scream. You feel so full, so good. 

She pushes the shirt you’re wearing up and begins leaving kisses and sucking marks into your back, never letting up on her bruising pace. 

“Fuck, baby, please, so close,” you say. You don’t think you could form a sentence if you tried. “So good, need more, wanna cum.” 

She reaches one hand around you and rubs your clit in tiny, little circles. You clench around the toy, even more bliss spreading through your body. You can feel the tension building in the cracks and crevices of your body and you know it’s about to snap. 

“Can I cum, please, Aggie, can I cum for you?” It has become an unspoken rule that you need her permission. 

“Cum all over my cock like the slut that you are,” she growls and it takes three more thrusts and a perfectly timed stroke of your clit and you completely come undone. Your gasps turn pitchy and high and you think you almost black out for a second. 

She doesn’t pull out right away when you finally crash back down and she peppers kisses all over your cheeks from behind. 

“How are you doing?” She checks and you smile adoringly and nuzzle your face against hers. 

“That was great, baby,” you say with complete honesty. You wince as she finally pulls out and then digs the key for the handcuffs out of her pockets. You flex your wrists when they’re finally off and she turns you around so she can hug you. 

“My beautiful girl,” she murmurs against your forehead. After staying like that for a few more minutes, just soaking each other in, you head up to the bedroom, stopping for a quick, soft make-out session on the stairs. 

“Do you feel better now, baby?” You ask once you’re both lying in bed, you wrapped in Agnes’s arms again. She had gotten you some new clothes and helped you put stuff on the marks on your wrists from the cuffs so they weren’t as painful tomorrow. 

“I do, doll. Thank you.” 

And then it strikes you that the older woman hasn’t cum yet. 

That won’t do. 

You wiggle out of Agnes’s grasp and make your way under the covers despite her protests and confusion. 

She quickly picks up what you’re trying to do when you tug at the sweatpants that she sleeps in. She raises her hips to help you move them and you let out a gasp when you see how absolutely wet she is. 

“You were going to go to sleep like this?” You say accusingly. She tangles a hand in your hair preemptively, feeling your breath against her mound. She’s so sensitive that her hips are already starting to buck. “What about relieving your stress?” 

“You were my stress release,” she answers through gritted teeth as you run your tongue up her, collecting her wetness. “Fuck, baby.”

You smirk against her and do it again. Agnes likes it slow and dragged out because you usually get her so turned on that it doesn’t take very long for her to cum. 

Her moans grow louder and more frequent as you keep doing what you’re doing, swirling your tongue around her clit and sucking and then dipping inside her pussy. Your hands rest on her thighs, occasionally digging in whenever she makes a noise or says something that turns you on again. 

“Yes, doll, just like that, that’s perfect,” she sighs, starting to ride your face. “Stick out your tongue and just let me grind against you. Let me take what I want.” 

So you do. Using her hands for leverage, Agnes drags her hips up and down your open mouth, picking up her pace. You can feel her about to cum and you moan against her pussy to help her get there. You know how sensitive she gets and you just want her to feel good. 

“Fuck, yes, baby, going to cum,” she says, her breathing becoming short and gaspy. All the tells are there and her voice breaks off as she finally cums all over your face. You lap at her through the aftershocks until she pulls you away after a few moments. She tugs you up by your hair into a long kiss. 

“Do you feel even better now?” You joke and she smiles fondly at you, moving a piece of hair out of your face. 

“I do, princess. You’re perfect.” 

Your nose wrinkles. “No, you are.” 

She chuckles lightly and kisses your lips and then your nose. “Come here, baby. Want to cuddle with you. You were so good for me today.” 

You happily snuggle into her side, content to stay that way forever.

[jmkjournalblog]

Sweet thing (Part 1)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2000+

Summary:  A new mysterious girl appears in the Westview, capturing Agatha's attention.

A/n: I couldn't forget this plot that came to me after watching AAA so, here we go. Btw English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Agatha Harkness leaned against her kitchen counter, nursing a cup of coffee as the morning sun painted the room in soft, golden hues. The house was quiet, save for the faint buzz of magic beneath her skin. It was always there now, a faint hum that had taken root since Wanda’s Hex wrapped itself around the town of Westview.

Agatha didn’t mind the quiet—she thrived in it. It gave her time to think, to observe, and, most importantly, to plan. The game Wanda was playing fascinated her, the raw chaos magic that maintained this picture-perfect suburban paradise a symphony only she seemed to hear. But Agatha wasn’t content to be a spectator.

Her musings were interrupted by a knock at the door, sharp and deliberate. Agatha frowned, setting down her mug. Few people in Westview came calling without reason. The nosy neighbors usually knocked too loudly, their voices pitched with exaggerated cheer. This knock was… tentative.

Agatha adjusted her cardigan and opened the door, her curiosity immediately piqued by the girl standing on her porch.

She was young, with an almost ethereal quality to her—a soft, doll-like beauty wrapped in a modest sundress and wide-brimmed hat. Her hands were clasped in front of her, clutching a basket of baked goods, and she looked up at Agatha with a shy, hesitant smile.

“Hi,” the girl said, her voice light and airy. “I’m Y/N. Wanda mentioned I should… introduce myself?”

Wanda. Of course.

Agatha smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, aren’t you the polite one?” she said, stepping aside to let the girl in. “Come on in, sweetie. Don’t just stand there looking like a lost kitten.”

Y/N giggled softly, the sound almost musical, and stepped inside. She looked around the living room with wide eyes, as though taking in every detail with nervous curiosity. Agatha followed her gaze, watching the way her fingers brushed the edge of a throw pillow, the faint catch in her breath as she noticed the clutter of books and trinkets on the coffee table.

“You’re new in town?” Agatha asked, her voice casual as she gestured for Y/N to sit.

Y/N perched on the edge of the couch, smoothing her dress over her knees. “Oh, yes,” she said quickly. “Very new. Wanda’s been so kind—helping me settle in, introducing me to everyone…”

Her voice trailed off, and she ducked her head, as if embarrassed by her own rambling. Agatha studied her, intrigued by the girl’s bashful demeanor. Wanda had mentioned her in passing—a "sweet little thing who could use a friend." But there was something about Y/N that didn’t quite fit the mold of Wanda’s usual creations.

“Wanda’s good at that,” Agatha said, her tone light. “She loves playing the perfect hostess. But don’t let her fool you—she’s got a bit of a wild side, that one.”

Y/N giggled again, her cheeks turning pink. “I don’t think I’ve seen that side of her yet.”

“Oh, stick around, honey. You will.”

Agatha leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other as she observed the girl with casual interest. There was something almost too perfect about Y/N—the way her smile wavered just enough to seem genuine, the slight tremor in her hands as she picked up the cup of tea Agatha had poured.

“So, what brings you to Westview?” Agatha asked, keeping her tone light.

Y/N hesitated, her gaze dropping to the cup in her hands. “I guess… I wanted a fresh start,” she said softly. “Somewhere quiet, where I could figure things out.”

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “And you picked Westview? Not exactly the first place people think of when they’re looking for a fresh start.”

Y/N’s lips quirked into a shy smile. “Wanda said it was… special. And it is. It feels… safe here.”

Safe. Agatha’s smirk widened, though she quickly hid it behind her cup. If only the girl knew the half of it.

“Well, you’re certainly in good hands with Wanda,” Agatha said, her voice warm and reassuring. “And the neighbors will eat you up. They love a sweet, innocent new face.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced up, her eyes meeting Agatha’s for the briefest moment before darting away again.

The girl’s shyness was endearing, almost painfully so. But Agatha had spent centuries honing her instincts, and something about Y/N didn’t quite add up. She didn’t press, though. Not yet.

Instead, she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she gave Y/N a conspiratorial smile. “Wanda matchmaking again, huh?”

Y/N’s blush deepened, and she shook her head quickly. “Oh, no! It’s not like that. She just thought I could… learn a thing or two from you.”

Agatha chuckled, her sharp eyes gleaming with amusement. “Is that so? Well, I suppose I can be quite the teacher when I want to be.”

Y/N’s laugh was soft, nervous, and she ducked her head again, hiding her face behind the rim of her teacup. Agatha watched her for a moment longer, the faintest prickle of curiosity tugging at her thoughts.

Whatever Y/N’s story was, it wasn’t as simple as she made it seem. But Agatha could wait.

“Welcome to Westview, sweetheart,” she said finally, her tone warm but laced with subtle intent. “Something tells me you’re going to fit in just fine.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes glinting with a fleeting emotion Agatha couldn’t quite place. For now, the girl was an enigma—a puzzle wrapped in sweetness and blushes. But Agatha would figure her out.

Agatha Harkness prided herself on reading people like open books, but Y/N was proving to be an unexpectedly complex chapter. The girl had a way of weaving herself seamlessly into Wanda’s narrative, her every action a perfect blend of naivety and charm. The neighbors adored her, each interaction reinforcing her role as the sweet newcomer.

Agatha wasn’t fooled, not entirely. There was something there, lurking beneath Y/N’s soft demeanor. Something that kept her watching.

The afternoon sun bathed Wanda’s backyard in golden light as she bustled about, her hands full of gardening tools. The scent of freshly clipped grass mingled with the sweet aroma of cookies baking in the oven. Agatha leaned against the fence, watching as Y/N knelt beside Wanda, carefully arranging a row of daisies in the freshly turned soil.

"You’re a natural at this!" Wanda exclaimed, her bright smile aimed at Y/N.

Y/N laughed softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "Oh, I don’t know about that," she said, her cheeks tinged with pink. "I’m just following your lead."

Agatha arched an eyebrow, sipping from the thermos of tea she’d brought over. The girl’s humility was textbook charming, her every move designed to blend in perfectly with Wanda’s carefully constructed suburban dream.

But there was more to it. Agatha could feel the faintest ripple in the Hex whenever Y/N was near. It wasn’t enough to break Wanda’s illusion, but it was there—a subtle distortion, like a melody slightly out of tune.

"Don’t sell yourself short, Y/N," Agatha called, her voice light and teasing. "You’ve got a knack for fitting right in, don’t you?"

Y/N looked up, her smile shy as she wiped her hands on her apron. "I just want to do my part," she said.

Wanda beamed at her, clearly pleased. "You’re more than doing your part," she said, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. "You’re already a part of this little family."

Agatha’s smirk softened, though her thoughts remained sharp. Wanda’s maternal instincts were in full swing, and Y/N seemed to thrive under her attention. But was it genuine, or was the girl playing her own game?

Later that evening, Agatha found herself on her front porch, nursing a glass of wine as the stars blinked into view. The hum of the Hex was quieter here, its magic settling into a steady rhythm as the town went to sleep.

She was about to head inside when she heard the soft shuffle of footsteps. Y/N emerged from the shadows, her arms wrapped around herself as if warding off the chill.

"Agnes?" she called softly, her voice tinged with hesitation.

Agatha straightened, her brows lifting in surprise. "Y/N? What are you doing out here so late?"

Y/N hesitated at the foot of the porch steps, her green eyes wide and uncertain. "I… I didn’t want to bother Wanda," she said. "I just… I couldn’t sleep."

Agatha gestured for her to come closer, her curiosity piqued. "Well, come on up, then. No sense standing out there in the cold."

Y/N climbed the steps, her movements careful and deliberate. She perched on the edge of the porch swing, her fingers twisting in her lap.

"Trouble on your mind, sweetie?" Agatha asked, her tone casual as she leaned back in her chair.

Y/N shrugged, her gaze fixed on the ground. "I don’t know. I guess… it’s just a lot, you know? Starting over, trying to fit in…"

Her voice was soft, almost fragile, and Agatha felt a pang of something she couldn’t quite name. She studied the girl in the dim light, the faint shadows under her eyes, the tension in her shoulders.

"Fitting in isn’t all it’s cracked up to be," Agatha said finally, her voice tinged with dry humor. "Trust me, I’ve been trying for centuries."

Y/N looked up at her, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "You make it look easy."

Agatha chuckled, swirling her wine. "Oh, honey, if only you knew."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, the quiet night wrapping around them like a blanket. Agatha found herself relaxing, the usual edge of her thoughts softening as she watched Y/N.

The girl was good—she had to admit that. Whatever she was hiding, she played the innocent act perfectly. But Agatha wasn’t about to let her guard down. Not yet.

"So," Agatha said, breaking the silence. "What are you really running from, Y/N?"

Y/N blinked, her expression startled. "What do you mean?"

Agatha smirked, leaning forward slightly. "Oh, come on, sweetie. Nobody ends up in a place like Westview without a reason. Fresh start, sure, but fresh starts usually mean there’s something you’re leaving behind."

Y/N hesitated, her fingers tightening in her lap. For a moment, Agatha thought she might deflect, but then the girl sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly.

"I guess… I’ve always been looking for somewhere I belong," she said quietly. "Somewhere I can just… be."

Her voice was so earnest, so raw, that for a moment, Agatha believed her. But there was a flicker of something in Y/N’s eyes—a shadow, fleeting and elusive—that reminded Agatha to stay sharp.

"Well," Agatha said finally, her tone softening. "You’ve got a knack for making people like you. That’s half the battle right there."

Y/N smiled, the tension in her shoulders easing. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Agatha watched her for a moment longer, her thoughts swirling. The girl was a mystery, no doubt about it. But if there was one thing Agatha loved, it was solving puzzles.

"Goodnight, Y/N," she said, standing and draining the last of her wine.

"Goodnight, Agnes," Y/N replied, her smile shy as she rose to leave.

As Agatha watched her disappear into the night, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was standing on the edge of something big. Something dangerous.

[rooksspite]

Marks of Love

Davrin x f!Rook (unnamed)

summary: after a night of too many drinks, Davrin finds Assan covered in kisses.

yes this is based off of that one meme of that girl who came home drunk and was really excited to see her cat

Davrin wakes one day with a headache and little recollection as to how he ended up in bed.

He remembers Lucanis inviting him and Rook to talk about old jobs again over a shared bottle. or 3. Honestly it could’ve been more he just couldn’t remember. After that it’s all a blur. He’s surprised he made it to bed in the first place.

With a groan he stands from his bed, wincing as he faces the open brightness of the fade. Moving sluggishly to throw on a shirt and pants before yawning and making his way to open the door of his room.

“Assan,” he calls out to the griffin sitting his usual spot. The wooden stairs creaking under his steps.

When Assan turns his head to look at him, it makes Davrin pause midstep, “what in the…”

There were specks of red dotted across Assan’s face, two on his beak, a couple on the sides of his face, even more across his forehead and the top of his head.

Davrin steps closer to get a closer look at the griffin’s face, “what happened to you buddy?” he asks softly, still struggling to fight off the last remnants of sleep. He had a number of ideas of what the marks could be, maybe the griffin snuck into the pantry to snack on berries again, or maybe he got into Emmrich’s inks.

Assan squawks as Davrin squats down to take his face in his hands, his eyes widening in realization. The spots were a very similar shade of berry red, in the shape of lips he’s grown to know all too well.

Davrin huffs out a laugh and hangs his head, “someone got some love last night.” Davrin muses, Assan only replies with a happy noise and a flap of his wings.

“Davrin,” he hears a familiar voice call. He looks up and sure enough there she is, just leaving the light house and making her way towards him. wearing the exact same shade on her lips that decorated Assan’s feathers.

“Rook,” Davrin greets, letting go of Assan’s face and standing “seems you got a bit excited to see Assan last night.”

To be fair, Rook always got excited seeing Assan, always showering him in hugs and pets whenever she walked by him. Though it seemed that alcohol released her from whatever she was holding back when it came to giving Assan affection.

“What do you- oh…” Rook pauses when she takes in the sight of Assan littered in kisses, her eyes move up to look at Davrin and he raises an eyebrow when he sees an obvious flustered look take over her features.

“Something wrong?” Davrin asks

Rook goes to speak but is cut off when the both of them hear the familiar clank of Neve’s prosthetic hitting the stone ground, “well good morning you three, have fun gossiping over your alcohol?”

Before either of them can answer, Neve takes in the scene before her and an amused smile crosses her face, “my my, just what were you two up to last night?”

Rook looks away flustered and Davrin’s confusion only grows, “what are you talking about?”

Neve smiles innocently, “nothing, I just think it’s adorable how similar you and Assan can look sometimes.”

Neve begins walking away towards the kitchen and Davrin can only furrow his eyebrows at her comment, “similar?” he turns to look down at assan again, “what are you even…” he trails off, his eyes landing on the splotches of lipstick sticking to Assan’s feathers as a look of realization crosses his face.

Suddenly he remembers drunken giggles as him and Rook leave the dining room, a cooed, “Assan!” followed by a shocked squawk and exaggerated kissing sounds.

He remembers leading Rook to her room, her turning towards him and reaching for his face, the sight of her lips moving towards him.

Slowly, Davrin reaches a hand up to his cheek, swiping at it before moving his hand back into view.

Sure enough, his fingertips were smudged with the very same berry red that covered both Assan and Rook’s lips.

“Looks like someone was also excited to see me last night.” Davrin hums with a hint of amusement.

Rook lets out a flustered laugh, her gaze still on the ground, “is it bad that I don’t even remember?”

Davrin chuckles and shakes his head, taking a step closer to room before placing a finger under her chin to make her meet his gaze. Rook lets out a surprised noise as Davrin leans down to press a kiss to her lips.

Just as quickly he pulls away, a new coat of her red lipstick smudged against his lips, “I think you ought to help us clean us you mess hmm?”

Assan squawks loudly from beside the two and Rook laughs, leaning her head against Davrin’s shoulder, “I suppose it’s only fair.”

[lichenes]

Hi, could you do a young silco x nb! reader where they have been friends for years and have been pinning HARD on each other, and one of them(your choice idk who) over hears the other talking about how they feel, and basically, they are kinda forced into confessing...that kinda leads to smut with feelings..pleasethankyouso

Silco falls to his knees for you in this one btw. Just so you know. Tried to write the smut as gn as possible!! CW: vanilla sex?? nothing wild ig, no reader genitals mentioned, gn!reader, silco and reader being oblivious wc: 838 .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

You stretched your body walking into the bar part of The Last Drop. “Morning.” You said to Vander who was preparing the bar for opening. “It ain’t quite morning anymore, luv.” You looked at the clock which displayed 7:30pm on the dot. “I couldn’t sleep all night...” You said still blinking back sleep from your eyes.

“Your shift starts in half an hour, by the way.” Said Silco appearing seemingly out of nowhere. “Clients don’t show up until like 10, relax.” You mused, a bit startled by his sudden presence, nevertheless happy he was there.  

You were dressed in your usual work clothing, nothing special, just a pair of slacks, a loosely fitted dress shirt and an apron meant to keep the uniform at least partially clean. You were wiping down the tables before more of the guests arrived, final touches as Vander liked to call it. You were the only person serving food and cleaning tonight so you had your hands full. 

Silco felt cornered. Mesmerised - he was mesmerised by you. Sitting at the bar and nursing a glass of whatever was cheapest, he purposefully ignored you. Were he to pay you any mind, he would go insane. Not an hour ago did he overhear you confessing your infatuation with him to your coworker.

“Okay, who is it then?” Said the newest addition to the staff. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop… truly, he was just about to ask you something menial when he heard his name being spoken. It rolled off your tongue with such adoration when you were sure he wasn’t listening. “I’ve got my eye on Vander…” Commented the girl. 

“Not my type.” Silcos heart beat faster. “You fancy Silco?” You hummed affirmatively, creating a memory for him, he was sure he’d never forget.

Vander waved his hand in front of Silco’s face, waking him up from the daydream. “You alright?” Silco’s face didn’t give away the whirlwind of emotions he was going through right in this moment. Although, he had slightly more colour in his face. “Yeah- listen.” He beckoned him closer. The bar, despite being quite loud, didn't offer enough privacy to say such things at full volume. 

“They said they fancy me.” Vander looked at him in disbelief. He then chuckled. “What, like you didn’t know?” Silco’s face went pale. He grabbed the bar’s edge. “Mate, everyone in the undercity knows this. The whole, you know, back and forth you lot have going on.”

Silco stood up. He was a calculated man. His actions were meticulous. Years of yearning. Months of planning a confession and that’s how he finds out the love of his life actually reciprocates his feelings!? He wasn’t following a script or a plan. “I need to find them. Now.”

You were taking your break in the back when Silco burst through the door. You smiled at him and just when you were about to greet him he closed the door and ran up to you. “Silco?” You questioned his erratic behaviour.

“...for years, and it feels like he doesn’t notice it!” 

He smashed his lips into your own ones cradling both your cheeks as he lowered himself to the floor, finishing his descent on his knees. You reciprocated the kiss, craning your head down so that he could stay close to you. 

You enjoyed the moment as much as you could, afraid it was to flee as soon as you separated. 

When you did, you put your foreheads together. Laughing slightly you looked at him and caressed his cheek with your thumb. “Took you long enough.” He then felt it, the hunger he suppressed for so many years. He dove back in, greedier than before. You moaned in surprise but welcomed it nevertheless. 

You battled for dominance for a moment, in the end he won. There never was questioning it. “I need you.” You managed to get out.

“I’ll make you need me even more.” 

You were resting your back on the door of the room which was locked to prevent people from interrupting your tryst. Silco had one of your legs propped on his hip, holding onto the neighbouring cabinet was the other thing keeping you upright. 

He was thrusting into you with vigour that was making you go cross eyed. Your arms around his neck were only adding to the experience, you needed him closer, right here - right now is all that counted. 

You saw white when he put his cold hands onto your most sensitive spot. A few circles is what got you to the edge and his blissed out words spilling from his lips - ‘come for me’ - for me. You’d do anything for him at this moment. 

And so you followed his instruction, causing his own orgasm after your own. He put his head on your shoulder when you both were basking in the afterglow. You brushed his bangs out of his face. His eyes were twinkling. 

“Tell Vander he needs to find a replacement for you tonight, I need you all to myself.” 

.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ masterlist

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Emotional Support Animal

Hi. I’ve been reading your Merlin stories and I just finished The one with Gaius the emotional support dog. Could you write a similar one but set in medieval times in Camelot. Maybe his friends notice his anxiety and panic attacks and don’t know how to help. There’s a hunting dog that’s rubbish at hunting, too protective of everything or not the right temperament. They’re going to kill the dog or sell him but Arthur has noticed that Merlin seems calmer around animals (or calmer after walking Arthur’s dogs) so he gifts the dog to Merlin. Merlin’s new dog becomes the world’s first emotional support dog. Or if you want a twist, Merlin gets a tiny (cat sized) runt of a dragon as an emotional support critter. I just also thought it would be hilarious to see Uther’s reaction to Merlin having his emotional support dog following him around the castle. – mcddff

Read on Ao3

Warnings: panic attacks

Pairings: merthur, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 2153

"It's incredible," Elyan muses as Merlin sleeps, curled up into a little ball with the dog snugly in his lap, its head resting in the crook of his elbow, "I've never seen him be the first to fall asleep while we're out of the castle…ever."

"I've never seen him sleep." Percival shifts to adjust the fire, wary of how much noise he's making. "Part of me believed he didn't."

"The dog's good for him," Arthur says, the same way he always has: with the quiet conviction of someone who knows beyond any reasonable doubt that he is correct.

***

Whenever the castle produces a new litter of puppies, the King and the Crown Prince are summoned to appraise the fresh crop of hunting dogs. The stable master guides them down to the stall that's been set aside for the new mother and her pups. Arthur wrinkles his nose slightly at the smell. Merlin, strangely enough, does not.

"I grew up around this sort of thing," he mumbles when Arthur shoots him an accusing look, "I'm used to it."

He sets aside how distinctly uninspired he is to make jokes about Merlin being raised in a barn for later, turning his attention to the squirming bundles of fur rolling around in the shavings. Uther raises a hand and the stall door is unlocked, letting Arthur inside to examine them.

"How did they fare?"

"Well, sire. Tad loud in the midst of it, but that's typically how she is."

Uther nods, his gaze roaming over the puppies. Arthur crouches down near the door, letting them come over and sniff him. He's been told it's good practice to get himself acquainted early, let them know his scent. It took him far too long to realize Uther didn't partake in such things, but then again it's been a while since he believed his father to be beyond reproach. As they always do when his thoughts steer in this direction, his eyes dart towards Merlin.

Merlin's gaze roams just as Uther's does, only his is softer, gentle. A bit of respect and admiration for the mother, who birthed her litter and now sleeps in the sunlight—thinking she's earned it, no doubt, and Arthur finds himself hard-pressed to disagree—and nothing but wonder for the little balls of fur darting about the stall. A few of them nip playfully at Arthur's boots and fingers, yipping. He rewards them with gentle pats to their heads, a stroke down their backs. The mother opens one eye, assessing him, before deciding he's allowed to do what he pleases and going back to sleep.

"—and only one runt to put down, which is some sort of record for her."

Merlin's head turns. Arthur stands up, already going to get between Uther and Merlin before Uther can notice he's being stared at—glared at, more likely—and before Merlin can open his mouth and say something to get himself in trouble.

"I think they'll be good for us, Father," he says, swinging open the stall door to block Merlin. Playing the 'father' card with Uther never fails to catch him off-guard. It shouldn't, but it does, and Arthur's not going to think about that now either. "We should begin training them as soon as they're able."

Uther nods, mind already elsewhere. "Have the kennel master made aware."

"Yes, sire."

With that, the King turns and begins to make his way back toward the citadel proper. Arthur lingers behind, ostensibly to watch the puppies play for a little longer, but really it's to let Merlin quietly ask the stable master if the runt has already been taken care of. The stable master glances over to see if Uther's really gone—he is, the King would never be caught dead near the stables if he didn't have a damn good reason—before telling him it's in the last stall on the right.

Merlin's off before Arthur has time to say anything.

"How are the bakers liking their new dog?"

"'S named Clove now, sire. They love the little thing."

"And the family on the edge of the city?"

"Well, nothing quite replaces a child, sire, but they do love their Gilly."

Arthur nods. It's been far easier than he anticipated to strike a deal with this stable master and kennel master. The previous ones, Uther's men through and through, had killed the runts as soon as they were made clear. But these men know how precious a little pup is for any family who might need one, and so Arthur had helped them quietly smuggle the pups out in the dead of night with a wink and a promise that they not tell anyone where they got them.

Oh, sure, the smarter of the guards—and Leon, because that man knows everything—already knew. But the majority, and most importantly, the ones that would tell Uther, were none the wiser.

"If I may, sire?" Arthur glances over. The stable master grins. "I know that sweet little tailor's lass was waiting for her new pup, but I think she can wait a little while longer."

Sure enough, when Arthur makes it to the last stall on the right, Merlin's sitting there with a dark brown pup in his lap, letting it gnaw on the edge of his sleeve. He looks up at Arthur and Arthur just sighs.

***

The pup doesn't have a name. If it does, Arthur doesn't know it. If he didn't know Merlin were a sorcerer, he'd be staggered at how quickly the pup learns to do exactly what Merlin wants, recommending he take it up with the kennel master for training the dogs when they come of age. But he knows, and more importantly he knows Merlin would never be comfortable teaching anything to kill, and so he just sits back and marvels.

The pup stays at Merlin's heels everywhere he goes. He tried to enforce it staying out of his chambers at first, only to fall victim to two dangerous sets of puppy-dog eyes, and quickly relented with a sharp order to make Merlin clean it if any 'accidents' were to happen. But they never did; the pup sits or lies down politely at the edge of Arthur's desk while he works, dozing in the sunlight or gnawing on a small scrap of cloth that Merlin swears was from his own bedraggled closet, not Arthur's. When Merlin has to leave to go on an errand, it hops up and follows him, nudging Arthur's leg as they leave. And when he's back, it always nudges his leg in greeting before plopping right back down.

The knights take it in stride, the way they do with everything when it comes to Merlin. The pup sits on the sidelines with him as they train, hops up onto a table in the armory to get out of the way when they come to return their weapons. It makes a befuddled mess of itself once when all of them go to retrieve their cloaks only to find it whimpering quietly in question, swaddled in a mess of all of them. It licks Merlin's face when he goes to help, leaving the two of them laughing as the knights watch on in wonder.

"Damn it, Merlin," Arthur swears he hears Gwaine mutter under his breath, "leave some for the rest of us, would you?"

But Merlin's still smiling softly at his pup and Arthur…well, Arthur's not inclined to move to the next part of training either.

***

Merlin has magic. Merlin is a sorcerer. Merlin is a very powerful sorcerer. Merlin is a very powerful sorcerer serving Crown Prince Arthur Pendragon in the heart of Camelot, a kingdom so staunchly anti-magic under the iron fist of King Uther Pendragon that the first day he arrived, he witnessed an execution of someone like him.

Of course Merlin is terrified.

Arthur has to give him credit: you'd never know it by looking at him. Sure, he makes jokes about Merlin being a coward, but he never means them. Not when Merlin is hiding a fear greater than one he could ever understand and still manages to smile and joke like everything's right with the world.

That doesn't mean it's always easy.

One of the first things he'd done once he realized Merlin's…gifts and the implications therein was go to Gaius. First because Gaius was bound to know about this, second because he wants to know why Gaius didn't tell anyone, and third because—because—

Well, because he was worried.

Not that he would have admitted it then—and you'd be hard-pressed to get him to admit it out loud now, but because his little skinny shrimp of a servant who looked as if a stiff breeze would knock him over sometimes was also prone to staring into the distance with the same look as some of the oldest of Camelot's knights. Because he'd almost stumbled upon said servant breathing hard as though he'd run the length of the kingdom, tears and a puddle of sick on the floor at his side. Because he'd laid awake the few nights they'd slept close together, listening to muffled cries and soft curses with his chest aching as though he'd been stabbed.

Because Merlin needs help, and it's not a sort of help he knows how to give.

The knights can't give it either. They give it where they can—he's long ago learned his lesson about underestimating them—and once, he has to quickly duck back around the corner when he sees Gwaine and Lancelot holding Merlin in their arms as he sobs. But he doesn't know what else he can do other than check in every once in a while.

Then the pup barks at him.

It startles him awake, because he's never heard the pup bark before, and then he's staring down at this little brown ball of fur growling at him, and he's out of bed the next moment. He follows it down the darkened hallways until he's standing outside Gaius's chambers—Merlin's room, and the pup nudges him through the door and—

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Merlin's curled up so tightly it's a wonder that he can still breathe. The pup jumps onto the bed and nudges its way into his hold, licking his face and whining softly. Merlin's sobs slow ever so slightly, his head turning to nuzzle the pup's head as it patiently licks away his tears. His eyes open slightly and then he sees Arthur.

"A-Arthur—"

"Shh, shh, it's alright, you don't have to say anything," he soothes, rushing to the edge of the bed when Merlin looks like he's about to fall into the wall to get away from him, "it's alright, I'm not gonna hurt you."

The pup whines, reaching out to grab Arthur's sleeve with its teeth to pull him closer. Arthur chuckles, shifting close enough to wrap his arms around his poor Merlin. The pup licks his cheek and, well, if it helps…

Merlin lets out this adorable little noise when Arthur kisses his cheek. He stares up at him, his eyes wide, and Arthur smiles gently.

"Hello, Merlin," he murmurs, "it's alright, see? I'm right here."

The pup whines indignantly, nosing in between him and he laughs.

"We're right here."

***

Uther looks up as Merlin comes into the hall.

"Arthur."

"Yes, Father?"

"Why does your manservant have a dog?"

Arthur doesn't even look up. "It's his emotional support animal."

"His what?"

"His emotional support animal."

"Why does your manservant need an emotional support animal? I've never heard something so ridiculous. Get rid of him at once."

"It's his dog, Father. It's well-trained. I don't see the harm in letting him keep it."

"Then get rid of him. No son of mine will have such a mutt trailing after him."

"Can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?"

"He's my emotional support manservant."

"Arthur."

"Yes, Father?"

Uther may rule his kingdom with an iron fist, but he did not stay a King as long as he has without learning how to pick his battles.

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[goforth-ladymidnight]

A Second Chance, Ch. 16

@praetorqueenreyna @thrumbolt @achaotichuman @northern-polaris @zivotzaruzi @taymartiart (Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged or untagged.)

I just checked my last update, and not only was it almost a month ago (sorry!), I included an apology for the previous chapter's cliffhanger. So, to get it out of the way, I'll just warn you now and apologize for this next one. 🫶

Pairing: Tamlin x Lucien

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: It's the Friday before Christmas, and some unexpected surprises show up on everyone's doorsteps.

Read on AO3, or read on below:

There was a knock on the open office door, then someone called through the crack: “Special delivery for J. P. I.”

Tamlin and Jurian looked up at the same time, then exchanged surprised looks.

“From who?” Jurian asked the smartly-dressed courier standing in the doorway with a large rectangular box tucked under his arm.

“T & J, sir. It’s a department store, sir.”

“I know what it is.” Jurian gave Tamlin a look. “The only question is who would be sending us a box full of high end goodies from Thread & Jewels of all places,” he remarked dryly, then flicked up his eyebrows. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Tamlin blushed as he carefully closed the drawer of the filing cabinet he’d been organizing. “You never know. It could be from Vassa.”

Jurian grimaced as he pushed his rolling chair away from the desk. “Doubtful,” he said, groaning as he stood. “She just barely started speaking to me again. Besides, why would she need to have something delivered? More to the point—” He took the pen from the waiting courier’s outstretched hand. “—Why would your boyfriend have something delivered? You just moved in together. You could be saving a fortune on postage alone, not to mention tips. Which I will happily pay,” he quickly added to the courier.

“No need, sir. It’s been taken care of, sir,” the courier said, unfazed as he held out the clipboard for Jurian to sign.

“Really? No kidding.”

Tamlin stood back and slid his hands into his pockets. “Maybe it’s not for us,” he mused. “Maybe it got sent to the wrong place.”

Jurian squinted at the fine print, then scrawled his signature. “Guess again,” he remarked, clicking the pen closed and handing it back. “That’s our address. And look—” He held up a small, cream-colored envelope and wagged it. “—It’s got our business name on it, with a little heart dotting the ‘i’ and everything.”

Tamlin rushed forward, blushing madly. “Let me see that,” he said, snatching the envelope from a smirking Jurian, then turned it over. “It does not.”

“Maybe not, but who else would go to all this trouble?”

“Lucien,” they said in unison.

“You got it.”

As Tamlin slit open the envelope, Jurian asked the courier, “Is there anything else?”

“No, sir. Enjoy your weekend, sir. And happy holidays, sir.”

“Yeah, you, too,” Jurian said, accepting the box before closing the door behind him. “So, what does your little love note say?”

Tamlin was too intrigued by the message to be embarrassed further by his friend’s teasing. “Here’s a little something for each of you,” he read aloud. “You’ll know which is which, but just in case, call me.” He didn’t mention the small heart next to the phone number at the bottom, but he smiled at it, just the same.

Jurian tilted his head and listened as he gently shook the package. “Huh. Whatever it is, it’s tightly-wrapped,” he mused. “It’s probably just clothes, but it feels too heavy to be Christmas pajamas.”

“As if Lucien would ever buy you pajamas,” Tamlin said, smiling.

“Good point,” Jurian said, hefting the box. “Hmm. A blanket, maybe?”

Tamlin slid the card into his pocket and chuckled. “You look like a big kid shaking your presents the day before Christmas,” he said wryly. “Did you ever open them early, just to see if you were right?”

“You bet I did,” Jurian said, smirking as he set the large box on top of the desk. “My parents had to get pretty creative to fool me.”

“Sounds like you were always meant to be a detective, then.”

“Huh. I guess I was,” Jurian agreed, reaching for some scissors. “Now let’s see how good I still am.”

As it turned out, there was more than one box tucked inside the larger one.

Jurian clicked his tongue and shook his head. “The old nesting doll trick,” he moaned. “I should have known.”

Tamlin allowed him to heft the smaller box before he opened it, though, just to give him a sporting chance.

“Books, maybe… No, wait. I’ve got it. T & J’s is a department store. It’s picture frames, or nothing. I’d bet my couch on it.”

As it turned out, he didn’t have to, because he was right. There were two picture frames inside, one for each of them, with pictures.

Tamlin smiled at his silver reindeer frame, but he had to chuckle at the photo inside it. He and Lucien were standing next to their newly decorated tree, he in his jingle-bell antlers and his boyfriend in an ugly candy-striped sweater, and making a heart with their outstretched hands. The rest of the photos that Jurian had taken of them that night were in a small envelope of their own. There was the one of them falling into each other’s arms and laughing, then hugging, and then just looking at each other.

He would have kept looking, but Jurian’s wistful sigh drew his attention.

His boss—and friend—was slowly flipping through his own stack of photos, featuring him and Vassa standing by the Christmas tree. The frame Lucien had chosen was tucked under his arm.

“So, what did you get?” Tamlin asked him politely.

Jurian’s gaze was soft and somewhat sad as he glanced up. “Hmm? Oh, it’s empty,” he said, turning the frame around. It was covered in sculpted silver snowflakes, but the frame itself had nothing inside it, just as he said. “I guess he knows Vassa and I aren’t together anymore. Not that we were ever together to begin with, I mean…”

Tamlin winced. “I think he just wanted to give you the choice in what photo you wanted to put inside,” he offered kindly.

“That’s very optimistic of you, but highly unlikely,” Jurian said, sitting on the edge of the desk. He set the silver frame aside. “I think he just didn’t want to hurt my feelings. This is the sort of gift you give your future in-laws when you want to impress them… or your boss, in this case.” He pointed at the framed certificates on the wall behind him. “Everyone who knows me knows I like my frames like I like my liquor: cheap, oak-y, and on sale.”

Tamlin rolled his eyes. “Or maybe—��� he said, picking up the snowflake frame and brandishing it. “Lucien thought that Santa and his Little Helper would like a frame that looks more like it came from the North Pole instead of the bottom of a bargain bin.”

“Hey. My frames have character, even if they do give you splinters.”

Tamlin ignored his sarcasm. “He didn’t have to give you a frame,” he continued. “Or the photos. I don’t think Vassa would have let him give those to you if she didn’t still care about you, at least a little.”

Jurian’s pinched mouth softened. “You think?”

Tamlin nodded, then reached out and tapped at the topmost photo in Jurian’s hands. “I think you should frame that one.”

It was the one candid photo Lucien had managed to take of them, in which Jurian was gazing at Vassa with such tenderness, it was impossible to believe that he had been pretending the whole time. It had been real from the start. Only he hadn’t realized it yet.

Jurian let out a heavy sigh. “Okay. Maybe I will,” he said quietly, taking the frame from Tamlin’s hand. “It’s not going to match anything on my wall, though. I guess it will have to live on the desk for a while.”

Tamlin smiled. “That’s the spirit.”

“Yeah. And speaking of spirit,” Jurian declared, gesturing to the large box behind him. “You still have one more gift to unwrap. And—before you say anything—I highly doubt it’s for me. It’s got your name written all over it. Metaphorically speaking.” He held up a finger. “Unless…”

But even Jurian didn’t guess right this time.

It wasn’t a monogrammed quilt, like he thought, or a robe, for that matter.

It was a beautiful gray wool overcoat with a high collar and two rows of buttons. Tamlin slowly rubbed the thick fabric between his fingers. He couldn’t stop touching it. He couldn’t stop staring at it.

Jurian whistled. “Fancy,” he drawled, moving the empty cardboard box to the floor. “Now that’s the sort of coat you can take for a stroll downtown without freezing your ass off,” he remarked. “Where did you say Lucien was taking you, again?”

“We’re going to his family’s Christmas party. Well, it’s a company party. They have one every year,” Tamlin told him with a wincing smile, then shrugged. “He talked me into it.”

“Well, congratulations. Or, condolences,” Jurian said with a small bow. “I guess it depends on how cheap the Autumn Corporation is going to be. Either way, I don’t envy you.”

Tamlin huffed a shy laugh. “I don’t mind,” he said honestly. “Mostly I’m just nervous about meeting the rest of his family. I only met them once around the holidays about eight years ago, and that was before either of us came out.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” Jurian said, giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder. “At least you know his brother likes you.”

“Yeah, but that’s just one of them. He has six.”

“Six? Good lord. His poor mother.”

Tamlin ducked his head to hide his nervous smile. “I remember she was really nice when I first met her, but that was before Lucien and I started dating.”

“Relax. She’s gonna love you,” Jurian said kindly, thumping him on the arm. “Now quit worrying. We’ve still got some cleaning up to do before we close up for the holiday, and we’ve got your boyfriend to thank for that.”

“Oh! That reminds me. I still need to call him,” Tamlin remembered, reaching for the card in his pocket.

“All right,” Jurian conceded, “but make it snappy. I don’t want to hit rush hour. Traffic is going to be crazy enough as it is.”

Luckily, Lucien picked up after the second ring. “Hey there, Handsome.”

Tamlin adjusted the receiver against his ear and smiled. “How did you know it was me?”

“I didn’t. I’ve been saying that all day, hoping you’d call,” Lucien teased. Tamlin laughed, and he could hear the pleased grin in Lucien’s voice when he continued, “So, I’m guessing you got my message.”

“I sure did, but Jurian and I were wondering why you went to all this trouble to have things delivered here when I’m going to see you in a couple of hours.”

“Well, you know me,” Lucien said unabashedly. “I just couldn’t wait until the party. Besides, shopping took longer than I thought, and I still have to give Vassa her gift. I’m on my way to see her now, actually. Did you know she’s coming tonight?”

Tamlin shifted the receiver to his other ear as he glanced at Jurian, who was putting her photo in his frame. “No… I didn’t know.”

“Do you think you can convince Jurian to come? It would be nice to see him and Vassa make up before the new year.”

They had certainly been cordial enough as they helped Tamlin move his things into Lucien’s apartment, but breaking down cardboard boxes was not the same thing as breaking down communication barriers.

Tamlin winced and looked away when Jurian noticed him staring. “I’ll try,” he told Lucien quietly.

“Thanks, Tam,” Lucien said warmly. “Before I go, how do you like your new coat? Is it too big? Is it too much?”

“No, I love it,” Tamlin assured him, folding back the tissue paper to look at his brand new coat again. “It’s perfect.”

“Good.” Lucien sounded relieved. “I was worried it wouldn’t fit, so…”

“Oh. I don’t know about that. I haven’t tried it on yet,” Tamlin said sheepishly. “Your card said to call…”

“Well, put it on!” Lucien said eagerly. “There’s still time to exchange it before we go to the party tonight.”

“Oh, okay. Um… Here. Talk to Jurian for a second,” Tamlin said, thrusting the receiver in Jurian’s direction. Jurian, who had been slowly cleaning up and pretending not to listen in, rolled his eyes as he reluctantly accepted the receiver.

“Hey,” he said flatly, then looked Tamlin over as he pulled the coat out of its box. “Yeah, he’s putting it on right now… Hmm? Oh, that. Yeah, thanks. The photos were a nice touch. You know, you’re not a bad photographer. Everything turned out real nice with the tree and everything—Ooh, not bad, Tam. Not bad,” he said with an approving nod, then paused to listen in. His brow furrowed. “What? I don’t—” He sighed, then tilted the receiver away from his mouth. “Lucien wants to know if you look hot in it.”

Tamlin’s cheeks warmed as he chuckled and pulled his hair free from the folded wool collar. “Tell him I think so.”

“He says he thinks so,” Jurian said obediently, then rolled his eyes. “You talk to him,” he complained, holding out the receiver.

Tamlin smiled shyly as he accepted it and traded places with Jurian at the desk. The duster-length coat swirled comfortably around his legs as he turned around and sat down. As he settled into the chair, he ran a hand over the soft wool. It was perfectly warm, and perfectly perfect.

“—on a scale of one to ten,” Lucien was saying on the other end.

Tamlin bit his lip, then told Jurian, “He just wants to know what you think, on a scale of one to ten.”

Jurian wolf whistled, loud enough for Lucien to hear, and Tamlin’s face turned pink.

Lucien laughed. “That’s more like it,” he said warmly. “Which reminds me. Have you found your other gift yet?”

“You mean the picture frame? Yeah, I love it.”

“That’s good, but check your left pocket,” Lucien said mysteriously. “No, wait! I mean the right one. Sorry. There’s two gifts, actually. One in each pocket.”

Tamlin bent his neck to hold the receiver in place as he reached inside the right pocket. “How many gifts does this make, exactly?”

“I’m not sure. I kind of lost count after buying those aprons.”

“Hey, new gloves,” Tamlin marveled, pulling them out.

“I hope they fit,” Lucien said shyly as he tried one on. “It was kind of hard to get your measurements without spoiling the surprise.”

“Huh. Well, that explains why you wanted to compare hand sizes last night,” Tamlin remarked, then caught Jurian’s cocked eyebrow. He blushed deeper and turned away.

Lucien breathed a laugh. “I was trying to be subtle.”

“You were,” Tamlin assured him. “I had no idea.”

“Good,” Lucien said warmly. “As long as I guessed right, that’s all that matters.”

“Mm, they’re a bit snug,” Tamlin admitted, flexing his fingers inside the fleece lined gloves. “But stores don’t usually have my size, anyway. Don’t worry about it,” he said, peeling it off again. “They’re great.”

“I’ll get you another pair,” Lucien promised. “Now, you can save the other gift for later if you want, but you have to promise to open it before sunset.”

“Uh, okay…” Tamlin’s brow furrowed as he reached inside the left pocket and drew out a small flat box with a hinged lid.

“Just in case you turn into a werewolf, remember?” Lucien teased.

Tamlin flipped open the lid, then stared at the spiked leather choker within.

“What is that?” Jurian asked, coming closer for a better look.

Tamlin snapped the lid closed and hid the box behind his back. “Nothing.”

Jurian looked at him askance. “Is that what I think it is?”

Tamlin quickly shook his head.

Jurian’s brows rose in understanding as he spread his hands wide and backed away. “You know what? You’re right. Forget I asked.”

“...Tam?” Lucien said, worry creeping into his voice. “Tam, are you there?”

“I’m—I’m here,” Tamlin rasped, then cleared his throat. “Yeah. Mm-hmm.”

“Did I go too far?” Lucien asked hesitantly. “I thought maybe it would make you laugh…”

“It’s… uh… definitely different,” Tamlin admitted, setting the box aside, then lowered his voice so that Jurian couldn’t hear. “You didn’t actually pay for silver, did you?”

“Would you be mad at me if I did?”

Tamlin grimaced.

“Don’t worry,” Lucien said quickly. “I’m pretty sure it’s stainless steel. I don’t actually expect you to wear it. I know you’re not a werewolf.”

“Do you, though?” Tamlin said in a low voice, surprising even himself.

“What? Oh. Ooh,” Lucien purred. “Maybe I don’t know.”

Tamlin bit back a laugh. “I guess you’ll have to wait until tonight to find out.”

“I can’t wait,” Lucien said in a low voice, then in a louder tone asked, “Hey, listen. I’m almost at Vassa’s hotel. How would you guys like to meet me there? They have a nice little bar just off the lobby where we could meet up for drinks. How does that sound?”

Tamlin bit his lip in thought. “Hmm. Let me ask Jurian.” He covered the mouthpiece with his free hand. “What would you think about dropping me off at Vassa’s hotel? Lucien’s on his way there now, and he’s offering to pay for drinks at the bar, if you’re up for it.”

Jurian hesitated, then shook his head. “Tell him ‘Thanks’, but I already have a date tonight with a hot pink couch. We’re going to split a couple beers and watch the game.” When Tamlin grimaced, he added quickly, “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. Not right now.”

Tamlin nodded and turned away. “Maybe another time,” he told his boyfriend.

“It was worth a shot,” Lucien said, sighing.

“Yeah,” Tamlin agreed softly.

Jurian interrupted, “Hey, I can still drop you off, if you want to go. I just can’t stay. You understand. Prior engagement, and all that.”

“Sure. Thanks,” Tamlin said, surprised, then passed on the news to Lucien. “Do you still want to meet up there? Can your convertible seat three?”

“Hmm. I’m sure we can work something out,” Lucien said distractedly. “Listen. Call me before you leave, and we’ll figure it out. Do you have the number for Vassa’s hotel in case you can’t reach me?”

When Jurian—reluctantly—admitted that he did, Tamlin told Lucien so.

“Great. Then I’ll talk to you soon. Oh, and Tam?”

Tamlin paused. “Yeah?”

Lucien sighed softly on the other end. “I love you.”

Tamlin smiled. “I love you, too.”

* * *

Vassa was still wearing her robe when she peered through the opening of her hotel room door. Her surprised expression softened when she saw the wrapped gift in Lucien’s hand.

“You are early,” she said chidingly, even though she smiled and opened the door wider.

Lucien bent down to kiss her cheek. “Christmas is next week,” he told her as he stepped inside. “If anything, I’m late.”

She chuckled as she closed the door behind him, then slid the deadbolt into place for good measure. “And your party tonight?” she reminded him.

“Oh, that,” Lucien said teasingly. “That I’m early for.”

As he set her gift on the coffee table, he glanced around and asked, “So, how do you like your new room?”

“It is nice. View is better,” she said softly.

After Tamlin revealed that he and Jurian had been hired to report on Vassa’s whereabouts, it was agreed that she should change rooms, just to be safe. It was still registered under Lucien’s name, but it was one that Jurian hadn’t been to. It was on a higher floor, with a better view of the city, although they couldn’t see much of it at the moment. It had snowed earlier, but they were expecting more later that evening.

As Lucien shrugged off his coat, he noticed that Vassa remained by the door, hugging her arms.

“Hey… What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I do not think I should go.”

“What? Why not?”

She shrugged and looked away. “I have bad feeling. In here.” She pointed at her stomach.

Lucien relaxed a little. “Oh. You mean you’re nervous.”

She shrugged again. “I suppose.”

Lucien sighed and stepped closer. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, Jurian’s not coming. He has other plans tonight.”

“Oh.” Vassa rolled her shoulders and lifted her chin. “With another woman?” she asked, trying—and failing—to sound disinterested.

Lucien tried to contain his smirk. “He didn’t say, but I doubt it,” he said honestly.

“Hmph. He certainly knows how to keep his secrets,” she said dismissively, then brushed past Lucien to reach for her gift. “What did you bring?”

Lucien breathed a laugh as he watched her lift it to her ear and shake it. “Careful. It’s fragile. Uh, it might break.”

“Oh,” she said apologetically, then gently returned it to its place on the coffee table. She sat down on the couch and carefully removed the top of the box, then gasped appreciatively at what laid within. “Oh, Lucien. It is beautiful,” she gushed as he joined her on the couch.

“To remember your first Christmas in Prythian,” he said, smiling as she brought out the silver snowflake ornament.

It glittered as it caught the light and dangled from the ribbon she held in her delicate fingertips. “Beautiful,” she said again in Scythian.

“There is one more gift,” he told her in her language, and folded back the white tissue paper to reveal the glittering picture frame underneath.

The silver snowflake frame matched her ornament, as well as the frame he had selected for Jurian, although he didn’t tell her that. He wanted them to discover that on their own. He wanted to believe that they could be friends again, even if they never dated again. Considering how intertwined their lives were, considering that Lucien and Tamlin now lived together, it would be easier on everyone if they could learn to get along.

As she admired the new frame, Lucien reached inside the box and drew out a small white envelope. “These are the photos from our tree-decorating party,” he explained, without opening the envelope. “You don’t have to look at them, but I wanted you to have them, anyway.”

Her smile faded as she hesitated, then slowly accepted the envelope. “Thank you,” she said softly, then set it aside without looking at them.

Although he was disappointed, he wasn’t surprised.

She must have noticed his expression change, for she repeated her “Thank you” in a much more sincere tone, then kissed his cheek. “You are most kind.”

“You are most welcome,” he told her in Scythian.

She beamed. “Come,” she said, seizing his hand. “Help me decide what to wear.”

“Oh! You’re going to come?” he asked as she pulled him to his feet.

“Yes,” she declared. “If Juri can—I mean, Jur-i-an,” she said, pronouncing his name carefully. “If he can have plans, then I can have plans.”

It was better than leaving her alone in her room all night, with only a television and a minibar for company, so Lucien didn’t argue. “What did you have in mind?”

* * *

By the time Tamlin and Jurian made it downstairs, it was getting dark.

Even though it was still technically afternoon, the thick clouds above their heads made it seem later than it actually was. The near-empty parking lot was covered in a light dusting of snow, and they were already expecting more. If they didn’t leave soon, they’d be caught up in it. Most of the workers in their building had already gone for the day, having started their holiday weekend early.

“You sure you’ve got everything there, Tam?” Jurian asked him, watching him pile his old coat and the coat box into the back seat.

Tamlin flipped his scarf over his shoulder, then patted at his new pockets. “I think so. I—wait.” He blushed as he remembered the spiked choker. “I forgot my, uh…”

“Your something,” Jurian said with a meaningful nod.

“Yeah,” Tamlin said meekly.

Jurian chuckled and shook his head, then opened the driver’s side door. “I’ll get the windows scraped off. You, go fetch,” he teased.

Tamlin’s blush deepened. “Yeah, okay,” he said, then quickly turned for the entrance.

His embarrassment only lasted as long as it took to call the elevator. As he slid his hands inside his new pockets, he caught sight of his—somewhat blurred—reflection, and he smiled. As he turned, his new coat swirled around his knees. His white scarf looked good with the fine gray wool, even better than his bomber jacket. This one was a lot warmer, too.

What a Christmas this was turning out to be. He now had a boyfriend, a bigger place to live, an actual bed, a warm coat, and his violin. It seemed that his luck had finally turned around, and for the better.

Cold air swirled into the lobby. Tamlin glanced up as three men walked through the doors, wearing long black coats. That wasn’t so unusual. What was unusual was that they joined him in waiting for the elevator. It was the last weekend before Christmas, and no one was doing business. Not at this hour.

Then again, it was none of his business what these men chose to do with their time. He didn’t know everybody in the building, after all.

When the elevator opened, a gaggle of women walked out, wearing red and green and chatting merrily as they carried out boxes filled with leftover holiday goodies. There must have been an office party upstairs. Tamlin might have wished them a happy holiday as they left the elevator, if he had been alone, but he found himself strangely self-conscious and unable to speak.

With the elevator now empty, Tamlin wished he could take the stairs, but the three men seemed to be… waiting for him. Nonsense. They were just being polite.

The elevator could hold eight men comfortably, but it seemed oddly cramped when the four of them got in, one in each corner.

Tamlin stood by the buttons, even though he would have preferred to stand by the doors. “Which floor?” he asked politely.

Two of the men looked wordlessly to the third, standing stoically in the opposite corner.

“Third,” the man said, with a hard accent.

Tamlin was too distracted by his pronunciation to press more than one button. If he had been thinking straight, he would have pressed Two, and then Three, and then taken the stairs the rest of the way. Slowly.

As the elevator doors rumbled shut, Tamlin pressed himself into his corner and took a deep breath. There was no reason to be nervous. These men were strangers, but he had ridden this elevator with strangers many times before. Besides, he was just as tall as they were, even if they did outweigh him in sheer muscle. At least, two of them did.

The third man, the only one who had spoken thus far, was tall and slender to the point of being gaunt. His closely cropped hair was so blond it was nearly white, and he had a neatly trimmed goatee. He had a cane, too, but that didn’t help Tamlin guess his age. If he had to guess, perhaps he was in his late forties, or early fifties. Not that it mattered.

Had the elevator always been this slow?

The white-haired man slowly tapped a bony finger against the hand holding his cane. A thick silver ring rested on his first knuckle. Tamlin tried not to stare at it, but the movement caught his eye, and the shape held his attention. The ring was shaped like a skull.

The man noticed him looking, and he smiled. It was not a friendly smile.

Tamlin managed a tight, polite smile in return, then looked away. His icy blue eyes were rather unsettling to look at.

It was like looking at a ghost. The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.

After what felt like an eternity, the elevator rumbled to a halt, and the door chimed sweetly as it opened.

Nobody moved, though.

“Please,” the man said, gesturing with a bony hand. “After you.”

Tamlin nodded politely, then hurried out. He forced himself to walk down the hall, although he would have preferred a brisk jog. Why was he so nervous, anyway? He didn’t know them. They didn’t know him. He hadn’t been visited by the Ghost of Christmas Past… unless he counted Lucien.

Tamlin shook himself. He was being silly. He was no Scrooge. He was just nervous about meeting Lucien’s family, and he was running late. That was all.

He glanced back over his shoulder. He hadn’t meant to, but he did it anyway. Not that he had any reason to worry. The three men hadn’t tried to follow him. They were simply examining the directory printed outside the elevator. The white-haired man had lifted that same bony hand to drag his skull finger down the list of names.

Tamlin shivered, and looked away.

Bah, humbug.

His hands shook when he tried to unlock the office door, and he cursed under his breath when he nearly dropped the keys. Maybe Lucien would forgive him for ‘forgetting’ the collar. It seemed silly to come all this way for a joke. What would he tell Jurian, though? That a group of strangers had followed him onto the elevator and given him the creeps? No, it was better to grab the box and get out and pretend this never happened.

He let out a sigh of relief when the key turned and the office door swung open. Leaving the keys in the lock, he rushed for the velvet box on the other side of the desk. Maybe he would even tell Lucien about it later, and they could laugh about it over pizza and a glass of wine.

But when he turned around, box in hand, he didn’t feel like laughing.

The skeleton man was standing in the doorway, and the other two men were right behind him.

“You are J. P. I.?” the man asked in that same hard accent.

Tamlin swallowed. “We’re closed,” he rasped.

The man smiled that same cool smile, then glanced over his shoulder and murmured something in another language. The other two men stepped closer. “But… the door is open, no?”

Tamlin slipped the box in his pocket and tried to think of a way out.

At his silence, the man continued, “You speak Scythian, yes?”

Tamlin’s blood ran cold. He knew that voice. “No,” he whispered.

The man continued to smile. “I think… you do.” He pulled Tamlin’s keys from the lock and pocketed them as he stepped inside the too-small office. “I think you know exactly who I am, and why I am here.”

Tamlin couldn’t think. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. It was like Amarantha had drugged him all over again.

This man had his keys. Koschei had his keys.

No. No. It wasn’t possible. Why would Koschei come all the way from Scythia? It didn’t make sense.

This was just a very, very bad dream. In a minute he’d wake up next to Lucien. That was good. After kissing him awake, his boyfriend would pull him into a nice hot shower to work out all the kinks from the night before. They had just finished unpacking, after all. They lived together now. That was worth celebrating. Maybe they could go out for latkes…

Maybe… after he woke up.

“You try my patience,” the man said irritably. “Where is my Vassa?”

Tamlin didn’t mean to, but his eyes fell to the framed photo on Jurian’s desk.

Unfortunately for him, Koschei noticed.

As he picked it up, he frowned, and his eyes were like blue ice. “Where is she?”

Swift footsteps sounded in the hall outside the door.

“Tam?” Jurian’s voice called out. “Hey! What’s going on? Get out of my way.” He shoved his way past the two men. “What are you doing in my…?”

He faltered when he caught sight of Tamlin standing on the other side of the room.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Tamlin said weakly.

“So, I saw these clowns follow you into the building,” Jurian said quietly. “I didn’t want to seem like a mother hen, but, uh… you know. You can’t be too careful these days.”

“Yeah. I know.”

The white-haired man turned the framed photo around and asked Jurian something in Scythian. Tamlin had a pretty good guess as to what he wanted.

Jurian straightened and rolled his shoulders. His face was grim. “Da.”

Koschei lowered the photo and smiled, and it was not a pleasant smile. “Good.”

[louisaland]

Just a little ( well, quite big, really!) piece I wrote as I wanted more to this episode.

Missing Scenes from Sophomore Jinx

Just after Maureen sneaks down to help with dinner prep

« Lizzie, honey, can you go get Maureen for dinner, please? » Elliot asked his youngest child, as Kathy began dishing up the steak and fries they were having.

« I can do it, Dad! », Kathleen volunteered, as Lizzie scampered upstairs.

« Sweetheart, if I wanted to call Maureen down by standing at the bottom of the stairs, I’d do it myself. » Elliot replied, musing that Lizzie was the only member of the family that Maureen was currently speaking to and therefore the one with the highest chance of getting her to come down for dinner.

« Come on, Maureen, it’s steak and fries! If you don’t hurry Daddy will steal your fries! » Lizzie pleaded, knowing full well that Maureen always complained when their dad did that.

« OK, fine, I’m coming » Maureen grumbled.

« How about you sit next to Daddy for meals now? » Maureen suggested as they made their way downstairs to the kitchen, knowing that her place at the table was sought after, nay, coveted, by all her siblings, and when she agreed to swap with them, it was a big deal. 

« Yeah, Mo! Thank you! But does that mean you don’t love Daddy anymore? «  Lizzie questioned, eyes wide with surprise at her good fortune, but her tone was worried, as the tension between her big sister and their father was palpable.

«  He’s just being a total douch… uh, dope! » she corrected herself, not wanting to get in even more trouble for using «  bad language » in front of her younger siblings. And was it really bad language is it was the truth, she mused.

When she and Lizzie reached the table, Maureen grabbed her plate and  her sister’s, swapping them around before either of her parents could scold her. She banged her plate down loudly and proceeded to keep her eyes on it as much as possible throughout the meal. 

« Lizzie, please ask the man sitting next to you for the salt » she asked, stabbing her fork into her steak as if she were trying to kill the cow it came from. 

« Maureen… » Elliot began, before falling back into silence as Kathy reached over and put her hand on his arm, shooting him a look.

« Here, honey » he continued, handing the salt cellar to the daughter sitting next to him.

« Thank you, Daddy », she replied, before handing it to her eldest sibling.

Dickie and Kathleen glanced at each other, both equally  as uncomfortable with the unusual quietness that had descended upon mealtimes a few days ago.

As soon as Maureen had finished her bowl of chocolate mousse, she got up from the table with her glass, bowl and spoon, pulled open the dishwasher violently, slammed everything in so it clattered loudly against all the other utensils and plates that were in there. She then pushed the door shut with a crash, and stomped all the way upstairs.

There were a few seconds of respite, before her bedroom door banged shut loudly. 

Elliot sighed and met his wife’s gaze again. He knew he’d come down too hard on his daughter, but backing down now would just give her free rein to do whatever she wanted and get into who-knows-what kind of trouble. If only he’d taken 5 minutes to talk to her when he’d caught her sneaking out… 

Later that evening

« I’ll take the other three to school tomorrow, El. Maybe if you’re in an enclosed space together you’ll be able to talk to Maureen » Kathy said, rubbing cream into her hands.

« OK, I’ll try anything at this point, baby. Am I really so much of an ogre that she can’t talk to me? » Elliot sighed, slumping down on their bed.

« Elliot, honey, you’re a cop and she’s a teenager who is growing up and pushing you off the pedestal she’s had you on. You’re not an ogre, but she’s extremely stubborn… Can’t think who she gets that from » Kathy responded, trying to reassure her worried husband.

« Hmm, yeah, me neither, only 3 out of 4 of our kids are… » Elliot mused.

The next morning.

« Maureen! Breakfast! Now! » Kathleen yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

About 30 seconds later, Maureen stomped down the stairs, flung her school bag into the hallway next to the coat and shoe closet and entered the kitchen.

She grabbed her glass from the table, made her way to the fridge to pour herself a glass of juice, which she downed, before putting her glass in the sink. She also took out a yoghurt, which she placed on the table before sitting in what used to be Lizzie’s seat. She grabbed a banana and glowered at the other 5 people who were also eating their breakfast.

« OK, Kathleen, Dickie and Lizzie, we’re going in 10 minutes. That means teeth and hair brushed, coats and shoes on and bags and lunches properly packed, ready to go, alright? » Kathy declared.

A chorus of agreement from the children she had addressed echoed around the table.

« Wait a minute, Mom! What about me? » Maureen exclaimed, mouth and eyes opening widely.

« I have an errand to run after dropping your siblings off at school, so your dad’s taking you » Kathy explained.

Maureen’s eyes narrowed, her free hand formed a fist and she banged it on the table.

« Mom! No! You can take me too, or I can get the subway. I’d rather walk! » she said, frowning deeply and a look that could kill in her eyes.

« Maureen, the high school is in completely the opposite direction to school and the bank, but it’s on the way to the precinct. Your dad’s taking you and that’s the end of this discussion » Kathy replied, trying her best to keep her tone calm and even.

« Fine! » Maureen humphed, shooting daggers with her glare at her mother.Several minutes later, Maureen tidied up after herself, then made her way upstairs to clean her teeth and check her hair and makeup.

When she came back down, she called out « I’m ready! », grabbed the car keys off the hook in the hallway that was marked with a D, picked up her bag and went to sit in the passenger seat of her dad’s car. She would normally have tossed the keys to her dad, and they would have made their way outside together. 

Once she’d got her seatbelt on, her father emerged from the house, holding his briefcase, sunglasses on his nose and house keys in his other hand.

He deftly locked the front door and got into the driver’s seat. As he put on his seatbelt, he glanced at his daughter.

She swiftly turned her head, finding the view out of her window suddenly fascinating.

This would normally be a special father-daughter moment, with Maureen choosing the music and them either both singing along (well, more Maureen teaching him the lyrics, occasionally letting out a « Daddy! Those aren’t the right words! » if it was a song currently in the charts. Or they would just chat, usually teasing each other affectionately. 

The radio remained untouched, and the silence between them was deafening. 

The journey to Maureen’s school seemed to take an eternity, though all the lights were green, which put paid to his plan to try to initiate conversation when the car was not in motion.

When they pulled up to school and she got out of the car without even saying goodbye or even looking at him, Elliot decided he had to take action.

« Maureen! Wait a minute! » he called out.

She stopped in her tracks and looked at him, annoyance written across her face and the look in her eyes as cold and hard as ice.

At the precinct

« Yeah, we’re OK now, baby. I think we covered all the bases of a reconciliation as she said sorry, I told her I loved her, we hugged and had a proper goodbye, so I call that a success. Kathleen has swimming tonight, right? And Dickie’s been really keen to go to that indoor play area with the climbing wall and ball pit. I know I said I’d take him at the weekend, but could you take him and Lizzie there? I’ve missed hanging out with Maureen, I think we could do with a bit of uninterrupted bonding time… We can pick up dinner if we head out somewhere, if that helps? » Elliot said, well aware that this was a big but necessary ask.

« Yeah, sure, El. Lizzie’s got a playdate, so that’s perfect. Maybe Dickie will actually burn off some of his energy and we’ll have a quiet dinner, hmm? » his wife replied.

« Well, miracles can happen! See you at 6 at home, then? And thanks, baby! » Elliot answered, looking forward to having some quality time with his eldest child.

 They exchanged I love yous and hung up.

Outside Maureen’s high school 

The final bell of the day rang out, and, seconds later, a tsunami of chattering students spilled out of the building, flooding the steps and the area in front of the entrance. Elliot stood a little taller next to his car, seeking out his daughter’s golden hair and bright, tinkling laugh. She emerged, arm-in-arm with her two best friends, Hannah and Sophie. They were giggling about something. Hannah looked over in his direction, nudged his daughter, pointed to where he was standing and asked her something. Her face clouded with worry, wiping the smile from her face and dulling the joyous sparkle in her eyes. She exchanged a few words and quick hugs with her friends before dashing over to him.

« Daddy! Hi! Is everyone OK? » she gasped, slightly winded from her sprint.

« Yeah, everyone and everything are fine, honey. I didn’t mean to scare you, sorry. » Elliot explained, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. She squeezed him around his middle and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He smoothed her hair and cupped her face with his hands, just like he had that morning.

« Everyone else is out until dinner time, so how about we do something together? We could even go to the mall if you want! » he told his daughter.

« But Daddy, you hate the mall! You call it a bottomless money pit! And anyway, it’s a school night and I have a ton of homework, so can we just go home, please? » Maureen replied, flashing her father a happy smile.

« As you wish », Elliot declared, opening the passenger side door for his daughter.

She grinned at the quote from one of her favourite movies and got into the vehicle.

Elliot got into the driver’s side and they headed home.

At the Stabler residence.

« Thanks Dad! » Maureen said, as Elliot handed her a plate of apple slices spread with peanut butter and a handful of crackers. She placed the dish next to her glass of chocolate milk and returned her attention to her Latin homework.

Her father finished preparing his coffee and came to sit at the table opposite his daughter and her gigantic pile of books, papers and pens. She certainly hadn’t lied when she’d told him she had a lot of homework, but then again, she was the one who had pushed to be able to take as many AP classes as she could. 

« Ugh! Why did I choose to take Latin as well as French and Spanish? All the languages are getting mixed up in my brain! » she muttered, mostly to herself. 

« Want some help, honey? » Elliot asked, frowning slightly at his daughter who put so much unnecessary pressure on herself to do everything perfectly and for whom a B+ was a disappointing grade. That was all Kathy, she had definitely been the better student between the two of them. If only she could transfer some of it to Kathleen, who was content to do the bare minimum and just scrape a C.

Maureen nodded and handed him her Latin flashcards.

« OK, the verb to love in the present tense. You’ve got this, sweetheart » he said, gently encouraging his daughter. 

Maureen took a deep breath, then looked at him blankly.

She shook her head in despair. 

« Want a clue? » Elliot offered.

« Yeah, thanks » Maureen replied.

« Who are you? » he asked.

« If I am an El, you are a… »

« Amo, right? » Maureen giggled in spite of herself.

She thought for a second, recalling the verb that she had committed to memory perfectly days before.

« Then it’s amas, amat… » she continued, making the shape of a church with her fingers for the first one and pointing at the rug in the hallway for the second.

She finished conjugating the verb perfectly then moved on to her Spanish vocabulary.

She teasingly corrected Elliot’s terrible accent, which was completely justified, in his opinion.

Once she had finished, she read through her English essay. It was only a second  rough draft, and it wasn’t due for another couple of weeks, but she wanted to get it underway.

Once she was satisfied with her work, she neatly put all her things away in her bag, which she placed in the hallway.

Then she turned her attention to the kitchen counter and her father, who had started preparing dinner. Elliot silently handed her a red bell pepper with a smile, and she busied herself finding a chopping board and a knife before joining him in the cutting up of vegetables for the pasta sauce they were going to be eating.

They chatted aimiably, Maureen giving him some of the gossip from school, how the football team were doing, explaining why she never wanted to be a cheerleader, that she wanted to do more actual writing for the newspaper, as how was she ever going to be a journalist if she never got any writing experience? 

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. 

« Keep an eye on the pasta, please, Mo? » Elliot asked, as he made his way to the front door. 

If he were a betting man, he would put money on it being his second eldest daughter, who was seemingly trying to not only beat the Olympic record for her butterfly, but also for the number of times house keys were forgotten.

He checked the peep-hole, his suspicions confirmed and opened the door to Kathleen. Mrs Simmons, her friend Ashley’s mom, honked her horn and waved at him from her car, before driving off.

« Kathleen! You know the point of having house keys is that you take them with you, right? » he remonstrated.

She dumped her backpack and her sports bag in the middle of the hall and sighed dramatically.

« Sorry, Daddy, I’ll remember them tomorrow, I promise! » she replied, turning as if to go upstairs.

« Uh-huh, that’s what you told me twice last week and yesterday, honey? One of these days, you’re gonna come home and no-one will be in. What are you gonna do if you don’t have your keys, huh? » he reproached her. 

«  Go to the neighbours’, stay with Ashley and her mom til someone comes home, go see if Mom’s taken Dickie and Lizzie to the park… Or yeah, I could just remember my keys! » she declared, taking note on the disapproving look on her father’s face.

He ceremoniously handed her the keys hanging on the hook marked with a K, jangling the big metal K, the Jets logo and a chunk of moonstone on a chain that were attached to the keychain.

As she rose after crouching down to put the offending item in her school bag, 

Elliot cupped her face gently.

« Let’s try this again, OK? » , he announced.

« Hi, honey », he continued, before kissing her forehead.

« Hi Daddy », she replied, before launching into a recap of her swimming training where the coach had praised her improved technique in butterfly, which she had practised on Saturday morning when they had gone to the pool for their one-on-one Daddy-daughter quality time. 

Elliot grinned at her, gave her a thumbs up and a high-five, before sending her upstairs to shower ( and hopefully put her swimming stuff away, but that was almost certainly wishful thinking on his part).

He returned to the kitchen and resumed his culinary tasks.

Maureen had set the table, and everything was on the stove, where it could be kept warm until everyone was back and ready to eat.

Kathleen arrived from upstairs, hair damp and wearing her checked blue pyjamas. 

She curled up on the couch, and as she picked up the remote, Elliot asked her if her homework was done. She replied in the negative, whining that  all she had to do was reading for tomorrow.

« Well then, Kathleen, I think you can guess what your options are? »  he replied.

He could practically hear his daughter’s eye-roll from across the room. 

«  Ugh, yeah, do the reading or help with dinner. Fine, I’ll do the reading! » she declared, making a big show of getting up and retrieving the novel from her backpack. She theatrically collapsed into the couch and began her assignment. 

The sound of the front door opening was followed by a rush of fast footsteps and an exuberant shout  of « Daddy! » that could only come from his little boy.

He turned the handle of the pan that was full of bubbling pasta sauce just in time to avoid it going all over his son, who he picked up to hug.

Of course Dickie hadn’t taken his coat or shoes off before greeting him. 

His little boy was chattering about how he had « the best day ever, Daddy! » because he’d climbed right up to the top of the climbing wall, had jumped higher than a kangaroo into the ball pit and had run so so fast in the race he’d taken part in at recess. Elliot carried him back to the hallway so he could take off his outerwear and put it away correctly, like his youngest and his wife were doing. Dickie had been peppering his mostly one-sided conversation with kisses to his father’s cheeks. Elliot returned the gesture, before placing him on the floor with precise instructions on what the next steps were. 

Lizzie hugged his legs and he bent to kiss her hair with a « Hi, pumpkin. Good day at the office? » which made her giggle. She nodded and made her way to the living area to do some reading, colouring or quiet playing until dinner time. Dickie followed behind, pretending to be a dinosaur.

He  finally greeted his wife with a kiss.

« Lizzie and her friend, Charlotte,  ended up coming to the soft play too » she explained.

« I’ll let you guess which one of our children did their homework quietly then sat and drew pictures or played in the pretend kitchen area and which one decided they will be retiring at the end of first grade and wanted to show everyone their pterodactyl impression » she continued, as she and her husband made their way into the family room.

Kathleen and Maureen were bickering, Dickie was running around, squawking loudly and Lizzie was carefully placing her rabbit family of Calico Critters in their tastefully decorated home. 

It was noisy, chaotic but full of love and laughter, and Elliot just loved it. He was looking forward to have Maureen back in her usual seat at the table and to hear her talking to everyone again. 

Maureen and her dad

Don't you understand? You're innocent, but the world, it's what I see day in, day out. You want to sneak out in the middle of the night, have a little fun with your friends. I end up picking up your body parts in the middle of Jersey.

SVU 1x06 Sophomore Jinx

[mencnfire]

You know I'm onto your scent We're near the end of the chase Take a look out your window and I'll be there in the night Your love is so close that I can almost taste it The icy cold will cut us like a knife in the dark And we may lose everything in the wind Lose everything in the wind But the Northern Lights are burning And they're giving off sparks I want to wrap myself around you like a winter skin

[keywields]

tag drop pt 2

[bluelockmaniac]

SPLASH .ᐟ

ft. itoshi sae, itoshi rin, michael kaiser, mikage reo, seishiro nagi, & meguru bachira (honourable mention) x fem!reader

synopsis. showering & bathing with your bllk husbands !

content warning. sfw !! suggestive but not really (?) but obviously lots of nakedness ノ pet names ノ mentions of menustral period, blood, & cramps in rin’s part ノ you scare the shit out of rin ノ itoshi brothers call you insults affectionately ノ you might have smacked sae’s butt ノgentleman reo ノ they’re all crazy rich men obsessed with you .

notes. 5.6k words (approx. 1k+ each) !

𝜗𝜚 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

“hmm, this should do it!” you mused, a pleased smile gracing your lips as you admired your reflection in the vanity mirror. you twirled left and right, the rose-gold satin robe flowing gracefully like liquid gold as you checked yourself from every angle.

the silk was a recent gift from sae, one he had brought back from spain, and its smooth fabric clung loosely to your body.

tonight would be like every other night when your husband was home— you were ready to indulge in your routine— taking a shower with sae. initially, you were never the clingy type, but that all changed early in your marriage;

you had accidentally walked in on him under the assumption he was still at football practice, only to be met with the sight of him under the shower, water streaming down his sculpted body. you were flashed. though startled at first, he recovered pretty quickly and nonchalantly asked you to join him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. after all, it wasn’t like it was the first time you’d seen him naked, right?

your eyes flickered to the digital display on your mirror, noting the time and cool temperature. an idea occurred to you, and you decided that maybe after the shower, you could suggest a quick dip in the pool. the weather was nice and it wasn’t too late, either.

excitedly, you rushed into the master bathroom and swung the door loudly. you caught sight of him standing beneath the showerhead in the large shower enclosure, the droplets trailing down his well-built chest, then to his toned thighs and calves, and then finally pooling at his feet. the elder itoshi’s gaze met yours and he sighed, unfazed by your entrance— this had become routine for him, too.

his eyes travelled over to the smooth robe you were wearing, immediately recognizing it as the one he had gifted you. “you look beautiful,” he said simply as he reached to turn off the water and slid open the glass door.

“thank you,” you smiled as you began to undress. the silky material slipped off your shoulders easily, bunching up at your feet on the tiled floor. he extended his hand out toward you, and you took it, stepping into the shower stall.

“careful, don’t slip,” he warned.

you rolled your eyes, giving him a light smack on his rear, which made him frown slightly– he was usually the one doing that to you, not the other way around. you slid the door closed and retorted with a cheeky grin, “please, who do you think i am?”

he flicked your forehead gently and turned the water back on. “you say that every time but somehow still manage to slip, stupid.”

as the cool water hit your skin, you looked up at sae with a pout. “baby, the water’s too cold. i’ve told you before, i’d love it if you warmed it up whenever i enter.”

“yeah, yeah, what a spoiled princess,” he muttered, shooting you a half-assed glare before adjusting the temperature to your liking. you couldn’t help but smirk. there’s something you and only you could know— sae loved to spoil you like crazy during your showers, and that is precisely why you allowed yourself to play the role of a spoiled brat, knowing he would not mind and rather entertain it.

you wrapped your arms around his waist, looking up at him and purposely fluttering your soft lashes. he grunted, recognizing the familiar look of expectation in your serene eyes. he looked up at the shelf that held various bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. 

“which body wash do you want this time?” he asked, his hand hovering over the shelf, knowing you could be indecisive. “and no being picky.”

you tapped your finger against your lips, eyeing the different scents he had spoiled you with. “hmm, i want the coconut drift, pl–” before you could finish, he was already reaching for it, “actually, i want the raspberry dreamscape.”

he narrowed his teal eyes at you but complied anyway, grabbing your light blue loofah from the hook. he squirted the raspberry-scented body wash onto it, rubbing it until it lathered into a light pink foam. he sat down on the wide bench built into the wall, pulling you by the waist until you stood right between his legs.

you looked down at him with a gentle smile, sighing softly and resting your hands on his shoulders as he scrubbed from your neck down to your abdomen. he then turned you around to scrub your back.

“sae, i know you’re taking a peek,” you teased, glancing back at him over your shoulder.

“yeah, no shit. i’m scrubbing your pretty ass right now,” he replied casually, being particularly gentle on your cheeks.

smiling, you turned back around and reached for your cherry dew shampoo, pumping some into your hands. you lathered it up before sae stood up, holding your waist and lowering his head slightly so your fingers could reach his wet, reddish hair.

“smells like you,” he murmured as you massaged your shampoo into his scalp.

“good, you’ll think of me while you’re training.”

“i do that regardless.”

his words caught you off-guard, making you fumble slightly as you ruffled his hair. “r-right…” you stammered before quickly changing the subject. “—oh, i almost forgot, do you want to go outside? the weather’s nice.”

sae moved aside the damp strands of hair clinging to your skin and planted a light kiss on the side of your neck. “alright,”

as you followed him out of the enclosure, your wet foot accidentally slipped on the polished floor tiles. you panicked, squeezing your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the fall, but instead of hitting the solid floor, you felt a pair of strong hands catch you. sae steadied you and then handed you a towel to dry off.

“told you you’d manage to slip this time, too,” he added, slipping on his velvety, crimson robe with a smirk that only fueled your embarrassment.

“ugh…” you groaned as you wrapped yourself in your rose-gold robe. you looked up at him, then without a word, hugged him tightly. “carry me.”

he rolled his eyes, but you found yourself pressed up against his chest in less than a moment, his arms wrapped securely around you. your arms clung around his neck, and your legs linked tightly around his waist.

“why did i marry you, again?” he asked, pinching your side lightly.

you buried your face into the crook of his neck and he could feel you grin against his skin. “because you love me.”

“. . . unfortunately.”

𝜗𝜚 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍

“i thought i told you to get up,” rin grumbled, looming over the bed where you were cuddled comfortably under the duvet. “you’re lucky i’m even taking time out of my day to help you.”

you burrowed yourself deeper into the bed, pulling the duvet over your head to avoid his gaze. “i don’t want to move!” you protested, and even that subtle movement sent a sharp pain through your abdomen, making you wince at your cramps’ unbearable pain. “and besides, that's the bare minim–”

unimpressed, rin rolled his eyes and yanked the blanket off your face, gently lifting you up into his arms. your legs dangled over his elbows as he held you close. “i’ve already prepared the bath.” he said softly.

you tried to resist, throwing weak punches at his chest with your fists, but it was no use. you gave up and fell limp against his chest. the pain was too much, too uncomfortable, and the idea of being spoiled by your husband, even for a little while, was pretty tempting. 

still, you weren’t going to surrender completely without a fight. as you buried your face into his chest, an ominous smile tugged at your lips— a smile rin which knew all too well, one that made him visibly nervous. it was the kind of smile that meant you had something up your sleeve.

“i don’t know what you’re thinking of, but seriously, forget it,” he warned, eyeing you suspiciously. you responded by giving him an innocent kiss on the cheek, causing him to pause and narrow his turquoise eyes. “dammit.”

your husband set you down on the bathroom counter and began unbuttoning your floral pajama top, pulling it over your head. you gripped the edge of the counter for support, tipping your head back slightly as he leaned in to plant a soft kiss onto your neck. 

while rin busied himself with discarding the rest of your clothes, you slyly reached out and grabbed the white, gold-rimmed bin filled up with lotions, moisturizers, essential oils, and various other bath products. pretty normal, nothing suspicious so far. you peered into it, a giggle escaping your lips as you spotted this evening’s target: a bath bomb.

but this time, its colour was red.

“stop giggling at nothing, you weirdo,” he chided, scooping you carefully into his arms. his expression softened as he noticed how tightly your fingers gripped onto him, and the way your eyes squeezed shut in discomfort. “sorry, did that hurt?”

“n-no, i’m fine,” you reassured him. rin nodded, lowering you gently into the large, pre-prepared bath. it was just the way you liked it during your painful time of the month— warm, bordering on hot, with medium-sized bubbles floating on the surface.

“i’ll bring your favourite chocolate in a bit,” he said, gently lapping the water toward you before attempting to withdraw and leave. “call my name if you need anything, i’ll be outs— shit.”

it happened too fast for him to react. before he could finish his sentence, you grabbed his arm with whatever strength you had left and pulled him into the bath with you. he fell into the water with a loud splash, soaking him completely. for a hot moment, the bathroom was filled with awkward silence and the sound of water settling around you.

rin sat there, his stretchy navy shirt and black, knee-high shorts clinging to his body, drenched and dripping. he closed his eyes, one hand covering his face like a visor as he tried to calm himself. his other hand rested on the slippery surface of the tub for support.

you bit your lip, struggling to stifle a giggle as you crawled through the water towards him, pushing his knees apart so you could sit on his lap.

“i think it’s unfair that you still have your clothes on while i’m… y’know,” you pouted.

he threw you a glare, his hands gripping your waist as he tried to push you away, but you wouldn’t budge. “i fucking knew there was something wrong with your sudden obedience,” he scoffed, throwing his head back against the rim of the tub in surrender. you took the opportunity to hook your legs under his thighs and peel the shirt over his head.

“i’ll leave your shorts on…” you paused, raising an eyebrow suggestively. “—unless?”

“no.”

“yeah– thought so.”

settling against his chest, you felt his large hands move to rub berry blossom body wash into his palms. he placed both hands on your waist, sliding them up and down your sides before his fingers began tracing lazily patterns along your back.

you softly sighed and rested your chin on his upper chest, looking as blissful as ever. rin was almost tempted to lean down and kiss you until you were gasping for air, but you beat him to it. linking your arms around his neck, you slotted your mouth against his. he reciprocated, but not before pinching your side lightly, just enough to squirm in his grasp.

unbeknownst to him, however, your arm had slithered around and rummaged quietly through the white bin until it found a soft, round object. you smiled against his mouth, then subtly dropped the red bath bomb into the water with a quiet splash.

“f-fuck…” you whimpered suddenly, breaking the kiss and clutching your stomach as your face contorted—eyes squinting—in feigned pain.

rin’s brows furrowed in confusion, and he instinctively adjusted his position to grip onto your shoulders in concern. “what’s wrong? you okay?”

you didn’t respond, instead blinking up at him with half-closed eyes once, then twice, before letting your eyelids slip shut and beginning to breathe softly.

“y/—” one could say his heart practically stopped beating at that moment, his eyes widening as he watched the water around you cloud with a sweet cherry red dye. it also definitely did not help that you decided it was a good idea to fall limp onto his chest, though you were clearly breathing normally.

was your monthly bleeding supposed to be this excessive?

“w-what the fuck!” he fretted in horror as he shook your shoulders forcefully, his hand trembling as he patted your cheek, trying to get you to meet his gaze. your eyes were bleary, yet they still had their usual shine. “is this fucking normal? are you going to bleed to death? should i call for help–??”

over the course of your marriage, you had never seen rin panic like this. in the ten-plus years of knowing him, this was the first time you’d witnessed him so completely consumed by worry for you. typically, rin kept his emotions under control, reacting subtly to any situation. but now, as the vivid colour surrounded you both, you could see the raw concern surfacing on his face.

of course, a large part of you felt guilty— wondering if maybe you’d gone a tad bit too far this time. the last thing you wanted was for him to fall ill or lose focus during his next game because of the stress you caused.

unable to hold it back any longer, you let out the laugh you’d been suppressing, and rin’s expression immediately shifted from panic to deadpan. like, literally. immediately. just that stupid giggle of yours was all it took for him to realize he had managed to fall for one of your traps yet again— this time, in the most ridiculous way possible.

he simply stood up without a word and kicked the lumpy, fizzing bath bomb away. then, with water dripping down his tight-to-skin shorts, he stepped out of the tub.

“wait, rin—” you called out from behind, your hands gripping the rim of the tub as you tried to sit up.

he glanced over his shoulder with an unreadable expression as he dried himself with a towel. you noticed the faint pink tint on his cheeks, likely from the lingering embarrassment and panic. after all, even if your bleeding had been heavy, there was no way the dye would’ve been that saturated in such a large tub.

“...i’m going to say this one more time,” he said calmly, “call me if you need anything or if you want to leave the tub so i can bathe you,” he walked slowly back to you, bending down until his face was close to yours.

“i’m sor–” you started to apologize, but he cut you off.

“and one more thing,” he added, cupping your face gently in his hands. “you scared me to death, you fool. i fucking love you. don’t do that again.”

before you could respond, he sealed his lips against yours. it was safe to say you decided then and there that you wouldn’t pull that particular prank again— at least, not without the promise that he’d shower with you as part of the deal, of course.

𝜗𝜚 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑

friday had finally arrived– the long-awaited end to an exhausting week. to you, it usually meant you had all the time in the world to pamper yourself and indulge in self-care. heavy emphasis on usually, because unfortunately, this wasn’t always the case when you had an extremely insufferable (but annoyingly loveable) husband.

if there was one thing kaiser excelled at— besides hurling terrifyingly creative insults at people he barely knew and dominating the football field— it was his nonstop teasing.

you stepped into your spacious master bathroom with a soft towel embroidered with delicate begonia patterns tucked snugly under your arm. your shoulders felt unbearably stiff, and your back throbbed with ache. the thought of dipping your leg into the hot, bubbly bath you had prepared earlier was quite literally the only thing keeping you upright.

finally, your body made contact with the euphoric warmth as you lowered yourself into the wide, glossy marble bathtub positioned near the window. the heat of the water instantly began to soothe your sore muscles, and you let out a content sigh, leaning back against the built-in backrest.

oh, it was going to be so relaxing. would have been, if kaiser hadn’t suddenly barged into the washroom without so much as a courtesy knock— though knowing him, you doubted he even considered such things. the sudden intrusion made you flinch and pulled you out of the comfortable state you’d just begun to enjoy.

“knock before you enter, stupid,” you snapped, shooting him a glare as you sank deeper into the frothy water until only the top half of your head peeked out.

kaiser shut the door behind him and stood there practically naked. your eyes trailed down the path of pearly beads of water that teasingly trickled down his toned chest with no shame. the white cotton towel that hung loosely around his waist threatened to unravel and reveal what’s hidden beneath with the slightest blow of the wind.

“you’re really soaking in here all by yourself after i told you i wanted to join you, prinzessin?” he rolled his eyes, but with no real irritation in his voice as he sauntered toward you. his fingers deftly unhooked the towel from his waist, nonchalantly tossing it into the hamper.

you pushed yourself back up, fingers gripping the edge of the bathtub for support before wiping your face with your palms, water droplets sliding down your cheeks. raising a brow, you asked, “mihya– are you seriously planning to get in even after you’ve clearly just showered?”

you watched as he slipped into the tub, settling in front of you. his head leaned back against the cool marble edge, arms casually draped along the sides of the bathtub.

“that was just the rinse i always take after football practice,” he explained lazily, “is it really so terrible to want to bathe with my beautiful wife?”

you let out an exaggerated sigh, trying to hide the smile that was tugging at the corners of your lips from his compliment– though he tended to throw that one your way frequently.

“you’re so annoying,” you laughed, slowly crawling across the slippery surface of the tub toward him. your hands settled on his broad shoulders as you guided yourself onto his bare lap. “now i don’t even have room to stretch my legs.”

his tattooed hand, adorned with the blue crown, came to rest on your waist. though, unfortunately, you were oblivious to the subtle movement of his other hand, instead nestling your head against his chest.

it felt so serene— until it wasn’t.

seriously, what could possibly go wrong while you’re comfortably straddling your husband’s lap, eyes sewn shut, head on his chest as you try to continue your weekly post-work relaxation session?

apparently, everything.

in an instant, a jolt of freezing cold water slammed onto your back, each drop hitting you like a small brick. your eyes flew open and a loud gasp was drawn from you as you shot upright, instinctively scrambling away from him. you nearly slipped on the slick surface in the process as you tried to escape the showerhead above you. who thought it was a good idea to combine a bathtub with a shower, anyway?

“michael!” you whined, seeking warmth under the foamy blanket of sea. “that was cruel…”

he grinned, reaching over to turn off the water, which had started to drench him, too.

“sorry, meine liebe,” he cooed, moving to your side and pressing a gentle, almost apologetic kiss to your trembling shoulders. “i heard cold water’s great for sore muscles.”

“you and i both know that’s not why you did it,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him.

he raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer until your cheek pressed against his chest.

“hmm. well, you know, if i’m feeling generous, i might give you a life-changing massage or even treat you to your favourite food if y—”

“life-ending massage, you mean. you nearly crushed my bones last time– i literally felt my soul leaving my body.” you paused for emphasis before adding, “and i'm getting my food without any ‘ifs’.”

he chuckled and stood up with a smirk, the water sliding off his exposed body as he stepped out of the tub. he grabbed his simple towel and slung it over his shoulder before glancing back at you.

“fine, but i won’t order anything– i’ll cook.”

your heart sank. his cooking was nothing short of life-threatening.

“god, please, no!”

𝜗𝜚 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐎

“sorry, sweetheart, let me just…” reo murmured, draping a silky, red fabric over your eyes, tying it securely behind your head. “there we go, baby. can you see anything?”

“no, reo,” you replied with a small shake of your head as your hand hovered uncertainly in the air, searching for his. 

a soft laugh escaped his lips before reaching out to thread his fingers in your hand. you could only weakly map out every subtle turn in your mind as he led you somewhere in your mansion. finally, he came to a stop, causing you to bump into his firm back.

your toes flexed and unflexed, feeling the plush carpet beneath you. the texture was familiar, and you quickly recognized that he had brought you to the grand bathroom adjacent to the balcony on the upper level of your mansion.

“ready?” he asked, the double doors creaking softly as he opened them. he turned back to you, fingers curling around your wrist, pulling you in. “i’m taking your blindfold off, sweetheart.”

as the velvety fabric slipped off and fluttered noiselessly to the carpet, your eyes widened in awe. a gasp escaped past your parted, plump lips as you took in the almost surreal sight in front of you.

“baby, you didn’t have to…”

you entered the large, steamy room and the warmth of the automatically heated floor, immediately seeped into your feet. in the corner of the washroom, the jacuzzi tub was filled to the brim with fluffy clouds of white foam, and was decorated with delicate red rose petals scattered everywhere like confetti. and to make things even more romantic, vanilla-scented candles were lit on the flat edges of the tub.

your gaze shifted to a small glass table beside the tub, where a bubble machine quietly hummed classical music and released shimmering bubbles into the air. 

“do you like it?” his voice interrupted your silent admiration, and you quickly turned around, a sheepish smile spreading across your face. you locked your arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“i… i love it,” you whispered. your eyes wafted back toward the jacuzzi and you moved toward it. “thank you, reo.”

he smiled, a gentle curve of his lips that reached his eyes as he rested a reassuring hand on your shoulder. his fingers began to work from behind, unzipping the back of your fitted dress and pulling the delicate material down. “anything for my favourite lady.”

the cool air soon kissed your bare skin; dress and undergarments neatly folded by reo and set aside in the walk-in closet adjoining the bathroom. heat rose to your cheeks as you stood there, exposed. though he had seen you naked countless times before, it had always managed to leave you flustered.

your head hung low, eyes fixed down on the marble tiles beneath you as you crossed your arms over your chest, each hand on the opposite shoulder.

he noticed your bashful demeanor and chuckled softly. his hands found their place on your waist, and he bent down slightly to press slow, sweet kisses along your collarbone. you stared down at him lovingly, hands coming up to card through his soft, amethyst hair. the feeling of his lips trailing across your skin made your breath hitch, and when planted a singular, feather-light kiss on the bottom curve of your breast, your eyes fluttered shut. he straightened up to properly look at you, a grin playing at his lips.

“what, you nervous?” he teased, ruffling your hair affectionately. “smile for me, yeah? my beautiful angel.”

you opened your eyes, looking at him shyly. “stop it… you’re embarrassing me.”

he rolled his eyes playfully, his fingers reaching up to loosen his tie when you suddenly stopped him.

“i’m going to undress you.” you stated firmly, your fingers already skillfully loosening the silky tie and sliding it over his head before beginning to work on the black buttons of his suit.

“t-that’s…” his voice faltered, and he could not suppress the rosy pink tint from spreading across his pale cheeks. the sight of your focused expression– your squinted, dreamy eyes and the way your lips tucked under your teeth as you undid his clothing left him flustered.

it made his heart swell from the overwhelming realization of how much he loved you. how had he gotten so lucky, he wondered, to be with someone as lovely and gentle as you, let alone marry you?

“there, all done!” you exclaimed with a satisfied smile as you gave his firm abs a gentle pat.

“i’m going to make you undress me every single time now, no complaints,” he chuckled, grabbing your hand and helping you into the jacuzzi. the two of you settled beside each other, sinking into the rose-petal-littered, bubbly water.

reo pulled you in closer to him until your bodies were nuzzled together, aligned inch-to-inch. he let out a deep, relaxed sigh, about to throw his head back when he noticed you scooping up a handful of foamy water mixed with a few rose petals, the water seeping from between the gaps of your fingers.

you gave him a cheeky grin as you hovered your hands above his head and released the blooms, letting them fall delicately onto his hair.

he laughed and plucked a petal from his head, pressing it near your collarbone until it stuck. “sorry, gorgeous, but these petals look much better on you,”

he leaned in and pecked your soft lips. one by one, he began to pick up individual petals, carefully sticking each one all over your body, as if adorning you with pretty rubies. his lips followed each placement, planting a tender kiss on every petal he laid on your skin. the whole time, he maintained eye contact with you, those half-lidded orchid eyes making the blood rush rapidly to your cheeks.

satisfied, he reached over and picked up a nearby moveable silver-rimmed mirror and handed it to you, showing you your petal-covered body.

“see? aren’t you just the prettiest?”

𝜗𝜚 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈

“sei, i’m serious— if you fall asleep one more time, i’ll leave you in the tub alone,” you warned almost seriously, patting his cheek gently to rouse him. his heavy eyelids fluttered, and you could see the sleep creeping back as he began to slip beneath the water again.

the giant of a man’s broad back was pressed firmly against your chest as your fingers worked their mystique across his fatigued muscles. you kneaded at his shoulders, and fisted at his back, pressing his muscles gently. it wasn’t that he was sore– no. this had become a habit, something he looked forward to after a draining football practice or game.

your massages were the best of the best, his personal heaven, the kind that always managed to lull him to the brink of sleep. he had tried numerous massages from professional masseuses before you two got married, but none could ever compare to the sorcery of your hands.

“noo, i’ll drownnn…” his voice was a whine slurred with sleep. he blinked his bleary eyes before lazily readjusting his position. 

“then wake up! you’re heavier when you’re sleeping!” you scolded, poking at his shoulders.

“’kay…” he muttered, but you knew better. as expected, no sooner had he mumbled his agreement than his eyes clamped shut again, his head nodding forward. you grunted softly and wiggled out from under him, carefully removing his weight from your lap.

with some effort, you managed to move your husband, pulling him upright so he could be seated properly against the cool, black granite wall of the pool.

“hmph,” you huffed, shoving your hand underwater before splashing his sleepy face with a huge wave of water. he flinched awake and nearly lost his footing on the slippery pool floor, his hands shooting out to hold onto the edge to steady himself. “you asked for it, dummy.”

he groaned and rubbed his face with a grumpy expression. “y’play so unfairly, baby,” he muttered. his long arm reached out and, before you could react, grabbed your wrist, effortlessly pulling you against his chest. your hands were suddenly pressed against his sculpted abdomen. his large hands cupped your cheeks gently, tilting your head to the left, then the right, then back again as if inspecting you.

“hm, something’s different ‘bout you,” he mused, burying his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent with a satisfied hum. “ah. new shampoo…?” he leaned back slightly, comically raising his head to the crystal chandelier above, as if deep in thought. “strawberry elixir?”

your eyes widened in surprise. if there was one thing that amazed you about nagi, it was his uncanny observance despite his notorious laziness. you had bought the expensive shampoo just a few days ago and only today had you used it for the first time, when you showered before entering the bath.

it may be the sort of detail people would quickly notice but perhaps that was the special privilege he granted to the person he loved. for you, he gave you the rare gift of his focused attention.

you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in amusement. leaning in, you pressed a long kiss to his lips, which he lazily reciprocated. “that’s not going to make me forgive you, you know,” you murmured against his mouth, though your smile betrayed the truth.

he groaned, shifting his gaze to the scented oil bottles lined along the rim of the hot tub. without much thought, he blinked slowly and shrugged, reaching for the bottle labeled lavender dream. carelessly, he poured the entire contents into the water, the strong fragrance immediately filling the bathroom.

“nagi!” you cried, eyes wide in horror. “you don’t just add oil directly to water! they won’t mix!”

he paused, staring at the tiny droplets of oil floating on the surface before glancing down at the guilty-looking empty bottle in his hands. “oh. you’re right.”

“don’t just–!”

“uh… i have an idea,” he muttered, calmly ruffling your hair. you watched as he pushed himself up and out of the hot tub (you’re amazed he took the initiative to do something himself) and walked to the controller wall, completely unbothered by the fact he was butt-naked.

at the click of one rectangular button, the jets at the bottom of the tub immediately activated and powerful streams of water began to come from underneath, kneading at your muscles.

a delightful sigh left your lips as nagi slid back beside you, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“see, baby?” he murmured, trailing his fingers over the water, feeling the water ripple over his skin. “the oil’ll disappear sooner or later, m’kay?”

you nodded your head, slightly but not fully convinced. you turned around to hug him, closing your eyes. “sure… but i’ll just use one of the guest bathrooms if it doesn’t.”

“we’ll.” 

he added too quickly for a man like him. he needed your massages after all– not the jets which, while comforting, did not come close enough to the way your hands worked.

you rolled your eyes playfully and smiled, “yes, yes, together.”

just then, the large television mounted on the porcelain-tiled wall turned on, drawing your attention. you turned your head to find nagi waving the remote with a subtle grin.

“wanna watch a movie and cuddle?”

𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗘 𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀 and baths go so well together because they are so silly. you can always find him at the shower control panel, playing with the settings until the outline of the tub glowed in ethereal colours of topaz and quartz and emerald.

also, the bath would inevitably become a sea of yellow rubber duckies because he thinks they're cute and they match his hair! he does leave the cleanup to you, though :(

besides, this man would be so indecisive when it comes to water temperature. one minute it’s icy cold, the next it’s scorching hot, only to swing to cold again because, well, he felt like it! the two of you would end up dancing in the water like goofs, splashing and kicking at each other because no one is watching you in your private yard– but you’re sure he’d do it in front of many eyes anyway.

one of his favourite games is to try and carry you on his back as he swims around the tub. despite your repeated warnings that he’d sink under the combined weight, he’d insist on trying, each attempt failing worse than the previous.

but the best part? even though you’re both naked, baths and showers with him were about anything but sexual. he sees you naked– okay? lovely! let’s see who could hold their breath the longest underwater.

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

[specshroom]

*°~There are many benefits to being a mage~°*

Includes: Fem reader x male orc, size kink, "human fetish", friends to more?

In which: Orc with a big problem confides in his mage friend who decides to help him out with a useful spell~🪄

You've been in this town for quite a while now, almost 3 years. That wasn't the original plan but It just so happened that this seaside town was more welcoming than many places you've been to on your travels. It sits at the coast of two major trade routes, connecting people of many different walks of life.

The friendliness and diversity you experienced allowed you to make a few friends you might not have otherwise.

Like the one you're sharing breakfast with right now. His name is Grimmok and he's the self-proclaimed, "Best fisherman in this damn town". He's your typical young, burley orc.

The first time you met him was in the local pub, you were intrigued when a crowd formed infront of the huge orc. He was dramatically telling one of his fisherman's tales and the small crowd hung onto his every word. He was a very good story teller and you happened to be very interested in folklore and myths. You made a habit of just walking up to him, if he didn't look busy and asking him to tell you a story. Soon it wasn't uncommon to see you sitting on the docks listening and writing intently as he waxes on about some old wives tale while repairing his nets.

Now you sit in his home, eating breakfast while he grumbles on about having to train a new fishing boy.

"The boy gets distracted by the smallest things, every time someone even resembling female walks past the docks he's panting like a dog." Grimmok bites into his ridiculously large breakfast sandwich signaling the end of his rant.

He did look more grumpy than usual when he opened the door to let you in for your weekly Sunday breakfast. His shoulder length black hair was tied into a hasty half up half down bun and his stubble looked more scruffy than usual. You can only huff in amusement at his troubles.

"Cmon, don't be too harsh on the kid. You did the same thing with Rosie Cotton, remember?"

The orc stills and huffs indignantly, scratching at his neck. This makes you grin.

"Mhm, you'd be telling me a story and then just stop in the middle of a sentence. I'd look up and sure enough there's Miss Rosie walking on by. Fiery hair flowing in the wind, cleavage spilling out her dress, swaying those hips and-"

Grimmok interrupts your overdramatic musing by flicking your pointy hat off your head.

"Hey!"

"You're acting like you didn't like looking at her too." The big guy grumbles almost like a child. He wipes his hands on his plaid pajama pants and picks up his empty plate, heading towards the sink.

You lean down to pick your hat off the floor, dust it off and mumble,

"Yeah, but I never got to bed her."

The dishes in the sink clatter a little too loudly as he tenses up. You hardly try to stifle your laugh.

"We didn't actually...she was...too small... For me to...." The orc struggles out as he wipes his plate clean.

It's quiet for a minute until you ask.

"But she did try, right? I'm pretty sure that counts, Grim."

The orc just grumbles something unintelligible. You want to sympathise with the poor guy but imagining Rosie Cotton, a "short stack" type of woman, trying to fit his massive green cock in her little pussy was pretty erotic.

"I want to feel bad for you mate but you kind of bring this on yourself. You obviously have a bit of a human fetish."

"It's not a-" The orc goes to defend himself but stops and just sighs when he realises it's no use.

"...and a size kink to boot." You mumble with toast in your mouth.

"I can't help it if I think horny humans trying desperately to take my cock is literally the hottest thing to me!" Grimmok finally lets the dam of sexual frustration burst after you've done a sufficient amount of poking at it. You always were good at getting him to actually talk about his problems.

"But the problem comes in when I actually have to fuck them, they can barely take half! How am I supposed to fuck them!? I'm too big! I'd kill them!"

You can't help but choke on your toast as a cackle forces itself from your throat. "Sorry. I'm sorry!" You struggle between snorts. Your big green friend just stands there with a grimace, arms crossed as he waits for you to finish.

You sigh and wipe your watering eyes. "Well, I'm glad you've confided in me because now I can help you." You wipe your hands clean and stand up from the orc sized table.

"You know that cool thing I can do with my hat?" You take your hat off and reach inside of it, the magic pocket space allowing you to reach your whole arm inside of it when you physically shouldn't be able to.

He nods sceptically still leaning against the sink, a bit concerned about where this is going. He thought by "help" you meant like you were going to pep talk him or something.

"We just have to do this but with...." You gesture down to your crotch.

Grim stands there, mouth slightly agape, blinking at you.

"I mean it's not exactly the same obviously." You pull your trusty spell book out of the hat before placing it back on your head while the pages of the spell book fly open to the page you want. "You basically draw this sigil on someone and then they'll be able to take whatever they can push inside no matter how big. Girth might still be an issue though..."

You explain this to him like you've explained many other spells, like you're reading him a recipe, deliberating what ingredients would work best. He doesn't even know how to react honestly.

"You're serious?"

You clap the book shut and adjust your hat on your head, smugly shrugging,

"This is what I do."

The poor guy just stumbles in disbelief.

"Magic, I mean.... Magic is what I do." You correct yourself a bit awkwardly and clear your throat, regaining your confidence.

"It's a pretty easy spell so we can try this whenever you want really."

"We?"

"Alright! Alright."

"Well yeah, unless you want me to go up to Rosie Cotton and say "Hey love, you mind if I put this sigil on your womb so my friend can finally pound your tight little-"

Grimmok rubs his face with his hands, sighing again and looking unsure. You lean against the sink next to him, barely coming up to his pecs.

"Look, it'll just be a one time thing so you can actually see if human pussy's all that and if you like it, I'm sure we can find plenty of humans who would love to try it out."

"...Alright. That sounds good."

You give a slap to his thick bicep and an encouraging "ata boy."

"and if you don't like this one, I'm sure I could find a spell that'll just make you..." He doesn't miss how you glance down at his crotch. "Smaller."

He huffs and pushes your shoulder playfully, he liked how you could always joke away the tension in any given situation. You walk up to the big wooden chair you were sitting at a second ago and pull it away from the table so that it's facing outward, struggling a bit as it's very much orc sized like most things in his house.

"Cmon. Sit."

You pat the chair, looking at him expectantly.

"Now?"

He's really not used to other people being so forward especially not when it's his mate. You shrug at him.

"Why not? I mean we can wait till you're ready, I don't mind. I have literally all day."

You put your hands behind your back and rock on your feet as you both just stand in his kitchen for about a minute...waiting. He eventually huffs and steels himself, fully committing to the idea and walking over to plop himself in the chair. He's going to put his dick inside one of his best mates.

You place your hat on the table so it doesn't get in the way of your activity and step in front of him. You levitate your spell book In front of you, looking down at the page with the sigil that's way more familiar than you're letting on.

"Okay, I'll face this way so it's less....personal." You turn around so your back is facing him. "You do still need to take off your pants though."

He smacks his teeth, "I figured that." He mumbles, pushing his soft pajama pants down to his mid thighs, immediately freeing his cock as he wasn't wearing underwear. He leaves his white long sleeve on, the sleeves folded to his elbows, giving you a perfect tease of his thick strong arms and multiple tattoos. When he looks back at you and sees that you've already disappeared your pants, he quickly looks away.

Sensing his nervousness you ask with a softer voice than before,

"can I sit?"

He clears his throat before grumbling a "Yeah."

You gently lean down and sit your naked ass onto his lap, legs open wide over his own you can see his half hard cock laying between his legs but try not to stare. Obviously Grimmock is a big guy but he's even big by orc standards so of course his cock is massive even when he isn't fully hard.

Grimmock clears his throat and jolts you out of your thoughts. You adjust a bit on top of him feeling his happy trail against your lower back. Your eyes skim the page levitating in front of you, when you finally find the incantation passage you straighten up and start chanting the ancient words in the text. Your eyes glow and the air feels static, Grim has seen magic before but the novelty never truly wears off.

An intricate shape starts to form right above your pubic bone, where your womb would be. The sigil glows brightly on your skin as Grim peers from above your head to look at it. At first glance he thinks it looks a bit demonic but then remembers he doesn't know anything about magic and decides not to mention it. When the sigil is complete you clap the book shut, immediately cutting off the static energy in the room and startling him in the process.

"That should do it."

You place the book on the table and lean back against his clothed chest, feeling the tension in his body not letting up.

"Damn, I can't believe little Miss Rosie took half of this. What a lass."

Your joke lightens the mood once again as Grimmock scoffs at you. Feeling him relax, you bring your hand down to finally touch the wetness that's been growing for awhile now. "We should still do some prep before you put it in. Is that alright?"

He nods and watches your hand disappear between your thighs. You readjust so that your boot clad feet are on either side of the chair rests. Opening yourself up to the air and to him, he can see you've already got two fingers pushing inside. He hesitates before reaching for his cock and slowly starting to stroke himself under you but it was painfully clear he was holding back.

"I know I'm not as short or.... endowed as Miss Cotton but I could put on a red wig if you'd like."

Grim huffed a laugh at the mental image of that.

"Oh wow~ Grimmie, you're soooo big and strong~"

You say in a high pitched voice (that doesn't sound anything like Rosie Cotton), using her embarrassing pet name while looking up at him and batting your eyelashes dramatically.

Grim scoffs and holds his hand over your mouth "Stop playing around." He tries to sound serious but his smile and the grumble in his chest betrays him. You laugh against his hand holding his wrist. You slowly pull his hand off your mouth and inch it gradually down your body giving him ample time to pull away. He doesn't and you move his hand to rub against your wet pussy ever so gently.

You're both looking into each other's eyes, this was not supposed to be so intimate but it doesn't look like he minds when he takes charge and slowly eases two fingers inside your aching pussy. His thick fingers stretch your pussy so good as you lightly buck into his hand, greedy pussy already hungry for more. The way he's looking down at you with so much need gets you so hot inside. A heat that only increases when he starts pumping his fingers in and out. Grim works you open with one hand and pumps his fat cock with the other.

This entire situation has you pent up and impatient so you pull his hand away and sit up, "I can take it now." He can't help but groan at your words but remains concerned at the perceived lack of prep. Whenever he fools around with humans most of the engagement is spent just doing prep so he's more than a little worried, "Are you sure?"

You don't reply as you gently take his fully hard cock from his hand, holding it up against your stomach to see how far inside you this thing could go. You both groan at the comparison between his ridiculously massive dick and your body, he reaches way past your belly button and into your stomach. Definitely more than a human could safely take. You adjust your legs so that you're almost squatting on his lap, your feet plant on the seat on either side of his hips.

You support yourself with your hand resting on the seat between his legs and lift yourself so you can rub your wetness along the length of his cock. He brings his rough hands to hold your hips gently, not applying pressure but just resting there so he can have something to hold.

You lift yourself up until his tip is in-line with your entrance, slowly rubbing it against your clit. You both groan lightly when the tip pops in and you slowly ease yourself down his cock. He's amazed at how easy your cunt swallows him. You pause half way down to adjust and give a few pumps to the rest of him before your hand leaves his cock to settle next to your other hand on the chair in front of you. He squeezes your hips a little in silent concern and you smile before easing the rest of him in, gently descending until you reach the hilt. Your pubes kiss his and he can't help but let out a weak moan at the sight and feeling of you taking all of him. Finally feeling tight walls grip the entire length of his cock has him reeling. You're overwhelmed as well, It's been a while since you've taken someone this big.

You slowly circle your hips around so that you really feel his cock against your walls deep inside you, you're obviously very pleased with yourself. Grim is seeing stars, eyes shut, head tilted back, trying to regain himself even a little while his literal dreams are coming true.

"Well, we know it works. I guess that's it then." You move to lift yourself off his cock as if your work is done.

"Nononono, Please no. Please."

Comes Grim's hasty but soft displeasure, both his thick arms circle around your waist to keep you in place as he leans against your back, head resting on your shoulder.

"What's the matter big guy?" You lean into his chest, stroke his arm and turn your head to look at him. He huffs, you know exactly what's the matter. He takes a deep breath and lifts his head to look at you.

"I need you."

Your heart jumps in your chest.

"I need you to fuck me...please."

You look up at him, wide eyes, mouth agape as he looks back down at you. The moment is almost sweet until your mouth forms into an evil grin and you snicker softly, a dreadfully familiar mischievous glint in your eyes. Grim closes his eyes and almost regrets all the choices that lead him here.

"Riiight~. I almost forgot, this is probably the first time you've actually been able to fuck someone sooo much smaller than you."

"Poor guy, you must be so pent up, huh?"

You reach down to gently hold his massive ballsack, making him suck in a breath and twitch his thighs.

All he can do is let out a choked moan of your name which only makes you chuckle.

"I can really play the part for you, if you'd like. Y'know the, "Ah, your so deep!" and "You're filling this human pussy up so good!""

You laugh when you feel his dick twitch. Poor Grim can only grip your waist and try to keep his hot face from getting hotter. He looks down at you with pleading eyes and you decide you're not so evil after all. You pat his arms and move them so he's holding your waist. He startles a little when you playfully kiss him on the cheek.

"I've got you big guy."

You lean forward again with your feet under you and start to lift yourself up very slowly until the top of his cock is juuust about to pop out. Your thighs burn as you stay there for a few seconds, teasing Grim and yourself. Grim thinks he might actually cry if you don't move.

Suddenly you grip the edge of the chair and force yourself down hard on his cock, taking him all the way to the hilt in one hard thrust. You both groan very loudly, he downright yelps with the sudden movement. You grip the chair and clench around him so hard he can't help the way he grips your waist tightly. One hand covers his mouth as he tips his head back and tries to not cum immediately. He tries to regain his breathing but you have other plans. You can feel him twitch inside you and a desperate need to be filled engulfs you.

You start thrusting up and down on his dick, moving your whole body up and down his length. It's a good thing he can't see your face because you are enjoying this way too much. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you bite your lip, the sensation of being filled to the literal brim is intoxicating. You work yourself and him so diligently, it's no time before your thrusts become more frantic and you're right at the peak. With one final deliberate thrust you cum hard around him, clenching and unclenching like you're trying to milk him dry.

You both moan freely now, though his are more like growls. Your pulsing walls quickly lead him to his own climax, holding you close to his chest and thrusting up into your cunt, spilling hot seed deep inside your womb. You shake and squirm even more with the blissful feeling of your walls being coated with his spend.

After a few moments of you two spasming and twitching you eventually ease up and fall limply against his chest, adjusting your thighs to rest on top of his again. You breathe out a long sigh and bask in the fullness of your cunt, stroking your stomach up and down.

You're blissfully unaware of the knowing smirk that grows on his face. He cards his fingers through his hair, composing himself a little more. His warm hand joins yours in caressing up and down the expanse of your stomach and chest, loving how small you feel in his hold.

"You've done this before." His voice comes out in a low growl that makes you shiver, not expecting it. You crane your head up to see him smirking down at you and all you can do is sit and stare. He chuckles deeply,

"There ain't no way, this is your first time taking a cock this size."

You stumble for words but none come out. His hands caress your thighs and one hand comes up to gently hold your jaw. He leans down really close to your face.

"You're a size queen."

You suck in a breath and your pussy clenches involuntarily around his cock which you only noticed now hasn't gone down at all. Grim laughs louder this time.

"I should've known the second you pulled out that spellbook."

You sit there, quite embarrassed at being caught. You smack his hand away from your waist.

"Shut up, you're the one with the-"

"Yes, we both know about my kinks, you teased me about it enough which is very hypocritical of you."

Grim is just loving the way you fluster and fumble for words right now.

"Oh, so you don't have a thing for inhumanly huge cock?"

He challenges and uses both his hands to bring your naked thighs to your chest, exposing your pussy, leaking with his seed.

"So you don't like the way I stretch and fill this little human pussy?"

You can't help but whine at his dirty words and the position he's binding you into. His cock adjusting inside of you, hitting a new spot.

"If you don't, I guess I could just pull out and-"

"Nonononono... Grim Cmon."

You frantically babble your disagreement, shaking your head. He chuckles again, very pleased with himself at turning the tables on you but thankfully for you he's not as evil as you are and his dick is still painfully hard.

"Alright Darlin, I'll take care of you."

He lifts himself from the chair, leaving a puddle of both of you when he stands. He comforts your whines when he pulls out to set you ass up on the table and just stands at the edge, one hand on his hip and the other leisurely stroking his cock.

You look back at him with confusion, expecting him to just fuck you over the table already.

"If you ask nicely."

He says looking real smug, you sigh in defeat and turn your body so that you're facing him. You disappear the rest of your clothes, leaving you stark naked on the large kitchen table you were just eating breakfast at. That realisation makes him pump his cock harder.

You press your knees as close to your chest as possible and bring your hands down to your puffy, leaking pussy. You spread your folds for him with your fingers and say, as sexily as you can manage.

"Please fuck me Grim."

Grim is so fucking floored, he's cursing himself for not thinking of doing this sooner. He sighs and pumps his cock harder, lining the leaking tip up to your pussy lips. He eases it inside and the new position makes for a new sensation for both of you as different spots are brushed and tension melts away. Once he's balls deep again he gently worms his arm underneath your back to lift you up with ease. You wrap your arms around his neck for support being mindful not to pull his hair. Suddenly you're face to face, looking into his eyes for the first time since you started.

You look into his dark eyes and they relax you, this is your best friend, you trust him. His eyes leave yours to stare at your parted lips. When he sees that familiar quirk on your lips he looks back to your eyes, catching the mischievous glint. You lean closer so that your noses are just brushing against eachother. You feel his breath hitch when your lips meet his. He spares no time getting into it and moves his lips against yours. You make out while he adjusts your body in his hold, one hand on your ass and the other on your waist.

He then, without warning, lifts you up and brings you down hard thrusting the whole length of his cock into you in one hearty thrust. You break from the sloppy kiss for a moment to groan out in absolute ecstasy, loving the way he takes the lead from you effortlessly. He brings down your whole body to meet his upwards thrusts. The way he's basically using your entire body like a fleshlight makes you embarrassingly horny.

It feels like it's been years since you were fucked like this, the way your body is reacting, so sensitive you're sure you could cum again any minute. This is exasperated greatly when he brings you closer to his chest with one arm locked around you so that he can worm his other hand in-between you two and rub at your engorged clit.

You grab at his wrist as he frantically works you to your climax, you basically scream when you finally reach that high. Clenching and shaking on his cock while he holds you up with his buff arms. You cling into him so tightly, getting drool on his shirt. You even squirt a little, getting your wetness all over his cock and the floor. Your intense climax once again has him reeling. The sight of you clinging onto him, squirting and losing yourself on his cock makes his balls clench painfully as his frantic thrusts turn faster and sloppier. He reaches his climax as he holds you close, groaning into your neck, pumping another thick load deep into you.

You both stay like that for a while, coming down from your respective highs. Your fingers slowly unclench from his shirt moving down to lazily caress his chest, feeling it move with his breaths as you rest your head on his shoulder.

He slowly manoeuvres your legs so he can sit back down on the chair, holding you to his chest. His hand strokes down your back as you both soak in the warm, tranquil after glow. His breathing evens out to a steady rhythm and your eyes flutter closed.

Knock knock knock

You both jolt awake and stare at each other wide eyed and then at the front door, which is very much visible from the kitchen. You both stay quiet and he holds you closer to hide your fully naked body if the rude intruder somehow manages to break the door down.

Knock knock knock

"Uhh Mr Grimmock Sir?"

The tension in Grim's body sags when he hears who's on the other side of the door. A hand goes to massage his impending migraine.

"BOY! What do you want?!"

You can imagine the way the poor fishing boy cringes at the anger in Grim's voice.

"Sorry Sir, I was wondering if you could give me some extra lessons on the boat?"

Grim growls in frustration, you chuckle in amusement and start kissing up his neck which settles him down a little.

"Tomorrow lad, it's Sunday."

"But I was-"

"Tomorrow."

The finality in his tone seems to get through to the young man as he mutters an "Alright Sir, see you then." Before walking off, his steps getting lighter and lighter.

"He doesn't want to work all week but suddenly he wants to work on Sunday?!"

Grim's irritation is clear as he gestures to the door incredulously. You can't help but laugh at the orcs misfortune. You settle your arms around his broad shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as his hand begins to stroke down your back again.

"Thank you for...helping out"

He says, quite genuinely.

"Anytime."

You throw him a thumbs up and he has to laugh and shake his head at the award winning nonchalance. When the amusement fades though he leans forward in the chair and brings his hands lower to cup your ass cheeks.

"Anytime?"

You can feel his soft cock gradually hardening inside your pussy and you look up at him in utter disbelief.

"Unbelievable."

You shake your head and chastise him but the smile that breaks on your face rats you put. He grins and lifts you up, walking out of the kitchen. His mouth marks up your neck and his stubble tickles, dull tusks dig into the sensitive skin.

"Just unbelievable."

You mutter to yourself again as your legs hug around his waist tighter and you feel his cum dripping out of your hole, leaving a trail all the way to his bedroom.

[shrenvents]

Spellbound

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, oral, cunnilingus, unprotected, fluff, some violence, biting

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Witch reader

Summary: You're a witch with a specific skill set, one that has intrigued a certain hybrid.

Word count: 2.7k

...

Voodoo. Magic. Impulse. Obsession.

She was his newest fascination.

He heard her laughter cracking through the walls of the barren bar before it cut short. Klaus observed how the sunlight blazed across her, poorly parked, car. His lips slanted in mild amusement. He told himself, that’s all it was, all she was. Mild amusement for an immortal. Though, something felt different.

He strutted into the place, head hung high as he scanned the bare vicinity. His eyes halted on a man behind the bar, rinsing glass cups. The bartender's eyes adverted from Klaus, the second he caught his stare. The man's nerves were duly noted as Klaus approached him.

“I’ll have a glass of your finest red,” Klaus spoke artfully, with a fake smile plastered on his face. The worker shuddered. “Ug- we’re not serving right now.”

“No worries mate,” his mellifluous voice paused. “The red I fancy isn’t something I’d find on your menu.” The man's gaze shot up to Klaus’s. His lips trembled as Klaus continued his jest. “Unless you intend to provide me with a bite, I suggest you tell me where she’s hidden.” Klaus’s threat echoed through the building, till silence took its place.

Suddenly, the sound of a back door, opening and slamming shut jolted Klaus away from the bartender. He instantly raced to the door, ripping it open. He watched as her frame scattered into her rusted car. He growled. There was no way he'd let her escape once again...

Your body was convulsing with anxiety. Who were you to know a little magic truce with the “other side,” would have a certain hybrid on your front doorstep. It didn’t help when you levitated everything in your apartment at him, including your freshly made spaghetti with bolognese. It was to be expected, that would piss him off...

Yanking the car door shut, you forced the key in and started the engine.

“Where are we headed this time darling?”

“Ahhh!” You screamed, snapping your head to the uninvited passenger. Klaus sat leisurely beside you, and you swear your life flashed before your eyes. “I must say, I enjoyed our time in Chicago. Perhaps San Fran may be the next best thing, love.” His smug face adorned your features, absorbing the way your face contorted in both fear and frustration.

“Jesus,” you huff, and Klaus’s smirk grows. “As much as I love the idea, somehow becoming your personal chauffeur isn’t that appealing.” Klaus chuckles lowly, leaning in, more and more.

“Well, if you hadn’t decided to run off, you crafty little thing," he drawls sweetly, "We wouldn’t have the pleasure.”

“If you weren’t trying to kill me, maybe I’d stick around.” Klaus’s brows twist like he's appalled by your words. “Who said I was interested in killing you?”

“You- I- then, what do you want?” You stammer. Klaus went quiet. You watched as his expression goes blank, before he acts as though he was in deep thought. Then, his mouth gaped in 'awe,' as if the answer suddenly came to him. “Your talents of course.”

“My talents.” You repeat, baffled.

“Yes, do keep up, my dear.”

“Why? You could have any witch at your disposal, at a moment's notice.”

The corner of his lips elevate once more. “I’m flattered.”

He’s become so close now, you feel his breath, and you try not to shiver as it grazes your neck. He, on the other hand, basks in your scent.

“But, unlike my other witches, you have a gift,” he muses. “Your connection with the dead is something to behold, and something I crave.”

After a prolonged silence, you speak. “If I help you with whatever," you move further into your seat, "When it comes to an end, you’ll let me walk away, unscathed?” Your brow quirks, and with every fibre of your being, you manage to maintain eye contact. “Yes, you have my word.” Klaus’s expression went stoic, holding an unflinching seriousness that made your heart rate stutter. And strangely, you knew you could trust him.

That's how you ended up as his lackey. For the past 5 weeks, you were at his beck and call as he tormented humans, werewolves, and vampires alike.

Like any other day, your conscious is eating away at you, as you call upon another ancestor of those he plagues. Today though, you finally broke. He had been cruelly punishing a guy for hours, as you questioned his late brother through the veil.

“That’s enough!” Klaus’s eyes dart to yours, and his angry appearance softens. Instinctively, he grips your forearm and drags you out of the motel room.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

“What's wrong is that I’m tired, and his brother is telling me jack shit about those ‘hunters.’” You huff, closing your eyes.

Klaus firmly presses himself stock-still, resisting every urge that wishes to devour you, as you naively allow him to hold you so close, let your guard down, and close your eyes. Such an urge that has only worsened, and become insatiable since you started your venture together…

“Love, why don’t you grab a bite from the cafe across the street, while I fill up the car's tank?” He says heartfeltly, "That way we both can have a break."

Your eyes flutter open, and you nearly tremble at the gentle look that flickers in his gaze. However, his body language, which clutches you tightly, suggests he is anything but. “Okay.”

After five minutes alone in a booth, you gather up the last of the courage you were trying to dispel. Now, heading back to the rented room, to release the hostage. Stupid, very stupid, you think. But you can’t help it.

When you enter the room, the door slowly creaks shut, and shadows engulf you. It’s too quiet, and you can’t see the hostage. Unease fills your system, and you begin to regret this decision. That impending regret soon became alarms going off, when the captive grabs your torso, roughly caging your arms. His grip is inescapable, and when you try to scream, his free hand covers your mouth.

“You fucking bitch,” he murmurs with disgust, and you wince. “How about I leave you bleeding out here, all laid out for you bloodthirsty master.” The man crackles with humourless laughter. “I’m sure he’d appreciate that.”

While his venomous words made you cower, you relentlessly struggle against him, fighting with all that you could muster. Unfortunately, your captor was a werewolf, and far too strong for you to at least break free, to cast a spell.

He muffles Klaus’s name with his palm, and tears prick your eyes. Even after the numerous times you’d bicker and argue, he was still the first person who came to mind, who you hopelessly called out to.

The man began lifting your body towards the door, urgently turning the knob. Just as the outside light cuts into your vision, you're wrenched from him, pulled into a powerful embrace. With ease, Klaus’s arms carry you away, swiftly placing you in the backseat of your car, locked safely inside.

His figure then disappears just as quickly, and you hear your aggressor's voice wail in pain. Shaking, you curl over yourself, covering both ears pathetically.

After what feels like an eternity, two large hands cup your tear-stained cheeks, bringing you out of your shell. He quiets you, as he slides inside the vehicle, smoothly pulling you onto his lap. One of his arms supports your back, while the other strokes your hair. Calming you down, he mutters things like: 'Everything’s fine now love,' 'I’m here,' 'I’ll take care of you...'

“I’ve never felt so helpless,” you mumble.

He shakes his head. “There’s nothing you could've done to stop a werewolf, especially when a full moon draws near,” he soothes. You press your cheek further into his broad chest. “Though, I wish you would’ve just listened to me for once, and stayed put.”

You shoot your head up, adjusting to face him, close enough that your noses nearly meet. “If I listened to you, I’d probably be dead by now.”

“Oh really?” He grins, eyes creasing, “How so?”

“Well, for one, that time you ordered me to question that vampire chick's dead boyfriend about his affair, right in front of her.” Klaus guffaws. “You're laughing, but she would've bit my head off.”

“She wouldn’t have,” he denies, still chuckling.

“Yes, she would have Klaus.” You start to laugh too.

“You know, I wouldn’t have let her.” His face deadpans, “Like I didn’t let our were-friend hurt you," he voices, airily. "I gave you my word.”

“Yes, of course, your word.” You giggle nervously, glancing at the hand currently bracing your thigh, gliding its thumb back and forth. “It’s not all that I’ve given you.”

You look up and are met with a mysterious look this time. Your brows furrow in confusion. He smiles dreamily, “Your skills as a witch truly know no bounds.”

“The hell are you talking about now?” You retort, making Klaus laugh loudly.

“I’m talking about your spell," he whispers. "The one that has bewitched me.”

You freeze, heart dropping.

“You don’t mean that...” Your sentence trails off as Klaus stares through you.

He’s so unpredictable, that a part of you believes he's most likely playing some sick game. But, there was also a possibility that he meant it, and all the hidden desires, for your unconventional boss, were about to bubble to the surface.

“I've meant every word, from the moment I met you, when you got the better of me.” He smirks, breath fanning your face. “Witchcraft.”

Then his lips take yours, slow at first, but the entanglement shortly turns desperate. Slightly hesitant, you grind on him, eager to pull him closer. He groans, and his hands enthusiastically roam your waist and back, beckoning you nearer.

Moving in a frenzy, as your fingers tangle in his locks, you swing your leg to straddle him. He moans your name in between kisses, and palms your ass.

Continuously rolling your body into him, makes you feel his arousal, causing a whine to escape. When your lips break apart, his mouth runs down your jaw, to your neck. You gasp, but you don’t stop him. He audibly tells you how much he’s enjoying himself, and you squeeze your thighs over his.

“I can only imagine how sinful you taste here darling.” He remarks as his hand slides over your core, and you whimper. “How about you let me try?” He hums politely. “You know you want me to.”

“No,” you huff.

“No?” His voice rises questioningly, and a hand gropes your chest, while the other grips your chin, tilting your head down to peer into his eyes. “Not here,” you finish, and he smirks wildly.

“Then, I’ll just have to get us a private room?” He purrs seductively into you ear, making you shiver. “One that is, unoccupied,” he rolls his tongue, and you shiver again at the double meaning behind his words. You don’t even want to think about what he did to your assailant…

“Please,” you sigh into a kiss, pecking his lips, which seems to surprise Klaus momentarily. His surprise briskly turns into a beaming smile. “To be continued,” he utters before shifting you off him, and rushing out the car.

Not long after, Klaus reappears with that same childlike cheer gracing his features. Jerking the door open, he outstretches his hand like a gentleman. You accept it, and his palm completely envelops yours. He tugs you to his hip, and nibbles on your earlobe while you walk to a random room.

As soon as the door locks behind you, he presses himself against your backside. “Now, how about that taste?” He mutters while lifting your hair to kiss your nape, and rubbing himself against you. You press closer, before spinning around to enclose your mouth on his again. He groans into your mouth approvingly, backing your body toward the queen-size bed.

His lips free yours when your back legs hit the edge, and you fall backwards with a yelp. His hands soon make work of your lower half, removing your clothes as he kneels infront of your cunt. You inhale deeply, as cool air hits your bare body.

He goes silent, so you raise your head to peek at him. Klaus ogles you heatedly, like the predator he is. “Lovely,” he sing-songs.

He abruptly grips your thighs and heaves your core to his mouth, so close, his breath warms your skin. “K-Klaus.”

“Hmmm,” he hums shortly, before delving into you. You sob a cry of shock. His tongue expertly runs over your folds, sucking the nub with such a slow deliberation, like he can’t decide how he wishes to take you at first, as if he’s imagined every which way he could.

You whine, motioning him to make his choice, bucking up, feeling his stubble scratch you. Then he grows aggressive, hungrily lapping your clit, over and over, until he ushers out your orgasm.

When your lengthy climax finishes, he moves to sigh pleasantly into the crook of your neck. “You’re incredible,” he emits with a chant of your name, thoroughly relaxing your shaking form.

“Fuck, take off your clothes,” you beg. He immediately abides by your command, tearing off his shirt and pants. You grab his necklaces to haul his lips to yours. You savour every inch of yourself on his tongue, and he relishes in how dirty the act is.

“There’s only so much I can do before dawn, and it won't nearly be enough to satisfy my hunger for you.” His poetic words erupt something within. You exhale, “It seems you’re going to break your promise then.”

He stills at your words, befuddled. You elaborate, “There’s no way I’m coming out of this unscathed.” A timid smile spreads across your face, and he almost nods in understanding, feeling a strange quiver in his chest.

Wordlessly, he pulls himself from his slacks, and you take off the last of your clothes. Suddenly feeling a little out of body, you decide to take back some control of the situation. So, you flip your positions, once again, surprising Klaus, though he allows it.

You straddle him, and lower yourself onto his thick cock. You whimper the second the tip enters, and he growls, pressing his fingertips into your hips, definitely leaving bruises.

“You’re too big,” you gasp.

“You can handle it, sweetheart,” he states mindlessly. He wraps his arms around your waist and arms, pulling you down onto him. His hips press completely into you, pushing himself inside to the hilt. A wheeze leaves your lungs as he grounds into you. “Klaus, it’s too-“

“It’s perfect,” he finishes for you. You barely have any time to adapt to his size before he begins pounding. Pleasure wracks through you, and he takes whatever control you had away. His pace is unnerving, and you utter incoherent words, while his fangs graze your neck.

“Tell me,” he groans through his panting. “Tell me you want me.” He demands, though it almost sounds like he’s begging for it. “I-I want you.” The words stumble out as his thrusts reach your center.

“More,” he just about whines.

“I want you Klaus,” you shout. “You feel so good- fuck I’ve always wanted this, you.” You ramble, egged on by him. He loves it, and you feel it in his strength. He holds you tighter, and the air abandons your body.

Feeling his leg tremble, you know he’s close. “Bite me.” His clamped-shut eyelids pop open, and his dark pupils bore into yours. You kiss him, and take his bottom lip between your teeth. “Bite me while you cum,” you command.

He gulps before taking his last few pumps into you. He moans into your neck as his teeth puncture your flesh. You cry out at the mixture of pain and pleasure that shatters you both.

After almost 10 minutes, he releases you from his firm caress and kisses the holes in your neck.

Still inside, he turns you both on your sides. You catch your breath. “How are you still hard?” You sigh in exasperation, and he chuckles breezily. “I told you, you’ve bewitched my very soul darling.” He smirks.

“This is only the beginning.”

If you enjoyed this, i'm currently writing a klaus fanfic! it’ll be posted on my wattpad @ shrenvents <33

[washeduphazbin]

Hi, I would like to ask for a smut from Adam x fem Reader, his dear wife is going to pay him a visit at his work and in the end they almost get paid for lute

New Eve (Adam x Fem! Wife! Reader)

-SMUT AHEAD MINORS DNI-

Other warnings: Adam Being Adam

I hope I wrote this ask and understood it correctly! Adam is my guilty pleasure. I love men who are dumb as rocks and who are going to be absolutely leashed by even stronger women.

REQUESTS OPEN

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

There's a saying that all good things come in threes, Lilith, Eve, and you. Adam's final wife, who physically couldn't be swayed by Lucifer because Adam had met you in Heaven. When you passed through the pearly gates, you were greeted by none other than the first human himself. You were in awe for about two seconds until you quickly gathered the first man was a complete and utter dickhead. He seemed to falter when you walked past him to greet an angel named Lute, Adam's second in command. She tensed a little as you introduced yourself, ignoring Adam's protests that dubbed you a Queen Mega Bitch.

All this to say, it took about three months before Lute caught Adam sticking his tongue down your throat with you latched onto him like a koala. You made a distressed sound at being caught while listening to Adam laugh above you. You distinctly heard him call your mouth as good as a vagina while pressing a kiss to your hairline. "Adam!" You hissed, pulling on the horns of his mask as he let out a defiant sound, "Inappropriate."

"Ugh yeah, that's kind of my thing, sugar tits."

"You need to not make it your thing, or this thing doesn't happen." You drew your line in the metaphorical sand before marching out of the room, faintly hearing Lute argue about Adam's behavior behind you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Two years later, you were Adam's new 'Eve' in heaven with two golden rings to prove the love that formed between the two of you...somehow. Did the both of you fight constantly? Yes. Did you want to wring his neck every time he opened the gaping hole he called a mouth? Also Yes. But did you love him...unfortunately. Even though he had a laundry list of bad habits, a vulgar mouth, and gross hobbies, he had his moments. He was protective, fiercely so, and despite his fuck boy personality, he only had his sights set on you. Lute often asked you what you saw in Adam, and you'd reluctantly sigh and give a tired grin, "He makes me laugh. Plus, with proper motivation, he's putty in my hand." Lute made a sound of understanding, nodding her head,

"Ah, yes. Use your feminine wiles to control those weaker than you, even if they may be physically stronger. We must use what we are given as women. Well, you must. I'm very strong without using that to my advantage."

"Yes, exactly," You snickered as Lute stopped outside Adam's office. "Which is exactly why Sera put me in charge of convincing Adam to meet with The Morningstar's daughter." You groaned, rubbing the bridge of your nose, "I'll see you back here later, then?"

"Yes, ma'am." Lute bowed, "I wish you luck...you'll need it. He's in one of his moods." before taking off into the sky and down the hall. You reached up with a stretch of your arms, fluffing up your wings to look extra pretty before knocking on Adam's door,

"Adam." You hummed, knocking on the grand marble door once before opening it. You leaned against the entranceway, wings brushing against the floor, as his head shot up.

"Sugartits!"

"Not my name!" You dodged Adam's hug with a flurry of your wings; he grinned, shoving the door closed with his hip. "Adam," you said in warning as he used his angelic magic to fly towards you and trap you within his arms.

"and what would you prefer I call you? My Bitch? Wifey?" He mused, peppering sloppy kisses against your cheek and down your neck. "We could go with Queen or Goddess, preferably." You shot back, dragging Adam down to sit in his chair; you hummed gently, removing his mask from his face. He leaned back, kicking his legs up on the desk as you slid down into his chest, straddling his hips. You hummed, running your fingers through his brown hair, and he melted into your touch, "My name works, too."

"I guess we can settle on Queen. Does that make me your King?" Adam preened as you scratched under his chin,

"Without a doubt...but we must talk about the Young Morningstar."

"Who?" He made a faux confused face which you raised an eyebrow back at in response, "Ugh, Lucifer's cunt daughter. What about her?"

"She's been begging for a meeting. I suggest you meet with her." Your lips began to trail down his neck, nipping at his skin as his body flushed.

"But that's so much work, sugar." He groaned, running his clawed hands through your hair, "Can't I just say fuck off back to hell we're gonna exterminate all of you regardless."

"Sera wants you to at least meet with her one time; she's giving you a lot of trust to handle this on your own."

"And if I do what you ask, what'll you give me?" He mused, eyes sparkling. You huffed, hitting him with the back of your wing, and he laughed, "Come on, you gotta sweeten the deal for me, mama."

"You're such a bastard." You huffed, moving to pull your hair out of your face. He moved his legs to the ground, and you could slide between his knees. "Robe off unless you want dirty," you commanded as Adam fumbled out of it quickly.

"I love you~" He leaned back with a sly grin, hand reaching up to move your head closer to his lip. Your fingers spread across his thighs, and you huffed softly, looking up at him.

"I love you more. If I do this for you, you promise to meet with young Lady Morningstar?"

"You can't just fuck me because you love me?"

"Bite me." You sneered, but there wasn't any malice in your voice as he stood up, picking you up off the ground and pressing your back against his desk.

"Oh, it would be my pleasure. I can't say your robes will survive, though I might need to get you some new ones." Adam popped the buttons on your robe, allowing your body to be laid bare for his eyes. He watched your breathing hitch as his long claw trailed down your neck to your chest. "Fuck I love these puppies, you know that?" Adam grinned, grabbing fistfuls of your breasts, squeezing and kneading to his heart's content. Your husband was like an oversized golden retriever. When he sees something he likes, he obsesses over it like a man deranged. His favorite playthings of yours were your tits and ass. "Any meetings?"

"None. I'm yours for the rest of the day. You can mark me how you'd like; I'm yours, my husband. Well, until you meet with the Princess."

"Fuckkkkk yeah, baby, come 'ere." Adam dove between your breasts, and he felt you suck in air through your teeth. He began to bite and suck on the supple flesh of your chest; you keened, arching into his mouth, hands tangling in his brown hair. You could tell from the way his teeth would graze against your nipples and your flesh he was doing everything in his power to leave marks on the skin.

"Adam...ngh." You panted, feeling his hand move down from your breast to slide down your stomach and between your legs. "Shit," You squeaked, feeling him tease your clit with his thumb and forefinger with a dopey grin on his face.

"There's my favorite girl," He flicked your nub skillfully; for being a massive asshole, this prick sure knew where to find your clit. One finger slid between your folds, and you tossed your head against the cold marble desk. "Damn, only one finger has you acting up? I must not be treating you good enough," He purred as another finger entered you, stretching you out to be big enough for, 'the first ever man god created.' Adam watched with delight as your wings spread out and trembled, glowing with a soft golden glow. "That's it, you're being such a good girl for me. Are you ready?"

"Yes." You panted, "Adam, please."

"God, you beg so nicely, you little slut," His hand reached up to grip your throat, causing you to let out a desperate whine, hips bucking into his fingers. "Beg Harder," He demanded, moving your hand to palm him through his trousers, stiff and aching. "Look at how hard you make me. How desperate. I need you to worship your god."

"Yes, sir." You purred, "You're my God, Adam. I need you, I'd worship for your love, your touch, your dick." You dragged your hand up your chest, playing with the swell of your own breast, "Don't you want to make me happy, baby?"

"More than anything." Adam's eyes lit up in elation, "Stay with me. Don't go to Lucifer. You're mine." He snarled, hands around your throat, "Say it."

"I'm with you. Only you. Forever Adam." His entire body seemed to relax when you said that, pressing gentle kisses to your cheek and lips. "I love you, you annoying Dickweed."

"Love you more, Sugartits." He grinned cheekily before lowering himself to you with a hiss-like laugh. "Tight as ever, and that's why I love you,"

"If you keep talking nonsense while you're literally inside me, I'll cut off your dick,"

"Sounds kinky."

"Adam."

"Fine, Fine, you're so vanilla." He mused, albeit his tone was much softer, fonder than his earlier teasing. His hands grabbed under your knees and pressed you close with a snap of his hips. You both let out a moan, yours higher pitched and needier, bucking your hips, searching for more friction than he was currently providing. You always savored the way he was able to fill you up, he wasn't the longest but god was he thick filling you in all the right ways. Every time his hips snapped into you, you could feel just how deep he kissed your cervix. "Yeah, you like that?" He panted, "Like how deep I'm getting? From the way you're dripping, you're practically soaking through my table. Your vag is like a vice, babe, so tight for this big cock."

"Hm. Your words always know how to turn me o-ng-ff." You moaned out this end at a particularly sharp thrust of his hips. "Fuck you," You panted as he grinned down at you,

"Good news, wifey, that's exactly what we're doing-"

"Sir!" You let out a scream as Lute slammed the door of his office open, you climbed against Adam's body like an embarrassed Nun. He groaned, still inside you but having the decency to cover you with his wings.

"What do you need, Lute? I'm a little busy getting it on with my sexy ass wife." Adam complained, motioning to the top of your head, to which you made an embarrassed sound of mortification. "Can this be rescheduled or-"

"The Princess of Hell is here, Sir. She just showed up-"

"Are you for real telling me that the bitch Princess of Hell is seriously cucking me right now?!"

"...Yes."

"(Y/n) If I killed her for interrupting us, would you be pissed?"

"Beyond Adam."

"Fuck."

[miniimight]

I need more dad Sukuna and mom reader fics / headcsnons, I love the way you wrote for them!!

hey anon thank you! i'm thinking about making this a series, if you guys have any ideas/requests/prompts lmk <3

PICKING UP BABY FROM SCHOOL oops, toddlers can't ride motorcyles! (dad!sukuna x mom!reader)

sukuna rolled up about twenty minutes before his daughter's school got out, deploying the kickstand of his pitch black motorcycle against the rainbow colored fencing. he pulled off his helmet, sighing deeply when he met fresh air again.

his phone buzzed against his thigh. he pulled it out of his tight cargo pocket, answering immediately when he saw your caller ID. "hey, doll."

"you got there okay?" you asked.

"mhm."

"and you're on the right side of the building? that's where her class comes out."

"mhm."

"great." you exhaled. "m'sorry i couldn't make it this time—"

"stop." he says gruffly, his phone between his shoulder and ear as he pulls off his gloves. "what are you sorry for, silly girl? you're sick and should rest."

he doesn't mind anything when it comes to his two girls, not the fifteen minute commute to her school or the half hour of waiting just to get a parking spot nice and close to the doors.

your laugh was warbled over the phone. "at least the car is air conditioned. it's been getting warmer lately."

"..." he looked down at his bike.

"ryo, baby?" you hummed.

"hm?"

"you did take the car, right?"

"..."

his silence was all you needed to hear. he tuned out your worried rambling about how the hell is your daughter going to get home on that thing in order to process. toddlers don't usually use motorcycles as a mode of transportation... and he should've thought of this before!

"it'd be fine if i had an extra seat." he mused, debating on how he could manage this situation without having to call you to get them.

"an extra seat?! not even an extra helmet?" you shrieked. "baby, i swear, if you're actually thinking about driving with my baby girl on that thing—"

"relax, doll," he grumbled, pushing down the traces of embarrassment burning at his ears. "the brat will be fine, s'just a couple blocks away. she can handle the wind."

"..."

the bell rang and the doors swung open, children pouring out of the hallway and buzzing around in search of their parents.

"she's out, we'll see you soon." he was about to hang up when he heard,

"i'm literally about to come get you, do NOT go anywhere."

he frowns, his eyes scouring the crowd of midgets for his kid. he didn't mean to make you so upset and worried. he just... overlooked important details sometimes. not his fault, he's trying his best :(

"y/n, you will sit your ass down in bed. when i come home, you better be laying down exactly how i left you." he warned. he heard your breath hitch. "you trust me, don't you, baby?"

"yes... unfortunately."

he nodded. "we'll be home soon."

"in one piece?"

he rolled his eyes, grumbling. "yes, woman."

"hm." you huffed and hung up.

he strolled into the compound. as soon as he saw those pretty eyes that creased happily when they landed on him, he smiled and crouched down.

she ran over to him, her backpack jostling behind her. she held up a painting she made. "daddy, look!"

"i see." he pulled her closer, holding the backpack off her back and letting her walk off it. he slung the bedazzled bratz backpack over his shoulder, lifting her up in his arms. "what is it?"

"for mama."

"oh. all your crafts seem to be for mama. still nothing for me." he complained with a drawn out sigh.

she rolled her eyes, and he swore he was looking at you for a second.

"don't roll your eyes at me, brat." he scoffed. "who the hell even taught you that?" he muttered under his breath.

sukuna finally stopped in front of his bike. her eyes lit up as her legs started to kick in excitement. she's only ever seen daddy ride off on this thing, now she gets to ride with him?

he swung his leg over the bike, ignoring the mix of distasteful and flirtatious looks thrown at him. "okay, kid." he exhaled, shrugging off his jacket and holding it up to her. "gotta put this on."

she turned up her nose. "stinky."

his jaw dropped open. "i showered before i came to wait half an hour for you, chubby brat. the hell do you think you're talking to?"

she looked at him as if it were obvious.

"you'll put this on now. give me mama's painting, i'll put it in your bag." he said gruffly yet gently slid the painting into her backpack with the utmost care.

the jacket drowned her, the sleeves near triple the length of her arms. sukuna zipped her up and put the helmet on her head.

she started to whine. "stinky." she wailed.

"hush." he hissed, slapping some shades on and holding her towards her chest firmly. with her protected as best as he could with what he had, and with the jeweled backpack strapped to his back, he began to roll out into the road.

that drive home was the longest thirty minutes of his life. he had never drove so slow before.

you were waiting by the front door, running down to meet them as your husband pulled into the driveway.

"oh my god oh my god," you ripped your baby from his arms, tossing the helmet off her head. "are you okay, baby?" you smoothed away the sweaty hair from her face, your lips pursing when you hear her sniffles.

"my poor baby. daddy's never gonna pick you up again, don't you worry." you peppered her face with kisses.

sukuna caught the helmet before it crashed to the ground, walking behind you with his hands in his pockets. he kissed your temple as he leaned over your shoulder to peer down at his daughter. "daddy didn't do so bad."

you glare at him, cradling your daughter's head against your chest. you whirl away and storm into the house.

he sighed.

after many apologetic kisses and a good amount of groveling, you let him do pick-ups and drop-offs again. though you made sure to watch him get into the car before he drove off.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[blkkizzat]

🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟸........... THE SORCERER KILLER ......filed under the that's not my jjk man series

visitor log: an extra toji fushiguro should be double the trouble and double the fun but neither likes to share, you know for sure which ones your toji—but do you really even care?

classifications: bratty!reader, brat taming, breeding, baby trapping, hair pulling, spit play + creampies, jealousy, grump!toji, daddy kink

incidents: 4.8k

*bam-bam*

Your favorite playlist pulses through the speakers as you occasionally stir the creamy mac and cheese simmering that’s almost ready for dinner, the rich aroma of melted cheddar and butter fills the kitchen.

Using the spatula as a microphone you’re filming a cute lil reel for all your IG followers. So absorbed in the tasks the unexpected knock at the door pulls you from your groove.

“Toji—Daddy, I’m still cooking. Can you get the door?”

Urgh, you’d have to edit this out.

*bam-bam*

“Baby, there’s someone at the door!”

*bam-bam*

“TOJI! ANSWER THE DAMN DOOR NOW!”

Irritated, you stop recording and storm out of the kitchen. 

To be honest you are already at your wits’ end as Toji had been gone all week and had promised to take you out tonight—quarantine be damned—after being stuck in the house for so long. However, he showed up much earlier than expected, looking like a stray dog who hadn’t seen shelter in days and grumbling about being hungry. 

He frankly didn’t look like he’d be in any condition to take you out later but you weren’t about to let him weasel out of this so easily. So you drew him a bath, sat him in front of the TV with some beers and were now cooking him food like the good little domesticated girlfriend you were proving to be—ensuring he had no excuse not to take you out tonight.

You wanted date night and new content to post after so long in isolation!

Stomping into the living room, ready to tell him off, you find Toji completely knocked out on the sofa, sound asleep snoring, with a UFC match playing on the TV.

“Ugh, you’re lucky you’re kinda cute when you sleep, old man…”

You shake your head, yet the pounding at the door interrupts your musings. 

*bam-bam-bam*

“Yeah, yeah I’m coming! Keep it in your pants.”

Rolling your eyes, you mumble the last part under your breath.

Wiping your hands on your apron, you peep through the window only to see that your impatient visitor was—huh?!

TOJI!? 

“Hey, been waitin’ out ‘ere forever doll, lower the barrier. C’mon, mamas.”

You freeze before slowly backing away from the door.

Fuck! A doppelgänger …? 

Or wait…surely your Toji is already inside, right?

RIGHT?!

Quietly, you creep back down the hall into the living room to find Toji still passed out on the couch. His head tilts back, mouth opened wide enough to catch flies as he continues to snore, legs sprawled out in a manspread. In one of Toji’s hands he holds a scratched-off lottery ticket (he won 2000 yen), while the other lazily scratches his balls in his sleep. 

Empty, crushed beer cans are scattered across your coffee table, while the crumbs from your brand new, yet now-demolished, bag of wasabi peas linger on his chest.

Yeah… *sighs* ...this was definitely your Toji alright. 

It also dawns on you that with his heavenly restriction, any barrier is pretty much nullified. 

Toji didn’t need you to lower it for him. He could waltz right in himself like it wasn’t there—like he’d done earlier too—completely surprising you as he didn’t even bother to knock or call ahead. 

Okay, well, yay—your first dopplegänger encounter and you correctly identified it. 

That was simple enough.

Now to actually deal with the doppelgänger  at your door was a different matter entirely. 

You sure as fuck weren’t letting them in. 

But you also weren’t so sure it would just go away on its own as they’ve been reported to be pretty persistent.

Tsk, should you wake Toji up then? 

You knew Toji to be a big grumpy ol’ man bear after a nap and you didn’t want to deal with that. Plus, you’d barely seen him all week with an increase in his contracts from Shiu due to the doppelgänger  appearances, it’s why he’s passed out so hard in the first place.

Toji would be even more disgruntled to see a doppelgänger  of himself of all people, effectively ruining the night you’ve been waiting all week for.

So you would just have to get rid of this fraud Toji yourself…somehow.

Easier said than done though as it’s not like you could kill the thing yourself, being the low grade sorcerer you are, especially if it mimicked Toji’s strength too.

You lightly chew your nail in contemplation, unsure of what to do exactly when you hear the knocking again, this time more urgent. 

*bam-bam-bam-bam-bam*

Shit at this rate the real Toji would wake up.

With a huff you return to the foyer. You were more quiet this time in your approach but the doppelgänger  curse senses you regardless as he speaks to you through the door. 

“C’mon on baby, I’m so sorry for not being around as much. Please lower the barrier, alrite? I’ll make it up t’ya mamas.”

Cautiously peeking out the window again you frown as doppelgänger Toji is still parked outside your door, clearly not going anywhere. The copy was pretty convincing too you have to admit, looking every bit as delectable as the real thing—maybe even a bit more—given the actual Toji’s current sloppy couch potato status.

BUT—’So sorry?!’  

Since when did Toji ever so willingly apologize for anything—and the ‘please’?! 

Yeah, please is right, as it’s something Toji would never say this easily—this creature was definitely not your Toji!

Even if you had been moved ever-so-slightly by the tinge of genuine contrition in its voice, this thing had Toji’s personality all wrong.

You had to admit it was a pretty good ploy though. 

The curse even sounded just like Toji and used similar lingo, it was almost flawless—but—the flaw it did have was huge. 

“Listen, I’m gonna level with you. It’s not worth it buddy, turn into someone else. He's sleeping now but he'll literally rip you apart if he wakes up and I don’t wanna deal with the ‘tude he’s gonna have after. It will ruin our whole date night and I never get date night!”

You harshly whispered through the door. 

Although, to be honest you were a little embarrassed you let that last part slip out like that. However your frustrations from the isolation were boiling over and this Toji looked just like the real one, you couldn’t help but take it out a little bit on them.

“Besides, I know for a fact you aren’t the real Toji.”

Pulling away from the window, you check the barrier again as you silently hope the doppelgänger  will just get the hint and leave. 

Standing in the foyer, you don’t hear anything for a minute and you think it might have actually left—although you wouldn’t know without looking again as the thing seemingly also mimicked heavenly restriction to a certain extent as you weren’t able to sense him either. However, thankfully the limitations of the fraud Toji appeared to be keeping it from freely passing through barriers apparently—one thing thankfully that could not be mimicked. 

“Ya know ma…I already know—that you know, that is. Tsk, wouldn't be hard to figure out, given his abilities alone.”

Toji’s smooth voice comes through the door. Well, not your Toji, Toji #2, the doppelgänger. 

You had a sassy remark ready to throw at him but the doppelgänger’s next words give you pause.

“But it wasn’t the abilities that gave me away, right? He doesn't apologize as much as he needs to, eh ma?” 

Silence.

“N’ ya really think y’er going out somewhere tonight, mamas? That old man ain’t waking up for a while.” 

You're not sure how exactly to respond to copycat Toji. 

Thoroughly stunned, you know his words ring true, yet they manage to sound just as condescending as the real Toji does sometimes when he's certain he's right.

Scoffing, you know you remaining quiet is an answer all on its own. 

“You know you don’t deserve that, mamas… You could do better. Someone who could actually be around more, eh?”

Spot-on in his assessment, doppelgänger Toji doesn’t need to see you chewing on your lip to know he has you hooked. You are too caught up in your own head, left isolated for too long to think rationally at the moment. 

However, had you taken the time to peek out of the side window again, you would have seen the self-satisfied smirk on the clone’s face knowing he had slightly hooked you.

“Don’t think of me as a copy mamas—consider me an upgrade.”

ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩

When Toji—the real Toji—finally wakes up, he’s practically ravenous. 

The wasabi peas did little to satisfy him, waiting for you to finish cooking your famous mac and cheese and drinking all that beer had amplified his hunger even more. 

Although overall, it had left him tired. He hadn’t been on this many jobs in literal years. Though he had turned down many contracts in the past out of disinterest or sheer laziness, the money these clowns were offering to eliminate wayward copies was pure insanity

Upwards of 150 million yen for some light-weight level one & two curses?

Toji would be a fool to turn down that easy money. 

And while certainly easy, the jobs had been tedious, feeling near endless. 

Nearly every bastard in Tokyo had a copy running around—if not multiple and after a week of non-stop work with barely any sleep, it finally caught up to Toji.

With a yawn more similar to a light roar, Toji looks around, cracking his stiff neck. He isn’t sure how much time has passed but he’s a little annoyed. Most of the lights are off and you are nowhere to be found, usually he’d hear you in the kitchen or you’d be curled up beside him, molded into his side body. 

His eyes briefly narrowing, Toji knows he was supposed to take you out tonight so you can finally get some air after being cooped up so long. But knowing how big a brat you could be, you’d better not have disobeyed him and gone outside yourself just because he’d overslept—it was still too dangerous.

Yet any remnants of sleep instantly dissipates when Toji hears your soft flirtatious laughter coming from the foyer. 

Rising up from his hibernation spot on your sofa and following the sound of your voice to the front of the house, Toji’s annoyance grows with every step. He can sense something’s off—his innate senses are screaming at him.

When Toji lays eyes on you he realizes there’s actually something that leaves him even more irritated than you speaking with your coworker, Gojo Satoru.

Much worse. 

You were talking, no—flirting with Toji’s own doppelgänger at that!

Not only had you made yourself comfortable, chatting with him through the screen door from a cozy chair while he sat on a stool he’d scooched over on the porch, but you’d even lowered the barrier long enough to give the lousy clone a plate of food—a plate Toji instantly recognized as the mac and cheese you were supposed to make for him.

You fed that fucker his food too?!

Toji’s patience dwindles rapidly as you fail to notice him right away—too deep in conversation, happily entertaining a version of Toji that, for once, actually listens to all the topics the real Toji dismisses as ‘girly shit.’ The clone lavishing praises of your dancing skills and how cute all your photos look as you show off your IG and TikTok. 

Even though you are genuinely clueless, it's apparent that his doppelgänger notices Toji. The subtle smirk and twitch of his clone's scarred lip mocks the real Toji as the doppelgänger leans into the barrier, trying to get closer to you. If Toji were the introspective type, he might have realized in that moment how insufferable he sometimes appeared to you, seeing as how much his own expression had just pissed him off—but the murderous intent boiling in his veins seared away any such thoughts.

“THE FUCK?!”

Hearing Toji’s roar starles you so bad you almost fall out of your chair. 

Snapping back to reality you had nearly forgotten you’d spent the last 3 hours or so chatting with DT—short Doppel Toji—as you dubbed him. Unlike your real block-headed oaf of a boyfriend you have, Doppel Toji was so easy to talk to—about anything! 

Wanting to learn more of human culture and customs, Doppel-Toji hung on to your every word as you explained the details of being a new breakout influencer and how hard it was seeing as the real Toji wanted you to block nearly every man who commented on any of your posts.  

“Oh, Toji, you’re finally up? It’s only been 3 hours and the restaurant is likely closing down by now!” 

You roll your eyes.

“Anyway while you were napping, Doppel-Toji, DT here, has been keeping me company.”

Doppel-Toji nodded in approval of the nickname, the same smarmy smirk on his face that the real Toji was itching to rip off.

You turn back to the real Toji, seemingly unaware of just how close he was to losing his entire shit. 

“Babe, these doppelgänger ’s aren’t that bad at all! Some, like DT here, just want to live normal lives as doubles! DT here wants to be a milkman, isn't that right?”

Doppel-Toji gives you a wide smile that reached into his eyes, one that creeped Toji out to see on his own face, especially as you were even smiling back at him foolishly not even realizing how the doppelgänger ’s gaze had since drifted onto your jiggly tits and then even lower to see how your dress had ridden damn near past your supple thighs. 

Wearing only your cute, thin, cotton-ribbed lil pj dress with cherries printed on it you were practically naked as the sheer material teases the color of your nipples and shows the outline of the thong straps digging into the swell of your thick hips.

Yeah, by the way his doppel is looking at you the real Toji is certain the only milkman job his freak of a doppel wants is to be one turning your succulent fat cunt into heavy cream.

Heh, over the Toji’s dead fucking body though—well the copy of it at least that's for sure.

“Mamas, c’mon you can’t be this bird-brained…”

The real Toji crossed his arms leaning on the wall trying to keep his cool so you'd realize on your own just how silly you were being but he unintentionally made you lose yours.

“A bird?! Did you just call me a fuckin’ bird Toji Fushiguro!?”

You turn back to Doppel-Toji, whose smirk shifts to an understanding expression by the time you meet his gaze again.

“See this is exactly what I was talking about!”

Pointing an accusing finger at the real Toji and DT nods sympathetically, shooting eyes over to the real Toji who didn’t need his enhanced senses of heavenly restrict to sniff-out this nice-guy act was all a fuckin’ farce from a mile away. 

Voicing your frustrations, you're still griping as you once again face the real Toji who was just about fuckin’ fed up with this stupid-ass charade. 

“Listen, Toji we need to talk… DT says you don’t appreciate me enough! You haven’t been around at all lately and I know you’ve been busy but you could at least call—”

The real Toji closes his eyes, unraveling his arms and cracking his neck as you continue to prattle on. He’s at his limit and he ain’t about to sit through a nagging lecture all while a phony ass version of himself sat there ridiculing him too.

Furthermore, despite there being truth to Toji not being around lately, he’d actually tried to make up for it the best he could. Toji had venmo’d you money to cover your groceries and bills—something he hadn’t done for a woman since his late wife!

Overindulging you, Toji even bought you the newly released iphone you wanted (even though you still have last year’s model and its working just fine). However, according to you— ‘you need the latest new camera for your reels! And what else were you supposed to do but take fire selfies for all your followers if you’re stuck inside all day!’ 

Rolling his eyes at the memory, Toji wasn’t exactly sure when you had domesticated him. Nevertheless, somehow he’d gone from asking you to ‘hold 4000 yen for the week’ to sending you large chunks of his payouts to keep you happy—all before he realized he’d cared enough about you to even go this far. 

If you being a materialistic attention-seeking slutty lil’ thing wasn’t enough, you were also greedy too—still not satisfied and pouting until he was home again to bend your legs back over your head while he ruined your greedy lil' pussy.

As a result of the real Toji spoiling you sour, you’d turned into the nag before him now. Acting like he cared nothing for you whenever you didn’t get your way exactly when and how you wanted it.

“—and that’s why DT says you better act right before you lose me!”

Heh…

Your clingy lil ass wasn’t going nowhere—you were a fuckin’ brat and Toji should have known it would come to this.

Opening his eyes with a chillingly murderous grin, Toji’s demeanor sends shivers down both you and the doppelgänger’s back. 

“S’that right ma?—Is that what he says, eh?”

From there it all happened so fast you weren’t sure what exactly even happened.

You think Toji had ripped the screen door off its hinges, destroying it and shattering the barrier while seemingly producing inverted spear of heaven out of thin air to take the doppelgänger's head right off his body. 

But you weren’t sure.

Where were you? Still in the foyer?

In fact, you can’t really be sure of anything at the moment as Toji has your nighty rolled up past your tits that bounce wildly in his face as his big brawny hands around forcibly slide you up and down on his girthy cock. 

You didn’t know where your panties had even gone, Toji likely tore them off, shredding them to bits, for all you know. 

Your thoughts and current timelines are utterly jumbled as Toji completely hollows out your insides, molding your poor abused hole to the shape of his cock. His brawny grip imprints into your flesh, slamming your hips flush to his while allowing his bulbous cockhead to roughly kiss your cervix with every breath-stopping thrust down on his length. Shivers furiously ripple through your body as your clit is continuously assaulted over and over by the unkept pubes at his base. 

The rough treatment—just how you like it—releases waves of sublime ecstasy sizzling in your brain. Toji is effectively lobotomizing you with his mean fat cock, the relentless drilling thrusts liquifying your consciousness.

Fuck…wait—um, what was your name again even? 

The only name, thing, place you can think of right now begins and ends with Toji as he continues to bully himself inside your body, rippling shockwaves through your cunt that shift your organs around just to his liking.

“Tojiiiiiii, d-dahddy puh-leaseeee!!”

Your slurs are near intelligible but Toji can still make out his name as drool spills over your lips almost as fast as your babbles, thoughts of his doppel completely wiped from your slutty lil’ head. 

Yet even with the now decapitated clone, it wasn’t fully dead just yet. It was a stronger one, near special grade, severing its body parts wouldn't be enough to destroy them. The effects of the inverted spear made RCT impossible for it though as it withered on the ground.

It lay helplessly, dying slowly as Toji fucked the dogshit out of you on the comfy chair you had once been in. Proving to you and the curse that no copy could ever hope to have you falling apart like this—completely dumb for his cock only.  

So easily getting cockdrunk anytime Toji stirs up your guts is why you don’t even register the raspy words Toji practically growls as you—

“You hear that, baby?”

Smacking your ass hard, your flesh ripples against Toji’s palm.

“Answer me slut!”

His insatiable plundering of your cunt as you so blissed-out that the sting of your sore redding ass startles you.

“T-T-Tojsshii!!!”

You whine, sobbing as tears pour down your face, soaking your nighty that was damn near pushed up to your neck now. Toji knowing how big he was usually let you have the reins while in cowgirl but not this time—this was your punishment for being such a bitchy lil’ brat thinking he could be swayed behind some empty fuckin' threats of being replaced.

“Nuh-uh, slutty mamas.”

Toji mercilessly delivers another opened palmed smack that sizzles the nerve ends on your reddening bottom.

“Ya fed that discount version of me my dinner—so I’mma have to make my own—mmm ya hear that?  My version of mac n’ cheese s’almost ready.” Of course, the mac and cheese Toji is referring to his none other than your ooey gooey cunt. Your pussy lips stretch to their limits, yet desperately swallowing his thick girth with a series of wet squelches, glops, and bubbles. The milky fluids that are pushed out of you make an awful mess, running down Toji’s heavy balls and soiling your expensive comfy velvet chair. 

“Now this—this is how you make mac n’ cheese ma, hear that creaminess? You thought that fuckin’ loser ass fake was gonna make a freak-nasty pussy like yours sing like this?”

You can only gasp in response, trying to hang onto him and your own sanity while you dig your nails into Toji’s biceps for leverage as he drills you down on him within an inch of your sanity—the acoustics of your cunt ringing salaciously in your ears. 

“Tsk, look at ya ma, actin’ like you can’t take it when this is what ya really fuckin' wanted all week.”

PLAP-PLAP-PLAP-PLAP!

You’re really going to have to speak up now to get Toji to hear you over the sordid sounds of your cheeks being clapped to hell and back. 

"HMPH! MMM—N-No! AHHH—I-I want… SHIIIIIIT S’GUD—ahhh ahhh—d-date!!”

Another slap stings your ass as you pathetically pout, making Toji smack your jiggly flesh once more for good measure. Your cute lil’ expressions only fuel his mean streak.

“Now mamas, ya know we were never gonna go on that date—n’ I know, ya know why.”

Blushing, you bite your lip, shaking your head as you feign ignorance. holding back your sobs—not wanting to own up to what you and Toji both already know to be facts.

“C’mon slut, don’t act all shy now. Ya know the reason why we never go on dates—because this filthy leaky cunt of yours can’t be ‘round me for too long without wanting to get filled up—at the movies *smack* —in the back of the bar *smack* —heh, didn’t ya even make me fuck ya horny lil ass dirty in the filthy-ass stall at the park? *smack* Bratty lil cunt not being able to wait the 5 minute drive home…”

Your pussy flutters tighter around Toji, answering for you as he continues to chuckle at your embarrassment. You were a shameless lil' whore for his dick, and you were at your worst level of brat when you didn’t get it for even a short period of time.

“Whaddya say then? Ya don’t think I appreciate ya ma? Even though I fuck ya, whenever and however your pretty pussy begs for it? Heh. Well then, let me show this pretty cunny how much she's appreciated.” 

Further sliding down the chair, Toji plants his feet firmly on the ground so he can pump himself into you harder. The new angle has his cock pounding deliciously against your g-spot. You bounce wildly for a few pumps before your core muscles, fatigued and screaming at you, have you falling forward onto him. Nuzzling your head into his well-sculpted chest to smother your wails, you're unable to do anything but just take it. 

“Ya hear that, mamas? That's your pussy saying thank you to my cock. She’s always so grateful t'me mamas, better behaved than you anyday.”

Biting into one of his large pectorals Toji chuckles at your feeble attempt to still rebel against him. Your bites feel more akin to a soft tickle—yet the indents your teeth leave spark a feral urge in Toji, who in turn, ramps up the voracity a few levels. 

Sliding his hands from your waist he grips your cheeks, spreading them while you sink down further a few millimeters that almost seemed impossible, already being so full of him. 

“I know she knows how much I care about ‘er by the way she’s gushin’ on me, squeezing me like she’s begging me make her cum, she deserves it even if ya don’t.”

Cheeks cracked-open wide, your puckered rear exposed, Toji smirks as he presses his middle finger against your ridges to toy with the entrance of your asshole. When Toji starts rimming the tight ring of muscle in a furious circular motion, the finger already so slick n’ sticky from your juices—you can already feel just how fuckin hard your about to cum.

“Tsk—shame that mouth of yours you always gettin’ her and your lil’ ass in trouble, eh?”

Soundless moans leave you, your throat raw from the straining of your vocals—that is until Toji sinks his burly finger deeper into your hole, hooking and pressing against the thin wall to the point he can feel how hard he is coring-out your cunt from even the tight insides of your ass.

OH FUCK! 

Too much! 

Too good!

The intrusive and unexpected assault on your back hole is what finally does it for you. Toes curling to the point of cramps your bision blacks out and you think you lost consciousness completely but its your own vocals croaking out cries as you cum—hard that grounds you back to reality. Shivers take over your body and your clenching around Toji so ferally he lets out his own string of curses and he bites into your neck, filling you up—his hefty load overstuffing your pussy as it squelches out and down the sides of his cock.

You don’t know how much time has passed but you’re still trembling in the afterglow of your orgasm. Weakly look up at Toji, all teary-eyed and dazed, in pout so adorable it only makes him want to ruin you more in the most animalistic way possible.

You honestly had him wrapped around your finger like no woman had before and he was going to fuck that knowledge into you, preventing this situation from happening again.

Better yet—Toji was gonna fuck a baby into you to prove it. 

Sear his cum directly into your walls, painting you with his scent and effectively turn your womb into a pretty lil' dump over n’ over—until he finally planted his kid in you.

You wouldn’t be able to complain to him about being lonely then and fuck knows how long this doppelgänger shit was gonna last. 

Fuck tho.

The thought of you fully pregnant and round with his child got his dick back up n’ jumpin’ just from picturing you n'your cute round lil' belly waddling around. So much so that when Toji pulls you off of him to manhandle you into the next position he doesn’t even notice your brand new phone on the ground next to his feet until— 

*CRUNCH*

“Tojiiii my new phone! I still have reels that haven’t been posted!!!”

You’re coughing out your complaints, dizzy and out of breath from being fucked so hard. Scanning the ground for your phone you can barely support yourself as you bend forward to access the damage, until you feel Toji snatch you back up.

“Heh, fuck that phone and fuck ya IG ma. I’mma about to give ya something to put on a sonogram instead—now drape ya fine self over the back of this chair n’ toot that pretty peach of an ass up.”

The slap to your backside this time is so loud the force causes your ears to ring along with the rest of your body to tingle, your tongue lolling out of your mouth drooling from the force rocking into your overstimmed cunt. 

“N’ m’not asking ya!”

You would have surely collapsed to the ground if Toji, fed up, hadn’t just taken matters into his own hands and positioned your limp, ragdoll-like body over the chair himself.

Ass up and out on display, Toji parts your swollen folds with his thumbs. Admiring his cum plugging your gaping slit, Toji gifts a wad of spit into your hole adding to the fluids before he rubs his dick, now even harder than before, through your ruined folds. 

Grabbing your hair and yanking your head back Toji’s words send shivers down your spine as he bullies himself into your core once more—all in one go, taking him in so nicely like a slutty lil glove.

“Listen ma, the only DT I ever wanna hear you say is ‘Daddy Toji’. Now scream it for me, baby. Loudly. Tell the whole neighborhood, eh? They're already lookin’. ”

Huh? What was he…Fuck, the front door was wide open this entire time?!?!

Struggling to keep your bleary eyes open, your body keenly jolts from the backshots Toji is ruthlessly gifting your cunt. Losing yourself to pleasure again you see another doppelgänger on the approaching from the street—

This time it’s a perfect copy of—you! 

However your copy freezes on the lawn once it catches sight of your state caused by the giant bear of a man recklessly pummeling into your limp body from behind and his nearly dead doppel, whose limbs still miraculously twitch while scattered over the porch. 

Your doppel’s face twists in horror before she quickly flees the scene, smart enough to have more self-preservation than Toji’s as she wisely decides against engaging in any of these fuckin’ problems.

......RESULT: FAILED. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚞 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛—𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞���� 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎.

that's not my jjk man series (visit series page for full animation)

comment and reblog! next up geto, already finished posting 10/21.

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

[kalims]

⋆ too drunk to recognize your boyfriend

feat. third years of diasomnia

malleus

"I.. have a boyfriend,"

to an extent. the guarded, suspicious look on your face would have concerned malleus to no belief, to others. he wouldn't have bat an eye whatsoever, but it's you so the feeling crawls up his spine and clouds his heart. he can't help the slight nudge of offense clouding his face cause you definitely shouldn't have any reason to make such a face to his.

the more his arm reaches out towards you—to ground your swaying form perhaps, the more you seem to be inching away from him. which shouldn't make sense at all! "child of man?" he murmurs. dropping the attempt to console you, to which you squint at him. back pressed against the front door to his dorm.

"who are you?!" you point at him, and he blinks. mortification spreads in his head. you've.. accumulated amnesia?!

malleus' fingers clench around the fabric on his chest, just after he had retracted the outstretched limb in fear of frightening you even more. there's a certain stiffness to his hand that illicit a drop of sweat from his forehead. him? he's your mal?

if he had the nerve to cry, he would.

but of course, you remain a priority. you exhibit unnatural behavior. no one just forgets important details in a day! you especially, won't forget about him! and he won't let you, ever.

you sway. your eyes darting around, and squinting like you're struggling to focus on one subject of your attention, a factor that might affect it is the fact you keep looking around instead on settling on something, preferably him. and, malleus is torn between steadying you, or him.

he chooses you.

despite your half hearted protest that audibly makes him sulk more, he twists the door to the dorm open and ushers you inside. not too much of a struggle, if anything, you seem lighter, and he almost actually hauled you around with minimal effort.

"must be a good night," a voice purrs, malleus doesn't have to glance at the source to know that it's lilia. years spent with the man does wonder with familiarity. it took him a couple of decades to get used to him. strangely enough he feels like he's known you longer, despite not.

the statement makes the taller male frown. lilia though, keeps the tiny smile, now tickled with a hint of amusement as the rubies shift from your blubbering form to malleus' face. oh? he's upset now. lilia muses. it's easy to ascertain his boy's move, like a sixth sense.

so lilia decides to probe further. "no? your face tells me otherwise."

malleus huffs a little. one of the habits he never seemed to grow out of ever since he learned to keep his... more draconic traits at bay. "you are less than accurate with your assumption," his eye twitches, either torn between distressed or irritation. despite the conflicting behavior, he still manages to treat you with a gentle hand while leading you towards the couch.

"it is a very terrible day." malleus continues. sad enough to complain, but fond of you enough to take the hint from your apparent cautious behavior towards him. lilia almost laughs when he spies him gloomy, sitting on the far end, away from you.

the lightning strikes just as the clouds roll in. lilia peers behind the curtains, chuckling a little at the weather.

well! he just hadn't seen malleus moping around this much since, what? when that gold trinket wouldn't fit in his tower anymore? "why so, my dear?" lilia coos, positively charmed by the 'adorable' disposition.

of course, he already knows. he'd heard your exchange moments ago.

lilia retains the easy look. "the child of man has forgotten about me," malleus explains. looking more stressed by the second. "whoever has done this, will pay." from a sad, faraway look to rage suddenly. "I beg of you, please return them." then switches back...?

he has half the mind to pretend like you're never gonna return normal but decides against it.

"of course!" lilia chirps. "they'll be well by tomorrow."

and, malleus looks like he had been holding the world by his shoulders seconds ago, a sigh of relief.

the next day, you're not sure why malleus is introducing himself in concerning detail. do you really need to know what color his assigned blanket was when he was given birth to...?

lilia

if anything, he's really the one who enabled your behavior.

"just one more." , "oh my, need another?" , "you look like you need it, come on now, don't be shy, you only live once~"

concerned, silver steadied you as you wobble on your feet. babbling about some nonsense under your breath which only illicits the boy to cast a disapproving glance at lilia (who only wears an amused smile).

"seems like they had quite the night." a cheery comment from the latter, and silver makes no move to resist when he moved closer with silent steps, then pries you to his side inside with a gentleness that would prove that he isn't.. actually the reason for your state, but not really.

lilia cooed, like he'd coddled them before. silver thinks but it is so distinct from the way he used to coax them into bed. "time for bed."

you peel your eyes open, squinting with a crease between your brows. you tug at your arm, of which doesn't really budge but lilia decides to humor the struggle so he lets go and raises his brows. "I'm not a kid!" you say, then turn your head to the side—like a kid.

oh, so adorable. lilia croons, swooning inside his head for a bit. how he'd like to simply hold you for hours end...

the romantic monolog of his daydreams though, is interrupted by you once more. ironic since you were the one he was just day dreaming about.

"oh, my. is that so? how lucky of me." he chooses to say instead.

silver sweatdrops. glancing between your hazy... anger maybe? it's not really anger in all honesty, just bordering. then to the lax demeanor his father exhibited. a glance would find normality in it, but he hasn't seen him pick on someone so...

he doesn't know the word for it, perhaps insisting on bothering a singular person as much as he can?

you gasp, snapping your head to silver. cause apparently you recognize him, but seemed scandalized by lilia's presence. "silver! protect me!"

amused, lilia watches you scurry back behind the boy.

"there's nothing to protect you from..."

"there's a man!"

"I'm a man too..."

"there's a bad man!"

your head peeks out from silver's confused frame, lilia's head follows the action. tilting to the side as you eye him hilariously warily. hmmm.. so very cute. "I'm an innocent, only wishing to steal my beloved." he replies, with a usual lightness. though the usual relaxation you had around him is replaced with irritation.

"you can't steal me away, my boyfriend and his children will strangle you."

lilia shares a look with silver. where did they get the idea of... such violence?

silver shrugs. not a clue, he seems to reply back, committed to just remaining a bystander even if he's technically in the middle.

"is that so?"

you nod vehemently, a more open vulnerability clear on your face than before. you point to lilia (well, technically you don't actually know its him! or maybe you're just playing with him?) squinting, accusing at all with him at the end of your pointer finger. the male only raises his brow, and flashes you a cheeky smile.

lilia contemplates playing with you. as in, replying 'why don't you guess?' because knowing you, even in this state you'd probably tell him: "how would I know?" then proceed to guess anyway.

you would have a cute expression, perhaps. but he isn't so cruel to the point where he would waste time—time you could be using to rest instead, preferably get sober, remember him when you wake up, and return to your lovey dovey self.

alright. maybe not lovey dovey on some days but he would definitely prefer that than you using his son as a shield against him, like the boy could actually hold him back.

well, it is technically his fault... but lilia had all the intentions to care for you if you ever got too drunk, he'd hold you up if you were too unsteady, guide you away from possible fiends, and make sure you recovered well the following morning.

but, this definitely didn't enter his area of expectations.

"yup!" you cry. "he might be short, but he can kick butt." for someone who's heard many arrogant words, he's never seen one who says one thing—a threat in your case, then you proceeded to cower behind the nonchalant silver.

you nudge silver.

silver blinks. "um... that's correct."

you glance back at lilia. as if to say I told you!

"so... he will kick my... butt?" lilia hums, indulging in using the word. goodness, good thing sebek is not here. that boy definitely would've kicked you out for endorsing such foul language.

he feigns a look of horror, to his amusement you seem to brighten.

simply adorable...

long story short. you seem to believe you've truly scared him off when he disappears.

concerned even more, silver watches you welcome lilia back with a dreamy sigh. like... you actually recognize him as your lilia, and not the guy you were just... threatening to bite the curb.

this is absurd... I should just rest... silver sighs.

lilia only beams at the showering affection.