#I could have spent so much today. i showed RESTRAINT.

[vcrnons]

what a time to be alive🥹

[lunarw0rks]

Hi! I hope your day has been well :]. If you don't mind, could you do some headcannons on Task 141 + konig or just 141 reacting to their s/o having boobs that just never fit in a button up?

Like the button up will just pop open after a long time of trying to close it. So their s/o just wears it halfway open and is completely oblivious to the "seductive/hot" look it gives her.

Thank you ^^

You're Killing Me // 141 Drabbles

Warning(s): suggestive language/content, brief mention of harassment, established relationship, fem!reader, no use of y/n Word Count: 1.4k ꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗

SYNOPSIS; you had spent nearly twenty minutes unbuttoning and re-buttoning the top. You twirled around, bent down, spread your arms—sometimes just breathed and they popped right out. It was a hopeless battle, and you had lost all your patience fighting the size of your chest. In return, you kept the shirt buttoned down about halfway. There was more cleavage showing than you were used to, but it was only you and him there, so why not leave the neckline free? They needed to breathe, anyhow.

Price

John was somewhere in the house, but nowhere in sight. Most days the clearing of his throat or an earth-shattering sneeze are the only things that let you know he’s even home.

Today was no different. He was probably somewhere in his office if you had a guess. You walked down the stairs and went to the kitchen, deciding to cook some brunch for the two of you. You brewed some coffee for him, easy enough because he liked it black. Then, began cooking some eggs and toast to go with the caffeine.

When finished, you carefully picked up the plate you arranged, then the mug. Before you could turn, you heard the familiar clearing of a throat.

❝What are you doing, sweetheart?❞ He asked, but his words began to quiet when he saw your shirt only buttoned halfway. His eyes bulged slightly, very slightly, but he was eerily good at maintaining a poker face. John sipped on the mug you handed him, but his eyes didn’t flutter shut like they normally did as he drank.

❝I made brunch for you,❞ you reply, an ever-innocent smile on your face. It was clear you really didn’t have any idea how seductive you looked. It wasn’t just some cleavage, the collar was open so much he didn’t need to use much of his imagination.

❝I see that.❞ John rasped, that cheeky smile appearing on his face. The one that usually followed a snarky remark—but he couldn’t spoil this now. Not with a day of work ahead of him, though he had an almost remarkable amount of self-restraint.

To sneak another look, he approached from the side, kissing your head. One where he allowed himself to ogle down your shirt. ❝You look gorgeous today.❞ He mumbled against your hair, then retreated from the kitchen.

Sure, it had a double meaning for later. But right now? He would have something to look forward to as he got through his stacks of paperwork.

Simon

❝I’m headed out.❞ You said from the entrance hall, scooping up your bag and keys. You were going out with a friend, perhaps to get dinner or do some shopping. After that heated dressing session this morning, how you’ve left your shirt, you’re definitely buying a larger one.

Simon’s back was visible as he sat on the sofa, barely turning his head when you announced your departure. You swore you could hear him mutter an “mhm” but other than that, he only nodded his head.

Then, you remembered. You walked towards the living room, close enough for your outfit to be in sight. You thought nothing of the way you looked. In fact, you just thought it was a slightly revealing outfit, nothing else. ❝Don’t forget, your uniform is in the laundry room.❞

Though it was impossible to see on your end, Simon’s eyes were scanning the way you’d dressed yourself. He shifted in his seat a bit, nodding at your reminder—though it had flown right past him upon seeing your protruding chest.

You walked away, no other words exchanged. To you, it was just an average conversation with him; dry and reserved, despite how strong your relationship had gotten. You just learned to accept it, because a man like Simon wouldn’t stick around if he didn’t want to.

—

Lunch with friends had just finished, as well as about an hour of shopping. Unbeknownst to you, Simon had tailed you the whole time, sneakily and with laser focus. Yes, he had your location on his phone. Yes, he trusted you not to get yourself into trouble. But his paranoia got the better of him, especially seeing you dressed so revealingly.

He lacked trust with strangers, not you—his fear of you finding someone better took years to get over.

You walked out to the parking lot of the mall, a few shopping bags in hand. Then, you spotted him leaning against your car, balaclava rolled up and a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. ❝You stalking me now, babe?❞ You approached him, never sure what to expect from him.

When he saw you, his position blocking your car door didn’t change, his eyes did. He stared down at your chest again, then met your eyes. ❝Did you enjoy yourself? How about the mocha latte?❞

His words made your eyes widen slightly. The bastard was even behind you in line at Starbucks, and you hadn’t noticed? His stealth was both impressive and bone-chilling. Your silence made his brows furrow under his mask, urging him to step a bit closer. ❝Relax. I’m not bein’ a prick. Was just worried about you being out.❞

Simon would never say why, or the awful scenarios he’d convinced himself of. He would’ve done it with or without you wearing the revealing outfit. All your clueless self needed to know was that you were protected.

Soap

God, what was taking you so long?

❝Film starts at 4:30, lass. It’s 4:15.❞ He said through the door, tapping his foot against the floor. Soap looked down at his watch, waiting outside the bathroom for you to finish getting dressed. You were taking longer than usual, though he hadn’t imagined it was because your boobs kept popping out of your shirt.

Upon hearing your gasps and groans of frustration, then the sound of clothing fabric shuffling, he furrowed a brow in concern. ❝Everything alright?❞

You swung open the door, slightly out of breath from your struggle with the button-up. ❝Yeah, let’s get going.❞ Let’s just say the beam on your face, it was the second thing he noticed. Your cleavage was on full display, only half the buttons fastened. Soap’s eyes glossed over a bit, expecting some sort of tease from your lips, but you were oblivious.

He had to take a few steps back, his expression dropping into a sneer. ❝You have the slightest clue what you’re doin’, bonnie? Those are gonna catch some stares…❞ As possessive as his words sounded, they weren’t preventing you from going out like that. What creeper in their right mind would try anything with him at your side? Next to none.

❝I couldn’t get the shirt buttoned,❞ your lips tightened into a pout, expecting him to ask you to change, or something to that effect—though he wasn’t the type.

However, he just smirked, lips pursing cockily. ❝Might even try to touch you. That’s before they lose their hands, though.❞ Soap winked, draping an arm around your shoulders as he led you to the front door.

As he snaked his arm around your shoulder, he snuck in a grope, one that was followed by a flushed expression on both your faces. He chuckled at the coy look on your face as if you weren’t dating the biggest flirt. ❝What? These are mine, lass. I’m allowed to touch.❞

Gaz

The heat was sweltering and unforgiving—especially in the prime of the afternoon.

You opened up all the curtains, allowing yourself to sunbathe as you moved about the house, but without leaving the comfort of the AC. The natural light gave your shared living room a warm, homey feel. The front door shut—he had gotten back from his daily run. 

❝Felt like a bloody melting ice pop out there,❞ Kyle grunted as he went straight to the kitchen, pressing a chilled bottled water to his sweating head. When his eyes opened, he saw the shirt you had on for the first time that day.

Kyle not-so-subtly checked you out as you fanned yourself with a magazine. The shirt, already tight enough, was even tighter as the heat made you pant. And the dribble of sweat running down your exposed cleavage? What a sight to him. ❝Is there something on my face?❞ You questioned with a senseless giggle.

He had traveled across the kitchen at the speed of light, a hungry kiss on your lips. He pulled away for air, ❝you’ll be the death of me before the Sun is, love.❞ One hand pushed a sweaty strand of hair away, while the other tugged at the opening of the shirt playfully.

You knitted your brows while biting down on your now saliva-soaked lips, ❝aren’t you tired from your run?❞ Besides, he typically wasn’t that forward. You wondered if the heat really got to him, having no clue how aroused your chest made him.

❝Not anymore.❞

[exhaslo]

Since Puzzle Pieces is a favorite piece of mine from your writing could you dk like a mini side story about reader and mafia!miguel raising a family together especially with reader navigating finding herself

MORE SIDE CONTENT!!! LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOO

Warning: Minors DNI, some smut, mentions of sex, mentions of murder, mentions of bullying

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"Mama, mama, mama! Wanna play at park, please, please, please?!"

Unable to resist the adorable look your oldest son was giving you, you caved.

"Alright, sweetie. Why don't you pick out an outfit while I call daddy to let him know, okay?"

You smiled brightly as the toddler cheered before running off to his room. It has been a few years into your relationship with Miguel and you couldn't be happier. The two of you had three beautiful children...and counting according to Miguel.

Your oldest son, Gabriel, was four; the second child, Gabriella, was two; and the last child, Kron, was only a few months old.

Humming lowly as you took your two youngest children to your room, you placed them on the bed before calling Miguel. Ever since your children were born, Miguel took extra caution whenever you would go out.

It was thanks to an incident when you and Lyla went out for some clothes shopping when Gabriel was about five months old. One of the other mafia families had the nerves to kidnap the three of you for ransom. Miguel did not take it lightly and ended up killing that new form mafia family.

"Hey, Miggy, I'm taking the kids to the park. Little Gabriel was just too cute to say no too," You said with a giggle.

"Aye, mi amor (my love), you must show some restraint with him."

"I know, I know."

"I'll send some men over. How are you doing today?" Miguel asked, wanting to make sure his wife was in good health.

"I'm okay, Migs-"

"AHHHHH PLEASE!"

"Are you okay? Another mafia group bothering you?" You asked after hearing the screams in the background. Miguel just chuckled softly,

"Not reason a bother, more like an insect. But don't worry, mi amor, they will be squashed in a moment. After I'm done here, I should be able to go home early."

"Maybe you could join us at the park, hehe," You said with a smile as you finished changing Gabriella.

"Daddy!"

"Yes, Gabi, your daddy might join us~"

"Now I have to finish early. I'll see you soon."

With that, Miguel hung up. You continued to change your youngest before laughing at how Gabriel dressed. Once finished, you had to fix your oldest clothing. With the three finally ready to go, you waited for Migue's men to appear.

You loved Miguel. He was still ever so kind and gentle with you. Your stuttering had calmed down with his help, although, you do get the occasional nerves, especially with new people. If anything, your children were the biggest reason for you to try and get better.

You wanted them to look up to you. Miguel was not only a powerful mafia boss, which the kids won't know about, but also one of the world's most powerful CEO. Compared to Miguel, you were just a small little bunny.

The thought made you sorrow. You wanted to do something with your life as well, but what? You've spent a good portion being bullied and ridiculed by both your parents and your ex boyfriend. Hell, if it wasn't for Miguel, you might not be here.

"Mama, the Peters are here!" Gabriel cheered.

Chuckling lowly towards your son's cute group name, you opened the door for the Peters. Jessica was there as well and greeted you and the small children.

"Hey, how's everything going?" You asked, wanting to get your mind off of your failures.

"Good. My kid's causing a ruckus in school every now and then. Wished, he got more of his father than me," She said with a laugh.

"Awe, I don't even want to think about sending Gabriel to school. I'll miss him too much!"

"Girl, with how Miguel is, he'll give you another baby." Jessica said with a wide smirk causing you to blush.

Miguel would.

--------

You were tired. You were sitting on one of the park benches, watching Kron as your other two children played. The Peters were watching the two children like a hawk while Jessica helped you with your youngest. Even with the help, you felt drained from other parents watching you.

It brought you back into your thoughts of what you wanted to do with your life. You had been through so much trauma that you could write a book, but would anyone read it? Would it be too depressing for other people?

"Excuse me, are all these men with you? You're making the other parents feel uncomfortable," A woman spoke while approaching both you and Jessica.

"O-Oh," You flinched, "S-Sorry...um-"

"Her husband worries a lot. They are her and her children's bodyguards, do mind yours." Jessica huffed.

"Well, it's still making everyone uncomfortable!"

You felt your heart sink. You couldn't even stand up for yourself against other parents. What were you going to do when your children went to school?

"My apologies, then perhaps we shall find another park for our children to play at."

Miguel placed his hand against your back, smiling casually towards the irate woman. It was instant that the parents gasped upon realizing who Miguel was. They immediately said it was fine as people tried to approach Miguel.

"And here we go," Miguel said with a heavy sigh. You smiled towards your husband,

"I'm sure the kids played enough for today,"

"DADDY!!!!"

"See?" You giggled as the two children ran towards Miguel.

Miguel laughed as he picked up his children. His loving gaze towards his family made you swell with joy. As long as Miguel supports whatever you want to do, you will be happy. Hell, knowing Miguel, he would make everyone in his mafia to buy your book, puzzle or whatever you do.

"Ready to go home?" Miguel asked his kids. They whined in response, "Mommy and Daddy have important work to do."

You felt your cheeks warm up as you looked at Miguel in protest. Using sex as an excuse for important work was going to get old eventually. You whined in turn as your children agreed to Miguel's ridiculous lie.

--------

"Tell me, (Y/N), what's been on your mind lately?" Miguel asked with a hum as he pressed your body against the bed, his cock reaching the deepest part of your gummy walls.

"M-Miggy, n-no fair," You whined as he held your legs over his shoulders, "I-I can't think...l-like this."

"Sure you can,"

With a thrust of his hips, you gasped and moaned his name. Your body melting against his touch and pussy clenching around his dick. No matter how many times Miguel would fuck you, it still brought you to nirvana each time.

Whimpering as Miguel's thrusts grew faster and rougher, you couldn't hold your voice back. You arched your back, whining and moaning as Miguel slapped against that sweet spot of yours.

"There's my little bunny. Wanna tell me what's wrong, amor?" Miguel whispered in your ear as he pressed you into mating position.

"Mhm~" You wanted to protest, but how could you? "I-I...ah~ I want...t-to do something...mhm~ with my l-life-"

"Amor,"

Miguel whispered softly, pulling you in for a kiss as you confessed. His thrusts were slow and sweet as he held you closely.

"Hah~ Ah~ M-Maybe...I...I could w-write a b-book."

"I'll support whatever you do, (Y/N). Just say the word and it's yours."

"Mhm~"

You wrapped your arms around Miguel as the two of you continued your 'important work'.

--------

Once all of your children were asleep, you sat in the living room, typing away on a laptop Miguel bought for you. Miguel approached you from behind, placing a cup of hot tea on the table. You smiled as he took his spot beside you, kissing your shoulder.

"Have you decided what you want to do?" Miguel asked softly. You rested your head against his,

"Well, I want to write about what I went through. Maybe...it will help other people try and get out of their similar fate....and I want to make learning puzzles for kids."

"Hm, seems like my wife has a busy schedule ahead of her." Miguel's arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap, "Just let me know and I'll help anyway I can."

"Thank you, Miguel." You titled your head and kissed him sweetly, "I love you."

"I love you more,"

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I hope you enjoyed! Puzzle Pieces is always fun to write! Also, you all might like my new series:

Over-Time

@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190 @jazzyj1011 @mcmiracles @innercreationflower @spoderssimp @thel0velykey190 @moonvoidpng @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @scaleniusrm @love4saturn @nyxgoddessofchaos13 @slutty-chronicles @ghstypaint @migueloharastruelove @brainmatterdump @a060403 @trendyharold @yannauauau @kimivixen @angel-xx-1 @nxrdamp @miguelzslvtz @lynxslokley @wafflefries786 @pochapo @what-the-jams @flaps200 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii @nakimushiohime @tojishugetiddies @aya-world @supercowgirl04 @mysteris-things @daisy-artfield @mcmiracles @alexa4040 @llama--drama @kpopscoups17130000 @havkjhdecs @ruexvn @tojishugetiddi @openup-yourmind @black-swan-blog27 @xstarsdiary @kiddisquacking @gachagator @yujyujj @emmyrxx @blackteamint @sockears @black-swan-blog27 @soraya-daydreams @byjessicalotufo @nanoinn @bunnibitez @aockskcw @l3laze @dimitri-needs-therapy

[maximotts]

18. “so perfect all tied up for me.” With your dollhouse au? I’m imagining those silk ribbon bondage rope not just tying you down but wrapped around you because Wanda thinks it’s such a pretty sight <3

I'm a different person posting this than I was yesterday when I started this fic... and then it got Deleted in drafts and I saw my life flash before my eyes. This is edited kinda, but honestlyyy I just needed to conquer it at this point lmao

please don't flag this fic, I have warnings clearly labeled

Doll House AU. masterlist. wc: 1.7 cw: 18+ only, please. smut, fluff. loose ribbon bondage. body worship. inspection. fingering (r receiving). oral (r receiving). size kink if you squint. overstim. mommy kink. snuggly aftercare. and then all the usual Doll House warnings.

Wanda and Doll spend an intimate afternoon in bed, Wanda perfecting her ribbon tying skills while judging your patience

⁛— 2nd birthday sleepover.

"There you go, all nice and pretty..." 

Silk ribbons adorned your figure, wrapping you like an extra present to Wanda, from Wanda. She'd spent the past hour fawning over you atop your plush bed, shedding your morning outfit only to replace it with buttery soft threads. "So perfect, all tied up for me."

It wasn't tight enough to restrain you really, if you truly wanted to wiggling away was an option— but you didn't want anything of the sort. Wanda's undivided attention was the best kind of afternoon you could hope for.

Curious as ever, you still had your questions. "Mommy, why aren't these tight?" 

Shrugging your shoulders showed off the little movement you could make, careful not to undo any of Wanda's hard work. The older woman laughed and kissed your hip above the ribbon she'd tied over your curves, amusement filled green eyes gazing up and instantly bringing a dopey smile to your face. "I don't want to tie you down, not today at least."

"Then what are we doing?" Oh you wished so badly you could reach up and kiss her, but your wrists tied at your middle stopped you from bending too far, again more fearful of messing up whatever goal Wanda strove for. 

And that was the most of what you were doing, Wanda testing your patience, whatever willingness you had to let your reverence of her outweigh your own desires... so far you were performing perfectly.

“We’re playing, of course. Silly thing,” Wanda sat up between your legs, crawling over your prone body until she could reach your neck for her next area of focus. It was an excessive show of possession, biting endlessly along your throat, leaving marks she'd be tending to for days after, relishing in how helplessly you squirmed under her; this could easily become her favorite afternoon playtime. "Aren't you having fun?"

Lithe fingers slid under the thick ribbons at your legs, playfully tugging just to hear your surprised squeak. Your legs fell apart with nearly no coaxing, Wanda’s fingernails scraping over your inner thighs just the way she knew you adored. Small shivers rattled your body as best they could within your restraints, ever conscious of leaving them in place, and the moment she laid eyes on your glistening sex she remembered why she’d decided to keep your lower limbs tied separately. 

“I asked you a question.” The only answer she received was your meek nod, an action that resulted in a faux pout from Wanda, more concerned with how often you forgot you were allowed to speak now rather than whether or not you were truly enjoying yourself. That much was evident.

“It sure looks like you’re having fun,” Spreading your folds apart was just as easy as your legs, leaving you completely vulnerable to Wanda’s impromptu inspection. No matter how long you stayed with her, there was a persistent shyness about you, but your longing for your mommy’s approval always won out. It would be so easy to uncurl your hands where they rested bound together a mere few inches above Wanda’s, to push her away and cover yourself… but you didn’t— just as Wanda expected of you.

Today’s obedience earned you a reward, but Wanda wouldn’t spell it out for you, preferring instead to continue her game of testing self-restraint. It was better to train you into behaving even without possible reward, no matter that she already spoiled you rotten every chance she got. Two wet digits left their examination and came to settle on your waiting lips, your patience forced but steadfast. “Say please.”

“Please mommy, may I clean your fingers?” The drawn out please was so adorable Wanda wanted to suffocate you, but instead she sated herself with your grateful sigh around her, your tongue diligently licking until she drew them away. 

Her hand came back to settle between your supple thighs, fingers sliding easily through your sex, knuckles just barely grazing your clit. Curious fingertips fell down to your entrance, gathering warm wetness from where you were dripping and bringing them to her own mouth this time. She always wondered if you knew how desperate she was to have you, but one look down at your dazed expression answered that for her easily. “Did my playtime make you all icky? Do I need to clean you up?”

Admittedly, the past hour of Wanda’s gentle touches, sweet words and even sweeter kisses left your brain fuzzy. The tingling in the pit of your stomach had grown into a calm and pleasant ache, much gentler than the gnawing, desperate clawing that plagued you whenever Wanda was rough. Sometimes she left you at that painful edge, frustrated to no end and chastising any complaints she caught. Today if she’d left you with nothing, maybe you’d be able to manage the evening with dull nagging, but the notion of an orgasm at the end of your slowly building high was too tempting to pass by; you had to make your need known. “Make it better, please… want it so bad.”

“So now you speak up, whenever you need something from me…” Wanda took her sweet time traveling down your front, lips brushing over every curve and divot so that when she finally placed one last adoring kiss atop your mound, anticipation buzzed through your veins. “You can cum as much as you’d like, but don’t you dare untie yourself.”

Sometimes Wanda’s rewards were straightforward, a simple start and finish before she sent you off. Surprisingly, you preferred rewards you worked towards together, ones like these where her tongue drew intricate patterns over your clit, teasing and testing just how far gone she could pull you while you remained committed to following her rules. It was harder than it looked, knowing you had the ability to twist and turn with every perfectly placed stroke, but willing your body to stay confined, to preserve Wanda’s ribbon-tied handiwork. 

Thankfully they allowed space for the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the clenching of your core as the first wave of orgasm washed over, knocking your head back into your plush array of pillows as you erupted into a fit of moans and pleas. “Mommy.. Mommy, please.. again! Wanna cum again-”

“Such a needy doll, so pretty all tied up for me and begging for my mouth.” It was a brutal inner battle to keep from bucking your hips, fingers fidgeting at your midsection to keep busy in anything other than Wanda’s hair. When she descended again it was all worth it, warm mouth suckling at your swollen bud to distract from the three fingers prodding at your hole. 

The stretch was maddening, an instantaneous full feeling sending you over the edge again before Wanda even got the chance to move. She groaned around you as she felt your walls clench, free hand coming to wrap securely around your upper thigh; instinct drove you to back away from the thick intrusion, but she couldn’t have any of that. “Shh, sweetheart, let mommy play a little longer.”

“O-Okay..” Your previous pleasant need evolved into something more, something starved within that only reared its head when Wanda’s intentions turned heady. Careful not to toss around too much, you relaxed as your thoughts settled into a low hum, taking every thrust and each curl of her fingers until individual orgasms merged to one neverending bliss.. you’d lost count after three anyways.

After some unmeasured amount of time, Wanda granted you a reprieve, leaving you dreadfully empty and weakly clenching around nothing. You felt limp head to toe, unable to even raise your arms without Wanda’s help as she worked to slowly unwrap you. She took her time so as not to startle you, smoothing over any tiny indent her ribbon left from your movements and doting on it with a cautious rub of her thumb. 

Once she was done, she was genuinely surprised you hadn’t dozed off; the act of overstimulation alone was occasionally enough to leave you napping for hours. But today heavy eyes lazily followed her every move, bottom lip quivering more visibly by the second. “You did a wonderful job today, my love. I’m so proud of you.”

The praise was much appreciated as always, but you’d been missing one thing terribly since Wanda had first given the instruction to lay back while she unfurled her ribbon and tired as you were, you needed one last clarification. “Can I touch you now, I want a hug…”

“Of course, we’re long past our game.” You were in Wanda’s lap after the second word, curling into her and wrapping your arms around her middle in the tightest hug you could muster. Any time she searched your thoughts, they were full of her, the urge to be near her so strong Wanda was surprised whenever she got a moment to herself these days. 

It was the sweetest form of devotion she could imagine, the pure need to keep her presence in whatever capacity; your lovey ways never failed to render her heart gooey. “That’s why you were so pouty just now, my poor little snugglebug.”

Giving your tummy the gentlest tickle before drawing the sheets closer, Wanda scooted you both until she could lay you down; not that the position mattered much when you stayed attached at the hip. Content little noises rumbled against Wanda’s arm as you made them, keeping still even as you craned your neck to cover her cheek in appreciative smooches. “Nap with me, mama. I’m sleepy.”

“If you insist,” Now it was Wanda’s turn for restraint. It’d take little to no effort to pull herself from your grip even without her powers; there were a myriad of things waiting for her to do downstairs… but she stayed put. The desire to see your smiling face when you woke up in a while, ever excited to wake up in her arms, far outweighed any living room cleaning.

[v0rewhxre]

Punished Part 2

The very highly anticipated part 2 to my punished blurb I wrote randomly last week! Thank you all so much for the support and love! I was not expecting this story to take off!

Also the first two paragraphs are from part 1 if they seem familiar!

18+ MDNI

CW: [f masturbation, m masturbation, slight throat grasping, p in v unprotected sex, restraint play, blindfolds, sensory play, oral f receiving, edging, pull out method, slightly dom Noah, slightly dom reader, slightly mean Noah, mentions of sex toys, mentions of squirting]

He waited a moment before moving his gaze to me. The expression on his face was cocky, there was no remorse in those eyes from the incident he just pulled. He simply grabbed a t-shirt and wiped himself off, getting up to go about his day.

Before he stepped outside the bedroom door, he turned and said, "If you touch yourself, I will do that again later. If you use your vibrator I will do that every day for the rest of the week, then you'll miss me," He said before walking away leaving me in practically a puddle of my own mess and tears.

*Later that day*

The soft hum of my vibrator was the only sound in our large airy bedroom. There was a slick sweat that coated my entire body. My hips were moving in rhythm, coming off the bed so I could get the most pressure on my clit. Noah had left the house for the afternoon to work on some fancy drum engineering stuff with Matt and Folio. This provided the perfect opportunity to finally get the release I needed.

The entire day sucked. Noah was extremely arrogant and moody all day. I knew this could only mean he was having a hard time with a new song. Although he had done a lot of work in therapy, these mood swings still came out. I didn't mind the mood swings occasionally, usually they led to really hot sex with Noah. Not today I guess...

The pleasure building throughout my pelvis started to become more intense at the thoughts of Noah throwing me around bed. I focused on this one particular time where Noah fucked me so hard I squirted all over him, making a huge mess. We ended up laughing about it for weeks afterwards. To this day I swear I actually peed, but he reassured me that was not the case.

Finally, my orgasm was right on the cusp. I continued the same swirl pattern on my clit allowing myself to go over the edge. I moaned so loudly; all the tension from earlier pouring out of me in waves of ecstasy. Fuck Noah and his stupid fucking rule, if I want to cum I will.

After my orgasm finished I set my vibrator back in the nightstand drawer, remade the bed, and took a quick shower. There would be no evidence for Noah to find.

When Noah came home, he was still a little off but seemed a lot happier. They must have cooked up something real good in the studio. I had no doubt Matt and Folio wrote some insane drum parts for the next album.

"What did you get up to today?" Noah asked quizzically, raising one eyebrow. It took all my energy to keep my cheeks from heating when he asked. I felt bad about lying but I could not deal with watching Noah get off once again without me.

"I just spent the day watching shows, and I did a bit of cleaning," I said casually. It wasn't a lie at all, I had cleaned the house and watched a few episodes of Attack On Titan.

"Interesting," Noah said slowly.

"Interesting indeed," I mimicked his tone.

With that Noah got off the couch and proceeded down the hallway towards our bedroom. I raced to follow his long strides, almost running into him as he stopped at my nightstand right inside the door.

"Are you sure you just cleaned and watched shows?" Noah asked as he opened the drawer to inspect the many toys I had.

"Yes I am sure," I said quietly.

"Try again... this time, don't lie," Noah said as he selected the very vibrator I had used earlier.

I had made one fatal error, I did not clean it off.

"Noah I..." but I was cut off by the a loud sniff. I watched as Noah ran his nose up the entire length of the vibrator, inhaling the now dried arousal I had produced earlier.

"You think I wouldn't recognize the smell of your pussy, y/n?" Noah said placing the vibrator down in the drawer. He turned slowly towards me, his height and muscular frame becoming menacing as the light faded away with the setting sun.

"What did I tell you earlier?" he said taking a step towards me, firmly grasping my throat with his hand. He wasn't cutting off my airway, he knew that was one thing that really scared me, but he knew his grasp could control anything I did.

"Noah, please. I can't watch you jerk off again. It drove me insane. Please, I'll do anything... please just please," I said stifling the sob that was coming up my throat.

"Tskk, y/n that wasn't part of the deal now was it love?" Noah said.

He kept one hand wrapped around my throat while he used the other to slowly pull down his pants. My eyes widened as I watched his cock spring free, already half hard just from the thought of me masturbating. A win is a win I suppose.

I looked up at Noah's eyes, they were pitch black in the dark room. He smirked at me as he leaned down and spit in his hand. My pussy almost flooded the entire room. The fucker knew how much I loved spit. His hand now started slowly moving up and down his cock, the only sound in the room was his saliva smacking as he rubbed.

His eyes rolled back slightly as he let his head hang, he seemed to have been waiting for another release all day. The mere thought he tortured me turned him on. God, I fucking hated him.

"Noah, I will literally get on my knees and beg right now. I cannot do this again," I said urgently as I noticed his pace quickened by the sound of his hand moving back and forth.

His hand let up slightly on my throat, I wasn't sure if it was from my pleads or because he was so turned on he was already falling apart. I used this opportunity to slip from his grasp, jumping into him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, legs around his waist.

Noah stumbled slightly backwards but maintained his balance as I literally attacked him. My mouth was on his before he could protest, our lips colliding with such force I was concerned I knocked a tooth out. I kissed him so deeply, forcing my tongue into his mouth to explore every inch. His tongue battled mine, trying to push mine away with no prevail. His arms snaked around me, resting just above my ass. I had him.

I ground my hips against his cock, the angle allowing me to rub my pussy up his length. I moved at an agonizing pace which earned a few frustrated huffs from Noah's mouth into mine.

Next thing I knew my back was against the bedroom wall, Noah now matching my hip thrusts with his own. His precum leaked all over my body, coating me in a sticky mess. Oh my god was I turned on.

I pulled away slightly, grabbing Noah's ear lob between my teeth. I whispered in a low sensual voice, "Fuck me like the naughty girl I am, Noah".

His cock slammed into me. Hard. I don't even know how it happened, I didn't remember him lining himself with my pussy.

The dark room now filled with the sounds of our skin slapping, us moaning, and my back pounding against the wall. He thrusted so hard I could barely even think, reaching the deepest part of my core.

I let my head fall back, smiling to myself as I knew I had won. Or had I?

Noah moved us to the bed, laying me in the mass of pillows that we had. We were often a little freaky in the bedroom. We had restraints already attached to the posts of our bed, awaiting to be used when Noah and I wanted.

Noah's cock left me while he moved to tie me to the bed. The Velcro cuffs were comfortable around my wrists and ankles. What I wasn't expecting was the sleep mask Noah placed around my head and over my eyes.

I couldn't move and I could not see, a dangerous game to play with a man who loved control.

My senses heightened as the anticipation did, I could feel the bed move but I had no idea where Noah was.

One finger. One finger trailed slowly from my ankle all the way up to my chin. He moved his finger as light as a feather, a trail of goosebumps following in its wake. My clit was practically screaming to be touched as another finger moved over my body, then three fingers fanned their way up. All purposely missing the one place I wanted to be touched. He didn't even give me a nipple touch.

One little kiss. One little soft kiss full of love was placed on my hip. Then another soft kiss on the other hip. One on my stomach. One on my right forearm, then the left. A soft kiss placed on my chin, forehead, right cheek, left. Then Noah softly brushed over my lips with his, a kiss that sent electricity throughout my body as it had the very first time he kissed me.

"I love you, Noah," I whispered out into the room, unsure where he was.

"I love you more," He replied as his finger lightly brushed over my pussy. He didn't apply enough pressure to breakthrough my folds, which was frustrating. My back arched slightly, seeking out his finger again. Instead I was met with hot breath, and one very wet tongue. Noah licked me this time, again he did so very lightly.

He pulled away, lifting one leg with him and placing it over his shoulder. He moved the other on his shoulder. Based on the position I was in, he must have been bent low on the bed or the restraints were let out enough to accommodate.

Teeth. I felt teeth next taking a small bite of my left inner thigh. It was only inches away from my pussy. He took another bite on my right inner thigh. Then he moved back to the other, inching slightly towards my center. Another, then another, then another, then... oh my god!!!

Noah took a small bite and pulled my clit with his teeth. It was hard enough to evoke shock throughout my entire body. It hurt, yet was quite satisfying. I felt my pussy clench around nothing, desperately wanting to be filled again by Noah's cock.

Noah released my clit, then brought his tongue back into the equation by spreading my folds open. His tongue was met with his lips, as he began licking and sucking my entire being. Now my hips began to move again, desperately seeking a release that I needed once again. Noah now moved lower, tongue fucking my pussy expertly by hooking it just inside. He pulled away only to spit on me, acting like his glorious meal was filth. Jesus, I couldn't take this any longer.

My moans began to get louder and louder, and so did the sounds coming from my pussy. The pleasure was now dimly burned in my lower belly, I could feel my toes begin to curl in the restraints.

"Noah, please.... I need to feel you inside... please," I whined desperately.

My legs were off his shoulders, my butt was back on the bed again.

Cock. I felt the head of his cock slowly moving up and down between my folds, doing slow circles around my clit before going back down. He slightly pressed in, just breaking through my entrance before moving back upwards. I moved my hips towards Noah's cock, moving against him to create more friction. He pulled away.

A few moments later he was back, moving slowly up and down again.

"Do you want it?" he cockily said as if he didn't already know the answer. I could hear his stupid smile from where my head rested. As if to prove his point, he put the entire tip in and thrusted only the tip which drove me insane. He pulled out asking again, by emphasizing every word he said, "Y/n, do... you... want.... it?"

"Do you want it?" I threw back, lifting my hips towards where I believed he was sitting. I giggled slightly, knowing I was being a brat and that I drove him crazy.

He chuckled back, "You really are such a naughty girl aren't you? Luckily you have such a pretty pussy".

His cock entered me again, but this time he went in all the way. I had no time to adjust to him before he was slamming into me once again. His arms were wrapped under my thighs, lifting me to the perfect angle. This time I knew he was just as needy as I was, his cock throbbed.

Noah grunted as he picked up the pace even more, his new workout regiment allowed him to have more stamina than ever. He was able to thrust harder and faster for longer. My moans once again filled the room in sync with his. I could hear the sound of our skin slapping against one another. He squeezed my thighs with his hands to keep from loosing grip, we both were coated in sweat now.

"Noah...." I warned, he knew I was close. My pussy was pulsing and throbbing, my orgasm was built up to the max.

"I know," he breathed back.

Suddenly, he was over me completely and his lips were grazing my ear. His moans filled my ears, sending me into a sensory overload as I plunged over. My orgasm came fast, I screamed out Noah's name which I knew probably hurt his ear. He road me through my orgasm for a few seconds before he pulled out. His cum sprayed all over my stomach and lower boobs. I felt each string as it landed on me. I had wished I could see it, but just feeling him release on me was enough. This was a punishment after all.

Once we both were done, Noah plopped on top of me creating even more of a mess for us to clean up.

"You do a great job at making rules and an even better job with your punishments," I laughed into the top of his head, rubbing it in that his punishment was indeed not sufficient for the crime.

"Yeah, yeah," he moaned into the crook of my neck.

I smiled to myself as Noah dozed off, until I realized he fell asleep on me and I couldn't move.

I suppose an impending uti was punishment indeed...

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

I hope you all enjoyed! I little different than I intended to write it but this just came to me and I think it works :)

[ash-is-dying]

Temporary Tattoo

A/N: Felt compelled to write a quick blurb after drawing one of these on my own hand. Idk guys the delulu is really getting to me today. Anyway enjoy!

Shy!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 782

Fluffy / Mildy Spicy Blurb

---

“Just stay still Eddie!”

“But you’re taking forever!”

The pen runs over his knuckles as you outline the bones on his hand. You had spent the entirety of calculus at the back drawing on Eddie’s hand. He had breached the topic of getting a skeleton hand tattoo so you had made the generous offer to be his temporary tattoo artist.

His various rings had been scattered across the desk and the sleeve of his hellfire shirt had been rolled the full way up his arm exposing his actual tattoos alongside the detailed sketch on his left hand. You sat knee to knee with the boy as the arm you’re drawing with pins his arm to the table and the other holds his hand flat.

For someone who was covered in hidden tattoos you’re genuinely surprised by how much he moved while you were working and how whiney he was being about you taking too long.

“How long?”

“Eddie I haven’t even done your wrist yet. Chill your balls. We’ve still got half an hour anyway.”

He throws his head back and sighs deeply. His other hand starts to fidget, miming the chords for some metal song or another. His eyes close and he looks like a toddler who’s been denied chocolate from the shops. His head lolls to the side to look at you.

You’re completely oblivious to the look he gives you as he studies your concentrated face, biting your lip and your brows furrowed as you smoothed over the outlines you had drawn. Unbeknownst to you the real reason he was so all over the place wasn’t because the tattoo was taking too long.

It was because you were the one drawing it.

When you had started your gentle touches had left him flinching, moving towards your warm hands. Hence the need for physical restraint. Eddie’s cheeks flushed the moment you had wrestled his arm under yours, your closeness making his heart jump start. He could spend hours here just having you draw all over him. He’d let you fill every gap between his tats if it meant he could keep you like this.

The only reason he was now encouraging you to hurry was because he didn’t need the artist girl he’d been crushing on for months noticing the semi he was sporting. He had tried to slide further under the desk to make it less obvious but the hold you had on his arm was making things increasingly harder.

In both ways.

“I don’t think we need to do the wrist, just my hand is fine-” he said sharply.

“But didn’t you want a half-sleeve anyway? Thought you wanted me to try the whole tattoo.”

“As cool as that would be I kinda need my arm back sweetheart-” He says with an edge of panic in his voice.

“Okay okay, I’ll be done in ten.”

The next ten minutes were probably the longest ten minutes of his life.

For the fine detailing you had made the decision that you needed to get even closer. You had rotated his arm and had folded your leg over his, just adjacent to where he desperately needed you not to be. He watched anxiously as you shifted to finish off the tattoo. He genuinely tried to sink into his chair and disappear. If you had even a hint of what was happening under the desk he would be absolutely mortified.

“Why do you get so many tattoos Eds?”

Her sudden question pulls him out of his head. “Oh- um. I guess because they look cool? And they help me express a part of myself that I want to show people rather than tell them about.”

“Fair enough.” There’s a long pause. “Can I ask you something?”

Eddie’s brows raise in concern. “Yes?”

“Do you get this turned on for all your tattoo artists or just me?”

The silence is deafening as his eyes widen in shock and realization. He stutters as you move off of his lap unable to find the words. The bell goes and you begin to pack up your things not sparing him a glance until you put your hand on his shoulder and lean to whisper in his ear.

“If you ever need another tattoo done… call me okay.”

You give his cheek a quick peck as you turn away and walk out of the room with a flush on your face, leaving behind an extremely flustered and red faced Eddie. He looks down at his arm. It’s amazing of course. But what really catches his eye is the messily written phone number on the underside of his arm.

Maybe he will get another temporary tattoo.

[v3nusxsky]

hi love i hope you are doing well!!

can you do a sub rissa x r where rissa is sitting on r’s face and r just keeps eating her until she so overstimulated with aftercare and CUDDLES ☺️☺️☺️

Queen of the show 18+

*Authors note~ kinda ran wild with this one, I hope that's okay. I'm also hella obsessed with like cam girl Larissa for some reason.*

Trigger warnings~porn stars sub Larissa dom r oral sex overstimulation kink, praise kink, degrading kink, edging, bondage blindfold kink small vibe

Prompt~see ask^^^^

You have always been a fan of not a secret but private, after all what happened between you and your girlfriend was for the two of you to know and he rest to wonder. However, that wasn't completely true  but no one else knew that. When you first mentioned the cam recordings you engaged in, you expected Larissa to run a mile. But instead, she asked to sit in the background, out of shot, as she watched you work. A slight pang of jealousy ran through the blonde as you read out the comments to your watchers. The way your words could rile up strangers had her desperately needing to show them she was yours. Not there's.

From that day on you both decided to do the cams together, faceless of course, after all Larissa had a reputation to uphold. You understood her wishes and you were already use to blurring your own face so your editing skills would definitely be adequate. Knowing how busy your submissive lover is, your decided to happily take over planning and editing, all Larissa would have to do is relax. You knew each others limits and kinks, and with a simple chat you had your own set of rules for the cam, you explained how everything would work and reminded her she didn't have to do this if she didn't want to.  On the day of your first couple video, you spent all day teasing the blonde, flirty text messages and lingering touches had the woman driven insane with need for you. That was just how you wanted her for tonight.

You set the camera up with the desired angles and managed to secure the ties to the bed frame all in preparation for her arrival, the lights down low ready for you both to get naughty. "Come to our room my sweet" you shot the text off and knew she would instantly follow the instruction. With the gravity of the situation you made sure to shower her in kisses and praise. Slowly, you stripped clothing from the woman until she was left in a beautiful lacy deep crimson set, covering just the right amount to be teasing yet classy. Simply Larissa Weems.

"Ready Ris?" You murmured to the blonde, as you helped her get into the position you truly wanted her in. "Please, I don't care if they see, I want to be yours" she whined testing the restraints. "Oh they well Ris, my sweet girl aren't you?" You teased causing her to nod enthusiastically. "Hey guys, todays stream is going to be different, as you can see we have a guest of honour here tonight" you we're addressing the people that were flooding in and completely ignoring the principal who was spread out on the bed.  "Behave princess, and maybe just maybe I'll let you show all my friends how pretty you are when you cum all over my face, you'd like that right? Of course you would because your a dirty girl who would love that."

You lifted your lovers head up to tie the blindfold securely around her head, "much better, so fucking pretty like this" you murmured before attacking the tall woman's neck, the camera having a perfect view as you sucked purple bruises onto her neck. Larissa couldn't help but whine pathetically for you and attempt to arch her back into your lips. "Please" she mewled hoping to plead with you, only to be ignored. "Guys, shall we play with her beautiful boobs here? Or delve right into her slutty cunt? Let me tell you she smelled Devine."

Comments flew in about your mysterious guest and how lucky she is, more votes to eating Larissa out had you stripping the woman of her lacy underwear before finding the little vibe you hid in your pocket. Ever so gently stroking it over her throbbing clit as she attempted to wither underneath you. You decided to share the holy sight with your viewers, reaching round to move the camera so her sopping pussy would be on full display. From there, your viewers had the perfect view to see how her cunt quivered with need. "Such a responsive thing for me, so pretty too. Tell me, does it turn you on knowing all these people see how much of a whore you are for me? Slut, stop bucking your hips, you no better than to be so greedy!"

"BlackWiddow01~ taste her already! She's absolutely dripping, such a pretty whore"

"lizb00b03~ I wish I was her, want you so bad"

"User018379~ I bet she's so pretty, show her face!"

"No guys, we will not be showing our faces, but feel free to keep gifting your tips, they are all greatly appreciated" you addressed the camera before turning back to the blonde. The notifications going wild as donations and tips flooded in. "Pretty girl, I've been cruel to my sweet girl haven't I? Shall I be nice now? Or shall I edge you more?" It was mainly rhetorical but the audience were on the same page as you. "Please I'll be good" the blonde whimpered.

"Witchy3940 ~ donated £50"

"Simpforwoman74902 ~ donated £10"

"Pretty pup899 ~ donated £15"

"Lesbinerd6456 ~ tipped £100 for you to overstimulate her like a bitch in heat"

"Now that's an excellent idea" you murmured before kissing all over her plush thighs, only when you had successfully kissed every inch of her thighs did you finally bring your mouth to her core, the heat radiating from it. Eating Larissa out was probably one of your favourite things in the world, she always tasted like a mix of strawberries and oranges. Addictive and delicious. With every swipe of your tongue, or harsh suck on her sensitive bud Larissa was reacting more vocally than ever before, that's why it was no surprise when she came violently over your long wet muscle that was being plunged into her quivering hole.

But you didn't stop there, you couldn't. And your viewers were more than happy to encourage you to overstimulate your guests as donations became higher and quicker. Larissa being thrown from one orgasm to have the next built up so quickly she had no clue when one ended and a new one began. "Please please more please" she whined causing you to bring her pearly bud between your lips and plunge two fingers into her now gushing cunt. "Yes fuck there! Wish it was your cock" the blonde mewled after letting out a near enough pornographic moan.

Time after time again, she was thrown to new highs of pleasure until she had tears soaking through the blindfold and please to stop, she couldn't handle more, but you didn't care. "One more pretty girl, just one more for me. Doing so good baby. Cum for me sweet girl, just let go" you murmured as your fingers repeatedly hit her sweet spot causing her to cry out as her vision blurred to white, and an unmatched pleasure coursed through her veins. As diligent as ever you worked the woman back from the highs, noticing how fucked out she truly was before closing your cams, with the prospect of Larissa's return.

Once the cam was off you immediately set to undoing her bindings and taking her blindfold off before moving to get her water with ice cubes, you knew it was her favourite way to cool down, and items to clean the blondes sensitive cunt. When the warm wash cloth hit her core, all she could do is whimper and plead for you to stop, too much pleasure. "Shhh darling, I'm just cleaning you up my love" you murmured lovingly before pressing sweet kisses all over her face, "you did so good sweet girl, they loved you. How do you feel my darling?"

"Like I want to do that again. Show them your my dom" she purred before coming to nuzzle into your neck. "Hold me?" She whispered and you instantly complied, threading your fingers from her blonde curls. "Sleep darling, it's all going to be okay my love, you're such a good girl."

Word count~ 1433

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 28)

WARNING: Mentions of death and miscarriage

—————

“Grip it like this, there you go. You’re going to bring your shoulder back and then…” 

Tywin was standing directly behind me, hands and arms on top of mine as I held the fishing rod. He motioned with me, bringing my dominant hand backward and then promptly bringing it forward, casting the line into the water. I smiled, turning back to him rather proudly. 

“I’m slowly getting the hang of it.”

“Yes, you are. You can go ahead and prop it up until there’s a bite,” he instructed, motioning to the wooden stand beside me. I did so, making sure it was firmly in place before looking at him again. 

Tywin was sitting on a large rock, and I giggled to myself as I moved over and sat on his lap, facing away from him so I could watch the rod. It caught him rather off guard, but he gave me a low hum and brought his hands down along my arm. 

“Is everything alright, my lord?” I teased, fully aware that he was rather enjoying our position. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to my neck.

“You ought to be more careful, wife. If you continue to provoke me, I’m afraid my restraint will grow thin and I’ll have no choice but to ravish you here in the open,” he teased, arms wrapping around my waist now. I turned my head a bit and kissed him, rather amused by this sentiment.

“In front of all your guards?”

“What will they do? Spread rumors that a man is fucking his wife?” Tywin pointed out, making me shake my head. He was far too much sometimes, though deep down I loved it. 

He began to reach forward, hands grabbing at my skirts. I held my breath as he started to lift them, one hand creeping underneath and coming to my thigh. 

“Tywin…” I whispered, trying to caution him but perhaps spurring him on by accident. HIs hand continued to raise, but I noticed the line tug just before he reached his destination. I instantly got up, moving forward and beginning to pull the line in. 

“Be careful with it. Go slowly,” Tywin instructed from his seat, watching me carefully and rolling up his sleeves. He had forgone his coat today, opting for something more casual. Similarly, I was wearing something fairly loose and plain. 

With as much precision and care as I could, I reeled in the line, beginning to laugh when I pulled the fish ashore. I flexed my gloved hand, reaching down and grabbing it from among the rocks. Tywin stood then, preparing to show me how I ought to hit it against the rock since it was still squirming. He placed one hand on my back and the other on top of mine. 

“The movement doesn’t need to be violent, or that strong. You’re just tapping it like this,” he explained, moving my wrist more than anything as we hit the fish against the stone. It was a curious thing, and I’d never realized this was part of fishing. I had honestly just assumed it involved standing near the shore for hours and waiting.

I threw it into the basket, absolutely full from some fishing that Tywin had done without me. I had decided on breakfast with Margaery and Tommen this morning, for they had desired to hear all about the trip to Casterly Rock.

It had truthfully been quite nice, and I enjoyed a great deal of Tywin’s family. None more than Genna, of course, for she had been a constant companion the entire week. She managed to convince Tywin to take us out to Lannisport, where we had enjoyed quite a lot of local goods and received most of them for free. Though I certainly suspected that Tywin had paid them afterwards anyways, for he was continually walking behind us.

Beyond that, Tywin and I spent a good day out hunting, spending the night out under the stars and enjoying a delicious meal just as we had years ago. On top of that, the most curious thing had happened. We had seen a White Hart.

Tywin and I had merely been walking through the woods, set on finding a stag or two when I heard a branch snap nearby. I had turned then, and immediately gripped his arm. Tywin had been just as shocked as I to see the large, beautiful animal. Neither of us lifted our weapons an inch, utterly shocked. As far as we were concerned, White Harts were only found in the Kingswood. Evidently not.

I had not told Margaery and Tommen about that, though. I had the odd notion that perhaps only Tywin and I were meant to see it, even if that was irrational logic. 

“You’re going to get quite good at fishing,” Tywin said, snapping me from my thoughts. I turned to him, raising a curious eyebrow. He was sitting on the rock again, and he invited me to sit on his knee. I smiled and did so, running my hand over his hair and kissing his cheek.

“What gives you that impression?”

“You’ve always been a rather quick learner. Plus, this is a good way for us to get out of the keep without having to go so far as the Kingswood,” Tywin reasoned, adjusting the line before handing me the rod. I stood up, taking a few steps forward and casting it out just as he had shown me. He looked rather proud when I turned around to check for approval. 

“We ought to stay out here all day, Tywin. It’s far too nice out to spend it inside that wretched keep,” I said, taking a deep breath in. This little shore beside the Red Keep was one of the few outdoor places in Kings Landing that did not entirely smell awful. Instead, it merely smelled of the sea, and I found that comforting somehow. 

“It is rather nice, isn’t it? There have been birds chirping all morning,” Tywin noted, looking around. A few were flying around, but I suspected the mass choir must’ve been hiding in a bush somewhere. 

“It sounds like there are quite a lot of mockingbirds and sparrows somewhere. It’s lovely,” I observed, listening closer and identifying a few different calls I was familiar with. My husband nodded, looking around. It seemed neither of us could quite identify where they were coming from. 

“I think you’ve got another bite there,” Tywin said, making me instantly turn and reach for the line. I began pulling it in, smiling as I grabbed it from the hook and moved to hit it against the rock. Tywin had been correct, I certainly was a quick learner. 

“It must be tiring, Tywin, to have a wife who is good at nearly everything she does,” I teased, propping my knee up on his leg and placing my hands on his shoulder. He glanced up at me with an amused look. 

“It is tiring to have a wife who is so modest,” he japed, making me laugh rather loudly and smack his arm. I leaned down and kissed him anyway. He gave me a low chuckle as I did, hand cupping my face.

“We ought to go back in. Tommen may have taken the day to go pray at the sept, but I fear I still have work. Plus, this is more than enough for us to have for dinner tonight,” Tywin said with a sigh, looking down at our full basket. I frowned just for a moment, but I didn’t let him see it. 

“Of course. The king shits and the hand wipes,” I said, smiling at the condescending look my husband gave me for using that saying. He utterly detested it, and that of course only inspired me to use it more.

Tywin picked up the basket with one hand and then offered me the other arm. I took it, of course, and accompanied him up the steps to the walkway. He handed it to one of his guards.

“Take this to the kitchen,” he commanded, continuing to walk once it was entirely in the other man's hands. I raised an eyebrow.

“Would it hurt you to say please or thank you? Do you need to relearn those words like a toddler?” I joked, wondering why he was constantly so kurt with the people around him. At least he was always decent to Cerella, even if it only was because I had insisted upon it. Cerella had been my one confidant in King's Landing, one of the few people who did not work for Littlefinger, Varys, Cersei, or Tywin. In a way, she had begun reporting to me. That was more for our personal enjoyment, however. Any scheming would come from either my grandmother or Margaery. 

“I thank them by paying them more than I ought to,” Tywin grumbled, helping me with my skirts as we went up more stairs.

“I’m merely suggesting that it costs you absolutely nothing to show more personal gratitude. Especially after they stood there watching us kiss and flirt for about an hour,” I noted, laughing to myself and shaking my head. They were lucky I hadn’t allowed Tywin to go any further. 

“Ahuh. I’ll consider it.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing he was absolutely ridiculous. A ridiculous man with ridiculous chambers I thought to myself, absolutely sick of going up stairs. There was a reason nobles in the Red Keep never developed gout.

“You said Tommen is visiting the sept today?” I questioned, recalling what he’d said earlier. Tywin nodded with a sigh.

“Yes. According to Tyrion, he’s been going quite a bit, usually with your sister but sometimes without. I believe she told him about the miscarriage, for he asked me what would happen if he didn’t have children yesterday,” he explained, making me feel rather melancholy. I was half surprised and half not that Margaery had decided to tell him.

“I see. And what did you tell him?” I questioned, knowing that Tommen’s claim to the throne was already rather weak, and meaning that if no heir was produced the succession would be quite a mess.

“I told him not to worry about such things yet. He and Margaery are still young, I’m not concerned.”

“And- And what if Margaery is infertile, Tywin? I won’t stand by and watch her be killed trying to birth a son as so many women are,” I questioned, voicing my fears on the subject. It was one of the most compromising things for any highborn woman. 

“I don’t genuinely believe that to be the case, but should they continue to try with no success, then the line of succession will come into question a bit more prominently. It is not a concern for me currently,” he reasoned, giving me a reassuring look. I sighed, nodding and trying to swallow whatever uneasy feeling I had. I was always prone to worrying for my siblings, even if Tywin was probably right. 

We had reached his chambers, and I was relieved to finally be done. I wondered if perhaps the tower of the hand had been designed as a joke, merely to add another burden onto the person already doing so much work.

“Can I pick your coat for the day?” I asked excitedly, smiling as we entered the bedroom. Tywin nodded casually, knowing I rather enjoyed dressing him. I opened up his closet, looking through and pondering my options. I reached for his smooth, black leathered one. It was a favorite of mine, because whenever it was under the light, a gorgeous golden pattern was revealed. It was very Tywin, seen as merely dark and straightforward but actually quite detailed and complex.

“Here, this one,” I said, motioning for him to turn around so I could help him into it. He gave a subtle smile, doing so and shrugging the garment on. 

“Am I allowed to choose what gown you wear? Since I’ve granted you permission to choose my coat,” Tywin questioned rather smugly, clearly wanting to. Even if I said no, I knew he would end up picking. 

“Go on, Tywin. Have it your way.”

He lifted my chin with his index finger, pressing a chaste kiss to my forehead before beginning to look through his options. I was almost entirely certain he was going to pick out something red, which was rather unfortunate because I’d been wearing the damned color the entire time we were at Casterly Rock. To my surprise, he pulled out a dress that was distinctly Tyrell.

“This one?” I questioned as he handed it to me. Tywin instantly nodded.

“I’ve missed seeing you in your flowery dresses. As you said, you will always be (Y/N) Tyrell. Not Lannister. I’ve enjoyed picturing you as one for the last week or so, but red is not the only color that flatters you,” he explained, scanning my face. I couldn’t resist a smile, especially as he began to help me change into it. There was something so dear to me about being a Tyrell. We weren’t as honorable as Starks, as conniving as Lannisters, or as wild as Martells, but we were somewhere in between. And even if our words were dull, they perhaps made us the most unsuspecting, and that had always done us well. Plus, as commander of the largest army in Westeros, how could I let that identity go?

“Do you want to know something interesting, wife?”

I turned around, facing Tywin now that he’d finished with the back of my gown. I raised an eyebrow, suspecting that he was going to make a rather stupid comment.

“What is it, husband?”

“As much as I enjoy seeing you dressed in Lannister colors, I have missed this aspect of southern fashion,” he said, holding my gaze before motioning to my cleavage with his eyes. I only scoffed, having already known he was going to make that joke. 

“Well I’m glad you enjoy it, Tywin. Although I must say, for a man who sees me entirely naked nearly every night, I would think you ought to be used to it by now,” I pointed out, holding his chin between my fingers and forcing him to actually look at my eyes. He instantly shook his head.

“No. I will never be used to it, I promise you that. What I especially enjoy is watching all the men stare when you walk by. They stare so desperately, as if begging you to notice them. They want you more than anything, and you never even notice them because you’re too busy holding my arm and smiling at me. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel, (Y/N)?” 

Tywin was holding my face, and I could feel the intensity of every word he spoke. I had no clue what to say, as my words felt stuck in my throat, but my heart was pounding; I loved this man so unbelievably much.

I was about to open my mouth and reply, but we heard the faint knock from the main doors to Tywin’s chambers. Of course, if we could hear it in his bedroom, it was rather loud. 

We broke apart from each other, both wondering who could be out there. Tywin had assured me he had no meetings when we decided to go fishing this morning. 

Suddenly, the distinct sound of the bells ringing echoed through Kings Landing, and we instantly looked at each other with the distinct understanding that something was very wrong. Rushing out of his bedroom, we were met with a frantic looking Jaime, who had burst in despite being unannounced. I felt my stomach drop.

“Father! Father…” 

Jaime rushed toward us looking quite shaken, and both Tywin and I were absolutely frantic as we awaited his news.

“What’s happened?” Tywin asked quickly, watching his son swallow to catch his breath.

“It’s Tommen… he- he was on his way back from the sept and enormous amounts of wildfire were thrown in lit tubs from the house windows. His carriage exploded instantly… he didn’t stand a chance,” Jaime explained, choking back tears. 

For a moment, I glanced at Tywin, who seemed both deeply upset and furious. He'd always had a gentle affection for Tommen, and I was certain that this hurt much more than it had to lose Joffrey. The fury, of course, would rain hell down upon the assassins. 

None of that was currently crossing my mind, however. There was only one thing I wanted to know.

“My sister! Margaery! Is Margaery ok?” I asked in a panic, stepping forward and grabbing Jaime’s arms. He nodded instantly, trying to calm me by holding my shoulders too.

“She didn’t go with him. She stayed behind this morning, feeling somewhat ill,” he assured me, instantly relieving some of my fear. 

“Which members of the kingsguard were with him?” Tywin questioned with a scowl. Jaime thought about it and sighed.

“Meryn Trant was with him, I know that much. Whoever else, they’re all dead now,” he said, hands clasping onto his belt. He couldn’t meet his fathers eyes.

“Does Cersei know?” Tywin asked after a brief silence, to which Jaime shook his head ‘no’. My husband nodded, sighing out. I moved away from Jaime and placed my hand on his back, rubbing it gently.

“I’m going to tell her right now.”

“Go on then. Keep her in her chambers, I will go speak with her shortly,” he instructed, to which Jaime nodded. He left us then, and we were alone.

There was silence for a minute as we both processed the news we had just received, although the bells had continued to ring. I wondered if they would slowly drive me insane. 

“Please tell me… it was not you.”

I turned to Tywin, furrowing my eyebrows with a slight hurt. I knew I couldn’t blame him for wondering such a thing after what I had done to Joffrey, but I hated feeling as though he didn’t trust me.

“No, of course not. I would never have harmed Tommen. He was good to my sister, and he would’ve been a good king. He- He was such a sweet boy… I don’t understand why…” I trailed off, trying to consider who would’ve possibly wanted him dead. Tywin relaxed, knowing I was right. I had no need to want Tommen gone, and I had never been unreasonable about that sort of thing. He took me in his arms then, and I squeezed tightly. Though he wouldn’t dare show it, I knew this had saddened him quite a bit.

“You ought to go to Margaery. I suspect she will need you just as Cersei will need me,” he whispered after a moment, and I knew he was correct. I had intended to go even before he’d said it.

“I know. I expect people will convene in the great hall afterwards… there is much to discuss,” he sighed, pulling back and kissing my forehead. I nodded, reaching for his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Will you be alright, Tywin?”

“Yes, my dear. All will be well. Go to Margaery now, hm? I will- I will see you later.”

There was a sort of sadness in his voice as he said it, almost as if he knew something I didn’t. I was unfamiliar with the look on his face, and it made me nervous. After a moment, I realized I did know it.

Defeat.

Something about seeing that expression on my husband made my blood run cold, but I forced myself to push aside my concern. Margaery needed me. Yes, Margaery needed me.

I held Tywin’s hand as I moved away, only letting go once I was physically too far away to continue. I turned my back then, leaving the room and picking up pace once I was outside. That was the last conversation I would have with the Hand of the King.

—————

Cersei could not look at Jaime. It was too painful. She had known this would happen, one way or another. The prophecy dictated that Myrcella would die too, and that fear had also gripped Cersei. She knew she couldn’t take losing her last child, for the news she had just received was already painful enough. 

“Cersei?”

The sound of the door to her chambers opening and the voice of her father instantly made her head snap around. She found him standing in the doorway, a sort of frantic look on his face. To see her father at this moment was the last straw, and she could not hold back sobs as she rose from her sofa, rushing into his arms. Tywin’s rare comforts made them all the more important when she received them. 

“Father… Father…” she whispered, crying against the cool black leather of his coat. One of his arms had wrapped around her, and the other hand was holding the back of her head. Slowly, he had begun to pet her blonde hair. 

“I know, Cersei. I know.”

The sound of his voice in her ear managed to make her cry even more, but she needed it. Oh Tommen, her sweet boy. The rhythmic falling of Tywin’s chest was a small comfort, and somehow from this perspective she felt that all would be well. She felt safe behind the unbreakable defenses that her father had spent his entire life putting up, even if in truth they were an illusion. Well, it would not matter if other men continued to see it too.

“Father- on the way here I was informed that they caught the assassins. It was a small group of sparrows… it is believed to be an act of retaliation for the way they were suppressed,” Jaime said suddenly, swallowing awkwardly and hoping this would not upset his father. But of course, this would infuriate Tywin. How could it not?

He had been merciful by only beheading the High Sparrow and for what? The ‘public opinion’ had cost the life of his grandson, and a sort of guilt filled him. It was his fault for doing something he hated: taking half measures. 

“Let the crime fit the punishment then. They’ll meet their end with wildfire,” Tywin scowled, fury in his eyes as he looked at his son. Cersei lifted her head, her red and wet eyes finding her fathers. She said nothing, but Tywin understood that this look was one of gratitude. His daughter had certainly always been one for revenge and theatrics, after all. 

“What of their trials?”

“I will preside, of course. As will Mace Tyrell. Perhaps Tyrstane Martell as our third. Dorne needs to be brought into the fold more directly,” Tywin suggested, still holding Cersei in his arms. As much as he wished to save this conversation for later, he knew it would not be avoided.

“What if they demand a trial by combat?” Jaime questioned, knowing that the Mountain was no longer an option. Tywin’s jaw went rigid for a moment, and he squinted his eyes in contemplation.

“Then so be it, let them face my wife. They could all face her at once and they still wouldn’t stand a damn chance.”

Jaime was surprised to hear it, and he reflected that perhaps Tywin had a newfound trust in you. He supposed you had killed the Mountain, but putting you in any sort of risky situation always made his father nervous. Although, now that the Mountain was dead, he doubted there really was anyone in Westeros that could manage to beat you. And it’s not as if the sparrows exactly had a wide array of choices, either.

 Jaime wordlessly nodded at his father, looking down and walking towards the door. As he did, Tywin reached out, letting his hand come to Jaime’s shoulder. All would be well. 

After a moment, Cersei was alone with her father, and she began to fear she might pass out. Her head was swimming, and she could hardly focus. She gripped Tywin’s arms, taking a deep breath to try and stabilize herself.

“You ought to sit down, Cersei,” he suggested softly, helping her back toward the sofa. She sat down compliantly, staring at the floor through her teary eyes. Her hands would not stop trembling, and she felt as if she was stuck. There always is a feeling of utter helplessness when tragedy strikes. 

“Here, drink. It’ll help,” Tywin said, pouring water into a glass and then striding across the room. He held it out to Cersei, but she shook her head and looked down.

“I don’t want water. I want wine.”

“I’m not going to give you wine. Drink, Cersei.”

It was more of a command that time, and she knew that her father would have his way. She relented and took the cup, taking a slow sip of water. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d tasted anything but wine, and it felt awfully sobering. Tywin sat down beside her as she drank, pulling her into his side and resting his head on top of hers. 

“I cannot offer you your son back, Cersei, but I will give you justice. I promise you that,” he whispered, sighing deeply. Cersei shook her head, beginning to cry again.

“I thought that Oberyn Martell’s death would bring me peace. I thought it would soothe the loss of Joffrey and it never did. I just want Tommen back,” she sobbed, leaning into his shoulder. Her father knew the feeling all too well. Killing the maester who had delivered Tyrion had never made Tywin feel Joanna’s death less sharply. He wished it had been the maesters fault.

“I know, Cersei, and I’m sorry. I am so sorry,” he muttered, wrapping his arms around her entirely. He had developed a headache in the last half hour, and he knew it would not go away for quite some time. He wished he had decided to enjoy another ten minutes fishing with you.

“What of Myrcella? Now that Tommen is gone… she is the last child of Robert Baratheon,” Cersei wondered, voice cracking as she cried. For a moment, she genuinely believed herself. Tywin sighed, shaking his head.

“The succession will inevitably become a problem. Most of the lords of Westeros will not want a queen on the throne, even if it has been 200 years since the dance of dragons. Some will support her claim, but not nearly enough. No matter what happens, the stability of our family will be prioritized. I will not tolerate any conflicts over a useless chair. The only thing that matters is our family. So long as we hold power, it doesn’t matter who bears the title of king or queen,” he assured Cersei, sighing out. The last thing he would ever allow was the destruction of their family, especially because it would make them no better than the Targaryens. 

“Does Jaime’s position in the Kingsguard disqualify him?” Cersei questioned softly, feeling her fathers thumbs wiping her wet cheeks. She was still leaning against him.

“I don’t believe it’s ever happened before. I would assume so, but it is another reason why court will be especially messy. I expect people have already begun to yell and argue over the subject,” Tywin reasoned, shaking his head with absolute disappointment. Why had the gods subjected him to such a position? It truly was a curse to be so good at this job.

“If not Myrcella and not Jaime, will it go to Tyrion?” 

While Tywin’s contempt for his youngest son had considerably lessened over the last few years, mostly due to your fresh perspective, Cersei’s certainly had not. As far as she was concerned, Tyrion was 100% responsible for her mothers death.

“He has the most ‘legal’ claim, yes…”

There was a sort of hesitation in her fathers voice that made Cersei curious. She lifted her head, her eyes finding Tywin’s and holding his gaze. It only took her a few seconds to realize. Neither of them said a thing, wordlessly realizing both understood the scenario.

“How will they decide?”

“I imagine they will call up a council and vote just as they did during King Jaehaerys’ reign. It will also depend on whether or not there is a chance that his wife is pregnant.”

Cersei nodded, sighing and holding her father again. She couldn’t help but wonder if someday the history books would mention this. She felt entirely certain that the last decade had dealt with more problems and claims to the iron throne than all of Westerosi history. She found herself wondering how much more complicated the court would make it today. 

—————

“Margaery?”

When I entered her room, I could not find my sister. I scanned the room, thinking perhaps she was in bed or in the privy. When I realized she wasn’t, panic settled inside me. I called out for her again, louder this time. 

“I’m out here.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, rushing toward the balcony and looking around. I found her sitting on the floor, arms wrapping around her legs. She had been sitting directly in front of a column, and therefore I had not seen her at first. Margaery’s eyes were red and slightly puffy, and I could tell she had been crying. I slid down the side of the pillar, sitting beside her.

“I’m so sorry, Margaery,” I whispered, kissing her forehead as she leaned onto my shoulder. She sniffled again before speaking.

“He was such a sweet boy, (Y/N). He didn’t deserve to die, especially not like that,” she muttered, a few more tears falling from her eyes. I nodded, reaching across her and gently rubbing her arm.

“No, he didn’t.”

We were silent for a moment, and then I felt my sister swallow. She looked up at me, a deep pain in her face.

“Did you hear? It was the sparrows. They were upset over the beheading and they… they wanted revenge. Ser Elias told me they found them and put them in the black cells. They’ll stay there until their trials,” Margaery revealed, making my eyebrows raise with surprise. I would’ve asked how she had found that out before I had, but I knew better with the way that news traveled in King's Landing.

“Tywin will make certain that Tommen receives justice. He’ll probably ask father to be a judge again, and of course father will vote however Tywin would like him to,” I said, feeling rather confident about that fact if nothing else. When Margaery said nothing, I instantly looked over. More tears were falling from her face now.

“It’s my fault. I told him about the miscarriage right after you left. I felt bad that I had kept it for him so long so I… I told him. That’s why he’s been visiting the sept so much. He’s been praying for a child…” Margaery admitted, beginning to full on sob. I instantly wrapped her in my arms, shaking my head vehemently.

“No, Margaery. Never say that again. Never. It is not your fault. If the sparrows wanted revenge, they would’ve gotten it one way or another. And I know I shouldn’t say such a thing but… I’m glad that it was only him. If you had been in that carriage too, I- I don’t know…”

Suddenly, I was on the verge of tears too, and I couldn’t even finish my sentence. All I could do was clutch Margaery even tighter, petting her soft brown hair. The thought that I might’ve lost her today if she had decided to go with Tommen was terrifying. I hated that I was so powerless against death, especially when it came to my family.

“What hurts even more is that… well, the reason I stayed behind this morning was because I got my monthly and was feeling rather nauseous. There’s not even a chance that I’m carrying his child,” she sighed, leaning into my palm as I wiped her tears. 

“Oh Margaery… I’m sorry.”

She had always wanted a child, and the prospect of a future king had only enhanced that desire. And no matter who succeeded Tommen, marriage to them wasn’t exactly an option for Margaery. Myrcella was both married and a woman, and of course Tyrion was married to Roslin Frey with a child on the way. I supposed if Jaime was to be relieved of his vows, then perhaps there was that, but I had a general feeling that that would not happen. 

“Every single man I marry seems to die. I’m cursed,” Margaery sighed, laughing at herself with a sense of self-deprecation. 

“No, sweet girl. You’re not cursed… certainly unlucky, but not cursed. You will find happiness one day, Margaery. You’re still young, you have plenty of time.”

“But what man will want a woman who has been married three times already?” she sighed defeatedly, leaning her head back against the stone pillar. 

“A man who loves you very much. Or, perhaps you’ll even end up with a woman,” I suggested, and we both began to smile.

“Father would rejoice. Two homosexual children, and a third obsessed with sword fighting and opposed to children,” she remarked, making me laugh and shake my head.

“Well, he’ll have at least one child. I pray it’s a girl, it would be lovely to see highgarden passed on to a woman.”

“Yes, it certainly would.”

We sat in silence for a while, and I reflected that the birds were still singing just as they had been all morning. The only difference was that in the last hour, it seemed that one species of bird had begun to sing much louder. The Sparrows.

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[soap-lady]

A little suffering for me, a little pleasure for you

@tenebrare @angelqueen13art @idreamtofmanderleyagain

For the three people who like my writing, a little more.

Elliot Spencer is human catnip

The idea of a “welcome wagon” or a “welcoming committee” is a time-honored tradition (depending on the culture) that is sadly dying out. People in the neighborhood, mainly members of the Neighborhood Watch, usually led by either the person who had lived in the area the longest or the richest resident.

People, usually women, would arrive at a new neighbor’s house with food and information for services in the area; favored landscaping services, handymen, or repairmen. They would also leave their numbers in case the new resident had an emergency or wanted their house watched while on vacation.

The people in the neighborhood surrounding 55 Ludovico were less concerned with being neighborly and more concerned with satisfying their curiosity about the ones who lived there. They had all heard varying accounts about the death of “Poor Larry”, his less than friendly second wife, Julia, and that no-account wastrel of a brother, Frank. They were vaguely aware Larry had an adult daughter from his first marriage, a very pretty brunette named Kirsty. Somehow she had barely escaped being murdered herself when Frank went crazy and murdered his brother and his sister-in-law before turning his weapon on himself.

Also there was a pretty blond girl who lived there (no one recognized her so she didn’t matter as much) and a dashingly handsome man in his early thirties.

No one knew his name yet; he spent all day indoors and occasionally could be seen walking to and from the car with the blonde teen or the Cotton girl. He waved when waved to and had once helped old Mrs. Standish when she dropped her cane. Mrs. Standish reported that the man had pretty blue eyes and so did the blonde girl so they must have been related. Larry Cotton had blue eyes and blond hair so everyone wondered if he was somehow a distant cousin of the Cottons. Perhaps that meant he’d be living there awhile and was available. He seemed a bit too old for the Cotton girl but Ms. Greene had seen the Steve boy young Miss Cotton had been dating show up once only to be chased off so there was a breakup story somewhere. No one really liked Steve; he couldn’t park worth a damn and had once destroyed Mrs. Standish’s begonia by parking on them.

So the neighborhood welcoming committee had waited for the blond girl to go to school, driven by Miss Cotton and knocked on the door, hoping the handsome man would be home. There was no answer.

Mrs. Standish turned to Ms. Greene. “Maybe he went with the Cotton girl to take the little one to school.”

“I would have seen him leave if he had,” Ms. Greene worked from home most days and her office window faced the Cotton house. She always kept the blinds slightly open to watch the comings and goings of the neighborhood and was ever on the alert to see the tall slim man.

“I’ll knock again.”

Mrs. Standish shifted the Tupperware container she carried (avocado green, a relic from the 70s) to her left hand and knocked again.

The five other women with them shifted from foot to foot with bored impatience. They’d waited almost a month for the newcomers to get settled in before coming over and they wanted their restraint rewarded with a glimpse inside the house and maybe some juicy gossip to lord over everyone else.

This time they heard footsteps, a mechanical click, and the slide of wood against wood as the door opened and a man stepped out. His clothing was simple; a navy V-neck and gray denim with brown dress shoes but he wore it with grace and style. His blue eyes slid over all of them, wary and assessing. Suddenly he smiled and every woman present (the one stay at home dad on the block had a dental emergency with his youngest) stood a little straighter and smiled back.

“Good morning, ladies,” his accent was crisp and British. “What brings you by today?” His eyes glanced over their heads as if searching for something or someone. “I’m afraid Kirsty is out at the moment but I’m sure she’ll be home shortly.”

“Oh, that’s quite all right, dear,” Mrs. Standish patted his arm, paused and then squeezed his forearm a little. “Quite, quite all right.” She held up her Tupperware container as if just remembering why she was there. “We brought over some treats for you all to share.” She smiled, looking a little embarrassed. “If I’d known you were English, I would have made some scones for you instead of cookies.”

He looked a little touched. “That’s incredibly kind of you, madam.” He hesitated as if remembering something and gave her an embarrassed laugh. “Oh! Terribly sorry,” he gave her a little bow of the head. “I haven’t even introduced myself. Elliot Spencer. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs.?” He raised a brow and made it look elegant.

Mrs. Standish felt a little apologetic. “Oh, right! My name is Mrs. Judith Standish. Widowed, unfortunately.” She smiled when she said it to make sure he knew she was available.

“My condolences,” he murmured the appropriate response.

Ms. Greene not so subtly nudged her. “We really should be standing around on the stoop like this. May we come inside?”

Now he looked a bit uncertain and they all felt slightly bad about putting him on the spot. “Well, I’m a guest in Kirsty’s home so I don’t feel like it’s my place to give you permission…plus, the house is mostly under renovation so I can’t give you the grand tour.”

Ms. Greene was tired of Mrs. Standish getting all of the handsome man’s attention. “Oh, it’ll be fine! We all knew Mrs. Cotton, Kirsty’s grandmother. I’m sure Kirsty won’t mind if old friends of the family stop by. “ She gently pushed on his chest and he was forced to back up unless he wanted to be steamrolled by women with casserole dishes and plastic containers. She was a bit disappointed she couldn’t snoop but being entertained by such a charming man made up for it.

He ended up in the middle of the living room and weighed the seating options. The sofa could seat three people and there were armchairs on either side. There were six guests plus himself so he would have to get two chairs from the kitchen. Mrs. Standish was the physically oldest person in the room so he would allow her to choose her seat first.

The women all crowded around him, shouting over each other to introduce themselves and showing food containers at him. He held his hands in the air and gave them all a stern glance.

“Now, ladies, I’m very grateful for your company but I’m afraid I can’t hear all of you at once.” He used the same friendly and firm tone he’d once used when addressing new recruits. It still worked because they settled down immediately.

He turned to Mrs. Standish because she seemed to be the leader here. “Madam, why don’t you have a seat while I fetch a few chairs? You can all put your gifts on the table while I put the kettle on and make us some tea? I’ll get some plates and utensils and we can try your biscuits…I mean cookies…together.”

Ms. Greene tried to get his attention again. “I could help-”

“Thank you, but no. You’re guests here and as a good host I wouldn’t hear of it. Just put your containers on the kitchen table and then we can all have a chat over tea.”

He was fortunate they seemed charmed by his manners or tone of voice because there was no argument. Each woman brought her container to the table and set it down like good soldiers and trooped into the living room to politely argue about who would sit where. Mrs. Standish took a seat in the middle of the sofa and Ms. Greene sat on her right. Mrs. Lopez sat on her left and Miss Williams and Miss Lee grabbed the armchairs before Mrs. Stein could grab one. Elliot came to her rescue with a chair from their kitchen table (the dining room was being renovated) and another for himself. He made sure his was a comfortable difference from the woman’s while he went to get some plates, cups, and utensils.

He came back into the living room only to find his chair had been moved closer to Mrs. Stein’s. She giggled at him and he gave her a stern look before setting down the plates, cups, and utensils on the coffee table. It was long and broad and very solid, too solid for them to move without help so they’d kept it.

Elliot selected some loose-leaf tea for his guests, an Assam Kirsty had found for him at a gourmet market. The kettle whistled and he poured the water into a lovely white teapot with a blue flower pattern. It was one of the few things Kirsty had saved from her grandmother’s and was at least as old as he was.

He brought the tea into the living room and once he’d poured it for everyone he set the teapot down in the middle of the coffee table, moved his chair away from Mrs. Stein and sat down. He let his tea cool while he addressed the women. “Now that we’re all comfortable we’ll start with introductions. I know Mrs. Standish of course but what about the rest of you?” He pointed at Miss Lee. “Why don’t we go counter-clockwise? Starting with you, of course. Is it missus or miss?”

“Miss,” Miss Lee smiled, showing off her nearly perfect (and natural) white teeth. I’m Ai Lee. I live in the ranch house next door.”

She’d barely finished when Ms. Greene showed up. “Chloe Greene. I live just across the street.”

As each woman introduced herself he smiled, said “nice to meet you” and desperately hoped Kirsty would be home soon. The school Tiffany attended wasn’t far but according to Kirsty traffic was bad in the morning so he hoped she wasn’t stuck.

There was a few minutes of silence as everyone sipped their tea and nibbled on the scones. Finally Mrs. Standish set down her teacup and folded her hands in her lap. She leaned towards him and asked with eager politeness. “So, tell us about yourself, Mr. Spencer. How is it you know the Cottons? Are you related?” The others leaned forward as well, clearly hoping he was Kirsty Cotton’s cousin or some such and not her lover.

He cast his mind back for the cover story Kirsty had invented. She’d kept it fairly simply so it would be easy to remember.

“Well, Tiffany is my cousin,” he began.

“Oh, that makes sense,” Mrs. Lopez interrupted, “you have such pretty blue eyes. My son is in her class and says she has pretty blue eyes.”

The other women shushed her but he wasn’t offended. “Yes. Strangely common in my family. Her mother sadly passed and I think her father preceded her. Tiffany and Kirsty were both in…therapy. Grief counseling, I suppose, is the term.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie and sounded better than “they were in a mental institution because someone wanted to exploit Tiffany and my former self tried to drag Kirsty to Hell.” He was very lucky neither girl held his past against him.

“Unfortunately, Tiffany had no remaining family in The States so after an exhaustive search they finally located me in England,” he continued after another sip of tea. “I’d just finished…military service so I had nothing but time on my hands.So when it was discovered we were related and she needed a guardian.”

“So you gave up your life in England to come help your family?” Miss Williams asked with an admiring look. “That’s so selfless! I can’t think of any guy I know who’d do such a thing.”

“So, what did your wife or girlfriend think of you moving here?” Mrs. Stein was fishing for information. “Was she mad? Is that why she didn’t move here with you?”

He was starting to find all this attention amusing. He felt their eyes all over him, sizing him up with sly smiles and lustful eyes. He wondered how they would react to his former self. Probably not with lust. Probably.

Elliot shrugged. “Ah, no. No wife or girlfriend to leave behind. Just a few work mates. I had thought I was the last of my family until I learned about Tiffany.”

They nodded, still giving him admiring glances.

“And…what about Kirsty Cotton?” Mrs. Stein wanted to know. The other women pretended to drink more tea or finish their scones but they were listening intently.

He chose his words carefully. “Tiffany and Kirsty bonded in therapy you might say. Tiffany sees her as an older sister. When the two of them…recovered Tiffany had nowhere to go and I’m bereft of funds at the moment,” the single women looked disappointed. “So Kirsty very kindly offered to let us live with her for as long as we needed to. She’s a very good friend and we’re lucky to have her.”

“That’s so nice,” Miss Lee complimented Kirsty but Elliot could tell she was dismissing his friend as competition. That annoyed him.

The door slid open and Kirsty walked inside, as if summoned by his thoughts. “Hey, El, did you notice you left the door unlocked-oh,” she stared at the group. “I didn’t realize we were expecting company.”

“We weren’t,” Elliot answered before anyone else could. He waved a hand at the group. “These ladies were kind enough to come over and welcome us to the neighborhood.”

Kirsty nodded and smiled and her eyes zeroed in on Mrs. Standish. “I remember you! You and my grandmother were friends.”

The older woman was very pleased to be recognized. “Little Kirsty! Laura looked forward to your visits.” She smiled fondly. “It’s amazing how much you look like your mother, dear, but you have your grandmother’s eyes.”

Kirsty’s smile faltered and she whispered. “Yeah. Dad used to tell me all the time.”

Mrs. Standish took her reaction as some sort of cue. “Well, we shouldn’t keep you. I’m sure you have a lot to do, getting this old house back into shape.” She stood up and the other women reluctantly copied her.

“Yeah,” Kirsty agreed. “Lots of work to do. It keeps Elliot and I busy all day.”

Elliot stood and held the door open for his guests. “Thank you all for coming by. I feel very welcomed and I’m sure Kirsty does too.” She nodded.

Mrs. Standish led the way, her cane thumping on the hardwood floor. “Thank you for having us, Mr. Spencer.” She pressed a slip of paper into his hand. “This is all of our numbers, as well as the number for the local police and fire departments.” She winked. “Call us anytime you need anything. Kirsty,” she turned to her. “We left some dishes for you on the kitchen counter, as well as a few recipes.” She gave the younger woman a half-hug. “We should catch up sometime, dear.”

The other women left as well, with smiles for Elliot and polite waves for Kirsty. After they were gone she locked the door behind them. She looked at her roommate sternly then laughed out loud.

He was confused. “What?”

*****

Later over a dinner that did not include questionable casseroles but instead red curry chicken, Kirsty repeated the day’s events for Tiffany’s amusement.

“You should have seen them, Tiff,” she said between bites and giggles. “They were all over him, practically licking their lips at the thought of taking a nibble out of our very charming captain,” she leaned back and gave Elliot a wide smile. “He’s quite the chick magnet.”

He put his fork down and gave her a confused look. “Sorry. Chick magnet?”

“They’re thirsty for you,” Tiffany tried to clarify. “Clearly out to smash.”

Elliot had no idea what either of them were saying. “Tiffany, I’m not sure we’re getting the best value for Kirsty’s money at that school. Is that even English?”

They both laughed and he let them. They'd suffered so much, so young. Especially Tiffany. He knew teasing him was one way they showed affection and although he pulled his punches with the blonde girl, he had no problem taking the piss out of Kirsty when he could.

Kirsty furrowed her brows as she thought then raised them. “Hey, El, you know what catnip is?”

He nodded. “Yes of course. Cats adore it. They want to roll around in it.”

She pointed at him. “That’s you. You, Elliot Spencer, are human catnip for the ladies of the neighborhood. They want to rub their faces all over you and purr.”

He understood. He’d picked up on the undercurrents of the conversation when company was over. He missed how straightforward Cenobites had been. If one wanted pleasure or pain, one only had to say so. “I see.” He looked at both of them. “And…what are your thoughts on that?”

Tiffany grinned. “You’re a grown man. If you want to smash the whole neighborhood I don’t care as long as you use protection.”

“Good idea,” Kirsty stood and began gathering the plates. “After I drop off Tiffany at school, I’ll swing by the pharmacy and buy you some condoms. Maybe a day planner so you don’t double book your lady friends.”

“Condoms?” he asked.

Kirsty rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding me?” she said as she stacked all the plates and she and Tiffany began clearing the table. It was their turn. “You Cenobites kept up with modern technology but you don’t know what condoms are?”

“Well, I was a bit busy, you know. Serving my God, torturing souls and being summoned to Earth by idiots who didn’t know what they were doing,” his reply was a bit tart. He hated the fact he knew so little about the modern world he had to be guided through life by his “family” of two.

Tiffany rinsed the dishes then started loading the dishwasher with plates and utensils. “Well, that’s my part done. I’m gonna start my homework while you give Cousin Elliot ‘the talk’.” She grinned and hugged him. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and she bounded up the stairs.

Kirsty hand washed the pans and explained to Elliot about modern prophylactics and all the deadly diseases they were used to prevent. It was quite a bit of information but it seemed important to her that he understood. He nodded along but made a mental note to read all the packaging of the condoms to make sure he was following instructions.

“Thank you, Kirsty,” he said when she was finished and the dishwasher made a low thrum as she put little pods into it and turned it on.

“You’re welcome,” her smile was warm and then turned almost as sly as his neighbors’. “But I’m sure you don’t need instructions on how to please a lady. And even if you did, I’m sure the welcoming committee would be glad to teach you. Oh, Mr. Spencer,” she held the back of her hand to her forehead and spoke dramatically. “You’re just so dashing and exotic. I may just…swoon.”

She pretended to faint and leaned on him. He held her upright, made sure she was steady and gently pushed her away. “That’s quite enough of your cheek tonight, little missy.”

Kirsty laughed and batted her eyes at him while adopting a mock seductive pose in the doorway. “What? What are you going to do, Captain?” She gave him a sultry look. “Spank me?”

Elliot knew she was baiting him and didn’t mean it. Still, he reached into a drawer and pulled out an extra wide spatula. Brandishing it at her he growled, “I just might, Kirsty Cotton.”

It was a good enough imitation of his former Cenobite voice that her eyes widened before she burst out laughing. “Okay okay okay,” she giggled as she waved her hands at him. “I’m just messing with you.” She gave him a warm smile, brown eyes radiant with affection. “Sorry if I embarrassed you. You always hurt the ones you love.”

Her statement surprised him. He blinked as he slowly lowered the spatula and put it back in the drawer. “And you…love me?”

She looked at him, her eyes wide with astonishment. “I’m surprised you have to ask.” She frowned. “I guess I’ve really been busting your ass today. I’m sorry, El.”

Kirsty approached him slowly as if afraid she might startle him and put an arm around his waist to pull him closer. She looked up at him.

“Elliot,” her face was serious and sincere. “When I said you, me and Tiffany were a family, I meant it. I love both of you very much and I want you to be happy.” She sighed and let him go. She stepped back.

“And I know you’re a grown man and have needs and there are a lot of pretty ladies and hot guys who live around here.” She held up her hands before he could protest. “Just a statement. I’m not judging but I have a few guidelines if you want to…date.” One finger went up. “Rule One, be discrete. Your life, your decisions but I don’t want Tiffany hurt if people start gossiping about her cousin. Rule Two, be careful if your dates are married, because I don’t want angry wives or husbands showing up to kick your ass. Calling the police could blow our cover.”

“Rule three,” she held up a third finger and cut him off when he tried to speak. “No overnight guests. I don’t want your floozies sleeping over at my house.” She gave him a cheek kiss as well. “Good night. I’ve got some reading Daddy’s lawyer asked me to do. Something about investments.”

She headed upstairs and Elliot was left to look after her in astonishment. While he appreciated her affection and care, he was a little discomfited at how modern society was so open about sex. He chuckled to himself. A prudish Cenobite? Leviathan would sound with laughter.

*****

The day after as he took a load of clean laundry back to his room he found a bag on his bed. It contained a day planner, two large containers of personal lubricant, some smaller containers of flavored lubricant and seven different kinds of condoms.

He thought about the list of phone numbers his visitors had given him and smiled.

There was no need to squander Kirsty’s gifts, was there?

[whump-me]

Martyr, Chapter 28: Not Over Yet

Chapter 28 of Martyr, a novel-length sci-fi whump story about a captured Martian rebel with a secret and the renowned interrogator who has waited a decade for the chance to break him. This series is best read in order. Masterpost here.

Contains: whumper POV, restraints, interrogation, aftermath of severe injury, verbal sparring, emotional whump

---

Isadora

“Then your rebellion meant nothing to you?” Isadora asked, testing him, even though he had given her the answer she had expected. “You would abandon it so easily?”

“You’re the one who just got done telling me how stupid it would be for me to go back.”

“Well, yes, but you rebels tend to have more conviction than brains. I’ve talked to a lot of you over the years, and the way you tend to talk, you’d think you were all champing at the bit for the chance to martyr yourselves.”

“The way you did, you mean?”

Why did this man, even now, have the power to ignite a flame of hot anger in her cold center? “Even if I were foolish enough to chase death based on an ephemeral emotion, I have enough brains to know staying alive to fight another day would be far more effective.”

“Oh, really.” Half his lips twisted on one side in a faint, bitter echo of his old grin. “You mean to tell me you haven’t given up anything of yourself for what you believe in? So you were born this way, huh?” He shook his head. “You must’ve been a strange child to raise, if that’s the case.”

The flame of fury grew. She ruthlessly tamped it down. She took a deep breath—in for four, out for four.

She knew why his words got to her the way they did. At this point in the game, it was pointless to deny it. He wouldn’t have been able to get under her skin this way if he weren’t right.

She loosened her hands around the arms of her chair. She hadn’t realized she had tightened them. “We were talking about you,” she reminded him. “If anything you said in our first real conversation was true, you’ve been with the rebellion from the beginning. Even if you’re not as eager to sacrifice yourself as your compatriots, could you really walk away from something you’ve devoted your life to for so long? Was it really only ever about the pull he had over you?”

“That’s a complicated question,” said Wraith. There was no artifice in his voice. Strange as it seemed, she had the impression he was giving her question the consideration it deserved.

At last, he continued. “It wasn’t just about him,” he finally said. “I watched people die, the same as a lot of us did. I was angry. But not everyone who was angry took the route I took. Even before I knew I loved him, I was trying to be what he wanted. If I had, maybe I would have taken some brief futile revenge and flamed out quickly. Or maybe my anger would have burned bright and hot for a while, and then faded away as I let myself forget about those early days. Would that have been better? I don’t know. I’m proud of the work I’ve done, no matter why I did it.”

“You’re proud of the people you killed?” Isadora couldn’t resist cutting in.

At that, he graced her with a cold smile. “I may not be a true believer, but I still take satisfaction in justice. Not to mention revenge. So yes, I am.” Then the smile faded from his face as he continued. “The rebellion would be better off with me, I know that for certain. But let’s be honest—that’s not an option for me anymore, no matter what I want. Even if I were to walk out of here today—and we both know how likely that is—you people would track me right back to them. Back to him. I can’t let that happen.”

“Only if you let them,” Isadora pointed out. “You haven’t kept yourself alive this long by being easy to track.”

He acknowledged her words with a half-shrug. His face showed how much that simple movement cost him. “I could go back. It’s what a true believer would do; it’s what he would do. What you would do, I’m sure. But me? I’ve spent half of the last ten years trying to be everything he wants me to be, and the other half keeping him and everyone he cares about alive by being everything he can’t be. I wouldn’t mind being selfish for once. I’d like to figure out if there’s something else I can love the way he loves the cause. Something—someone, maybe—that would love me back.” He lowered his head. His hair fell across his eyes. “Or at least not break my heart.”

His lips curved in a wry smile. “Not that it matters, because you and I both know I’m going to die here. I’m going to die for him, just like he planned—just like I planned. It’s a shame we only figure these things out after it’s too late, isn’t it?”

An unexpected burst of laughter, sharp and jagged as the shards of ice she could feel snapping loose in her chest, left her lips at that. Wraith’s head jerked up. His eyes went wide. For a second, before he covered it up, pure panic shone in his gaze.

He smoothed out his expression a second later, but a dark glimmer of fear remained. His ragged breathing filled the room, breaking the silence left in the wake of her outburst.

Of course he had reacted that way—he probably thought she was losing control again. And who could blame him? After all, it wasn’t as if he was wrong. The only thing that had been holding her together—the image of the noble crusader she had clung to for so long—was gone. Even she didn’t know what was left.

Wraith stared deeply into her eyes. Whatever he saw there, it intensified the fear on his face, creating lines of tension where none had been a moment ago. But his voice, when he spoke, was weary and resigned. “Get on with it,” he said. “But do me a favor and finish the job this time, will you?”

“Don’t worry,” she said, “I’d rather not damage you all over again. It was hard enough healing you up the first time.”

Wraith didn’t answer for a moment, but the look on his face broadcast his skepticism clearly enough. He watched her without blinking, as if looking away for the slightest fraction of a second would bring her fists raining down on him all over again. Her gut tightened with shame.

Then she took a deep breath, and released the tension with her exhale. The time for shame was done, along with the time for self-deceit. Today, she was trying something new.

A sharp pain shot through her chest as another crack erupted in the ice that had held her together for so long. The pain was all in her head, she knew, but the felt real enough. Under the ice, dark water surged, rippling with emotion she didn’t understand. Was it a good feeling or a bad one? Was this joy she felt in her heart, or dread, or blind panic? Maybe some mix of the three. Maybe it didn’t matter.

“If we’re done talking about the future I’ll never have,” said Wraith, “how about you tell me who won your little game? You did beat me nearly to death. And you’re probably going to do it again. That’s a pretty clear victory for you, I’d say. On the other hand, I made Isadora Pope lose control, which has to count for something.” Unexpectedly, a flicker of his old grin played across the corners of his mouth. “Besides, you didn’t get what you wanted from me. And you won’t.”

“You’re still capable of your old bravado,” said Isadora. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Are you kidding? I don’t have the energy for that. I’m just telling you the truth.”

And she had to acknowledge to herself that it was true. She had never failed to make a prisoner talk— and yet, looking into Wraith’s tired eyes, she knew she would never get the information she wanted from him. Even if she destroyed him utterly, the way she had once planned to. He would take his secrets to his grave.

She wondered how it would feel to love someone like that. Did he feel about this leader of his the way she felt about her duty to Mars? Or did it feel more like the alien surge of emotion that ran through her body when she thought about the thing she had really wanted when she had demanded to come back to this place?

Because it had never really been about saving this benighted rock. It hadn’t been about about preserving Mars’s exports for Earth—who in the world had ever chosen to sacrifice their life for exports? No, she had sacrificed herself for the chance to be more than just one more grunt guarding a factory door. To fight for something greater than herself, like she had dreamed of when she had put on the uniform for the first time—even though back then she hadn’t had words to put to her desire, aside from some impassioned declarations about freedom and justice that made her cringe now. But the underlying desire had never faded.

Huh. Even as empty as she was, it seemed she could still feel something after all.

And yes, she decided as she looked into Wraith’s eyes—what he felt for his leader had to be something like that.

Despite what he had said, despite what she had thought, it looked like the two of them weren’t so different after all.

She didn’t share that thought with him.

He was still watching her, waiting for an answer. “I can’t answer that question,” she said, “because the game isn’t over yet.”

---

Tagged: @straight-to-the-pain @soheavyaburden @gala1981 @whumpacabra @sacredwrath @suspicious-whumping-egg @sonder35 @decahedron-crabclaw @seasaltandcopper @tremendousenemyhideout @bloodinkandashes @whumplr-reader @whatiswhumpblog @delicateprincepaper @sunshiline-writes

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[fluffypandabun]

You’re gonna rattle the stars you are.

AN: Hello Hello my second fic!!! This ones kind of all over the place but hopefully you guys enjoy it! Its a little angsty in the begining but dw that doesnt last long! I hope you enjoy!

Words: 3335

Summary: While watching a Movie with Mikey, Casey is reminded of some more bittersweet times. Thankfully Mikey, and Raph, are there to help him

When Casey had mentioned he had no idea what ‘Treasure planet’ was, Mikey had all but lunged across the table with a loud very over dramatic gasp. Casey barely found the restraint to not lash out at him, though he did flinch back slightly.

The youngest turtle wasn’t deterred by this though, grabbing onto the elder teens shoulder with a firm serious grip, verging on shaking him back and forth.

“Oh me gosh! You’ve seen Treasure planet!? The token greatest movie of all time!?”

Eyes wide, Casey shook his head. So that's what this treasure planet thing was, one of those movie things the rest of the hamatos  have been determined in showing him. He’d enjoyed all of them so far, aside from that one horror movie Cassandra had decided was a good thing to watch. He had spent most of it with his face covered with his hands and Mikey clinging to his arm.

The box shelled turtle's eyes got even bigger, mouth agape as if this was the most tragic news he’d heard ever in his life. Finally he moved his hands from Casey's shoulders and onto his wrists. Grabbing them and dragging him out of the chair.

“Alright! I know what we're doing today then! Clear your schedule Cass cause this is of dire importance!”

“I- what…Mikey-!” The teen huffed, stumbling as he was pulled along by the shorter turtle, wow was he surprisingly strong.

“There's no time to waste Cass, I won't have a fellow brother of mine not know of the masterpiece that is Treasure planet.”

Casey would have gotten a lot more emotional over Mikey referring to him as his brother, if it weren’t for the fact he nearly tripped over his own feet as he was yanked along by the determined teen.

“But-“

“No buts!” Mikey interrupted him before Casey could speak, shooting him a look that said that Casey would be watching this movie and that he didn’t really have a choice.

Admitting defeat Casey allowed himself to be dragged over to the largest couch that made up most of the layers living.

“Right, you sit here and get comfy, I go make us some popcorn, you like the buttered kind right?”

At Casey's nod the turtle grinned. “Great! I’ll be right back!”

Casey was quick to try and stand. “Oh I can help-“

Mikey turned a fixed him with a look, one usually reserved for when his brothers were being extra difficult, like when Donnie wouldn’t leave his lab to eat, or when Leo had started avoiding his family when his mental health had began to get worse

(It also reminded him of another time, with a much older Mikey and an even more stubborn version of his older brother..

Some things really never do change)

Almost on instinct, Casey found himself plopping back down onto the couch and grinning sheepishly.

“Uh, Nevermind.”

Mikeys face immediately shifted back into a wide smile, eyes shining. He gave Casey a pat on the head before he disappeared into the kitchen and out of Casey's sight.

And that was how the teen had found himself settled on the couch, a bowl of buttery smelling popcorn at his side as Mikey fiddled with the projector in front of him as he excitedly flapped his hands.

“I promise you're gonna love it Cass, it's got like space pirates and this super cool cat-lady captain, who was April's first childhood crush by the way, don’t tell her I told you that tho.”

Casey didn’t understand about half the words Mikey was saying (Crush? April could certainly be violent during fights but crushing somebody seemed a bit much for even her) but he still nodded along, his own hands tapping in his lap. Mikey's excitement was certainly contagious.

There was a triumphant “Got it” as mikey stood up, the projector came alive, showing the castle logo that Casey had seen a few times before in previous movies he’d been shown, he didn’t remember what it was called though.

Satisfied, Mikey walked over to the couch and all but draped himself across Casey's lap, shifting about until he made himself comfortable. With his head resting in the elders lap facing the screen, and his arms wrapped around his middle, seeming content.

Casey froze for just a moment, the sudden affection still a bit foreign to him, but he soon relaxed. If Casey couldn’t leave before he definitely couldn’t leave now, he’d rather sit here glued to the couch for days rather than move and risk disturbing the turtle on his lap.

Casey simply smiled and rested a hand on the Turtle's shell, leaning his head back and turning his attention to the movie.

Pretty soon however he found himself leant forward, as far as he could while still having a lapful of turtle, totally invested in the movie before him.

He found himself amazed by the stars and the flying ships, he wasn’t sure how the latter would work, he’d have to ask Donnie about it later.

But mostly he found himself getting very attached to the two main characters, the cyborg especially. The fatherly attitude and the robotic arm, reminded him of someone. And it made his heart ache just slightly whenever he was on screen.

He found himself at the edge of his seat whenever the crew had found themselves in the middle of a black hole, eyes wide as Mr Arrow was thrown off the ship, though he felt an ounce of relief when he was caught by his lifeline.

The relief was short lived however as the weird scary bug dude, he didn’t remember his name and he was too stressed to care, approached the dangling Rock man.

“No!” Casey cried, as the line was severed and Mr Arrow was sent falling to his presumed death.

Still curled up in his lap Mikey gave a grim nod, giving Casey a few pats on the arm in sympathy.

“I know Cass, I know.”

Scowling at the screen, Casey leant back against the couch, grumbling about the ‘stupid traitorous red thing.’.

His ire faded soon after as he watched Jim feel guilt over what happened to Mr Arrow, Casey wanted to yell about how it wasn’t his fault but he knew his words would go unheard.

He watched with increasingly misty eyes as Silver went on a tangent, comforting the boy about how it wasn’t his fault, that he shouldn’t let himself shoulder all of the guilt.

Casey felt his throat tightening, everything about this scene was so achingly familiar. How many times in his past had he felt guilt over small mistakes? Over deaths that in hindsight were unpreventable, how many times had he felt responsible over something that was totally out of his control?

And every-time had his sensei been there to put a firm hand on his shoulder and force him to look him in the eye, not letting go until Casey knew for sure himself that it wasn’t his fault, and then he’s be pulled into a broad chest and held as he cried over his own helplessness in the war.

If only he had known just how little time they would have togther, maybe he would have spent much less of it wallowing in guilt.

“You're gonna rattle the stars you are.”

“Casey?”

Casey was startled out of his own thoughts by a quiet voice, glancing down he met Mikey's eyes which were full of concern, the turtle reached out to cup Casey's cheek with a three fingers hand. 

“You're crying…” 

Casey blinked, and sure enough he could feel the telltale feeling of warm tears slipping from his eyes and down his cheeks, he swallowed thickly. 

“O-Oh….” He choked, reaching up to wipe at his face with the sleeves of his hoodie. He gave Mikey a shaky grin. 

“S-Sorry, it's uh…the movie, you know. Its….sad.” 

Even to his own ears he didn't sound very convincing, especially with the way his voice shook. But he couldn't let Mikey know about the real reason he was getting so worked up, he didnt want for the young turtle to feel guilty about reminding him of his past (Future? Whatever.) and he certainly didn't want to go dumping his issues onto him either. He could handle them fine on his own…probably. 

(A voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like his Uncle Donatello told him he was just as bad as Leo) 

The box turtle frowned, shifting around until he was moving himself out of Casey's lap. Casey nearly reached out to pull him back, missing the contact and the comfort that came with it, but he held himself back as the turtle settled beside him. Sitting cross legged and facing him, Casey barely registered the sound of the movie being paused and the room going quiet. 

“It's something other than the movie, isn't it?” 

Internally, Casey cursed, looking away and not meeting the turtle's gaze. Despite being the youngest, Mikey had always been the best at telling when someone was lying, especially when it came to how they were feeling. This had carried over even in Caseys time. 

In the end he chose to say nothing, clenching his jaw. He held back a flinch as Mikey eventually  sighed, sounding less angry and more….sad. A three fingered hand came and grabbed onto his hand, holding it gently as he rubbed a thumb over the boy's scarred knuckles. 

“I'm not gonna force you to talk about it Casey, but….whenever you do, you know me and the others are here right?” 

And if that didn't just make Casey's want to start crying all over again, he clenched his eyes tightly shut. 

‘Don't look up, don't look up, don't look up-’

He looked up. 

And he was met with a gaze so full of understanding and concern and just…love, that it nearly took his breath away. It was like Casey was six again with a badly skinned knee, bawling his eyes out as his Uncle Michelangelo held his hand and made silly faces to make him laugh again.  

“I….” Casey began, words getting caught up in his throat. “It…just reminded me of someone…”

Mikey took his other hand into his own, giving them both a gentle squeeze. “Who?” 

“My….Sensei…” He managed to choke out, he saw the realization and the understanding in Mikeys eyes, but the turtle remained silent and let Casey keep speaking. 

“He…he used to do the same thing. Give me these long speeches whenever I’d feel bad about something, he carried so much guilt too you know? But he never let me or anyone else carry any of our own….” Casey let out a slight huff of laughter. 

“He said that to me once, the whole ‘You're gonna rattle the stars’ bit. I should have known he stole that quote from somewhere else.”

Mikey rolled his eyes, though he was smiling. “Yeah, that sounds like Leo.” 

Casey chuckled, before his expression fell again and he sniffled softly. 

“....I miss him.”

Mikey's expression softened. “I know.” 

Casey swallowed thickly, allowing the last few tears welled up in his eyes to trickle down his cheeks, he glanced at Mikey and then quickly averted his gaze back down to his lap. Cheeks dusted a light pink. 

“Can…Can I have a hug pl-”

The teen was caught off by Mikey all but throwing himself into Casey's arms, the human was thrown back into laying on his back on the couch with Mikey a top him, arms wrapped around his midsection and face buried in his chest. 

“I thought you’d never ask.” The turtle sighed, face muffled by the fabric of Casey's hoodie. He let out a wet laugh, wrapping his own arms around the younger teen. 

“Thanks Mikey.” He sighed, face shifting as guilt at interrupting their movie gnawed at him. 

“..Sorry about ruining the movie, I know you were super excited to show it to me.” 

Mikey lifted his head from Casey's chest to give the teen a stern glare. “You didn't ruin anything Cass, none of that talk you hear me? Mikey's orders.”

“I know but.”

“Mikey's.Orders.”

Casey pressed his mouth shut, expression still reminiscent of a particularly sad puppy though he didn't protest any further. Mikey gave him a look before he sighed dramatically. 

“Well fine, if that's how you're going to be.” 

Casey blinked, his guilty expression shifting to one of confusion. “Mikey? Wha-”

The teen never got to finish his own sentence however, as the turtle suddenly buried his face into Casey's stomach and blew a big fat raspberry. 

Casey all but screamed, the thin fabric of his hoodie did barely anything against the ticklish vibrating that shot throughout his whole midsection. Cackling his body gave a violently jerk to the side which, forgetting he was laying on a couch, sent him rolling off of it and in a heap on the floor. A giggling turtle landed on top of him.

Gaining his bearing and whipping around he gave the younger a glare that lacked any real heat behind it. 

“Mikey! What was that for!?”

The turtle simply gave him a totally innocent ‘i don't know what you could possibly mean’ look, he shrugged. 

“What? It's not my fault you were just sitting there looking like some sad little angsty boy.” 

“I am not a-you know what? Come here!” 

Mikey's expression immediately switched to alarm when Casey lunged for him, he squealed and dodged out of the way, his ninja skills being the only thing keeping him out of Casey's grasp. He looked over his shoulder and saw Casey getting ready to pounce again and he shrieked, scrambling to his feet he took off running.  

“Hey! Get back here!” Casey yelled after him, laughter in his voice and he took after the younger turtle. Mikey looked over his shoulder to see Casey still chasing him and he squealed, bursting into nervous giggling. 

This was the first time Casey had actively engaged in this sort of play chase, normally he would sit off to the side and watch the others playfight and chase each other around, Mikey was glad Casey was begging to open up more to them. 

But wow was he actually very fast and maybe Mikey needed some back up. 

“RAPH! SAVE ME!” Mikey yelled, bursting into his eldest brother's room, startling the poor snaggle tooth and causing him to nearly throw the scarf he had been crocheting. He reached for his sais, eyes wide as he scanned the room for danger as Mikey hid behind him. 

“What!? What is it!? What's wrong!?” He turned to look back at his baby bro, and he realized when he realized that he was giggling and did not appear to actually be in any danger at all. Figuring it was just his brothers messing around with the youngest he waited for one of them to come running in after him, to his surprise however, it was a disheveled looking Casey who came barreling into the room. 

Grinning wildly and playfully in a way Raph had never seen on his face before, he didn't seem to notice Raphs presence in the room as he pointed a finger at Mikey's direction. 

“You.”

Mikey squealed and ducked back behind his older brother, Ralph's gaze softened fondly before it became playfully stern. He turned back to the human and crossed his arms across his chest. 

“You messin with my lil brother huh?” 

He watched Casey falter slightly, seeming to be worried that Raph was genuinely upset with him. Before the teen could open his mouth to apologize, Raph spoke up. 

“Raph thinks you need a little taste of your own little brother treatment.” He said, cracking his knuckles. Caseys eyes went wide but before he could even move a muscle Raph was grabbing him around the middle and throwing him over his shoulder, the teen found himself dangling upside down with his back to the spiky turtle's chest.  One large hand came up to hold onto his legs so he wouldn't fall while the other dug gently into his stomach in the shape of a claw, before shaking back and forth.

Casey shrieked, bursting into laughter as he jerked back and forth, hands coming up to weakly bat at the much larger three fingered hand. It was a futile effort however, and the hand didn't even budge in the slightest. 

Still on the ground beside Raph, Mikey cheered. “Yeah! Get him Raphie!”

“Oh don't think I forgot about you either Mikey.” 

“Wait what.” 

The youngest turtle suddenly squeaked as he was picked up around the middle with Raphs spare hand, keeping the laughing and squirming Casey in place with ease with one hand, he tucked the small box turtle to his side and began digging into the exposed area between carapace and shell. Which had Mikey squealing even louder than Casey, kicking his legs out and trying to push against Raphs side. 

“This is what you get for burstin in and scaring the daylights outta me! You should know better!”! Raph scolded, though it held no seriousness behind it if the giant grin spread across his face didn't already give it away. 

M-Mikey started it!” Casey managed to gasp through his laughter, earning an offended squawk from said turtle. 

“Casey was being sad!” The turtle barely managed to get out a rebuttle before falling into another bout of giggles. 

“Well now the both of you got what you wanted!” Raph chirped, spinning around to draw more laughter from the already giggly teens. 

“T-This is torture!” Casey cackled, face flushing even redder as he snorted. Raph’s grin simply widened at the sound. 

“Ohoho you think this is torture little man? Just be glad Raph ain't goin full tickle monster on ya.”

Raph chuckled at the two streams of frantic protests he received, he didn't want to overwhelm them however so after a moment his attack slowed to a stop. Though he didn't put down the two giggly teens, who were now both totally limp in his hold. Still shaking from breathy giggles. 

Raph cooed at them softly. “Aw, Raph didn't tire you guys out did he?” 

It earned him a smack on the head from an annoyed Mikey and a groan from Casey. The snaggle tooth simply laughed to himself as he adjusted him in his hold so they were both more comfortable, able to hold them with ease. Though he was pretty sure Casey was supposed to be a bit heavier then he felt to Raph, but that was something they could deal with later. 

“You want me to lay you guys in my bed?” 

Mikey shook his head. “Nah, we still have a movie to watch.” He shifted in Raphs hold to point dramtically out of the door. “ To the living room!”

Raph rolled his eyes playfully as he carried the two over to the living room, heading towards the big couch in the middle. He could have put them down of course, but he also didn't want to. And if the way the two of them snuggled against him suggested they didn't either. 

He arrived at their destination, noticing the movie that was paused on screen. 

“Oh! You guys are watching treasure planet!? Why did you tell me!” 

“It was an urgent matter brother it couldn't not wait, this is Casey's first time watching it. “ Mikey hummed, shifting to make himself more comfortable against Raphs chest. 

“Ooooh! Can Raph join?” The snaggle tooth turned hopeful eyes towards the human much to his surprise, after a moment Casey smiled and he also moved around to get comfy against Raphs side. 

“Of course Raph.” 

The smile the elder sent him was blinding as he also made himself comfortable in between the two, eagerly unpausing the movie and he settled down. 

“Oooo you guys are almost at the really good part!” 

Casey barely registered Mikey's response as he felt himself start to drift off, Ralph's large hand coming down to rub his back certainly didn't help in his fight to stay awake. 

He wasn't worried about falling asleep and missing the movie though, they could always watch it again. 

They had all the time in the world after all. 

[missingmywing]

Much shorter today, but both soft and angsty.

Ryomina Day 2: Stargazing/First Kiss (Ao3 Link)

These are all going to be continuations of Day 1 because I wanna explore this au more.

The amount of flipflopping I did trying to figure out if it’s even possible to see the stars in Kyoto - even at the stargazing spots - was… a lot, and I still didn’t get a definitive answer. All the pictures I looked at said no, but I also acknowledge that cameras aren’t always great, and they are called stargazing lookouts on various tourist sites. And the game and movie both show stars at night so we’re going to set aside the potential realities of light pollution and say that you can. And the first day of the trip is a new moon too, so it’d be a waste not to take advantage of that.

The hiking trail Ryoji drags Minato up against his will:https://www.insidekyoto.com/shogunzuka-seiryuden-hike-chion-temple

Also as usual, the song I listened to while writing this:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ox7Wt6fsm_A

Ryomina to Kimi no Na wa is somehow even more devastating.

~ ᙙᙖ ~

Minato had never really gotten attached to things before this year - aside from the mp3 player and Death/Thanatos - so he didn’t really miss anything from his childhood. But the one good thing that he could admit to missing, if he thought about it, was wandering the streets of Inagawa at night and looking up at the stars.

The green distortion of the dark hour tended to obscure the light of the stars, but even when it didn’t the light pollution of Tokyo not far away - plus Tatsumi Port Island itself - largely blocked them out.

Which meant that when they went to Kyoto for the school trip, Ryoji apparently decided on his own that that meant they should sneak out and go to the nearby Shogunzuka Seiryuden Temple to see if they could see any. Apparently it was the best lookout in the city, and a good place to stargaze.

Minato had his doubts given how bright the city was, but Ryoji seemed excited so he didn’t argue and just let the Shadow-turned-Persona-turned-boy sneak them out of the inn on the first night there to drag him on the long walk to the foot of the temple, then the half hour hike up to the temple itself.

If it had been anyone else Minato would have been annoyed and turned around. Ryoji was very lucky Minato liked him so much.

… especially after those six days where he’d been convinced that he’d lost him after Thanatos just vanished from his soul before Ryoji just showed up to school (which he still hadn’t explained and probably wouldn’t).

But Ryoji hadn’t let go of his hand the whole time they’d been walking, fingers intertwined and arms swinging as he chattered about the various things he’d been doing and exploring around Iwatodai and Tatsumi Port Island in the ten or so days he’d been consciously physical. It was almost surprising to hear how much he’d been doing without Minato - it had felt almost like they’d been glued together since the moment Ryoji walked into class with a grin and flirty line.

(It had taken an enormous amount of restraint for Minato not to throw himself out of desk and storm up to the front demanding to know where he’d been - the sudden flood of emotions he’d been struggling with since Thanatos vanished and suddenly whatever emotional suppression effect he’d had on Minato had vanished along with him had been difficult - but he’d managed to limit his reaction to a narrowed-eyed glare. They’d all thought Aigis was going to break cover and shoot him on the spot before she’d managed to get her own instinctual reaction under control.)

But they still spent a decent amount of time apart, given how busy Minato was helping various Social Links and Ryoji flirting his way through getting to know the entire school - how he was doing that without getting murdered by half the school population Minato neither knew nor cared - so it shouldn’t have been the surprise it was to realize that Ryoji somehow knew an entire year’s worth of drama that he hadn’t been around for.

Minato really didn’t care about the breakups and revenge plots and planned confessions of various couples around the school but Ryoji looked like he was having fun so he let him talk and only partially tuned him out.

When he’d come on the Kyoto trip he really hadn’t expected to be dragged on a multi-kilometer hike, but… well it wasn’t awful. The air was chilly enough that he wasn’t hot, and the months they’d spent sprinting up floor after floor of Tartarus meant he could easily handle the hike.

It just would have been nice to have some forewarning - or even just taken a taxi up.

But Ryoji was determined to have as many experiences as possible in the three months they had before The Fall, and Minato couldn’t fault him for it.

No one could escape time, not even the two of them, so they might as well make the most of it.

The downward turn of his thoughts must have been apparent to Ryoji - of course they were, he’d spent ten years sharing Minato’s soul - because the boy squeezed his hand with a sad smile and then yanked him forward.

Minato yelped and scrambled to catch his balance, and then they were running. Sprinting up the stairs, chilly autumn air whipping at their cheeks and red leaves and stone path blurring around them as Ryoji laughed and led the way and Minato couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed as he rushed to keep up.

It was exhausting and exhilarating, the world blurring and fading away until all he could feel were the pounding of his heart and the slap of his shoes against the stone pathway and Ryoji’s hand in his, all he could see was Ryoji’s beaming smile and eerie two-toned blue eyes glowing in the dark.

When they finally reached the top Minato had to stop and double over to clutch at his side as he gasped for breath. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how not human Ryoji was.

There was a reason only Aigis could keep up with him.

“Sorry,” the Shadow-turned-boy offered sheepishly. “You alright?”

“F-Fine,” Minato panted. “Just… just give me… a minute…” Too many nights running from the Reaper had given him stamina at least, and the sudden thought made him snort.

Ryoji tilted his head questioningly.

Minato finally managed to straighten and begin to even out his breaths. “Usually I’m running away from the Reaper, not trying to catch up to him.”

That drew a startled laugh from Ryoji as he set his hands on his hips. “I’m not the Reaper! I mean I’m kind of similar I guess, but we’re still different! The Reaper doesn’t come from Nyx, I don’t think.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Not that I know of,” Ryoji shrugged. “I think it just comes from… elsewhere, like most Shadows,” he waved his hand vaguely in the air, “-and is drawn to places where Shadows gather.”

“Huh… well, you’re still kind of a reaper, even if you aren’t the Reaper.”

Ryoji stuck his tongue out at him. “Fair enough I guess. Now come on, we’re almost there!” He grabbed Minato’s hand and returned to pulling him forward towards the path opening up into the viewpoint area.

It was a small observational area overlooking the southern sector of Kyoto, and in the far distance he could even make out the glittering lights of Osaka in the clear, moonless night.

The important thing, though, was the endless expanse of stars above them that he hadn’t expected to see.

Minato stared wide-eyed, slowly walking forward towards the railing with Ryoji trailing behind him.

They weren’t quite as clear as they’d been in Inagawa, but they were there and sparkling like thousands of tiny fireflies in the far distance.

He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed being able to see them, and was even more startled by the sudden choking well of emotion rising from his chest to his throat and spilling out from his eyes. Was he really crying over the stars?

The sudden unpracticed ability to feel a full range of emotion again was becoming inconvenient.

He reached up to scrub at his eyes and tried not to jump when he felt arms wrap unexpected around his waist as Ryoji rested his chin on his shoulder.

“It’s fine, you know,” he murmured in his ear.

“They’re just stars,” Minato shot back, leaning into his hug. “They’re pretty, but it’s not worth crying over.”

“Isn’t it?” Ryoji countered. “You’ve missed them haven’t you. What wrong with that?”

… what indeed.

“It’s not like they’ve gone anywhere. I just couldn’t see them.”

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to miss them.”

Minato had a feeling they weren’t just talking about the stars anymore.

Sighing, Minato reached down to intertwine their fingers. “It’s still annoying that I can’t control my emotions anymore.”

Ryoji snorted and pressed his face to Minato’s shoulder. “You mean that you have emotions again. You’ll get used to it - they aren’t bad.”

“Easy for you to say.” But Minato didn’t argue with him, just tipped his head back to stare up at the stars and try to remember the patterns of constellations. He could remember a few, tracing their paths with his eyes, and it was comfortable in the silence between them as he looked up at the twinkling lights in the sky and Ryoji looked down at the glittering lights of the city.

“It’s ironic,” Ryoji murmured finally. “I bet none of the scientists ever thought that the personification of Death could learn to value life, could learn to want to live and want humanity to live. I love you and I love them, and ten years ago I couldn’t have even imagined that I would be able to.”

Minato tightened his grip reflexively, trying to ignore the sudden burning behind his eyes and throat at the reminder. “I bet they’d be mortified,” he murmured. “Strega and Ikutsuki sure were.”

A wet laugh tumbled from the boy behind him. “Yeah, yeah they were. But I do. I do want to live. I want to live, and keep learning about people, seeing how they live and what they think. And I want to keep waking up every day with you and going down to the lobby to eat breakfast that Shinji made everyone while Yukari and Junpei argue and Akihiko and Mitsuru ignore them, and Fuuka tries to keep the peace while Ken sneaks Koromaru food from his plate, and Aigis tries to figure out why they’re arguing this time.” He was shaking, burying his face in Minato’s shoulder to hide his tears. “I want to stay with you forever, just like this.”

The tears had won the battle against Minato and they streaked down his face and turned the stars above them into a blur. He swallowed the knot in his throat and whispered, “Me too. I don’t want you to leave me too. I want to keep you here.” Wanted to drag Thanatos back into his soul, entwine them so strongly once more that he couldn’t leave him behind again. But they both knew he couldn’t - Ryoji’s very existence was proof that Death was whole once more, and a single human soul couldn’t contain Death without destroying itself.

But that didn’t mean he was willing to let go either.

Minato turned suddenly, startling Ryoji into loosening his grip, until they were facing each other. And it was a whim, a thoughtless, desperate motion to connect them once more that made Minato reach up to wrap his arms around Ryoji’s neck and pull him down to press their lips together for the first time. Ryoji froze for a moment before clinging more tightly to Minato’s waist and pulling him as close as he could.

And the kiss was awkward, wet with their shared tears and neither knowing what exactly they were supposed to do, but that wasn’t the point of it. Minato just wanted to be as close to him as he could in that moment, even if he couldn’t rejoin their souls. So it was awkward and desperate and not really good but it made him feel a little better to know it wasn’t just him.

That they were still the same even broken apart as they were.

When they pulled apart Minato tucked his head against Ryoji’s neck and just breathed. Ryoji clung to him just as tightly as he matched their breaths and they stood there. Together.

It wasn’t fair, none of it was fair, but they both knew that. There was nothing they could do about it - time came for them all in the end and they couldn’t close their eyes and cover their ears to hide from it. All they could do was live as much as they could until the end.

Minato found himself being dragged down as Ryoji suddenly fell backwards, until they were both sprawled on the concrete staring up at the stars once more. Minato’s arm was used as Ryoji’s cushion and his head was tucked against his shoulder and it wasn’t the most comfortable position but he didn’t want to move.

They just laid there, Ryoji occasionally pointing up to draw his attention to a constellation he either remembered or made up, and it was the calmest Minato had felt in weeks.

Time ticked ever onward though, and eventually Ryoji sighed and turned to press his lips to Minato’s head and murmured, “It’s almost midnight. Once the Dark Hour hits, I can fly us back.” His lips pulled up into a small smirk. “Save you the exhaustion of walking anywhere.”

Minato had complained about long walks to places before, even in his head, and while he didn’t hate exercise he wasn’t particularly thrilled with it either. Any other time he’d have been relieved at the offer.

But right here and now, in this extended fragile moment between them, with time ticking ever forward against them, he wanted to draw this out a little longer. Pretend for as long as possible that it was just the two of them and they had infinite time ahead of them.

So he just shrugged and said, “I can walk.”

Ryoji’s raised brow almost immediately morphed into understanding - of course it did - and his expression softened into something warm and pained. “If you’re sure. If we get back during the Dark Hour maybe Mitsuru won’t lecture us too badly about sneaking out.”

“And who’s fault was that?”

“I’ll take responsibility!”

“Somehow I don’t think that will save us,” Minato sighed, reluctantly sitting up. “We should go then. It’s around an hour to walk back so we’ll be cutting it close even if we leave now.”

“Good point. If we get too close I’ll just fly us the rest of the way, though.” Ryoji stretched his arms over his head and hopped to his feet, offering a hand to Minato. He accepted it and was pulled easily to his feet - but stilled as Ryoji suddenly too the opportunity to lean down and press another soft kiss to his lips. It was short, only a lingering moment, but something about it made his throat tight again and he pressed their foreheads together.

They lingered for another minute before reluctantly parting and turning to walk back.

The Dark Hour hit somewhere along the way, but alone on the trails with no coffins or Shadows around it felt distant and unobtrusive. The minutes stretched long and comfortable between them just as Minato had hoped they would, until they finally reached the city and its many coffins again.

They did not manage to sneak back to their room without Mitsuru noticing, but for once she didn’t lecture them. Just gave them a knowing look and told them not to sneak off under the teachers’ supervision. She looked… tired.

But then, most of SEES did after the harrowing few weeks and many revelations and near-fatalities they’d had.

They both reminded each other to rest at the same moment, and Mitsuru laughed softly as her expression lightened. It made something ease in his own chest.

They made it back to their room without further incident - other than Junpei made an excessive show of scanning them up and down as though looking for signs of indecency which made Ryoji wink and laugh and Minato throw a pillow at him - before finally collapsing on a futon and passing out.

He distantly heard Junpei trying to tease them for sharing a futon, but Minato was already falling asleep and Ryoji was more than capable of keeping up with Junpei.

He didn’t see the big deal - they’d technically been sharing a futon or bed for years whenever Death manifested, and Ryoji had basically moved into his room in the dorms by this point. But those two seemed to have fun with it so… whatever.

Minato was just satisfied to have Ryoji’s warmth against him as he fell into sleep.

~ ᙙᙖ ~

Much shorter, and more bittersweet than outright angsty than the last one. And very obvious Ryomina rather than implied.

It is still pretty sad though, I know, but that’s unfortunately what happens when you take an angst writer and ask them to try and write fluff.

So it may be obvious by now, but the idea is that this is an everyone lives/no one (on our side) dies route. Ikutsuki, Takaya, and Jin still die, but Shinji (if you want to reference my other fic Numb that’s basically what happens in this route, except add in some flashbacks towards his cousin too), Chidori, and Mitsuru’s father survive because as soon as Minato wakes up with SEES on crosses and Aigis under control he and Thanatos flip out and Ikutsuki ends up with the controller destroyed and himself very very dead.

Evokers might help with Persona evocation, but they aren’t necessary when someone gets in an unstable enough mental state and also has an excessively powerful and autonomous Shadow-turned-Persona in their head. SEES gets a little scared but Thanatos has gone rogue before and never attacked them so…

It’s a whole ordeal but Ikutsuki is the only one that ends up dead, so win?

(The “no one dies” thing does apply to Minato and Ryoji too though so there’s a lot of existential angst here for something that’s not going to happen. Minato and Ryoji are going to pull a Yu and Marie, and Ryoji’s going to absorb Nyx while Minato connects to the Universe and helps him fundamentally change how the draw towards humanity’s death works. Ryoji’s an eventual inevitable heat death situation for humanity somewhere along the line, but that’s so far into the future it’s not even foreseeable so it’s fine.)

[rebelfell]

hi no one look at me pls…🫣😬

“What’s the matter, baby? Something wrong?”

Eddie could only groan in response to your teasing, his whole body tightening in a shudder. It made you chuckle, the flash of his bared teeth gleaming in the low light of your bedroom as you did sending a familiar trickle of excitement down the center of your bowed spine.

You were more used to seeing them in a show of dominance—gnashing and tearing through flesh and tendons—but now they were displayed in a distinctively pained grimace.

The poor thing hovered over you, muscled arms shaking as he held himself up. Incisors digging into the plushness of his bottom lip as he bit down on it before gritting out a response.

“Y-you know I n-need—oh, fuck—permission…”

A whimper tumbled past his lips as his cock slid once more through your folds, unable to sink into the warmth it so desperately craved. He had been at this for what felt like hours, rutting against you over and over, his length gliding through the wet cradle of your center, nudging the head of his cock against an invisible barrier.

Even for someone who’d been alive hundreds of years, it felt like an eternity…

But god did you love seeing him like this. His brow scrunched, the muscles in his neck pulled taught and bulging with every harsh swallow. The fearsome and powerful predator reduced to a whining, writhing, pitiful puddle of need.

“Oh, honey,” you tutted, “is that all?”

Your own casually cruel smile spread across your lips—lacking in all the fanged brutality of his, but no less lethal. His cock jerked, leaking with more dribbles of pearlescent pre that mixed with your spend to make a bigger mess of you both.

You inhaled a deep and lazy sigh, back arching as you stretched, pushing your heat against his bulge to make him simper and squirm.

Which one of you was the monster, again?

“You know,” you cooed all low and sultry, "if you want to come inside…all you have to do is ask.”

Eddie's head dropped in defeat, pieces of his dark curls falling forward after having come loose from the low bun tied at the nape of his neck. Your eyes followed the twitch of his traps, the sculpted back muscles making your mouth water.

He heaved out a heavy sigh at the way you say it, as if he hasn’t spent hours begging for just that.

And yet he’ll ask again.

“P-p…please, baby? Please let me come in?”

Your lips pursed, taking an egregious amount of time to mull it over. Relishing how his dark gaze grew so wide and wet, how his grip tightened on the pillow underneath your head, how his chin wobbled like he was fighting back tears.

Truthfully, you were just as eager to feel the divine stretch of his cock within your wanting walls, but you certainly weren’t about to tell him that.

Perhaps you’d had enough fun for today, though.

He is eyes bulged as you brought your gaze back to meet his, sparkling with as much intrigue as it was mischief. Slowly, you slid your hand around to cup the back of his neck and lifted your head to place your lips beside his ear to whisper,

“You can come in…”

“ohhhhhOHHHHHHHHHHHH—”

The moment, the milisecond, he’s allowed, Eddie’s cock eased inside of you almost without warning—reduced to an unconscious action after so many hours of restraint. Finally feeling the way you squeeze around him so tight is such a relief, so overwhelmingly blissful, it’s nearly painful.

The sound of cotton stitches tearing fills your ears as he rips apart the corner of your pillow, letting his weight drop fully on top of you. He babbled nonsense into your neck, his voice rough and ragged with need, in between eager kisses.

A soft gasp punched from your chest as he filled you and it tapered into a contented sigh. And you can’t help but be tickled by the fact that in all his excitement, Eddie seems to have forgotten one little detail. While he may have permission to come in, he didn’t have it to come inside.

At least not yet.

if vampires can't come inside without permission does that mean that you can just keep riding that thang and they can't um . yknow

[crimsun-n-clover]

psychiatrist gave me a new sleep aim to ward off the batshit violent nightmares of everyone i love dying

thanks i guess

i went out of town with my mom today. drove a little over an hour to a major city to walk around the shops and little gimmicky places. got some dnd shit from a nerd store while mom stared at the miniatures with apprehension (“stevie do you really need these” “yeah they go on the board and are good for battles” “you said yourself that your players suck” “okay MAYBE it’s for me”). didn’t buy any of the fancy dice sets i wanted or anything. i showed the restraint of a goddamn nun. i did get more tacky biker rings though so i guess it balances out.

fell in love with a stray cat there. named him judas because i was listening to judas priest. i miss him.

i spent the rest of the day listening to the fellowship of the ring as an audiobook. i love sam gamgee so fuckin much. “mr frodo sir this fucking sucks can we get drunk” “oh my lovely and faithful sam. no. i wanna put my life at risk.” “shit alright i guess i’ll shield you from the scary ass horses or whatever” like sam and frodo are the epitome of “could you do it,,, for m e?”

sam is a fucking simp and i love him more than i love my own fucking family because they’re straight republicans and not hopelessly devoted homosexual gardeners. i’m a (formerly) hopelessly devoted homosexual and i wanted to be a botanist for a couple years there so i could be a gardener if i didn’t hate the sun so much. he’s just like me <3

“sam we can’t go in there that old bastard set his dogs on me thirty years ago” and pippen goes “nahhhh you’ll be fine :)” and my man sam is like “i’ll fucking kill him mr frodo i don’t care how long ago it was”

frodo is so fucking blorbo. he’s my special little guy. my babygirl. my sopping wet cat in the rain. my scrunkly scrimble doo. i want to wrap him in a nice cotton blanket and gnaw on it like a soft taco. i want to watch him spin around in a microwave. i want to shake him like a snow globe. i am so normal.

i swear i had actual shit to talk about. uhhhh

if i get asked one more time “did you MAKE your jacket” “do you even listen to those bands” or the ever irritating “name three songs” i’m gonna maul someone. like nah jennifer i walked into the punk and metal store and said make me look like a threat to humanity and also a total loser at the same time. like fucking OBVIOUSLY i made it. it’s a battle jacket. have you people ever met someone with an interest in music?? i didn’t give someone a list of bands and tell them to go ham and put shit on crooked. i sat on the floor until five in the goddamn morning with a bag of patches i picked up from my patch dealer (he’s in his 40’s at least and had to move back in with his parents. he has met every member of megadeth and talked to dio before he died. he’s so strange and he even gives me a discount for being so amusing he’s pretty rad) and stabbed my hands until they bled.

i know that’s something petty to get annoyed with but hey man, just because i’m not an old bald dude who goes “YEAHHH SLAYER” at every show doesn’t mean i’m not part of that community. it’s like because i’m feminine looking and young they assume i’m trying to be quirky and different or something. nah dude i’m just actually fucked up.

“your parents must have good taste in music little lady” my mom listens mainly to country, is an ed sheeran super fan, and thinks that those shitty motivational songs are her anthems for putting up with her autistic asshole child. my dad heard me listening to misfits and goes “this guy sounds JUST like danzig” and i was like “i know????” and we looked at each other for a minute before i had to explain to him that danzig was IN misfits. i also was stealing his cds and found FOUR FUCKING NICKELBACK ALBUMS. so nah man i’m just a fuckin freak. a complete oddity. a deviant of my bloodline.

i don’t know how to end this i’m getting woozy with my meds so farewell tumblr i shall see you past daybreak tomorrow

[aesteraceae]

Count

Pairing: 3racha (Chan, Changbin, Jisung) x AFAB Reader

Summary: After weeks of not touching them, you come up with a game for your next meeting with the boys.

Tags under the cut!

Tags: Sub Chan, sub Changbin, sub Jisung, Dom reader, vibrators, crying, begging, overstimulation, spanking, bondage, cumming untouched, mommy kink, noona kink, breast play, degradation, reader is kinda mean in this, grinding, subspace

Taglist: @sunnyville36 @snow-pegasus @toastyseungmo @sstarryreads

See, when you go on a world tour where 90% of your time is spent on a stage or on your way to a stage, it's difficult to get time for sleep, let alone sex.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Chan, Changbin, and Jisung have a problem.

And even after, the next 3 weeks are spent doing more promotions, sleeping, eating, working, working, working.

The first actual break they get is 4 weeks after the tour ends — one full weekend completely to themselves.

And naturally, they call you.

Your sexual relationship with the unit had been strained somewhat while they were so busy, restricted only to sexting or moaned promises late at night.

Which is why you're delighted to receive a call with Jisung on the other end, already moaning into the receiver.

And that's how you ended up here, 3 needy boys on the bed, all nude and desperate.

A bit of convincing and tickets to a new movie got the other members out of the dorms for at least a few hours, so you're alone, with the boys completely at your mercy.

You lean against the wall, watching them.

They're lined up shoulder to shoulder, all with their hands behind their backs and secured to the headboard. Jisung and Changbin are busy making out, while Chan sits with his eyes shut tight and head rolled back.

And, your favorite part, they all have vibrators inside them.

They're just on a low setting now, but you'd come to realize that the three of them were extremely sensitive.

If you had to decide, Changbin was probably taking it the best. He'd only just started leaking precum, and the vibrators had been on for almost 10 minutes now. He seems more preoccupied with kissing Jisung breathless than the vibrator, but his hips still fuck up into nothing every so often.

Jisung and Chan, though...

Well. They weren't crying yet, if that said anything.

Jisung probably has it harder than Chan right now, driven insane by Changbin's lips and tongue, a treat you let yourself indulge in as often as you could. He's tried thrashing against the restraints, but the handcuffs are solid. If Changbin couldn't break through them, Jisung definitely didn't stand a chance at it.

His little whines don't go unnoticed by you, but they're somewhat drowned out by Chan.

He's been babbling since the moment you turned on the toy, moaning and writhing, and you're convinced that he could cum like this if you gave him enough time.

You tuck that idea away for later and finally approach the bed, kneeling in front of them.

You snap in front of Changbin and Jisung's faces to get their attention, but Changbin just glares at you and kisses Jisung harder.

You put your hand behind your back to suppress the urge to pull them apart by the hair, and instead reach for the small counter toy on the nightstand.

You bought it a few months ago to count how many times you could get Jisung to orgasm, but it hasn't been used for much else. Today, though, you planned to use it for something else.

You add one tick to the counter, making a distinct clicking noise, and Jisung pulls back, startled.

"Good, now that you two are done fucking like rabbits, I can speak."

You don't hide the annoyance in your voice, smiling a little at how Changbin winces, scolded.

"As you heard, I have the counter out. Since it's been so long since I've had my hands on you three, I've come up with a little game."

You show them the little device, and you watch Jisung swallow hard at it.

"Every single time any of you disobey, I'll add a point. I decide how many depending on what you messed up. Then, I'll make all 3 of you cum as many times as the counter says."

Chan moans particularly loudly, and you can't help but glare at him.

"I'm talking. Shut up."

He just gets louder, shuddering, and you reach over to smack his thigh, admiring the red spot it leaves.

Chan sobs, folding over himself with a shout, and you watch, startled, as he fucks up into nothing.

"Chan."

"I'm sorry! It- it snuck up on me, and I didn't even- I'm sorry, I know I should have asked, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Sometimes, when you're in softer moods, it's difficult to tease Chan. He cries so easily, and he always looks so pitiful and overwhelmed when he does something wrong that it makes you want to hold him, rather than punish him.

Other times, like now, all you can think about is how you can make him cry harder.

"God, are you really that pathetic? I knew you were easy but come on, Chan. It's the lowest level."

He sobs, still babbling out apologies, but you just click your tongue and add 3 points to the counter. Feigning annoyance, you grab his hair and drag his head back up.

"Be quiet. How am I supposed to hear myself think while you're screaming like a child?"

Chan gasps and closes his mouth.

He still sniffles every now and then, but like the good boy he is, you can barely hear him now.

"Good. Because you listened well, I'll take off one of the points, yeah?"

He nods, tears still pouring down his cheeks. "Thank you, mommy."

"Mhm. Don't let that happen again. You'll be having all the orgasms you want and more soon enough."

"Yes, mommy. I'm sorry for- for being greedy."

Gosh, he just made it so hard to stay mad at him.

Against your better judgment, you pet his hair. "I know. I know you're a good boy, Channie."

He seems to calm down at that, and you turn towards the other two, satisfied.

"Okay. Hm, who to use first..."

You tap your chin, watching each of them squirm.

After a moment you snap your fingers and reach behind Jisung, untying him from the headboard and leading him to lie over your thighs.

"Noona? Are you-"

A loud smack muffles whatever he was about to say, and you watch him shove his face into the sheets.

"Because I know how much of a slut you are for it, I'm going to spank you. Count each one, if you mess up or cum without permission I'll add the number you missed to the counter."

Jisung whines, hips already rutting against your thigh. "Yes, noona. I'll be good."

"I doubt it." You murmur, before spanking him 6 times in quick succession.

"Jesus-" Jisung whines, obviously stunned by how harsh the slaps were, and you sigh as you add 6 points to the counter.

"They're very simple rules. Are all 3 of you going to be dumb whores tonight?"

You dig your nails into Jisung's thigh, spreading his legs to expose more of the plug.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry noona, I'll be good!"

"Shut the fuck up. I don't care about what you have to say, understand me? You saying you'll be good doesn't mean anything if you can't even get through one order."

Jisung sniffles, but he raises his hips, as if inviting you to try again.

You only smack him once this time, and he only gasps before gritting out "Seven."

"That's more like it."

He does remarkably well, all things considered. He gets all the way to 24, sniffling and sobbing but reciting each number perfectly.

That is, until you smack him directly over the plug in his ass.

Admittedly, he's good at hiding it. He just lets out one choked whine and then he goes silent, but you can feel the wetness on your thighs.

You click your tongue and take your time adding all 25 points to the counter, holding Jisung's hips up to make sure he doesn't get a full orgasm.

"Stupid whore. How hard is it for you two to wait for permission? It's a shame, too, I was going to let you cum once you got to 30."

You drag him off of you by the hair, guiding him back to the headboard and tying him up again.

"Changbin."

You let your voice drop down into something sweet and tempting, sitting up in front of him so his face is directly in front of your chest.

"You'll be a good boy, won't you? You'll do anything if it means you get to see mommy's tits, huh?"

He doesn't even look at you, practically hypnotized, and you bounce slightly just to see the way his pupils dilate.

"Yeah. I wanna touch them, can I please?"

You click your tongue, sliding up so you're straddling his hips.

"I don't know, baby, do you deserve it?"

Changbin nods, and you can tell it's taking everything he has not to lean forward and smother himself in your chest.

"Aww, does my baby really want to see mommy's tits that bad? You're such a little pervert."

Changbin goes red, but he can't tear his eyes away.

"Please..." You look over at Chan and Jisung and jolt a little at their heated gazes.

Chan has drool sliding down his chin, and Jisung is already getting hard again.

"Oh, it looks like all 3 three of my boys are perverts, huh? Here, if you three can behave while I give you a little show, I'll take off 10 points. How does that sound?"

"Yes! I'll be good mommy, I promise."

Chan is quick to reply, Jisung following soon after, but Changbin doesn't even look like he heard you.

You laugh and flick his forehead, jolting him out of his trance.

"Little pervert." You tease, slowly grinding up onto his thigh.

His entire body tenses up, which just makes you moan. You'd be lying if you said this hasn't affected you, watching them beg and cry for anything you were willing to give left your panties soaked through.

It's nice to just grind down on Changbin's thigh for a bit, feeling all of their eyes on you, knowing they're watching your every movement and trying not to cum.

"Fuck, oh my god."

Jisung looks about ready to break his handcuffs, leaning as close to you as possible.

"Hey, back up. Sit still and behave."

"Mommy, please-"

Changbin's panting, embarrassed tears bubbling up in the corners of his eyes as he watches you move. You're not sure if he's close to cumming or just desperate, but he's growing frantic.

"Shh, baby. Don't you want to help your momma cum?"

"Yes! Please, I want you to cum on me, please!"

"So eager," You laugh, but it's breathless and you can feel yourself falling apart.

"Be a good boy and tell mommy how good you feel, yeah?"

Jisung whines, impatient and angry, so you reach over to swat his thigh hard.

There's already a red mark left behind, and you decide to keep a hand on it for support and to make him squirm.

"C'mon, honey. You can talk too, Channie. Jisung, keep quiet or I'll add 20 points, and then these two needy puppies will have to suffer because of your misbehavior."

Chan doesn't even give Jisung a chance to respond, mouth opening into a breathless stream of words. "You're so beautiful, so hot. I'm close just from watching you, I want to see you cum, the face you make. It's been so long, I missed you so much, I missed this, please please cum, I'd be honored to see it."

You can't help the low moan his words draw out of your mouth, tossing your head back as heat pools in your hips.

You glance down at Changbin again and laugh, tipping his head up.

He still tries to stare down at your chest, but you dig your fingernail into his chin and he finally meets your gaze.

His eyes are lidded and dark, dazed, and you can't help but kiss him.

Changbin was always the easiest to get into subspace, and he's also the most fun when he's there.

He whimpers against your lips, quiet and pathetic, and you only kiss him for a moment but he's panting like a dog when you pull away.

"What do you want to do, honey?"

He seems confused by the question for a moment, even tilting his head to the side like a dog, but eventually he speaks. "Wanna suck momma's tits."

"Of course, baby." You sit up a bit to let him latch on, and he immediately melts, as if having your nipple in his mouth was where he was always meant to be.

The extra stimulation definitely doesn't help your composure, but that was alright. The boys were already hooked on you, and your moans were obviously enough to keep them riled up.

Changbin switches to your other nipple and the temperature shift is enough to push you over the edge, groaning as you ride it out.

Your entire body is buzzing, but you're lucid enough to climb off of him. You rest against the bed for a moment, and they're all whimpering when you look back up at them.

You pick up the counter and tick down the promised 10 points, but even that still leaves 23 left.

"Well then. You three have a very busy night ahead of you, hm?"

[blackleatherjacketz]

Squeaky Wheel

Blue Jones (Sucker Punch) x Female Reader

Summary: You’re one of Blue’s best girls but he doesn’t really notice you until you start acting up.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, Sadism, Masochism, Bondage, Orgasm Denial, Choking, Face Grabbing, Blood Licking, Ear Biting, Neck Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Spanking, Vaginal Sex, Power Imbalance, Emotional Manipulation, Pain and Punishment, Daddy Issues, Praise Kink, Blue using his tie as a restraint, Violence

Word Count: 3K

Notes: He’s a MURDERER! But he’s kinda cute... Obviously I don’t condone this man’s behavior, but let’s have fun with him today!

Read other Oscar stories HERE!

“Shut the door behind you.” Blue beckons you into his office with two ringed fingers as he rests his hips lazily against his desk, one leg crossed in front of the other. “Lock it.” His clenched jaw contradicts his casual stance, eyes sullen and dark as they carefully watch your every move.

You nod and silently do as you’re told, twisting the latch in the doorknob as the air in the room suddenly feels more tangible, more… crowded. Gooseflesh prickles at the back of your neck as you turn around to face him, his hypnotic stare reminding you of why you acted up in the first place.

You’d spent weeks under his care with a series of ‘almost’ touches brushing by your face, hands and hips. He’d leave you wanting more after luring you in with only a look, putting his hands on other girls right in front of you while maintaining direct eye contact the entire time. You felt like he was taunting you, showing you what you could have if you only opened up your mouth and asked for it. Then again he’d turn right around and praise you for being his favorite girl who didn’t need much of anything or give him any headaches.

Part of you knew you’d have to face the music when you lashed out the way you did today, that you’d end up here in his office waiting with bated breath for him to dole out whatever punishment he deemed worthy. But you didn’t care, you wanted him to touch you like he did the others, to touch you at all instead of teasing you with a false hope before sliding his hand up someone else’s skirt. You’ve already accepted the fact that you could end up isolated from everyone and everything for an ungodly amount of time, that you could be stripped of what little privileges you had, but any attention from Blue was good attention at this point, and a locked door means that it’s just you and him.

“I assume I don’t have to tell you why I asked you here, Princess.” He stands up from his spot on the desk, uncrossing his legs with an exaggerated step forward.

“No.” You mumble, the cut on your cheek serving as a reminder of the fight you got into just a few hours ago.

“That’s good.” He takes his time sauntering between the two seats facing his desk, caressing the leather of their armrests as he makes his way toward you. His hungry eyes take in the sight of your bruised and battered face before he stops just beyond the chairs. “Now, I shouldn’t have to remind you that we expect everyone here to follow the rules, no matter how good they’ve been for me in the past.” He pauses for dramatic effect, a little trait of Blue’s you’ve gotten used to over the past couple of weeks. “You’re one of my best girls, one of my very favorites, so you can imagine my surprise when I heard that you, of all people, were the one causing problems today.”

“I didn’t start it, you should have heard her, she said I was a…” You try to sell the idea of actually being triggered by her, but he cuts you off instead.

“Ah!” He closes the gap between you, pressing a finger to your lips. “I don’t want to hear it, okay? Sarah’s still in the infirmary, and the doctor says that you might have broken her arm. Now, normally I’d put you in the cell and leave you there to rot until you learned your lesson.” He tilts his head to the side as he traces the outline of your lips, gently pulling on the bottom one before it bounces back into place. “But something tells me that’s not going to work with you.”

He grabs your chin and pulls you into him, the pressure from his fingers scraping the inner lining of your cheeks against your teeth. “Oh, what? Does that hurt?” He smiles as you whimper, licking his lips as he squeezes even tighter to reopen the cut on your cheek that had barely begun to heal. “Hmm?”

You nod within his grasp, eyes watering as a sharp pain shoots through your face as he walks you backward against the door.

“It should.” He nods with a smirk, brushing his lips against your cheek as he slowly parts them. “This is how you make me feel when you act out like this, when you don’t behave!” He pushes you harder against the door, pressing his mouth up to your ear as his hips dig into your belly. “Did you know that I have to read everyone’s file who walks through these doors? Huh?” Another forceful shove. “Learn every little detail about them so I can give them exactly what they need while they’re here?”

You try to answer but the taste of blood starts filling your mouth, the pain now radiating into your jaw as his fingers pinch like a vice. “No,” you mutter, the scent of his cologne now dizzying your senses as his cheek rests on yours.

“Well, I read all about you today, sweetheart, and you know what I found out?” He takes a deep breath and exhales against the shell of your ear, sending those goosebumps down your neck again all the way down to your toes. “Two little words and your temper tantrum today finally made sense to me. Two little words and I figured out why you let her get so many shots in before taking her down like I knew you could.” He licks your earlobe before taking it into his mouth, biting down hard as a quick cry escapes your lips. “Masochistic Tendencies.”

You close your eyes as he finally gives you what you want, humming the tune of some Frank Sinatra song as his tongue massages your cartilage. His teeth dig in just enough to leave a mark before pulling it taut, nearly biting your ear clean off. You wrap your arms around his torso as all the moisture from your body pools between your legs, wanting nothing more than for him to rip your clothes off and get inside of you already.

“Blue,” you moan, the blood from your cut dripping down his fingers and onto your chest. It’s hot and viscous, a slow crimson trail streaming down between your breasts as he pulls back from your face to overtly lap it up. You feel him moan against your skin as he tastes you, tantalizing vibrations pulsing into your rib cage as he replaces that deep red line with the sheer slick of his saliva.

He mouths his way up your neck, licking and sucking little bruises into the delicate skin of your throat until he reaches your cheek. The salt of his tongue stings your freshly open wound, forcing you to suck your breath in through clenched teeth as his grip on your face eventually loosens. His mouth finally meets yours, the taste of blood, smoke and bourbon mixing together as he kisses you with more voracity than you could ever imagine.

You groan into him, your body keening for more as you feel his hand smooth its way down your chin and jaw before wrapping itself around your neck, tightening just enough to force your eyes open.

“You actually like the pain, don’t you?” He asks in a hushed tone, pushing his thumb against your pulse. “You fucking love it.”

You’ve never admitted that to anyone before, but you see no sense in lying to him at this point. “Yes,” you nod.

“Then you’re gonna love what I have planned for you.” He tightens his grip on your throat, stifling your breath for a moment before smiling deliciously and letting go, stepping away from you entirely.

You place your own hand around your throat in an effort to soothe your irritated skin, watching him make his way over to his desk as he shrugs out of his blazer.

“Masochism is a funny thing,” he starts, gently folding his jacket before placing it over the back of the chair. “I would have pegged you as a sadist for what brought you in here, but I understand that women are complicated creatures. They have layers and facets to them they aren’t prepared to show everybody.” He loosens his tie and slides it out from around his collar. “You weren’t ready to show me who you were until now, and I can respect that, but you could have just told me what you wanted without bringing Sarah into all this. She’ll heal, sure, but because of what you did, I have to keep up appearances so that none of the other girls get any ideas.”

He starts to wrap his tie around his hand, leaving it to dangle loosely around his wrist. “I had you lock the door because I know they might start to listen in on us once you start screaming.” He nonchalantly points to the door behind you, biting his bottom lip with a sly grin. He beckons you once more the way he did when you first walked into his office, only this time more intently.

Your body freezes for a split second as its alarm bells start to go off, that look in his eyes teetering between seductive and angry, almost vengeful as he points to a spot on the floor directly in front of him.

“Come here,” he orders.

You swallow hard and decide to go against your body’s own warning, walking over to the spot on the carpet he’s designated just for you. You’re not sure if you’re more scared or excited, maybe seventy percent excited, thirty percent scared, or was it the other way around? You can’t be sure.

“Lean over the chair.” His voice is cold and callous.

Jesus Christ, you can feel yourself start to soak through your panties already. Did he read every single paragraph of every single page in your case file? Had he picked your brain apart quickly enough to know exactly what you want? Or was he just like you, the other side of the same sick and twisted coin? You hold your breath as you look at him, lust flushing his cheeks as your stomach starts churning, the anticipation almost as painful as the cut on your face.

“Hands behind your back.”

You fold your arms behind you and turn towards the chair, slowly leaning forward as you rest your belly against the backrest.

“That’s a good girl,” he feathers his fingers down your arms, tracing little designs onto them before sliding his tie underneath them. The silk garment cools your skin as it surrounds your wrists once, twice, then three times before he finishes the circle with a tight little knot, tugging on it to make sure it won’t come loose. “See what happens when you obey?”

You close your eyes and hold your breath as he hooks his fingers beneath your shorts and underwear, pulling them down past your ass at an agonizing pace.

“Would you look at that?” You feel his fingers slide between your lips, gliding easily up toward your clit as your juices provide the perfect lubrication. “You’re all wet and we’ve barely even started. We’re gonna have to throw these out and get you some new ones.” He brushes your bud for a split second before pulling his hand back out, a suckling sound telling you that he’s sampling your flavor just before sliding your shorts the rest of the way down your thighs. “I can’t believe you’d ruin the nice things I’ve bought for you.”

SMACK!

You drop your head as his palm makes contact with your left ass cheek, a sharp twinge of pain forcing all the air out of your lungs.

SMACK!

He shows no mercy before he spanks your other cheek even harder than the left. “How does that feel, Princess?” He smooths his hand over your skin, keeping his touch light and delicate as the fine hair on your lower back stands on end. “I don’t hear any feedback yet, do I need to hit you a little harder?”

Instead of waiting for you to answer, he smacks your ass relentlessly without giving you any time to recover in between each strike as you begin to writhe beneath him. One right after another, five or six times with a force so powerful it seems to somehow grow exponentially. That pain he sends shooting up your spine rocks your body forward as your muscles tense and shake, contracting your hips to make them flush against the leather of the chair.

Your juices now run down your legs as your creamy center continues to swell, the flesh on your backside quickly becoming hot and raw. The sound of his skin colliding with yours is the only thing you can hear at this point, most of your energy spent trying to control your breathing as you wonder why you were stupid enough to believe he’d give you any time to recover from each blow.

“Blue, please!” You cry out, tears finally welling up in your eyes as the sting sinks deep into your muscles. You want him to continue, to bring your body to the brink of collapse, but don’t know if you'll be able to sit down tomorrow if he keeps this up.

“Please, what? You want me to stop?”

You shake your head. “No.”

He shifts his weight and stands directly behind you, placing both hands on your hips before spreading your cheeks wide open. “You should really see yourself right now, Princess. You’re so fucking red, I mean, one more spanking and I think I just might break the skin.” He pauses, the expression on his face a mere mystery to you. “Now, what were you saying, again? ‘Please Blue, what’?” He bends over and wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing as tightly as he can without cutting off your pulse or crushing your windpipe. “You want me to fuck you, is that it?”

You nod with a frustrated groan, feeling his hardened cock press against your chapped cheeks through his strained dress pants.

“You think that’s what this is about?” He whispers against your face, sliding his fingers up and down your dripping wet length before massaging your clit with impeccable precision. “This is supposed to be a punishment, sweetheart, not a reward.” He rubs your bud up and down, increasing his pressure with each blissful stroke. “So I’ll tell you what… you ask me real nice, and I’ll fuck you, but you don’t get to come.”

You moan as he kisses your temple, legs and arms quaking as he holds your top half up by your throat.

“I think that’s punishment enough, don’t you?” He pulls his fingers back and slips them inside your entrance, just barely reaching that bundle of nerves as you start to squirm.

“Mm-Hmm,” you whisper, hopelessly pushing your hips back against his hand to get some leverage.

“Well? I’m waiting,” he prompts.

“Please Blue, will you fuck me?” You’ve never had to beg for sex before, the idea always sounding too degrading on so many levels, but you wanted him, hell, you needed him; and you’d do anything to get what you wanted right now. “Please?” You beg.

“Now, that’s more like it.” Blue kisses your cheek before letting go of your throat and unzipping his pants. He leaves you without the comfort of his body heat as the cold air in his office suddenly chills the excoriated skin on your cheeks, shaking you to your core. “See how easy that was?”

He grabs hold of your hips and forcefully pushes himself inside without warning, shocking your nervous system even more than before. He groans to himself as he bottoms out, humming more of that song he was singing earlier as his balls brush rhythmically against your clit. He pulls out just a little bit, snaking one hand up to your silken restraint as he pushes inside again, pulling you into him like reins on a horse.

The burn from his freshly grown out stubble scrapes against your fragile skin, causing your arousal to drip down both of your thighs as he pulls out farther, pushing back in deeper and faster each time. He rides into you like this for the entirety of the song he sings, something about ‘My Way’ as the words spout in and out of his mouth with “fuck” and “Jesus Christ” sputtering in between each verse and chorus.

You can feel your muscles clench down around his cock, pulsating as he enters you repeatedly, his hips snapping into you as both of your breaths begin to hitch. “I told you not to come,” he grumbles.

“Okay!” You gasp as he leans over you, pulling your wrists back far enough to strain your chest and shoulders as he desperately fucks into you, his pace increasing drastically with each tormenting thrust.

You hold your breath and try not to climax, doing your best not to focus on the sensation the head of his cock sends into your core each time it hits that special spot. You try not to think about how good it feels to be filled up completely and stretched out by something other than your own two fingers for the first time in months, or how the sound of his voice and the smell of his sweat had almost already sent you over the edge entirely.

“Oh my God!” Blue releases his hold on you and pulls out suddenly, depriving you of feeling him twitch and spasm inside your walls as he coats your back and arms with his orgasm. His white hot fluid shoots out onto your skin as he moans and growls, the girth of his shaft slowly gliding between your ass cheeks as his balls tighten with his release.

“Good job, Princess.” He smacks your ass one more time for good measure, untying your wrists from their bond before setting his tie on the chair next to his jacket. “Consider yourself punished.”

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Tags: @arsonhotchner @autismsupermusicalassassin @likedovesinthewnd @acutecupidity @oscarseyebrow @cozykali​ @letsby​