#I feel like I briefly did but ah well lol

[houseofmad]

This is my latest artwork so I have A LOT of older ones and old WIPs I’ve been slowly working on that I never posted here but I’m really proud of this one so I will post it here.

[syoddeye]

kinktober - day 07 - virgin

gaz x f!reader | 2.3k words cw: gaz pov, some manipulation/kyle isn’t the most well meaning man in this, implied pining lol, mutual masturbation, piv sex summary: kyle's lifelong best friend happens to mention she's a virgin. it's a good thing he's a gentleman. sort of. a/n: i intended to stick to my wc but then the voices (kyle) kept talking banner by @/cafekitsune | kinktober list

Her bra hooks the back of her desk chair—lucky shot.

Kyle’s on a lucky streak, seems like. First, securing leave. A feat in and of itself. Second, successfully talking his way into staying at his best girl’s place. Third, though perhaps the most engineered, getting her not-quite-boyfriend to leave. 

She was upset, of course. Cried into his shoulder for two days. She didn’t understand why Whatshisface had left so abruptly and stopped returning her messages. She bemoaned her return to sudden singleness and the barely-off-the-ground relationship. Kyle amused her. Comforted her. Assured her there was nothing she was missing out on.

(A leading statement. Makes targets keen to correct. She, being no different, immediately said—)

“Yes there is!”

“Doubt it. Matthew didn’t seem like one to carry particularly stimulating conversations.”

“His name was Michael, and let’s just say, I might as well convert and join a convent.”

Hook. “What do you mean by that?”

Line. Wiggling. “I just…I mean I’ve never…”

Come on. “Never what?”

“Fucked. Okay? I’ve never fucked someone.” 

Sinker.

He thanked himself for acing every RTI course he’d taken, what with the journey his insides took at such an admission. Never in a million years did he think he’d get so lucky. He had wondered if he’d lost his chance ages prior, a lifetime ago. 

And she said it all self-deprecatingly. She laughed at herself. But he watched her face fall. 

Then, rise, tentatively, with his offer.

“Say the word, and I’ll save you from the sisters.”

Which led him here, her bra settling against a piece of furniture, a pair of fantastic tits spilling damn near his face.

Kyle lowers and buries his face into the cradle of her neck and shoulder. A moan slips from her mouth as he presses a kiss there, stubble rasping her skin. He grunts, teeth scraping and hands shoving up to palm at her chest. Thumbs swiping over her nipples, feeling them harden further.

Her honeyed voice in his ear, gasping softly. “Ah, Kyle.”

Kyle grins against her neck. So sensitive, so responsive. He cannot wait to hear what sort of sounds he’ll pry out of her.

He pulls back, meeting her half-lidded gaze with his own. Anticipating coiling in his stomach as his hands smooth up her thighs, then tuck under the waistband of her panties. Seeing no obvious distress or discomfort, he tugs them down, teeth resting on his bottom lip at the unveiling of her body. He groans at the sight of her coarse curls, he loves a woman with a bush, but his lips part at the sight of her pussy. It’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Another time, further down the road—he’ll ask her for a picture. Just for him.

“Won’t it be awkward?” She had asked. 

“We’ve known each other since we could walk. What could be more natural?” He’d answered.

Kyle swallows thickly, coaxing her legs open through their squirming. Eating her up with just his eyes, stuck to the wet seam of her cunt. 

He briefly considers diving right in, burying his mouth and nose until he suffocates, but he wants her worked up. Aching for it. So his eyes flick back to her tits, and his hands follow. He watches intently as he toys with her nipples, pinching and rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers. He doesn’t miss a single twinge of her brow or inhalation. She’s good for him the whole time, hands stuck at her sides. She’s already clutching the sheets like a lifeline. 

Soon enough, her mouth’s caught in a perpetual gasp, and he sinks back down to capture it in a languid kiss. He allows her to take the lead, rewarding her eagerness by letting her dictate its duration, and his chest cracks at the soft sigh she gives him in turn. With her thoroughly relaxed, he experimentally rocks his hips, letting his clothed tip gingerly bump against her clit. The fingers on his back muscles tense and dig in, but the little shiver he feels pass through her chest into his makes him smile into her mouth.

He withdraws, tongue passing over his lips as he reclines. Breathing heavily, he tilts his head, palming his cock.

“Touch yourself. Show me how you like it.”

“Kyle,” she pouts. “That’s not—can’t you just…?”

“No can do, babe. Don’t want to make a mess of this, ‘least not yet,” he smirks, ignoring the small smack she delivers to his knee. “I want to see what you do. Everyone’s different.”

“Don’t remind me of how many people you’ve slept with.”

Attitude is a defense mechanism. A cute defense mechanism but a barrier all the same. He pulls further back, delighting in the deepening of her frown. She needs to learn.

“And you don’t give me that lip. Touch yourself. I know you know how. No way you’ve neglected that pretty pussy for so long.”

She huffs and complains a minute more but rewards his patience. One hand snakes down and tentatively rubs her clit, movements stiff, still shy, and tucks a finger into her hole. It’s adorable, the shallow plunge. It’s a miracle she’s ever gotten off before, what with how unsatisfying it looks compared to what Kyle knows he can give her. Will give her.

His focus shifts back to her face as he slowly discards his pants, needing to free his cock with the sounds her finger makes in her hole. He watches her eyes widen as it bobs free, tracking every move as he maneuvers atop the bed, stripping them off entirely.

“Like what you see, babe?”

“Y-Yeah.” The way she lifts her gaze seems mechanical.

Already leaking, his cock twitches in his palm on an upstroke. He hasn’t slept with a virgin in so long—he’d forgotten what that meld of hunger and curiosity looks like. She doesn’t look away at the slick sound of his pre spreading over his head under his thumb, nor when there’s an audible, wet suction around her finger. She bites her lip, eyes watering. Sweet thing. So close to grasping what she’s been missing.

“Add another.” She hesitates but complies, and he nearly comes watching the pinch of her face as she dips a second finger into pussy. “Ah, no. Keep looking at me, angel. That’s right. Focus on the feeling.”

And like that, slow and steady, he talks her into a third.

“It hurts.” she whines, despite the weak buck of her hips into her hand.

If you think that hurts sits on the curl of his tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth. The backs of his fingers are drenched in precome. More than once, he’s had to pause. “I know, but it’ll ease up. I’m bigger than two of your fingers.”

“Then why don’t you,” she gasps, eyes briefly fluttering shut. “Why don’t you use yours?”

He’d like to. Truly. The thought makes him dizzy. But that would require him to be a better man than he is, if only she’d brought this up four, five years earlier. His fingers can go another day.

“Because,” his jaw works. He’s well aware of the knife’s edge he walks. Everything he says before he’s inside her is a coin flip. “I don’t want my fingers to be the first part of me inside you, babe.”

Her eyes widen a fraction, and to his relief, she moans. “Fuck, Kyle, that’s…That’s so…”

“I know.” He grins. 

She ends up stuffing her pussy with four fingers, the last digit tucks in without his urging. He stops her after her breath hitches. She pouts again.

“Shouldn’t I come first? Before–?”

“You’re wet enough, believe me,” He teases. It’s a little mean, but he’s impatient. He’s never been able to maintain the same stillness his job requires out of the field. “I think you’re ready. Feel ready?”

Kyle barely kills a smug smile as she firmly presses her lips together before finally eking out a yes, steady but thin. Her shoulders are loose, but her slick fingers curl nervously over her belly like she’s trying to hold herself together. Her eyes flicker with something she’s trying hard not to show, something just beneath the surface, but she keeps her face neutral.

The sense of satisfaction is a small thrill. Not from her answer but from knowing he’s got her this far.

He chucks her chin as it dips, lowering his own to keep their eyes level. “You know I’ll be gentle, right? As much as I can? You trust me, don’t you?” He makes a show of opening and rolling on the condom. It’s a small travesty, but he’ll get her on the pill soon enough. If anything, it makes her less likely to back out.

As she nods, he lays her back. Listens to her intently. “I know, I know.” She mumbles, but her eyes snap to his cock, its weight resting in the crease of her thigh. 

“Don’t worry, relax.” he whispers, brushing his lips against hers, then pressing into a kiss. He takes advantage of a gasp to deepen it, moving his hips and adjusting his cock to let it slip over her folds. He groans, nudging her clit with its head. She’s soaking, radiating pure heat. 

This is the part where he should reassure her, say “If it hurts too much, or if you want me to stop, tell me.” He doesn’t. He’s gone years thinking this was out of reach. Impossible. ‘Natural’, he told her. Same as ‘inevitable’, he thinks.

Bracing himself on one arm, he guides his cock to her hole, eyes drilling into where his tip disappears. Just a hint, enough to make sweat break out along his neck. Warmth flows from her sex, as inviting as a hearth. Notched, he starts to push in, fingers leaving his length to return to her clit. Standby mode for when—

“Shh, you’re alright,” it’s automatic when a pitiful whine escapes. He looks from her wide eyes to the crease between her brows and parted lips. “Fuck, it’s so good, babe. You’re alright.” He kisses her chin and jaw, the corners of her open maw, as another uncertain, wavering noise strikes high from her throat.

He pauses to kiss her deeply again, swallowing a few more gasps as he lets her adjust a bit. He toys with her clit, continuing his push. Her nails bite into his shoulders, and she whimpers a weak apology against his mouth that makes his chest ache and restraint slip. He burrows in a few inches all at once.

His sudden burst punches a loud, surprised sound out of her, one that puffs right past his ear. She pants against the shell, muttering over and over as she adjusts around him.

“Ohgodohgodohgod—“

He quiets her with more kisses, eventually getting her to take it down an octave and use her words.

His arm burns from flexing, muscles working to keep him partly hovering above her, sweat dripping from his brow. She’s so unbelievably tight, wet, and molten around his cock. It’s everything he’s wanted and more. A slice of heaven gifted to him, made for just him. No one else. She might go on to sleep with other people—hopefully not, if he plays this right—but he’s the one she will remember.

“Kyle…S’big,” she slurs, lips moving against his cheek. 

“You’re alright,” he repeats with a chuckle, a sample of the loud, mad laugh he feels tickling his throat. Triumphant. “Talk to me. How else do you feel?”

“It didn’t—It’s…weird?” She echoes a delirious giggle, twinging when he shifts his weight. She doesn’t look too sure. “But…”

“But what?”

“Can you keep touching…y-yeah, like that.”

He smirks, kisses her, and hastens the circles on her clit. He decides he can grind for a bit and find every last inch he can claim. Slowly but surely, her breathing levels and her cunt gives up territory. Lets him in until his balls are flush with the cushion of her ass. 

“There we go, look at that.” He pulls back slightly to admire where he ends, and she begins, the smell of sex and sweat dizzying. “No convent for you.”

She lets out a shaky breath, one hand letting go of him to scrub over her eyes in giddy disbelief. “Thank God.”

“Thank me.”

That gets him a swat, but the hand that strikes scrambles around his arm when he pulls out and snaps back in. Beyond that, there’s not much talking. Not much thinking, either. Rapture gradually twists her face, and he practically watches any traces of her earlier shyness and embarrassment fly out the window.

A frisson runs down her spine, a sharp, electric shudder that tells him he’s found the right spot. He adjusts accordingly, setting course to hit with each thrust, and rubs her clit in tandem. Her knees knock against his sides, pressing, mirroring her cunt’s clenching and fluttering. 

“‘M close, Kyle, I’m close—”

“I know, can feel it. You’re strangling me, shit, you feel good—come on, angel.”

Every roll of his hips makes her moan and gasp, the sounds climbing higher and higher. His shoulders are numb where her nails hold on like the pain’s settled beneath the surface or fled from pleasure. When her legs dig into his side and hold, he drops closer again, speeding up his fingers to draw her even tighter around his cock.

His name leaves her mouth broken over the sharp edge of a wail as she comes hard, body spasming beneath him, squeezing the life out of him. She goes lax after a moment, save for her hands, still holding on with a feather-light strength. Her teary eyes crack open and dart across what must be an ugly look of conquest on his face. He wonders in the seconds before he fills the condom if she sees the devotion there, too, or if it’s eclipsed by all his coveting.

After, she thanks him with a kiss so tender, his cock stirs. Laying face to face, entangled and intertwined, she feels it against her thigh and laughs tiredly.

“You joking? You’re insatiable.”

Kyle stares hard, chest heaving at the fleeting but vivid image of her on her knees floating through his head. 

“You have no idea.”

[misc-obeyme]

Sigh. Okay. Here's the Levi demon form smut. I don't think it turned out very good, but I'm tired of messing with it. And I spent time writing it, so I figure I might as well post it. I'm sorry, Levi, I swear I'll do you justice one day~

GN!MC x Leviathan

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: penetration (reader receiving), Levi being silly and blushy and anxious, demon form, tail stuff (I'm struggling with how to label this - the tail wraps around MC, MC sucks on the end of it, and it also stimulates MC but doesn't penetrate... okay that'll have to do I guess), sexy potion (briefly mentioned and Levi drank it lol), cockwarming, biting, man I hope that's it

Leviathan was already bright red. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, but the blush covering his face was so sweet. He was in his bathtub, back against several pillows and you in his lap. Two piles of clothes were on the floor nearby. He'd been nervous from the start, even though you had done this before. You tried to get him to relax, but it was clear that most of the things you did only made it worse.

You ran your hands over his chest as you pushed back against his erection.

You put your hand on his cheek. “Please, Levi?”

“M-MC!” he protested.

You had asked him if he would shift into demon form and the idea of it flustered him so bad he couldn’t look at you.

You kissed his warm cheeks. “I just wanna see you,” you said as you trailed your lips down his neck.

Levi shivered at the light touch, but he still couldn’t open his eyes.

You sighed and sat up a bit, so you could cup his face with both hands. You rubbed your thumbs across his skin. “Look at me, Levi.”

Obediently, Levi opened his eyes, but it was still difficult for him. He turned his face away, like he was trying to only see you in his periphery. You turned him back to face you.

"Whatever you think about yourself doesn't matter," you said. "I want to see all of you. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Something seemed to shine in Levi’s eyes. Not tears, but a confidence you knew he often didn't feel. And then he was in demon form, confirming that your words had boosted him enough to feel comfortable granting your request.

You watched as the complex horns emerged and the black and indigo coloring splayed across his neck and shoulder. You could feel the tail wrap around your waist. You shifted slightly so the scales rubbed gently across your skin.

You traced your fingertips across the pattern on his neck and the way he whined in response filled you with satisfaction. You leaned back down to press kisses along where your fingers had touched, enjoying the way he began to squirm beneath you.

You rolled your hips, grinding yourself down on his erection, making him cry out.

“A-ah!” Levi’s fingers were suddenly digging into your arms, a sensation you found you liked. His tail tightened around your waist. “MC! Please!”

You smirked and looked down at him. “Please what?”

But Levi couldn’t say it. You knew he would be too embarrassed to. He squeezed his eyes shut again, pressing his lips together and shaking his head.

You laughed a little because his reaction was so cute. You ran your hands through his hair, letting them slide gently up his horns, enjoying the way he shuddered in response. Then you kissed him, running your tongue along those tightly clamped lips in an attempt to get him to relax. It worked. He opened his mouth for you, letting out a little gasp as your tongue slipped inside.

Your kiss became sloppy fast, your hips occasionally rolling languidly downward. Every time you did this, the tail around your waist twitched and tightened just a little.

You pulled away to look down at him again and while his expression was a little more open, the anxiety was still clearly written there.

You pressed kisses across his face, pausing by his ear to whisper, “You’re safe with me. It’s okay to let go a little.”

It was like you had unlocked a secret level. Levi’s hands moved from your arms to your hips and he bucked up into you, letting out a whine that was so needy you couldn’t help but smile.

You rearranged yourself a bit, then sat snugly on his cock. You went slowly, inching down bit by bit so you could hear his noises.

As you went, Levi’s tail wrapped even more circles around you until the tip was brushing against your cheek. You smiled as it edged along your lips then opened your mouth to let it inside.

As soon as the tip of Levi’s tail was inside your mouth, you clamped your lips closed and sucked. You were rewarded by the sight of Levi’s eyes rolling back into his head as he moaned and bucked beneath you.

You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest as you moved your hips, setting a decent pace. Every time his cock was fully inside you, it sent spikes of pleasure through your gut. You moaned around his tail, but didn’t let it out of your mouth. Your tongue was too busy exploring the unusual feeling of his scales.

Levi was a mess beneath you, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you knew there’d be marks later. He couldn’t stop himself from meeting your movements and the lower part of his tail that was wrapped around you seemed to be moving you, too. You found you barely had to do any of the work yourself. You still maintained the pace and position, though, and Levi seemed to be content to let you.

Your heavy breathing filled the room along with the sound of skin smacking against skin and Levi’s soft whines. You decided you wanted to hear a little more, reaching out to pinch one of his nipples.

Levi cried out and you laughed softly around the tail in your mouth. Levi pulled his tail out as it squeezed around you even more. It was almost painful but not quite. You knew he didn’t even realize what he was doing and that made it all the more enjoyable.

“Sorry,” you said between heaving panting now that your mouth was free. “Did that hurt?”

Levi whined. “D-do it again-“

He didn’t have to ask twice. But you decided this time it would be more satisfactory to use your teeth. The tail around you slackened just a bit as you moved your body forward and bit down on the sensitive skin.

Levi was squirming hard beneath you now and you knew it was only a matter of time before he came. You increased your pace, letting your arms rest on his shoulders, pulling him into your body as you focused on your movement.

Everything around you tightened - Levi’s tail, his hands, even his eyes squeezing shut - as he came inside of you.

Levi cried out your name so beautifully as his tail went limp, falling into a heap around you.

Levi kept his eyes closed tight as your pace slackened. You were about to stop when you felt the tip of his tail, still wet from your mouth, finding its way between your legs, just barely touching your most sensitive spot.

It was so unexpected, you gasped.

Levi peeked at you, opening one eye just enough to register the look of surprise on your face. “D-don’t stop,” he said. And his hands gripped your hips hard again, keeping you moving.

“But-!” you protested. “How are you still-?”

The blush that alighted on Levi’s face made you smile. You were about to ask him how he was still hard after he came only seconds ago. There was something going on there, but you felt too good in that moment to pursue it further.

The tail between your legs seemed to have a mind of its own. It was only moments before you weren’t able to form full sentences anyway. You barely registered the look of adorable determination on Levi’s face before you felt that tightening in your gut.

You ended up leaving light scratch marks across his chest as you came, his tail continuing its ministrations as you rode out your orgasm.

You drew in some heavy breaths as you collapsed against Levi, letting your head settle in the crook of his neck. His arms moved to wrap around you, hugging you close to him, and his tail did the same, but not too tightly.

“You’re still hard,” you said, pressing light kisses to his neck.

Levi groaned. “Asmo gave me this potion…”

You laughed softly against his skin. “Oh, was it more potent than you thought it’d be?”

“D-don’t laugh, MC!” he said even as his grip on you tightened.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Do you want me to help you out?”

Levi was quiet for a long time before he finally said. “A-actually, if you could just… stay like this…”

You were more than content to stay in Levi’s arms and cockwarm him all night if that’s what he wanted. You both fell asleep soon enough, though it would take some time for the potion to fade.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[stunie]

zevie I have a thought! since kiryu canonically is a gamer, imagine him with a gf who isn't really into videogames but loves otome games! I think it'd be so cute and just imagine his reaction to showing him the game and talking about her faves. and then they's spend time together while kiryu plays his videogames and she's next to him playing on her phone lol this has been in my head for weeks!! i had to tell someone!!

nonnie i love ur thought !! this is so cute please >: it would be so fun to play next to him !! i wrote something a teeeeny bit different but it’s still similar :>

kiryu mitsuki x f!reader! sfw.

“ah,” you don’t pause your game even when you feel the couch dip under kiryu’s weight, eyes briefly flickering between him and your screen as he nestles right beside you, “hi there, ‘suki.”

he gives you a cheerful hum in response, arm snaking around your waist to pull you gently into his side, and his lips curl into a little smile as soon as you lean into him, both hands still busy clicking away at your game.

“soo?” he starts planting small kisses along the top of your head, “what are you up to, princess?”

his voice comes out as soft as always, arms wrapped loosely around your middle as he rests his chin on your head, peeking at the game you’ve been preoccupied with all day. not that he minds, of course. the two of you have been spending your off days like this lately, legs tangled in each other’s as you both play your own games, occasionally pausing for a couple minutes to sneak in some kisses.

but today he wants to watch.

“…just this,” you mumble, “and did you know? i’m almost at the part where my fav kisses me.”’

“oh?” his tone is curious, not a trace of jealousy or anger behind it, but it still makes your breath hitch in your throat. “so you’ve been getting kisses this whole time, haven’t you?”

“mhm. but this one,” you hold up your game for him to see it better, “is my favorite.”

it’s a character he’s seen all too many times. kiryu remembers each one you’ve gushed to him about— knows them by name as well as all the info listed on their character pages.

he could even recite them to you if you asked.

“well aren’t you a lucky girl,” he coos, arms tightening around your waist as he holds you flush against his chest, “but that’s no fair. my kiss comes next, okay?”

[sukuna-dees-nuts]

@nessieartss i did it again lol

based on this ask and this ask because i couldn't get "rizzless sukuna" out of my head 😭 (and also Maki being one of Sukuna's friends is relevant which is why i tagged that ask)

anyway, please enjoy!!

Edit: part 2!!

---

Sukuna can’t keep the scowl off his face as he watches Yuuji from across the courtyard. He watches as his little brother effortlessly jokes with his friends, his face and movements animated enough that they’re clear even from so far away. Yuuji has always been the more charismatic of the two brothers; always the one to make friends first. 

Yuuji throws his head back in laughter, casually throwing his arm around Megumi’s shoulders. Sukuna feels a twinge of jealousy in his gut and he can’t stop the grunt that escapes his throat. 

How ridiculous is he? Getting jealous over nothing. It’s laughable. Sukuna doesn’t get jealous! 

Except… the more he watches his little brother interact with Megumi, the more he finds himself wishing that he could hang out with Megumi—

“Oh fuck me,” he groans, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” 

Sukuna looks up. Maki takes a seat next to him on the steps, a meticulous brow arched in intrigue. He’s quiet for a moment as he rests his elbows on his knees. While he considers Maki to be one of his closest (and one of his only) friends, Sukuna briefly contemplates brushing his inner turmoil aside. This is her cousin, after all. Would she really want to hear about Sukuna’s stupid crush that he barely acknowledges himself?

Ah, fuck it, he thinks and sits up straighter. 

“How do you ask someone out?”

Maki blinks, taken aback by the question. She holds Sukuna’s gaze as if trying to gauge whether or not he’s being serious. Her mouth presses into a thin line.

“Depends on who you’re wanting to ask out,” she responds with a casual shrug. As she reaches up to fix her ponytail, she asks, “Are you saying that you’ve never asked anyone out before?”

Sukuna sniffs and says nothing, running his tongue over his teeth. His attention turns to his nails, examining them for any chips in the nail polish.

“It’s never been relevant before,” Sukuna grumbles. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Maki shift. She nods slowly with a hum of acknowledgement. 

“So, who is it?” Maki asks.

“Huh?” 

“The person you want to ask out, who is it?” she asks again.

This time, Sukuna hesitates to answer. He’s never been one to be ashamed of his preferences; he always makes his thoughts clear whether it shows on his face or in his words. Like the time when Sukuna argued that the Star Wars franchise was “extremely overrated” and Yuuji nearly had a heart attack (he still hasn’t let it go).

Finally, with a sigh, Sukuna answers in another grumble, “Fushiguro.”

The silence that stretches out between them is loud. Sukuna thinks for a moment that Maki might have gotten up and left. When he looks to the side, he finds that she’s still sitting there, staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face. He fully expects her to start laughing at him, but, she doesn’t. 

Maki continues staring at Sukuna until he narrows his eyes at her, opening his mouth to tell her to just forget about it and fuck off—

“Oh, you’re actually serious,” she huffs. “For a moment I thought you were pulling my leg.”

Sukuna feels his irritation ebb and he rolls his eyes. “Why the hell would I make a joke like that? There are other things I could use to bully you with. Like your stupid glasses. They don’t fit your face.”

Ignoring the comment, Maki goes on, “Fushiguro isn’t one for extravagance. If you really want to ask him out, you should pull him off to the side and ask him privately. He’d appreciate that.” The bell rings, signaling that it’s time for the next class. Maki and Sukuna get to their feet. 

“Also, it would do you well to work on your tactfulness,” the girl adds over her shoulder as she begins to walk away.

Sukuna flips her off. “Fuck you. I’m not asking you for advice anymore.”

He watches as his friend heads back inside before turning his attention back to Megumi who is walking in the opposite direction of his two friends. Sukuna runs a hand through his hair, exhaling a long breath. 

It’s another few seconds of watching Megumi walk before Sukuna’s feet start moving, carrying him in the same direction and he mentally curses at himself again.

Fuck it. Let’s do this.

[embarrasingmf]

Hey! this is from that post where you need something to write about lol Maybe something about Dean comforting reader about something? Maybe it's based on trauma or something that happened on the hunt that got them so shaken up?

silver springs

PAIRING: Dean Winchester x reader

SUMMARY: dean comforts you after you have another night terror.

WORD COUNT: 669.

A/N: I LOVE THIS IDEA SM, TY😭😭 also i js created the title on a whim bc i was listening to Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac on repeat the whole time while writing this (can you tell I’m not that creative lol..)

One thing Dean had recently noticed about you is that you tended to wake up in a cold sweat from nightmares.

He’d always comfort you as best as you could, but he could shake away the curiosity of what those night terrors were about.

To be frank, he always asked if you wanted to talk about it, but you’d always decline. Dean didn’t push anything, for your sake of things.

—————————————————————————

Dean was wide awake this night, and he could hear you tossing and turning in the nearby motel bed.

He briefly glanced over his shoulder and at your trembling form, preparing himself for when you eventually woke up.

A few minutes after, you shot up with a sharp gasp, a cold sweat engulfing you, and tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

Dean got up almost immediately, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed near you.

“Hey, hey..” He whispered, gently placing a hand on your knee and rubbing his thumb over the inside of the joint.

You slowly looked over at him with wide, almost wild eyes.

“You’re okay, you’re safe here.” He assured quietly, giving your knee a comforting squeeze.

Once Dean saw you take a small breath, he knew you were slowly calming down. Which was a good sign, obviously.

He inhaled through his teeth as he asked the same question he asked every time you had one of these. “You wanna talk about it?”

He fully expected you to say no, to say you were fine and go back to sleep for the night. But surprisingly, you nodded your head wordlessly.

Dean shifted on the bed so he was fully sitting next to you, tugging you closer to him.

You let your head fall to his shoulder, taking a deep breath before you spoke.

“It was about a Wendigo hunt…” You said quietly, but just loud enough that you could hear yourself.

“Yeah..?” Dean nodded, looking down at you as he waited for you to continue expectantly.

You could feel his eyes on you, and you sniffled for a quick second.

“Yeah. It, uh, it ruined my hearing a bit. And it almost killed me.” You explained, shifting against Dean’s side.

Ah, so that’s how you’re hearing was messed up. Dean knew that your hearing wasn’t the best, he and Sam always had to speak in normal volumes around you.

They could never whisper or mumble anything, you wouldn’t be able to hear them and always had to ask them to repeat themselves.

The brothers had both asked why your hearing was like that, because they didn’t really think it was all that natural for someone to hear but not hear that well.

Every time, your response would be something along the lines of, “It happened during a hunt…”

But you never explained it any further. You just left it to their imaginations. Sam’s curiosity died faster than Dean’s did.

Dean’s curiosity on the matter never went away.

“A Wendigo hunt?” He murmured in question before shaking his head and repeating the question in a louder tone for you.

He heard you chuckle quietly and he felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips.

“Mhm.” You nodded, clearing your throat before continuing. “It came at me, I was able to dodge just it time for it to hit a vital area, but it still clipped my ear.”

Dean let out a soft hum of acknowledgment, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You eagerly sought his comfort and warmth that came with being in his presence on nights like these.

“Maybe you should get back to sleep, we have a hunt in the morning.” Dean chuckled, squeezing your shoulder.

You sighed, letting out a small yawn now that you realized how exhausted you still were.

“Yeah, I should probably do that.” You agreed, “You should go to sleep too,”

Dean tapped his chin thoughtfully, before looking back down at you.

“Okay, yeah, I think i’ll go to sleep too..”

—————————————————————————

reblogs r appreciated !

[megamindsecretlair]

I would love a stunna cabin getaway mixed with some bdsm please babe

A/N: So um, I kinda ran away this, lol

It's Written in the Stars

Pairing: Soft Dom!Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. FLUFF. Angst if you squint. Cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving), fingering (fem receiving) teasing, cum play, size kink, dirty talk, praise/degradation kink, bondage, all consensual. D/s lite. Mentions of fertility issues, guilt, negative self talk (please seek help)

Summary: See Ask. While you were going through fertility issues, you were being hard on yourself. Hating to see you like this, Stunna prepares a beautiful weekend away so that you can unwind and refocus on each other. You get a little more than you bargained for.

Word Count: 9,646k

AO3 Link

A/N: I had been wanting to get this out before the heat went away fro the winter time. Ah well LOL. Whew. Idk where all this came from. My hormones all over this place, chilleee. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Your husband hated you. Surely, he did. You watched his goofy ass skip to the front door to lock it, whistling all the while. He wore a burgundy shirt stretched tight over his muscles and black jeans that hugged his ass just right.

He was lucky he was so fine. More than fine, your husband made your toes curl every single day. Just with a single look. Every day felt like never enough when it came to him. You sighed, looking away briefly before you started crying.

You were starting to get those kind of looks. The pitiful, poor thing type of looks that made you feel crazy when you weren’t. Stunna did so much for you, every day. The least you could do, the very least was to give him a baby. A cute little son that just looked like him so that he could break the cycle. Raise a Black boy in love and happiness.

And you couldn’t even do that right. The past few months as you both began trying in earnest, you started to hate the tests. The waiting was the worst part. Like you were both hopeful and trying to prepare for the worst news. And as soon as it turned negative, you both sighed and he would comfort you.

But god, you felt like a failure. You succeeded everywhere else in life. Going to school, landing a good job, and having good friends. Why couldn’t you excel at this too? 

“Get that frown off your face, beautiful,” Stunna said, climbing into the rental truck. He closed the door and then grabbed your left hand. He brought it to his lips and then looked at you. 

“This weekend is about rest. We’ve been caught up on the results and not the action. We forgot that it’s us underneath all this, right?” He asked. 

You mumbled your affirmation, not brave enough to meet his eyes. He put on such a good front for you. But you knew he was just as disappointed. You spent plenty of nights dreaming of your future kids. Wondering what kind of personality they would have, what kind of hobbies they would develop. 

You had silly arguments about hypothetical situations your kids would get into. Or if they would favor one parent over the other. You even went to bed giggling, pretending to call your child’s full government name. You cuddled in the morning and praised one another about what a good parent the other would make. 

“Look at me, baby,” Stunna said. When you didn’t move fast enough for him, he grabbed your chin and turned your head to look at him. 

“I love you just as much as the first time I laid eyes on you,” he said.

“Boy, stop,” you said, lips twisting to fight off a smile. 

Stunna kissed your hand and then took a big bite. It didn’t sting, it only made your stomach do silly flips. You were unnaturally horny. You hadn’t taken drugs through this whole thing, wanting to do it the good old fashioned way like everyone else. But you were approaching ovulation and fuck if you weren’t hot and bothered by the smallest thing.

It didn’t help that nearly everything out of this man’s mouth was either sweet or nasty. No inbetween. 

“We’re going to relax this weekend, okay? Promise?” He asked.

You nodded, a little more convinced. You were allowed one weekend to rest. One weekend to sit and unwind and not have a care or worry in the world. You were allowed that at least. You leaned back in the seat while Stunna started the car. He backed out of your driveway  and headed up the street, leaving the familiar houses behind and then merging onto the freeway.

He drove from late afternoon into the evening, driving further west. He said he found a near-ish Air B&B that was perfect for “what he had planned”. What he could possibly plan between earlier this month when he told you about the trip to now, was beyond you and you didn’t want to make yourself sick thinking about it. 

Night time made the city outside light up so prettily in golds and softest whites. The street lamps overhead passed by, temporarily illuminating the car’s interior. You held onto Stunna’s hand as he drove or sometimes he let it drift to your thigh. 

You talked, you laughed, you pretended like you were back in college when you first met. You pretended that you were just a girl in the quad and he was the boy that almost hit you with a football. 

He teased you that day, drawing your ire so that he could disarm you with something so sweet and devastating, you were agreeing to have dinner with him before your mind could catch up. 

You were the car’s DJ and kept Stunna awake with stories about work or your friends, or updates on the craziest member of your family. He told you about his usual days, dealing with the people who work for him.

By the time eight at night rolled around, Stunna pulled onto a long, winding street that was so dark, the headlights only caught five feet in front of you. It had turned mountainous, with curving, man made roads. There were only a handful of guard rails around steep turns but the road was pretty open.

“Where did you book us?” You asked, looking outside of the window. 

“I know, it looks scary as shit. But I promise it’s not bad,” he said. 

You gripped onto his hand anyway, looking out of the window for any glimpse of the world. Any sign of life. There was just the feeling of woods on either side. The road turned to light gravel as Stunna traveled further down the path. The headlights flashed over a mailbox and then Stunna turned left, pulling into a driveway.

The cabin itself was too cute for words. Looked like it was built out of actual logs, with a huge porch and dark fixtures around the foundation and windows. Outside of the house, there was plenty of room to park a few cars or make one good turn and then exit. 

“Oh, this is beautiful,” you said. The moon overhead gave it a soft glow that was straight out of a puzzle box. Stunna cut the engine and then got out of the car. He walked around to your side and opened the door for you, taking your hand and helping you out of it.

“There’s no other neighbors for a few miles in any direction. There’s a police and fire station nearby in case anything pops off. We can unwind here,” he said. He wrapped his hands around your waist and kissed you. His full lips lingered, kissing you without abandon, lighting that familiar fire between your legs. He ended the kiss with one final swipe of his tongue across your lips. He smiled at you and then walked with you up the stairs. 

He unlocked the front door and then turned on the nearest light. The inside was just as cute. There were handmade blankets on the thick leather couches. The rug in the living room was thick and plush with a digital fireplace. 

“Oh this is gorgeous,” you said.

Stunna chuckled. “Yeah, took a lot of research to find one that suits my plans,” he said. He kissed your cheek. 

“You keep mentioning these plans, should I be nervous?” You asked, giggling to yourself. 

“Yes, you should be,”Stunna said, giving you a wink and a sexy smile before going outside. You walked further into the house, taking in the layout. It opened directly into the living room and stairs faced you, a second floor revealed up top. 

Behind the living room, there was a roomy kitchen with nice, almost new appliances. Must be nice to be able to afford that stuff for a rental property. You had brought groceries with you and you were never more grateful that Stunna’s favorite hobby was cooking.

You were treated to all kinds of delicious food, willingly becoming his guinea pig when he wanted to try out something. Your back would never not be big. You liked to cook, but the chore of it bored you to tears. Hours of work to eat it in minutes and spend forever trying to clean up. Spare you, please. 

Stunna made plenty of noise coming into the house with your suitcases and bags. He also had a mysterious third bag with him that he told you was off limits. Naturally, it only made you more curious to know what was inside. You supposed you’d have to be good and wait. 

Stunna brought the luggage upstairs and you followed lazily behind, searching the other rooms to find a home office, two bathrooms, and two bedrooms. Stunna set the luggage down in the master’s room, lots of space and it smelled clean. 

The bed was made up with a modest blue comforter and a gray throw blanket thrown across the bottom. The walls were a gentle yellow with different pieces of art on the walls. 

There was an ottoman at the foot of the bed that Stunna set your suitcase and bag on. He rolled his to his side of the bed and came back around the bed. He grabbed your face and pulled you into a big, wet kiss that curled your toes in your shoes. 

“Sit your sexy ass down and I’ll lock up. Then, we relax,” he said. 

You shook your head and threw your hands up. Stunna said that he wanted you to relax this weekend and not lift a finger. You wanted to argue the point but he brought out his Dom voice and you folded like origami. 

“Yes, Sir,” you said. You made a show of walking over to the bed and then turning around to sit. You lowered your ass to the bed, watching Stunna’s smile spread across his face. He sighed and shook his head.

“Gonna hurt me, girl,” he said. 

He left the room and made quick work of locking up the car and then checking all of the locks to the house. You heard him humming as he moved around, the sound going in and out as he moved about. 

He returned in no time, carrying two hangers with plush robes on them. “Stunna! What is this?” You asked. 

“We had a long ass day and deserve to get pampered on. Run us a bath and I’ll get some snacks and wine going,” he said.

“You are too much, you know that? You really planned this whole weekend?”

Stunna crossed the room and then laid the robe down on the bed. He pulled you to a standing position, putting his hands around your waist. You brought your hands around his neck, kissing his nose as he looked down at you. 

“I have one job this weekend. That job is to get you nice and relaxed. To make you feel good. Loosen up that sexy body so I can plant a baby in there,” he said. 

“Oh,” you gasped, eyes snapping to his. 

His dark eyes glowed with mischief with a cheeky smile spreading across his face. He leaned down and kissed you, turning it from something sweet to something hot. He tugged on your bottom lip before smoothing the pain away with a lick of his tongue. 

“It’s not your fault I’m barren,” you said, sulking. You tried to pry yourself away from him but he held onto your waist.

“Baby, I’m not doing my job if you think I’m not proud of you or in love with you throughout this whole thing. You’re not barren, we’re just sucking the fun out of it. And that includes me,” he said. 

You opened your mouth to argue with him but he beat you to it with a kiss to your lips. You giggled and he smiled. “We can play the blame game all night. Or, we can get this night started. I promise you’ll like the second option better,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes and smiled, unable to resist this time. “Second option it is,” you said. If the goal was to relax, then you were going to help him achieve it by listening and accepting some damn comfort for once. 

This time was stressful, made more stressful by the fact that you have something tangible telling you no. Some stupid ass stick crushing your dreams over and over again. You were going to cry it out and then thug it out. 

“That’s my girl. Get that bath running how we like,” he said. 

He released your waist and then tapped your ass. You jumped and covered your butt, turning back to look at his wide grin. He gestured for you to keep going so you did, heading into one of the available bathrooms. 

Stunna passed you in the hallway, going to a cabinet to dig out towels for the both of you. You turned on the light in the bathroom, taking in all of the details. The walls were covered in white subway tile halfway up the wall, the rest was covered in a deep rose color. The floor was tile as well, cold to the touch but there were a lot of rugs to cover your feet with. 

You looked into the tub to find it pristine. Whoever cleaned in between uses was phenomenal. You’d have to check for a card or something later. You fiddled with the knobs, turning on the hot water and finding the stopper. 

While the water ran, you grabbed your favorite neutral body soap and poured it into the bathwater to get it nice and soapy. 

Stunna came in and out of the bathroom to check the progress. He brought your two robes into the bathroom and hung it up on the inside of the door. He brought you a glass of wine and kissed your head upon delivery. 

“Here you are,” he said with a fake British accent, presenting the glass as if it were brought especially for you. You giggled when you took it, taking a sip and letting the wine travel down your system and instantly warm you up from the inside out. 

The water was nearly finished so you turned it off and then got the shower going. You took off your clothes, kicking them to one side of the bathroom. You wrapped your hair into a bonnet, then placed a shower cap on top.

You scrubbed excess dirt and grime from the day and from the car ride, lathering up every inch of your skin. You rinsed off and then got out of the shower just as Stunna brought in a dinner tray with a charcuterie board on top of it. 

You dried your hands and instantly went for the salami and a piece of cracker. You moaned at the simple taste, chasing it down with a sip of wine. Cool air hit your naked skin so you shivered and then hopped in the bath. 

Stunna positioned the tray next to the tub, within easy reach of anyone sitting in it. He pressed a button on a hidden remote that he conjured from nowhere. Sexy, grown music filtered in from hidden speakers in the room. You gasped and looked around, hearing the music like an echo in other rooms. Stunna grinned, pleased as punch, and then he gave you a strip tease. 

“Whew, go baby. Go baby!” You chanted, miming throwing money at him. He danced his way through taking off his shirt and pants. Next went his underwear, freeing his long, thick dick. You licked your lips at it, watching it bob up and down with his dancing. He turned around and started twerking, mimicking what you do to him. You laughed so hard that your sides hurt.

He hopped in the shower next, washing off his own dirt and grime. You went for a grape on the tray, settling back into the tub with a loud sigh. Stunna turned the shower off, shaking out the excess water and then slunk into the tub with you.

He jostled the water and fresh warmth enveloped you. If you weren’t careful, you were going to fall asleep against his chest. 

“You feeling good?” Stunna asked. 

In this position, you felt the rumble in his chest from his deep voice. And he placed his mouth near your ear so you had a wonderful echoing effect going on that made your pussy clench with need. 

Every time with him felt like the first time. Back in college once more, heavy makeout sessions leading to something more desperate as he climbed on top of you and begged to make you feel good. And god, did he. And had been doing so ever since then. As often as you wanted it or needed it. 

Stunna ran his hands all over your wet skin, playing with the soap bubbles around your limbs. You followed with your own hands, tangling your fingers together whenever you connected. He palmed your breasts, rubbing soap between your nipples and his fingers. You gasped and writhed underneath his touch but he only cooed at you to remain still. 

“Baby, you have to know that sometimes it takes longer than others. And that’s okay. It doesn’t mean that anything is broken,” he said.

“It feels like that. I’ve been good at everything else,” you said. You placed your fingers on top of his, moaning slightly when your nipples sent a twinge of pleasure to your pussy. Stunna dried his hands on the hand towel that sat on the lid of the tub and then grabbed a few grapes, passing some to you and eating a few of his own.

He chewed and brought his fingers back to your skin. His hands lowered to your belly. For no reason at all, or perhaps for every reason, your eyes welled with unshed tears. 

“There’s no right or wrong way to do this,” he whispered in your ear. 

“I just want to make you happy,” you said, settling against his chest. He kissed your temple, plucking at your nipple.

“Ouuue, shit,” you hissed. 

“You make me so happy my chest feels like it’s going to burst from my chest. You already make me happy and no kid is going to accelerate that or change that. If we do have kids, great. If we don’t, that’s great too. You are the love of my life. I just want you safe and happy,” he said. 

You sighed. You wished you could see his face. See how he really felt. Stunna had never minced his words when it came to your relationship. You knew every deep and dirty thing he’d ever done to become the man he is today.

But he also turned his life around when he got with you. He cleaned up his act, got a steady job, and put in the hours to give you a life you deserved. You told him that you were good with just him but he promised to work hard. He started his own consulting company, having a great mind for business. Now he got paid to tell companies how to do better. 

So you chose to believe his words. “You’re going to make a fantastic father, Stunna,” you said. You went to bed at night with daydreams about Stunna playing catch with his son, or taking his daughter out for little dates so she wasn’t impressed by a lame guy trying to court her. 

It was all so vivid, so right, so real that reality and fantasy started to blur. You wanted the white picket fence, Stunna barbequing, while you ran around the backyard with your kids. Playing, roughhousing, or getting into water balloon fights. 

“I want you happy too. Can you honestly say that you’re not disappointed that we’re not pregnant yet?” You asked. You sat up and turned in the tub to face him.

Stunna grabbed your chin and then pulled you into a sweet kiss. “I’m disappointed at the results. Not that you can’t deliver. It’ll happen when it’s time. For now, we just have to enjoy the journey there,” he said.

He kissed you once more and then grabbed your shoulders to turn you around. You listened to the music and the cadence of Stunna’s voice as he talked. He massaged your shoulders, your arms. He kneaded your breasts, back to playing with the nipple and getting you so riled up that you were causing a wave in the water with how badly you were grinding into Stunna.

His dick sat heavy behind you, poking the top of your ass. You placed your hands on his thighs to scoot up since you had drifted too far down. Stunna hissed and then groaned, placing his hands on your shoulders to still your movements.

“I’m trying to be good,” he said. 

“But why?” You asked, shaking your ass on him. Stunna groaned and then choked on a laugh. 

“Because I have plans,” he said.

Your pussy throbbed, picturing what dirty fantasies he had conjured up for this trip. You figured that you’d have some lazy sex, try some tricks to get his cum to swim upstream, and then you’d wait for the hopeful sign on the stick. 

Stunna was having none of that. He was weaving an entire filthy weekend just for you. It made you want to cry. But instead, you moaned and arched your back against him. “Sounds like we need to get started,” you said.

Stunna chuckled. “You’re on my time,” he said. His voice turned deeper and more serious. You moved your head to the side so that you could look at him. 

He grinned and kissed your cheeks, leaving a series of kisses that made you squeal with laughter. 

You continued to bask in the tub, refilling it with hot water when the water grew too tepid. You ate most of the board, filling up on crackers, cheese, grapes and little slices of meat. The wine paired perfectly. 

Stunna got out of the tub first and then helped you out of it. He moaned in appreciation, watching the suds slip down your body. You watched him just as much, the slide of bubbles in all the right places. 

He grabbed a towel and then wrapped you up in it, drying you off. You sighed and closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of his big, strong hands working their way across your body. He knelt down to get your legs too, following your dry legs with bites or kisses or licks. 

You giggled as he found ticklish spots on you. He teased you anyway until you were screaming for him to stop. Fully dry, it was your turn to dry him off. You took your time, starting with his back and drying off his well-rounded ass. You crossed to the front and dried off his chest, working lower and lower, and taking extra care with his dick.

Even at rest he was thick and beautiful. You stroked him and his eyes fluttered shut, a grin on his face. “I’m gon’ get you back for this,” he said.

“No clue what you’re talking about,” you said. You grinned and then traveled further down, drying off his legs. You looked up at him from on your knees and Stunna smirked at you. “So pretty on your knees, baby.”

Your brain turned to mush as his words registered. “You nasty,” you said, unable to form a single coherent thought to flirt back. Stunna helped you to your hands and then took one of the robes and helped you into it. 

He turned you around, tying the robe across your front. “Comfortable?” He asked.

“Very. Thank you,” you said, leaning up to kiss him. He hummed and then grabbed his own robe. He unplugged the tub and the drain groaned as the water went down. He brought the tray and his wine glass to the kitchen. You followed behind with your own glass. 

The music was still going, playing “P.O.V.” by DVSN. You swayed to the music. Stunna refilled both of your glasses. Then he went into the living room with you. He let you take a sip of your wine, the sweet red loosening you up completely. 

Worries slipped from your mind. You lowered your defenses, living in the present. Stunna took your cup and placed it on the wooden coffee table. He grabbed your hands and then pulled you in front of the fireplace.

Heat blew out from it, warming up your legs. You moaned at the sensation. Stunna pulled you into a dance, wrapping his hand around your waist and then holding up your other hand. He swayed you to the music, staring deep into your eyes.

“I love you so much,” you told him. This was exactly what you needed. A moment in time to unwind, de-stress, and focus on you. Focus on your love for your man. 

“I love you. So, so much,” he said. He kissed your forehead and continued to spin you around in circles, each track he put on more nasty than the last. 

It was rare when your body felt at rest. When nothing hurt, nothing affected you, or irritated you. When you truly felt relaxed. Sure, you laid down. Sure, you had your hobbies or watched TV, but your mind still raced. Running faster than the Energizer bunny hopped up on speed and coffee. 

It was no wonder why you were always so damn tired. Your mind rarely gave you a night off. Stunna helped you achieve that tonight. That single perfect feeling of being at rest. Just feeling. Being. Wrapped up in his arms and letting go of the weight of your problems. 

“Hmm, feeling good, baby?” Stunna asked, hugging you closer. 

“Yes, baby,” you said, snuggling further into his chest. He could always sense your moods. You didn’t want to burden him with the darker thoughts. The creeping, intrusive thoughts that screamed that you were being punished for whatever crime you could think of. That you couldn’t get pregnant because you didn’t live a good life. You didn’t always smile and wave at people or you didn’t always keep elevator doors open for people. You were more introverted, genuinely sitting and judging people while you sat in your corner and dreamed of being anywhere else. You’ve made people cry and didn’t feel an ounce of regret for your words. 

Stunna pulled back to look at you. You smiled sweetly at him, turning your thoughts away from your failures and focused on him. Always on him. Always. He made everything better. He brought you peace in a way that was indescribable. 

Stunna smiled as if he could hear every thought you had about him. He kissed you and you hummed. You pulled away with a yawn and Stunna laughed, shaking his head while he kept dancing with you. 

“We better take this to the bedroom while I can still think,” you said and smiled at him. All this pampering made you beyond sleepy. Heavy. 

“No sex tonight, babe,” he said. 

He continued dancing, twirling you around the room to the mournful crooning of “Die For You” by The Weeknd. You tilted your head and blinked at him. Surely he didn’t mean that. Stunna turned to you and chuckled. He kissed your cheek.

“Tonight, we’re resting,” he said.

“But…dick is resting,” you said. 

Stunna chuckled again and shook his head. “It is not. C’mon baby, trust me. Who takes care of you?” He asked and kissed your cheek.

You sighed heavily and rolled your eyes to the ceiling. “You do,” you said.

“Who takes care of you?” He asked again and kissed your other cheek. 

Your lips pinched as you fought your smile. “You do,” you said when you could trust that you wouldn’t laugh. 

“Alright then. We getting some rest tonight, we gonna have a delicious breakfast, and I’m going to take care of everything,” he said.

“Yes, baby,” you said.

“Mhm, it’s ‘yes, Sir’,” Stunna said, his voice adopting your favorite tone. His Dom voice. Whew. It was like a direct line to your pussy. You immediately started throbbing, biting your lip instinctively. 

“Sir?” You asked, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. 

“You heard me. Now get that look off your face, I said no sex tonight.” He tapped your nose, belying his serious tone. But he already got the engine going. You rubbed yourself against him. You hummed as you did so, admiring the feel of his body hidden beneath his robe. 

“I promise you’ll enjoy this weekend more if you listen,” he said. He raised an eyebrow at you, his jaw flexing with his ‘serious’ face. You grinned and ignored him, turning in his arms and rubbing your ass on his crotch.

He hissed and his hand came to press down on your back. The music switched to something more upbeat, “679” by Fetty Wap bringing out your inner whore. He couldn’t put something like that on without expecting you to shake it on him. He knew what trap songs did to you. 

He began to dance on you back, pushing his growing bulge into your ass. You danced for the entire song, showing out for him. You got your knees involved, not an easy thing these days, and danced on him like you were trying to get him to propose all over again. 

When the song ended, you fell into each other laughing. You coughed and then laughed again, out of breath from dancing and from laughing so hard. The next song slowed everything back down and Stunna pulled you into his arms.

“You gon’ pay for that in the morning,” he said.

“Oh, I’m so scared,” you said and stuck your tongue out at him. 

Stunna gasped and widened his eyes at you. Even you couldn’t mistake the glint of mischief in his eyes. As much as he liked your obedience, you knew he secretly loved your bratty ass. 

“C’mon Miss Big Bad, it’s time for bed,” he said.

“Booo, you’re no fun,” you said. 

Stunna laughed. He grabbed the remote from his robe pocket and switched off the music. You crossed your arms and cocked a hip for good measure. 

“It’s almost three am. Get in the bed,” he said. 

“It is?” You asked. You patted your robe for your phone but it wasn’t there. Did you leave it in the bathroom? You intended to hunt for it to check the time. Stunna stopped you with his hands on your shoulders. He flipped you around to see the digital clock on one of the end tables.

“Oh, damn,” you said. You yawned, confirming that it was well past your bedtime. “Sure I can’t convince you for some fun?” 

Stunna turned off the lights in the kitchen and living room, following behind your heavy footfalls down the hallway. “I’m sure. This is my weekend,” he said.

You giggled, growing delirious with sleepiness. You were at the point where you were yawning every two seconds, growing frustrated from doing it so often. Stunna steered you to the bedroom and helped you strip out of the warm robe. He took off his own and hung it in the closet. 

Stunna pulled the covers down and you scooted onto the bed. You sighed. What spell did he put on you? You were drained. You had absolutely nothing left when just a few minutes ago, you were shaking your ass harder than a stripper working off her debt. 

Stunna got into bed with you and then snuggled in close against your back. He was so damn warm. You moaned, stretching out against him, pushing your ass into his dick. Stunna wrapped his arm around your middle.

“Night, baby,” he said.

Your body melted against his, sweet lullaby of his breathing sending you off to la la land. Stunna nudged you. “Nha?” 

“Good night, baby,” he said. 

“Ni-” You yawned. 

Stunna nudged you again. You giggled. “Nighty night, Sir,” you said. 

Stunna chuckled. He kissed your cheek. “I just want you to remember that you brought this weekend on yourself,” he said. 

The threat would have worked if you heard it. You were already fast asleep, drifting into a dreamless wonderland.

After a shower to wake yourself up, you followed the heavenly aroma of Stunna’s cooking. You padded down the hallway in your robe. You found Stunna in the kitchen, humming to himself with a towel thrown over his shoulder. 

He wore his robe as well, taking a scoop of what he cooked and tasting it. He hummed in satisfaction and then sprinkled some more pepper on it. He turned to the doorway when he heard your knock on the counter. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said.

You smiled at him and sat on the barstool. Stunna brought the pan over to you so that you could see what was on the menu. He made a scramble of eggs, sausage, bell peppers, and onions. The smell alone made your mouth water. 

You moaned and smiled at him. “That smells so good,” you said.

“I’m glad. You’re going to need your strength today,” he said. 

You giggled and rolled your eyes. “Promises, promises,” you said. Stunna turned to look at you. He saw your evil smile and shook his head.

“Okay, just wait,” he said. 

You talked about nothing in particular, talked just to hear his voice, as you discussed your families, your work schedules. You discussed the latest books you both had read while you ate his delicious food. Each bite burst with flavor between all the different breakfast foods. Stunna should’ve opened a damn restaurant. 

Stunna made himself some coffee and then tea for you. You doctored it while you told him a story about your annoying coworker, only feeling slightly bad about mocking their exact tone of voice whenever they talked to you. 

When both of your drinks were to your respective tastes, Stunna took your hand and led you towards the back of the house. You hadn’t had a chance to explore out here yet. The hallway was in the same soft tones as the rest of the house and the short hallway behind the kitchen led out to a back porch. 

You gasped, taking in the view. “Oh. My. God,” you said, looking out at the expanse of the woods. The house sat on a hill, overlooking the top of the trees. Beyond it, you could see right down into the city. 

With the morning’s soft oranges and babiest blue, the view was like out of a painting. Birds chirped in the background, sounds of the woods waking up. Water ran somewhere in the distance. A woodpecker tested his beak against a tree. 

“This is…” you said.

“Amazing, I know,” he said and laughed. He led you to a nearby swinging bench. The wood was light colored, with white and blue striped cushions. You shrieked and looked at him. 

“There will be plenty of time to read out here, promise,” he said, reading your mind.

You sighed at him. “I don’t deserve you,” you said.

“Sure you do, baby. You make me wanna do better,” he said. 

“You already are,” you said. He sat down on the swinging bench first, putting his coffee on the wood stump beside it. It had been sanded and polished, providing a natural table to set your own cup down. 

Stunna pulled you to sit in his lap. When you looked at him, he just smiled innocently. You turned back around, suspicion clearly written all over your face. Stunna went for the tie at your waist, tugging on it.

“What are you doing?” You asked, covering the front of the robe with your hands.

“Move your hands,” he said, his voice turning darker. It was completely at odds with the early morning peace. 

You looked back at him. Stunna grabbed your legs and spread them over his own, widening your legs until you felt the pull in your thighs. You lowered your hands and Stunna untied your robe, pulling it open to reveal your entire body. 

You wanted to cover up, you were so exposed. Anyone could be lookin at you. You pictured some freak in the woods at this exact moment, peeking through his binoculars. Stunna moved his hands up and down your body, squeezing your breasts, your tummy, and then palming your mound.

You twitched with a moan, trying to close your legs. Stunna widened his stance, opening your legs wider for his searching fingers. He brought one hand up to your lips. “Suck,” he commanded.

Heat flashed over your skin. A tingle working its way down your spine. You opened your mouth and sucked on his middle two fingers. He fucked your mouth with his fingers, pushing it in and out, and hummed as he leaned to the side to watch you. You felt him throb beneath your ass and you moaned. 

It had been entirely too long since he dominated you so well. In all the mix of having sex, you forgot what it was like to tease. To flirt. To obey. You swirled your tongue around his fingers, eyeing him as you did so. You moaned once more on his fingers. 

“Hm, nasty ass. Get it nice and wet,” he said. 

You drooled on his fingers, growing wetter by the second. He continued to push his fingers inside. Your eyes drooped, watching him bite his lip. Watching his eyes turn darker. His jaw flex. All of it made it harder to breathe properly. 

Stunna pulled his fingers out and you whimpered, pouting at him. He used one hand to spread your pussy lips and then brought his wet fingers to your entrance, pushing in. You moaned, head falling back onto his shoulder. You gasped, your lip quivering. 

“Did sucking my fingers turn you on?” He asked.

You nodded, whimpering too much to answer him. Stunna chuckled. “Nasty fuckin’ slut,” he said, pushing his fingers in deeper.

“Fuu–,” you moaned, clenching around his fingers. You began to twitch and jerk on his body, alternating between gasping for air and moaning. Stunna didn’t give you an inch. He continued to finger fuck you, curling his fingers inside and making you cross your eyes.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck. I’m gonna, I’m gonna…” you moaned. 

Stunna stilled his fingers. You whimpered and gyrated on his fingers. Stunna kissed your ear and your jaw, pulling his fingers slowly out of you. You whimpered more as he dragged his wet fingers up to your clit.

You throbbed. You wanted to cum so badly, you were willing to do some unholy things for it. “Please,” you whispered. 

“Remember when you didn’t listen yesterday?” He asked. He kissed your cheek after his question and you stuttered with your next breath. 

“Aww, don’t punish me, Stunna,” you said. You gasped after you said his name, realizing your mistake. 

Stunna sighed and nudged his nose against your ear. He nibbled on the shell of your ear while he moved his fingers in giant circles, making your lower belly cramp with need. “See, I was gonna let you cum. But that mouth reckless,” he said.

“Wait–”

Stunna shushed you, moving his left hand under your leg and lifting. You were already spread open as far as you were able. Lifting it ensured that you didn’t move without his say-so. 

“The things I was gonna treat you to,” he said, and hummed. His dick throbbed beneath you and you whimpered. 

“I can be good–”

Stunna shushed you again, plunging his fingers back inside. His fingers stretched you, preparing you for what he was going to do next. He drove your orgasm to the peak, holding you open when you wanted nothing more than to trap his hand between your thighs. You rode his fingers, gasping for air.

“Needy little slut, too? Chase that shit since you want it so bad,” he said. You moaned, wrapping your arms behind his head. You scratched at the nape of his neck while he sent you into another atmosphere. 

“Oue, oue, oue!” You screamed, your belly tightening as your orgasm approached. Before you could cum, Stunna pulled his fingers out. “Nooooo!” 

Stunna pushed his fingers into your mouth. You tasted yourself on his fingers. You moaned, slurping yourself up. Stunna groaned and rolled his hips. You made sure to use your tongue, licking up every last drop. 

“I decide when you cum,” Stunna said and licked your neck. You moaned and closed your eyes. There were too many sensations. It was making you spaz out, jerking and twitching on his lap. 

You nodded. “Yes, Sir,” you said around his fingers. 

Stunna pulled his fingers out of your mouth. He wiped it on his robe and then pushed you to stand. He stood up as well and took off his robe. He quickly folded it and put it on the ground. He sat down on the swinging bench and beckoned you to step closer. 

His dick was gloriously thick and long, all the way down to the tip. You moaned, staring at the bead of pre-cum leaking out. Stunna grabbed the base of his dick and moaned, stroking his dick. 

“Knees. Open,” he groaned.

You dropped to your knees, kneeling on his robe. A slight breeze caressed your skin but the sun was starting to warm up. Stunna’s beautiful, rich dark skin glowed with the sun. It casted pretty shadows on his face as he looked down at you. 

You opened your mouth, waiting for him to give you the go ahead to take him. Stunna bit his lip, furrowing his eyebrows as he stroked himself faster. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy when you listen,” he said. 

You nestled between his legs, watching with rapt attention as he stroked himself in a loose grip. You whimpered when it seemed like he was just going to make you watch. You looked at him and he smirked. 

“Your needy ass want this dick huh?” He asked.

“Yes, Sir, I want it,” you said.

“You gonna swallow me down like a good slut?” He asked. Your pussy clenched painfully hearing him call you that. You nodded and Stunna groaned.

“Good. Take this dick,” he said. He planted his feet to still the swinging bench. You placed your hands on his dick, taking over stroking for him. 

You inhaled the deeply masculine scent of him. You kissed the tip of his dick and Stunna put his arms around the back of the bench. He adjusted in his seat and then watched you open your mouth and take him in. 

“Fuuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back. You giggled and then started to bob your head. You relaxed your jaw, getting into a nice rhythm. Stunna groaned and you looked at him, watched as his face went through all kinds of emotions. Too many for you to name. 

“Deeper, take me deeper. I know you can do it,” he encouraged.

You leaned up higher on your knees and then did as he said, took him deeper in your mouth. You took him fast and deep, the only sound was the sound of your gawk gawk skills, Stunna’s moaning, and the birds overhead. 

“That’s a good slut. That’s a good fuckin’ slut. Taking me well. Ou, ou, just like that. Just like that,” Stunna said, gripping the sides of your face and pulling you down faster. You breathed through your nose as he face fucked you, taking over control and treating you like his own fleshlight. 

Your drool slid down the side of his dick, mixing with his precum. You moaned at the taste of him, swirling your tongue around his tip. 

Stunna jerked his hips and looked at you with that crooked smile of his. “You ready for this nut?” He asked.

“Yes, Sir,” you slobbered on him.

Stunna dropped his head to the back of the bench. He continued to face fuck you, his dick jumping in your mouth. He groaned and then moaned loudly, cumming down your throat. You swallowed him, milking him for all he was worth. You continued to suck as he came and he twitched, eyes rolling, as he moaned again. 

You released him when he tapped on your cheek. You grinned, licking your lips and finally working out the crick in your jaw. Taking him fucking hurt sometimes but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You couldn’t explain why it thrilled you so much to get your husband to cum in your mouth. You felt a personal satisfaction that it was you who did it. And that you were able to continue to do it. 

Stunna grinned and caressed your jaw. He pulled you into a kiss, tongue dueling with yours. He moaned, deepening the kiss. He pulled back roughly and dropped his forehead to yours. “Bedroom. Now,” he said.

You giggled and hopped up from the porch, running inside. You headed straight to the bedroom, hopping onto the bed. Stunna followed closely behind, dick bobbing. You bit your lip, watching it. You wanted him back inside you. You wanted to please him some more.

Stunna went to his side of the room, pulling the mysterious black bag out from beneath the bed. You laid on your side watching him. He unzipped the duffle, eyeing you while he rummaged around in it. 

You peeked over the edge, eyes growing wider as your brain stalled on what was inside. Different types of ropes and handcuffs. A belt. Dildos and vibrators. You lifted your eyes to him while he selected a silk rope. 

He gestured for you to offer your hands. You pouted at him but he stared you down. His chest rose and fell with his breaths and you whined as you lifted your hands. Stunna slipped the black silk rope over your wrists and tightened it, securing it to you. He tested the pull on it and asked if it hurt you.

You shook your head. You tested the rope, trying to get out of it yourself. You couldn’t. You smirked at him. 

“Can you get out?” He asked.

“Nope,” you said, popping the p. Stunna grinned and you had to sigh from seeing his beautiful, wide smile. He pulled the rope, pulling you into a standing position. He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. 

“Sit,” he said. You sat back down on the bed. He pulled you to stand once more and you smirked at him, thighs slick with your essence. Your belly twisted with need. “Sit.”

You sat once more and looked to him for your next command. Stunna smiled. “Not being a brat today?” He asked.

You shrugged. “It’ll come when you least expect it,” you said. 

He chuckled and then lifted you higher onto the bed. Your legs dangled off the end of the bed, toes brushing against the ottoman. Stunna got in between, pushing your legs further apart. 

He grinned at you and then settled down onto his elbows. He lowered his face to your pussy, nudging his nose against your pussy, tickling the hairs there. You giggled and tried to close your legs. 

Stunna placed a kiss to your pussy lips and then looked up at you. “Hands above your head. If you move them, I’ll stop,” he said.

You kicked your foot against the ottoman. “You’re so mean!” You said. 

Stunna tilted his head at you. “When I least expect it huh?” He asked.

You giggled and shrugged your shoulders. “I’m a woman of many talents,” you said. 

Stunna shook his head. “Goofy ass. Hands up,” he said.

“Yes, Sir,” you mocked, putting your hands above your head on the bed. Stunna lowered himself once more to your pussy, inhaling deeply and humming in pleasure. “Smell so good,” he said.

He opened his mouth and rolled out his tongue, using it to separate your pussy lips. You moaned, bringing your arm to your mouth and biting down as he found your clit. His mouth was hot on your clit and you moaned. He teased you, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. 

“Ouee, shit, ouee shit,” you moaned. 

“Let me hear you, baby,” he said.

You moaned louder, cursing to the high heavens, as he licked your pussy. He brought his fingers to your pussy and plunged his fingers inside.

“Oh god!” You moaned, wanting to lower your arms to hold onto him but you didn’t want him to stop. Far from it, your eyes were rolling behind your closed lids from the sheer pleasure of his tongue on you.

“Ohhh, ohhh, oueeeeee,” you wailed. 

He pumped his fingers and ate you with a vengeance. Like he was truly punishing you for something. Damned if you knew what it was. Perhaps it was your attitude. You took it a bit too far. You made a mental note to do it again. If it got him eating you out like this…fuck, how long had it been? 

When did you lose yourself to schedules and sex dates and a little stick deciding your mood? When did you turn into such a crone that saw sex as another chore? A stepping stone to the baby you wanted? 

You twitched, groaning. “Oh fuck, baby. What did I do?” You cried. Stunna curled his fingers, rubbing against your sweet spot and your cries turned sharp, loud, piercing. 

“Not a damn thing,” he said against your pussy, lips wet from your dripping essence. 

“Then why you doing this to meeeee?” You cried. 

“‘Cause I can,” he said. He returned to eating you out, proving that he was only playing with you earlier. Your thighs trembled with pleasure. Your breathing turned ragged and sharp, stuttering in your chest as you fought to moan at the same time. 

“Sir, please,” you moaned. 

Stunna slurped up your essence, fingers still pumping faster and faster. You couldn’t do anything but moan, incoherent words and sounds spilling from you. Stunna latched onto your pussy one last time and you came on his tongue, came with loud shrieks and groans. Your body flopped on the bed. Stunna held your legs open and continued to devour you while you came undone at the seams. 

He ate you until you came down, huffing and puffing with effort. Your body felt like jelly. Weightless. You stared up at Stunna in amazement while he climbed onto the bed. The bed dipped with his weight. 

He lifted you by the hips and flipped you over onto your stomach. You went with little resistance, letting him position you how he liked while he checked on you. “Feeling good, baby?” 

“I think I died. This is heaven, surely?” You asked.

Stunna chuckled. “No,” he said. He pulled the duffle bag over to him and pulled out a vibrator. He teased you with it on the lowest setting, rubbing around your sensitive clit. “Oof, baby, please,” you begged. It was too soon for you to come again. Your body jerked, trying to get away from how good it felt.

Stunna leaned down over you and kissed your cheek. “I decide when you cum,” he said and kissed you again. 

You moaned as he pushed the vibrator into your sopping wet pussy. He turned up the setting and you moaned, grinding into the bed as the vibrator got you horny all over again. You were still humping the bed when Stunna positioned you on your elbows and knees. Not easy to do with your hands cuffed together.

He smacked your ass and you shrieked, pussy clenching around the vibrator. “But baby!” 

“Don’t ‘baby’ me. Yo ass thought shit was sweet?” He asked. He smacked your ass again, lighting up the other cheek with dry fire that made your pussy throb. 

“Pleaaaase,” you moaned. Stunna delivered more smacks, spanking you. You moaned after each one, stretching your back so that he had more areas to hit. Your ass was on fire but the inferno in your lower belly was even worse. 

The vibrator pushed right against your spot and you started to shake, thighs quaking, lip quivering. You moaned, pussy dripping with your essence around the vibrator. Stunna grabbed it and started to fuck you with it.

“Oue, fuck, oue fuck. Please, don’t stop. Don’t stop,” you moaned and begged, fucking him back on the vibrator.

“That’s my good fuckin’ slut. Chase that shit how you need,” he cooed to you. 

“Need…you…” you moaned, trying to fight off your orgasm. 

“What was that?” Stunna asked. He continued to fuck you with the vibrator, your pussy making all kinds of loud squelching noises. Like your pussy didn’t want to let go of the vibrator, not completely. “Can’t hear you over the sound of this pussy gripping the fuck outta this vibrator. Guess you don’t need me after all, huh?” 

You shook your head. “Need you,” you moaned. “Need that fat dick in this pussy, now!” You begged. 

“Tell me what you need?” He asked. He ignored you and continued to fuck you with the vibrator, turning it up to the highest setting. You sniffled, tears making your eyes itch. You were close to cumming, so close it hurt, but you wanted to cum on his dick.

“Fill me up, please. Please, please,” you whispered. 

“I love it when you beg for this dick,” he said. He pulled out the vibrator and replaced it with his dick. 

You moaned and gripped the sheets when he entered you, sliding in easily. The vibrator helped you prepare for his size, prepare for the sheer fullness of him stretching your needy little hole. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” You screamed. Stunna placed his hands on your hips and stroked. He rolled his hips and made you slam on his dick.

Your ass smacked against his thighs, igniting fresh waves of heat to travel from your ass, down your legs, and straight to your pussy. Stunna moaned, slamming your harder. Pressure built in your body, steam rising, until you were screaming like a tea kettle.

“Oh fuck!” Stunna moaned. You squeezed his dick as you came hard, furious, losing your voice with the force of it. He stroked a handful of times before joining you, filling you to the brim with his cum. 

Your body jerked one last time, twitching with his throbbing dick. He pumped it into you, body shaking as he pulled out. You shivered, crawling forward.

“Mhm, I’m not done,” Stunna said, out of breath and sweaty. He grabbed the vibrator from the bed and pushed it back in, trapping his cum inside. He fingered your clit and made you moan, made you clench and hopefully soak up his cum. 

You collapsed onto the bed and waved your arm. “Mercy, mercy,” you whispered.

Stunna chuckled and lowered the setting on the vibrator. He still kept it lodged inside you as he went to the bathroom and wetted a washcloth. He wiped down your sweaty, slick skin. He finally took out the vibrator and cleaned up the cum that slipped out of you. You watched it leak out with him and he kissed your temple. 

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” he promised. 

He spent the rest of the weekend doing just that. Filling you up like an absolute twinkie. The last thing on your mind was having a baby. You just wanted him with you, on you, in you, and all around you. You couldn’t get enough of talking with him, laughing with him, looking into his eyes while you both came at the same time.

And then you ate and danced and spent the rest of the weekend in your own little bubble. It was beyond heaven. Beyond perfection. You wished you could freeze this weekend. Or play it on a loop. You fell in love with your husband all over again this past weekend. You had no words to thank him. To cherish him.

A week later, you stood with him in the bathroom waiting for the stupid ass timer to go off. Stunna held your hand and kissed the back of it. He locked eyes with you in the mirror. 

“Whatever it says, we’ll deal with it together,” he said.

You smiled and nodded, trying to put on a brave face for him. You didn’t know what you would do if it was negative again. You couldn’t face the disappointment in his eyes. The way he would try to be strong for you. 

Your phone dinged and you took a deep breath, grabbing the pregnancy stick and flipping it over.

“Let’s goooooo!!!!” Stunna screamed. 

The dark, clear plus sign didn’t seem real. Your hand shook as you turned to face Stunna. “We did it! We did it!” You screamed.

Stunna hugged you and lifted you off of the ground. “You did it baby. You did it, I love you. I love you,” he said and kissed your face.

You giggled from all of the kisses, hugging him back as fiercely. Stunna lowered you to the ground and then kissed your socks off. He even bent you back with the force of the kiss, the happiness bursting through him was like the first break of sun after a cloudy day.

“Thank you,” he said, straightening up. He cupped your cheeks and kissed you once more. Your lips danced, pouring in all of your frustrations, hurts, and regrets. All of it was washed away with the news. 

“Come on, beautiful, we need to celebrate!” He said. He yanked on your arm. 

You laughed, trying to keep up with his long strides to your bedroom. “How?” You asked.

“With more dick!” He yelled over his shoulder. You giggled all the way to your bedroom.

The end.

You know there's more! The Secret Big Stunna Files

Taglist:

@planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz

@iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @logansblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl

@kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress

@henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22

@babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @00aijia00

@hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill

@cardi-bre91 @blowmymbackout @jay-mach @sageispunk @yourofficialgal

@liyaah02 @monaeesstuff @amethyst09 @harmshake @satoruya

@theunsweetenedtruth @ciaqui @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @yasminsqueendom

[luvfy0dor]

Hii! This is my first time requesting, and I hope you don't mind. There's a trend on TikTok called my marmalade. Where's they wearing an Ushanka hat? Can you do one with Fyodor where you steal his Ushanka hat just to do the trend?

“My Marmalade ♡⁠˖” Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; only briefly proofread.

Description; Borrowing your boyfriends ushanka for a tiktok trend

A/n; Hi! Dw I don't mind at all!! I hadn't seen this trend until I looked it up, but I like the video where the girl used the cat as the hat, it was cute lol

ೃ⁀➷

Tiktok trends weren't entirely your thing, but upon seeing this one you figured why not try it out. You stared at your phone, the video of a girl blowing kisses into the camera playing on the screen. She had a fur hat on and the white tufts were glittery in that specific lighting. There was a similar hat around somewhere - most likely on your boyfriends head. All you had to do was obtain it by either stealing it briefly or asking to borrow it. You didn't really want to explain why you needed his hat because he'd probably find it silly, so you chose the first option. Even if he caught you taking his hat it's not like he'd be mad. If anything he'd either find it mildly amusing or he just simply wouldn't care.

You began your search for the fluffy accessory, feeling as though you had struck gold upon remembering your lover was in the shower. You headed back towards your shared bedroom, hoping he had left it on your dresser where he usually did. You knew him well enough to be correct and you snatched the hat off of it before making your way back to the living room. Your fingers brushed over the soft fur as you pulled up the audio and propped up the phone against a lamp. You set the timer to three seconds, starting the recording and taking a few steps back. The countdown sound had covered the clicking of the door and Fyodors soft footsteps exiting the bathroom. The audio sounded throughout the living room while you watched yourself dance in the camera.

You had a smile on your face and your hands on your hips as you started lip syncing the chorus, having watched enough videos with lyrics that spelled out the pronunciation to do it relatively accurately. As you brought your hand to your mouth to blow a kiss, Fyodor spoke, making you jump like a cat at the sight of a cucumber. "Ah, that's where my hat went." His voice was soft and smooth, mostly monotonous as usual. You could feel heat focus in your cheeks as you embarrassedly stood there. "Well I wasn't gonna barge in on your shower to ask for it." You said, trying to justify yourself. He smiles slightly in amusement and approaches you, adjusting the hat so that the flaps were hooked together on the top instead of at the sides.

"I believe that's how most people who are participating in the trend are wearing it." He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek with his hands on your shoulders. "You've seen it?" You raise an eyebrow, unaware of whether or not he had recently downloaded tiktok. He shook his head though. "No, it is quite coincidental that this is trending now, though. I had thought about the song the other day, so I looked up the lyrics and the videos were some of the top results. The song was popular when I was young." He explains to you, gazing at you from beyond his eyelashes. Your mouth forms an 'o' shape as you nod in understanding.

"So you don't think it's stupid or anything?" You ask, once again raising an eyebrow. Fyodor seems to think for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Sort of. I don't really understand the 'slavic-core' thing. I suppose it's appreciation though, and that is refreshing to see." He says, shrugging as his finger rests on his chin. "That's fair." You say, before grabbing your phone and deleting the clip. You look to see if Fyodor is going anywhere before restarting the timer only to be met with him staring back at you. "Should I leave while you film?" He asks with a tilt of his head, his damp hair cascading towards the right side. You hesitantly shake your head, grabbing his hand gently. "No, no, you can stay. You did the hat thing for me, so I don't wanna kick you out." You say. He smiles and sits down on the couch, his soft stare fixated upon your body as the countdown started again.

You blushed, covering the bottom half of your face with your hand as you backed up again. The music started up again and you did the little routine once more, your boyfriend low key amused as he watched with a neutral face. You finished it and retrieved your phone with your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth as you watched the video over. You thought it was cute, so you wrote out a caption and tags and posted it. Fyodor was still staring at you when you looked back over at him. "What?" He let out a small amused chuckle. "You just look sort of silly, my dear." He says. An embarrassed smile pulls at the corners of your lips as you sigh and nod. "Yeah, I could imagine." You murmur against the skin of your fingers. He pulls you closer to him by your waist, pressing two soft kisses to your side, mimicking the 'mwah' sound in the audio, making you blush a little before trying to push his head away from your body.

"Stop teasing me." you playfully say as he hums against the fabric of your shirt. "I'm not teasing you, Moya lyubov, I'm just reenacting your little video." He claims. You run your fingers through his hair and sigh. Your couldn't complain though, after all, he did let you borrow his favorite hat to participate in the trend.

A/n; hope y'all enjoy this because if I flop.

[jinkoh]

did you have your fun?

younghoon x fem!reader

summary: if younghoon isn't serious about you, how come it's so easy to make him jealous?

tags: fwb/situationship to lovers, jealous!possessive!younghoon, fratboy!au, teasing, making out, heavily suggestive, a little bondage lol, some misunderstandings, some fluff

wc: 1.5k

a/n: kate made a tiny comment abt our beloved shared bias and suddenly i had to write a drabble about it 🙊 thanks for always watching and gushing abt our men together, @blizzardfluffykpop

Masterlist

You knew exactly what you were doing when you walked into the frat party with your lab partner’s arm around your waist. You weren’t serious about Kevin and he knew that well, merely playing along for shits and giggles. No, this wasn’t about him. It was all about one of the hosts, Kim Younghoon. You had his attention the second you came through the door, meeting his eyes briefly before letting them wander over the rest of the guests. Younghoon didn’t move on quite as quickly though, his gaze piercing you and the guy at your side who so clearly wasn’t him. 

“Someone’s not amused, huh?” Kevin whispered, coming unnecessarily close and making a show of tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You felt a grin spread on your lips.

“Well, this isn’t about his amusement but mine.”

“You’re such a little shit,” Kevin shook his head with a chuckle, clearly as entertained with all of this as you were. “So, drinks?”

“Always.”

“Good,” once more Kevin leaned in close to your ear, “I’ll be back.” He turned to leave, not without his hand lingering on your waist just a little bit too long. Of course Younghoon noticed and he was clearly not having a good time. He stared you down from the other side of the room, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek—a telltale sign that his patience was already running thin. Funny, you thought, since you’d only just arrived. Even funnier, since he’d been the one insisting that you and him were casual, just friends even, in front of his buddies. And yet, he got riled up so easily when someone else was by your side.

You turned away unimpressed, looking for a place to sit. If Younghoon wanted to talk to you, he’d have to make the first step. You wouldn’t come running after him like a dog just because he liked puppies.

Kevin soon came back with drinks for both of you, finding you on the couch sitting next to Eric who enthusiastically greeted him, surprised to see the two of you came together.

“I thought you were dating Younghoon, to be honest,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head, “he’s been talking about you and you were always hanging out…”

“Oh, really?” You couldn’t help feeling a little smug.

“Ah, but don’t worry about it,” he quickly added, turning to Kevin, “you look good together.”

“Of course we do,” he responded with a grin, casually letting his hand rest on your knee. He was really going all out with this and when you caught another glimpse of Younghoon who was very obviously focusing more on you than on whatever Hyunjae was telling him, you felt you made the right choice in asking Kevin to accompany you. 

You thoroughly enjoyed the party, having a few drinks, joking around with some of the guys and of course, sharing some not so subtle touches with Kevin. You tried not to let your gaze wander back to Younghoon too often, but the way you knew all his attention was on you made your skin prickle with a sense of excitement. Your initial plan had been to wait it out a little longer and rile him up more. You had to admit though, that Younghoon wasn’t the only one who was running out of patience. You excused yourself to go to the bathroom, but judging from the little eyebrow raise Kevin gave you, he was well aware that you probably wouldn’t come back so soon. 

You’d barely stepped into the hallway when someone grabbed your wrist and whisked you around a corner, out of sight from other party guests. It only took him a second to have you pinned against the wall, hovering above you.

“Did you have your fun?” 

Younghoon was clearly pissed off, but you still wanted to push a little further. “Oh, I barely even started. The night is still young, right?”

“What,” he taunted, “did you plan to go home with him later? Really?”

You shrugged. “Why not?”

“Unbelievable,” Younghoon let out a huffed laugh, running his hand through his hair before looking back at you again. “You’re showing up to a party at my house with some guy and expect me to let that slide? Didn’t I warn you last time not to pull shit like this?”

“Well,” you lifted your chin and gave him a challenging look, “and didn’t I tell you last time that you’re in no position to give me any such warning?”

There was his tongue poking his cheek again and you knew you had him where you wanted him to be. “Fine, keep being a brat, but see where it gets you.”

You leaned up close enough for your breath to fan over his lips. “Show me then.”

That was it. You had him. He almost forcefully crashed his lips into yours, kissing you with an intoxicating mix of hunger and frustration that you couldn’t get enough of. You let yourself fall into the kiss, raking your hands through his soft hair and pulling him closer. 

“You’re so much trouble,” he mumbled when you parted to breathe.

“Are you sure it’s me who’s troublesome?” you responded with a chuckle but between bickering back and kissing you again Younghoon chose the latter. You lightly bit down on his lower lip to tease him and it seemed to make him feel vindicated in his accusation. “Definitely you,” he said with a grin before pulling you with him, up the stairs and to his bedroom.

It was far from the first time you were falling onto his soft mattress, nor was it the first time to have him hover above you, greedy hands pushing up your shirt. No, Younghoon and you had been doing this for a while now (surely longer than was good for you) but it still felt so exciting every single time. Despite your frustration with the ambiguous nature of your relationship, his touch was just so addicting to you and you liked touching him just as much.

It seemed you wouldn’t be allowed to tonight though, because the moment you started tugging on the waistband of his pants, Younghoon caught your wrists in one hand, pinning them down above your head. 

“Who said you could touch me with those filthy hands that were all over him just a few minutes ago?” 

“I barely even touched him,” you let out a dissatisfied whine, but Younghoon didn’t budge. His free hand pushed up your shirt, pulling it all the way over your head before using it to keep your wrists tied. He briefly slipped two fingers between your skin and the soft fabric, making sure it wasn’t sitting too tight, before he let his hand trail back down over your inner arm to your collar bones.

“Much better,” he whispered close to your ear, “Good to have my hands free.” A grin spread on his lips, "Not like you could relate right now."

"Very funny."

"I know, right?" He let his fingers roam over your body, before settling on your hips and pulling them up a bit, making you arch your back off the mattress. It gave him the access he needed to slip one hand beneath your body and unclasp your bra. He didn’t bother taking it off properly, just pushing it up enough to reveal your chest and attaching his lips to your sensitive skin right away. 

“You better not let him see this part of you,” he mumbled in between nibs and kisses.

“What if I already did?”

His eyes shot up to yours. “Did you?”

“No,” you grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck, tied wrists resting at his nape, “but it’s fun to see your reaction. Pretty jealous of someone who doesn’t want to be exclusive.”

A small frown spread on his face. “When did I ever say that?”

“Well, you made it pretty clear that we’re not serious when your friends asked before.”

He averted his gaze and you thought there was the faintest blush rising all the way to the tips of his ears. “We’d never talked about it at that point so of course I can’t just say we’re dating.” His voice sounded pouty. 

You felt your own cheeks heat up too at his words, realizing your own silly misunderstanding. “You should have told me,” you mumbled, well aware that you could have addressed it too.

“Is that why you’ve been clinging to Kevin these days? Because you thought I didn’t want you?”

“I thought maybe you just didn’t want to admit it…”

A small smile tugged at Younghoon’s lips before he leaned up to peck yours. “Well, since you so clearly want me it’s not that hard to admit.” He pecked your lips again. “I want you. I like you. So don’t let others touch you again.”

“Okay,” you kissed him back, “I won’t. So can you untie me now?” You demonstratively wriggled your arms.

“Hm, I don’t know,” Younghoon grinned, before rolling his hips into you, “I think it’s kinda fun this way.”

Masterlist

[asukaskerian]

bleach daemon AU - outside POV on harribel

so a couple centuries (5 years) ago i asked for prompts for this (grimmichi) verse. most of them are still languishing in my file.

but then i was prodding at the fullbringers arc and i was like "lol i could add some yakuzas" because, lol, in the last fic of that series there's an outsider pov on a yakuza. (he thinks ichigo is an oyabun's young heir and grimmjow is his hitman bodyguard. it's hilarious.) and then this ficlet was like "i will be short to complete and then, having gotten back into the yakuza oc mindset, you can go back to the multipart!" (it was a lie) but anyway.

--

anonymous asked: In the Grimmichi Daemonverse, could you have Nel and/or Harribel come try out the daemon thing? Then Ichigo could be seen hanging out not only with his hot yakuza boyfriend but also with hot dangerous-looking women, like he's slowly growing his harem :)

it alas did not end up looking like a harem. but, lol anyway.

Jin's daemon Rin is a snake i forget which kind and Yamatora's daemon Queen is a little terrier dog. Grimmjow's panther is Leucanthe and Ichigo's lioness is Rikuto. Oh and some of Grimmjow's fraccion survived and are hanging around in gigai too.

--

Times were, Jin and Rin liked it when the big boss's eyes fell on them and he said things like, "ah, I can entrust you with that thing". Felt important, like understanding, like respect.

Now Rin coils tighter around his neck and resists the urge to sigh.

"Urahara-dono, sir?"

The boss nods slowly. "You're good with the weird," his daemon says.

Jin does not feel very complimented.

"Take your newbie with you. Urahara-dono's heir knows him, doesn't he?"

Urahara-dono's heir regards Jin's trainee the way one regards a dumb, hapless chicken in a field full of foxes and tiger pits -- with vague, despairing concern. It's, Jin supposes, not the worst thing. He could be regarding him like a newly powerful man regards the punk who used to try to beat him up behind the grocery store.

Jin supposes the operative word here is "try".

"Yes, sir," he replies, dutiful if not enthused.

"Oh, and I'm sending Matsuoka too. He's got to get used to dealing with Urahara-dono's cohort if he wants to get anywhere as an underboss," the big boss mutters, and Jin feels very briefly doomed.

--

Matsuoka-san is a very new underboss; a modern, ambitious type. His daemon is a falcon -- observant, wary, viciously fast to attack. He comes from a sister family to the Kishiume and he has a great many fresh ideas to revolutionize the criminal underworld.

He also has no fucking clue why the big boss went so far as to meet with some unkempt undercover-as-a-shopkeeper guy with no bonds of brotherhood to any other family when as far as anybody can tell he has twenty men tops and isn't trading out any weapons or sellable shit.

He'll learn, Jin knows.

"Or he'll get dead," Rin mutters. Jin doesn't even bother huffing his reaction.

"What'd you say, Rin-san?" Queen asks solicitously, craning her neck to catch a glimpse.

"Nothing of importance. Turn left at the next crossroads."

They turn left. Yamatora is humming nervously, fingers tapping the wheel, but he's a surprisingly good driver. He maintains his speed with machine-like precision and uses his turn signal religiously. They're not going to get pulled over today, no matter how completely suspicious the semi-trailer truck is, driving through narrow suburb streets as it is.

Inside there's a giant tub of water and a rigged-together bunch of sprinklers and some pulley system for a stretcher. Jin officially does not want to even wonder.

Matsuoka-san is following them in his sports car. If anybody gets them stopped today he will.

--

They get to the Urahara shop; park the truck on the stretch of beaten earth before its front door. Step out of the truck. The front steps are home to three men -- two of them massive and well-muscled, the last whipcord-thin and playing with something that shines in the sunlight. Jin does not want to take a single step closer to them. They bother him the same way Kurosaki-san's bodyguard bothers him -- something crazy in the gleam of their grinning teeth. He goes anyway.

He lets Matsuoka-san go first, though. It isn't his place to tell the underboss to be careful of bottom-rung flunkies.

"Tell your boss the Kishiume envoys are here," Matsuoka-san starts with, his falcon mantling her wings pointedly. Rin hisses quietly, winds herself tighter. Queen briefly cowers behind Tora's legs, and then wanders out to swagger awkwardly as they try to provide backup.

The three men stare back for a long couple of seconds, and then the scrawny one with the fat lizard laughs, like they have an inside joke and it's on Matsuoka-san.

"Be polite," the red-haired one chides mildly, his baboon smiling in a too-human way for fangs that size. "Go get him."

"Yeah, yeah," the scrawny guy goes, standing up, and disappears indoors, daemon wrapped around his shoulders like a yellow-and-black scarf. The sliding door snaps closed behind him as he stomps on wooden boards loud enough to be heard from outside.

The guy who emerges isn't Urahara-dono. It's the crazy panther guy.

The panther slinks out of the door first, casually brushing against the last guy's warthog, and on her heels comes the man, loose-limbed and his eyelids heavy, unimpressed. He scans their trio and says nothing to Matsuoka-san, visibly at the head of it, stares at Jin himself for a second longer. Nods, to him and not to the underboss.

"I remember you."

That is... not something Jin knows whether to appreciate or not, but he nods back, expressionless.

The panther sits, licks her paw with casual unconcern. "Thanks for last time. We had fun."

Yamatora blinks dumbly. "Oh, at the p--" Jin elbows him. The hitman smirks.

And they've officially reached the end of Matsuoka-san's patience. Daemon fluffing up her feathers in annoyance, he takes a step forward. "I asked to see your boss. Where is he."

An arctic-blue look spears him right back. "No, you asked for their boss. That's me."

... Oh, hell. This is now a pissing contest. Jin knew it. He doesn't even know who to bet on; Matsuoka-san has a gun and a lot of rage, but the hitman is... The vibes. No. His panther is just going to leap and pluck the falcon right out of the air before anyone can even throw a punch, how can Matsuoka-san not see that?

Also how the hell does it work? Kurosaki-san is training under Urahara-dono, so how--

"Grimmjow, what the hell -- oh, you guys are here! Awesome."

And Kurosaki-san's daemon is now peeking out of the door, sans her human, looking as innocently curious as a black lioness can possibly be. She doesn't pad out, likely not wanting to strain her bond; instead she just... stares at Queen, and blinks myopically, and goes "Oh, hey, I know you. I think? Hi."

"I'm Queen!" Queen yaps, bristled in offense. "Queen and Yamatora!"

"Oh right! Taroyama. Yeah. I remember. Anyway!"

Tora and his daemon are suffocating with spluttery offense. Rin and Jin would be offended too if they thought Kurosaki-san actively meant to be offensive, but the fact of the matter is that she just doesn't seem to care enough to be deliberate.

They're not sure if she meant to utterly ignore Matsuoka-san to start with, but when his daemon starts angling out her wings like she plans to dive and strike, they know it's not gonna matter in the long run.

Kurosaki-san turns her heavy head up to the falcon, nods, expression a little more reserved. "Kishiume-sama's representative, huh? I'm Kurosaki Rikuto. Thanks for coming, we appreciate it."

"Do you," Matsuoka-san says back, jaw clenched. "Greeting us with disrespectful little punks, and then with half of you--"

The way the black jaguar slowly moves to stand between him and the lioness says nothing good. "I'm sure he couldn't help it," Jin says before the hitman can open his mouth and shoot something really impolitic right back.

"Yeah, he's -- ow, fuck." The lioness shakes her head, as if hurt; from inside the shop comes a muffled, "Grimmjow! Can someone come help me hold her down?!"

"Leu?" the lioness asks, and the panther groans.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Kanchana, you and Edrad are in charge. You guys know what we need."

The hitman and his daemon amble back inside without another word. Fuming, Matsuoka-san hisses between his teeth, daemon with her feathers all puffed up.

The redhead with the baboon stands, a faint smirk on his face that could pass for apologetic in the right light. "Alright. Sorry for this. Things have been a bit chaotic this morning. It should go much smoother now that you and your men are here to assist. That the trailer? Can I check it out?"

--

At Edrad's instructions, they've turned the truck and the trailer around to back it against the front door. Matsuoka-san has been gritting his teeth over not being invited inside for the whole ten minutes it took, and Jin and Rin have been standing next to the big, silent one and his warthog in mutual, warily respectful quiet for just as long as the blond brat with the lizard pops in and out of a window to the side of the building to relay informations.

"Who do you think they were holding down?" Tora whispers in his other ear. "The journalist?"

"The journalist was months ago. It'd be over with by now."

Matsuoka-san narrows his eyes, as if he wants to ask for the story but knows better than to do it in a yard where everyone comes and goes. "Or they were giving us a half-assed excuse not to greet us properly. Who the fuck does that kind of business in the same rooms they receive people--"

From the shop comes a sudden, ragged scream; a woman's scream, raw and gut-deep. The three of them tense, Tora's eyes going wide. The big man beside them blinks down at them placidly.

"--Okay, who the fuck does that kind of business somewhere they can be heard from the street?"

Inside they can hear a mad scramble of feet approaching through the shop; the screams die down into gasps even as they get closer and -- bumps and thuds, feet, the trailer swaying under the growing weight of... they can see nothing, the trailer parked so damn close and the big man standing there blocking the hair-thin gap between it and the door. The paper squares of the screen are opaque and the light is stronger outside and Jin can see nothing but shadows.

Rin sees a lot of warm spots moving around, but that doesn't say much more.

"What... What do you think she did?" Queen whispers from Tora's arms, quaking just barely. Rin strikes at her nose, annoyed.

"How many times do I have to tell you, it doesn't matter what she did, or her lover did, it's not your business."

Their only job is to assist with transport. Transport of a screaming woman who needed to be held down, in a trailer with a tank of water more than big enough to submerge someone. Yeah, it's gonna be a right dirty job.

But Urahara-dono asked for that favor, to pay back some favor he did the boss a way back that's been hanging over his head for years. Here they are and that's it.

He hopes being asked to take the fall isn't going to be part of it. Surely the boss would have warned them. Or he would have given Jin and Rin someone else than Tora and Queen. Right now all they can do that isn't drive the truck and beat up people is provide a convenient corpse, and ... No, Jin didn't get that vibe. Which is good because he got kind of used to Tora's dependable stupidity.

--

They get asked to deliver the trailer to a secret address.

The address is a beach. A craggy little thing tucked between two cliffs, pebbles instead of sand with big splashing waves and a quick drop toward the depths. A great place to dump corpses.

Maneuvering the trailer down that beach is a six-person job; the two big henchmen, the blue-haired hitman, Kurosaki-san, and Jin and Tora themselves. It's heavy, and the slope is pronounced.

The water inside keeps splashing out, even though the thing inside seems to be doing its best not to move.

The waves lap at their legs, ankles first and then thighs. It's cold. Not a season for swimming. Kurosaki gets slapped in the face by a wave and huffs. "Ugh. Okay -- okay, a bit more. Harribel-san?"

Then the trailer shifts and bobs, half-carried by the waves, and unlocks from the inside.

The loading ramp flops down, slapping the water. A woman emerges to stand on the threshold.

Jin stops breathing.

He hopes he's being discreet. He hopes she doesn't notice he exists.

"Holy shiiit, babe alert," Tora whispers, and from her perch across his shoulder Queen perks up, scanning her shoulders and around her legs for the daemon. Rin strikes out without a thought, hitting Queen's flank with her snout and stopping herself from sinking in her fangs at the very last second. Does he want to get them all fucking killed?!

Queen yips in betrayed surprise. The woman's eyes glance over them. Jin stands very, very straight and mentally catalogs his weapons; he barely relaxes when she finally looks away.

"That is not someone's girlfriend," he hisses under his breath. Sure she's tanned and blonde like any gyaru from the clubs but if she's more than half Japanese he'll cut off his pinky on the spot. She's... something else.

Back on the shore Matsuoka-san and his daemon are bristled up like they're still working themselves up to snarling something. Time to take one for the team. The big boss had better be thankful.

"Your pardon, ma'am. Do you need any help to unload?"

Whatever it is inside there, that the men didn't let them see carry in. Whatever they're carrying in water (water daemon?) to a disposal area (screaming woman with cement shoes?) that they will no doubt see now unless they leave straight away, and Matsuoka-san won't. He feels too slighted to allow them the discretion.

She looks down at him from above and her eyes are depthless, suffocating.

"If she needs help it sure as fuck won't be yours," the hitman laughs. "Yo, Harribel, you vacationing up here?"

She doesn't answer the hitman's jeer; she looks at him for a second and then back at Jin, and her voice is low, husky. "I will manage. Step back onto the shore. Grimmjow, have Nakeem hold onto the hitch."

The hitman makes a permissive hand gesture and the man with the warthog obeys. Kurosaki-san herds everyone else out of the water in big splashing steps, and they're still ankle deep when the trailer rocks and something massive slips out.

Jin was keeping watch over his shoulder. He still barely has the time to see the long body slip down the ramp -- white belly, dark back, fins --

"Is that a shark?" Matsuoka-san chokes out.

"It's obviously a fucking tortoise," the hitman drawls back with unimpressed mockery. His panther is watching them and Jin doesn't like the cant of her ears one bit.

"He's a Great White, I'm pretty sure," Kurosaki interjects, and elbows the hitman in the ribs. At the other end of the trailer a splash resounds, the woman diving smoothly after her daemon.

They miraculously all shut up for a minute or two as they watch the dorsal fin cut through the waves. The woman doesn't resurface for -- pretty long.

"All good, Harribel-san?"

"Satisfactory," she replies, bobbing with the waves. The fin resurfaces, and a great deal of sleek shark back. "Wait a bit longer for the trailer."

It's bobbing on the waves, the henchman Nakeem still holding onto the chain to keep it from drifting away and sinking. Dragging it back upslope is going to be a chore and a half.

Getting the shark back into the rig--

How did they even get it inside the first time around? Does Urahara-dono have a seawater pool with a winch in the backroom of his shop? It's ridiculous. His shop looks so small. Even if there's a basement it would need a freight elevator--

Not his business, he reminds himself.

"Shouldn't we at least beach it, ma'am?"

The shark surfaces, much closer to the shore than he assumed it could get. The woman shakes her head, expressionless. "It's not safe yet."

--Ah?

Further away -- so far, how long is her tether, isn't that uncomfortable -- a fish jumps out of the waves. A dorsal fin follows. The shark was between her and the shore not a minute ago.

"Not... safe?"

The henchman with the baboon laughs in amused sympathy. "So he doesn't react badly if you scratch yourself on the frame and bleed. He might bite down before he's thought it through."

Queen whimpers. "Oh my god."

"He's been cooped up a while, is all! He'll be more sociable in a minute."

The panther grumbles, batting at the lapping waves. "Yeah well he'd better hurry up, cause I want to swim too."

"Seriously? It's cold as hell! You're a tropical cat!"

"You're a whiner."

"Oh, fuck off--"

"Shut the fuck up," Matsuoka-san snaps without warning. "The fuck kind of job is this? A vacation?"

Kurosaki scowls back, but half-heartedly, more chiding than insulted. The hitman props an elbow on his shoulder and snorts, a derisive half-smile floating on his face. Both cats turn to stare, then the panther rolls her eyes and goes back to aimlessly slapping at the waves. The lioness starts scratching her ear with a back paw.

"We didn't have a trailer big enough," Kurosaki-san says, patient but tired. "And you guys did. Nobody said it was life or death, you don't need to be so tense."

Tora slips Jin a look like he's asking if they need to back him up. Jin shakes his head no. They have twice as many people if this goes bad and Kurosaki-san is still attempting to deescalate; if Matsuoka-san wants a pissing contest it's probably not going to go further than a beatdown, which at this point he is asking for.

"Tense? The fuck do you mean?"

-- Unless the hitman gets involved --

"I mean tense like tense," Kurosaki-san snaps back, finally getting annoyed, "but if you want to hear it like scared that's not my business," but the hitman has already let his elbow slide off his shoulder, is already taking a gliding step forward--

"Grimmjow."

He stops.

Thigh-deep in the waves, the woman is staring, still expressionless.

"What," he growls back, head inclined toward her but still facing Matsuoka-san.

"Don't cause Urahara Kisuke problems."

"You're telling me you think his boss didn't send him here so we fix his attitude problem for him?"

Jin winces inwardly. Matsuoka-san gets shocked stupid, bird rearing back. Apparently he didn't have the first clue that his attitude needed adjusting and the concept is stalling his brain -- or maybe it's the matter-of-fact way they speak that hammers it in, like of course that's true, but it's nothing to get excited over, because he's just that unimportant, just that harmless.

"That doesn't matter. He didn't ask out loud. Let Urahara make the call."

"... Boring." The hitman gives Matsuoka-san a dismissive look and turns away.

Yamatora and Queen are staring, mouths open. "W-wait -- ah, miss -- lady -- are... you his boss?"

She walks up onto the beach, hair dripping. Her wetsuit follows every curve of her body, and they all spell predator. Jin wishes he had muzzled his rookie.

"He's on loan to Kurosaki Ichigo."

... Jin reorganizes his understanding of Urahara-dono's outfit in his head.

Is Grimmjow-san an underboss? Loaned with his whole team? Are they all crazy hitmen like he is? The man with the pig daemon is expressionless like somebody dead and the one with the baboon normal, friendly, and standing between them and the car and Jin didn't notice.

"Thanks," Kurosaki-san says drolly. "How do I give him back?"

"You don't," the hitman leers back. "I gotta be wrapped all special in a... Edrad, what's the word?" he asks leadingly.

"Body bag?"

The man smirks wider, fangy, flicking his fingers at his man. "That's it."

"I can arrange that," Kurosaki-san grouches. "Harribel-san, can I drown him a little? Is it okay now? I don't want to give your daemon indigestion--"

"The fuck he could eat us!" the panther yowls, incensed. "Fucking goldfish--"

Sighing, the woman nods her agreement to the lioness, who sidesweeps her human's legs with her own flank, sending him careening into the hitman, who trips over his own daemon, and they all end up knee deep in the waves, spluttering and hollering insults. The henchman with the baboon laughs.

"Harribel-sama. Anything you need?"

"No. Don't get into the water yet, you'll seem more edible."

"Oh, I had no intention, ma'am."

She comes to a stop before Matsuoka. Her daemon is so far from her, swimming laps at the entry to the cove, barely visible; she stands alone and barely seems to notice.

If he treats her like somebody's woman he is going to die. It looks like he does have some good sense behind the bluster, though, because he grits his teeth and says nothing and nods back when she does.

"Thank you for the ride. I won't be needing your help on the trip back. Edrad and Nakeem will help you get the trailer back and after that you may go."

... What?

"Convey my thanks to your head," she adds with another nod to the three of them, and then she turns right back toward the sea.

"But... How is she going home?" Tora asks plaintively.

Jin can only shrug.

Maybe there's a boat waiting out there. Maybe there's an oxygen bottle and a mask hidden somewhere in the rocks, and they will go out at sea and disappear that way. Maybe that is how she gets around usually and the inland side-trip was unplanned, a trap even; and he doesn't know and will never know, and he sure as hell will not ask.

Unless they fit inside a carry-on aquatic daemons are a disability for everyday life. Where do you live with them as a human; a barge? A cruise ship? Venice?

Where do you live that still lets you become a boss?

And how have they never heard of her?

He is so, so glad it's a question for his oyabun and not for him. He feels like knowing would shorten his lifespan considerably.

[thewriterthatghostedyou]

The Dragon and The Wolf

Chapter 2

Trigger warnings: minor character death, canon level violence

This chapter is mainly setting up for future chapters and is me trying to follow canon before breaking it lol. I’m trying to stick to the show but will lengthen things out to fit the story better. Hope you all enjoy!

Divider by @zaldritzosrose

You had slept soundly after a modest dinner with your brother, the fine beds in the Red Keep were much more comfortable than the ones you had stayed in while traveling South.

As you sat up in bed, stretching slightly you smiled at the thought of the tourney beginning today. Cregan had been too young to see the last one the king had hosted celebrating the coming of a son who had never arrived being a babe himself and you were excited to cheer your brother on. Perhaps it wasn’t ladylike in the South to enjoy fights, but that was never an ideal held by your father. He had insisted that you receive archery lessons alongside your brother. To which you happily paid attention to.

“My lady, may we come in?” A soft voice spoke as the door to your chambers were slightly opened.

“Oh yes of course.” You hurriedly got up from the bed and smoothed out your nightgown instinctively.

Two women you had been briefly introduced to last night walked in with shy smiles before starting to prepare your gown for the day. The other lady walked closer to you and motioned for you to sit at a richly adorned vanity.

You obliged and sat into the plush chair looking at your reflection in the mirror. “I suppose I should have my hair out of my face until I get used to the Southern heat.” You ran your fingers through your hair, before looking at the bed behind you and seeing a richly decorated gown being prepared.

You sighed as the events from yesterday returned to you. The petition. “Actually I will trust your judgment.” You smiled at the woman behind you before straightening yourself in front of the mirror. “What are your names again? With all the excitement of yesterday I can’t remember what you had said.” You asked softly as the older woman began brushing your hair.

“My name is Adianna, my lady. My partner’s name is Ursa.”

You repeated the names once watching as Adianna’s skilled fingers began to weave your hair into a regal braid.

As excited as you were for the tourney you dreaded the thought of the petition. It was exactly what your father had told you about the South. Lords and second sons grabbing at power while letting the small folk starve and suffer. You could almost guarantee that the small folk didn’t care about the succession to Driftmark. Well, perhaps those who lived in the Blackwater Bay did seeing as whoever came out on top would lead them.

With one quick flick of her hands, Adianna finished your hair and you shot her a grateful smile. “It looks beautiful! Thank you!” The older maid returned the smile as you walked over to your gown. It had a high neckline and was in your house colors with gray embellishments around the trunk. With ease, the two ladies had you dressed and straightened any wrinkles they could see.

“You look lovely, my lady.” Ursa said, curtising demurely before stepping back.

“Only because of both of your talents.” You returned the compliment, swishing slightly to see the full gown, enjoying the feel of the satin against your legs.

Ursa blushed slightly and curtsied again before leaving in a hurry, a shy smile on her face.

“We will be a call away whenever you would like to prepare for the joust.” Adianna curtsied as well before following her partner.

You studied yourself in an ornate full length mirror as you overheard Adianna talking with a deeper voice. “She’s ready, my lord.”

“Thank you.” You connect the voice to your brother and turn to face him nervously. “Might as well get this over with.” Cregan offered you his arm with a teasing smile.

“Ah yes, the sooner this is over the sooner I can watch you get knocked into the dirt.” You giggled as you took his arm. He was wearing leather armor that looked brand new, adorned with small metal embellishments to fit in at court.

He chuckled and shook his head as the two of you walked arm in arm through the halls. “Do you truly have such little faith in my abilities, sister?”

“I’ll have to see the other knights fight before I’m able to answer.” The two of your footfalls thudding against the stone floors as you take in the interior of the red keep. As you had arrived late last night, you were too exhausted to truly take in your new surroundings.

The path you were on was in a massive hallway, with ceilings reaching lengths you had thought impossible. You tried not to gawk at the multiple massive chandeliers that you passed under and noticed numerous banners that bore the signature Targaryen signal in a striking black and red. The tanned stones were surprisingly bare for the capital but they were smoothed to perfection with white columns holding the floor above you.

“What do you think is going to happen?” You asked as you approached two massive iron double doors.

Cregan was unable to answer as the doors opened and a loud voice rang out. “Lord Cregan Stark and his sister the Lady Y/n Stark.”

You bristled slightly, not expecting to be announced so officially before standing straighter.

There are many other lords and ladies in attendance and it appears as if you and your brother were one the the last to arrive. The two of you walk down the stairs and you notice the obvious division in the room.

On the right stood Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen standing next to an older man with white hair that you assumed was her husband Daemon Targaryen. On her other side stood Lucerys Velaryon with his brother and two other women with Targaryen hair behind him.

On the left side was the Queen, dressed in a dark green gown surrounded by her children. You recognized Aemond and was able to assume that the other man who yawned was her eldest son Aegon. The girl standing next to the queen gave you a small smile. That must be Princess Helaena.

The tension in the room was palpable as both Greens and Blacks stared at the two of you, waiting to see which side you stood on. You knew that this was not a decision to be made lightly. Standing with the Greens implied that you believed that Lucerys should be replaced as heir. Standing with the Blacks meant the opposite. Something told you that lines couldn’t exactly be redrawn after this.

You flicked your eyes to Cregan, not looking at either side, waiting for him to make a choice. Cregan had no hesitation as he led you to the Blacks, honor leading his actions. You followed him easily as another pair was announced, but you didn’t catch their names as you stood next to your brother facing off against the Greens.

You saw Prince Jacaerys give you a small smile that you instinctively returned before turning back towards the iron throne. It was a large jagged thing, although you supposed that nothing else could describe a chair made of swords.

You sneak a quick glance at the Greens, noticing that Princess Helaena seemed unphased by the two of you showing loyalty to the Blacks and instead seemed to be fiddle with her sleeve. It was her brother; however, that caught your attention as two nobles walked over to the Green side he seemed to look past them. You felt chills climb your spine as his stare pierced into you.

You looked away quickly after meeting his eye and swallowed nervously.

The chatter that was occurring died out as the Hand walked up to the Iron Throne.

“Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As hand, I speak with the King’s voice on this and all other matters.”

You were surprised to see them start without the king, although hearing about his condition perhaps the journey to the throne was too much for him.

He sat on the Iron throne as he finished before resuming. “The Crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon.”

He motioned for the older man to step forward and you watched as the younger Prince took a deep breath to steady himself as Vaemond shot him a nasty glare.

“My queen.” He bowed his head to the Hand's daughter. Before turning to him. “My lord Hand.”

“The history of our noble houses extends beyond the seven kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria.” You furrowed your brow at that as the Hightowers had no Valyrian blood before remembering that it was to House Targaryen Vaemond was supposedly speaking too.

“For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas.”

You looked at the Greens again as Vaemond spoke about the history of their houses and was surprised to see Prince Aemond’s gaze still on you. Before you could look away from him he gave you a wide smile that made you feel like your skin was crawling. The glint in his lone eye seemed more dangerous than kind.

Cregan nudged you slightly before turning your attention back to the matter at hand, his gaze also directed at Prince Aemond before returning to you with a sigh.

“The true unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins.” You froze at those words. Vaemond was venturing into dangerous territory.

“As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon.” The Princess cut in pointedly. “If you cared so much about your house’s blood Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold to supplant its rightful heir.” She scoffed before digging back into the man with her words. “No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition.”

“You will have the chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra.” The Queen spoke sternly. “Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.”

Vaemond gave the Princess a smug grin as he resumed his speech. “What do you know of Velaryon blood, princess?” He held out his arm mockingly. “I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn’t recognize it.”

You rolled your eyes at that. Probably because all people Targaryen and Velaryon alike bled red and not with the signal of their house plastered on it.

“This is about the future and survival of my great house, not yours.” Vaemond looked at each of the great Lords imploringly before respectfully bowing to the Queen and the hand.

“My queen, my lord hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition.” Cregan huffed slightly besides you which caused you to bite back your own laugh. Your father had been right about King’s Landing being full of sycophants and ambitious second sons claiming that their reach for power was honor instead of deception.

“I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother’s successor… the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.”

“Thank you, Ser Vaemond.” The hand spoke. And you were glad that his long winded speech was finally over.

“Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son Lucerys Velaryon.”

The Princess nodded and refused to look the Queen in the eye as she stepped forward acting exasperated with the idea of this gathering.

“If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this very-“

The Princess was cut off by the heavy doors to the throne room opening with a screech.

There were gasps and whispers as the king hobbled into view flanked by two kings guard.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the first of his name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of the Seven kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” The whole court bowed as varying degrees of realization occurred with you and your brother leading the way.

When you glanced back at the Princess you saw the hand scrambling to leave the Iron Throne in the background.

The room was deathly silent as he staggered slowly down the stairs to the throne. It seemed as if the rumors of his health failing were true as his progress was slow and breathing haggard.

As the king passed Princess Rhaenys, she looked at him in shock and sadness as many of the Blacks did, apparently not realizing the severity of his illness.

“I will sit the throne today.” He spoke to the Hand before groaning in pain but still continuing up the stairs and waving off his king guard's attempts to aid him.

As if in slow motion you watched as the crown from his head fell onto the floor with a loud clatter before another hand picked it up. His younger brother’s hand.

The king seemed to try to wave the younger man off before finally relenting and allowed himself to be helped into the throne before Prince Daemon placed the crown on his head once more.

As Prince Daemon returned to his wife’s side the king sat up and spoke. “I must admit my confusion…” He huffed heavily with every few words.

“I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present who might offer keener insight into Lord Corly’s wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.”

The whole court turned to look at the woman and whispers started up again that you could not decipher from your position.

“Indeed, your Grace.” The older Princess spoke calmly and strode into the center of the room. You were surprised that the woman had not been called upon sooner being the Lord’s wife. “It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his true born son Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him.”

Vaemond’s gaze on the Princess was murderous as she finished and your older brother nodded in approval.

You stole a quick glance at Prince Jacaerys and saw him giving his brother a supportive smile. You felt your cheeks blush as he glanced back at you again and your eyes met briefly before the older Princess continued.

“As a matter of fact the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her son Luke to Lord Corlys’s granddaughter Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.” The other Targaryen next to Prince Lucerys held his hand at that. And you had to stifle your laughter as the Hand and the Queen wore a look of utter defeat.

“Well… the matter is settled. Again.” The king spat out that last word exasperatedly as if there was never any question to how this matter would end. “I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.”

The Princess Rhaenyra placed her hand on her younger son’s shoulder before Ser Vaemond angrily strode forward. “You break law and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No.”

Your older brother sighed at his outburst. “He doesn’t know when to quit does he?” He whispered to you under his breath.

“Apparently not.” You replied watching the grown man throw a fit.

“I will not allow it.”

“Allow it?” The king rasped out irritated at the outburst. “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

“No.” The man spoke passionately before whirling to point at the young boy. “That is no true Velaryon!” He yelled, loud enough to make the boy flinch. “And certainly is no nephew of mine.”

“Go to your chambers, you have said enough.” The Princess Rhaenyra scolded him, but provided the man with a way out of the hole he had thrown himself into. A way that he steadily ignored.

“Lucerys is my true-born grandson.” The king cut in. “And you are no more than the second son of Driftmark.”

You and your brother exchanged a knowing glance at his words and you tried to convey your thoughts to him. ‘Always the second son isn’t it?’

Your brother shook his head and gave you a quick smirk.

“You may run your house as you see fit…” Ser Vaemond clenched his hands in front of him similar to the way your two year old nephew did whenever he was pouting. “But you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides. And gods be damned I will not see it ended on the account of this…” Vaemond swallowed angrily as if determining whether or not to proceed.

“Her children…” He spoke softly before yelling again. “ARE BASTARDS! And she…” He pointed at Princess Rhaenyra with a knowing grin. “Is… a whore.”

Your eyes widened at that and instinctively grabbed Cregan’s arm. Vaemond Velaryon had dug his own grave with those words. Scanning the room to see the reactions you looked the One Eye Prince once more and was relieved that his gaze was no longer trained on you but on his young nephew with a shit eating grin.

The King flew from the Throne with a strength you didn't know he had in him and unsheathed a dagger on his hip. “I will have your tongue for that!”

But before he could advance on the man a swishing sound was heard followed by gasps and a scream or two as Prince Daemon sliced Vaemond’s head cleanly in two. You felt Cregan pull you behind him instinctively before the act had been done and gasped along with the rest of the crowd.

“He can keep his tongue.” The Rogue Prince said cheekily as he wiped off his sword and walked back to his wife.

There was a loud clatter of armor that rushed behind you as the king's guard rushed to aid the king who must have fallen back into the Throne.

“Call the maesters!” His wife released her daughter from her hold and ran to her husband as the unoccupied guards started to usher everyone besides the royal family from the room.

Cregan gripped your hand tightly as he dragged you from the room and only loosened his grip after you had exited the throne room and were halfway back to your chambers. “This is worse than I thought.” He shook his head before rubbing his face. “I should not have brought you here.” You followed him into his chambers as he paced around the room.

“Cregan, it is the best place for me to find a husband.” You said, trying to calm your brother down. “Perhaps it may be more bloody than I had expected it to be, but once this is over we can go home.” You grabbed him tightly by the shoulders as you spoke and dug your heels into the floor to stop his worried pacing.

“You don’t understand.” Cregan shook his head at you this time. “You are a Stark and I command an army of 45,000 men. A number that not even the crown could muster up. That many men would change the tide of a war, sister.”

“We are not yet at war, brother.” You reminded him softly. “The king is still alive.” For now.

“But not for much longer.” Cregan interrupted you, voicing your thoughts. “We both know that when King Viserys dies the Greens and the Blacks will both stake a claim to the throne and the ensuing war will be much more bloody than what we just witnessed. There is a reason both Targaryen princes have shown such an interest in you.”

You shivered at the thought of Aemond’s gaze but said nothing.

“The Greens believe that if you were to marry into their side that the North would follow.” Cregan broke apart from you softly and reached for a pitcher of wine.

“We would never support them.” You added in quickly. “Just as Lord Corlys made his wishes for succession clear, so too did the King. Our father took an oath-“

“One that I will uphold.” Your brother poured himself a glass of wine before filling another for you. “Even if he had not done so I would still support the Princess. She is objectively more level headed then Prince Aegon and would be a better ruler.” He handed you the glass to which you happily drank from.

“If we do not wish to be caught between the two factions how do we proceed?” You took a sip of the sweetened wine.

Your brother was silent for a moment, sipping his own drink thoughtfully. “It is too late for that to be avoided. We need to reaffirm our own loyalty to the Princess.” He said finally.

“And how do you suggest we do that?” You plopped into a nearby plush chair.

Cregan sat across from you and placed his glass on a nearby table looking at you with sadness in his eyes. “I hate that it has come to this, but there is no better gesture of loyalty than wedding one of our own to a member of the Blacks.” You blushed involuntarily as the image of Prince Jacaerys came to your mind.

“You expect me to ensnare the Prince?” You raised an eyebrow at that. Surely the attractive man had many beautiful suitors that would demand his attention.

“It does not have to be him.” Cregan shrugged. “But it does need to be to a house that sides with them. Lords Celtigar and Ser Davos Blackwood are unmarried and honorable men.”

You hummed at the thought before nodding slowly. “Then let’s go find me a husband.”

Divider by @saradika-graphics

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Petition Outfit

[lemon-natalia]

Harrow the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 52

Augustine & Mercy are having a very intense convo about how they just murdered GOD and are dooming themselves, and Gideon 1.0, Gideon 2: Electric Boogaloo, and Ianthe are just … standing there

oh shit and Dominicus is gonna die and become a black hole? i mean given there’s a whole other book not sure where this is gonna go, maybe he was lying to everyone about that as well?

when Ianthe of all people is the one advocating to try and save people out of the goodness of her heart, you know you’re fucked

‘Well, Augustine, there’s something you should know’ could someone please say something in this series that isn’t ridiculously cryptic. also i totally forgot this guy was wearing Gid’s sunglasses the whole time lol

OH WAIT THE BITCH IS BACK. i knew it was too good to be true 

also YIKES poor Mercy, she was not my favourite character but god she did not deserve that

also ah. hm. the above comment did not age well

oh this guys whole persona has just shifted. He’s still got that kinda irreverent jokiness & affability but he’s also evidently very pissed off, a lot less ‘lets have tea’ and more ‘do what i say or get fucked’

'then he looked at us, gave a crooked half smile’ ohhhh he has the same. fucking. crooked smile. that Gideon has in the BARI-star dream what the fuck

and he WAS the one who ordered Gideon-Part-1 to kill Harrow, for fucks sake. at least Harrow had Ortus be nice to her briefly cuz she’s three for three on her other parental figures trying to kill her at some point 

Gideon found out her bio dad is GOD, saw him die, saw him come back to live naked, and now found out he tried to kill her (kinda maybe its complicated) girlfriend. thats just ... so many different levels of traumatising

also i keep forgetting Gideon is literally looking like Harrow for all of this

GIDEON 1.0 ISN’T GIDEON, ITS PYRRHA DVE HIS CAV?!?!? yknow what so much else is going on rn i barely have the capacity to process that

and she was also sleeping with Commander Wake, was everyone just fucking eachother????? and i thought the love quadrangle in the last book was complicated. i’m guessing she shot Wake to stop her from potentially revealing the whole ‘i’m actually alive’ thing to the Emperor then?

also wow there’s a lot of consent issues being raised in the last couple chapters and this one, not just with dios apate major, but also like … you’re having sex with someone while possessing someone else’s body without their knowledge, but also also its the only body you have because they (presumably) killed you to absorb your soul. like what.

the drama and vast existential horror of this scene is only mildly undercut by the fact that the Emperor is having this crazy fight wearing only what is essentially an opalescent bathrobe

also why are there fucking TEETH at the bottom of the River? and Tongues?? and it thinks he’s a Resurrection Beast? i feel like there’s so much more to the River that we haven’t uncovered yet

and Augustine wasn’t wrong with what he said wayy before, the Emperor really did grant him more leniency than he did Mercy, at least he gave him a chance before murdering him

also cmon Ianthe you’re really gonna save that guy, really?

'Hands pressed. We died’ AGAIN?? i mean at least this time there’s a chance for her to come back given she’s done it once before?? also i do not know what to make of her seeing Alecto before she dies at all

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: i’m normally an islanders girly, but i have a soft spot for svech, especially after the horrible news of his acl injury 🥺 honestly have no idea where this came from except i saw one of @ryanpulock ‘s anons mention taking care of svech after an injury, so here we go! entirely unedited because i hate rereading my own work lol

tw: smut, gratuitous and potentially wrong use of russian terms of endearment

summary: you want to take care of andrei a little after he gets a cut on his thigh.

The text from Jordan - “Don’t worry, he’s fine” - would be concerning on it’s own, but when it’s followed-up approximately ten minutes later with a text from Andrei - “Don’t worry, I am fine” - you’re heading quickly into a panicky state. Ignoring the fact that you’re out with friends, you open up Twitter and navigate to the Canes’ hashtag, scrolling anxiously until you spot the familiar last name.

A tweet from Cory Lavalette: Svechnikov is down and hurt.

Another one from Cory: Svechnikov did the splits while getting checked and was holding his left inner thigh.

Three minutes later: Further review, it looks like Kevin Hayes' skate caught Svechnikov in the thigh.

You feel like you might throw up. A cut from a skate blade is no joke. Depending on where on his thigh the blade caught him - you force yourself to stop that line of thinking and keep scrolling, breathing a sigh of relief when you see that Andrei was back on the ice a minute or so later. It’s solidly thirty minutes after the game’s ended (you didn’t realize it had gotten so late!), so he must be okay, if his and Jordan’s texts are the only ones about the whole thing. “Sorry, guys,” you sigh, gathering your jacket and purse, pushing away from the table. “I have to go. Just Venmo request me what I owe.”

Your best friend looks up, surprised, but then after she checks her phone, a sly grin stretches across her face and she teases, “going to get the benefits of those post-game endorphins?”

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” you smirk, trying to hide your anxiety and worry about Andrei.

That gets the whole table jeering and heckling you, with your best friend laughing and proclaiming, “you’re sure as hell not a lady. Or do I need to bring out the keg stand video again?”

Waving her off with a snort of laughter and a vaguely rude gesture, you head for the door, blowing a kiss and slipping your arms into your jacket. The sounds of your friends’ voices follow you out of the restaurant, finally quieting once the door shuts behind you. You suck in a shaky breath, closing your eyes briefly. He’s fine - Jordan said so and Jordan wouldn’t lie about something like this. Even still, you’re nervous for the entire fifteen minute drive back to yours and Andrei’s apartment.

“Drei?” You call out his name when you push open the front door, kicking off your boots and dropping your house keys in the little bowl on the front hall table.

“In here,” his deep, accented voice echoes from the back of the apartment - your bedroom.

Shedding your jacket and draping it and your purse over the back of the couch - a bad habit that you’ve been trying to kick - you hurry down the hall towards him, needing to see him in one piece.

You freeze in the doorway when you finally lay eyes on him. He’s stretched out on the king-sized bed, shirtless and damp from his shower, clad only in a pair of tight black boxer-briefs. His legs are stretched out in front of him and he’s got one hand tucked behind his head, making his tricep bulge.

“Damn,” you mutter. It’s unfair how good-looking he is. And then your gaze lights on the thick white bandage wrapped around his left thigh, making the well-muscled bulk look even thicker. For some reason, the sight of the bandage makes his injury all the more real and tears prick at your eyes. “Andrei…” you whisper his name, hand pressing against your mouth to keep your emotions inside.

He shakes his head and smiles a little at you, a shadow of his dimple popping out on his cheek. “Ah, solnyshka, I’m fine. Just small scratch,” he says, voice warm and soaking over you like a blanket.

“But you got cut with a skate blade! A really sharp skate blade!” Your voice cracks a little. “It could’ve been really bad.”

Andrei gestures you forward with one hand and you obey instantly, not even thinking about it. His hand is warm on your wrist and he lifts your hand to his mouth to press a kiss to your palm. Your knees tremble. “But it was not,” he mumbles against your palm. “A few stitches, a bandage, and I’m good as new.”

“Stitches?” Your eyebrows lift and you look down at the bandage as if you’ve developed x-ray vision in the last thirty seconds.

“Two, three maybe. It is nothing,” he tugs at your wrist again, the dimple deepening on his cheek. His eyes twinkle. “But I think maybe I’m going to need a nurse to bring me back to 100%.”

His voice is low and you look up at his face, taking in the slow smirk that’s forming. “Oh a nurse, huh?” you murmur, warmth flooding your stomach from the way he’s looking at you.

“Mhm,” he hums, a deep rumble in his chest. His thumb is tracing an arc over your wrist, liquid heat crawling through your veins. “Now that I think about it, maybe it does hurt a little,” his lower lip pokes out in a small pout.

“Poor baby,” you whisper, licking your lower lip. Your throat feels dry. “I’ll have to be very gentle…”

Andrei’s eyes are dark, the tips of his ears are growing pink, and you can see the bulge in his boxer-briefs practically growing by the second. “What if I am a bad patient?” He lifts one eyebrow. “Will you be gentle then?”

You giggle. “Now, Mister Svechnikov, I know you can behave,” you dart forward and ghost a kiss over his lips. “When you want to.”

He tries to pull you down onto the bed, but you dance away quickly. “Solnyshka,” he pouts, “I’m not supposed to move. You have to come to me.”

“Let me change,” you reply, already pulling your sweater over your head. “These clothes are dirty.” The sweater gets tossed onto the chair in the corner and you kick off your jeans, leaning one knee on the bed. Andrei’s hands reach for you, the right one close enough to rest on your hip. He slides warm fingers around the curve of your ass and tries to pull you closer.

“Please,” he says. His accent is thick, vibrating around your brain and melting your heart. You love his voice. “I will be a good patient, I promise.”

You crawl closer to him, both of his hands on your hips now. One thick finger brushes under the waistband of your panties, sending a shiver down your spine. “Well, if you promise….” you trail off, dipping your head to press a kiss to inside of his bicep. One of your hands rests on his knee, fingers brushing over warm skin. He twitches, a little ticklish at your light touch. You grin at him, dragging your fingertips up the inside of his good thigh. The hair on his leg raises with goosebumps and the bulge of his cock grows. “You relax,” you murmur, “let me do the work.”

With a groan, Andrei drops back against the pillows he had propped behind his back, watching you with blown pupils as you climb in between his legs. He widens the space, offering you room to work. You lean back on your thighs, resting your hands lightly on Andrei’s shins. “You’ve got to tell me if you start hurting or it’s uncomfortable, okay?” you say, massaging your fingers into his calves. “I don’t want you to get hurt even more.”

“Maylshka,” Andrei groans the term of endearment, his hand stroking at himself through the fabric of his boxer-briefs, “you’re hurting me more by taking so much time.”

A snort of laughter leaves your nose involuntarily and you scoot up the bed, scraping your nails over his legs. “So impatient,” you mutter affectionately, a weird twist in your stomach when your gaze lands on the bandage again. A reminder that he was hurt. That it could’ve been more serious. Swallowing heavily, you duck your head and press a kiss to the inside of his right knee, scraping teeth over skin as you move up his inner thigh, kissing and biting gently as you go.

Andrei shifts under you, the bed dipping and swaying as he adjusts. One of his large hands twist in your hair, tangling the strands between his fingers and tugging, just this side of painful. The other hand bumps against the top of your head as he wraps it around his growing cock, stroking himself firmly. The steady movement of his hand makes his body move, in turn making your own body jostle. You bite into the corded muscle of his inner thigh and Andrei hisses, hand jerking out of rhythm.

“I thought I was taking care of you?” you mumble against his heated skin, leaning back and angling so your shoulder doesn’t bump against his wrapped thigh. Your fingers curl in the waistband of his underwear, the fabric already stretched to its limits between Andrei’s hand and erection. “You can take care of yourself on the road.”

His voice is raspy when he replies, “just helping you along, malyshka. Don’t want you to get tired.” He groans when you slide your hand over his and squeeze.

“I’m wide awake, Drei,” you murmur, knocking his hand aside and replacing it with your own. He’s hot and hard in your hand, a familiar weight. Your thumb brushes over the red, weeping tip of him and his hips buck involuntarily. A slow smirk spreads across your lips. Before you can bend your head, Andrei uses the hand that’s still tangled in your hand to force your face up to his. He cups your chin in his free hand and slants his lips over yours in a hungry kiss. You return it in kind, leaning into him, enjoying the groan he lets loose into your mouth when your hand twists around his cock.

He pulls back from the kiss, dropping his head against the headboard with a thunk. “I want to flip you over on your back and make you come until you cry,” he mutters, stretching out his left leg a little.

You laugh and kiss the side of his neck, licking at a bead of water that’s dripped down from his hair. He shivers. “Give yourself a little time to heal and then you can have me any way you want,” you promise. “Just let me take care of you tonight.”

Without giving him a chance to answer, you slide down his body, pressing soft kisses to his chest as you go and flicking one flat nipple with your tongue, drawing a strained laugh from Andrei’s throat. He murmurs your name and you kiss his stomach, just under his belly button, “lift,” you command, hooking your fingers in the elastic waist of his underwear and tugging them down. His erection jumps free, curving up to his stomach, thick and red and waiting for you. Your mouth waters at the sight of him and you dart your tongue out and lick the tip of him delicately.

“Fuck!” he curses, hand tightening in your hair. You press down on his good thigh with your free hand to keep him in place, not that you have a chance in hell of holding Andrei down if he really wants to move. But your fingers curl against his skin and you take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks. The head of his cock bumps against the roof of your mouth and you shift on your knees to change the angle, taking him deeper. Andrei groans and moans above you, vocalizing his approval. He’s too big to take all of him in your mouth, so you wrap your hand around the remaining inches and squeeze, knowing he loves the pressure. His hand pushes your face down and your nose bumps his lower stomach. His hold on your head is loose though, and you could pull back if you wanted. You don’t want to.

Bracing yourself on his thigh, you lean forward, taking him deeper. Spit dribbles out of your mouth, making a mess of Andrei and the sheets below him. He bucks his hips, trying to restrain himself so he doesn’t hurt you, but when you him around him, flattening your tongue against the underside of his cock, he shouts and pushes further down your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. You breathe sharply through your nose, trying to stave off a gag, and inhale Andrei’s familiar musk mixed with the lavender-citrus body wash you’d bought for yourself but had been sneakily stolen by your boyfriend. You press your thighs together, pressure to help the throbbing between your legs. Andrei moves, like he wants to reach down and touch you, but you squeak a little when your head gets trapped between his pelvis and his stomach.

“Sorry,” he rumbles, “sorry.” His free hand strokes at your cheeks, your forehead, the back of your neck, and you shiver. You him around him again, sucking hard. Andrei groans your name, barely resisting the urge to thrust into your mouth. You encourage him, squeezing his shaft.

He tenses under your touch and comes in your mouth with a shouted string of Russian curses. You swallow quickly, a little overwhelmed, and Andrei’s grip on your hair loosens. He looks down at you with glazed eyes as you release him with a wet pop. a string of saliva connects your lips and his softening cock and you swipe at it quickly. “You are….” he mumbles, chuckling, speechless.

“I know,” you grin at him, wiping at the corners of your mouth. You wiggle up the mattress, rest your wrists on his shoulders, and kiss him sweetly. Andrei’s hands are heavy on your hips, sliding down the curve of your ass.

He yawns a little, blushing and mumbling an apology. “It’s not you,” he rushes to say and you giggle, kissing his cheek.

“You’ve had a long day, baby,” you reply, sliding out from between his legs and climbing off the bed. “Get comfy, I’m going to shower really quick and rinse the day off.”

Andrei catches your hand as you turn for the bathroom, a pout on his lips and a furrow between his brows. “But I didn’t get to have my way way you,” he whines.

“Tomorrow, big boy,” you promise, ignoring the throbbing between your legs. “I wanted to take care of you tonight.” You slip from his grip and dance off to the bathroom, loving that he wants to make sure you’re satisfied too. You take the world’s shortest shower, soaping up and shampooing in record time. You skip conditioner, willing to pay the price of slightly dry hair in order to cuddle with Andrei sooner.

By the time you pad back into the bedroom, clad in one of Andrei’s old shirts, he’s flat on his back, eye shut, and snoring softly. You smile softly at him, heart filling with even more love for your boyfriend. He looks even younger when he’s sleeping. Carefully, you climb into bed and tuck yourself against Andrei’s right side. His mouth hangs open a bit and his left arm is thrown over his forehead. As soon as you touch his side, he stirs a little, blinking and scrunching his face. “Mmm,” he hums, wrapping his arm around your back and pulling you close. You go easily, draping your arm over his stomach and resting your head on his chest.

“Night, Drei,” you whisper, brushing your nose against his skin.

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” he mumbles, breathing evening out again.

When you wake up in the morning, Andrei’s head is pillowed on your chest and he has both arms wrapped around you, holding you like a teddy bear. You blink sleepily and rest your cheek against the top of his head. Your legs are tangled with his, the bandage brushing against your thigh. You comb your fingers through Andrei’s hair gently, easing him awake.

“Hi, sleeping beauty,” you giggle as he blinks awake.

“Ditto,” Andrei says, voice hoarse with sleep. He buries his face into your chest. “Stay in bed.”

“I wish, but someone has to work so we can afford this life we’ve become accustomed to,” you joke, laughing even harder when Andrei’s fingers dig into your side, tickling you now that he’s wide awake.

This is absolutely your favorite way to wake up.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 12

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

Heading into chapter 12!

It's been an absolute day at work, but I got to do a lovely walk with a friend afterwards AND Charlie decided to grace us with his presence (very briefly for head pats).

Tea today is peppermint! Dinner break midway through this little chapter was congee and I was very pleased with it- photo further down lol.

Let's get into it!

OMG I knew that the Dew Lake snake man would be back! I did not think they'd be here as a "handsome young man" though. I fear that Shen Qingqiu is absolutely fucked LOL. p265

oof. and now I feel like we are entering the territory for daddy issues. We have Luo Binghe's father's right hand man introduced pp266-267

Well. at least if he is likely going to suffer, the plot holes will be filled. thank you system for the points. p267

wait. Could Zhuzhi-lang be an ally? or will this guy brutally die later? (do not actually tell me this, I'm just planting my speculations). my thoughts are he could be an ally because SQQ DID save him and give him an unexpected boon by mushroom bod. but also, if Luo Binghe see's SQQ being close to another demon that man will surely murder the other demon. p268

WHY SO MANY SNAKES??? I hate that so much! p270

All I'm seeing from SQQ is kink shaming. This guy has got to stop yucking other's yums. First with the necrophilia now he's anti demons fucking snakes. it's the panicked "way too fucking hardcore" for me p271

SQQ: can you handle the snakes pls? Zhuzhi-Lang: nah they like you. p272

okay, but why is he asking for women? is it to do with the snakes? or is it because he is having a sexual crisis and needs to reassure himself?? p273

they're really going to this brothel? p274

LOL even the brothel ladies sing (very uncomfortable but I guess they enjoy it) love songs about Luo Binghe and SQQ's tragic love story p276

AHAHAHAHA SQQ's "summary" of their story on page 277 has me absolutely dying XD

Ah! that's why the women and the brothel -> the wine! p278

Cultivation wise I do really love that SQQ can just pick up any fan and start cultivating. that is honestly the coolest part of his cultivation. I love it so much. p279

LOL he really just made the snake pass out, rented a sword (idfk WHEN but he did) and dipped from the entire situation. p281

SQQ: this is a later problem, byyyyeeeeeeee.

I stated I would have congee pic earlier and here is me delivering on that. It's pork congee with eggs, tofu, pork, green onions and an ungodly amount of chili crisp.

I'm slowly turning this chapter-by-chapter read into a stay at home mom's recipe blog. I am not sorry.

That's a wrap for chapter 12!

Okay so thankfully nothing terribly tragic happened this chapter. It does feel like a big set up though so I am a little nervous about that.

AND. He still has all of this demon blood in him so he really is fucked. He may have escaped for the moment but I see all of the demons coming back for him.

We'll see what happens next chapter!

[iheartjohnlennon]

hii, can you write Mick Jagger x famous fashion designer!female reader in which he irritates and begs her to design and sew Bianca's wedding dress until she accepts but then they often have sex and make out during "creative discussions" and when the dress is finally ready they kind of end up getting married instead? with THE dress.

Is it considered steal the groom if the groom himself takes the initiative to exchange the bride? lol this is kind of fucked up and I'm going to feel bad for Bianca but I think it's something Mick would definitely have the nerve to do. I honestly think it would be one of Rock's most tragicomic and iconic stories if it had happened.

I hope you see the appeal as I did, but feel free to ignore it if that's not your cup of tea. LOVE <3

'Luna, amore e no'

London, early '71

Tags: Infidelity, Smut, Orgasm, Emotional Conflict, Resolved Sexual Tension

A Saturday night in Chelsea

The boutique was adorned with fabrics that were shades and tones of purple, pink and white. Delicate mannequins were draped in her coquettish designs, and a scent of perfume filled the space.

It was a haven she had beautifully thought up for herself, and the thought had managed to garner her acclaimed and revered attention.

This shop in Chelsea was particularly popular, but now there was a quiet stillness of the Saturday evening, and it was a welcome change from the bustle of London during the daytime.

The clock struck 9 PM when Y/N entered the boutique, her sketchbook clutched in hand.

Her footsteps echoed through the front room and into the retail area before she entered her beloved office.

She shed her coat and placed her sketchbook down. She was about to settle into her desk chair with a few of her textiles in hand when she heard it ring.

 "Oh, Christ."

She threw down her silks and needles onto the nearby couch. The telephone had begun ringing, and she knew it was going to continue incessantly. She also knew it was going to do her head in.

She toyed with the idea of ignoring it, or perhaps letting it ring a little longer. Maybe he'd give up. But it persisted, each chime a reminder of his stupid determination. The reason why she lingered to pick up, was because she knew exactly who was calling, and why he was calling.

Although his want was clear the first time they very briefly spoke on the phone, he wanted more than that, and that loosely intrigued her.

Mick had strategically been ringing every Saturday when he could. It was a way to let her know he wasn't going to let her get away easily, not without having some part of her. She sighed into her seat and focused on her book, flicking through concepts and sketches.

"Fucking hell, it's like clockwork for him."

Her patience had quickly worn thin and she leaned forward, her fingers navigated the rotary dial. The ringing had finally ceased, replaced by a muffled dialogue.

The phone's receiver, cool against her palm, spoke to her. 

"Evening darling."

"Hello."

"Ah, Y/N, always a pleasure to hear your voice."

She was taken aback, yet swiftly regained her composure and brushed off his subtle flirt.

"What is it that you want, Mr Jagger?"

Mick's voice was ribbon and it flowed into one ear and right out of the other.

"Well, I was hoping for a chat with the most sought-after woman in London."

She couldn't suppress a scoff. 

"Yes, yes, yes, of course, but what is it that you want?" She pressed dismissively.

"I want the pleasure of your company."

Y/N's brow quirked, feeling an incredulity.

"Company? Mr Jagger, we haven't even agreed to a meeting."

Mick was unfazed and pushed on.

"Well, Bianca adores your work, you know. She'd be over the moon to have you design for her."

She tutted, "Oh, how touching. I'm sure she would."

"You really should give her the wedding dress she deserves, Y/N. I promise you won't regret it."

Y/N's breath hitched, caught off guard by the sweet audacity of his words. He was, after all, soon to be wedded.

"I'm sure Bianca would be thrilled to hear you're so invested in her gown."

Mick chuckled.

"Well, she deserves nothing but the best, and you, you are the best."

"Do you have a penchant for dresses, Mick?" She teased.

His response was swift and sincere.

"I have a penchant for the woman making the dresses."

She giggled, unable to stifle the sound. His persistence was both exasperating and endearing.

Mick was still adamant.

"You're the perfect designer for this, Y/N. Please, just give me- us a chance."

"Mhm."

Mick had to find more fuel, any excuse or plea to see her. 

"She's genuinely taken with your talent, Y/N. You're the only one she trusts for this."

Her resolve wavered, swayed by his flattery. With a soft sigh, she relented.

"Fine, fine. We'll meet."

He wasted no time in setting a date. "Yes, next Friday evening, preferably when we have the place to ourselves?"

"Ooh, just us, then?" She teased.

"I'd like that." He answered without hesitation.

She raised an eyebrow.

Mick's confidence remained unshaken.

"Regardless, love, I'll be waiting eagerly for our meeting, next Friday.

"Fine, next Friday it is."

She scrawled the date on a notepad, it was a flimsy agreement.

"I can't wait to see you, Y/N."

See he said. Why not meet? This was only business after all. 

"Likewise, Mick, likewise."

"Y/N, you're a gem, you know that?"

"Oh, don't let this get to your head, Jagger. It's just a design."

"Just a design? This is Bianca's dream we're talking about!"

"Well, I wouldn't ever dream of standing in the way of your wedding would I?"

"And I wouldn't dream of keeping you waiting."

He had said that suggestively, although she didn't want to see it that way.

"Good. I have a reputation to uphold, after all, you know."

"And what a reputation it is."

She smiled and decided to cut his unwavering flattery short, "Goodbye, Mick."

"Goodbye, Y/N."

When Mick heard the click of the phone, it was a call back to reality, and that reality was enticing.

    *

The Friday

The door chimed and Y/N was standing poised near the entrance for him. Mick wasn't alone. He had brought a photographer with him by the looks of it, and he seemed eager to capture every moment of this collaboration.

There was an attraction between them as they stood close.

He immediately extended his hand, the gesture was as smooth and as handsome as the man himself.

Mick's eyes traced the contours of her form. He wasn't one for simple impressions and wanted her to know he was intrigued.

"Mick." She greeted simply. 

"Y/N, it's a pleasure."

He pulled her hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to her knuckles.

She cleared her throat, regaining her composure.

"Likewise. How have you been?"

"Nervous, very nervous, but I have faith in your talents, love."

"As you should." She said snarkily.

"You look even better in person, if that's possible."

"Oh. Thank you."

The unexpected compliment hung in the air, and a charged pause settled between them.

Her eyes flitted to her watch, cautious of time, even though they had lots of it.

"Well, Mick, you know it's bad luck for the groom to get too close to the dress before the wedding. You might have to stay away from me." She joked. 

He smiled, and with that, Y/N turned, beckoning him to follow her to an office.

She couldn't shake the feeling of Mick's eyes being all over her.

When the door closed, the air seemed to shift. They were in a smaller more intimate space.

Mick settled into a plush chair, and his thoughts were consumed by the captivating designer who had finally walked into his life. She'd been in many other lives, whether through a purchase or a fling, but he was glad it was his turn now.

She cast a glance back at him as she ruffled through, "Make yourself comfortable, Mick."

Y/N bent over her desk as she rifled through the drawers. Mick watched her with an almost fascination. To him, she was a marvel, an artist in her element. Each motion seemed to carry a kind of ethereal grace that held him in attention.

With everything she needed gathered in her arms, she approached him and sat on the arm of the chair.

Y/N reached for a glass of wine, preparing for the storm that was going to be this wedding.

"So, what's on your mind, then?" She asked casually, taking a slow sip.

His eyes wandered over the sketches but he didn't seem to be all that interested, he seemed bored.

"This silhouette here." He pointed to a sketch of something puffy, and she thought that it didn't suit Bianca's figure. She also thought it seemed inappropriate to be chatting about the bride's dress with the groom, but whatever. 

"How about this one, here instead?" Y/N flicked to a page of things more form-fitting and flat.

Mick's eyes looked to a particular design on the page, another choice that seemed miles away from Bianca's taste. "This one," he mused, his finger tapping the paper. "It's got a flair, a vibrancy. What do you think?"

She sighed and looked down at him, he had a stupid smile on his face, he'd had it since he had walked in.

"I think you're very distracted, Mick."

He let out a hearty laugh and swiftly took her cup of wine.

"What do you mean, darling?" he quipped, trying to sound innocent, though the cheekiness in his tone betrayed him.

With a sigh, Y/N stood up and carefully arranged everything on her rug.

She slipped off her shoes to get comfortable on the floor and undid the top button of her blouse. 

"Come here, Mick." She gestured for Mick to join her, her voice was warm and inviting to him.

She looked sultry sitting on her rug, and he wondered if she was making an innuendo for them to shag on the floor or something.

Everything was spread out before them. Y/N's patience wore thin and she implored for the final time, "Are you going to be serious this time?"

"Hm..." He said childishly. 

 "No, Mick," she insisted, her voice firm. "Answer the question. Are you going to be serious this time?"

He relented, only because he liked her demand.

"Alright, I'll be serious," he declared, his arm moving to encircle her waist.

She removed his arm and shifted, settling on her knees. 

Mick shifted his position to mirror hers. He sat on his knees, somewhat determined to focus. 

"Thank you, Mick. Now, a pattern, any pattern you can think of." 

"Something floral, understated but not dull, you know?"

She nodded resolutely and wrote notes whilst drawing little concepts beside them. Mick was watching in awe, she couldn't place why, this was the most boring part of it.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you since I got engaged. I'm enamoured with your work, you know." He confessed. 

Why did he have to say since he got engaged, it sounded like he was expressing his love for her over Bianca, and she dreaded that thought. 

"What do you mean?" She asked, timid. 

"You're my favourite designer, Y/N. There's no one better."

She tutted and shook her head, "Oh, come now. I'm sure there are better." 

"Nah, I'm convinced you're a creative genius." Mick giggled. 

"And I'm convinced you have a way with words." She deadpanned. 

"Trust me, Y/N. You're my favourite."  

"Right. Well, let's discuss the dress. What colour are you envisioning?" 

She changed the subject, fearing that what she thought Mick was thinking would materialise. 

"How about orange?" 

"Orange?" 

"Yeah, why not?" He said sarcastically. 

"Stop it now." 

"Alright, alright, obviously white."

"Obviously, but what shade of white?"

"Dunno, suppose you'll have to surprise her." 

"Okay." She groaned and rightfully decided she wasn't going to ask Mick for anything, ever. 

She leaned over him to grab something, and his arm once again found its way around her waist, an intimate hold, like he was trying to show affection. It was a move that was becoming all too familiar, and she didn't like that. 

"Come on, Mick," Y/N sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "What are you doing?"

Mick didn't want to beat around the bush, not with her.

"This is getting a bit dull, don't you think, love?" he suggested.

Y/N's brow furrowed in disbelief, struggling to keep up with the sudden turn of events. "What's gotten into you?"

"You haven't caught on yet?" he teased.

She mustered a shaky breath, "I did, but I was hoping you'd spare us both the bloody trouble."

"I haven't even scratched the surface, love."

His arm was still around her waist, so he pulled her closer until they were nose-to-nose. 

He closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers in a hard kiss.

Y/N moved back abruptly, her disgust palpable. "You've lost your mind, Mick. You're engaged, and I'm designing her dress. This is sick- you are sick."

He shrugged.

"Well, she's not the one, love. Not by a long shot."

"Then who is?" 

Before she could process the weight of her own question, Mick kissed her. He started it soft. There was a gentle brush of lips, a mingling of breath. His arms circled her waist and as the kiss deepened, so did the intensity. Their tongues swirled together, tasting the wine they shared. The world outside seemed to blur, leaving only the spontaneous connection between them.

Y/N's hand remained on Mick's chest, her fingers curling against the fabric, her voice barely above a mumble as she uttered his name. Still, he didn't stop. Instead, he kissed her deeper, his hand moving to grab her bottom.

They both pulled away at the same time, their breaths mingling in the charged air. Mick's eyes held a mixture of desire and uncertainty as he looked at her. 

He cleared his throat, "Should we stay here on the floor, or find a more comfortable spot?" 

Mick was very confident, so confident he didn't bother to use perception, though he didn't need to in this circumstance. 

"A couch sounds nice," she replied, mischief in her eyes. 

They untangled themselves, their movements carried a sensuous grace. Making their way to the nearby couch on the other side of the room, the atmosphere seemed to thicken, the unspoken promise of what awaited them palpable in the air.

He took her by surprise, his hands pushed her forwards over the arm of the couch so she could be bent over for him. 

Mick pulled her closer, his hands moving down her body as he unzipped the back of her skirt and eased it off her hips. He sighed with as the fabric rustled around her ankles. He tugged on the waistband of her tights and dragged them to the floor.

"Do you feel me, hm?"

He pressed himself into her and it was teasing both of them.

She looked back at him, "I feel you.."

The sound of leather on metal clinked in her ears as he pulled the belt from its loops. His trousers were made into a pile around his ankles, leaving him with his boxers.

Mick held her hips and pressed himself against her, she could feel the warmth of his cock through the thin fabric of his underwear.

His hands found her panties, he pulled them to one side and he thrust harder, pushing his erection against her bare cunt.

"Mm, Mick."

He thrust two fingers into her eagerly, enjoying the sensation of her cunt clenching around them. She giggled at the sudden intrusion, and he pushed his fingers in and out of her faster, eager for more. He moved his fingers more vigorously as she became wetter.

He removed his fingers, and pulled off his boxers. His cock bounced free; he couldn't wait any longer to be inside of her. He stroked himself twice, savoring the feeling. The head of his hardness was tapped against her entrance, then slid inside of her, inch by inch. He lightly stretched her open, allowing himself to fully enter. He groaned when he filled her up completely, and only slowly moved in and out. 

He went from the tip of cock to the middle of his cock. She was so wet for him. He went balls deep a few times, light taps filled the room with each time he did so.

Her back arched as his dick slid in and out of her, the fuck was swift.

He drove into her with an intense passion. She looked back at him with wide eyes, a mix of pleasure and desperation.

Mick's thrusts were deep and unyielding, directly hitting her g-spot with every movement. Her walls clenched involuntarily as the sensation grew, seeming to never end.

Mick was getting close so he fucked into her harder. Her body slid back and forth beneath him, her stomach moving against the arm. She moved her hips back, urging him on.

"Fuck." He groaned.

He was getting close so he fucked into her harder. Her body slid back and forth beneath him, her stomach moving before the arm. The sensation of her warm skin made him shudder.

He pulled out just in time, his penis coated in sticky white fluid. She got up promptly to kiss him, excited.

Her lips clasped against his and for a moment it was as if no time had passed between them, but then she broke the seal of her mouth and trailed kisses down his chin and neck to his shoulder blade

They were giddy from their illicit activity, like teenagers sneaking away to do each other right under their parents' noses.

Well, it was under someone's nose.

[ughgoaway]

i feel like they would say i love you to each other quite fast after getting together in a cute casual domestic setting <3 <3 <3 like the one you described🥰

oooh interesting, see i couldn't decide whether it would be reasonably quick after they got together or a weirdly long time???

obviously, they're in love, but I'm not sure whether that means it's so important they need to say it NOW or whether it's just so obvious it remains unsaid. I am gonna discuss both scenarios so prepare for a ramble lol

okay lets say they say it fast; another cute domestic setting would be saying it after you look after Annie for the night. maybe he comes out to see his girls crashed on the sofa, one of those animated Barbie movies playing on the screen.

you wake up to matty stroking your head softly and just give him a sleepy grin. you strategically untangle from Annie and stand up to give him a hug.

"Hi baby," you mumble into his shoulder

"Hi sweetheart, how are my girls, hmm?" he says softly, hugging you and rubbing your back.

"Good. sleepy, obviously, but we enjoyed our little girl's night." You say, pulling back and wrapping your arms around mattys neck as his make their way to sit on your waist.

"Ah, did Annie do your nails like she wanted to?" matty asks, now fiddling with the hem of your shirt absentmindedly.

you bring one of your hands out from behind his head and flash your nails, "oh yes and I love them, very glittery" your hand goes back behind his neck but now sits at the base of his curls, gently scratching them in the way you know he loves.

matty throws his head back with a groan and shuts his eyes, "hmm well I love them. love you too." matty says, completely distracted by your warm hands massaging his scalp. you freeze briefly, but matty doesn't seem to notice what he's said, so you play along with a big grin in your face

"That's nice to hear baby. I love you too," you say confidently. You thought hearing it out loud would freak you out. especially considering you've only been together a few weeks, but this all felt so natural. and hearing matty say that just felt right.

he gets a dopey smile on his face, clearly not quite back in the world yet, and pulls you in for another hug. this time squeezing you and holding you especially close.

3 seconds into the hug, you feel him jolt, pull back and look at you with wide eyes.

"WAIT WHAT"

now, if it was a weirdly long time, I could see it happening at the studio.

its pretty fucking late and you've been there for a few hours hanging out with the boys but you can see matty and George getting frustrated by this song so you decide to give them some space.

you walk over and drop a kiss into mattys curls, and you feel his hand slip from his arm rest to your thigh, but his eyes stay laser focused on the computer screen.

"You going somewhere, baby?" he asks, still completely lost in the world of producing.

"Yeah, I'm going to leave you boys to it and go get some rest," you say, fiddling with some of Matty's curls, twiddling them around your finger.

"Okay, see you at home sweetheart," matty says, giving your thigh a squeeze before removing his hand and pressing seemingly random buttons on the keyboard.

"Bye, I love you," you say with a yawn, already walking away.

"Love you too!" matty shouts after you slightly turning his head, but his eyes stay fixed on his screen.

as the door clicks, matty nonchalantly goes back to working but sees George freeze out of the corner of his eye.

"Dude, just because y/n got to leave doesn't mean you do, get back to it," matty says, sighing and rubbing his eyes with his closed fists.

"When did that develop then, huh?" George asks, smirking and leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

matty paused and span to look at George with a confused face, "do you mean y/n? because if you do, im very confused about why you think she's been hanging around us for so long." he jokes.

"No, no. not y/n. the whole 'I love you' thing. First time I've heard you guys say it." George says, shrugging his shoulders and spinning back to the computer.

"Huh? we haven't said that yet. What do you mean?" matty says, yawning and stretching as best he can in his cramped chair.

george stops and turns to matty with a confused look on his face. "matty. she literally just left and said, 'i love you', and you said 'love you too'... don't tell me that was the first time you said it??" George is laughing at the absurdity of that idea, expecting matty to join in. but still, after a few seconds, matty stays silent.

george opens his eyes and sees matty blinking rapidly with his mouth open, "oh fuck." he says.

another beat passes before both men burst out laughing. A combination of the absurd situation, how long they've been awake, and the zoot they smoked earlier.

later matty comes home and immediately crawls into bed with you, you wake up and flip over cuddling into his chest and humming happily.

"hey babe, are you awake?" matty whispers, the slight anxiety in his voice woke you right up.

"yeah, is everything okay?" you say your voice heavy with sleep, you rest your chin on mattys chest and look up at him.

"You know earlier when you left?" matty pauses until you nod, indicating for him to continue, "well turns out we both said,'I love you' for the first time... and didn't notice. George pointed it out, " he said sheepishly, he raises his arm and placed his hand under his head whilst his other hand traced your bicep.

you blink hard a few times before simply going, "Oh," both you and matty look at each other before gently smiling.

you turn your head and settle back into his chest, "Well, I do love you, so that's good." You say stifling a yawn. matty feels you drifting off, your breathing evening out, and your eyelids fluttering.

"I love you too, now go to sleep darling," he says softly, feeling himself drift off as well. you nod as best you can into his chest before both of you fall asleep, a tangled mess of limbs under the duvet.

blurb masterlist for this au here :)