#I was to in the mood to toss it into the world to resist a flimsiest of reasons

[lanalace]

Encompassed [Yandere Gojo Satoru x Fem Reader]

Word count: 5k

Summary: You were never supposed to be an omega and so you decided not to be. As a result, you gained friend, freedom and a life of your own. Everything was going your way until you came face to face with the world's strongest sorcerer.

Chapter 1 - Encounter

“Oi! Y/n-chan!” Itadori yelled, waving to you from across the training grounds.

Y/n sat at the top of the cold stone staircase overlooking the field, looking up from the book in her hands, she spotted Yuji at the opposite end of the field with Nobara and Megumi. Grinning widely, you closed the book and stood up, raised an arm and waved back with the same amount of energy as Yuji.

“Itadori! Kugisaki! Fushiguro!” Y/n yelled.

You could see them smiling at you as they drew nearer. These were your new teammates. You have been working with them for about one month now and you all have gotten pretty close. ‘Well, Fushiguro was definitely a work in progress. Though, to be fair, I don’t think that anyone is actually close to him.’ You thought grimly to yourself as you walked down to greet them. Yuji was the first to greet you with both hands up. You smiled and jumped up to smack both of his hands with your own. It was the way you guys always greeted each other, always with a double hi-five. 

It was really funny how you guys started this routine, actually. It actually started because of a comment he made about how short you were in comparison to the other members of your team. You bristled at that claim and rebuttal that you were in fact plenty tall for your age.  You are 17 years old and still have a bit more time to grow. Itadori being Itadori raised his hand all the way up high as proof of your shortness, daring you to touch it if you were really as tall as you calmed. Of course you couldn’t reach so he decided to make it easier for you, first bringing his hand down to half of its original height next to his head as he goaded you to try hitting him again. But you were pouting at the failed first attempt so he brought another hand up to mirror his other and teased you more, telling you that it would be easier since you had two targets. Still pouting, you couldn’t resist and jump a bit to smack both of them. It made Itadori grin and he earnestly complemented you, lightening your sour mood at the time and you smiled at him.   

“Y/n-chan! Spar with me this time.” He begged with starry eyes.

“Sure.” You smiled at him gently, nodding in confirmation. You could hear Nobara in the background yelling at Itadori because she wanted to be your training partner for the day.

“Woo! Better luck next time, Kugisaki!” Itadori turned and snickered at her before facing you and getting into a fighting stance.

You giggled and shook your head at the pair. They were so silly and always behaved just like siblings. Focusing on the boy in front of you, you tossed your book aside and got into an offensive position.Without hesitation you struck your teammate first. He was caught off guard but managed to just barely block your right hook.

“Don’t look so shocked! You’re the one who wanted to spar but you’re not even paying attention.”  You followed up with a combo move that he easily blocked as well.

Yuji looked like he was serious now, determination shown on his face when he moved to strike back. You both traded blows with him at an impressive speed that your teammates could not match so they sat back and watched you both go at it. Neither one of you were getting the upper hand for very long in the battle but gosh, you were having so much fun! Yuji always gave you a good workout and it was always so exciting. 

You genuinely enjoyed a good fight even before presenting last year. As young as 5, your powers manifested and you were strong. Your parents had been beyond overjoyed when that happened. At such a young and with such raw power, you had such a bright future and you would elevate their social status in the Jujutsu world. So they trained you hard and when they had nothing left to teach you, they sent you here, to school with all of the other sorcerers. They just knew you would be an Alpha. Your overly confident and cocky personality was proof enough but coupled with the immense amount of curse energy you had, there’s no way you could be anything less than that and they treated you with the respect and hardness of one. You easily fell into your roll over the years and believe that you would be an alpha as well.

Your upbringing may have been a bit rougher than you cared to admit, you can’t say you hated all of it. After all, alpha’s didn’t complain so you wouldn’t. Besides, every moment was useful and prepared you for real field work. It gave you the awesome personality trait of being a shit talker. A privilege only allowed to the strong. You adored your parents and thrived under all of their attention so imagine your shock when your attentive parents showed nothing but disdain for your very existence when you finally presented. You were an omega and so they cut ties with you. Abandoning you to the Jujutsu school with nothing but your name and the things you came with. At the very least, you took solace in the fact that your parents never reported you. This small saving grace gave you time and you were grateful for that. You would never scorn your parents because you understood their position.

You were worthless to them now, something they’d have to give up one way or another because according to the law, your kind were to be taken to a secured Omega Center facility immediately after presenting. Whisked away from the outside world and its influences, where they could become easily indoctrinated into proper omega roles. Omega’s were nothing but property to in society.

’Disgusting.’

As an omega, you weren’t meant to fight. In fact, it was illegal for you to even attend this school. ‘But I love to fight and protect the innocent people who cannot fight for themselves.’ You weren’t meant to take risks. ‘But that is my job.’ You weren’t meant to have freedom and make friends with the opposite sex unless they were other omega’s. ‘I really like friends and my sensei. They treat me as an equal, as an individual. They never look down on me.’ You’d be locked away, stripped of everything that was ‘You’ and made to take a mate that would control your every step and force you to have a litter of kids. All that you could do- all you could ever measure up to be was a glorified breeding mare. You would have been a prize to be tamed and pumped full of babies. Nothing more, nothing less. 

‘That’s not the life that I want.’

Discarded and own your own, you unapologetically turned to drugs. Not some low quality trash that would harm you, but something more pure and refined to suit you specifically. Omega Pheromones Blockers or better known as OPB’s. But these were directly from a scientist you stumbled upon. You gave him a blood sample and he tailor made this for you. You thanked the heavens that you were trained to think quickly because the moment you were casted out, it took all but 10 minutes to devise a plan to stay under the radar. Lucky for you that your account was still accessible. You haven been on OPB’s for the last year and to the world, you were just a normal Beta female. Luckily for you, beta's scents were so subtle that it was just barely noticeable. Which is why it is rare for them to attract an Alpha or omega so your almost nonexistent scent went overlooked by everyone. Even if someone did have suspicions, it would become a mere afterthought once they detected your vast amount of curse energy you possessed and that cocky personality of yours. Besides, no omega would be allowed to roam the streets freely without a pack member as protection. 

‘Not like I need a babysitter. I can protect myself.’

But here, fighting the young beta in front of you, was the best! It was fun and he’d never won a single sparring match against you. It fed your ego to know that even as an omega, you were faster and stronger than a beta. Society called you inferior because of your biology but you were so strong. You could handle yourself and even go toe to toe with quite a few alpha’s! Your opponents took you seriously because they thought you were a Beta. Only at the tender age of 17, you were a grade 1 sorcerer and you were a force to be reckoned with. 

However, all of that changed today. You were going to be meeting the trio’s sensei. A powerful, unserious, weirdo, according to Fushiguro. That was extremely confusing to you but Itadori would not shut up about him and with much guilting and convincing, you agreed to meet him. Of course, you have heard about the infamous Gojo clan. Even small families like yours knew to stay clear of them, they were bloodthirsty, ruthless, and carried a deadly aura. Gojo Satoru, was hailed to be the strongest sorcerer of this generation which meant that he was even stronger than anyone in his psychotic clan. So the fact that he existed, a man born with both the Limitless and his Six Eyes, you were not exactly thrilled to be anywhere near that kind of danger. Just the thought of that made your wolf tremble. This was 100% going against your better judgment but it was impossible to deny Itadori. He was such a persistent little golden retriever in your eyes. 

Unexpectedly, the beta in front of you landed a nasty kick to your rib and you doubled over in pain. You swore you heard a faint cracking sound. Yuji's eyes widened as he ran over to you in a panic, the others not so far behind him. 

“Y/N are you ok? I’m so sorry!! I thought you would have dodge.” He crouched next to you in an attempt to assess the damage. You can hear the panic in his voice.

”Y/N! Can you stand? Itadori, you damn idiot! Who kicks a girl with that much force?” Nobara scolded him loudly before punching the top of his head. The Beta winced and Megumi approached y/n.

”I think my rib might be broken…” You chuckle before trying to straighten with some difficulty. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat on the paper covered bed with a pout as you listened to Shoko explain your diagnosis to you. You hang your head with annoyance, kicking your dangling feet back and forth like an idle child. Shoko sighed, assuming you weren’t paying attention so she grabbed your chin with her delicate fingers and tilted your head to focus on her.

“Y/n-chan, you have 3 hairline fractures. 3-” She held up 3 fingers with her opposite hand.

“On 2 different ribs. Which is a miracle. You are lucky you didn’t end up with a full on break. A direct hit from Itadori-kun is more than capable of doing it.”  She lets go of you and heads to a medicine cabinet.

“…” You deflated even more but winced in pain.

“2 weeks of bed rest. No missions, no training. And no complaining.” She tossed you a bottle of painkillers, which you caught and she fixed you with a look at the last order. She knew you well enough to know you would pout and try to negotiate the terms of your discharge and pretend like you weren’t in pain.  

“Hai. Hai. Shoko-San.” You pouted before sucking in a deep breath to prepare for the pain when you got off the bed. It hurt like a bitch but you didn’t show any signs of pain as you thanked Shoko and exited the room.

The moment you closed the door, you were frozen in place. Hand still clutching the doorknob as a shock ran through your body and your hackles raised. You were internally panicking and you didn’t realize why until you turned your head and saw the last person you wanted to run into. Gojo Satoru. You may never have met him but everyone knew the description of that man. He was the only young sorcerer in Japan with snow white and brilliant blue eyes that you can peeking out from the tinted glasses on his face.

Your instincts recognized the overwhelming power radiating from that unknown alpha before your nose could even pick up the unfamiliar scent. It frightened you, he frightened you. You were sure your scent relayed that much. His scent alone was so overpowering that it engulfed the hallway like a flood. He smelled of the forest. Clean and crisp after a heavy rain and the slight node natural musk. But it was also sweet, like something you know you’ve come across before. You lifted your head a bit and scented the air. ‘Ah, it’s sugared birch.’ It was one of your favorite candle scents and it helped to calm you most after being abandoned here by your parents. You felt dizzy from his scent, like your consciousness left your body and was hovering around you. You felt your wolf whine at that moment, it was muffled but definitely clear enough to snap you out of that haze. She intended to keep you alert in the face of this threat. Right now, he was slowly closing in on you and you were staring in obvious panic. Everything was screaming at you to bare your neck or prostrate yourself as a sign of submission. It was your wolf. She was gnawing at the edges of your psyche and she seemed just as panicked too.

You had to fight tooth and nail with your inner wolf to move. You wanted to run away. Your mind wanted you to run away but your instincts, though weak, told you that it would be incredibly stupid to do so. A slight upwards tilt of the head came from the alpha as he acknowledges your presence, still slowly making his way towards you just gives confirmation that it would be. He looked predatory. Something in that gesture told you that he was daring you to try. He was daring you to run and it would have been a huge mistake because you could tell that he would catch you and you wouldn’t even get far. 

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears by the time the white haired sorcerer finally stopped about an arms length in front of you. ‘This is insane. He had to be at least 6’2. No, maybe 6’3? Jesus, he is massive.’ You thought to yourself as your head traveled up to look at his face. The height difference only made you feel more intimidated by him.

Bending over slightly to look down on your smaller frame, he gave you a beautifully, disarming smile.

 “Yo.”

You tilted your head to the side and blinked at him twice. You stared at that man in complete confusion as you felt the tension in your body easing away immediately. A wave of calm washed over your body, giving you a warm feeling and dulling your senses. ‘What the hell…?’ Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. One moment you were about ready to claw yourself out of your skin to escape if needed, the next, you felt eerily calm and relaxed. Gojo gave you a knowing smirk before straightening to his full height. 

“You must be Nanami’s student. Itadori-kun speaks of you often. I am his sensei, Gojo Satoru.” He held his hand out for you to shake.You looked down at his hand and bit your lip in contemplation. You didn’t want to touch him so instead you quickly bowed instead, a perfect 90 degree angle. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Gojo-San. You are correct, Nanami-san is my sensei. My name is L/n Y/n, I am a Grade 1 sorcerer.” He used the same outstretched hand to gently grip your chin and raised your face to look at him. His fingers were so hot against your skin, uncomfortably so but you just clench your teeth and bared with it. 

“Y/n-chan. It’s a pleasure to meet another promising young sorcerer.” 

“T-thank you…” Internally smacking yourself for stuttering. ‘Ugh. Since when do I even stutter?! Jeez!’  

You waited for him to remove his hand but he never did. Instead, he directed your head to either side slightly. He paused for a moment, seemingly in deep thought then smirked. In response to this, you raised a brow at him in question but he released your chin before you could verbally inquire as to what he was looking at. 

“L/n-chan, I almost forgot-” The door to your right opened and Shoko appeared, interrupting whatever was going on.

“Ah. Gojo. It’s been a while.” The doctor turned and greeted her friend.

“It has been.” He responded in acknowledgment but seems to have kept his eyes on you. 

“Uh, excuse me but I’m going to go now.” You said to the pair.

“Oh, hold on sec. Here.” The doctor turned to you and handed you a bottle of pills.

“Take these with food before bed. It's an antibiotic.”

You looked down at the bottle in your hands and nodded numbly before scurrying off, avoiding the man that you knew was staring at you. You could feel his gaze burning into you back until you turned the corner.  

__________________________________

“Working hard these days, Ieiri?”

”The young ones keep me busy. That one especially.” Shoko said to her friend as she shook her head. 

“Oh?” He inquired curiously. He was very interested in the cute little omega.

”That little beta is quite reckless. This time it's fractured ribs, last month I could barely recognize her, she was beaten so badly that she looked half dead. I’m surprised she made a full recovery, honestly. But.. that girl was the sole reason her team came back without any casualties from a special grade curse mission that they had no business fighting to begin with.” Shoko paused and smiled softly to herself.

‘Beta? Her scent was quite subtle, even for a beta but full of the sweetness only an omega can carry. Besides, she responded well when I used my scent to calm her earlier. There’s no way she is a beta. But if she can fool Nanami and Ieiri, she’s no doubt has fooled the other members of the school. Heh. What a clever little omega.’ He smirked proudly to himself. He was proud to know that the little, barely trained wolf was fiercely protective to the point of sacrificing her own precious life for others. ‘Reckless, indeed though. That little one must have a stubborn streak like no other to persevere in such a battle when all her comrades could no longer fight. Hmm. Brave, talented, and brilliant enough to figure out how to conceal her secondary gender. I’m liking you more and more Y/n L/n.’ He really was very curious about this girl. Gojo rarely got curious about anything but something about this omega really caught his attention.

“Heh, you’ll end up working yourself into an early retirement with that one.” He joked.

“Hopefully not too early. I gave that beta enough tranquilizers to last her 2 whole weeks.” 

“So those antibiotics?”

“Yup, that’s right. They were sedatives.” She beamed at her friend.

“How naughty, Ieiri.” He was chuckled, though he was actually pretty shocked with his former teammate. 

“Don’t give me that. If I hadn’t, surely that child would be back here within the week. I have a lot of work to do and if I can make a preemptive strike to stop her from ending up back in here with even worse damage, then I will.” She ranted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You made it to your room with much effort, collapsing on your bed as gently as you could while hissing in pain. Thankfully you had been able to avoid meeting any of your friends on your way here. 

“Fuck… even breathing hurts.” You truly were in too much pain and shock to actually deal with people at the moment. Pain for obvious reasons but shock due to the way your body reacted to your best friend's sensei.

`What the fuck even happened? I’ve never met such an intimidating alpha before. He made my body just go haywired. I went from scared to panicked to dizzy to calm and then docile. What the actual fuck… is that how most omega’s act around True Alpha?’ There were no other True Alpha at this school. True alpha’s were extremely rare. They were born as Alpha’s and so they are one and the same with their wolf. They were usually considered to be a bit on the unhinged side due that since a wolf is the rawest, primal part of an individual. Of course, they didn’t go through ruts until they were physically mature but when they did, it was said to be more intense than that of a regular alpha. They were naturally stronger and more advanced than any other Alpha as well as mask their scents at will. ‘And Gojo sits on the very top of them all. Well at least, that’s what everyone was told.’

You decided to put those thoughts away for the moment and decided you needed a shower. You were dreading it, it’ll definitely take a lot of effort. Sighing, you dragged yourself off the bed with a whimper then headed to the bathroom.

Your shower took a bit longer than expected but it was successful. You were super tired but even more so, you were hungry. Grabbing your phone, you send a quick text to Yuji. 

You: Itadori! I have been released! I just barely escaped clutches of death! :D

Yuji: Y/n-chan! What was the verdict? Will you survive the night? :O

You: Unlikely… But if a brave knight brings me sustenance, there is hope! 

Yuji: Roger! 

You chuckled at that. You knew he would happily get you something to eat since he was your best friend. While you waited, you dressed yourself in a plain satin nightgown that buttoned up. There was no way you would be lifting your arms above your head for a while to put on any other type of clothing. You arrange a few pillows on your bed to prop yourself upright then you sit down and grab your laptop, browsing for a movie. There was a knock at your door about 30 minutes later.

“It’s open!” You shouted and the door opened to reveal two men.

“We come bearing nourishments, my lady.”  Itadori stated with a bad old English accent and it made you giggle. 

“Why thank you, good sir.” You smile and place your palm over your heart, careful not to actually touch your chest and bow your head to him.

Both boys entered the room and closed the door behind them. They took a spot on either side of you then opened the bag of food, pulling out a few different trays from your favorite restaurant and placing them in front of the laptop. 

“How are you feeling Y/n-chan?” Megumi asked you while you guys began to eat. 

“Not terrible, but breathing does hurt a tad bit.” You chuckled to yourself. Itadori turned to you with watery eyes apologized again for hurting you. You poked his cheek with your finger and gave a fake angry look.

”Oh cut it out, it was my fault that I got hurt and you know it. I’m the one who’s sorry for cutting our training time short but guess you finally beat me. It sucks though,  Shoko-san has effectively grounded me for the next 2 weeks.” You huff before pouting.

”It’s a good thing. No one is more danger prone than you, Y/n-chan.” The dark haired one chimed in.

”Hey! Rude! I am not danger prone! Tell him, Itadori-kun!” You turned your head to your best friend for backup. He avoided your gaze and started whistling nervously.

Your mouth dropped open and you smacked his hand.

“Traitor!” You yelled and the both of you laughed while the alpha rolled his eyes at your antics. 

The rest of the night finished with the boys cleaning up and leaving after helping you adjust yourself into a laying down position and you taking your medicine. You have to admit,  the painkiller really helped. In less than 20 minutes you could feel the pain subsiding into a dull throb. Maybe the antibiotics will help too. You sighed in relief and relaxed into the bed just before sleep overtook you.

__________________________________

It was just after midnight when Gojo Satoru appeared outside the window of your dorm. He slid the glass to the side and jumped onto the windowsill, looking down at your sleeping form. He took a whiff of the room, expecting to be engulfed in her scent but he immediately frowned. It smelled disgustingly of his young alpha pseudo son and his newer beta student. Both male scents were stale but having it around the one he was interested in, in her space and over powering your scent did irritate him.

A low grumble emitted from his throat. He was not pleased in the slightest. Though none of those children posed a real threat, he couldn’t hide the displeasure on his face. ‘I came here to explore her scent more. Not to be bombarded by the scents of inferior males.’ He wrinkled his nose in disgust. He could still smell the little one on the bed but it was still quite weak. Especially given the fact that this is your bedroom, your scent should be strongest in here but it was not. He glanced around the room and noticed how bare it was, but he was taken aback to see the lack of a nest. 

‘How strange. Even if she was pretending to be a beta, an omega without a nest is an unstable thing.’

Shaking his head, he crept down onto the bed and sat down with his legs folded at the end of the bed. He slid off his glasses and peered at the sleeping silhouette before him. He could smell better now that he was this close to you.

“Hmm…” Still he was displeased. He wanted to see your face right now and from his position, he could not.Satoru moved to lay beside you, resting his head on his fist to prop him up. He stared at the unconscious little omega. 

“You are pretty enough. A solid 8.5.” He said to no one as he took in your facial features. Your eyelashes were exceptionally long, kissing your cheeks, your lips were a pretty rosy color and your h/c hair cascaded around you in waves, giving you an angelic image. 

“Yes, definitely pretty enough.” He nodded to himself. Focusing on the reason for his visit, the alpha reached out and grabbed the blanket that covered your body, pulling it down to your waist. He was distracted momentarily by how big your breasts were. Your sleep shirt had the first 3 buttons undone, revealing your impressive cleavage. It was hypnotizing to watch your chest rise and fall with each breath and it was almost  tempting to touch her. But Gojo was better than some low level scum. He had way more control than that. He wouldn’t take advantage of an injured omega. 

Ignoring her body, he sat up fully near her face then reached down to tilt your head in his direction and pulled the collar of her dress aside. Without another thought, he brought his head down to her delicate neck and took a deep inhale of you scent, straight from the source. Your scent gland.

The white hair man’s eyes flew open in utter shock. She was sweet, no doubt there, even more so than he originally could pick up earlier. She smelled like a honey crisp apple. He licked his lips, Y/n smelled delicious to him. Sweet and with a slight tartness to it but that was all which was odd. Usually there was a mixture of things that made up a person’s unique scent.

“Wait-”

There was something else, something wrong. Something chemical. His eyes narrowed in suspicion and buried his nose further into your neck. Careful not to touch you beyond that in fear of hurting you, he gripped the bed sheets around you and inhaled again deeply. ‘Hmm. Actually, there are quite a few chemicals.’ It took all of 30 seconds for his brain to pinpoint exactly what was polluting this little omega’s scent. The sorcerer sighed and leaned away from you in realization.

“Suppressants. And damn good ones at that.” 

‘Little girl, how naughty you’ve been. Taking suppressants is very illegal. Though, you must have good connections to get such a high quality drug. Not only are they suppressing your second gender, but it also seems like something this refined is also giving you a false scent of a beta as a cover.’ He thought to himself after sitting up. Regular suppressants were nowhere near this well crafted and would have been easily detected by a jujutsu sorcerer. Essentially, it would never have gotten past Nanam, let alone Ieiri.

‘Heh. I would have never guessed that a student could get her hands on black market drugs. How intriguing you are, little wolf. Much more intriguing than I originally thought.’ He thought to himself as he admired your beauty.

“You seem to be really enjoying the life you have now. It's a shame that I’m going to end up destroying it.” He grinned wickedly, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. 

“I just don’t think I’ll be able to let you go.” He stroked her cheek lovingly before. His eyes glinted with a new formed obsession.

A/N: Chapter 2 has been posted.

[daisyofwaterdeep]

Okay about that Rolan thought where he is mean to himself as he masterbaits is just *chefs kiss*

What if Tav hears him? Like he’s in the back and she walks past the door and hears clapping? So she leans her ear to the door and hears him…

“So…ah-fucking pathetic…mhmm thinking about….her ahh snug cunt.”

Rolan’s knuckles are white as he strokes himself faster and faster… then he hears a slight whine.

Your ear is pressed to the door as your thighs squeeze together trying to ease the ache in your ruined panties… then Rolan sets himself back in his pants and opens the door but when he opens the door he sees, nothing? He doesn’t know that you’re just around the corner with your heart racing out for your chest and the plans to check that closet every day now.

(i was gonna link the post you mentioned but i cant fuckin FIND it hghg) EDIT: FOUND IT!!

Hope you don't mind that I wrote this, as soon as I saw it I was a MESS and had to share some more solid thoughts hghghg

~~~

'Caught?'

Rolan/femcis!Reader !NSFW!

__

When the last customer of the day leaves and you hear the magical mechanism lock the front doors, you finally let yourself deflate out of customer service mode.

“I don’t think that man was an adventurer.” You say, leaning comfortably on the front desk. 

Rolan is crouched down under the counter, taking inventory of the scrolls beside you. He doesn’t look up from his task as he answers. “It’s not just adventurers that shop here.”

“Yes, but he bought a Scroll of Enlarge. What in the world would he need that for?”

“It’s not our job to know.” The tip of Rolan’s quill dances over the furled ends of a scroll. “...Perhaps he wants to clean some high shelves in his home.”

“65 gold to clean some shelves? I doubt it.” 

You can see Rolan’s attention to his task waning as he settles more comfortably on his knees beside you, “Alright, so what’s your theory?”

“My theory?” You ponder for a second before the obvious presents itself. “Probably a sex thing.”

“Wh– a sex…thing?” Rolan sputters before waving his quill in front of himself, “What sort of nonsense are you talking?”

You’re shocked at just how flustered Rolan seems all of a sudden. You wonder just how more flustered he can get.

“It’s not nonsense, though.” You lean against the counter, looking out across the shop floor as you speak in a confidential low tone, “Your partner would be able to really toss you around like that. And I mean, the size aspect, of course…”

Rolan says nothing, and from the corner of your eye he seems almost like a statue, completely unmoving. You’re tempted to take a better look, but resist as you continue.

“Really though, I bet most of your customers are actually perverts. Why else would Scrolls of Grease and Dominate Person be our biggest sellers?” 

“Alright,” Rolan says, voice on the brink of exasperation, “I get Dominate Person, sure, but Grease?”

“Think about it. Oiling up your partner from head to toe. Everything being all slick and wet and well… greasy.” 

Rolan scoffs, “But the mess.”

“It’s magical lubricant,” You retort easily, “It dissipates after a while. Easy cleanup.” You take the side of your leg and bump him with it playfully, “Besides, sometimes the mess is part of the fun. Come on, you’ve had to have thought about it before.”

“Enough.” Rolan stands and straightens his robes brusquely, “This is inappropriate talk for work.” 

You want to point out that he’s the one that encouraged you, but you can see annoyance written all across his flushed face, and you don’t want to push it into a full-blown bad mood. You’re not really sure what flipped his switch so suddenly, but Rolan’s moods can be fickle like that sometimes. You’ve learned that it’s best to just distance yourself and don’t question it, lest you get a chewing out. With how well you both get along, it’s sometimes easy to forget that he’s your boss, and you’re his employee. 

He turns quickly on his heel and makes for the back of the store, mumbling something about taking inventory in the store room, leaving you alone to close up shop for the day. 

You go about straightening up, smiling at Tolna as she waves a silent goodbye and leaves. Luckily for you, today was a fairly calm one. There’s no mysterious goop to clean from the floors or fire-singed books to pull for repairs. 

As you move back behind the front desk to wipe down the counter, you notice a piece of parchment on the ground, near where you were previously standing. You pick it up and realize that it’s Rolan’s inventory list. It’s odd that he hasn’t come back to retrieve it.

You brush it off and begin making your way to the storage room, already imagining Rolan standing along one of the shelves, nose in some tome and his task completely forgotten.

But right as your hand touches the handle, you hear the faint whisper of Rolan’s voice. Is he talking to himself as he works? Or maybe he’s reading something out loud. It’s nearly indiscernible through the thick wood, and before you can think better of it, you find yourself pressing your ear against the door.

“....pathetic…fucking pathetic...”

His voice sounds tight and breathless and very pissed off. Did you really anger him that much? And is he calling you pathetic? It feels like a slap across the face– because to be fair, you were being pathetic, trying to get a rise out of him in some backwards, stupid way of flirting.

Your mind is already twisting around, trying to nurse at your wounded pride as you take a step back, but then you hear something that makes your entire body freeze.

“She doesn’t f-fucking want you–” His scathing words break off into a low moan and you can hear the faintest wet sound, a fast, repetitive ‘shlickshlickshlick’  that gets drowned out as he continues in the same hushed, angry tone, “You’re worthless, just a, ahh- a worthless fucking pervert.” 

The crash of arousal that hits you is nearly debilitating, but there’s a thread of pity that doesn’t let you fully indulge in the feeling. Rolan is on the other side of the door, masturbating and berating himself. It could just be a kink for him, but the way he’s hissing the words makes it seem like he’s punishing himself, like he’s saying them to keep from enjoying himself entirely. Is it because you’re his employee? Is it because he thinks he’s not good enough for you?  

You tell yourself not to be presumptuous. Maybe it’s not even about you. But at the same time, who the hell else could he be talking about? And after the chat you both had…did your playful teasing really rile him up to such an extent? 

Gods, what would he do if he knew you were listening to him? That your cunt was throbbing at the sounds of him stroking himself, that each of his breathy, desperate moans made you clench uselessly around nothing? What would he do if you opened the door? If you caught him with those long, pretty fingers wrapped around his hard cock? 

The thought is tempting, intoxicating…but even in your lust-muddied mind, you know you can’t. Rolan is sensitive, and a blow to his self image like that would be something you’re not sure you could reassure him out of. Especially with the cruel words he’s muttering to himself…it’s clear he has a fair share of sexual hang-ups. 

You press your thighs together and lean harder against the door, hungry to pick up on every minute sound. The wet noise is quicker now, almost manic, and his breathing is harsh. Rolan is getting close– the thought is so mind-numbingly erotic that your hips roll against the door in time with his small, overwhelmed whimpers. 

“Fuck, f-fuck—” He pants out, voice teetering on distress. 

You wonder where he’s going to cum. In his hand? A handkerchief? Does he even have a plan for what he’s going to do? If only you were in there with him, you’d stick out your tongue for him and take every hot, thick shot in your mouth.

As exciting as your sordid thoughts are, it’s nothing compared to the sound of your name– one you’ve heard so many times from him, usually from across the store, oftentimes distracted, sometimes annoyed– but this time, it’s a desperate plea. He says it like it’s the sweetest word he knows, like the mere forming of it in his mouth is a deep, aching relief.

You groan despite yourself, and realize your error almost immediately. Rolan goes deathly silent in the storeroom, and even though you’re in a drunken daze, you jerk away from the door.

Son of a bitch. Son a bitch!

It’s your turn to berate yourself as you speed walk to the other side of the store, cheeks on fire and heart thundering so hard in your chest that you’re surprised it doesn’t break a rib. 

Did he hear you? Does he know you were eavesdropping? 

You reach the counter and immediately start fussing with a stack of pamphlets as your thoughts flit ceaselessly.

When you hear the door to the store room open, you fight the urge to stiffen and instead continue to make yourself look busy, your breath held as you hear the soft tapping of Rolan’s shoes against the tiled floor. 

They seem to head in your direction, then stop. A few beats of silence, then they veer to the left, seeming to head towards the tome counter.  

You wait a few moments before daring to take a look. Rolan’s back is turned away from you, the end of his quill dancing over the edges of the books as he continues to take inventory, like nothing happened. 

Oh yeah, the inventory list! It’s only then that you realize that it’s no longer in your hands. You whip around, looking around your feet, then along the path to the store room. 

You don’t see it.

You turn back to Rolan just as he jots something down on a piece of parchment. It’s a little hard to see from this distance, but you’re almost certain that it’s the same one as before. 

Even if there’s no solid proof that he knows you were peeping, the horrified screaming in your head doesn’t relent.

[nonushu]

heavy heart - kim mingyu

genre: angst | wc: 885 | warnings: kissing, toxic relationship, reader has no self-respect | mingyu x reader a/n: I'M SORRY FOR THIS, i got bored at work (i'm still at work right now)

you heard it from your friends first, as a warning that kim mingyu doesn’t want to be held down. they spoke with a mix of concern and resentment, recounting how many times he’d walk away from someone if they got too close. “he’s not the type to settle,” they said, the words ringing in your ears. 

the longer you kept your head pressed against the window, the more you wondered if he even cared at all.

you watched the rain trickle down the glass, each drop reminding you of each time you let him back into your life. the streetlights became blurred, making the outside world seem so distant that the only reachable source was mingyu. 

that familiar embarrassment heats your body, knowing how much of a fool you’re making of yourself right now.

you know you’re naive to think he’d even want to commit to something real, but you swear there were lingering feelings during the nights you spent together. the way he held you, the soft words he said in the dark—it all felt too genuine to believe he didn’t want to stay with you forever.

though kim mingyu was just a man you falsely envisioned to be perfect. those fantasies you filled the gaps of your mind with were of relationships that could never be. reality was far different, and deep down, you knew that. 

the notification from your phone made your head rapidly turn to what or who it might be. mingyu, hopefully, you thought. 

reading the name felt like a fever dream. as if it was any surprise, it’s the man you believed you could change. each moment was a painful tug to your heart but you always came back to it.

you opened his message, the illumination of the screen giving you a slight validation.  

[mingyu]: are you busy tonight?

you should’ve said yes, or a smarter move should’ve been to not reply at all. yet you never listened to your head when it came to him.

your fingers move in disappointment as you type in your reply. 

[you]: no, do you want to come over?

he replies in an instant.

[mingyu]: be there in 15. 

you sighed, staring at the screen in humiliation before tossing it aside. you knew this wasn’t good for you, but you’d tell yourself that if it was anyone else, they wouldn't be able to resist his charms either.

the minutes dragged by the seconds and finally, the doorbell rang. 

it’s almost shameful how quickly you get up to answer the door, but there he stood, looking effortlessly handsome as he always does. his presence filled the doorway and for a moment you felt like you’d rather get lost in this. 

with one look at you and no words spoken, he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours almost roughly. mingyu's bigger frame took control of the kiss, putting a hand around your waist and making you take steps backward to your living room. he shuts your door with his other hand behind him while still keeping you against him. 

mingyu kisses you like he means it, but you know it’s not real. the warmth of his hand attached to you feels like home, but you know it’s far from that. each touch and each breath was like he was trying to say something, but then again, you know he really isn’t.

tears welled up in your eyes as mingyu deepened the kiss. for some reason, you couldn’t pull back from this. even if you tried, you hate to admit that it’s the only thing keeping you going. 

you whimper loudly into the kiss causing mingyu to pull back. his brows furrow at the sight of you, now crying in his arms. 

mingyu frowns, confused. "are you not in the mood?"

you shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. "mingyu," you whispered, almost inaudible. “what’s holding you back?”

he sighed, letting you go and stepping back. "what do you mean y/n?”

“why can’t we date?” your voice cracking. you feel the walls close in, your tone getting too desperate. 

you hate when he looks at you like this. with pity and a hint of frustration in his features. “why can't we be serious about each other?”

your eyes, quick to become swollen, gaze up at mingyu who seemingly stares right back at you with no patience. 

“y/n,” he says, straightening his posture, making you feel smaller. “this can never be serious. you knew that from the start.”

you start to breathe heavier, the air getting thicker. “i-i know, but—”

“just call me back when you’re not so emotional.”

with that, he turned and left, shutting the door too harshly and leaving you alone in your apartment. the sound of the rain outside seemed to beat with your heart. you sank to the floor, your sobs blending with the patter of rain against the windows.

you felt the weight of mistakes, knowing you had let yourself fall mingyu. the realization stung, and you cried harder, the rain outside mirroring the storm inside you. the tears flowed freely, mingling with the bitter taste of regret of giving so much of yourself.

to mingyu, you were nothing more than a passing distraction. but you weren’t sure if that was enough to keep you away.

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn Into BG3: Chapter 9

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 9: You lose something, but maybe a certain devil can help you out?

Word count: 2K

A/N: Okay, but should we start to focus on one companion for romance??

Your body is warm as you drift between sleeping and waking.  It’s like you’re sitting by a fireplace, wrapped in a soft blanket while a winter storm rages outside.  Like sleeping in on a Sunday morning with nowhere to be for the day.  You could stay there forever, resisting the pull of the waking world with a grimace.

“You took quite the hit,” a deep voice says, “and for a bear no less.”

Right, you were bleeding, concussed.  You should really open your eyes to see what’s happening, but they only flutter shut again.  There’s a dim light overhead that disturbs your peaceful warmth, and when you turn away from it you feel the cold stone on your cheek.

Stone.  Blood.  Bear.  Your eyes open—slowly despite the shot of fear that courses through your body.  After a few blurry blinks you’re able to make out the vague shape of a person's head, then long brown hair that’s partly tied back and braided, and a smile.

“Welcome back,” Halsin says.  “I’m sorry it took so long for me to heal you—we had to get the goblins out of the way first.”

“We?” you repeat.

Another face comes into view, the horns on top of Tav’s head nearly poking out one of Halsin’s eyes.  The druid backs off to let your companions fuss over you. 

Dried blood has crusted on your forehead and cheek.  You wipe at it and it begins to flake away with ease; whatever healing magic Halsin used on you has sealed the wound and dried the blood.  

Tav moves behind you and slides his hands under your back, giving you a push upright.  Almost your full weight is on him until you’re sitting up, still trying to blink away little spots in your vision.

“What happened?” you ask.  “Did I win?”

You’re not even sure what you’re asking.

“Against a rock?” Astarion says.  “No.  Against the worm in your head…that’s another story.”

You take a deep inhale, surveying the faces around you.  There’s worry on almost all of them, but something else.  More than concern for your repeated blows to the head.  It isn’t until you follow Astarion’s gaze to something to your left that you understand.

You jump away, scurrying back just like when you’d found the boar in your tent.  There, lying lifelessly on the stone floor, is a mindflayer tadpole.  Your stomach lurches as Tav picks it up between two claws then tosses it behind him.

“The tadpoles leave the host when it dies,” Halsin says.  “Though what caused it to leave this time, I’m not sure.”

“How did it—what part of me—where did it leave from?”  You stand, head shaking.  “No, I don’t want to know.  I’ve never been so glad to be knocked unconscious.”

You waver on your feet, world spinning.  When you hold your hands out to balance yourself you’re lifted off your feet and into the arms of Tav.

“I can walk,” you say, though you don’t know if that’s true.  Besides, there is a lot of blood on Tav that can’t be all goblin—he didn’t have to carry you back to camp.

“I shouldn’t have let you leave,” Tav replies.  “I’m sorry.”

“I volunteered.”  Your fact does little to lighten his mood, his lips still in a firm line.  “Besides, if I hadn’t failed my persuasion roll I probably would have been fine.”

Tav only furrows his brow at your words. 

“I’m sorry to leave like this but I must return to the grove,” Halsin announces.  He doesn’t even have to step towards you to take your hand in his; he never strayed far after healing you.  “Please, speak with me there when you can.”

You watch as Halsin places a gentle kiss on your knuckles, unable to do anything else as your face heats.  He adds, “And thank you for what you did.”

You stutter a quiet “No problem” just before he transforms into a rat and dashes off.

“Oof!”  Karlach places a hand over her heart dramatically.  “He’s a charming one, isn’t he?”

You don’t trust your voice to not come out as a squeak so you say nothing.  Your attention returns to the tadpole that disappeared into the shadows of the cell.  Should you really leave it there?  Was it really dead?

“Did it…did it really leave?” you ask.  Are they going to leave you behind now that you’re no longer sharing their affliction?  You wet your lips.

“We think that may be why Priestess Gut said the Absolute abandoned you,” Gale explains.  He’s standing by Astarion, your staff in hand.  He gives it a shake.  “Though she was none too impressed to see you with this.  But that’s something we can discuss when you haven’t been imprisoned by goblins, hit with large rocks, or—fed upon.”

You think you catch a dirty look from Gale to Astarion but it’s too dark and you’re too woozy to tell. 

You want to ask, “what now”, even as you stay held close to Tav.  But the words don’t come.  You know the answer after all this—they’ll definitely kick you out of the camp because so far you’ve done nothing but suck up all their healing supplies.  You have plenty of money to survive after all, and Halsin will probably let you stay in the grove for a while.  There’s a lump forming in your throat at the thought of going out on your own but what choice do you have?

Maybe Karlach can tell what you’re thinking, or maybe she’s just tired, too.  She says, “I think it’s about time we head back yeah?”

You swallow down the lump, nose starting to run as you hold back tears.  Pain is coming back to your body, Halsin’s healing wearing off.  It did its job of keeping you alive, and now it is your body that must do the rest of the work.  You can feel the bruises along your back, hips and sides where the goblins jabbed you, as well as the forming headache.  If the headache is from the rocks striking you or the tadpole you don’t know.  Either way, you wish that stupid thing had at least stayed in your head when it died.  

When Tav starts to walk you let him carry you without complaint, even resting your head against his shoulder, eyes closed.  Whatever happened to the goblins and their leaders remains unknown as he carries you out, but it’s silent in the camp.  

The group is silent, too.  Maybe they’re letting you rest while you can, you think, or maybe they’re trying to decide who gets to be the one to kick you to the curb.  You don’t think about it too long.  

When you feel fresh non-bloodstained air on your cheeks you open your eyes.  You’re across the bridge and heading towards the blighted village already.  Every step they take is a step closer to you being completely alone.

The scent of sulphur wafts towards you before you hear a strange sound, like a campfire being started.  Almost a poof, but not quite.  The group turns quickly to face the source: Raphael.   Tav puts you down as gently as possible, ready to draw his weapon when Raphael starts talking.  

“Now, now, I’m not here for a fight…”  His speech starts and finishes, and then with a snap of his fingers you’re all inside the House of Hope.  The scene progresses, Tav denying the devil every chance he gets until the end and they’re transported back to where you were.

Without you.

Raphael, now in his full cambion form is observing you, a hand to his chin.  

“You, uh, you missed one,” you tell him.

He quirks one eyebrow.  “Did I?”

Raphael moves towards you and with every step you have to tilt your head further back just to look him in the eye.  When he’s an arm's length away you step back until your thighs hit the table and he doesn’t stop until he’s nearly on top of you.  Your voice is shaky when you speak.  “Y-yep.  I don’t even have a tadpole so what good would a deal with me be?”

His smile never drops, never reveals what he’s thinking.  “You don’t, not anymore.  As fascinating as that is, I’m more interested in procuring something else you have.”

You point to yourself.  “Me?  What do I have?”

Raphael reaches for your face, and with nowhere to go you stay as still as possible.  Those claws feel bigger than Halsin’s in his bear form, but Raphael is gentle as he strokes a knuckle along your cheek.  

“You, my dear,” he says, almost wistfully, “have more than you know.  But you don’t know anything do you?  Just a name and a place; Baldur’s Gate.”

You gulp.  Even when he takes his hand away you feel the heat of his skin on your cheek.  He doesn’t step back, closing you in with his size and outstretched wings.  “I guess it’d be silly to ask how you know that.”

His smile grows, entertained by your question.  “I could help with that—your memories, your life here.”

The way he stresses the last word gives you a shock like when Priestess Gut had looked at you. 

“No, thank you.  Now, if you could just send me back—”

“What will you do when they leave you?”

The question halts your words, your very thoughts.  You peer up into Raphael’s red eyes.  He continues, “Without the tadpole binding you, you’ve no reason to stay.  Where will you go?  Gold can take you only so far.”

You don’t answer.  You don’t have an answer.  You ask, “You know who I am?”

“And then some,” he answers.  

You swallow your fear, again, and shake your head.  He’s a devil!  Evil!  Your identity isn’t worth your soul, which you’ve come to learn is real and eternal.  

“I’ll be here,” Raphael tells you, “I’m sure you know how to find me.”

In a plume of smoke you’re back on the dirt road that travels between the shrine and the village.  You stay stock still as if the predator is still in front of you, eyes on the ground.  You hear someone call your name, but it isn’t until Tav shakes your shoulders that you can react.  “What?”

“Please tell me you didn’t make a deal,” Karlach begs.  If she couldn’t burn your skin off you think it would be her shaking you out of your trance.  

“No,” you reply.  “No.  No!  Of course not.”

Each of the companions let out a relieved sigh. 

“What did he want with you?” Astarion asks.  “Not to be rude but without the tadpole…”

You shake your head, the ache inside growing.  Stop shaking your head at everything, you think.  “He didn’t say.”

“What did he offer?”  Gale steps up, brows pinched together as he carefully watches your expression.

“My memories,” you admit.  “But I don’t think my memories are worth my soul.”

Gale’s face relaxes at your answer.  

“Now there’s a devil at our door,” Astarion complains.  “What next?  Will we be attacked by a rabid kobold as icing on the cake?”

“All in good time,” Gale answers.  

“I’d give you a hug if it wouldn’t burn your skin off,” Karlach says to you. 

You smile at her, but it’s weak.  You could really use that hug.  Raphael’s words had echoed your own thoughts—what happens when you’re left alone, left behind, by these people?  They must mistake your silence for fear, because they each give you a reassurance that as long as you don’t make a deal with a devil you’ll be fine.  But you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop and feeling terribly sorry for yourself.

You muster up as much energy as possible and put it into stretching your lips into a smile.  “We should probably get back to the grove.  I’m sure everyone will be happy to hear the goblins aren’t a threat.”

This time you don’t let Tav pick you up, and start walking on your own two feet.  You’ll have to get used to it anyway, injured or not, when they move on to the Underdark. 

Taglist:

@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat @jeneralmischief @notsaelty @runaway-17 @aoirohi @tinswhimsy @xxgrimripp3rxx @kemonocat-blog @thetiredtoad0-0 @sleepydang @iwannabealocalcryptid

[usmsgutterson]

Hi! Could I request an Aaron Warner x fem!reader where reader is always flustered when Aaron flirts with her and one day she flirts back with Kenji. Aaron is frustrated (and obv jealous), he didn’t know it was a joke between them and he confronts her about it. This time she’s the one teasing him cause he’s jealous and then LOVE CONFESSIONNN

Thank you!! And sorry if it’s too long

So Am I- A.W x fem! reader

All right, hi! Again, I am so sorry about how long this took and I hope you like it in spite of that.

As I did with your last request, this is a headcanon/fic combo--I wrote out the headcanons first and then turned the confession into a fic because writing it that way is just easier on me when my motivation is somewhat lacking lol

Fic type- this is fluff with angst but only if you squint

Warnings- none!

Okay, so!!

You and Kenji are exactly the kind of friends who flirt but like,, platonically

it's never anything too serious--at most, it's typically just stuff like: "Lookin' good, L/N!" or just random compliments, the occasional wink here or there

also, on another note, Kenji is definitely the type of person to either bring up or agree to marry his best friend if they're both still single at 30

it's lighthearted bantering that you guys do for the hell of it, and it generally gave you both a bit of a laugh so it brightened the mood significantly while you were with him when things got bad at Omega Point and stuff with the Resistance

HOWEVER

when Aaron flirts with you???

it's not platonic (you're in love with him)

it's never platonic (he's also very deeply in love with you)

you ALWAYS, ALWAYS get just a bit flustered around him

kenji teases you for it RELENTLESSLY too because he finds it to be the funniest thing in the world??

"C'mon, Y/N! Warner saying that your eyes look nice in the sun can't just be platonic. He's in love with you and he's flirting! Flirt back and let me officiate your wedding."

"Did Warner flirt with you again??" He asked one time as he caught Aarons back fading from view as he walked away and noticed you standing there, a loving look in your gaze as you watched him go. "Oh, shit, Y/N. You are in so deep."

Warner doesn't really know that you and Kenji flirt platonically, so when he does hear that for the first time, this is how it goes:

"Lookin' good, L/N!" Kenji called out as the two of you passed each other in a hallway, Kenji likely going to visit Castle while you were in search of his daughter.

"This from you, Kenji? You look flawless."

TO YOU, that was where the interaction ended--a bit of harmless flirting, words of encouragement to keep one another on your feet.

whereas warner?? warner was like "Okay, gotta confess my feelings now and see where that goes."

He, however, is a gentleman who finds you in your room that night, and the confession goes as well as Aaron could've hoped--better than that.

Aaron finds you in your room, back against the wall, blanket tossed over your lap and a book in hand. A candle had been lit to keep the room lit well after you were meant to have been sleeping, and when you saw him enter after knocking and you'd said it was fine, you gave him a grin and set the book in your lap.

"Hi," you greet. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Aaron says, closing the door behind him as he steps into the room. "I have something to talk about, is all."

You glance at your book, and Aaron has to fight a grin as he watches you grimace at the cover.

"This book sucks anyway," you tell him, nodding. "Say your peace, please. Anything to distract me from this god awful prose."

Aaron laughs, and your heart gives way to a funny little flip.

"I love you," he says, figuring it best to just rip the bandaid off. "I'm in love with you, and I have been practically since we met. I was content to just wallow in it forever but you and Kenji were flirting and my insecurities got the best of me, so here I am, pouring my heart out like some fool in a romance novel."

"Aaron," you say, laughing a little as you say his name. "Kenji and I aren't romantically involved, I promise. We flirt from time to time but that's just been something we've done all our friendship--it's kept spirits up in the worst of times because we find it hilarious. I'm in love with you too, and I tended not to engage with your flirting because every time you flirted, my heart kicked off into a racing pace and I almost forgot how to breathe."

Aaron can't help the way that his eyebrows raise or the surprised expression on his face, which makes you laugh and in turn makes his heart race just a bit.

"Do you want to stay the night?" You ask. "We can talk, maybe go to see if theres any tea left in the kitchens."

Aaron steps forward, takes your hands and sits down beside you on your bed, glad that he'd decided to change into sweatpants and a shirt before coming to confess his feelings.

"Kenji is going to lose his mind," you say, laughing a bit as Aaron wraps an arm around your shoulder and you let him pull you close. "He's been telling me to get on with it for a year at this point, to confess my feelings, but I've not found the strength. I was afraid I wouldn't adequately be able to put it into words."

Aaron presses a kiss to your forehead, laughing just a bit in turn.

"I didn't do so much better," he comments. "Glad I did it though."

You hum, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "So am I."

[me-sploh-rada-imas]

Jance kiss prompts 11, 16 and/or 30?

hi!!! tysm for the ask! i have written 16... lazily from these prompts, which i've posted on ao3 here. btw if you have an ao3 i can gift it to you so lmk!

this was inspired by this post of one of jure's insta stories from thailand where you could see two jan- and nace-shaped blobs cuddling...

It’s rare that Jan wakes before Nace, but over the past few days, in the unfamiliar bed of their villa in Thailand, they’ve had a bit of a role reversal; Jan is finding it surprisingly easy to sleep, while Nace is struggling a little more with the heat and humidity. Back home, they tend to fall asleep curled in each other’s arms, but here they have to keep their distance or risk waking up disgustingly sweaty in the morning.

Jan turns towards Nace. He’s lying on his side facing Jan, one arm reaching half towards him, his hair so dishevelled that Jan is sure he must have spent quite some time tossing and turning in the night. This is a sight he normally only gets to see in the dead of night at times when his insomnia is particularly bad, so he lets himself enjoy his own contentment as well as Nace’s. As Jan watches him, Nace stirs, and Jan can’t help but reach over to brush his hair out of his eyes. Nace leans into his touch and makes an unintelligible noise in the back of his throat. Jan is charmed by the unusual display of morning grouchiness that he is never normally awake to witness. Usually, it’s Jan who wakes up tired and grumpy after a bad night’s sleep to Nace’s gentle teasing.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Jan says with a smile, and Nace reaches out without opening his eyes to pull Jan in towards him. He kisses the tip of Nace’s nose softly, and Nace groans, rolling over to bury his face in Jan’s shoulder.

“Not a good morning,” he protests, the vibration of his muffled voice reverberating through Jan’s chest. Jan laughs and wraps his arms around him to pull him closer, tangling their bare legs together. It’s too hot to sleep in pyjamas and although Nace slept in his underwear, Jan is fully naked underneath him. It’s clear, though, that Nace is not in the mood for sex, and Jan is content to lie in his embrace like this without plans for anything more. He breathes in Nace’s comforting scent, nuzzling his face into his hair, and strokes a gentle hand up and down Nace’s back as he slowly shakes off his tiredness. It’s late enough in the morning that there’s movement elsewhere in the villa; they can hear someone splashing about in the pool and quiet voices in the kitchen.

At last, just as Jan is getting too warm, Nace rolls off of his chest, settling just far enough away that they’re face to face but close enough that their legs are still entwined. They lie there for a moment in silence in the dimness of the room.

“Is it a good morning yet?” Jan whispers, and Nace rolls his eyes but breaks into a smile, his cheeks dimpling. Jan is powerless to resist him, and he leans forward to press a soft kiss to Nace’s lips. When he pulls back, Nace is still smiling.

“You need to work a bit harder than that,” he teases, sliding his hand up Jan’s back to hold him close. It’s Nace who closes the gap between them this time, languidly slotting their mouths together. 

They lie like this for a while longer, kissing lazily, gently exploring each other’s mouths. It’s the perfect way to wake up, Jan thinks. He wants Nace in his bed like this every morning, pliable and content under his hands and tongue, unconcerned by the outside world. They have no responsibilities to think of here, no reason to fret over writing new music or the rest of the tour now they’re on holiday and far away from Europe and all their worries. They can simply relax in bed together and enjoy each other’s company. 

When they at last break the kiss, Nace leans into the crook of Jan’s neck again, pressing a delicate kiss to his collarbone and then his shoulder. 

“We should get up,” he says reluctantly, but doesn’t move from his position in Jan’s arms. “I want to go and lie in the sun.”

It takes a few more minutes of Jan complaining and Nace cajoling him, but eventually, they’re both out of bed and in their swimming trunks. Nace holds out a bottle of sunscreen and Jan obliges, gently massaging it in to Nace’s back and shoulders, and then turns him around to kiss him again. Nace’s collarbones are sporting a number of hickeys from the previous night, and before he puts sunscreen on his chest, Jan leans down to kiss each mark tenderly just to see Nace’s blissful smile when he looks back up. Nace’s application of sunscreen to Jan’s back goes similarly slowly, the two of them both too distracted by the other to concentrate, though their kisses are soon tinged with the taste of chemicals. At last, when they’re fully protected from the sun, they make their way out to the chairs overlooking the beach at the back of the villa, passing Mark and Jure in the pool. Kris is reading in one of the sun loungers and Nace takes the other, gesturing at Jan to sit next to him. There’s just about enough space for the two of them if they cuddle close, and Jan leans in to kiss Nace yet again.

“I would say get a room but you literally have one,” Kris comments scathingly, though he’s steadfastly looking down at the book in his lap when Jan breaks the kiss and glances over. “And before you say anything about putting it to good use, believe me, I know you do.”

Nace is blushing when Jan looks back at him, but Jan just laughs. “Why, are you feeling lonely?” he teases, and Kris shoots him an unamused glare. Nace pinches his side in reprimand, and Jan rolls his eyes and mutters an insincere apology, knowing that Kris isn’t truly annoyed at him.

“We can’t all be as blissfully in love as you two are,” Kris retorts a little sarcastically and pointedly drops his gaze to the hickeys on Nace’s collarbones, before returning his attention to his book to clearly signal the end of the conversation topic.

Jan snuggles into Nace’s side in silence, though Kris and Nace soon begin to chat about something else, about the weather or making plans to go into town tomorrow or something else inconsequential, and Jan finds himself closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

When he wakes, it’s to Nace prodding his side gently, and he looks over to see that Kris has gone. It can’t be much later as it’s not much hotter and the sun is still fairly low in the sky.

“I would rather not have a Jan-shaped tan line,” Nace says with a giggle, and Jan tilts himself up to kiss the smile off his face, even though Jan is very much smiling himself.

“Can’t we keep cuddling?” he asks as he pulls back, and Nace laughs at just how needy he sounds.

“Maybe for a little while longer,” he says fondly, tightening his grip on Jan, and he leans down to kiss him again.

[celandinee]

.0* ..

…ABDITORY

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ n. a place into which you can disappear.

—

word count - 900

featured - miyuki

warnings - none

note - the effort really just disappeared by the end😭 anyways miyuki is a fav so i just had to write about him

—

Lunch was chaos. The headache-inducing chatter of your classmates was enough to make you avoid the cafeteria all together; finding comfort in the abode you called the school roof.

Overlooking the entirety of the school grounds and watching those that strolled by was a pastime of yours. You would lean against the brick railing that prohibited you from tumbling over, eyes following each person who walked the pathways.

You found comfort in the simplicity. The way every student that walked by acted without inhibition, acting their natural selves.

One person chased a fallen leaf that was caught in the wind; another holding hands with her boyfriend, idly chatting with a grin plastered on her face. It was them in their own world, and you were the omniscient viewer.

It was nice to think solitude was your friend at times like this; that this rooftop was your domain alone to people-watch and eat your lunch in peace. You humored the idea— until the sound of a door swinging open totally stomped it out.

Now Miyuki Kazuya’s pastime was terrorizing you. His intrusion during lunch was one of the many ways he went about it, interrupting the silence you enjoyed with that cocky laugh and a snarky comment.

“What a surprise seeing you here,” Miyuki hummed while he took the place by your side. A lopsided smirk curled on his lips.

The boy had his white sleeves rolled to his elbows as he mimicked you, leaning against the railing casually. One of his hands tugged at the maroon tie around his neck and loosened the material until he felt like he could breath again.

The tilt of tone that hung in his words forced you to look him in the eye— his deep, amber gaze making you feel small as you retorted.

“Very funny, Miyuki. As if you don’t come up here and bother me every day,” your brows furrowed and lips pursed.

What was once your secret haven was now forsaken to the wrath of the second-year.

You couldn’t even remember when he first started sneaking out onto the rooftop; you simply remembered having the place to yourself one day, then Miyuki being there the next. You remembered there being silence once, then nonstop talking in your ear next.

“Do you really have nothing better to do?” you grumbled.

Miyuki stared past his glasses and down at you. The black rimmed specs always failed to hide the way his gaze shone with a gleam you couldn’t quite place, the dancing of gold and brown flecks in his pupils.

He leaned his side closer towards your own, tipping his chin down to be at your eye level, “Not really.”

You found it impossible to look away from him, to break the eye contact. Why were you frozen? You looked like a fool staring at him with wide eyes and parted lips, air resisting to enter your lungs.

Your hands balled into fists, still resting atop the cement, scraping slightly as you turned towards the inconvenience.

“You surely have something to do. Why don’t you eat with your teammates? Aren’t you in the same class as Kuramochi?”

Miyuki remained silent for a moment, merely staring down at you with a relaxed air to him— a more genuine smile growing on his face. Before he spoke, he turned away from you and bent down, hands digging through the backpack that he had tossed at his feet earlier.

Returning back to his normal stance, he revealed what was hidden away in his bag. Two strawberry milk cartons.

Miyuki placed one of them on the railing in front of you, and the other in front of him. The act was so simple, yet so sincere.

“Kuramochi is too loud, my team is too loud,” he answered in a subdued tone. His hands fiddled with the top of the carton, bending the thick layer.

His mood hadn’t totally changed, per se, it seemed to have shifted. The cheeky grin and confident aura moved to a tender smile and comfortable sense.

Only now did you observe the specimen in front of you. The sun caught on his glasses—the gentle breeze played with his thick, ruffled hair. Tanned skin from baseball tried to hide the mild blush that dusted his cheeks.

You snapped out of your musing to grab the milk he gave you. “So you assumed I like strawberry?” you playfully nudged his shoulder with your own.

Maybe you shouldn’t be too hard on Miyuki. Yes, his presence often made you bite your tongue, but he also made little efforts that had you second-guessing your opinion on him.

“I saw you drinking this the other day,” he opened his own drink, tearing the miniature straw’s packaging.

Miyuki Kazuya, the ever observant, calculated catcher he was, of course saw you drinking this.

Perhaps lunches wouldn’t be that terrible with the second-year at your side. Sharing your rooftop wouldn’t be too difficult.

You rolled your eyes as you felt your face heat up, opening the milk as well.

“You’re such a stalker.”

A smooth laugh escaped his lips. His shoulders shook with amusement and leaned down to prod your own as you had done before.

“Maybe.”

—

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Hello there! My request is how would The Bad Batch react to playing Mario Kart Wii? (I’m currently listening to the soundtrack so that’s where I got the request from.) BYW I love all of your stories :)

It's a Mario Party! [TBB Headcanons]

Warnings and Information: Apologies that a simple headcanon request took a while, dear, but I was under the weather around the time the request came in. All better now at the time of posting, thankfully! (Grateful I got my flu shot when I did!) Mentions of Star Wars and real-world swearing, because Mario Kart brings it out of all of us! Reader is mentioned in each character's headcanon segment, but not specifically gendered. I couldn't resist adding Omega to make sure I got the full rainbow, so consider her a bonus!

Word-count: 2,072

HUNTER

Watching vs Playing: Hunter plays more than one might expect given the nature of his enhancements. Mario Kart is a chaotic, colorful cacophony of music, sound effects and bright visuals, and it seems like it would be pretty overwhelming for him. On a really, really bad day, Hunter can't even watch, no matter if the brightness is dimmed and the sound is turned down. It's a lot of sensory input. But on the good days, Hunter enjoys playing against you and his brothers. 

Does he take it easy on his brothers: If the five of them are in a good mood, there's going to be playful banter for certain. If Hunter's having a minor disagreement with one of his brothers however, Mario Kart is utilized to either work out most of the frustration, or lighten up the tension enough for another, hopefully slightly calmer approach to smoothing out the disagreement. (Won't work for bigger arguments, however (that's what Super Smash Bros is for).) Hunter's not afraid to do some mild trash-talking and teasing. Curses occasionally, like if someone knocks him off the track, nothing severe though. 

Does he take it easy on you: Will he take it easy on you every time, no; but when he will depends! If Hunter notices you're looking a bit glum, he'll let you secure a few wins while keeping the conversation casual throughout. May or may not ask what's on your mind right away, but it'll certainly come up eventually. Whether you're just a friend or a romantic interest/partner, Hunter cares about you as much as he cares about his brothers. If you're in a good mood, he'll probably be a little more playfully competitive with you. 

Favorite item: Thunder cloud.

Favorite race track: Yoshi Falls or Moonview Highway.

Bonus: No matter if Hunter wins or loses most of the session, he'll always say it was fun and he enjoyed himself. Truth is he's not a huge fan of the game itself, it's more that he had the opportunity to spend time with his brothers and/or a friend. 

TECH

Watching vs Playing: Fifty-fifty split on whether or not Tech with play or watch when everyone's in the mood for a little Mario. When he watches, it's another toss-up on if he's going to be sitting on the couch with his datapad in hand the entire time, or if he's going to be something of a backseat driver. Tech knows the game's race tracks the same way he knows the inner consoles of the Havoc Marauder: inside and out, by heart, and with his eyes closed. It's equally impressive and terrifying. (Much like his flying can be, on occasion.)

Does he take it easy on his brothers: Yes and no. Tech doesn't see the fun in winning every time, and perhaps secretly worries that if he did win every time, his brothers may not want to play against him anymore. So he comes up with some kind of balancing system in how much he helps his brothers and what kind of trash talking he participates in.

"There's a double-stacked item box on the left side of the track, Wrecker." ("Awh, thanks, Tech!")

"You're falling behind, Hunter! Better catch up." ("Tech I'm in third place you little krif-")

There's something strangely amusing about hearing him simply say "Well shit." in a mild voice if he's knocked off the track by a carefully placed banana peel, courtesy of Crosshair, of course. 

Does he take it easy on you: Yes and no, while being similar to Hunter. Tech helps you secure a few wins if you're in need of cheering up, and he won't engage in as much trash-talk like he will with his brothers. (However, feel free to lobby all the friendly ribbing you're comfortable with his way, as it'll help him understand what does and doesn't constitute as "too far" when engaging in a friendly feud with you.) When you're up for it, Tech can make the race a real competition. 

Favorite item: Red/Green Shells.

Favorite race track: "All of them" is a shorter answer than the analysis of what he likes about each track, trust me on this. 

Bonus: Makes it a point to be sincere in his congratulations if one of his brothers and/or a friend bests him in a match. Not because Tech's worried about looking like a sore loser, but because acknowledging the successful efforts of others feels like the polite thing to do.

CROSSHAIR 

Watching vs Playing: Not terribly big on playing Mario Kart, but he'll certainly watch. Generally, he'll make some minor commentary now and again, usually at the expense of the poor soul who is furthest behind. When Crosshair plays, he'll get pretty focused on the game, however. Mario Kart might not be among his most favorite games, but he enjoys it. 

Does he take it easy on his brothers: It's all in good fun, but Cross is fluent in trash-talk. If Crosshair was truly upset with the way the game is going, he gets quiet. Swears up a storm, about as many f-bombs as a rated R film. He's completely competitive. Wrecker enjoys the competition the most from an entertainment standpoint, followed by Tech from a challenge standpoint.

Does he take it easy on you: Depends on the nature of the relationship, and how long he's known you. But if Cross suspects the game's becoming frustrating, or even stopped being fun for you, then he'll adjust his play style accordingly. A game like Mario Kart stops being fun the moment someone looks like they're ready to walk away, for him. 

Favorite item: Bullet Bill

Favorite race track: None in particular, likes utilizing the Random feature so the track is a surprise each time. 

Bonus: His favorite racer is either Toad or King Boo.

ECHO

Watching vs Playing: Watches and plays in equal amounts. Between one hand and a scomp link, it took Echo some time to get the hang of playing Mario Kart essentially one-handed, so it was once pretty frustrating for him to play. He uses the steering wheel accessory to make playing easier for himself. (Omega later got his permission to add stickers and stuff to the accessory not long after she joined the squad and started playing Mario Kart with everyone.) 

Does he take it easy on his brothers: They had to take it easy on him at first while he was getting the hang of the game. As a group, everyone helped him work up to a point that Echo could confidently play the game just like any other able-bodied individual. ("It'd be unfair to leave Echo out entirely… He should have an opportunity to play if he wants like the rest'a us!" Wrecker empathetically declared early-on.) 

Later down the line, Echo performs pretty well in Mario Kart! He'll have days where he struggles a little more and doesn't play as long as he usually would, on occasion still of course. Assuming for the moment he's older than most of the Batch (save for perhaps Omega), one of his favorite forms of banter falls along the lines of "Don't tell me you boys are losing to an old ARC trooper!". He doesn't completely refrain from swearing, but he's not as reserved as one might think either. 

Does he take it easy on you: It depends on how taxing he finds playing Mario Kart on any particular day. Some days he's able to give you a real run for your credits, others, he's just able to keep up, and others still, you have him smoked, no questions asked. He'll understand feeling sympathetic, but he'd probably hate if you felt really bad for him on the days he's struggling. (There's a difference between "I'm sorry you're struggling today, do you wanna try another race or stop for now?" and "I'm sorry you keep losing, Echo…")

Favorite item: Golden Mushroom

Favorite race track: The simpler tracks without additional obstacles, for the most part. But Rainbow Road is a classic for a reason. 

Bonus: He's grateful for all the hours Wrecker helped him practice and built his confidence in playing with just one hand and the steering wheel accessory for the Wii. 

WRECKER

Watching vs Playing: Loves to play, no matter how long or short the gaming session if someone invites him to join! If he's playing by himself, that's really the only time he'll be worried about placing first. He's more focused on having fun with others than his position when playing with his brothers and/or friends. If someone wants to play by themselves, say to practice a track they struggle with, then Wrecker's there to be their hype man. (Plus providing reminders for snacks and water breaks!)

Does he take it easy on his brothers: Wrecker plays very well, but overall wins few races when playing Mario Kart against other people. Because really, he just plays to have fun. Any pouting over a loss is short-lived, and quickly forgotten. It's more about having a good time overall than repeated victories. He enjoys challenges with Crosshair, and sometimes he can convince the marksman to go one-on-one if he's still got a competitive itch to scratch. 

Does he take it easy on you: If he thinks it'll make you happy, or cheer you up, he'll certainly goof around a lot more to give you a better chance of winning. Wrecker enjoys spending the time with you either way, so however competitive you feel like getting is fine by him! 

Favorite item: Bob-omb, of course! 

Favorite race track: Bowser's Castle and Rainbow Road. 

Bonus: A lot of helping Echo practice getting the hang of playing Mario Kart with just one hand just meant letting Echo get as frustrated as he wanted or needed some days, and responding without harsh judgements. When Omega joins the squad, and there's something bothering her, one of Wrecker's favorite things to try is spending about fifteen minutes just playing and goofing off with her around the track before asking her if he can do something to help her with the current problem. Even if she doesn't take him up on the offer, she's grateful he spent time with her to take her mind off of it temporarily. 

OMEGA

Watching vs Playing: She'll tell you that she loves watching and playing with her brothers in equal measure, but really she loves being directly involved a whole lot more. 

Do her brothers take it easy on her: When she's having a bad day, or something's bothering her, they make more of an effort to be more casual and less cutthroat for certain. She's still a kid, and she's developing differently than they did given her lack of accelerated aging. Try as she might, she's still going to have those days where everything is confusing, adults Just Don't Get It, and she's having difficulty explaining all her Big Feelings like any other child her age. 

They'll do their best to be patient with her, and answer those questions the best they can (while Tech researches age appropriate solutions where applicable) on those bad days. 

They also have to remember this kid is an absolute whizz at Dejarik; Omega might be the one who needs to go easy on some of her brothers on a good day! 

Does she go easy on you: She understands that when playing with other people, it's not always about who wins. It's about the time spent with them, and how they make you feel. There's been a few occasions where she's tried playing against people other than her brothers or you, and she hasn't enjoyed it as much because the other person was bitter about their loss, or they were meanspirited or bragged too much over a win. "It's not fun to play with people like that. That's why I like playing with you and my brothers more." she tells you one day when you ask about it. 

"Makes sense. Hey, one more time on your favorite race track, and then we should go get something to eat for lunch, okay?" 

Favorite item: Star

Favorite race track: She has a lot of favorites, but she's mentioned she likes Rainbow Road because it reminds her of hyperspace.

Bonus: She enjoys playing with everyone all at once whenever possible. She understands Mario Party is a separate game, and it really should be called "Mario Kart Night" instead, but she likes calling them Mario Party Nights, and those are her favorite nights of all. 

Don't have a fic taglist form for the time being. For now, though, if you'd like to join a taglist for specific types of fics (for example: just TBB-centric or just TCW-centric (or both)) don't hesitate to ask. 🩷

[Masterlist] [Requests: OPEN]

[plnkdemon]

IF WE MEET EACH OTHER IN HELL, IT'S NOT HELL II

solomon x gn!mc and how the brothers hate their relationship (holiday edition!) tw/cw: the brothers being jerks a bit, eating/food (valentine’s, thanksgiving, april fool’s), kissing (ew), very self-indulgent ngl, terrible writing, no beta we die like mc. please let me know if anything is missing.

everybody hates solomon...

the brothers – and occasionally the prince and his butler – were the only people you interacted with for a good while into the exchange program. considering your position as the average joe human and being especially vulnerable in comparison to the rest of the exchange students, diavolo had decided to house you separately. unintentionally, this resulted in a very late introduction to the angels and fellow human.

the demon brothers were quite content having you to themselves, but that couldn't last forever and it was more difficult seeing your very human-centric interactions with solomon than they ever could have expected.

at christmas time in the human world, your cheeks and ears suddenly blush a dark red when solomon reveals a small twig of a leafy plant with a cheeky flourish. he holds it high above the two of you before leaning down to place a small kiss on your lips, both of you smiling throughout the whole interaction. the twig is tossed aside as the two of you continue walking down the sidewalk, unaware of the confused onlookers and frustrated leviathan who mumbles, “this is why i never leave my room, stupid normies.” before shuffling home with his hands shoved in his pockets.

(self-indulgence warning) on valentine’s day, the demons and angels rush around trying to find the best gifts, poorly avoiding suspicion when trying to determine your preferred flowers, chocolates, jewelry, and dates. on that day, you’re bombarded with various devildom flora, any type of chocolate in any shape they could get their hands on, and a gigantic stuffed black cat shark. as politely as you can, you accept bouquets of flowers that most likely are deadly to your species and chocolate with flavors that threaten your sanity with a smile and “that’s so considerate of you.” conversely, solomon waltzes in nonchalantly, waiting his turn without complaint. once he’s given an opening, he places a gentle hand on your shoulder, offering a sympathetic smile after taking in your bounty. “mc,” he starts, revealing a small box of sour candy from the human world. “would you be my valentine?” you accept the present with a shy smile and a quiet, “you remembered…” none of the other men were knowledgeable enough about the human holiday to realize that you were supposed to ask the other person to be your valentine, until too late of course. when solomon is later asked, he reveals that you actually don’t like chocolate and flowers tend to trigger your allergies, but this particular candy had been your favorite since childhood.

the devildom doesn’t recognize the new year, being inhabited by ageless and almost immortal beings tends to take the charm out of yet another year passing by. lucifer dismisses your off-mood, commenting, “we have our own way of doing things here. now stop pouting and focus on your studying.” as much as you want to defend yourself, to say that you didn’t expect the day off in the first place and that they didn’t need to be so rude, you know it wouldn’t help your case. the brothers continue ignoring your absentmindedness for the rest of the day, until solomon knocks on the door much later than they would’ve expected. he’s immediately met with resistance from satan until you see who the late-night visitor is from the top of the stairs and rush down to calm the fourth-born and welcome solomon inside. in front of the fireplace of the common room, you find a clock to set on the table and two cups for the bottle that he had snuck inside. with a loud pop, the bottle is opened and he fills your cups with the bubbly drink. you both indulge with giddy delight, sharing stories of the past year and laughing heartily with flushed cheeks. when the clock’s arms reach 12:59, you both lean forward to start counting down, much to the annoyance of your housemates who still think you’re making much too big a deal of the new year. when the clock finally signals midnight, you face each other and share an intimate kiss. “happy new year,” you tell him in a quiet voice. “happy new year,” he repeats, pulling you back in to share another kiss. from the doorway, the demon brothers are left wishing they hadn’t dismissed the holiday so quickly without hearing you out.

when the end of november rolls around, the brothers offer very little assistance in your no-funny-business operation of the kitchen. upon your request, belphie and lucifer work together to keep beel away while you’re at work, though they don’t understand what exactly you’re doing. come dinner time, you’ve assembled your masterpiece, a spread filling the table of devildom and human world foods, all hearty and hot dishes to warm everyone in the colder months. you’ve invited solomon, simeon, and luke as well, much to the others’ disdain but they can’t bring themselves to complain after seeing what your hard work was for. bowls and plates are passed around for everyone to get their share except for the casserole that solomon had graciously brought, insisting that cooking a whole thanksgiving meal for eleven people was too much to ask of you. “mmhmnm?” “please don’t speak with food in your mouth, beel,” lucifer says from the head of the table. swallowing his mouthful, beel tries again, “thanksgiving?” you wave your hand, batting the question away but share a knowing smile with the only other human who had taken the seat next to you. “just a human holiday.” solomon reaches for your hand resting on the table and intertwines your fingers before leaning in to whisper into your ear. the brothers can’t tell what he’s saying but your cheeks tint and your smile widens all the more when you hear, “i’m thankful for you, every single day.” 

on april first, you gain a conspiratorial aura that lasts until your shared class with the sorcerer and gives lucifer a headache that rivals those caused by satan’s pranks, but he can’t figure out exactly why. he later hears from barbatos that you had presented your deskmate with a caramel apple, only for it to turn out to be an onion inside. solomon seemingly laughed it off until you opened your textbook to find that every page had the text changed to “i love solomon” and his cause for laughter became much clearer. while the pranks were harmless and all in good fun, you two were still the only ones who understood why they happened on this particular day when you’d never pranked each other before. a truce was settled goodnaturedly, resulting in your seats pulled closer together to share the one usable textbook (nevermind that he easily could have reversed the spell and returned your own book to its original state, this was too good of an opportunity to get so close to you without someone else butting in).

[ophelia-jones]

Haven't posted anything in awhile. This is from my Supernatural fiction. DeanxOCfemale. Sexual content.

Take it on the run is a series of Solace's encounters with Dean Winchester over the years when their paths intersected.

Dean had just collapsed onto the lumpy motel bed and dozed off when his phone rang. It's not the usual phone, but the one reserved for true emergencies. He squinted to try to make out the number on the caller ID, but his eyes were too blurry.

"Yeah," he said, smacking his lips and rubbing his eyes. Whoever was on the other end of the line would know they'd woken him, even without seeing him.

"Is this Agent Osmond?" A man asked. His voice was cold; *professional.* Dean could spot a cop, even over the phone.

*Ahem* he cleared his throat and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"And you are?" He asked, mirroring the cops authoritative tone.

"Chief Tom Baker, Casper County Wyoming," the man replied.

"What can I do for you, Tom?" Dean replied while wracking his brain for any hunter he knew that operated out of Wyoming or any cases he knew of out that way.

"Well, I wanted to reach out as a courtesy to a fellow officer of the law," the man said almost hesitantly. "Your sister Marie has been arrested for drunk and disorderly..."

*Sister?* Dean wondered, his eyes darting quickly from side to side without focusing on anything as his tired mind tried to make sense of the situation. *Marie. Agent Osmond's sister, Marie Osmond.* Dean closed his eyes and flopped back down on the bed with a sigh. *Solace.*

"Drunk and disorderly seems like she should sleep it off and deal with it herself when she's sober, Chief," he said, running his rough hand over his face. He didn't know what sort of joke she was playing, but he was too tired for games at the moment.

"Also, fleeing and resisting, DUI, and aggravated assault and battery," the Chief told him in a far more somber tone.

"Right. Of course," Dean sighed wearily. "Is she still in your jail, or have they come to take her to supermax?"

"She's at Mercy Hospital at the moment," the man replied. Suddenly, Dean was completely awake and no longer irritated with her antics but worried about her. He sat up in bed and tossed the first thing he could grab at the other bed where Sam slept, oblivious to the situation.

"Ow! What the hell, Dean?" He mumbled into his pillow before setting up and scowling at him.

"It's just a precaution. She took a couple of solid punches from the look of her. She's not said much. Just gave us your name and number," Chief Baker informed him.

"Mercy Hospital in Casper County Wyoming," Dean repeated. He hoped Sam was awake enough to pick up on his urgent tone and get a move on instead of sitting there with his hair all messy, looking like the world's grossest stick of cotton candy. "Thank you, Chief. I'm on the way."

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

By the time they got to Wyoming, Solace had been released from the ER and was locked up at the county jail. Dean and Sam, dressed in their 'fed suits', were escorted back to see Dean's 'sister'. Sam had taken great amusement in introducing Dean as Agent Osmond and then addressing him as 'Don'. Dean's mood had switched back to irritation.

"Hey, big brother," she greeted them as they approached. The closer they got, they could see she had a black eye, a giant purple bruise on her cheek, and the left corner of her lips were swollen. Her hair was a mess, and she wore one of the orange inmate jumpsuits. Sam snickered and fought to hide a smile.

"Where's the cake with the file in it? You ate it, didn't you?" She asked glibly.

"Funny," Dean said in a tone that made it clear how unamused he was. He frowned at her, his sea green eyes stormy. "What happened?"

"I have the right to remain silent," she replied. The playful note in her voice was faltering now, though. She looked tired, resting her forehead against the bars and closing her eyes. "Judge set my bail already; 10K." Dean's eyes widened slightly, and he cocked his head at her as if he had misheard the number.

"10 what, now?" He asked, pursing his lips.

"I'm going to go talk to the Chief. You know, get the unbiased details," Sam said before backing out of the room with the holding cell.

"Seriously, Solace. What the hell happened? Are you sure you're ok?" He asked in a softer, more intimate tone. Her eyes dropped from gazing at Dean as if embarrassed. "What was it, a vamp, a werewolf... chupacabra?"

"*He* wasn't a monster. Just a man," she replied candidly. "I fight literal monsters, but *this* guy? This guy is the one who is going to get the best of me?" She snorted in disgust.

A *man*? Why did he attack you?" Dean demanded to know. He leaned in closer to the bars to look down at Solace.

"Just some guy at a bar," she replied before looking up to meet his eyes once more. "And it happened because I was a woman, alone. I just always thought I'd handle it better."

"Solace, did he..." Dean's jaw twisted to one side, and his teeth clenched. The rage burned hot in his chest, and every muscle in his body flexed. He opened his mouth, but no words would form.

"No, it wasn't like that. Not really," Solace shook her head and slipped her hand further up the bar to touch his hand inconspicuously. "He was drunk, he got the wrong idea or something, and when I said I wasn't interested, he pushed me and then swung. Right there in the bar, you know?"

"No wonder you didn't see it coming," Dean murmured. "You kick his ass?" Solace let out a short laugh and nodded once.

"10k worth," she told him.

"We'll get you out," Dean promised, his thumb caressing her hand where they touched on the bar.

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

"Special Agent in Charge Cash," Bobby answered the phone line that correlated with that particular alias. He wasn't specifically expecting it, but he knew how to handle these calls by now. There was a brief pause as if the caller was dumbfounded that the number had actually gone to the FBI office.

"Well?!?" He grumbled into the phone.

"Agent Cash... my name is Tom Vaker. Chief of the Casper pd. I have two men here - two *agents* here in my office and..." The man started to speak, but Bobby interrupted gruffly.

"Cooper and Osbourne? What about them?" He demanded.

"Oh. Yes, well... wait, did you say Osbourne? Isn't it Osmond?" The Chief asked.

Bobby sat up a bit straighter, furrowing his brow as he tried to make sense of this.

"Osmond?" He asked, the word slipping out because his jaw had dropped and his mouth already hung open. "Isn't that what I said?" He scrambled to pretend he'd been heard wrong. It must be Dean's idea of a stupid joke.

"I don't think so..." The Chief actually paused to scratch his head as if he were in a cartoon. "Maybe I just heard you wrong."

"Well, what about them?" Bobby growled. He needed to push this conversation along.

"Agent Osmonds sister is here, sir. I just thought you might need to know," Baker stammered out quickly. "Goodbye."

*Solace,* Bobby thought to himself. *It's about time someone else got her out of lockup.*

"Listen to me closely. This is deeply sensitive and highly classified. The woman in question is under federal protection, and I am going to need you to let my agents take custody of her immediately. Agent Cooper WILL be given your full co-operation in removing all evidence of the young woman's records. As far as the world is concerned, she has never been anywhere near Casper. Do you understand me?" Bobby told the chief firmly. He hoped he sounded authoritative enough to convince the Chief.

"What is this?" The man asked in a hushed voice. "Witness protection?"

"That is on a strictly need-to-know basis, and you already know everything you need to know. Now, are you going to cooperate? Because I am in no mood to have to come down there and deal with this myself!" Bobby replied.

There was a hesitation that made Bobby's ass cheeks sweat. He didn't have a plan B if the chief called his bluff.

"Yes, sir. Full cooperation," the man agreed in a spy-movie whisper. Bobby sat back and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Good," he said, hanging the phone up before anything else could be said that might change the officers mind.

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

Solace smiled and waved at Sam and Dean as she was escorted out of the jail to the parking lot where they were waiting. As soon as she hit the pavement of the parking lot, she picked up her pace until flinging her arms around Dean and kissing him hard, on the lips. Dean's hands wrapped around her hips reflexively, but when the context of the situation occurred to him, he used that grip to push her away. He pursed his lips and widened his green eyes, nodding back toward the jail and the chief of police standing there. Solace grinned over her shoulder at the man and called out to him.

"It's ok, it's nothing inappropriate, he's my brother!" She said. Sam spun on his heal to face away from the Chief.

"Oh-kay," Dean sighed as he pushed her toward the Impala. "Time to go."

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

"Look, I'm sorry to drag you out here into the middle of nowhere. I just didn't have anyone else I could call," Solace told Dean as they entered the small cabin she had rented for the week. It was one of those bunkhouse style cabins in a small campground filled mostly with RV's worth more than most people around here would pay for a house.

"I know, I know," Dean replied, gesturing at her to stop speaking. "I don't give a damn about you calling for help. You know I'll show up anytime you call for backup."

"So, you're not upset?"

"Well, now, I didn't say that," Dean replied, sniffing loudly and looking around the room. Finally, his gaze returned to her face, and his face twisted up in disgust as he said, "Osmond?!?"

Solace laughed, then clutched her sore ribs.

"Hey, hey... Are you ok?" Dean asked, stepping up close enough to catch her if she fell.

"Oh! Oh, yeah, I'm ok..." she managed to say between giggling and gasping for breath.

"Seriously, though..." Dean said, steering her over to take a seat on the bed. "You can't keep living like this." He told her. She laughed bitterly. "No, I mean it! You need to get a job and a - a - a house, you know? Join a bowling league and complain about grocery prices with the neighbors."

"Wow. You have that planned out pretty specifically. Do I have a dog or a cat?" She asked with a sudden enthusiasm for the idea.

"Dog, of course. Some cats are creepy as shit. The rest of them are familiars or shapeshifters," he replied, relaxing now that she wasn't pushing back so much.

"So, just throw the towel in, huh? Walk away right here, right now?" She asked, and Dean nodded.

"Ok," she agreed. "But what are you going to tell, Sam?"

"What do you mean? He wants to see you get out alive just as much as I do," Dean replied.

"Yeah, but losing his brother - his *partner* - is going to be hard on him," she replied, watching Dean's face closely. She was looking for the point of epiphany when Dean understood where she was going. The moment she saw the suspicion cloud his eyes, she started to explain.

"We're settling down, right? Picket fence, lawn, sprinklers, town councils, school board meetings," she told him. "You wouldn't be ass enough to try and tell me to give up everything about my life when you aren't willing to do the same?"

"I'm not working alone!" He argued defensively. The way she rolled her eyes made Dean stumble for words.

"And I'm not 'retiring," she told Dean with air quotes around retiring. "How fucking dare you try and tell me to change my entire life while you just go on the same, as if you are better than me or something." Her honey brown eyes flashed with an internal spark as if there was a thunderstorm inside of her. She turned and walked into the bathroom, shoulders back and chin out defiantly.

She did not close the door, but Dean heard the water start. Soon, the cheap, second-hand clothes the jail had given her (because hers were taken into evidence) were tossed onto the floor behind her where Dean could see them through the open door. He scowled, trying to not get drawn in. This was serious. He was genuinely possed off at her and could not let himself get distracted. As she sank into the bath, he heard her breath catch with pain. She was bruised and battered but trying so hard to keep it hidden.

"Son of a bitch," Dean murmured as he stepped into the bathroom, tossing the jacket of his fed suit over the sink and loosening his tie. Solace looked up at him, standing there at the edge of the tub, gazing down at her. He was still angry and scowled at her.

"Let me help," he grumbled. Dean sank to his knees beside the tub and rolled up his sleeves.

"I can bathe myself!" Solace declared, trying to shoo him away but wincing at the soreness when she swung her hand at him.

"C'mon!" He said, like a nurse to a patient. He helped her into a seated position before grabbing the plastic-wrapped disposable cup on the sink. His hand dipped into the water behind Solace, and then, in a smooth motion, he began wetting her hair. It felt glorious, spreading out over her scalp and then slipping along her back and shoulders. When her hair was saturated, Dean opened the single use shampoo bottle. It smelled nice enough, although she couldn't tell what it was meant to smell like. Dean's hand firmly grasped her wet hair and began to rub the shampoo in until her hair was covered in suds.

"Ow! Take it easy, I want to keep my hair!" She complained. She felt Dean's hand slip into the water behind her again.

"Chin up. Look at me," he told her without a hint of amusement. She leaned her head back against her shoulders and closed her eyes so he could rinse her hair. She jumped when his hand closed around her chin, thumb on one side, fingers on the other. He held her face tight enough that her mouth started to pucker. Her eyes opened in shock. Dean leaned over her and placed a soft kiss on her lips before letting go of his grip on her face.

Then he kissed her again. This kiss was deeper; hot, wet, and probing. His tongue slide over her lips in a slow, rhythmic movement that made her cunt tighten. Her nipples stood up, begging for his attention. Dean sat back and gazed at her with those sea green eyes. He smiled, just one corner of his mouth upturned to present the dimple in his cheek. She'd seen that smirk many times. She hated the smug expression, but damn if she didn't love it, too.

"Close your eyes," he said before rinsing the shampoo from her hair. Once he was done, Solace lay down in the hot, soapy water. She couldn't stretch out in the tiny tub, so her shoulders were exposed, and she had to keep her knees bent. Even so, she didn't want to be anywhere else.

Dean wet a washcloth in the tub, his forearms completely submerged, the water coming up to his elbow. His hand brushed her side and sent a series of tiny tremors both upward and downward. Her body jerked reflexively at the intensity of her reaction. She didn't open her eyes, this time. She already knew that same smile wasn't going anywhere. She sighed as he dragged the bottom edge of the cloth lightly over the curve of her breast. She hissed when in grazed her rigid nipple.

"That feel good?" He asked. The tenor of his voice had dropped, and despite the playful tone of the question, he still sounded serious.

"Stop teasing," she told him, her eyes wide open now. Then she added, "Please."

"Who's teasing?" He asked, slipping his calloused fingers down her belly and between her legs. His fingers found her soft and wet, and she moaned loudly when he pressed his thumb against her clit. Her hips jerked upward, and her knees fell apart, rocking gently against his hand. Dean met her rhythm, two fingers sliding out when her hips went back and ramming in when she lifted her hips again so that he was buried to the knuckles and his thumb traced circles around her clit until she was whimpering in frustration.

"I'm... so close!" She whined, opening her eyes to watch his slip in and out of her. The tension in her thighs and ass was unbearable as her cunt begged for more until a warm wave of intense pleasure overtook her body and left her breathless. Dean's name escaped her throat on a cry of pleasure when the tension released and broke inside of her. She felt herself coming in waves around his fingers, which he had began to pump harder and faster while she came. Her breathing slowed a bit as she started coming back to her senses.

"What the fuck, dude?" She asked him, blinking as her vision grew clear once more. Dean laughed, and the amusement was evident on his face as he struggled to decide what witty remark to say out loud. He had so many! "I thought you were pissed off at me."

"I'm worried about your stubborn ass," Dean told her as he rose from his kneeling position beside the tub. He picked up a towel and began drying himself off.

"So you get me off?" She asked, dumbfounded.

"Are you complaining? Because you seemed pretty into it," he quipped. Solace struggled to stand without hurting herself. Dean moved quickly to help her up. Solace grabbed his loose tie and pulled him toward her. She claimed his mouth and sucked the smug grin off his face. When Dean pulled back, he smacked his lips and hummed a note of pleasure.

"You're getting me all wet," he told her softly, touching the tip of his nose to the tip of hers.

"I could say the same thing," she replied playfully. She could feel him pressed into her lower belly, rock hard, and pulsing in his pants. She knew he must be absolutely throbbing, and she began to throb again in response.

Dean grabbed a towel and handed it to her, then grabbed the other towel and began roughly toweling her hair. She laughed as she towered herself off as best she could. Dean dropped the towel and scooped her up as if she weighed nothing at all. Solace managed to not moan or gasp out loud, but she couldn't keep from cringing from her bruises.

"Sorry," Dean told her. He sat her gently on the bed. "Are you good? Maybe we should..."

"Don't you dare!" Solace interrupted before he suggested they stop. Dean smiled eagerly and began shedding the rest of his suit. Once every stitch of clothing was discarded, he slid into the bed behind her. His mouth found her ear and his hand found her breasts. He rubbed both nipples by spreading his hand between them, rubbing one with his pinkie and the other with his thumb. She felt him pressed against her butt, jerking and twitching as he breathed into her ear.

She pressed back against him and his hand abandoned her breasts to grasp his turgid cock and guide it to her entrance. He rubbed the tip against her in a small circle until she was dripping. She reached back over her shoulder to bury her hands in Dean's soft hair. He pressed in slightly before retreating. He tried again, but Solace's moan was one of worry and a little pain as he pressed inward again. He was big, stretching her pussy around his cock was not a quick process as he pushed in, finally sliding in far enough that she relaxed and opened to him. He slid in and out easily enough after that, there bodies spooned together as they fucked each other blind. Solace grew dizzy after coming again, but not from pain.

She loved the sound of Dean's moans in her ear as he came, his whole body tensed and trembling and his hold on her tight. She tried to memorize it so she might tuck it away in a corner of her mind and hear it again whenever she liked.

"Fuuuuck," he said as he released her from his arms and slipped out from between her legs. She felt cold without his body heat. She was cold and sticky.

"Hand me a towel," she asked and he obliged. He settled back down into bed and continued snuggling her from behind. Despite her fatigue, she fought to stay awake. She wanted to feel this moment. She wanted to stay in this moment for the rest of eternity.

[abeautylives]

Trip Around the Sun - Day Three

Read Part One Read Part Two

pairing: Joshxfemale!reader

word count: 13k this part

summary: A persistent and charismatic stranger disrupts the serenity of your tropical escape. What’s the harm in a vacation fling?

warnings: 18+ minors stay far away, summer Josh, language, drinking, mentions of sexual situations, explicit sexual content, minimal warnings here so as not to spoil anything

☀️☀️☀️

You wake with the sun, as you have nearly every morning since you’d arrived here. The curtains framing the door to your room’s balcony haven’t moved since you first stepped foot into the space, granting all celestial bodies permission to observe what you do in private.

Until last night, you haven’t given them much of a show.

Eyes still closed against the glare, you let your legs stretch to the end of the mattress and immediately notice two things: a distinct ache between your thighs that has nothing to do with unfulfilled need, and your bed is full of sand.

Oops. Last night…

Uncharacteristically quiet, as far as you could tell, after he’d reached orgasm, Josh had unknotted the bandana from around his neck and used it to wipe his cum from your pubic hair. You’d found it humorous but he didn’t seem in the mood to giggle with you, tossing it near his backpack and settling into your side, an arm and leg draped over your body and his face tucked into your neck. You heard him inhale deeply, and you definitely didn’t imagine him sighing into the aroma of your shampoo.

He’d assured you he was okay, “perfect even”, so you left it alone and petted over his hair, twirling the curls around your fingers until they were sticking out wildly, letting him drop kisses to your shoulder and run his hand over your skin in silence.

…Until he had shaken himself of the pensive state and grinned up at you, and asked if you were ready to go skinny dipping yet.

Rolling to your back and cracking your eyes open, you let your head fall to the side of the bed that he’s occupying. He’s laying stomach down, arms hugging the pillow to his face, white sheets tangled around his legs and resting so low across his back that his buttcrack is peeking out. His skin doesn’t seem to burn all that easily, light freckles dusted over his nose and cheeks and his shoulders a little more golden than they had been when you’d met him. He looks good, naked and in your bed.

On the moonlit beach he’d been reluctant to put his clothes back on, telling you that humans come into the world naked and are meant to be that way. You had agreed, and told him that he should absolutely be nude, always, but that you would prefer to be clothed to walk back to the resort. Steadfast in his beliefs, he’d shaken out the blanket and wrapped it around himself in lieu of stepping back into his shorts. Upon entering your room, he’d immediately ripped it off, thrown it across the bed and pulled you onto it. Hence the sand.

You watch the corner of his mouth turn up and relax again, as if he’s dreaming about the same things you’re remembering. How he had undressed you carefully the second time, lips trailing after his fingers, he’d acted like it was his first time seeing you stripped bare for him.

Not wanting to disturb his slumber, but unable to resist reaching out and touching him, your hand slides over the sheets until your fingertips meet the skin that’s stretched over his ribs.

“Mm, now who’s watching who sleep?”

“God damnit Josh!”

His voice had croaked past barely open lips, and still managed to startle you. He grins into the pillowcase. “It just never gets old… Why are you awake?” He peeks at you from under a heavy lid.

“Maybe I always wake up early, you’ll never know.” There’s that regret again, as soon as the words leave your mouth you wish you could pluck them out of the air and shove them back in but he just rolls to his back and yawns into the crook of his elbow.

“Your only flaw, I suppose everyone has at least one.” His eyes have both slipped closed again, arms lifted and hands tucked under his head. You’re searching his face, the broad expanse of his chest, the cut lines of his waist down to where they disappear beneath the sheets. Looking for his flaw, but you can’t manage to find it.

“Um… do you want coffee? I was thinking about going downstairs…”

“Don’t leave,” he pulls a hand from beneath his head to reach for yours, fingers laced together, “Isn’t there a coffee pot in here somewhere?”

“I want good coffee, a latte… cappuccino… macchiato. Something that doesn’t taste like dirt.” You raise to sit, tugging against his hold, urging him to come with you.

“So order it up here, call room service.”

Not really an option. “The coffee downstairs is free, you’re just lazy.”

He rolls to his side, head propped up on his fist to face you. “No…” He lifts your fingers to his lips. “I just would prefer to keep you au naturel and in this bed for as long as possible. In fact, why don’t you kiss me? The coffee can wait, mm… an hour or so.”

His turn to tug against you, he tries to pull you into him but you plant a palm onto his chest and keep your distance.

“No! You probably have morning breath!” Both of his hands are on you now, the sheets resting over his lap and your laughter ringing out as he tries to haul you on top of him.

“If you don’t kiss me now, you’ll never find out!”

That sting, that sudden pang of truth hurts just a little worse when it comes from him. Your body recoils from it with a tight gasp, he releases you as if your skin has sprouted thorns.

“Hey hey hey, are you okay?” His dark brows are knit together, his eyes bouncing around your face and down to where he’d been gripping your arms. “Did I hurt you?”

Wide-eyed, you meet the dripping honey and crystallized amber shining with concern in the soft morning light, and you realize you can’t live without finding out. Shaking your head, you slide back into his hold and onto his lap, the sheets pushed away and nothing separating his bare skin from yours. There’s still worry etched into his features as he watches your face, his hands settling on your hips with a hesitant touch. You try to smooth it away with your fingertips over his brow before cupping his face in your hands.

“I need to know,” your whisper lands on his lips, “I need to remember you just like this.”

Understanding washes over him, his eyes are warm pools of commiseration as he realizes what he’d said, and how you took it. “I’m sorry, I-“

You cut him off, pulling his face to yours and silencing his apology with the kiss he’d been fighting for. He’s stiff against you, irritated with himself for causing you even a moment of suffering but your lips are soft and sweet on his, and your hips tuck themselves tight into his lap. You feel it when he lets it go and melts into the kiss.

His hands squeeze the softness at your hips and slip lower, smoothing over the outside of your thighs and drawing a quiet hum from you. Your lips curve up against his before you pull them away.

Your hands move up to his hair, which is flattened on the side he’d been sleeping on and fluffed out on the other, your fingers sinking in and tangling themselves in the disarray. “Will you remember me, like this?”

He smiles, licks his lips before they stretch wide and put all of those perfect teeth on display as his head tilts, just so. Your own hair is a little wild, knotted at the ends and wavy from the humidity of the beach and your sweat from last night. There’s a tiny dark smudge of mascara at the corner of one eye, and a slightly darker smudge of red at the base of your neck, a mark that he’d left there. “I will never forget you, just like this. I promise.”

Promises, promises. He’s offered you a number of them in the time you’ve spent together.

I’ll get you there, I promise.

If you still like me when we get back, I’ll let you feel me all you want. Promise.

I’ll come find you, I promise.

He’s delivered on every single one.

“What else do you want from me, beautiful?” Your eyelids have lowered, your gaze gone dreamy, it’s written all over your face but he wants to hear you say it.

“Everything you’re able to give me.”

Fluidly, as if it takes no effort from him at all, he connects your lips in a heated kiss and shifts you out of his lap, laying you back across the cloud of white comforter that’s pushed to the end of the bed. When he starts to trail away from your mouth, moving across your jaw and down the column of your throat, you try to keep him close but he’s started a journey past your collarbones that takes a sojourn at your breasts.

He draws a fingertip down the line where pale skin meets bronzed before circling it over the pebbled flesh around the peak, and pulling a mewling whimper from you as he sucks the other into his mouth. His tongue rolls over your nipple and now you’re working to keep him there, teasing and torturing you perfectly, your arousal beginning to pool at your core. Redirecting his concentration, he grazes his teeth over your skin and then showers your other tit with the same careful attention.

An unconvincing groan of disappointment creeps from your throat when he pulls away but he murmurs up to you, “Don’t worry, I haven’t even gotten to the good part.”

His kisses across your stomach are rushed as he nears his destination.

Reaching the junction of your thighs, the tip of his nose runs through the fine hair there, a quiet hum floating up to your ears that pulls a corner of your mouth up into a charmed grin. When he speaks, his voice sends a vibration through you that has you clenching around nothing.

“Can I worship you, my moon goddess?”

Your grin grows, he did tell you he’s been called dramatic a time or two.

“Yeah Josh, make me glow…”

He chuckles against you, another delectable vibration. “You’re getting better at dealing with me when I’m annoying.”

Your response gets stuck in your throat when his fingers brush against your heated skin, and it pushes through as a low moan when he uses them to spread you open to him. “Josh.”

“Shh, look at you… perfect and pink, all for me.” Face framed by your thighs, he looks ravenous. The tip of his tongue peeks out to moisten his lips, he presses them together, purses them for just a second, then leans in and drags the flat of his tongue through you.

You watch him swallow the taste of you before your eyes close and he does it again.

His lips, those lips that had first irritated you with a confident smirk, then tempted you with seductive words, are working in tandem with his tongue to kiss you like you’ve never been kissed before. No one has ever put their face between your legs and acted like it was anything more than a burden, a means to an end, if they bothered to do it at all. But Josh is making love to you with his mouth, experiencing the flavor and texture of you, savoring every inch of you. Moaning directly into your cunt and the sound travels through you like a current, he keeps you from floating away on it with his arms circling your thighs, fingers gripping them tight. You’re echoing him with your own sounds released to the ceiling.

Scratching gently into his scalp, your fingers suddenly tighten to fists full of his curls when his tongue comes to a point and flicks over your clit.

“Fuck!”

“Mmm?” He doesn’t even pull away for a moment to ask if you want it again, if you want more.

“Yes! Yes, more, please!”

It’s slow at first, kitten-like licks to the most sensitive part of you, drawing you up, up, up… until he’s doing something you’ve definitely never felt before. Your eyes dart down to him and find that he’s already looking back, and somehow you can tell that if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied, he'd be wearing a devious grin.

Ohh, shit.

You know it’s his tongue that’s pressed against you, but it feels like something more. The way it’s moving feels familiar, almost like something battery powered that lives in the drawer of your nightstand at home.

“Josh what- how, oh fuck!”

Up, up, up until your hips are grinding into his mouth, your back arching away from the mattress, your hands pulling his hair at the roots. You can feel it coming, you’re right there, his head nodding and muffled mhm, mhmm, mhmm’s rumbling deep in his throat.

It hits you viciously, slamming into you like a rogue wave, pulling you under until you’re unsure which way is up, or how you’ll ever kick your way back to the surface. You cry out to him but you can’t even hear yourself through the rush.

He hears you though, his name spilling from your lips as he laps at the release spilling from your cunt. His own hips are rocking gently into the bed, unimaginably turned on and rock hard, he can’t help it.

When you’re able to draw a normal breath, able to open your eyes, the sunlight is almost too bright but you drop your gaze from the ceiling to where Josh’s cheek is rested on your inner thigh. He’s staring with unfocused eyes up your body, his mustache is a mess, the hair on his head isn’t much better. Somehow he shines even brighter.

“Get the fuck up here.” He blinks, your whisper breaking him out of his daze and lifting his eyes to you. You lift your eyebrows, trace a fingertip over his cheek until it dips behind the hair on his chin, coaxing him to rise and crawl over you. As soon as his face is hovering over yours, you pull him into a careless, wet kiss, your tongue pushing past his lips to swirl over his for the first time this morning. When he breaks away, a thin string of saliva keeps you connected until it snaps, you tuck your bottom lip behind your teeth and savor the remnants before you purse them in thought.

“Hm, that’s weird…” He quirks an eyebrow up, tilts his head for clarification. “Your morning breath tastes like pussy.”

He barks out a laugh, his nose scrunched up and his head thrown back so the sound cracks out into the room before he tucks his face into your neck, shoulders still shaking with his amusement.

“Only on good days, really good days.”

Leaned against the wall behind you, wearing a wrinkled white t-shirt and relatively unmarred green shorts, Josh is grinning at your reflection as he watches you brush your teeth.

“You’re lucky I like you, I could stay in bed all day. Dazzle you with my personality until I wear you down and convince you to just order the fucking room service.”

Your eyes roll just before you bend to spit into the sink. “Once again, the coffee and the food downstairs are free, and I’m starving. Also, no one said you have to come with me.”

“But-“

“But… You want to.” Turning to him, you loop your arms around his neck and twirl a damp curl at the base around your finger.

In bed, the taste of you still lingering between your lips and his dick resting heavily against your thigh, he’d continued to kiss you without making a move to slide inside despite the constant twitching of his hips. You reached between your bodies, an attempt to touch him, guide him to you but he’d refused.

“Josh, I want to. I want you.” You’d pleaded with him, confused and on the verge of being offended.

“I’m filthy, and not in a good way. There’s still sand all over me,” a kiss brushed over your lips, a soft reassurance that there could be nothing in this world that he would want more than you. “And a pretty distinct layer of sweat, and sex. I need a shower.”

“Take one with me?” A coy smile and an opportunity to get what you both needed.

He’d pushed off the bed and walked around it as your eyes followed, comfortable in his nakedness and unashamed of the erection leading the way and bobbing in the air as he moved. “You coming?”

You allowed him the time to wash himself, lazily doing the same as you watched his hands massage his own skin, suds of the hotel-provided body wash pushed over his chest before they followed the water down the center line of his torso and circled his navel. Below the trail of hair there, his dick still stood at full attention, and he had done a convincing job of ignoring it, cleaning himself as if his teeth weren’t gritted and the head wasn’t swollen and sensitive to his touch.

Beneath the spray, you’d rinsed yourself and squirted more soap into your hand, worked it into a lather and started to rub it into his shoulders.

“Mmm, took you long enough.” His head dropped forward as you washed his back, he watched your hands slide around him once you’d reached the bottom.

Chin tucked over his shoulder, you both watched your fingers still before they’d reached below the line of his tan. “Josh?”

In front of your eyes, his cock had jumped at the sound of your voice. “Yeah, beautiful…”

A hand reached for his and brought it forward, wrapped his own fingers around himself again. “Show me how you do it, when you’re alone. I wanna know what you’ll look like when you think of me.”

Stood like that for a few long moments, you watched him tighten his grip and pull slow strokes over himself, took note of the way he rolled his wrist, but when he ran the pad of his thumb over the head he had cursed sharply. Your arms unraveled from around his waist and you stepped out from under the spray, moved to observe from in front of him. His stomach tensed with each stroke, his breaths stuttered as he forced his eyes to remain open and on you.

“Lovely, captivating even.” His chuckle was tight in his throat, his own words repeated to him on a breathless whisper, his description of you from your first meeting.

“Do I captivate you, pretty girl?” His fist began moving faster, you could see the urge to reach his end written between his eyebrows, pulled together and creasing his smooth skin. Those brows shot up his forehead when you lowered yourself at his feet, dropped to your knees before him.

Face upturned, your eyelashes batted up at him, you settled your palms on your thighs and watched his thumb brush over his leaking tip again.

“Endlessly. Cum for me, Josh.”

“Fuck, yeah, okay.” His teeth pulled his bottom lip between them and bit down, it bounced back into place, pink and slick. “Open your mouth.”

Without question you did as he commanded, tongue pushed past your lips and laid flat for him. Just as he’d done on the beach, when he pulled himself from your body and pushed the head directly to his target, he pressed himself into the wet warmth of your tongue and spilled his release onto your tastebuds.

Pushing away from the wall, Josh pulls your arms from around his neck and lifts your hands to his face. Those lips press kisses over your fingers.

“You’re right, I’m gonna do whatever you want. I’m at your mercy.”

At your favorite table against the window, you’re sipping on your second latte laced with a generous dose of Kahlua. Across from you, Josh is shoveling food into his mouth like he can’t remember the last time he had a meal that wasn’t you. Your own plate had been cleared and pushed to the side but he’s on his second heaping helping. With an appetite like that, you wonder how he never grew past five-foot-nothing.

Mouth full of some kind of eggs covered in salsa, he talks around his food. “So, what would you like to do today, if not me?”

“Good question, you do make that decision incredibly difficult. You’re very attractive right now.”

He grins, cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk and somehow, it’s endearing. His gaze drifts past yours and follows something behind you, you watch him swallow hard and wipe around his mouth, fingertips pushing over his mustache. Suddenly, his brows lift in acknowledgment, his chin juts out with an upward nod of his head. Curiosity wins out and you turn in your chair to find whoever has caught his attention.

Across the bustling room, over the heads of dozens of perfect strangers, the only thing that stands out to you is one familiar face. Well, sort of familiar. Something about it sparks awareness in your brain, though you’re positive you’ve never seen the man with dark hair hanging well past his shoulders, or the raven-haired woman with her arm looped in his. But they’re looking right at you, the man nods his head in your direction, the same way Josh had.

The same exact way Josh had. He looks just like Josh. Only… different.

Your head whips back to him. “Who is that?”

He considers the question for a moment, takes a sip of his own coffee. “Would you believe me if I said I have no idea and I was just being polite because he looked at me first?”

Turning back to get another look at the guy, you find that the couple are already gone. “No….” Your eyes meet Josh’s again and for the first time, you see anxiety in them. “Is he related to you? Are you not here alone?”

Another sip of coffee before he sets it onto the table, pushes his plate to the side and folds his hands together in front of him. “He is, and I’m not. Not really.”

Your mouth is hanging open but as the confusion wears off, you realize that you’d only just assumed he was alone, because you had only ever seen him alone. “Okay… well, I mean, that’s cool I guess. I just thought- you never mentioned it.” Before you can stop it, you’re laughing a little harder than seems appropriate and Josh is looking at you like you’ve completely lost it.

“Am I missing something?”

“Sorry, it’s just… ironic. Maybe we were destined to meet, we’re a little too alike.” It’s his turn to be confused so of course, he tilts his head. Just so. “I’m not here alone either, not really.”

“Wait, seriously? Who are you here with?”

“You go first.” This revelation is funny to you, knowing nothing about each other only to find out you have the same secret.

He goes on to tell you how he ended up here with them, that the man with the long wavy hair that looks nothing like his, is his brother, his twin, and the woman on his arm is his girlfriend.

“Work has just been… hectic lately, insane, really. We work together, me and Jake-“

“His name is Jake?” The inappropriate laughter is back, remembering how you’d thought that Josh looked like a Jake and realizing that in some way, you were correct. The former is looking at you like you’re crazy again. “Sorry, sorry, keep going.”

“Yeah… so, we work together and there was finally just a break in our schedule, and they planned a vacation-“

“And you barged in? On their couple’s vacation? Is this just a habit of yours?”

He smiles and the apples of his cheeks turn a pretty shade of rosy pink. “Okay, I deserved that. But no, Jake asked if I wanted to tag along, just to get away. I usually prefer the mountains, more of an escape to nature kind of guy, but it was a sort of perfect opportunity. His girlfriend is great, like a member of our family, and if I had felt like I needed to, I could hang out with them.”

You like that, the tiny glimpse into his life, a peek at the relationships that you didn’t know he had.

“But instead, you found me.”

“I found you.”

You hold each other’s gaze for a moment, allowing the last couple of days to sink in before your curiosity gets the best of you again. “What do you and Jake do? For work?”

“Oh, uh, we’re sort of, in the music industry.” His eyes drop to the table, his bottom lip working between his teeth while he debates on whether or not he should elaborate, not wanting to give you any information that may change the way you’re looking at him. You don’t seem to pick up on his hesitation and in the end, he decides against it. “So tell me, who is your mystery travel companion?”

“My mom.” His features transform, a bright grin with only a hint of judgment in his eyes.

“You’ve left your mom alone here, this whole time?!”

“No, she’s with her best friend. I’m here purely by accident, a change of circumstance. Their other friend was supposed to be here, it’s like a… ‘girl’s getaway’ thing they do every couple years, but she had to cancel last minute. Everything was already booked and paid for, no refunds and all that. My mom asked if I wanted to take her place.”

All of this was an accident, serendipitous. Fate, or something less whimsical.

“Well where have they been?” He’s replaying every time that he’s come upon you, sunbathing by the pool, tipsy on champagne in the middle of the night, eating dinner at this table. Alone.

“Around. I was hanging out with them more, before...”

“Before I laid siege to your entire vacation.”

You can’t help but let the corners of your mouth turn up at the truth of it. “Exactly. But that’s why I can’t charge things to the room. Like the room service you were so insistent upon.”

His hand moves through the air, waving the notion away, “You should’ve told me, I could’ve had them charge it to my room. We could’ve had breakfast in bed!”

“I’ve seen you eat breakfast, I don’t think it would’ve been as sensual as you seem to believe it would.”

After only a small amount of grumbling in protest, you’re able to persuade Josh to spend some time at the pool, but not without a little compromise.

“I have a bikini that you haven’t seen me in yet! I get this weird feeling that you’ll like it.”

Hand in hand you’re walking the corridors that lead back to your room. There are other people about, coming and going, walking past you as if there’s anything perfectly average about your pairing, and Josh lowers his voice to avoid being overheard.

“I’ve seen you naked in the sand, spreading your pussy for the stars, beautiful. I think I’ve moved past getting my rocks off over a bikini.”

His words slow your stride until you stop, tugging him to a halt a step ahead of you. It strikes you then, the things you’ve let a stranger inspire you to do, to say, the way he’s changed you.

He’s watching you curiously, a knowing smirk pulling one corner of his mouth up and his dimple to the surface of his cheek until you step into him and wrap your arms around his waist. When your head drops to his shoulder he holds you like that, his own arms circling your back, palms pressed to you and pulling you in tight.

“Thank you, Josh.”

He doesn’t know exactly what he’s done to deserve your gratitude, but he accepts it anyway. “Hmm, happy to be of service. But I’m not going to the pool unless you swim in the ocean with me first.”

You parted ways at your room, both of you needing to change clothes but reluctant to leave each other. He kissed you there, in the doorway, unconcerned with anyone who might see as he pulled your bottom lip into his mouth and sunk his teeth into it.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t wanna invite me in? Give me like, fifteen minutes, tops.”

Hands against his chest, you push him away, just far enough to separate his mouth from your neck. “Sounds riveting, how could I pass up fifteen minutes of bliss?”

“Okay, give me thirty.”

Pushing him out of the door frame, you blow him a kiss. “Go change, then come find me.”

He backs away slowly, two steps out into the hall. “You know I will.”

Changed into your swimsuit, you’re standing in front of the full length mirror fluffing your hair and debating whether or not you want to throw it up into a top knot before you head out, when a knock on your door causes your heart to shoot to your throat.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

Stepping hesitantly to the door, a peek through the peephole reveals none other than Josh, terrible sunglasses in place, donning his swim trunks and Tevas and nothing else. You crack the door open slowly and prop yourself against the frame, a knee bent and hip cocked out, arms crossed over your chest.

“Is impatience going to be the theme of the day?”

He’s staring, lips parted as if he had something to say but instantly forgot it. You can only tell that he’s scanning the length of your body because he’s doing nothing to hide it, his eyes are shielded but his face distinctly drops to your hips and moves back up as he takes in the rest. When it levels back with your own face, he reaches up and slides his Oakleys away, revealing wide, hungry eyes.

“Oh, I thought you’d moved past getting your rocks off over a bikini, handsome.”

He swallows thickly before he speaks. “Learn something new about myself every day, beautiful. You gonna let me in?” You know exactly what he means, and you’re in no position to deny him this time, not with the way he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. Turning back into the room, you nudge the door to swing open farther and allow him to follow you.

“What the fuck is this contraption?”

Your bathing suit, casually described on the website as having bondage detailing, consists of a few satiny emerald green bits of nothing held together by tiny silver rings and strappy pieces that cross-cross and sit high on your hips and outline your tits.

“You like it?” You turn back to him and continue to move backwards, deeper into the room, and he looks like he’s still trying to make sense of it as he discards his sunglasses on a table.

“Do I like it? I don’t even want anyone else to see you in it. Fucking hell.” His hands are reaching for you and you stop to let them make contact, his fingers immediately tugging at the straps over your hip bones and snapping them back into the thin skin there. The sharp sting shoots straight to your cunt, the way he’s laying claim to you already has arousal dampening the material that covers it.

“They’re gonna see me in it, but they won’t know what I let you do to me in it.” He groans, a low rumbling sound that sinks into your ears as his fingers move to your chest and he steps into you. Just like the first time he touched you, he slips one under the strap that’s curved to the outside of your breast and runs his nail along your skin.

“What are you planning to let me do, hm? And don’t say ‘whatever you want, Josh’ because I can think of a great many things that would surely ruin you for the next man privileged enough to have you…”

The hand not brushing over your nipple has slid around your back and down, bypassing your swimsuit completely to grip the bare plushness of your ass. With your body pulled flush against him, you can feel how badly he wants to do just that. Ruin you.

Your own voice sounds foreign to you, dripping so heavily with lust that you’re surprised you can’t taste it.

“Whatever you want, Josh.”

In a flurry of movement, your body is turned away from him, a fierce grip on your hip and a forceful palm on your back put you in position, bent over the foot of the bed. Moving against the back of your thighs, you can feel him lose the swim trunks and shimmy them to the floor, immediately followed by his fingers slipping between your legs and jerking your suit aside. Those fingers dance over your skin before spreading you open to him and swiping through the slick that’s collected there.

“I’ve hardly even touched you, haven’t touched you. What are you so hot and bothered for, pretty girl?”

All you can do is whine, wiggle your hips and beg him without words to keep going, to do something. Desperate to see him, to know his next move, you crane your neck to watch him over your shoulder and catch the exact moment that he brings his hand in front of his face, and spits into his palm.

He meets your eyes as he strokes it over himself, his lips stretching into that devilish grin that tells you to brace yourself. You think you’re prepared but as soon as he lines himself up, he’s plunged inside you to the hilt, crashing into your cervix and knocking you off your hands. Your cry is muffled by the bedding, and when you try to recover and lift yourself back up, he pushes your face back to the mattress.

“Stay just like that for me, baby.” His hips start to rock, “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.” He puts his weight into it, your body already bouncing off of his with each push into you. “Do you understand?”

Your head nods under his hand, but his fingers wrap themselves in the hair that you’d left down, and they pull. Hard.

“Tell me.”

“Yes! Yes I understand Josh, I do, keep go-“

He slams into the backs of your thighs, over and over, the sound of your skin meeting is echoing through the room. His hold in your hair loosens, both hands brought to wrap around the sides of your ribcage then dragged down your torso until they reach the straps hugging your hips. They tangle themselves there, shoved haphazardly through the elastic and pulling you onto his cock. Again, again, keeping your ass raised high and your body from being pushed flat to the bed by his.

You’re all but screaming into the sheets, the fabric muting the sound but he can’t be deterred, hypnotized by the vision of himself sinking into you, the shiny green fabric between your legs moving with him, soft and dragging over his dick, collecting the wetness that’s coating him.

“God damn, I need to see you, more of you.” In an instant you’re left empty, gasping at the loss of him, legs trembling as they try to support you without his hold. Your knees almost buckle when he rips your bottoms down over your ass, but he pushes you onto the bed before they can give out. Flipped onto your back, you’re met with a sight you promise yourself that you’ll never forget.

He looks… untamed, wild. His hair is stuck to his forehead, a sheen of sweat shining there, matching the layer sitting on his flushed and heaving chest. With your legs pressed together, he wrenches them straight up to rest against him, your tanned skin against his freshly sun kissed shoulder as he kneels to the mattress and slides himself back into you. Your mutual sighs float into the air.

“Do you even know how gorgeous you are? Every part of you.” His sweetness is back, causing your teeth to ache and your pussy to throb around him. He presses his lips to the side of your calf, rested beside his cheek, murmuring into your silken skin. “How will anyone else ever compare?”

It’s probably not what he’d intended, but he had just succeeded in ruining you completely.

You respond through a tight throat in the only way that feels safe.

“Josh…” His eyes meet yours, his lids heavy and pupils distended and dark, you’re sure yours look the same. “Fuck me, harder, please.”

He twitches inside you and wraps his arm around your legs, pushes another fast kiss into your calf before his lips curl back up into that grin that promises to give you what you want. His other hand reaches for the bikini bottoms still wrapped around your thighs, pulls on an elastic strap until it won’t stretch any farther, and releases it with a snap.

“Fuck!”

“Yes, dear.” He unleashes on you with a force you wouldn’t have expected to be contained within his small frame, your body being pushed toward the headboard and his knees crawling over the sheets, never letting himself leave the searing heat of your cunt. When you hit the pillows and can’t be pushed any farther, he grunts past a tense jaw, his lips barely opening to form the words.

“Why don’t you show me those perfect tits, since you wanna be on display so badly.”

As if his voice commands your muscles, your hands spring to your chest and pull the straps and triangles of your top aside, your breasts bouncing their way free. Your bottom lip is trapped between your teeth, a feeble attempt to keep yourself from shrieking and howling like an animal as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“Stop doing that, I wanna hear you.”

“Josh- shit, it’s like 9:30 in the morning!”

“Whose fault is that? Touch yourself, tell me how it feels.”

Your legs are crossed at the ankles and still propped over his shoulder, so you keep your hands at your chest and squeeze your tits, pushing them together as his eyes burn holes in your skin. Locked onto the spectrum of colors wrapped around your curves, he growls as the beads of sweat across his brow start to break free and drip down his face. You feel his own fingertips dig into the meat of your thigh as yours brush over your nipples.

“More, tell me.”

Under his total control, you fondle yourself, pinching and twisting, moaning your satisfaction, mumbling your words of ecstasy.

So good, you fuck me so good Josh.

“I know I do, tell me how you feel.”

“Soft… too soft- oh!” He’s losing his punishing rhythm as you speak, jerking into you sharply. “Let me touch my clit, Josh please!”

He rears back and pulls himself from your body, a sob wracking your chest at the sudden and overwhelming emptiness, but he rips your bikini bottoms down your legs, tosses them over his shoulder, whips one of your legs around him and pushes his hands to your inner thighs, spreading you wide, an immediate ache in your hips.

Through labored breaths, his body streaming sweat, he whispers, “Do it.”

As your hand snakes down your stomach, he pushes his head against your entrance again. When your fingertips make contact with your overstimulated flesh, he slides into you slowly, eyes darting from your yellow and green tipped fingers beginning to draw circles, to your cunt sucking him inside until he disappears.

“I’ve taken a thousand pictures of you in my mind, beautiful. This one might be my new favorite.” He rocks into you softly, watching you bring yourself pleasure, feeling the effects of it as you tighten around him. “Who fucks you better, me or you?”

You Josh, you you you.

You’re peering over the edge of the cliff, nothing but bottomless ocean below and it’s calling to you, its voice sounds like his. Your fingers pick up speed, but he continues to move slowly inside you, watching, waiting.

“Close, I’m close…”

“Take yourself there, I’ll catch you when you fall.”

His touch on your thighs goes soft, and that’s all it takes. Every muscle tenses, but when you take that leap it feels like you’re floating away on the breeze.

From above you, he sees it take you, feels it grip you as your body bows off the bed and squeezes him until it feels like he could pop. But you’re murmuring quietly, no guttural moan, no high pitched whine or curses, just his name, over and over as your head sinks deeper into the pillow.

“Come back to me, baby…” When your eyelids flutter, he pumps his hips into you until they open and your eyes try to focus on him. “There she is, that looked like it felt heavenly. Did it?”

Vision hazy, your voice sounds distant to your own ears. “Yeah… You didn’t…?”

“No, not yet. Wanted you to have that one to yourself, you earned it.”

He’s smiling down at you, a subtle upturn of his lips, gentle and sweet. It hurts your heart. “Need you to cum, Josh. I earned it.” Summoning the strength to reach for him, you grasp at the back of his neck, meeting him in the middle and pushing a hard kiss to his lips. He snaps into you, once… twice.

“Yeah you did, I’m right there. Lay back.”

With a hand to the center of your chest, he pushes you back to the pillows. He works himself back into a faster rhythm, you watch the way it changes his demeanor. No less sweet, but a little less gentle. He grabs at your hands, pulls them back to your chest, cups each of your breasts in your own palms.

Your hips are pushing up to meet his thrusts, curiosity raising one of your eyebrows.

“I’m gonna cum on them, can I?” His throat is tight, barely hanging on.

“God, yes,” You push them together, how you had before. “Whatever you want, Josh…”

He jerks away, out of your body and hauls himself over you, pushing one of your legs flat to the bed. You pop up to your elbows, hands still pushing your chest forward for him, presented to him, and as soon as he takes his cock in his fist and strokes it, he’s shooting his release into your cleavage.

“Fuck! Holy shit.” He’s cumming hard, fist pulling rope after rope from his body, painting the curves of your chest with it. With a final shudder of his shoulders, his hand falls away and he collapses, rolling to lay at your side.

His ragged breathing is the only sound to be heard for several long minutes, until you start giggling. When your giggles grow louder and turn into a full blown fit of laughter, he manages to roll from his back to look at you. He watches you for a moment, your eyes squeezed shut and smile stretched wide.

“What is so funny?”

“You got it all over my bathing suit!”

“Hm…” After a glance to assess the mess he’s made of you, he shifts to his back again, gaze drifting to the ceiling. “I guess you can’t wear that one. Damn.”

“You did that on purpose!”

“Yeah, maybe.” He knows he doesn’t have the right, not that he would even if you were his, but he really didn’t love the idea of anyone else getting to see you, wrapped up like a gift that should have been only for him. “Let’s get you cleaned up, we have swimming to do.”

You can feel his eyes on you, keeping hold of you whenever his hands aren’t, alternating from a soft caress to a firm grip and back as the hours pass. He doesn’t seem to care who’s watching as you float together in the crystal clear sea, your legs wrapped around his waist as he holds you there, fingertips tucked beneath the lemon-yellow fabric of your swimsuit and pressed into the soft swell of your ass. Kisses are casually given, his lips touching you whenever they’re near enough, which is often.

Stretched across the sand, drying in the early afternoon sun, he’s on his stomach while you’re flat on your back, both of your heads rested on crossed arms. When you sigh, a content but dramatized sound, he props himself up on his elbows to watch you answer his impending question.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, beautiful?”

Your eyes remain closed and shielded behind the lenses of your shades, but a wistful grin tugs at your lips. “Can you imagine if this was our life? If we didn’t go home to our jobs and our bullshit, we just wasted away in paradise together?”

You crack an eye open to catch his smile stretch before he hangs his head and lets out a sigh of his own. “I can imagine it,” he has, “I don’t think Jake would appreciate that too much but it does sound… idyllic.”

“Jake?”

“My brother, I work with him, remember?” Ohh, right, Jake.

“Right, of course. Can you just let me be delusional for the next, like, twelve hours or so?”

“We can both live in delusion for a while, if you want.” You let your head fall to the side, an eyebrow raised in silent challenge for him to elaborate. Rolling to face you, with his cheek settled onto his fist, he focuses past your sunglasses and does just that. “I’ll tell everyone here that we’re on our honeymoon,” he pauses as you laugh, then continues to make it more ridiculous, “High school sweethearts who finally took the plunge and tied the knot, two kids at home staying with my parents for the week.”

“No one would believe you, I don’t even have a ring!” You lift your hands, arms outstretched toward the sun and fingers wiggling to prove your point.

“Left them at home in the safe, not smart to travel with them.”

Now you roll to face him, testing his commitment to the bit. “Hm, how old are the kids?”

As quickly as you’ve asked it, he has an answer. “Three, they’re twins. It’s genetic, after all.”

Pleased with himself, he grins as you giggle at the life he’s fantasized for you.

“So, my dearest, would you like to grab something for lunch?” It dawns on you, with his frivolous use of an affectionate pet name, that your opportunities to share a meal with him are quickly running out. Your expression must have taken a turn toward seriousness, because his mirrors it as you sit up and pull him with you.

“Darling?” The crease between his eyebrows smooths as the delivery of your own name for him lands and blooms within his chest. Mischief returns to his eyes and his head tilts, just so. “Why don’t we go back upstairs…” You’re already standing, sand falling from your skin until you’re left with only a fine layer coating the backside of your body, tugging at both of his hands.

“And?” He’s brushing the sand away from his stomach without breaking contact with your eyes, eager to hear whatever you may be suggesting. Without question or second thought, his arms circle their way around your waist when you step into him and press a kiss to his jaw, whispering into his ear.

“Let’s order room service,” his earlobe tugged past your lips by the tip of your tongue, your teeth nip into it and you feel the shiver run through him, “I want you to fuck me on the balcony while we wait for it.” The groan that creeps past your ear is quiet but his hands pull you in tighter. “And again when we’re done. I need you, again and again.”

Less could’ve been said and he would have been convinced. You eye each other carefully as you rinse quickly under the tepid spray of an outdoor shower, hungrily as you fumble with your key card, Josh’s fingers dancing along your spine. As soon as the handle turns he’s pushing you through the doorway and following closely behind, but instead of pulling you into him, he sprawls across your freshly made bed and grabs the room phone from the side table.

“What would you like, dear? Anything you want, you can have.” The honey and amber are sparkling up at you, laughter dancing in their warmth. You play along.

“You know what I like, darling. Just hurry up and order it, I’m so hungry.” From the foot of the bed, you watch his eyes follow your hand as you drag it down the front of your body, between your breasts and over your stomach. “Starving.”

He hasn’t moved, hasn’t lifted the handset from the receiver to place the call, he looks like he’s hardly taking in breath but you can see that he’s growing hard in his shorts. Seconds are ticking by and all you can imagine is time wasted, time that you don’t have.

“Josh…” His eyes snap to yours at the sound of your voice, a commanding whisper. Feeling bold, feeling desperate, your hands move quickly to pull at the strings holding your bathing suit together, allowing it to drop from your body and hit the floor. “I said hurry.”

You turn from him and make your way to the balcony door, flipping up the lock and sliding it open. With a final glance over your shoulder, you look back to find him with the phone up to his ear and a finger on the button to call the front desk as you cross the threshold and step into the heat, leaving the door open behind you. Within a minute, a seemingly endless sixty seconds as you stand exposed, bare for anyone who might chance a look upward, you hear the phone slam into the receiver. A strong arm wrapped around your waist pulls you back into the room and against his own bare skin.

His breath over your skin raises goosebumps as he growls into your ear. “You want them to see me taking what’s mine, dearest?”

Yes. God yes. You’re sure no one would actually notice you, three floors up and tucked away behind the fronds of several palm trees, but the risk of it has you slick with need between your thighs.

“Please.”

He does, his hands covering yours, wrapped together around the balcony’s railing as he loses himself inside you slowly, deliberately, whispering against the skin of your shoulder to keep quiet. Your bottom lip is tucked tight between your teeth, you’re sure it’ll be swollen and bruised when you’re done but you’ve never cared less about anything.

A quiet whine escapes you when he pulls out of your body but he’s far from finished with you, he just needs to be closer and he tells you so as he tugs you back into the room and eases you onto the bed.

Just as he coaxes a gentle, fluttering climax from you, the food arrives. You almost yell for it to be left in the hall, but you find that your voice is weak and his is full of amused laughter.

“Coming!” He bounds from the bed and wraps one of the hotel robes around himself, tying it closed but doing little to hide the arousal standing straight out from between his legs. The servers pretend not to notice, and Josh ushers them away with his natural charm and a smile on his face, pulling the cart into the room and locking the door.

He must have ordered one of everything on a menu you’d never even seen, along with two bottles of champagne.

🌙🌙🌙

You don’t make it back down to the pool, or the beach. The sun is setting and the only time you’ve left your room is when you stepped back out onto the balcony, giggling like children and drunk on champagne, feeling distinctly adult as he sat and pulled you into his lap and onto his cock.

You’d found yourself there over and over again since the food arrived, bodies connected even as you picked over the selection, he slipped inside you for minutes at a time, fucking into you at his leisure, whenever the moment called for it. He hasn’t cum once, not since this morning, after breakfast. You, however. He’s brought you up and over that crest so many times you’ve lost count, sometimes while he’s buried inside you, other times with his mouth, every time with intention and incredible restraint. He’s edging himself and you’re reaping all of the benefits, he’s hot and rock hard as you do little more than roll your hips into his lap.

“I could live here forever, just like this.” His hips are barely moving, his self-control unmatched as he murmurs, sounding lost to the feeling. “Your perfect cunt wrapped around me. I could die like this.” A quiet groan slips from his mouth as your body squeezes him.

The alcohol loosens your lips. “Tell me more, Josh. Tell me how you’d live and die to be inside me, to fill me up.” It ends on a gasp as his hips nearly catapult you off of him, but his hands around the small of your waist keep you close.

The sun has disappeared completely, giving way to the moonlight and cloaking the impenetrable bubble of your balcony in darkness. Your back meets his chest as he pulls you against him, his arms encircling you, a hand finding its home over one of your breasts.

He breathes into your ear, “I’d give anything, everything I have, for the chance to fill you completely, let you have it all.”

The way you whimper at his words is pathetic, laced through with submission. You want it, need it.

“Josh please, just do it.”

The groan elicited this time is louder, longer, thick with yearning. “I can’t, baby. I just- can’t.” He’s stopped rocking beneath you, but you’re rolling into him harder, begging him to give in.

“You can, it’s okay, I need to know what it feels like, what you look like.” Your ass is grinding into his lap as hard as the angle will allow, but his fingers sink into the meat of your thighs until his grip is hurting you, halting your movement. “Josh…”

“Get off of me.”

It hurts worse than the death grip he still has on your legs, stunning you into a lingering silence.

“Go lay on the bed, beautiful.” The hurt sitting like a stone in your stomach blooms into something warm, an excitement that you can feel tingling in the tips of your fingers and toes. His hands fall away from you and he waits, ever patient, for you to do as he asked.

You hear him suck a hiss through his teeth as you slide off of his lap, off of him. Wordlessly, you leave him there, taking only a second to look back, to find his head leaned all the way back, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, his hands flexing against the narrow arms of the chair. His dick still standing straight up from his lap.

There’s a cloak of severity covering his features when he finally comes inside, his face hard set, jaw now flexing as he clenches and releases it. You’ve waited for him, not too long, hair splayed out over the pillows, staring at the ceiling and counting the seconds. He didn’t let too many pass.

When he reaches the side of the bed, his hand immediately finds one of your ankles and tugs gently, just enough to shift your body toward him, his eyes raking over you from where his hand rests, up until he reaches your eyes. The crystallized amber sparkles in the dim bedside light, and you know he’s about to say something that will either make you laugh or make you want to cry.

He starts with your name, rolls it around on his tongue and shapes it with those lips, pushes it past those teeth. “Can I be delusional for a few minutes? And I mean that, this will only take a few minutes.”

That much is obvious, he’s been bringing himself to the edge of an orgasm for probably five, maybe six hours. You giggle as your head nods permission for him to live in delusion.

“Thank you, darling…” Timidly, as if for the first time he’s feeling shy, he climbs onto the bed and hovers over you. You would swear there’s a tremor in his muscles as he holds himself there, eyes locked onto yours, dick resting heavy and low against your abdomen. His hips begin to rock almost imperceptibly, as if he’s lost all control and simply can’t stop them. “Will you let me… Could I love you? Just for a few minutes, just to feel it. Please?”

The laughter dancing on your lips dies swiftly, but a soft smile remains, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes that you refuse to let spring forth. You don’t trust yourself to speak so you nod your head again, and he only sighs, giving in to what he desires.

One of his hands drops between you, wrapping around himself and wasting no time in lining himself up at your cunt, weeping from overstimulation and the anticipation of something completely different. He pushes inside you slowly though your body offers no resistance, sucking him in until he’s seated exactly where he belongs, hips pressed flush against yours. You stay just like that for a long moment, unmoving until you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer, his lips finding yours in a kiss coated in unspoken emotion.

His body covers yours completely, no space left between you as he starts to rock against you, breaking from your kiss to look into your eyes, his hand coming up to rest at your cheek. “What have you done to me, love? I don’t even know myself anymore.”

You feel the same, knowing that the woman leaving here tomorrow is not the same one who had gotten off the plane just days ago, but you don’t know how to tell him that. You allow your body to express it, legs pulling him in with each shallow thrust, hands sliding up the sticky skin of his back until they sink into the tangles of his hair and pull his lips back to yours. Your tongues meet in a shy caress to match the soft pleasure coursing through your veins.

He breaks away to tuck his face into the crook of your neck, whispering into the space. “Are you sure about this? I need you to be sure, for both of us.”

Understanding dawns on you, his trepidation to cross this boundary is giving way to your need to have all of him. “I’m sure, it’s okay Josh, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t. Do you trust me?”

It’s irrational, senseless, the way he trusts you. For no reason other than he’s chosen to. The gentle rhythm of his hips stutters, just slightly, and you know he’s about to succumb to what he’s been denying himself for hours.

“Let go Josh, let me see you…”

Lifting himself over you again, allowing you a perfect view of tensed muscles shining with beads of sweat, he glances down to where you’re connected, his thrusts picking up speed as his brows knit together. He offers no unnecessary warning, no verbal alert to his intention as he slams into the backs of your thighs once, meets your eyes with his and does it a second time.

It happens in slow motion, or that’s the way it etches itself into your memory anyway, the way his face contorts almost as if he’s in pain just before you feel the heat of his release seep into you. His jaw slackens and a string of curses and praise float past his lips as he pumps you full, blinding you with the beauty of his complete satisfaction as you feel it overflowing from between your legs.

His own overstimulation takes over before he’s even empty, his quiet exclamations turning into soft whimpers as he rides it out, giving you everything.

“That’s it baby, so fucking good…” You offer encouragement from the pillows, he sucks in a sharp gasp as it finally ends.

“Oh my god-“ His body gives out and he collapses onto you, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

You’re not sure how long you hold him there, fingers trailing everywhere that you can reach, mapping out the feeling of him just like this. He grows soft inside you, a mess left between you that you cherish, already mourning the moment that you’ll have to wash it away. You might have fallen asleep that way but neither of you will let it happen, laying in silence for what could’ve been minutes or hours.

“I’ll remember you like this.”

He shifts to lay beside you and you turn to each other, he reaches for your hand and brings your fingertips to his lips before tangling his with them. “You say that as if this is over. Do we end here, beautiful?”

“Let’s figure it out in the morning. We can live in delusion until then, right?”

☀️☀️☀️

For the first time in six days, the shrill sound of a phone rips you out of sleep and out of an unrealistic, but eerily tangible, dream. Beside you, Josh jolts awake, seemingly confused as to where the offensive tune is coming from.

“What the fuck,” his voice is little more than a croaking whisper as he forces himself from the sheets to find the source of the disrespectful racket, digging his forgotten phone out of the pocket of his shorts. As he grumbles an irritated “what do you want”, you stretch for your own phone to check the time, your stomach knotting as you realize you should start getting ready to go. While he has a muted conversation, you drag yourself from the bed and into reality, immediately heading to the bathroom and turning the water on for a shower.

Your eyes are closed against the spray when he joins you, his hands coming to rest at your hips cause your heart to race, his last chance to startle you and chuckle against your shoulder when you slap at him playfully.

His lips move over your skin as the steaming water threatens to rinse away any evidence that he’d ever been there. “I ordered coffee to the room. Don’t worry, I’m paying for it,” he adds before you can protest, though you know he’d done the same for the food he’d ordered yesterday. “Jake needs to see me, wouldn’t tell me what for.”

A lump forms in your throat so quickly that you struggle to swallow it down as you twist to face him. “No, not yet. Please don’t go yet.”

He brings a hand up to cup your jaw in his palm, his thumb rubbing over your cheek. “No, of course not. I’m not going anywhere.”

His kisses are sweet and sad as he places them to your lips, across your jaw and trails them down your neck and back up. His hands are possessive and generous as he works conditioner into your hair and washes himself from your body.

You compel yourself to get travel-ready, drinking your latte as you moisturize your skin and dry your hair. He watches and sips his own coffee, perched on the bathroom counter. You wait until the last possible second to put your clothes on, a pair of soft denim shorts and a loose-fitting t-shirt hiding your body from him for what feels like the first time and the last time.

“What time do you have to head down?” His question is quiet, as if he had to force it to exist at all. Before you can answer, his phone starts ringing again.

“Do you need to get that?” Your own question is merely a whisper laced in anguish over these being the beginnings of the last moments you’ll spend in his light.

He shakes his head, but as soon as the ringing stops, it starts again. You can see the barely contained, seething anger on his face.

“What Jacob?!”

The volume of his voice alone rattles you, he’s venomous over the interruptions but you can’t say that you don’t understand. The seconds are once again ticking by too rapidly as you stare blankly, his frustration written into his features.

“Can it wait, like,” his eyes dart to yours, you never told him when you had to be downstairs to check out and board the shuttle to the airport. Your lips move silently, an hour, “Fuck, can it wait an hour?”

The words can’t be made out by you, but you can tell the answer he receives isn’t the one he’d wanted as he agrees to go to his brother, a sharp curse on the tip of his tongue as he ends the call and shoves his phone into his pocket.

“I will be right back, I promise. Will you stay here?” His eyes are wide and wild, conflicting emotions swimming in pools of honey. You can feel your head nodding solemnly.

“I’ll be here.”

The kiss he leaves you with is fast and hard, pushed into your lips as he pulls your face to his and he’s out the door just as quickly. As soon as it closes behind him, your fingertips are pressed to your mouth, holding onto the feeling he’d left behind. You turn back into the room, surveying the last of the items that you need to tuck into your suitcase.

At some point leaning toward the middle of the night, you’d untethered yourself from Josh just long enough to pack your things haphazardly, knowing you’d likely regret it once you were home. You couldn’t bring yourself to care then, with him propped against the headboard, watching you quietly. He’d pulled you back to the mattress once you’d decided to finish in the morning, wrapped himself around you and battled sleep at your side. You don’t know what time it was when you eventually lost the fight.

The sound of your own phone vibrating on the nightstand where you’d left it snaps you out of your contemplation.

You find a succession of texts on the screen.

Mom: Hey hun, hopefully you’re awake

Mom: Change of plans, we have to meet the shuttle in about 35 mins

Mom: If you don’t respond in 5 I’ll call, but I didn’t wanna interrupt anything lol

She knew you’d been spending your time with someone else, you’d had to explain away the time you weren’t spending with her.

The news she’s delivered is like a punch to the gut, it steals your breath.

Me: Ok, I’ll be there

Fuck.

Josh made it to his brother’s room in record time, nearly sprinting down corridors and flying down and back up stairs rather than waiting for elevators. It’s not a particularly short journey to the other side of the sprawling hotel, he’s panting and almost dripping sweat as he slams his fist against the door.

Jake makes him wait, in no hurry to grant him access, knowing that he’s already pissed and he’s about to make it worse. When a fist meets the door again, it finally swings open. Josh doesn’t move to enter the room however, remaining in the hall with both eyebrows raised expectantly on his forehead.

“What,” Josh’s breath is still heaving, “is so important that it couldn’t wait one fucking hour?”

Casual and irritatingly calm, his twin seems damn near relaxed, black linen shirt hanging open, lower half still adorned in the sweatpants he probably slept in. “Why don’t you come in for a minute, Josh.” Jake steps back to allow him inside, leading him through to the glass door of the balcony. “Want a smoke? You look like you could use one.”

Only grumbling in response, Josh follows to take a seat opposite his brother at the table outside, Jake’s view only slightly better than the one from the balcony he’d fucked you on so many times yesterday. There are fewer palms in the way of the crystal turquoise ocean, which Josh stares out over as Jake lights a cigarette and passes it to him. Without meeting his eyes, he plucks it from his brother’s fingers and takes a deep drag.

On the exhale, he mumbles, “I don’t have time for this, I have to go back to her-”

“That’s precisely what I’d like to speak to you about.”

That garners Josh’s attention, his head whipping to the side, eyes narrowed. “What about it?”

Jake’s lips are pursed, cigarette held firmly between his first two fingers as his arm rests on the table. The smoke curls in the air between them, and he meets Josh’s fiery gaze through the veil of it. “I’m trying to prevent you from doing something incredibly stupid.”

He watches Josh’s mouth fall open, indignant. “Like what? Say goodbye? Jake I’ve been fucking her for three days,” it’s almost true, the details unimportant in this moment, “You don’t think I owe her at least a ‘goodbye’?”

“That’s the thing, isn’t it?” They stare at each other for a long moment, very nearly identical eyes boring into one another’s. “You weren’t just fucking her, were you?”

There’s no way he could possibly know that, no way he’d even be able to make an assumption. Josh has hardly seen or spoken to him in days, but it seems he’s somehow forgotten about a twin’s intuition. Besides, the fact that he’s kept his distance has been telling enough.

Jake chooses his next words carefully. “What exactly do you think happens when she leaves here?”

Exasperated and defensive, Josh sighs. “I don’t know, honestly, but I want to find out.”

Head shaking, Jake sits up in his chair and leans toward his brother. “It’s not a good idea, just cut it off.”

Josh is already stamping his cigarette out in the glass ashtray between them, standing from his chair and shuffling past to re-enter the room and get the fuck out of there. A firm grip around his wrist stops him in his tracks.

“I’m serious Josh. It’s not gonna work out, what the fuck are you thinking?” Jake rises from his chair just in time for Josh to shake free of his hold and shove him backwards.

“You’re wasting my time! I didn’t even properly say goodbye to her when I left her room, because you-”

“Why do you need some drawn out, heartfelt goodbye? You’re never going to see her again, do you get that?” Jake can’t understand how this isn’t making sense, how Josh can’t see how foolish it is to stay connected to a stranger, who he’s positive has no idea who either of them are, what they do. “Is all of this,” he gestures to the situation in front of him, Josh’s frantic breathing, the panic in his eyes, “worth the pain of not just letting her go?”

His other half feels things deeply, he knows because he does too, they are one in the same. He can feel the battle between Josh’s head and heart as if it’s happening within himself. He knows Josh’s heart is winning, and this is not going to end in its favor.

“Fuck you, Jake.” There’s no heat behind his words, just an urgency to get back to her room. Regardless, Jake knows he’ll be the one that’s there to pick up the pieces when this ultimately explodes.

When Josh finally slides the door open and disappears into the room, Jake calls after him. “Don’t say I didn’t fucking warn you!” He slumps back into his chair and finishes his cigarette, his girlfriend slipping silently out onto the balcony and into his lap.

“So… I caught the tail end of that. Didn’t go well?” Her hands push a few fallen tendrils of hair behind his ear.

“He doesn’t even know her. What if she’s fucking crazy? If she finds out who he is and she bolts, or just wants him for his money? Either way, he gets his heart broken. He’s so fucking stubborn.” Jake drops his forehead to her shoulder.

“Yeah babe, it runs in your family.”

Where the fuck is he?

You’d waited as long as you could, twenty minutes before you’d left your room behind and made your way down to the front desk, rolling your suitcase behind you. Another seven before you’d made it there, the corridors long and the hotel itself massive, your steps slow lest he pass you on the way. Your mom and her friend are already checked out and waiting for you, chattering happily amongst themselves as your stomach turns and your eyes dart back and forth across the lobby. Looking for him.

He won’t even know I’m down here. Fuck!

Of course he didn’t. He’d thought you still had at least thirty minutes before you had to check out. He ran the fastest route to your room and knocked on your door, met by silence. He knocked again, until his knuckles turned red.

He’ll find me, he always finds me. He promised.

You feign normalcy and composure but you can’t stop your eyes from scanning the huge open space as you turn in your room key and allow the clerk to cut the resort bracelet from your wrist.

“You okay sweetie?” Your mom notices your anxiety, of course she does. You lie.

“Fine, Mom. Just not ready to leave, ya know?” Okay, not a complete lie. You’re not ready to leave him. You never even got his phone number, you can’t call him now and tell him to run, that you’ll make them wait. How are you going to reach out to him? Why didn’t you realize this sooner?

There was no way you could have known the morning would pan out this way.

You turn to inspect the lobby again, not sure what direction he’d even be coming from, if he were coming. From behind you, the telltale sound of a vehicle pulling up has your eyes misting over, vision gone blurry.

It happens so fast, you hardly have time to register that he really isn’t coming, your luggage loaded into the shuttle and a coordinator checking your names off a list before ushering you onto the bus. Before you dare to step foot inside it, you turn away from it completely, one last long scan of the expansive space.

He’s not there.

“Bye, Josh.”

Your whisper lands on no one’s ears but your own, your gaze lingering out the window once you find a seat. Just a few more minutes you wait, staring out, as other passengers board but when the shuttle pulls away, he still hasn’t appeared.

Josh rounds a corner and makes it to the front desk, unsure if you’d even be there, out of breath and on the verge of something drastic as his eyes sweep the area for you. There’s no one, no one that looks like they’re waiting, no one standing around idly next to their luggage. He has no idea what to do.

“Sir? Can I help you?” The clerk speaks up, only slightly alarmed by the panic-stricken man breathing heavily and very obviously searching for something.

“Maybe,” he presses himself into the counter, the intensity rolling off of him causes the clerk to take half a step back. “Is there a bus coming soon?”

Warily, the clerk types something into a computer nestled below Josh’s line of vision. “Not for a couple of hours, sir. The ten-thirty shuttle just left.”

“It’s only ten,” he pulls his phone out to verify, “oh three. When did it leave?”

“Yes sir, it was rescheduled to accommodate a change in flight time. It left about… oh, two or three minutes ago.”

Below the counter, Josh’s hand balls into a tight fist as he sucks his teeth and resists ruining this man’s morning by cursing in his face. He takes a grounding breath instead.

“I believe that someone got onto that bus that I really need to get in contact with, and I don’t have their number. Are you able to look that information up for me?” His words come out slowly, calculated, knowing that what he’s requesting is absurd.

“No sir, I can’t give out the personal information of our guests.”

No, of course not. He considers bribing this poor guy for just a moment before it occurs to him that the room was not even under your name, your contact information probably nonexistent in their system. He doesn’t even know your last name. You don’t even know his. He never even told you who he is.

“Right, yeah, I know. Um… right, thank you.” Think, think, think.

“Is it possible to call up a cab to the airport?” It’s a long shot, really long, assuming you’d be flying out of the nearest airport but having no clue what airline or when your flight is. The clerk nods his head and lifts a phone from its cradle, but another voice interrupts.

“That won’t be necessary, thank you though.”

Jake. He takes Josh by the shoulders and moves him away from the counter, opens his mouth to tell him to let it go, it’s for the best. Josh shrugs his hands off and puts distance between them.

“Don’t say anything. This is your fucking fault, I missed her by minutes Jake! I didn’t even get to say goodbye!” His twin is unapologetic in his stance, his face expressionless even as Josh’s voice cracks.

Dejected, Josh turns away, ignores his brother as he calls to him. There’s nothing else he wants to hear, nothing he can do. The only logical option being to stop into the first shop he passes, purchase two bottles of tequila and hole himself up in his room for the next three days. Three days to wallow in the complete and utter idiocy of missing you by three minutes, the moronic lack of foresight in not just exchanging numbers.

Three days and three long nights nearly blacked out to forget about the three it had taken him to fall for you.

Taglist:

@lightmylove-gvf @spicedandicedtea @weneedsomehealing123 @milkgemini @why-ami-on-here @gretavanbitches @twistedmelodies @wildflowerxx-x @dannythedog @blissfulbellss @averagemisfit03 @dharmasdivine @thetroublegetssoloud71 @lucimoo @toxbexannouncedx @dig0930 @maddie-van-fleet @friska101-cg @welllauragvf @gretasimp @objectsinspvce @writingcold @gretavangroupie @sweetybre @gretasgoose @gvfjess @josh-iamyour-mama

[abliafina-18782]

for the ship + kiss writing meme: 16 goldrose >:)

Goldrose and lazy kisses were a challenge bro😂

Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss:

Lazily

The first thing I hear is music. A tune that’s far too upbeat for my mood. 

I enter the dining room and that’s where I find you. You’re sitting at the end of the table, two bottles of beer in front of you, humming along to the music. You look happy, like you didn’t just make me frame an innocent woman. 

“Hello, Joe.” The amusement is audible in your voice. You hold up your beer at me as if in a toast, a smug smile on your face. “You know there’s nothing quite like a nice, cold, crisp lager after sex.”

I wouldn’t know, even if I had slept with Kate just now. You keep talking but your voice is like background noise to me, it doesn’t help that you let that god-awful preppy song play. I grab the vinyl record and toss it hard on the floor. It breaks in two pieces and it gives me no satisfaction because you’re still here, pestering me like an annoying mosquito I can’t swat away. 

You’re talking about how we’re going to have so much fun killing Lockwood. Sometimes I think you’ve made it your mission to suck the life out of me. I was already married to Mrs. Lovett, I don’t need to have Sweeney Todd hanging after me as well.

“Well go on then, drink up. God knows you’ve earned a beer, mate.” You say, motioning to the bottle. “Or perhaps Kate gave you enough of a treat.”

It wasn’t as much of a treat as it was a parting. I saw Kate tonight because she thought she needed me and I came to tell her that she doesn’t. What her father has done to her is awful, yes, but she needs to break out of his shadow alone. If she has me, I'll just be shouldering whatever responsibilities he had.

That, and the fact I can’t get you out of my head every time I kiss her. 

“She didn’t,” I say.

“Really?” You tilt your head to the side. “That was quite the kiss you two shared.”

Oh, it was, except I can’t keep lying to her anymore. I can’t kiss her and pretend that I'm not wishing it was you. You understand me, Rhys. I'm pulled to you like there's a magnetic force between us. You’re confident and sure of yourself no matter the resistance I put up. Would you resist me? If I finally came to you instead of you coming to me.

Perhaps it's the desire to finally swat away that mosquito that makes me get up from my chair.

You’re watching me, lips quirked in a slight smirk. I push back your chair, just wide enough for me to straddle your lap. Your eyes widen, an arm sneaking its way around my back, steadying us both. I take your beer and finish it in a long swig, tossing it somewhere on the floor along with the broken vinyl.

“I was going to finish that,” You chastitise.

“Shut up.”

I take your face in my hands, just like I did with Kate. Your skin is soft underneath my fingers and I let my thumb caress your cheek. It’s not the earth-shattering attraction they speak about in books, rather it’s a sense of everything sliding into place. I bring our lips together and it’s everything I wanted it to be.

You don’t even hesitate before you respond, moving your mouth against mine like they belonged together. Your arm tightens around my waist and your free hand grabs my thigh, holding me in place. It’s slow, you’re letting me explore on my own terms and I can’t think of anything more sensual. I tease your lips open and I can feel you smiling against my mouth. 

You’ve intrigued me ever since I came to London. The way you turned your life around and clawed your way to the top. I want that, Rhys.

I want a good man in a cruel world, I want you.

[silverskye13]

Been picking away slowly on some more Tanguish stuff [I've got 3 different little shorts slowly simmering on the back burner] and I.... Haven't finished one. But I did finish the intro to one. And I'm a bit proud of it. So I'll just toss that here in the hopes that someday in the distant future I'll finish it.

Anyway, Tanguish snip below:

Tanguish stood in Grian’s base, staring at a dusty bookshelf. He was not in the helsmet Grian’s home - the strange little staring creature unsettled him far too much to allow casual visits. No, this was Grian the hermit’s base, the one in Hermitcraft.

(It was a long story how he got here, and really, he shouldn’t be here. Tango had warned him when he’d gone to step through the reflection that things were weird. Empires and purple rifts and something about a goblin and something else about Grian the hermit. He stepped through anyway, because the best thieves are curious, and lacking a little in common sense.)

Curiosity and a general lack of common sense was what stood him by the bookshelf currently. Upon stepping out of a reflection to find himself standing in front of a massive purple gateway on the close end of fizzling out, with no other living creature in sight, Tanguish decided it was safe enough to explore. It wasn’t every day he got to see a darkening crack between worlds, or really Hermitcraft in general. How was he to know giant gateways into the unknown weren't normal here? He didn’t get to see the other hermits much, normally only at a distance, or through their insidious doubles. Picking around Grian’s base gave Tanguish the rare opportunity to see the company his own double did (or didn’t) keep. He thought he was learning a lot. Grian was messy, but he had an eye for shapes and color. He must have an elytra, or some other mode of flight, to live so high off the ground with no ladders or stairs. He had a flair for the dramatic, if the skulk-made resistance sign in his base was any indication. He also had a super computer with a mustache, whose only communication when Tanguish pressed the prompt button was to say, “Don’t belong here,” with increasingly capital letters. Tanguish didn’t know if that meant the computer didn’t belong here, or if Tanguish didn’t, but he wasn’t going to stick around and think it over. There were too many things in here to see, and unless the computer somehow came to life and moved its pipes and electronics off the wall to try and catch him, Tanguish felt safe ignoring its possible protests.

(Tanguish was in a curious mood today, not a cautious one. If he were cautious, he would have fled into the nearest reflection the moment he realized he was alone. The fact that the cautious option might also be the smartest option had crossed his mind, but he ignored this.)

Eventually, after much stumbling and waffling and the pocketing of many small objects, Tanguish stood in front of the bookshelf. There were many books he recognized. Some were familiar titles, with words slightly transposed from the hels versions. He thumbed through a few, less for the reading, and more for the rare possibility that a valuable item might be tucked inside some of the pages. That was until he found one small book that had fallen behind one of the front rows: simple and green, faded gold lettering written across the top, a stylized sword embossed in the center of the cover.

Paladin

Tanguish had heard the term paladin before. Tango had mentioned it before during their long talks about some weird board game, one of his inspirations for Decked Out. Tanguish picked up the little book and it fell open naturally to a page somewhere a third of the way through. His eyes glazed over the letters. Something something, have faith brothers and take up your sword, something something, fight against injustice in any black corner it dwells in. Tanguish wasn’t really that interested in the plain text itself. What interested him more was that many of the passages were underlined, and writing was scribbled in the margin. It was all in blue ink, in neat and tidy handwriting that, oddly enough, Tanguish felt was familiar. That didn’t make any sense, since Tanguish had never met or spoken with any hermit besides Tango, and Tango’s handwriting was a slanted scrawl caught halfway to cursive. It wasn’t this neatly spaced, square print that almost looked like it could come from a typewriter.

“This passage is a meditation on conviction,” the print said. "Conviction is not merely an opinion. It is rooted deeply in personal morality. To change one's convictions, or abandon them, is to change who one is."

Tanguish tilted his head to the side, as though he could roll the statement around in his head like a loose marble. He wasn't a big philosophy-and-morals guy. To contemplate those, one has to ask hard questions about themselves. Questions like: "Does stealing muffins from a small business owner every day make it difficult for them to stay in business?" or "If I rifle through a missing person's stuff, does that make me a creep?" Those are generally questions a thief shouldn't be asking themselves, and so deep inflection had never been one of Tanguish's strong suits. He had his moments of course. His recent conviction that his own happiness shouldn't come at the cost of Tango was one he was particularly proud of.

Tanguish flipped through the well worn pages of the little paladin book, eyeing the neat rows of script darning the margins of nearly every page. He shrugged, snapped the book closed, and tucked it into his shirt pocket.

He was saving this for later.

[fangirlies]

bestie, it is i, elliot`s anon! i`m still in my 1d mood SO silly lil thought for our art boy. imagine being in stupid arguement when xavi and his bestie\partner wants to smooth this stubborn pouting boy over and they turn on their inner performer: BABY YOU LIGHT UP MY WORLD LIKE NOBODY ELSE, THE WAY THAT YOU FLIP YOUR HAIR GETS ME OVERWHELMED~ and xavier can`t being in a bad mood anymore and he starts smiling uncontrolably his silly lil smile :] BTW how are you? how is your move going on?

answering the rest here. Sorry I’m anal about these things. also, not proofread.

The room was deafeningly quiet. An uncomfortable tension filled the air. You were in your pjs, resting on your boyfriend's bed, when he emerged from the steamy bathroom, holding a towel. Never do your arguments last more than ten minutes. It's a cycle of arguing, then falling silent for a few minutes until one of you cracks a joke, eventually forgetting the cause for your petty dispute. But this one was different. It's been an hour since one of you said anything. After taking a roast session too far with enid and ajax, Xavier grew irritated at your harmless jokes. You were irritated by his annoyance. You couldn't recall which joke pushed him over the brink. Up until the point when he stormed into his room after leaving the quad, you were simply having a little fun with your friends.

Xavier tossed his towel in his hamper before lying in bed, still without uttering a word. You broke the silence after what felt like an eternity but really was five minutes.

“When are you going to stop ignoring me?” You turned to face your childish boyfriend. His eyes stayed closed as he sighed softly.

“Earth to xavier, I’m talking to you.” Your fingers are now probing his cheek, attempting to elicit a grin from him. But you didn't manage to accomplish it. It was your time to sigh and pout now.

You must have truly offended him, you thought. A little lightbulb went out in your head as you searched for any solution to make him smile. You slung your leg across his torso and sat on his lap. His eyes suddenly widened in response to your movements. You proceeded to probe at his rose-colored cheeks while meeting his stare.

“Baby you light up my world like nobody else…” you whispered. Given his inability to resist, Xavier rolled his eyes. It was a running inside joke between you two. You'd break into song at the most inappropriate moments.

“The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed..” your hands sought for his moist hair, pushing it back.

“But when you smile at the ground it, it ain’t hard to tell..” Your index fingers pressed against the sides of his lips, pushing him to grin.

“You don’t know, oh-oh…” You placed an imaginary microphone up to him so he could continue the song, but when it didn't come, a pout formed on your face yet again. All hope was out the window. It never takes him this long to cave in.  Xavier rolled his eyes once more before wrapping his palm over your outstretched one.

“You don’t know you’re beautiful.” He spoke in a flat tone. His tough façade melted as he saw your expression brighten in front of him. Your beaming smile was impossible to ignore. Then when you gave him a tender, innocent kiss on the lips, you made it much more difficult for him to stay furious.

"I'm sorry for hurting your feelings, I forgot you were such a baby," you apologized, giggling.

That's it," Xavier murmured, turning you so that you were lying flat on the bed and that his tall figure was hovering over you.

“Wanna see something even funnier?” One of his hands trapped both of yours above your head.

"Please don't," was all you could say before he assaulted you with tickles. His huge hand made escaping his grasp nearly impossible. The awkward silence that previously existed was replaced by laughter and some pleading to cease the assault on your underarms. He would momentarily pause to nibble on any inch of exposed skin he could reach. This was Xavier Thorpe's revenge, yet a part of you would rather be pinned down, begging Xavier to let you breathe, than spend a night apart from your boyfriend.

[lillianawayne99]

CastAway Chapter 23

Pairing: Gojo, Itadori, Sukuna, Nanami X OC

Genre: Action Romance

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Teacher-Student relationship, canon with a twist, reverse harem, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, violence, major character death, smut chapters will have specific warnings

Synopsis: Calliope, a wolf in sheep's clothing, enrolls at Jujutsu Tech to protect herself from a world she's never seen before. In her efforts to stay alive, she finds relationships that could mend her soul or tear her apart.

Previous Chapter // CastAway // Masterlist

Gojo noticed the tense atmosphere when Yuuji and I got back. While Yuuji and I went to shower and change into more comfortable clothes, Nanami explained to him what happened before leaving. 

Once we finished and came down for dinner, Gojo tried to lighten the mood at first. Quickly realizing we weren’t having it, he gave up and focused on supporting and comforting us. Since I was handling it better, Gojo concentrated his efforts on Yuuji.

This wasn’t my first time killing someone, and technically the transfigured humans were already dead. It was never easy killing someone, but once you’d crossed the line, there’s no coming back. The first time was the hardest, Yuuji’s struggle accepting what he did reminded me of that. 

I didn’t feel guilty for ending the curse on those people. Instead, I was shaken by how mutilated their souls were. I knew Mahito’s Idle Transfiguration worked by manipulating the soul, but seeing the effects of it rattled me more than I’d expected. 

It took me hours to fall asleep, tossing and turning while Gojo and Yuuji quickly fell asleep in each other’s arms. When I finally succumbed to darkness, it didn’t last long. My body rested, but I recognized the feeling of being pulled into someone’s Domain.

Expecting it to be Sukuna checking on me and asking about what happened today, I was surprised to ‘wake’ to warm sunlight blocked by an umbrella. 

I was lying on a sun lounger in a long, layered kimono I didn't recognize with the smell of salt in the air. Sitting up, an endless expanse of calm, blue water stretched out as far as I could see. There were a few feet of sand in between the lounger and ocean. When I turned to the side, a man I didn’t recognize sat in a matching lounger beside me.

He wore traditional Buddhist robes from the Heian era, his hair was long and dark, and he had thin, dark colored eyes. With the way he sat, feet in the sand and leaning forward, it was clear he was expecting me.

“What is this place?” I broke the silence, diving straight into questioning him and his intentions.

“Does it matter?” He deflected calmly, tilting his head to the side as his eyes raked along my form.

“I think I deserve to know if I’m in someone’s Domain,” I responded while turning my body to face him, swinging my legs over the lounger to place my bare feet in the warm sand.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you.” His lips curled into a hint of a smirk.

“You’re avoiding the question.” I resisted the urge to snap at him, my eyes narrowing as I fought to keep my tone even.

“Is the location what you should be concerned with right now? Don’t you have more important questions? Such as who I am? Why you’re here? How long I’ve been watching you and why?” The man’s dark eyes narrowed slightly in amusement. Somehow, the mixture of his expression and posture reminded me of a confused dog.

I huffed quietly and shifted to look out at the ocean. The surface was unnaturally calm, gently lapping at the shore with no waves in sight. The sky was perfectly blue and clear with a light spattering of white clouds. Despite the calm, comforting atmosphere, there was an unmistakable heaviness in the air from cursed energy.

Was this an Innate Domain? Did this man trust me or his abilities enough to let me inside his mind? Or was this a Domain Expansion where he could attack me if I proved uncooperative? It was safer to assume the worst case scenario.

“Who are you?” I finally asked, turning back to see his lips curl into a cold smile.

“Who I am doesn’t matter,” He deflected my question once again.

What was the point of offering questions he considered more important if he wouldn’t answer them? Why did he admit to stalking me? Why did he bring me here if he wouldn’t talk to me? I had so many questions, and no indication he would answer them. Since I was stuck here until he released me, all I could do was keep trying or sit in awkward silence.

“Why am I here?” As the words left my lips, his smile turned warm and proud. I must have finally asked the right question.

“I have a proposal for you.” He shifted in his seat, leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs. 

“I’m not interested,” I immediately deflected. Did this man seriously think he could kidnap me, admit to stalking me, avoid my questions, and then ask me to help him? 

His smile turned calculating as his eyes narrowed. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or liked a challenge. Possibly a bit of both. 

“I think you’ll be very interested once you hear what I have to say,” He prodded.

With a soft grunt and another glance at the ocean, I decided to at least hear him out. “Get on with it then.”

“I want to bring Ryomen Sukuna back,” The man’s voice was perfectly calm, but his declaration sent a shiver down my spine.

What the fuck was he thinking? Bring Sukuna back? He’s already a few steps away from reincarnation, trapped inside Yuuji. Did he know or suspect I was capable of separating them? Was that why I was here? To be convinced to release Sukuna?

“Why?” I asked cautiously, but he shook his head and turned to gaze out at the ocean. “If you won’t explain, you may as well send me back because I won’t even consider helping you.”

Based on the way his gaze snapped back to me, his brows furrowed and lips pursed, I’d gotten his attention. 

“And I need your name. You know mine, don’t you? It’s only fair.” I pressed, using his frustration to figure out who he was.

“You may call me Getou,” He finally conceded, albeit begrudgingly. “As for my reasoning …”

His voice trailed off as he turned to stare at the endless expanse of ocean and blue sky. The way his expression softened slightly indicated this place meant something to him. There was pain and nostalgia in his eyes and set of his lips, but it was gone when he looked back at me.

“I want to rid the world of curses,” He stated calmly.

I bursted into laughter at the ridiculousness of what he’d said. Use a curse, the King of Curses, to rid the world of his own kind? Whatever drugs he’d taken, part of me wanted to try them to attempt to understand his reasoning. 

As I shook and held my sides, I didn’t notice him stand and approach me until he’d tightly grasped my face in his hand. Getou squeezed and roughly jerked my head up so I was looking at him, but the determination and anger in his eyes only made me laugh harder.

“Use … the King … of Curses … to get rid … of curses?” I choked out between laughs. “You’re crazy!” 

His gaze hardened and fingers tightened harshly before he let me go, shoving me slightly. The moment he had space, the back of his hand smacked against my cheek. The harsh slap knocked the humor out of me. 

I instinctively kicked sand at him and glared up into his eyes. Our expressions mirrored each others’. Brows furrowed, eyes narrowed, and lips taut. 

“What the fuck was that for?!” I snapped at him.

He simply glared down at me, a hint of regret in his eyes when he noticed the red mark on my cheek. With a quiet scoff, he sat back down. Placing his elbow on his thigh, Getou rested his chin in the palm of his hand and studied me.

Realizing he wouldn’t answer, I decided to try a different approach. “What’s my role in this?”

He perked up immediately, his expression lightening as he thought about his batshit crazy plan. “He listens to you, doesn’t he?”

Sukuna, listen to me? My confusion must have shown on my face with the way Getou sighed. Getting uncomfortable, I shifted to place my hands on the sun lounger and leaned back. I was finally getting answers, and yet this was going nowhere.

“He does what he wants,” I responded flatly.

“And he wants you,” Getou elaborated, barely.

“So?” I tilted my head slightly, hoping for more, but Getou stared at me while I contemplated his reasoning. “Do you really think the King of Curses would listen to me, for what? To get between my legs? To manipulate me into doing what he wants? What is it you think he wants with me?”

The way his expression began to soften meant I was on the right track, but not quite there. Getou shifted to rest his arms on his legs, leaning towards me, as he finally gave me a straight answer. “A queen.”

I froze at his admission. A queen? What would Sukuna need a queen for? He’s strong enough on his own. He’s a thousand year old curse. He may have been human before, and still enjoys carnal pleasures, but he hadn’t been in touch with his emotions since he became a curse, if he ever was. 

Did Getou think Sukuna’s former humanity meant he was capable of love? Or he wanted a partner in crime, someone to birth an heir, or both? I didn’t think he’d feel the need for either of those. Did curses get lonely or want to pass on their knowledge? Were they capable of that?

“Or a pawn,” Getou’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “But he wouldn’t listen to a pawn, would he?”

I stared at Getou while what he’d implied sank in. How much had he seen, heard? How long had he been watching? From what he’d said, it was safe to assume he’d been keeping an eye on Yuuji since he consumed Sukuna’s finger. He most likely adjusted his tactics to include me in his plans as well.

“Is that all you want from me? To convince Sukuna to join you?” With how forthcoming Getou had been recently, I’d hoped he would continue to answer my questions, but he only stared at me. “Why would I be interested in this?”

“You love him, don’t you?” Getou asked, curiosity and confidence in his gaze.

I stayed silent and stared him down. Once again, the question on my mind was how long had he been watching me. What had this man seen to make these assumptions about my relationship with Sukuna? 

“I’ll see you around, little mouse,” Getou dismissed me with a calculating smile, and I was finally released from his Domain to sleep in peace.

Next Chapter

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! © LillianaWayne - all rights reserved. Do not copy, modify, repost, or share on other platforms without my express, written permission.

[worldweaverofmediocrity]

Isekai Heroes: Chapter 12

what I wrote today for Isekai Heroes

“I do have self control.” Ainz said. “Though, I do hope that the Queen is more sensible than her husband. I would like to remove his Vassal Weapon.”

“Can’t do that.” Tanya said, snapping out of her daydream. “The Vassal Kick Vote needs to be unanimous or abstaining.”

Kazuma resisted the urge to faceplant and scream into his food. 

Ainz raised a finger. “Say Subaru, why do you put up with Aultcray?”

“Demiurge.” Subaru said.

Ainz lowered his finger.

Kazuma sank in his seat, slapping away Tanya’s posture fixing hand.

“Anyways, while we were separated, Being X temporarily gave me a book on this world’s legends.” Tanya said. “Specifically about four Guardian Beasts who are regrown/respawned everytime the Waves happen. What these Beasts do is kill roughly 2 thirds of the World’s population to form a barrier that will stop the waves entirely. The first one is called the Spirit Tortoise and if anyone encounters a turtle-shelled monster, that isn’t a turtle type, then that means it has awakened.”

The nobles fortunate enough to overhear the Heroes table blinked in shock. Kazuma sank until only his eyes were above the table. Ainz had retrieved a notebook and writing tools to transcribe Tanya’s thoughts. Genesis gave baby doll eyes towards Kazuma’s portion and Subaru was rubbing the back of her head.

“Of course, these Spirit Tortoise Familiars are deadly and thus require fighters of level 50 to adequately fend off. That is for the Weakest Bat-Type Familiars, this weakness is compensated by the fact that the Bat-types can shoot an eye-laser that implants a Familiar Egg into you.” Tanya said, projecting her voice. “If the eggs do not hatch within a few days, then you get turned into one of the stronger variants, an Amalgam Parasite Type Familiar.”

Even King Aultcray was frowning at the news. “This is a Victory Party, please do not bring down the mood with such dire news. I expected that from the Wa-Sword  or Shield Heroes. Not you, Lady Tanya.”

Tanya bent her head. “As you wish.”

“At least she got the important identification and danger out before getting censored.” Her fellow veterans thought.

“Damn Loli privilege.” Kazuma hid his glare by looking at the table. “If any of us tried that, we would be tossed into a completely unnecessary duel to defend the King’s honor. Or some bullshit like that.”

Genesis trilled as a Waiter deposited more food for the table.