#I’m still on a challenging meal plan now is not the time to hear about your low carb diet

[megandzane]

My mom really woke up and thought it was a good idea to make comments about my body

[sweetbutpsychobutsweet]

The Voice of Hunger

Chapter 7

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: You and the company need to make a quick departure from Rivendell, and the journey seems much more challenging now that you have begun your survival fast. How long can you keep your plan a secret, and how long can you keep yourself from strangling Thorin in your hangry state?

Warnings: hangry!reader, no use of y/n, implied eating disorder, mentions of smut, mentions of starvation, fainting, panic attack

author's note: I hope you are all ready to experience a tale as old as time: a hangry woman trying to restrain herself from committing murder😂

Word count: 1598

“Be on your guard,” Thorin calls out from farther ahead on the rocky trail, “we’re about to step over the edge of the wild. Balin, you know these paths, lead on.”

You keep your eyes glued to the ground beneath your feet, with one hand braced against the cliffside to help maintain your balance. Of all the places for the dizziness of hunger to kick in, why did it have to be here? 

The paths are narrow and treacherous. One misstep could easily send you toppling over the edge to meet the jagged rocks far below.

True to your word, you haven’t had a bite to eat since dinner. With the sun rising overhead you wouldn’t think it was that long ago. Except that being on the road for so long already meant rationed portions between you and the rest of the company. All of you had been deprived of a decent meal for quite some time now. And your anxiety over the orc pack on your tail and your fast-approaching cycle seemed to take even more out of you. 

Your entire body felt too heavy to carry. Your feet drag against the rock beneath you as you fight against the fatigue and dizziness slowly consuming you. 

“Master Baggins,” Thorin calls to the hobbit who keeps stopping to look back toward Rivendell. No doubt feeling conflicted over having to continue on without Gandalf for now. 

“I suggest you keep up,” he warns the hobbit. Both you and Bilbo know Thorin would leave him behind in a heartbeat, so he scampers off after the others. 

You hurry to pick up your pace, not wanting to fall too far behind the group. In your haste, you fail to notice the loose rock directly beneath your feet until it slips out from under you, sending you tumbling forward. 

A strong hand grabs you by the arm to catch you before you can fall onto your face. You catch yourself on the cliffside again with your free hand and look up to see a very concerned Thorin studying your face. 

“Careful, lass,” he says, his hand still on your arm holding you upright. 

You try to laugh it off weakly but he doesn’t find the humor in it.

“Are you alright?” he asks, taking a step back to look you over from head to toe. 

“You’ve been acting very strange ever since we left Rivendell.”

You should have known Thorin would notice something was off with you. Of course, he would. Even after all of the time the two of you spent apart, he still probably knows you better than anyone else in all of Middle Earth. The thought should comfort you but it doesn’t. Instead, it brings back a feeling all too familiar to you whenever you’re in his presence: anger. 

“I’m fine,” you snap and yank your arm out of his grip and brush past him to continue up the trail after the others. 

He doesn’t say anything in response to your sudden outburst but you can hear the heavy thud of his boots following behind you. 

How dare he act all concerned about you. And how dare you let yourself get that close to him in Rivendell. Honestly, what were you thinking? He abandoned you all those years ago, and ever since you stepped foot out of the shire he has done nothing but question you and your right to be there. And how do you respond? You let him finger you in the pool!

You try to suppress a growl of frustration, but instead, it travels down into your stomach to let out a roar of hunger. 

“Are you hungry?” Thorin asks from behind you, clearly trying to suppress a chuckle. 

“No!” you snap, throwing a glare back at him from over your shoulder. 

“You’re certainly acting like you are,” he mutters under his breath. 

You freeze in your tracks, curling your hands into fists at your side. 

Don’t do it you hear the voice of reason in your head beg, don’t pick a fight with him right now. But unfortunately for both of you, the voice of hunger seems to be the one in control right now. 

“Is there something you’d like to say to me?” you snap, pivoting on your heel to stomp towards him. 

His eyes widen in surprise as you bring yourself nearly face to face with him, tipping your head back to look him right in the eyes. 

“Do you think, you get to act all concerned about me now? Like I’m supposed to believe I can trust you with my well being after everything you’ve done?” 

He opens his mouth but doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“What? Do you think you’re obligated to care about me now because of what happened in that pool? Well, let me assure you that what happened between us was a one-time thing! It meant nothing! So if you think-”

“I think you’re cranky and need to eat something before you rip us all to pieces,” Thorin replies so calmly it only pisses you off further.

“Well I think you’re a pain in my ass!” you growl and stomp away from him again. 

Thorin lets you go without a fight, and you could swear you hear him chuckling softly from behind you. 

After a while, the high rocky terrain gives way to grassy fields. At first, the even pathway seemed like a welcome change, but the afternoon sun now hangs high overhead, beating down on your company hot and sweltering. 

Before your abrupt departure from Rivendell, you had the opportunity to change into more travel-worthy garments. You swapped your slippers for thick riding boots, and your flowy gown for trousers, a tunic, and a loosely laced corset. You had clasped a fur cloak over your shoulders to keep out the evening chill. It had long ago been discarded and shoved into your pack.

Despite the layers and layers of fur your kin wore, it seemed that you were the only one affected by the heat. They carried on unbothered, while you roasted away beneath your remaining layers. You tugged at the edges of your clothing, trying to air out the layer of sweat coating your skin. 

While the others laugh and chat amongst themselves without a care, you pull up the rear a sweaty, cranky mess. Thorin must have warned the others to give you a wide berth because they leave you to suffer in peace. Knowing better than to try and pull you into mindless conversation in your current state. Kili and Fili take turns wordlessly passing you the water flask every so often. You’re too tired to refuse their help.

After several hours pass in the hot sun you decide you can’t take it anymore. You groan in discomfort and reach for the laces of your corset. You tug and pull until the offending fabric is loose enough to be blissfully removed from your chest. You shove the corset into your pack and tug at the fabric plastered to your sweaty skin, letting it air out in the nonexistant breeze.

Almost as if he could sense you were removing clothing, Thorin looks over his shoulder at you. He raises an eyebrow in alarm and opens his mouth to comment. But you beat him to the punch, shooting him a look that dares him to try to start something with you right now. He closes his mouth and looks back at the path ahead, but not before stealing a quick glance at the curves of your upper body, now exposed from the way the sweaty fabric clings to your form. 

Fili hands you the water flask again and you silently take it with a long gulp. 

This is better, you tell yourself. Your stomach has stopped growling and you’ve convinced yourself that the dizziness and slight shake in your hands is a side effect of the heat, not your survival fast. The sun will go down soon and everything will cool off. You’ll be able to rest and gather your strength for the next day, and the next, and the next, and the next…

You try to find your inner strength by thinking of your home. Erebor. Those vast halls you grew up in. 

Halls now housing Smaug. The fire-breathing dragon that will most likely still need to be killed when you arrive. That is, if the orcs don’t get to your group first. 

Suddenly these approaching enemies and your all important quest all press down on you at once. Your breathing becomes more rapid, as your chest heaves, heart pounding. 

Why is it so hot?

Maybe if you take your tunic off as well you’ll feel better. You start to reach for the edge of the fabric but your fingers suddenly feel too heavy. Everything starts to become fuzzy, moving as if in slow motion as the world starts to spin around you. 

You think you hear someone call out your name, but you can’t tell. Your mind refuses to focus on anything else but the heavy weight pressing down on you.

Your legs finally give out and you collapse, the darkness closing in around you as a strong pair of arms catch you and gently lower you down. 

A frantic chorus of voices are calling your name but they all seem so far away and you can’t find the strength to care as you give up the last of your strength to surrender to the heavy darkness, drifting off into unconsciousness with the scent of smoke and iron heavy in your lungs.

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@mrsdurin @thetaekwondofeline

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Melancholia [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Right (@optimistic-nihilist) Center (@vivienvalentino) sent to me via my love (@sadgirlzluvdilfs) Right (@citronplume)

Prompt: Characters both duck for cover under the same tiny storefront when it starts pouring, aka, how the reader met Aaron. Also, the reader is feeling down due to the seasonal changes, and Aaron is there to give her some love and support. 

Category: Hurt/comfort/fluff

Word Count: 6.7K 

Content Warnings: Mentions of mental health (depression and seasonal depression), mention of eating (reader has missed some meals), light drinking, minor language 

A/N: This is another one-shot inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins Meet Cute Writing Challenge and this one is actually a meet-cute! The reader is also a non-BAU member. I’ve been having the seasonal sads, so this is sort of based on my feelings a bit. Given that World Mental Health Day was earlier this week I just want to say that you matter! You are loved, and I am so happy you are here. There is not shame in getting help or just talking to someone. I’m very grateful for my friends on here and my messages are always open. If you liked this story, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you have a great rest of your week - Levi. 

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

_y/f/b_ = your favorite book 

_y/e/c_ = your eye color 

_l/n_ = your last name

_y/b/f_ = your best friend 

_y/b/f’s/n_ = your best friends name 

_y/f/a_ = your favorite artist 

_y/c/f_ = your comfort food. 

y/n checked the weather diligently every morning before she got ready for the day. As someone who had a penchant for keeping up with her favorite aesthetic look, knowing what the weather was going to be for the day was a must. y/n had not planned for a total and utter flood to come down from a sky that was promised to be ‘clear and sunny’ all day. It had started out as just a few drops, but soon it was an unrelenting pelting of water on the pavement. The street offered little cover, and y/n moved more quickly down the road looking for any relief. Finally, she saw it in the small awning of a local bookstore she liked. There was just one small issue, there was already someone standing under the protected space. ‘What the hell,’ y/n thought. She would rather be uncomfortably close to a stranger than continue to get soaked through. At this point the outfit she had picked for the day was a bust anyway, so why not lose a little dignity while she was at it. Thankfully the tall man saw her coming and moved as far to the side as the space allowed. Even with this being the case when y/n slipped under the awning the two of them were standing with their shoulders essentially pressed together.

They avoided looking at each other for a moment due to the awkwardness of their close quarters. However, the feeling passed and the man said in a low tenor voice, “This is some storm we’re having here.” At hearing the man’s smooth, even voice, y/n turned her head his way and actually looked him over for the first time. He was tall, as she had seen before, but now that she was next to him, his height was more noticeable. He was more prepared for the weather than y/n had been, but he was still pretty soggy with his shot hair sticking to his forehead slightly. The man was also fit. y/n could tell from the way his nice clothes sat on his body. The stranger might have been wet, but he was also warm. Standing this close to him, y/n could feel the warmth coming off of him in waves. For a moment _y/n_ wondered if the man was sick, but he didn’t look pale or flushed; he looked perfectly fine as a matter of fact. More than just fine. y/n internally berated herself for thinking that a total stranger was attractive, but she couldn’t help herself. It took y/n a second to realize that she hadn’t yet responded to the man’s comment about the storm and quickly said, “Oh yeah. This is like Biblical or something. Do you think we should start building an arc?” y/n meant to make a joke, and she cringed at her own choice of words even as they came out of her mouth. Thankfully the man made what sounded like a small chuckle or laugh, though in all honestly, it might have just been him letting out a breath. Either way y/n didn’t want to think about it too hard out of embarrassment. 

Hotch watched the young woman move down the soaked sidewalks, her eyes looking for a place to land that wouldn’t mean a bucket of water being poured repeatedly on one's head over and over again like being in the open was. There really only was one place for her to go, and that was next to him under the awning of the bookstore he had hoped to stop in on before heading to Morgan’s. The team was celebrating Emily’s birthday, and even though he had a gift and card for Prentiss, both of which he hoped weren’t ruined by the rain, he had wanted to get her something extra. Prentiss had been going through a lot the last couple of months and he wanted to support her in the little ways he could. The book he had wanted to buy was taunting him from the illuminated window. It was Zadie Smith’s new novel, The Fraud. He had also been hoping to get Jack a new book to read to him at bedtime as well. As much as Aaron liked The Little Prince and the few other stories he often read to Jack before bed, he had to admit that he was slightly sick of them. However, the bookstore had been closed, ‘Due to a family emergency’ the sign on the front door had read.

At that point, the skies had opened and he found refuge under the small awning. Now the woman was near to him, and in another second she was next to him, pressed close due to the limited space offered by the covering. Hotch moved infinitesimally to the left to give them both a bit of breathing room. There was a slight awkwardness to the closeness of their bodies, and Hotch took that moment to look the woman over. She was younger than him, he assumed, and not dressed for the weather. Neither was he really, but at least he had a jacket. The woman must have been freezing, as she looked soaked to the bone and her bare shoulders kept catching water droplets from the leaky awning. For a moment Hotch had the idea of taking off his jacket and giving it to the woman. And then he had the more outrageous thought that if they stood face to face, there would be more space for them to be dry. Aaron quickly swiped the thoughts out of his brain. Internally Aaron thought, ‘God get a grip Hotchner. You sound like someone from a dime store romance novel.’ 

Aaron resisted the urge to sigh at his life at the moment. He was attempting, keyword attempting, to put himself out there more. It had been a few months since Hailey had left him, and he had tried his best to process the loss of his best friend and wife. They were still amicable, and hearing it from her side of things helped Aaron make sense of her choice -- even if it still hurt him. Rossi had been supportive of Aaron trying it out with a few women just to see. None of his attempts so far had been very successful. He was on a few apps and when he matched with people he tended to panic. The idea of having to open up to essentially total strangers never sat right with him. What would he say? “Hey I work for the FBI and I can tell when you’re lying, and I work 70+ hours a week, and I’ll be gone a good deal of the time, and I have more classified secrets than you can guess?”

It all felt a bit overwhelming to him. Not only was it overwhelming, but it was demeaning also. Trying to figure out if he liked a woman based on a few photos and a blurb about their life and experiences just didn’t sit right with him. For a moment he let his mind wander. He wished he could just meet someone naturally, but he knew such occurrences were rare in life, particularly for someone his age. Finally, he pulled himself together and bridged the gap between the woman and him to end the silence lingering between them by saying something about the rain. The woman looked up and over him before responding with a joke. He nearly laughed before responding, “I don’t think we have the time or materials. We might be fated to drown.” His reply caused the woman to laugh, and it was a soft sweet sound, like ice being poured into a crystal glass. The sound was quickly muffled by the rain and the sound of an approaching car. The sidewalk with the awning was very near the street and as the car passed it sloshed a large dirty wave up and around the woman’s legs. The woman said, “Eww” as the extra wetness moved over her body. She stepped back a bit as another car came quickly down the street. Aaron, rather protectively, moved his body in front of the woman taking the splash of water himself. 

y/n didn’t expect the man to move in front of her and as he positioned his body to get wet instead of her, she raised an arm, ever so briefly touching his back. She was going to say, “You don’t have to do that,” but he had already gotten wet and the car was far down the street before she had the thought. The man turned to face her, and they were so close to each other, just an inch or so apart that she could feel his warm breath on her face. Looking up at the handsome man caused her brain to stutter for a moment, and she didn’t even realize that her pupils were beginning to dilate, and there was a small blush blossoming over her face. However, the man did. When y/n had composed herself, she finally said, “Thank you for doing that. You didn’t have to.” The man gave her a small smile and replied, “It’s my pleasure.” He seemed like he was going to say more, but the ping of his phone made him stop. He pulled his iPhone from the pocket of his shirt and seemed to nod at the screen. The man put the phone back where it had come from and then returned his attention to y/n. He asked, “How far are you going in this storm? I’m assuming you’re not planning on standing here forever?” There was a sort of mirth in his expression that made y/n momentarily be warmed from the inside. Being this close to a stranger would normally make y/n uncomfortable, but there was something about this man that was inherently non-threatening. She answered his question honestly saying, “I actually really need to get a move on. I was trying to make it to the subway station on 19th Street. It’s only three blocks down from here.” The man nodded undid one of the inner zippers of his jacket and pulled out a folded copy of the days New York Times. y/n could see a fancy car pull up near them and stall. For one fleeting moment, she had a bad feeling about this man and a waiting car, but it was only a moment as he extended the paper toward her and said, “Sorry it’s not much. Maybe you could hold it over your head while you walk? I have to run myself, but have a good rest of your day.” And with that, the man turned around and walked into the rain. His shoulders were hunched as the water hit him once more, and he half-jogged to the Corvette on the street. She could just barely hear the start of a conversation as the stranger closed the door of the car. Now that she had just a slight cover, y/n placed the paper over her head and moved back onto the wet sidewalk as well. She gave the car one final wave as she ran down the road. 

Rossi pulled up and watched as Aaron stood very close to a woman under an awning taking a beating from the rain. He didn’t have a good chance to see exactly what the woman looked like, but he could tell that she was invested in whatever Aaron was saying to her. Rossi sighed softly. He knew that Hotch often beat himself up about meeting new people. He was also still beating himself up about Hailey. Rossi wished that his friend could see that people, women, were actually interested in him. That they wouldn’t pick apart his every flaw or see the guilt that he felt. Not that the woman Aaron was talking to was ‘the one,’ just that people would care about him if he allowed it to happen. If he was vulnerable. Aaron moved toward the car and opened the door, leaning down to sit in the passenger seat. Rossi turned to Hotch and teasingly said, “Having a nice conversation over there?”  Aaron scoffed and said, “It was fine.” Aaron could hear the deeper jesting tone in Rossi’s words, and he was reminded of how many times Dave had been his hype man like he was in his teens going on his first real date. Aaron didn’t mind it as long as he wasn’t being patronized. For now, it was just a reminder of his own personal failings. Hotch didn’t notice, but as he had gotten into the car, there was a tinge of color on his cheeks; Rossi did. 

y/n never expected to see the good-looking man from the rainstorm again, but as fortune would have it, she did. y/n was out at the park taking a stroll and doing some reading a few weeks later. The weather was much improved and the crisp air was perfect to spend a few hours outside exploring her new surroundings. She’d just moved into the neighborhood a few months ago, and due to her busy work-life balance, she hadn’t really gotten to know the area yet. A coworker had recommended Theodore Rosevelt Island Park as a nice place to spend the afternoon and had promised that it wasn’t super busy or loud. The coworker had been right. The park was beautiful. The sprawling trails offered a variety of scenery. y/n had picked a simple hilly paved trail to just enjoy the weather and the crisp smell of fall. After around an hour of walking, she settled down on the grass and started reading _y/f/b_.  After another hour, y/n felt her eyes growing heavy with sleep, and she sat up to get ready to leave. As she shifted to her feet, a glint of sunlight from the ground caught her attention. She stood and moved three yards over to where she had seen the light coming from. The source was a lost phone whose back-facing camera had caught the light at just the right angle to be seen by y/n.

She picked up the lost item and clicked on the home button. The screen blinked alive. The phone only had ten percent battery left and she wondered if it had been laying out for long or if it being in the sun had drained its power banks. There were five missed calls, three from the same number and two from two separate numbers. y/n assumed that the owner of the phone had gone to separate people in the park and asked to use their phone to call the lost one to see if anyone would pick up. y/n checked and the sound was off, so even that strategy wouldn’t have worked anyway unless someone had found the phone. Otherwise, no one would have heard it go off. As y/n walked back to her spot, trying to think about how to get the lost item back to its owner. While she looking at the little boy who was on the phone’s home screen, it vibrated in her hand with a number with no name attached to it. y/n swiped the answer button and said, “Hello?” There was a small silence on the other side of the line as if whoever had been calling was surprised someone had picked up. Finally, the person, a man, said, “Hey. I lost my phone about a half hour ago and, well you found it. Could I come to you and get it?” The man on the other end sounded slightly breathless. His voice sounded oddly familiar. y/n was sure she had heard it before somewhere but couldn’t place it. y/n responded to the man’s question saying, “I’m on the Drivesdale scenic loop. There’s that big oak tree if you know it. I’m under that tree.” The man replied, “I do know it. I can be there in about ten minutes if you can wait?” y/n nodded and said, “Of course. I’ll be here.”  There was an odd silence before _y/n_ heard a muttered reply on the other end of the line before the phone call ended. 

y/n knew the man the second he rounded the corner in the bend in the path. It was the guy from the day that it was raining buckets. He was far less soggy now, and he was wearing a black t-shirt and back jogging shorts that highlighted his distinct calf muscles. His shirt also emphasized his forearms which seemed strong. y/n wished she could think about other things other than the physical attributes of the man quickly jogging toward her, except that was all she had to go off of. That and the fact that he knew someone who owned a fancy sports car. y/n stood as the man drew near. 

Aaron was highly annoyed at himself for losing his phone. How he hadn’t noticed its weight missing from his pocket baffled him. He wasn’t sure how far he had moved since the phone made its mysterious disappearance. Today was a long run day for him, and he had moved around twelve miles according to his Apple watch. He briefly, sarcastically, thanked god that it wasn’t his work phone that had gone missing. But that would never happen. His FBI-issued phone stayed in a zipped pocket on the inside of his shirt and it stayed on all the time. Aaron had asked a few people if she could use their phones to see if someone had picked up the lost item, and he was close to despair and thinking he would have to go back home and try the ‘find my iPhone app. A wave of relief washed over Aaron as someone picked up for his last attempt at finding the phone while not having to leave the park. He listened to the location of the person who had it and confirmed that he would be right over. He ended the call and thanked the kind elderly woman who had let him use her phone. Hotch set out on a brisk jog, not wanting the woman holding his phone to wait longer than needed. 

Hotch had found himself worn out over the last few cases. Not that they were the worst cases he had ever seen, but the continued horrors and depravity he saw on a weekly basis were wearing on his morale. He was also tired. He’d done his normal pre-workout routine, but the energy drink and warm-up didn’t seem to have its normal effects. Hotch blamed both of these emotional blightes for his losing his phone and his not noticing. As he rounded the corner toward the big oak tree, there were very few people around and he saw the woman he was sure he had talked to a few moments before. As he got closer to the woman, it took him a moment to realize that he had seen her before. As he scanned through his memories of the past weeks, he clocked her as the person he had been stranded with under the bookstore awning. She looked lovely and calm as she was clearly scanning the area for him. Hotch had thought she looked good the day he had first met her, with her bright _y/e/c_ eyes standing out on her slightly flushed face. But now that she was dry and more relaxed, Hotch could appreciate her in a more natural environment. Aaron took a sharp breath in as he remembered how close they had been standing next to each other, he looked down at her as the cars passed by, splashing his legs and soaking his socks further. There was also that brief moment as her hand had touched his upper back. Aaron cleared his throat and moved those thoughts somewhere deeper in his mind. Somewhere fantasy could take root if he wasn’t careful. Hotch put on a small smile as he stopped in front of the woman. She was holding out his phone for him, and he reached out for it. After the cool metal was in his left hand, he extended his right hand and said, “Thank you so much for finding this. It’s a pleasure seeing you again. I see you survived the rain.” There was a beat of silence, and then he added, “I’m Aaron, Hotchner by the way.” 

y/n smiled up at Aaron and took his hand in hers. He gave it a firm yet steady shake and she said, “I’m y/n, _l/n_. What a surprise to see you again. How have you been?” y/n wasn’t sure why she asked the last questions, but it felt natural. She was also distracted by his scent. He was sweaty, but there was a sort of brine to the scent. Like when one stood next to the seashore at twilight. When Aaron responded, she smiled and said, “I’m glad you’re doing well. I’ve gotta head out, but it was nice to see you again, Aaron. I hope you have a good rest of your weekend.” _y/n_ didn’t particularly have to go anywhere, but she had a sinking feeling that if she stayed around the figure that was Aaron Hotchner, she might say something silly or stupid, and for some reason, she didn’t want to seem like that to him. As she had the first time they met, she gave a small wave and moved down the path. Again, she thought this was the last time that she would see him. 

They were destined to meet again three weeks later at the local bar in the neighborhood. Seated at a small table,  y/n shared her new life updates with _y/b/f_ who was visiting for the weekend. y/n had just covered the rainstorm incident and she said, “And then on top of that I saw him again later in the month. Let me tell you, if I thought he was handsome in the rain, you should have seen him in his workout clothes!” y/n was speaking openly and candidly given that her inhibitions were down because she had already had three drinks. Her friend who had a similar buzz said, “Okay, wait y/n. I’m going to need you to describe this guy in lots of detail. You always have a way with words, and I need the skinny. He sounds like a dreamboat.” y/n flushed further, above the color of the alcohol that had tinged her cheeks. y/n looked at _y/b/f_, and they had an expectant look on their face. y/n couldn't help but giggle before saying, “Well he’s tall, and he has dark hair. It’s cut short and neat from what I can tell, though both times I’ve seen him it’s been a bit disheveled. He’s fit. I mean, I saw him working out, and the first time I saw him his clothes were pretty much hugging his body. And man what a body he has.

Apart from his name, and his looks, I don’t have that much more to go off of. When I found his phone there was a picture of a little boy on his lock screen. For all I know he might be married or in a serious relationship. That doesn’t mean that I don’t find him attractive, but I’d never do something with a man who was committed.” If y/n was being honest with herself, she’d probably never do anything with the man ever? What could she possibly say if she even saw him again? The world was small, but not that small. y/n had relegated him to a small dreamlike crush to think back on every now and then. y/n took another sip of her cocktail to try and hide her blush from her friend. The door to the small bar opened and her friend, who was facing the door, looked at the large group that was entering the establishment. The final person to enter the bar caught y/n’s friend's eye, and they said, “I think your man just came in here.” y/n incredulously said, “Oh please, _y/b/f_, don’t tease me like that. It’s bad enough that I haven’t dated anyone seriously in years.” _y/b/f_ sobered slightly and said, “No y/n, I’m being serious. The last guy that just came in kind of matches the description you just gave.” 

y/n rolled her eyes but looked behind her anyway and low and behold, it was Aaron who had walked through the door. He was with a group of six people, and he was congenially chatting with an older man and a very pretty brunette-haired woman. y/n hadn’t yet seen the man so at ease, but it looked good on him. It fit. The intense blush on y/n’s face told her best friend that she had pointed out the correct figure and they said, “Damn, He is hot. He must live in the neighborhood or something if you keep running into him unplanned like this.” y/n nodded along in agreement, and _y/b/f_ continued, “You should give him your number or buy him a drink or something while he’s here. Who knows when the next time is that you’ll see him?” At the suggestion, y/n shook her head in embarrassment and said, “I don’t know _y/b/f’s/n_. What if he’s not interested?” _y/b/f_ sighed and placed a hand on y/n’s shoulder saying, “Oh come on y/n. Nothing gambled, nothing gained, and all that. After all, what’s the worst that can happen? He says no, or that he’s married and then you run into him at the supermarket and it’s awkward and you move past each other in the cheese aisle? Would you just give it a chance?”

y/n thought about the cost-benefit of actually making a move on Aaron and found that, as her friend had said, the cost side of the equation was pretty low. After a long silence filled by the ambient hum of the noise inside the bar, y/n said, “Okay, fine. But I’m going to wait for him to have a drink first and make sure he’s not overly attached to anyone in his party, and that will give me time to sober up a bit. I might be taking a risk on my behalf, but I’m sure as hell not doing it drunk.” y/n moved to the bar and got herself and her friend some water. While she was waiting, the pretty brunette and the older man whom Aaron had been speaking to when the group had walked in moved next to her at the bar. As y/n overheard the woman saying, “I don’t know Rossi. He looks sad to me sometimes. Like when he thinks no one is looking? I’m kind of worried for him.” The older man, Rossi, nodded and said, “I see it too. But you see it, and I see it, but Hotch? I don’t know, and I don’t think he would really appreciate us cornering him in his office and asking him about his mental health, do you?” The woman laughed and said, “That’s a big fat no from me. But you know how he gets. I’d just like to see him happy.” As the woman finished the statement, y/n got her water and gave the two she had been eavesdropping on a small smile before heading back to her own table. 

About a half hour later y/n felt more in control of her faculties. Aaron had had two drinks and y/n subtly watched him. He didn’t seem to flirting or attached to any of the women or men he was with; he also wasn’t wearing a ring which was a good start. y/n moved to the bathroom to make sure she looked alright before she made her move. y/n reapplied some mascara and lipstick, but she knew she was just stalling at this point. She took a deep breath and whispered, “You can do this,” as she walked out of the ladies' room. Fortunately from y/n, Aaron was at the bar getting a drink for himself, Morgan, and JJ. y/n idled up to him and said, “Hey Aaron, fancy seeing you here. Can I get you a drink?” Hotch turned and looked down at y/n. He was a bit tipsy given that he had two drinks in a pretty fast period. Hotch looked over the woman who kept appearing in his life and said, “Hey again y/n. We can’t seem to escape each other.” He looked over her face and saw the tells of attraction. He took a steadying breath as he realized that he was also attracted to y/n. He cleared his throat before saying “And you can buy me a drink if you like.” y/n beamed. She had fully expected him to say no, and she asked, “What’ll it be?” Hotch thought for a moment and said, “Margarita on the rocks please.” When the bartender came over y/n ordered two margaritas on the rocks. y/n Aaron chatted while they waited for the drinks and at the of the night, in a moment of inebriation and a bit of teasing from Morgan, Aaron had given his number to y/n. 

In a small moment of vulnerability for both of them, they had started texting on and off. Then they had had their first date and it had gone well. Then they had a second, and a third, and Aaron realized that y/n was steady, calm, and kind. She wasn’t bothered by his extended absences, or him having to change their plans often because of a case. y/n had slowly started meeting the important people in his life. It had been Morgan first. That happened kind of by accident. Then there was Rossi and Em, and Jack of course. By all means their relationship should be growing, and they would have their rocky moments, but happiness and care should be blooming, but for y/n it simply wasn’t. A sadness was tugging at her soul like a millstone. 

She was lying in bed; she had been all day. It was 11:00 a.m. The day outside looked pretty as the leaves fell and soft light came through the window. She had barely had the will to open the blinds. She had been crying a few minutes earlier but had managed to stop the flow of tears eventually. All y/n had wanted to do over the past few days was sleep. Sleep and cry. She had managed to keep up her hygiene a bit because she had to look and dress professionally for work, but if that wasn’t the case, she knew she wouldn’t have done any of her normal care routines. Her hair was on its last legs with dry shampoo, and she could feel it getting greasy and gross on the pillow. A sound at the door caught y/n’s attention. ‘Aaron,’ she thought. She had forgotten that he was coming over today. She tried to find the will to get up, but she was embarrassed about her current state both mentally and physically. She turned her back to her bedroom door and sniffled. Maybe if she didn’t answer he would leave? There was a second of silence and then there was a ping of her phone. y/n was sure that it was Aaron asking if she was okay. Then after that, there was a call and she could hear Aaron’s voice from outside saying, “y/n are you in there? Are you okay?” There was worry in Aaron’s voice and she cringed because it was so silly to be sad right now. She thought it was too early in their relationship for him to see her so sad. 

Aaron stood outside y/n’s door. There was a small panic rising in him. He had texted and called with no response from y/n. There was an eerie quiet outside her door. Normally at this time, she’d have her vinyl playing _y/f/a_ and making some coffee or reading. Hotch could picture it and it made him feel warm for a moment. But he didn’t feel that warmth now. He sensed that something was wrong, and he called out saying, “y/n if you’re in there I’m coming in, okay.” Aaron punched in y/n’s seven-digit code, and the door clicked open. There was no one in the kitchen or living area and the lights were off. He checked the bathroom and it was also empty. Aaron called for y/n saying, “y/n are you here?” More softly he said, “God, please be here.” Hotch moved to the bedroom door and gave a hesitant knock saying her name again. There was a soft sound from inside and, fearing the worst, he opened the door. When his eyes fell on y/n's form under a bundle of sheets and blankets, he let out a momentary sigh of relief.

He stepped into the semi-dark room and approached the bed saying gently, “y/n, are you alright?” y/n was facing away from him and said, “I’m sorry, Aaron. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be alright.” She spoke so softly that Aaron almost didn’t hear her. There was a sadness in her voice that pulled at his heart, and his concern for her only grew. Hotch sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on her upper arm asking, “Honey, would you please look at me. I need to see you.” Hotch needed to know if she was alright. Sluggishly y/n moved from her side and onto her stomach. She turned her face toward Aaron, and he assessed her. It was clear to him right away that she had been crying. Her tear streaks marked her face and her eyes were red and bloodshot. Aaron rested a hand on her cheek and said, “Sweetheart please tell me what’s wrong. You’ve been crying.” y/n sniffled and said, “It’s nothing, it’s stupid.” At hearing y/n say this, Aaron turned to face her more directly and sincerely said, “Whatever it is, it’s not stupid to me. I wanna know why you’re sad.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. There was silence as y/n thought about what to say. Finally, she responded with, “I’m just sad, Aaron, and I have no right to be. I have everything I could want. I have a job I like. I’m finally stable in my life. I have you and Jack, and I’m still so fucking sad, over nothing.” While she spoke the tears started falling again. 

Aaron listened and his heart ached for the pain y/n was feeling. He brushed his hand down her cheek and then moved his thumb to wipe away the tears falling on her face. Tenderly he said, “Darling, I’m so sorry. You’re allowed to feel sad, even if there’s no reason. And you’re allowed to be sad near me; it’s not embarrassing.” y/n made a small sound as she pressed her forehead to his thigh. Aaron wondered if this was an attempt to hide from him. He looked down at her and asked, “May I hold you, y/n” y/n sniffled but nodded yes to his request. Aaron leaned down and undid the laces of his loafer and kicked them both off with his other foot. He slipped his jacket off and moved to the other side of the bed. He pushed up the covers and lay down. When he was settled a bit, he pulled y/n close to his body. When she was cradled close to him, he could feel her relax. Aaron ran a hand up and down her side as he asked, “Have you felt this way before? Have you spoken to your therapist about these feelings?” 

y/n felt better being close to Aaron. She responded to his question saying, “I have sometimes. When the weather starts changing and the days get shorter it can get really bad. I’ve been okay for the last year or so, but now it’s back. I haven’t told my therapist yet. I was going to in our next session. I had kind of hoped that it would just go away, but it hasn’t obviously.” Aaron hummed and moved his hand to her stomach, rubbing soft circles over the flesh there. Next, he asked, “And you’re still taking your medication?” At this, y/n actually chuckled and said, “I have. I know what happens when I stop taking those and it’s not pretty.” Aaron felt a tiny bit better hearing her laugh and make a joke. The feeling in the room lightened slightly. The silence lingered for a few minutes and Aaron broke it saying, “Would you like to stay here for a little bit?” In his arms, y/n sighed and said, “Yes please.” Aaron shifted in the bed so his head was resting near her neck, and he circled his arms around her protectively. He planted a few kisses on the nape of  y/n’s neck and then stilled his movements as she quickly fell asleep. Aaron looked her over. He was glad that she found comfort in him. His embrace. He would have to do more research on seasonal depression because although he knew it was a type of depression, he didn’t know much about it. The only person that he maybe knew had issues like that was Spencer, as his younger agent had once told him that he had worse thoughts during the winter. But for now, he would just be there to support y/n. Her health and happiness were paramount to him, and he was going to do everything he could to make her feel alright. 

After an hour, Aaron and y/n woke and Aaron thought of something. He asked, “When is the last time you’ve eaten, darling?” The moment it took for her to answer told Aaron what he needed to know. When y/n replied, “It was yesterday at breakfast.” Aaron frowned at the answer and said, “Alright. Well, how about we get some food? We could make something here or I could order something for us?” y/n thought and said, “There’s not much in the fridge. Maybe we could order some _y/c/f_ ?” Aaron replied and said, “Of course, I’ll place the order now.” Aaron pulled out his phone and opened Uber Eats to get the food. After this, they both moved to the living area. Aaron opened some blinds to let some light into the room but chose not to turn on any of the overhead lighting to create a calm environment. He turned on the TV and put on Seinfeld putting the volume on low to give them some ambient noise. y/n sat on the couch and Aaron pulled her into his arms while they waited for the food to arrive. Aaron moved to stroke her hair, and as he started, she cringed slightly. He stopped his movements and asked, “What is it, y/n?”y/n felt the shame rise in her again as she said, “It’s dirty. My hair. I haven’t washed it in three days.” Aaron nodded and said, “It’s okay, y/n. I don’t mind.” y/n softly said, “Okay.” She believed him and rested her head against his chest again. Aaron started gently combing through her hair with his hands. y/n listened to the steady thumping of his heart near her ear, and her hands found a place on his stomach. When he sat, Aaron had a little tummy that hid the muscles of his torso. It was actually one of the favorite parts of his body. They hadn’t been undressed in front of the other yet, but when they were, she looked forward to paying that area extra attention. y/n knew that just being with Aaron wasn’t going to fix her mental health problems. She would have to face the emotions and it might hurt, but it was worth it. For now, Aaron was a balm and a light, and she looked forward to moving forward with him in life. She knew that with Aaron by her side, better days were coming. That the sun would shine a bit brighter than it had before.

[timeless-fanfic]

Can you make one where the reader and John are kinda rivals but they both secretly like each other and somehow that gets revealed?

I love your work and it's okay if you can't it's my first time requesting something

A Love Forged From Rivals

Chapter 1: First Impressions

Word Count: 1281

John x Reader

Note: This is also going to be a series...I love this!

The sun hung high in the sky as the small group of disciples bustled about the courtyard, preparing for another gathering. There was a quiet hum of excitement as they set up the space for those who would come to hear Jesus speak. Everyone was eager to help, moving between tasks with purpose—everyone, that is, except you and John.

You were locked in a tense, silent standoff.

John stood across from you, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes sharp with judgment. His air of quiet confidence made your skin crawl. To you, John was arrogant, always acting like he had the moral high ground. You had seen it time and again—his subtle looks of disapproval, the way he carried himself as if he was somehow more righteous than everyone else.

And yet, he was one of Jesus' closest disciples. There was no denying that. He had earned his place, just as you had earned yours. That didn't make him any less infuriating, though.

"You know, if you keep standing there staring, nothing’s going to get done," John's voice cut through the silence, his tone measured but with an edge of impatience.

You scoffed, not willing to back down. "I don’t see you doing much either, John. Or do you just prefer telling others what to do instead of lending a hand?"

His eyes flashed, and you could see the brief flicker of frustration before he quickly smoothed his expression back into its usual calm demeanor. "I’m just making sure everything is done properly."

"Right, because only you can do that," you muttered under your breath, turning away from him and focusing on the task in front of you. You were sorting through supplies, trying to make sure everything was ready for the meal after the gathering. It was simple work, but your mind was occupied with thoughts of John’s irritating presence.

The truth was, you and John had been at odds from the moment you joined the group. Both of you were passionate about the mission, both deeply committed to following Jesus, but your personalities clashed in almost every way. Where John was calm, thoughtful, and measured, you were more impulsive, often following your heart before your head. He found your brashness reckless; you found his calculated approach cold.

But underneath the surface-level frustration, there was something else—something neither of you wanted to acknowledge. You hated how your pulse quickened whenever you argued with him, how your heart raced whenever his eyes locked onto yours. It was maddening, and you shoved those feelings deep down, refusing to give them any air.

"Maybe if you weren’t so impulsive, you’d realize that taking your time with these things is important," John added, walking closer, his voice softer now but no less condescending.

You spun around to face him, unable to bite back your retort. "Maybe if you weren’t so concerned with being perfect all the time, you’d see that sometimes action is better than endless planning."

The tension between you was palpable, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade. All you could focus on was the challenge in John’s eyes, the way his presence consumed the space between you.

"Alright, you two!" Peter’s voice rang out, breaking the moment. He strolled over with a grin, clearly amused by the scene unfolding before him. "Are we really going to do this again? You’ve been at each other’s throats since breakfast."

You and John both turned to Peter, but neither of you spoke. The irritation was still simmering, but the interruption had pulled you both back from the brink of another full-blown argument.

Peter raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two argue because you like each other."

"Like each other?" you scoffed, crossing your arms defensively. "I think you’ve been in the sun too long, Peter."

John’s reaction was more restrained, but you noticed the brief flicker of something in his eyes before he quickly shook his head. "We’re just focused on different things," he said diplomatically, though his voice was a bit strained.

Peter wasn’t convinced. "Sure, sure," he teased, slapping John on the back. "Whatever you say. But don’t think we haven’t all noticed. You two have more tension than anyone else around here."

Your cheeks flushed, but not from embarrassment—no, it was more out of frustration. Peter’s teasing only added fuel to the fire. You glanced at John, expecting to see the same annoyance on his face, but instead, his expression was more guarded, thoughtful even.

Before you could say anything, James appeared, joining the conversation with a grin of his own. "They’ve definitely got something going on. But we’ll let them figure that out in their own time."

You narrowed your eyes at the brothers. "There’s nothing to figure out."

James chuckled and shook his head. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

You turned back to your work, feeling your pulse quicken—not from the argument, but from the weight of their teasing. Were they right? Did you and John argue because there was something else there? You pushed the thought away. No. That was impossible. There was nothing between you and John but rivalry and a mutual desire to prove who was more devoted to the mission.

But even as you told yourself that, you couldn’t help the way your thoughts wandered. Why did John always get under your skin so easily? Why was it that, in moments of frustration, you found yourself noticing things you didn’t want to—like the way his eyes softened when he talked about Jesus, or how his voice grew gentler when he spoke to the others?

The rest of the afternoon passed in relative silence, with you and John each avoiding the other as much as possible. But the tension lingered in the air, unspoken and unresolved.

As the sun began to set, you found yourself alone, taking a break from the preparations. The courtyard was quiet now, the others having gone inside to rest before the gathering. You sat by a low stone wall, your mind still buzzing with the events of the day.

You didn’t mean to overhear the conversation that followed, but the quiet courtyard amplified the voices nearby. You recognized the familiar tones of Jesus and John talking softly.

"I’m worried I might be too harsh sometimes," John was saying, his voice quieter than usual, almost contemplative. "Especially with her. We argue a lot, and I don’t always know how to handle it."

There was a pause, and then Jesus spoke, his voice warm and full of understanding. "You care about her, John. More than you realize. It’s okay to let your guard down. She challenges you, yes, but that’s not a bad thing."

You froze, your heart hammering in your chest as the words sank in. John... cared about you? Not just as a disciple, but as more than that?

"I guess I do," John admitted softly, his voice almost too quiet to hear. "She’s... brash, impulsive, but there’s something about her. She makes me think, makes me question things. It’s frustrating, but... I don’t mind it."

You felt your breath catch. All this time, you thought John only saw you as an annoyance, someone he tolerated because you were part of the group. But hearing him speak like this, hearing him admit that he didn’t mind your arguments, that he actually respected you—it left you reeling.

You quietly stood and slipped away before they could notice you, your mind racing with questions you weren’t ready to face.

[venture-through-the-mist]

Tennotober 2024

My collection of works based on the Tennotober 2024 prompts.

Hi all! I wanted to take part in Tennotober 2024, but I also knew that I wouldn’t be able to draw 31 art pieces, so I’m doing some fics instead!

The Warframe Tennotober 2024 Prompt List can be found here: https://forums.warframe.com/topic/1412660-official-tennotober-2024-megathread/

Day 19: Hollvania: Exploration Reveals Connections

There’s a strange group of people living in an equally strange place. Kalymos takes it upon herself to investigate.

TW:

Brief, non-graphic mentions of canon-typical violence.

Also, I just want to add that this chapter is in Kalymos’s perspective, so she does use non-human terms for certain things (like using the word ‘paw’ to describe a hand, and so forth).

With that out of the way, the fic begins under the cut.

Her eyes narrow as she spots something moving through the dim halls. She curls her lip, breathing in to detect its scent as she creeps forward. 

It smells like food.

She crouches low, her tail held straight out behind her—she makes sure to keep it as still as she can, so the creature doesn’t hear her—as she stalks forward, gaze fixed on the strange, large-eared animal. She manages to get within pouncing distance before it notices her, though it quickly bounds away, and the Kavat gives chase. She closes the gap quickly—her long legs make her a rather skillful huntress—, but before she can swipe a paw at the creature, something comes between her and her catch. She stops abruptly, glaring up at the woman who has stepped between her and her soon-to-be meal. The creature scrambles up the woman’s leg, climbing until it reaches her shoulder, where it stands, squeaking tauntingly at the Kavat. Her tail lashes and she hisses harshly at the woman, who counters with an equally angry sound. She shoos the Kavat away and, after a moment of hesitation, Kalymos stalks off.

Why did her master leave her here?

She pads through the large building, though her ears pin flat against her head as she hears several loud bangs in quick succession. She turns her head towards the source of the sound, noticing one of the males. She recognizes him as the man who often challenges the one who seems to be the leader of this odd group. She’s seen the two of them growling at each other several times, and as she eyes him warily, she notices the source of the sound. He carries a large stick-like…thing, and whatever it does, the Kavat is smart enough to know not to get caught on the wrong end of it. She huffs, her muscles tensing as the stick booms again, and decides to keep moving. 

Her paws bring her to another dim room, though this time, instead of sharp bangs or angry yowls, she’s met with a curious tone. She narrows her eyes, glancing towards the woman, recognizing the bright fur atop her head. The Kavat watches as she bares her teeth—the expression seeming to mean that the woman is pleased—, though Kalymos’s gaze quickly hones in on something else, a small object floating lazily in the air above the woman’s paw. She watches it move, and after a moment, it shifts, flitting about until it stops to hover right above her head. She leans back on her haunches, launching herself into the air to catch this strange object. At the last moment though, it darts away, her paws closing in on empty air as she falls back to the ground.

“Rrow!” She rasps harshly and her tail-tip flicks, showing her combined irritation and building excitement as she bounds after it. The woman makes a high-pitched sound—a laugh, she realizes—as the object dances in the air, taunting the Kavat as it moves out of reach before floating close again. She huffs, feigning disinterest as her target escapes her claws once more. Her plan works, and its movements slow. She glances at the woman for a moment, before leaping towards the now sluggish object.

In an instant, she knocks it out of the air.

She hears a surprised, but pleased, voice as she collects the object in her jaws, her head held up proudly as she parades it around. The woman laughs, and Kalymos pads towards her, as if to return the object. However, she cannot help but drop it a few tail’s-lengths away, hearing a mock-offended sound from the other being. Her ear flicks, and with a loud meow, she proclaims the end of her game, and pads away.

What’s that sound?

She turns, heading into a room filled with strange glowing machines, noticing a blur of movement between them. She huffs as the man seems more focused on whatever it is that he’s doing, and turns away. She doesn’t want to be caught under his paws as he runs across the room anyways.

There’s one more she could visit, Kalymos realizes. So, she lifts her head, her ears turning and nose twitching as she attempts to pinpoint the right area. She notices a nearby room that’s slightly more brightly lit than a few of the others, and pads towards it. She notices the familiar bed-like things and realizes that she is in fact in the correct place. She notices the woman lying across one of the long chairs, her head resting in a way that, to the Kavat, seems like it should be slightly uncomfortable. 

She likes this one. She’s quiet. Calm.

She pads forward and chirps sharply, noticing the woman’s head turn only slightly. Her gaze pieces Kalymos’s own, sending a ripple of unease through the Kavat as she looks into the too-dark eyes. This one is strange. She doesn’t move much, doesn’t speak often, and her eyes are wrong. 

Is she sick, the Kavat wonders, not for the first time.

She finds that the answer doesn’t matter, and jumps onto the chair. She places a paw on the woman’s legs, intending to make herself comfortable, but as she feels the being tense beneath her, as she hears a quiet sound—did she hurt her?—, she rethinks her plan. Instead, she puts her paws into the back of the chair, climbing up onto it and moving towards the woman’s head. She stops before she gets there, choosing to lie down along the back of the chair instead. Her claws knead and pull at the fabric, but the woman doesn’t seem to mind.

The Kavat’s master left her here for a reason, and if she can’t help him where he is, and she can’t see his family, Kalymos will have to make do.

A purr rumbles in her chest, a soft one—perhaps it’ll help fix whatever’s wrong with this one—, and she lowers her head to her paws. Her tail twitches lazily along the back of the chair as she takes in the silence.

It doesn’t last long.

Pawsteps stomp into the room, causing Kalymos’s head to jerk upwards, her gaze to dart around before her eyes fix on the scarred man moving quickly towards them. His voice rumbles angrily and he raises a paw to point at the Kavat. He doesn’t like her master, she remembers, and therefore distrusts her as a result. Her ears pin back slightly and she growls lowly, a warning. He looks towards the woman, speaking to her. 

He’s her kin, the Kavat recalls. Not littermates, the woman seems older than he does, but siblings. She can tell by how he acts with her. There’s something almost protective in his growl as he glares at Kalymos. She holds his gaze with a glare of her own, the gilded adornments on her tail jingling as it lashes with annoyance.

The woman doesn’t speak, but there must be some sort of communication between them because eventually the man huffs, turning his head away from the Kavat. He sits on the floor, leaning against the chair in a way where he must still be able to see Kalymos out of the corner of his eye. She narrows her eyes, but returns her head to her paws, her eyes remaining open to watch what’s going on around her.

As the time passes, the others filter into the room. First the swift one, with his jerky movements and distracted tone, comes to sit near the man, though he seems to speak to the woman. Then the bright-furred woman pads in, her tone concerned as she addresses the scarred one. She too eventually sits down, pulling another chair closer. The strange object floats above her hand, though Kalymos doesn’t feel the need to chase it this time. The Kavat growls lowly as another woman walks in, the one who’d stopped her hunt earlier. The woman glares at her, but turns to talk to the quiet one—Kalymos decidedly does not like her tone—, inspecting her as she moves her limbs slightly. The scarred man huffs, though the Kavat detects something concerned in his voice. The angry one—with one of those creatures on her shoulder, she notices—says something and turns to walk away. Even the strange man with the booming stick-thing wanders over, though only stays long enough to comment sharply to the leader.

They are a strange group, Kalymos decides. She doesn’t know why her master is so interested in them, though she figures it must be for a reason. 

She hopes he comes back soon.

[sillyseaveerablogs]

Finally, Part 1 of my MSM AU! Hopefully, it wasn't as short as the prologue.

Comforting Souls AU Part 1 ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ Breakfast. The celestials have gathered in the kitchen for their meals. The smell of crushed coffee beans and toasted bread is in the air, making the kitchen busier than yesterday.

The celestials were just chatting about their problems with their elemental monsters who were bored while Wilbur and his best friend, Humbert were asking who would win, eating their breakfast faster than lightning. “Alright! Whoever finishes the toast wins the game and gets on top of the Starhenge!” yelled Wilbur, in a shrill voice. He’s holding a toast with strawberry jam in his palm. “You bet!" Humbert challenged. He's a half-human, half-Humbug with bright green and black stripes that fall from his cowlick. He’s different from the celestials because he’s an ethereal monster that was adopted by his mother, Scarlette Poinelda. It was unknown how he got adopted. As the boys chomp down their toast, Berlioz is watching them from the table, interested in what the boys’ plans are up to. Galaxia then tells her first and probably last biological son to look at her.

She whispered” Don’t be like your brother, he’s like that sometimes,” But Wilbur didn’t bat an eyelid to his mom. He just continues to eat his toast.

Guess who wins the toast challenge? Yes, it was Wilbur. Wilbur

throws a plate from his hands and Pliro catches it. “Ey, what did I tell you the last time?!” Pliro scowled.”Hey, it’s supposed to be me who yelled at Wilbur, not you!” Vincent also scowled.

That didn’t matter to Wilbur the most. All that matters to him is that he’s the winner. “HAH, I WIN! SEE YA AT THE TOP OF THE STARHENGE!” Wilbur beamed, sprinting towards the trapdoor that his mother went up last night.

“NOT FAIR!” grouched Humbert. He just finished eating toast but instead of throwing the plate like Wilbur did, He rushes to the sink and puts it in there. He then opens his bug-like wings and starts to fly towards the trapdoor.

But it was too late for Humbert. ”Hehe, you thought you could win? Hah! Too bad! I’m opening the trapdoor!” Wilbur teased his best friend, who’s now gonna be his former friend, a few years later. But the trapdoor won’t budge.

Huh? Questioned Wilbur. What? How? The trapdoor didn't budge as when Galaxia used it that night to have a brief chat with her husband. Wilbur looks as if there’s a lockpick. No there isn’t, he thought. He gives Humbert a ‘Do you know where the lockpick is?’ look. Humbert shrugs “I don’t know”.

Humbert then goes up and pushes the trapdoor. And there it was, a Downpour. The rain poured its fill to the boys’ faces and Humbert slowly closed the trapdoor. Humbert, looking wetter than a cat that goes out to fetch a rat in the rain, looks at Wilbur, who still looks wet from the rain, and then tells him “We need to change our clothes,”. And so, the boys went down without their parents’ notice that they were wet.

The boys finally got into their shared rooms. They changed their damp clothes to their t-shirts, and long brown pants and dried their hair so the celestials won’t suspect a thing. They poke their head outside from their bedroom, wondering if their parents know where they are right now.

“All clear?” whispered Wilbur. Humbert nodded as a yes. And so, the boys quickly ran away from their room. Unfortunately, someone saw them, because there was a creak that only a mouse could hear. The boys slowly turned their heads toward the source of the sound. A 26-year-old half-Loodvigg with four bony, webbed hands and a hair that swirls at the end stood before them. He glares at them with a suspicious look and raises his eyebrow.

The boys stood there, shivering as they looked at the Spider. Humbert asked “Umm, hey Uncle… What’s with that look?” Ludo then took Hum and Wilbur to their parents by their shirts. They use sign language to Galaxia, Vincent, and Scarlette that they saw their children snuck out of their room, which made the three of Laxi, Vinci, and Scar stare at the boys.

Whoops. Didn’t see this happen.

“Wilbur, you’re grounded,” Ordered Galaxia, with disappointment on his face.

Damn.

Wilbur and Humbert into their room together.

After the boys entered their room, Vinci and Scar decided to go to look out their respective islands, which left Laxi and Ludo alone.

“Did you see their face, Luddy?” asked Laxi, a snicker coming out from her giggly face. Ludwig nodded with a smirk on the right side of their face. The Galaxia he knew was something he couldn’t help but always put his guard down.

He always sees her as his little sister.

Just like his friend’s son and his (not) adopted sister’s son

Not realizing that…

They’ll no longer be friends, in a few years.

[diedbrave]

“Christina doesn’t need to tell on you, I figured it out all on my own. I just know you extremely well.” the writer teased, ginning at the brunette over their shared meal. Eddie falling out of his routines that were usually so meticulous --- and the distinct lack of the ingredients for his usual smoothies in the fridge --- wasn’t hard to miss when they lived together and they were both so used to each other’s patterns at this point. The fact that they were spending less and less time in bed, sleeping or otherwise, was another good indication that Eddie had thrown himself completely into his work. Bill was nothing if not an attentive and caring husband. He just wanted to make sure that his lover was taking care of himself and being taken care of.

He returned the touch beneath the table, linking their ankles together, making sure that the brunette was digging in, only satisfied when he took a bite. Bill did the same, chewing slowly and methodically, his smile softening slightly. Making his husband feel bad was never his intention, he just wanted to let him know that he was missed. “It’s okay, baby, I get it. Believe me I do.” The author did the same thing on occasion, after all. “I’m just trying to make sure that I’m a good husband and taking care of you when you’ve got so much on your plate.” If he could help then he would, but this wasn’t really his forte. The best that he could do was support his husband in any other way he could come up with. Bill’s brows raised in a slightly challenging expression, blue eyes alight with his plans. “I fuck you on mine,” he countered, although he knew that the retort would be that his desk was in their home. Most of the time. But Eddie needed to relax and let go. Get his mind off work for a little while. And there was nothing more distracting than that. “We can always move the food you know. And you’re supposed to be taking a break anyway.” There was no rush for Bill, although he knew that Eddie did need to get back to work. Eventually. Very deliberately, the writer moved his own sandwich over to one of the other table tops in the large office and downed some water before moving back over to his husband. Both hands laid on the brunette’s thighs and he knelt down between them.

“We also don’t have to fuck.”

______

“Mmm, well, I’m still going to blame her.” He said it in slight jest, because it wasn’t like he was going to give her consequences for letting his husband in on his stress levels, or letting him in the office at all. He probably would have been even more annoyed if he had found out that Bill had swung by, and he had been turned away. He didn’t realize that he had been making it so obvious though that he was too engrained in his work, and made a mental note that he needed to be more discreet about that stuff. The last thing he wanted was for Bill to worry. 

“You’re always a good husband, you don’t need to worry about that, Bill.” Eddie stated between bites of his food, wanting to make sure that was absolutely clear. Bill was incredibly attentive, and there were certainly no doubts how much the other looked after him. He always had, even if it was incredibly different now from what it was when they were children. Eddie did shoot a look at Bill across the desk, rolling his eyes, even though his face was heating up to his ears at that point. And just like Bill assumed, “Yes, well, your desk is at our house. In the quiet. Where coworkers couldn’t hear us.” 

He thought that would be the end of that, really, until Bill was moving away his food. Eddie raised an eyebrow, not quite ready to protest just yet and assume anything. As soon as the older was kneeling in front of him, Eddie found himself choking on his drink, banging on his chest a bit as he looked down with wide brown eyes. “Bill! Language!” He hissed, though his eyes immediately darted upwards, looking around the office, as if someone might be spying. As if their were cameras. As if he wasn’t the boss of this damn place, and really, if they got caught, who was going to fire him....himself? 

Eyes moved back down to Bill, swallowing nervously. “How do you expect me to say no when you look so hot on your knees, babe? That isn’t fair!” 

@scribedhorror 

[whumperfultime]

Whumpril 2024 Day 7: Hesitation

@whumpril

Contains: Emotional whump/angst, guilt, platonic comfort, and mentions of gunshot wounds, infection, fever, blood and near character death

~

Kalei was finishing preparing dinner when Dace emerged from her bedroom. As usual, he left the door open a crack, just wide enough that they could hear Matago if he called for them or needed anything. It had become routine over the past few weeks.

“How’s he doing?” she asked.

“Seems to be doing well,” Dace replied, keeping his voice low. “Still no fever and the wound itself is healing nicely. He’s trying to get some sleep right now.”

He and Kalei sat down at the small kitchen table, beginning to serve themselves dinner. It was a relief to know that Matago was doing well, but Kalei still kept half her attention on that slightly open door. It felt like any minute, something could go wrong again.

Matago should never have gotten hurt. The three of them had gone through a dry spell between jobs and Kalei had gotten restless. She chose a simple retrieval job for one of their regular clients, the sort of thing that should have been a breeze. But the goddamn restlessness and desire to get paid got the better of her and she didn’t plan carefully enough. They were too rushed. Too careless.

When they were attempting to sneak away from the storage facility with their stolen goods, a security guard spotted them and opened fire. Matago got hit in his right side.

They barely got him to the hospital in time, but by some miracle he survived. They spent most of the client’s payment on the medical bills. And just after Matago was discharged, he ended up back in the hospital a few days later…the wound had become infected.

Even though Dace and Matago already lived together, meaning he wouldn’t be alone when he was discharged again, Kalei insisted that the two stay at her apartment for a while for her own peace of mind. She’d given him her bedroom for the time being and she and Dace took turns sleeping on the couch or the living room floor. They also took turns checking up on Matago as he recovered, bringing him meals and water and medicine and checking up on how the wound was healing.

It seemed to be going fine so far, but Kalei still couldn’t shake the anxiety. The greatest relief came from mealtimes when she was able to focus on cooking. It was a ritual that always relaxed her. Dace was pretty good at distracting her, too.

“So,” Dace said as they began to eat, “I’ve been asking around the area to try and find out if there are any job opportunities here in Acora.”

Kalei raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I found a few to consider. I know a guy who knows a smuggler who wants to get some stolen Ezanuan artifacts back to their home territory. They’re set to go to that new museum opening up west, but the two of us could probably grab them when they’re in transit. Or we could move some stripped parts for Lyra, since they’ve been catching heat lately. And there’s always the option of doing a quick in and out in one of those mansions on the north side, or at the very least casing them.”

All local and all technically doable. “I don’t know if that’s a great idea right now.”

“Why not?”

“There’s only two of us.”

Dace scoffed. “Those are all jobs we could probably do in our sleep at this point. And since they’re all in Acora, we don’t even have to worry about needing a pilot. If you want extra help to cover for Matago’s absence, I’m sure there are some people we could ask-”

“It sounds too risky. I don’t want to rush into anything.”

Instead of challenging her further, Dace paused. Even with her gaze fixed on the surface of the kitchen table, she could feel him staring at her. She tried to ignore the feeling only for him to ask, “You’re still blaming yourself, aren’t you?”

Kalei wanted to argue. To snap back at him, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong. But instead she sighed and hunched forward. “I didn’t pay enough attention to the security patrol routes. If I had, Mat probably wouldn’t have gotten hit.”

“You know he doesn’t blame you.”

“Well, I do.” Kalei dropped her fork and crossed her arms over her chest. It was so unlike her to rush into a job, even when business was slow. Caution and careful planning were what got her this far so why the hell had she overlooked such important details?

“There’s always a risk of things going wrong. That comes with the job.”

When Kalei answered, her voice was quieter. “He almost died.”

The memories of the past several weeks flashed through her mind. The gunshots ringing out as they ran for the ship. Matago going down with a strangled cry of pain, blood staining his jumpsuit. The hours and hours spent waiting for updates from the doctors at the hospital, all the while keeping an eye out for police who might be looking for them. The blazing fever that woke him up in the middle of the night and Dace frantically sending a message to Kalei saying he was sick.

And all of it was her fault.

Dace sighed, trying to figure out the best way to respond, while Kalei struggled to hold back the few tears trying to push their way out. She could almost still feel the sensation of Matago’s blood coating her hands as she and Dace performed first aid on the way to the hospital.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he finally said. “We all know there’s danger going into a job. We all know we could get arrested, or hurt, or worse. We could spend years trying to plan the perfect mission, keep track of every imaginable detail, and there’s still a chance of something going wrong. That chance hit us last time. And you don’t deserve to put all on the responsibility on yourself when there’s always gonna be factors outside our control.”

Kalei forced herself not to immediately argue. Dace wasn’t wrong – some of her most meticulous plans had fallen through in the past, though thankfully the consequences hadn’t been as severe. “I just…I feel like I should have done more to prevent it.”

“You did what you could and that’s enough. Plus you made sure we got him to the hospital in time. Hell, you’ve given up your bedroom for the past several days just to make sure he’s comfortable and taken care of.”

The guilt didn’t go away entirely, but each of Dace’s words chipped away at it, making it lighter. It was enough for her to think more clearly. “I know it’s been a while since we worked, and I know that under different circumstances the two of us could pull those jobs off, but it’s not the right time. I can’t keep myself calm and focused enough to lead. And it doesn’t feel right without Mat.”

Rather than challenging her, Dace seemed to relax, nodding in understanding. “That’s okay. We can wait as long as we have to. But I will annoy you until you stop beating yourself up.”

She actually laughed at that. The weight was even lighter. “Fair enough.”

[eachday4j]

On our travels together.

On this day when we celebrate the act, the choice of our togetherness — my ever-strengthening desire for you to “be mine” each day — I’m thinking about distance. Time. Mileage. How far we’ve come, how far we’ve been, and where we can go now and forever.

The first image I posted for you!

Let’s first think about how far this page has come, because I first posted for you here 13 years ago today! Now here we are, a mere 4,663 eachdays later, a number which I find sort of mind-boggling. I’m unsure what I though it would become when I first started, but really just this one website feels like a kind of symbol of our lives together: it has blown through a lot of years in no time at all; it has remained steady and strong despite the challenges along the way; and it has, seemingly, no end in site.

So that all seems good, wouldn’t you say?

I would say that we’ve traveled together. Traveled together a lot. We’ve crossed this country, enjoyed road traveling, airplane traveling, river traveling. Hiking and biking traveling. All manner of crossing great and small distances and with very few exceptions, we’ve done it all by each other’s sides. There are so many people we talk to or hear about, so many couples and families, who travel for work or vacation separately or who otherwise choose to get away from it all — but separately. You and I don’t do that. We love our together-travels, our adventures into the unknown as well as the familiar. We want to see everywhere, do everything, be there together, see it and live it together. And I do love that about us, I love how important it is.

But of course I wouldn’t really be writing this to you today if I only wanted to talk about physical travel. Yes, I’ve got metaphors on the brain! As I should, as I must! As, hopefully, you would expect and want from me.

Our travels have taken us through thousands of meals, movies, museums, shows and parks and tours. We have dated our way through decades worth of planned and stolen moments, and I cherish all the memories of our time alone. Both before we were married and then after — and still now, many years later as we work so hard to carve out time alone together. And yes, of course my beautiful darling: it’s never enough. We always need to have more dates, to travel further and further together in pursuit of time spent alone. I want and need this every bit as much as I know you do, and I know I need to work much harder to make it happen. It’s magic, wondrous when it does, our traveling together.

Even more than places and dates, you and I are time travelers. With every hour and every passing day, we move forward together as our married life unspools before us. All of the unexpected, extraordinary elements of life, darting out with sometimes alarming suddenness in front of us — and we pull through it all, side-by-side. We laugh and cry and we’re shocked and amazed. We’re sleepy and bored and enthralled and amused by the tapestry of time. At this point, we’ve had more of our lives together than we’ve had apart, a fact that I find truly amazing, and humbling, and wondrous. it’s hard to remember a time without you in my life. For me, there was certainly no real joy, no permanence or future before you. No commitment or devotion. I didn’t know the meaning of time, or of traveling through it, before you entered my life.

Blessedly, we’re also able to travel back in time, to the millions of memories created by our life together. All of the joys and heartaches and laughter and losses. Surprises and disappointments, shocks and mundanities, all of them bringing change and significance to who we are now. We are formed by our time traveled together. We can revisit all that has come before and imagine all that we still have left to do. As a married couple, we have encountered so many of life’s most meaningful milestones — the big things, the huge moments that define human existence. We’ve had those together! I would never have known any of this without you in my life, and I cannot express to you in even 10 million words what you’ve meant to me. What you’ve done for my life.

And there’s still so much in front of us, such a wealth of traveling that we can still do!

But here’s where we go back to the real travel vs. metaphorical travel thing I mentioned earlier. Because while our actual travels — the vacations, the dates, the trips to the store where we go together just so that we can be together for a while — have defined end-points, the other kind of traveling doesn’t. Our travels together really have no endings; the destination is not what’s important but rather the travel itself. The journey we share together is where we enrich our lives, where we learn and grow and mature and develop an ever-more-deep and abiding love for each other. That journey never stops and never ends. It’s like the most beautiful, serene walk through the forest surrounded by sunlight and leaves and beautiful bluebirds, and on this walk we never tire. We simply walk on, getting stronger all the time, loving our togetherness more and more which each traveling step.

We do this. We can continue to do this. We can always travel together, forward and forever.

Let’s go!

[haruharuz]

Mindset Challenge: Week One

I’m an effort to improve my mental health (as it is kind of horrific) I’m doing a mindset challenge. I’ll post one of these every week so you can follow along.

Reframe your thoughts: Change the first thought in quotations to something similar to the second thought as often as you can. Follow up with an ACTION (A).

“I should have done more” : “I cannot bring back past time, but I can do more in the future.” A: Do one thing for a goal without procrastinating or use a pomodoro for 30 minutes

“I wish I would have-“ : “I didn’t do something I wanted, but I will do that soon!” A: Make plans to do something you think you’d WISH you’d done in the future. (Go out to eat, color, concert etc)

Feelings & Solutions:

“I’m so behind!” = feeling overwhelmed, demotivated, anxious. Solution: “What can I celebrate?” + Write/Say 5 things you did that were productive in any way today.

“I’m never going to make it.” = feeling tired, unoriginal, demotivated, and uncared for. Solution: “It is okay if I do not, but I will try.” + Write down two positive thoughts about your version of “making it” + 3 minutes of yoga or more

Stop Obsessive Thoughts:

That thought isn’t helpful right now

This is irrational I am going to let it go

I should not be making myself suffer, I deserve to feel good

Shadow Work Journal Prompt:

What was one time you royally fucked up? How did you respond? What did you learn from this? How do you feel about this now? Write down three things you need to hear in regards to this situation.

Other:

Go one hour per day with no social media. This is the perfect time for working on goals or relaxing

Do at least two yoga sessions per week that totals up to 1 hour.

Mental Health Checklist:

Have you eaten a meal? Have a meal or a snack.

Have you had water? Drink a glass.

Is your space messy? Tidy it for 5 minutes.

Did you brush your teeth/hair? If not, go do that.

Are you still in pajamas? Change into comfortable daily clothing.

[introloves]

🦷: Okayy but daddy Iwa leaving his baby with mattsun while he’s gone like bo does and mattsun taking such good care of iwa’s little girl,,and if mattsun can’t Iwa will reluctantly leave her w makki who’s so much meaner 🥺🥺

— dom! matsukawa + sub space + teasing + mentions of pain + predator/prey dynamics + slight hair pulling + mentions of fear + masochist reader + size kink + dacryphilia + big dick + heavy breath play + choking + praise + creampie + petname (bunny) + f! reader

— word count: 2.6k

he looked her over, unable to stop the smirk from forming. shy eyes made his chest swell in a primal swirl of lust. already so sweet for him, and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

“y/n.”

“hm?” your voice answered back in a small hum, cute and shy. he couldn’t help but let a shiver crawl up his back at the thought of how you’d sound broken and whining just like that for him.

but he was being too forward, no wonder why iwaizumi had asked to leave you in his care- you were dangerously alluring.

you were here to be taken care of, and what he wanted might not match up to what you wanted, he’d test the waters first.

grabbing your hand gently, making sure to not startle you all too bad- letting you know it was okay, there was nothing to be embarrassed or shy about; the plan was set out, in detail- by hajime.

the thought of leaving you alone while he joined his team out of the country wasn't something he liked to entertain- you were supposed to be taken care of at all times, even when he couldn't. that's why this arrangement was drawn up. it was something mattsun could do.

he led you to his room, motioning to where the bathroom, kitchen- where all the necessities were. his house was small; enough for him and now for you, it was where you would be staying at… and you were grateful.

“its not much… but its comfortable.” the tone and smoothness of his voice eased you further- the slowly oscillating timbre of notes made you melt.

you nodded, smiling a little, bending your head in appreciation.

it squeezed at his heart, the way you were so polite and kind, a sweet little thing he couldn’t believe belonged to iwaizumi.

it made sense, you’d made the comment on how you liked men that could protect, men who would put you on your knees by just a look… and he so deeply hoped he fit that criteria.

in private, you knew he was- he was tall and big, taller than your hajime, maybe not as thick, not as built, but his presence still made your knees shake.

you let yourself watch him from the corner of your eyes, watching him walk forward, settling down the bag he’d taken from you on his bed… in all honesty, you’d seen his couch- and someone as big as him would not have a pleasant time sleeping on it… but you didn't know where he was going to draw the line.

you’d hope he’d stay, hope he’d cuddle you and make you feel good… sleeping alone was not familiar to you.

being alone was an ugly thought, it was exhausting and horrible. being spoiled made you greedy and needy- all in one. a pretty thing iwa was proud of, always showing you off.

you needed someone, and you wholly agreed to be pretty and good for issei.

“okay bunny.” he sighed, sitting down at the edge of the bed, looking at you.

the petname sent little prickles of heat down your back, making you dizzy and complaint, it triggered a nice and comfy haze clouding your mind.

“time for bed?” he asked, watching the slow blink of your eyes, chest rising and falling slowly- slipping into that sweet headspace.

oh…

iwaizumi really had you trained well.

he was going to have so much fun with you.

“what do you want, pretty girl.” issei questioned, leaning forwards elbows on his thighs; looking at you like a good meal, something he was very eagerly waiting to take a bite out of- lower lip glistening with saliva as he passed his thick tongue over it.

it made you take a step forward, a pretty bunny falling right into the claws of something big and mean- being devoured came easiest for you.

“take care of me.” you whispered, placing two shaky hands on his shoulders. broad frame, nice and sturdy, warm and strong. everything a little bunny like you needed for security.

his lips curled into a pleasant smile, canines glistening under the light of his room, smirking at your sweet words.

“ah- you want me to take care of you?” mattsun’s voice was laced with inquisition, wanting to hear another note of confirmation.

“yes please. haji said you would.” you responded, pouting at the slight teasing, but quickly warming up when those hands of his wrapped around your sides. it felt real easy, tugging you onto his lap.

“oh, bunny i will.” he assured, thinking over his next words.

“i just… you know the difference between me and iwaizumi… right?” there was small apprehension, felt like he was trying to piece together words that wouldn’t scare you off. shaking your head slightly, they did everything but that- luring you in with the promise of something dangerous, something exciting.

it was really cute- he could hear your heart pound from where he was, watching your face scrunch up, leaning into him.

“if you want me to take care of you, i need to let you know- i’m a lot bigger than him.” matsukawa huffed, sliding the hold on your sides down to your hips, groaning at the warmth and softness molding under his palms.

“and i dont fuck like he does.”

the smooth timbre of his voice turned gravely, growling out those last few words, bringing your body to his- entrapping you in all of him. he let himself grace your neck, lips just barely touching- letting you back away at the challenge.

but you were a greedy thing, the small hint of danger electrifying every nerve in your body. thighs jumping around his lap, squirming.

he says it like a warning, but all it does is excite you. the promise of him fucking you doenst let you focus on anything else.

mattsun feels your squirming, sees the way you bite at your lips, pupils dilating as you watch him, wide eyes roaming his face.

he's the one who starts the grind, tightening the hold, shifting to sit back slightly; pushing you against the length already hard and heavy in his pants.

this is his favorite part, seeing the surprise- eagerly watching for the look of pure shock. maybe you're finally feeling the heavy severity of the situation, maybe it's a jolt of arousal that makes your eyes shake, lips parting in amazement at being sat on his big cock.

whichever one it is, it makes your head tip back, huffing out a tiny noise of surprise and want.

it feels so big, even now, just sat on his cock through his. pants and your bottoms and it's all just so-

“oh!”

throbbing cunt passing over a ridge, catching over your puffy clit, knowing it's the swell of his cockhead. it makes you weak, tipping forward, tugging at his shirt.

issei chuckles in response, warm hand traveling up your back, curling against your head. there's a tiny moment of reprieve- sits there, watching your shoulders tense up before he tugs.

it's gentle at first, admiring how you shape yourself perfectly for him, going limp as soon as he does, but just like you- he's a greedy man and pulls- back bowing against him. with clenched teeth at how you squirm, he hisses;

“what is it bunny?” what's got you makin’ those pretty sounds?”

there's already tears forming against your lashes, the feeling of your cunt freely gliding against the pool of arousal lying wetly right on your panties makes everything that more… exciting. if he's able to bring you to this state by just tugging at your hair… the thought makes you desperate or what else he could do to you.

“you! it's you ‘sei! don't want you to tease- take. care. of. me.” you mewl, exasperated at his actions.

he's so close- you can feel his cock pulse under him, and you want nothing more than to be split open.

but your sweet little tantrum simply makes him laugh, bringing your throat to his mouth, teeth grazing sweetly against the thrum of your pulse.

“little bunny… you’ve got some fight, hm?” he whispers, letting you go with a quick little bite- a reminder, something to let you know to calm yourself.

usually he’d take his time- reduce you into a mess of cum and tears and spit until you’re crying out for him, and even then he wouldn’t give you what you wanted. however, issei would play nice for now, knowing your little outburst was all due to the want for him. it made his heart thump loudly against his ribs.

“it’s okay- i’ll fuck it out of you.” mattsun groans.

you tense up at his words- the throbbing against the spot where he nipped keeping a heavy reminder, impatience didn't look pretty on you.

he lets a hand leave the warmth of your hips, thumb digging into the side of your cheek impatiently, keeping your head tilted to look at him- the tension in your scalp lessens and you're aware of the direction his other hand is traveling.

the sound of his belt clinking, button popping open, and zipper falling makes you squeak. whole body lighting up, pressing your cunt right against the hand working to release him from his pants.

“please!”

the word slips from your lips involuntarily, and once again, he lets the slip up go. there would be time to teach you to wait, to earn what he gives you.

using the grip he already has on your face, he picks you up, a show of strength tugging you up by your face to give his cock room to be released. your knees shakily hit either side of the bed around his body, hips tipping forward- giving him space, but even then, you feel the tip of his cock brush against your pussy.

a high, shaky sound of air leaving your lungs in a shocked whimper makes his cock jump heavily- your hands landing by your face as you stare, chest heaving- weight of his hand falls from your face, down to your neck, pressing you deep into the bed.

the thrum of fear peaks once more, exaggerating another gush of arousal, this time running down your ass- no longer caught by your panties.

“pretty.” is all he says, squeezing once, watching your legs jump. his thumb swipes up against your cheek to catch a stray tear. he wants to make a remark about your skittish muscles, working against you to tense up with every movement he makes, but the heavy lust burning in his stomach doesn't let him.

“breathe in for me- it’ll hurt less if you do.”

there’s sick pleasure watching you nod, so eager to do what he says just to be hurt in order to take him all. he wastes no time in order to tug your bottoms off, impatiently working with only one hand, all while he keeps his eyes on your face. its all a frenzy of want.

he wanted to take you like an animal, wanted to make it hurt- wanted to break your soft mind, but he resists. it’ll be fine for now, the time to play how he wants could happen at a later time.

the head of his cock meets heavy resistance, slickened by the never ending stream of arousal leaking out of your wanting hole- it makes it a little more bearable. you such in a breath, just like he says, tongue heavy with the weight of it playing against your cunt.

he was right, he was right and now your heart beat loudly in your chest at the feeling of him pressing in more and more- he was bigger than your hajime, and it hurt.

it hurt so good.

“m-more!” you gasp, impatiently waiting with the slow pace he's taking you. hands clawing at the hand still wrapped firmly around your throat, legs thumping over and over on either side of him.

it takes him back, gasping at the slight tilt of your hips seeking more of him, his eyebrows pinch together in amusement and surprise.

you were proving to be more of a challenge than he thought- but he did as he was told for now, shifting down to really pin you.

“pretty girl, so dirty- you keep surprisin’ me.” he grunts, watching your body lie pliant, mouth hanging open in a desperate and now silent plea.

he counts to three before lessening up, blinking at the way you shoot up to take a heavy gulp of air.

“good bunny.” he seethes, trying to keep up with your greedy cunt, fluttering around him as he pushes in and in and in.

its so good, nails digging into the arm still trapping your upper body down onto the bed, drooling as your tongue lulls out.

you’re hot and wound up, pooling sweat dripping down against your clothes, smushed against his mattress.

the first slam of his hips inside makes you sob, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of all the tension leaving your body, a reaction to being fucked so hard. you can feel him make a noise of appreciation at that, pushing his weight- using it to fuck you down onto the bed.

“so good- such a greedy pussy, only satisfied when it's being pounded like this- hm?”

issei emphasizes his words with an increasing tempo, barely giving himself time to breathe, drunk on your cunt- the pretty sounds you're making, the way your eyes have rolled to the back of your head, small hands no longer grabbing at his wrist.

you're creaming around him, already cuming at just mintues of being given what you so desperately begged for.

“issei! ‘sei!”

it sounds so pretty leaving your mouth in this breathy pitch and it's getting to him, the building orgasm crawling towards him at a rapid pace.

he releases the hold on your neck to grab desperately at your hips, arching your back against him while you jolt, body receiving the shock of his pistoning hips- slapping heavily onto your thighs, mixing with the loud squelch and squeal singing from your body.

you can’t will your muscles to contract any longer, already cuming once more at the change in position, weakly crying out his name- sweet and fucked out, babbling the consonants of his name over and over again.

“good girl- c-cuming so pretty for me.” he pants, teeth clashing together as he pushes past the resistance of your walls once more, sheathing his cock inside in a final attempt to make it hurt. he knows he’s successful when you lift up off the bed, choking out a warbling scream.

his body seizes, matching the feverish way you’re spasming around his body.

the heated, spurt of cum inside your cunt comes in thick ropes and you exhale in response, turning your head left to right as you receive it all- take it all in your battered, swollen walls.

he stays right where he stops, head hooked down, eyes looking at the cream of cum splattered on the stretched out lips of your cunt.

“fuck.” he gasps, slowly coming back from the overwhelming burst of pleasure.

“are you okay?” matsukawa asks, eyes softening at the way you slowly open your eyes, blinking hot tears from your lashes.

you cant respond verbally just yet, giving him a nod, a small tilt of your head before dropping your legs- finally relaxing.

he sees why you need this every night, you're glowing- covered in sweat and a sweet smile playing at your lips.

“so good- thank you issei.” you sing, already ready to sleep- and with the almost devious curl of your lips, he swears you- the sweet bunny he brought into his home was more predator than prey.

“play with me some more... later- please.” you hum, shivering at the globs of cum cooling against your stretched cunt, all before you sigh and close your eyes, looking for that sweet sleep.

matsukawa stays up a bit later, giving iwaizumi a quick text- asking if you would ever truly be satisfied, and the response he gets sends a prickle of heat curling against his neck-

fuck her unconscious or else she’ll keep wanting more.

like my work? support me on ko-fi!

[iwadori]

Haikyu Boys when they make you insecure PT 2(Atsumu,Suna)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3  Part 4  Part 5 Part 6

word count: 1.6K

Genre: angst,fluff

Masterlist

Atsumu:

You have been dating the great setter of the MSBY Jackals since your third year in highschool 

You’ve always been okay with his profession 

Even when it comes with the adoring fans he has (the ones that don’t necessarily like you..)

And the away games he goes to, that you can’t always go to because of your job.

You and Atsumu got to spend all of quarantine together, which was challenging at times. As you and Atsumu sometimes did have conflicting personalities but you loved being together for 8months + altogether. 

But now with the restrictions being lifted, Atsumu got to go back to practice and playing some games although you still got to work from home. Over lockdown, you do feel like you gained a bit of weight (which you didn’t pay much attention to since didn’t everyone gain some weight?) 

However, today you were scrolling through twitter, smiling fondly at the recent tweet ‘tsumu made about you;

@ ThebetterMiya: ‘Remember this @ *Insert your twitter handle here* ‘ 

It was a picture of the two of you in high school in your second year, with you giving Atsumu a hug just after his game against Karasuno. The memory made you smile, but your positive thoughts stopped after seeing a particular comment... “Y/N has definitely let herself go” it read.

 To your surprise Atsumu even liked the comment, you didn’t want to overthink things as you know that Atsumu just unconsciously likes comments and tweets without thinking all the time. But you can’t lie and say you didn’t agree with the comment. 

For the rest of the day, you spent your time googling and searching personal trainers and gyms that were open for you to go to and new healthy diet plans to try

.Atsumu came home a while later, tired and grumpy claiming that coach worked him extra hard in practice. Because of your newfound idea to start eating and being more healthy, you decided to have one last day of ‘letting go’ so your ordered yours and ‘tsumu’s favourite take out.

Whilst eating dinner, you were going INNN as you should  because this is basically your ‘last meal’ you were going to have. ‘tsumu caught onto your cavemen-like way of eating which made him chuckle a bit. “Hey babe, woahh you’re really hungry aren’t ya?” 

His comment threw you off, even though you know that he probably didn’t mean anything by it but from the comment on his twitter earlier and how you already feel about yourself it just didn’t help.

“Well what do you mean about that?” you say a little agressively “you think i’m getting bigger right?”

Your question threw him off guard since he didn’t mean that “well Y/N I know you’ve kinda let youself go a bit and you’re obviously not the weight you were when we 16 but-” before he could finish you get up out of your seat and rushed to your room with tears in your eyes, missing the end of his sentence which was “but I still think you’re beautiful” he murmurs.

He decided to give you some space for a bit, and before approaching he see’s your phone ringing (lets just say you and Atsumu have ultimate trust so you can answer eachothers phones :3) “Hello is this Y/N L/N” the person on the otherside of the phone asked 

“No, this is Miya Atsumu” your boyfriend replied 

“Oh! Miya-san i’m a big fan of you!” he started making Atsumu chuckle “I was just calling Y/N to say i’m available next week saturday to start training”

‘Training?’ Atsumu thought “Can I ask what training you’re preparing for with Y/N” he asks

“Oh I am a personal trainer.” he replied “ Well that’s all I can say, can you please tell Y/N-san to call me again so we can work out times.” he ended the call.

Atsumu goes into your shared-bedroom where he finds you on your laptop looking at ‘weight loss’ tips. He goes over to you and closes your laptop lid and pulls your hand to lead you to the mirror in the room. He stands you in front of it and puts his arms around your waist and his head on your shoulder.

“You’re beautiful Y/N” he says, sparking more tears in your eyes “I think you misunderstood what I said earlier, you. are. goregous. babe” he says punctuating every single word. “Even, if you feel like you gained weight, or lost weight or whatever I will always think your beautiful. If you feel like you want or need to change I will definitely support you along the way, but I think you’re amazing Y/N.”

“Thank you ‘tsumu” you start “ I do feel a bit insecure about the way I look right now, and I’m sorry for my abrupt leave at dinner but I do feel like my body is gross but I do want to try to see myself the way you see me.”

After many efforts from Atsumu, you definitely fell back in love with your body wether you were bigger or small you didn’t care cause you knew you were beautiful either way and so did Atsumu which he reminded you of that every single day.

AN: Can someone give me a synonym for beautfiul lmao cause that’s the only word I can think to use lol.

Suna:

You and Suna have always surprised people when they find out that you’re together.

Since your loud and talkative personality mixed with his quiet and nonchalantness is that a word? seems to not work well for other people

But opposites attract right?

You just finished the last episode of Kakegurui and were excited for your boyfriend to come home so you can tell him about it. You and Suna have been dating for a few years, after you confessed to him in front of all the boys in the gym in your 3rd year.

Suna enters the house mumbling a soft “Hi Y/N” to which you responded back with “Hi suna” rushing towards your boyfriend with a big hug. 

He slightly recoiled back out of your hug making you frown, to which he used the excuse of ‘I smell bad from practice let me take a shower.’ Whilst he was in the shower you decided to make some dinner for you both since it seems that Suna is a bit ‘grumpy’ today.

Once he exits the shower, and gets changed, he sees the table set out with the delicious food you made. You exit the bathroom to see him sat down already eating his plate. “How do you like it ?” you ask him wanting to know his opinion on your food.

“It’s good” he mumbles, continuing to shove food in his mouth. A bit bothered by the lack of response, you decide to talk about the newest episode in the hopes of lighting the mood. “Last episode of Kakegurui was great Rin, you should’ve seen it I really love mary. She’s great, I am a Mary Saotome simp through and through I still didn’t get the game they played but who cares? I can’t wait for season 3 to come out, I’ve already ordered the first 3 volumes of the Kakegurui twin manga, do you think it’s as good as the manga since I do think it’ll probably be better since it is Mary-centric and who hates mary since she-” You ramble on not taking notice of the bubbling annoyance that Suna seemed to have.

“Can you just shut up Y/N” he shouted making you flinch “ You’re so fucking talktative gosh” he got up and left the house slamming the door shut making you jump again. 

Instead of wallowing in your bed you decide on going out the library to go and read a good book (something that always makes you feel better) forgetting the harsh tone that Suna used with you. You were only trying to lighten the mood...

You got too engrossed with your books to notice how the sun is now gone and it was pitch black outside, the librarian notified you that it was time to go, you figure that if Suna was back at home he would’ve cooled down now so you can have a proper conversation which to be honest, you didn’t really want one.

Once you enter your house, Suna rushes towards you enveloping you in a big hug murmuring a “Oh thank god I was so worried” he tried to give you a kiss on the forehead but you recoil out of it, just as he did to you earlier. 

“I think i’m going to go to bed Rin” you say quietly trudging towards your bedroom and getting immediately in your bed. Suna stood there in the spot you left him in feeling bad for what he said to you at dinner. He goes into you bedroom and see you on your bed and silently gets into it next to you.

“Y/N I know you probably don’t want to hear me right now, but I am sorry” You don’t respond but slowly move closer to him letting him put his arm around you. Because of your silence Suna continues to speak “Umm...I watched the last episode earlier and you were right Mary Saotome is the goat but.... yumeko is better” he said teasingly 

This made you smile, as this is what you wanted a nice moment with your boyfriend talking about the last episode of your favourite show. You spend the rest of the night arguing over which character is better and decide to start Demon Slayer together, with Suna enjoying your after episode talks that you have.

AUTHOR NOTE: I was really excited to write for Suna and Atsumu but I have a fat migraine so i’m so sorry for it not being thattt gooood today :// but I hope you enjoy it regardless 

[ptergwen]

Can you do one where mj is keep telling the reader to confess to Peter that she likes him but the reader is too shy and doesn’t want to but Peter overheard their whole conversation then they confess their feelings and fluff?

w/c: 1,037

warnings: like one swear

a/n: hi omg this took forever for literally no reason i’m sorryjfhwdjs i hope u still enjoy <3

-

“fuck… i like him so much, mj. i don’t think you understand,” you gush, too busy venting to notice her eye roll.

the pair of you are sharing a pizza at the cheapest restaurant you could find. during your meal, your conversation naturally drifted off to peter because he’s all you care to talk about as of late. you’ve been crushing on him for a minute, and mj is who you choose to confide in.

she wishes you’d spill your guts already for her sake and yours. mostly hers, though.

you finish chewing a piece of pizza crust. “i like him more and more every day. it’s kinda insane, even feeling this way about someone.” grunting, mj puts down her glass of lemonade. “especially peter.” she squints at you from across the table. “i refuse to believe the kid gets you this hot and bothered.”

“stop, he’s so…” a dreamy grin stretches across your lips. just the mention of peter livens your life. “he’s so funny, you know? with his stupid puns. those actually make me laugh.” mj is unimpressed, sipping her drink with a blank expression. “so, he’s got jokes. big deal. what do you really see in him, y/n?”

peter suddenly strolls into the pizzeria. coincidentally, he’s there to pick up an order of takeout for him and may.

his gaze instantly sets on you and mj, more so you if he’s being honest. he smiles as he watches you animatedly chat amongst yourselves. you’re waving your hands around while mj huffs and puffs.

it’s cute, really cute.

he’s considering stepping off the pickup line to go over to you two. then, he hears his name come up. he doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but his enhanced hearing has other plans.

“peter just has this energy to him that i can’t get enough of,” you further elaborate. mj rips another pizza slice from the rack, needing the fuel to continue your chat. “like, he’s so warm and genuinely kind… it kinda rubs off on you. it’s really comforting.”

you’re anxiously tapping your fingers on the table top, now hyperconscious of your surroundings. it’s almost like you’re being watched.

mj hums. “right, but why are you telling me instead of peter?” she chomps on a particularly stringy piece of cheese, giving you a moment to ask yourself the same question.

why are you?

oh, that’s right. you’re absolutely terrified.

you aren’t too great at expressing yourself, so simply sharing this with mj is a challenge.

“because i don’t know how to tell him!” you whine, sliding down in the booth dramatically. mj kicks your leg under the table. “what’s the difference? at least he’s into all this mushy shit. i’m not.” you glare up at her. “yeah, but is he into me?”

peter gasps, earning looks from other customers on the line. his face burns bright red for a multitude of reasons.

you like him back? you like him back?

“ask him,” mj grumbles and takes another swig of lemonade. she’s reached her limit of peter discourse for the day. “are you insane? i could never!” you reject her suggestion. “when am i even supposed to-“ mj’s eyes widen, fixed on something behind you. “right now.”

confused, you frown. “what? like, over text? i dunno… you’ve had better ideas.”

mj shakes her head and points forward. you turn around to follow her gesture, your jaw immediately dropping.

surely enough, peter is making his way over to your table. he’s looking cuter than ever in his midtown hoodie with a blush coating his cheeks.

how the hell…

“peter? what’re you doing here?” you squeak, popping up in your seat. his lips press into a small smile. “hey, y/n. mj. just picking up dinner.” he glances between you and mj as he scratches at his gelled curls. “small world, right?” mj lets out a sigh. “a little too small for my liking. i’m gonna bounce.”

she raises her eyebrows at you, a clear signal that you choose to ignore.

“where are you going?” you speak, teeth gritted. already getting up from the table, mj mumbles her response. “bathroom. all that lemonade went straight through me.”

she makes a point to bump peter’s shoulder before she leaves, peter gulping.

the two of them share an unspoken agreement. peter needs to confess his feelings, and he better not screw up.

you mutter a few choice words under your breath when mj takes off. peter makes out some of them, chuckling lightly and sitting in her former seat. his heart is beating alarmingly quick. yours is somehow faster.

“so, uh…” peter licks his lips and rolls up his hoodie sleeves. “the food here any good?” you purse your own lips. “it’s alright. i wanted to go to delmar’s, but it was mj’s turn to pick.” peter’s grin widens. he’d been the one who introduced you to delmar’s bodega.

peter shrugs a shoulder. “well, i don’t blame you. you know what they say.” “best sandwiches in queens,” you two chime in unison, each giggling at the other. his cheeks flush once again. you bite back a smile, your knee accidentally brushing against his.

although you hastily back away and apologize, peter welcomes it. he moves in closer so both your knees are touching now.

oh.

“i was wondering, and only if you’re up for it of course… could i take you tomorrow?” peter asks, voice soft. he gives you his infamous puppy eyes. you meet them with shock in yours. “to delmar’s? like… like on a-“ “a date, yeah,” he clarifies and nods vigorously for emphasis.

his hand finds yours on the table, both your fingers lacing together and peter beaming at you.

“i like you, y/n. think it’s time i did something about it,” he finally admits. you nearly collapse on the spot as peter’s thumb runs along the back of your hand. “i like you, too. way more than you know,” you breathe out a quiet laugh. “it’s weird, i was just debating with mj whether i should tell you.”

oblivious to the fact that peter heard everything, you squeeze his hand tighter. the tips of his ears turn a deep shade of pink.

he’s got a lot to tell you.

[xirenex]

Cosmopolitan Pt.2

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

Group: Ateez

Member: Jung Wooyoung

Word count: 4.901

jung wooyoung x fem!reader - arranged marriage

Part genre: Suggestive

taglist: @lovesonglovernana​ @raysanshine @do-you-actually-care @httpfandxms

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

“If my memory serves me right, I told you to choose a navy blue tie, haven’t I?”

You sighed as your fiancé made his entrance to your office without a care to your protest. You thanked your assistant with your head who was fixing your black jacket. Hongjoong had been working with you ever since you took over your job and was your biggest source of help. He took care of you and your personal life since you had tendency to lose control over it sometimes. To be honest, he was also like a big brother: which was why he chuckled as the one he called “the problem child” was unable to fulfill the only task he was given. He had won the bet you had. 

“You owe me a meal.”

Your secretary saluted you before leaving the office to give you two some privacy. You sighed as Wooyoung got comfortable on the single couch in front of your big glass desk. He was cladded in a beige and white suit with two of his buttons open to reveal the tip of his collarbones. He was supposed to match your navy blue dress-shirt with his tie. However, it seemed he had plans of his own. Today was supposed to be the day of the press conference where your companies announced your engagement and the color-matching was a necessity in your opinion since you seemed nowhere to be in love. 

He checked the clock on his wrist. You two still had fifteen minutes until it was time to do the announcement that would signal the end of your independent life. 

“I won’t apologize, darling since I got us something better.”

Deciding to ignore his words, you approached him from the back of the desk after getting a box from the drawer next to the library. As you got closer, his distraction went to your perfectly round butt covered tightly by your skirt. It wasn’t long or as tight but you were working out enough to be the way you felt proud yourself since the breaks in your schedule as short like the dresses worn by your fiancé’s past lovers seen at parties. Wooyoung found his eyes lingering on you, well on your curves, meaninglessly for a second before collecting himself. He knew you wouldn’t give into the temptation: not in your personal life or sexual one. A background check was made way before you had come to an agreement in that restaurant. You were the perfect leash that his parents would have the ability to control him with. Your image was so important that your dignity wouldn’t approve to hear the gossip created by your husband. The society would blame and try to control you even if you didn’t even care if something had happened to him on normal conditions. To add up to the equation, he would never settle down, let alone with a workaholic woman who was evidently programmed to avoid relationships while there were many other people hoping to be an assistance to his needs and desires. Despite the regretful situation at hand, he decided to regard it as a challenge. At least he thrived for them and now, you were his new possible entertainment, not to mention you two were stuck with each other in the South Korea’s borders. Just when you were pulling out the tie out of its box, he swiftly pulled you so that you found yourself sitting on his lap with his arm supporting you from the waist. Momentarily your eyes grew from the action of falling but you came back to your senses just as fast without him realizing the change. Your voice came out bored. 

“If this is the ‘something better’ you are talking about: I hate to break it to you but I’m not interested.”

As if not even a least bothered by his actions, just to avoid him getting more enthusiastic, you insisted on making him put the tie on while still sitting on his lap with an unchanged expression. This time, he was the one whose eyes grew. You never ceased to do the unexpected. Wooyoung initially thought you would despise the contact and shove him off but there you were, calmly sitting on his muscular thighs insisting on the navy blue cloth and not even showing a sign of blush. However, he was never the one to refuse a good provocation. 

“You tie it.”

You scoffed at his order but seeing no sign of giving up from the way he looked at you with a smirk on his face, your hands got into the work, pulling your face closer to his in the process. You locked your eyes with his as if it was a challenge while your hands busied themselves with the high-quality fabric. His lips were a breath away from yours although no one leaned in for a kiss. Just then, he thought the thing possibly more amusing than the current situation would be doing the thing himself- that you probably thought was the thing he expected you to. In your mind, you knew he wanted to feed his ego by witnessing your hunger for his body. You were sure this was just a provocation for you to either shy away or to give in: he was just testing you if you would be a good toy for him. However, Wooyoung wanted to see you stagger. He smoothly leaned in and connected your lips just when you finished your work with his tie. While you were trying to get your series of thoughts in order, he pushed his tongue in your mouth and grabbed the back of your neck to pull you closer. Amazed, you froze as his tongue tasted your palate. The more deeper he got, the more you felt his hold on you tightened. It took you a minute to realize your position until you pushed his shoulders aggressively, finally stepping back on your feet. 

“It’s done.”

As you were trying to hide the blush on your face, you turned your face to your purse and searched for something… anything. 

“I guess this is supposed to be my leash?”

When you turned back to him upon his words about his tie, still trying to adapt into the situation, you recognized he was sitting just like nothing happened. Instead of waiting for an answer, he pointed to his own lips to give you the remark that your lipstick was smudged and was waiting to get fixed. After you turned around to see it for yourself in the mirror, he touched his own lips to see if there was color stain on it. Contrary to his calm appearance, his mind was going crazy. He liked kissing you. No, he loved it so much that it scared the hell out of him. Also, the sight of you with a slight redness on your defined cheeks didn’t help at all. He had found his new prey: a pretty rare one at that. A one that was surely out of his reach even if you would be bound to him on the paper. While you were busy with your make up, he silently approached you from the back and whispered in your ear. Thankfully, you saw him coming closer so you could avoid reacting dramatically.

“Then, let me present you your own collar.” 

His hands gently found yours and the presence of a cold metal surrounded your ring finger of your right hand. You tilted your head upwards to a smirking Wooyoung. You hated the idea of wearing HIS ring but no complaint left your mouth since it worked as a show. 

He is unbelievable, you thought.

“You are an idiot, you know that right?”

The ring looked like two separate thin bands one being in the form of ivy as diamonds filled the place of the leafs and the other one looked like a classic engagement ring. It was simple yet elegant. You had always hated the idea of a big accessory since you also had to attend your work so it suited your tastes well. However, there was no need for him to know that he gained your approval. He chuckled and gave you some personal space before settling back down on the couch. 

“If you say so…”

—————————

The flashlights surrounded your figure as you ascended the stage with Wooyoung’s hand supporting you from the small of your back. You inadvertently thought there was no need for this kind of physical show, especially after having a taste of his lips but you formed no protest since cameras were watching your every move. Alongside tabloids, representatives of your business partners and your families were also present, except for one person from his side. After sitting on the chair that was prepared for you two beforehand, you leaned sideways to ask the question to Wooyoung while showing your most dignified smile to the cameras.

“He’s not here?”

Of course Wooyoung understood well who you were talking about. Nevertheless, he chose to stay silent. He and his adopted brother Choi Yeonjun had an estranged relationship whom you also had a major crush on during your high school years and briefly faked dating with. He was your first fake boyfriend that gave way for the rest. With you tying the knot to Wooyoung, his brother would be guaranteeing his place not in the spotlight but in some secondary job in the company. While you were busy with his questionable absence, your father took the microphone to personally make the announcement everyone was waiting for. 

“I feel utmost happiness while giving you the news that our Y/N  made her first move into forming her own family. I am genuinely grateful to have a son-in-law like Wooyoung.”

You smiled bitterly while your father went on with his speech that hinted his good parenting skills. You were sure that he was aware of Wooyoung’s reputation despite his expressiveness of positive emotions but oh well… what can’t one withstand to make a profit? While the talk went on the background with the journalists focusing on your father, Wooyoung answered your thoughts vaguely.

“He’s probably at home drinking his sorrows away.”

A smirk could be seen faintly in your fiancé’s face. You shrugged off his weird sense of accomplishment and looked forward. You would never know the real reason Yeonjun would be devastated, only thinking of him losing power as a reason. Also, you had no opportunity to lurk on your old crush’s emotions as it was your turn to take the mic and answer the questions. Both of you did well answering the journalists regarding both the collaborations of the two companies and the merging of the families. However, when a voice from the back of the room questioned how could the two of you had decided to go steady when just a week ago Wooyoung was seen with a famous model in the industry your mind went black. Your relationship didn’t have a back story which was truthfully an amateur mistake on your side. However, unlike you, your fiancé held your hand on the table confidently while at the same time making eye-contact with you, his being narrowed. He was making your anxiousness seem as a fit of jealousy. Wooyoung brushed his nose with his free thumb and acted as if he had enough with these kinds of rumors. However, you knew he was actually annoyed since you had heard from Hongjoong prior to your arrangement that he wasn’t the one to have enough toleration with those who tried to dig out the details.

“Well, first of all, I admit that I have made mistakes in the past and that my record is far from being pure white.”

He gave a pause to give a look at you to give you a nod to which you responded the same way, portraying a couple who had talked to go through these kind of accusations beforehand. You smiled assuringly while from the inside you were acknowledging his ability to adapt into situations once more.

“However, I will not accept this kind of closed statements not only for now but also for the future. I don’t remember giving anyone the right to mess with my beloved fiancée’s feelings in such a way.”

You gave a good amount of effort into holding back your laughter upon hearing the word “beloved.” On the other hand, Wooyoung continued his speech calmly.

“Although I think this has nothing to do with the reason we have assembled for, I will put under the light these kinds of issues also for the future reference: Miss Kim Yeong-Hee, the lady that you were talking about will be the first contracted model for the agency that will be under my jurisdiction.”

This was news to you, too. You had never thought Wooyoung would step up and do actual work for a financial profit. Unlike you, his parents seemed to know about this investment of their son. With him dodging the scandal away, the conference continued as planned.

—————————

While the supposedly undercover cameras were filming enough footage for a week of you and Jung Wooyoung, your fiancé leaned down to give you a hug in front of the gates to the airport.

“Please prevent your lust to show any kind of physical affection to your flings when you sense a camera around.”

That was your only wish from him upon his flight to Milan. As promised, he was on his way far away from your territory where you would require no need to play the couple. After the press conference, you had learned that the modeling agency would also help him evade any front page stories of the magazines so all he had to do was to not let anyone see him kissing or groping anyone other than you… which was something you definitely wanted to avoid. 

“I can promise that.”

A smile appeared on his face mocking the way in which untrusting you were of him. He had the pretext of fashion week to find more people for the agency in order to leave the country just after the announcement where people would be expecting you to appear as a couple.

“Oh!”

The voice escaped your lips as you remembered something you had brought with you. He let you slip away from his embrace but didn’t consider it necessary to step away. Your hands searched through your bag until you’ve found what you prepared beforehand. Wooyoung’s eyes grew before he laughed until tears fell from his eyes. 

“Please make sure to use these. I don’t want anyone knocking on my door later on.”

There, you held out a lot of condoms to him of a size you learned from an ex of his. When you asked her of it and she turned into a pale shade of red, you nearly mistook her of suffocating. Wooyoung took a glance at them and accepted your “present.”

“If it were a couple of years ago, we could’ve used them together in your regular hotel room.”

You over-exaggeratingly sighed while holding your chest with a hand.

“Thank god I left the industry years ago, then.”

Before you took your first step into the family business, you used to work as a model but it only served as a good memory and your previous fame followed you as the paparazzis appeared out of nowhere. Wooyoung had found it a pity when you announced your retirement from the runway all those years ago. You had real talent in his eyes to the extent that he had never tried approaching you and ruin your career with rumors. 

That was how funny the thing called “fate” was - with him now having the person he previously considered a jewel with a shiny jewel occupying her ring finger… now only as people with the same goal. His hands found their place on your waist to which your brows momentarily twitched.

“Be a good girl and find a way to break it all off before I find a way to fuck you, darling.”

You chuckled and reached the nape of his neck, your other hand pulling the bleached part of his hair harshly. This gesture would easily be mistaken as a show of affection if the cameras caught on his momentarily painful expression. 

“I’ll start looking into it tomorrow. I’ll attend Lia’s party today.”

Lia was one of your friends from the inner circle which you made acquaintance from your modeling days. She was a famous actress who also had connections to your company. To your announcement of attendance, Wooyoung made an expression of uneasiness which you missed between your thoughts of the preparation that had yet to be done. Therefore, without realizing the change of emotions in your fiancé, you let him go and pushed him forward. 

“Go now and don’t return until I call for you.”

Then, you watched him disappear behind the doors while waving to each other, giving a couple of good shots for the people dying for a slip up. 

—————————

You tried covering yourself up once more before entering the grand party hall. The dress was chosen by one of the other girls in the group since you couldn’t find the time to go shopping but the V-line was a lot deeper than your taste. Inside, you’ve found hard to believe how could your friend could have this much RSVPs in a short amount of time. Unlike the high number of people filling all around, it didn’t feel suffocating thanks to the high ceiling that was full with countless modern type chandeliers. You’ve stopped thinking they were useless a long time ago since the venue was close to being pitch dark. The party was planned under the pretext of Lia’s new movie but suspiciously, your other best friend from the group was the one who came up with the idea. 

“Hey, love!”

The mastermind, Eun-bin called you to the table just across the bar and behind the dancing area. It was honestly strange for someone who preferred small gatherings would be okay with planning such a big scale event just after she had finished hosting one a week ago. A second after you got seated next to your friends, Eun-bin took a hold of your hand and shrieked upon inspecting the delicate design of your ring as much as she could under the dimmed lights. Lia simply scoffed and threw an over-exaggerated congratulations to your side.

“To your little personal leash!”

As a woman who was secretly in an established polyamorous relationship, she was proud of not being closed to getting married soon. You simply narrowed your eyes and called for a waiter to bring you your dress. 

“I personally think it was time. You couldn’t keep up with fake boyfriends for longer.”

Eun-bin took a big sip from her drink and leaned back in her seat, leaning on Lia. Her neckline was deeper than yours, leaving a lot more in the open. Unlike your long and black dress with shiny straps, hers was a short burgundy. While fixing her knee-high boots, she continued her agreement with your choice.

“People had already gossiping that we were in a relationship but you were trying to hide it away with other men. You couldn’t fake the role of a lovely girlfriend for longer, wifey.”

Since she was also in a similar situation with her company pushing marriage candidates in front of her, Eun-bin was the only one who was siding with you tying the knot. At least that was what you had been told by her. To add to the equation, the rumors surrounding your group of friends weren’t surprising to the ears saying that four of you were actually romantically and sexually involved with each other. While you had your own suspicions about Lia and Eun-bin since they were unusually comfortable with each other physically, at least you were sure of your own sexual preferences being towards the opposite sex. However, being always around them and Eun-bin calling you your pet name no matter where you were didn’t give you the credibility for it.

When your thoughts finalized, you realized a person missing from the table. Dori, the baby of your infamous group appeared with her iconic buns on her head and literally screamed when she saw you with a dress you would NEVER wear. Her pitch was so high that even the party goers who were at a closer vicinity glanced at your table.

“So you had to get engaged for us to see you in such masterpiece?”

She was a world-known designer who had nearly gave her life trying to get you to model for her after your retirement to no avail. The design of your dress also belonged to her. You shrugged, understanding fully now that your dress was chosen under an agreement between Eun-bin and Dori before sliding in on the round shaped sofa to open a seat for her and let her arms slide around you for a second before she reached her skinship rate for the day. 

“I thought you ditched us. You’re late.”

Eun-bin grumbled as usual while Lia leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek. You chuckled when her pout became more obvious each second until she finished her drink upon seeing you let Dori hug you. She had continuously asked for the same amount of touchyness from you to only get a “no” saying that you were attracting enough rumors. You dissipated the argument before it started.

“Just get used to it, she takes longer to get ready.”

Eunbin put her tongue out but stopped her grumbles. Then, the topic changed when Lia pulled the attention to the latest gossip in the entertainment circles.

“You know that I’ll be co-starring Kim Jung-hoon, right?”

The man in question was Eunbin’s actor crush, thus, you thought was the reason of the party. However, creating a contrast to your thoughts, Eun-bin seemed distracted with her drink. After a while of toleration, you tried to get the girls to dance a little to no avail. Even if you consumed no amount of alcohol, you felt more at ease in places like this. Unlike your eagerness to have fun and forget the pain in your ass who was now in Milan, the mood somehow felt down in your eyes. 

“What’s wrong with her?”

You nudged Dori with your elbow and asked about the host of the party. Her eyes followed yours and vocalized your question to your friend.

“I think I’m getting drunk.”

Was the answer you received but it didn’t seem like the truth considering she had always been the happiest drunk in the group. Although it bugged you a little, you didn’t press forward with the issue. As your waiter came with your so-called drink and an nth round for the others, Lia noticed the newcomers to the party.

“Were they invited?”

Seeing the ones mentioned, Eun-bin pulled herself forward from Lia’s embrace and took a big sip from her drink. Seonghwa, San, Yeosang, Mingi and Jongho entered the venue first. After getting a drink from a waitress walking around, Seonghwa raised a glass towards your table and lead the group to their respective places. You nearly spilled your drink upon realizing the group that followed them.

“I may have reached out to Mingi and told them about it.”

Choi Yeonjun. 

Your high school crush and brother-in-law entered the venue in his shiny dark purple jacket and made eye contact with you before getting seated in the booth next to Seonghwa’s with his friends. 

“And Yeosang might have mentioned it to Yeonjun.”

No sane venue owner would reject these people even if they weren’t invited-which was also the case for your group. People your age would use their every connection and unimaginable resources in order get in to the parties these three groups hosted, hoping to gain some connections or at least get a glimpse of you. While you were busy throwing blades from your eyes to Dori who was seated next to you, you missed the other figure who followed his friends from a bit behind and got comfortable next to Seonghwa.

It wasn’t hard to come to the conclusion that it would be a necessity for you to avoid Yeonjun considering your past which every single being in this booth was familiar with. Especially since you were now engaged. A slip of behavior… and you would fill the headlines next day. Although your mind was filled with thoughts about how you should avoid Yeonjun as much as possible to the point that you were getting a headache, Lia thought your lost consciousness was an advantage to the youngest considering the possible murder in the venue if you were to see the man who had his eyes on you.

“I have to use the restroom.”

Eun-bin stood up from her place and got out of the booth with your assistance. The observer that she was, Dori realized the number of people decreased on Hongjoong’s table by two. She internalized the thought of following Eun-bin out of here upon suspecting the danger that was getting closer.

“Should I come with you?”

You were still on your feet when you reached your hand to the small of her back. Your memory consisted enough knowledge to know that the amount of drinks she shad in the last fifteen minutes was enough to make her tipsy and her high heeled boots didn’t seem reliable enough to get your clumsy friend downstairs. She turned her head back to you after her eyes got a glimpse of the figure who was walking towards your table.

“I think your problems are bigger than me walking straight, love. I will manage.”

You directed your attention to her remark before stumbling in your place to see your fiancé a step away from you. Eun-bin disappeared from your sight after giving Wooyoung a slight nod before you had a chance to collect yourself. Unlike you, she maintained a good reationship with the trouble maker. Your infamous lover went straight in for a kiss and a gasp raised from your friends in the back. His hands grabbed your waist, pinching a little to get you to respond to him. While your mind was telling you to go along with it for the show, your every nerve was screaming, fully aware that only a kiss was enough to get you instinctual. You let his tongue in by parting your lips. While the hand pinching your waist released its hold on you, his tongue brushed your palate which elicited a moan from the back of your throat. A while later, he parted from you after biting your bottom lip before you could even respond. Lia’s cry from behind pulled you back to reality.

“There’s no need to stop. You could film a porn right then and there.”

Her grumbles woke no shame from your fiancé, on the contrary he chuckled while stepping back and checked for your lipstick on his lips. The two were the main reason the two groups never stood next to each other. At some point, their bickering would always end in a physical fight.

“I’ve seen you do worse, Lia. Your boyfriends-“

“Okay. Stop.”

Your friend was no match for him in public since Wooyoung didn’t have any brakes to his explicit talks. Of course, you chuckled thinking that HE would know the boyfriends she tried so hard keeping a secret. You snapped your head up leaving the scolding for your friend later and held his gaze with a fake smile on your face.

“Why the hell aren’t you in Milan?”

His hand reached your cheeks and caressed just under your eye.

“I heard there was a party.”

And my fiancé would be attending it.

The following sentence didn’t reach you. Now that you could see it, he was wearing a suit without anything inside. The only thing that covered his surely well built torso was a couple of buttons. Well, it was safe to say that his V-line was more revealing than yours with a chain adorning his neck. As the couple of the hour, you could feel the eyes of the attendants on you. 

“That is exactly why you should’ve been away.”

You insisted and took your drink from the table to take a sip from it. Instead of answering, he shrugged and took the drink from your hand and finished the whole thing before you had a chance to.

“Jung Wooyoung!”

Your voice carried a certain danger to it. He was being a child and you weren’t in the mood to play with him.

“Trust me, baby.”

He assured you with a gentle voice before putting the glass back on the table and leaving you with your friends for his own. While you got yourself seated with a sigh, Dori took your glass in suspicion and smelled the content. Considering her good relationship with Mingi and Jongho, she was the only one who was left out when it came to your fiancé’s reputation and playful personality. 

“Y/N?”

Her eyes were grown with worry. 

“Your drink reeks of alcohol.”

Someone had tried to jinx your drink.

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

<— Previous Chapter

Next Chapter —>

[the-type-a]

More kb5 hc pls!! Maybe about their time on Playa Des Losers!!

Of course!

- so Courtney is the first of the kb5 to arrive. She makes sure she keeps up with the eliminations just in case of of the remaining kb5 are voted off.

- when Bridgette gets voted off Courtney is the first one on the dock waiting for her to come down.

- I’m not sure how the rooms are set up but I’d like to think they get a choice of what floor they want to be on. So Courtney and Bridgette’s rooms are right next door to each other.

- once Bridgette finds out Harold was the reason Courtney was voted off she’s pissed. Harold is obviously terrified because Courtney and Bridgette are a dynamic duo.

- Bridgette just ignores him and she and Courtney decided not to tell DJ, Geoff, or Duncan because they would probably severely hurt him.

- they get a few days to themselves and they take advantage of the luxuries they have now.

- a dip in the pool, a trip to the spa, endless days in the shade.

- when DJ is voted off he’s greeted by the girls, of course!

- they catch him up on everything going on in their world and he tells them what’s been going on with Geoff and Duncan back on the island.

- DJ tells Bridgette just how sorry Geoff is about her being voted off. Then tells Courtney about all the confessions/shut outs Duncan keeps giving her.

- whenever DJ has to do something he asked the girls to watch bunny for him.

- when Geoff is bored off the three of them welcome him and now are desperately rooting for Duncan.

- Geoff and Bridgette click automatically now.

- let’s forget about how they only make out now and actually let them keep their personalities.

- Geoff and Bridgette obviously have their alone time but they still hang out with DJ and Courtney, just like back on the island.

- Geoff wants to plan a party with everyone who’s there and it turns out to be fun.

- unfortunately, when they see Duncan is voted off they make their way over to the dock.

- Duncan is so tired from his challenge that he doesn’t even notice where he’s at.

- he hears Courtney’s voice and thinks he’s dreaming but when chef basically kicks him off the boat he sees all of them there.

- even though Courtney’s pissed about Duncan letting Heather cuddle him she still runs up and hugs him.

- the guys are so excited that he’s there so they can continue their pranks and such.

- Bridgette is excited for Courtney because she talks about Duncan nonstop without realizing it.

- Duncan and Courtney have their little moments but for the most part they stay with the group.

- Duncan sneaks around at night to pull some pranks and sometimes knocks on Courtney’s door. Even though he won’t admit it, he hasn’t had a good nights rest ever since he woke up to her cuddling him.

- the kb5 definitely spend every meal together. It’s like a tradition at this point.

- they mostly stay in the lounge area and watch movies, sometimes they’ll decide to sneak outside after the polls closed for a late night swim.

- the guys are still curious about Courtney’s elimination and think it’s weird that the girls are dodging their questions.

- Duncan eventually finds out but by the time any of the guys are able to do anything it’s the last day.

- this is why we see Duncan picking on Harold a lot more in action.

- when Courtney doesn’t make it to the second season everyone’s pissed.

- they encourage her to seek legal action as she was never given a fair shot in the first season.

[sluttyten]

craving you like the devil craves heaven

summary: you’re a succubus (a female demon that seduces men to death) and you task yourself with seducing someone difficult. enter mark lee, a priest with a vow of celibacy that he’s already struggling with. you think you’ll have some fun. (based off this message from an anon)

length: 8,622

warnings: religious themes, sacrilegious, corruption, demons, priests, oral sex, masturbation, sex

As a newly-made succubus, you wanted to impress your peers and superiors, and therefore decided to challenge yourself by making your first time special and big.

“A priest?” Your direct superior shook her head in disbelief. “Most would start with a regular mortal who is much, much more likely to succumb to sin. Are you sure you want to commit to seducing a priest? You realize they swear to be celibate, and typically they’re committed to destroying demons like you and I?”

You do realize all of those things, but you’re sure if you find the right one you can do it. Not all priests are perfectly perfect and holy.

All it took was a little bit of divine intervention (or rather you intervening in the divine), tapping into that holy line of mortal prayers. A little eavesdropping, careful listening, and at last you plucked the correct line, listening to the reverberating prayers of a holy man dealing with such sinful thoughts, praying for help in remaining faithful to the vows of the priesthood.

It was night in this place where the young priest was. Cool and dark, the air was damp and would surely make you shiver if you were mortal, but the cold didn’t affect a demon like you, nor did the mist as it clung to your eyelashes and the strands of your hair. You stood across the street from the rectory, standing in the shadow of a doorway, gazing up at the faint golden light of a window on the second floor of the holy man’s house.

You could still hear a whisper of his prayers.

“Lord, it’s me, Mark, your servant. I pray you give me the strength to resist these desires, the sinful thoughts.” He prays, and you can almost picture him kneeling with his hands folded before him, head bowed, and lips moving slightly as he repeats the words of Latin prayers.

You decide to study him.

That night you stand there on the street and watch the house, listening to his dreams, and catching glimpses of his neighbors’ dreams, as well as the other two priests who share the home with Mark. And in the morning you shift yourself to match the wall behind you, to continue your observations as the young priest rises and dresses and walks down the street to the church. You watch as he passes through the cemetery tucked behind the church, and he pauses at some of the headstones to straighten flowers or offer a prayer, and then he enters through a side door, and you stand outside, waiting.

Several hours later a crowd begins to arrive, passing inside through the large, ornate front doors, and soon after music swells, voices rise, and you hear the chanting of prayers upon prayers. You watch as Mark emerges from the church among his parishioners, as he smiles and talks and shakes hands with them.

You take special note of the way that his eyes repeatedly flick toward another human, near the same age as himself. You notice the way his eyes follow their movements, how he smiles when they meet his eye.

Ah, this one. That one is the source of the young priest’s sinful thoughts.

You observe as the crowd thins, disappearing from the front steps of the church until it is only the priest speaking to a mother and her toddler that keeps tugging on her hand and crying, and Mark tries his best to pay full attention to her, but the lovely human who has attracted his notice stands a few feet away, holding a folder in their hands.

Eventually as the bell tower above the church chimes the hour, Mark excuses himself from the mother, stating that he has an appointment to get to, and you watch with renewed interest as he leaves the mother and beckons the nervous-looking folder-wielding individual to step back into the church with him.

They pass through the nave of the church—their footsteps echoing up to the vaulted ceiling, through all the empty pews—and bow at the altar before stepping around to the side, and passing through a doorway tucked behind a statue of a saint. They shut themselves away in the priest’s office, and you listen eavesdrop from your hiding place across from the church, a safe distance from all the blessed holiness that would try to keep you out.

You can’t quite hear Mark’s thoughts, but bear enough to it, sensing the fluctuations in his emotions as the parishioner shows him the divorce file, and pleads with him to help them resolve the issues in their marriage to their spouse in a way that won’t end like this.

You can feel Mark’s tension, the conflict within himself. It’s his duty to help. But the desire he feels for this person sitting across from him.... it’s sinful, it goes against his vows.

That night you watch him walk back to the rectory after another mass, several meetings, a meal at the home of one of his parishioner’s. You listen as he prepares himself for bed, as he prays once more for the strength to get passed this way he feels because he knows it’s not right in the eyes of the church and God.

And that night, after Mark’s window has at last gone dark, after he’s fallen into dreams, you decide that your time for first contact has come.

Mark’s dreams are easy to intrude upon. The boundaries upon the rectory, blessed though they may be, are old and worn and leave several gaping holes for you to slip through and into his mind.

What you’re doing isn’t possession. That’s not in your repertoire.

In his dream, you take the form of Mark’s desire. You form the dream into what you require, setting up the scene as being back in his office, that desk between him and you, the future-divorcée’s file open on the desk.

Mark doesn’t notice a thing, he just slips right from his normal dreams into this one, picking up his lines without a skip.

“....and pray to the Lord. You and Alex can get through this. Counseling and prayer works miracles.” Mark says, and just as he’d done earlier in the day, he reaches across the desk and takes the hand sitting there atop the file.

Unlike earlier though, you’re in control of this dream. You’d felt Mark’s mind buzzing when his hand came in contact with the hand of his secret desire, so you turn that to your benefit now, making your first changes.

“I know it’s wrong,” you say in the voice of the divorcee, “But sometimes I think there’s no use saving the marriage. Alex feels one way about it, and I can understand that. Alex could fall in love with someone else and be happier and I want that for my spouse, of course I do. And if I could fall in love too....” Your look up at Mark sitting across from you, his hand still on yours, and the look on your face is one that you put as much want and lust into as you can.

Mark gulps. His fingers twitch against your hand. “Sometimes people fall in love with someone else. A peaceful resolution to a marriage, the dissolvement, annulment.... that can happen and both parties can remarry happily.”

He’s trying so hard, the poor thing. One look into his eyes and you can see the nervousness and excitement, the way his mind is rushing at this news that the person sitting before him might want to look for new love.

“Sometimes the person that we’re meant to be with is actually right in front of us.” You say.

Mark nods, swallows again. You test the waters, stroke your thumb over the back of his hand.

He jolts in his seat and stands, rubbing a hand over the top of his head as he paces over to a water disperser in the corner of the office, and he fills a small paper cup for himself, gulps it down. And you take this as your next opportunity to try to twist this dream to your advantage.

“Father Lee,” you step closer and closer, coming up right behind him.

His hand shakes as he fills the cup again, but before he can quite lift it to his lips, you curl your hand against his, and take the cup, bringing it to your lips and draining it while you look at him. He watches with his lips parted, eyes wide. Mark drinks too—drinks in every detail of you wearing his desire’s face and putting your lips where his had just been. You can hear his adorable thoughts—the innocent rush he gets from thinking that’s like an indirect kiss.

Things are moving too slow now, you can tell that even in a dream, even when you’re offering everything up for him to make the move, Mark won’t take the opportunity. He’s trying too hard to hold back, and you just want to seduce him.

So you push things ahead just a little bit, rearrange the dream to your liking, which is you sitting on the edge of the desk, leaning back on your hands with Mark’s hands on you. He’s got one hand tangled in your hair, the other on your waist, and the overwhelming sexual frustration you taste on his tongue as he kisses you is so fucking sweet.

Mark murmurs your name.

Well, not your name. But the name that belongs with this face. You press closer, kissing him back to make him shut up, to keep him distracted and enchanted by the lust of the dream.

But perhaps doing that pushes it too far.

Mark breaks away, gasping, “No, wait. I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Irritation flashes through you, and for a split second your true self shines through.

Mark’s eyes widen and he gasps, the whole dream fluctuates, shaking and tipping to the side, and then you’re ripped back to reality, just a monstrous succubi hiding in the space beneath his bed.

You hold still as Mark staggers to his feet. Bare feet brush across the floor, and you hear him slapping his face, pinching at his inner arms, and then you hear him murmuring prayers again.

“Father, I’m sorry for my sins. Please forgive me.” and “Father purge these demons from my mind.”

You wrap your arms around yourself under his bed and smile. You don’t plan to go anywhere.

Several more days pass and you let Mark be. You even return to Hell for a few days to update your supervisor on your progress, and while it’s not as much as you’d like, they are impressed with your target.

By the time you return to watch Mark again, he seems to have calmed down a bit from that naughty dream you’d given him. You return just in time for him to say his nighttime prayers, and once more you wait for him to fall asleep before you enter his space.

You bring yourself physically into the space—at first incorporeal, but then you manifest a tangible shape that you personally admire for all of your earthly adventures, and you settle in to do your work for the night.

Even with a real body, you’re still light as a breath of wind, so when you climb onto the bed and settle over Mark’s chest, he doesn’t stir. Nor does he do anything as you step into his dreams.

This time you observe the dreams for a moment.

You seem to be in a memory. Mark’s brother and himself when they were younger, riding bikes down a street that fades off into white nothingness at the edges, not that either of the two boys seem aware. The dream shifts naturally from that bike-ride to sitting in a car, the windows rolled down, a night breeze filling the interior and raking its fingers through Mark’s hair. There’s a girl sitting in the seat beside him, talking and smiling and dressed cute with a milkshake in one hand that she pauses her story every now-and-then to take a sip at. A girlfriend or a first love. When she reaches over and lays a casual hand on Mark’s thigh, he jumps a little. It’s close enough to what you need, so you grasp onto it and take control of the dream like you’re the one driving a car.

You wear the dream-girl’s face as easily as you’d worn the one in the last dream. You move her hand higher up his thigh.

Mark turns his head to the side with a sharp inhale, staring at you. And then you realize, startling even yourself, that he’s actually staring at you.

The dream ripples and you can feel it pulling away from you, Mark resisting your attempt to control the dream.

“Who are you?” His voice asks, but the Mark in the dream before you doesn’t move his mouth. The voice echoes and booms from all around you.

Abort. Fleeing a dream, tearing yourself from the web of his mind, abandoning your victim in a situation like this seems like the absolute most perfect idea.

But tragically, it seems impossible.

The dream closes in around you, squeezing tight as if holding you there. You grapple with Mark’s mind, and then suddenly the dream releases, Mark gasps awake, trying hard to suck in breaths against the new weight of you sitting on his chest, a succubi filled with the lust and dream-energy you’d been siphoning from him.

Before you can truly flee, dissolving back to your incorporeal form and slipping out into the free night, Mark’s hand closes around your wrist, and with a strength and agility you didn’t expect, he flips you under him, pinning your form to his bed. Trapping you between his warm body and the firm mattress.

“Who are you?” Mark hisses.

You let your true eyes shine through, hoping that the dimly glowing sulphuric color of them will frighten him into letting you go.

Instead, he reaches into his shirt and draws out a cross on a silver chain. You flinch back into the sheets as Mark asks the same question again.

“I’m here to help you.” You turn your gaze away from the cross, locking your eyes on his. “You’re so loud with your lustful thoughts, and I’m here to help you feel better, to tame your lusty sins.” You buck your hips up, pressing up against his hips.

Mark swallows hard. “I don’t know what you are or what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, so you don’t want to fuck that sexy, soon-to-be singleton you were dreaming about the other night?” You bring your hands up both of his arms until your fingertips are under the sleeves against his biceps. “Oh, Father Lee, don’t you know how sinful that is? What would your fellow priests think? What must He think?”

Mark’s jaw tightens, and he brings the cross closer to your skin. Your body tingles and burns.

“Let me up.” You tell him. He doesn’t budge. “I swear to all things evil, let me up or I’ll scream and moan, transform to look like your secret desire so when your Brothers came running in here all they’ll know is I’m moaning your name, and you’re....”

Mark moves.

“Demon.” He spits the word at you like an insult.

You sit up, fixing your hair, and you wink in his direction. “You got it.”

“Get out.”

“Hey.” You stand, raising your hands innocently. “You’re the one that summoned me here. I’m a succubus, and the amount of sexual frustration radiating off of you was too delicious to pass up.” You lean in and sniff at his neck, just to take the opportunity to make him uncomfortable because he’s cute like that. “I just want to help, to show you that you can still feel good, Mark. And anyway, is it breaking your vows if I was just trying to entice you in your dreams? It’s not real is it?”

Mark shakes his head, taking an unsteady step backwards. “Even thoughts are sins.”

You roll your eyes and sink back down onto the edge of his bed. “That’s such a modern misconception. Back in the early days of your faith, people weren’t quite so... prudish. They had sex, some even saw it as praising Him, thanking him for the goodness of it all. Some people still do, why do you think people scream His name during the throes of ecstasy?”

Mark blushes. “Stop it. I know what you’re doing.”

“I’m just trying to help.” You reply, leaning back on your hands and looking up at him. “You’re horny, I can feel that. You’re channeling all of your lust toward one unattainable person because they’re married, Mark. Not to mention, they call you Father Lee, which is very unsexy, might I add. But if you would just give in to your dreams, have a hot little dream of making out, getting down and dirty in your office, then that would give you a bit of satisfaction, right? Have a wet dream like you haven’t since you were a teenager? Or at the worst, wake up with a boner, take care of it yourself. You do jerk off still, don’t you, Father Lee?”

Mark frowns at you. “Shut up.”

“Is that a no?” You gasp, sitting up. “Seriously? But you’re still so young, you’ve got all of these hormones, this energy that you need to release. Even if you feel you can’t release it with someone else, do it yourself.”

Mark turns completely away from you then, but you can still see him reflected in the mirror across the room. “Get out.”

His tone is so dour, dark and serious, that you do get out. You flee into incorporeality, still able to observe the look on Mark’s face when he turns around a second later and sees you’re gone, can still see the shape of where you’d say on his bed. He runs his fingers through his hair, and then begins to whisper prayers to his God for forgiveness for his weakness.

You let a few more days pass before you return, scared that coming back too soon would cause too much damage. But several days, you think, gives him time to think more about what you’ve said. You do watch him though, you watch closer than you’d done before, and you see Mark clumsily try to touch himself, as if thinking about what you’d said, but he always pulls his hand away after a moment with a groan of frustration.

On the fifth night since you’d last appeared to him, Mark lingers in his office at the church, pouring over papers, notes from meetings, notices from the parish school. In the yellow half-light cast off by his desk lamp, Mark looks so much older and more tired than anyone should look at twenty-five.

“You need to do something to relax,” you tell him as you manifest right behind his seat, already rubbing at his tense shoulders.

Mark spins his chair around so quickly, he nearly falls out of it. His pupils expand with fear, his chest rising and falling with the surprised, panicked breaths you’d startled out of him.

“How are you in here?” He asks, his eyes darting around the room to the closed door and the latched windows. You know he’s thinking about how the doors of the church are locked (because he’d checked them earlier after the last service for the evening), and then you can see the switch flip in his mind as he starts thinking about how you’re a self-confessed demon currently standing on holy ground. “How are you here?”

You shrug and step around him, sitting on the edge of his desk and plucking a paper from the middle of one of the piles. “It’s easy to be here. I just feel all tingly in all the good places.” You wink at him.

Mark groans and punches the bridge of his nose. “Am I going crazy? Is that what this is? You’re a manifestation of my mental breakdown?”

“Absolutely not,” you laugh. “I’m real. See?”

You take his hand from his face and bring it down between your thighs, close enough that Mark can feel the heat radiating off your skin, but before you can actually make him touch any part of your body, Mark jerks his hand away. You sigh sadly and return your focus to the paper in your hand.

“So, marriage counseling going well for the unhappy couple?” You scan the document which is notes Mark had taken during the counseling session for his crush. “From the looks of it they have issues. The unresolvable kind. Alex just won’t put out, and your sweetheart has needs, huh? But you know all about that, don’t you, Mark?”

Mark snatches the paper out of your hands. “That’s a confidential document.”

You hold out your hand, and right before Mark’s eyes another page from his desk appears in your hand, and this time you read aloud. “When we first got married, we would have sex regularly. At least once a week, usually more.” You raise your eyes to look at Mark. He’s trying so hard not to blush; you wonder how he got through the session. The next few lines of the message are more whining about the current lack of a sex life, and then it’s gets into the sordid, juicy details that you feel certain Mark had struggled to copy down, but had done so for the specific intent of reliving the rush he felt hearing about the sex life of someone he desires.

So naturally you read that part aloud to him as well, and Mark just squirms in his seat. You look up at him and see that he’s definitely blushing, his hands folded as he stares down at them with such a forceful look of concentration, that you’re surprised they’ve not burst into flames. He’s so determined to ignore you, you can hear the prayers racing through his mind.

But when you toe off your shoes and bring a foot up into his lap, you’re amused to find a raging erection hiding there. Mark shudders as the sole of your foot caresses him. His hands untwist, and one moves to your calf, curling around it, but he doesn’t push you away. Not as you keep moving your foot over him like this. His eyelids flutter.

You don’t dare speak, just let the silence hang in the room as you rub Mark’s erection with your foot, his hand on your calf, the other clenching into a fist on the arm of his chair. His lips part, small sweet-sounding sighs falling free. His eyes close, head dropped back against the headrest of his fine leather seat, and his hips shift beneath your foot.

He looks beautiful like this, you think.

Half-lit by his lamp, blushing and glowing with list and finally-felt pleasure. Your body tingles with your own pleasure, the success of doing this.

Mark’s teeth catch his bottom lip, trapping a grunt within his lips. You press your toes to circle them at the tip of his erection, and Mark’s hips lift up, chasing the feeling, grinding against your foot. He sighs, soft moans and pretty sounds, and then at last, he whispers “oh God” and then shudders and slumps back in the chair.

You feel the wet heat beneath your heel, Mark’s cum filling his trousers.

Satisfied, you vanish before he can open his eyes.

You return the following night. This time Mark is in his room at the rectory, sitting up in bed. His eyes are closed as he leans against the wall, his bedsheets pooled in his lap, his hand resting there. He’s not touching himself, but you can tell that he’s challenging himself not to. He’s hard again, and the moment you present in the room, his eyes open as if he could feel the change in the air.

“Demon,” his eyes narrow. “What did you do to me last night?”

“Why? Did it feel good?” You smile. You don’t walk straight to his bed, though you know you’ll end up there. You walk to the closet, run your fingers over the hangers, you skim your fingers through the dust gathering on the books lining the shelf on his wall.

When Mark clears his throat, it’s then that you finally look at him. “Why are you here?”

“Because you need me.” You nod at his lap, wave your hand in a long gesture at his whole body. “I’m telling you, Mark, the energy coming off of you, it’s a wonder you don’t draw every succubus in Hell to come seduce you, drinking up all this juice you’ve got, I’ve never been so full.”

Mark’s eyes flash darkly, his eyes stuck on your face. “Well you had your fill last night right? I can’t believe.... I’ve prayed to the Lord for forgiveness so many times since last night I went to confession earlier today.”

“Oh did you?” A burst of excitement goes through you, and you hurry to sit on his bed, taking up his hand. “What did you tell them about me?”

Mark shakes your hand off. “I didn’t mention you. Why would I? They’d either think I’m losing my mind, which I’m still not convinced that I’m not, or they’d think that I’m just breaking my vows and having sex with someone. I just confessed that I lost my battle against lust and took care of myself.”

You tut at him disapprovingly, shaking your head as you say, “Lying in confession? Isn’t that an oxymoron? And a sin?”

Mark’s hands clench at the sheets. “I wasn’t lying really. Not if I believe that you’re a figment of my cracking mind.”

You smirk, and when you lean closer and lay a fingertip on Mark’s cheek, tracing along his cheekbone and then dropping to outline his lips, you whisper, “And do you believe that? Truly? That I’m just a figment of your imagination?”

“I don’t know what I believe,” Mark whispers hoarsely. “I don’t know if it’s better to think I’m doing this to myself or that there’s a demon taunting me.”

“Maybe I’m actually an angel in disguise, sent in answer to your prayers.” You shift onto your knees, and lean close to Mark’s face. You hold just an inch away from his lips. He goes almost cross-eyed trying to keep looking at you. “In which case, you should take advantage of this opportunity, no? Let me help you, enjoy it.”

Mark pulls his head back, closing his eyes tight as he drops his head back gently against the wall. “This is a sin. I’m a priest, I can’t be doing this.”

You roll your eyes and move.

Mark peers curiously, and almost fearfully, through a cracked eyelid when he feels your weight leave the bed. But a split second later you’ce settled completely in his lap. He goes stiff, murmuring prayers under his breath as well as something that sounds suspiciously like some sort of chant to banish you.

You stay firmly in your spot. “Why did you become a priest, Mark?”

Your question catches him off guard. His prayers cut off and he opens his eyes, looking directly at you. “What? Because I was called. I heard His voice calling me.”

“When?”

“The first time I was young. Fifteen, I think.” He looks up at the ceiling, remembering. “Again when I was eighteen. I entered the seminary at nineteen, studied until I was twenty three, when I became a deacon, and then I was ordained earlier this year. At twenty five.”

You shift your weight. “And you never doubted it? That this was what you wanted to do? That you wanted to swear yourself to celibacy? Never have sex, never allow yourself to experience pleasure? Tell me, Mark, are you a virgin?”

Mark’s blush returns, flooding his face with heat. “Why do you care?”

“Have you ever been touched by another person?” He stays silent, and you think about what you’ve observed in him. You think about him clumsily touching himself before giving up, about how easily he’d fallen apart under your touch the night before. “Have you ever touched yourself, Mark?”

You can feel how hard his heart pounds now, and in each loud beat you hear your answer.

“Cute. Little virginal priest.” You put your hands on either of his cheeks, turning his face so he has no choice but to look right at you. “Was last night your first orgasm?”

Mark breathes through his nose, holding your gaze, trying to steady his racing heart and mind. “Can you stop.”

“But aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to feel it again?” You drop your hands from his face. “I can give that to you again. I can make you feel even better, actually. If you let me, Mark, I can open up a whole new world to you.”

When his eyes close you can tell that he’s thinking about how to banish you, to send you back to hell. You find that very attractive, particularly when a muscle in his jaw flexes.

“Mark,” you whisper, and you lift a gentle hand to his neck, tracing a finger along a vein that stands out there. “Mark, what if I’m just a figment of your imagination? It’s not wrong then, is it? To want to feel good like you did last night? I can give that to you again, I can make you feel better. Just tell me yes.”

The silence buzzes in the room as you wait for him to speak or do anything.

“Yes,” Mark’s voice comes out shaky, hoarse. “Yes, okay. Just one more time.”

You move before he can decide to change his mind. Mark just takes steadying breaths as you sink down the bed, slipping beneath the covers, fitting between his thighs. He holds his breath when you tug down the waistband of the plaid flannel pants he’s wearing, when you touch his bare erection with your fingers, the tip of your tongue, your lips closing around him.

You’re not sure that he breathes until swallow around him, pushing to take more of his cock down your throat. Your body buzzes with the heat coming off of him, the energizing power of making him feel good.

Mark doesn’t touch you. He clenches his fingers in the bedsheets on either side of his hips as you give him his very first blowjob. You can’t help looking up at him as you do this; watching every look of pleasure and satisfaction cross his face, unrestrained. And when he moans, they’re soft moans, always conscious that you’re not alone together in this house of holy men, that there’s another priest just two doors down, an empty bathroom in between.

You keep sucking him off, taking him as deep into your mouth as you can when he blows his load for the first time.

Mark bites his knuckles to keep quiet. You pull off his erection, keeping your fingers on him, playing with him as he shudders through the last waves of pleasure.

“Look at that, would you? Felt good? How could that be a bad thing?” You drop a tender kiss to his tip, and then sit up, feeling very satisfied in yourself. “Do you want more?”

“More? No. I shouldn’t. I really, really shouldn’t.” He put his hands over his face, pinching at his nose. “Shit. What am I doing? You need to leave.”

You look at him with his face covered, his body on display to your eyes. “Well, if you want more, I’m sure you can look up a summoning ritual for me in one of your holy books, Father Mark. Call me.”

You stand up, and it’s not like you’re going to leave by the door, or anything, but you turn to look around his room one last time. You’re done here. You seduced the priest, drank energy from him, there’s nothing more to be done. You’ve enjoyed your first time, but you’re not going to do the full succubus job to this man, you’ve enjoyed him too much. You won’t drain him and leave him sick. You just hope you opened his eyes.

“Wait.” The young priest grabs your arm before you have the chance to disappear. “How do you expect me to summon you if I don’t know your name?” He says it lightly, almost joking, as if he’s still not sure that he can really take this seriously, this whole you being a seductive demon thing. But the look in his eyes is hopeful.

With a light touch to his chin, you lean in, and whisper your name in his ear.

Months pass in mortal time. You move on from the young priest, seducing many men and some women, draining a few of them dry until they’re just shells of their former selves. You’re currently seducing a wannabe actor, literally sitting on his dick, when you feel a tug inside you. It’s a strange feeling, nothing you’ve felt before, and it’s not pleasant at all.

You push at the man’s chest, the unpleasant feeling spreading through you. “I’ve got to go,” you tell him, and then you turn and vanish, following the strange feeling.

You find yourself in a strange room, a small bedroom.

“So you really never came back to me.” A voice says from behind you.

You spin around, noticing all at once the candles, and then right before you--

“Forgive me, Father. I thought you didn’t want more from me.” You reach out to Mark, standing right here before him for the first time in so long. You missed him. You missed teasing him.

“I didn’t expect you really wouldn’t come back.” Mark stands there just out of reach, his arms folded across his chest. And he looks so good, so handsome in a black button-down shirt and gray pressed slacks. But he’s barefoot and his hair is messy, adding a toned-down casual level to his attractiveness. He clears his throat and you look back up to his face as he says, “I had to make do without you around, you know.”

That piques your interest. “Oh? Did you finally learn to jerk off? Have you been touching yourself? Here in the priest house?”

Mark shakes his head. “Look around, does this look like my room there?”

No, actually. It doesn’t at all. And a quick look out the window shows that you’re in somewhere completely different.

“I left the priesthood,” Mark explains. “What you said, what you did to me, I realized that the priesthood wasn’t what was the best choice for me. I can still serve the Lord in other ways, other ways that will allow me to explore the side of me that you awakened.” And now Mark steps closer to you. At last, he reaches for your face, slipping his fingers into your hair. You practically purr at the contact with him. “I’ve been busy since you left me.”

“Oh?” You lean into his touch. “From priest to manwhore in just a few passes of the moon.”

Mark nods. “I tried to stay on that path for a little while, but I just couldn’t. I craved more, that same feeling you gave me.” He nibbles his bottom lip nervously for a second before admitting, “I actually slept with a woman before I decided to give up on the priesthood. I prayed for forgiveness afterwards, but it just felt like I fucked up too much on that one, so I decided to leave. I moved away, started over, slept around, but none of them touched me the way that you did. Nothing feels better than you.”

You shrug. “It’s part of the job description really. I’m a seductress. You think I’m not going to be the best you’ve ever had? Is that why you summoned me, you want more at last?”

“Demon, I want to make you a deal.” Mark caresses your cheek. “I am a man of faith, and you’ve steered me down some side path that I had absolutely no intention of going down. In the past, I didn’t know what to do with you, but I wanted you. Now, I still want you, but I know what I’m doing. I know about you. I did research about your kind while I was looking up how to summon you again. I want to make a deal.”

“A deal?” You pull back from him, breaking all contact. “Mark, what the hell. Don’t you know what making a deal with a demon means?”

He cuts you off with a shake of his head, dismissive. “I don’t care. I know the risk, but, fuck, I swear you got me addicted to you. Just a few hits, and I crave you.”

“Why would you want to make a deal with me? A binding pact?” You push at his chest and Mark takes a step back to balance. “Are you fucking stupid? You think I want your soul, Mark Lee? You had a good soul, a pure one. That’s why I left you and never looked back! Some things are too good starting out, and tarnishing them with my hands....” You look down at your hands, and you can see through the glamor you wear, down to your real form the ashen hell-burnt flesh.

Mark’s watching you when you look up at him. But he doesn’t look afraid, doesn’t look sad or sorry.

His eyes still burn with need.

“I don’t want your soul,” you tell him, “So I don’t want a deal.”

Mark takes another step back from you. “But I want you. So take the damned deal. Fuck me.”

“And what do you get out of it? You won’t get fame or fortune or health from this deal. You literally just get to fuck a demon until you die, so no, that’s not good enough.” If you were human you’d be sick to your stomach right now. What Mark’s offering you, if he were anyone else you would take the deal, but Mark Lee was a good man when you met him; he was cute and innocent, a pure soul that you wanted to protect so you left for his own good. You couldn’t make him pay the price of being with you.

No, Mark shakes his head in denial and desperation. He comes close to you again, standing just an inch away from you, close enough that both of you can feel each other, but not close enough that any part of you is actually touching.

“Just touch me, please.” Mark pleads. “I miss your touch. The way you made me feel, I’ve been chasing that high for months, and nothing compares. Please.”

You want to touch him. You really, really do.

With a groan of frustration, you cup Mark’s face in your hands. “I’m going to be the death of you,” you tell him in the moment before your lips meet his.

The kiss is absolutely intoxicating. Mark moans and wraps around you, moving backwards toward his bed, limbs tangling together as you both collapse onto his sheets. You pin him beneath you, kissing the air from his lungs, your fingers sliding down the front of his shirt, buttons falling open just at your touch. And when your fingertips move a bit lower, grazing the front of his pants, you find that he’s devastatingly hard.

He rolls his hips up against your hand, groaning into the kiss, whimpering delightfully when you squeeze his erection.

You sit up on him, and Mark follows, needy for your kiss. His mouth crashes against yours, sharp and hot. You push his shirt off his shoulders, and you let him roll you under him, your body nestled into his sheets as Mark unbuttons his fancy slacks, pushing them down enough that you can see his cock pop out.

You grab onto the edges of his pants, dragging him forward up your body, and you all but throw your mouth onto his cock.

Much like the last time, Mark seems caught off guard by the way you make him feel. He moans loudly, fingers knotting in your hair. But unlike the last time, he quickly recovers, seems to know what to do to get exactly what he wants, using his hands in your hair to direct your mouth.

When you can see it in his face that he’s enjoying this a bit too much, you pull off, using your hand on him instead, looking up at him as you jerk him off over your chest.

“Mmm, fuck,” Mark moans, a hand running over his chest and down his abs. “No one makes me feel this good. Not with anything they’ve done to me.” He thrusts forward into your hand. “I need to feel you around me.”

You nod. You want it too. You’re ready for him, and he’s clearly more than ready for you. Mark quickly disposes of his pants, climbing back on the bed, sinking in to kiss you again, and you fall into the kiss, more intoxicating than anything you’ve ever felt. With a hand to his chest, you press Mark onto his back, and you climb over him, straddling his thighs.

You don’t break the kiss, just reach down as you move forward to situate yourself over him. Teasing the head of his erection against your wet, dripping entrance, Mark whines, shifting his hips up eagerly. “Patience,” you murmur, and you leave his lips behind to kiss down his throat, down the center of his chest, and you glance up at him as you allow his tip to slide inside you just as you circle your tongue on one of his nipples.

He bucks up, wanting to bury himself inside you, but you’ve already pulled away again.

“Thought you said you’d know what to do now?” You ask, flicking your tongue over his pebbled nipple. “When are you going to prove that? Because from where I’m sitting--” you sit upright, right down on him so his erection is trapped between his abdomen and your wet heat, “--you’re still the innocent boy who doesn’t now how to fuck me.”

You’re not entirely sure how he does it, flipping from submissive boy trapped beneath you to you suddenly being on your back with Mark’s mouth ravaging your throat, and his cock rutting between your legs, still not inside you, but now it’s you who groans at the tease. His erection glides over your clit, and each time you feel a zip of pleasure.

You grip at his arms, fingers digging into muscle, and then Mark’s cock slips and on the next thrust, he fucks right into you.

Both of you moan as he sinks inside you, his teeth catch at your throat, instantly soothed again by his lips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Mark mumbles the words against your skin. “You’re so soft, warm. Heavenly.” He buries his face in your neck, his entire body presses against yours--chest and hip, legs tangled together as he shallowly fucks into you while sucking at your throat.

This is intimate and strange and fascinating and fantastic. Your usual partners are just quick fucks that you feed off of their sexual energy and then you leave. It’s not intimate at all, no matter how many times you’d fucked them, there was no intimacy--rarely were attempts made by them, and never by you--but here you can’t get enough of this. You just want Mark closer until you can’t feel where your form ends and Mark begins.

Your fingernails scrape the back of his neck, twisting in his hair as you bring his busy lips from your throat to your lips, needing to satiate the hunger.

This is pure lust, addiction to him and his addiction to you.

You’re not even feeding off the sexual energy of this intercourse, just existing in the moment for the carnality of it all.

Mark’s thrusts grow bigger, deeper, more powerful, and you wrestle with him, letting him stay on top until suddenly you want him beneath you. You want to fuck him, to ride him, and that lasts for a bit until you’re on your belly pressed into the bed, Mark thrusting into you from behind with his lips against your cheek as he murmurs praises. There’s teeth and nails, Mark’s hair sticks to his forehead with sweat. He shivers in delight when you press him again beneath you, circling your hips on his cock, tracing your fingers over the raised pink lines from your nails down his chest.

He looks high, his pupils wide, his skin flushed, and he’s alive with a glowing energy that calls out to you, begging you to drink it in. But you don’t want that here. You just want this, to feel a part of this, to make him feel the best you can because experiencing sex like this with Mark where you’re not using your demon powers feels absolutely insane, makes you feel even better than when you do answer that call, and drink off the energy of your partner.

His hand snaps against your ass, and you realize you’ve just been sitting there, gazing down at him in admiration. “Move, baby.” And he does it again.

“Fuck, Mark. Do you go to confession and tell the priest that you dream about getting fucked by a demon like this?” You roll your hips, sinking forward until your lips are beside his ear. “Do you confess your sins. Forgive me, Father, but I let a demon into my life. She fucked me so good I stopped being a priest because her pussy is worth it.”

Mark moans.

“Forgive me, Father, but when I was a priest, she made me cum for her in the Church, on holy ground.” You squeeze around his cock, and he lets out a beautiful sound. “Mmm, forgive me, Mark, but I think no amount of confession will make up for sinning like this, loving every single thing we’re doing right now.”

“Holy--!” Mark’s voice cuts off as you sit up, curling your delicate fingers around his throat. His eyes roll back from the pleasure, and you just smile down at him, applying pressure to his throat and circling your other thumb around his nipple. He blinks and looks up at you, his mouth hanging open in soundless awe and appreciation, his eyes glowing with lust and something else. You just want to make him feel good.

You press forward, unable to hold back, needing to feel his lips on yours as you ride him, as you feel that pleasure seeping through your body, a warm silvery-golden glow as your toes curl and your body goes warm and light and fuzzy.

Mark’s hands are on you -- on your hips and your hands and in your hair and on your thighs, touching you all over, pressing you down as he bucks up into you, and then he’s cumming and it feels so good too, better than when the others have done it.

You keep kissing him, rolling your hips down on him, wanting to keep this feeling going. It’s one you’ve never truly felt before.

But eventually it must end, and you roll off to the side, and Mark follows, not wanting to let you get too far. He tucks his face against your neck, breath hot and damp on your skin, and his thigh slips comfortably between yours. You feel sticky and sweaty all over in places you didn’t know you could be sweaty, and you feel like you need to catch your breath.

Mark drops a singular tiny kiss to the center of your chest, and then he pulls back, his head resting on one side of the pillow, yours on the other, only a few bare inches between the tips of your noses. You’ve never been this close to a human before (on multiple levels) and you don’t pull back.

“I made a deal with a demon,” Mark whispers, and he uses a finger to brush back a section of sweaty hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Or at least, I meant to. Don’t leave me.”

“Mark, I won’t kill you.” You tell him, absolutely refusing to let this go where he seems to carelessly want it to go.

His fingers tighten in your hair. “Then give it up. I want you. All the time. And it’s not just because you’re a succubus. I know that’s part of the enchantment, I completely understand that, but I know in a deeper place in my heart that I crave you in a way that’s separate from your crazy, mystical demon powers, okay? Give it up.”

You stare into his eyes, his wide and innocent and hopeful eyes. You want to do it for him. You want to give Mark whatever he asks for. But... “I can’t. This is who I am, I can’t just give up being a succubus. It’s what I was brought into existence to be.”

Mark shakes his head. “I refuse to believe that. You’re a demon, but what are demons except fallen angels.” His thumb strokes over your cheek. “And I see an angel when I look at you.”

You roll your eyes and push his hand away. You sit up, ready to leave his bed, to flee into the unknown from him. But Mark’s fingers circle tightly around your wrist.

“I know how to summon you, I’ll just bring you back,” he says.

“And if I asked you not to?” You flex your wrist, testing his hold. “If I told you that I truly wanted you to leave me alone. What then?”

Mark’s hand falls away and he closes his eyes, turning onto his back to face the ceiling. “I would leave you alone. I would wish I could have convinced you to stay. Because I can see that you want to be here as much as I want you to stay.” He opens his eyes, looking right at you. “You gave me your name before you left, you opened this path for me to find you again, so you must have wanted me to, right?”

Right.

“So stay. I’m a theological man, and I’ve done my research into demonology and the supernatural, into good and evil. You think you’re just a demon, but I think you’re an angel, and somewhere in between where you stand and where I stand is a happy medium, a place where you and I can have this--” he gestures between your two bare bodies in his bed “--without you being afraid of destroying my soul.”

This is absolutely ridiculous.

You want it more than you can explain.

“Make a deal with me, demon.” Mark says, taking your hand in his, guiding it to his chest. He presses your palm flat over his heartbeat. “Stay with me, and I’ll help you become the angel that I know you are.”

This story began with a demon set on destroying her sexual victims and with a priest certain of his fate as a celibate holy man, and now you’re here. Both of you have already come so far from where you began.

You take Mark’s hand, guiding it so his palm lays over where your heart would be.

“The deal is true.” You tell him, and Mark gazes into your eyes as he repeats those words back to you, and just like that a bond is formed, a pact made, and you sink down against him, pressing your cheek to his chest as his arms wrap around you.

And this time you stay.

a/n: oops, I knew as soon as I first read this message that it was probably going to end up as a drabble, but damn I didn’t think I’d make it this long lol

If you liked it please reblog, like, comment. If you’re into the corruption of religious figures thing, definitely also check out Righteous a 5-part series by the wonderful @skzctnightnight​ it’s not got demons but it does have seminarian student Mark being tempted by the reader and it’s very hot and good