#Just imagine a cat with it's back arched staring in a mirror

[scruus]

afab childe crying just by looking at the bulge on his stomach as you thoroughly fuck him shsjshj

poor harbinger sobs when you pump his womb full of cum for the nth time of the night, and he can't help but watch as your fluid trails out of his cunt, down his thighs and down on the floor...

going crazy

I had to write an entire fic for this. Its too good.

YOU ALL ARE MAKING ME LOSE SLEEP ON THIS OH GOD. Minors istg DNI or ill bite your head off.

★̶̲ [ 𝐰𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞 ]

✎ sub afab childe + dom amab reader notes: rough filthy sex; mirror sex; creampie; cum inflation(?); overstimulation; childe being a masochistic son of a bitch(hinted). THIS IS PLAIN FILTHY JUST GHHH STOP I CANT BE SO HORNY ANYMORE

Childe groans when he sees his gaping cunt take you in so well. His teary eyes are half lidded as you try to make him look in the mirror. Make him look at how your dick makes a bulge everytime you move in and out. “S-stop uughh”, he groans out.

You hook his legs apart, him seated on your dick, because his legs have barely the ability to do anything voluntarily. He feels so small in front of you. With the way you are gripping his face and spreading his gummy cum filled cunt apart, it makes him shudder.

“See baby, i think one more dick could easily fit inside you”, you whisper against his ears as you rock your hips again, making that cock of yours reach so deep he could never imagine it was possible. “If i had two dicks….imagine how pretty your belly would look?”, childe moans loudly at the thought, nails digging in your arms. You have made him absolutely pathetic.

You smack your hand against his clit making him jolt, a striking pain going up his pussy. He smiles deliriously, taking in that pain like a good painslut.

Pushing him down, you hold his waist tightly so that there is ease in sliding in him and fucking that cunt senselessly. Childe tries to look up with his dazed eyes and stares at the mirror in front of you both. He can see his back arched like a cat, and your devilish grin while you grope his bruised ass.

Childe screams as you start pounding into him again, the cum acting as a lube and making it easier for your huge dick to move in and out. You groan feeling his cushy fat lips enveloping your dick and his warm cum filled insides pulsing around it. Its the best feeling in the word.

“Oough-n-no s’rough nghh”, he claws on the bedsheets which were stained with his tears and cum. His sobs only further fuelling your desire while you trail kisses down his spine.

His pussy hurts so bad, his clit is all puffy and numb, evident of your abuse on it, yet he still cant be fulfilled. He wants it to hurt like hell. He wants his womb to be filled to the brink, wants you to impregnate him so that all your attention is on him.

Then he wouldn’t need to act like a brat or an attention whore every single minute of the day.

You take both of his arms and pin it to his back, trying to drill into him using them as a leverage. You moan out seeing how his red, scarred ass shakes up and down everytime you slap your hips against his like a feral animal.

Taking your dick all out and then plunging it all in in every thrust, he chokes out whorish cries. You were splitting him open mercilessly and he could just moan and take your entire cock in like a fucking cocksleeve.

Guttural moans and whimpers can be heard from childe as his entire body is being treated like a ragdoll. “Ah fuck my pretty cumslut is being so good today”, you laugh out knowing he loves being called that.

His wrist is now bruising because of your tight grip on them, just like his hips and the rest of his body. Your tip is kissing his womb, balls slapping against his wet sopping cunt.

Pearls of slick dripping down his thighs, as you see your cock disappear in him and appear again. His hips are trembling with shock, trying to keep up with your rough pace. Ah fuck he is so lewd, you think.

He can hardly keep conscious. You have cum so many times in him, he could barely keep it all inside. Poor pup doesn’t want even a bit of your cum to leak out, he wants to savor it all in. But not to worry, you dont plan on stopping soon anytime.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing down on me again, ugh am gonna cum”, you rasp out, your hips picking up pace as you pounded into him with such intensity, childe could see stars in his eyes.

“Ooughh fuckfuckfuckfuck ugh cu-cummin”, his eyes rolling in his skull and his whorish moans getting desperately loud. He could only blabber nonsensically as his voice was nothing but squeaks. And just like that, you came with him.

Drops of water spraying all over the bedsheet while the trembling ginger spasms in your arms, his toes curling and his mouth open in a silent scream. He had squirted once again tonight.

You shut your eyes, his pussy creaming around your cock as his cunt is sucking you further in, and you groan out.

You let go of his arms and his weak body plops on the bed. Taking your dick out you saw the gooey filthy cum drip out of his hole in massive amounts, he was really filled to the brim. He whined on feeling the loss of your cock and the warm cum oozing out.

Your fingers spreading apart his lips and see the sticky cum coating his pretty pink folds and the inside of his gaping hole. You were quite big, after all.

Placing a kiss on his shuddering ass cheeks, you softly kneaded it. “Don’t worry baby, ill take care of you after i wreck you”.

Flipping him on his back, you grabbed his hips and entered inside him in a single thrust, choking out a hoarse moan from childe. “But am not done wrecking you yet”, you huff before pounding into him again as childe continues to scream your name.

Looks like you both have to take the next day off.

[saintgoths]

ᴄᴀᴛ ꜰɪɢʜᴛ

DEALER!ELLIE X READER - CAT FIGHT. [COLLEGE/UNIVERSITY AU].

[PART EIGHT TO THE CATGIRL SERIES.]

WORD COUNT - 2,214.

RATING - 18+. [protective Ellie, lesbian sex].

SUMMARY - you and ellie get back together, but an angry doris confronts you.

[follow for more content & feedback would be appreciated thank you <3].

previous chapter - chapter seven.

You smiled, never had you thought you’d have a lover serenading to you. Your hands cupped your face as Ellie hummed, while she easily strummed her fingers against her instrument, you had watched with awe as you listened to the lyrics fall out of her lips, “I watch the moon, let it run my mood, can’t stop thinking of you,” the girl sang, and complimented you had leaned your back against the head board, hands now away from your face and now against your lap as she finished.

“That was amazing,” you said as she put down her guitar against the foot of her bed.

“Thank you,” Ellie acknowledged before she moved herself to kiss you, it was quick and soft, but the smiles between the two of you had mirrored the intense shared passion.

It had been two weeks ever since what had happened, and the two of you were confident to say that it had pushed the two of you closer.

Ellie had now had you in her arms as you comfortably rested on her chest, you stared up at the ceiling. “Did you really mean that song?” You curiously questioned, you looked up at Ellie, hands around her tattooed arm as she stared back at you.

“I can never stop thinking about you,” Ellie truthfully shared and with another kiss, you had gently flipped yourself so you could lay on your stomach. Eager to touch her mouth, you had moved your hands beneath her shirt but the sound of someone knocking on Ellie’s dorm door had stopped the two of you.

Your girlfriend had groaned as she pulled herself off her bed. It had been both Dina and Jesse behind the door, and quickly, you had remembered there was a party the four of you were going to. Jesse said he’d drive, which is why the two of them had gone to pick both of you.

You pulled on your shoes, and now on your feet, both you and Jesse greeted each other, he threw a certain look towards your way before he had commented. “What were you love birds doing?” He questioned; half of his question had sounded serious but you were able to hear the playful tone.

With a knowing look, you arched your eyebrow. “Leave it to your imagination,” you responded as you slipped past him and before he did, Dina slapped his arm.

“Don’t you dare imagine anything,” she comically threatened which had then caused the rest of you to laugh.

❊❊❊

It was loud and packed. Both you and Ellie had clung onto each other as the two of you adjusted to the new atmosphere, there had been led lights, drinking competitions and people passionately kissing each other on one of the couches on display

“I wonder if there’s a room we can be in,” you poorly joked, thus Ellie squeezed your hand to reassure you.

“We should get a drink,” she said and with a quick peck on her lip, you told your girlfriend that you’d be the one to get them.

Once you left her side, you scanned for where most of the drinks had come from and made a bee-line towards it once you had found it. You hadn’t realised Doris had been there, but once you had felt someone’s hard eyes dig into you, you had looked up.

You remained silent as you poured both you and Ellie drinks but as you went to leave, Doris had commented.

“You managed to get Ellie back,” Doris said, as if what had come out of her mouth had been irony.

You turned to look at her. “I’m serious about her.”

“It took you time to become serious,” Doris pointed out, which had been true. “To be serious about people, I mean.”

Flatly, you smiled. “The previous people I were with were just stepping stones to get to Ellie I guess.”

Doris smiled right back at you, and in a matter of seconds, the liquid in her cup had been splashed all over you. Everyone turned to look at what had been happening, and annoyed, you had thrown your drink back at Doris as people encouraged the two of you to fight.

Quick on her feet, Ellie immediately stepped in between you and Doris, her eyes dark as she looked at your ex-partner. “Leave [Y/N] the fuck alone!” Ellie rudely spat, and bold, Doris had taken a step forward, ready to speak, but Ellie had been quicker. “I promise I’d give you the beating I should’ve did back in the toilets.”

With a scoff, Doris looked at both you and Ellie up and down before she left. Your arms crossed, you realised how drenched you were, your excitement for the party had been put out the moment Doris threw her drink on you. “I’m wet but not in a good way,” you muttered as Ellie turned to look at you.

Empathetic, Ellie had sighed as she grabbed your wrist. “Come on, let us look for somewhere to dry you up,” she said and obedient, you had followed your girlfriend through the crowds who returned to party to the loud music.

❊❊❊

The two of you had found a room to sit in, Ellie had been the one to look for a bathroom and a towel, and once she did, she had used it to dry you up. “At least you still look very pretty,” Ellie said and you rolled your eyes to her comedic timing.

“Please you love being told you’re pretty,” she teased before she kissed you. Tenderly, Ellie had pulled away before she tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “How do you feel?” She asked as she gave you another peck. “Being confronted, and everything with your dad?”

You burst out laughing. “Ellie, we’re about to have sex and you’re asking me about my dad?” You asked and with red cheeks, Ellie kissed you again.

“I’m so stupid,” she mumbled and you agreed, with a smile you pulled her closer as she slipped off your shirt.

You had gently moaned as you could feel her grope your breasts. You could feel the way she circled her thumb around your breast fore she moved her tongue to suck it, her other hand had slipped off your lower garments and to support yourself, you had rested on your elbows as you had watched her desperately devour you. Her mouth had been hot and wet, and every few times she’s suck on your breast she’d fan her hot breath against your skin.

Ellie had slid down your body, left trails of wet kisses against your naked skin till she met with the opening of your legs. Elie had been terrifically wet and had the obsessive crave to rub herself against you, but she had focused on you, had left kisses between your thigs before her mouth wrapped around your pearl, as she sucked, the texture of her tongue had stroked against your slit, and you had shuddered, sensitive, your hand immediately reached for her hair.

The tip of her tongue repeatedly flicked against your clit before she slid her tongue inside, her swift movements had caused you to shake in surprise, her tongue also being aided by her digits had glided inside of you, her fingers arched as she stroked the soft lump inside of your cunt, eyes sunken into yours as she had watched the way your body had twitched.

“Ellie!” You had whined as you could feel yourself quickly cum, with a smirk, Ellie moved herself back to your lips, she had a smirk on her face, a smirk of arrogance, proud of how easy she had made you climax. The Williams girl helped herself to pull off the rest of her clothing, and immediately, your eyes were trained on her lean body.

“Look at me,” she commanded and immediately you did, your lower lips tucked behind your teeth, as you felt her adjust on top of you, your wet skins had barely touched but there was a ghostly gasp that left your lips, and when you had felt the pressure of her weight lean against yours, your eyes softened.

Your hands against her waist you had supported Ellie’s weight on top of yours as she commenced to rub her clit against yours. She moaned as she lowered her body against yours, her face buried between the crook of your neck as she had moaned, her eyes rolled back as the gentle sparks began to increase.

“Kiss me!” She begged and immediately, her lips were pressed against yours, the slick shared between your heat had augmented, and the lewd sting of her pressing your clit against yours had boosted, you had tucked your tongue into her mouth as she had sucked, her thrust had become quicker and more animalistic, greedy to chase her high, Ellie had moved her lips to the sharpness of your jaw, hungry as she used her tongue to lick down your neck.

Intense, your nails had dug into her back, you were almost there, entranced by the way your clit had moved and circled against hers, your eyes watered. “Fuck!” You cried out just as your body started to twitch. “Ellie!” You screamed as you climaxed, stubborn, Ellie had remained against you, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as her figure slowly cloaked with heat.

Her hand that was tightly clasped with yours had dug into your skin, she was wordless, looking down on you as she bounced on your swollen clit, her orgasm coming seconds after yours. Her nectar, spilled against your opened heat as she had then dropped beside you. Briefly, she had pushed a deep sigh as her wet eyes looked up at the ceiling.

“We should get back,” you breathed out as you had then sat up at the side of your bed, your back faced towards her, aware that the sight of her eyes glided down the figure of your back. You held back a smirk, if it had been you two back at her dorm, you would’ve gone for second rounds.

❊❊❊

It had been another week, you had remained by Ellie, spent almost the entirety of your term in her dorm, your finals were soon, but reluctant to stay away from you, Ellie had encouraged you to crash at hers.

The both of you knew how’d it end, kissing and touching each other. Ellie singing to you as you wrote about your fashion research, truthfully, the sex had taken over the amount of time you had spent with her, but it had been one of your favourite things to do, lips gently locked with hers as your fingers circled her clit, her tongue slipped into yours as she arched her fingers into your depth.

You had gasped into her mouth as you could feel your orgasm reach, around your fingers you had released, and Ellie had been after you. Currently, with your forehead pressed against each other, you had been the first one to roll against your back.

“After all this,” you said out of exhaustion. “Where should we go?”

“London,” Ellie quickly said and excited your eyes brightened.

You had then sat up. “London,” you said with a smile. “I’d love to go there,” you encouraged as you slipped on your panties.

“And then to Paris, to Rome,” Ellie listed, in early anticipation of what the future held for the both of you. “We go to the Eiffel Tower and we make out under it.”

You hit her shoulder as you teased her. “How corny,” you joked and with the dramatic roll of her eyes, Ellie pulled her hands behind her head.

When you put on the rest of your clothes, Ellie decided to put on her briefs, you phone had then rung and with a dismissive look you had muttered. “I’ll reply to it later.”

Unsure, Ellie stood to her feet, her gazed fixed on your phone, it had vibrated as the screen shined brightly white. “I think it is best that you answer now,” she suggested, though with the sound of her voice, it had appeared more commanding.

With a side smile you reached for it, unaware that the number of missed calls had been detrimental.

It was from your mother.

With a frown you had picked up the call, you had quickly pulled a strand of hair behind your ear as the sound you were met with were the frantic cries of your mother. You didn’t need to hear what she had to say because you knew, it had come to you like a moth to a flame, but with your silence and the stiffness of your body, you didn’t know if you had become paralysed or had been in shock to what your mother finally said.

You knew it was always going to happen, but there was always a delusional hope you had within you that believed that your he would survive, but it was just the inner child naivety. A scared daughter clinging onto her dying father. You had already wept before you mother had spoken, but when her woe words eventually came out of her mouth, clarifying the death of your father, your whole world had come to a stop.

feedback would be appreciated! if you want to be apart of the tag list comment <3

plus, it is ending there's only one chapter left.

tag list - @liasxeatt

masterlist

catgirl masterlist

[softly-potter]

After a Mission

Summary: Mercury and Emerald let off some steam after a successful mission.

Pairing: Emerald x Mercury

Word Count: 1,703

Warning: none

A/N: prn with literally no plot oops

- “You’re staring, and you have been all day.”

Mercury smiles, “Am I not allowed to stare at my partner?”

Emerald eyes him before she shivers. “Mercury,” she says in a low voice, turning into a slight whine that usually he only hears when they’re in between sheets. “It’s distracting, staring like that on missions.”

“Good thing I can multitask.” He chuckles and his voice is like gravel, making her shiver once more.

“Well it's distracting to me.” she clarifies, crossing her arms.

“I’m sorry,” he muses, and he’s only half teasing. “Watching you work can bring about… certain ideas.”

“Ideas?” she hums. “What kind of ideas?”

The sort of ideas that have the hem of her dress rucked up around her waist, her back arched as he pulls her hair while he thrusts into her from behind and-

“Use your imagination,” he says, not bothering to explain himself, instead he slides beside her, tugging playfully at the strap of her dress. “But back to your original joke; can I stare at you now?”

“Why now?” she says with narrowed eyes. “What's different?”

Mercury tugs at the strap again, chews at the inside of his cheek. “Well missions over, Cinder has fucked off to Gods know where, and we have time. So shouldn’t I get the privilege of being able to stare at my addictive partner?”

Emerald ponders this for a moment, and she watches as his thumb glides over her collar bone. “Just stare? That's it?”

He pulls the strap down, leaves it hanging. “Is there something else I should do?”

Emerald glares at him; she has a love-hate relationship with the game of cat and mouse they play, and tonight, she wants it simple.

“You know what else you should do.” she says tightly. He gives her a fake confused look, tracing his index finger from her collarbone to her shoulder, down her arm.

“Do I?” he teases, his hand moving from her hand to her thigh and up her skirt. Mercury runs his fingers feather light over her panties and she lets out a breath.

“Mercury,” she sighs, skin alight as he gets closer to her, the armrest of the sofa plush against her backside. “Oh Gods.”

She lets out a whimper as he slips his hand under her panties and inserts a pair of fingers between her folds, her eyes fluttering as he ground his thumb against his clit.

“Words, pretty girl,” he teases softly, his sadistic tendencies making an appearance, testing her patience until he could get her the way he always wants.

Emeralds eyes snap open, ruby eyes dancing like lava in the glow of their room and he grins knowing he’s won. 

“Clothes off. Now.”

Her voice is silky and cool, and he reaches for his tie, the one Cinder has required of him to wear for the mission, the one he wanted to burn on sight.

“Okay sweetheart.” he says, keeping his eyes trained on her. He drops the tie to the floor, tugs at his dress shirt. Emerald glances at the tie with disgust.

“Such an ugly thing,” she muses as he pushes his dress shirt off his shoulders. “You’d think Cinder would know brown clashes with your hair.”

Mercury nods, pulls down his pants and kicks them away. Emerald watches him quietly, leaning against the armrest and her expression is that of a hunter watching its prey.

When he is bare, he stands still, trying to keep his breathing in check as he awaits her next move. Emerald takes a few paces forward, standing right infront of him and seizes him by his dick, sending his heart into his throat.

Gently tugging, she leads him to the door of their closet which sports a hanging mirror. She releases her hold on him, turning so that they are looking at one another in the reflection.

“Sweetheart?” he whispers, wanting more than anything to touch her but knowing better than to rush her when she's in this state of mind.

Emerald smiles, lifts her arms up. “Undress me, please.”

Mercury scrambles for the hem of the dress, pulling it up and over her head. Her hair falls loose down her naked back, and he once again thanks the gods for her growing out her green locks. She’s dressed in a white and light green panty set, which would be simple enough if it wasn't for the diamond-shape cut out on the top of the back of the panties and between her breasts, showing off her tan cleavage. He feels his mouth water.

Emerald spies his expression and smiles, one of the rare ones he only sees when it's the two of them, before she reaches back and tugs him. “The bra and panties too.”

He gulps as she lazy strokes him, his hands moving quickly from the bra clip to the edge of her panties, removing them.

Taking her hand back, her red eyes meet his gray ones in the mirror. “Hold me?”

She makes it sound like a question but he knows better. Mercury wraps his arms around her middle, tucking his chin into the corner of her neck and shoulder.

He nearly loses his balance when she tucks his cock between her legs, her thighs clenching snuggly around him and nestles him between her folds.

Slowly, Emerald begins to grind, slow tortuous drags along his ridges that smear her slick on him, lessening the friction until it was impossibly slick. It was all too much and not enough at the same time, the friction and heat making his head swim.

She was driving him to the brink of insanity.

“More.” Mercury begs and Emerald gives him a quizzical look. Putting her hand back, she rakes her hands through his hair, tugs gently.

“Okay,” she says and he’s thankful she isn’t playing too hard tonight. “Knees first.”

He drops instantly, a dull thud emanating from where his knees land and he drinks her in, the dimples on her spin, the tan of her skin and the multitude of scars that litter the expanse of her back.

Emerald turns, her red eyes watching him and he settles his hands on his knees, his erection bobbing, helplessly ignored.

She looms over him like a statue in the Beacon garden, staring at him before she slings a singular leg over his shoulder and he steadies her.

Mercury looks between her face and her sex, his stomach flipping as he sees her arousal shine between her folds.

“Go ahead,” she whispers, cupping his chin in her hand for a moment before releasing it. “Eat your fill.”

Mercury leans forward and kisses her, drinking in the intoxicating taste, the heavy scent, and he needs more. Gripping her hips, he buries his face between her thighs, licking thick strips up her folds, nosing her clit, kissing her thighs.

Emerald moans softly, placing her hands on his shoulders for balance. Her gut rolls with pleasure, the sound of Mercury's tongue on her like sinful music to her ears.

“There you go,” she gasps, her head rolling. “Right there.”

He presses harder, sucking her clit and parting her folds with his tongue, her juices dampening his chin. She is warm lava on his mouth, her scent making him dizzy with lust and something akin to love, though he’d never dare tell her that. He was almost certain she wouldn't like that.

“That's so good, Mercury,” she whispers, her voice sending a pulse through his body, straight to his leaking head. “Such a good boy.”

His hold on her hips tighten as he picks up the pace, spurred on by her praise and he laps at every sensitive spot with reach. His hand drifts up her center and pinches her breast, rolling it between his fingers and she moans.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against her, and Emerald tenses as he works her, her moans becoming louder, more instant. She tugs his hair, rolling her hips until she’s earnestly fucking his face.

He nudges her clit with his nose again and it makes her knees weak. She sways and he catches her spinning them easily so that Emerald's back lands on the mattress, and he presses her legs to her chest.

“Mercury.” She wheezes, and then groans when he buries his face in her cunt again, licking and lapping at her folds, devouring her until she’s slack jawed and her face flaming red.

She’s so close, the tugging on his hair becoming more and more bewildered, her voice growing hoarse, and then she’s gone, her moan dampened as she clamps her mouth down on her hand and his head with her thighs.

He continues licking her through her high, and when she says his name with a quick yank on his head, he looks up at her, lust blown eyes staring.

“Get inside me now.”

Mercury grins, crawls up her body before he slides his length along her folds, wetting himself with her release.

When he slides inside her with a soft squelch, he nearly comes on the spot.

He fucks her fast and hard, exactly how she likes, muffling her moans with his mouth as he kisses her. Sucking on his lower lip, Emerald grins when she tastes herself, scratching hot lines down his back and wrapping her legs around him, keeping him close.

When he comes, it's deep and rooted, his hips stutter, and Emerald makes the most praise-worthy sound. They settle into an easy, almost customary post-sex haze, the scent of sweat and sex thick.

“Y’know, I had wanted you to fuck me in front of the mirror.” 

“Sorry?” Mercury says, looking at her in the hopes that she isn't actually frustrated with him and his eagerness. She shrugs with a grin.

“S’okay,” she says, exhaustion claiming her. “Next time we can.”

Mercury nods and Emerald leans up, kissing his cheek before dropping back to the mattress unceremoniously. Grinning, Mercury stands on wobbly legs, washing his face before he returns with a towel, dabbing her gently. Emerald shifts, eyes closed and lays on her side. Tugging the blanket over her, Mercury settles in beside her, watching her face for a moment before he too closes his eyes, and allows sleep to take him.

[helmort]

🎃 𝗘𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗖𝗮𝘁𝘀 🎃

Emily's hands trembled slightly as she stood in the dimly lit bathroom. She had recently moved into an old house, and though it had a reputation for being eerie, she had dismissed the stories as mere local gossip. She splashed water on her face, trying to calm her nerves.

As she stared into the foggy mirror, she thought she saw something move outside the window. Her heart raced as she glimpsed a shadowy figure watching her from the darkness. It was unnerving, but she reasoned it could be a curious neighbor or a trick of her imagination. Fear tightened her chest, making it difficult to breathe, but she chalked it up to the unfamiliar surroundings. She tried to push aside her unease and turned her attention back to the mirror. Then, Emily noticed that her reflection seemed distorted. Her own face in the mirror contorted into a grotesque, twisted grin. It felt as if the mirror itself had come to life. She stumbled back in shock, her pulse quickening. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the shadowy figure press against the window, their face grotesque and leering. Panic washed over her, and she was rendered voiceless and immobile by fear. The eerie tales spoke of a psychopath lurking in the shadows, abducting young women from the neighborhood.

Just as the sinister presence seemed to close in on her, two cats darted into the bathroom. These were no ordinary cats; they were flesh and blood, but they had a peculiar and comforting familiarity about them. One of them hissed at the window, while the other arched its back, fur standing on end. With a ferocity that defied nature, they lunged at the intruder, slashing and clawing with supernatural force. Emily wasted no time, fumbling for her phone to summon the police, then rushed to the window, but there was no sign of the watcher.

As the dust settled, Emily sought to offer her feline saviors some respite or a morsel of food, but they had vanished without a trace.

Days turned into weeks, and in a long-forgotten room, amid dusty relics and forgotten memories, Emily stumbled upon an aged photograph. It depicted the former owner, an elderly woman from 1984, standing beside two cats. The revelation struck her like a bolt of lightning—these were the very cats that had come to her aid. The elderly woman had once inhabited the house, and the spectral cats had been her loyal companions. The woman had passed away a decade before Emily's arrival. Now, she knew that had two unexpected ghost feline protectors by her side.

💀☠️💀☠️💀

[swordsxandxshadows]

“It is only after the act is done that I remember WHY I do not shave my beard off completely.”

[fxshigurosbae]

THE LEARNING BOY . . .

your boy wants to practice what he learned.

⋆.ೃ࿔* megumi fushiguro (19) x f!reader (18)

✶ mature content (minors do not interact) — fingering, mirror sex, pet names, praise, edging, multiple orgasms, squirting, guidance, strong language.

taglist | masterlist

He told you he wanted to try new things. He told you he was dying to make you feel good. Gosh, how he’s got you wrapped around his finger, quite literally too.

Megumi-chan, had you sat between his legs — with your own also spread quite shamelessly, a rose tint on your cheeks to decorate the cute doll that you are— you imagined he’d just eat you out casually, after coming back from college, and being horny all day long, but no. He wanted to have you to fucking stare at his every move in the mirror that was in front of the bed you were both found laying at.

“Tell me if you like it, and if you don’t, ‘kay, baby?” He whispered in your ear, staring at every inch of yourselves, his hands holding onto your trembling — from anxiety — waist. Noticing him take a peek of that wet aroused pussy of yours, and all you could do was nod in response. “Good, ‘cause I’m here to serve you, baby.” While spilling those sweet words, his middle finger was found drawing circles and straight up-and-down lines on your clit — earning a gasp from your lips.

“Gumi.” You wanted to beg for a faster pace but the way he’s been playing with you is already good enough for a start — even if you had asked so, Megumi was dedicated in following the instructions Gojo explicitly described that advised him about how to please his girlfriend, and mentioned something about taking it slow at first, just to stir up this same feeling of wanting more — but the image of his digits caressing your folds was helping no one at all.

“Yeah, baby?” Holding onto his wrist, arching back like a cat in heat, slightly parted lips that let out short humming moans — since the pace had finally sped up a little, and he rubbed the most stimulating spot which even made you notice the low-cracking noise from moving the muscles from your clit.

“Keep it, like that.” Whispering, escaping a few whines that sounded like a crying cute little puppy. Both you and Megumi couldn’t seem to look away from the scene happening down there, the reflection was just so entertaining it made your boyfriend blush, a lot, and fluster a little, so his ego and pride began to reach high levels by hearing those affirming words. Wasn’t even too long before there was this brief flinching feeling in your lower stomach, wondering how the fuck did he got you to get this close with just having your clit rubbed for a little less than about two minutes. “Gumi, g’nna cum.” Resting head over his shoulder, moaning lowly on his ear in such a pretty tone. What you expected was that: Megumi letting you cum for the first time and wrapping up for the day, but no — once again, it was unexpected — there was no longer any sort of stimulation, just for a few seconds. He looked at your furrowed eyebrows with a frustrated aura, and smirked a little — so fucking cute, you thought.

“I’m sorry, baby, I promise I’ll let you cum now, and how many more times you want.” His long slender digits — middle and ring one — found a way inside your moist pussy, loud moaning leaving your mouth as a way to let him know it was better than ever. Megumi wasn’t that experienced with these sorts of stuff, more specifically for the two or three times you both had been sexually active — he did make sure you orgasmed every time, or else he’d feel guilty — but each time he got a little better, he just hadn’t had the chance to finger you properly yet, because of him being hesitant. So, for him to have his fingers curling in and out of you — like he had done it thousands of times — was dizzying, as if you’d cum right on the spot. Megumi was loving the feeling of having your pussy, of your walls embrace, and how he certainly wished to open you up to make some room and prepare for his cock, yet he was too shy to admit that.

“Gumi, fuck, keep going. Please, don’t stop.” You begged, closing your eyes ever so hurriedly that right then he had stopped you from looking away from the mirror — the image of being finger fucked by your innocent and soft boyfriend lit up a burning flame deep in. His focused stares, admiring your entireness, paying specific attention to his moves and analyzing every single step to make sure perfection was being achieved — by your engulfing whining that goal surely was coming true.

“You like it?” His gentle voice melted you like chocolate — Gosh, Gumi, I wanna have you fuck me like this all day, you thought.

“Yeah, I love it, I love it! Y’ur so good to me, Gumi, so good.” Finding precisely, and predictably, your spongy spot, which — without any warning, whatsoever — led you into oblivion, echoing humming lewd moans, so readily squirting and clenching your walls around his fingers, what a surprise.

“Fuck, baby, what a mess you made.” Even though already reaching over the top for the first time, your boyfriend hadn’t stopped, only slowing down the pace of the fingering.

“Gumi, Gumi, too much.”

“Sorry, baby, let me do it once more.” There were no complaints, after all, this situation seemed to be way too arousing for him — made it obvious by the feeling of his bulge against your bare back — so you let him keep fingering your clenching cunt, yourself sliding down his back a bit, laying all of your weight against his chest and trying your absolute best to close your legs — yet he successfully spread them apart with the unoccupied hand. — From all the moving around from your previous orgasm, his fingers were no longer in that right stimulating spot.

“Gumi, curl, curl your fingers more, please.” Guiding him effortfully as he finally picked up the pace and moved a little, only to find it for the second time — and making your legs tremble harshly — “Hmhm, fuck, f-fuck, right there, Gumi.” Watching with intensity your walls clenching over the brusque movements on the mirror, whining then moaning, moaning then whining ever so loudly. You could feel his tired breaths against your neck, the pace fastening — just how you wanted but was too dizzy to express it out loud — leading yourself into holding his wrist and pushing them further inside your cunt as you squirted, again, and all over the palm of his hand, and the sheets, without a doubt — like an earthquake, your legs shook violently and closed together, squeezing his hand between them and the same goes to his fingers, that for him felt like it’d burn them — you threw your head back, over his shoulder, all while having kisses pressed all over your neck and choking on your own moans with a shut mouth, until you went back to a sane state of mind. While he thanked Gojo over and over inside his head, which was very odd and that would definitely be a one-time thing.

“Think I came on my pants, Y/N.”

fxshigurosbae © please do not upload my content on any platform

🔖 [taglist] @fueledbysano @reiners-milkbiddies @kitabestboy

[awkward-and-indecisive]

First Day Assistance.

Summary - Y/N is new on The Boys set, nervous and determined to do her job right until she meets Jensen Ackles and her mouth loses its filter so he decides to teach her a good lesson.

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Warnings - SMUT 18+, Unprotected sex (y’all are better than this), Oral sex (f receiving), fingering, semi-public sex, tiny bit of fluff, Jensen in that damn Soldier Boy suit, this is just pure filth with no plot in sight

Word Count - 2547

A/N - Blame @msmarvelouswinchester for this and of course Mr. Jensen Snackles who I’m pretty sure wants to kill me. Apparently this is what she and I do, put thoughts into each other’s head until we can’t do anything but write them. Till three in the morning🤦🏽‍♀️

This was also Beta’d by @msmarvelouswinchester , so double thank you 😘

This is a work of fiction and for entertainment purposes. I don’t mean any harm to anyone in their family.

This is my first ever fic so please tell me what you think about it. FEEDBACK IS HIGHLY APPRECIATED!!!

Happy Reading!!!

*****

It was your first day on the set of The Boys and you were excited for this new opportunity. You had to start small with being a P. A. but now you were looking forward to working on the third season of such an amazing show. You were ready to work hard and were determined to make it big in the industry.

But all those plans flew straight out the window when you looked at Jensen fucking Ackles in his Soldier Boy suit looking like a sex god. You probably had stopped breathing and only inhaled sharply when you became a little lightheaded. Your thighs squeezed together, your pussy clenched and you could feel wetness pooling between your legs.

It was rather directly proportional - the dampness of your panties and the amount of time you looked at him. The more you stared at all the little details, the more wet you became. You knew it was highly unprofessional to have such thoughts about one of the leading actors but it was like your body had stopped listening to you and all the rational and moral thoughts had ceased to have any effect on you.

The way the muscles of his broad shoulders rippled underneath the spandex of his suit as he moved. The way the suit gave a little peek of his neck. The way his freckles shone through the little peek. The way his shoulder to waist ratio fucked you up. The way that knife holster on his hip made you go feral with lust. The way you wanted to come undone on those fingerless gloves till you couldn’t anymore. The way that suit hugged his curves, especially that perky ass.

You were busy thirsting like a dehydrated bitch in the middle of the Sahara, lost in your own filthy thoughts for who knows how long, when a snapping noise brought you back to the land of living. You blinked a few times to clear your head of its dirty thoughts and blurry vision. When you looked back up, you saw Jensen Snackles, as Sony Pictures had oh so proudly named him, standing in front of you and snapping his fingers.

Confusion flooded your expressions but before you could open your mouth to ask what he wanted, he cut you off, “Do we have a problem here, miss? Is there something on my face or what? Because you keep staring at me and I can’t do my job like that!” He said in an annoyed tone.

That’s when you looked around and saw that the set was deserted except for you and the Adonis. The director must have called for a break if there were too many bad takes. You felt a little guilty for wasting everyone’s time but before you could apologise, he cut you off again, “There she goes again. What is going on inside your head?” He clipped, waving a hand in front of your face.

You didn’t know what it was. The pent up sexual frustration of not having had sex in months or how rudely Snackles here was constantly cutting you off, with the fact that no one should look like that or that you couldn’t get your mind off of him but you snapped at him.

“Listen Mr. Sna- Mr. Ackles, firstly, I don’t have a problem with you and I’m not staring at you and secondly, you are not letting me work and are distracting me.” You quipped.

You knew in an instant you were fired for the way you had talked to him but now that you had spoken your mind and the words had left your mouth, you couldn’t take them back. So you decided to stand your ground.

“I am not letting you work?!” He scoffed, cocking one of his eyebrows.

“Yes!! You think it’s easy for me to concentrate when you roam around looking like sex on legs.” You said, waving a hand up and down his body.

Your eyes widened and your hand flew to your mouth when you heard the words that had left your mouth. A cocky smirk grew on his face and he took a step forward as you mirrored his move in the opposite direction.

“I think that implies you were staring at me.” He chuckled, stepping forward again until your back hit the wall and the clipboard and the walkie you had in your hands fell. You were caged by him against the wall, looking like a prey meeting the eyes of its predator just before it’s death.

You looked down, too ashamed and weak to meet his burning gaze. You turned your head towards the exit and said, “I’m sorry Mr. Ackles. I should leave.”

“Nuh-uh,” he tutted, “Sex on legs huh?” He asked cockily.

He was dangerously close to you. You could feel his warm breath fanning over your face. You let out an involuntary whimper and if it was possible, his face turned more cocky.

“What other thoughts swim around in that pretty little head of yours Miss..” he trailed off, his hand coming to push a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

You cleared your throat before half whispering and half whimpering, “Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Y/n Y/l/n.” He said, gruffly, as if trying to see how it would sound from his mouth and god did it sound so sinful. “Interesting name but I guess it makes up for your interesting personality. So as I was saying, what other thoughts about me do you have? Other than sex on legs of course.”

You couldn’t focus enough to reply as you were busy staring at his plump lips and that goddamn beard that gave you all kinds of thoughts you wouldn’t think in your wildest dreams.

“You’re staring again, sweetheart.” He chuckled and the vibrations of it could be felt by you as he pressed his body to yours and caged you between his arms that you knew from his Instagram video he had spent some time working on.

You instantly looked up into his gorgeous green orbs and found yourself lost in them. You opened your mouth a few times but nothing came out, looking like a fish out of the water. Words had left you. It was like a small child trying to speak but not knowing how to.

He closed the distance between his mouth and your ear and growled, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?”

Your whole body shuddered and you pushed your thighs together to get some much needed friction. Jensen seemed to notice your reaction and pushed his thigh between your legs.

“Oh so that’s what this is about. I see nobody has fucked this tight, little pussy in a while and that’s why you’re snapping at people and undressing me with your eyes.” He said in a low, deep voice that had your pussy clenching around nothing.

A wave of arousal flooded your panties and you knew they were ruined a long time ago but now it felt like they had simply disintegrated.

He continued, “But don’t you worry, unfortunately I know what it feels like and I think I would very much like to help you with that.” He winked and if it wasn’t for the wall and him caging you in, your knees would have buckled and you would be a horny mess on the floor.

You noticed your breathing had become heavier and your lips had parted, your hands were balled in fists at your sides, your pussy throbbed in need and your whole body was shaking with lust and desire.

Jensen leaned down to look into your eyes and spoke softly, “Hey, if you don’t want this tell me right away.”

That seemed to snap you out of your sensory overload and you quickly nodded frantically.

“I want this. I want you to fuck me, Jensen.” You sputtered quickly before he could take his offer back.

The moment your consent reached his ears, the beautiful greens of his eyes were eclipsed by the black clouds of lust. He crashed his lips on yours in a bruising kiss that was all teeth and tongue. It was driven by pure lust and need and want and desire.

His hands were on you pushing and pulling and mapping out your entire body. Everything felt too much and not enough at the same time. When the need for air became too much you both parted, panting like you had just ran a marathon. He pushed his partly gloved hands underneath your jumper and pulled it off you leaving your upper body in the black tank top you were wearing.

His mouth moved towards your jaw, nipping and nibbling at the skin there while his hands squeezed your ass. His mouth went to your neck, to the spot behind your ear that drove you wild and sucked. And oh god did he suck hard. You were pretty sure you’d be sporting a big purple hickey but you couldn’t care less.

He kissed the valley of your breasts and suckled one of your clothed nipples as your back arched off the wall and you shamelessly let out a loud moan. He pushed your tank top up as he kneeled down, leaving open mouthed kisses all over your stomach.

He pushed your leggings and your panties down in one go and both of you were shocked. You, to see that your panties hadn’t disintegrated and him, to see how wet you were. He looked up at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and before you could comprehend what it meant, he dove inside your pussy like a starving man.

He let out a groan when he tasted you, gripping your thighs so tight that you were sure there'd be bruises there. You tangled your hands in his hair, keeping him in place but also giving yourself something to hold on to.

All your wet dreams and imaginations didn’t do justice to how delicious the burn of his beard felt between your thighs. He fucked you with his tongue and then went on to suck at your clit like a child sucking an ice lolly after playing for hours in the summer heat.

To say that you were a panting, moaning, whimpering, writhing and blubbering mess would be an understatement. You were at the mercy of this man’s mouth and you thanked your lucky stars for it. One of his hands left your thigh and came to encircle your core. Desperate to come, you started grinding on his face.

He pushed two of his thick fingers in and groaned at how easily they fit cause you were practically dripping at this point. He fucked you on his fingers hard all the while nibbling and sucking your clit. He moved up your body till he was face to face with you all the while thrusting his fingers into you at a merciless pace.

He crashed his lips on yours and pushed his tongue inside your mouth. You moaned at tasting yourself on his tongue. He moved his talented mouth towards your ear and nibbled on the lobe.

“You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel you squeezing my fingers. Come on Y/n. Come for me.” He whispered in your ear.

Like he had a remote control to your body, you came. And you came so hard that you saw stars. Your vision went white, your body went slack and you felt like you were filled to the brim with pleasure.

When you came back to your senses, the first thing you felt was his cock, hard and heavy, lined with your core, your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands on your ass supporting your weight and crushing you between his body and the wall. He looked at you to see if there was any hint of discomfort but when he couldn’t find any, he kissed you while pushing his cock deep inside you.

You had to admit that he was bigger than any guy you’ve been with and the stretch was just oh so good. He kissed you, nibbling on your lower lip til you got used to his girth. You clawed at his shoulders and the now not so short hair at the nape of his neck.

“Fu-uck Jensen. Move please. F-fuck me.” You begged not caring how desperate you sounded.

Jensen let out an animalistic growl upon hearing your words and pulled all the way out, only leaving the tip in and slammed back into you in one thrust. You let out a cry when his cock hit your g-spot with fucking precision.

He kept up his deadly pace, pounding into you so hard you were sure you’d feel it for days, that had the coil in your lower belly wound tight in no time. He hid his face in the crook of your neck. Only the sounds of his heavy breathing and grunts ,which to be honest should be illegal, and your moans and panting could be heard around the large set.

“Look at you,” He grunted in your ear, “taking my cock so good. You’re so tight. Fuck.”

You couldn’t help but clench your pussy hearing those words pouring out of his mouth.

“I’m not gonna last long. Come for me one more time Y/n. Come on my cock. Squeeze it.” He grunted, pushing one of his hands between your bodies and rubbing rough circles on your clit.

You came with a scream of his name. Your orgasm was so fucking intense that you knew in that moment no one will ever be able to make you come so hard other than this man. He fucked you through your orgasm. A few hard thrusts later he stilled deep inside you and came with a grunt that you’d remember till the day you die. He spilled hot ropes of cum and you milked his cock for all its worth.

When you both came down from your highs, you untangled yourselves from each other and cleaned yourselves the best you could. You quickly and quietly got dressed, the air filling with awkwardness.

When you got dressed, you bent down to pick up your stuff which had fallen and turned to leave when suddenly Jensen caught your wrist and turned you around so that now he was caged between you and the wall. He kissed you and it was all sweet and soft this time while you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your body into his.

“Don’t you dare think this was a one time thing. You and me. Dinner at my place at 8. Sounds good?” He asked, sincerely and sweetly.

Your brows furrowed and you opened your mouth to reply but before you could the walkie in your hand came to life and a voice sounded from the other end, “Jensen Ackles is needed now at the wardrobe. Jensen Ackles is needed now at the wardrobe.”

“Looks like I have to go.” Jensen said and pecked your lips once.

He walked backwards and shouted, “My place at 8. Don’t forget.” He gave you a wink before finally going out of your sight.

You stood there confused as to what had just happened in the last hour of your life.

*****

[kythed]

I have a fic request for Kuroo! A childhood friends to lovers situation based off the song Take my Hand by Picture This! (Just a cute song that has been haunting me because Kuroo ❤️)

I have been through and stalked your blog and I love it! I also saw the ficmas prompt list and I’m looking forward to requesting those too!

I hope this is okay and thank you so much! Your stuff is a joy to read! ❤️❤️❤️✨✨✨

take my hand

kuroo tetsurou x reader

hope you enjoy <3

five.

“You’re my best friend,” he tells you, swallowing the heart that keeps straining to burst from his throat, to lay itself at your feet in all its humiliating devotion. “Of course I love you.”

And he does love you, he reassures himself, letting you walk ahead of him. Just not in the way you think he does. He struggles to keep his eyes above your waistline, tearing his gaze from the hem of your skirt and pointedly pinning it to the back of your head, where your hair is loosely tied with a glossy silk ribbon. His efforts succeed for nearly thirty seconds before he again finds his eyes tracing their way down your neck, down your back, down to the arch of your waist and the flare of your hips, relishing the curve of your--

Damn it. He abruptly stops in his tracks, rubbing his eyes until he sees only stars. (Maybe if he rubs his eyes with enough vigor he’ll stop noticing things he shouldn’t notice while looking at his best friend.)

“Tetsu,” you say, turning around with a laugh. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says gruffly, blinking hard.

He’s not fine.

four.

Life is painful when you’re in love with your oldest, dearest friend. Let Kuroo Tetsurou be the first to testify that when you’ve grown up with someone your entire life, when you’ve made the long, tedious trek from diapers to graduation gowns with them, it feels almost sinful to find yourself slipping into daydreams about pressing that person against your wall, about hearing them whisper your name on soft linen sheets, about kissing them breathless and glassy eyed until the sun plunges beneath the horizon with a brazen wink.

He hates himself for staring at you and hoping to catch you staring back. He hates himself for letting your words wash over his head, unheard, in favor of watching the way your lips curve and curl when you speak.

Most of all, he hates himself for loving you so fiercely in a particular way that would surely sour your stomach and send you running.

“I love you too,” you say, waiting for him to catch up and fall into step beside you. You take his hand and lace your fingers with his as you make your way up the street to your house. The windows glow a domestic orange, dimly illuminating the patch of asphalt before your front door.

It’s nearing seven now-- the gentle clinking of silverware and some sort of faint, savory scent from within inform you of dinner’s impending commencement.

“I know,” he says, cracking a crooked smile. You roll your eyes as he brushes a mocking kiss over your knuckles. “I’m hard to hate.”

three.

Most of the summer passes uneventfully, according to Kuroo’s standards. He manages to keep himself in check, even as he spends each and every day with you, dawn til dusk, savoring your presence the way a starving man savors his last ration.

He manages to treat you almost exactly as he’s treated you his entire life-- like a best friend. He tells his silly jokes that make you giggle and groan simultaneously. He pushes you off the pier when you least expect it, howling with laughter as you resurface, sputtering and flinging fiery invective. He shares an earbud with you as he walks downtown with you by his side, arm slung over your shoulder with carefully calculated composure.

He almost makes it to autumn without incident.

The small, hidden moments are what gives him away, though, layered within false nonchalance and easygoing grins like brightly painted matryoshka.

The way his chest constricts almost painfully when you laugh at a pun he’s ad-libbed on the spot, sending a flurry of butterflies freewheeling in the pit of his stomach.

“It really wasn’t that good,” he chuckles, tenderly watching as tears of laughter prick at the corners of your eyes and you grip his forearm in an attempt to steady yourself as giggles rack your body.

“No, it wasn’t,” you agree, struggling to catch your breath. “It was awful, and that’s what made it so funny.”

(He makes about a dozen more puns that day, feeling like he’s won the lottery whenever you so much as smile at his pitiful attempts at wordplay.)

The way his hands tremble when you turn around and ask him to tie your bikini string before you jump into the lake, the way he bites his lip so some horribly incriminating comment about how he really thinks you’d “be better off without the bikini at all” doesn’t slip out from his mouth.

“Thanks Tetsu,” you chirp after he ties the string around the back of your neck in a neat double-knot. You give him a wink and take off towards the water, kicking up sand in the process. “Last one in buys lunch!”

(He was already planning on paying anyways.)

The way he sits up a little straighter when you lean over and slip a hand under his arms to press ‘skip’ on his phone while you listen to his playlist-- you’re so close he can smell your lip balm.

“Sorry,” you say, smiling apologetically. “I don’t really like that band.”

(Later that evening, Kuroo goes through his Spotify and deletes every single song from that band he has on all of his playlists.)

Yes, he manages to keep himself in check outwardly. But inside, he can feel himself digging his grave a little deeper with each passing day. He watches the sands of summer run through his fingers with the dread of a man counting down the days to his funeral.

He just knows that one of these days he’s going to slip.

two.

He’s right, of course. There’s only so much emotional torment one person can humanly endure. It’s just that he’s hoping he can extinguish this inconvenient, one-sided flame before August comes around. Maybe then everything can go back to normal, whatever normal might entail.

Needless to say, Kuroo’s hopes are dashed before summer comes to a close.

It’s a sticky July evening when you and he drive out to an empty parking lot at the edge of town, a blanket and an old transistor radio in tow. You’re wearing a pale yellow sundress that falls to just above your knees-- he’s glad it’s not any shorter, and that the breeze isn’t quite strong enough to lift your hem.

“I think I can see Orion’s belt,” you say, pointing towards somewhere far into the cosmos. Kuroo squints, trying to follow your finger.

“I don’t think that’s Orion,” he says. “Looks like a cat to me.”

The two of you are sitting on a blanket spread across the hood of his car, craning your necks to make out vague shapes in the stars. Between you, slow, muffled music trickles out from the radio’s small speakers, some sort of vintage tune from the forties.

“How in the world are you seeing a cat?” You shake your head, giving him a hard poke on the shoulder. “Looks more like a swarm of astral bees than anything.”

“Astral bees,” he repeats with a laugh. “Laziest constellation interpretation I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s not lazy,” you protest. “It’s accurate.”

Kuroo just smiles and shrugs, sneaking a glance at you. Your face is bathed in milky starlight, eyes wide as you peer up at the cloudless sky with a blend of wonder and appreciation. There’s some competition, but he thinks this might be the prettiest you’ve ever looked in a single moment.

As if you can feel his stare, you turn to catch his gaze. A gentle smile breaks onto your face, and you absentmindedly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with the endearing shyness of a schoolgirl. “What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he says, mirroring your grin. “You just… look nice right now.”

“No, seriously,” you laugh disbelievingly. “Is there something on my face?”

“I am being serious,” Kuroo insists, fidgeting with the blanket beneath his palms. “You look good. Yellow suits you.”

You flush, glancing down at your dress. You bought it two summers back, and he’s seen you in it a million times before. This is the first summer where he’s really seen you, though. “Well, thank you. It’s a warm night, so I figured I was better off in a dress than pants.”

“Yeah,” he says softly, breaking eye contact to squint up at the stars. He grins and points, finger trembling slightly. “I think I can see where you’re coming from, with the bees.”

one.

A staticky, syrupy waltz comes on the radio, bleeding into the cracks in the comfortable silence. You sigh contentedly, leaning back onto the windshield. “I like this song. It’s… nostalgic.”

Kuroo cocks an eyebrow at you. “You’ve heard this before?”

“No,” you laugh, biting the inside of your cheek. “But it reminds me of times gone by, you know? Like, this is the sort of music I imagine playing when a soldier reunites with his wife after the war.”

“When he comes running out of the train and drops his bags on the platform,” Kuroo continues, watching you carefully, “only to sweep his girl off her feet and spin her around wildly.”

You nod, sneaking a glance at him. “You really know me that well, huh?”

“Yeah,” he says, eyes crinkling with humor. “But I get it, too. It has that old fashioned romance thing goin’ on.”

“Mhm,” you agree. You reach over and fiddle with the radio’s volume, turning it up just enough to round out the sound completely.

Kuroo sits for a moment, watching you close your eyes and hum along to the music. Then, a sudden boldness taking the reins, he hops off the hood and walks over to you, extending his hand. “Take it.”

“What?”

“Take my hand,” he insists, so you do, gingerly placing your palm atop his. “We’re going to dance.”

“Oh, no,” you laugh, nonetheless letting him help you down from the car and resting a hand on his shoulder. He lightly places his own on your waist, leading you out into the parking lot. “You know I can’t dance.”

“I can’t either,” he reminds you. “But I want to dance with you right now.”

As you begin to sway slightly to the music, Kuroo pulls you a little closer to his chest, letting his chin brush the top of your head. “Why are you into that whole idea?”

“What idea?” you ask quietly, letting him lead you in slow circles around the lot.

“The idea of an old fashioned love.”

“Oh,” you say, laughing as Kuroo spins you in his arms, catching you before you stumble. “I’m not sure… maybe because it seems more constant than love today. Like, today, if you tell someone you love them, it’s a compliment, not a promise. But back then, it was a vow. It meant something.”

Kuroo swallows, looking down at you. His heartbeat pounds in his ears, threatening to burst out of his temples. I’m about to do something I might regret.

zero.

“I need you to do something for me,” he says, voice low and thick with caution. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Please,” he says, voice breaking. He knows that if he doesn’t do this now, he never will. You look beautiful to him in this moment, dancing with him in the empty parking lot to the faint melody of an old waltz. Your eyes glisten with life, your lips gently parted, hair slightly curling over your cheeks.

You roll your eyes once but nonetheless close them obediently, relying a little more on his arms to steady you. He swallows. “Okay. So, imagine we’re living in the 1940s.”

“Okay,” you say, smiling slightly. “I’m imagining.”

“Imagine I enlisted in the war, and I just got back home. Imagine you’re waiting for me at the train station.”

“Mhmm,” you say, trying your best to envision the platform. “You look good in that uniform, Tetsu.”

He chuckles. “I look good in anything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, squeezing his hand. “Get on with it.”

“Imagine I come sprinting out from the train and you’re waiting there with open arms. This song is playing on the platform speakers. I ask you to dance just like we are now.” Kuroo watches you grin, feeling his heart flutter. “Then, imagine I tell you something.”

Unconsciously, you shift closer to him, almost pressing your body flush to his. A breath hitches in his throat. “What do you tell me?”

He leans down, brushes his lips against your ear. “I love you.”

You open your eyes, head cocked, slight confusion cloaking your features. “You mean, like…?”

Kuroo shakes his head. “No. I mean, like, I love you. Not just in a friend way. In that old fashioned way you were talking about. I love everything about you. I’m in love with everything about you.”

“Tetsu…” you breathe, searching his face. He gazes down at you seriously, not a trace of humor tainting his stare. He takes a deep breath.

“I love the way your hair falls in the summer. I love your stupid, annoying laugh. I love how your hand fits in mine. I love the way you rant about anything and everything and expect me to listen, and I do because I can’t help but get excited about what you get excited about. I love you like a soldier loves his wife,” he says, the words flowing out like a river bursting from a dam. “I love you so much it hurts, and it scares me, and I’m sorry if this ruins stuff between us, but I just had to--”

“Shut up.”

He blinks, mouth gaping. “I-- what?”

“I said,” you whisper, gripping the back of his neck and guiding his face down to yours. “Shut up, Tetsu. You talk too much.”

Then suddenly you’re kissing him, and he can’t believe it, but he kisses you back like it’s what he was born to do. He lets you crash your lips into his and watches as shooting stars burst forth and the planets align. Somehow, your hands find their way up into his hair, tangling themselves in his dark locks, and his own travel down to your lower back, pulling you as close as humanly possible, so tightly he never wants to let go. He revels in the warmth of your skin, the icy, tingly sensation of your lips, and when you pull back, it’s all he can do to refrain from pulling you right back in again.

There’s a brief silence. His lips are swollen, his lungs are devoid of air. “I… wow. Just, wow.”

You grin wickedly, slipping your hand into his. “I’ve been waiting to do that for a while now.”

“You have?” he asks, eyes wide in disbelief. “I didn’t notice.”

“Of course you didn’t,” you laugh. “You were too worried about not letting me notice you staring at my ass every chance you got.”

Kuroo flushes but gives a sheepish smile, massaging the back of his neck. “You know, I really thought I was being smooth about it.”

--

As it turns out, you love him back. And not just in the best friend way. You love everything about him, his stupid jokes, his loud, booming laugh, his teasing, his smile, his successes and his failures. You love how your hand fits in his. You love that it took him years and years to admit to himself that he loved you, too.

Kuroo Tetsurou may not be the smoothest guy in the world, but he’s certainly the only one you want. And you’re certainly the only one he wants.

And that’s really the most you could ever ask for.

[usuallyapirate]

A short Introduction to the most common Player-Races in Dungeons and Dragons as given by the DnD 5e Players Handbook:

Dwarf

“Yer late,elf!” came the rough edge of a familiar voice. Bruenor Battlehammer walked up the back of his dead foe, disregarding the fact that the heavy monster lay on top of his elven friend. In spite of the added discomfort, the dwarf’s long, pointed, often-broken nose and gray-streaked though still-fiery red beard came as a welcome sight to Drizzt. “Knew I’d find ye in trouble if I came out an' looked for ye!" 

– R.A. Salvatore, The Crysta lShard

Kingdoms rich in ancient grandeur, halls carved into the roots of mountains, the echoing of picks and hammers in deep mines and blazing forges, a commitment to clan and tradition, and a burning hatred of goblins and orcs—these common threads unite all dwarves.

Elf

“I HAVE NEVER IMAGINED SUCH BEAUTY EXISTED,” Goldmoon said softly. The day’s march had been difficult, but the reward at the end was beyond their dreams. The companions stood on a high cliff over the fabled city of Qualinost. Four slender spires rose from the city’s corners like glistening spindles, their brilliant white stone marbled with shining silver. Graceful arches, swooping from spire to spire, soared through the air. Crafted by ancient dwarven metalsmiths, they were strong enough to hold the weight of an army, yet they appeared so delicate that a bird lighting on them might overthrow the balance. These glistening arches were the city’s only boundaries; there was no wall around Qualinost. The elven city opened its arms lovingly to the wilderness.

 – Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman, Dragons of Autumn Twilight

Elves are a magical people of otherworldly grace, living in the world but not entirely part of it. They live in places of ethereal beauty, in the midst of ancient forests or in silvery spires glittering with faerie light, where soft music drifts through the air and gentle fragrances waft on the breeze. Elves love nature and magic, art and artistry, music and poetry, and the good things of the world.

Halfling

Regis the halfling, the only one of his kind for hundreds of miles in any direction, locked his fingers behind his head and leaned back against the mossy blanket of the tree trunk. Regis was short, even by the standards of his diminutive race, with the fluff of his curly brown locks barely cresting the three-foot mark, but his belly was amply thickened by his love of a good meal, or several, as the opportunities presented themselves. The crooked stick that served as his fishing pole rose up above him, clenched between two of his toes, and hung out over the quiet lake, mirrored perfectly in the glassy surface of Maer Dualdon. 

– R.A. Salvatore, The Crystal Shard

The comforts of home are the goal of most halflings‘ lives: a place to settle in peace and quiet, far from marauding monsters and clashing armies; a blazing fire and a generous meal; fine drink and fine conversation. Though some halflings live out their days in remote agricultural communities, others form nomadic bands that travel constantly, lured by the open road and the wide horizon to discover the wonders of new lands and peoples. But even these wanderers love peace, food, hearth, and home, though home might be a wagon jostling along a dirt road or a raft floating downriver.

Human

These were the stories of a restless people who long ago took to the seas and rivers in longboats, first to pillage and terrorize, then to settle. Yet there was an energy, a love of adventure, that sang from every page. Long into the night Uriel read, lighting candle after precious candle. She'd never given much thought to humans, but these stories fascinated her. In these yellowed pages were tales of bold heroes, strange and fierce animals, mighty primitive gods, and a magic that was part and fabric of that distant land. 

– Elaine Cunningham, Daughter of the Drow

In the reckonings of most worlds, humans are the youngest of the common races, late to arrive on the world scene and short-lived in comparison to dwarves, elves, and dragons. Perhaps it is because of their shorter lives that they strive to achieve as much as they can in the years they are given. Or maybe they feel they have something to prove to the elder races, and that’s why they build their mighty empires on the foundation of conquest and trade. Whatever drives them, humans are the innovators, the achievers, and the pioneers of the worlds.

Dragonborn

Her father stood on the first of the three stairs that led down from the portal, unmoving. The scales of his face had grown paler around the edges, but Clanless Mehen still looked as if he could wrestle down a dire bear himself. His familiar well-worn armor was gone, replaced by violet-tinted scale armor with bright silvery tracings. There was a blazon on his arm as well, the mark of some foreign house. The sword at his back was the same, though, the one he had carried since even before he had found the twins left in swaddling at the gates of Arush Vayem. Father’s face was as kill she'd been fortunate to learn. A human who couldn’t spot the shift of her eyes or Havilar’s would certainly see only the indifference of a dragon in Clanless Mehen’s face. But the shift of scales, the arch of a ridge, the set of his eyes, the gape of his teeth – her father's face spoke volumes. But every scale of it, this time, seemed completely still— the indifference of a dragon, even to Farideh.

– Erin M. Evans, The Adversary

Born of dragons, as their name proclaims, the dragonborn walk proudly through a world that greets them with fearful incomprehension. Shaped by draconic gods or the dragons themselves, dragonborn originally hatched from dragon eggs as a unique race, combining the best attributes of dragons and humanoids. Some dragonborn are faithful servants to true dragons, others form the ranks of soldiers in great wars, and still others find themselves adrift, with no clear calling in life.

Gnome

Skinny and flaxen-haired, his skin walnut brown and his eyes a startling turquoise, Burgell stood half as tall as Aeron climb up on a stool to look out the peephole. Like most habitations in Oeble, that particula tenement had been built for humans, and smaller residents coped with the resulting awkwardness as best they could. But at least the relative largeness of the apartment gave Burgell room to pack in all his gnome-sized gear. The front room was his workshop, and it contained a bewildering miscellany of tools: hammers, chisels, saws, lockpicks, tinted lenses, jeweler's loupes, and jars of powdered and shredded ingredients for casting spells. A fat gray cat, the mage’s familiar, lay curled atop a grimoire. It opened its eyes, gave Aeron a disdainful yellow stare, then appeared to go back to sleep. 

– Richard Lee Byers, The Black Bouquet

A constant hum of busy activity pervades the warrens and neighborhoods where gnomes form their close-knit communities. Louder sounds punctuate the hum: a crunch of grinding gears here, a minor explosion there, a yelp of surprise or triumph, and especially bursts of laughter. Gnomes take delight in life, enjoying every moment of invention, exploration, investigation, creation, and play.

Half-Elf

Flint squinted into the setting sun. He thought he saw the figure of a man striding up the path. Standing, Flint drew back into the shadow of a tall pine to see better. The man's walk was marked by an easy grace – an elvish grace, Flint would have said; yet the man’s body had the thickness and tight muscles of a human, while the facial hair was definitely humankind’s. All the dwarf could see of the man’s face beneath a green hood was tan skin and a brownish-red beard. A longbow was slung over one shoulder and a sword hung at his left side. He was dressed in soft leather, carefully tooled in the intricate designs the elves loved. But no elf in the world of Krynn could grow a beard ... no elf, but...

“Tanis?” said Flint hesitantly as the man neared.

“The same.” The newcomer’s bearded face split in a wide grin. He held open his arms and, before the dwarf could stop him, engulfed Flint in a hug that lifted him off the ground. The dwarf clasped his old friend close for a brief instant, then, remembering his dignity, squirmed and freed himself from the half-elf’s embrace. 

– Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman, Dragons of Autumn Twilight

Walking in two worlds but truly belonging to neither, half-elves combine what some say are the best qualities of their elf and human parents: human curiosity, inventiveness, and ambition tempered by the refined senses, love of nature, and artistic tastes of the elves. Some half-elves live among humans, set apart by their emotional and physical differences, watching friends and loved ones age while time barely touches them. Others live with the elves, growing restless as they reach adulthood in the timeless elven realms, while their peers continue to live as children. Many half-elves, unable to fit into either society, choose lives of solitary wandering or join with other misfits and outcasts in the adventuring life.

Half-Orc

The warchief Mhurren roused himself from his sleeping-furs and his women and pulled a short hauberk of heavy steel rings over his thick, well-muscled torso. He usually rose before most of his warriors, since he had a strong streak of human blood in him, and he found the daylight less bothersome than most of his tribe did. Among the Bloody Skulls, a warrior was judged by his strength, his fierceness, and his wits. Human ancestry was no blemish against a warrior – provided he was every bit as strong, enduring, and blood thirsty as his full-blooded kin. Half-orcs who were weaker than their orc comrades didn't last long among the Bloody Skulls or any other orc tribe for that matter. But it was often true that a bit of human blood gave a warrior just the right mix of cunning, ambition, and self-discipline to go far indeed, as Mhurren had. He was master of a tribe that could muster two thousand spears, and the strongest chief in Thar. 

– Richard Baker, Swordmage

Whether united under the leadership of a mighty warlock or having fought to a standstill after years of conflict, orc and human tribes sometimes form alliances, joining forces into a larger horde to the terror of civilized lands nearby. When these alliances are sealed by marriages, half-orcs are born. Some half-orcs rise to become proud chiefs of orc tribes, their human blood giving them an edge over their full-blooded orc rivals. Some venture into the world to prove their worth among humans and other more civilized races. Many of these become adventurers, achieving greatness for their mighty deeds and notoriety for their barbaric customs and savage fury.

Tiefling

“But you do see the way people look at you, devil’s child." Those black eyes, cold as a winter storm, were staring right into her heart and the sudden seriousness in his voice jolted her.

“What is it they say?" he asked. “One’s a curiosity, two’s a conspiracy—”

“Three's a curse,” she finished. “You think I haven’t heard that rubbish before?”

“I know you have.” When she glared at him, he added, “It’s not as if I’m plumbing the depths of your mind, dear girl. That is the burden of every tiefling. Some break under it, some make it the millstone around their neck, some revel in it.” He tilted his head again, scrutinizing her, with that wicked glint in hiseyes. “You fight it, don’t you? Like a little wildcat, I wager. Every little jab and comment just sharpens your claws.” 

– Erin M. Evans, Brimstone Angels

To be greeted with stares and whispers, to suffer violence and insult on the street, to see mistrust and fear in every eye: this is the lot of the tiefling. And to twist the knife, tieflings know that this is because a pact struck generations ago infused the essence of Asmodeus – overlord of the Nine Hells – into their bloodline. Their appearance and their nature are not their fault but the result of an ancient sin, for which they and their children and their children’s children will always be held accountable.

[hockey-hoe-24-7]

Blue Lace, feat. Vince Dunn

Warnings: Smut, can’t really think of anything else

Length: 2.6k

This wasn’t a good idea. You thought it could have been. But it wasn’t. It had been 3 days ago but now...not so much. As you stared at yourself in the mirror, you went back and forth between the two voices in your head, aka your two roommates. 

Omg, Y/N, he’ll love it. Andrew tore mine off me in 30 seconds.

I don’t know...Ben laughed when he saw me. I mean, he liked it but he laughed. 

They were talking, of course, about surprising their SO’s with sexy lingerie. Sarah has a good experience with her boyfriend, but Lisa...not so much. Two completely different stories left you very conflicted as you stood in front of the mirror, staring at the brand new pair of blue lace lingerie you had on. 

You had only been officially dating Vince for about two months, so you didn’t really know how he’d react. You known him for about five months before through the aforementioned roomies, who had a lot of players on different teams as friends. 

When you had take Sarah and Lisa on as roommates, you had no idea what you were getting yourself into. It was a common occurrence to see hockey players, especially Blues players, lounging in your apartment on any given weeknight, or drinking your alcohol on a weekend.  

You had always been too busy to really stop and join and for a while there you were the quiet roommate who worked all the time, paid most of the rent, and supplied the never ending stream of booze. It was convenient when you were trying to avoid a certain defenseman that you had a not so subtle crush on. You had been successful until the one weekend you had off, your roommates had been hosting yet another get together and they had cornered you in your room, all but dragging you out by your hair. Of course, your living room was filled to the brim with hockey players, a gorgeous defenseman in the middle of the chaos with a beer in his hand. When he saw you and gave you a cheeky smile, patting the spot next to you with his free hand. A pinch in the ass and a shove from Lisa had you tumbling on the couch next to him.

You two had fallen into easy conversation, the rest of the room melting away until it was just you two, heads bent together as you talked about anything and everything.  Before you knew it, it was 3 AM and you were the only two left in the room. Based on what you knew about him, you thought for sure he was going to try to talk his way into your bed, but he left you with a knowing smile and a “good night.” You thought for sure that would be the last intimate interaction you had with him, but he was calling you late the next morning for breakfast. Breakfast had turned into lunch, lunch had turned into drinks, and drinks into dinner.  He asked you on an official date that weekend and the rest was history.

Since your relationship was still relatively new, the two of you were having sex with frankly alarming frequency. You were still learning new things about each other, and you had gained enough confidence in yourself to try something new. Hence, standing in a pair of blue lingerie that cost you an arm and a leg. Your phone buzzed again.

“We need better lighting. Take a picture in the living room next to that one lamp.”

Rolling your eyes, you snatched up your phone and robe and made your way to living room. You were standing beneath the lamp, your phone set up against the wall for a full body shot when you heard the front door click open.

Shit.

You had been so excited about the lingerie you had forgotten to lock the door when you came home from the store.

Sarah was in Baltimore visiting family and Lisa was in Colorado for a business trip so....jesus christ someone was breaking in. Where the fuck was your robe?

Lunging across the couch, you grabbed your robe and flailed around desperately to put it on as the door swung open. You were going to have some dignity if you were beaten up and mugged.

“Babe?”

The male voice sent your heart to your throat, but it was followed by a crushing relief when you recognized it as Vince’s. Your boyfriend was standing in your doorway, his expression turning to one of shock and surprise when he got an eyeful of your outfit. 

Your throat still thick with residual panic, you glared at him as you fumbled to tie the belt of your robe.

“Do you fucking knock?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, his mouth still slack. Grabbing a pillow from the couch, you hurled it at him. He dodged it with the easy grace of a professional athlete.

“What’re you wearing?”

“We’re not over the heart attack you nearly gave me.”

“It won’t happen again. What the fuck were you just wearing?”

You crossed your arms over your chest and gulped, trying to maintain your stern demeanor and keep your eyes away from the growing erection beneath his sweatpants.

“Don’t worry about it.”

His devilish cat-caught-the-canary smile made your legs go weak. 

Not taking his eyes off of you, he closed the door behind him, turning the lock. “We both know that’s not happening, baby girl.”

You stood up straighter, but you both knew he had you. You were nothing in the face of any of of his seductions. Your nipples beading against the lace and arousal pooling between your legs, you decided not to fight it.

“I got you a gift.”

His eyebrows shot up as he began to round the couch. “What did I do to deserve a gifts?”

You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant as you backed away, keeping pace with him so he never got any closer to you. “You’ve played really well these past few weeks.”

He nodded. “Can’t argue with that.” Cocky bastard.

His eyes were hooded as he advanced on you. “Take off your robe.”

You shrugged again, your power in the situation going straight to your head. “Hmmmmm I’m not sure. You gave me quite a fright there. I don’t think you deserve your gift anymore.”

His eyebrows shot up a second time in surprise and he grinned as his cock twitched. You had never challenged him like that before.

“Y/N.” A warning.

“Hm?”

The two of you were still moving. “Do you like that robe?” He asked. “Yes, actually. Very much so,” you answered casually.

“Then I imagine you want it to remain in one piece, which it won’t if you make me tear it off you.”

You bit your lip and you could practically feel your eyes dilate with a flood of arousal. Both of you stilled, the air thick with sex and anticipation.

Suddenly, he was moving, lunging forward with an arm outstretched. You squealed and leapt out of his reach, taking off down the hallway toward your bedroom. You heard him thunder after you and he caught you in no time, swinging you up off your feet like you weighed nothing. He threw you down on your bed and you laughed giddily, making a half-hearted effort to get away. He shackled your ankle and dragged you back toward him, fisting your robe and pulling you onto your back. You put up a valiant effort to resist, but his weight and strength dwarfed yours. Manacling your wrists above your head, he straddled your hips, your breath leaving your chest on a deep exhale. 

He leaned down and kissed you hard and deep. You groaned and tried to arch into him, every part of your desperate after the long separation you had just endured. After an eternal moment, he nipped your lip and pulled back, his mouth ghosting over yours. “May I?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. He thanked you with another quick kiss before pulling away, moving himself off of you and between your thighs, wrapping your legs around his hips. His hands steady and his cock hard against the inside of your thigh, he undid the belt of your robe with agonizing slowness. You made yourself lay there, even though every part of you wanted to beg to have him inside you again.

As he pushed your robe off, he groaned, his cock jerking against your leg as he slowly drank in the sight of you. “Jesus...fuck, baby.” You didn’t blame him for his reaction. All elaborate lace and straps that accentuated every feminine curve you had, you knew you looked good. But there was still a nagging feeling in the back of your head that had you asking: “Do you like it?”

His expression as he looked up at you was almost comical. “Do I like it? Christ, baby, I fucking love it.” His eyes flared with heat again. “Want me to show you how much I love it?” Catching your lip between your teeth you nodded.

You kept your legs tight around his hips as he leaned over you, bracing his arms on either side of your head. He took your mouth in another kiss, but this one was soft and slow, teasing. He knew how desperate you were for him, how easily he could make you do what he wanted. He could torture you any way he pleased and you would beg for it. Tightening your legs around him, you rolled your hips, smiling to yourself when you felt his hips involuntary jerk into you.

Pulling his mouth from yours, he kissed down your jaw to your throat. Craning your neck, you shoved your hands beneath his sweater, silently urging him for skin on skin. He complied, raising himself off of you just long enough to shed his sweatshirt before coming back to nip at your shoulder. As he moved lower, you ran your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp in that way you knew he liked so much. When he reached your breasts, he kissed along the scalloped edge of your lace bra, letting his tongue lick along your skin every so often. When he lapped gently at one beaded nipple you whimpered, tightening your grip in his hair.

“You like that, baby?” he purred, looking up to meet your eyes. You gulped and nodded, feeling no shame. You gasped as he pushed two fingers beneath your panties and inside of you. “Jesus, you’re wet. Did you miss me?”

You nodded quickly again and he grinned. He curled the two fingers inside of you and you cried out as he hit your g-spot. Pulling his fingers out of you just as quickly, he moved back to your breasts, sucking one lace covered nipple into his mouth. Crying out his name, you arched into him again, pressing his head down with urgent hands. Lapping at one nipple, he massaged the other with a callused hand. Pulling back for a brief moment, he dragged the lace cup of your bra down so his mouth was unobstructed.

“God, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice thick. “This lingerie is driving me fucking crazy.”

You let out a throat exhale of a laugh. “That was kind of the point.”

He laughed against your breast, a gravelly sound, before gently biting down on your nipple. Then he was moving again, kissing and nipping down your abdomen, his hands grazing over the intricate leather straps of the lingerie set. When he reached the delicate waistband of the lace panties, he took his time teasing you with light brushes of his lips everywhere but where you needed him.

“Vince...” He laughed breathily at the edge of desperation in your voice. He sunk his teeth into the mound right above your clit and you rolled your hips in silent reply, digging your nails into his bare shoulders in a silent plea for more.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmured against the lace, dropping another quick kiss above your clit. “I know what you need.” With that, he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, ducked his head, and jerked your panties to the side, exposing you to him. He cursed again before pressing a long, open mouthed kiss to your seam, letting his tongue dip insigde of you. His name was a sharp cry, you hands tunneling through his hair again. Your thighs clenched around his head but he easily pried them apart, anchoring you to the bed with a forearm across your hips. He ate you greedily, his hand moving across you hip to roughly massage your clit.

As you felt yourself reaching your high, you slapped a hand over your mouth, a habit you had gotten into a long time ago. His mouth still between your legs, Vince’s hand shot up and he roughly dragged your hand from your mouth just as your orgasm hit you. You came with another cry of his name, your back arching wildly off the bed as he lapped at you through your peak. You shuddered as you came down, your hips still rolling against his mouth.

You didn’t have to time to recover before he lunged up your body and took your mouth in a bruising kiss, your taste still lingering on his lips. You threw your arms around his shoulders and granted him the control you knew he wanted. “Not done yet, baby,” he growled against your mouth.

You gasped as he wrapped his arms around your waist and hauled you up, your chest colliding. Keeping you tight to him with an easy strength, he moved to sit at the edge of the bed, you straddling him. As you reached in between your bodies and fumbled with the drawstring of his sweatpants, he grabbed the delicate lace front of your bra and dragged them down, taking one nipple into his mouth. You had just managed to pull him out of his sweats when his hands came between your bodies, followed by a loud ripping sound that sent another shot of arousal through you. Pushing your body up, he guided himself inside of you, both of you groaning long and loud at the familiar sensation. His mouth on yours again, you both gave a tentative roll of your hips, adjusting after being away from each other for so long. You gasped into his mouth, still sensitive from your first orgasm.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” he ordered, palming your hips with his hands. You did as you were told, bracing yourself against his shoulders as he picked up his pace, dragging your hips back and forth to meet the thrust of his own. You allowed him complete control as he settled on an urgent pace that brought you higher and higher. Whimpering, you buried your face in his throat, arms right around his shoulders. As his pace became sloppier, his thrusts deeper and longer, he reached in between your bodies again and grabbed your clit. You opened your mouth on a silent cry as you came for the second time. Vince was right there with you, his hips snapping up into yours, his face buried in your chest. As your bodies trembled through the aftermath, you laid a long kiss to the skin of his throat, his pulse strong against your touch. He made a contented sound, craning his head back lazily for you. Kissing your way up his jaw, you smiled against his mouth. “I missed you.”

That earned you a lazy smile. “I missed you too.” An arm around your shoulders had you leaning in for another long, sweet kiss.

“And I enjoyed my gift very much,” he continued, running his finger along the edge of one bra cup. You smiled. “Oh yeah?”

Another kiss. “Oh yeah. I think we need a new rule: I get this gift every time I come home.”

You snorted in response. “Keep playing well, mister. Then we’ll see.”

“Yes ma’am.”

[procrastination-queenie]

Baby | JJK

Pairing: husband!au Jeon Jungkook x Wife!au reader.

Warning: c-section surgery, nothing too detailed. Baby fever. Very slight mention of smut. Fluff. The reader is a foreigner. Mentions of cultural differences.

The part written in italics is a flashback

Synopsis: You and Jungkook agreed not to have babies right away after your marriage, yet you find yourself witnessing a cute situation that leaves you thinking otherwise.

A/N: I am begging you guys for the gazillion time to please let me know what you think. Thanks in advance.😊

Word count: 4,178.

This part can be read as a continuation to Marry you.

Babies! Oh God! You cannot express how fed up you were because of that word. After you and Jungkook got married, your family members had nothing to talk about to you except babies. It's like they were pressuring you, well scratch that, they were, but unconsciously though. You couldn't blame them. You grew up in a culture that was not really open to the idea of "we are gonna wait a few years until we feel like we're ready."! Yeah, this ideology does not exist!

"Wait until when? I am not living more than I already am!" Your grandma would say, or "wait for what? Are you still getting to know each other after a five-year relationship?" Your grandpa would scoff, and your favourite one was "Hunny, are you kidding? You'll never be ready! No one is ever really ready! … You think me and my sister had you, kids, because we were ready?" Your auntie would say in disbelief laughing lightly at your logic with said sister, your mum, sitting next to her shaking her head in disappointment with a "can you believe her?" murmured in annoyance.

You didn't have the heart to blame your family that's how they were raised for generations, and for you to try and change their mind-set would be difficult, almost impossible. That is until you and Jungkook refused to talk upon the matter anymore saying that this is your life and you're free to do whatever you both agree on, only then did they stop nagging you; however, you knew they were not happy about it.

Jungkook on the other hand never really minded the idea of babies, in fact, if you told him that you were ready, he would gladly help you right away, if you know what I mean, but knowing your concerns, not only did he comfort you, but also respected that you were not there yet, mentally. You would always tell him "I sometimes think that I am still a baby, myself. How can I have one when I think like that!" He would chuckle, patting your head and cuddling you closely "Baby, it's okay. We don't need to have one right now! Why are you so worried about it?" He asked looking down at you since he was resting his chin on your head. "I mean, aren't you bothered about it? Don't you want to have your own child?" You pouted thinking that maybe you're holding one of Jungkook's wishes back which can make you feel that you're not good enough for him. "Well, baby, of course, I want a child, but I want to have it with you, and if you're not ready that's totally fine! I mean when I think about it, it is a huge deal, you're going to house a human being in your body for 9 long months, and your body would go through drastic changes, plus you'd have to not only take care of yourself but the baby growing inside you, as well!" Jungkook cradled you to his chest moving aside a lock of your hair behind your ear. "It's all amazing, but you're the one who's carrying a baby, I would never pressure you to do that if you're not ready!" He said looking into your eyes sincerely. "Oh, I love you so much!" You said giving him a few repetitive pecks on his lips. "How did I end up with such an amazing man!" Your lips barely meeting his, whispering before you closed the small gap between you, kissing him with all the passion and love you held for this wonderful husband of yours.

That all changed when one day you were at the hairdresser's getting a new hair cut. You were looking through your phone waiting for your turn until you noticed a woman entering the shop. She had this unusual aura to her, like something about her seemed to interest you, she walked around as if she had accomplished something amazing but wouldn't brag about it as if to let her accomplishment speak for itself. You understood why you felt that because minutes later, two identical accomplishments followed her suit. They were two identical boys who were probably 4 or 5 years of age. You were in awe when you saw them following their mummy, like lost puppies. They resembled her greatly, and behaved very well as if their mum promised to buy them Disneyland if they did. They stood next to her looking up at her as if she is their whole world.

For a moment you imagined that with Jungkook, and what would it feel like to have a baby in both of your lives. How would it feel to have a child of your own looking at you the way these boys looked at their mum.

For weeks to follow, you were almost obsessed with the twin boys you saw at the hair salon. How they dressed, how they behaved, how they sat obediently eating their sweets waiting for their mum to finish, how their mother would look at them through the mirror every once in a while to check on them, how they cutely complimented her saying that "mummy is the prettiest girl ever!" With wide eyes looking up in amazement and cute small sticky fingers from the sweets reaching up in the air in excitement. The whole thing kept repeating over and over in your head which led you to look up some photos of babies and reading more about them and what's new in the parenting world that parents try and apply with their kids. You even reached the point where you would stop at the babies section, racking through cute onesies, making Jungkook arch an eyebrow in amazement. "Are you pregnant or something?" He would ask eyeing your belly before looking up at your face trying to see what's going on inside your head. You would shake your head slightly before reluctantly letting go of the tiny baby clothes and taking Jungkook's hand to move to another department of the store.

Jungkook, too, could feel a change in your behaviour, like how you would gaze longingly at kids playing at the park when you had your picnics there, how you would pause to listen to a show that talks about babies and how to care for them, he even caught you reading a book about pregnancy. His heart skipped a beat when you went to visit your brother after his wife delivered a healthy baby girl; you kept holding her the whole time refusing to let anyone hold her unless it was your brother's wife because she needed to feed her. He even took a photo of you, you were looking at your niece so lovingly when you looked up at Jungkook smiling brightly as if she was your own. He put it as a background for his phone.

"Yaaah! If you want a baby that bad make one of your own!" Yoongi yelled playfully at Jungkook who wouldn't stop looking at the photo. "Ay! Don't pressure the kid." Namjoon said looking disappointedly at Yoongi for saying that. "Well, there's no pressure. It's just … I don't know y/n has been acting weird lately!" He took a last look at his phone's background before it displayed his worried features as he closed the screen. "What do you mean weird?" Jimin asked looking at Jungkook quizzically. "I don't know… it's… she'd stare at baby clothes when we go shopping even though there's no one we know who's going to give birth soon. I mean I could have brushed it off thinking that she wants to buy some as a gift or something, but no." Jungkook ruffled his black locks resting his elbows on his knees. "And you know she looks at them as if … as if she's imaging them on a certain baby, not the way she'd look at them as if inspecting the design or something, do you understand what I mean?" He looked up at his hyungs waiting for a confirmation that he's not imagining things. Namjoon nodded "you mean she inspecting the clothes as if she's buying it for her own baby, not just going through them?"

"YES!"Taehyung jumped at Jungkook's sudden outburst. "Sorry Hyung!" Jungkook muttered to Taehyung before focusing on Namjoon again. "Well, it's easy she wants a baby!" Hobi said shrugging and looking at Jungkook as if he's dumb and that this was as obvious as the sun. "No shit Sherlock! I know that. It's just she never said anything about it ." Jungkook was bewildered he didn't understand your sudden change of attitude, and if you had a change of heart about having a baby, then why didn't you tell him? "Just talk to her about it. See if she's ready or not, maybe she is, but something is holding her back, you never know!" Jin said patting Jungkook on the back. "we are definitely having a talk." Jungkook sighed lighting up his phone's screen to look lovingly at your photo holding your niece.

"Baby, you home?" Jungkook looked around the house for you while taking off his shoes and closing the door. "In here!" You answered from your bedroom. You heard his footsteps on the stairs knowing very well from the sound of it that he was skipping some. You rolled your eyes at your husband's child-like behaviour. "BABE!" He suddenly opened the door to your room, a huge smirk on his face as he stepped slowly towards you. "What? What's wrong? Why are you giving me that look?" You looked him up and down as if he's gone mental. Out of nowhere, he pounced on you like a cat making you put your book aside as you squirmed beneath him. "Oh my God, Kook get off. What's wrong with you!" You started laughing because he started leaving small pecks on your neck, and it was ticklish. "Tell me!" He suddenly stopped and looked into your eyes. "Tell you what?" You searched his face thinking that he might be drunk. "Tell me what you're not telling me!" He said, face getting closer to yours as you backed yours from his. "Are you drunk?" You said laughing, again. He was being unusual. "Nah, I am not. I just want to know what's wrong. Lately, you've been acting weird as if you're hiding something." He claimed as he sat beside you, taking you in his arms as your upper half laid on his bent knee; this was your position when you both had deep talks, he'd let you rest your back on his bent knee as he held you closely, usually playing with your hair locks. "You keep on checking baby clothes whenever we go shopping, you're reading a book about pregnancy and parenting, you listen to anything related to babies on the T.V. are you not telling me something?" He asked with concern filling his doe eyes as he caressed your cheek. "I … I've..." You sighed closing your eyes; words were not getting out of your mouth. "What? What is it baby? You can tell me." His thumb brushed your cheek in a soft motion encouraging you to speak up. "I … I want a baby." You said out of nowhere and looked at Jungkook to see his reaction. "Well, baby that's great. You know I don't mind, then what stopped you from telling me?" Jungkook flashed you his bunny smile, happy to know that you're ready to take this step with him. "It... It's just, you know I have been reading about it, pregnancy and stuff." He nodded, a sign for you to go on. "And it's all great and everything, but what if something went wrong?" You looked worriedly into your husband's confused eyes. "Like what if I have a miscarriage? What if something happens to the baby? Like what if …"

"Hold on, hold on … baby why are you trying to predict everything? Why can't you focus on the positive side?" He said trying to calm your raging thoughts. "What if my body is not strong enough to have a baby?"

"Baby,nooo!" Jungkook pulled you closer into his arms. "No, none of this is going to happen, we are going to keep checking up with a doctor, and everything will be fine. I'll always be by your side." He said pulling your head under his chin, then he pulled back to look you in the eyes, "and even if something happens, We will go through it together. I know it will be harder for you, but I swear that there's nothing in this life that could be offered to help you lessen your pain that I won't do it." He whispered sincerely, holding your face between his big warm hands. You hugged him tightly, "I love you so much, I don't even know what I did to deserve you!" You said crying over the fact that a man like Jungkook existed, a man who's willing to do anything for you. "Ah, baby I love you, too so much. I don't want you to doubt us or the future. You know why?" He chuckled feeling you shake your head. "Because the future is never guaranteed, but the only thing that is guaranteed is us, and I know that we're strong enough to face anything life throws at us, together." He said hugging you tighter. "Okay, baby?" He pulled back to look at you. You nodded as he wiped away your tears. "Now, about that baby..." He smirked as you laughed at his goofiness. He always knew how to make you laugh. Always.

Now fast forward a few years, you and Jungkook are parents now. It didn't take that long to get pregnant thanks to Jungkook's stamina. Your pregnancy went on smoothly and nothing bad happened. Just as Jungkook promised, he was always right there for you, for everything; from the moment you both found out, to birth-giving, till now. Speaking of which, the poor thing was so terrified when he knew that your doctor would perform a C-section and that you wouldn't be giving birth naturally.

"Is she supposed to be awake during the surgery?" Jungkook worriedly asked the doctor as he could see that the medication they have given you were not putting you to sleep. "Oh don't worry, Mr Jeon. She won't feel a thing, we drugged the part that we will be working on, and it's normal for her to be awake." Your Doctor smiled kindly at him knowing that this was his first time undergoing something like this. Jungkook was dressed in scrubs holding your hand to keep you from panicking, the doctor also hung up something like a sheet in front of you so you won't see them perform the surgery. "Are you okay?" Jungkook whispered, trying to make small conversation with you as you kept looking at him. You nodded still looking at him as he was getting more anxious by the minute because of your intense staring, "Jungkook why are you panicking, I am the one who's having her stomach open, not you." He laughed squeezing your hand, his nerves easing a bit. "How are you so cool with this?"

"I don't think me panicking right now, would do us any good, you know." Jungkook chuckled then kissed your forehead.

An hour has already passed by when they informed you that you delivered and that the surgery was almost over, they needed to stitch you up. "Jungkook go with the nurse!" You said urgently turning to look at him. "No baby, it's okay, your mum and my mum are waiting outside, I'll wait with you here." He said calming you down, he promised that he won't leave your side until you both get out of the surgery's room together. "But, this means that they'll know!" Jungkook chuckled at your worried expression. "It's okay baby, let them know." He said kissing your forehead. "You did great, and I am so proud of you!" He was tearing up because he could not understand how women could go through all of this, he was truly amazed. "I love you." You said looking into his teary eyes, "I love you, too baby so much!" He pecked your lips before the doctor announced that you were good to go.

It definitely wasn't easy, but with Jungkook there, everything was better.

Right now, you and Jungkook were asleep in each other's arms, appreciating the few hours of silence before everything turns back to its chaotic state in the morning. Since you've given birth, you could swear that you became a light sleeper. Your mum brushed off your marvellous discovery with a laugh claiming that it's normal for most mums to become light sleepers because you're always worried.

Just like now, your ears perked as you felt tiny footsteps softly padding towards your bedroom. And you were right, as you slowly turned in Jungkook's arms, so not to wake him up, you found your 3-year-old, Haneul, standing quietly by the door, sucking on his thumb and trying to search for you in the dark. "Haneul, baby I am here." You whispered and got up to see what's wrong. He padded softly towards you in his Stitch Kigurumi onesies that he insisted you buy from your last trip to Disneyland because that's his favourite character. "Oh baby what's wrong." You picked him up and held him in your arms cradling him as if to protect him from all the world's evil. You already knew what's wrong, he needed to change his diaper. "Come on baby, let's go to your room, daddy's still asleep." You left the room quietly hoping not to wake Jungkook up.

Haneul whimpered lightly in your arms seeing that he was irritated because of his diaper and he was still super sleepy. "Okay baby I'll change it for you, just please be quiet, your brother is still sleeping!" You prayed than Haneul won't throw a fit and wake up his twin, Hyun, from his sleep. It was too early to wake up the whole household right now.

"There, all done!" You whispered enthusiastically as he flashed a bunny-like grin at you just like his father. "Thanks, mummy." He grinned shaking his body cutely from side to side still laying on the changing table. "Anything for you baby!" You dived your head to his stomach attacking him with kisses as he squirmed beneath you. "Come on let's get you back to bed." You said putting him back in his crib and giving him a goodnight kiss. Before you could shut the door to the boys' room, you saw Haneul still standing in his crib giving you puppy eyes as he whimpered. You heart squeezed in your chest at the sight of your baby in discomfort. He wanted to sleep with you and Jungkook, but you can't let them get used to it. "Mummy!" Haneul whimpered reaching his tiny arms out for you. You sighed, your heart was too weak to leave him alone in the dark, you just couldn't do it. His eyes were starting to tear up as you went up to him. "God, you guys are my weakness." You muttered to yourself. As you were about to pick Haneul up, Hyun started to turn in his sleep, slowly waking up. Another pair of doe eyes slowly opened up, fluttering due to the dark smooth locks that were getting in its way. "Mummy!" You sighed great now both of them are awake and they will refuse to go back to sleep in their cribs.

Jungkook woke up to an empty bed, he jolted awake thinking you must be with the kids and that you might need his help, but didn't wake him up. He walked to the kids' bedroom to see you holding Haneul in your arms with him sucking on his thumb, drowsy eyes fighting sleep as you looked at Hyun who was carefully climbing out of his bed. "Careful baby!" You seemed to be fine, but your voice told otherwise, it was laced with worry, fearing that his leg might slip and he would get hurt. Hyun climbed down carefully then went up to you tugging on your nightdress and whimpering grumpily. Jungkook entered the room, "come here, buddy." He said scooping Hyun in his arms. "Baby, you woke up!" You frowned not liking the idea of him getting up so early. Since giving birth to your beautiful baby boys, Jungkook has put you and the boys as his top priority, and he was always there making sure you don't need anything. You didn't want him to wake up so early for once so that he could enjoy his sleep before going to the studio. "I didn't find you in my arms, so I got up to look for you." He said gazing at you lovingly. You kissed him on the cheek, he smiled and told you to go to bed with Haneul "I'll change Hyun's diaper and come right behind you." He said planting a kiss on your forehead. "Okay, baby." You said pulling Haneul closer to your chest.

A few minutes later, Jungkook and Hyun joined you and Haneul in bed. Haneul was fast asleep with his head resting on your chest, and Hyun was still awake looking up at Jungkook. "Come on buddy, go to sleep," Jungkook whispered running his fingers through Hyun's black locks that he inherited from his dad. "Appa!" Jungkook hummed softly in response. "Sing to me." Hyun traced his small fingers over Jungkook's cheek. Jungkook smiled closing his eyes for a few seconds enjoying the feeling as he started singing softly and quietly so that Hyun would go back to sleep.

You smiled, recalling all the things you've been through up until this moment. You remembered how you both were shocked when you found out you were having twins. That day was the best day of your life, you cried in happiness so much that Jungkook thought it was your hormones getting the best of you. "No... I'm just … I'm so happy." You said whipping your tears. That night you sat on the bed with Jungkook holding you in the same position that he would hold you when you're both having a deep conversation. You told him about the twins you saw that day, and how you were so fascinated by them and how they interacted with their mum. Jungkook smiled softly at you as he rubbed your belly. You both decided that you wouldn't tell anyone that you were having twins, and that it would be a surprise to your family and friends. The shock on their faces when they entered the room to congratulate you to find each of you holding a baby was priceless.

"Oh my God, are...are... You gave birth to twins!" Your grandma said in tears astonished by the surprise. "Oh, my dear bless you." She cried as you nodded with a big smile on your face. Your mum and Jungkook's mum were the ones who were in great shock because they were the ones who were waiting in the waiting room to suddenly find two nurses coming out with two babies. "How could you not tell us something like that?" Your mum asked whipping her tears as she looked at Haneul who was sleeping soundly in Jungkook's arms. "We wanted to surprise you." Jungkook replied as your dad smiled with tears in his eyes as he kept looking between you and Jungkook. "Congratulations sweetheart!" He planted a kiss on your forehead, proud of you. "Thanks, dad."

To say that the boys were shocked is an understatement. Poor Hobi kept looking left and right at each baby. "What the … twins?" Jimin burst in excitement as Yoongi grinned down at Haneul and Namjoon patting Jungkook's back smiling at Haneul, too. "They're so cute!" Jimin said excitedly as you handed him Hyun. "Careful, hyung!" Jungkook said worriedly, eyes watching Jimin like a hawk. "Look at our Jungkookie being a protective father," Jin said laughing with Taehyung bursting in laughter.

The boys kept pampering your kids to no end. Jin and Jungkook would even make sure that you and Lilly, Jin's wife, have play dates for the kids, seeing that Jin and Jungkook are the only fathers in the group. Life was treating you good with everyone surrounding you with love and care.

"What are you thinking?" Jungkook whispered. You looked at Hyun to find him fast asleep. "Nothing I was just remembering the day the boys blessed us with their existence." You smiled patting Hyun's back as you lifted the blanket to his shoulder. Jungkook's eyes gleamed at you as he smiled, probably remembering that day, too. Having kids is a huge deal to any couple but with Jungkook being there as he promised, you felt that everything is alright, and you didn't have anything to worry about. You and Jungkook fell into a deep sleep holding each other's hands as both Haneul and Hyun slept soundly between the two of you.

A/N:

Haneul means heavenly 🌌

Hyun means bright or intelligent.🤓

[theyrejustboys]

Written for @tma-valentines-exchange

For @voiceless-terror, who requested fluff and pre-canon JonTim. I hope you enjoy it!

Read it on AO3 or under the cut!

Content Warnings: drinking, alcohol

Summary: Tim half expects Jon to be embarrassed, but he just blinks up at him, still apparently in the dazed, barely conscious state of waking. Then he stretches, arms reaching over his head and back arching slightly. He makes an honest to goodness squeak as he does. Exactly like a little cat. Tim wants to kiss him.

Oh. Tim wants to kiss him.

So it hadn’t just been the alcohol last night, then.

The first thing that Tim becomes aware of as he’s pulled unwillingly from slumber is the gentle weight pressing down on his legs. The second is the cold hand resting lightly on the strip of bare skin where his t-shirt has risen up in the night. He stirs reluctantly. When he finally opens his eyes, his bedroom is blurry, and he has to blink a few times to clear his vision and his head as the world forms in pieces around him. There’s a low thrumming in his skull that bears the potential of a fully fledged headache if not dealt with swiftly. Perhaps that’s why it takes him another few moments for the implications of the small body snuggled against him to set in.

He can’t see the face of the person in bed with him, not without turning and risking waking them up, but his memories from last night are pouring in too quickly to leave him with any doubt.

---

“Shame Sasha couldn’t make it,” Tim said, sliding into the booth across from Jon.

Jon nodded as he shrugged out of his corduroy jacket. “She’ll be missed,” he said, and if Tim hadn’t spent so long studying his facial expressions across his desk, he might not have noticed the slight upward quirk of his mouth.

“The first round shall be in her honor,” Tim said with only half Jon’s solemnity, lifting a hand to catch the waiter’s attention.

Jon let him order for the both of them, seemingly content to sit back and glance around the pub while Tim spoke. It was a quiet, if kitschy, little place, and Tim had chosen it strategically for that reason. He might not mind the atmosphere in some of London’s more crowded bars, but it had only taken one outing with Jon to realize how desperately uncomfortable that sort of chaos made him. He seemed appreciative of the location tonight, even gracing Tim with a reserved smile once the waiter had disappeared. Tim wanted to take that smile and store it in a treasure chest with all the other beautiful things Jon had offered him throughout their slow-blooming friendship. He smiled back.

“So, that case you were working on this week. Did you ever get past the hurdle with the widow?”

Jon leaned forward eagerly to explain his findings. Tim settled in to listen.

---

It’s Jon. Jon had come home with him. They’d both been too drunk to deal with the hassle of bundling Jon into a taxi, especially when Tim lived only two blocks behind the warm little pub they’d spent their Friday night in. It was convenient.

And now Tim is in bed with Jonathan Sims. Not just in bed, either - Jon is practically on top of him, with one leg slung over both of his own and the hand not resting against Tim’s hip nestled beneath the pillow Tim is lying on. If Tim is very still, he can feel the soft puff of Jon’s breath against his neck.

He resists the urge to hide the smile tugging at his lips. He’d suspected before last night that Jon was more tactile than he let on, but he hadn’t imagined he’d be this clingy.

He understands, of course, that Jon doesn’t feel safe often, that others have not allowed him the time to be cautious with his affection. It’s no secret in the research office that his snippiness and chronically furrowed brows have won him few friends. It’s taken Tim months of steady, gentle friendliness to break through Jon’s carefully prickly exterior into the softness he’d seen hiding beneath. It feels, in a way, like reaching a new level of a video game - once he’d gotten past the grouchiness, the wariness, and then the bashfulness, he’d unlocked the awkward but horribly endearing kindness. And cuddles, apparently.

It’s worth being patient for, worth earning. Tim’s chest feels tight with the weight of his fondness. He wants to pull Jon into his arms and hold him close like he had in the pub last night.

Before Tim can move, however, there's a mumble near his ear as he feels Jon shift. The leg draped over his own slides down. He hears a soft yawn, and then, before he can process that, Jon is rubbing his face into the back of Tim's shirt like a sleepy little cat. Tim grins and faces him.

"Good morning," he says.

Tim half expects Jon to be embarrassed, but he just blinks up at him, still apparently in the dazed, barely conscious state of waking. Then he stretches, arms reaching over his head and back arching slightly. He makes an honest to goodness squeak as he does. Exactly like a little cat.

Tim wants to kiss him.

Oh. Tim wants to kiss him.

So it hadn’t just been the alcohol last night, then.

Jon peers at him, apparently roused to alertness by whatever expression has taken over Tim’s face. "What?"

"Rest well?" Tim says in lieu of a response, because if he dwells on this development any longer he might do something foolish, like brush a hand through the wild mess of dark curls spread across both the pillow he had offered Jon last night and Tim’s own pillow.

"Yes," Jon says.

Ah, there's a touch of the primness Tim loves. “Glad to hear it,” he says, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “I’ll take the bathroom first, if you don’t mind.”

He thinks Jon burrows deeper into the blankets as he leaves the room.

Across the hallway, Tim stares at his reflection in the vanity mirror. His heart is beating a little too quickly. "Keep it cool, Timothy," he warns himself. Then he splashes some water on his face and knocks back a couple of ibuprofen tablets before he brushes his teeth. "All yours," he calls into the bedroom when he finishes. Jon makes an unintelligible noise in response, and Tim huffs out a soft, breathless laugh as he crosses the flat toward his kitchen.

---

“... but my landlord is utterly heartless,” Jon concluded, looking rather dejected as he finished off his third pint. “He wouldn’t budge on the no pets rule, even for the Captain.”

Tim made a quiet, sympathetic noise, handing back Jon’s mobile after having admired the extraordinarily fluffy cat on the shelter’s front page for an appropriate length of time. “I would have,” he vowed. “For the Captain. Anything for him.”

Jon’s eyes shone briefly, and Tim wondered if he was going to cry. He just sniffed with marginally less dignity than usual and accepted the mobile. “Yes, well,” he said after taking a beat to gather himself. “You’re nice. Of course you would.”

“You think I’m nice?” Tim grinned, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his hand.

“Yes,” Jon said simply.

“Careful, Jon, if you keep up this sweetness I’ll have no choice but to hug you.” Tim was only half-joking.

Jon ducked his head and mumbled, “Well. You could.”

“What?” For a moment, Tim thought he’d misunderstood.

“I said you could.” Jon didn’t look up at him. “If you wanted. I wouldn’t mind.”

Tim could feel his cheeks begin to ache from the force of his smile. He stood quickly and slid into the opposite side of the booth. Jon didn’t pull away as he moved closer, only sat looking at him expectantly from the corner of his eye. “Bring it in, then,” Tim said, and he draped one arm around Jon’s narrow shoulders.

Jon sat stiff and awkward at first contact, but then he melted against him. He rested his head in the crook beneath Tim’s collarbone, sighing so softly Tim could barely hear it over the quiet clatter of the pub. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Tim asked. His voice came out a bit strangled from the sudden warm pressure in his chest.

“For being a nice person,” Jon said with a trace of his familiar exasperation but none of the spikiness. As if it were obvious, as if Tim could see it if only he paid attention.

Tim had been paying attention for a while now. He thought he understood what Jon meant. “Of course,” he said. He didn’t pull away. Neither did Jon.

---

He’s measuring out flour into a glass bowl when he hears Jon pad into the kitchen, and for one exhilarating second Tim wonders if he’s going to hug him from behind. He doesn’t. Tim lingers over the bowl for a few breaths more, then turns to face him. “I’m making muffins,” he announces.

Jon looks surprised. “You bake?”

Tim is momentarily distracted by the way Jon’s hair is piled on top of his head, wrangled into what might generously be called a bun. There are strands hanging around his cheekbones that Tim desperately wants to tuck behind his ears. He clears his throat and tosses a grin over his shoulder as he faces his mixing bowl again. “Why Jon, did you not notice the stupendous cakes I’ve brought to every office party this year? Of course I bake.”

“Oh,” Jon says. “I don’t usually stick around those long enough to eat anything.”

“You will once you’ve had a taste of my baking skills,” Tim promises. “These are going to be the best muffins you’ve tasted in your life.”

“My expectations are high,” Jon says in his dry voice. Months ago, Tim might have thought he was mocking him, but now he recognizes it for the friendly teasing it is. It makes something warm and lofty expand in his chest. Then, a moment later Jon asks, “Can I help?”

Tim opens his mouth to say no, that he’s a guest and should sit down and relax while Tim takes care of everything. He glances over again as Jon steps closer, fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie. It’s too long, dangling a few centimeters past his fingertips.

It’s Tim’s hoodie, he realizes with a start. His mouth shuts with a click. He wants to stare at Jon. He wants to turn his face away in case his adoration is too obvious. He still wants to kiss him.

Jon just watches him, picking restlessly at the fabric. He almost looks hopeful. Oh.

Tim gestures with his head toward the fruit basket on the countertop. “Dice an apple for me?”

“Sure.” Tim can hear the smile in his voice.

They work quietly for a few minutes, the only noise coming from the soft click of Jon’s knife against the cutting board and the muted sound of Tim’s whisk in the bowl. Once the fruit is mixed in with the batter, Jon watches as Tim carefully measures equal portions into his muffin tin and slides them into his oven. Tim has a sudden urge to turn on some music, to see if Jon might let him wrap his arms around him and spin him beneath the dim kitchen light.

“How much do you remember from last night?” Jon asks before he can.

Tim leans against the countertop. “Everything,” he says. Then he hesitates. “I think,” he adds nervously. “We weren’t that drunk, were we? Why do you ask?” He would have remembered if he’d -

Jon crosses the floor to the little table in Tim’s entryway. He has a habit of dropping his things there when he walks inside each evening, keys, wallet, and whatever else has accumulated in his pockets throughout the day. Jon rummages in the clutter before waving a short, shiny strip of paper triumphantly.

“Oh,” Tim says. No, he hadn’t forgotten that at all. “Right.”

---

Jon was the one who had pointed out the photo booth. Tim knew it was there - he’d spent a couple of tipsy evenings in it before. The last time had been with Danny. Maybe that memory was the reason he hadn’t brought it up to Jon. Maybe it was just that he didn’t think Jon was the sort to relax enough to enjoy something as trivial and objectively silly as a photo booth.

But Jon herded him away from their table and into the little box at the back of the pub with the same determination he directed toward his work, drawing the black curtain closed as Tim fiddled with the buttons. It smelled vaguely of wine inside. Jon didn’t seem to notice.

“I’ve never done this before,” Jon confessed. He’d had enough drinks by now that there was an airy quality to his voice. He suppressed a yawn. “But I’ve always wanted to.”

“Really?”

Jon nodded. “Never had anyone to do it with,” he said, sounding almost ashamed.

Tim decided not to point out that wasn’t the part he’d been surprised about. “You have me,” he said, settling back as the countdown began for the first photo.

Jon stared at the camera, head tilted slightly as he arranged a smile on his face. “Yes,” he said, then jumped at the flash. The countdown began again. Jon moved closer to Tim, brushing their arms together. “I do have you. I’m glad for that.”

Tim faltered, turning from the camera to look at Jon. Jon glanced up at him, and the careful smile on his face faded to something softer, gentler. Tim’s breath hitched. He’d like to kiss Jon like this, he realized, when he’s open and vulnerable and trusting. He leaned down slightly, suddenly breathless as he lifted a hand to cup Jon’s cheek. “Jon -”

The second camera flash made them both flinch hard, and Jon let out a startled noise that was almost a laugh, hiding his face in the collar of Tim’s shirt as if embarrassed. Tim laughed too, though he could barely hear himself over the pounding in his ears. He let his hand slide around the back of Jon’s head, cradling him, as if that was what he’d meant to do all along. He wondered if Jon could feel his heart thudding against his chest.

Before the last flash lit up the booth, Tim closed his eyes and pressed his forehead into Jon’s hair.

---

“I told you, you’re adorable,” Tim crows.

Jon splutters again, looking down at the photos in his hand in disbelief. “I’m an adult,” he says petulantly. “I can’t be adorable.”

Tim gasps, affronted. “Jonathan Sims! Are you putting an age limit on adorableness ? Please tell me you aren’t suggesting that I can’t be adorable.”

“I didn’t say that,” Jon grumbles.

“Good. I didn’t want to fight for my honor before breakfast.” Tim smirks at him and hopes the teasing is enough to distract from the painfully obvious yearning in his eyes on the strip of photo paper. His hand itches to take it from Jon, to cover up what feels practically like a confession, but he forces himself to be reasonable.

His oven timer beeps, drawing him from his nervous thoughts, and he busies himself tending to the muffins. Mercifully, Jon sets the photo strip aside to rummage in Tim’s cabinets for a pair of plates.

They migrate to the couch and eat quietly. Jon admits that Tim’s baking skills are rather spectacular, and Tim preens a normal amount. He wants to hug Jon again, but he resists. Whatever ease with which Jon had touched Tim the night before seems to have faded. His posture seems a bit stiffer, and he keeps his hands tucked closely in his lap, though Tim does catch him casting contemplative glances his way when he thinks he isn’t looking. He wonders how long it’s been since Jon has received affection.

Jon should receive affection always, Tim thinks, and should be held gently at each opportunity. He hopes he’s given another opportunity to hold Jon soon. He doesn’t push for it, though, doesn’t want to make Jon uncomfortable. He’s waited months to earn the trust he’s been allowed so far; he can be patient again.

“Tim,” Jon says after they’ve sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Yes?” Tim gives him an encouraging smile.

“I’ve - I’ve had a lovely time.” Jon doesn’t meet his eyes.

“That’s the Stoker guarantee,” Tim says with a smirk, though his chest twinges uncomfortably. There’s a but in there.

Jon takes a deep breath. “Yes. Well. Thank you. And - that is, I wanted to say…” He pauses. Opens his mouth and shuts it again.

That feeling in Tim’s chest is sinking lower. He waits.

Jon shifts abruptly, turning to fully face him on the couch. “Tim,” he says.

“Jon,” Tim answers quietly.

And then Jon surges forward and presses a chaste kiss into Tim’s jaw.

"Oh," Tim says. His hand flies up to touch his face.

Jon scrambles backward, blushing deeply. “Yes. Well,” he says again. “That’s all. Sorry, I should have -”

“Jon,” Tim says, “can I hug you?”

Jon makes another one of his soft little squeaks and nods wordlessly before tumbling forward into Tim’s arms. After a moment, he curls himself up smaller, wiggling onto Tim’s lap so as to better cling to him. Tim, very carefully, does not move except to tighten his hold on him.

“If you’re amenable,” Jon finally says, voice muffled in Tim’s shirt, “I would like to do this again sometime.”

Tim stifles a laugh. “And by this, you mean…?”

Jon sits up slightly, though he pouts a bit as he does. “Drinks? Dinner? And then cuddles. And I would like you to hug me again as soon as possible.”

“I don’t have to stop hugging you,” Tim points out. “You don’t have to leave. You can stay right here -” He pats his lap for emphasis. “For as long as you like.”

“You don’t mind?” Jon asks, peering up at him.

“Do I need to convince you how much I like hugging you?”

Jon considers. “No. But you could demonstrate anyway.”

Tim does.

[ichor-and-symbiosis]

Subject of Sin - Part 1.

Incubus Shigaraki x Nun reader; NSFW

Warnings: noncon, dubcon, somnophilia, possessive behavior, desecration of religion, monsterfucking.

Word count: 2,520 

A/N: A huge thank you to @shigamothki-vs-the-lamp for beta’ing and inspiring me to finish this fic! 

Your innocent forays into temptation and sin catch the attention of a demon.

Part 1| Part 2

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‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎‎“He sleeps inside my soul ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‎And sometimes wakes up in the night ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎And plays with my dreams.” ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎— Fernando Pessoa

Demons lurk within our minds, not in the crevices of forgotten places. If the darkness ebbs and flows, it is merely a reflection of our innermost desires — a manifestation of sin that refuses to be held at bay any longer.

You kept Father’s teachings close to heart and steadfastly studied the scripture. It was the only hope you had to cling to, having been hidden away at a monastery since childhood. Life was kind and peaceful, and you spent your days deep in prayer and tending to the ill and destitute alongside your sisters.

And yet, one way or another, something began to stir within you. It crept up on you throughout the years in the form of innocent temptations — a yearning to explore the local village for just a while longer, exhilaration after allowing a baker to slip a sweet roll into your satchel as thanks for helping his daughter, despite knowing you were not allowed to accept gifts from others, unrecognizable melancholy as you stared out into the sea of rolling hills on a crisp autumn day and admired the endless blue sky — so many little temptations that doused the bright flames of your spirituality and allowed the darkness to spread.

It was difficult to notice the change. Even when you found yourself restless and cursing the pain shooting up your knees as you knelt before a pew, you quelled your inner conflict with prayer and fasting. But adulthood brought about new challenges. The cracks within your restless spirit had spread like ivy and primed you for your first mistake.

Your day started like any other. Winter ensnared the grounds of the monastery in blankets of glimmering snow and stinging winds that proved difficult to overcome. The villagers were kind enough to send provisions to the monastery, ferried up the winding hills of gnarled oaks by a gentleman who you had seen many times. He was handsome and friendly, his inky windswept hair plastered across his forehead and cheeks nearly as red as his eyes. Father had the pleasure of speaking to him more often than not, but you still attempted to catch a glimpse of the man under the pretense of unloading the cart. Your heart always stirred at the sight of his warm smile.

You should not have entertained your silly whimsies. You should not have gone to bed with impure thoughts after a hasty Hail Mary, staring into the flames of the hearth as you huddled beneath your blanket and slipped a hand between your quivering thighs, watching the glowing red and orange hues of burning cracks within the firewood and remembering those beautiful eyes. The experience was so humiliating that you hurried out of bed in the dead of night and ran straight to the church, letting the sharp pain of cold snow against your bare feet guide you ever further towards your only chance of salvation.

The imposing silence of the church did little to soothe your nerves. Towering walls of barren stone and creaking wooden pillars surrounded you, devoid of hospitality in the dead of night. You took a few meek steps towards the altar. Unable to meet the solemn gaze of your savior, you scurried off to find Father’s private quarters instead. Your loud knocking had clearly startled the man into wakefulness. The poor priest looked just as frazzled as you felt, and you made sure to apologize profusely for your rude behavior as you dragged him to the confessional with tears streaming down your face.

Father had been so deathly silent while you told him about your infatuation with the villager that you were certain he would scold you good and proper. But no, he had been as compassionate as he always was, offering words of comfort and forgiveness.

That should have been the end of it. You did not see the villager for days after your shameful act. The mundane tasks of everyday life kept you busy. So busy, in fact, that you managed to work yourself to the brink of exhaustion one day, and you fell asleep in the alcove of the library like some kind of child.

You did not remember dreaming. Consciousness trailed on the edge of a feeling that stirred you from slumber — a barely-there touch brushing along your bottom lip, followed by a short puff of cold air that fanned across your face and startled you awake. The candle beside you innocently flickered and waved in greeting, and the shadows around you mockingly mirrored its dance.

This game of ethereal cat and mouse continued for weeks. Every so often you would feel lingering sensations trailing along your face whenever you let your mind wander, growing only bolder once you removed your constricting habit within the sanctity of your bedroom. With your hair freed from its confines as you brushed through the soft strands, sometimes you imagined a hand trailing after the brush with each downstroke. It reminded you of how your Mother Superior combed her fingers through your hair to prevent tangled knots from hurting you.

All of this, you could attribute to your imagination … until the sharp divide between fiction and reality steadily grew muddled.

A particularly strange encounter occurred one evening. You opened your small window and pensively stared out into the snowy landscape, a singular thought daring to escape your wicked mouth, where none but God could listen to your act of rebellion.

“I want to be out there,” you had whispered solemnly.

A breeze rolled through in answer, and you marveled at how the air caressed your cheeks and smoothed unruly strands of hair away from your face.

It had felt so tender and comforting. You froze in shock for only a moment before something spurred you to hurriedly close the window and hide yourself in bed.

If only it had been that easy — the following night proved to be more tempting than the last. You were woken up by a tingling sensation on your lips, and a new feeling altogether.

Something firmly cupped your breast through your nightgown. Or could it simply be your blanket tightened around you from thrashing in your sleep?

Your nipple hardened into a stiff peak, begging to be played with. You kept your eyes firmly shut and blushed at your wanton display, modesty briefly overtaking your lustful urges. Yet try as you might, you could not resist bringing your fingers ever downward. Your nightgown had ridden up to your hips, and as the blanket caressed the sensitized skin of your inner thighs and tightened around your breast, you buried your face in your pillow and gently eased a finger through your slick folds.

Your efforts were clumsy and inexperienced. It was utterly frustrating, your hips canting upward to try to find the right angle and failing miserably at it. Your brows furrowed in anger and concentration, and in your delirious frenzy to reach your peak, you found yourself arching your back into that strange grasp on your breast. A gentle swipe along your hardened nipple elicited a breathy gasp, and the feeling of fingers carding through the hair at your temple made you whimper and tilt your head in search for more.

Something slid along the back of your hand and coaxed it into a new position. Your mouth opened in a wordless cry as you finally hit a perfect spot deep within you. The tingling sensation tickled your lips again, and for some odd reason, you felt compelled to stick your tongue out just a little bit, your breath hitching as something soft and warm glided along the wet muscle.

It should have knocked all sense back into you. It nearly did, if not for your cunt pulsing around your fingers as you moaned and chased the aftershocks of heady pleasure with each roll of your hips. Liquid exhaustion flooded your body, urging you to slump back in relaxation. You had just enough energy to carefully remove your sticky hand from beneath your sheet and lay it on the edge of the bed before sleep overtook you. In the morning, you would find your fingers mysteriously clean.

You kept that night a secret. Overcome with shame and disgust, you could not bring yourself to admit to Father that you had broken your vows once again and strayed from his guidance.

“None will know, and therefore it never happened,” you angrily muttered to yourself as you strutted through the snowy grounds of the garden and tightened your wool cloak around you for warmth. “My sanctity is worth more than my foolish pleasure.” A stray rock caused you to nearly trip, and you had to suck in a deep breath to keep yourself from losing your calm.

The more you distanced yourself from the truth, the more you were drawn into the darkness. You kept your secrets safely guarded, playing the part of a devout sister while your aching loneliness was soothed by the balm of an unseen force that played with your senses.

Sometimes you imagined a glimmer of shifting light at the edge of your periphery, but you dared not look. Not ever. The gentle caresses were more than enough to satiate your desires.

Or so you told yourself.

A winter storm was in full effect tonight. Not a soul dared to prance around the cold corridors, which meant you had no chance of being interrupted by a wayward young initiate or an unruly sister with a penchant for late-night gossiping. You were freshly washed and warmed by the fire, your unbound hair fanned out across your pillow and your nightgown scandalously discarded over the back of your chair.

For the first time in your life, you did not bend the knee to pray before rest. Your heart thudded loudly in your chest as you stared at the golden cross hammered above your doorway, its edges aglow from the light of the fireplace.

“God forgive me,” you quietly uttered, and closed your eyes to banish the cross from your sight.

For a while, all you could hear was the sound of howling wind and crackling fire. You were half-tempted to begin all by yourself, but you had learned to be patient. Your visitor always made itself known when you were tethering on the precipice of sleep. Perhaps the delirium that followed exhaustion played tricks on you. Perhaps that had been the culprit all along.

Either way, you wanted it.

And so you let yourself slip free from anticipation and restlessness, the tension in your muscles dissipating as your breathing gradually slowed and you could no longer hear the wind or fire. All you knew was peace. All you perceived was stillness.

It was quiet. Far too quiet. Something felt different tonight.

You were overcome by the sensation of falling, and your body jerked lightly in response. It roused you from the precipice of slumber, and in your hazy confusion, you had enough common sense to keep your eyes closed. Ever so patient, you waited for what would come next, despite the goosebumps forming on your skin that had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the feeling of being watched.

A light weight pressed down onto your chest, as though a kitten had curled up there. You focused on your breathing and parted your lips, allowing your soft sighs to slip through. It always liked when you did that. Your mouth tingled a bit. You slowly licked along your bottom lip, and the weight on your chest became incrementally heavier.

A pulse of wetness gushed out of your cunt in anticipation. You rubbed your thighs together for friction and accidentally bunched your bedsheet at your feet, making it slither down your body to expose your breasts. The cold air caused your nipples to harden, and an even colder puff tickled one nipple before an altogether unique sensation followed — soft and textured, like a velvet ribbon, gliding around the stiff bud and ending its journey with a teasing flick.

You moaned quietly as you gripped the sheets beneath you. This time, something sighed against your mouth, trailing along your tongue and all the way to the back of your throat. Before you could make sense of the new experience, a firmer pressure settled over your lips, far more solid and real than any tantalizing tingle had ever felt.

You were delirious with need. Completely and utterly lost to your impulses, and you hadn’t even touched yourself yet.

Something was kissing you, and you were too far gone to consider the implications. Nevermind that you were in a compromising situation and forsaking your vows to the Lord.

Right now, all that mattered was how rough that touch felt against your lips, how slowly it guided your mouth into a deep kiss that smothered your whimpers and gently sucked at your lips with a lewd wet sound. Velvet glided along your tongue, twining like a serpent and licking every crevice of your mouth. It was overpowering, toe-curling, intoxicating. You were swept away by the myriad of sensations, moaning as your nipple was twisted and pinched, and the hair at your temple was lovingly, tenderly brushed through.

Familiar. You knew that touch. You craved it, and you wanted more. No one had ever made you feel like this before. No one ever would, not within these sacred halls.

What if —

What if you dared to look? Just this once, what if you stepped out from the protective embrace of your religion and just …

As though reading your mind, the firm pressure on your mouth disappeared. You opened your eyes, and forgot to breathe.

God help you.

Scarlet eyes. Redder than blood, oh so familiar in their beauty, yet entirely devoid of life. They burned like hellfire, slashed through by slitted pupils that honed in on you with an unyielding stare.

And the skin. You had never seen anything like it on a living creature, this sickly gray shade among numerous cracks and scars that marred the entity’s torso and face. Your gaze trailed over the strange markings around those serpentine eyes, your stomach churning uneasily as your worst suspicions were confirmed — the striated grooves winded and merged into the graceful arch of a pair of horns that curled back into sharp tapered ends.

You were consorting with a demon.

He looked corrupted, as though his very essence carved its demonic aura into his flesh. In a moment of bewildered hysteria, you honed in on the scars etched into his face, briefly noting that he had a mole just below the corner of his mouth, of all things —

The demon readjusted his position, comfortably resting his weight on top of you as his arms caged your head and his hands cradled your face. His fingers carded through your hair in a mockery of affection, and he smiled at you, all sharp teeth and cracked lips.

You wanted to throw him off of you. You wanted to kick and scream and beg the Lord for forgiveness and protection.

You were frozen in place instead.

[omnomsauruswrites]

Night out

You crossed and uncrossed my legs, as another zing coursed through my body. You took a long drink of your tequila, trying to find the person responsible for your current state. Your skin was electric and you had a light sheen of sweat on my skin. Another pulse and you cursed underneath your breath, “Motherfucker.”

“That’s not nice,” the voice in your ear said.

“Fuck you,” You bit out.

There was a belly deep laugh and you closed my eyes. You knew that laugh. That laugh says I have you right where I want you. You growled and threw back the rest of my drink, before standing and stalking towards the bathroom. “What are you doing?” the voice bit out.

“Powdering my nose,” you answered, pushing through bodies to get to the women’s bathroom across the room.

“You’ve got….”

You turned off the earpiece and looked at yourself in the floor length mirror, sparkly, short silver dress that barely hit your thighs, spaghetti straps that barely held up your breasts, your nipples poking through. Another vibration and you bit back a moan. Your nimble fingers drug the dress up your skin and you could see the purple between your legs and you flashback to earlier.

------

“Here wear this,” an outstretched hand held a piece of purple.

You looked at it and arched an eyebrow. “Was ist das?” you asked, not taking it.

“You wanted to play last week.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“You said you could make it through one night out with this inside you, remember?” he goaded. “You said no big deal darling, you can tease me all night long. What a better night than tonight when you have to go to the club.”

You glared at him and then at the c-like device. “You can’t be serious.”

“Don’t think you can handle it, darling?”

“Stop calling me, darling.”

He stepped closer, invading your space and you were forced to look at him. Brown eyes stared you down, and challenge and laughter behind them before his hand lifted the purple device to your line of sight. You chewed your lip. It was you and him on this mission anyway, no one else was going. “Shy are we, darling?” he quipped.

“Fuck you,” you growled, before grabbing the device.

He laughed. “That is the plan, darling. That is the plan.”

---------

Your eyes roamed your body then back to the purple. It vibrated again and you bit your lip again. He wasn’t around, you could… Your fingers traced your collarbone before tracing your nipples through the sequins. You imagined bigger fingers than your own and closed your eyes. You twisted them and gasped. Another zing hit you, but this time it wasn’t just one, it was more. You wanted to moan, but even now alone, you knew you couldn’t because then he’d know. Somehow he’d know. You needed to get back out there, but the vibrations kept hitting you like small waves. He knew.

Your small hand fell to your stomach and slowly went lower. You were at your curls before a bigger one fell on top of it. “Tsk, tsk,” a deep voice said in your ear. “What is this, darling?”

Your eyes flew open to stare at dark ones in the mirror. His eyes roamed your body before stronger vibrations hit you and closed yours swiftly. “Look at you all desperate like a cat in heat.”

“Fuck you,” you bit out.

He bit the juncture of your shoulder and your head fell back and mouth opened, but no sound came out. You felt his tongue sooth the bite marks and his strong arm brought you tight against him, so that you could feel his hardened cock against your ass. “Don’t tempt me, darling.”

You opened yours to see the tight blue button-up rolled up to his elbows, the tight jeans he had decided to wear out. You finally drug your eyes up back to his black eyes that were staring at your half naked body. “Is this what you wanted? A mewling pet to fuck in the bathroom?” you challenged, staring straight at him through the mirror.

His left hand fell away from your body, before swiftly spanking you. You cursed and the vibrations hit faster this time and you tried to scramble out of his grasp. He tsked again. “Stop being a brat, darling and I won’t have to be so cruel.”

His left hand went from your ass to push the hair away from your face. Your dress now above your navel, showing your trimmed juncture and your tattoos. His hand caressed your shoulder and down your front, as his right kept you place. His middle finger pushed the toy against your clit and with it came harder vibrations, scrambling again. Your nails dug into his right forearm, but he held you in place.

His right arm held you tight and you felt him get harder every time you struggled. This time he rutted against your ass. “Look at yourself,” he commanded.

Your eyes went to the mirror and to his face, but his were on your thighs. You looked down and saw your juices dripping down. Your right hand loosening your grip and went down to swipe some off your skin. His dark eyes watched your movements as you took your fingers to your lips, moaning at the taste.

“Dirty girl,” he whispered in your ear, as you felt his left hand push between your two bodies. You heard the sound of his zipper. “You’ve told me to fuck you three times tonight. I think I’m going to and you’re going to watch in that mirror. You’re going to watch my cock thrust in and out of you, darling, and you’re going to beg me to come.”

You felt his cock hit your bare ass, hard and velvety between your cheeks, before sliding between your legs, collecting juices. You felt him hit your lower lips occasionally and chewed on your lip, as the vibrator buzzed slowly. His left hand grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him in the mirror. “Your eyes stay there, pet,” he commanded.

You glared at him in the mirror. His right hand had moved from holding you to pulling your right breast out of the top of your dress, tweaking it. “You’ve been so mouthy today,” he commented, twisting a nipple and causing your mouth to open.

Your eyes never left the mirror, watching his right hand bring out your left breast. Your dress now barely a scrap of fabric covering your ribs. “Look at you, being a dirty little slut in public,” he said, hips slowly dragging his cock between your legs over and over. “Look at you all wet and holding back. I bet you’re going to moan and beg me. Beg me to cum inside you.”

“You gonna fuck me or what?” you bit out, your own eyes dark in the mirror.

“So mouthy…” he began, rubbing himself against your entrance.

You felt his tip against you and he grinned mischievous in the mirror. His hands grabbed both breasts firmly before swiftly impelling you to the hilt. Your eyes closed and there was a swift sting on your ass cheek. You felt yourself clench on his cock. Another swift sting. Your eyes opened to his in the mirror. “I said watch,” he commanded.

You growled and tried to ride him from the current angle, but he held you tight and you couldn’t. His hands lifted your hips, leaving just the tip in you before impelling you again. You gasped. Your own eyes became darker. He did it again and again. Each time the toy inside you pushed against your g-spot. “Nothing to say, darling?” he teased, his hips circling. “We can be here until they close.”

His eyes were filled with mischief and lust, as he pounded into you. His hands grabbed your chest and twisted your nipples. Your chest heaved and the electricity that had been there before continued to build with each thrust and each pass of the toy on your clit. Your eyes fell to where your bodies were intertwined and you bit your lip because you wanted to moan at the pornographic sight.

You felt his kisses on your neck and your head fell to your left shoulder. “That’s a good girl,” he whispered. “Don’t fight it, darling. You’re like a taught bow. You’re close to begging aren’t you.”

Your right hand went to his ass, pushing him in deeper. You felt him hit your cervix and a small gasp left your lips. “So close to begging,” he continued. “Look at you. So wanton, so sexy like a cat in heat. Your juices dripping down my cock to your legs. Your nipples could cut diamonds. Your legs shaking.”

You looked in the mirror at what he saw, breasts heaving, nipples stiff, your wetness slick on your thighs. You moaned at the sight of yourself. “There it is. Look at you, darling. Look at you taking my cock. Your sex keeps grabbing me, sucking me in.”

You couldn’t stop the next moan or the one after. Your fingers went to his neck, your nails digging into his skin. “There’s my dirty girl.”

He bit the juncture of your neck, again, and this time a moan left your lips. You felt him smile before doing it again. You pushed back on his cock, as his hands twisted nipples. His long strokes became demanding. The tautness in your belling became unbearable. A please left your lips quietly.

“What was that, darling?”

Your eyes met his in the mirror. “Please.”

He devilishly grinned. “Please, what, darling?”

“Oh fuck you.” The words released from your mouth as swiftly as his left palm hit your ass and you clenched around his cock.

“Mouthy little thing. Maybe I won’t let you come.”

You whined and pouted in the mirror, before his left hand turned your face to kiss you. As his tongue battled yours, he stilled his movements. His cock filled you but didn’t move. You felt it deep and at your cervix and a primal part of you wanted to come just like this. You both broke away and you panted. “Please,” you pleaded. “Please.”

“I don’t think you’ve behaved enough for that.”

You arched against him trying to move. “Please.”

You felt him throb inside you but he didn’t move. Your fingers caressed the base of his neck. “Please, baby.”

He looked at you in the mirror, staring at your chest. You quirked the right side of your lips up. Your fingers leaving his neck to play with your nipples, before you placed both hands on either side of the mirror, pushing your ass back and arching your own back. You turned your head to look at him. “Please, Chief.”

His large hands landed on your waist and he set a brutal pace, pushing your hot body into the cold mirror. “This what you want? You want to be dirty in the bathroom? Being mouthy to me so I’ll spank you? So I’ll take you?”

You gasped at his words but held onto the mirror. “Look at you taking my cock. I’m going to cum in you and it’s going to drip down your thigh. But you’re not going to come…”

“Baby…” you pleaded.

“No, no. Bad girls don’t come. No, they have to wait.”

His pace became faster. “Please…” you gasped.

It became punishing and he pulled your hair. “Bad sluts don’t get to come.”

You turned your head to look at him, his eyes black with lust. His fingers gripped your hips tightly, hitting your cervix over and over. “You’re going to take my hot cum and I’m going to lick it out of you when we get home.”

You mewled and arched more. His fingers pulled harder on your hair. The vibrator which had been silent for so long, turned on again. The mewl turned into a gasp. “Don’t come, dirty girl. Don’t come.”

You felt the electricity in your body go from your toes to your fingertips. “Please… please...”

You said it over and over, as he filled you with his cock. “Don’t come. Don’t come. Bad girls, don’t come.”

“Please… I can’t...”

The demanding pace didn’t cease. His hands took over your fingers at your nipples, twisting them and then took your arms, pulling you deeper on his cock. “You’re going to take my cum and it’s going to splash all inside you. And you’re not going to come. Do you hear me dirty girl?”

You were so close and in a haze. You heard his words, you did, but that didn’t stop you from pleading. “Please, Chief.”

He slapped your ass hard this time and the sting went up your spine and to your cunt. “So tight around me. You like this don’t you. Tits falling out, your juices dripping down your leg. Being used like this. Next time I’m going to fuck you like this in front of everyone and have an audience to witness how dirty you are.”

You felt yourself clench at his words and gasp.

“You like that, don’t you? You want people to watch you being fucked? MMmmm. Have everyone see how good of a cum slut you are?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. All you could do was feel his body and his cock push into you repeatedly. “So tight for around me. Going to fill you up.”

You felt the bruises of his fingertips on your skin as he pounded into you, taking you. You moaned and pushed back on his cock, but he controlled the pace and your body. “Please. Please. Please.”

He groaned. “Don’t come. Bad girls, don’t come… God, you’re so tight around my cock. So slick.”

His pace faltered and his hips stuttered. You knew he was close. “Please, Chief. Want it all. Please. Please cum.”

He pulled you tight to his body, staring at you in the mirror. You continued, “Want your cum. Please. Please. Please. Make me dirty. Want to be dirty for you.”

He groaned into your neck, thrusting deep and hard into you, cumming. You tried not to come yourself. Your skin covered in sweat and you felt his kisses against your shoulder. “Good girl.”

He thrust a few more times, before his left hand pushed your chin back to look at yourself in the mirror. “You look thoroughly debauched,” his fingers stroked down your arm and you whined. “And completely needy.”

He pulled your dress back up to cover your breasts and tucked his cock back in his pants. You stared at the purple toy between your juncture, still quietly buzzing. You heard his chuckle in your ear, before he pulled down your dress to cover your ass. “Don’t touch yourself again,” you nodded. “Don’t clean yourself up. I want you reeking of sex until we get home.”

[keanureevesisbae]

Protection - Chapter 2

Summary: August might’ve made a pretty bad impression on Mia, however, will she help him when he has a slight problem?  

August Walker x Mia Makaruku (ofc)

Wordcount: 3.5k

Warnings: None

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

The next morning I finally decide to do the smart thing: I get up at seven in the morning, to clean my apartment, start prepping some meals and work through the piles of laundry I have neglected these past few days.

Okay, I didn’t necessarily do that because I decided to be a productive woman for once and try to get most out of my day, but it is mostly because I couldn’t sleep anymore. I have been having nightmares since I can remember, which is probably since the fatal car crash that killed not only my parents, but also my brothers.

At least, that is what I’m told.

I remember crashing, I remember being out of the car and waiting for the emergency services, but I don’t remember my family maybe running away, their bodies being dragged away from me. They could be anywhere, really.

Dead or alive.

But ever since that crash, I have nightmares. Sometimes there is a loud crash or a fire I can’t escape or I’m drowning.

Usually I wake up at least once—but mostly twice—in the middle of the night, but last night I slept through. That seems nice, but I was woken up abruptly, since it felt like I was falling off a building.

While I’m putting the salad in the containers and I place them neatly in the fridge, I hear someone knocking on my door. This early? What idiot is up already and wants to bother me? I walk to the door and once I open it, a nasty surprise awaits me.

‘What do you want?’ I ask the one and only August Walker. After yesterday, I have decided that I don’t want to be his friendly neighbor. He hurt me feelings and doesn’t deserve anymore of my kindness.

‘My heater is broken,’ he simply announces.

And for that he knocks on my door? ‘Sucks to be you,’ I tell him.

‘I only have one blanket and my other clothes are coming in later this morning, just as the mechanic.’

I’m flabbergasted to say the least. ‘And you are sharing this information with me, because…?’ I know damn well why he is sharing this with me, but I’m not that easy.

August sighs, visibly annoyed. ‘Because I was hoping I could stay here with you for a while.’

I bark out a laugh. ‘Are you kidding me? After what you said to me yesterday, you honestly think I would let you in my apartment? I would be bat shit crazy if I did that. You insulted me, August.’

‘I barely insulted you.’

He has some nerves. ‘You said you hated women’s soccer to a professional female soccer player.’ I give him a do I need to explain any further-look.

‘You told me my moustache made me look like a pedophile.’

I cock an eyebrow. ‘That was only after you insulted me. Had you never been mean to me, I would’ve kept it to myself. But that is beyond the point, really. The real question is: why are you bothering me?’

He clenches his jaw. He probably thought that with his brooding look and broad build, he could intimidate me into letting him in my house. Well, he thought wrong. ‘I just want to stay here for a few hours, till eleven. I won’t bother you, I promise, but I’m really cold.’

I lean against the doorframe, as I check my watch. ‘That is three hours,’ I tell him. ‘I can barely deal with you for three minutes, let alone three hours. The answer is no. Just fuck off, will you?’

August wants to hold back a laugh, but fails miserably. ‘You sure mean that,’ he chuckles. I know I shouldn’t think like this, but he looks actually very friendly when he laughs, even if he is laughing at me. ‘Listen, I might’ve made a bad impression on you yesterday.’

‘You might’ve? Goodness gracious, do you have any self reflection? You definitely made a bad impression.’

He sighs, but almost has something from a growl. ‘It’s a few hours, Mia. What’s the big deal?’

What’s the big deal? This man has got quite some guts, it’s almost admirable. ‘Well,’ I say, incapable of saying no to him, ‘if I can get an apology, you can stay here. Saying sorry is not that hard, even you can do it.’

‘I don’t do apologies.’

Of course he doesn’t. I’m not even surprised. ‘And I don’t give shelter to my shitty neighbors, even if it’s only for three hours. Goodbye August. Please, freeze to death.’

I want to close the door, but he simply places his hand on the flat surface. Fuck, he is strong, those arms certainly are not lying. The battle August Walker vs Mia Makaruku is a quick one and not in my favor, I can tell you that. ‘I don’t want to freeze to death, so I’m gonna say this one time and one time only, so you better listen carefully: I’m sorry I was rude.’

I smile. ‘See, it wasn’t that hard. I also liked it that you really sincerely apologized, meaning in from the bottom of your heart.’

I know I’m pushing the limits here. August glares at me, but even through the death glare he is sending me, I can actually see some humanity in his light orbs. I actually feel a bit sorry for him. I know, that surprises me too.

‘Come on. Just don’t bother me too much and the second the mechanic is here, I want you out of my apartment.’

‘Doable.’ I have barely stepped aside, when he barges into my apartment. He has the audacity to plop on my couch, grab the remote and turn on the television.

‘Yes August, please make yourself at home. Do you want a coffee with that? Some homemade chocolate croissants? A fucking massage?’ I slam the door shut and when I look at him, I notice the smug smile on his face because of my offers. I let out a growl. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

Unbeknownst of the company, Bobo trots into the room. When his eyes land on the stranger on the couch, he arches his back with his hackles raised and hisses. I’m glad to know my furry companion thinks just as lowly of the—sort of—uninvited guest as I do. ‘I’m not a big fan of cates,’ August notes.

‘I’m almost assuming this is your first time you’re over at someones place,’ I say. ‘You sure know how to not behave yourself. If you don’t like him, go back to your own place.’

‘Okay, okay, I’ll stop. What do I do if he comes near me?’ August looks up at me. ‘Do I just hiss back?’

Thankfully I can manage to keep a straight face. ‘That’s an option,’ I tell him, as I walk back to my kitchen. Do I hiss back? It’s nearly endearing, especially since it’s coming from a tough looking guy like August Walker. I prepare my coffee machine and ask: ‘Do you want some coffee?’ While I don’t necessarily want him here, I might make most out of it. Besides, I can’t possibly imagine someone is as rude as him without a reason.

Maybe he had a shitty youth. I mean, I encountered my fair share of foster siblings and some of them were rude as hell, but when I learned about their family situation, prior to this foster home, I realized they had every reason to act like they did. While my coping mechanism is to charm my ass off and make a good impression on everyone (and I mean literally everyone), August’s way to dealing with his trauma’s can be to push people away. However, I do think he desperately wants to make a connection. Despite not totally getting it, he did come to me when his heater broke, so that must mean I’m maybe the only one who is trying to be nice to him? Give him a chance, while he might not deserve it?

Right?

‘Sure,’ August says, while keeping a close eye on Bobo, who stares at him with his back still arched. ‘What’s the cat’s name?’

‘Bobo,’ I answer him. ‘I got him from the shelter. Fun story: I was actually looking to adopt a dog, but when I walked passed Bobo’s cage, I couldn’t say no to him. Like it was an instant click between us.’

August doesn’t say anything, so apparently he doesn’t agree on this being a fun story. While the coffee is running, I walk back to the living room, but as I pass a mirror, I manage to hold in my gasp.

I look like crap! I’m still wearing my flannel pajamas that are actually three sizes too large for me and I actually don’t think I can call this frizzy mess on my head, hair. I also have not put on any moisturizer yet and it shows.

To kind of make myself a bit more presentable, I twist my hair in a bun, to sort of contain it.

Yesterday I looked pretty put together. Today I look like an utter mess. I can barely blame August for not taking me seriously. I plop on the seat and Bobo jumps on the armrest. The orange cat sits down, but continues to take August in.

‘The staring is making me uncomfortable,’ August mentions.

‘You seem so tough, but looks can be very deceiving,’ I chuckle.

‘That’s not funny.’

‘It’s hilarious, you should grow a sense of humor,’ I retort. ‘Okay, tell me something fun about yourself.’

August frowns. ‘Why on earth would I do that?’

‘Because I’m providing you shelter,’ I say. ‘Honestly, it’s the least you can do. Tell me something fun. There must be something fun about you.’

‘You have to give me more than that,’ he mutters. ‘I don’t like talking about myself and I certainly can’t do it on the spot.’

Okay, that’s fair, I can’t do that either. ‘From where did you move here?’

August lets out a deep breath, as I watch him caressing his own thigh. It almost looks like he is soothing himself. Is this question making him uncomfortable? ‘Montana,’ he says, but it’s not very convincing. Hearing from his tone, he doesn’t want to talk about it.

‘You want a pet?’ I continue trying to strike up a conversation. I don’t want to stare at him for three hours (not that I would complain about it, because the view is pretty okay, it’s just slightly weird) and I need him to talk, because otherwise I have to kick him out.

‘I’m not a big fan of animals. As a matter of fact, I don’t even like animals.’

‘That’s really sad,’ I say, as I scratch Bobo behind his ears, earning me some load purring. ‘Animals are very nice and you always have someone to cuddle with. Or doesn’t August Walker like cuddles either?’

He looks over at me, not amused. ‘Do we have to talk?’ he asks, expertly avoiding my question, sarcastic or not.

‘Yes, we do. If you don’t want to talk, ask me something and at least pretend to listen when I do so.’

August cocks an eyebrow, before he thinks about it for a while. ‘Are you ever afraid of life?’

‘Geez,’ I exclaim, ‘way to make it this depressing in the morning!’

He simply shrugs. ‘You wanted me to ask you something.’

I sink deeper into the backrest of my soft one person sofa. The question does make me think. I’d like to surround myself with positivity, ignoring the bad things happening in the world and not think about the darker aspects in life. I know that is not very healthy and you should be aware of the things happening around you, but it has helped me through tough times in life.

But when I think about it, about the uglier side of life, I realize one thing. ‘I am afraid of life,’ I say.

‘Why?’ he asks.

‘Because it can be scary sometimes. Unpredictable.’ The sounds of screeching tires, a loud crash and the car tumbling over all flashes through my mind. ‘It can be painful.’ Realizing how upsetting this all sounds, I grab a pillow from behind me and throw it to August. ‘Why are you so damn miserable?’ I ask him. ‘We should start the day on a happy note, not make it this depressing.’

August breaks out in a smile and when he does so, he looks approachable. Not like my shitty and rude neighbor, but like a nice guy. ‘Well, your questions were too generic.’

‘Yours are too depressing.’

For a few seconds we simply look at each other, before we both burst out in laughter. It’s nice to see August Walker like this. He doesn’t look stuffy anymore and he lost the arrogant glow. ‘Well, while you think of more lighter questions, I’ll get the coffee. You want milk or sugar in it?’

‘No, just black will do.’

I walk to the kitchen, pour in the coffee in two bright red mugs and hand him one. ‘There you go,’ I say to him.

He simply takes it out of my hand, but I continue to hold it. ‘What are you doing?’

‘One usually says thank you when he or she receives something from someone.’ I remember it clearly, when one of my first foster parents taught me some lessons in being polite. Back then it was said in a loving way. Now I recreate the entire scene in more of a mocking tone.

August rolls his eyes, exactly as I expected him to do. ‘Thank you,’ he grumbles. ‘You happy now?’

‘Absolutely delighted.’

◎ ◎ ◎

At eleven ‘o clock sharp, August left because the mechanic arrived. Not long after that, I had to go to practice. Because of the presence of my neighbor the entire morning, I actually forgot about having to train with Tristan on the side of the field. I wondered what on earth I did to displease coach Riley. Okay, I know she does this because it is for my own good, but for fuck’s sake, I have never felt so humiliated in my time I’ve trained with the Red Stars.

Thankfully the awful training finally ended and at around five in the late afternoon, I’m back at my apartment building. When the doors slid open, I see Harold standing behind the reception as usual. I glide through the hallway and manage to stop right in front of him on the other side of the desk. ‘Hello Harold,’ I say to him.

‘Hello miss Mia,’ he says to me, as he places his under arms on the flat surface of his desk. ‘You seem awfully cheery today. I thought you had to take it easy today during training.’

Am I cheery? My teammates said this to me as well today, before I remembered I had to train on the side of the field and now Harold mentions it too? I don’t really know why I would be— Oh no! Does this mean what I think it means?

Did I enjoy August’s company this morning?

Well, to be honest, it was actually quite nice from time to time. I have been spending most of my time alone in my apartment (actually all the time). I mean, I love my teammates and we hang out after practice sometimes, but they have their own lives, their own families.

I don’t want to intrude, though they invite me from time to time. It’s more that I’m scared to join them. What if they only ask me to join them, because they want to be nice and polite?

After we talked for a while this morning, August and I, we spend some time watching television. It was almost as if we were alone together and that felt quite nice.

‘Just woke up in a cheery mode,’ I say, though it’s not exactly the truth. ‘Is there any mail for me?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, miss.’

‘For my new neighbor then?’

Harold shakes his head again. ‘How is he anyways? Heard about his heater being broken.’

I smile. ‘Well, he quite nice actually. Bit stuffy, like you said, but once you get to know him, he can be nice from time to time.’

‘Is that why you are cheery?’ he asks.

‘What?’ I exclaim. How did Harold guess that right away? Yes! ‘No, what on earth would give you that impression?’

Harold tries to keep a straight face, but he fails and I realize I’ve been caught red handed. ‘Well, miss Mia,’ he says, thankfully not adding any fuel to this disastrous situation, ‘I’m glad to know that you manage to make even him likable. You are a very special lady.’

‘Right,’ I say, after I cleared my throat. ‘I’m gonna go. See you later, Harold.’

He chuckles. ‘Later, miss.’

When I step out on the right floor, I let out a deep sigh. Is it true? Am I cheery because of August Walker? Who would’ve guessed. When I pass his door and I fumble with my keys, I hear a door open. I look to my side and see August stepping into the hallway.

‘Good afternoon, neighbor,’ I say to him. ‘How are you?’

He doesn’t smile and the nice August I saw every so often this morning, has disappeared into thin air. While I want to be annoyed by it, I can’t help but notice to see the slight pain in his eyes. I saw it this morning and I see it now. From the looks of it, he is hurting and I relate. I know how it feels.

But what I also know is that deep down there is a lovely soul, it’s just protected by a very thick wall.

‘Good afternoon,’ he hums. ‘I realized I took this from you.’ He holds out the red mug I handed to him three times this morning. This man gulps down coffee as if it is water and for a second I was genuinely concerned he would have a caffeine overdose.

He seems to have managed just fine.

‘Oh, thank you,’ I say as I take it from him when he stepped closer to me. ‘I probably wouldn’t have missed it. I have way too many mugs, but thanks anyways.’

The way August is hot and cold within a matter of seconds, is something I should put up with from now on. I have decided to give this man with some pretty poor social skills the benefit of the doubt. Besides, I actually quite enjoy having him around.

No wonder I was cheery today.

August buries his hands in his pockets and is probably waiting for me to say something.

‘Your heater fixed?’ I ask.

He simply nods. ‘Yes, all good now.’

Is he waiting again for me to say something? This man… Before I can even think about the pros and cons of my very impulsive idea, I ask him: ‘Do you have plans tomorrow night?’

‘I don’t,’ he says, before he frowns. 'Why?’

‘I have two tickets for a Bulls game.’

He looks confused. ‘A what game?’

‘Bulls game. Chicago Bulls. Basketball,’ I clarify. ‘I mean, you can go with me if you want.’

‘And why would I want to do that?’

‘Because I’m the loveliest neighbor and human being for that matter, you have ever encountered in your life and you desperately want to spend more time with me.’

August doesn’t smile. Maybe he is conflicted, because he occasionally let his guard down this morning.

And maybe this question is way too much. I don’t really understand I was questioning his social skills this morning, while I’m out here overstepping all sorts of boundaries.

‘Sure,’ he however says to my surprise. ‘I can’t really think of worse things to do tomorrow.’

‘You’re such an asshole,’ I tell him. ‘You were quite nice this morning in my apartment.  What changed?’ I don’t give him time to answer. ‘Oh wait, I think I get it. It’s this hallway that turns you into a complete asshole.’

‘You can still un-invite me,’ he says, with an amused glimmer in his eyes.

‘I can do that of course, however believe it or not, I barely have friends and the few I have, all have their own social circles and don’t like to go to Bulls games.’

‘Then why did you purchase two tickets?’

‘Because it was cheaper to buy two tickets and I’d like to live up to the stereotype that the Dutch are stingy cheapskates.’

‘I can tell you, Mia, it’s working,’ he says. ‘Someone without friends who want to go to Bulls games with her, purchases two tickets, simply because it’s cheaper.’

I stick out my tongue. ‘Well, whatever. It starts tomorrow at six and it’s within walking distance from here. You have time?’

‘I sure do.’

‘And you still want to go with me?’

He nods.

‘Well, see you tomorrow then, August.’

He looks at me, a long and intense stare, before he says: ‘See you tomorrow, Mia.’

[alpaca-writes]

Mystics, Chapter 36

84,000 words later....

I can’t thank everyone enough who sent in asks, commented, liked, and reblogged Mystics as it was being created. It meant the world to me and gave me so much inspiration to continue! Special thanks to Myst, of course. Continue to send in asks for the OCs as much as you want. A part 2 is in the works.

Enjoy Mystics’ final chapter. I hope its been as much fun to read as it was for me to write! <3

Xx -Alpaca

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror & @livingforthewhump

CW: captivity, blood mention, drug mention, cheesy dancing at the end.

------------------------------

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: THREE LITTLE BIRDS

Remember: Matter. How tiny your share of it. Time. How brief and fleeting your allotment of it. Fate. How small a role you play in it.

                              - Marcus Aurelius, Meditations.

         Shining white, pristine walls lined the hall. It didn’t take long for Hekate to catch up. Paimon didn’t know why he expected anything less. Now his arms were held behind his back by a cosmic force, unknown even to him, and the inorganic urge to continue walking by her side pushed him forward. He spoke little, and listened even less to what the old hag was saying.

         “I cannot promise you will be happy here, but at least you will not be alone in your imprisonment,” Hekate said.

         They turned around a corner through the maze of halls and landed upon a wide set of sliding doors. The whole realm was practically space-age. Hekate was clever to disguise the entryway to her realm as his own Labyrinth.

         He should never have jumped through. That was a rookie mistake. The moment Apollo was released, he should have known something was amiss. Lyrem certainly didn’t have the talents to perform such a feat.

         “This is best for you, Pan,” Hekate continued. “I know that with a little more helpful guidance, you can return to your true nature, and your true glory.”

         “Paimon.”

         Hekate paused. “No, no, no, my dear. You are Pan. You always have been Pan. You will always be Pan.”

         The sliding doors opened. Inside this room there was yet another hallway, but instead of previous areas, this one was lined with clear walls. Perfect for seeing through into the cells that would hold a chosen prisoner.

         Many of them were empty. Hekate continued toward the end, until Paimon reached the last of the cells. There was a simple bed and some books on a nightstand that had been left untouched. The room was covered in a white rubber. The bed, made of wood.

         “I am not going in there,” Paimon said, his brows furrowed.

         Hekate agreed with a nod of her head.

         “You are correct. You are going into this one.”

         The cell door across from the one that had taken Paimon’s attention opened with a whirring noise. Unable to stop himself, Paimon stepped through the threshold. The door whirred shut behind him and he was released, finally, from whatever command Hekate had over him.

         “This is an abuse of power!”

         “An abuse of power is what you had for many, many years on Earth my darling dear. And quite frankly, I have had enough of your games,” Hekate observed calmly. “You will have much in common with your cellmate. Let me put it simply, Pan. The sooner you behave, the sooner you will be released.”

         Pan- no! Paimon looked around his new home as new objects formed around him out of nothingness. A simple bed, nightstand, all as white as snow on Christmas day and one thing in the corner that stood out among everything else because of its red mahogany sheen- a Pan flute.

         “If you wish to have anything more, then you will need to earn it,” Hekate stated.

         Darkly, Paimon turned around, meeting his great aunt’s eyes.

         “I will destroy you for this. I will ruin you. I will make sure no one ever knows of you. I will turn you into a forgotten relic! Just as you deserve to be!”

         Hekate raised a brow to show how meaningless Paimon’s threats truly were to her.

         “I would think it something to be admired, if you could do any one of those things, darling dear. Certainly, if even your own father could not do those things, then it would be worth true congratulation.”

         Paimon charged the clear wall and then stole a glance to the cell across from him, where someone had returned from using a restroom. The mysterious person sat on the edge of his bed. Someone vaguely familiar, with light eyes and a trimmed white beard, looking drastically different than he remembered. Paimon blinked.

         “Dad?”

 ---------------------------------

         “Have you ever heard the tale of Sisyphus?”

         “It may shock you to learn I haven’t ever quite finished the Iliad, but yes, I have.” Lyrem replied to Hades’ question. “So, you’ll have repeat a meaningless, trivial task for all eternity in my afterlife as a punishment for imprisoning you as per Pan’s command. How very original. Did you think of that all on your own, or did you need your brother’s help?”

         “My brother Zeus has not been heard from for a millennia. While he had given me some inspiration, I thought it better to put my own ironic flair into your suffering.”

         Persephone interrupted with a short squeak.

         “No, uncle, please don’t be so ruthless. He’s lost so much already!”

         Artemis had switched back into her cat-like form, comforting her brother Apollo in his lap and purring. She had let out a protest of her own in Lyrem’s favour as well.

         Apollo translated. “Arty agrees. We should be kind to him. Truly uncle, I have to imagine that Pan had quite the psychological hold on this man. Perhaps it would be wise to show him a tad bit of mercy?”

         Hades looked to the naïve children and back to the human-mortal-man with growing disinterest. Then a light crossed his face, as though an idea dawned on him. He allowed himself to smile, ever so gently.

         “Well, I can see that you have created quite the positive rapport with my nieces and nephew already. I don’t know why I am so surprised.”

         Lyrem shot a quick wink to Persephone as a thank you.

         “Which is why, I shall grant you eternal life.” Hades continued.

         Lyrem looked back to him, and stammered.

         “What- what did… Did you just say what I think you said?"

         Hades nodded. Everyone looked joyful. Excited even. Lyrem could last forever- very nearly be one of them. Yes, everyone thought this to be a grand idea, except for obviously, Lyrem.

         “When you die, I will refuse to take your soul. Every time without fail. You will forever grow old, then older… then older. And you will never die.”

         “No.”

         “Welcome to a lifetime of arthritis and aching legs and never-ending cataract surgery,” Hades said. “Oh, yes, that is right, Thomas. I know how old you are, and how much older you will get before your cells no longer hold you together. Consider this a gift.”

         “No, please, God Hades. I need to find Ros-”

         “Goodbye ‘Lyrem’. Have yourself a wonderful life.”

         He was gone. All the mortals had left the Underworld, finally. Now, Hades could return to restoring his realm to its proper state.

         Persephone perked up, realizing she was free to create and grow everything back to the way it was in the Underworld.

         “My pond!” She cried, running out the dining room doors towards the Depths of Despair. “I swear, if Pan killed my koi, I am going to be furious!”

-----------------------------

         “Why the hell are there empty bins in the hall?! Where are all my photos?! What on earth happened to my stereo?!”

         Arch groaned, sitting up from the floor of the living room. Their mother was already back to her old self, standing and shouting and asking questions that no one would care to answer for her.

         “I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Arthur answered. He stood to his feet and limped slowly down the hall. “I’m pouring myself a bath.”

         Charlotte rushed past her brother and her child, throwing herself through the house in a frenzy. Arch stood with their back against the wall, arms crossed. It wasn’t anything defiant. They just wanted to be held.

         “Where are all my clothes?!”

         DING DONG

         “Arch, I swear to God, you will tell me what happened while I was away, and where all my f-” ding dong “stuff is!”

         Arch removed their bloody apron from their body, moved a short few steps to the kitchen sink and rinsed their hands that were still stained red.

         DING DING DING DING DING DONG!

         Arch rubbed their temple with their hands and out of instinct, walked to the front door.

         It was Benji. Through the screen door, Arch saw him standing on the sidewalk in front of their house. He had just pressed play on his Bluetooth speaker sitting in the grass. It started playing a bizarre melody.

         “Hey! You answered! I was hoping you would! You have no idea how many texts I’ve sent!”

         Arch stepped out onto the top of the stairs, still puzzled to know what was happening. The summer heat still lingered in the air.

         “Look, I don’t know what I did to deserve the cold-shoulder, but I thought you deserved a visit at least on your birthday, okay? So, sue me.”

         “My birthday?” Arch said. “It’s… It’s August? Thirteenth?”

‘Me, my, oh, what a life So lean on my people, gon' be stepping in time’

         “Yeah, dude! Did you seriously forget?!” Benji exclaimed, bobbing his head from side to side.

‘So, thank you!

For coming to my birthday party!

I am one minute old today

And everything is going great-’

Arch sputtered a reflexive, well-needed laugh. Benji had started dancing like an absolute fool on their front lawn. He pulled out a birthday candle from the recesses of his pocket and held it forward.

“Look, I’ve been wanting you to show me that magic trick again, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Arch placed their hands in their pockets, trying to work past their tears of both exhaustion and entertainment. They shook their head. They really didn’t want to know if they could still perform that trick.

“I… forgot how.”

Benji stared back up, crestfallen. He checked his phone and lowered the volume on his music player.

“Fine, okay. Whatever. You don’t want me around. That’s cool. I get it. I’m a big shot. Not really your type to hang with-”

“What?”

Benji swallowed back his pain, and shrugged.

“It’s cool Arch. School’s over and we gotta go our separate ways. I understand.”

He started backing away. Arch leapt forward, and caught him by the elbow before he turned away completely.

“I want you to stay!” Arch admitted. “It’s totally cool if you want to hang out. Please stay... I… Honestly, I have been so lonely...”

How did the air get so thick?

“And I have missed you… so much.”

Benji’s sad, soulful eyes skeptically narrowed, and then widened with a realization.

“Dude… Have you been struggling? This whole time…? All summer? You gotta come to me with your shit! Don’t bottle it up, bud.” Benji wrapped them in a tight hug and rocked them to and fro. “Oh, I had no idea... You’re my main enby, Arch… I’ll be your Rick Astley forever… The Bernie to your Elton… Okay? Always. No doubt. No doubt.”

Arch took a moment to sob grossly into his shoulder. They pulled away before it got too squishy for their liking. If allowed, they knew Benji would let them cry on him until the end of time.

Arch took a deep breath of relief.

“Sorry, I’ve just been really stressed.”

“Yeah, hey. No kidding.” Benji said. “Look, here’s the plan, Shazia said that if I could reach you today that she’d meet us at the park with some of that fancy hash we like so that we can smoke up cakes.”

Arch scrunched their face.

“Cupcakes. Shazia would meet us in the park with cupcakes. Hey, Charlotte,” Benji cleared his throat, seeing the dark haired woman, who seemed to be hanging by a very fine thread from behind the screen door. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Benji. Arch, just go.”

“Wait. Really?” Arch turned around, wondering how she could be serious.

“You’re eighteen now, aren’t you?” Charlotte asked. 

Arch nodded.

“Then get out.”

There wasn’t anything warm about the way Charlotte said those words. Instead of lingering too long on the nuance, Arch only nodded, watching the door to the house shut its inhabitants in.

Benji bent over to pick up his speaker. He didn’t miss a beat cutting the music.

“What was that all about?” He asked. Like Arch, he looked up at the closed door.

Arch wiped the wetness away from their face with a couple fingers.

“I… I think I was just kicked out.”

Arch cleared their throat. They turned back to Benji as the summer sun beat down on them both. 

Oh Benji. He was the most welcome sight in this world. The only good thing left that Arch had yet to ruin. Shazia would soon await them both in the park. Their life with Paimon, Lyrem, and hell, was now in the past. A future containing Arthur and Charlotte filled with shame and regret awaited them.

That didn’t matter yet. All that mattered was what was right in front of them.

And Arch really, really, really wanted to get high.

“Anyways, you said something about smoking up?”