#i was going to add blood and some cake smears

[rou-luxe]

🎂

(8/30)

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

@bakersgrief @floydsteeth @tako-cafe @rubia8 @xxoomiii

@sh0jun @noxinara @g0dwat3r @sapphire-323 @lycemagee

@citrusmornings

please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!!

[megistusdiary]

i just saw your post and how about some soft diluc smut with fem reader like maybe him coming back home from being basically batman and y/n wanting him to she like drags him to the bathroom and they wash each other's hair and do other stuff too idk i love diluc so much he's so sweet

haven't written about genshin in quite some time, so let's give it a shot! this turned out kinda long bc i realized i like writing soft random fluffy moments.

soft-dom!diluc x sub!fem anatomy/pronouns reader

warnings: smut (minors dni), mentions of blood, wholesome bath time, but also sexy bathtime, fingering (reader receiving), honestly just some soft stuff 🫶

the second you heard the manor door opened, your feet moved faster than your brain. you rushed down the steps to meet him halfway as his tired frame froze in place.

his mask was held loosely in his fist, the other busied by leaning his hefty claymore against the wall.

his lips parted, but before he could speak, you stepped in front of him, giving him a little kiss on the corner of his lips. your thumb swiped over the caked on blood and dirt smeared across his cheek. you heaved a sigh when the blood swiped off, revealing unmarred skin beneath.

"let's get you cleaned up." you smiled at him, gently taking the mask from his grip and tucking it into your pocket. you gingerly took his hand into your own, clasping your fingers together as his cheeks dusted pink.

he allowed you to lead him up the stairs, trudging behind you as you walked him to the bathroom.

"go ahead and turn the tap on, but we need to get that dirt off of you first. we can't waste a whole tub of water." you ordered, turning to fetch some towels and soap, pleased to hear him filling up the bathtub behind you.

"oh," you paused, turning to hand him the bottle of lavender bath salts. "add some of these."

once you collected your 'kit' of essentials, you sat diluc down, helping him to tug his dirty clothes off and kicking them into a pile. "hold still for me." your palm came to carefully hold his jaw in place, sighing at his silence.

you wet the red rag in your hands with warm soapy water, dragging it down his skin and collecting the sweat and dirt. once his face was clean, you removed more of his clothing layers, continuing to clean his arms and chest until you were satisfied.

"thank you." were the first two words to spill from his lips, though they were quiet, earning him a smile from you.

"you don't need to thank me for cleaning you up. what would mondstat do without their darknight hero?" your eyes crinkled up with mirth as his own lips quirked up slightly.

"now you sound as insufferable as kaeya." he shook his head as you swatted him gently with the wet washcloth.

"i think i liked it better when you were too tired to talk. go get in the tub." you scoffed, helping him up to remove the rest of his clothing and seating him in the tub.

"you're not getting in?" he asked when you settled onto the floor next to him.

"no-"

"come on...i'll wash your hair." he urged, tugging you gently as you rolled your eyes.

"you drive a hard bargain." you moved away to pull off your pajamas, folding them and setting them on the counter before stepping into the tub.

diluc opened his arms for you to slide in front of him between his legs, resting your back against his chest. your head fell onto his shoulder comfortably as he adjusted the both of you under the water.

he let you lay for a few minutes before he sat you up, tilting your head back so he could pour water over your hair. once it was fully saturated, he rubbed your favorite shampoo into your scalp, massaging gently with the roughened pads of his fingers.

your body relaxed against his, sighing as you shifted against his skin. he could hear you mumbling something about how good he was at this, causing him to let out an amused puff of air.

once he deemed your hair cleaned, he washed the suds off, wetting his own hair in the process for you to wash. you had to rise up on your knees to do so, laughing at the way his hair clung to his face.

"what's so funny?"

"it's weird seeing you with pin-straight hair. i'm used to it being all fluffy." you smiled, carefully scratching at his scalp. he let out a little grunt, closing his eyes as you cupped your hands, letting water pour over his head.

diluc gently shook his head, moving his hair away from his face as he pulled you back to his chest. he held a washcloth in one palm, already full of soap as he trailed it across your shoulders and arms.

he felt you shift against him when he trailed it across your chest, your nipples peaking when he teased the fabric over them. "hey-" you protested, though you fell silent when his other hand smoothed down your waist and rested on your inner thigh.

"i thought we were taking care of you." your head turned back to face him as he shrugged.

"you already have. if anything, i should be making it up to you for keeping you up so late." he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek before mouthing down your neck, feeling your head tilt to give him more room to work.

"if you insist." you laughed softly, your steady breaths turning into gasps as he sucked gentle marks into your skin. his fingers came upwards to tease your inner thighs, grazing over your lower lips. "diluc..." you sighed when he swiped over your clit with his index finger.

"just relax." he prompted you, kissing your temple and moving his fingers with more purpose. his other hand had abandoned the washcloth in favor of trailing his fingers across your skin, tracing unknown patterns into your arm.

your breath hitched when his thumb pressed into your clit, other fingers moving to circle near your entrance. you could both hear and feel his soft breaths next to your ear, shivering as his fingers prodded at your pussy.

you let out a soft whimper when he began to insert one of his fingers, keeping his thumb steady on circling and playing with your clit. "oh, 'luc-" you moved one of your hands to tug at your lips, biting your cheek.

diluc continued to ease his finger into you, letting you grow accustomed to the feeling before inserting another. "good, you're so good for me." he murmured, kissing your cheek and the top of your head as you shuddered against his chest.

his fingers moved deeper into you, searching for the spongy spot he had grown familiar with. he loved watching your expressions as he pressed into it, when you lost yourself in pleasure to all of the sensations. more than anything, he was proud you were able to let go in his presence, focus on nothing else but the moment.

he could tell when he found it, feeling your hips cant upwards and your body twitch. "fuck-" curses spilled from your lips as he continued to press into that spot, feeling your walls constrict around his digits.

"good?" he asked you softly as you nodded rapidly.

"yes, yes, good!" you half-sobbed, overwhelmed by the stimulation as your legs began to shake. "close, 'luc, getting close."

"you can come when you're ready." he mumbled into your scalp, continuing to move his fingers inside of you until he felt both your pussy and thighs clamp around him, back arching as you coated his hand.

he soothed you by slowing his fingers until you relaxed against him, whining at the overstimulation.

"come on, time to get dressed." his voice roused you from your drowsiness.

"mmm, don't wanna."

"the water is gross now, we might need to shower again after this." he sighed, hearing you laugh softly, leaning up to kiss his lips.

"alright, let's hurry up then. we need to get to bed before the sun comes up."

[just-a-dinosaur-i-guess]

slamming my head in your inbox. HELLO

nikoran + “don’t choke”

scarlet crime + nightmare

lemon futon + explosions

HIII. don't hurt ur head in my inbox...

nikoran + "don't choke"

Cafe Uzumaki is rarely calm, but this is new. Lucy stares at Ranpo, sitting across from Nikolai, and sighs. Perhaps she should be more concerned about a terrorist being in here, but it's not as if he's the first, so she isn't really compelled to give a shit, considering he won't be the last. However. "Don't choke," Nikolai cooes, smearing cake across Ranpo's cheek before actually feeding it to them. Lucy grimaces. Nikolai's gloves look ruined already, not to mention- She storms over, slamming a hand down on the table, "Can you not?" Nikolai gives her an innocent look and replies, as Ranpo grins, "I have no clue what you mean!"

scarlet crime + nightmare

Mushitaro is no stranger to nightmares, but it's different this time. He's properly alone this time. No Ivan, no Pushkin, no annoying priests. (And Poe is busy elsewhere, not that he'd like his company now anyway.) Because that priest has had his mind broken, and Mushitaro didn't even know it was going to happen. It leaves a bitter taste in his mind to think about. Knowing that Nathaniel didn't even tell him before it all went down. He drags himself out of bed, throat itchy as he drags himself to the kitchen. The water is cold, and he lets it run over his hands for a while. The chill is unpleasant, but grounding, and he swears if he stares too long he can see scarlet blood draining into the sink too. Not that he ever has to actually wash his hands like he did.

lemon futon + explosions

Kajii's hair is ash-stained, his face the same, and Katai just huffs at him as he wipes it off with a rag. "You're so careless, Kajii." Kajii leans into the touch, "I'm not! I just don't have to be as careful as other people!" Katai eyes the cuts and scrapes from debris on Kajii's hands, his legs, but.. doesn't push it. "Sure, sure.." He sighs, slumping against him, "But could you be a bit more careful?" Kajii's about to protest, but Katai kisses some of the ash off his cheek and adds, "For me, if nothing else.." Kajii blinks, then leans in and gives him a peck in return, grin a little softer, "Sure!"

[its-actually-minicika]

Hey bestie! How do you think hw aemond, jace and hogwarts aemond,jace, and aegon would be with reader who gets horrible menstrual cramps? And weird food cravings too if you can (I just smeared some tomate paste on a rice cake after spending some time in fetal position thanks to my cramps). Feel free to add any other character you like. I'd love see your thoughts on this. Thanks in advance ���� Love you

The Five Boyfriends - Collect Them All

Pairings: Jacaerys x Reader, Aemond x Reader (bookcanon and showcanon), Aegon x Reader;

Warnings: None! This is very much crackfic material

Author's Note: I hope you're feeling better and aren't cramping too much, Heart Nonny! Please have some fun headcanons in these trying times <33

For the sake of this post, you're in an etablished relationship with all of them, okay? Okay.

The "Harshest Winters" Gang:

☆ Jacaerys Velaryon (Strong) ☆

He would 100% join you in your insanity when it comes to weird food combinations

HE'S LITERALLY SO SO ATTENTIVE

Jace would do anything to ensure you're comfortable.

You need to lay down? Let him bring you some more pillows--

You need more pelts so you get warmer? He's already on it.

If you tell him you're in pain due to your cramps, he highkey panics like no tomorrow

HE IS NOT EQUIPPED FOR THAT, OKAY? HE HAS 4 YOUNGER BROTHERS, HOW COULD HE KNOW WHAT THAT ENTAILS FOR YOUR HEALTH AND HAPPINESS

Calls seven maesters in before you can even tell him your discomfort is not life and death related;

They end up giving you something to aid your heavy flow, though, so it's not all that bad.

"I love you so, so much, my sweet love. I just want you to know that."

"Jace, calm down, I'm not dying."

Will keep a hand over your lower abdomen and gently apply pressure to take the edge off your pain;

His skin is literally burning up all the time (a Prince of the "blood of the dragon", indeed), and he gives the best hugs in the Seven Kingdoms.

Feel free to use him as your personal radiator any day at any time!

Will drop anything to stay in bed with you, and will encourage you to just relax while he does all the work.

He'll nonchalantly ask his mother tips on things he can do for you while you're going through your monthly cycle.

1000/10 he broke the wholesome scale long ago.

"I could never imagine going through such a thing. And every month...? I know lords who faint at the sight of a small cut - you must be the bravest person I know, my love."

Stan Jace he just loves you so much and he will do anything for you, even if you don't ask him to.

☆ Aemond Targaryen ☆

I hope you like period sex 😍😚

No. I'm not joking.

He read ten books on the subject of female anatomy, and each recommends sex as a way "to ease the maiden's pain"

He lays the question as something that would just help you feel better

But let's face it

This mf is gross and would have you 24/7, no matter the state you're in

Just tell him he can have sex with you and he's up and ready to go

Please???

Please tell him you want to have sex with him.

Would still eat you out

1000%

Even if you're against the idea, did you hear him stutter???

"You know better than anyone else how much blood I've seen throughout my life. I won't faint at the sight of yours. So just lay down and let me take care of it."

"Nope. No way."

Homeboy is flabbergasted when he sees you eat your corn bread with bitter wine and mustard.

He still supports you, although he greatly encourages you to not try anything too weird, so that your stomach pains don't become worse.

He gets really pissy if you ignore his advice.

But he'll just whisk your hair away from your face as you eat, and gently caress your skin.

He made the mistake to argue with you while you were on your period once, and he instantly regretted it.

Never again, he learnt his lesson.

If you're clingy with him during your monthly blood flow, Aemond will drop everything just to stay in bed with you.

He's an attention whore, and just wants you all to himself.

Your period is his excuse to keep you attached to his hip, and ignore all his royal duties to take care of you.

"Just so you know... If you were swelling with my child, you woudn't have to go through this."

The HotD Main Three:

☆ Jacaerys Velaryon ☆

Jace is an absolute sweetheart, in any universe I insert him in;

Much of his behaviour with you will be the same as his HW counterpart;

He will skip class with you, so that you may relax in his dorm, no questions asked.

He puts some elevator music on his IPhone while you guys chill in bed;

Gets you some of those nifty magical pills that subdue your cramps and give you a lot of energy to start your day right.

You have any cravings?? ALRIGHT BET

He sneaks into the Kitchens and makes you whatever you want;

Homeboy's a chef - he will bibbidi bobbidi boo you anything, just say the word.

Hypes you tf up and tells you you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen, if you feel bloated or uncomfortable in your skin.

Once again, you can't go wrong by choosing Jace.

☆ Aemond Targaryen ☆

Because you guys don't get to see each other much throughout the day (different schedules and all that jazz), Aemond sort of figures out you're on your monthly cycle when he escorts you from your Dorm to the Great Hall.

You don't look bad, or behave any differently - but your expression slightly changes while you guys descend the stairs.

And he instantly knows you're hurting somewhere.

He questions you sharply on your current state and doesn't falther even once.

"Aemond, relax, I'm just on my... thing, you know?"

"Thing?"

"... My period."

"... Oh."

He carries you down the stairs (he won't accept a no for an answer), and constantly asks if he can do anything else for you.

His momma raised him right, and he has an older sister - unlike Jace, he knows exactly what he's doing, and revels in showing you that.

Can you see? Can you see how good he's being for you???

Doesn't that make you think he'd be the perfect husband for you?

Cough cough

Lowkey gets overprotective of you and keeps a hand over yours the whole night.

He gives a lot of nasty stares to any student who eyes you funny while you're doing your lil food combos;

If you offer to make him the same thing you're eating, he's accept without a second thought.

Even if the food is TERRIBLE, he'll put on the best mf performance of his life to make you feel good.

"This is really good."

"Really?? Would you like one more slice?"

"... Sure. I'd love one more."

... Fun fact: Hogwarts!Aemond has a very sensitive stomach.

By the time he reached his dorm with his usual large steps and impassive expression, the green of his tie matched the hue on his face.

He's a simp tho

So he'd do it all over again, if it meant seeing you so happy

☆ Aegon Targaryen ☆

You're on your period? :D

So you can have unprotected sex with him, is what he's hearing

No? That's not what it means????

OH COME ON MAN

Many many many bad jokes

He won't stop making them, no matter how many times you tell him to chill

"I'd dip my fry into your ketchup packet."

"OH MY GOD-"

Side eye

SIDE MF EYE

He gives you many stupid pet names that make you want to roll your eyes at him, but that end up making you laugh instead;

They include: "my lil red tube paint", "my lil arts and crafts project", "my squishy jelly filled doughnut" etc.

Aegon is a foodie, and his dorm is perfectly placed for certain nightly escapades.

He'll break into the Kitchens with you at midnight, and make as many food combos with you as you'd like;

If you feel like skipping class, he'll stay in with you lmao

But tbh he skips class almost every day, so is your period really the reason he dipped on Herbology?

[sweet-self-indulgence]

Bleeding Out Part 3: Bonus Pizza Intermission Chapter

I had this scene in my head while writing, but I didn’t want tonal whiplash in either of the other 2 chapters. So, here’s some bonus fluff where they suffer only a little bit. <- when I wrote this note I thought there would be significantly less emotions 🙃

Also, a formal apology to Damien fans. I love him too! I just couldn’t see him doing anything other than being non-verbal in response to this kind of stress.

“You all look like shit.”

The comment is so undeniably Sam. Relief washes over Mika. He’s here, he’s really here!

The other incubi are roused by the sound of his voice as well. James, Erik, and Matthew all start talking over each other

“We need updates on—”

“—energy is okay for now—”

“Dude! What happen—”

Mika tunes them out and focuses on Sam. Their intertwined hands squeeze reassuringly. A tear slides down her cheek and drops into her lap. Sam’s eyes go wide, he lifts his head a fraction before—

“Oh, shit he fainted!”

“Thank you, Matthew”, James sighs. He goes to slide his glasses up his nose but startles when he finds no glasses there. He looks down at his hand tainted a deep golden yellow. “We need energy, fast.”

Erik chimes in, “and to clean up”, gesturing with his bloodied hand towards Mika, Damien, and Matthew with their own copious blood stains.

“Not to mention the, uh—mess in the entryway…” Mathew adds.

“And sleep is a thing”, Mika’s so exhausted that her eyes feel like sandpaper.

“Okay.” James holds his hand up, “Mika, call in some delivery then go and wash up. You’ll have to get the food at the door. It typically takes 30 minutes for delivery. Erik and I can clean the foyer while Matthew and Damien wash up.”

“I’ll stay here with Sam I don’t need to wash up”, Mika volunteers.

James kneels in from of her and states gently, but firmly, “We need you to interact with the driver. We won’t be able to glamor until we get some food and rest.”

Mika opens her mouth to argue but is cut off, “You can take the first shift watching Sam while you make the call. I’ll come relive you, then switch with Erik. By then Matthew or Damien should be done.”

Reluctant to admit defeat, at least verbally, Mika pulls out her phone and starts dialing the closest pizza parlor. James nods and places a warm hand on her shoulder before scattering with the rest of his brothers.

She intends to draw the call out, maybe she can spend 15 minutes with Sam, but as soon as he hears the employee on the other end of the line ask, “What can I get for you?”, a ravenous hunger takes over her mind. She simply states, “One thousand dollars worth of pizza.”

For some reason this does not phase the employee, payment details are exchanged quickly, and Mika has the customary half hour until delivery.

James comes to relive her all too early. The sickening smell of blood and cleaning chemicals wafts in with him. Mika fights back the nausea but elects to take the back stairway up to her room.

When she enters her bathroom, her reflection takes her by surprise. The woman she sees is absolutely filthy. She’s soaked in blood from her feet to her knees, with splatter across her thighs. Her hands are stained almost to the elbows and there are generous smears across her cheek and forehead and into her hair.

Mika glances at her nice deep bathtub longingly then shakes her head. In my state I’d just be sitting in a pool of bloody water after five minutes. She sighs and turns the shower to its hottest setting. Dried blood cracks and falls onto the floor as Mika peels her grimy clothes off. Sam’s blood has soaked through to stain her skin in places.

She sits in the shower, scrubbing one body part at a time. When the water swirling the drain finally runs clear, Mika reaches up to turn off the water. She wraps a towel around herself as she steps out of the tub.

A hand reaches up to wipe the condensation off the mirror. Mika’s stomach roils as she notices the blood caked under her fingernails. She scrubs her hands frantically in the sink, jamming whatever tools she can finger under her nails to scrub the blood out.

The sink suddenly turns off. Mika startles as she sees Damien in the mirror. He’s dripping wet from his shower too. He gently grabs her fingers, pulls them up to his lips and kisses her knuckles softly. He grabs a towel and pats her hands dry. Mika winces as he rubs lotion into her hands, it stings where the skin is rubbed raw.

“I’m sorry”, Mika feels her chin wobble, “It’s just all too much right now…”

Damien rubs her arms, then drags her into her bedroom. He pulls sweatpants, a t-shirt, fuzzy socks, and cotton underwear from her dresser. As he turns to leave, Mika catches his elbow. Without argument, he sits at the end of the bed and dutifully stares at the floor while she puts on the clothes.

When she finishes, she sits beside him and pulls him in for a hug. Suddenly she notices he’s also wearing sweatpants. She knows how much he prefers his human form so it’s not that surprising. But no shirt?, she thinks.

Damien taps a finger on his horn in response. Of course, the neck hole…Mika shoots off the bed and produces one of Sam’s flannel button downs from the closet. Damien gratefully takes the offered shirt.

As he buttons it, the doorbell causes both of them to jump. Mika dashes to the front door, she snaps her eyes shut against the intrusive memories as her feet land on the final step. She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes to find the room surprisingly clean. The faint smell of bleach causes her to wrinkle her nose, but at least the stench of blood is gone.

The doorbell startles her out of her thoughts, and she runs to open the door, “Sorry I was—Wow that’s a lot of food!”

The delivery driver shrugs their shoulders, “Guy said you asked for a thousand dollars’ worth.”

“Right. Yeah. I was so hungry I didn’t know what I was saying!” Mika quickly slides the stacks of pizza boxes just inside the door.

As they turn away, the driver mumbles, “stupid rich people.”

Mika sighs in relief as she closes the door. She grabs a handful of boxes and meets the hungry incubi in the living room. The room is quiet at first as everyone devours their own pizza.

The aching, hollow, hunger she feels surprises Mika, even after devouring an entire pie by herself. Wordlessly, she grabs another armload of boxes from where she left them stacked by the door. The boys must feel the same way since they pounce on the second helping as quickly as the first.

A few slices in, Mika is able to focus on something other than eating again. “What the fuck?”, she blurts out. Four concerned expressions whip around to face her. Mika can only point towards James’ hand where he holds two slices of pizza folded on top of each other so that the cheese is inside two crusts.

“Is something wrong with my food?”

James looks genuinely alarmed, and Mika quickly clarifies, “Why are you holding it like that?!”

“I… To not make a mess?”

“…to not make a mess…”, Mika parrots quietly as she looks around the living room. We just waded through an ocean of blood together, we’re sitting on the floor cause it’s going to take a miracle to get all the blood out of the furniture… and James is worried about crumbs.

Mika can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of her. There’s a manic edge to her laughter, it’s a little too loud and a little too long.

After a few moments of stunned silence, Matthew starts laughing with her. Between laughs he manages to wheeze out, “Bro- Bro, that’s psychotic!”

“Don’t be melodramatic!” James snaps, “It’s the best way to keep the toppings from sliding off!”

At this, Erik fights through a smirk, “You’ve managed to take all the pleasure out of eating! I bet you can’t even taste anything other than dry crust!”

“Wha- You to?” James seems almost offended. He looks to Damien who only shakes his head solemnly.

The rest of the room devolves into another round of giggles as James stares at the ceiling, theatrically dejected. He holds his much-maligned pizza high and unfolds it with a flourish. Mika, Erik, and Matthew cheer as though a great victory has been won.

Matthew and Damien make a game out of trying to eat their remining slices in the strangest ways possible. Highlights include folding inside out and rolling the tip of the triangle around the crust.

Erik starts bartering slices of his plain cheese for some of James’ double pepperoni. Only after James absolutely swindles Erik out of 3 slices, does Mika mention “Oh there’s still some more out in the hall—”

“And you let this fiend take advantage of me?!”  Erik puts a hand over his heart in mock indignation.

Mika grins broadly and shrugs in response, “I just wanted to see how badly you’d get conned.”

James and Mika shared a quick laugh at Erik’s expense. Their moment is quickly interrupted by a startlingly loud noise from Damien. All heads whip in his direction as he shakes in the doorway with his hands over his mouth.

“I can explain—" Mika starts, but James, Erik, and Matthew are already up and out the door.

“I know I said we need to eat but…” James trails off as he stares at the ludicrous amount of pizza still in the entryway.

“I may—” another fit of giggles overtake Mika, “I may have let my stomach do the talking!”

Damien lets out another howl of laughter from where he’s leaning bodily on Erik. James and Matthew deliver a large stack of boxes and immediately begin bickering as they search for their favorite combinations of toppings.

“I’m not giving you the supreme, you’re just going to pick all the olives off of it.”

“Yeah, but you always want to add them to whatever you’re eating anyway, so it’s a win-win!”

Mika picks up empty boxes and starts stacking them in the corner.

“Incoming!” Matthew shouts.

She barely manages to dodge the airborne box, laughing as she has to support the tower as it lands haphazardly on top. “What was that?! You almost sent the whole stack down!”

“You need more finesse, Matthew!” Erik teases as he flings his empty box like a frisbee, it lands much more gracefully.

Soon it’s a new competition. The room cheerly wildly whenever a box lands. The boys take turns trying to teach Mika the proper form for box throwing, but she never manages to land hers.

It turns out five magic users, heavily depleted of energy, can eat a lot of pizza. By the time the limits of their stomachs catch up with their energy needs, they’ve made an impressive stack of boxes that’s almost as tall as Mika.

She feels punch-drunk. Everything is hilarious, even the fact that she’s giggling at everything that happens is funny. Mika presses her palms into her ribs in hopes of alleviating the muscle cramps from laughing too hard.

Matthew wipes tears from the corners of his eyes between fits of giggles, “I think—I think we need to go to bed before we explode!”

Another wave of chuckles ripples through the room. Damien gets up and pokes James in the ribs, “Hmm? Oh yes, we should have extras.”

The pair disappear briefly and return with a handful of vials. Erik and Matthew each grab one. Erik raises his hand in a toast, “To living another day!”

The other demons echo his words, and they down the potions in unison. Their appearance seems to ripple and blur, or maybe my eyes are just too tired. Mika rubs her eyes and represses a yawn. When she opens her eyes, the boys look human again.

Mika’s should sag a few inches as she releases tension she didn’t know she was holding. The normalcy of the situation warms her, it could almost be any other night when they all accidentally stay up too late. She turns to look at Sam for the first time in what feels like hours. He’s still in his demon form, unconscious, with pressure bandages tied tight around his middle.

Almost.

[yeonsols-garden]

Chapter 145 discussion

First of all, let's just praise Esol for how much better her art style has gotten over the years, especially her expressions! The way Junhyuk looks as he is talking to the trash that will not be named it's just amazing. The utterly dead look in his eyes. The blood smeared all over his face and clothing. The horror, boredom, and disgust that you can feel off of the screen as he talks down to this human feces as he is beaten and bruised is just immaculate and I will forever sing Esol's praises in every single review that I'm going to make because of how amazing her art style has become. The expressions and the detail are just so good I can rave about that alone.

Also ALL HAIL JUNHYUK FOR PUTTING THAT MAN IN HIS PLACE!!!

I needed this bastard to get beaten to a pulp so badly and to have the icing on the cake that Junhyuk not only decimated him (while being a so-called cripple mind you) but he has taken pictures of the bastard that shall not be named in such a vulnerable position…

The way my mouth hung open when I read him blackmailing this man! I was left gagged and ecstatic. I have never been prouder in my life!!! I wanted this so bad and got it so good. The way the page is shaded when he is saying his last words to the trash that will not be named THAT RIGHT THERE is SUCH a cold-ass panel. Everything about that radiates disturbing and unimaginable levels of fucked up but it's amazing! What makes it better is the way that it is implied that Junhyuk marred the bastard's face in some way with that pan of the camera to the glass shard!!! I already know something is going to happen in the future because knowing Esol and the mastermind this woman is she wouldn’t put a panel like that and not have it mean something. I love how she adds bits of foreshadowing to elude to what is going to happen in the future out in plain sight, it’s so good and such a fun game to play when I go back and reread the series for the umpteenth time.

I'm terrified for when the human equivalent of cow dung comes back because we all know better. It may seem like everything is “okay” now and resolved when it comes to the middle school bully situation but it is not. We all know he's going to come back cuz he's insane. This man is a psychopath and psychopaths wouldn’t know the words *leave us alone* if it slapped them across the face. If you beat him up he will come back and try again. This man got beaten by a cripple and even pissed himself it may be sweet revenge for us but he's going to come back and do something atrocious. I know he is and I'm anticipating when that happens because we already know Haesol is going to be involved, but that is an essay for another day.

(Let's all pray for our hearts because we already know Esol is going to rip that shreds and then feed it to a cow for it to s*** it out)

And as is typical with Esol and her amazing storytelling of course there's nuance after the scene. The fact that Junhyuk does not feel happy or even a bit of satisfaction from what he did does show that he is such a good person. It also shows how messed up his mental state was at this moment and I love how every artistic choice that was made in the next few panels that was done to show it. The black of the panels that indicate this is a flashback not only helps to show how bad his mental state was at the time and probably still is but it also adds to that air of unease.

This is a chapter where we finally understand how deeply that comment of “you and Yeonwoo are not normal” really hurt him. Because not only has everyone been telling him this but his recent actions of him beating up his bully are somewhat affirming this. It is ruining him because he feels as though there's nothing else he can do and he's right in a way. In a situation like this, there are so many factors that come into play as to why he cannot do anything. The police will not help you because when it comes to bullying and Korean laws regarding that everything is so messy and nothing is ever really done. The adults cannot do a thing because that bully's parents are probably rich, which is probably why he is allowed to get away with everything that he does. That little conversation that Junhyuk and the trash that will not be named had about him suing Junhyuk already hints at that. They cannot tell their parents because Yeonwoo will not allow Junhyuk to tell his parents what happened because of the mental scarring that incident did to him.

It really is a trapped situation, there are so many outside and internal factors that are preventing them from doing anything, and the fact that this is what Junhyuk feels like he needs to do to protect his best friend and himself is honestly understandable. With everything that has happened between them is however going to take a toll on his mental health.

His grappling with the fact that he did that is honestly just a sign of how good of a person this guy is. What he did was honestly probably not as bad as what that guy did to Yeonwoo but it has mentally scarred him. Junhyuk knows that. Junhyuk knows that but he still feels bad, he still has his morals about him, even in a situation where he is 100% in the right and the panel where he is looking at himself in the mirror and he sees himself is actually kind of heartbreaking.

The mental and emotional trauma that he has been carrying this entire time is so heavy that you can see how tired, how scared, and how confused he is from that expression alone.

This chapter also goes a lot deeper into Junhyuk's side of codependency in a way that is so compelling. He cares for Yeonwoo we know that but when Junhyuk said he told Yeonwoo what he did in the infirmary to keep him by his side I automatically drew parallels to when Yeonwoo was going to “jump” and kill himself. The intention of hurting yourself to scare the other or display pure terror in order to keep the other close to you is a theme with these two and it just shows how tied they are to each other. When Yeonwoo threatened to jump and Junhyuk saved him that look of terror at the realization that his best friend was going to die was the same one Yeonwoo wor when Junhyuk cried to him about how what Yeonwoo was doing, getting into situations that didn’t involve him only to ultimately also get beaten up being no different from self-harm is the exact same thing Yeonwoo did. Just in different font.

* Both of them are terrified of moving forward

* Both of them cling to each other like a lifeline

* Both of them are terrified of the other leaving them whether that is them getting better and going past their trauma or physically leaving them.

Junhyuk grappling with his dilemma of whether should he be friends with Yeonwoo because he feels as though he's not helping him. Should he even be allowed to be near Yeonwoo because he feels as though he is in fact hurting him? And that lashing out at the infirmary is really important because it really shows how Junhyuk is also scared of progress. Throughout the story, we get hints of Junhyuk and how uneasy he is about the fact that YW is changing so much. And even more paranoid that the reason for this change is haesol. This right here is honestly a really interesting and ironic revelation that he's scared of the change that is happening with Yeonwoo because he feels as though Yeonwoo is actively leaving him while he is still stuck in Middle School.

It parallels Yeonwoo so well because he feels the exact same way. That moment when Yeownoo is going to Haesol’s house and he asks Junhyuk if he is coming along when Junhyuk says no and leaves him and Nari to go YW himself at that moment is uneasy. Not at the idea of being at his girlfriend's house but because Junhyuk wouldn’t normally do that. Normally Junhyuk would come along and watch Yeonwoo like a hawk.

That right there is an example of how both of them are scared of moving forward and how their codependent tendencies constantly enable each other.

Junhyuk now realizing this is breaking. This moment is much more sad when you realize what the circumstances had to come to for him to come to that conclusion.

The angst is just so good.

Everything he does for Yeonwoo comes from such good intentions. Junhyuk at the end of the day sees Yeonwoo as his little brother. They have been friends since childhood, he’s seen his ups and downs and everything in between. Of course, he’s naturally protective and he cares for Yeonwoo so much. Junhyuk is willing to break up this friendship with Yeonwoo even if he knows he will be devastated by doing that. The moment just before his flashback leading to his perspective of middle school is more heartwrenching when you are actively thinking about this while reading it again. The platonic angst is actually killing me.

Junhyuk essentially grappling with his humanity and with his friendship with Yeonwoo. The conclusion that he comes to that is entirely logical when you understand his trauma and the circumstances makes complete sense but it doesn't hurt any less. It still hurt leaving Yeonwoo in the middle of the night crying, and wailing as he begged Junhyuk not to leave him.

I bet you Junhyuk cried heavy tears that night.

This flashback was honestly great and I loved it not only did it give me the satisfaction of seeing that piece of trash get absolutely dismantled but it also, in typical Esol fashion, gave us a psychological breakdown of Junhyuk and his mental state during the moment and why he comes to the conclusion he does.

Absolutely brilliant.

Now on to everybody's favorite MVP NARI.

Man, I love her so much she's absolutely amazing and I ship these two so hard. Nari is literally like the beacon of sunshine that we needed in this chapter because not only is she amazing at consoling Junhyuk and his whirlwind of deprecating thoughts of how horrible of a person he thinks himself to be for doing something that is honestly justified but the just subtle not so subtle closeness that these two share in this moment is just such good food omg.

Especially after everything that has happened recently in the roller coaster ride that is Junhyuk and Yeonwoo reconciling. Their make-up was great but it was very unfulfilling.

Nari consoling Junhyuk is something that has filled that gap of what Junhyuk and Yeonwoo’s reconciliation was supposed to be.

Junhyuk and Yeonwoo reconciling was good and amazing in the moment it was coming out but it could have been better. I know that Esol made it that way for a reason as everything is with her, she is incredibly intentional with everything that she writes but I was still left unsatisfied (as is probably Esol’s intention) and this chapter healed a lot of that.

This moment really solidifies how great of a friend Nari is and how in tune with her friends she is. Her ability to tell that Junhyuk is not okay and her not backing down and trying to figure out what happened to him is just top-tier friend behavior.

We love her for that.

Her advice is honestly great and when she tells Junhyuk that he is a good person and the trembling of his lip afterward as he cries… it's all so incredibly bittersweet.

Junhyuk airing out his thoughts of regret, pain, and confusion, it's just so raw and you really feel for him. He thinks he's just scum of the earth even though what happened was completely out of his and Yeonwoo’s control and how what he did was honestly justified given the situation he was in and the context of it.

I love how Nari, when she finds out that Junhyuk beat up a guy, as in really beating someone up to the point of death, doesn't berate him or judge him, no she looks at him like he is her friend because he is and gives him sound advice. She does this because she knows Junhyuk. She knows the kind of person he is and she knows that he will only ever get violent to protect those that are close to him and it touches my soul.

“You are a good person Nam Junhyuk I believe that you are a good person”

Never have I felt so much relief as I did when she said those words because throughout the chapter you feel the despair that Junhyuk is in and you genuinely want to tell him yourself that he is not a bad person and that the circumstances that have happened and what he did were not wrong. You want to scream and shout at your screen and tell him “You're not a bad person you were just pushed into doing a bad thing because of a piece of trash”. You just want to give him a hug and tell him it's not his fault and to have Nari do that and console him, take his hand, and say “You're not a bad person” It is just the most euphoric rush of dopamine I have had to date.

And the way the sunlight is just showering our girl and making her look absolutely stunning ESOL absolutely knows how to use the setting to her advantage every. single. time.

You look at Nari like the ray of sunshine she is in this moment because that is exactly what she represents. In the dark and despair that was the majority of this chapter us going through this journey of Junhyuk doubting himself, of him doubting his relationship with Yeonwoo, of him going down the spiral of self-hate and self-deprecation, her coming in and stopping that, telling him that he's a good person and reaffirming her constant claim that they are friends and that she'll be there for him and that she knows he's a good person

It is that good closure that we needed after chapters of despair and it hits. so. good!!!

It is just amazing and I know that there are things that I am not touching on because I feel as though there are deeper parts of this chapter that I'm missing but as of right now this chapter is honestly up there in one of my favorites. Even though it is not Yeonsol-focused, it is a chapter that does such a good job of executing the foreshadowing that has been sprinkled throughout while also giving us that satisfying conclusion to one of our beloved characters and the turmoil they have faced.

The comedy tag in the series is actually hanging on by a thread because at the end of this Junhyuk saying “You are one smooth talker”, even though this scene is emotional and as we watch the tears flow down his face while he devoers his corndog and Nari patting his back while scolding him gently for eating too fast, it’s just so comical you can't help but smile.

Leave it to Esol to add some light comedy at the end of a chapter like this just because. God, I love this woman

This chapter was honestly great and I really liked it but yet again I say this about like every single chapter because I'm obsessed with this series.

Now the next chapter through chapter 146 THAT chapter??? Best believe I'm going to go off when that essay comes along because the way that chapter is actually insane!!!

Yeonsol is so BACK

AND THESE TWO CAME BACK SWINGING!!!

I'll try to get that analysis out tomorrow because I'm so happy that my babies are back I miss them so much. But for this chapter, we definitely got a top-tier Nari x Junhyuk moment to add to the tally because it was bittersweet, relieving, and overall light-hearted that I can't quite put into coherent words how good this chapter made me feel.

[skepsiss]

Extremely roughly I fooled around to try and come up with some looks for the Corroded Coffin guys as their stage makeup. Metal guys go so hard, especially in the 80s, so I wanted them to have some unique looks. Especially with them getting older and being able to grow beards and the likes! I've also included some nicknames (not stage names, just fan-made titles/names); I don't have one for Eddie yet, I need to think more on that.

Eddie: Leaned a little more into the glam look. I was thinking something kind of "messy" looking. It would be messy on purpose so as Eddie sweats on stage his makeup would run and just add to the overall look. So, black eye makeup that has a smeared effect, semi-Viking inspired, and then glam lipstick but smudges that too so it either looks like he was just making out with someone or there is blood around his mouth. I imagine Eddie plays shirtless a lot or at the very least eventually strips down to just pants while on stage from the heat. Other descriptions under the cut.

Jeff "Axe-Smith" Smithers: I imagine he has some religious background with his family, but they're not particularly bothered by his music. Though they don't love him using religious symbolism in a blasphemous way. I think a lot more of Jeff's LOOK would be in his outfit rather than makeup (probably a lot of black leather with white striking points), but his stage look would involve him having a beard. Grow his beard out and then there would be simple white eyeliner on one eye with a cross drawn under it coming from the corner of his eye. (I think his nickname comes from DnD campaign where he played a dwarf that was called Hammersmith and that got adapted into a fun inside joke with him being "so good at playing the axe" (guitar) which evolved into Axe-Smith).

Gareth "the Don of Drums" Bourdon: he would start out earlier in their career with stage makeup and then move on to wearing a mask because that is just so much easier for him as a drummer. To start he would draw the lower portion of a skull on his jawline with the teeth and stuff. But the mask he adopts just covers the bottom portion of his face and is either a jawbone effect or the bottom portion of a skull that covers his chin and mouth (with a mouth-breathing hole, lol). I think he would also grow his hair longer and wear headbands in the metal style. Gareth would also be all about ripped t-shirts and jeans because he prioritizes movement/comfort while he plays. ("the Don" obviously comes from the last portion of his name bour-DON). [Unnamed freak] Benson Redd (given name: Alec Benson-Redd): he grows his hair longer and grows a beard, really adopting a much more "Viking" look. I think it would make him feel badass while not forcing him in any way to lose weight. The makeup is more simple with two red lines down his face that he purposefully cakes into his beard at the bottom. Though outfit-wise I don't think he is particularly "Viking-like" and leans heavier into the metal look with heavy leather coats and things like that. (I personally think Benson hates his first name "Alec" and goes by Benson and then when stage names happen he goes by Benson Redd as if his last name alone was Redd. Maybe he even permanently changes it when he gets older).

[mossarchives]

After trying to not bully Wyn by saying this song reminds me of him I have now given him a song that reminds me of him

Lagtrain - inabakumori

: ) sorry son boy

THIS GOT AWAY FROM ME SO BAD KSDHFKS Thank u for enabling the part of my brain that never shuts up about my favorite OC <3

I went all the way back to Monster Haus Wyn (with some names swapped for their nulliverse counterparts) for you so naturally: TW: Mentions of Death

—

With a flick of his wrist and two fingers pinched on the wooden sign The Chosen Brew goes from 'closed' to 'open'. Wyn double checks that the lock is upright and then shuffles back behind the counter to wait.

It's raining outside, a steady flow of water sliding down the wide windows and turning the sidewalk outside into a smear. He can hear Emery moving around in the back, transferring sweet smelling cookies out of the oven for a sheet pan of coffee cake.

Wyn swipes a pen from the cup beside the cash register, needing to occupy his twitching fingers. He's only been awake for two hours but his head is twisting itself into knots. It's pathetic. There was so much he was supposed to be happy about. He should be in a better mood, should be molding his lips into the light smile he's finally perfected, but his eyes refuse to focus how he wants them.

His sister had applied to a college two towns over, close enough to visit with ease but far enough that living in a dorm would be best. After living in a bed and breakfast for nearly a year, a dorm seemed downright luxurious.

Emery was also moving house, now that things had gotten more serious with Isadora. Still in Asher's Glenn, of course, because The Chosen Brew would have to be pried from her cold, dead hands and one would have to get through Wyn and Lochlann first. She'd already applied for her favorite of the handful she and Isadora had toured, and all hands were preemptively on deck to help her pack.

Then there was Wyn.

Static. That's his issue. Time ticks ever onward and leaves him scrambling to catch up. He can't go to college like his sister, or even see about getting an apartment anywhere. Legally, Wyn doesn't exist, and he's never using Dimitri Winthrop on anything ever again.

He's long overstayed his welcome at The Bird's Nest, but there isn't really anywhere else to go. He couldn't exactly move into his sister's dorm. Chasing him from Oregon to New York was one thing, but following to her college was another. He could ask Ryouma, but his apartment above the library was fairly small, and Wyn wasn't sure he was ready for that step in their tentative relationship. His options were shaping up to be hiding out in the storeroom or moving into the dormant Monster House.

He's not going to ask Emery. She already feeds and pays him, he's not going to add giving him a place to stay to his never ending debt.

“Wyn.”

He lets out a yelp, the pen jolted from his hand as he jumps. Lochlann is standing on the other side of the counter, waiting, staring at him.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Lochie!” He clutches his chest, trying to force his soul back into place. “How long have you been standing there?!”

Lochlann shrugs. “A few minutes. You didn't notice.”

“No shit.” Wyn lets out another wheeze, trying to get his heart to resume normal human activities. As much as he loves Lochie, her arrival had reminded him of the final nail in his coffin: the impending failure of his body. Every time she says his name he feels his soul lurch, the unfortunate price for being friends with a dullahan while on the fast track to death. If he's lucky he's got ten years until the blood ritual really starts to tear him apart from the inside.

Just another one of the many ways the world is leaving him behind. Lovely.

Lochlann bends down and retrieves the pen he'd inadvertently thrown at her. “Is everything okay?”

The lie is almost trivial at this point. “Yeah, just tired. What can I get you?”

She scans the shelves of tea behind him. “I liked that lavender tea you gave me last week, could I get that?”

“Sure thing.” Wyn turns to fetch a mug and the tea she's requested. He doesn't get why Emery puts the tea so high up, even he has to stretch and he's much taller than her. She's going to need a step stool when he's...

Nevermind.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Emery steps out of the kitchen dual wielding trays of breakfast pastries. She gently hip checks Wyn out of the way as she passes and sets them down on the counter.

“Good morning, Lochie.” Emery twists to the side to look at Wyn, one hand braced against her hip. “And you, did you eat?” Wyn squints, trying to think, and Emery just rolls her eyes. She sets a danish on a plate and slides it towards him, ready for consumption once he's done serving Lochie.

He sneaks a few drops of lavender scented oil into her tea so the smell is stronger and then passes it over. “Here you go, one human-passing cup of tea for you.”

“Thank you.” Lochie reaches out, stiffly, and ruffles his hair, making him sputter in annoyance. Emery laughs as she slips past him to grab more pastries for the case, and Lochlann is already in her window seat by the time he's combed his hair from his face.

Sighing, Wyn turns to start making Emery a latte, shoving the danish between his teeth as he goes about the familiar motions. It was a new recipe morning, so he knows that she hasn't had the chance to drink anything other than her wake up cup of coffee. He's gotten the hang of her seasonal preferences, and Wyn won't lie and say he doesn't enjoy the pride in her voice when she compliments his work.

The routine takes his mind off the darker of his thoughts. Floral teas for Lochlann, flavored lattes for Emery, and black tea with ungodly amounts of honey for Briar. Little habits engraved on the fragile flesh of his heart. To love someone is to take care of them, and maybe that's the one good thing about being static.

It's not going to fix the twists and tangles in his mind, but it's a start. It's better than the Wyn that stumbled into this haunted town, even better than the Wyn that defended it. No matter where everyone else went, he would be here for as long as his body let him.

Wyn was notoriously stubborn after all.

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Mother’s Day

Summary: How the Evans and their kids treat you on Mother’s Day. These were so much fun to write and I may have gone a little over board. Anyway I hope y’all like them!

Also may have some typos since I didn’t have time to proof read it took much! (Cause ya know Mother’s Day)

Peter

-Would forget

-The kids would come and quietly walk over to his side of the bed to wake him up. (You guys have a daughter who’s 7 and a boy who’s 4). He’ll look and them with bleary eyes and they’d be like “Dad come help us.”

-And he’s like “with what?” Already tucking himself back in

-“Breakfast for mama, it’s Mother’s Day”

-“Oh shi-“ He’s ripping the sheets off and speeding out of bed with them under his arms.

- The fridge would be empty and he’d try and convince the kids to let him just buy you McDonalds breakfast but they’d start to cry cause they really wanted to make you breakfast. So he hushes them and dashes to the store picking up an instant box of pancake mix, a carton of eggs and bacon. Also gets you come flowers and a box of candy. (He paid).

- Him and the kids get started on breakfast and they are better at it then he is. Your daughter knows how to flip the pancakes perfectly while his come out all misshapen and runny.

-They honestly don’t get breakfast done till like 10. You had already woken up and walked in on them trying to pick the egg shells out of the eggs that your son cracked. And your just smile at how hard they’re working. You’d go back to bed and let them bring it to you in bed like they want and your act surprised.

- Peter pretends like he didn’t totally forget and promises to to take you and the kids out for a funny day. (It’s probably going to be the arcade.)

-But you don’t mind. You guys have fun playing all the games together. He’ll pull you aside later and tells you how much he loves you. And he thanks you for giving him the world, and tells you how much of an amazing mother you are. He also bashfully gives you this locket he bought you a while back. It’s has all of you in it.

Charles

- Your baby was only about 2 years old so Charles took care of all the Mother’s Day festivities.

- He had been taking pictures of you and y’all’s baby ever since they were born. Has a whole collection of them. So he decides to put them together into a scrapbook for you.

- He spends weeks in advance adding the pictures and writing little notes and memories alongside them. Paints his hand and his daughters and the cover is their handprints onto of one another.

- He makes you a really good southern breakfast, real hearty. (Charles is a really good cook and you can’t fight me on it).

- He walks in holding your daughters hand and treats you to breakfast in bed and tell you all about how he plans to spoil you. He bought you a real pretty sun dress and tells you he planned a picnic for you guys. He made sandwiches and cut them in the shapes of hearts.

-He takes you to the beach and your daughter has so much fun playing in the sand and laughing as the waves tickle her feet.

-As the sun starts setting he gives you your gift. It’s wrapped up all pretty like and the minute you open it you start bawling. And first he thinks you don’t like it but then he sees the loving look in your eyes and you look at all the picture and run your fingers gently over the little messages.

- You pull him close and press kisses all over his face. He sets up his camera and runs back as it snaps a picture of all of you. Once it’s developed you add it to your scrapbook.

Warren

- Wakes you up by jumping up and down on your bed with y’all’s son. Screaming at the top of their lungs Happy Mother’s Day!!!

-Drags you to the kitchen and makes a grand gesture of showing you the breakfast him and your son made. They put a table cloth on the table and they have flowers in the vase. Everything is set up really fancy.

- You try to ignore the mess of dishes in the sink and the stains that litter your counters. How did they get eggs on the ceiling? And is that blood??? You hope not.

- Warren pulls out your chair for you and you thank him. You look down at the breakfast, the toast is all burnt and the eggs have shells in them. You smile and eat what you can hoping you don’t die of food poisoning.

- He planned a self care day for you. He bought you a million different kinds of skin care products and bath products. Let’s you give him and your son skin care treatments and you guys wear them while binge watching your favorite movies. Eating popcorn and all kinds of junk food in the fort him and his son made for you. Warren pretends he hates those cheesy rom coms you like but you can see him sniffling out of the corner of your eye when the wedding scene comes on.

- After you out your son to bed you take a bath with Warren and he washes your hair, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. Has music playing in the background but was too cheap to pay for spodify premium so in the middle of you guys making out you hear click here for 30 minutes-

Luke Cooper

- You would think he would forget but he didn’t. Couldn’t cook to save his life so he went out and got you donuts from your favorite place, also buys some takeout breakfast.

- You have twins they were five and they made you cards in school. They are colored all messy but you don’t care. You kiss them both on the cheek and thank them. Luke was nervous to give you his gift, he was scared you wouldn’t like it.

- He opens up his laptop and places it down on your lap. Gets into bed and sits behind you burying his face in your neck. You press the play button the screen and a video starts playing. It starts with a shaky shot of you after you had given birth to your twins. Crying happy tears and you can hear Luke sniffling behind the camera. You laugh at the memory.

- He had made you a Mother’s Day video filled with all the videos he had taken of you and your kids over the years. Your twins has started school this year so you were still sad about them growing up.

- His video let you relive all those memories of them growing up and raising them with him. When it’s done he shyly asks if you like it.

- You turn around and there are tears streaming down your face. You say it’s the best gift you’ve ever gotten. You kiss and and your kids let out echos of ewwwww.

-Luke smiles and makes a bigger show of kissing you causing the kids to giggle and run away. He pulls away and looks at you. “Do you know how much I love you?” He asks

-Not more than I love you you answer and you guys spent the rest of the morning trying to say who loves who more.

Colin Zabel

- Spoils you the most out of all of them.

- It’s y’all’s first Mother’s Day and he wants it to be perfect. Spends all week running a round town trying to get everything and make sure everything is absolutely perfect.

- You wake up the smell of something heavenly coming from the kitchen. You see him cooking in the kitchen holding your daughter in his arms. He dances with her as he cooks, singing to her in a soft voice.

- He whines when he sees you, he wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed

- You guys finish making breakfast together, singing along to the songs on the radio. He asks you to dance with him and you do. You guys sway with one another your daughter squished between you two giggling.

- The whole house is filled with flowers, every table has a bouquet, you’re pretty sure he bought all the flowers in Easttown.

- Has a whole day planned. Filled with the sweetest activities, like a carriage ride through the park and a cake making class.

- You make the cutest little Mother’s Day cake decorated with flowers and all these little details. And you glance over at him and his cake is all lopsided and the icing is smeared all over his cake. His has icing on his nose and leans over to swipe some on your cheek. You guys get kicked out for making a mess but you don’t care.

- You guys spend all day walking around town hand in hand, Colin has your daughter in one of those baby carriers strapped to his chest. He bought you and her matching dresses for the occasion.

- He finishes the day with taking you the the station claiming he has work to finish. You guys go up the stairs and it’s decorated head to toe with balloons and streamers and pictures of you and him and your daughter. You start crying right then and there wondering how a man could be that sweet.

- Mare offers to take your baby for the night so you guys can spend some time alone. Being new parents you haven’t had much of it. He spends all night dancing with you and just talking as you eat the dinner he cooked.

- He gives you a necklace he had made that had your daughters fingerprint on it. It also has a message and his and her name inscribed on the back. He puts it on you and you guys just sit in one another’s arms. Looking at the setting sun, wondering how you guys were lucky enough to have gotten everything you could have ever wanted.

[scribbling-dragon]

The Curse

Summary:

Those that had received the curse described it as a haze, but if he were to describe it, he would phrase it more as an overwhelming giddiness, something that crept into every corner of your mind until you felt completely invincible, whispers muttering in your ears about death and blood and betrayal.

Either that, or he would compare it to a headache. A really annoying one.

(AO3 Link)

(Masterpost)

(3,220 words)

“And then the-” Both of them look up as the door swings open, Jimmy shifting a little to push himself up off of his chest, looking towards the door. Pearl’s stood just beyond it, hand on the edge of the door and staring at them.

As they continue to stare at her, Cleo’s head also appears around the corner, watching them. “Are we interrupting something?” She asks, coming more into view, standing beside Pearl with a grin on her face.

“Yes.” He tucks the bookmark back into the book, closing it with a snap that makes Jimmy jump a little, eyes flicking back towards him. “Can’t you tell?”

“I dunno.” Pearl frowns, eyes glimmering with amusement. “I see you and Jimmy like that quite a lot.”

“All tangled together, being sweethearts.” Cleo adds. “Like a pair of lovesick teenagers.”

“We’re married.” He deadpans, giving Cleo his best unimpressed look.

“Not on paper.” She leans a little on the doorway, crossing her arms as she grins at them. “Only by word of mouth, and probably other things.” She smirks a little at that.

“Oh my god Cleo.” Jimmy decides to add, sitting up fully, almost hitting him in the chin with his head. He’s gone a rather bright shade of red. “No. I don't care what you're implying. No. Didn't happen.”

“If you say so.” Pearl strides into the room, shoving his legs aside so she can sit down. “I take it that neither of you have looked at your comms in a while, hm?” She wiggles her own for emphasis, and he watches as a new message flashes on the screen, making a small ping sound at the same time as his and Jimmy’s do.

“No. We were reading.”

“Together?” Cleo sits on his bed too, because apparently their room is now a communal area for anyone to come into.

“I was reading, Jimmy was listening.” He sets the book aside, and Jimmy leans back towards him a little, head resting on his shoulder.

“Well, boogey’s about to be selected, so I suggest you grab your comm.” Cleo leans back a little, kicking her mud-caked shoes onto his nice, clean bed. He makes a disgusted face at her, shoving her legs off, groaning a little when the action leaves a smear of mud across his nice, white bed.

Jimmy presses his comm into his hands, already having retrieved his own, clicking it on to read through any of his missed messages. He clicks it on to do the same, ignoring the small, red timer in the corner of his screen that’s counting the seconds down until the curse is passed onto another.

He hadn't really noticed how Etho fared last week with killing someone. He knows it happened, he had watched the notification flash up in chat, but he was a little preoccupied with making sure that Jimmy wasn't going to spontaneously bleed out at his dinner table. The flooring in that room was nice as well.

He looks back to his screen as a ten flashes up on it, bright red and bold. It defies all laws of the chat, instead appearing over the whole of his screen, crackling at the edges as it fizzles with some kind of red, fuzzy energy.

“Three.” He hears someone breath, watching as the number flickers from view, turning hazy as the two replaces it, then the one. He inhales along with the other members of the room, waiting for his screen to fade back to green again, watching as the red fizzles, almost seeming to overflow from the screen and onto his hands.

The screen turns a deep red, staining blood onto his hands as the words stare back at him. He lets out a sigh of relief with the others, clicking his screen off so all that stares back at him is his own reflection, glassy and slightly out of focus as he looks up to Pearl and Cleo.

“Not the boogey.” He breathes, lie feeling bitter on his tongue. The taste of the lie only sours as they repeat his statement, the lie burning at the back of his throat as he sits there. He watches as Pearl hops off of the bed, as bubbly as ever, standing again and turning on her heel, marching out of the room, shouting something about a task of some kind.

He nods absently, and Cleo stands as well, movements more subdued that Pearl’s. She leaves the room too, closing the door at Jimmy’s request. The lock latches with a small click, and it sounds like a finality in his ears.

“I saw your screen.” Jimmy whispers, and he feels as though the air in his lungs freezes, blocking his throat and preventing him from breathing properly. It seems to spread through his chest as he turns to look at Jimmy, crawling up his throat until he feels as though he can’t speak anymore.

“I- what, you- what?” He’s not sure what to say really, all words slipping from his tongue in a mess of nothing, words fleeing his mind as he desperately tries to group them together, maybe a promise, or a reassurance of some kind? Still, the words refuse to cooperate, and he’s left staring at Jimmy like an idiot.

Jimmy’s hand presses against his cheek, touch almost burning compared to the ice gripping his lungs. He guides his head a little, and when he follows his gaze, he finds the message informing him of his curse, only, there’s a small sticker just below the keyboard, and the keys are messily painted different colours, several charms that aren't his dangling off the end.

“How would you feel about a date?” Jimmy asks, and he’s grinning now, looking back up at him, away from the identical message currently beaming from Jimmy’s screen. And, as he looks into his husband’s eyes, he can almost see a red glimmer dancing in their depths, like a fire at night.

“I don't think I would mind one.” He presses a kiss to Jimmy’s lips, feeling as the other exhales against his face when he pulls away. “I've always wondered what you would look like with blood on your hands.” He traces the back of Jimmy’s palm, and he turns it over, holding his hand in his own, fingers interlaced.

“I think I’d like to find out too.” Jimmy pulls away from him, but he still holds his hand, fingers interlocked, intertwined, and he allows himself to be pulled along. He helps Jimmy strap his chest plate on, grinning a little as he returns the favour.

He only wishes, now, that he could fly. Soar high above the trees and remain above them all, watching as they scatter in fear below as his shadow is cast on the ground. Jimmy hands him his favourite axe, and his hand easily slips into the groove in the wood, fingers rubbing over the enchantments engraved there, almost as a good luck symbol.

He holds Jimmy’s hand again, grip burning in his own as they both push the door open, yelling a goodbye to Cleo as they slam it behind them. He’s sure she’s worked out what they're going to do, she’s smart, and she can likely see it too.

He can see it in Jimmy, the way his teeth are slightly too sharp, the predatory look in his eyes as he glances back at him, tugging him beyond the wall. He looks too gleeful for what they're about to do, but that glee is infectious, and he can't help but grin along with it, laughing a little as they splash through a small stream beside their house.

Those that had received the curse described it as a haze, but if he were to describe it, he would phrase it more as an overwhelming giddiness, something that crept into every corner of your mind until you felt completely invincible, whispers muttering in your ears about death and blood and betrayal. 

Either that, or he would compare it to a headache. A really annoying one.

“Who do you want to get?” Jimmy giggles, hand squeezing his own briefly, smile curling a little, sharp teeth flashing as they pass a sunny patch.

He hums a little, almost tripping over a root as he casts his eyes to the sky, thinking about his options. “Whoever I can.” He decides. “Maybe someone that’s wronged me before, but I'm not fussed.” He shrugs a little, grinning back at Jimmy. “Any specific person for you?”

“I want one of the Southlanders.” He grins, a manic glint in his eyes that would normally scare him, but it only adds fuel to the fire, bolstering the flame higher.

“Maybe we can both get one of them.” He grins, beginning to tug Jimmy south, allowing his internal compass to direct both of them. He doesn't release his hand, even as they duck through the bushes, branches scraping and scratching at them as they dodge and weave between the thorns threatening to snag in their clothes.

The walls of the Southlands rise above them, the twisting towers only just visible above them. Smoke drifts from the centre, billowing out from the smoke signals they had never had to use, not yet, at least.

They creep closer, and as they approach, Jimmy releases his hand, slipping into the river just in front of the walls, ducking beneath the surface and disappearing among the rippling water.

He’s always admired his ability to do it, and he watches now, only able to locate him from the occasional glimmer of his chestplate, or the slight ripple of seagrass and weeds along the river bed.

He remains stood on the banks of the river, reeds parting around him as he stares up at the walls, axe in hand. He waits for someone to walk along the wall, counting down the seconds as he does so. He looks like a threat right now, and he’s sure that anyone coming by will recognise that too.

But they have numbers, and with numbers comes a sense of safety, almost a kind of arrogance. They feel unbeatable, simply because they have more people standing beside them. He watches, and he waits, axe in hand.

A shadow falls over him, and he looks up, meeting Martyn’s eyes with a grin, grip tightening on his axe as he shifts it, watching as Martyn’s eyes widen, then narrow, turning away as he mutters something, hopefully to himself.

He watches, waiting patiently, as the doors to the Southlands begin to open, and Martyn steps out, armour glittering a little in the sunlight. It reflects off the dents in the material, worming its way into the scratches on his chest. It looks as though it would fall apart at a moment’s notice.

“Did you want something, Scott?” Martyn calls, stepping over the boundary, out into the open. He simply smiles at him again, watching as he falters, just barely and for less than a second, but it’s still there. He takes another step forward, knuckles white as he grips his sword, obviously unnerved.

He steps forward until he’s stood on the edge of the bank, directly across from him, watching him with a worried and wary look.

“I don't need anything.” He answers, and despite how quietly he speaks, he knows it still carries, as he watches Martyn pale a little.

“Then why are you here?” He challenges, voice rising a little in volume and pitch. “If you don't want anything, why stand outside our walls and wait for one of us to come out.”

“I felt like it.” He shrugs, listening as the voices whisper in his ear about blood, urging him to make the small leap across the river. He doesn't, watching as the weeds below Martyn’s feet ripple, a small glimmer passing by them, almost as though a fish is weaving between the seagrass.

He takes a small step back, and Martyn watches him. He watches as his throat bobs with a swallow, pulse thrumming in his neck, heart no doubt hammering as he watches him, eyes wide. He doesn't watch his feet though, he doesn't watch the river, doesn't watch as the reeds ripple again, the movement jerkier this time, harsher.

“I'm not here for me.” He takes another step back as the river erupts, water cascading from Jimmy as he twists midair, trident shimmering in his grip. He’s not sure where he got it from, but he’s not going to question it, watching, eyes round, as Jimmy grabs the front of his shirt, before falling back into the river, dragging Martyn with him.

He watches bubbles of air rise to the surface, the water swirling and splashing, lapping just below his feet, with the thrashing from just below the surface. He only looks up, away from the frothing river, at a shout, watching as Impulse runs out the front gates, sword drawn as he runs towards the river.

He leaps across it in a second, wings almost stretching out to aid him in his leap. He shoves his axe against Impulse’s sword, shoving him backwards, watching as the iron of the weapon bends beneath his own.

He steps away from the edge of the river, grinning down at Impulse, voices roaring in his head and energy thrumming through his veins. He deflects another strike, driving Impulse backwards. He feels lightning at his fingertips, energizing him as he strikes again, ripping the sword from his grasp and flinging it away.

The both watch as it sticks into the ground, blade bent beyond repair, several jagged fractures running up it. He shoves Impulse backwards, watching as he falls to the ground beneath his feet. He feels his comm buzz, and the thrashing behind them both dies out rather rapidly, the churning of the river falling still.

He shoves his axe to just beneath his chin, pressing it against the skin there, watching as Impulse’s breath hitches, eyes growing wide, darting between him and the blade in his hands. “Looks like your time’s up.” He breathes, shoving the axe forward without faltering for another second.

He yanks it back out of the slowly dissolving corpse, making a small disgusted face at it, looking at the blood dripping off his blade with a similar expression. It fills the air with a tang of copper, echoing around him as Jimmy pulls himself from the river, dripping water along the bank.

His eyes are wide, excitement still glimmering in their depths as he looks at him, breathing heavy and harsh, the gills along his neck flaring in and out with his breaths. The door slams open behind them both, and Grian and Mumbo emerge from it, one significantly more confident than the other.

It takes a few seconds for Martyn to join them, still dripping wet despite respawn. His yellow eyes shine, and his breathing is almost as ragged as Jimmy’s, but there’s a harsh, rattling undertone to it. He’s sure there’s still a little water in his lungs, but he doesn't falter, charging towards Jimmy with his sword out, lacking armour.

He meets with him instead, the voices gone from his head, but the adrenaline roars in his blood all the same. He shoves him backwards, sending him staggering back, chest rattling as he struggles to breathe.

He grins, this is almost too easy. He deflects his strikes easily, finding them weak and a little lacklustre, especially for the hatred Martyn stares at him with. His eyes widen suddenly, filling with glee as he stares at something just over his shoulder.

He doesn't take the bait, shoving forward again in the other’s small moment of distraction, sending him to the ground. He raises the axe, and he watches Martyn process the situation in less than a second, eyes widening as he covers his head with his arms, as though that would do anything to help him.

A scream pierces the air behind them, and he lowers his axe, spinning on his heel without burying it into Martyn. His comm buzzes a few seconds later, and he watches as Jimmy disappears in a puff of smoke, green eyes rapidly fading from his vision.

His trident lays discarded on the ground, half-stuck into the dirt. He grabs that first, swinging his axe around and hitting Grian in the chest with the end of it when he tries to approach him.

He leaps the river, digging the trident into the other side to pull himself up. He glances back, finding the Southlanders gathered there, each of them staring daggers into his back, Mumbo with a bow drawn, pointing it towards him, albeit it shakily.

“You've made an enemy today.” Grian steps forward, spitting the words at him.

“You made an enemy of me the day you exiled Jimmy. And you have made an enemy of me twice over today.” He spits back, stalking away, ignoring the arrow that thuds into the tree beside his head.

Only once he’s out of sight, successfully concealed between the dark leaves on the tree, does he dare to break into a run, trees flashing by as he sprints home, mind whirling in a dizzying spiral.

He breaks from the cover of the pine trees - when did they become pine trees? - shoving the gate open and stumbling into their fort. Cleo is standing in the doorway, watching him with a sad look, door ajar behind her.

“I'm assuming it didn't go well?” She asks, and he shakes his head, pushing past her, discarding the weapons in the hallway as he begins up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He shoves his door open, closing it quietly, calmer, once he sees Jimmy, curled up against the headboard, cheeks streaked with tears as his chest heaves.

“Hey, hey.” He approaches with his hands out flat, footsteps slow and even. “You're okay now, I swear, you're safe here.” Jimmy nods a little at that, wiping his eyes.

“I know that.” He mutters, eyes glancing down to the duvet. “It’s just...I've never felt like that before. There was an energy in my veins, a thrumming that made my heart beat faster, made my mind race with thoughts of, of ways to kill and maim.”

“And we got through it.” He sits down, reaching a hand out, offering it to him. He takes it, hand cold this time. “And we’ll get through it again if we need to.” He promises, holding Jimmy’s hand tightly.

“I'm yellow now though, I'm yellow again, and you gave up a life for nothing.” he leans forward a little, wrapping his arms around him, drawing Scott into a hug. He returns it, wrapping his arms around Jimmy as well, resting his chin on his head.

“I didn't give it away for nothing.” He scoffs. “I gave it away for you.”

“But what if I die again? What if I leave you again? I was on yellow last time, and you were on green. What happens if I die again? What will you do then?” Jimmy looks up at him, pulling out of his embrace a little, eyes brimming with tears.

“We can do this again.” He promises. “We can get a different ending this time.”

“I hope so.” Jimmy replies, burying his face into his shoulder. “I really, really hope so.”

[trashscenariihxh]

Uvogin x Reader Smut

WARNING: Very, very, extremely dubcon.  Almost noncon.  Please don’t read if that is upsetting to you.  This is kind of an add on to @ramwrites glorious Warlord!Uvo fic, which can be found here.  Go give it a read, it’s amazing!  Anyway, onwards:

The war-tent in which Uvogin had left you was large but sparsely furnished.  There was a table, a chair, and an enormous bed covered in a variety of fur pelts.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Uvogin said as he unceremoniously deposited you on the ground, “and don’t even think about leaving.”

“And what if I do?” You felt defiant then, spurred on by the rage of seeing your village ransacked.  Using all your strength, you stood, glaring up at the giant before you.

Uvogin smiled predatorily down at you and stroked your cheek with a long, bloodstained finger.  “___, I just destroyed an entire village.  Laid waste to the local militia.  Imagine what I could do to you.”

He turned and left, laughing as though the idea of crushing you was the funniest thing he could imagine.  As soon as he was gone your resolve disintegrated; your knees buckled and you fell to the floor, your body wracked with sobs as the reality of the situation slammed into you.  Your village was gone, your family was gone, your friends were gone. Now, there was only Uvogin.

You supposed that you should count yourself as lucky.  After all, you’d been spared… but what kind of life awaited you?  Did Uvogin expect you to be his kept woman?  His plaything? Bile rose in your throat at the thought; you rushed to the side of the tent and vomited into a chamber pot.  You coughed and sputtered, trying to regain some semblance of composure as thoughts rushed through your head.

Where was Uvogin?  Would you be able to sneak away?  Could you make a run for it?

No.  You remembered what he’d said, and you knew it to be true; he could crush you like an insect.

You covered your eyes with your hands, groaning as you wiped your tears away.  Who would have thought that the affable giant you’d met the night before would be the blood-stained, ruthless warlord who had carried you away?  Last night, when Uvogin had laughed at your jokes, drunk your alcohol, and fucked you against the back of the bar, you’d felt so light, so carefree.  Yesterday seemed like an eternity ago.

You looked down at yourself, at your filthy, blood-smeared clothes caked with mud and wondered why Uvogin had even bothered to take you with him.  You’d put up a fight of course, but terror and exhaustion had soon overcome you, and you’d allowed him to carry you away.  To here, wherever here was.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the tent flap opening.  A small woman flashed you a shy smile as she entered the tent, carrying a large bucket full of water.  You studied her briefly; she must be stronger than she looked; the bucket looked extremely heavy/

“You must be ____.” her cheerful voice contrasted sharply with your despair.  “I was told to bring you this.”  She set the bucket on the ground before you, smiling expectantly.  “To wash,” she explained.  When you still didn’t move, she sighed.

“Still in shock, eh?  Poor thing.”  Without asking your permission, she immediately began removing your clothes.  You resisted, but only for a few moments.  You were too exhausted to resist anything anymore.

The water was icy cold.  You winced when the woman dabbed your neck with the wet washcloth.  “I know,” she soothed, dunking the cloth into the water and ringing it out.  “You’ll get used to it.”

You didn’t get used to it, but you endured it.  After what felt like far too long, you were clean and in new clothes.  They were far too big and hung off your frame, but anything was better than what you’d been wearing before.  A large part of you wanted to balk at the idea of wearing anything that Uvogin- for it surely it had been him who had sent the clothes- had given you, but unless you wanted to keep wearing clothes stained with the blood of your family and friends, you had no choice. 

You were so deep in thought that you didn’t notice the friendly woman slipping away.  By the time you realized, she was gone, leaving you alone again without so much as a name.  You looked around the tent and saw that there was nothing you could amuse yourself with, nothing with which to pass the time until Uvogin inevitably returned.  Resigning yourself to your fate, you crawled into the giant bed and fell asleep.

You were awoken by heavy footsteps, and you opened your eyes to see Uvogin towering over you. He was filthy; his wild hair stuck out in all directions, and his face was smeared with ash and blood.  Fresh blood.  You shuddered at the sight.

Seeing the obvious fear on your face, Uvogin let out a bark of laughter.  “What is it, ____?  Aren’t you happy to see me?”

You trembled before him; your hair stood on end, shivers ran down your spine… had it been full, you would have emptied your bladder.  The man in front of you was just so big, so imposing, so… 

Terrifying.

“Please don’t hurt me.”  Your voice was small, weak, barely above a whisper.

More boisterous laughter.  “I’m not going to hurt you, ___.”  He bared his teeth in a feral grin.  “If I wanted to hurt you, you’d be dead already.”  With another bark of laughter, he headed over to the bucket of water in the corner of the tent and splashed some onto his face and arms.  It did little in the way of removing the more caked-on grime, but most of the blood washed away.

Uvogin returned to the bed, leering down at you.  When you curled into a ball and scrambled to get away from him, he merely grabbed your leg and tugged you towards him.

You froze, powerless to break his monstrous grip.  Pain shot through your leg; he was holding you too tightly.  For a moment you thought he was going to crush your tibia, but Uvogin let go. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” His lip curled in a snarl.  “Be careful.  You’re starting to try my patience.”

“What.. what are you going to do to me?”  The feral look in his eyes made you wish you hadn’t asked; you knew what he wanted.

A large hand ran down your thigh.  “What a little thing you are,” he murmured, his hoarse voice growing softer.  “So small, so soft… so easy to break.”  The bed dipped as he joined you on it. 

You shivered at his touch.  His enormous hands were warm and rough, and yet, there was something oddly soothing about the way he was stroking you.  You again remembered the night at the tavern when he’d taken you so completely; it had felt so good, so wonderful then.  And now…

“Uvogin,” you mumbled softly, “please don’t…” Please don’t what?  You were in no position to be making demands.  “Please don’t break me.”

“Break you?”  Uvogin sat back on his heels and grinned down at you.  “I have no intention of breaking you, ____.  Although, you are mine to break.” Before you could say anything more, he bore down on you, covering your mouth with his own in an all-consuming kiss.

You squeaked in surprise, as if you didn’t know exactly how the night was going to end.  The kiss seemed to ignite something within Uvogin; he drew back, and within seconds he tore your clothes from your body.  “I’ll have more brought to you,” he promised as he kissed you again, softer this time.

Despite everything, you found yourself relaxing into the kiss.  Something about having him on top of you was strangely comforting.  As comforting as a giant, murderous man could be, that is.  Memories of the previous night, of just how good Uvogin had felt inside you, came flooding back, manifesting as a little twinge between your legs.

With a soft growl, Uvogin turned his attention to your neck, nibbling and sucking on the delicate skin.  For a man of his stature, he was being surprisingly gentle, a fact you appreciated.

“____,” he moaned, stroking your thigh again, “____…” Drawing back, he lied down on the bed, seizing your hips and pulling you on top of him in a quick motion.  He smiled wolfishly up at you.  “Look at what you do to me.”  He thrust his pelvis upwards as his thumbs rubbed warm circles onto your thighs.

You glanced down and immediately noticed his massive erection straining against his pants.  You gulped.  How had you taken that last night?  With shaking hands, you carefully undid his pants, allowing his erection to spring free.  You could feel his gaze, and slowly raised your eyes to meet his.  You wondered if he could see the terror in yours.

“What, don’t you want it?” He thrust his hips again.  “I thought you would, after last night.”

Had you been less wise and more brash, you would have retorted that murdering an entire village is something of a turn-off, but you kept your mouth shut.  It was for the best.

Uvogin looked at you expectantly, clearly wanting you to do something about his achingly-hard cock.  Slowly, tentatively, you wrapped your hand around its base, and lowered yourself down so you could lick along the shaft.  Uvogin’s breath hitched when you swirled your tongue over the head.  “That’s good, love, so good.”

You froze.  Love? How dare he use that word, after what he’d done?  You continued as if he hadn’t said anything, and took his cock into your mouth.  Uvogin groaned as you sucked and began to pump his shaft, his hips bucking slightly.  It was clear that he was doing his best to hold back.

“That’s enough, love,” he rasped, tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling you off of him.

Love.  There was that word again.  You looked into his eyes and saw nothing like love in them.

Thick fingers pressed against your lips; you obediently opened your mouth.  You gagged at the intrusion, and Uvogin merely laughed at your discomfort.  “You’d better get them nice and wet,” he threatened, “or else you’ll regret it.”  Satisfied with how much you’d licked his fingers, he pulled them from your mouth with a slick pop and reached between your legs.

You winced at the prospect of him slipping into your core, but you parted your legs and repositioned yourself to allow him access all the same.  Better to go along with it, you told yourself.  Better to pretend to like it, to want it.  You felt no tenderness towards this man, but you would force yourself if you had to.  You wanted to live. 

Uvogin’s fingers entered you, and you cried out in pain.

“Too much?” he asked, withdrawing a bit.  When you nodded, he sighed and pulled his fingers out, only to slip one inside you again.

You bit your lip; it wasn’t painful anymore, but it was certainly uncomfortable.  Again, you asked yourself how you’d taken him the night before.  After pumping into you a few more times, Uvogin added another finger.  You groaned at the stretch.

“Do you think you’re ready for me?” Uvogin asked.  He’d begun stroking his cock in time with each pump of his fingers.

You nodded shakily.  Better to get it over with.

With a groan, Uvogin drew his fingers out of you and, grabbing your hips, positioned you above his cock.  Slowly, with far more caution than you’d come to expect, he lowered you down onto him.  You hissed as you stretched to accommodate him.

“That’s it,” Uvogin gritted out as he eased you onto his cock, “just like that.”

You whimpered when you took him in as far as you possibly could, and bit your lower lip hard enough to bleed.  Uvogin felt impossibly big inside you; he was in so very, very deep.

With a grunt, Uvogin lifted you up, only to slam you down onto him again.  You cried out at the suddenness of it.  When he did it again, you cursed.  “Shit, Uvogin!”

He grinned up at you.  “Say my name again, ____.”  As he spoke, he began to bounce you up and down on his cock at a much faster pace than before.

You obliged, and cried out his name once more.  Despite it all, despite your fear and hatred of the man below you, wicked little flashes of pleasure were beginning to flit through your core.  You closed your eyes and cast your mind back to the night before, when Uvogin had been so funny, so charming, so caring.  You remembered the ways he had touched you, and the way he’d taken such care not to hurt you when he’d fucked you.  So engrossed were you in the fog of your memories that you didn’t catch a moan of your name.  At least, not at first.

Uvogin was groaning out your name repeatedly as he fucked into you, his hips snapping up to meet you as he slammed you down onto his cock.  You opened your eyes and looked at him, really looked at him, then; his eyes were closed, his jaw clenched, his hair fanned out on the pillows.  You felt a little tug in your chest; under different circumstances, perhaps, you could have felt some affection towards him.

Another groan from the man below you signaled that he was close; he slammed you down onto  him a few more times before finding his release.  With a deep grunt he came, filling you up with his cum.

His hands fell to his sides as he panted, leaving you to gingerly lift yourself off of his now-softening cock.  You made to get off of the bed, but a large arm wrapped around you and pulled you down to Uvogin’s chest.  You lied there for a moment, feeling suddenly sleepy, finding confusing enjoyment in the warmth of Uvogin’s skin and the rise and fall of his chest.  You were about to fall asleep when Uvogin spoke.

“____, you didn’t cum for me that time, did you?”

“Hm?”

“Be honest.  You didn’t.”

Too afraid to lie, you answered that you hadn’t.  “But it’s okay!” you quickly added.  “I don’t mind, really.”

“We’ll have to fix that next time.”

Next time?

“Oh no, that’s fine, you don’t have to--”

“You’re mine and I can do as I please with you,” Uvogin growled, holding you closer.  “Never forget that you’re mine now, ____.”  He turned to you to press a lazy kiss to your mouth.  “Forever.”

[peachyproserpina]

Oops Pt. 2

Jason Roberts (SVU) x Fem!Reader

Part one here!

Here it is! It's kinda jumpy but I hope yall enjoy it! Tagging my love @glassbxttless for all your help with this and the fact it's dedicated to you!

TW: Smut, Alcohol, Drugs, Food, lots of Crying, mentions of abuse, mentions of Death, pregnancy, babies, swearing

As always! If I have missed a tag let me know and I will tag it!

You hiss when the cold jelly gets smeared on your stomach, you’re fucking pregnant, test after test after fucking test and you’re pregnant. You booked an appointment with Planned Parenthood as soon as they would let you and made Jason come with. They confirmed with a blood test that yes indeed you we’re pregnant and about 5ish weeks along at that point. You both looked at each other and the nurse could see the panic between you too. She sent you home with a stack of pamphlets as thick as your arm and assured you that you have options, even if you needed to make them quick.

That was 3 weeks ago when your bras still fit you, this isn’t your first ultrasound but the jelly never gets any better no matter how much you prepare. Jason is here, he’s insisted on coming to every appointment. He was clingy before but ever since you found out he’s been even worse. Watching the cameras and your location more so then before and having you facetime him whenever you’re out of the apartment. Clingy.

-

You’re at 12 weeks now and your monkey is about as big as a lime and really fucking with everything they can. You’re showing now, now matter how many layers or flowy dresses you put on, and between the cravings and the aversions (Chocolate is a go but for some reason tacos make you gag) you’ve put on a few pounds. Jason loves it, after the shock wore off and you both decided to keep it, always wanting kids but never knowing when. It just. Felt right. He picked up on your moods and cravings just as well as he did before and the fact your chest is so big now you cant even wear a bra is a plus. You’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve been woken up with Jason between your thighs as soon as he’s home from work, or when he gently fucks you awake, big hand covering your whole bump and cooing praise in your ear before filling you with cum and letting you get the sleep you need. You’re both adjusting and determined to ‘keep you safe babygirl’ Jason got a promotion with a healthy wage and he’s kept you cooped up at home where he can watch you and his monkey.

-

“I’m so sorry you have to grow up without a Daddy monkey.” You’re gently rubbing your bump as you walk down the street, en route to your old apartment. The one right across the hall from Jason used to live, where his mom still lives.

“He’s just so dumb for telling grandma I’m going to kill him before you’re born I’m sure of it.” You don’t notice the looks from the people milling on the stairway of the building, too bust fuming at the fact Jason managed to do the one thing you asked him not to do.

Tell anyone.

You wanted to keep it until you knew the gender, maybe post something on your socials, call your family about it. Invite Estelle over for a dinner and let her know then. But nope, Jason as much as a mommas boy he is, spilled the beans a day after you asked him not to. Causing you to make your way to the old building for a ‘baby-baby shower’ with his mom, with a strict “No boys allowed!’ leaving Jason a mess as you walked around New York, knowing he was never far, always watching you helped calm him down. You don’t even have to kock before Estelle is rushing you in the door, and you can’t tell if it’s the spread she has thoughtfully laid out or the hormones but you’re already crying.

There’s cute little cakes, caffeine free tea, candies, chocolate, pickles, and everything else you have possibly been craving spread all over her kitchen table, you hug her close and try to stop your tears.

“Let's get you sat down before you hurt yourself honey.” She sits you in one of her kitchen chairs and brings you a tissue, you thank her as she hands you a cup of tea and you both settle in for the afternoon celebration. She’s dipped into the brandy and brought out all of Jason’s old baby stuff she’ll be sending you home with, you’re flipping through and laughing when you stop on a picture of newborn Jason being held in a man's arms. You furrow your brow and she picks up on that. “He was an awful man you know. Beat me black and blue and Jason too.” Her words take you by surprise, Jason never talked about his dad, just that he was a deadbeat and glad he was dead.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Jason never.” She cuts you off with a soft hand on your thigh before she gently rubs the top of your belly.

“He died young you know, I-” she takes a swig of brandy before she continues. “He beat Jason so bad he broke his arm. Can you believe that? Jason wasn’t much older then 7, still a baby and that bastard broke his arm.” You’re speechless as you flick your eyes between Estelle and the photo of Jason’s father. “He was sleeping around too. Thought I didn’t know, it was the 90’s of course I fucking knew when his pager was going off at all hours. He didn’t even have a pager for work.” You sniffle and nod your head, you really had no idea, Jason never talked about his father and you let it be.

“He shoulda known better, sleeping pills and coke are a dangerous mix you know. Add in some tramp and all the clubs he was going to it was bound to happen sooner or later.” She smiles at you then and you’ve seen that same smile on Jason, recognize that smile. That’s the one he gave you after he came over and installed the first camera. Your blood runs cold for a second before you’re pulled out of your head by Estelle flipping the page and cooing at how cute Jason was taking apart his first Nintendo console.

-

20 weeks, 5 months and you’re suffering. Your hips are aching and popping, there’s this nerve in your back that keeps pinching and sometimes it’s so bad you can’t even move. You can’t even sleep a full night before the little one is moving around or you’re dying from how hot it is. You whine as Jason gets up, jostling you awake.

“Jas no, come back to bed I finally got some sleep.” You’re making grabby hands at him and he walks around to your side of the bed and pressing kisses against your hair.

“I cant baby, we’re gonna have people over for your shower and I should clean up a little.” Jason is rubbing his hand up and down your belly as he talks, settling the little one and you can feel angry tears well up in your eyes.

“Do we have to? I don’t want to Jason, please?” You can feel the tears leak out now and you’re mad, mad at him, mad at your monkey for keeping you up, mad at yourself for getting pregnant. He kisses your tears before giving you a filthy kiss and teasing his fingers over your clit that makes you gasp and forget all about how mad you just were.

“You have friends come over and we get to know whether it’s a boy or a girl. Then we get to think about names. So no. I’ll get the bath ready for ya momma.” Jason's walking away before you can pull him back and demand he makes you cum. You shut your eyes and try to get ready for this day.

The party is easy breezy, gifts were exchanged, weird games were played, and your friends organized a cute revel, filling a box with so many pink balloons and streamers, and ribbon you’re sure you’re going to find them even after your baby is born. Jason’s getting nervous again, you’ve kicked everyone out saying you’re tired and they left without complaint.

“Whats wrong Jas? I can feel you worrying from over here.” You scoot over on the couch and make room for him, he moves from where he was cleaning stuff up and drops into the seat. He’s running his hands through his hair before you pull one to your lips and kiss it. He’s lets out the breath he was holding, letting the tension drop from his shoulders as he rests his head back on the couch. Spreading his long long legs out wide, you feel the pang of arousal as you eye up his thighs, his crotch the way his adam’s apple bobs when he smiles before he letting everything out.

“What if I’m not right for you? What if I’m just like my dad? I don’t think I’m good enough to raise your ba-” you cut off his tirade by straddling his thigh and rubbing your cunt against it. You whipped off your bottoms as soon as everyone left, just in your panties and a tank as you lounged and watched Jason. His head snaps up and he whimpers when he can feel you soak through his denim already. You pull his hands up to cup your chest, sighing as you catch your clit as just the right angle and he lifts up your heavy tits, giving your back a little bit of a break.

“You’re gonna be fucking perfect Jason.” You’re getting desperate and the way Jason is looking at you like you single-handedly hung the stars in the sky is feeding your ego and your arousal. His chest is rising and falling just as fast as yours is and his cock has filled out so fast he’s light headed. You keep going, so desperate after that little tease this morning you’re already close to coming and its not fair. Jason tenses his thigh under you and you gasp. “Do that fucking again Jas. Right now.” He whines and does as he is told, as the little change helps push you over the edge and you’re cumming, soaking his jeans and hungrier than before for his cock. You weave your fingers through his hair and yank, hard.

“Take your cock out right fucking now.” He’s nodding eyes glazed over as he rushes to do what you’ve asked. You don’t let up on the death grip on his hair, covering his neck with dark hickies and bites that he’ll have to cover up when he leaves for work. You feel the trail of precum as he frees his cock from his pants and it slides up your thigh, you pull back and when you see it, so angry red and big for you you grind down onto his thigh again and moan. You’re maneuvering yourself so you can sit on Jason's cock and ever the worrier he is, he's helping. Spreading his legs wider, his hands holding your hips so you and your belly can fit against him tight on the couch that is probably too small to be doing this on.

You let go of his hair, pull his lips to yours as you finally sit down on his cock, the moan you rip from your chest is almost as pretty as Jason’s sigh.

“You’re so fucking tight for me baby girl. So fucking hot.” Jason's mouth is running and you huff, not happy he’s coherent enough to do so. You kiss him again, nipping on his bottom lip hard as you start to move. His hands are everywhere, your tits, your thighs, your back pulling you close so he can shove his tongue down your throat. You haven’t been at this long but you can feel the orgasm building right at the base of your spine, where lately it’s only hurt. It’s not long before Jason has a thumb on your clit and a nipple in his mouth. You hold him close to your chest as you bounce bounce bounce on his big dick.

“Fuck I'm gonna cum Jason. Please keep doing that.” You tilt your head back and grind yourself onto him, you’re so fucking close and you can feel from the way Jason’s pulsing inside of you he’s not too far off either. He pinches the nipple he doesn’t have in his mouth hard and that's enough to tip you over the edge, soaking his lap yet again as you cum. Thighs shaking tense as you clamp down on Jason’s length and he is right behind you. Filling you up to overflowing with his cum, messy as you both come down.

-

“JASON!” You’re frantic as you call for him,m knowing damn well he is not there. You can feel your water pool where you're standing in the kitchen. Of course the ONE DAY Jason has to go into work your water breaks. You reach for your phone that's ringing as you shift worriedly in your spot in the kitchen.

“What's wrong babygirl?” Jason’s on the other line, frantic, you can hear shouting in the back. It might be his boss but you’re starting to freak out and the first contraction hits and you wail. “Baby, talk to me, I can see you but the cameras don’t have microphones yet.”

“I- my water just broke Jas, I just had a contraction I need you here.” You’re crying, panicking and you can hear Jason huff and puffin your ear. He’s surprisingly calm on the other end as you sniffle into the phone, trying to remember those stupid breathing exercises you learned about in that Virtual birthing class you both took.

“I’m almost home love, can you get to the bag near the door?” You move, stiff and awkward but you’re moving. “Good job baby girl. Get to the bag by the door and I’m almost home. We'll get you to the hospital soon, promise.” You’re taking those deep breaths as you waddle to the door.

“Jas, how are you almost home? It takes 20 fucking-” you gasp as you feel another twinge and take big gulps of air. “You’re 20 minutes away if you take the train.” You’re puzzled as you hear him breathing heavy through the line.

“I just ran. It’s faster.” You nearly drop the phone at that.

“You did not! Jason! You are going to die!” You’re laughing and you can hear his footsteps pounding, you’re at the go bag by the door and you try to bend over to pick it up and nearly fall over. You’re still not fucking used to being this big. The door slams open as you’re resting against the wall bag as your feet and ruined clothes. Jason's there, your man, your creepy fucking neighbor who spied on you and now got your pregnant. He’s sweaty, he really did run all the way from work for you and the thought makes you want to laugh and cry at how much you fucking love him. But then another contraction hits and you're crying out in pain again. He’s picking up the bag at your feet before he’s helping you step into some slides and gently ushering you down the stairs to Estelle's car that is waiting to take you to the hospital.

One Epidural and 14 hours of labor later you have your baby girl, Delilah Stella Roberts, sleeping against your chest and Jason is trying not to cry as she has him already wrapped around her finger.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Christmas Specials: Fishcake

CW: Some hint of dehumanization and references to Bahram’s depression/past breakdown at the end, some brief emeto references, but really this is just fluff. Oh, also brief unintentional ableism that Miah calls out.

Introduction | Siren Song | Cries | Here | Not Sure | Draw Blood | Fish | Signs | Stop | Something New | Help | Please Don’t Let Me Drown  | Fish Food | Squeaky Toy | Fading | Fishcake

---

BAHRAM’S NOTES

December 24th, 20XX 11:15 pm Mer in Residence: 71 Days

Miah showed up tonight with a Christmas present for me, and now I feel like a giant dick for not having anything to give her. 

Christmas just isn’t a thing in my family. I mean, I have cousins who go overboard with it, kind of a fitting in thing, but my family never did. Baba does some kind of fast, but for Maman it’s just another day and for me it’s always meant mostly a day where I played video games all day because I didn’t have to be at school or work. 

Oh, I need to call Baba and Maman tomorrow, note to self. She always gets worried about me right around the end of the year, what with how they figured out I was quitting school and everything.

I guess getting a phone call from a hospital leaves a bloody impression.

Anyway, Miah comes in with this big shopping bag in her hand, waving at me all bright and sunny and cheerful. She set the bag down long enough to berate me for - she assumed - having not taken my medicine on time. 

For the record, she was right, but I didn’t tell her that.

Nearly drowning in saltwater made my lungs apparently terribly angry with me, so for the next eight days I’m on a run of antibiotics to handle a lovely case of bacterial pneumonia. Would’ve been far handier to get pneumonia right away, but instead I ended up in Urgent Care yesterday, paying 200 dollars and waiting two hours to see a doctor for less than ten minutes. 

Dr. L says she’ll reimburse me the cost, but still. 

Miah asked me how I was feeling, I said I felt fine, really, and then of course I had an awful coughing fit just to prove myself a wonderful liar. The coughing’s the worst part - every time I really get going, it’s like being underwater all over again. I can feel my lungs fighting to inflate, to take the air in, and I can hear how hard I’m working to get enough air to stop coughing at all. Miah can’t hear it, but she can see it all right, and she looked worried.

I signed, “I’m fine, it’ll stop, the doctor says it will,” and she frowned at me, but let it go, I guess. While she had her face turned away to greet the mer, I opened the pill bottle and dry-swallowed the meds really fast. Sometimes there are benefits to Miah not being able to hear things.

The mer - Kima, I can call him by his name in these notes, the ones only I see - was already at the side of the tank, watching us. He’s perked up a bit lately, since I started giving him live fish on the days Dr. L isn’t around and Miah brought him all these enrichment things. We’re doing what we can, but I know it’s still not enough.

Enough would be figuring out where his bloody family is and getting him back to them, but I just… I can’t even begin to explain, even to myself, the logistical nightmare of hauling a six-foot-long mer back to the ocean and finding someone who would take him back up north where his family likely is in the middle of bloody fucking December.

It’s the right thing to do, yeah.

But it’d just be too hard to pull off, not without losing… my whole taped-together life, yeah? Plus I’m still dealing with trying to figure out who exactly is my real employer at this point - who’s paying Dr. L - and what they want from the mer’s… thing he can do.

Miah glanced over at him and signed, “Don’t worry, I have something for you, too,” and Kima just looked back at her, head cocked to the side. She looked over at me and signed, “It’s a fish-cake.”

I have to admit, it took me a second to even begin to respond. My hands just… hung in mid-air, before finally I asked, “A what?”

“A fishcake. It’s like a fruitcake, but so much worse.” She leaned down to dig around in the big bag and pulled out a box, pausing to add, “I had to wrap it and box it or the car would have smelled horrible for days,” before she picked up and laid the box on my desk, opened it, took out something wrapped in layers of plastic, and unwrapped that, painstakingly slowly.

I glanced over at the mer, who watched with total fascination. Maybe he’d caught the sign for fish, he’s incredibly food-motivated. Which makes sense, of course, probably with his pod he’d spend a lot of his day eating and hunting for more, but

Bahram. Focus.

She was right - as soon as the plastic came off, I could smell it. 

“How can you handle that? Isn’t your sense of smell… really good?” Ah, yes, I am always so proud of myself when I forget a sign for a word I want to say and have to sort of cobble together the spirit of it with other signs.

She looked at me with this sort of dry are you kidding me expression, then signed, “I’m deaf, B, not a superhero,” in a way that made me feel about ten inches tall.

“Sorry. That’s an awful smell, though.”

And it was. I like fish as much as the next man, but this was foul. She grinned at me and picked up the tupperware the fishcake was in using towels to protect her hands from picking the smell up too, I guess, and went over to the ladder up to the platform. Her back was already to me, so I couldn’t ask her the question I had, or tell her not to do that one-handed. Instead, I just sort of… got up and hovered uselessly while she climbed up without looking back, and then followed her up there.

The platform makes me… nervous, now. I stay closer to the ladder, farther from the water. I hope the mer, that Kima doesn’t think I don’t want to be close to him or something.

Miah took the lid off the tupperware and waited. Soon enough the mer popped up near us, interested in what we were doing on the platform. 

I watched those nasal slits open wide when he smelled the fish. And I watched how his eyes went big and shiny with excitement. Whatever Miah had put in the foul thing, he wanted it.

She dumped it into the water - I didn’t see much, other than a sort of loaf-shape and a sense of texture I never want to think about again - and Kima tore into it. It was the grossest thing I’ve ever seen, and I have actually watched Kima eat raw fish that was living seconds before. I had to look away - and so did Miah, but she was laughing. She can’t hear herself, only feel the vibration in her own throat. Her laughs kind of sound almost honking, choked-off, just totally un-self-conscious noises she’s barely aware of.

I should tell her that I like the way she laughs.

Oh, I absolutely should not do that.

Maybe I should, though.

She grinned at me, still laughing, and signed, “This is disgusting!”

“It is,” I signed back, “And it’s your fault, don’t forget that!”

She was still laughing when Kima looked back up at us, fish bits smeared around his mouth, and she signed, “Merry Christmas, K-I-M-A,” to him. He stared back, signed yes, and then dove back under the water, present utterly devoured, leaving only gross little particles I will probably have to hose off the sides of the tank on cleaning day when the filters can’t quite pick them up.

Miah looked at me, and I just thought, you know, she’s really pretty even under the sun lamps, and nobody is pretty in that light. Then she signed, after this moment of stillness, “I bought you a present, too.”

“Me?” I pointed back at myself, blinking, surprised. “I don’t do Christmas, M, I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “I know. But I still bought a present. Can I show you?”

“Um, sure.” I get nauseous when I’m nervous. For a second, climbing back down the ladder, I thought I’d just get sick all over myself. I was badly designed, my defense mechanism is just to vomit on myself to scare predators away, clearly my body thinks pretty women are dangerous and I have to embarrass myself until they stop looking at me.

Finally, though, we were back at my desk. The smell… lingered. I’ve since burned the candle Miah got me, and the sulfur from the matches and the scent of the candle itself have largely done away with it, but when we got back, it was still powerful. 

She didn’t pull anything out of the bag, instead she just took a small card out of her back pocket and handed it to me. 

I looked down at it. “Alborz?” I realized I’d spoken out loud, looking down, and looked back up quickly so I could repeat it in sign, so she could see. “A-L-B-O-R-Z? A gift card to a restaurant?”

She nodded, quickly, signing so fast I was having trouble keeping up. I guess… was she nervous, too? “It’s food like you grew up with, yes?”

“Yeah, more or less. I mean nothing is better than my mother’s food. But why-”

She reached out and grabbed my arm with one hand to stop me, leaned in so close that the smell of this super subtle perfume she wears was stronger, for a second, than the smell of fish. “B,” She signed, with heavy, slow emphasis, “Think about why I bought you this.”

I just looked at her. I didn’t get it at all, and told her so.

I’m so bloody dense.

She sighed, throwing her hands up in the air with an eye-roll and a smile, and then signed, “When are you taking me there?”

She had to repeat the signs three times before I realized she was asking me on a date.

So anyway, I don’t think I’ll sleep a wink tonight, and also I think I celebrate Christmas now.

Date-mas.

That was an awful joke. I’m leaving it there just to properly shame myself if I ever reread this.

---

@astrobly  @burtlederp   @finder-of-rings   @slaintetowhump   @moose-teeth   @misspelledwitch   @whumpfigure   @whumptywhumpdump   @boxboysandotherwhump   @whumpywhumpwhump   @yet-another-heathen   @fanmanga1357-blog @justabitofwhump  

[alyssaallyrion]

Rough winds do shake (aka Itachi and Shisui become temporary jonin-sensei to team Guy and team 10, respectively, AU)

Chapter 1 (under cut because of some smut)

ao3 link

Warm breath ghosts Itachi’s cheek.

“Oh, my,” Shisui murmurs into his ear, “What a wonderful surprise to find you in my bed.”

Itachi smiles through his sleep, not opening his eyes, “You sound as though I’m not here almost every night.”

“You are,” Shisui readily concedes, pressing light kisses to Itachi’s jaw, “But that doesn’t make seeing you here any less delightful.” Shisui dips lower, tracing the lines of Itachi’s neck with his lips – his caress sends shivers down Itachi’s spine, making him lean into the touch.

It was true – in the last few years, Itachi had spent far more nights at Shisui’s apartment than he did at his own house. He always found it comforting to be surrounded by Shisui’s warmth and – when Shisui was away on missions – by his scent on the bedsheets. Itachi always sought out that comfort, especially after rough missions – like the one he had the night before.

It was a miracle they only lost one person, but, even so, the loss weighed heavy on Itachi’s heart – there were few things he would not give to never see his comrades die again. Upon returning to the village, he came straight to Shisui’s apartment to seek solace in his arms. He didn’t find Shisui at home and, instead, simply crawled into his bed, pulling pillows and blankets close about him and breathing deeply, taking in his lover’s scent. It wasn’t long until he felt the calm wash over him and let himself drift off.

Itachi hasn’t expected Shisui to come back from his mission so soon, but he wasn’t complaining.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Itachi gasps as Shisui’s teeth lightly graze the curve where his neck meets his shoulder.

“No?” Shisui breathes out, and, even with his eyes closed, Itachi knows he’s smiling, “Well, isn’t that unfortunate. Whatever am I going to do?”

Before Itachi can respond, Shisui’s lips return to his neck as his hand slowly slides down Itachi’s body. The brush of Shisui’s palm against Itachi’s length is light and teasing, and yet, it steals a soft moan from Itachi’s lips. He’s always so desperate, so needy for Shisui’s caresses, and he feels no shame about it – all he wants is to get lost in the sensation.

Shisui moves lower, tracing kisses across Itachi’s chest and down his stomach, making hot pleasure coil tightly in Itachi’s belly. Shisui pauses briefly, pressing a soft kiss to Itachi’s hip bone before making quick work of the lacing of his pants. He can barely contain a gasp as he feels Shisui’s hot tongue against his tip, as one of his hands wraps firmly around Itachi’s length. He’s yearning for the warm heat of Shisui’s mouth, but instead of doing what Itachi wants, Shisui flicks his tongue against Itachi’s tip in a quick, teasing motion – and then does it again. It takes all of Itachi’s willpower to not buck against Shisui’s mouth in a desperate search of friction. As he feels another flick of the tongue, Itachi lets out a frustrated sigh and, finally, opens his eyes.

“Must you always tease me?” he asks, looking at Shisui.

It’s clear that he has gotten into bed after the mission bypassing the shower entirely – there is a smear of dirt along his jaw and dried blood caked by his temple.

“Must you always be so impatient?” Shisui’s eyes glint with amusement, and a smirk blooms on his lips, “It’s like you want to make it more fun to tease you.”

Itachi sighs and rolls his eyes. Next moment he forgets all about his annoyance because Shisui finally – mercifully – takes him into his mouth. The feeling of warmth is entirely overwhelming, making Itachi realize that he will not last very long. Shisui’s hardly helping the situation, tasting and touching and teasing just the way he knows Itachi likes. Without thinking, Itachi reaches forward and buries his fingers in Shisui’s hair, trying to slow him down, to prologue this dizzyingly pleasant sensation.

Shisui’s mouth is hot, his tongue eager and, soon enough, Itachi finds himself writhing under his touch. Moans fall from Itachi’s lips as Shisui picks up the pace. Itachi’s hand fists in the sheets, and another tightens in Shisui’s hair as he feels Shisui’s tongue flicker against his tip. He moves against Shisui’s mouth with reckless abandon, all in desperate search of pleasure. The pressure pooling in his lower stomach becomes completely unbearable, intoxicating heat spilling through his veins.

His release follows a moment later – sudden and overwhelming and leaving him absolutely breathless as he gasps out Shisui’s name. Then, with a satisfied hum, Shisui shifts back up on the bed and pulls Itachi close to him. Itachi’s cheeks are flustered, and his heart still flutters in his chest, and when Shisui looks into his face, he chuckles lightly.

“What is it?” Itachi asks.

“Just admiring my love,” Shisui shrugs, then leans closer, pressing a soft kiss to Itachi’s lips. “You are quite the vision when you look so utterly debauched with your tousled hair and flustered cheeks. Makes me want to do this again and again and again,” he continues, punctuating every “again” with a gentle kiss.

Itachi’s face feels as if on fire. Though they have shared a bed for years now, one thing he still isn’t used to is how utterly brazen Shisui could be when it came to this. To shut him up, Itachi snakes his fingers through Shisui’s hair and pulls him in for a long, slow kiss.

The kiss that starts languid and gentle soon turns deep and desperate and ardent. Itachi feels Shisui’s arousal against his thigh and finds his own body responding eagerly.

“I want you,” he murmurs, momentarily breaking the kiss.

Shisui doesn’t need to be asked twice.

They lie together afterward, basking in the warmth of the afterglow, Itachi resting his head on Shisui’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Comfort is rare and precious in the dangerous lives of shinobi, and Itachi desperately doesn’t want this moment to end.

“I wish we could spend all day like this,” he murmurs softly, not looking at Shisui.

“I do too,” Shisui replies, taking Itachi’s hand into his and bringing it to his lips. Itachi watches idly as Shisui presses gentle kisses to his knuckles. “Unfortunately, I don’t think we can, at least not today.”

“Why is that?” Itachi asks, confused.

He knows he has no missions later in the day and is rather certain that neither does Shisui. Unless something changed, of course.

“When I was returning from the mission this morning, I happened upon Kakashi,” Shisui explains with a sigh, “And he has told me that you and I both need to report to the Mission Room today at noon.”

“And you are only telling me this now?” Itachi frowns.

“It’s all your fault,” Shisui grins widely, “You looked so utterly distracting lying in my bed that I could hardly think of anything else.”

Itachi rolls his eyes, “Did he give any details about the mission?”

“No,” Shisui shakes his head, “Although, I wouldn’t worry – after all, it’s almost ten in the morning, so we’ll find out soon enough.”

Worry uncoils in Itachi’s chest – it wasn’t frequent that they were sent on the missions together, and, when they were, that usually meant that the situation was extremely dire.  What’s going on this time?

It must be something serious, Itachi reasons. After all, both of them have returned from S-rank missions just a few hours prior and wouldn’t be sent out again so soon if it wasn’t necessary. Itachi’s certain that Shisui recognizes that, and yet, his lover’s face looks utterly devoid of any concern. As if they were, in fact, going to spend the entire day lounging in bed.

“But,” there is a mischievous glint in Shisui’s eyes, “Even though we can’t spend all day lying around, that doesn’t mean we cannot take advantage of the few hours we do have.”

“We need to get ready…” Itachi protest lightly.

Shisui pauses, musing his words.

“You are right,” he says, then gets up from the bed and reaches over, grabbing Itachi’s hand.

“What are you doing?” Itachi asks, allowing Shisui to heave him up to his feet.

“It’s as you said, we do need to get ready,” Shisui replies, his smile making Itachi’s heart flutter, “So how about we start by taking a shower? Together.”

A soft smile curls Itachi’s lips – he can never deny Shisui, especially not when he’s looking at him like that.

“Fine,” he replies coyly, “But only if you make it worth my while.”

“Have I ever failed to do that?” Shisui chuckles, earning a glare and a sigh from Itachi – it’s true, of course, but does he need to be so smug about it.

When they arrive at the Mission Room at noon, Kakashi is nowhere to be found – in fact, the only person there is Iruka Umino, manning the Mission desk all by himself. However, he must know the reason for their visit since, as soon as they greet him, he gives them an apologetic smile.

“Kakashi’s running late again,” he says, “But he should be here any minute now.”

Itachi nods – having worked with Kakashi before, he’s very familiar with the man’s tendency to be late to everything.

Suddenly, the doors of the Mission Room open, and Itachi sees Kakashi standing in the doorway.

“Yo,” he waves at them, “Apologies for being late – as usual, I got lost on the road of life.”

Itachi sighs and sees Iruka roll his eyes, but Shisui only smiles.

“I’ve heard those could be treacherous,” Shisui chuckles, and by the curve of Kakashi’s eye, Itachi can tell that he’s smiling under his mask.

“Finally, someone who understands,” Kakashi replies, then adds, “Well, since we are finally all here, let’s talk about your new mission.”

Itachi frowns, looking at Kakashi. It was not unusual for S-rank missions to be relayed through words rather than writing so that there was no trace of evidence – but not when other people were present to hear the details. Could it be something else?

Kakashi cleared his throat, then glanced between Itachi and Shisui.

“Tsunade-sama thinks that it’s time for the two of you to have your own genin teams. But, given your young age and lack of teaching experience, she believes you need some…practice. Apparently, she has been very concerned over some jonin-senseis’ teaching methods.”

“I wonder who she was referring to,” Itachi hears Iruka mutter under his breath. Shisui hears it too – by his expression, it’s clear that he’s barely holding back a snicker.

“Lucky for you, there are a few teams currently in need of jonin leadership. As you know, Asuma and Kurenai have gotten married last week and have been granted leave by Tsunade-sama to depart on their honeymoon, and Guy is out of commission due to injury for at least a couple months,” Kakashi continues.

Itachi stares at Kakashi, dumbfounded, trying to process the news. The last thing he expected from this meeting was becoming a jonin-sensei, even if temporarily. Itachi knows he shouldn’t be so stunned – after all, almost every single jonin eventually got a genin team to lead. The thought of having to teach someone fills Itachi with dread – he’s never been good with people. Meanwhile, Shisui, with his warm smile and charming personality, surely will have no troubles connecting with his students.

“Yugao has taken over team Kurenai, which leaves team Asuma and team Guy without a jonin-sensei,” Kakashi explains, looking from Itachi to Shisui, “So Tsunade-sama has decided that you, Shisui, are going to lead team Asuma and you, Itachi, will take over for team Guy. While none of the kids on either team is genin, they are all young, so that should give you some practice with teaching.”

Itachi frowns – he has never worked with team Guy before, but he has heard Sasuke complain about two people on the team – Neji Hyuga and Rock Lee. Sasuke felt that having a byakugan gave Neji an unfair advantage in almost everything, and, upon hearing that, Itachi could only smile sadly. At the time, Sasuke hadn’t yet unlocked his Sharingan, so it was understandable he felt that way. As for Rock Lee, he’d defeated Sasuke in chunin exam preliminaries with his unparallel taijutsu skills. While Itachi loathed seeing Sasuke hurt or upset, that was an important moment that made him train even harder.

Still, Itachi cannot help but wonder why Tsunade-sama has assigned him to this team to gain experience teaching. After all, two team members were chunin, and Neji Hyuga has recently become a jonin. What exactly does she expect him to teach them?

While Itachi is less than thrilled about his new role, Shisui couldn’t be more excited. A happy smile blooms on his lips at Kakashi’s words, and his eyes sparkle with excitement.

“So, we’ll be jonin-sensei for a while, huh,” he says, “That will be so much fun!”

“Trust me, sometimes it’s too much fun to deal with,” Kakashi sighs as he shakes his head.

Kakashi walks over to Iruka and rests his hand on his shoulder, “Why don’t you give them the mission scrolls, sensei?”

The casual yet affectionate touching – combined with the faint shine of the wedding ring on Kakashi’s finger – sends jolts of envy through Itachi’s core. There are few things he desires more than to be able to hold Shisui’s hand in public, to kiss him as they walk around the village, to marry him, but he knows he cannot – at least not yet. Their relationship has been a secret ever since it started more than four years ago because Itachi was an heir to his clan and was expected to marry and have children of his own one day. Now a man grown, he’d realized that he didn’t want that – all he wants is to be with Shisui, forever.

Only, nothing’s ever that simple. Shisui loves him with all his heart, that much is true, but he has never once protested their relationship being secret, making Itachi wonder why he doesn’t want others to know. As much as Itachi would like to ask Shisui to marry him, he’s utterly terrified of ruining what they have, so he doesn’t. Fear niggles at Itachi’s heart, making him worry that he’s selfish for pursuing this relationship, putting his own interests over those of the clan – after all, he gets married to Shisui, he all but guarantees that he’ll never have children.

“Here are the mission scrolls,” Iruka’s voice distracts Itachi from his thoughts.

To his surprise, the scrolls he and Shisui receive look identical. Iruka must have noticed his confusion, as he quickly explains, “This is a joint mission.”

Itachi unfurls the scroll, quickly glances over the writing, then pauses, surprised. A tiny faraway village is having troubles with some bandits – a problem, of course, but nowhere near big enough to send two full teams of shinobi – three jonin and five chunin – to deal with it.

“They have requested two teams?” Shisui asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Iruka nods, “Tsunade-sama has tried telling the village’s elder that one team could easily handle it, but he was adamant – and offered a handsome sum, almost twice as much as people pay for an average S-rank mission. Godaime-sama has decided that this mission should be assigned to you since there aren’t many other missions happening currently where shinobi of your experience are needed. Besides, she thinks this mission is a perfect chance for you to learn how to be jonin-sensei in a relatively low-risk environment.”

Itachi sighs – it’s been a while since he’s last had to do a mission that was this easy. But, perhaps, a break couldn’t hurt. Especially since he and Shisui are going on this mission together.  

“Are we expected to set out today?” Itachi asks, glancing over the scroll again.

“No,” Kakashi shakes his head, “Tsunade-sama thinks it’s important for you to meet your new teams first, so she has sent a bird to the village elder saying you’ll depart in two days.”

“Understood,” Itachi nods.

“Do you have any more questions?” Kakashi raises an eyebrow, glancing between Itachi and Shisui, “Very well, then it’s settled.”

“Your new teams have been instructed to meet you downstairs,” Iruka chimes in, then glances at the clock, “They should be there in about ten minutes.”

“Then we better get going,” Shisui replies, his excitement palpable.

“Enjoy your first foray into teaching,” Kakashi’s voice sounds suspiciously like a warning.

“You will do great,” Iruka offers an encouraging smile, “I’ve taught all these kids at the Academy, and they are all good kids – if you can find the right approach. Good luck on the mission.”

“Yeah, good luck,” Kakashi nods gingerly, “You are going to need it.”

Itachi sighs in exasperation and looks to Shisui for support, but it seems nothing can damper his enthusiasm.

“So…” he says, as they walk down the stairs, “That was…unexpected, to say the least.”

“It was,” Shisui nods, then looks at Itachi, “But isn’t it so exciting? We finally get to teach someone.”

Itachi is envious of Shisui’s energy some days, and this is definitely one of those days.

“Tsunade-sama said that we should get to know our new teams,” Itachi muses, “Should we take them to the training fields and see what they are capable of?”

“Yes, that’s a good idea,” Shisui agrees easily, “Getting rid of bandits will involve fighting, so it’ll be useful to test their abilities. And after we are done with that, we should take them out to eat.”

“Take them to eat?” Itachi repeats, confused.

“It never hurts to get to know your team not only as shinobi but as people,” Shisui offers with a shrug, “People often feel more comfortable talking about more personal things over food.”

The suggestion makes Itachi frown – still, he trusts Shisui’s judgment. After all, he’s the one that’s good with people.

“Very well,” Itachi says resolutely, meeting Shisui’s gaze, “We’ll do that.”

[xshinigamikittenx]

Just A Taste

CW/TW: semi public sex, fingering this piece is actually pretty kink free just hot office sex :)

A/N: So this piece was one of the first fics that I ever wrote. It's about a year old now? Not sure lolol but I figured I would post it here bc why not. It's a birthday one shot with Gojo x Reader. Hope its not awful :)

P.S. I'll also add the link to the mini Spotify playlist I made for this piece. yeeeee (under the break)

Just a Taste

The snow flurries kissed your skin as you walked further into the school grounds. You held Gojo’s gift to your chest, trying to calm your nerves. You remembered how much Gojo loved kikufuku, and you hoped he wouldn’t think you were trying too hard. The night you met him in the Japanese market he bought himself a box identical to the one in your hands. You did have to go pretty far out of the way to get them but he was worth it. You heard laughing and yelling spilling out from behind the door to the common room, a warm, inviting glow escaping from underneath. You took a breath and walked in.

As you entered the room you could see Itadori and Nabara standing in front of Gojo, holding a fistful of cake and yelling into each other’s faces. You couldn’t help but laugh, they were always going at each other while Megumi stood nearby with his hands in his pockets watching indifferently. You knew even though he looked uninterested he was definitely enjoying the show, ready to break them up if necessary. Panda and Toge were sitting at the table stuffing their face with the sweet confection while Aoi pounded the table, probably on another diatribe about another tall curvy girl he saw that he can’t stop thinking about, as Maki rolled her eyes .

When your eyes landed on Gojo he was already looking at you. His crystalline eyes tracking your every move. His hair was down. The snow white tresses just long enough to graze the tips of his long ivory lashes. You offered him a small smile. The heat in your face rose from his hovering gaze, making your insides turn cartwheels as he started walking towards you. “Happy Birthday,” you say, holding up his gift, slightly wet from the melted remnants of snow on your way in. He smiles a full beaming grin as he looks down at you, “Look at you being so thoughtful. These are my favorite!” He steps closer and reaches out to take the box from you, wrapping his hands around yours. His voice is low as he leans down and whispers in your ear, “I tend to reward thoughtfulness.”

The noise of the party seems to fade as you feel the blood rush to your cheeks. He straightens up, sliding the box out of your possession and grazing the side of your face with his free hand, pushing your hair behind your ear. His hand finds its way to your chin, lifting it up to look into your eyes, “You know, you really are so cute when you’re flustered.” Of course this just makes you more flustered and you look away, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to reign in the tension building at your core. Gojo closes his eyes and laughs, breaking the tension as he tucks your gift under his arm, “Come on y/n, now that you’re here we can actually start this party.” He puts his arm around you and walks towards the cake sitting in the middle of the tables.

You walk together and scan the room, all of the students are already here and the cake has already been cut. Were you that late? “It looks like it’s going pretty well so far,” you say resting your hands on your bag. No one else seemed to notice you were here yet, but as you walked closer to the center of the room Itadori turned away from Nobara to study you. “Gojo sensei, who’s your friend?”

You wondered how he was going to introduce you. You only spoke for a little while in the market. He was asking you about which flavor kikufuku he should get and you didn’t even realize he was talking to you until he tried to get your attention for the third time. He made jokes about how good or bad the different flavors would taste and you absentmindedly wondered what it would look like to see him put one in his mouth. The thought of his hands and his lips distracted you while he spoke until he cut the conversation short and bought a flavor you didn’t even get to explain. He seemed like he needed to go somewhere quickly so you didn’t think much of it but before he left he asked you for your number, “Just in case I need some more explanation on what things taste like,” he said, smiling. Of course you gave it to him but he didn’t put your number in his phone before he walked away, so you definitely weren’t expecting him to call you and invite you to his birthday party.

Nonetheless, Gojo didn’t skip a beat replying to Itadori. “This is my date, y/n, she’s an expert at food tasting so I wanted to invite her to taste the cake all you lovely first years made.” Your eyes grew wide at the word ‘date’ but Itadori didn’t notice because Nobara started yelling again. She must’ve heard what Gojo said because she was already (loudly) explaining that the cake tasted so shitty because Itadori added too much flour. He immediately spun on her and threw the handful of cake he held in his hand in her direction. Your jaw dropped as Gojo bent over and started laughing. It only took a second for Nobara to respond, smashing a fistful of cake in Itadori’s face. The force knocked him into you and Gojo, smearing frosting all over the both of you. Gojo held onto you so you, keeping you balanced after the backwards momentum sent you falling into Megumi’s chest. “Oi. Megumi,” he said nodding his head towards the cake brawl behind you, “get them to calm down will you? I’ve got to get this little mess cleaned up.”

You look down at your clothes, and blush, that frosting had definitely done a number on your outfit. Megumi sighs in response and you hear him yelling at Itadori and Nobara as Gojo leads you out of the room. He keeps his arm around you as you walk and all you can think about is how comforting it feels to feel his warmth against your skin. You see the bathroom coming up ahead but he walks you past it, keeping his eyes straight ahead with a smirk on his face. You look back just to make sure you weren’t crazy, “Gojo, the bathroom is-,” he cuts you off, “I never said we were going to the bathroom.”

He leads you into a room that looks like a large office. The large desk at the head of the room was surrounded by bookshelves that lined both walls with meticulously organized books on each shelf. With nothing but the moonlight streaming in through the large windows behind the desk it was difficult to see much else, but the only thing worth seeing right now was Gojo. He had walked into your field of view as you surveyed the room. He’d traded in his usual ensemble for a black button down and patterned white and black pants. Only he could pull this off and look this damn good. Your eyes follow him as he reaches into the desk drawer, retrieves a handkerchief and leans back on the front of the desk, reaching his hand out to you. “Here, let’s take care of this before it gets any worse.”

You feel the warmth climbing from your insides to your face, embarrassed by how ridiculous you must look right now. You walk towards him and he leans forward grabbing you by the waist. Your inches away from his face standing between his legs as he brings the handkerchief up to your neck. Your pulse quickens as you search his face, but his eyes are trained on his hand trailing further down to the frosting on your shirt. His lips are parted when he speaks, “Humor me y/n,” his finger slides through a portion of sweet mess at the curve of your breast, “what do you think the cake tastes like?” He holds his finger out, watching you with hooded eyes, wordlessly asking you to lick it off his frosting covered digit. Your eyes widen at the question and you can feel your insides doing backflips, but the look in his eyes urge you to push the doubt out of your mind.

You lean forward and wrap your lips around his offering using your tongue to lick him clean. You look up at this through your lashes and place both your hands onto his. You feel his body tense up as he watches you. “Fuck.” He slips his finger out of your mouth and places his hand on the side of your face as he pulls you in by the waist. His lips crash into yours as his tongue explores your open mouth, still sweet from the frosting you just tasted from him. Your hands travel down his neck and grip his collar trying to diminish all the space between you. His hand moves into your hair as the arm around your waist moves further down, palming your ass through the fabric of your dress. He moans into your lips as he spins you around and picks you up to sit you on the desk. You feel the length of his arousal pressing against you through his pants as he pulls away, never breaking eye contact with you as he makes quick work of the buttons on his shirt.

His hands travel up your thighs, squeezing gently as he gets closer to your center, but he stops short and looks down at you, “I hope you know how incredibly sexy you are.” Your breath catches as you look away, you didn’t know what to say to that. Gojo reaches up with one of his hands, placing his thumb on your lower lip. You meet his moonlit eyes and they’re narrowed slightly from the small smile on his face. “Can I show you?” You nod your head in response, unable to let anything but your shallow breaths escape your lips. His other hand, still resting on your thigh, deftly moves your soaking panties to the side and caresses your soft entrance. Your body reacts before you think and you tilt your head back releasing a soft moan as you place both your hands behind you allowing you to move closer to the edge of the desk.

Gojo slips two fingers inside you, curling them to trigger the spot that sends you into another dimension. You grip the edge of the desk, willing yourself not to be too loud because everyone else is just down the hallway and you wouldn’t be able to show your face at the party again if they heard you fucking their teacher. His fingers are relentless, pushing you closer and closer to climax. Your moans are sounding more like whimpers now, begging him to send you over the edge. He seems to understand and uses his thumb to circle your clit. “Come for me y/n,” he says, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, “I want to see if you taste as sweet as you look.” His words ripple through you, unleashing waves of pleasure that leave your legs weak.

You’re still panting when you look up and see Gojo put his fingers in his mouth, still slick from the dripping between your thighs. “Mmm...you are sweet,” he says watching you come down from your ecstasy. You bite your lip in response and a low growl leaves his throat as he reaches into his pocket before he drops his pants releasing his fully hard cock dripping with precum. In a matter of seconds he had ripped the packet he held in his hand with his teeth and rolled a condom on before he pulled your legs up forcing you onto your back and slid your ruined panties off your legs before crossing them like an ‘x’ in the air. You hold onto the edge of the desk as Gojo grips your thighs and eases into your aching pussy. “Fuck, y/n I’m not even all the way in yet and you feel so fucking good.”

Your breath hitches as his fingers tighten around your thighs, a restrained attempt at maintaining his control. Inch by inch he’s filling you up, a slow hiss leaving his lips as he stretches your walls to make room for his length. “Fffuuck,” he groans, as he begins to move with slow, deep thrusts. You use the desk as leverage to lift your hips and match his rhythm, letting him go deeper. This rewards you another low moan, “Mmm..fuck this.” His voice comes out in rasps and he leans forward spreading your legs, with your ankles pressed into his shoulders. He buries himself into you, hitting that delicious spot, threatening to send you into space all over again. The control he had seconds before was released in every quickening thrust as his breathing came fast and shallow. You’re panting for air, soft whines escaping your lips as you dig your nails into his back in a desperate attempt to keep you from making more noise. Gojo must’ve felt it because he growls and leans down to bite your neck. You arch your back and tangle your fingers in his hair. “Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy,” he breathes in your ear as he cups the side of your face with his hand. A simpering moan pushes past your lips. You’re at your limit, the tension building inside you was about to overflow. Your plush walls tighten around him and he pushes up from the desk, looking down at you as he grips your thighs bottoming out inside you. “I want to see that pretty face when you come, baby. Let me see you.” His words push you over the edge, crashing into wave after wave of pleasure as your walls milk his cock. He was right on the edge himself, digging his fingers into your thighs as his body tensed up, “Fuck y/n...fuck...fuck…” You felt his cock throbbing inside you as he came and he dropped his forehead to meet yours.

“You okay?” he asked, still inside of you. “I’m actually more than okay,” you respond as your eyes flutter open to see him looking back at you, smiling. He laughs, pulling you up with him as he eases out of you to tie the condom off and wrap it in the previously discarded handkerchief. You hop off the desk and straighten your dress as Gojo redresses himself, eyeing you all the while. “Well, if you’re more than okay now, how do you think you’ll feel if we try going to dinner?” You turn to look at him, he had his hands in his pockets, smirking at you. You laughed from the sheer craziness of it all. This man was asking you out right after having sex on his desk. “I think I’ll feel pretty amazing,” you say, smiling back at him. You pick up your bag and walk towards him placing your hand on his chest. “Then it’s a date, ‘date’.” He smiles as he leans down to kiss you. He gives you his arm to lead you out of the room and you get a look at the mess of papers you both made strewn across the floor. “Wait, shouldn’t we clean this up?” Gojo opens the door and walks you both out. “Oh, no need. That’s not my office.”

[gumnut-logic]

The dyin’ slob

This is @the-lady-razorsharp ‘s fault as she pointed a post out this morning.

Was called ‘Cruel to be kind’ but found a better title.

A little fluffy Virgil and Gordon. I hope you enjoy :D

-o-o-o-

Virgil hurried through post-flight. The rescue had been a simple one, fortunately. he had been able to manage it on his own and in the shortest time possible. There were matters at home he would be more comfortable seeing to in person.

Sure, there was nothing serious to be concerned about.

He told himself that as he lowered Two’s hatch and leapt onto the concrete hangar floor.

Really, it was only a flu.

One that had kept his helmet on the entire rescue. God forbid if he transmitted anything to people already in dire straits with their health.

Fortunately, standard procedure kept both him and their equipment bug free.

He still didn’t like it.

Removing his helmet was bliss itself as he strode into the lockers. A few breaths later he had his uniform, baldric and all, stashed what needed stashing and chucked the rest in the laundry.

The hot shower was absolute bliss.

So okay, there may be some aching muscles, but the exosuit had been needed. He could handle it.

He didn’t luxuriate in the water, he had more important things to attend to.

A towel and a loose jumpsuit later and he was padding barefoot up into the depths of the villa in search of the one brother who had been on his mind the entire rescue.

He found him in his bedroom.

The holoprojector was projecting some kind of fish and there was music blaring...well, it could be called music, he guessed. It sounded more like recycling bin lids being smashed together or that time Two had dropped that pod onto the hangar floor from twenty metres up.

His brother lay prone on his bed, eyes closed, brow wrinkled, skin pale.

Virgil fished the remote out of a limp hand and hit the kill switch.

The sudden silence was a blessing.

“Wha-?” Bleary eyes opened and sought out the cause. “Birg?” A slow blink. “Whatcha do that for? Pu’ it back on!” A hand flailed for the remote and missed.

“Gordon, you were told to rest.”

“Don’ wanna. Wanna die active.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You’re not dying. You have the flu.”

“Dyin’. Tell Penny I love her.”

It was at this point Virgil realised the state of the room. “What the hell have you been doing?” There were food wrappers, crumbs and a smeared slice of cake on the bedcovers.

“Last meal. Wanna go out ‘appy.”

“If you’re eating, you’re on the mend.” Which was a good thing and had Virgil feeling immeasurably better, but his brother’s bed was a rubbish tip and definitely a health hazard. His fingers darted over the covers, nabbing wrappers and several empty crisp packets. “You are a slob.”

“I’m a dyin’ slob. I live an’ die true to my nature.”

“You can say that again.” Virgil grabbed a recycle bin and a pair of latex gloves and began shovelling crap off his brother’s bed.

“Hey, that was still goo’.”

Virgil eyed the half eaten pancake with congealed cream. “Perhaps, if you want to add food poisoning to your death certificate.” It was tossed into the bin. “Where did you get pancakes from anyway?”

“Stash. Emergency stash. I’ secret.” Gordon flopped in a dramatic way. Particularly dramatic since he was still lying down.

An arched eyebrow. “Sure.” But the next wrapper contained the remains of a stick of Blackpool Rock.

Virgil held it up, examining it. “Gordon, is this mine?”

Foggy brown eyes peered up at him. “Oh.”

“Gordon! Penny gave them to me.”

“But I wanted some.” It was such a whine, it was painful.

“Then why didn’t you ask her to get you some?”

The grump that appeared on his brother’s face was almost comical. It would be more comical if Virgil wasn’t holding back the urge to add strangulation to his brother’s supposed death certificate.

As it was, Gordon’s mumbled response was a clear indication that he had asked Penny for some Rock, but had been denied in some manner.

Hence the thievery.

Virgil sighed. “You could have ordered your own.”

“Not the same.”

“But stealing mine is?”

“You don’t mind. You’re a softy and I’m sick.” Yes, that was definitely a childish pout.

“I’m a softy, huh?” He must remember to disprove that allegation and seek the appropriate revenge.

After his brother was better.

Virgil sighed.

Gordon knew him far too well.

“You suck.”

“I’m dyin’ here.”

Virgil shoved a slice of cake in the bin, followed by three more empty crisp packets and a cookie wrapper. For god’s sake, the rescue had only taken him an hour. How much could one flu-ridden aquanaut eat?

There was raspberry jelly in a big blob sitting in a crease of doona fabric. For a split second, his mind registered it as blood and his heart skipped a beat.

“Gordon!”

“Wha-?”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Wa’ accident.”

“You could have cleaned it up.”

“Can’t. Dyin’”

Oh, for crying out loud. “You’ll need to get out of bed and change the sheets.”

“Why?”

Virgil pulled back the edge of the doona to uncover his brother for some motivation only to find that a worm of spray cheese was curled up beside him.

“My god.”

“Wha-?”

“Gordon, get out of bed.”

“Why?”

“I need to change the sheets.”

“Why?”

“Because you are disgusting, that’s why.”

“Don’ wanna. Dyin’.”

Oh, he was getting closer to dying by the moment. Fratricide. Definitely fratricide.

“Move your ass or lose it.”

“No.”

“Gordon.”

“Let me die in peace.” And as if to prove the point, his brother coughed a little and then burst into a horrendous fit, possibly attempting to turn his lungs inside out.

Virgil’s heart softened as he held his little brother. “C’mon, Gordon, relax. Calm your breathing.”

Gordon let out a decidedly childish whimper and curled up under the rancid covers in a ball of misery.

Another attempt. “Let’s get you out of those bedclothes and into something clean. You will feel so much better.”

Gordon grunted. “Leeme ‘lone. Dyin’.”

Virgil straightened up, his back creaking. A sigh. Okay, they were going to have to do this the hard way.

Just like any mission, Virgil gathered his tools first. Fresh sheets, a spare doona, pillow and pillow case. He stacked them up in strategic positions beside his prone and still moaning brother.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get out of bed, so I can change the sheets? You do realise I have a duty of care. One that means I have to make sure you don’t expire due to exposure to your own swill.”

“I’m not a pig.”

“Oh, yes, you are.”

“You hur’ m’ feelings.”

“Too bad. Get out of bed.”

“No.”

“Gordon...”

“No. Lemme die in peace.”

“Then you leave me no choice.”

He didn’t give his brother a chance to question that before ripping off the disgusting doona and throwing it across the floor. Gordon yelped and curled up. He was only wearing pyjama shorts in typical Gordon fashion.

“Virgil!”

Without another word, he stripped the sheets from beneath his brother, whisking them away not unlike a magician removing a tablecloth from under fine china.

Gordon still yelped.

The pillow was chucked and with some determined aquanaut manipulation, the bottom sheet was replaced. Gordon squirmed under his grip. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What needs to be done.”

The pillow was replaced and the new doona gently laid down.

Gordon grabbed at it as if it might suddenly disappear on him again.

“There, done. Please try to keep them clean this time otherwise I’ll do that all over again.”

“You are cruel.” Gordon glared a teary glare up at him.

Virgil grunted. “Yeah, well, you’re disgusting.”

“I’m dyin’. Give me a break.”

Virgil snorted and piled all the discarded bedclothes together and threw them down the laundry chute. He must remember to put in some serious germ killers in with that lot.

“Go to sleep, Gordon. You will feel better, I promise.”

“Hate you.” His little brother curled up into a ball of misery.

“Yeah, sure you do.” He couldn’t help himself, he reached out and brushed Gordon’s hair back from his forehead. He was a lot cooler than he had been earlier.

Thank god.

“You’re getting better. Get some sleep.”

Gordon mumbled something into the sheets and closed his eyes.

Virgil brushed his hair again, gently stroking his fingers against wavy strawberry blond.

He didn’t leave until his little brother’s breathing dropped into the regularity of sleep.

A small smile to himself and he headed towards the door.

Tripping on a stray soda can, he nearly fell flat on his face, barely catching himself on the edge of a desk.

His hand landed in something sticky.

Oh, god.

He bit back his brother’s name as he stalked out.

Disinfectant.

A hose.

Maybe Two’s water cannon.

Yes, his water cannon.

It would solve so many problems.

-o-o-o-

FIN.