#just some 'well as I understand these are the steps to *express* these feelings' not quite spontaneity going on)

[shujichii]

it was exactly 1:03 am when your careful movements had screeched to an abrupt halt, and you swear your heart nearly lurched out of the confines of your chest as a large shadow loomed over you.

you instantly whipped around, mouth stuffed with food, slightly backing up against the refrigerator and glancing up at the man you call your husband— who was solely responsible for the jumpscare.

for a moment, you just stared at him with wide eyes, and he simply stared back. no words exchanged, the peaceful silence of the night replaced by the thumping of your own heartbeat being the only sound. you hastily swallow your food before finally parting your lips at last.

"you scared me!" you whisper-shouted, your hand flying up to press against your chest where your heart was still racing erratically.

finally, his expression shifted— his lips curving into a small, sheepish smile; lightly ruffling the back of his hair as he took a small step back.

".. sorry, i didn't mean to scare you."

his voice was thick with sleep, a touch deeper than usual.

your expression softened, the fright from earlier easing up as you gently closed the refrigerator behind you, now the only illumination in the kitchen being the soft golden hued dim light.

"it's fine," you chuckle softly. "my bad, did i wake you up when i got up?"

you did, yes. was that a bad thing? hardly. your husband was just simply too used to having you in his arms as you both slept, safe and sound within his snug and comforting embrace. he always seemed to stir awake whenever he felt you moving away from his arms, just as he did earlier.

he assumed that maybe you had some business to finish in the bathroom, or that you had simply gotten up to fetch yourself a cool glass of water. so when 10 minutes passed with no sign of you coming back to bed, naturally, he was starting to feel the worry creep in. he was a man on a mission to find his wife and bring her back right where she belongs— in his arms, of course.

and now, here he was.

"it's not a big deal," he shook his head. "were you hungry?"

"uhh.."

"want me to make you something?"

"no, no! it's okay, i just woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't fall asleep for some reason." you finally said, although warmth bloomed in your chest at the way your husband was willing to cook for you in the dead of the night just because his beloved wife had a small craving.

he nodded his head in understanding, the remnants of sleep in his eyes slowly beginning to fade away. you moved away from the refrigerator to walk towards the counter, bringing a glass forward. just before you could reach for the jug, you stilled.

in 2 strides, he had closed the distance. he was standing right behind you now, his broader frame hovering over you— the solidness of his chest almost pressing against your back, as he, too, reached for his glass, while his other hand absentmindedly came up to rest on your waist. your heart skipped a beat at the sudden proximity.

... not that you were complaining.

before you knew it, he was already bringing the glass to his lips. your gaze darted down at your own glass which he had also filled while he was at it.

"well, someone's quiet."

now you were pretty sure he was doing this on purpose now. his hand? still on your waist, his thumb drawing small, featherlight circles over your skin. and the man himself? still standing right behind you, the warmth of his body intertwining with yours.

you could very clearly hear the smirk in his voice.

you huffed, ignoring the way your cheeks warmed up as you gulped down your water.

"you're being awfully flirty for someone who just got up from bed," you shot, finally turning around to face him. and the moment you did? his face was close. too close.

"what, i can't flirt with my own wife whenever i please now?" he raised an eyebrow, leaning down just slightly— his nose lightly brushing against yours in a ticklish, teasing gesture.

you rolled your eyes in response, yet you couldn't help the smile spreading across your lips. you merely hummed, your hands sliding up to wrap around his neck, tugging him down towards you just slightly, and he leaned down instinctively. you placed a soft, fleeting peck on his lips, watching the way his playful expression softened. both of his arms had already found their way towards your waist, gentle and steady.

"give me another kiss, pretty. preferably one that lasts longer."

you giggled, slightly shaking your head. greedy. you reached up again, your lips claiming his in a sweet kiss, slow and unhurried. and he returned the kiss in no less than a second, each movement of his lips against yours speaking like a soft confession of his unwavering love and devotion for you. he pulled you closer towards him, his hold on you tightening— but not uncomfortably. you instantly melted into him, nails gently grazing his scalp.

his lips tilted into the faintest smile in-between the kiss.

you immediately felt it, and smiled too.

that, in turn, made him smile a tad bit wider.

after a moment, you pulled away, lips slightly parted. a soft yet undeniably lovesick smile was present on both of your faces, and the way you two gazed into each other's eyes said more than what words could at that moment.

wordlessly, he began gently swaying with you still between his arms, guiding you into a slow dance. a surprised laugh left your lips, and to him, that itself was the melody for the impromptu dance— your steady breaths mingling with his, shared laughter, stolen kisses and hushed confessions.

perhaps getting caught in the kitchen past midnight wasn't so bad after all.

♡ gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, itadori yuji, okkotsu yuta (jjk), zayne, sylus, caleb (lads), kurosaki ichigo, ishida uryuu, hisagi shuhei (bleach), mammon, satan, solomon, diavolo, simeon (obm), uzui tengen, rengoku kyojuro, tomioka giyuu, kamado tanjiro (kny), eren yeager, armin arlert, jean kirschtein (aot), anyone else you'd like. (honourable mentions; sung jinwoo and wriothesley because they're fine.)

[nyoomfruits]

@steviethenarwhal reblogged this post with the following tag

and i was like YEAH i kind of need to see that too SO. i wrote it lmao

--

Oscar had plans, on how this meeting was going to go, on what he was going to say when he saw Carlos again. There was a speech, about what happened to him, about the other Carlos, about what they mean to each other, in that universe.

Then he was going to ask. If Carlos wanted to try with him, too, maybe. Go on a date. Just to see if they would work just as well as the other Carlos and Oscar.

But that all sort of goes flying out of the window when he finally lays eyes on Carlos, his Carlos.

He’s standing in the door opening of his apartment, looking confused and apprehensive, and Oscar.

Oscar can’t do anything but kiss him.

He’s wanted to. He’s wanted to so badly, ever since he got to know Carlos better, got to understand him better. But it had felt wrong, kissing a Carlos that wasn’t his. That didn’t belong to him.

Carlos’s lips are soft – probably some stupidly fancy brand of lipbalm – and warm against Oscar’s, and for a moment – a wonderful beautiful world tilting moment – it’s just them, their lips pressed together, Oscar’s hand fisted in the front of Carlos’s shirt.

Then Carlos pushes him away. “Oscar, what-“ He starts, staring at Oscar with wide eyes. “Why.”

“Shit, sorry, I got carried away, I just-“ He takes a deep breath. “Did you know we are married?” At Carlos’s stunned expression, he continues, “Well, I mean, not here. In another universe. We’re pretty happy together too, from what I gathered.”

“Are you- Do I need to call someone?” Carlos asks, hesitant, cautious, taking a step back.

Oscar rolls his eyes. “I’m not crazy,” he says.

“You were in a coma for 2 months,” Carlos states, holding up his hands. “It wouldn’t be weird, if your brain-“

“Look, do you want to date me or not?” Oscar asks, a little impatiently. This is not at all going how he’d planned it. He’d forgotten how goddamn infuriating Carlos could be. Other Carlos was... Actually, no, he was still pretty infuriating. Oscar had just chalked it up to his other universe-ness.  

Carlos is staring at him like he can’t decide to kiss him again or call an ambulance. Oscar, not willing to wait or hope he settles for the first, throws up his hands. “Fine! Forget it,” he says, turns around to stalk away, but a hand snakes around his wrist.

“Wait,” Carlos says. “Let’s just… Come inside? We’ll talk.”

Carlos’s hand is warm around his wrist, and his eyes are big and doe like and make Oscar feel like he’s drowning and his mouth is pulled up into a hesitant smile and Oscar knows what he tastes like, now.

“Okay,” Oscar says. “Okay, let’s talk.”

[zinflo]

Mha or jjk men (doesn’t matter who) reaction to their kids snapping at their mom

Whoever you are, thank very much for your request ♥︎ I decided to go with JJK instead of MHA since I haven’t released any work yet in relation to JJK. Hope you like it! — 🐉 𓂃🖊

IT’S THE DISRESPECT FOR ME ☞.ᐣ.ᐟ

FEATURING ᯓ★ SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO, CHOSO KAMO, KENTO NANAMI, RYŌMEN SUKUNA + TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS ᯓ★ Their reaction to their kid snapping at their mother (you ♥︎)

CONTENT ᯓ★ Parent!reader, sfw/fluff, mild language, petnames

⌞ SATORU GOJO ⌝

✄┈┈★ Gojo for sure is definitely ‘THE PROTECTIVE DAD.’

✄┈┈★ He’s usually the fun, carefree parent that lets his kids have a lot of freedom, but disrespecting their mother? Hell to the no.

✄┈┈★ The moment his kid raises their voice at you, his usual playful demeanour has gone down the drain in a heartbeat. He gives them a serious, piercing stare from behind his signature blindfold, and his voice drops a few notches.

✄┈┈★ “Woah, c’mon now. You’ve just gone from zero to one hundred.” His steps are slow until he’s finally stood right by your side but also in front of his child. “Change that tone because you don’t get to talk to your mum like that. Apologize. Now.”

✄┈┈★ If they continue to be stubborn and refuse to apologise, he kneels down to their level, still calm but firm, and asks them why they think it’s okay to act that way. Gojo wants his kid to reflect on their actions rather than just apologize for the sake of it.

✄┈┈★ Once the situation cools down, he makes sure to remind them how much you do for them. “Your mum is hardworkin’, amazin’ and is the main reason why you even get to live like a little prince/princess. Show some respect.”

✄┈┈★ Later, he’ll go back to being his usual goofy self where he wraps his arms around your waist, his soft lips brushing against your ear. “Don’t mind them, you’re still a great mum to them, sweetheart. Just give them some time, that's all.”

⌞ SUGURU GETO ⌝

✄┈┈★ Honestly? Geto just screams ‘THE WISE DAD.’

✄┈┈★ His ideology when it comes to parenting consists of being gentle yet firm discipline and doesn’t tolerate disrespect towards you. There’s simply no arguing about it.

✄┈┈★ So moment he hears his child snap at you, his expression darkens. “Excuse me? I know damn well I’m not going deaf. So prove me wrong and try saying that again, but with respect this time.”

✄┈┈★ If they talk back, he gives them a calm but chilling stare that immediately makes them regret it. He’s not one to raise his voice—his disappointment is enough to make them feel guilty. This man is appalled, he does and I mean DOES NOT want his child to grow up acting like those monkeys with no manners or respect.

✄┈┈★ If the child is still stubborn, he removes privileges—no going out to hang with friends, no social media, until they apologize and genuinely understand their mistake.

✄┈┈★ After everything is settled, he always makes sure to reassure them with a hug but reminds them: “Respect goes both ways. You give it, you get it.”

✄┈┈★ As you both watch them walk away to their bedroom to sulk away, Geto grabs your chin in a firm grip before planting a soft peck on your forehead. “God, I love you dear but I think maybe you should give my parentin’ style a go. It’ll teach them to know their place, hm?”

⌞ CHOSO KAMO ⌝

✄┈┈★ The family oriented guy is 100% ‘THE GENTLE DAD.’

✄┈┈★ Choso rarely gets angry, but when he does, it’s serious.

✄┈┈★ The moment he hears his child snap at you, his protective instincts kick in, and he immediately steps in between you and the child. “That’s not how we talk to our mother.” His voice is low but firm.

✄┈┈★ If the child argues, he stares them down silently—his disappointed expression is worse than being yelled at.

✄┈┈★ He believes in talking things out, so he kneels and asks, “Why are you upset? Tell me, so we can fix this together.” He wants them to understand that frustration doesn’t justify rudeness.

✄┈┈★ He won’t force an immediate apology, but he will expect them to reflect and apologize on their own. If they don’t, he withholds affection—no cuddles, no high fives/fist pumps or no warm interactions until they understand.

✄┈┈★ Once they do apologize, he pulls them into a long hug and tells them, “We respect each other in this family. Especially your mother.”

✄┈┈★ While the child is in Choso’s embrace, Choso looks up and meets your eyes. He winks and his lips curl upwards before mouthing, “love you, angel.”

⌞ KENTO NANAMI ⌝

✄┈┈★ Strict? For sure ‘THE AUTHORITATIVE DAD.’

✄┈┈★ Nanami rarely raises his voice, but he’s for damn sure not letting disrespect slide when it comes to you.

✄┈┈★ The moment the child snaps, he immediately calls them out in a stern but controlled tone. “Enough! That is no way to be speakin’ to your mother like that.”

✄┈┈★ If the child continues, he simply says, “Go to your room. Now. We will talk when you are calm.” He refuses to entertain arguments in the heat of the moment.

✄┈┈★ Once they’ve cooled down, he sits them down and gets down to business, “Disagreements happen, but respect should never be lost. Your mother loves you and works hard for you. Don’t think you can speak to her how ever you like because I won’t allow it.”

✄┈┈★ He expects a proper apology, not just a mumbled “sorry.” If they don’t mean it, he waits patiently until they do.

✄┈┈★ Afterwards, he makes sure they understand that family is built on mutual respect, and he reassures them with a firm but comforting pat on the head.

✄┈┈★ Once he leaves the child alone in their bedroom to reflect on their actions, he’s met with you leaning your head against the wall so you can listen in on their conversation. A smirk crept up his face as he cupped your cheeks with his hands and locked eyes with you. “I’m sorry about before, honey. You’re perfect with everything you do, even if your way of parenting is more lenient than mine.”

⌞ RYŌMEN SUKUNA ⌝

✄┈┈★ Yeah… let’s all back away from ‘THE RUTHLESS DAD.’

✄┈┈★ Because that child is literally cooked. Without negotiation, the King of Curses expects obedience and respect so he’s pissed the moment he hears the disrespect.

✄┈┈★ His rage instant. His sharp eyes glare down at the child all the while one of his beefy hands has hooked itself around the child’s shirt and lifted them off the ground so they’re now eye level to him. “What the hell did you just say, you brat? I know damn well you’re not talkin’ to your mother with that damn mouth of yours.” His voice alone is enough to make them regret it.

✄┈┈★ when I said that child was cooked from the beginning—I meant it. He doesn’t give warnings—his child is immediately disciplined and does not give a damn. Depending on the severity, it could be a timeout, harsh scolding, or taking away privileges. “If you go low, I’ll go lower. Two can play at that game, you ungrateful brat.”

✄┈┈★ He doesn’t tolerate disobedience. If the kid refuses to apologize, he stares them down with his four eyes in pure silence, letting the tension build and the child certainly shaking since his true form is already intimidating as it is.

✄┈┈★ “You think you can talk to my wife like that? Know your place under this household because you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her.” He makes sure they understand that you come first.

✄┈┈★ Once the child apologises to you, he doesn’t get all warm and sweet. His only response is a curt, “Good. Don’t do it again.”

✄┈┈★ However, he secretly keeps an eye on them afterward to make sure they truly understand the lesson. He then turns to you, looking you up and down to see if you’re mentally doing okay before ruffling your hair and rolling his eyes. “Tch, I’m not surprised that annoyin’ brat got disrespectful towards you. You’re too damn soft for your own kind, darling.”

⌞ TOji FUSHIGURO ⌝

✄┈┈★ Toji don’t play, he’s ‘THE STRAIGHTFORWARD DAD.’

✄┈┈★ No ifs or buts, there’s simply no valid explanation for why his kid thinks it is okay to snap at you and would be out of his damn mind to even allow it to happen.

✄┈┈★ The second he hears the kid snap, he’s already standing up by your side. “You’ve got a damn loose mouth, huh?” His voice is sharp, and the atmosphere immediately shifts.

✄┈┈★ He doesn’t yell, but the intensity of his presence is enough to make the kid freeze in their stop. His eyes narrow, and his tone is cold. “Cat got your tongue, hm? Try again. Nicely.”

✄┈┈★ If they don’t apologize, he crosses his arms and waits in silence—because he knows his patience alone is terrifying.

✄┈┈★ He’ll tell them straight up: “Your mum is the only reason why you have a roof over your head and eating three meals a day. You wanna act like spoiled kid? Then you can handle things yourself.”

✄┈┈★ Toji enforces consequences immediately—no dinner, extra chores, something to occupy their mind and realize their mistake.

✄┈┈★ Later, once they’ve apologized, he ruffles their hair roughly and mutters, “Don’t let me catch you doin’ that again. I mean it.” He won’t be overly affectionate, but his point is made.

✄┈┈★ His expression changes when he looks towards you, grasping your hand to pull you closer to his broad chest and gently pecking your cheek before saying, “Stand your ground, baby. And show them next time who’s boss around this house.”

[ofironandivory]

Imagine being there for your F/O when they come out:

❤️ If it has to do with their sexuality, they're a bit nervous about being judged or set aside... Much to their relief, however, you're quite loving and supportive of them, no matter what!

💜 You guide them out of the brief "I understand if you want nothing to do with me now" mindset, making sure they know how loved and treasured they are. You point out that they're perfect for you and that you want them to be their happiest self

❤️ You'll always be there to cheer them on and help them through any hardships they may be facing. If you're queer yourself, they feel even more relieved to have someone who understands and accepts them as they are!

💜 If it has to do with their gender, they may over explain themselves and their identity, nothing a few kisses can't fix! They feel much better once you look them in the eyes and let them know that they're still everything you could've dreamed of

❤️ Helping them explain their new identity so you can get their new pronouns and/or name right, as well as immediately complementing them with their preferred gendered terms makes them quite flustered and giddy

💜 If you're also trans, they may ask you for some tips and tricks to help them express themselves in a more affirming and fun way! It's the first step on a new journey for both of you, and they couldn't be happier to have you by their side through all of it!

❤️ If it's another part of their identity, you let them explain and talk you through any questions. They give you a few pointers on anything you may be confused about and wait patiently for your reaction

💜 Even if you don't entirely understand everything just yet, you still make sure they know that you have their back and that they're completely free to be themselves with you

❤️ Your support means the world to them and knowing that you're sticking with them as they learn more and more about themselves gives them hope for a calm and happy future!

[artsninspo]

COUNTERFEIT - four

⇽ part three

➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

🍒 pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Faith (Original Character) All my characters are black women.

🍒 word count: ~1.8K

🍒 summary: Faith continues working at the bar with Diego, run-ins with Rio continue. Jason reveals the repercussions for his actions and Char reveals unsurprising feelings. Tensions rise at the end of the night when Rio reveals his disposition and intentions.

four - playing games

I’ve been making so much money over the past month. So much so that I can use tips to pay rent and still have cash leftover. Diego calls me in whenever Rio is out of town and it’s like old times - just us horsing around and having fun while getting shit done. He’s the reason I’m here we’re out of our fruit supply so i’m here to top up. You'd be surprised by how much  guys at the bar love themselves some lime wedges on their drinks and orange rinds in their old fashioneds. I’m in the grocery pick up line and I see Jason. He looks startled before he glares looking straight ahead.

 I’m fine if he is. 

Mom has finally accepted we’re over and Char is starting to as well. I use my phone to check out and then we’re standing next to each other, Jason and I.

“So you go from grabbing me to ignoring me?” I ask and his eyes shift to me before he turns. “Okay..” I trail not used to this level of weird behaviour.

“Guys we’re waiting outside of my house telling me about all I’d have to lose if it got out I was inappropriate with my ex. And to never speak to you again” he says.

“What guys?!” I ask.

“Big ones” he says and I remember the security took a picture of his license. 

Rio.

“You were pretty inappropriate” I admit and he swallows. “And you weren’t even willing to fight some big guys for me so I couldn’t have meant as much as you thought I did” I add getting my groceries.

“Faith” he calls.

“Listen to the big ones” I cut him off before loading up my car and leaving him where he stands.

…

D and I set up the bar for tonight.  There are cases of liquor to unload because we’re a dynamic duo and nothing lasts on the shelves. I ran through the supply by using the divisiveness of sports to my advantage. D and I became representatives of each team. For the love of pride and bragging rights we made the competition a variety of drinking games - we burned right through the reserves. The bar has been filling up so much D’s had to send people away and get security. I’m doing really well financially on my own for the first time in my life. It makes me feel closer to my father and uncle.  They lived and breathed their work and I feel similar about helping Diego with his bar and now having big cash deposits to show for it. Once we’re done with the set up I head to lunch to meet Char.

“You’re late” she notifies me.

“As usual” I remind her with a smile and she rolls her eyes.

“You missed dads party” she says, talking about our step father. 

“He’s not my dad. Ours is dead.” I remind her.

“Merrick has been our dad since we were 12” she says and I smile to keep myself from arguing with her.

“I’m gonna need a strong drink tonight” I mutter looking at the menu and she huffs.

“He put you through college” She starts, reminding me of Merrick’s good deeds.

“He’s not my dad and I don’t like politicians” I counter in defiance.

“You need to grow up,” she mutters.

“You need to stop thinking money is everything” I tell her. Her expression softens and she looks away being flirty. I frown, turn and see Rio. I can't hold my smile back as he smirks, nodding in my direction. 

“You’re a mess!”  I chide her.

“He’s handsome and understands classic style” she comments after having only seen him twice. I look at him over again before smiling amused at her. She really must be Merrick’s daughter because if she remembered anything about our father then she’d know Rio’s code isn’t the law. “He has good taste, both places we’ve seen him in have been upscale.” She adds, sounding like mom.

“So you think he’s a gentleman?” I ask.

“You say that like he isn’t” she raises a brow. I haven't told anyone about my run in with Jason and his allegations. Rio is the top culprit.

“I don’t know him. I’ve only seen him around a few times” I shrug, not wanting to overshare.

Char looks surprised. “Lately?”

“No” I admit.

“How do I look?” She whispers adjusting her tits in her shirt. I laugh

“Respectable” I remark just as I’m brought my favorite drink with extra cherries.

“Thank you,” I tell the server.

“What would you like? On the house?”  The server smiles asking Char.

“Chardonnay,” she says, trying to sound classy.

“Chardonnay because my name is Char” I mock when the server leaves and she flips me off.

“How does he remember Your favorite drink if you’ve met him twice?” she inquires.

“He’s attentive,” I shrug. “Also how hard is it to remember tequila soaked cherries. It's harder to remember Chardonnay” I joke and she looks puzzled.

“Shit” she panics and I laugh at her nativité.

“What does he do?” She asks.

“I’ve never asked” I tell her truthfully.

“You’ve never asked, he’s both of our type physically.” Char says growing suspicious of me.

“I never asked because occupation doesn’t impress me” I tell her and Rio comes over with her drink and a smile.

“Anything you want is on the house” he repeats.

“My sister Char” I introduce.

“Rio, nice to meet you.” he smiles and she shakes his hand with a sparkle in her eye. She totally buys the nice guy act which amuses me. Our introduction was much more … tense.

“So Rio, what do you do?” Char asks and I smile embarrassed at her lack of game.

“I work in entertainment, run a few bars and clubs, you know” he says.

“Well that’s great, I work in PR. In case you ever need anything” she smiles.

“Chars the best” I add as a wingwoman. Rio looks me over before smiling.

“Are you working with Diego tonight?” He asks.

“They don’t work together” Char interjects. “Faith is in interior design.” 

“I know she’s been working with Diego on the Bar’s design.” Rio says recovering from his fumble and perceptively fixing it with a believable lie to maintain my secret. “Who’s older?” Rio asks, changing the subject while looking between us.

“Char by eleven months” I respond assisting in the deception. No wonder he juggles two women and doesn't seem stressed.

“Well you’re welcome here anytime, beautiful women are good for business” he flirts making my sister blush as he leaves our table.

“Play a little hard to get” I whisper once he’s gone.

“He’s charming,” she swoons.

“He’s trouble” I tell her. “Probably fantasizing about having both of us at the same time” I tell her and she blanches.

“You’re sick!” She frowns, sounding like mom.

“Earth to Char” I roll my eyes. “He walks around buying drinks and giving away complimentary meals. We aren’t special and gorgeous women are everywhere. Believe me when I tell you he’s out here living great” I tell her and she fans me off.

…

Bars closing in five and Diego and I are doing a tiebreaker. The guys don’t know that our shots are water unlike theirs. Diego lets me win and my side roars. I jump around clumsily pretending to be more sloshed than I am and collect tips as the guys file out. Security turns off the open sign and starts closing the blinds.. Rio walks in from the back and pours from my bottle. He smells the liquid and smiles.

“Water” he says and I nod.

“Diego said it would be dangerous if we were too drunk,” I explain.

“Diego has some business to take care of, so I’ll drop you home” he says and I turn to D.

“D?” I ask to confirm.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, thanks Faith” he smiles, handing me my tips. 

“Okay” I nod, turning to look at Rio. I follow him out to his car. It’s a Benz truck and I’m surprised when he gets my door. I hop in and wait for him to start it up before setting the GPS.

“Why didn’t you tell your sister you work here?” He pries.

“Then she’ll tell my mom and my mom will ask why she paid for college for me to serve drinks” I tell him honestly.

“But your sister’s into me,” he smiles.

“Yeah, but you’d hurt her, and I’m crazy. If Diego tip-toes around you it’ll end badly for all of us if you make my sister cry.” I warn.

“Well then we should be alright” he mutters.

“Don’t lie and promise you won’t hurt her feelings” I tell him and he chuckles.

“Do you one better, she’s not the sister I’m into” he smirks.

“Lucky me” I smile.

“At least you’re smiling” he says while driving.

“That was smooth, the kind of thing I’d say” I admit and now he smiles.

“That’s how you got ole boy who was tweaking at the club?” Rio asks keeping his eyes on the road.

“You scared him by the way” I told him.

“If he isn’t willing to fight or take a couple hits for his girl you’re better without him” Rio says and it’s funny we’re on the same page.

“He’s a lover not a fighter, good man” I add.

“Good men don’t grab women when they’re trying to get away,” he says and I scoff. “And women don’t try to get away from me” he says before I can comment.

“I’ll hold you to it,” I respond.

“Never said I was a good man” he rasps, his honesty is refreshing. He is who he is and isn't running from it.

“Why were you such a jerk that first night?” I ask.

“I’m not good with strangers,” he admits.

“First lie” I comment and he looks surprised for a moment before looking amused.

“I don’t trust people I don’t know or like them.” he elaborates.

“Truth” I accept.

“So, how do I get to spend more time with you?”

“You don’t. My moms married to Merrick Chase” I tell him and I know the mayor's name rings bells. “He tries to play pops and digs into anyone Char or I see’s. I have reason to believe your personal life won’t pass the test.”

“Well, what’s another secret? I’m not asking you to go steady” he says and my brain must be broken because it is exciting and not off putting.

“You're bad news” I smile looking at him.

“And a good time while it lasts” He adds.

“So stop flirting and accept friendship. That’s how we spend time together "I tell him.

“I don’t need to flirt and I can still make you come before the year is over” he smiles and I do too.

“Keep dreaming” He stops at my place putting the car in park and hands me my bag of tips and some cherries. Somehow the gesture is sexual and when he smirks I know he feels it too.

Authors note: how are you moving forward. LMK in the comments. Don't forget to ❣ Like, ❝ Comment, ↺ Reblog

tags:

@wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @theegoddessofmelanin

@fictionalreads @roxytheimmortal @fairytale07 @rampsen @rosey1981 @lauraaan182 @lynaye1993 @g1g1l @writingsbytee @different-fandomz @rose-bliss

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[irondeficienttav]

The Taste of You: Chapter Three

The aftermath of their encounter has left a strange tension between Astarion and Myrkiira.

Chapter One is here.

Chapter Two is here.

Warning: blood and violence, but this is a vampire fic so you're probably expecting that, also some mentions of sensuality (but no smut this time)

As always, I'd appreciate any feedback on this story. I may put it on Ao3 soon, so stay tuned for that maybe.

Astarion didn’t need sleep, but even the shallow reprieve of his elven trance was broken—again and again—by visions of their tryst in the woods. He couldn’t shake the feeling of her quickened pulse beneath his lips, her warm breath against his shoulder, her wide eyes as she reached her peak, her blind trust in him as he ravaged her.

I’ve been known to be generous. Her words haunted him. A sacrificial lamb to his bloodlust.

Restless, he rose, pacing the length of his tent. His plan had been simple. Seduce her, earn her trust, secure his place at her side. And in a way, he had succeeded. He had gained Myrkiira’s trust, her protection, and perhaps even her affection. She had offered herself to him—her body, her blood. He had taken both. He mindlessly grazed a finger against his lips, remembering the taste.

The pit in his stomach coiled tighter with every passing thought.

He could have killed her. The realization made his throat dry. He pictured her now, pale and weak, barely able to stand after what he had taken from her.

He had bedded thousands, but this felt different. Lust had always been a tool, a means to an end. But last night, he had been reckless, ravenous, desperate in a way he didn’t understand. He had taken more than he should have, let himself drown in the pleasure of it, let the hunger consume him.

Surely, she would keep her distance now. He had ruined whatever goodwill he had managed to build, whatever fragile thing that had begun to form between them.

Dawn arrived before he could gather his thoughts. The first light of morning stretched over camp, too bright, too unforgiving. He stepped out of his tent, still adjusting to the strange sensation of sunlight against his skin.

Myrkiira was nowhere in sight.

Of course she wasn’t.

His fingers twitched at his sides. He thought about going to her—just to see if she was well, just to confirm that he hadn’t— but no. That would be foolish. He turned, ready to retreat back into the safety of his tent when—

"Hey, soldier!"

Her voice rang clear across the camp.

He turned, quickly fixing his expression into something charming, something easy. His best smile, as if he weren’t unravelling inside.

"Good morning, darling."

She stood a few paces away, looking him over with a bemused expression, noticing a single drop of dried blood on his collar. "Care for some coffee?" She paused, head tilting slightly. "You look like you need it. I didn’t realize vampires could get tired."

He let out a soft chuckle, shifting his weight onto one leg. "Vampires can do plenty of things, my dear."

He hesitated, tension in his words. “Have you seen Myrkiira yet?”

Karlach’s grin was immediate. “No, but I’d have thought you had. You two looked very close last night.” She tilted her head, playful and prying. “Something happen?”

His jaw tensed before he forced a laugh, light, dismissive. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Sure you don’t.” Her smirk lingered, but her voice softened. “Well, whatever you two are up to—kissing or otherwise—enjoy it, huh?” She exhaled, gaze flickering elsewhere. “I’d do anything to be able to touch someone like that.”

“It’s…” He hesitated, rolling his shoulders. “Not always that simple, you know?”

Karlach scoffed. “Of course it is! She likes you, you like her. Why not enjoy it?”

His smile faltered, just for a moment, before he twirled his dagger between his fingers, “I’d best get ready for the day. Can’t have my hair looking anything less than perfect when we’re knee-deep in blood again.”

Without waiting for a reply, he slipped back into his tent, relieved—if only briefly—to have avoided Myrkiira.

But his moment of peace was short-lived. A flurry of footsteps outside, quick and heavy, shattered the quiet. Before he could react, the tent flap was thrown open.

Shadowheart stormed in, eyes blazing.

“Oh, what now?” He rolled his eyes, dragging out the words with theatrical exasperation.

“Don’t act so innocent.” She snapped, voice sharp enough to cut. “Myrkiira can hardly stand. What the hells were you thinking?”

“Well, clearly, I wasn’t,” he snapped, folding his arms. “But you can give it a rest. I won’t bite her anymore, alright?”

Shadowheart’s gaze was razor-sharp. “You won’t?”

He exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. “No,” he said, more tired than annoyed now. “I get it, okay? It was fun while it lasted, but believe it or not, I’d prefer it if she didn’t die.”

A long pause.

“Fine.”

“Fine,” he echoed, drawing out the word and waving a hand dismissively. “You can leave now.”

Shadowheart hesitated, eyes lingering on him as if she wanted to say more. But after a tense moment passed, she huffed and stormed out.

...

Myrkiira flushed as she fastened the last strap of her armour, the heat of shame creeping up her neck. Shadowheart had been less than pleased to find her this morning—pale, unsteady, barely able to stand. And it was her fault, her lust had clouded all rational thought.

A warmth curled low in her belly, arousal that bordered on ruinous, from the memory. Had it always felt that good? She couldn’t remember. Couldn’t compare. But before she had even had a chance to recover from their passions, he had disappeared. She recalled the last look he gave her, lust turned to fear in an instant. Regret.

Steeling herself, she stepped out into camp, eyes fixed anywhere but him. She needed to focus, to push past the lingering haze of the night before.

And yet, the moment she heard his voice—smooth, teasing, so unbearably Astarion—she knew.

Knew that if he so much as smiled at her she would bare her throat again like the fool she was.He wasn’t even talking to her. Gale was rambling about his latest literary obsession, and Astarion was teasing him mercilessly. Myrkiira forced herself to look away. Watch yourself, her mind warned.

…

Myrkiira, Wyll, Astarion, and Shadowheart pressed forward through the mountain pass, each lost in their own thoughts—the road ahead, the cursed tadpole, the weight of unspoken tensions. The silence between Myrkiira and Astarion hung heavy, noticed by all but addressed by none.

His eyes met hers—briefly, fleetingly—but she found no clarity there. Only a hunger laced with something bitter, something that felt like hate.

Then, a snarl shattered the quiet.

A gnoll lunged from the tall grass, teeth bared, saliva dripping from its maw. Myrkiira’s eyes flicked around—there were more. At least six.

Without hesitation, she shifted, her body contorting into the sleek form of a dire raven. Wings spread wide, she shot forward, talons outstretched, striking at the gnoll’s face—tearing, blinding, relentless.

Astarion melted into the shadows, slipping into a crouch behind a bush, arrow drawn and waiting. Wyll charged ahead, sword raised, meeting the onslaught head-on.

But Myrkiira pushed too far. She was ahead of the others now, lost in the rush of battle.

“Watch out!” Shadowheart’s warning came a second too late.

A second gnoll flanked her, claws raking through feathers and flesh. She tumbled from the sky, slamming into the dirt with a sharp crack, shifting back into her elven form as she hit the ground.

Astarion’s arrow flew in an instant, sinking deep into the gnoll’s skull before it could land another strike. But the damage was done.

Myrkiira coughed, blinking up at the sky, pain radiating through her ribs. She wasn’t finished yet.

She surged to her feet, fists crackling with energy. She shot a bolt of thunder from her palms, sending two gnolls sprawling backward. Wyll unleashed an Eldritch Blast into the charging gnoll behind her.

Spells flew from her hands—fire, ice, and light—until a gnoll’s claws sank deep into her chest, sending her crashing to the ground. The air left her lungs with a gasp.

Astarion’s fingers curled around his dagger, knuckles white as he lunged. His footsteps fell heavier than usual, his strike swift and merciless, blade slipping between the gnoll’s ribs with deadly ease.

The rest of the group fought fiercely, each blow and strike decisive, until the last gnoll fell to the dirt, its blood staining the earth.

Astarion stormed over, fury flashing in his eyes. “What in the hells were you thinking?” he demanded, his voice sharp, “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” 

The fire that had fueled her attacks had burned out, leaving only frailty in its wake. She lay crumpled on the ground, her breath shallow, blood spilling in dark rivulets across her chest. Astarion despised the way the sight made saliva pool at the back of his throat, the hunger curling tight in his stomach. But even more, he hated the sharp sting of something closer to concern.

Before Myrkiira could respond, Shadowheart’s voice rang out, cutting through the tension. “Rich, coming from you.” Frustration shrouded her eyes as she prepared a healing spell.

Myrkiira sighed, feeling the warmth of Shadowheart’s magic flow through her, the healing energy bringing her back from the brink. She winced but managed to stand, her chest still burning from the wound.

Wyll’s steady hand gripped her arm, his voice calm but firm. “What our friends mean to say is... be more careful next time. We alreaady know of your prowess in battle, but you’re not invincible.”

Myrkiira nodded slowly, feeling a strange comfort in Wyll’s kindness, his quiet understanding. “I think I’ll head back to camp for now,” she murmured, her body sore but grateful for the respite.

Wyll’s smile was warm, a small but genuine thing. “Let me join you. You’re in no condition to go back alone.”

Astarion’s jaw clenched at the exchange, his eyes narrowing. Of course, Prince Charming had to save the day. He watched as Wyll’s arm wrapped around her waist, steadying her as they walked. There was a familiarity between them that cut sharper than Astarion cared to admit, a quiet intimacy he had never witnessed before.

[luluthespectator]

Rough beginning

I finally finished the continuation of A New Era. It took time but I believe in “quality over quantity”. I’m tagging someone who wanted to see this @jay--o. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it.

After the celebration, when the aliens went back in their respective sectors, The Pillars stepped in the ship. The corridors were large enough to fit all three of them in the same line.

However, Scozar quickly slithered in front of the group, taking its lead while exploring. It didn’t bother the two others. Maena looked around the place, her eyes expertly scanning the ship, giving her all the information she needed.

The corridors were pristine, it had a white immaculate look. The look a ship has right after its construction. She would probably be one of the first pilots to fly it outside of the atmosphere.

The Primavix walked slowly behind them. They kept their hands together but didn’t seem to pay any attention to their surroundings. Perhaps, they were, but with only a sphere for a head, the others couldn’t tell their expression.

The Pillars were all quiet when they entered the pilot’s room. However, The Human started to smile and her expression brightened. She ran over to the pilot’s chair, ignoring the aggressive look Scozar gave her when she passed by him.

She let herself collapse on the chair, laughing to herself. She opened some holographic screens before feeling the ominous presence of a shadow above her. She didn’t need to look up from the holograms to know it was Scozar. She could feel vibrations in her whole body however the translation device on her ear told her exactly what was “said”:

-Who allowed you to do that?

Her brows furrowed. She opened her mouth but no sound came. She thought for a few seconds, looking through a few settings, before answering perplexed:

-Well, I’m going to be the pilot, so I kind of need to understand how the ship operates, to change some settings, just get used to it.

-Don’t you understand where you stand?

This question confused her even more. What did he mean by that? Did he want to know if she knew she was standing on a chair? Or did he want to ask where she stood in a hierarchy point of view?

-Where I stand?

Scozar half-closed his eyes, harbouring some kind of smug expression. He put his sun-themed spear in his other hand, closer to Maena. She could make out the details on it. 

Strange lines were carved in the orange metal holding a black blade. Some of those lines morphed into additional spikes near the already sharp blade. He seemed somewhat proud to brandish it. It reflected in his words.

-I was chosen to be your leader.

-I’ve never heard that. 

Upon hearing it, he glared at Maena. His eyes were almost closed but she could still feel his gaze. What was he feeling? He was either angry or looking down on her. Who was she kidding? Of course he was looking down on her. She continued, less confident than she wanted:

-I thought we were supposed to make decisions together.

-Don’t you know why they made me come here?

She stopped fiddling with the settings for a moment and thought about what she had learned about his species, tapping her nails on the desk.

-Well, from as far as I understand, they put you here to keep some kind of truce going.

-Indeed. Do you see the implication now?

She didn’t like where this was going. 

-The implication? By implication, you mean that if I bruise your ego, you’re going to bring your people to a war?

-Well, if it is easier for you to understand Human, it is indeed what could happen.

She stood up from her chair. Even then, she wasn’t taller than his shoulder. She turned her head towards The Primavix, perhaps they knew how to handle a situation like this.

She didn’t find anything comforting in the black sphere of their head. She saw only a distorted reflection of the room, her and Scozar being strange shapes in the background. She looked back at The Kerox, she needed to find a way to get out of this argument.

He was bluffing was he? Keroxes are known for strategy, it’s not very strategic to go to war for that. They would go down in history as a petty species. She put on her poker face and asked with too much disdain for something meant to be diplomatic.

-Isn’t that selfish?

-Do you want it to become true?

She crossed her arms and stared right in Scozar’s eyes. His pupils were that of a cat during the day. She gauged him. Was he bluffing? It was difficult to tell, the rest of his scaly body didn’t move. She sighed.

-No.

-Well.

For a moment, she was taken aback. She looked back at The Primavix. They just stood there, quiet, unmoving, a statue of a saint of some kind. They would give her no help from as far as she could tell. 

She looks up to the Kerox again. A feeling in her gut warned her that this was only the beginning of his intimidation attempts. She wanted to put a stop to it, but she didn’t know if he was kidding or not. This conversation left a bad taste in her mouth. It was safer to give him a win for the moment.

-So do I continue…or?

-No. We have the rest of the ship to look at.

-Right…

———

They walked across the corridors in a tense silence. They ended up in a large room. One side was filled with places to sit down, pillows, carpets, a few tables with chairs and large flat rocks. On the other side, metallic instruments were installed on a counter.

Scozar’s deep growls filled the room. He seemed rather suspicious of what was on the counter, passing his spear in his clawed hand closer to it.

-What are those instruments?

Maena answered without thinking:

-Cooking.

Scozar looked at her, eyes half-shut. This time, his indigo feathers on his spine rose up slightly. She wondered if she made a mistake. Just to be sure, she tried to make her expression as neutral as possible. The Kerox asked:

-What is that?

She didn’t understand what kind of problem she dumbly ran into. She turned her head to an unmoving Primavix. Why was she looking for support in them? She decided to repeat:

-Cooking. They’re used for cooking food. We put food in those and then we eat.

-You need all of that just to eat? Pathetic.

It wasn’t the first time she heard that question from an alien. She usually didn’t really mind. But Scozar’s condescending remark got under her skin. She let out under her breath:

-Bet you eat like an animal.

-What did you say?

-Nothing.

-That’s what I thought.

Her anger made her make yet another mistake. Deviating the conversation was the best strategy she could think of. She turned towards The Primavix and asked:

-Either way, what do you think? Does it look cosy to you?

-We have yet to settle on an answer, Human.

-Alri-

Scozar interrupted Maena with a more assertive roar:

-I claim the headlands.

Maena looked around looking for places above them. What was even a headland? She had trouble picturing a headland in her head. She imagined something more natural. Her gaze went to the only natural things in the room.

-You mean…the rocks?

-If it is easier for you to understand, yes.

-Sure.

Scozar’s back bent over, his straight posture was gone, like something in his spine had snapped. He was now arched, almost on four legs but not quite yet. He seemed to put all his weight on his sun-themed spear and two bottom legs. This time, a more satisfied and quiet grumble passed through the air.

-Humans do learn fast.

She was about to tell him that it wasn’t out of respect but because she wasn’t interested in sitting on rocks. For the wellbeing of the mission, she decided to keep her mouth shut.

Instead, she used this window of opportunity to ask:

-If it’s okay with everyone, we should check the reactor core. Just to see if it doesn’t have any defects.

At that demand, Scozar got back to his straight posture like nothing happened. His gaze pierced through Maena.

-Are you giving orders?

-There’s a reason I said “If it’s okay with everyone”.

-We will check it last.

She put her hands on her hip and looked Scozar right in the eyes. She sighed, between anger and defeat: 

-Thanks. I really appreciate it.

-You learn fast, but you should change your tone.

She was at two fingers to blurt out a sarcastic “Yes, your majesty.”. But again, she didn’t know how The Kerox would take it. She didn’t want to be stuck on having to say that for the rest of the mission.

She was also desperate to hear The Primavix talk more. She needed to have an idea of how much support she could get from them.

———

Scozar was adamant on exploring the darker corridors, Maena was definitely not and The Primavix just followed. She pestered at the idea of having places without any type of lights. 

Scozar’s eyes and teeth glowed, this made her even more paranoid. It was not what she wanted to see. At some point, she couldn’t see a thing and decided to retreat to the border between light and utter darkness. Scozar of course had to say something about it.

-I guess humans’ inability to see in the dark is getting in your way. What if I make you come with me either way?

-Then I’ll bump into things.

-I’d love to see it. Especially when you won’t be able to do the same.

That’s when The Primavix stepped between them, they took their time but now they moved. It was enough to get the two to pay attention to them.

-We believe it is unnecessary to bring The Human. Our goal and your goal is exploration. If The Human cannot explore, then it is useless.

Somehow, this made The Kerox think. He pondered, his eyes fixed on Maena. She hated the vision of just two floating eyes and teeth, pointed menacingly towards her. But she kept her expression neutral despite the goosebumps.

She tried to focus on how glad she was to have The Primavix by her side at that moment. She could probably count on them when it truly mattered. The Kerox finally hissed:

-Fine. She can stay there.

She didn’t want to be standing there doing nothing. Could she push her luck though? She could certainly try.

-Since we’re going on separate ways, I could check on the reactor co-

-No. When we’ll come back, you will be at the same spot. Unless, you truly want to come with us?

-Alright. I’ll stay right here. Dang!

She regretted not having taken a flashlight with her. She would have “accidentally” put it in The Kerox’s face. For a lack of better things to do, she sat down, covered herself with her coat like a blanket, and wrote down a few things on her holographic notes.

———

After an agonisingly long time in the shadows, Scozar and The Primavix came back from the depths of darkness. She heard them before she saw Scozar’s terrifyingly ugly glowing features. There was, of course, the stomping of feet but it was accompanied by a faint ticking sound.

When she saw Scozar’s face rising up at the end of the corridor, she decided it was wiser to keep a flashlight at all times in the future. She got up and focused instead on the strange sound. That’s when Scozar decided to growl:

-You are a very obedient human.

-I got bored out of my mind.

-This doesn’t mean we’ll see the reactor core faster.

-That’s good to know I suppose.

Scozar passed by her, shooting her a smug stare. She crossed her arms and walked behind him. She listened to her surroundings. It seemed like the sound was either coming from the dark corridors or it was drowned by her feet on the metal.

They discovered almost everything in the ship. Scozar was particularly careful to not accidentally step in the reactor room. It was as if he could tell where it was. He also took his sweet sweet time exploring every single corner and spot.

Eventually, Scozar had to step into the last room. When they got in, Maena could already hear the buzzing sound emanating from the reactor core. She got closer, kneeling beside a large immaculate metallic box.

She listened closer to the variations of sounds. It was how she learnt to determine whether a reactor core was powerful or defective. This one made waves of sounds, like some kind of soothing crackling water. It was regular and intense.

She was amazed by the quality of the sound. It meant it had a lot of power and could potentially make them travel space faster and for a longer period of time too. It could perhaps bend space better, perhaps it could even be less painful if something bad happens during one of those “space folding”.

She passed her hand on the smooth metal. It was definitely not human-made. The exterior wasn’t what mattered though. She had no difficulties taking it away, revealing a complex network of blue phosphorescent cables keeping gems together.

She could see three layers of those intricate circuits. She hoped to never have to repair the last layer, she already predicted it would be a pain in whatever didn’t see the light often.

The interior rang with a crystalline sound, reminiscent of a heartbeat. She put the box back on top of it. She tapped it with her index, looking back at the other Pillars. 

-This is one of the best reactors I have ever seen in my life.

At that, The Primavix said nothing and didn’t move. However, Scozar raised his head high, like he was proud. However, he quickly took that opportunity to look at her from up high and growl:

-You better keep it that way.

-Well, it should stay that way on its own. If it breaks down without any provocation then it’s not a good reactor. But I don’t think it’s going to happen any time soon.

She rose on her feet and readjusted her coat on her shoulders. She walked towards the exit. This time, from the corner of her eyes, she noticed Scozar’s cold glare as she passed by him. She acted like she didn’t acknowledge him.

-Either way, I’m done here.

She could tell he was unsatisfied. People like him had a tendency to drive her crazy. The nerves to think he is entitled to everything made her blood boil. She knew it wasn’t diplomatic at all. She knew she was asking for it at that point but before exiting the room, she turned towards The Kerox and taunted:

-See? Did it take that much of your time?

-This is not how you are getting me to cooperate next time. Your strategy is flawed.

He was so right. But she wouldn’t admit it out loud. She didn’t really think about it, she just wanted to match his level of pettiness.

-Well, answer me. Did it take that much time for me to check the reactor core?

-You shouldn’t give me orders. Must I remind you of what I could do?

This would have stopped her but she had gone too far now. She decided it was bluff and kept going.

-Answering a question with another question? Is that all you’re going to do? Or can’t you admit that it didn’t take much of your time?

His indigo feathers on his spine rose to their full length. His stare pierced her, this time, it felt like daggers.

-You were about to get out of my sight, which would have been appreciated. 

He slithered towards her, slowly but surely, menacingly. His powerful muscles rolled under his scales. The bottom of his spears accompanied his motion, the tapping echoed like a clock of doom.

-But you decided to stay and mock me.

Why did she do that? What in the world was she thinking? She was paralysed with a hand on the door frame. She stared at him, not out of bravery, but out of utter terror. She just couldn’t look away as he approached dangerously close.

She was reminded that there were other apex predators amongst the other species of the galaxy, there were other death-worlders. She remembered that the death-worlder standing in front of her fought in a war and lived. In fact, at that moment, she was reminded of her own mortality.

If she wasn’t going to die from the claws of The Kerox she was certainly going to die from a heart attack. Her heart was pounding for its life. Each of its beats effectively beat the inside of her chest. Sweat was dripping from everywhere. 

That’s when The Primavix stepped in front of her, like a saviour. They made a physical barrier between her and Scozar. They actually stood up to The Kerox, they faced him. Their calming voice filled her translator:

-We believe there is no need for aggression. The night was long and our thoughts and yours are divergent and clouded by exhaustion. We and you mustn’t forget that we and you are the new era’s beacon. The failure of this mission would be a shame for everyone.

Maena finally figured out what The Primavix was: they were the voice of reason. She watched in awe as The Kerox stopped in his tracks and pondered like he did before. She let out a sigh of relief. She was suddenly light-headed. She declared on a more casual tone than she thought she could muster:

-Yeah, I agree. I’m going outside for…fresh air.

She promptly left the room and went outside as fast as she could. She was going to die from her own stupidity someday. This whole “New Era” thing was dumb. They were going to kill each other before anything meaningful would be made.

Back to masterlist

Back to A New Era

[vaguely-concerned]

lucanis is a 'I could sit in our quiet kitchen on a grey tuesday afternoon drinking coffee and talking with you about nothing much in particular forever and be the happiest man who ever lived' romantic, not a 'classic tropes and grand gestures' romantic. this is a distinction and conceptual gap I personally feel is crucial to understanding what's going on with him when romanced. for all his almost painful sincerity and clear depth of feeling he's not a very effusive guy by nature, but in the history of time no one has ever, with their whole soul, chest and being, been so genuinely and openly happy to just do laundry and taxes with you.

[seumyo]

when you don’t say “i love you” back to bakugou.

Bakugou says, “I love you,” every time he’s about to leave the house without you. It’s something that he got from his father, and to put it simply, he got influenced.

He’s about to finish putting on his hero gear. His gauntlets were already in place, his boots laced, and his mask pushing his hair away from his face—kind of like how he wore it during high school whenever it wasn’t necessary to wear it properly.

And there you were, sitting cross-legged on the floor without a care in the world.

Books were scattered around you in piles, organized by some system only you seemed to understand. You were focused as you murmured to yourself quietly, comparing sizes, genres, and authors, completely absorbed in your task of organizing the living room’s bookshelf.

“I’m heading out.”

“Mmhm,” you replied absentmindedly, holding up two books and tilting your head as if the slight angle would help you decide which belonged on the top shelf.

Bakugou frowned, his brow twitching. “Oi, did you hear me?”

“Yes, yes,” you said, still not looking at him. “Be careful, Katsuki.”

He let out a huff, running a hand through his hair. He was used to you getting lost in your little projects, but this felt different (were you playing a prank on him?). He stepped closer, crouching down beside you to meet your eye level. “Don’t overwork yourself while I’m gone,” he said, softer this time.

“I won’t.”

Still not looking at him. Unbelievable.

To Bakugou, it felt like being thrown through a building and back—and he wasn’t even exaggerating because it actually happened to him once! And he could definitely conclude that the feeling’s similar when you’re ignoring (not paying that much attention to) him.

Bakugou watched you for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing slightly before he sighed. “I love you,” he murmured, his tone quieter.

“Uh-huh. Have a good day at work.”

Just as Bakugou was about to stand back up, he blinked, the words sinking in slowly. His brow furrowed as the realization hit him—he’s so confused.

You didn’t say it back.

“What the hell?” he muttered, more to himself than to you—because you didn’t even hear him.

He huffed, taking the book you were inspecting as he let your hands fall on his arms instead.

“Hey.”

“Hm?” you glanced at him, your expression innocent as if nothing unusual had happened.

“You didn’t say it back,” he said, his tone sharp, though there was a hint of disbelief beneath the irritation.

The audacity you had. After almost always saying “I love you” to him to the point where Bakugou realized he couldn’t go on his day without hearing it, you decide to not say it now?

What’s next? You’re going to tell him you want a divorce? He’s overreacting, he thinks.

“Say what back?”

He clenched his jaw, his cheeks flushing faintly. “I said I love you, dumbass.”

Realization dawned on your face, followed by a sheepish smile. That smile—the one that managed to win him over—it’s so infectious it might as well be a cause of an epidemic.

“Oh! Katsuki, I’m sorry. I was distracted.”

“Tch,” he muttered, looking away from you. “Yeah, I noticed.”

You leaned closer to where he was crouching, squeezing his forearm softly, your touch light and apologetic. “You know I love you too, right?”

He side-eyed you, his scowl deepening, though it was clear his annoyance was fading.

“Doesn’t count if I gotta remind you,” Bakugou grumbled—almost pouting.

Your laughter bubbled out, so familiar that Bakugou was reminded where his home is, as you then held his face gently—then squishing his cheeks so that his lips are puckered. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice warm and teasing. “I’ll make sure to say it next time, promise.”

“Better keep thath promish,” he muffled out.

“I will,” you assured him, loosening your hold as you gave him a soft kiss on the lips. Strawberry-flavored chapstick, one of Bakugou’s favorites whenever you kiss him.

“I love you, Katsuki.”

He tried to maintain his frown, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward as you kissed him once more. “You better.”

“Now go save the day, my hero.”

With a sigh, Bakugou leaned away from you, his posture reluctant to even leave you. He made his way to the door, pausing to glance over his shoulder one last time. You were looking at him, blowing him lots of kisses with the emphasized “mwah!”

“Don’t get so caught up in your books that you forget I exist,” he tells you.

You smiled, nodding along. “Never.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too! Text me when you get to your agency; love you lots!” That’s better.

As he closed the door behind him, Bakugou shook his head, muttering to himself, “Ignored for some damn books. Unbelievable.”

Still, despite his grumbling, the faint smile on his face said he wasn’t really mad.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can’t stop thinking the tall horror men of homicipher. I’m like 5ft something, so I know damn well these men tower over me…am I discovering something? Maybe 👀👀👀but I know I ain’t alone. TRUE STORY: Also there was this guy that came into my place of work moths ago with his family and he was TALL, bending down to get through the doorframe TALL but he was lovely.

So how do I imagine these boy would react if they see that you’re clearly ogling them for how tall they were.

Mr crawling

Given the fact that you’ve only seen him stand once, it was enough to have your jaw dropping to the floor. He was taller than the fucking doorway that he had to manoeuvre himself under it, and suddenly you’ve forgotten that you were being kidnapped by Mr Stitch, too intrigued by his height and now understanding why he had lied to you about his ability to stand.

He thought he would scare you but in fact made you feel the complete opposite, you loved how tall he was and you couldn’t get it out of your head, even when he’s back on his hands and knees to comfort you. The illusion had worn off and now you wanted to see him tall all the time, but you didn’t want to pressure him into doing so unless he felt comfortable.

‘You’re tall, really tall.’ You said in awe as Mr crawling coddled you against his chest.

‘Scared?’ He asked as though he was fearing your answer, which broke your heart as you nuzzled your face against his shoulder in an attempt of comfort.

‘No, handsome.’ You replied as Mr Crawling made chirps and purrs of happiness as he held you closer to him.

While he’s still not fond on standing to his full height, the fear of his intimating stature would chase you away one day embedded in his heavily, he would find some comfort in knowing that you loved his tall stature and love you even more for not forcing him to do something he clearly was uncomfortable with; preferring to shower him in kisses and remind him that whether he’s standing or on his hands and knees you loved him regardless.

Mr silvair

The man can feel your eyes on his back constantly. He knows he’s taller than most but the way you looked and admired his full height like you wouldn’t be able to anymore.

He wonders whether this was something only you seemed to have or whether other humans also felt possessed by the need to gawk at people above a certain height. Or was it just you that has this particular expression upon seeing his tall stature in general.

He would take notes of how his height seemingly did something to you that then triggered a chemical reaction within your brain to make you find his height appealing and possibly a requirement in finding your perfect romantic partner.

Or more specifically people of similar height to Mr Silvair himself or anyone close enough to his height to qualify. Mr Silvair soon deduced that you liked the domineering presence of someone much bigger than you, someone who’s able to drag you wherever as though you were nothing but weightless to them, almost like a ragdoll.

He’d soon find that this is in most cases considered a kink amongst you humans who found the height difference between partner rather erotic.

Mr Scarletella

Finds your content ogling of him flattering and thinks that it means that you were finally, finally reciprocating his obsession with you for your own obsession with him.

He’s another one who takes note of how you like how tall he is in comparison to you, always looking at him whenever he was entering the room, eyes widening when you see him having to bed down to get through the doorway, and your eyes never leave him even as he’s walking towards you; seemingly getting taller with each step until he’s in front of you and you’re looking at him in awe and hitched breath.

He’s obsessed with your expression each and every time and uses his height to his advantage. Such as doing things like putting his hand above your head and on the wall, looking down at you with those obsessive eyes of his as his smile seemed to widen upon hearing your breath hitch and eyes widen once more.

His height continued to elicit a reaction out of you that Mr Scarletella loved and adored and wanted to see more of in the future.

Mr Hood

Finds your constant ogling of his height interesting.

He didn’t know why you were so surprised he’s this tall, he’s been with you this entire time and it was only recently did your mind seemed to inform you of your Incredibly stark height difference, and bam! Suddenly he’s the subject of your constant staring and ogling as though it would be the last thing you did.

It was humorous to say the least and will earn you some head pats and cheek caresses that has you leaning towards his comforting and gentle touches.

It wasn’t something that you hide from him as half of the time you didn’t realise you were doing it until Mr Hood pointed it out with curiosity, meanwhile your left flustered as your mind held certain thoughts towards his legs, thighs and large hands.

Poor Mr Hood, he understood to some extent but after a certain point it’s better to explain to him that you find his height rather appealing to you in more ways than one.

[rmview]

saying they want to break up during a fight, SKZ.

featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — a reaction of what happens when the stray kids boys impulsively say they want to break up during a fight!

contents — angst, fighting, some tears, reconciliation.

bang ☆ chan

fights with bang chan weren’t common, but when they happened, they hit hard. his naturally calm and rational demeanor made it rare for him to lose his temper, but tonight was different. the stress of balancing his responsibilities, combined with your ongoing disagreement, pushed him to the edge.

“you always think i’m not doing enough!” he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of frustration. “i’m doing everything i can, and it’s still not enough for you!”

“that’s not what i said, chan,” you retorted, equally exasperated. “i just need you to make time for us — just once without your work taking over.”

his jaw tightened as he ran a hand through his hair, his usual composure unraveling. “maybe we’re not right for each other,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “maybe we should just… break up.”

the silence that followed was deafening. bangchan’s eyes widened, and his expression immediately softened as he realized what he’d just said. “wait — no. that’s not what i meant,” he stammered, his voice trembling.

you took a shaky breath, stepping back. “you said it, chan. if that’s how you feel…”

“no, please,” he interrupted, his voice pleading. he reached for your hand, but you pulled away. “i didn’t mean it. i swear, i didn’t mean it. i’m just… i’m tired and overwhelmed, but that’s not an excuse. please, don’t leave.”

tears welled up in his eyes as he stepped closer, desperate to fix what he’d just shattered. “you’re the most important thing in my life,” he said, his voice breaking. “i’ll do better. i’ll make time — i promise. just… don’t walk away.”

felix ☆

felix hated confrontation. he was always the one to diffuse tension, his warm smiles and soothing words calming any storm. but tonight, the argument spiraled beyond his control.

“why do you always think the worst of me?” he asked, his usually soft voice laced with hurt. “i’m trying my best, but it’s like you don’t trust me.”

“it’s not about trust, felix,” you shot back, your voice rising. “it’s about feeling like i’m not a priority!”

his frustration bubbled over, and before he could think, he blurted out, “maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore. maybe we should just break up.”

the words hung in the air like a punch to the gut. felix’s freckles seemed to pale as the weight of what he’d said hit him. “no, wait,” he said quickly, his voice trembling. “i didn’t mean that. i didn’t mean that at all.”

you stood frozen, your heart aching. “how could you say that, felix?”

tears brimmed in his eyes as he stepped closer, his hands shaking. “i’m sorry,” he whispered. “i was angry, and i wasn’t thinking. you mean everything to me, and the thought of losing you —” his voice cracked. “please, don’t leave. i’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

lee ☆ know

lee know was known for his sharp tongue, but he rarely let his emotions get the best of him. tonight was an exception.

“you never understand my side!” he snapped, his voice colder than usual. “you always make it about you.”

“that’s not fair, minho,” you replied, your voice quivering. “i just want us to communicate better.”

“maybe we shouldn’t communicate at all,” he shot back, the words cutting like a blade. “maybe we should just end this.”

the moment the words left his mouth, regret washed over him. his face fell, and his usually stoic demeanor cracked. “wait,” he said softly, his voice laced with panic. “that’s not what i meant.”

you stared at him, hurt evident in your eyes. “minho…”

“i was angry,” he admitted, his tone desperate. “i didn’t think before i spoke. i don’t want this to end. i don’t want to lose you.”

he reached out tentatively, his eyes searching yours. “i’m sorry,” he murmured. “i know i hurt you, but please give me a chance to fix this. i’ll prove to you that you mean more to me than my pride ever could.”

hyun ☆ jin

hyunjin’s emotions always ran high, and tonight, they overwhelmed him completely.

“you don’t understand what it’s like to be me!” he yelled, tears streaming down his face. “i’m constantly trying to be perfect, and it’s never enough — not for you, not for anyone!”

“i never said you had to be perfect, hyunjin,” you replied, your voice trembling. “i just want you to let me in!”

“maybe it’s better if we’re not together,” he snapped, his voice breaking. “maybe i can’t give you what you need.”

the silence that followed was suffocating. hyunjin’s chest heaved as he realized what he’d just said. “no,” he whispered, shaking his head. “that’s not true. i didn’t mean that.”

tears welled in your eyes as you took a step back. “hyunjin, you can’t just say things like that.”

“i know,” he said, his voice cracking as he stepped closer. “i’m sorry. i was scared and angry, but i don’t want to lose you. you’re the one thing that makes me feel like i’m enough.”

hyunjin fell to his knees, his hands trembling as he clutched yours. “please don’t go,” he begged, tears streaming down his face. “i’ll do whatever it takes to fix this. just… don’t leave me.”

i.n ☆

jeongin wasn’t someone who fought often, but when he did, it was because something had truly gotten under his skin. tonight was one of those nights. the argument had started small, but it escalated quickly.

“you’re always treating me like i’m a kid,” jeongin snapped, his voice louder than usual. “like i don’t know what i’m doing or how i feel.”

“that’s not what i’m doing,” you countered, frustration evident in your tone. “i just worry about you, jeongin. is that so bad?”

“well, maybe i don’t need you to worry about me!” he shouted back. then, in a moment of blind frustration, he added, “maybe we shouldn’t even be together if you don’t trust me to take care of myself.”

as soon as the words left his mouth, regret hit him like a wave. his eyes widened, and he looked at you as if he wanted to take it all back. “wait, no,” he stammered, his voice softer now. “i didn’t mean that. i… i don’t want that.”

your expression faltered, hurt flashing across your face. “jeongin…”

he stepped closer, his hands trembling as he reached for yours. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “i didn’t mean it. i was angry, and i said something stupid. please don’t take it seriously. you mean so much to me, and i can’t lose you.”

tears welled up in his eyes as he looked at you, desperate to fix the mess he’d created. “i’ll do better,” he promised, his voice barely above a whisper. “just don’t leave.”

han ☆

han’s emotions always bubbled just beneath the surface, and when he was upset, it showed in every word and expression. tonight, his frustration boiled over in a way he hadn’t intended.

“you don’t get it!” he yelled, pacing back and forth. “you don’t understand what it’s like to feel like you’re never enough!”

“jisung, i’m just trying to talk to you,” you said, your voice shaky. “why are you shutting me out?”

“because i don’t know how to talk about this!” he shouted back, his voice cracking. “maybe… maybe it’d be better if we weren’t together. maybe then you wouldn’t have to deal with me.”

the second the words left his mouth, he froze. his hands dropped to his sides, and he looked at you with wide, tear-filled eyes. “no,” he whispered, shaking his head. “that’s not what i meant. i didn’t mean that at all.”

you stared at him, hurt and disbelief written all over your face. “how can you say that, jisung?”

he stepped closer, his voice trembling. “i’m sorry,” he said, tears streaming down his cheeks. “i was scared, and i let my fear get the best of me. i don’t want to lose you. you’re the only person who makes me feel like i’m enough, even when i don’t believe it myself.”

seung ☆ min

seungmin was usually calm and level-headed, but even he had his limits. tonight, the argument had pushed him to a place he rarely went.

“why do you always think i’m the bad guy?” he snapped, his voice sharp. “i’m doing my best, but it’s never enough for you.”

“that’s not fair, seungmin,” you replied, your tone frustrated. “i just want us to communicate better.”

“maybe we shouldn’t communicate at all,” he said coldly. “maybe we should just end this.”

the second the words left his mouth, his heart sank. he saw the look of hurt on your face, and regret washed over him. “wait,” he said quickly, his voice softer now. “i didn’t mean that.”

you took a shaky breath, stepping back. “seungmin, you can’t just say things like that.”

he nodded, his expression filled with guilt. “i know. i’m sorry,” he said, his voice trembling. “i was angry, and i wasn’t thinking. please don’t take it seriously. i don’t want this to end. you’re… everything to me.”

chang ☆ bin

changbin’s temper was quick, but so was his regret. tonight, his frustration boiled over in a way he couldn’t control.

“why do you always have to push me?” he snapped, his voice rising. “can’t you just let me be for once?”

“i’m not pushing you, changbin,” you replied, hurt evident in your tone. “i just want to talk about what’s bothering you.”

“maybe we shouldn’t talk at all,” he shot back, his voice colder than usual. “maybe we should just end this.”

as soon as the words left his mouth, regret hit him like a truck. he froze, his eyes wide with realization. “wait,” he said quickly, his voice shaking. “no, i didn’t mean that.”

you stared at him, tears welling in your eyes. “how could you say that, changbin?”

“i’m sorry,” he said, stepping closer. his voice was softer now, filled with guilt. “i didn’t mean it. i was angry, and i wasn’t thinking. please don’t walk away. you mean everything to me, and i’ll do whatever it takes to fix this.”

notes: i don’t like redoing the same prompt, but angst is fun, so enjoy!

[moonstruckme]

hello! im not sure if you've done this before and if you have, i hope its ok to ask for more hehe but can i request rockstar poly marauders w a shy!reader and gets easily flustered when they show affection? thank u sm i really love all your poly marauders drabbles!!

Thank you for requesting angel <33

rockstar!marauders x shy!reader ♡ 1k words

The sound tech at this venue is nice. You liked her first for her pink hair and then for the easy way she motioned you over to help do the boys’ sound checks. You don’t think she needed the help; she only saw you standing off by herself and did a kind thing to make you feel less awkward. 

Now the boys are off in their dressing room, and you’re trailing contentedly behind her while she shows you how she sets up for shows. 

The bustle and ruckus of crews setting up before shows isn’t new to you. You’ve been with the boys since the beginning of their tour, but usually you stay out of the way, blending into walls or taking refuge in your boyfriends’ dressing room while they’re busy. You’ve never really gotten to know the actions the bustle and ruckus constitute. 

“Usually I help with lighting once I’m done with my own stuff,” the sound tech tells you. “It’s all programmed ahead of time, so really I’m just on standby in case something happens. Do the boys have a favorite color if I have to pick something?” 

You gnaw your lip, contemplative. “Sirius would probably like yellow, if you get the chance.” 

Her eyebrows shoot up. You know it’s not in the usual color palette of the boys’ shows. “Really?” 

“No.” You suck in a breath as a pair of arms wraps around your middle, releasing it when you realize it’s Sirius. “Not really. Minx, you know I hate yellow.” He smushes his face into your cheek. “Joke’s on you though, I look good in every color.” 

“Yellow certainly least,” James teases. He steps into your field of vision wearing his concert outfit. Jeans and a tight t-shirt just short enough to tease a sliver of abdomen. Of all the fans who will get to see him looking so handsome tonight, you’re glad you’re one of them. 

“Anyway,” he says, grinning, “we have a very important question for you both. No pressure.” 

“Well, some pressure,” Sirius says. 

You look at your sound tech friend. Like most crew, she’s largely unaffected by the rockstars currently sharing in casual repartee in front of her. Her eyes don’t appear to dip to James’ stomach or trace the myriad of tattoos you know are showing through Sirius’ sheer top. If anything, she looks only faintly amused by the way the band’s lead singer is mushing tiny, soft kisses into the skin by your ear. Your cheeks warm. 

“What’s the question?” you ask, dreading the reply. 

Sirius turns you in his arms, taking you by the shoulders and levelling you with a very serious look. “What is the hottest instrument for someone to play?” 

Your sound tech friend barks a laugh. “Bass,” she says. “No question.” 

James’ eyebrows fly up, his expression one of utter disbelief, but Sirius only says swiftly, “Wrong. You know what it is, don’t you, gorgeous?” 

Your shoulders gravitate upwards at the moniker. “You can’t ask me to pick between you.” 

“Don’t think of it as picking between us,” he says. “Just, which is the hottest? Objectively.” 

“I can’t be objective,” you plead. 

“Does anyone know what time it is? I can’t seem to find a clock in this whole place.” You turn your head as Remus emerges from their dressing room, blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth. “Oh.” He blinks when he sees you, waving to dispel the smog. “Sorry, dovey. Where’ve you been?” 

“I’ve been here,” you say, voice softening. Sirius makes a quiet sound and hugs you again. 

“You’re cute,” he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear. Your face flames. 

“It’s quarter ‘til,” the sound tech offers helpfully. 

Remus turns to her with a smile he’ll never understand the power of. “Thank you.” 

“We’re conducting a poll on which instrument is the hottest,” James informs him. He jerks his thumb toward the sound tech. “She says bass.” 

Remus’ grin turns smug. “Quite right. What’s your pick, dove?” 

You’re mute and melting, hot enough by now that you wish you could evaporate into steam and float away through the vents. 

“She won’t say,” Sirius sighs dramatically, breath warm against your cheek. 

“Oh.” Remus seems to wisen to your plight. “It’s not really playing fair, is it? She can hardly be objective.” 

“Right,” you agree quickly. 

“But angel,” says James, bewildered, “guitar is classic.” 

“I’ll tell you what’s not fair,” Sirius argues. “For anyone to say anything other than the front man! We’re chosen for our hotness!” 

“Well, that’s not strictly true, is it?” 

“Yeah?” Sirius has that shit-eating grin, like he’s winding James up in anticipation of hauling him into a broom closet. You’re only glad it’s not directed at you. “You got something to say, Potter?”

“Sorry,” Remus apologizes to your sound tech friend on their behalf, touching a hand to Sirius’ back to guide you both towards the dressing room. James follows. 

“You’re good,” she laughs. “Nice to meet you, y/n.” 

“You too,” you say, cringing at the unintentional softness of your own voice. 

“Who was that?” Sirius asks as James closes the door to their dressing room behind you. “Have you made a new friend?” 

You groan, flopping down onto the posh-looking, uncomfortable couch and covering your face with your hands. “I was trying to.” 

“It looked like it was going well,” James says. “Maybe you can hang out with her again while we’re onstage.” 

“I can’t now,” you mumble between your palms. 

“Why not?” 

“Because,” says Remus, as he sits beside your head and begins smoothing your baby hairs with his fingers, “we’ve embarrassed her.” You let your hands slip down enough to see him, and he smiles at you. “I don’t think she’ll hold it against you, dovey. She seemed nice.” 

“You would think so.” Sirius plucks the cigarette from between Remus’ fingers, taking a drag before it can burn out. “She picked your instrument.” 

Remus shrugs, smug again. “That helps.” 

Sirius squints at him spitefully. He sits next to your knees where they’re flung over the arm of the couch. “Don’t let us spoil your new friend for you,” he says, sincerely. “She loves you already, I can tell. You’re perfect.” 

“You’re biased,” you counter, face heating again. 

Sirius grins like he can tell and reaches down to tug you upwards. He grasps you with a roughness for which he has no follow through, kissing you sweetly with his fingers bunched in your jacket.

“Wrong,” he says, lips moving against yours. “I know how to be objective.”

[chxnsgirl]

방찬 ─── heavenly body

⋆｡ ˚༘ ♫ worship - ari abdul

♡ pairing ៸៸ idolbf!chan x fem!reader genre ៸៸ smut ៸៸ cw ៸៸ smut with basically no plot, slight sub!chan, as well as slight dom!reader, reader is pretty vocal, some dirty talk, handjob, blowjob turned face f!cking.. if i miss anything else lmk ♡ synopsis ៸៸ you decide to worship your boyfriend, chan, since he thinks so lowly of himself. ♡ taglist ៸៸ @ephorxa ♡ m.list

you watched as your boyfriend stepped out of the shower, steam rolling off his body and water droplets cascading down his chest. he always looked so good, but as your eyes wandered over every muscle, every inch of his skin, you couldn’t help but feel a pang run from your chest to your stomach. 

what upset you about this was that he never saw what you did–he was always too critical of himself. whether it be his looks or his talent. he was so mean to himself and you couldn’t understand why. 

you set your phone down on the bedside table and walked into your en-suite bathroom, then leaned in the doorway as he dried off his thighs and groin. he noticed you, and a small smile curved onto his pretty face. “hi.” he started to wrap the towel around his waist, but you gently grabbed his wrist and stopped him. “hi.” 

he let out a soft chuckle, looking down at you. “babe. i need to at least put on boxers before we watch the movie.” he grabbed your wrist with his own hand, about to pull it away. “wait.” you said softly, tugging him out of the bathroom and toward the bed. “what?” he asked you, stumbling forward. with a little shove, he sat on the edge of the bed, towel loosely draped on his lap, just barely covering  his manhood. you walked toward him, slowly. he leaned back, propping himself up on his hands as he watched you. 

“you look too good..” you finally spoke, straddling him on the bed. his breath hitched in his throat as he felt your lips pepper kisses on his jawline. “sh-shut up..” he said shyly, his ears turning dark red at your words and actions, which were quickly sending him into a submissive headspace. “i’ll never shut up about how perfect you are, baby.” you purr, raking your fingers through his damp curls. he let out a soft groan, looking up at you with half lidded eyes. you took the opportunity to kiss his irresistible lips, which tasted like mint, since he had just brushed his teeth not too long ago. you pressed yourself against him, cupping his face and deepening the kiss instantly. his hands moved from the bed behind him to your thighs, kneading the plump flesh. 

slowly, and teasingly, you pull away from the kiss with his bottom lip between your teeth, making him whine. “how ‘bout i show you how much i love your body?” you ask him, though it wasn’t much of a question. his expression softens at your words but he doesn’t stop you, especially not as your hands move from his face to his shoulders, pressing your fingertips into his trap muscles. he nodded eagerly before leaning his head back and groaning quietly as you kissed on the soft, sensitive skin on his neck. 

“mm.. you’re too good to me.” he managed to speak, looking up at you as you pulled away briefly. you grinned down at him, caressing his cheek gently. “you deserve it all.” you respond, slipping off his lap and kissing his neck once more, before traveling further south. his hands fell back behind him once again, keeping him propped up on the bed. a breathy moan escaped his lips as you littered kisses on his chest, then down each ab muscle. he watched you intently as you mapped out all your favorite parts of him.. stopping at your favorite favorite. his waist. you tugged the towel down ever so slightly, revealing more of his skin. so soft, so beautifully sculpted. he inhaled deeply, his muscles flexing as he watched you, showing off his vline. you looked from his bare skin up to meet his eyes as you leaned down and kissed his hip, gradually turning them into sloppy wet kisses. 

he sucked in a breath once he felt you tug the towel down all the way, revealing his semi-hard length. “baby, please..” he whined, looking down at you, his eyebrows tugging together. “please what?” you purred, your hands kneading his thighs now, slightly pushing them apart as you kneeled down fully. he bucked his hips up, unable to use his words from how flustered he was. you smiled, wrapping a hand around his length and kissing the skin on his pubic bone. “use your words, love.” you said, your breath fanning onto his skin as you stroked him slowly. 

“need you..” he trailed off, thrusting into your hand in an attempt to increase the friction. a soft hum of approval left your lips before you leaned forward, licking the bead of precum off his pink cockhead. an even louder whine left his lips and he fisted the bedding under him, his cock now rock hard from your teasing hands and mouth. “not good enough, channie..” you ask, maintaining the slow pace of your hand. 

“fuck–i don’t care.. please, just give me something..” he let out a pant, becoming impatient. you became impatient as well, needing to taste more of him. so, at his wishes, you leaned forward, spitting sloppily on his cock, lubricating him so you could stroke him faster. he let out a low groan of satisfaction, his eyes rolling back into his head. while pumping his shaft in your hand,  you leaned down and wrapped your lips around his angry, now red cockhead, earning more delicious moans from the man. 

he bit his lip, whimpering quietly as he thrusted up into your hand/mouth. you popped off his length only for a moment. “c’mon, baby, let me hear you,” you murmur against his length before bringing it back into your mouth, sucking on his tip and pressing your tongue to the underside. his thighs shake under your arms, and he lets out a loud, guttural growl through gritted teeth. the lewd noises from your expert mouth and the slickness under your hand is making him closer and closer every second. 

“you feel.. so good..” he was struggling to get the words out, but when he did, they were low, whiny, and rushed. your free hand wandered from his thigh to his stomach and waist, grazing your fingertips over his soft flesh. you could feel his muscles flexing as his body tensed from the pleasure you were giving him, and for some reason that turns you on so much more. “g-gonna.. cum..” he trailed off, thrusting into your hand and mouth, three times as desperately as before. 

his shaky hand rested on your head briefly before he gripped your hair, making you whine in pleasure now. he wanted to cum so bad, he was fucking your face at this point, your hand out of the picture as his throbbing, slobbery cock pistoned in and out of your wet mouth. 

after a game of tug-of-war, both of you teetering between dom/subspace, he finally snaps back into his usual role, triggered by watching you on your knees, whimpering, with your hands kneading his thighs as he fucked into your face. he let out a loud, guttural roar as he began to cum, holding your head still as his cock twitched in your mouth and coated your tongue with his release. 

after a moment, he released his grip on your hair, letting you pull yourself off him as you swallowed. however, you were still too caught up in wanting to worship this man, and too drunk on the taste of him to pull away right away. you lean forward again, licking any remnants of his release off his shaft and tip, digging your tongue into his slit. he let out a soft, shaky groan, watching you with half-lidded eyes as his chest still rose and fell rapidly from his orgasm. 

“mmm..” you hummed, finally popping off his cock wetly. he helped you up, placing the towel back over his lap. “thank you, baby..” he said softly, petting your hair, neatly combing it back into place since it was disheveled from his rough handling just moments ago. “you don't need to thank me…” you respond, running your hands over his shoulders soothingly. his expression softened and he leaned forward, placing a tender kiss to your lips before kneading your thighs again. 

“well.. now its my turn to return the favor.” he grinned against your lips, squeezing your ass and flipping you onto your back, making you giggle and squeal.

please do not copy my work. see pinned for guidelines and requests.

[justblades]

❝ THE GENERALS' COCKSLEEVE ! ❞

ᝰ. JIYAN x afab! reader x GESHU LIN

๋ᝰ. IN WHICH geshu lin tries to heal your hurt heart as you thought it was a one sided love with jiyan

ᝰ. SMUT, 18+ ONLY. double vaginal penetration, threesome, possessive! geshu lin, WC: 4.2k

a confidential expedition was sought in order to study the occurrences in the battle beneath the crescent. as there was no concrete evidence that recounts the whole of what transpired way back then, it was then decided the magistrate to take precautionary steps to delve deeper into the event.

as soon as the decision has been made, jiyan reaches out for you to talk in private. a secluded room freed from disturbances and lurking ears, a solemn look dances in his golden gaze. "the magistrate ordered for us to study the geographic location when the first retroact rain befell." he states as he shuffles the letter back to the envelope that he received from jinhsi.

a wax seal of ivory color engrained with the sentinel jué's design adorns the surface, jiyan's fingers trail the edges. you purse your lips tightly, reluctance slightly rising from your façade of composure. a tale as old as time, the jinzhou residents knew very well the story of the battle of the crescent.

what dawns in your perturbed mind was the former general behind it, the one deemed as the hero, the savior of all eventually leads the lives of the many to meaningless sacrifices. just the mere stories of those who witnessed general geshu's might would suffice to reinforce the thought on anyone that he was strong, mighty, that those onyx flames of his seared and tore through his countless enemies.

you're just as curious as the person next door. being jiyan's one of the few trusted rangers, you nodded, giving consent to the mission. the two of you will then embark on the journey once the sun rays peek through the bed of stars and the darkness.

it will pass . . . and so, the daybreak arises.

coming vis-à-vis with the general upon the agreed time to meet, the two of you swiftly weave through the vast forest, eliminating any possible tacet discord that might hinder your exploration progress with swift and haste. "we're nearing the norfall barrens now, be careful." jiyan reminds you as he treads forward, the broadblade hoisted at hand to prepare for any case of danger to come.

"yes, general." you reply as you manage to scan your surroundings carefully. as the ground beneath your feet starts to feel different the farther you walked and the olden structures welcome your vision with a faint light, the general looks back at you to confirm his observation. nodding in agreement, a sharp, gelid wind blows within, jiyan's teal locks ripple along the muted breeze.

"the magistrate ordered for us to not stay here for too long, as there's a possibility we might encounter larger waves of tacet discords." he pauses for a short while. "however, if we do not split up and make haste, we might lose the frequencies left behind the battle that might lead to  potential clues. given that we're both resonators, we're capable of diluting the echoes residing within the field."

he stops in his tracks, explaining the pros and cons of the decision to take. naturally, he's gearing towards the advice of jinhsi, as it is true that staying longer in this place will expose the two of you in greater danger. but a part of him doesn't want to split up from you, worrying he'll lose a trustworthy, competent figure in the midst of this expedition.

having known the general for quite some time, you've come to understand patches of his personality as if it were the back of your hand. you'd notice in the slightest change of his facial expressions, even more so in his tone lacing his words. no matter how miniscule the shift is, you'll always be able to know. "fret not, general. i assume you know me well as i know you." you simply state, flashing a small reassuring smile to subside the doubt gnawing at his bones.

jiyan nods slightly in exchange. "understood. i'll contact you via your terminal once i'm finished with exploring the half of the land and you'll do the same with yours. if you come into trouble, just ring me up, i'll come to your aid quickly." you reach for the gourd behind you, double checking if its functions are working in pristine condition.

after enough preparation, the two of you then separated ways with no goal other than to stay alive, rush to the aid of your companion in any hint of trouble and lastly, to pick up clues that draw back to the event. you make your way to the west of the norfall barrens, focusing on your senses to ensure that the exploration would go smoothly.

darkness envelops the whole land, dark embers of faded crimson continually drift from one place to another. among the lingering eerie noises resonating in the field, a distinct voice surfaces - "so it is you."

goosebumps ride on your skin as you prepare into stance and hoist your weapon, eyebrows furrowed as sobriety exudes from your body. when all of a sudden, a towering presence appears behind your back, and as you take a swift turn to face your supposedly opponent and strike them down in a single swing, black and indigo violet flames set the barren lands ablaze, kindling with the littlest movements from the broadblade the person does.

you take a step back, a suffocating heat engulfs everything, the oxygen left in your lungs thinning. struggling to catch your breath, you ball your fists and cough repetitively - the scale of this power is far too destructive.

"still holding out? impressive. no wonder he picked you."

once you finally manage to stabilize your breathing, you enhance your physical body with your forte, bracing impact once the person finally engages with you head on. within a blink of an eye, strands of long, grayish white hair comes to sight, and a pair of honey golden eyes lock gazes with yours.

he closes in with immense speed as the two of you exchange blows left and right. the male grits his teeth as the corner of his lips twitch upwards, "commend yourself for being able to withstand a fraction of my flames."

a gut feeling kicks in, that the danger you were watching out for - was finally settling. you instantly reach for the gourd as an attempt to reach jiyan on the other end, but no avail, the mysterious figure was faster than you. he approaches from above, swinging once more, clashing with your sword as his broadblade defeats yours. he successfully unarms you and manages to immobilize you with makeshift of bindings to keep you still. your back crashes flat on the dry land, a sharp pang of pain striking on your torso.

met with utter loss, he draws closer to you. he reaches his bandaged hand to your face, "could it be . . ." and your consciousness gradually fades away. "general geshu lin?"

rousing from a shortlived slumber, you jolt awake as your eyes peel open, your movements feel minimized. you examine the surroundings, and then yourself - a special restraint encages the both of your wrists together, seemingly one that is made of advanced technology especially catered to confine resonators. you knew from one look that it'd be useless to try and break free and you no longer bothered trying. instead, you opted for any possible methods to escape.

"general jiyan would not be able to come to your aid today, unfortunately." there it was again, the hoarse voice that resounds to your ears like a nightmare fuel. you flinch as you see him within your line of vision once more, confusion washes over yourself, at a loss for words in response to what he said.

"general, why?" was all you could verbalize amidst the worry pulling back your tongue. you bite your lip and could not help but think about jiyan, who put faith in your capabilities only for you to end up like this. "you're asking the wrong question." he says and kneels lower to your level, driving you to a corner as birch walls meet your back.

it was a small cabin from no one knows where that he resided in, necessary supplies and equipment arranged in a chronological manner displayed on the shelves. a dim light illuminated the vicinity, it flickers in opposition to geshu's strong gaze. "i know you have an unrequited love for the general - but you know as much as any midnight ranger that love is not a priority in jiyan's life."

his words struck like sharp lightning aiming to your heart, crushing it whole into smithereens of pain as your world flips upside down. questions come whirring in your mind, such as: why does he know? how does he know? what benefit does this fact bring to him?

unfortunately, his claim was true. being by the general's side for several years, you've seen him be vulnerable, reliable, and resolute regarding whatever trouble may come in his way. his bravery to withstand the lurking unknown sparked your faded flame inside your heart. jiyan became the beacon of light in your muddled world, as the two of you brave through the obstacles with joint forces, in every long night.

the sorrow he faced that you shared with him - it was halved. the joys he witnessed that you shared with him - it was doubled.

"come, be my companion instead. let us eliminate together the darkness at bay." geshu proposes and inches closer to you, his masculine features coming into full view. this time, you could see him better this time, only now noticing details you haven't before. a small mark adorns his face under his left eye and a diagonal scar carves his sultry lips.

he looks at you solemnly, you could feel the proximity between the two of you increase, until he finally presses his lips onto yours gently. shock courses in your veins - the general's tongue makes way inside your mouth, lapping your taste as it twirls with yours, performing a tantalizing rhythm to which mewls were elicited from the drowning pleasure.

you try to retort in opposition to his actions, but your protest was silenced as his right arm snakes its way up to your torso, tearing the fabric of your clothing with little effort. he nestles your nipple within the warm palm of his hand, his calloused fingertips fiddle on the very hard bud.

after making a concoction of your salivas mixed together, geshu breaks the kiss, leaving a trail that connects your lips to his.  "i-i can't abandon general jiyan from a petty reason. i did not uphold my duty all this time just so my feelings were to be reciprocated."

his aureate irises fixate on your features, "and you're loyal too. sorry, but i won't be as gentle as jiyan is to you." geshu crashes his lips on yours once more, this time, a burning carnal desire exudes from his aura, hands now exploring your body, removing the remaining worn out clothing as your tits spring free, nipples erect as glacial winds caress your skin. "so? have you two engaged in such an encounter before?" he manages to query in between heated kisses.

a muffled "no" reverberates and geshu immediately understands. a smirk creeps up to his face and pulls away, an idea slipping into his mind as he now buries his face in the crook of your neck. he asserts dominance as the general flicks his tongue all over the shell of your ear, proceeding to give the whole part slow, sloppy licks, as well as biting on the lobe to determine which you'd like more.

as if you were melting, you felt like putty in his touches as he continues to toy with your breasts. he savors your skin down to the sweet spot on your neck, putting pressure once he sucks on the part, leaving lust filled bruises. taking turns from licking, biting, and sucking, he finally gets his fill as his erection grows bigger and harder to restrain within.

a thought crosses your mind as his bulge brushes on your clothed region, maybe it isn't that bad, accepting general geshu lin's proposal, that is.

geshu shifts positions, he lays on his back as he makes you straddle his pelvis. "cat bit your tongue? i suppose i have to let your body do the talking from here on." heat rushes to your cheeks, embarrassment dawning as you, ironically, grind your lower region against his bulge, creating friction to ease the lust brewing in your lower stomach.

the confinements of the both of your clothing felt impeding to the satisfaction the both of you are chasing. no longer spending time to be rational, you let your emotions guide your next course of action - you strip down his black pants alongside his undergarment, revealing his girthy cock itching for action.

it was adorned by the most prominent blueish veins, it continually twitches, as well as very warm in contrariety to the chilly, tranquil atmosphere encompassing the two of you. you gather spit from the back of your cheeks, redirecting it past your lips, creating leeway for it to trickle down geshu's throbbing dick.

with heavy lidded eyes and blind guess if the accuracy was right, your drool drips down from the head of his cock down to the shaft, cloudy hues gracing it. you slowly wrap your hands around his length, carelessly curling your fingers as you stroke it up and down, starting slowly yet sloppily.

geshu's body tenses from the foreign sensation, his legs trembling and arms jerking. he shuts his eyes, indulging in the feeling as you continue pumping him, granting you low growls of pleasure from the male. meanwhile you remain straddling him, higher levels of libido rushing to your bloodstream as you pick up the pacing. "t-that's it—" geshu verbalizes with a faint voice.

he gets along with your momentum, thrusting his hips upwards in accordance to your rhythm. as he was nearing his release the faster it dragged on, he rises only to flip your frail body around, pinning you down against the floorboards. geshu's chest rises and falls continuously, panting heavily as he feels his release draw back, much to his wish. you've never felt so small and helpless before.

you could pick up every detail of his body language, yet heeded no mind for the embarrassment that was previously gushing in your system. your mind starts to feel dizzy yet carefree, as if like you've drifted far away from reality and only cared about nothing other than satiating your hunger for carnal desire. once geshu's breathing stabilizes, he presses your lips against yours again, relishing every drop of your saliva.

it was becoming messy, but still, the two of you continued like animals in heat. he bites on your lower lip and sucks on the part up to no end, granting him winces of pain mixed with pleasure altogether. a deep chuckle resounds, "quite daring for you to enjoy that."

"no matter, i'll proceed as i please now." he continues and sweeps aside your soaked panties, revealing a heavenly view for him to revel in - white liquids seep out of your slit, a certain pungent scent wafts into his nostrils. "your scent is everywhere." the general states as a matter of fact.

uncertain if that was to be taken in a positive connotation, he wraps his hand around his dick and slaps it against your folds lightly, tapping the very head on your clit. the littlest touches send you spiraling into bliss, a strong yearning growing within. "put it in." you whisper with a weak voice. geshu looks at you, surprised, even more so once you add, "please."

your melting expressions have long been engraved in his mind, as he guides his tip to your slit, the door of his cabin busts open, a strong force sends it flying to the other side of the wall. geshu lin lets out a hoarse laugh, "ah, look who's here!" almost as if he was rejoicing, he repositions the two of your bodies, now holding you up as you sat on his dick.

your sight becomes hazy from all the foreplay ensuing, weakening senses coming back as you saw the familiar hues of teal within your bleary vision. jiyan stands across from your lust-lost bodies, eyes enlarging into two full moons as shock was painted upon his masculine features.

he hoists up his broadblade once more, threatening geshu to let go of your naked body. "general jiyan, if you would not treat such a competent figure like her right, then let me do it in your stead . . . as i am confident that i can treat her better."

rivalry rose from the two males, "that is no way to treat someone." jiyan's words cut through the thick tension sharply, while geshu's brows knit. "you say that, but have you paid attention to the face she's making?" just as he finishes his question, he pushes your body against his cock, thrusting into your cunt with no forewarnings. the intrusion makes a lewd, sloppy noise, accompanied by your moan unintentionally slipping.

a surprising warmth expands through your insides, stretching your velvet walls apart as they mold around the shape of the general's cock. you throw your head back in immense pleasure as he fills you up, mind almost threatening to go blank. "if you want to take her back, prove that she'd want you to reclaim her away from my grasp."

"if not . . . i'm afraid this will be the last time you'll be able to set your eyes on her."

jiyan has always been a rational person, one of the many qualities that renounce him to be truly befitting a title of a general. yet, as he sees you get lost among the sea of pleasure geshu lin has been drowning you in, a sense of ache thrums his heart against his ribcage. with slow steps he took, he's now merely inches apart from you.

geshu continues to hold you up and still, while jiyan leaves a chaste kiss on your cheek first and foremost: a sight that the former general would rather not have seen at all, contributing to his annoyance. while you remained there, incapable of taking action as if you're merely just existing. with little mustered strength, you manage to wrap you arms around jiyan's neck as you loll him into a deep kiss.

a deep kiss capable of delivering human emotions through an intimate action, "general. . ." your voice was faint, yet he understood your intentions. he shuts his eyes and let his emotions take control, immediately fondling your exposed chest as the icy tips of his golden armor fiddle your perked up buds. a moan escapes, followed by even more as the light haired general thrusts in and out of you with great force, the tip of his dick kissing your very womb. "g-general!" you yelp in an attempt to cry for mercy, yet you were only met with more brazenness.

"now you sound like you're yearning for two inside your tight hole." geshu says, frustration lacing his tone as he clicks his tongue afterwards.

jiyan's breathing becomes staggered, letting himself loose as he licks your boobs with his wet tongue, poking its tip on your erect nipples. your body flinches, its sensitivity building up while you remain a moaning mess. even you, yourself lost track of which general you were pleading to for, all you want is to drift afloat into the euphoric seventh heaven, with no other worries in mind but having your thirst quenched.

"will it fit . . ?" he asks as he casts you a look of concern, eyes fixing particularly on your lips that have been stained by three salivas all in all. jiyan unbuckles the dyad belt adorning his waist, letting everything come undone while geshu continues to pump in and out of you, his strong hands grip the plush of your thighs rather tight.

you could hear his mewls from behind, yet your attention was taken by jiyan who's currently stroking himself at the view in front of him. he sheepishly watches you get your cunt pistoned by the former general, his aching erection protruding from the fine fabric of his boxers. " . . . put it in too, general."

the two of them, simultaneously, had their jaws fall agape in shock upon hearing such yearning words come out of your mouth. with a sense of responsibility burning within jiyan, he strips himself naked at this point in time - ready to heed your request. his hands glide all the way down to your inner thighs, his dominant hand's fingers brush back and forth on your dewed folds. he anchors his attention on your pussy alone, at how it flutters every time geshu's cock pounds you in and out.

his patience starts to wear thin, the same could be said for you. with watery eyes and melting expressions, you call for him once more. "please." you mumble, but was eventually silenced as geshu turns you to him and initiates an open mouthed kiss. the teal haired general ached twice as much for more pleasure as he finally spreads your lower lips open, making more space for his dick to go in.

the head of his cock kisses the outermost part of your walls yet you were already squirming. numbness strikes through your legs and quiver, but geshu lin stabilizes them with his one arm hooked on the both of your thighs. he shoots jiyan a frustrated glare, one that seemingly felt that spoke words of "what are you waiting for?"

with slow motions, he finally inserts himself into you, the shaft of his cock comes into contact along with geshu's. jiyan's eyes dared to fall, a titillating feeling wallowing his dick whole. "so tight." he manages to utter in between his hardly stifled, ragged breathing, evident that this feeling was overwhelming.

it was getting overstimulating within each passing minute, with two, fat, big cocks buried inside of you, warming and accompanying your velvet walls as one of them itches to move - geshu's tip crooks inside and rubs on your sweet, textured spot, rewarding the generals your strings of satisfaction. "ah— i'm cumming!"

perhaps it was too late when you said it, but geshu pulls out, giving jiyan a chance to fully savor your slutty hole. "i'll make use of your mouth for now." he flips you around, making you stand on all fours with your ass perked upwards, giving jiyan a full view of your aching cunt.

you shake your hips in desperation, wriggling around just to feel his tip come into contact with your slicked walls again. all the while you coil your digits around geshu's cock, starting off with the head by kitty licks on its little slit. the white haired general loses composure and restraint, hands finding themselves cupping the frame of your face, urging for you to go deeper. as obedient as you became once lust runs in your system, you finally lap all his length up, and at the same time, jiyan rams into you, continuing where he left off earlier.

more sloppy sounds emit from the intercourse as slurping and licking accompanied geshu's dick. sweat begins to trickle all the way down all of your bodies, both the generals' luscious hair becomes disheveled, they ramp their movements by a notch as jiyan performs such impactful thrusts, ramming with his balls deep in and as for geshu, he fills your mouth with his dick alone - both aiming to chase the familiar feeling of release.

jiyan's pacing transitions into a faster one, hands gripping your waist hardly that'll certainly leave a burning sensation on your skin later on. meanwhile geshu lin, he bucks his hips forward, the tip of his cock kissing the very back of your throat. tears then begin to well up in your eyes, burning your irises as your gag reflex was getting harder and harder to tame.

"swallow it."

"i'll shoot it inside."

the both of them says in unison, and finally, strings of their sticky cum sprawl all over your body's insides: one in your womb and another in your throat. the two generals took some time to let these events sink in their desire filled minds, dicks still not softening any time soon.

jiyan looks at your naked back, the supple skin of yours makes him want to do more; eventually succumbing to the temptation. he wraps his arms around your chest and pulls you to a tight embrace, chin rests on your shoulder blade. you heavily pant, the back of your head now laid on the plane of his chest. the two of you then look over to geshu lin, whose facial expressions say that he's in no way satisfied. reading the ambience of the atmosphere, a gut feeling kicks in and tells you that jiyan feels the same.

geshu lin closes in, kissing away the drool escaping past the margins of your soft, sultry lips. jiyan then does the same, softly nibbling on your shoulder, making you elicit a short whimper.

"now, tell us. which one of us do you prefer?"

[sugurouge]

— yes, my lady : sebastian michaelis x f!reader

content warnings! reader is a descendant of the phantomhive family, power imbalance (master/servant) but also (human/demon), somewhat monsterfucking if you squint (i wanted to make use of his ‘true form’ a little), smut, size difference, manhandling, praise, pet names (my lady, darling, dear), orgasm control, sacrilege, a tiny bit of blood, topics of loneliness

summary: after another tiresome day out in the world, you are greeted with your recent mistake—sebastian. a hand-me-down from your ancestors that you summoned by chance and who now apparently has a contract with you. yet this modern world, working women, independence, and your awfully bratty attitude are challenges that are entirely new to him. however, he did swear to serve you. so, allow him to take care of his tired "mistress"

wordcount: 5k | my kinktober masterlist

It’s not every day that your job becomes stressful enough to fully tire you out. But today, today was even more draining than you had anticipated. Deep red eyes watch your tired form from across the hallway, raking over your figure as the owner remains quiet. Sebastian hasn't quite understood the fulfillment behind humans working themselves to the bone, nor the desire for young women to eagerly venture out to conquer “corporate,” as you once called it.

Yet, understanding or not, he is sworn to serve you and look after you. You are in his care until the contract is completed.

For this, he steps forward, his touch as sultry and gentle as his voice that welcomes you home. “My Lady,” the demon begins, as strength returns to your figure upon the stabilising hold of his hands on the small of your back while you remove your heels. You meet his smile with a glare from your pretty eyes, still wary of your newly added decor.

“I can handle myself just fine, Sebastian.” Yes, you’re a feisty one. Sebastian has been well aware of that fact since the moment you met. You dislike men staring at you in the street, loathe the forced small talk with them at work, or having to humour one of them when all you want is to be in the safety and comfort of your home. The once safe haven you now share with some sort of butler, or so he proclaimed. Never would you have expected such an outcome from your family’s antiques.

But here you are, the independent woman from before, now with a handsome devil at your beck and call. “You appear particularly exhausted tonight. Why not let me take care of you and help you to a restful night?” Sebastian proposes with gentle calmness to your vervour as his hands return to rest behind his back.

He irritates you. His act of concern for you when all he truly cares for is your soul. The motive is clear, yet he play-pretends to be something you cannot wrap your head around. “And what could you do for me?” you challenge in return, crossing your arms in front of your chest as the tip of your nose lifts a little higher to meet Sebastian’s gaze. “Anything you wish,” replies the butler, without a hint of malice in his words. “I would propose running a hot bath, brewing a warm cup of tea, and—” he pauses, clearly having caught himself with an idea you would despise.

The proposal sounds pleasing, almost exactly what you would do if you weren’t feeling too lazy to run a bath for yourself. But he doesn't need to know that. Your expression remains unfaltering, almost challenging. “And what? Speak, Sebastian.” The quirk of your brow ticks Sebastian off in just the right way, your confidence and demand a challenge he secretly enjoys.

The distance between your bodies grows smaller, and a gloved hand tips your chin up as red hues draw near. “A massage for your exhausted figure, my Lady.” He drawls the title, a pinch of condescension hidden in his words. You can’t resist the idea of standing on your toes, leaning further into his space to see him shrink away as your lips almost brush Sebastian’s while you speak: “Carry me, Sebastian.”

Yet, he does not shy away. He feels your pulse quicken, hears your heart drumming a beat of bravery, while your sweet lips could offer a relief he hasn’t felt in millennia. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth upon your demand and, without hesitation, you find yourself in his embrace. Knees and shoulders pressed firmly against his body, Sebastian carries you to your bedroom.

He knows tonight won’t be easy on him. Sebastian is well aware of the mischief you try to conceal, to seem more mature than you actually are. But tonight you appear different; tonight, you bring new challenges to your rendezvous once your head finds its rest on his shoulder. The tease of your breath against his neck, your smaller fingers playing with his necktie as you wet your lips. Nothing good comes from those pretty lips, Sebastian notes.

“Sebastian?” How can you suddenly say his name so softly? He looks down to you, the crimson tinge to his eyes making him appear like a starved hunter under the faint lights of the streetlamps and mood lights in your apartment. “The water is already set and at the perfect temperature for the female body.” Of course, he had heard your footsteps from afar and decided that tonight would be perfect for a bath. He is an expert at planning, at being one step ahead of everyone else. That is, until you continue speaking. A simple command, short and to the point, too alluring: “Undress me.”

You need to try harder if you wish to get a rise from him. For now, you find yourself seated on your bathroom counter with a newly found frown adorning your face. It doesn’t suit you, but it entertains Sebastian. “Your wish is my command,” he speaks an octave lower, honey almost dripping from his words before skilled fingers smooth out the fabric of your blouse. Sebastian’s gaze does not meet yours while he unbuttons it; he stays focused on the task without lusting over your exposed skin.

Suddenly, you wish he would want to devour you. The gloved touch that teases your upper body is not enough, yet so close to the fulfilling feeling of desire that you miss.

The clothing item is pushed off your shoulders before his touch ghosts along your waist. “May I continue?” The question is accompanied by one hand held out to you, palm facing up for you to grasp and rise to your feet. In one swift move, you find yourself staring at your reflection in the mirror as Sebastian spins you around to undo the intricate buttons of your skirt you had struggled with this morning—why must designers place them in such difficult spots?

To nobody’s surprise, they are undone as quickly as your blouse, before your silk dress follows suit and pools around your ankles, leaving you in nothing but a tantalising set of underwear—dark red, almost a perfect match to Sebastian’s eyes. You eyes meet through the mirror and you refuse to shy away. No, like the little vixen that you are, you lean forward just enough to expose yourself further to your demon as you pretend to busy yourself by wiping off your lipstick.

It feels humbling to witness his gaze remain unfaltering; Sebastian continues to look into your eyes rather than the places you want his greed to be. “I will prepare your tea now,” he states as business continues as usual before leaving you alone.

A sigh is all you allow yourself as your shoulders slump. You really tried to seduce him. At the thought, you find a smile tugging at your mouth, the lust to be desired something that has been missing for a while now in your life. You know work, you know how to overwork yourself, and you have no time for flings or meaningless encounters. That was when he entered the picture.

Upon Sebastian’s return, he finds you seated in the bathtub; You’ve made sure to keep your hair out of the water and expose your neck, for hungry eyes to appreciate the shein layer of damp on your skin. The plate beneath the teacup meets the ceramic of your bathtub as your widened—nearly pleading—eyes shoot up to challenge his. If only you had acted a second quicker, you would have caught him staring at your cleavage, barely covered by the water and foam.

“Is there anything else you may need?” Sebastian inquires. He hates to admit it, but tonight seems like a greater challenge than he anticipated. How the simple word “You” could weaken a demon of his calibre is something for future Sebastian to concern himself with. Present Sebastian relishes the desire tugging at his stomach, the way you stare at him so submissively. Until you continue speaking: “Massage me, my butler.”

You turn your back to him as he takes his place behind you on the edge of the bathtub. Would you still be so smug if he grabbed your cheeks between his fingertips? If he forced you to look deep into his eyes while coaxing the cutest sounds past your lips? How can you act this way when at night you hump your pillow and beg for more, something better? Yet in the daylight, you behave like a spoiled princess, and he only adds to that imaginary status of yours. How badly he would love to ruin it. One or two more slip-ups, and he might find a loophole in your contract and commands.

To your dismay, gloved hands meet the skin of your neck. “Take them off, Sebastian. Touch me fully.” Your words bounce off the bathroom tiles, and his reply of “Yes, my lady,” echoes back. Shivers elicit along your neck as his skin touches yours, and the strength behind Sebastian’s touch massages the knots and the sorrow from your shoulders.

The moment is sweet enough to let your eyes fall closed, your head resting against Sebastian’s thigh as you sigh a gentle moan of relief. The sound snaps Sebastian’s attention to your face. With your eyes closed, he allows himself a moment to admire your features. Even a demon can admit that some humans are indeed beautiful. Sometimes, that beauty doesn’t surpass their soul, but in your case, there is something so unique about you that captivates Sebastian’s attention and lust.

You catch him staring as your eyes flutter open, the position you find yourself in so vulnerable, with him leaning above you. “Naughty butler…” you tease, and Sebastian wants to wipe that cheeky smirk right off your face. “If you have so much time to stare at me, you might as well wash my body for me.” The disrespectful teasing, as if he were nothing more than a pet, reminds Sebastian of someone else, someone he couldn’t wait to devour many years ago. But what else could he do but make himself useful for now?

In a swift move, Sebastian shrugs off his jacket and pushes up the sleeves of his buttoned shirt before kneeling beside your bathtub. He appears disinterested again, putting on a perfect mask of nonchalance as he runs the washcloth along your shoulders and arms, warming your figure and letting rose-scented water wash the sorrows away.

Until you’ve had enough of this act. Until you grow overly confident as you lean into his proximity: Your fingers lace around Sebastian’s wrist like a personal handcuff, your eyes locking onto his. “Be more thorough, Sebastian. Wash away the filth.” You go as far as to help him run the cloth over your chest. The drag of his nails against your sensitive skin sends shivers down your spine, and Sebastian watches you attentively, to witness your pupils dilate, the pink tip of your tongue darting out to wet your lips as your noses almost touch. He has never obeyed such a troublesome person before.

You start to bring out the worst in him—something that wants to teach you a lesson, something to remind you how different the roles could be if it weren't for this contract. The washcloth is pushed over your breasts and dips beneath the surface of the water to run along your stomach before being abandoned entirely as Sebastian’s fingers dip into the supple flesh of your thighs. Blunt nails drag along your inner thighs, and he loves to watch the shift in your demeanour; how you grow shy beneath his touch, your stare faltering as he draws dangerously close to your sacred area.

There is no bite to your bark as you cry out his name, your need for him too evident while you try to maintain a pretence. "S-Sebastian!" Finally, you act as your thighs press shut around his hand, panic ever so evident in your pretty eyes he can't stop the devilish smirk from spreading across his features. "My dear, don’t tell me you expect to play with fire and come out unharmed…"

The next moment, your back meets the cold stone as Sebastian races forward, hands placed left and right from your figure on the edge of the bathtub. The impact forces a puff of air to escape your lips as your eyes snap up to meet your butler’s dark pair, searching for a trace of humanity in those pools of crimson. "Behave…" you attempt to regain control, which is met with a chuckle. "I only follow your commands," he challenges as the cloth returns to clean your body. "You wanted me to be thorough, let me be thorough."

However, the lips that crash against the racing pulse in your neck have nothing to do with the command of cleaning your body. Sebastian acts upon his own selfish accord, upon the lust you’ve ignited by teetering too close to the dangerous territories of demonic desires.

And he makes you feel too good as he ravages you, suckling and nipping at your skin until you can't help but moan, your head falling back to offer him more space. You can't even think of a fitting command, the sweet words for him to "Don’t stop, please," a much more natural reaction as his palms cup your breasts, pinching and pulling at your nipples until you whimper ever so prettily.

"Who would have thought you could turn into such a sweet darling?" Sebastian teases with whispered words against the shell of your ear, the hum that follows so deep and low it has your stomach fluttering. Your fingers lace between his dark strands, effectively holding him in place as you return to being face-to-face with Sebastian. Shamelessly, you allow yourself to rake your eyes over his sharp features. You've never wanted anything more than him. But the thought evaporates upon the sharp sensation of nails against your waistline and hips, upon the pair of fingers pushing between your folds before rubbing against your clit.

Oh? How willingly you part your legs now, Sebastian muses.

"Is this thorough enough, my lady?" he mocks as his fingertips press against the opening of your pussy, your eager hole giving way slightly as he pushes past. He knows what he’s doing to you. He sees it in the crease of your brow, feels it as your hips buck against his touch. "More, Sebastian, I need more tonight." Like the greedy thing you are, you take it upon yourself to play with your breasts, yet the silent plea in your eyes tells your butler all you want is for him to take care of you.

“Oh dear,” he whispers gently, but smiles victoriously as your moans tumble from your trembling lips when two of his fingers push inside you. "Do you give yourself to me? Allow me full reign, hm?"

The idea sounds great, perfect, until you manage to flutter your heavy eyes open and see the devious apparition in front of you. Sebastian’s eyes are more slanted, set ablaze, deep pink hues now replacing his usual red, with lust overflowing past his thick lashes as pointed teeth hide behind his full lips. Giving yourself to a demon doesn’t seem like the best idea, but the fingers stimulating your gummy spot have you nodding regardless. How lucky you are that you need to use words under these circumstances.

“Darling, tell me,” Sebastian urges as his thrusts become harsher, uncaring for the water or your comfort as your tits bounce and your walls clamp so promisingly. “N-no, no, Sebastian! Just, ah—” you falter as you try your best to stay present, to keep control over this demon while he fingerfucks you. “Think, speak, quickly, little Lady,” he further pressures you. What he wouldn’t give to do with your body whatever he wants. “Just-, just tonight! Sebastian—” the way you moan his name makes you a sinner itself, it should send you to all seven hells as the echoes ring inside his mind. “Look after me, tonight,” you finally manage to cry out as your walls pull in desperate need. “Make me feel good,” your final demand.

But instead of sweet release, you feel the disappointing emptiness as he retracts his fingers, leaving you a heaving mess in your bathtub—only now do you notice how cold the water has turned. “You can ask more nicely than that, my dear.” There is little consideration to be spared for the length of your bath once a strong arm wraps around your waist. Sebastian wastes no time in having you seated on his lap, your wet form drenching his clothing as he spreads your legs over his thighs and presses you flush against his chest. “I will look after you until the day you die,” he whispers into your ear, and maybe if the words weren’t so true and less intimidating, you could consider them romantic.

You notice that Sebastian’s form has returned to fully human, with almost tender eyes meeting yours this time around, turning your desire mellow and seasoned with sweetness. “Kiss me, please.”

He follows suit as your lips crash together a moment later, his palms stabilising your back in his hold. “More…” you breathe. Your fingers reach out to guide one of his hands on your back, between the valley of your tits, down your stomach, until you ultimately buck your hips against his, seeking further friction in desperate need. He tightens his hold on your body, tugging gently at your frame as he leans forward to suck on your wet skin, leaving marks in his wake. A small grin tugs at his lips as a soft whimper escapes you. “What’s wrong?” The whispered question makes goosebumps spread over your skin as the chill of his breath battles with the warmth of your bathroom.

“Want to be ruined by you.” The words that fall past your lips seal your fate. “Please, make me feel good, Sebastian.” You sound so desperate, only a fool would resist. “Taint me,” you shamelessly sigh against his ear, “Let me feel you.”

“Taint you…” he murmurs, halting his movements momentarily to witness you grow impatient before one of his arms holds a firm grip around your waist, restricting your movements as you’re now fully pressed against his chest. “How much more does my little Lady want to be tainted?” His free hand ghosts along your puffy lips, your slick making the drag too easy, too appealing to not draw circles into your clit, only pulling back any time he feels you squirm on his lap. Your little cries are music to Sebastian’s ears. It’s so good, too good, the way his fingers move, almost as if he already knows all your weak spots. “Do you wish to experience bliss only I could give you, and ruin yourself for all eternity?” His questions urge you to wrap your arms around him, to hide your face in the gentle embrace of a monster, as though you’re trying to hide from judgement itself upon your immoral fantasies. “I wish for that, Sebastian.”

No further words are needed, not when your lips convey more as they meet Sebastian's. A kiss so fierce, he may steal the air from your lungs and drag you to hell himself. Teeth pull at your bottom lip unapologetically, his tongue meeting with your own, entwining with another until you taste him. Meanwhile, the familiar stretch of his fingers, accompanied by the filthy squelching of your arousal, threatens to overload your senses. The teasing returns as your lips part to allow Sebastian a front row seat to your desperate play, as his thumb presses into your clit. You really yearn for this orgasm, don’t you? Of course, you do, with how tightly you clench around his digits, pulsing as though you’re trying to keep him inside—as if he couldn’t offer you a much better alternative.

“Let go, my dear, you look so beautiful right now, I want to see you come undone for me.” Sebastian encourages, as his fingers expertly curl against your walls, each time pushing past the limits of what you’re able to take. So you let go, finally, allowing your eyes to shut as your fingers fist the fabric of his dress shirt. He’s never received praise in a prayer-like form, the sighing thank-yous tumbling free between your moans, so unlike the feisty thing you pretend to be. You are adorable. “Very good, my darling, just like that.” Sebastian whispers, as the movements slow down until his fingers still inside you, until the heaving of your chest and the trembling of your thighs calms, and you fall into his embrace.

But much to Sebastian's surprise, and despite his predictions about your exhaustion, you return his previous affections. Your lips kiss along his neck as you undo his necktie, fingertips already so eager to free him from the confines of his clothes, it makes Sebastian wonder who the real glutton between you two is. “My Lady,” he innocently halts your advances as he entwines his fingers with your own, kissing each tip while holding eye contact. “Shouldn’t we proceed to your chambers? I don’t wish to bring needless discomfort upon you—you need your strength to handle me.” At that, you feel his tongue drag along your pointer finger before a final kiss is placed on its tip, while a devious smile returns to Sebastian’s lips. If only you wouldn’t look so adorable each time he teases you. But you are already too far gone to keep up pretences, when you can instead allow someone else to finally be your resolve.

So it's only natural for you to command Sebastian once more. “Bring me to my bed,” you mumble while your arms already lace around his neck. He follows.

Yet it catches you by surprise once you’re simply dropped into your bouncy mattress and sea of pillows. However, in the next moment, you find yourself caged underneath Sebastian. Your hands roam free to undo his dress shirt and shrug it off his figure, allowing your nails to drag over his pearly skin until you reach his pants and finally feel what lies hidden behind the dark fabrics.

You seem in control, until firm hands spread your thighs and Sebastian leans in, to nibble along your inner legs, shining in the moonlight as he dives between your thighs to lap at your cunt, his tongue pushing past the tight ring of your entrance before dragging all over your hot and puffy pussy. He then licks and kisses his way up your stomach, sternum, and nipples, while the surprising satisfaction of his cock—hot, hard, and leaking with pre-cum—coats itself with your juices. He grinds against you until you writhe for more, until his hands find rest on the back of your knees so he can press your legs up against your sides, fully opening you to thrust into you without struggle, without restraint, as lust overcomes him.

You shake your head at the stretch of his girth welcoming your pussy, sweet pleas mixed with whiny complaints escaping your lips without much thought. “‘S too much, Sebastian… can’t…” you admit. The chuckle that follows is devious, before a soft sigh in satisfaction follows as tender lips place an adoring kiss to your cheek. “You will,” Sebastian whispers, followed by the command “Now just surrender to me.” His lips seek out your own once more as he picks up a relentless pace.

Your nails dig into his back, leaving red streaks that run deep. You can’t look at anything but him—his strong body on top of yours, the visible strain to his muscles while he ruts into you—until you find yourself once more captivated by his eyes. He almost looks at you lovingly, no hungrily. But Sebastian doesn't just want to consume your soul; no, his desires reach beyond basic greed. He wants to own you, to keep you to himself, to reign over you until your best years are over. You can see it clearly while swimming in crimson. But with the delicious drag of his cock inside your walls, you might just let him. Who would have expected you to be tamed this well by getting fucked?

“Please, please, please,” you exhale as your head lolls from side to side, writhing beneath your very own demon. Oh? You’re quick to beg. Quick to turn desperate, so eager to have more of something that should never have been yours. “Sebastian, Sebastian,” you repeat like a mantra as his hands hold your fragile body, digging into your hips to force you into a perfect arch for Sebastian to ravage your skin. He litters kisses over your chest, laps at your nipples, and drags your hips back down to snap against his while he is guided by gluttony.

“Give yourself to me,” you demand with no trace of shame in your bones, finally giving him a task worthy of your beautiful soul. “Stay with me, be mine…”

You almost feel dizzy with how easily Sebastian hoists you up until you’re on all fours, ass perfectly exposed for him to fully sheath his cock inside you, effectively pushing your upper body into your sea of pillows. But in stark contrast to his rather harsh handling of your body, his lips return to press soft kisses along your back. “I am yours if you are mine, my darling.” The words flow like honey before your blood coats Sebastian’s tongue as he breaks the skin, engraving himself on your skin.

Your fingers dig into the cushions, searching for support as you struggle. But the strong arm lacing around your body is all the comfort you will need from now on; his cold touch will soon set you ablaze.

Sebastian is deep inside you, the head of his cock finding your sweet spot almost naturally as he perfectly curves against your velvet walls, hips snapping against your ass with unforeseen fervour. His hands dig into your hips, surely bruising your hip bones for the coming days, but you’ve never felt this good before. Never so full, never as cared for as by the monster that is in love with your soul. You moan his name in delight, making Sebastian proud once you eagerly bounce back into his thrusts.

The husky sounds of pleasure grow clearer as his movements slow down. You feel yourself being further pushed against the mattress, to spread your legs wider and arch deeper, for his penetration to slowly steal your sanity. Who would have expected the pressure of his palm against your stomach would make you clamp around him this much? Moaning, whimpering, pleading as you beg for mercy, trying to tell him it’s too… “Too good, Sebastian, I’m—”

His movements are slow but precise, accentuating the way you desperately clamp around him in an attempt to hold him inside you for eternity. “Yes, fall apart. Let go for me,” Sebastian’s eyes roam over your smaller body beneath him—a sweaty, shaking mess. He will take care of that right after you are done. For now, instead of worrying, his hands grab at your ass almost aggressively, spreading your lower lips even further as he ruts into you.

The high-pitched squeal that escapes your throat when he picks up his pace again serves as a perfect display of your misery. Tears prick at the sides of your eyes as your hips are pushed back to meet Sebastian’s relentless thrusts. “Make me proud, little Lady...” his final demand, with sneaky fingers returning to play with your clit as he hoists you off the bed, holding you tightly against his chest.

You’re fully seated on his cock, entirely engulfed by his embrace and consumed by the demon, just as you bask in the sweet release coursing through your veins. Sebastian allows himself to be lost in your pretty cries and the way your pussy practically drips from both of your orgasms. True to his nature, he watches you like a devil on your shoulder; dark red eyes witnessing your fucked-out expression while the cutest smile illuminates your features.

His lips caress your neck as he whispers, “Do you feel better now?” You hum and let your fingers card through his hair, a tired “I do. Thank you, Sebastian” exchanged from your mouth to his ear.

Swiftly, Sebastian moves to carry you back to your spacious bathtub and lets it refill with warmth. “How about my Lady actually relaxes this time around?”

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[bi-writes]

there's trouble in paradise. but lucky for you, your other half would do anything for you. anything. (arranged-husband!simon x fem!reader)

previous part (recommended read, but not required)

cw: reader is described as plus-sized/curvier, dark!reader, dark!simon, unhealthy relationship dynamics (both of you are so fucked up inside), horror movie vibes, themes of obsession + possessiveness + psychopathic behavior, military criticism, mature language and content, graphic depictions of murder + violence, mentions of simon's canon trauma, voyeurism, smut, piv, cumplay, oral (fem!receiving), breeding kink 18+ (this piece is very dark and includes the encouraged murder of someone innocent -> read at your own discretion)

if simon is anything, it is that he's...unpredictable. except for how he spends his mornings.

you close your eyes when you feel his warm hand on your jaw. your head tilts back, and you part your lips, knowing what will come. your hear the shuffle of fabric, and then you're kissed, a sloppy kind of kiss, a harsh tongue slipping into your mouth and tracing your teeth.

it's aggressive, his kiss. he doesn't try to savor the taste, he just takes. his teeth hit yours sometimes, but he doesn't apologize. just cradles your head in a different direction and continues to shove his greedy tongue down your throat.

you chase him when he pulls away. he chuckles, the bastard, and when you open your eyes, he stands tall behind where you sit. you smile up at him, opening your mouth obediently, and you take two of his fingers and suck. the pads of his fingers press against your tongue, and you lap at the callouses. it feels good to be full of him, in any way he will give.

you like having some part of him inside of you, always. it makes you feel whole. complete. incredibly satisfied, a cup full of liquid, blood touching your tongue.

"good morning," simon murmurs, glaring down at you almost. if you didn't know him, you'd take his expression for ire, but you know it's just the intensity of whatever sits in his chest. "worried when y'weren't in bed."

you flutter your lashes, and simon palms at your throat, bending lower. you want to nibble on his scarred bottom lip, but he holds you at such a length to keep you away. you pout a little.

"don't do tha' again," he tells you. it is a warning. someone else might take this too literally, too harshly. as if he was commanding you, and he is, sort of, but they wouldn't understand. no one would understand. "y'hear?"

you nod.

"sorry," you whisper, letting his fingers go and kissing them softly. "couldn't sleep...didn't wanna wake you."

he sniffs. he doesn't like what he hears.

"and wot do i always say?" he asks. "hmm?"

you smile a little, looking away, bashful. "that...that i can have whatever i want."

"tha's right."

you giggle, standing from your seat, turning and wrapping your arms around his neck. he picks you up from the fat of your hips, hoisting you onto the kitchen table with ease. he knocks your knees apart, stepping between them, and you cup his cheeks to kiss him easily.

"tell me," he commands. "tell me wot's on y'r mind."

you sniffle, dragging your knuckles down his masked cheek. you nuzzle your nose into his, closing your eyes, and he leans into you, wanting more. he reads you well. there isn't a flicker in your eyes that he wouldn't catch. he's too perceptive, too observant, too in-tune with what you are, which is his. it relieves you, in a way. you don't have to lie because he will always catch your dishonesty.

"how come..." you bite your lip. "y-you told me i shouldn't call you. when you're away. s-so...so i send letters to base. but...you never respond."

he tilts his head to the side, cupping the back of your neck. when he finds your eyes, he keeps them, steadying you with a firm grip.

"wot letters?"

you pull back a little, blinking up at him.

"i...i send you a letter. e-every day that you're gone. i-i...i send it to you."

he shakes his head, "swee'eart, i've never gotten a letter."

you swallow, smoothing your hands down his chest. you frown a little, looking down.

"oh..." your heart eases a little. "i...i thought you were ignoring me."

"probably just some bloke tha' doesn't know m'name," simon soothes you. "would never ignore ya. and y'know the number to call in an emergency, but i suppose 'm glad tha' you've never had ta call."

you meet his eyes. dark. purposeful. focused.

"i can take care of myself."

the letters never arrive, even after you double check their address. you show it to him the next time he comes home, the back of the envelope with the address scribbled onto it, and all he does is shrug.

"tha's me, luv," he mutters, pushing the letter aside, hoisting you up against the wall as he kisses you hungrily. "now open up," he growls, shredding your panties with a tight fist as he fucks into you eagerly. "oll f'me, missed y'r cunt..."

simon is nothing if he isn't an insatiable animal. every time he comes home, he fucks you until your vision is nearly permanently blurred with tears and your brain is defiantly turned off. he fucks you dumb, in every sense, and you think he enjoys the way he swipes your drool with a big thumb and sucks it into his mouth with a groan. maybe it tastes different, when you're brainless from another orgasm and saying things that aren't coherent, hips canted up as he continues to pound into you from behind.

but you adore it. you love it. you love him.

it's visceral, what you feel inside. it tears at something delicate. whenever you look at him, you can't help the smile, even if it's small. the way he makes you feel when you look into his eyes--it nearly chokes you. neither of you ever last long. someone always breaks the moment, moving until you are near so that you can kiss feverishly.

you both scramble to be together. when he comes home, he always attacks you as soon as the front door smacks against the wall. you've fucked numerous times on the floor in the foyer, too eager to welcome him back when he goes for weeks on end to even make it to the couch. you love when he practically tackles you to the floor, throwing you down as he gets between your legs, big hand cradled into your hair so it doesn't smack against the hardwood floor. the gesture is so sweet that it makes your eyes tear, even if he's biting at your tits so hard they nearly draw blood.

simon would do anything for you. there is nothing that crosses a boundary, no request that he would not fulfill, no crime he wouldn't commit. he's disgusting, a right prick bastard that you know would enjoy skinning the backs of someone's hands just for your very own amusement. you wouldn't call him a dog--a proper dog respects authority, acts loyal and good and cowers when they have done something wrong.

simon doesn't always listen to you, not really, you don't think he really listens to anyone. but everything he does, he does knowing it is what's best for you. he takes care of you, especially when you're too cock-dumb to make any right-minded decision. he's the center of gravity, and you are his, bringing each other back into balance when you get knocked off kilter. sometimes, this balance requires a sacrifice.

simon is all too willing to give one.

you don't blame him for that. the wiring in his head, it's a little fried, a little frayed. it isn't his fault. he's seen torture. been through it. watched comrades die, tasted his own blood and that of someone else's. he's seen the insides of someone, watched it protrude from the holes in their bodies, sometimes from his own hand. he's just a little rough around the edges, just a little scarred.

no one likes to talk about the fact that servicemen like simon are glorified serial killers. you understand this fact, and you know that if you explained it to simon, he would probably agree with you. but instead of acknowledging the reality of it, you think he might smile. he is given permission by his country, by his king, to kill under the guise of international security, for the common good.

what would we not do to protect our homeland from terrorism and warfare? what necks would we not snap? what blood would we not shed? what would we not do to protect the places where our wives lay their heads and our children play their games?

that is how he would justify it to you. he'd tell you not to worry, that heaven is an idea made up by weak men who don't have the strength to do something about their foe.

you would believe him, if he said that to you. you would smile back at him, kiss him soft, and let him fuck a baby into you just to shut you up.

but this wouldn't change a thing. it wouldn't change what he is. it wouldn't make him any less a murderer, any less a man that takes what he wants. he has a heavy hand, not just in combat, but with you. he does not ask permission, but it wouldn't matter; fortunately, you have the same disgusting urge inside of you, and you practically beg him to take from you.

although, there is one thing that separates you from him. you might carry the disease--the one that makes you indifferent to his violence, his past, his trauma, his crimes. but you don't carry the execution of it. you've never killed anyone. you've never held a gun. sometimes, when someone parks a little too close to your car, you think about what it would be like to put their head behind your tire and reverse over it, but nothing you ever do leaves the horror of your mind.

you are positively boring in that sense. lieutenant simon riley's picture-perfect good girl, his lovely wife. the one that lets him voice his horrendous crimes and sleeps just as peacefully as before because of it. no one would ever know that he's murmured in great detail about how he tortured his latest target, telling you about how he screamed quite loudly when he picked his fingernails off but was rather quiet when he carved tally marks into his forearm.

"was he, baby?" you whisper, sucking soft on the stubble around his jaw. he palms your ass gently, satisfied when he feels the way his cum drips between your folds and wets his hand. he nods, shrugging.

"fuckin' muppet. deserved wot he got."

"i know he did," you agree, nodding, reaching down and starting to pump his length, still wet from your cunt. you mewl when he starts to harden immediately, the blood rushing to his cock as you fondle his balls. "now tell me how much you missed me again..."

it isn't your fault that he gets you this wet just by talking about his aggression. it can't be. it's primal...instinct. ghost is a protector, and you are his wife--you like thinking about what he might do just to keep you safe.

you like thinking about what he might do just to keep you happy.

but you're not happy. he's gone for three weeks this time, a long stretch that leaves you a little lonely and a little on edge. you send him your letters, writing every day about how quiet it is at home, about how alone you feel and how much you miss the space he takes up in your bed. you even miss the amount of food he consumes--you're so used to cooking enough to feed four proper people just for him to scarf it all down and eat your cunt to tell you how grateful he is.

you haven't really been on base since you married; you spent a few weeks there right afterwards, in and out of his bed, practically attached to simon by the hip. it's been a long while since then. he bought you a little flat in london and gave you a nice sleek credit card, and that was that. simon doesn't care for you to spend much time on base. he thinks you too pretty and complains under his breath that you're a distraction, which you are. you're always so caught up with how hot he looks working that you end up underneath him more often than not; simon prefers you at home so he doesn't lose all his fucking energy trying to keep up with you.

you roll down your window, flashing your license at the officer there. he clicks a flashlight on, looking at it, and he swallows hard when he sees the last time there.

riley.

"afternoon, ma'am," he tells you with a nervous smile. "your husband, looks like he isn't here, he's--"

"i know where he is," you interrupt. "but he'll be back soon. just some housekeeping i need to do." you tilt your head to the side. "i don't have to call the lieutenant and tell him you're refusing me, do i?"

"n-no, ma'am."

you slam the door shut after you park, eyeing the motorcycle a few parking spots away. you sigh, clenching your jaw, before swinging your purse over your shoulder and straightening out the front of your jeans. you told him not to ride that fucking thing, the big dummy.

you pass through the offices first, and when you get nearer to where captain price and your husband sit, you stop in your tracks when you see a new little desk set up there.

there's a woman sitting there.

she's got a corded phone held between her ear and her shoulder, and she's writing on a sticky note rapidly, nodding her head as she talks to someone quietly. you tilt your head to the side, watching her, and your lip twitches just enough when she hangs up the phone and stands to put a few files away in a cabinet.

she's wearing a tiny little skirt and stockings, and you run your tongue over your teeth when you get a glimpse at the garter belt she's wearing underneath. you follow the line of her long legs to her kitten heels, and then back up to the blouse and blazer she wears. she turns around, adjusting her sleeves, and you straighten your back when you can see the lace of her black bra underneath the white blouse.

cause who the fuck wears a black bra under white at work?

you adjust your purse over your shoulder and make your way down the hallway, ignoring her as you stop in front of simon's office and look for the key on your key ring.

"oh! excuse me--excuse me!"

you stop looking for the key, turning over your shoulder. the woman is getting up from her seat, hurrying over. she's a tiny little thing, bouncing over to you with an exacerbated face.

"hey--excuse me," she puts a hand on the door. "you can't go in there."

you raise a brow.

"oh, really? why's that?" you ask. she looks you up and down a little, her smile fading a little.

"well...lieutenant riley doesn't like it when people are in his private space. and there's classified material in there, so i'll need to verify if you have the right security clearance."

she twirls a soft curl around one of her fingers, and you flash her an irritated smile.

"oh, well, i'm sure he won't mind if i go inside," you tell her, turning back. you finally find the right key, fitting it into the lock.

"hey--hey! you can't go in there! i'm serious, i'll call security," she huffs. you laugh, turning to face her as you push the door open.

"oh, go ahead," you murmur, stepping closer. you're about the same height, but her eyes are no match for your own. she's alive inside, and you are not. there are places that you can go that she would never come back from, and she flinches a little when she meets your eyes intensely. "in fact, i dare you to call security."

you drop your purse on simon's desk, rounding it and taking a seat in his chair. you open one of the drawers, rummaging through it, and you roll your eyes a little when you find a pack of cigarettes that simon had said he'd thrown out. strike two already.

lying bastard.

you're still rifling through the drawer when the office door bursts open. you recognize one of simon's sergeants, kyle, huffing his chest as he looks around the room with a glare. the woman is behind him, her arms crossed over her chest and making her breasts comically pushed up towards her chin, her eyes narrowed at you. when kyle sees you, he immediately snatches his cap off his head and takes a step back. his posture changes, his back straightening up as he assumes a near soldier-stance.

"fuck, sorry, ma'am," he murmurs. "i didn't mean to barge in that way, i--"

"it's alright, kyle," you say softly, smiling a little. "something i can help you with? simon isn't here right now."

the woman steps back, confusion on her face, and she hides doorway now, out of your sight.

"no," kyle gives you a polite, nervous smile. "apologies again."

you shake your head and shrug, standing up to go close the door. you poke your head out, and she's sitting at her desk again, her expression a little wobbly as she looks up at kyle and uses her hands as she speaks, looking utterly mortified.

"--how was i supposed to know that? she didn't introduce herself--"

"look, you just better hope she doesn't tell him about this. fuckin' kiss her arse or somethin', for fuck's sake," kyle mutters, shaking his head, and you smile to yourself as you close the door completely.

it's a few hours later, while you're smoothing a hand over a report simon has written, when the door opens. you look up from the desk, smiling immediately.

there he is.

simon cocks his head to the side, and you eye the flex of his fists in his gloves. he clicks his tongue, pushing his hood off, and you giggle when he narrows his eyes at you. he's being playful, and you stand, rounding the desk as you hurry towards him.

"well wot's this 'ere?" he chuckles, and you squeal when you jump up, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing kisses to his masked mouth, over and over again. he catches you easily.

"simon--" you thumb at his cheeks, letting out a shaky breath, and you laugh when he fists both sides of your ass, squeezing your arse in the nice denim jeans you're wearing. he hums lowly, nosing at your jaw.

"wot are y'doin' 'ere?" he murmurs, reaching up to cradle the back of your head gently with one hand. you kiss him again, feeling how warm his breath is through the mask. you close your eyes, sniffling a little.

"missed you," you whisper, massaging the nape of his neck and pressing your face into the chest of his tact vest. simon rubs at your scalp gently, soothing you.

"y'know i don't like when y'r 'ere," he mutters, and you squeeze him tighter.

"i know," you sigh. "i know...i know, i just...i-i..." you pull back to look up at him. "i-i know, i just...i--"

"'s olright," he quiets you. "not mad." he presses his mouth to your forehead, kissing it gently, and you close your eyes again. "fancy a cuppa while i debrief, swee'eart?"

"...better hope she doesn't tell him about this..."

you lean up on your toes to get closer to him, fitting your thumbs under his mask and pushing it up so you can get a good kiss. he smirks before your lips meet his, and you sigh with relief when he slips his tongue into your mouth. he tastes like cigarettes, and normally you'd tell him off for it, but instead you keen when he squeezes the back of your neck, and you open your mouth wider for him. he takes full advantage, sliding his tongue over yours before sucking on it briefly. his hand palms at the plush space between your thighs, but he knows better than to touch you right away since he's still at work. if he goes any further, he'll have some explaining to do about his punctuality.

"i love you," you whisper when he pulls away. he kisses you again, just beside your mouth, and then he grins wide.

"sit, luvvie," he mutters, nodding to his desk. "won't be long."

it doesn't bother you that he never says it back. he does love you, in his own way. he never says it, but you know it's true.

you know it.

he takes your hand, guiding you over to his desk, not letting go of you until you're sitting. he winks, catching a few fingers under your chin before making his way out. you sigh, watching him from behind, your eyes raking over his broad shoulders to his waist, the thickness of his thighs and his incredible ass. you're no better than a man in that sense, but it's your husband, and you'll ogle him all you like.

it's your privilege. and your right.

but then you catch someone else's gaze, looking at the same thing. it's her--and she's got her eyes on your man.

you suck in a breath, sinking into simon's chair, and you meet her eyes once simon is gone. you smile at her, knowingly, and she swallows hard visibly, clutching the papers she's holding to her chest and making her way to the door.

"i am...so sorry about earlier," she says timidly. "i-i...had no idea that...i didn't know--"

"it's fine," you say, your voice monotone and unyielding. "glad to know this country's secrets are kept...under great care." you stand, and she comes in, holding out her hand.

"i'll get that cuppa for you, mrs. riley, no need," she laughs nervously.

"oh, so you were eavesdropping?" you ask, and she sputters.

"oh...god, n-no, i--"

"i'm just kidding," you smile again, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "tea would be nice."

she scurries off after that, and you follow her to the door, laughing to yourself as she hurries off towards the break room. you notice the cart she was sitting next to. it's stopped at her desk, and you peek over, seeing that it's the mail. she's got the envelopes on her desk, and it looks as if she was just organizing it all to hand out.

but there's a drawer open at her desk, and your eyes narrow when you see your handwriting on the envelope stashed there.

you round the desk, grabbing the stack that you see, and you let out a shaky breath when you realize these are your letters. the ones that you write to simon, all of them, bound neatly with a rubber band. your lip trembles a little, and you hold them to your chest, blinking back angry tears as you slowly make your way back to simon's office. you shut the door, dropping the stack of letters onto simon's desk, and you think.

she's very pretty. not taller than you, but she's more...conventionally attractive. she doesn't have your plush hips, your soft tummy, but that doesn't make her a villain--but you're just aware of what she looks like, what you look like.

you've never been too insecure, especially not since marrying simon. he never fails to chub up as soon as he sees you; he's hungry whenever he sets his eyes on you, and you know he likes grabbing the extra fat around your hips and holding you. he's so gross about it, but you love it. you love the way he loves you.

but is that what he imagined when he was married? did he imagine a woman with a little more? did he imagine a woman not like you, but a little smaller, a little tinier, easier to carry?

but he can carry you. on more than one occasion, he's thrown you over his shoulder, lifted you onto a surface he then fucked you on, flipped you and manhandled you into various positions he wanted to try. he loves having you on top, loves picking you up from your hips and fucking up into you. he never strains, just grunts from the pleasure and smacks your ass. he's never given you any reason to believe you aren't the most beautiful woman, his prettiest girl, so why are you thinking this way?

no. it isn't you. it's her. it's all her fault; there is nothing wrong with you. a man like simon needs a woman like you--someone not so fragile, someone that has more.

she is without. and you are not.

the insecurity wanes. it turns into something else. not jealousy. it's anger. something hungry.

you fucking hate her.

simon comes in a few minutes later, holding a cup of tea in one hand and a manila folder in the other. he shuts the door with his boot, setting down the mug and folder before leaning over and giving your cheek a little kiss through the mask.

the way he greets you, the light touch he has on you, reminds you of what you are to him. no one else in the entire world is privy to this kind of affection. to simon's affection. it's yours, and yours alone, and if you just open your mouth and tell him what you want, you know that he will give it to you.

she is without. and you are not.

"was thinkin'--" simon stops short when he looks at your face, frowning. the recognition of something amiss is almost instant. "wot's wrong?"

you look up, meeting his eyes, and you think again.

you could say nothing. you could wipe your tears, tell him that you're just lonely and needy, and make him bend you over his desk to get the thoughts out of you. you aren't the violent kind. you're not confrontational. you have already established that you aren't the kind to lash out, to show your teeth. you have the nasty tick, but you aren't the kind to let it fester.

you blink, and simon snarls. you waited too long, and now he knows there is something else on your mind.

"oi," he snaps. "'m tolkin' t'ya."

"s-simon," you whisper, and he reaches over to grip you by the throat. he doesn't choke you, but he holds you firm, dragging you closer to him. "s-simon--"

but it's too late for her, because you're angry. the sickness has already spread.

you stand, forced to walk around the desk, coming closer. he's not happy; there's something bothering his wife, and that isn't allowed. his wife is not supposed to be upset or sad, she isn't supposed to cry unless it's tears of joy, unless her eyes are stinging and wet from how nice his cock feels. a lieutenant's wife is pampered, spoiled, nothing but pleasure and soft sheets and full tummies. it's unacceptable. it's awful, it's terrible, it's not right, and he needs to fix it.

"wot is it?"

"...better hope she doesn't tell him about this..."

"the letters--" you sniffle, leaning up on your toes, pressing your face against his. "the letters i sent you, t-the ones...you said you never got--"

"i know, luvvie," he murmurs. fuck, he can be kind when he wants to be, when it's for you. "i know, 'm sorry, 'm gonna sort it out for ya--"

"i-i found them," you interrupt, looking away. he follows your gaze to where they sit on his desk. he reaches over and picks up the neat stack, and he flips through them with a huff. he's confused, noting the dates you've written on them. it isn't even all the letter's you've sent, just a stack of the most recent ones.

"i don't--"

"they were in...they were in her desk," you hiccup. "she...she's keeping them from you, she wasn't--" you rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes, and he cradles the back of your head with a big hand. "she doesn't like me."

it's quiet for a long while. simon strokes the back of your neck, easing you into his chest. his touch is light, unbothered, but he's eerily silent as the moments pass. the rise and fall of his heavy breaths lull you, calm you, but then he wraps his fingers into your hair, gripping the strands tight. you swallow a bit from the force of his hand. the gravity of what he might feel, what it might mean, the switch you've flipped.

the thing you've unleashed.

it is the first time that you realize what simon can be for you. it is the first time that you think that it's very possible for you to use simon, to whisper soft in his ear and lick the flames of his need to bite back, his need to strike.

even if what you say is a lie, he'll believe you. maybe he'll even know it is a lie, and he'll convince himself it isn't one just to make things right again. love is blinding, and it is also forgiving. he can deal with the lie later, but not with your dissatisfaction.

"doesn't matter about how she feels about ya, y'r m'wife," he murmurs in your ear. his tone has lowered, something that makes you think this might be how he speaks to his men, the privates he can't stand and the ones that have trouble following orders. "fuckin' disrespectful--" he hisses, tipping your head back with a tug on your hair. he looks into your eyes, wild, cunning, angry. "'m gonna take care of this, swee'eart. y'hear me?"

oh, yeah. that's what you want to hear, that's what you need to hear. you flutter your lashes, mouthing at his jaw.

"i don't...i don't mean to make a fuss, simon, i--" but i do, i want it--

"oi," simon picks you up from under your thighs, dropping you onto his desk. he steps between your knees, pushing his mask up, and you mewl when he licks the tears off your face, kissing you with an open mouth. "y'listen to me..." he sucks on your bottom lip, bringing his mouth back to yours. "won't accept anyone treatin' m'wife this way. disrespectin' you is disrespectin' me. won't 'ave tha'. so look me 'n the eyes 'n tell me ya understand."

you sniffle, nodding, smoothing your hands down his forearms. he narrows his eyes, and you try not to look away from him. it isn't up for discussion. even if you ask him not to make a fuss, he won't roll over on this. there is a certain decorum simon expects anyone that reports to him to have, and if they don't grant it, he doesn't take to it lightly--not from his men, and not from pretty secretaries that didn't do their homework.

"i-i understand," you whisper, and you sputter a little when you stop yourself from saying anymore. he knocks your chin back up, keeping your eyes, and you continue with a wobble in your voice. "she...she tried to kick me out earlier, too." he tilts his head to the side, and you know not to keep a secret anymore. "when i...when i was opening your office, she...s-she didn't recognize me and...she tried to get kyle to make me leave."

he laughs a little, but there's nothing funny about it.

"'n wot did he do?"

"he said he was sorry."

"good. now lie back, swee'eart. 'm hungry, 'n my wife deserves to get her cunt eaten for being such a good girl."

you smile a little, wiping your face with the back of your hand, and he grins back at you. you giggle as he unbuttons your jeans, pulling down the zipper, and you laugh a little more when he picks you up and yanks them off your legs. he puts a hand on your chest and pushes you to lie flat, tossing your legs over his shoulders and sighing.

"missed y'r lil' pussy so much," he murmurs. "m'favorite place ta be."

just like that, the anger is gone. dissolved, sugar in warm water.

you giggle, rubbing a hand over the head of his mask. you arch your back as he mouths over the fabric of your panties, hooking a finger over it and pulling it aside to slurp at your wet folds. you let out a shaky breath, tugging on his mask a little.

"i missed you, too, simon," you whisper. "i-it's too quiet without you."

"i know, baby," he suckles at your clit, coaxing a moan out of you, and he chuckles. "mmm...want ya to cum in my mouth, luv."

you whimper, "i will, simon. anything for you."

"fuckin' hell," he hisses, "don't say shit like tha', makes me fuckin' hard."

"whatever you want, baby," you whisper, and he pushes his tongue into your little hole as punishment, making you squeal and giggle with delight. he smirks from between your thighs, dragging you just that much closer before he starts to bob his head and fuck you with his tongue. you grind against his mouth, locking your ankles behind his back and staring at the ceiling as you ride his face for your pleasure. he's so good, he's so hot, everything you want and more. he loves you, so much, and he will do anything for you.

anything.

"are you going t-to teach her a lesson?" you babble, panting, and simon hums.

"yeah, swee'eart."

"how?"

"hmm..." he smiles wide as he kisses your clit. "how do ya want me to?"

"want her gone, simon," you gasp, forcing his mouth back into your pussy, slick coating his chin. he follows your direction, smoothing his hands up your stomach, thumbing at your perky tits.

"mmm..." he's so pussy-drunk, his tongue flattening between your folds and teasing you warmly. you're so wet, slick coating your folds, and he''s starting get messy, his face glistening as he concentrates on the only task that matters. "woteva y'want, luv."

"r-really?"

"i asked ya to cum in my fuckin' mouth, and y'r about to," simon snaps. "when i say it's done, it's done. when my wife asks for somethin', she gets it, do you fuckin' understand me?"

"yes! yes--" you hiccup. you're so stupid. so dumb to think that simon would refuse a request that you make. pretty, dumb girl to think that whatever you say isn't his gospel.

you want her gone. you do. and you want simon to do it for you. you want him to stuff his fingers into your cunt with one hand and hold her at the wrong end of his gun with the other--

there's something wrong with you, right? right?

"why are y'still thinkin'?" simon growls, leaning up and over you until he can kiss you nasty. his face is soaked, and you moan when he slides his tongue over yours, practically spitting in your mouth as he slips two fingers into you with ease. "my wife isn't supposed ta think."

you let out a shaky breath, nodding, cupping his cheeks and kissing him back.

"yes--o-okay, 'm sorry--"

"stop thinkin'. nothin' ta think about when y'r mine."

and he's right. you always use your brain too much, you always end up thinking when you should just be listening, responding, letting him move your body this way and that way.

simon is always right. always.

you kiss him again, soft and shaky breaths. you reach down with one hand and wrap your fingers around his wrist, sighing as you guide his fingers until he's pressing on that little spot that makes your toes curl.

"ahhh...right there, yeah?" he smirks, and you nod, your fingers touching his lips.

"not enough," you whisper, and he tsks, shaking his head.

"never is," he mutters. "my mouth or my cock, baby?"

you giggle, and he kisses you, swallowing your laughter. you breathe into the kiss as you reach down and start to undo the button of his cargos and unzip him, palming at his bulge and squeezing it lovingly.

"not even a question," you purr between kisses, and he chuckles, deep and heavy, shoving down his pants just enough to pull himself out. you arch your back just at the sight, knowing how big he'll feel and how much he'll stretch you out. it's such a familiar feeling that you adore chasing, and you love the way your brain muddles whenever he sinks deep. your toes curl just thinking about how deep he'll get today with how wet you are. not that you aren't wet always when simon is around, but there's just something so sexy about your husband wearing all his gear and promising to rid the earth of vermin just for your contentment.

"'s alright, mama, i know 'ow much ya like bein' full o' me..." simon smooths a finger over your clit, licking his lips when he sees you clench around nothing. he slaps his tip there, watching you squirm, and he growls a little when you spread your fingers in a V and show off to him how wet you are.

"stop teasing and make me a real mama," you giggle, and simon tilts his head to the side, leaning over you.

"is tha' a challenge, m'dear wife?"

you meet his eyes, lovely and lingering, and you shake your head.

"no," you whisper, because fucking isn't a challenge, not for him. "a-a request."

he smiles, so wide, and you reach down and grip his forearms tight when he slips into you. you're dripping, a soft squelch sounding as his hips meet your thighs, and you cup his face as he settles his weight over you.

"y-you've never looked at her...have you?" you ask into his ear.

"at who, baby?"

"her," you whine. "you know w-who i'm talking about, don't play stupid, simon--"

"shh--" he clamps a hand over your mouth, hissing a little. he shakes his head, annoyed, and he shifts inside of you until he's hitting your cervix and making you cry into his palm. "'m a right bastard, baby, but tha', i'd never do." he chuckles. "got a tight arse, tha' one, but she's not you. she's not my girl."

tears prick your eyes. you're not sure if it's from the hint of jealousy that sears through your chest or the way you clench around him, but it's all too much suddenly.

he leans forward, sliding his hand off, gripping you by the throat now as he kisses you wet and hazy.

"'s y'r face i think about when 'm gone," he murmurs. "y'r cunt tha' gets me fuckin' hard. y'r fat tits that make me drool, swee'eart, ain't no one else 'n the world tha' makes me feel the way y'do, yeah?"

you hold onto him, digging your nails into his back, and he forces your eyes on his as he smiles again.

"ask the boys," simon hums. "ask 'em wot it sounds like when 'm wankin' off at night, ask 'em whose name 'm sayin'--"

"you think about me?" you whimper, and he laughs, cruel, biting his lip as he drags his cock out and then punches it back in, enjoying the way you cry, the look of your slick seeping out onto the desk and wetting his reports.

"got a nasty lil' photo 'f ya," simon smirks. "keep it right here--" he pats the spot over his heart, and your mouth opens when he squeezes your throat just a little tighter. "can finish in fuckin' seconds, baby."

"y-yeah?"

"boys like t'borrow it sometimes," he murmurs, slipping a hand down and pressing down on your lower stomach before giving you a nice roll of his lips. you squeal a little, his palm meeting the tip of his cock, and he chuckles. "ya just look so pretty, luv. johnny fancies y'r cunt, the good lad, but i think price is a fan of that fat arse--"

"s-simon--"

"gaz is such a sap--" he grits his teeth, gripping your hips with both hands, starting to give it to you a little faster, a little harder. the desk rattles a little under the force of him. "says your mouth is divine, but fuck, who can look at anythin' else when y'r cunt is out, aye?"

"t-they like me?"

simon grins, eyes bright and a little crazy. "course they do, luvvie," he runs his tongue over his teeth, tilting his head to the side as he looks down at you. "y'r a bloody sight for sore eyes. 'f ya think these boys want her, y'r mistaken--" you bite your bottom lip. you should be disgusted. you should be upset that your husband touches himself to your picture and lets his men peek over his shoulder, but you're not. you smile, eyes sparkling, and you widen your thighs to try and take him deeper. "--want you, swee'eart. want wot's mine, but they'll never 'ave it. never 'ave wot belongs ta me. can look, but they can't fuckin' touch, cos it's mine."

you moan, dragging your nails down his forearms, and he curses under his breath as he picks up the pace again. he's starving--it's been weeks without you, weeks fucking his fist to the same picture of you that barely does you any justice. he drools at night, practically choking on his spit as he thinks about you in every position, how easily he can bend you and fold you, how wet you get whenever he talks into your ear about the blood, the murder, the terrible things that stain his hands.

he knows what it does to you, when he confides in you. the truth of it all, the truth of what he really is, it makes you weak. it rattles you down to your bones, it makes your eyes roll back into your head, makes your legs squeeze together and your pretty pussy flutter. he thinks maybe you like knowing that simon is dangerous, but he'd never put a hand on you. or maybe you like just knowing that he can--that he's capable of terrible, awful things, and he chooses to come home to you.

every single time.

it's a vice. you're the vice, more than cigarettes, more than the thrill of getting onto his bike, more than the adrenaline he chases when he's outnumbered twenty to one with nothing but his throwing knives.

there's a thread between you. there's a line that connects him to you, something that has always been there, pulled taut as soon as he put that ring on your finger and gave you his name. it's the thing that always makes it hard to breathe when you're around him. it's what makes it impossible to look into his eyes and not see yourself looking right back at you. it's the terrible realization that your husband is black and blue on the inside--

and so am i.

this kind of love is different. it's not fleeting, it's not gentle. it's canine teeth tearing into skin. it's claws in something soft, ripping it apart. it's the joy in doing what isn't right, the benefit of yourself in favor of the benefit of all.

simon would burn the world for you. even if it meant you were all that was left--even if it meant that everyone in it burned, too.

the world should be grateful that simon is only taking one fucking secretary instead of them all.

when simon lifts your hips just that much, your head spins. he always fucks so good, but you're spiraling into a headspace that's making it hard to focus your eyes. you're arching your back to get closer to him, but you're at his mercy, his hands pressing on your thighs just that much to get you just a little more open, just that much more spread out, and you cry when he leans over you, the hair surrounding his cock rubbing against your clit just enough.

"ahhh--fuck, y'r so fuckin' tight, baby--" simon groans, shaking his head. "y'r gonna cum--can feel it, yeah--" he leans his head back. "y'know the rules, luvvie, know the fuckin' rules--"

you have to cum before him, he won't let you have it if you don't cum first--you're so close!

"let 'er hear ya," simon chuckles, all mean, all bite. "let 'er hear 'ow good y'r husband gives it t'ya, how well a riley takes it, let 'er hear--"

fuck, it hits you fast. you're seeing spots, floating for just long enough until you feel him fuck his cum back into you. he barely stops, quickening his pace to finish just to make it that much messier. you think he likes dirtying his desk, making it reek of sweat and musk and heat so he can bask in it later. or maybe he just wants to get back between your thighs, his favorite place in the world, the only quiet from the voices that taunt him in his head.

when he pulls out, he makes you eat it off his fingers. he pulls his gloves off, stuffs his fingers into you, and then puts them back between your lips. he hums as he stares down at you, lapping between his knuckles, and he leans down to murmur in your ear.

"gonna sort this out, luv. promise ya tha'."

he doesn't see acceptance in your eyes when he tells you this. he didn't expect to see that. there is no need to accept the things that you already know, what you already understand. simon doesn't speak in metaphors. he's not interested in riddles, and he doesn't like reading between the lines.

he sees the thrill. he sees your excitement, the joy, the warm rush of approval that washes over you, and he smiles when you lean in to kiss him, all soft, all tender, whispers of affection that make his cock hard all over again.

you want to pity the girl waiting outside. she would've lived longer if she had just shut her fucking mouth.