#my bodys cold but my gut feels feverish

[sparklehoard]

Something is wrong

[hanafubukki]

for no other reason that i'd love seeing malleus and lilia freak out over you (men who keep it together SNAPPING when they see their loved one hurt? hell yes gimme), please imagine you visiting diasomnia dorm and accidentally take poison that was snuck to harm malleus.

i was replaying book 4 recently and remembered jamil taste-tests everything, but i don't remember his retainers doing the same... malleus probably grew some immunity due to lilia's cooking lolol jkjk ok but i wonder if he ever was under that eye... granted he's powerful enough that barely anyone would dare, but there must be someone who wants him gone, like, look at rollo lol that man had no fear.

so yeah, you're just doing your thing, hanging out and talking malleus' ears off while he's grabbed a snack or something, and maybe he playfully shoves the spoon into your mouth as he teases you "breathe, child of man" with a grin on his face (you know the one, the one he does when you poke him too much in the home screen and he says he'll "overlook your rudeness". sir you are not fooling anyone. you love getting our attention. ANYWAYS—). lilia's there, leaning on the counter chuckling while you roll your eyes, playing along–

and then your mouth goes numb. at first is your tongue, so you blink in confusion, not fully registering what's happening. malleus stares at you in confusion as well while lilia's the one narrowing his eyes now.

next it's your jaw that numbs, and you touch your face feeling a pang of worry–it's the next second, when it becomes hard to breathe, that panic sets in. and it sets in hard. you're clawing at your throat while your body fights for air as you panic. you hear the clang of a plate and the rustling of robes near you, and your vision is full of black and neon green as malleus' form covers you, trying to see and find what is wrong.

lilia is too familiar with said attempts, having been acquainted with nobility and a senate that hated his guts for centuries, plus the tensions among the fae kingdom centuries past. one touch to the food numbs his finger and he immediately knows, so he's out in a flash to find crewel's office where he knows there might be what he needs.

bonus points if the antidote is administered via kiss because you can't swallow it and cough it out :3

the fun part though (to me, i am not sorry lol) would be malleus going absolutely ballistic to the point where there is a storm on the whole school. maybe the island, even while lilia looks one step away from going back into general–mode. "maybe it's time i pull my old weapon out." "father, please don't."

(sebek and silver are your friends too so they'd be pissed off as well, or if you're into a whole polycule you can imagine them freaking out as well.)

but now everyone in the diasomnia dorm is under heavy scrutiny. who'd have the balls to try and go poison malleus draconia? someone with a deathwish, that's who. though now you get pampered to death by them, including some open heart talk about malleus feeling guilty you took the hit for him, albeit accidentally.

if you want the lite version with no poison, just pampering and no snapping, just imagine malleus giving you a cold or the flu, except he doesn't get it himself. his body just doesn't feel the symptoms because he's that powerfully built, but you do get it from him (does this make sense? no, i personally think the virus would avoid him alltogether but let's just go with the flow (flu, heh) here) and you fall sick in his presence a few days later, red and feverish–passing out on him on the couch, too! you didn't want to stay at ramshackle and rest when he'd been looking forward to hanging out with his favourite people, so you just popped some meds and went out anyways. congrats, now you'll be pampered to death as well! maybe literally, if lilia insists on making that soup...

(me personally i prefer the poison one because desperation + love is delicious. plus the antidote giving through a kiss. clichés are in my blood. though i'd also love the other way around where you save malleus instead, i admit it's hard for me to imagine a poison that's able to get that man at all... but hey maybe there is one! or lilia's the one that gets it accidentally. that would make both you and malleus go absolutely feral on the spot, and silver? oh boy. yeah you three are out for blood. sebek for once would be the calmest of the group while still being pretty pissed off about the whole ordeal.

but hey now you get to pamper your old man or prince a little bit! :D)

YESSS ANONIE YESSSS 🥳🫶🙌

ALL OF THIS

I love when the calm/happy ones snap. You know you’re out of luck when that happens. Whoever dared?? Their days are numbered big time.

And something caused by poison?? When it was meant for another? 🤌 yes give it to me.

I feel Malleus would have a poison resistance that he accumulates over the years. And even if his dorm is filled with mostly supporters and those who worship him, it doesn’t mean there isn’t anyone that doesn’t want to hurt him or the others.

There can be many reasons. Maybe they hate his stance with humans? Maybe they want to hurt Lilia. It could be an aftermath of his OB.

But either way, you have been harmed and that cannot be. An innocent who was a friend (or maybe something more) to them and they dare harm you?

And for Malleus to have “basically fed” you that poison? Oh the guilt and the horror.

Lilia, from experience alone, probably has a panacea or the ingredients needed. If not, crewel’s lab is getting raided. How could he have let this happen? How could he lower his guard like this? All of this he’ll have to reflect on later. Even now, enemies are in his shadows.

Administrating the antidote through kiss? Yesss

Forcing your mouth open and making you drink it. Slowly rubbing your throat to make sure it goes down.

Crewel and Vil are called to check up on you. While Lilia? He’s using his UM to find answers.

His eyes glow wine red. The shadows around him spreads. He is eerily quiet. He is hunting now.

Anything with a kiss always has me kicking my feet, I don’t care how cliche it is. I will eat it up like it’s a fine course meal and I have been starving 💞💞

Diasomnia is going to be extra protective of you for the next coming weeks minimum. Get ready to be cuddled 🥰🥰

Delicious, so delicious, thank you for this meal Anonie 🥰🥰

[silvercap]

℧ for Leon? No pressure!

Yes!!! (Prompts)

℧: a damp towel against flushed, feverish skin   

"Fuck," Leon gasps, stomach muscles trembling as he hooks his fingers on the edge of the toilet bowl just to hold himself upright. He spits the remaining acrid taste of bile from his mouth and forces himself to look up at Piers' blurry shadow where it looms by the sink, coughing. Cold sweat drags icy fingers over his shoulders, the ache in his gut telling him it's only a matter of time before he's dry heaving again. Hiss body's always been bad for not knowing when to quit. "S-sorry, you can go if you want. I'll make it up to you?"

Piers makes an affronted sound, and suddenly there's a warm palm on the back of Leon's neck that he can't help but lean into with a faint groan. His voice is calm when he speaks, low and even. "That's ridiculous. I'm not going to leave my date to vomit alone on the floor of his bathroom, especially when I was the one who paid for the meal."

"I-I was feeling sick earlier, I'm sure it wasn't..." Leon says weakly, resisting the urge to chase Piers when he pulls away and turns on the sink. Probably to wash his hands after touching someone covered in germs. Leon can feel his pulse throbbing in his skull as he drops his head forward again, lank hair brushing the toilet seat. His cheeks feel warm, too warm, and he can imagine the unattractive flush of his face, suddenly feeling rather pathetic where he kneels at Piers' feet. He'd practically been holding Leon's bangs out of the way while he retched and choked---yeah, that's classy.

"Either way, I'm not gonna leave you," Piers says, breaking Leon from his gloomy spiral. Something cool and damp settles on the back of his neck, and it takes a moment for Leon's foggy mind to recognize it as the washcloth he usually keeps by the sink. It feels heavenly against overheated skin, a sigh escaping Leon as his eyes flutter shut. Piers' artificial hand strokes over his hair, tucking it behind his ear and smoothing over the strands so gently that Leon almost feels the prick of tears behind his eyelids. "What kind of gentleman would I be?"

[natsuyuki-w]

Train care osamu miya timeskip x GN!reader (fluff) synopsis: Feverish and weak on the train, a wave of heat spreads through your cheeks as his warm pools bore into yours.

2.4 K words

file cabinet | bookshelf originals

-Look, it's here. - your friend pointed out a bit too loudly for the late hour.

You could physically feel the sharp gazes of the other passengers in the carriage. A sluggish snicker escaped your lips as she huffed in frustration, clearly embarrassed.

Her expression softened into guilt when her eyes wandered across the train and landed on the other side. - Oh, right... - she turned quickly back to you with an apologetic look.

-Sit together, you two! Don’t worry about me. - you waved off her concern with a casual gesture. Before she could ask again, you were already lowering your heavy backpack onto a single seat farther away from them.

As soon as you straightened up, you realized you were definitely not alone. Across from you, a pair of deep, warm gray eyes met yours belonging to a very handsome boy wearing a black cap over his dark hair. A lazy smile grazed your lips out of habit, and to your surprise, instead of a blank stare or embarrassed shift, he gave you a courteous grin of his own.

You were now doomed.

-Aaah, now I get it. - your second companion called out, ignoring the annoyed murmurs she was stirring from other passengers.

Raising an eyebrow, you glanced at her, trying to figure out what she was on about. After a playful wink in your direction, she snickered and leaned toward your other friend, whispering something as they settled into their seats.

Finally, your tired body sank into the stiff cushion. The moment you sat down, exhaustion crashed over you like a wave, leaving you feeling both warm and chilled. Your cheeks flushed, shivers tingled down your arms, and your nose was a mess, full of congestion from the rain-soaked misery outside. Of course, when you were the one visiting Japan, it wasn’t fluttering sakura petals greeting you, but pouring rain.

Sighing, you crouched over your bag, searching for an abandoned face mask. Your clammy fingers fumbled around the contents as you let out a few unfiltered groans, the haze of illness dulling your awareness of your surroundings. When you finally found the mask, a hum of victory left your lips, and for a brief, delirious moment, you couldn't help but sing a little tune in your head.

A soft chuckle caught your attention. You turned your head, but your seatmate was already gazing out the small window beside him, his large hand resting over his mouth, arm flexed against the windowsill.

Meh, you thought. You’ll never see this guy again anyway. What’s reputation either way? Is it edible?

Mask on, you sank deeper into your seat, fingers retreating into the long wool sleeves of your jacket while your scarf offered a motherly embrace around your neck. The memories of your trip so far warmed you more than the scarf, a smile tugging at your lips despite the weather and sickness.

Your eyelids were growing heavier when one of your friends returned to your side, shaking your arm gently to catch your attention. - Do you want this? - she asked, holding out an enormous ekiben that looked anything but digestible for your queasy stomach.

You tried to smile but waved her off kindly. - Maaaan, I need my plain crackers. - you whispered with a dramatic sigh after she left.

The reality hit you like a punch in the gut, you had just one week left before returning home. Cold sweat trickled down your forehead. Ignoring the pounding in your head, you dug into your bag, pulling out your laptop.

The blank page on your screen stared back at you mockingly, a reminder of the post-thesis deadlines you'd blissfully avoided all vacation. Taking a deep breath, you cracked your knuckles and braced yourself to finally start.

-You really want to work like that? -

The voice beside you was deep, and soothing, though the English was slightly awkward. You turned to find the boy with the cap now looking at you, his half-lidded eyes still as calm as before.

-Not to play into stereotypes, but I thought people here knew the meaning of working their butts off. - you teased, smiling faintly.

He smirked, and you mentally high-fived yourself. - It's not a stereotype. It's true. - He leaned closer to your screen, squinting slightly at the file name. - Fa…ni...ri…pu… - he struggled before shaking his head, stubborn on his new mission.

His arm rested casually on your armrest as he peered closer, making you acutely aware of how near he was. His presence felt even larger up close—his face, his broad shoulders. You could smell his subtle cologne, and it was doing all sorts of things to your brain that you didn’t have the energy to control.

- Fammi.riposare.in.pace - he finally managed, a proud grin adorning his face as he looked back at you.

You totally weren’t staring at his sharp jawline, not at all.

-Yeah, you exactly! Ten points to Gryffindor... or Ravenclaw perhaps? - you joked, quoting his wisdom and eyeing his all-black attire.

-Ooh! Hāri Pottā! - he exclaimed adorably, his excitement subtle once he caught on. - You go to Universal Studios? -

-Nope, we just went to Osaka for the chaos. - you chuckled.

He laughed along, - Ah, I know Osaka well. I live close. - then asked, - Karaoke o shima shita ka? - but before he could translate, you responded eagerly.

-Yep! I convinced them after some “liquid courage”. - you pointed to your two friends and mimicked taking a drink. - By the end of it, they were totally drunk. -

As you shared the story, you noticed how he listened intently, nodding pensively as if he could see the scenes unfolding before his eyes. But as you were getting to the part about dragging your drunk friends back to the hotel, a fit of coughs interrupted you.

His large hand immediately found your back, offering steady support, just as you were trying to forget how attractive he was.

-Sumimasen... - you groaned between coughs. - As you can see, this is the result. -

He shook his head with a soft expression as if to say, “No big deal.” Then, without a word, he started rummaging through his bag.

-Ocha desu... - he offered you a warm thermos.

-Nooo, I can’t... - you coughed again, murmuring -  At least let me take you on a date before gifting you my germs. -

It took him a second to process your joke, but when he did, a smirk tugged at his lips. - We can go to one, but your friend will get jealous. - He gestured towards the head of the train.

Your cheeks burned even hotter as you glanced there. Sure enough, the duo was peeking at you from behind their seats, one glaring daggers, the other giving you an enthusiastic thumbs up.

-Oh yeah, she's reaally regretting abandoning her poor, sick friend. - you snickered, trying to ignore the goosebumps rising under your jacket as he nudged you again.

- Drink. - it was an order.

-Yes sir, thank you sir, - you replied mockingly, but took a grateful sip. The tea was warm, soothing your throat and lungs immediately.

You could feel his gaze lingering on you longer than expected, but before you could say anything, he was already back to rummaging through his belongings.

-I’m so rude. I didn’t even ask your name! - you blurted out, a little flustered.

He blinked, then smiled. - Me too. - He reached into his bag and placed something in your hand. A small wrapped onigiri.

-O-ni-gi-ri... - you mimicked his earlier struggle, trying to figure out the kanji on the label. Confused, you squinted. - What does it say? -

 - Miya. -

-Miya? - you repeated. - Meaning…? -

Still passive in his expression but you swore you could see a hint of pride showing. - It's the name of my restaurant. -

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. - You own a restaurant? - you asked, clearly impressed.

He nodded with a smirk. - MY restaurant. I’m the owner. -

-No way! You’re so young! That’s amazing! -

He had a job.

You had a job to do.

- Fuck... - you muttered and afraid of what you were going to face you returned slowly your gaze over the, yet still, blank page. - You got me all distracted... - you whined and fitted the warm bottle between your tights bending over the device.

 - Yes! I wanted to distract you.- he shrugged innocently - Energy first, work second. - and he waved before your screen the small riceball.

Your eyes trailed from the treat to his strong arm, barely able to hold back the warmth spreading through your body.

-So, are you also the cook? -

Catching your lingering gaze he nodded with a smirk and insisting on his good samaritan work he pointed and explained - Kombu onigiri desu. -

-Seaweed, right? - you chirped, excited to understand even a bit of his language.

His expression gleamed, clearly pleased by your effort. - Nihongo shitte imasuka? -

-Naah, I just know anime catchphrases, - you admitted sheepishly, which earned a hearty laugh from him, sending a wave of heat through your already flushed face.

He gently placed the onigiri in your hand, his warm touch lingering on your skin. Your heart pounded in your chest, and despite your illness should’ve tired you from that headspace, you were completely crushing over the stranger.

You bit into the rice ball, the crispy nori and soft rice melted in your mouth, the taste fresh yet comforting.

-So good, - you hummed delighted, unable to believe your luck.

-Kawaii,— you heard him murmur, and to your horror, you noticed he was watching you with an amused expression, eyes twinkling as they lingered on your puffed cheeks.

- Oh, sumimasen…- you stammered, panic rising as you searched his face for a hint of regret, only to find none. Your heart thundered so loudly, it echoed in your ears.

You raised a hand to cover your face in embarrassment.

-You’re going to be the death of me.-

-No, no! I gave you food. You can’t die now. -he replied, dead serious. It burst out, a loud and unrestrained laugh that shook your shoulders. Peeking between your fingers, you caught him, that small smile still there, gentle and real.

You cleared your throat, trying to steady your racing heart as heat crept up your cheeks. Time to change the subject. -So... your name is Miya?- you asked between bites, focusing on the screen. -That’s my family name. Call me Osamu.- he said, and then asked for yours.

The conversation continued, Osamu’s gaze never leaving you. He watched intently, from the way you took small, careful bites of the onigiri to the way your fingers glided over the trackpad. His focus was almost unsettling, yet comforting in a strange way. It felt... attentive.

But the exchange was brief.

With your stomach full and warmed by the metallic bottle resting against it, the rhythmic rocking of the train and Osamu's soft, soothing voice melted into the perfect lullaby for your tired, sick body. In less than 30 minutes, you were fast asleep.

Osamu's plan had worked flawlessly, credit to his years of dealing with his stubborn twin. But as he looked down at your relaxed features, a small pang of longing hit him. He would have liked to continue your idle chat. Holding your shoulder gently to keep you from bumping with the sway of the train, Osamu glanced at your laptop screen and made a mental note of what you had been working on. Carefully, he closed the device resting in your lap and tucked it safely into your backpack.

Your breathing was soft, but slightly congested from the cold. His fingers hovered over the edge of your mask, hesitating. He flinched, pulling back, wondering what exactly it was about you that made him feel... softer. You snuggled into your wool scarf, searching for warmth, and with a small shake of his head, he adjusted the mask over your nose and mouth, securing it properly.

-Agent Gohan, it’s too risky to proceed as a duo. We must part ways. - the mysterious man’s intense gray eyes swam with both longing and affection.

- There’s something I must tell you before we say farewell,— he said, his large comforting hands settling on your shoulders, his face inching dangerously close to yours.

-Wake up! - he suddenly yelled, shaking you. His voice, once soothing, shifted as his face morphed into that of your friend, shrieking in your ear.

-OOOOYYY! -

You groaned in disappointment, the last fragments of your dream fading as consciousness returned. The first thing your eyes sought was the seat beside you, empty. Your heart sank, the beautiful fantasy and warmth your fevered brain had conjured crumbling in an instant. You whined softly, earning a dubious look from your friend.

-My Cinderello vanished after midnight, not even leaving a grain of rice behind. - you muttered, using sarcasm to mask the deep disappointment settling in your chest.

Again you were presented with two opposite reactions. One giggling like a schoolgirl, hiding her flushed cheeks, while the other glared daggers at you, bending down to snatch something from your belongings.

-Mmm, guess I’ll take this for myself.- she teased, walking away with a plastic bag slung over her shoulder.

Forgetting your sickness for a moment, you hurriedly gathered your things and chased after her, curiosity piqued. At the train door, you peered over her shoulder, watching as her hands rummaged through the bag.

-I can’t believe this. - she hissed in frustration.

-Onigiri, minigiri, oonigiri,…-you sing-songed, eyeing the rice treats, but she abruptly slapped the plastic bag against your face, cutting off your playful chant.

-How could you hinder a sick per…- you began, but your voice faltered as your eyes caught sight of something. The words dried in your throat as you stared at the characters scribbled on the bag.

Unknown number

< [ × - × 03:06 a.m. ] 

[ 眠れる森の美女 ? 06:32 a.m. ] >

[sickstarlight]

im gonna actually post this fic on ao3 at some point bc my sense of shame is broken but since im still workin on it have some REAL good descriptions of nausea

For the first half an hour of the session, it’s little more than a vague discomfort, which is occasionally enough to make him shift uneasily in his seat but nothing so intolerable as to occupy his thoughts entirely. More irksome, in fact, than the dull queasy feeling in his gut, is the growing dread prickling at the back of his neck and making his chest feel tight. He tries to shove it away and ignore it, tries to focus on the debate going on in the room around him and not the needling anxiety that he really might be ill. For the most part, it works. 

Midway through the meeting, though, the feeling begins to rapidly get worse; in the span of a few minutes, what had started as a heavy, tight feeling in his stomach becomes an unpleasant churning, as if he can feel the muscles working to digest everything he’d eaten for breakfast. Despite his best efforts to keep it under control, he can feel his breathing quicken. He swallows hard and grits his teeth against it, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on D--- across from him. 

He will not be sick during a ------ session, he tells himself, as if by repeating it enough he will make it true. He will not. He will not.

But the churning in his stomach only becomes harder and harder to ignore, as does the panic rising in his breast. He’s sure that M---- and P----- on either side of him can hear his heavy breathing, if not the gurgling sounds rumbling up from his belly into his throat; he wonders if anyone can see the sweat breaking out across his brow. The urge to cover his mouth with one hand is almost irrepressible, and he only fights it through sheer determination not to draw attention to himself and his painfully obvious vulnerability. 

Just until the recess, he tells himself silently, though his every instinct pleads with him to run, to get out of here now before he makes an utter fool of himself. If he can just keep his body from completely revolting against him until the recess, perhaps he can escape this nightmare with his dignity intact. 

His stomach has started to feel as if there are serpents writhing in it, and he feels as if his heart is in his throat, which only makes the urge to gag worse. Saliva pools in the bottom of his mouth, hot and acidic, but with a great effort he swallows it down. His palms are slick with sweat, his hair plastered to the back of his neck; he feels in turns very hot and very cold. Feverish, he thinks dimly, when his thoughts become coherent between waves of nausea. He must be feverish. He wonders if his face is flushed or simply pale, and which would be more noticeable. 

If he were thinking more clearly, perhaps it would occur to him that he’s no longer contributing even his attention to the meeting, let alone able to actually chime in on whatever debate is happening now, but all he can manage to keep in his mind is the mantra that has become his singular goal for the next few moments: don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t throw up. He can’t be sick in front of the others, not to mention the civilians watching from the balcony. He won’t. 

He doesn’t even hear L----- finally call for a recess; it’s not until he actually sees the others start moving, stretching and rising from their seats, that he realizes he’s free to go. At once, he’s on his feet, and the movement makes his stomach lurch up into his throat, threatening to spill his breakfast onto the floor. With a last great show of willpower, he gulps back the gorge rising in his throat and flees the room, dignity forgotten entirely in his haste to escape the eyes of his peers before the worst of it overtakes him.

[unicyclehippo]

as someone who is also in fever recovery, i send a wish that you feel better and the word: acumen

thank you, feverish friend, i love you i hope you are feeling well <3 this is for you

//

high on the hill where the crows do not fly stands a house and a family that cannot die.

//

'uh - mister pock o'pea?'

there was a man at the door. barely. a young man, an intern in an ill-fitting suit and his first tie, talking to chetney even though he had made it perfectly clear he wasn't to be disturbed or interrupted in his goddamn wallowing. jesus fucking christ. a decade of work gone down the drain.

'what.'

'you got a call. from her.'

chetney didn't lift his head from his stack of files. they smelled of dense paper and ink and stale coffee. it was a scent that had always reassured him; it was the scent of industry, of hard work, of forms and files in triplicate and a paper trail being chased down but now it was just... nothing.

'what the fuck are you talking about?' he sighed. 'listen, if this is about the case, you can tell whoever it is - world news, i bet, they've been up our ass for weeks - tell them that it's over, alright? it's over. we're done.'

'no, sir - it's not a reporter. it's her. briarwood.'

chetney's head snapped up. 'delilah?'

'laudna.'

'laudna,' he repeated, turning the name over in his mouth. he hadn't had many dealings with the woman but those he had, chetney had walked away with a sour taste on his tongue. defeat, always, but also a horrid sinking gut feeling--for himself, for the world, and a little bit for her, too--that she was her parent's daughter through and through. for as bright as she was, there was nothing new in her--she was a creature of her father's design, dressed in her mother's striking fashion and features (and disdain). but this? this was new. 'what did she want?'

'to talk. said she wanted to tell you everything--confess, she said.'

'what?'

'i know. gave us a weird address too.'

'did she say what she wanted in return?'

'no, sir. just that chetney pock o'pea come see her at this address, as soon as possible, and she'd confess.'

chetney smiled wryly. 'does that sound like a trap to you?' he asked, even as he stood and grabbed his coat. at the intern's dumbfounded look, his smile widened. 'call me curious,' he shrugged. 'i've spent half my life chasing this family. ten years i've on this case alone--so if the heir to the throne wants to talk to me...i want to hear what she has to say. oh - but if you don't hear from me by, say, six tomorrow morning...'

'we'll send someone after you.'

'i was going to say look for my body off the coastline because that's plenty of time for the grim ripper to do whatever she wants with me.'

'uh.'

'lighten up, kid. it's a fucking joke.' chetney swung his office door closed, locked it. 'mostly.'

//

the taxi dropped him at the end of the street, refusing to take him any further.

chetney pock o'pea trudged up the hill through a cold mist until he came to a small house--even by today's cramped standards. the pavement leading up to it was cracked. tough weeds had shoved up through the concrete and died. trees had grown in the garden just long enough for their bark to twist into unsettling grimaces and the branches to hang, leafless and menacing. the house itself was old and horrid. it sagged like an ancient pumpkin, insides all rotted away to soft fluff. the stairs did not creak beneath his feet as he climbed onto the porch; instead, they squished, black water seeping out and dripping down into the dead grass.

chetney knocked. there was no answer. he tested the knob - unlocked - and pushed the door open, coughing into the dust that billowed up the instant he did so. it tasted like a billion health code violations.

'hello?'

for a long moment, silence.

chetney stood at the door, tensed, waiting to be attacked. he had his doubts that the woman was even here--why would the heiress step foot into this place, rundown as it was? but he couldn't deny the evidence in front of his eyes. clear as anything - a set of footprints leading deeper into the house, marked distinct against the dust that blanketed every surface.

'hello?' he called again.

the house wasn't large. four rooms, five at a stretch. he could see from his place in the hallway a sitting room directly ahead of him--a low fire crackled but it lent no heat to the chilled space--and there was a kitchen to his left. the door to his right was closed.

a figure moved in the sitting room, standing out of a low chair. it moved away from the firelight, disappearing out of sight. chetney inched backward to the front door - and then laudna briarwood stepped into view, framed by the doorway. her face in deepest shadow as the firelight flickered.

'mister pock o'pea,' she said, and with a tilt of her head the light found her and her welcoming smile and there was nothing unsettling about her at all but chetney still felt every alarm in his system go off. 'i wasn't sure you'd come.'

'yes, you were.'

her smile grew. 'i hoped you would. you've proved yourself remarkably dogged, chasing down my family's dirty laundry, turning over every stone in our path.'

'yeah, well, no point in it anymore. my case is dead. oh relax - i didn't mean it like that, don't look at me like that. just meant the judge's basically come down on your side already, what with the deaths and all. even before all that. was he in your pocket all along?'

'i'm sure i don't know.'

'right. like it wasn't the first thing the grim ripper did when you found out who'd be presiding.'

laudna shook her head. 'perhaps she did. it certainly sounds like her, is certainly within her capabilities. but i truly cannot say for sure - and that isn't why i asked you here.'

'right. you're confessing,' chetney said, and wandered forward into the house. 'boy, i sure would love that. one of you lot on record for something. a dream come fucking true.'

'what a way with words you have, mister pock o'pea.'

'agent.'

'agent,' she amended, and smiled like he was foolish to be concerned with such things. 'well. a dream come true, then. come in, take a seat. can i pour you a drink?'

'no. thanks.'

she led him into the sitting room and gestured for him to take a seat on the couch. he sat. the fabric was cold, a chill beyond the weather. a chill like no one had sat there in a decade. and the house was so small. maybe it was the dust, but he felt like the light of the fire didn't reach as far as it ought to, didn't burn as bright. the air felt heavy, the way it always did before a storm. chetney rubbed his nose. watched as laudna briarwood crossed to a drink cart and plucked a bottle of wine out of the mix. it was old. looked fancy enough. he was sure it was worth millions.

'i'm sure you think i've lured you here with nefarious intentions,' she said, perfectly conversational. 'i don't know how reassuring this might be but please, let me assure you that my motives regarding you are far from nefarious. i am truly glad you came, agent.'

'yeah, well, when the daughter of the most powerful man in the world invites you to a secret location, promising you everything you ever wanted...'

'you turn up with a tape recorder and hope for the best?' his hand twitched for his pocket. 'do relax, agent, i'm not upset. i have the highest regard for you and that would only have been diminished if you hadn't brought something. i enjoy your dedication to the classics, as well. a phone simply isn't the same as a tape recorder. ah - and you can keep it running, if you like. if you need my permission. i'm not sure what you can do with the recording afterwards but i won't stop you.' she poured as much of the wine into her glass as would fit. then, she set the bottle down and, eyeing him thoughtfully, poured a second drink. scotch. a generous three fingers into a crystal glass. she brought it over to him, holding it out between spindly fingers until he took it. 'i'm not, by the way.'

'not what?'

chetney searched for a place to set his glass. no way he was going to drink it - she'd probably poisoned it.

'his daughter.'

chetney froze. in all his years following the family, learning their every secret, was it possible he had missed one as big as that?

'please, don't strain. it's not worth it. i'm going to explain - i'll tell you everything, in fact, everything that happened. every shady deal, every blood-soaked contract, every death on our conscience.'

laudna took her seat opposite him, on a red cushioned armchair. it was deep and soft and obviously hers, for she was wonderfully comfortable in it, resting her glass on the arm of it and tucking her feet up onto the seat beneath her. she regarded him for a moment.

chetney looked right back.

her hair was down. he'd never seen her with her hair down, without the severe bun that she and delilah both favoured. without it, she didn't look all that much like her.

laudna swirled the drink in her hand. the liquid in it was dark, a red so deep it was almost purple.

'lets start this properly, shall we?'

'yeah.' chetney dug the recorder from his pocket and set it onto the side table, microphone directed toward her. it would pick him up clear enough just by virtue of closeness and he didn't want it to drop one word of her confession. 'agent chetney pock o'pea, here with laudna briarwood, who has consented to being recorded. would you state that again for the record?'

laudna smiled. she leaned forward ever so slightly and, in a crisp voice, announced, 'i am laudna briarwood and i have consented to agent pock o'pea recording our conversation.'

'the date is october thirty-first, twenty twenty-three. the time is -' chetney twisted his wrist. '- eleven twenty-three p.m. okay, miss briarwood. take it away.'

'thank you, agent. i suggest you get comfortable - this may be a rather long story. like i said, it is my confession. our confession, if you like. i'm sure i shall reveal enough that you may find my whole family guilty of everything that you accused us of, and yet more besides that. we are rather lacking in people to prosecute now, however. what with all the deaths and all, as you so succinctly put it.' laudna raised her glass and drank. savoured. a drop of red clung to her bottom lip. she pressed her thumb to it and swept it away. 'forgive me for delaying. if i'm being honest, i'm not entirely sure where to begin.'

chetney inched forward, elbows propped on his knees. the taste of the hunt was back in his mouth. 'why not the beginning? that day in the courthouse.'

she laughed. 'that was far from the beginning, agent pock o'pea. but,' she inclined her head, 'as good a place to start as any. very well. it all began that morning, when the briarwood family gathered to attend the first day of our trial. the case you brought against us. the case you brought against Whitestone.'

//

high on the hill where the crows do not fly stands a house and a family that cannot die. they traded much for power, glory, and gold but the price comes due for what must never be sold.

[roboraindrop]

Just some silly comfort writing, don't mind me dkdbsksh

--

The sounds of coughing echoed through the halls, and Fenn cringed. He had gotten really used to the sounds of coughing over the last few weeks, what with Eddie being sick, and now Rain's illness. There was something different about these coughs, though, and it made ice flow through his veins.

"You okay? Here," Fenn nudged the cold bottled water towards his partner, "Take a drink when you can." He rubbed Rain's back as they continued to cough.

"Damn, think you can cough any louder? Sounds like you're hacking up a hairball." Chucky laughed, gaining a glare from Fenn.

"If you're not gonna help me take care of them, could you at least leave them alone?" The ex-con snapped at the killer, "They're feeling bad enough without your mouth."

"I am helping!" Chucky defended, pointing with the remote to the TV, "We just watched all 10 Saw movies!"

Fenn rolled his eyes, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Yeah, the guts and gore really cured them." Frustrated, he continued, "They're sick! Would it kill you to show a little concern for their wellbeing?" Maybe he was overstepping into their relationship, but Rain was the light of his life- he couldn't imagine a world where he didn't show his concern and love for them every single moment he could. "Y'know, one of these days Rain is gonna need to know that you actually care about them."

This seemed to strike a nerve with the killer. "Hey, the kid knows that I care!"

"You sure have a damn funny way of showing it," Fenn responded, looking down to Rain when their coughs subsided and they drank their water.

"Guys, please," Rain said softly, hating the sound of their two loves fighting, "My head hurts..."

"Sorry, babe," Fenn said softly, pressing his lips to their forehead briefly, "We're all done now. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a truck," Rain answered, the energy they had felt earlier quickly being replaced with a lethargy common of their illness. "I think my fever is coming back."

Fenn reached out, placing a hand on their forehead with a frown, "Yeah, you are pretty hot..."

"No comment," Came Chucky's retort, a smug smirk on his face.

Fenn rolled his eyes, keeping quiet on this remark for Rain's sake. "Come on, babe. Let's get you back into bed."

--

It had to be close to midnight when Rain awoke, the gentle whimpers of their misery able to be heard throughout the room. Fenn was fast asleep in the chair next to the bed, arms folded over his chest. He had been up all day taking care of his beloved partner, and he was pretty damn tired.

Rain knew this, so they didn't call out for him when the feverish chills began to wrack their body yet again. They stayed quiet, ready to suffer in silence... Until they felt a presence settle in beside them.

"Alright, alright, hey, knock that whimpering off. Come here." They turned to see Chucky climbing into the bed, arms opened. "Come on," He muttered, "Get over here."

Rain did as they were instructed, resting their aching head against his chest. The room spun slightly, but they clung to Chucky as if he alone could keep them anchored.

This made the killer's chest ache in a way that he hated. Rolling his eyes a little, he stroked their hair. "Look, I'm not good at this caretaker crap, that's what you're around for."

He thought silently for a moment about how true that really was; It was always Rain taking care of him, or Fenn, or one of the others. They always seemed to want to take care of someone, and he never could figure out why. The clinging, the cuddling, the sappy words, it was all too touchy for him. And yet, there he was, holding them.

"Just look at what you're doing to me," Chucky grumbled for a moment, then watched as their face went from pained to a soothed smile as he threaded dexterous fingers through their hair. He never had that affect on anyone- But Rain never had been normal. They were a bit of a fool. An overly trusting fool who liked to hang around - and at this moment find comfort in - a killer like him. He had to admit, though, it felt kind of nice, being depended upon.

Rain's breathing started to ease and even out, and they had fallen asleep before he could tell them to do so.

"Crazy kid," Chucky muttered to himself, rubbing their back and feeling their warmth, "That dumb ass taste in men is gonna get ya killed..." His tired eyes flicked quickly over to Fenn, who was still sound asleep, "Eh, maybe not all of 'em... You got a few good ones." His eyes grew heavier, and he stifled a yawn. It was getting harder and harder for the killer to stay awake between the late hour and the warmth of his love in his arms.

--

The sun rose high, light pouring into the room where the three lay. Fenn, always the early bird, was the first to rise. He had just stretched his stiff muscles and decided that he definitely wasn't going to be using that chair as a permanent bed anytime soon, when he noticed that Rain's bed was occupied by more than one person.

The ex-con stood up slowly, not wanting to disturb the scene in front of him; Chucky and Rain with their limbs entangled, fast asleep together. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened in the night, and Fenn couldn't repress the smile that built on his face. He leaned in cautiously to feel Rain's forehead and found it sweaty and cool; Their fever had broken.

"Look at you go," He smiled, brushing their hair back before straightening up and placing his hands on his hips, "That's two stubborn things you've broken in one night."

[klapollo]

i keep wondering if i have a fever bc ive been chilled to the bone for like two hours. but i dont feel FEVERISH, just extremely cold. any uncovered skin i have is icy cold. my face barely feels room temperature, let alone hot. i had a fever last month and i knew in my gut it was a fever -- my heart rate was high, i was shivering, my face and body felt hot even while i had the chills, so badly that i was standing in front of the AC for relief even while it was giving me goosebumps.

i had a drippy nose yesterday (after having sinus issues all week) and my covid test was negative. i dont really FEEL sick beyond how freezing i am (and extreme cold makes me feel very gross, i used to get frozen out in my old apartment and it'd make me think i was sick until i was able to get somewhere warm)

i dunno. i just dont know what to do. if i DON'T have a fever, then what exactly do i do about this lol i have nowhere else to go. my parents house is warm but i rly dont wanna risk getting my dad sick. i'm just scared something horrible is wrong with me and idk what it is

[nightskyfangirl]

Summary: Five and Luther get into a car crash. Luther is severly injured and Five has to save him.

Characters: Five Hargreeves, Luther Hargreeves, (others siblings briefly)

A/N: I'm reposting some of my Umbrella Academy fanfics from Archive of Our Own since the main site is down. If you see any mistakes/typos, I apologize, but this copy is from my backups and is not as edited as what is published on AO3.

--

It was the cold that woke Five. Not a slight chill, but a bone deep cold that he couldn’t shake.

Five remembered the crash, but his memory was foggy. He probably had a concussion.

It had been raining and Luther was driving. He and Five had been arguing about something stupid. Five didn’t even remember what it was about. Then Luther looked at Five and lost control of the car. Five remembered Luther’s hand shooting out, bracing Five stronger than any seatbelt. Then the car rolled and Five hit his head on the glass, passenger window.

Five opened his eyes, squinting at the light. It felt blindingly bright and caused a spiking pain in his head. Reasonably, he knew it wasn’t any brighter than normal, but the logic didn’t help dull anything.

They were in a ditch, but at least the car had landed right-side-up. The front of the car was dented in, and the windshield and Five’s passenger window were shattered. The rain was still pouring, and the wind blew it in through the window.

Five hadn’t been this cold since the apocalypse. Maybe that’s why he woke up. In the apocalypse, the summers were scorching, and the winters were sharp, biting winds and freezing temperatures. Cold like this was dangerous. He only had himself to rely on, no doctors, limited medicine. Cold like this could be a death sentence. And now Five wasn’t only cold, he was wet. His shirt was soaked through, his hair was dripping water down his face. Even his socks felt wet.

Five turned to his side.

“Luther?” Five asked, his voice coming out raspy. Five’s eyes were having trouble focusing. He reached out, smacking Luther’s shoulder. “Wake up, Luther.”

Luther slowly came into focus. Dark red blood covered half of his face from a deep gash on his forehead. Probably where he hit the steering wheel. Five reminded himself that head wounds bleed a lot even when they weren’t serious.

But then why wasn’t Luther waking up?

“Luther,” Five snapped, shoving Luther’s shoulder again. Light reflected off something at Luther’s waist. It was a long shard of glass, the length of Five’s forearm, sticking out of Luther’s gut, turning his shirt a dark red.

Five didn’t know if his brain was slowing down or speeding up, but either way it wasn’t working right. He felt like he was short-circuiting. He reached out one hand, straining to reach Luther’s neck. He searched for too long to find a pulse, but it was there. It was slow and weak, but there.

Five breathed out through his nose, willing his hands to stop shaking. How many times did he have to see his siblings almost die? Hadn’t he done this enough?

Five clicked his seat belt off. Luther didn’t feel as cold as Five and seemed to be radiating heat. Even when they were kids, Luther usually stayed warm but after Dad changed his DNA to match Pogo’s, Luther always radiated heat. Five wondered if it was his body fighting the DNA like an infection, keeping Luther mildly feverish at all times.

Five leaned across Luther to get a better view of the glass.

It was a piece of the windshield. At least that meant it was unlikely to break off inside Luther. Five took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around the glass, putting pressure on the wound.

Luther groaned.

“You with me?” Five asked. Luther didn’t respond. Typical.

Five kept one hand on Luther and did a quick scan of their surrondings. He couldn’t see far in the rain, but they were definitely in the middle of nowhere. All he saw were trees. There were no stores or houses. Five didn’t even know which direction to walk in to find help, much less how far. He knew they were getting close to the Academy, probably another 10 minutes before Luther crashed.

And Luther was heavy. Five couldn’t carry him and the car was definitely totaled. Spatial jumps with anyone was difficult, but someone Luther’s size would be nearly impossible in Five’s condition. And Five knew he couldn’t risk needing two jumps. He would have to stretch his powers and take them all the way to the Academy. That was miles away.  

Five was only getting colder. The air was cutting and, now that he didn’t have his jacket, there was nothing providing a barrier from the wind but his soaked shirt.

Luther hated spatial jumping with Five. He always claimed it made him nauseous for hours afterwards. But in his current condition, Luther wasn’t in able to complain.

Five frowned. “Brace yourself.”

He wasn’t sure if he was talking to Luther or himself.

Five kept one hand on the jacket wrapped around the glass in Luther’s stomach and put his other hand on Luther’s shoulder. He reached for his powers.

Normally his powers were at his fingertips. As soon as he reached for them, they were there, and he was able to pull himself to his destination. But now they were uncooperative. Five was exhausted and his teeth were chattering from the cold. Five pushed harder, fighting to reach his powers.

Eventually he caught it, feeling the destination on the other side. He pulled and he and Luther disappeared in a flash of blue.

***

Diego flipped his knife again before catching it in his palm. Five and Luther were running late. They had all agreed to dinner and Mom had spent hours working on it. There was a concert tonight and Diego understood that but would be nice if Five and Luther showed appreciation for Mom’s work. Instead, Allison, Klaus, and Diego were sitting in the living room waiting for Luther and Five to show while Mom’s hard work sat on the table.

Allison had insisted on waiting for Luther and Five and Mom sided with Allison. But Diego was still irritated.

Diego looked at the time. Dinner had been ready for 20 minutes and still no sign of the others.

“How long do you want to wait, Allison?” Diego asked. “They may not be coming.”

Allison rolled her eyes. “They’ll be here. They both live here; they have to come home at some point.”

After the apocalypses, they tried to work out a family dinner or outing once a month. They did smaller meet ups in between, but with Allison traveling to see Claire and everyone else staying busy with jobs or vigilante-ing, once a month was an accomplishment.

“All I’m saying,” Diego said, “is if they were hungry, they would be here. They’re adults. We don’t need to wait for them.”

Klaus pointed at Diego. “He has a point.”

Before Allison could reply there was a flash of blue in the foyer.

They all stood from their seats. Klaus made his way to the table, probably looking to get first choice at whatever Mom had made, but Allison and Diego walked to the foyer.

“What took you so long?” Diego asked as he turned the corner. Diego stopped.

Luther was on the floor and Five looked about to join him. A large shard of glass was sticking out of Luther’s gut and blood was already starting to puddle on the floor. They were both soaked to the bone. Five stumbled.

“Help Luther,” Five said. He lowered himself to sitting but his legs gave out halfway and he seemed to fall the rest of the way. Even sitting, he braced one hand on the ground as if to keep his balance. His pupils were blown wide, probably from a concussion, and his head was bleeding.

Despite his better judgement and Five’s history of hiding injuries, Diego listened to Five.

Diego rushed over to Luther, hesitating only for a second before putting pressure on the cloth wrapped around the glass. It looked like Five’s blazer which would explain why Five was only wearing his button-up shirt.

“Mom,” Diego yelled. “It’s Luther!”

Allison was across from Diego, leaning over Luther. She tapped his face, calling his name but he didn’t react.

“He been unresponsive,” Five said from behind Diego.

“How long?”

“I don’t know.”

Klaus walked into the room, followed by Mom.

“What happened?” Klaus asked. Diego didn’t know and Five didn’t respond.

Mom knelt beside Diego, gently moving him out of the way.

“I need to get him to the infirmary,” Mom said. “Can you go grab the—”

Allison was already gone before Mom could finish. Luther was too big to carry without help and Dad had invested in a strong gurney before he died.

“Five?” Klaus said. Diego glanced over his shoulder as Klaus crouched in front of Five. “You got a pretty good gash there on your head. Wanna tell me what happened?”

“Put pressure here, Diego,” Mom said, calling him back to Luther. Once his hands were putting weight on Luther’s injury, Mom moved to check Luther over for any other injuries.

“Luther lost control of the car,” Five said, dryly. “We went in a ditch.”

“Here?” Klaus asked.

“Few miles away, I think.”

Diego looked over his shoulder at Five. “You jumped a few miles? With Luther?”

Five met Diego’s eyes and blinked. He didn’t offer a response, but Diego wasn’t sure if it was Five’s way of saying Duh or if it was just the concussion at work.

Allison was back. She adjusted the gurney so it was a little lower and they wouldn’t have to lift Luther as high. Together, Mom, Allison, and Diego managed to get Luther on and then Mom whisked him away, Allison right on her heels.

Diego was about to follow when Klaus spoke up.

“I think we might need a little help, Diego,” Klaus said. “Can you stand Five?”

Five looked at Klaus, blinking slowly before nodding jerkily. Five struggled to push himself to stand, but Diego knew he wouldn’t appreciate help so he kept his distance.

As soon as he was upright, he stumbled backwards, almost landing on his ass again if Klaus hadn’t grabbed his arm.

“Okay,” Klaus said as Diego grabbed Five’s other arm. “To the infirmary. Just like old times.”

--

Please comment if you enjoyed <3

[knarme-stray]

cw boring post about me being ill with smth

I have this... Nausea that slowly became noticeable, rn just feeling it on the colon + guts level.

Forehead headache, mild but annoying asf.

Also this could be a neurological symptom, - when falling asleep, last night and today, I've had a sensation of a loud sound waking me up forcibly. If this is not just those spirits bothering me (there are bothersome spirits that come with me anywhere I go...), this could be a symptom called "exploding head syndrome".

Maybe COVID infection irritating my brain could cause the latter..?

But the sounds don't feel like they explode inside my head. They have an obvious direction and the sound itself is tied to objects, especially electrical devices in the room I'm in. This sounds more like typical haunting bs than exploding head syndrome...

(Idk, the only haunting I love is my grandma who is helpful, and has guided me when I asked for guidance, but the other ones... Are asshole pranksters that love to scare me and probably are just here to eat something from me. Idk. Needing better boundaries to exorcise these types of spirits entirely. Spirits, like people, are like this, - most of them have no business being in your home. Pray to the Source to feel warm, healing, reassuring energy. Pray for protection and let yourself feel welcomed in.)

Aaand...

That's all the symptoms and some waffle about paranormal going-ons in my life!

I fear this might be a Covid but I'm glad I'm not feverish. Also no cough. Mild throat irritation/ache, drinking cold water feels bad so I drink hot drinks instead.

Though I regret that very sweet juice and dried plums because... eugh.. too much sweet for me, made my blood pressure drop through the floor + worsened the nausea... 😔🪣

Trying to ask my body what do I need.

If you've read this far, I hope you've enjoyed my somewhat unhinged little diary entry on being maybe a little ill. lmao

Lemon water apparently. I do have lemon-infused salt, perhaps that'd fix some of this... Also basic water guzzling like the naughty fish I am, is another obvious thing.

EDIT: research reveals, citrus fruit and their juices are bad when nauseous!!! okokok.

[balladofaldelis]

PROMPTOBER 2023 DAY 11: HEARTSTRINGS

A little late oops, but something sick and twistedly romantic from yesterday

PROMPTOBER 2023 MASTERLIST

TW for Gore

Veladon has Corvus laid out on the operating table, his beautiful feathers drooping at his sides, his chest open. He wishes more than anything that he could be awake so he could press a kiss to those cold lips as he slides his hands beneath his ribcage, but he wouldn't want to risk bringing Corvus any harm.

Within his own hands is a beating organ. He'd removed it only shortly before, struggling without the assistance of anyone else, but he doesn't dare to bring anyone else to his theatre. This moment is sacred and personal, something that nobody else deserves to bear witness to.

He doesn't need a puny heart to live. The entity he'd made a deal with made sure of that much. But ever since it's been gone he hasn't felt the same, his body weaker, his chest feeling horribly empty. Pain runs through his body but it's nothing he can't handle. If he's so desperate for rest he can always get Wormwood to take care of him afterwards.

As he approaches Corvus his eyes flicker upon beautiful innards. He ghosts a hand over them, appreciating the neat way they sit within him, watching them pulse idly. Veladon smiles at his sleeping love, leaning in to kiss the lobe of his ear before straightening, standing over the man's chest.

He reaches in with one hand to move aside his guts, feeling the way they squirm as he pulls them as far as he can out of the ribcage and away from the heart and lungs, until there is a gap that he can work with. With focus Veladon takes his own heart, still pounding in his hand with life despite it being detached from his body, and slides it there underneath his lungs, right next to Corvus'.

He'll probably feel the obstruction at first, notice something is there, but any complications Veladon will happily see to. He leans in to press a kiss to Corvus' ribs as he moves everything back into place as best he can, making sure that his heart is snugly tucked in among his insides until everything is perfect.

Veladon feels that there is no better way to be close to Corvus than this, to be a part of him. Now he will never be without him, and Corvus never without him. He'll come to love it, to appreciate what Veladon has done to him. He'd been so compliant with being put under despite having no clue what was going to happen - he'll surely take this just as well. Veladon softens as he takes to stitching him back up, thinking fondly of those pretty lashes closed over his golden eyes, watching as his flesh and thin, underfed muscle comes back together.

Oh, how Corvus pulls on his heartstrings. Deluded, Veladon thinks that perhaps he will feel them for himself now, feel the way he makes Veladon feel with every sickly sweet word, with every brush of skin, every time he sees him.

When he's done, when Corvus is ready to be awoken, he reverses the medication flowing through his IV and sits at his side, waiting patiently, staring at his sleeping face with half-lidded, adoring red eyes.

Veladon clutches his chest, the pain turning to a dull thrumming inside, but he doesn't mind. Any pain is worth the feverish satisfaction that comes with being a part of Corvus, of crawling inside his chest to place himself there, to seal himself up inside of him. My sweet, perfect Corvus, he thinks, resting his head on his hand, watching Corvus' ear twitch, you have my heart now. Will you be kind to it? Will you be kind to me?

And as Corvus awakens, as he starts to take in the world around him, and finally as his golden eyes stutter, unfocused, over Veladon's face, he��smiles.

dividers: by saradika

[p0plotte]

Wanderer of The Stars

Stalker’s Tango - Autoheart

⚠️ CW FOR BLOOD AND OBSESSIVE//UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOR ⚠️

—•—

Dirty-blond colored strands of hair fell over ice cold blue eyes. He sat backwards on a chair, arms crossed over the top. Pale fingertips knocked rhythmically against the wood of the chair, nails brushing against the grooves of the sanded wood ever so often.

He looked down to the figure sitting below him like a poor, pathetic dog. The blue light that flooded the room from behind him highlighted the tips of almost everything. He brought his hand out to this pitiful creature and gently caressed its cheek. Their cheek. Her cheek.

“Maeve O’Belle.. pity the angel that must have gotten a terribly harsh punishment for making a mistake like you.” He murmured, almost in a whisper. “Not a word since you got here. Oh come now.. don't give me that look.”

The pale boy quirked a brow at a sudden movement of her hands. Sign language? Of course. That’s why she wouldn't say a peep. The sick grin on his face turned into that of a gentle smile in mere seconds as he brought yet another hand out to cup her cheeks and pull her closer.

“My name?” He sighs, “Is that really what you’re concerned about?”

She could feel her heart beating almost as fast as a race horse. The air was thick, her whole body was tensed. Though even with this factor, the moment her captor brought her closer she felt as though wherever his hands traveled was wherever she’d relax. Mayhaps it was a supernatural ability..

Or maybe, it was her. Maybe she was giving in. A feeling of spit pooled in her stomach, her mouth dry. She felt sick. Oh, so sick.

“…”

She stayed silent.

“Ciel Apocalypse.”

Ciel paused. The sour look on her face is returned by a teasing frown on his own. So she can hear but not talk? How intriguing. He set one hand back on the chair, the other gently lifting her chin to his eye level.

“You can keep a secret, right?” His face deadpans, “If not, I’ll fucking kill you.”

The way she shook with absolute terror after this proclamation brought a feverish excitement to him, guts churning with this addicting ecstasy. The hand from her cheek slowly moved down to her next till it reached the collar of her shirt. He yanked her up to eye level harshly, and still.. her eyes refused to meet his own.

“Why won't you look at me? Why? Why?.. WHY?!”

In an instant, the air from her lungs had been swindled away. She felt her back hit the wall, and without time to react the sole of bloodied shoes pressed down against her stomach like a knife in a stab wound. Vomit sputtered up from her throat, eyes watering, lips trembling. And now, of all times.

She made sure to look him in the eye.

“Now?!..”

A strained laugh escaped the androgynous boy’s throat. He knelt down to the blubbering mess of a mistake before him. There was this.. insane look in his eyes. One which couldn't quite be described by any exact word.

“May-May-Maevey-Maeve~! That won’t save you now!”

Squelch.

Thick red blood trickled down his fingers. He drew them back from her right socket, watching as the gory ball rolled from her skirt to the floor.

“This city will kneel to me. They’ll look me in the eyes and give me the respect I deserve without needing to be asked twice. You are only the first, Maeve O’Belle.”

[mikeysbabygirl]

𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐦, 𝐖𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐢, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐚

Summary : Grimm's fairytales all have a deep, dark meaning, right ? For Halloween, Lina said let's mix it with the Tokyo rev world.

𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐟𝐭.𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 (𝐟𝐭.𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨)

𝐑𝐚𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐳𝐞𝐥 (𝐟𝐭.𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐣𝐢)

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 ( 𝐟𝐭. 𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢)

𝐂𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 ( 𝐟𝐭.𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢)

𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧 ( 𝐟𝐭.𝐊𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐲𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐣𝐢 )

SPECIAL WARNING : This is Halloween content, some are kinda dark. Please don't read if you're uncomfortable with dark content.

Kidnapping, knife play ( Mikey's) , kinda somnophilia ( Kakucho's) , pervy Kaku, wild Hanma ( but we're used to it ), wild Draken, obsessed Mitsuya, manhandling.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨):

A beast, the mistake of a father, and the sacrifice of a daughter...

In a lonesome, magnificent palace of bones, the mad king was recluded. The mad king judged that the price of the greed of a father, was his dear, pure daughter.

And from your random days, you shifted into a golden cage, lullabies of the bird dying in between the growling corridors of Kanto Manji's penthouse.

Sapphire tears rivered from the alluring girl's eyes, but no gold could soothe the king's wreath.

So she starved her body, meals that the king's second, Haruchiyo brought her left untouched.

Drew the lines of her sad story on her wrists, and wrote down with the crimson of her body, the ache of in her mind.

-" You wanted it. " Manjiro's voice echoed through the empty room, the dinner on the huge table, once again, left untouched. He stared at the princess fading in front of him, just as the red rose of his curse.

Fine, if she wanted it rough. He stood up from his chair, making you startle.

And as if in slow motion, you watched his feline walk toward you, until he was standing behind you, hands around your delicate neck.

-" You begged me to spare your father, to take you. "

Manjiro was towering above you from behind, with horror,you looked at his veiny hands grabbing the knife from the table. You could only close your eyes tight, feeling the cold blade on your throat, Manjiro's manly fragrance on your neck.

-" I know so, so many ways to take you"

His hand around your neck tilted your head back, until your glassy eyes were deep in his dark ones, making the beast's heart miss a beat. He had no idea what that obsession was about, maybe something about your innocence, that his darkness burned to consume.

-" Do so. " You uttered, lips brushing against his, above you. And a knot in his guts was born. " I don't care anymore. Just,Do me as you pleased. "

Challenge, he read in your half-lidded eyes. You dared him to make you feel something, because you weren't feeling anything.

Suddenly, he got your back pressed to the table,and you were laying on top of that one with his hands around your throat. You gulped down, Manjiro leaned over you, darkish grin contorting his handsome features, and suddenly everything was muffled.

-" Speaking in terms,there's something I've been dying to do " he whispered, and you slightly wondered if fear was really supposed to make one feel as... High, as you did the minute his lips danced against yours.

Time was no more than a blur, your flesh smoked under his enflamed touches, carelessly, the beast tore down the woman's clothes, and her virtue was the feast on his table.

-" What are you... " You hesitantly asked, between two feverish kisses where he stole your lips.

-" Shh, I know what my pretty girl needs. " He shut you down, spreading your legs further open. On its knees, the beast started devouring the girl, making her scream, arch her back, hands in his hair.

-" Sir, can't take no more !"

A growl left his mouth hearing your moaned " sir " , his eyes bored up at you from where he was kneeling between your legs, giving a last open mouthed kiss to your clit.

-" Worry not, gonna make this tight pussy cum. But... "

His toned arm suddenly reached for that blade again, pressing it to your throat and hearing your gasp, Mikey placed his head on your lower tummy. Gaze of a lover on your exposed body, knife kissing your skin, his fair stands of her cascaded over his face in a charming, enchanting curse.

-" Don't you dare trying anything again, yeah ? Let's not have me hurting such a pretty face. "

-" Right, baby ? Let's not make daddy kill yet another angel."

But often in fairytales like this, the spell can't be broken. Invisible chains.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 ( 𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨)

A princess in deep slumber, and the lust of a lover...

Warning : non consensual kissing, slide to Hanma's part if you're uncomfortable.

Wasn't Izana's little sister, a succulent, magnificent creature ?

Kakucho lived for his king, but he also lived for moments like this, for watching you from afar, your lively gestures, your glow dripping smile, and the way you always seemed about to just steal the whole world with a bat of lashes.

And Kakucho knew Izana would never suspect his hidden feelings for his sister. His trust in his servant was unwavering, almost a burden too heavy to carry, if you asked Kakucho.

Izana never thought he'll find family again, until learning about the existence of his adorable step sister, his princess that he swore to protect with his life. And on evenings like this, where he had some business to run alone, the only one he trusted around her was Kakucho, for his great displeasure.

It was just beneath him, watching your chest rising and falling peacefully, lips parted, a dreamy sight while you dived deeper in Dreamland.

He was just supposed to watch over the house, and you, while you were sleeping on the couch in front of him. But the small sounds you were making in your slumber kept stealing his eyes, and the way you were squeezing those pretty thighs under that short skirt, kept his gaze captive.

You seemed in pain, you looked needy, rosey colored his cheeks imagining what you were dreaming of, staring at you, again and again rubbing your legs together.

He couldn't tell the exact moment where he found himself kneeling on the floor next to you, calloused fingers gently brushing away soft hair strands away from your delicate face. But he could tell the exact moment, when you parted your glossy lips open, and he leaned over.

His heart missed a beat, you tasted exactly like he thought you would, sweet, soft, plump. Kakucho released your lips, yet to realize what he had just done, but you whined, in your sleep, at the loss of contact, and he was a goner.

A kiss couldn't hurt, he told himself when he kissed you the second time. But holy damn it did, how your breasts were pressed against his chest while he was towering above you, his tongue insidiously caressing yours. It hurt his lower parts that he started to buckle against the couch, it hurt in his hand that began walking in the vaste lands of your skin.

-" Fuck..." It escaped his lips as a grunt, noticing the tiny damp deepening in your now exposed panties from moving so much on the couch.

The flames ravaged his guts, and yours too, he could tell, as his hand rested on your pubis, and a strangled moan escaped your lips.

He's been burned, by his devilish thoughts. Eyes flew open, and almost as fastly, Kakucho flew steps away from you, panting heavily, hand running in his hair.

-" What the... "

He couldn't even realize it, attach what he had just done to his self, he felt dirty, felt so bad that nausea weighed on his throat. How could you make a part of him, that he didn't even knew existed, emerge so easily ?

Horrifying.

He needed to leave.

The door called for him to run, and he answered, rushing toward that one. And as he turned around for a last look at your sleeping shape.

The sleeping beauty has been awaken by a lustful kiss.

𝐑𝐚𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐳𝐞𝐥 ( 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐣𝐢) :

A delinquent, an overprotective mother, and a princess who craved the outside world...

Your house, and Hanma Shuji's house was where the spirit meets the bones.

An avenue between the incandescent abundance you grew up into, and his dusty poverty.

As cliché as it seems ( often it is, in fairytales), Hanma's whereabouts were where your eyes liked to land. From your golden cage, his risky, high adrenaline world made your curiosity burn more than any of the brightest corners of your house.

Crescent was shining less than the princess's eyes that night, as again, from her exile tower, she watched the delinquent hiding from a police car, somewhere behind the corners of her house.

Rapunzel thought about her mother, how anxious she was to leave her on her own for the night, although she already was in her early twenties.

Your mother would hate the idea, it was enough for you.

-" Hey !"

Shuji's been startled, for a second thinking they found him and only registering the cute voice after few seconds. His eyes searched for the origin of the sound until you spoke again.

-" Here !"

Ah, the neighbor's daughter. That tight-ass, super hot, rich girl stepping out from Limo to Limo.

He tilted his head to the side curiously, wondering why you even were landing your eyes on him, until you gestured toward the bushes under your window. With anticipation, you stared while he approached the zone, brows furrowed when he noticed the ladder you were hiding there for your wild nights.

-" I can hide you " you shrugged from your window, making him even more confused.

But did he had the time to ask questions ? Absolutely not, hearing the sirens getting closer, he adjusted the ladder and began climbing, soon finding himself at your window.

The size of the mistake was gigantic, letting the monster in should have never occurred.

Hanma found himself in a lush portrait, shallowly eyeing the shiny things in your room, before his eyes landed on the true, real thing in there.

-" Why'd you helped me ?" He asked nonchalantly, brushing the dust away from his gang uniform. And there you stood, for a second inches away from him, confused.

Why did you helped him ?

-" Cause we're... Like, neighbors " you answered like it was an evidence, making him roll his eyes.

-" And so ?" He scoffed, you frowned. " It's not like aristocrats even care about us, the others ". Something in the way he said it had your frustrations rising, you made a step closer toward him, wrong.

-" That's untrue. We do care about you... I do care about you "

You uttered the last part lower, eyes dropping down, intimidated by the smirk that began curling the boy's lips.

Weren't you cute ? He thought. In your little silky pajamas, exposing the skin of your breasts to his hungry eyes.

Yes, the beast started craving the pretty princess, a carnivorous smile painting his features and the heat rushed to your guts.

What a cursed, horrifying, magnificent sight. His one blonde strand falling above his face after all the miles he ran, moonlight shimmering in his golden eyes.

Shuji nonchalantly began turning around you, testing your trust, watching as you tried to stay steady while he glided behind your back, pressing his body to yours. You shivered to the spine, feeling his warm breath hitting your neck, then your heart missed a beat when one of his hands flew to your hips, turning you and him toward the mirror on the wall.

A hand of him, punishment tattoo , wrapped around your throat, smirk widening feeling you gulping down.

-" Oh yeah ? So your telling me, this heart" his hand with the sin tattoo rested on your left breast. " Isn't beating like crazy now ? You telling me you not scared of the big bad Shuji ?"

You should, you undoubtedly should. Yet the sight of him behind you, the height difference between you two, sin on your heart and punishment wrapped rope-like around your throat, you were mesmerized.

-" Uh uh " his smile widened even more, thinking just how much he wanted to ruin that cute face of yours. " you do not scare me, Shuji. "

His name rolling on your tongue, then he lost it. Smell of you drawing his mouth closer to your neck, brushing his lips against the sensitive skin. You sighed, closing your eyes, fear and excitement dripping from the same root inside you.

You are not scared.

-" How brave, lamb. " He murmured, placing kisses on your throat, then with no warning, his sin hand closed rather harshly around your left breast, drawing a sound halfway between a gasp and a moan from you.

-" What a pretty, dumb little lamb..."

Your eyes flew open, feeling him pressing you even more against him, feeling a solid thing pressed to your back, Shuji chuckled noticing your wide-eyed gaze on him.

-" What is it, pretty ? Don't you know what these tits, in these fucking tight clothes, do to me ?"

He could almost feel guilty, seeing the heat rushing to your cheeks. Almost. If you didn't taunted him that bad, maybe.

But you in his arms that way, he knew and wouldn't deny it, was the most precious thing he had ever held.

-" So innocent, such an angel... " He teased, thumb rolling over your hardening nipple, you had to bite your lip to restrain unwanted sounds, but he felt you unconsciously pressing yourself against him.

-" 'm dying right now. Dying to fucking ruin you " he smiled against your cheek, enjoying just how soft your skin were,and though your mouth stood closed, in your hands reaching for his, in your eyes, he could read a thousand do it.

-" You gonna let me ?" His hair strands tickled your neck,you watched as his head rested on your shoulder, golden eyes eating your face raw.

-" is my lamb gonna lemme get that tight pussy ? "

You're yet to realize that what you let inside was far from being Flynn Rider.

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 ( 𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢) :

A sick grandma, a grand daughter in red, and a wolf...

The girl in red has seen many things in her life, and went through many muddy paths before. You actually thought you knew the darkest corners to that jungle of town like the back of your hand.

But yes, a jungle, that was what Roppongi was. And the strongest devours the weak, you were yet to realize.

Walking on your grandma crying, nevertheless, was not something you remembered you ever been through. That one was a sunshine, even after she got sick, you've never saw her complaining about the hospital's bills or the pain.

Her flowers shop was her happiness, therefore, you were quite shocked when she told you she was about to close it, then, she explained..

You've witnessed them talking to your grandma before, and you always wondered what that type of guys were doing in a flowers shop. You should have known.

The girl in red, today, walked a new scary woodland, one she would eventually get lost in.

You knocked at the door, and soon, the guy, probably in his twenties opened it.

You knew him for being the older brother, brown and blonde braids, insidious lavender eyes, how could you not remember ? When everytime he was at the shop, you could feel his lavender haze lingering around you?

-" What do we have here, hm ?"

Ran's lazy smile crept up back on his face, his eyes glided down your leg's skin under that red fall dress of yours.

-" I'm here to talk about my grandma's shop." You announced quietly, yet he could not miss how your hands were shaking behind your back, smirking, he answered.

-" I'm all ears, sweetheart. "

Wrinkling your nose slightly, you let that one slide and raised your head, seeking for some inexistent confidence.

-" You can't keep threatening her to give you money. She has hospital bills she has to for, do you delinquents have no other way of making money ? "

Your words got stolen from your mouth, as soon as he left the doorframe making a step toward you. Ran Haitani towered above you, that smirk leaving his face making place for a weary expression.

-" First of all, we did not threaten her. The money is for... Protecting the shop, you know, against Roppongi's delinquents. " He cooed, you rolled your eyes. " And most importantly, go for it again, would you ?"

You frowned, he raised an eyebrow.

-" Try again telling me what I can and can't do, go ahead. 'm waiting. "

He saw rebellion, fire in your eyes that wanted none but to burn him alive. But he saw submission in the way your mouth opened and closed a few times, searching for your words before you realized there was no other way, your eyes fell to the ground.

And somehow, he liked that. He liked that despair on your pretty face.

You almost got startled when his finger raised your chin, so you were staring right at the wolf's opal eyes, his face inches away from yours and his whisper, under his heavy gaze made the heat rush to your lower tummy.

-" But i think... " Ran's thumb glided on the silk of your lips, enjoying your wide pretty gaze on him.

-" I can do without the money, for my pretty girl".

In the original tale of the little red riding hood, the wolf devoured the girl. And there was no one to save her.

In this version, she wanted no one to save her.

-" So fuckin' tight..."

Ran grunt against your neck, you winced, feeling him sinking inside you until he got you rolling your eyes. He, in bliss, drank in the mesmerizing faces you were making, in the way your smaller body molded against his bigger one, he began rolling his hips throwing his head back and sighing loudly.

-" Precious baby feels so good, d'you know just how much I was craving ya?"

You were too spent to even nod, sinking your nails in his back's skin. Everything about him, from his braids tickling your neck to his lips collecting yours, to his hips slamming inside you was like diving in pleasure's black hole.

-" feel how you're clenching 'round me, love. You like em bad guys , don't ya ? Such a... Pretty whore "

His hands were big, the better to hold your thighs. His smirk too, the better to devour you, and when with a deep thrust of him, Ran sent you to overdrive, you understood.

-" That's it, m'baby. Cum on me, make a mess, I'm here for it... All of this to help your grandma, hm ? Such a good fucking girl "

You understood you should go for the wolf. He can see you better, hear you better.

And eat you better.

𝐂𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 ( 𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢) :

A masquerade,a prince looking for his princess, ans some lingerie...

Takashi Mitsuya thought he'd seen it all, years of working by the most pretty faces, dressing many women bodies, nothing could phase him anymore.

Or he thought.

Everything changed during one fashion show. Valentine's masked fashion show.

Everyone praised the Idea he had, for valentine's day, throwing a spectacular fashion show, many pretty girls of different body sizes walking in splendid lingerie. Some weren't even models, just random girls chosen to emphasize the female's body beauty. And no one would deny, having the girls wearing masks added mystery to the beauty, it was almost... Enchanting.

He eventually came to regret the idea, when his heart beat like a broken drum, and his eyes were naturally drawn to the girl who wore his most magnificent piece.

And since then, everytime he closed his eyes to sleep, you were there, walking in your mindblowing black lace bra and panties, shiny pair of eyes glimmering behind that mask. And the tiny smile you launched toward him right before walking back.

He'd tried telling himself it was none but the effect of not knowing who's hidden behind the mask, or could it be the fact that you were wearing his best creation, but he tried, and no matter how more of his models wore it after you, it wasn't just right. It was just about how in less than one minute, Takashi could learn every edge, every mole, every detail of your body.

Hakkai had enough of seeing his best friend's head in the clouds, tonight was for letting go, for forgetting and that what made him drag Mitsuya in his favorite striptease club.

-" Hold on, i know the perfect girl. That chick can literally make you forget about anything" Hakkai enthusiastically exclaimed, disappearing right after. Takashi sat in one of the booths, tiredly rubbing his eyes. He should be sleeping, why in hell did he let Hakkai bring him in that noisy place ?

As the idea of running away kept creeping up in his mind, his eyes caught sight of his best friend, from the bar, raising both his thumbs at him.

-" Huh... ?"

He soon froze, a shadow towering above his sitting form, and his lavender eyes met the stripteaser Hakkai was talking about.

Just you and your black set of lingerie, you and the moles, the details, the edges to your body, you who bend over to cup his face, your cleavage popping out right under his gaze.

-" Such a pretty boy... " You whispered in a low, cute voice that he thought was killing him slow. Mitsuya gulped down when your legs parted to stand on top of him, beginning to sway your hips for him, he couldn't keep his eyes away from your face.

No he was wrong to think it was the magic in the mystery, that as soon as he would see your face, that craving would vanish like the sun behind the clouds. Nothing could make the sun vanish, it burns, and burns insidiously, making everything gravitate toward it.

And you knew, he could tell, observing the smirk on your face.

But Cinderella's prince wasn't really one, she was yet to realize, when he pulled her by the wrist to sit on his lap, feeling the bulge of him between her legs. Mitsuya leaned over, face close to yours with his thumbs resting on your cheeks, his raw voice murmured.

-" Been looking for ya everywhere, you know that, hm ?"

It was fascinating, how with a simple smile, you manage to steal his heartbeats as much. You nodded.

-" was actually fun to see the prince making all the ladies try the shoe " you joked, catching the wolfish smirk curling his beautiful lips.

-" You're so fucking cute, thinking you're real smart right now..."

That is basically when Cinderella ended, with the prince carriage leaving with both of them in.

But the truth is...

That was only where the "fairy" part of the fairytale ended.

Because after midnight, Cinderella and her prince were still in his car.

-" Princess's so pretty... already going dumb on my cock " Takashi had his arms behind his head, biceps popping up, half-lidded lavender eyes and the corner of his mouth slightly pulled up, watching you struggling to ride him.

-" Taka', help me... Please, wanna cum-"

You were shushed by his hand abruptly squeezing your cheeks together, stern glare on you.

-" Sir. For you, it's sir."

-" Sir, wanna cum, please, can't take no more !"

And it was true, your thighs were burning from bouncing on him, your cunt aching from his impressive length. You watched the smirk in his pretty face widening, thumb rolling over your lip.

-" Hm, my pretty girl wants me to fuck her pussy better, doesn't she ?" You nod eagerly, relief painting your face before you realized.

The "fairy" part of the fairytale ended.

-" It's okay baby, i got you. " His hands circled your hips, bruising grip on your bare flesh he adored so much. Your eyes widened when with a forceful thrust, he hit a spongy spot inside you, making you cry out.

-" but don't you dare complain. My dick's been aching to ruin you, jus' be my good girl and take all of me, yeah ?"

𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧 ( 𝐊𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐲𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐣𝐢 ) :

A low class lover boy, a rich princess, and her hand promised to another...

-" I don't honestly know why it keeps breaking down, the other mechanics don't know either. Guess you're the only one who knows how to speak to my bike " the shorter guy joked, earning a smirk from Draken who was squatting down next to the bike.

If he only knew...

-" Meh, don't worry dude, I got you " Draken answered.

That the only reason why it kept breaking down...

-" Ain't he the best ? Always ready to save the day. " The rich old man gestured toward Draken, his son in law nodded.

Was because Draken did it in purpose just to see you ?

His eyes naturally drifted toward you, on the other side of the giant yard, sunbathing on a deck chair by the pool. His eyes glided down the single drop of sweat rolling between the valley of your breasts.

-" Ken... " he remembered how your small voice moaned his name, while his big hands hugged your waist on top of him, rolling his tongue over your nipple.

-" What is it that you need, love ?" He whispered, and he couldn't believe, as perfect as you are, how would you even look at him.

He had to look away, when you got ready to jump in the pool, popping up your butt in that bikini. They didn't notice.

He remembered, hands on those pretty ass cheeks, while he had you bent over your promised fiancee's bike.

-" Look how wet you are... Such a slut, dripping on ya man's bike. "

-" Ken, Ken it's too... Too much " oh with that voice of yours, choking on your words, he wished he could just kiss you until stealing the remaining breath in your lungs.

-" But he can't do this, can he ?" Draken's lips brushed against your ear, hand pulling your hair back. " He can't stuff this lil pussy like i can, can he ? No one can, yeah baby ? Can't have such a good girl moaning like a whore ".

So he came back, again and again. Watching another man, richer, classier, holding the hand of the girl he loved.

-" we got some business to talk about now " your father adjusted his suit, patting his son in law's shoulder. That one nodded. " We're gonna leave you to it, Draken. Thanks for coming again, son. "

-" No need, sir. You can count on me "

His eyes naturally found you again, drops of water dripping out of that body he loved so much.

-" Would you lemme take a pic ? " He murmured against your neck. " Have my pretty girl's pussy saved on my phone ?"

And he waved goodbye to your fiancee, a smirk on his face.

Oh he could count on him.

Not knowing that by the end of the fairytale, Aladdin would be running away with his wife.

With Draken's kid fucked inside you.

[onedaughterofman]

Night (Papa Emeritus x reader)

A/N: Based on a friend's request ♥ My first post here, be nice maybe?

Characters: Papa Emeritus (could be any of them, ig) x gender neutral reader.

Tags: +18, light dom/sub dynamics, org*sm delay. Around 700 words.

Hiding under the covers doesn’t make the demons go away. As far as you have learned, they enjoy the warmth of the blankets and the softness of the silky sheets, the mess of bodies laying on the mattress and the remnant smell of sex in the air.

As a demon, or just the mortal representation of the devil himself, Papa Emeritus is not different. Inviting him to rest by your side tonight was a dangerous game, especially if you actually wanted to rest.

“Papa”. Your voice is soft, barely a whisper over the sound of your gasps. On the skin of your neck, you feel his hot, humid breath as he exhales. There’s a deep, rumbling sound coming from his throat when you call for him again. “Papa, please.”

The rumbling sound becomes a growl as his teeth graze your neck, right over the veins. Your blood is pulsing, hot and full of ecstasy, to the point every nerve feels on fire. For a moment, you wonder if he’s going to bite you, to suck dark, purple bruises on your skin.

He doesn’t. Instead, his face moves away and his eyes focus on you, fingers never leaving the right spot in between your legs. “Please, what? ” Papa says, voice hoarse from the lack of use. “You know I need you to use your words.”

The teasing never stops. Instead, it slows down to the point his deft fingers only trace your most sensitive parts, sending shivers up and down your spine. Those deep, dark pupils focus on your own eyes, on every little twitch of your brows before falling down to your lips. They are a dark red color from the way you’re biting on them, trying to stop the moans from coming out of your mouth.

Papa doesn’t like that. Not one bit. “Speak,” he says, incorporating on his elbow and letting his other hand grab your face. The leather that covers his fingers feels cold, so cold on your feverish skin as it digs on your cheeks, forcing your lips to part. “I want to hear you, every little sound.”

Denying him of his wants is not an option, you know it clear as day. Looking into his eyes, you swallow the last part of your inhibitions and throw yourself deep in desire, in sin, in pleasure. “Papa please,” you repeat, “Let me come. I need you. I need all of you, so badly.”

It’s such a basic thing, such a lame, cliche phrase to say. You know you can beg better. Hell, Papa knows you can beg so much better, but tonight it was supposed to be a relaxing evening. Of course, your idea of relaxation and his idea were completely different.

The sound reverberates in the room when Papa clicks his tongue, finally letting go of your cheeks. His body accommodates back on the bed, hot and imposing next to yours.

Maybe it’s the desperation inside your eyes, or the way your skin shivers and your thighs shake, but something in him softens as he lets out a soft, airy chuckle. “It’s okay,” he states, at last, and his fingers gain strength between your legs. “I’ll allow it once. Then, you have to beg properly. Or else.”

And he’s a man of his word, fierce under the sheets, gripping your heart by the core. His fingers move fast, touching every spot he knows by memory, while his mouth goes back to your neck, licking and kissing with eagerness. His tongue traces over your artery, savoring the way your blood pulsates.

When he bites, hard enough to leave a mark, the electricity travels down your body, through your chest and down your stomach, seizing your guts and beyond as you come. And still, Papa doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, doesn’t let you off the hook until your toes curl and knees shake, making the bed move with every jerk.

Papa only gives you mercy when you cry out his name, fingers digging on his wrist. There are pleasure tears on the corners of your eyes and your legs still shake as his fingers travel up your abdomen, leaving a sticky, wet trail behind them. “Good,” he says. “You always behave so well for your Papa.”

Any smart retort dies in your throat. The post orgasm bliss clings to you as your eyes close, lids fluttering softly. Maybe he was right. Maybe this was indeed a way to relax and guarantee a good rest tonight.

If Papa decides to even let you sleep. The way he traces shapes on your skin, lower and lower, and the feel of his hard dick hitting your thigh tells you he might still have other ideas.

Pd: I’m ashamed lol. The ask box is open if you wanna talk! I'm new and looking for more ghost moots.

[oiks-milkbread]

They take care of you when you're sick

Warnings: throwing up (in atsumu's one)

Oikawa Tooru

It was a random thought, when you were a child you loved greek mythology, the first thing you read was the birth of Athena. You wonder if it was happening the same thing to you, were you going to give birth to some superior entity from your head? Because you imagine the pain Zeus felt was the same you were feeling now. The second thought that popped into your head was that scene from alien, instead of having chest pain you had a really bad migraine.

You hear the door opening, Tooru enters with various things in his arms. "Okay" he carefully put them on your desk "I have a bottle of water, you must stay hydrated. Here's the medicine, but the pharmacist said you can take it after eating, I brought you some snacks, in case you need sugar, but I have to cook you a proper meal", he sits on the edge of the bed.

You're looking at him with big teary eyes, "Does your head hurt that much, my love?", you nod, warm tears streaming down your cheeks. He gets closer and sits better to kiss those tears away. "It hurts so much I can't even be mad for losing an entire day" you cry, Tooru cups your face and kisses your forehead, "I'm going to kiss it better again and again, but first let me get you some real food, you'll feel better", his voice is so soft.

You press your head against the pillow, searching for some relief, while you wait for your boyfriend to come back with your dinner. You wish you could fall asleep, at least your eyes aren't dry after crying.

It doesn't takes too long before he comes back with a tray with a bowl of soup and some rice. "When you'll feel better I'll cook something different, maybe the curry you like so much" he apologises, "Tooru, this is more than enough", you sit up.

After eating and taking your medicine you lay on your bed again, patting on the mattress, "You promised kisses", you blush a little bit. Tooru loves when you're so needy, usually you try to do everything by yourself, like you were some sort of burden. He doesn't waste a second, he engulfs you in his arms and leaves a trail of soft kissed on your temple and then on your neck.

"What if my head cracks open and there's an alien" you joke, "You have to stop watching horror movies" he scoffs, "You have to admit it would be kinda iconic, not for you though. You wouldn't survive a second". He litterally kisses you on the mouth to shut you up.

Miya Atsumu

You never felt so gross in your life, that's what you think while splashing water on your face. You definitely don't like what greeted you on the mirror. You were pale as a ghost, your hair tied with the best bun Atsumu was capable of, your nails were blu-ish, hands trembling as you look at them.

You hurried out of the bathroom, getting under the cover of your bed. You were so cold, apparently throwing your guts out wasn't enough for your body, you were getting feverish too.

"I'm never going to eat again" you murmur, "You know I'm going to remind you what you just said when the stomach flu will be over, right?" Atsumu answers you, "like when you insist to go to that udon place", "You enjoy that restaurant too, 'Tsumu" you scoff, "and you're supposed to make me feel better, not to threat me with your reminders". He's wearing a mask, but you can tell he's smiling. "You're feisty, that's a good sign" he says leaning against the door frame, "But at some point you'll have to eat something, and drink too, "I don't want to" you protest, "And how are you going to survive?" he asks with a raised brow, "I'm going to become a plant...yeah. No more food, just light". "One, aren't you gonna miss noodles? Two, whatever you got, it passed from the stomach to the brain, you're clearly delirious" he laughs, "Stop mocking me, 'Tsumu" you frown. "I'm sorry, princess" he gets a little bit closer "You know I love you", "I know" you sigh "I love you too".

"I've finished the housechores" he says "now I'm going to the supermarket, the fridge is empty. If you'll survive on photosynthesis, I'll eat instead of you " he laughs. "I don't know how to thank you" you say shyly "you basically did everything for me, from holding my hair to doing my laundry". "My girlfriend is sick, this is the bare minum", at this point he would kiss you but he doesn't, of course, you don't want him to get sick too. "Plus, I'm probably a better housewife than you" he smirks under the mask, "You know what, I agree" you nod laughing, "What I would do without you, 'Tsumu?, he winks.

[breakyeol]

touch it (sensual oils)

one shot

┗ pairing : baekhyun x reader

words: 4k

warnings: smut, sensual massage, byun-booty, hand job, light overstimulation 

a/n; because baekhyun deserves it

Baekhyun had a bad day.

That much was glaringly obvious from the very moment he stepped through the door, looking about ready to crawl beneath your bedsheets and never come out. He collapsed into your arms with a pathetic whine the moment you rose from where you were situated on the couch, the full weight of his body thrown against your chest. You grunted at the unexpected impact, quickly wrapping your arms around his slim waist when you felt his knees beginning to give out.

“Baek!” You yelped, struggling feebly to support the both of you. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m too tired to stand,” he cried out dramatically, voice muffled against your shoulder, “my body feels like it’s turning into mush.”

You clicked your tongue at his familiar dramatics, a fond smile flitting across your lips in spite of yourself. “Oh my poor baby~” you cooed playfully, petting the top of his head, “they worked you into the ground?”

A heavy pout tugged at the corners of his lips, big droopy eyes swinging up to meet yours as he bobbed his head. “I’m already sore. I’m not gonna be able to move tomorrow.” He complained noisily, hands curling into tight fists around the material of your sweatshirt.

This close, you could easily make out the lingering scent of sweat clinging to his skin, and you didn’t doubt for a second he worked until he was drenched in it. There was a flash, an image that passed before your eyes, of Baekhyun, sweat rolling down the smooth slope of his chin, dripping from the fringes of his bangs, glistening enticingly above his brow, his mouth pink and open, gasping. It vanished just as quickly as it had come, and your attention was drawn back to the whining mess of a man squirming against your chest.

“Go shower,” you suggested, not trusting your voice above a careful whisper, “then come to bed, okay?”

“I don’t want to. Just hold me.”

You snickered, combing your fingers through the short hairs on the back of his neck, feeling the way his body melted into the tender caress. “I will gladly hold you for the rest of the night… after you take a shower.”

He only offered an unintelligible grunt in response, showing no signs of detaching himself from your body, his hold around you tightening in a display of stubborn resistance. There was little doubt in your mind that he’d keep this up for as long as your patience allowed – which, given how soft you were for the man, was a fairly long time –, but you knew you’d both be better off once he felt clean and refreshed, cleansed of the day’s many hardships.

“You’ll feel a lot better afterwards.”

A groan this time.

“I’ll make you feel a lot better afterwards.”

At that reparation, his head snapped up, eyes wide and, despite the exhaustion, glinting with a hint of excitement. His spine straightened, grip around you loosening somewhat as strength seemed to return to his muscles. “Really?” He whispered, pink tongue slipping out from between petal lips. So easy. You could’ve scoffed, but thought better of yourself, settling for a suggestive cock of your head that could be interpreted in a number of ways.

“Go shower,” you hummed, pinching his chin between your thumb and index finger and guiding his face down towards yours, “then… we’ll see.”

He let out a huff of breath, eyes going hooded as they flickered down to trace the smug curve of lips. “You’re mean.”

You laughed lightly, planting a kiss that was far too short for Baekhyun’s liking to his pouted mouth before skillfully untangling yourself from his arms. “We’ll see just how mean I can be once you come to bed.” You called teasingly over your shoulder, grinning in wild amusement at the low curse that followed.

It wasn’t too long after you’d made your way into the bedroom that you heard the soft hiss of the shower. You waited until you heard the low groan that told you that your boyfriend had finally stepped beneath the hot spray to permeate through the separating wall before you jumped into action.

This wasn’t the first time Baekhyun had come home looking ready to collapse and you doubted it would be the last. There wasn’t much you could do about him having to go to work. No matter what you said or how many times you told him he should give himself a chance to rest and recover, he would always put his everything into his work, because that was just the kind of man he was. He was all passion and fire and unrelenting persistence even when he felt like he might die. It was a quality that sparked both admiration and fear inside of you.

There was a certain helplessness that came with being the person he came home to after a long day of work, body and mind teetering dangerously on the brink of exhaustion. There wasn’t much you could do to ease his stress, as he wasn’t the type to verbally unload or express his unease to its full extent. Sure, he was dramatic, but only in a playful sense. That was his way of downplaying and covering up his true feelings, to both you and himself.

But, there were still other ways you could help. And, with some brainstorming and a bit of research, you’d come up with the perfect plan to help ease some of Baekhyun’s tension. Though, you had to scramble a bit to set the scene, you knew it would be fully worth it to see the look on his face.

It was just as you’d lit the final candle, completing the final touches, that you heard the shower shut off. Perfect timing. You quickly situated yourself on the edge of the bed, the cool air caressing your scantily clad body, rousing goosebumps across your skin.

But, the chills tickling your spine were little more than a second thought as Baekhyun stepped into the room donning nothing more than a towel that hung dangerously low on his full hips. He paused just inside the doorway, his brows shooting upwards as he took in the state of your shared bedroom. Wide eyes danced over the flickering candles laid out strategically across the hardwood floor to encircle the bed, swept over the scattered rose petals, before finally landing on you.

You, wearing a deep crimson lingerie set, a sheer silk robe, and nothing more.

His bare chest, still glistening with water droplets, rose sharply as his breath hitched. A low curse tumbled from his lips, almost too faint to hear over the seductive instrumentals pulsing from the speakers.

A satisfied smirk broke across your face at his reaction, pleased with yourself for having successfully caught him off guard.

“Surprise,” you sang, voice low and silken.

For a moment, he didn’t move, his own amazement rooting him in place as he visually inhaled the sight of you. Your skin was hot beneath the intensity of his gaze, blazing as it trailed torturously slow up the length of your body, not daring to miss a single detail.

A faint buzz of nerves fizzled in your gut.

You’d never done anything like this before. Presented yourself in such a way to him, that is. All wrapped up in silk and lace of only the most sensual nature, bathed in smooth orange candlelight that tickled your ankles and crept up the smooth length of your lower legs. This was something new for the both of you, something unexplored. But it also wasn’t everything you had in store.

When he moved, it was with the utmost cautiousness, as if stepping too quickly or too harshly might disturb the beautiful illusion spread before him. But still, he moved, unable to resist the temptation.

Without speaking, his hands found your face, curving around the shape of your jaw and winding around the back of your neck. They were cold against your skin, and you couldn’t suppress the shiver that rippled down your spine as he leaned over you. You let out a soft hum at his touch, head rolling back under his gentle coaxing.

Not a beat passed before his mouth found yours, eager and impatient. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, easily finding the smooth slope of his naked waist and tugging him closer. He moaned somewhere low in his throat, tongue slipping out to trace the seam of your lip. You allowed as much, indulging the hungry press of his mouth, the careful nips of his teeth — until he tried to lay you down.

Your palms met the swells of his chest, and he pulled away, breathless and confused. “What is it?” He asked hoarsely, licking over his swollen lips. You’d be lying straight through your teeth if you said he didn’t look irresistible in that moment, wet hair hanging messily over his brows, dark, hooded eyes, all haze and lust as they stared down at you heatedly, full cheeks blushing a feverish shade of red. But you had plans for tonight, plans you didn’t intend to discard for the sake of sexual pleasure.

“I’m not fucking you.”

He gasped, disbelief coloring his features. “What? Why not?”

“Because,” you grinned, settling your hands on his hips, “I’m going to give you a massage.”

“A massa— ah!” his words cut off abruptly with a high pitched yelp as you suddenly spun him around, all but throwing him down onto the petal covered mattress. He could only stare at you in shock as you crawled over his nearly naked body, mouth curved into a playful smile.

“A massage.” You confirmed, sounding rather proud. But, he still looked less than amused, so you elaborated. “You’ve been working so hard these past few weeks, and I know you’ve been stressed and your body is exhausted. A massage will help release some of that tension.”

“You know what else releases tension?” He asked, sinking his teeth into his lower lip. You cocked a brow, feeling the light press of his fingertips as they feathered over your thighs, taking an obvious path upwards. Desire and mischief swirled in his eyes, voice low and thick as the words dripped slowly from his dangerous tongue, “Hot… passionate… s—”

You snatched his hands from your skin before they could reach their destination, pinning them to the mattress on either side of his head. “Shut up and roll over.”

He huffed, pouting up at you scornfully but obeyed nonetheless, rolling onto his stomach. “Do you even know how to give a massage?” He snipped as you settled yourself on the back of his towel clad thighs.

“I’ve done my research.” You offered lightly, sparing a moment to admire the lithe, sinewy build of his shoulders and back before you moved, reaching for the tall bottle you’d situated on the nightstand earlier. He followed your movements from the corner of his eye, curiosity breaking through the petulant facade.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit cruel?”

“Perhaps,” you teased, pouring the translucent golden liquid into your palm, “but you’ll enjoy this, I promise. Just… relax.”

A defeated sigh escaped his chest, his body deflating beneath you. “Fine. But, this better feel better than sex or I swear to god I will—” he jolted with a soft gasp as you suddenly pressed the heels of your oil lathered palms into the area just between his shoulder blades and pushed outwards, “sue.”

You smirked smugly to yourself at the breathlessness with which he completed his sentence, obviously not having expected the pressure to feel that amazing.

“Good?” You asked, voice tinged with arrogance.

“Uh-huh,” he admitted immediately, moaning throatily as you rolled your thumbs deeply against the base of his neck, “oh fuck that feels so good.”

You chuckled, skillfully working your fingers across the planes of his broad shoulders. He melted deeper into the mattress with every knot you deftly unwound, soft, relieved moans breaking from his open mouth. The smooth, lavender scented oil glistened captivatingly on his sun-kissed skin, the delicate aroma gently permeating through your bedroom. It was a lovely, soothing smell, subtle and unimposing. You spread it diligently across the smooth expanse of his upper back, before gradually beginning to work your way downwards.

His sounds of bliss lowered in pitch the lower your hands reached, dipping into silky tenor groans when your hands reached the delicate dip of his waist. But, as you moved to massage the area just above his hips, he suddenly jolted, spine arching, a strained curse rushing from between clenched teeth.

You couldn’t help the concern that sparked to life in your chest at his response. “Does it hurt?” You asked, easing up on the pressure but not removing your touch completely. Sucking his lips into his mouth, he nodded with a soft, hesitant hum, glancing back at you from over his shoulder. “What happened?”

He made a strange noise in the back of his throat. “I just… twisted it weirdly during practice, I guess.” He offered weakly, shivering as you poured a small puddle of oil in the small of his back.

“Did you take a break?”

His silence was all the answer you needed.

“Baek,” your tone turned scolding as you gently worked your fingers into the tight dip of his waist, “just because you can fight through the pain doesn’t mean that you should. You’re not doing your body any favors by pushing it this hard.”

“I know but I—“ he sighed heavily, pressing his face into the sheets, “I just… don’t want to disappoint anybody.”

Oh, your poor, sweet Baekhyun. Always trying to please everyone else even when it ends up hurting him.

Pausing in your movements, you leaned forwards, bracing your hands on his shoulders so that you could speak in his ear. “Nobody is disappointed in you, Baek. You work so hard everyday to be the best you can be, and it shows. Everyone knows that you put your everything into what you do. And everyone’s proud of you,” you pressed your lips against the curve of his throat, slowly working your way up to the curve of his jaw, “I’m proud of you.”

He glanced back at you through his eyelashes. “Really?”

The question is so soft, so uncertain, and you feel your heart clench painfully in your chest at the thought that this man truly doesn’t understand just how many people adore him for just being… him. “Of course.”

You didn’t miss the rising of his cheeks, though he tried to hide himself beneath his arm, suddenly shy. You bit back a grin of your own, pressing one final kiss to the shell of his ear before returning to your earlier position and resuming the massage. He felt a dozen times more relaxed beneath you, the previous tension occupying his muscles having magically dissipated.

Sometimes, all he really needed was a little reassurance.

The smile that settled across your lips was unwavering as you took to kneading at the supple flesh of his hips, just above the top of his towel. Somewhere in the back of your mind, there was a flicker of a thought. A mischievous, dangerous thought. A thought that had your attention lingering on where the towel was tucked and secured on his right hip. Glancing up at the back of his head, you allowed your fingers to trail discretely towards the damp, white fabric, toying with it lightly so that he wouldn’t notice — not even as it came undone.

It was only as you peeled it swiftly away from his body and Baekhyun felt the rush of cool air across his backside that he realized what had just occurred.

“H– Hey!” He yelped, swinging his head around fast enough to give himself whiplash, eyes wide with disbelief.

“This is a full body massage, Baek. It’s not a full body massage unless it’s full body.”

“My butt does not need massaging.”

You grinned, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as you cocked a challenging brow. “I beg to differ.”

“Pervert.” He hissed.

You gasped, splaying a hand across your chest. “Who told you?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes at your antics, but put up little resistance as you nudged his hands away from his butt. The tips of his ears and the back of his neck turned a dark, lovely shade of pink, and he quickly buried his face in his arms. Taking that as his nonverbal cue to continue, you poured yourself some more of the lavender scented oil, overturning your palm to let it drizzle onto his cheeks. He flinched slightly, the sensation catching him off guard.

So cute. You bit into the inside of your cheek to keep from cooing at him, opting to set your hands upon the gentle curve of his ass and knead your fingers into the soft, toned flesh. Baekhyun stifled a moan in the crook of his elbow, eyes fluttering as his body responded to the soothing touch.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” You asked, tone teasing.

“Shut up.”

You snickered, massaging deep circles into the muscles of his upper thigh. He groaned deeply, fingers curling into the sheets. “Right there, right there— fuck, right there. It’s so sore.”

Heat flickered faintly in the pit of your stomach at the low rasping of his voice, grunted roughly through clenched teeth. Geez, why’d he have to sound so damn sexy…

Brushing off the thought as best you could, you forced yourself to focus on massaging the tension from his hamstrings. But each brush of your fingers over the insides of his thighs, intentional or otherwise, coaxed a round of violent shivers and breathless moans from your very much nude and very much oil covered boyfriend. You swallowed a mouthful of saliva, jaw clenching as you squeezed your hands around the backs of his lower thighs.

The sounds he was making weren’t helping your… situation in the least.

“How are you so good at this?” He asked, somewhat airily as your hands glided upwards, to just below the curve of his ass before returning to the crook of his knee. The question snapped you out of whatever trance you’d put yourself in watching the way his slick, honeyed skin dipped and curved deliciously beneath the pressure of your touch.

“Re- research. Lots of research.” You cleared your throat, shifting downwards on the mattress to set to work on his calves.

“You’re hands are fucking magic.”

Warmth slipped into your cheeks at the praise, your heart picking up speed within your chest. He was making it difficult for you to focus.

“I told you you’d like it.” You hummed playfully, beginning the slow ascent back up the length of his naked body.

“You were right,” he conceded easily, sighing in bliss as your hands slid over the small of his back, “I love it. Feels so fucking good, you have no idea.”

A content (and perhaps a bit smug) smile settled across your face. You couldn’t have asked for anything more. All you wanted was to make Baekhyun feel even just a little bit better after what you knew had to be a long, hard day— and you goddamn succeeded.

“Baek,” you murmured, and he gasped softly, not expecting your lips to be right next to his ear. He let out an unsteady hum, blinking hard twice when he felt your lace covered chest press against his back, “roll over for me?”

Swallowing thickly, he nodded. You lifted yourself off of him to give him just enough room to turn onto his back beneath you. All at once you were nose to nose, soft puffs of breath caressing your mouth. He was looking up at you with those eyes again, those hooded, wanting eyes, his hands clenching at the sheets somewhere down by his sides. You could see the dark flush on his cheeks, the desperation slowly seeping into his expression.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” The question was quiet, barely a whisper on his delicate pink lips. But the fire it ignited inside of you was anything but— loud, violent, and devastating, ripping your so well kept self control to shreds in a matter of moments.

“Yeah,” you whispered, sliding a slick hand down his toned stomach, “but I’m going to touch it first.”

He barely had time to react before your hand was around his cock. He gasped, back arching, forcing his chest flush against yours. Surprise flickered across your face upon feeling him already fully hard and throbbing against your palm. “Oh?”

“What?” He huffed out breathlessly, swinging the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, “did you expect me not to get hard while my sexy girlfriend wearing sexy lingerie rubs every inch of my body with oil?”

Pausing, you squinted down at him. “It was the butt massage, wasn’t it?”

He glared, and you grinned.

But any annoyance was wiped clean off his face as you squeezed your fingers around him, stroking his dick at a slow, borderline torturous pace. The remaining oil on your hand combined with his precum provided the perfect lubrication, the slide smooth and wet, the lewd sound of it making you clench around nothing. Baekhyun’s head rolled back, mouth falling open in a silent moan. But, not for a moment did his gaze break from yours. You bit your lip harshly, a violent heat licking at your veins, the sheer intensity of his dark stare making your head feel dizzy.

“You look… so hot right now.” You hadn’t intended to say the words out loud, but you also couldn’t find it in yourself to feel even the least bit ashamed.

The corner of his mouth curled into a sultry smirk, an airy chuckle rumbling somewhere low in his chest.

“Yeah?” You nodded. “Then kiss me.”

You did so without hesitation.

Baekhyun let out a heady groan, hands surging up from between your bodies to cradle your jaw as your lips worked against his with a hunger you hadn’t realized you possessed. It was uncoordinated and messy, all lashing tongue and vicious teeth, biting and sucking and licking until you were certain your that lips were raw. You were dizzy and intoxicated by the taste of him, and he wasn’t in much of a better state. With his cock in your hand and your tongue in his mouth, it didn’t seem like he’d last much longer.

Beneath you, Baekhyun’s hips bucked and rolled, frenzied and desperate. Your hand stilled around him, allowing him the luxury of control as he fucked himself violently into your closed fist. Each moan that tumbled from his mouth into yours was louder than the last, and you relished in the unabashed displays of pleasure, taking an immense amount of pride in knowing that you were the cause of it.

“I’m gonna come,” he gasped the warning, his nails biting harshly into your shoulder, “fuck— fuck, wait— I’m g-gonna come.”

“Baek,” you panted, still trying to catch your breath from the kiss, “come for me. Please.”

His back arched, the furnace of his body overwhelmed but still trying feebly to fight back his oncoming high. Baekhyun didn’t like coming first. He’d always had the tendency of putting your pleasure above his own, making sure you came at least once (if not multiple times) before him. But tonight wasn’t about you. Tonight was about him. And you were going to make sure he knew it.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, sucking a dark bruise into his skin while simultaneously rolling your thumb over his sensitive tip in a way that had him trembling pathetically beneath you.

“Oh god— oh fuck— y/n—!” He came with a hoarse cry of your name, hips bucking, muscles tensing, skin shivering. You felt his hot release spilling over your knuckles, slipping between your fingers. He whimpered and squirmed as the overstimulation kicked in, but you didn’t stop stroking him until he started begging. “I can’t, I can’t— baby, please—” his chest heaved and his eyes went glassy, the dangerous cocktail of pleasure and pain making his head feel dizzy.

Looking down at him, so wrecked and fucked out, with those flushed cheeks and heavy eyes, you felt your heart flutter at the same time arousal coiled in your gut. He was just too damn pretty for his own good.

You relented, gently releasing his spent dick from your hold. He let out a shaky breath before tugging you into another mind numbing kiss. You moaned softly against his lips, feeling one of his hands coil around the back of your neck while the other explored the expanse of your back. It didn’t take long before they discovered the clasp of your bra, deftly unclasping it. Distracted by the skillful flicks of his tongue, you didn’t realize what he’d done until you felt the lacy fabric slip down your arms.

A giggle bubbled in your throat, and you whispered against his mouth, “naughty boy.”

His lips curled, and then all at once you found yourself sprawled on your back. “Naughty girl,” Baekhyun retaliated in a low, playful growl, pinning your hands to the mattress on either side of your head, “making me cum even after I told you to wait...”

His head dipped and you gasped softly as he nipped at the sensitive part of your throat, one hand sliding down to grip at your naked breast. You bit your lip to suppress a whimper as he circled your nipple with a rough thumb.

“Guess I’ll just have to pay you back for it…”

You weren’t about to object to that.