#my knees have been so weak the past few days that it hurts to stand for more than a minute but im still fucking fucking because i honestly d

[dark-and-kawaii]

༺ 𝑅𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 ༻

What killed Astarion more than anything was how his daughter carried on your personality. Always wanting to be there for everyone, especially him… He wishes you were still here with him.

Angst - Hurt - Comfort - Mentions of Character Death - Dadstarion

A single tear hit the ground as Astarion looked up into the night sky. How? He wonders to himself… You had both gotten so far the past couple of years. He even managed to kill Cazador, not only for his revenge but to help keep you safe as well... He had done everything to protect you, but in the end, there was nothing he could do. He wasn’t there, he had tried to have been there, but when he got there it was too late.

“What are you doing out here all alone papa?”

Astarion had heard his young daughter calling out to him, but he didn’t want to turn around…

His daughter was a perfect mix of the two of you, she had your hair, his pale skin, one of her eyes were the same color as yours while her other eye was all him, vermilion.

What killed Astarion more than anything was how she carried on your personality. Always wanting to be there for everyone, especially him…

“Papa! You’ll catch a cold if you keep standing out there!”

He sighed heavily, she still hasn’t realized that he’ll always be cold, especially with you gone now, the little warmth he could find in life.

Astarion’s daughter was holding out her arms, a well made embroidered jacket held out in her tiny hands. It was the jacket Gale had gifted her just this year, far too small for Astarion himself yet she still wished to see him cover up.

She was still so young and naïve, Astarion knew this… And he knew she didn’t want her only parent getting sick thanks to the harsh autumn winds.. Even though he wouldn’t…

Another tear slipped past his long lashes, he remembers it like it was yesterday.

He had been sitting outside at night reading a book you had given him. It was such a tranquil evening, the crickets and frogs chorused as the stars twinkled in the sky while you were sat at his side.

-Bringing up his hand he lays it against his shoulder, Astarion swears he can feel your head laying on his shoulder even now…-

You were humming along with nature until you felt the cold air nip at your nose. He could feel the chill run through your body and before he could ask if you’d like to head inside you were removing your jacket and laying it against him as if it were a blanket.

“Just what in the hells do you think you’re doing, hmm?” Astarion arched his eyebrow, his book closing so he can lean into you more.

“You’ll catch a cold,” you wink at him, attempting to be cute.

“Now hold on, as adorable as that is, you should honestly be far more worried about that little thing growing inside of you.” He points to your stomach.

“Oooh please, I defeated an elder brain. Do you really think the cold will hurt me? Besides… I want to enjoy this moment a bit longer, let me have my moment.”

“So stubborn, but you know… I could think of another way to keep you warm and even myself.” He always knew when to turn on his seductive side with you, and tonight would be the perfect moment.

You had both laid out there all night under the maple tree. Your bodies entwined with one another’s, hands roaming, and your jacket covering the both of you in the end.

“Papa?” Your daughter tugged on her fathers pant leg, “Papa you okay!?.”

Astarion focused on his daughter, he tried to stop them but his tears kept making their way down his cheek. He always knew he was weak; knees crumbling to the ground he wrapped his lean arms around his daughter embracing her closely.

“W-whyre you- c-cryin- papa?...” She began to weep with her father.

The past few days his daughter had been asking what happened to you, her mother… And Astarion didn’t blame his daughter for being so curious, nor did he blame her for these recurring memories.

“It-it’s mama, th-thats wh-why you’re cr-cry-crying, right?” Her own tears create a steady stream down her pale complexion…

Astarion wanted to tell her so badly, but how could he tell her… How could he tell his daughter that her mother passed because he wasn’t strong enough… no… he couldn’t. Not yet. She was still far too young for the truth, she could hate him later for it. He was going to protect his daughter no matter what at the moment.

Pulling away from his daughter, he saw so much pain coated on her small face.

Astarion raised his hands so he could wipe away her tears tenderly. Picking up the small jacket she had brought him, he wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Your mother, well she…” He searched for the right words but… “Above us,” he blurted the words before thinking, “See.” He pointed above them, the dark sky was beautiful, stars surrounded them in the sky while the moon gave off a light glow.

She looked up to see all the stars twinkling in the sky.

“T-the stars? Will she ever come down?”

Astarion huffed out a small laugh and shook his head while looking up. “Well, no. But, she’ll always be with you in your heart,” -he pinched her cheeks softly- “Your mother is always going to be keeping an eye on you, I’m sure of it.”

His daughter rapidly began to wipe his tears from his stained cheeks along with hers.

“If she can see us! Then you shouldn't cry anymore papa!” She can see that you are hurting! She wants you to smile.”

Astarion helped her wipe his tears. “You’re right, she wouldn’t. If she was here she’d probably tell me to get over it.”

She nodded in agreement.

“Oh papa! I forgot! I brought out mamas sketchbook! Can you try to draw mama for me!? I want to see how pretty she was!”

“I can most certainly try, for you that is” Picking himself up from the grass, Astarion held his hand out for his daughter so he could take her over to the maple tree, “but don’t complain if it’s terrible.”

Sitting on her papas lap she waited for him to open your long lost sketch book...

Flipping through it, Astarion swore he could feel his undead heart skip a beat… There in the middle of your pages was a sketched photo of himself…

“This is-“ his hand traced over the gray sketch.

“That’s you papa!”

Beneath the sketched portrait was a small note, “The most beautiful vampire I’ve ever laid eyes on, Astarion Acunin.”

[bree-cheesy]

His Favorite Girl

Eddie Munson! x fem!reader

Part 2 Part 3

A/N: I know, it’s been a minute, I’m sorry (not really). Haven’t been super motivated to write so hopefully this redeems me a little. I wanted to write something along the lines of Drug Dealer Eddie and innocent-ish reader being his favorite client. I tried to make it filthy to make up for not giving you guys any fics for a minute so please forgive me! It is a bit short, but I’m not sorry lol. I hope y’all think it’s good!!

Credit to @eddiemunsonsource​ for the gif!

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI OR I WILL MELT YOUR FACES. Sort of maybe friends to lovers. Porn with a little plot. (kissing, dirty talk, rough!eddie, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), face fucking, slight mean Eddie (calls you a slut once), cock drunk reader, choking, rough p in v, bruises formed, (but good ones if you know what I mean) some aftercare), cuddling at the end, language, drug dealing. No use of Y/N. I think that’s it, let me know if I missed anything.

Word Count: 1668

______________________________________________________________

“That’s it, baby…. Just like that, fuck!” Eddie groaned and moaned as your mouth wrapped tight around his cock, sucking him for all he was worth. Lip gloss sliding up and down his shaft. His hand gripping your hair in a tight fist, his head thrown back with his jaw hung open and slack.

---2 hours earlier---

You were Eddie’s favorite buyer. He always gave you a discount and even sometimes gave you it for free. You noticed he’d always give it to you for free if you wore that skirt that made him need to jerk off every time you left his trailer. Tonight was no different at the start. Wearing that little skirt, prancing up to his doorstep, sliding on some more “Bomb Cherry” lip gloss you bought at the mall a few days ago. Knocking you heard a few curses muffled behind the door before it swung open and Eddie was in front of you, holding onto the door frame with a white knuckle grip. He looked sweaty and tense. “Hey, sweetheart. Y-You’re early!”

You smiled up at him, eyes beaming. “Yup! I have a date with Jason tonight and he wants to smoke with me, so I wanted it early.” Eddie couldn’t stop that sinking feeling, but kept a smile on his face.

“Of course,” He opened the door for you to come in. “Come on in.”

He shut the door when you got inside and disappeared down the main hallway. “Should’ve given me some notice, sweetheart. Probably would’ve been a bit more prepared.” He came back into sight with a small plastic baggie.

Eyeing the bag you noticed it was more than usual. “Eddie, that’s too much.” You scrambled for your money in your small coin purse. “I-I only brought a 20… That’s not enough for that.” You looked up at the pretty boy standing tall over you, teeth pressed into your lip.

“Babe, you know you don’t need to pay. Don’t even worry.” He winked at you. “Think of it as a gift for being such a loyal customer.”

You shook your head and dug around for more money. “N-No, I can’t… You’d be losing out on money…” Managing to find another 20, you grabbed his hand and thrusted the two bills into his palm. He rolled his eyes and stuffed the bills in the collar of your tank top.

“Sweetheart, I have half the high school buying from me. I raise prices for them because they’re desperate.” He ran his fingers up the side of your neck, causing chills to go up your body, his thumb lightly rubbing against your jaw. “I promise, giving you free weed is not hurting my business.”

You pouted, opening your mouth to argue, but you gasped softly when he pushed his thumb past your lips, making you shut up. He looked down at you with a hunger you hadn’t seen from him before. It made your knees weak and you almost had to grab onto him for balance.

“But, if you’re so desperate to pay for it, you can do something for me…. Only if you want to of course.” He leaned close to you, pressing you up against him. “Ditch Carver and stay here.” You whimpered and he smiled at you as he felt your tongue press up against his thumb. “Ditch the Jock and stay here so I can show you how you deserve to be treated. You come here in this tight little skirt and it takes so much in me to not bend you over the table and fuck you stupid.” He takes his thumb out of your mouth and drops that hand to the back of your thigh.

“Eddie… please…” You whined softly and pressed more against him.

“Please what, baby?” He leaned in and ran his nose up your neck, starting to guide you to the wall.

“Touch me…” Your voice was a whisper and the words barely came out before he shoved his hand up your skirt and dragged your now soaked panties down your legs just enough to slip his fingers between your folds.

“Fuck, baby… So goddamn wet for me.” His middle finger was at your clit in seconds and you whimpered, falling into his chest as he rubbed it gently. You kissed his neck, sucking softly, wanting to mark him up.

He picked you up and carried you down the hallway towards his room, throwing you on the bed and stripping you of your clothes before he swiped his band t-shirt off. You bit your lip and looked at his inked up chest as he admired your body. Soft skin under his fingers. His thumb running over the small heart stick and poke tattoo on your hip. He grabbed your ankles, roughly pulling you towards him and he dropped to his knees between your legs. Gasping, you instantly grab onto his shoulder, feeling slightly dizzy with pleasure. He kissed softly up your thigh and suddenly bit down, making you squeal and tighten your grip on his shoulders.

“God, you smell so fucking good. Wanna bottle it up and wear it as cologne.” You didn’t get a chance to think before his mouth was fastened to your clit. You cried out and grabbed onto his hair, moaning and bucking into his mouth. He grunted and held onto your thighs with an iron grip that will no doubt leave some bruises. Bruises you’d wear proudly. “So fucking good, baby… So much better than I imagined…”

You looked down at him with a grin, a sudden ego boost flooding your brain. “Y-You’ve imagined this?” Still a little breathless from the nonstop abuse to your pussy by his mouth. He nodded and swirled his tongue around your clit.

“Of course, sweetheart. How could I not. S’fucking pretty everytime you come here. Wanna make you mine, baby…” You moaned at his words and licked your lips. He slipped a finger inside you and curled it just enough to hit that spot that made you melt under his hands. Those big hands you’d imagined wrapped around your throat every night.

“I-I’m yours, Eddie… Promise.” You gasped and felt another finger go inside you. He grinded against his face, the feeling of your orgasm getting so close. Just as you were about to, he stopped and kissed up your body. You whined and he kissed your neck. “Eddie…. Come on, I was so close…”

“I know, baby, but when you cum, it’s gonna be on my cock.” He kissed you hungrily, commanding your lips. You kissed him back and wrapped your legs around his waist. He pulled back and wrapped his hand around your throat before pulling his pants and boxers off. You whined and reached out for his cock, your mouth watering with a sudden need for it. He chuckled and let you up. Your lips instantly attached to it and he groaned, fisting his hand tight in your hair.

“S’it, baby… Just like that, fuck!” He threw his head back as you took him in all the way and gagged on him. He thrusted his hips against your mouth and you moaned around him. Tears filled your eyes from his tip poking the back of your throat and they streamed down your face. He lightly slapped your face and held onto your head with both hands before roughly fucking your face. God, you were in heaven. The need to please Eddie filled your every thought. “Such a good little slut for me. Yeah? You like my cock deep in your throat? F-Fuck…!” He pulled out, letting you get a gasp of air before going right back in. You tapped his thigh a few times, signaling him to stop. He pulled out. “Are you okay?” Sudden worry filled his eyes.

You nodded and laid back on the bed, sniffling softly. “Yeah. I just need you inside me, now…” Whining softly you spread your legs wide for him.

He bit his lip and looked around for a condom before pulling it on. “Fuck, my favorite girl ruined under me… Never thought I’d see this outside my dreams.” He grabbed your neck again and you smiled, loving the feeling of his rings digging into the sensitive skin on your neck. Another bruise you’d wear with pride. “Gonna go in sweetheart, M’kay?” You nodded and he slowly slid inside you, groaning at how tight you were wrapped around him. You moaned and squeezed your eyes shut, getting used to how big he was inside you. He started to thrust in and out, slowly at first, letting you get used to him. After a minute or two, he went fast and rough, wanting to ruin your pussy for every other man. He grunted and groaned, still holding onto your neck. You reached up and dug your nails into his back, no doubt scratching it up. “Mine. You’re mine, now, baby. All mine…! Fuck!” He let go of your neck and leaned his head down, sucking hard on your nipples while fucking you harder.

“Eddie! M’gonna c-cum!” You cried out and came hard around his cock, squirting out as he kept rubbing your clit. You sobbed in pleasure and buried your face in his neck. He groaned and came inside you after a few quick thrusts. You both breathed heavily and he gently pulled out of you, making you hiss at the empty feeling. He threw the condom away and came back to your limp figure on the bed with a wet washcloth to clean you up. He rubbed at your hips.

“Sorry baby, got a little carried away.” He eyed your neck, the red spot forming a bruise matching the ones on your hips. You shook your head and sipped the cold water he gave you.

“S’okay, I like them…” Your voice was scratchy and he smiled at you, kissing you once on the lips before getting in bed with you. You snuggled up to him and shortly fell asleep before he could say anything else.

[arysbruv]

My Sun

Satoru and you had been high school sweethearts, yet after his dispute with Suguru, you had joined the opposing side, leaving Satoru alone to himself and hoping you’d come back and love him again.

pairings: gojo satoru x reader

warnings and whatnots: very short. Angst with a happy ending. Gojo being desperate for you. Not proofread!

Satoru and you stood far apart, your bodies separated yet your hearts intertwined.

Your soul yearned for his. It stung to stand opposing him. It hurt to watch as his eyes fight back tears. It was torture to stand with his best friend as he begged for you to come back for him.

You wanted to run back to him, wipe his tears away and comfort him. Yet, you couldn’t.

You weren’t supposed to be together.

With a heavy heart, and a burden on your shoulder, you turn away from him, walking off to never see him again.

It’s better like this.

This pain will be temporary.

~

You stared at the ceiling, reliving the memories all over again.

It had been years since the dispute. You wondered if he still thought about you; if he still loves you. You did.

He enveloped your entire being, making his way into your heart and mind, ensuring that you know that he will always be there.

You wished he was still here.

Regret washes over you as you stood up and got ready for another day. You had fought with Suguru a while back and subsequently left his organisation that bordered a cult. Now, you were living your own life, as a private curse exorcist.

You check your phone, there was a commission at a school. You sigh, putting your gear on and leaving your apartment.

Days passed quickly nowadays. Without him, you didn’t find the joy in living anymore. He was your Sun. You sometimes wonder if you were just a Sunflower. You had to face him, to see him, or else your life would be meaningless. It would have no point. You would be left empty.

Within a few minutes, you had arrived at the school, quickly exorcising the curse before leaving to get lunch. You look at your phone, tuning out the world as you ask for your payment.

As you walk, a man watches you. He hadn’t seen you for so long and he almost couldn’t believe it to be you. You looked so different yet he knew it was you.

His eyes, his heart, his soul told him it was you.

Without a second thought, he dropped everything and trailed after you, hoping to see what you were up to. He knew it was wrong. He shouldn’t be following you. It was dangerous, yet his legs betrayed his mind as he continued to follow your movements.

He stalked behind you as you entered the busy street, your bodies furthering from each other.

No.

He couldn’t lose you again.

He calls out to you, knowing his voice would be swallowed up by the hustle and bustle of the crowd forming around you both. Somehow, you had heard it, turning back to him, eyes catching his.

The sight of your eyes made his knees weak. If it weren’t for the crowd that was surrounding the pair of you, he would’ve already fallen on to his knees.

You stop walking, seeing him again. He pushes the crowd away, approaching you with caution but desperation. His moves frantic.

He stands in front of you, towering over your figure. Yet, he felt weak in your presence. Your eyes stare at him, taking in all his features. Was this a trick?

“y/n.” He breathes out. His eyes scanned your body, trying to see if it was really you.

“Satoru…”

Without another word, he wraps his arms around you, his chin naturally finding its place in the crook of your neck, his scent hitting you and causing all the memories to flood back to you.

“Love, please… come back to me.”

You stayed quiet, living in the moment. All your past feelings rushed through your head and heart.

You loved him. You missed him. You needed him.

He sniffles loudly, causing you to pull him in tighter. His body shakes, tears staining your clothes. You fight back your own tears.

“Please, tell me what I need to do, tell me what I need to do for you to stay.” He pulls alway from you, his eyes begging as he holds your hands. “Maybe I was too young to see how much I loved you then, but I am not anymore.”

“Oh Satoru,” You say quietly, pulling him back in. “You don’t need to do anything, love.”

“Will you stay with me? Come home with me?”

You smile softly at him. You watch his pleading eyes as he begs you.

“I will follow you wherever you go, sun.”

[thecampjuicebox]

Hi! I would absolutely love shameless smut Astarion x f!Tav (or f!reader) with some oral ministrations ^-^

Hi sweets! Your wish is my commend! I've been waitin' for this one. *cracks knuckles* Let's do this.

Hunger

Pairing: Tav(f) x Astarion

POV: 2nd person (Reader is Tav)

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut, masturbation, oral (f/m giving/receiving), biting, choking, Dom Astarion x Sub Tav, gentle face slapping

Sleep eludes you this particular night, your brain running through the recent events of the past few days. The nautiloid, the tadpoles, gathering this seemingly harmless band of misfits, it's all so.. Strange. Before waking up in the grasp of the mindflayers, your life was simple. A merchant and artist in Baldur's Gate. During the day, you were peddling your wares to the higher society of the city, making a name for yourself amongst the lords and ladies. You specialized in jewelry, mostly. Adorning the necks of the wealthy with the finest jewels Faerun has to offer. You breathe slowly, eyelashes fluttering at the memory. You'd had your fair share of meetings with some of the most eligible fellows in the upper city because of your line of work. Each one of them powerful, wealthy. Insanely wealthy. You've danced with Lordlings, held hands with Dukes, even been bedded by a magistrate or two. None of them compared to the pale skinned elf you happened to pick up after the crash. Astarion. He's so.. Different. Your mind reels at the very idea of him and you fidget in your bedroll.

Tired eyes snap open at the sudden sound of shuffling beside you, the sight of that very elf leaning over you with fangs bared sending you into a daze. He widens his eyes at you, backing away slowly. "Shit." You hurry to your feet, taking a defensive stance towards the intruder. He blinks at you innocently.

"I-It's not what it looks like! I swear!"

Crossing your arms over your chest, you eye him for a moment, waiting for some sort of explanation.

"I wasn't going to hurt you.. I just need, well, blood."

Shit. You stare at him blankly for a moment, mind racing. It all makes so much sense now. His lack of appetite, his blatantly obvious sneaking off at night, the dead boar your group found on the bridge to the Blighted Village. Perfectly drained of blood from no more than two little pinholes in its neck. Of course. He's a vampire. You pause for a moment, considering the implications of your discovery. Heat travels down your spine and stings in your core. You stand firm, furrowing your eyebrows to seem angrier than you really are.

"I can't believe I didn't see it. We even found your last meal lying in the road. Clever of you to act so naïve about the situation. Bravo."

His posture straightens and he places his hands on his hips, lips curving into that devilish grin that makes your knees week. The vampire quirks an eyebrow at you then drags his eyes down your body before meeting your eyes again. His intense gaze makes you shiver. Picking at your fingernails, you chew your bottom lip nervously and kick your foot at the dirt beneath you. Astarion drums his fingers against his hip bones.

"I usually feed on animals. Boars, Kobolds, whatever I can find really. But right now I'm too slow. Too weak. If I could just have a little blood.. I could fight better."

You nod slowly and weigh your options. This could help him. You need him strong to fight the massive hoards of enemies you and your group seem to continuously encounter. What's a little bite? You smirk at your next thought, cheeks unknowingly burning hot the moment the idea crosses your mind. You'll also have the chance to be deliciously close to the vampling. No, don't think like that. The tadpole squirms with excitement in your brain, making you wince slightly at the sudden movement behind your eyes. You sigh and straighten your posture.

"Fine. But not a drop more than you need."

"What? I- Okay. Yes. Perfectly reasonable. Shall we make ourselves comfortable?"

Astarion motions towards his dimly lit tent and you nod, keeping a death grip on your bottom lip between your teeth. His hand rests at the small of your back to guide you into the cramped living space, the gentle yet dominant gesture making your knees nearly buckle underneath you. His breath is warm on your ear. "Lie down." Without hesitation, you lower yourself knees first to his bedroll, a quiet growl rumbling in the vampire's chest as he watches you closely. You choke back a quiet whimper, clearing your throat quickly. Astarion moves next to you and smiles, giving your shoulder a gentle push to lower you the rest of the way to the plush surface beneath you. A trembling hand moves up to cup the back of your head.

"Stay still for me.."

Before you can respond the vampire bares his fangs, moving in to plunge them deep into the sensitive flesh of your neck. Icy hot pain courses through you, each vein in your body simultaneously burning. You whimper up into Astarion's ear. The hand on the back of your head tightens its grip, holding onto your soft hair now. Your mouth falls open at the tension on the back of your head. "A-Astarion.." Is all you can say as his tongue laps at the fresh wounds on your neck, little grunts of enjoyment vibrating your skin. You mewl at the new sensation and grab a fistful of his shirt, desperately pulling him closer to you. He finally breaks contact with your neck, gazing down at you with drunken eyes.

"Gods, you're.. Delicious.."

Little black spots speckle your vision as you try to focus on Astarion's face, a woozy feeling rushing over you suddenly. He must've been starving, he's basically drained you and left you on empty. Your heart thumps in your ears. Soft hands push the hair from your face before resting on your cheeks, giving the now sickly pale skin a few little gentle slaps. A devilish grin thins your lips.

"That was incredible. I feel incredible."

...

Late night feedings have become a regular thing for you and Astarion. You reveled in the intimate way he'd hold you close to him to ensure you wouldn't move, hand tangling in your hair to keep your neck steady. It left you needy every single time, often excusing yourself to a secluded part in the woods to relieve the urges, the freedom to be as loud as you want. Tonight is one of those nights.

Astarion stands and wipes his lips with the back of his hand, licking the remnants of your blood carefully from his skin. He groans happily before helping you back to your feet. You smile and say your goodbyes quickly, dashing out of the tent. He quirks an eyebrow, waiting for your footsteps to fall silent before peaking his head out of his tent, scanning around for you. He spots you ducking into the woods and pure curiosity wills him to follow. "Where in the hells is she going?" Astarion slinks out of his tent and picks up on your scent like a lost dog, carefully following your trail. He crouches low, making sure to leave a decent amount of distance between you so you don't detect his presence.

You tip toe through the thick foliage, leaves quietly crunching under your boots. Stopping in your usual clearing, you sigh heavily, carefully scoping out the area for any intruders before lowering yourself to the ground. Shaky fingers unlace your boots and kick them off in a rush, fumbling with the ties on your shirt. You groan with anticipation and fling the garment to the side, standing up to quickly shimmy out of your leathers. Goosebumps raise all over your pale skin at the cool night air and you slide out of your underwear last, a sticky puddle of arousal staining the fabric. You toss those aside, eyes doing another once-over of the land. No one in sight. You lean against a large oak tree and stare up at the sky, gulping down the massive lump in your throat. You're so desperate for release. So needy. So wet. You close your eyes and allow your fingers to travel over your chest, little whimpers escaping your dry throat as you carefully circle your painfully erect nipples. You give one a pinch, grinding your hips at the air. "F-Fuck.."

Astarion breeches the thick line of trees and enters the clearing quietly, eyes roaming the area in search of you. He catches a glimpse of your boots and smirks, gaze flicking to your pile of clothes. "The little devil." His pointy ears perk up at your moan and he leans in the direction of the sound, holding his breath for a moment to listen even closer. Stifling a moan of his own, he moves towards the tree you're leaning against, eyes fixed on your profile. Without noticing the intruder, your fingers slide down your abdomen, muscles flexing at the feather light touch before hungrily dipping between your folds. You tilt your head higher, jaw falling open as you collect your arousal on your fingers and carefully shimmy your feet further apart to give yourself more room to work. Your knees buckle, your belly aches with desire, your skin burns for attention. Astarion moves in closer, the sound of his shuddering breath causing you to freeze. Your eyes snap open.

"W-who's there? I swear to the gods above, I'll kill you."

The vampire moves into view, tongue flicking out over his bottom lip to moisten the skin. He steps in front of you, placing both hands on the tree to trap you between his body and the tall oak. You gaze up at him, blinking in embarrassment.

"Having all of this fun without me, pet? I'm hurt."

"I.. I just.. Didn't want to bother you with asking. Wasn't sure you'd be interested?"

"Hmph. May I?"

You nod quickly at his question, pushing your hips forward. Astarion tuts, reaching a hand down to rub over your sensitive mound, earning a strained moan. He leans in close to your ear, exhaling slowly before biting at your lobe, a low growl building in his belly.

"At least you had the decency to consider my feelings. How sweet of you."

He presses a single digit to your clit and rubs slow circles, cooing into your ear after each of your whimpers as he gradually picks up speed. Both of your hands find the front of his shirt and give it a rough tug to pull him closer to you, hips bucking up against his touch. He licks a slow, hot stripe up the side of your neck, the still fresh bite mark stinging from his saliva. You chew your lip for a moment, releasing the flesh to whisper up at him.

"May I touch you?"

His fingers pause at your words and he stares down at you, expression melting into one of almost sadness. No one has ever asked to touch him as sweetly as you just did. He's so used to being just a body, a toy. Someone for people to play with as they please. Tears well up in the corners of his eyes and he blinks them away quickly. You back yourself against the tree and wait for his response, hands resting at your sides, The vampire nods down at you, mumbling a soft "Please." You flash a sweet smile up at him, placing your hands on his chest and slowly sliding them down his slender body, falling to your knees. He gasps at the touch, head tilting up towards the sky. A hand instinctively rests on the back of your head.

"If at any point you get uncomfortable, please tell me and I'll stop, okay?"

He beams down at you, bottom lip quivering. You quickly undo the lacing on his leathers and press gentle kisses to his already stiff cock through the fabric, Astarion grasping a handful of your hair in response. You giggle to yourself and tug his leathers down carefully. "Mm.." His eyes darken with lust. He tugs your hair to tilt your head up, forcing you to look at him. His hand leaves your hair and circles around your neck, fingers fitting perfectly in the subtle indents just below your jawline. You grunt at the sudden restriction of air.

"Such a good pet. So obedient for me. I want you to touch yourself while I fuck your throat. Can you do that?"

You groan and nod up at him, face turning red from the lack of oxygen. He releases your neck, giving your cheek a gentle slap before grasping your jaw firmly, fingers sliding upwards to squish your cheeks together.

"Good girl."

You mewl at the roughness of his hands, cunt dripping onto your thick thighs. He releases your face and frees his cock from the constricting leather. You part your knees and slide a hand down between them, fingers swirling around in the mess. Astarion grasps his cock in his hand, giving it a few pumps before pressing the weeping tip to your lips, swiping the pre-cum around your cheeks and mouth.

"Open."

You obey happily, parting your lips and letting your tongue lull out, a thin line of drool falling onto your chest. The vampire taps his throbbing member against your tongue, swiping it back and forth before shoving it as far into your mouth as he can. Your lips wrap tightly around the base as he bottoms out. His head falls back, jaw slack from the warmth of your mouth. You bob your head carefully after giving yourself a moment to adjust to his girth in your throat and your fingers move furiously against your clit, slick coating your trembling hand. Your free hand sits firm on the ground beneath you to hold you steady. Astarions hands move to your hair, grabbing a fistful on each side of your head to keep you in place as he fucks into your throat, groaning with each thrust. Drool spills out of the corners of your mouth when he pushes in. He pauses his thrusts and slides his boot between your legs, gritting his teeth before growling down at you.

"Fuck yourself on my boot like a good pet. Show me how needy you are."

You scoot closer on your knees, lowering yourself onto the shiny top of his boot and you grind your hips into the leather, both arms wrapping around his leg to hold you steady. He resumes his quick thrusts into your throat, rhythm beginning to falter as he nears his end. He gasps for air. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." You stick your tongue out once more to rub against the underside of his cock, earning a loud moan from the pale elf towering above you. "Gods, please. I'm so close." His voice is desperate now, tough exterior crumbling in front of you. He bucks his hips furiously into your face, the tip of his cock brushing the very back of your throat and you stifle a gag, only earning another moan at the way your throat tightens around him. You grind down roughly onto his boot still, slick coating the black leather. He snaps, completely coming undone, hot ropes of cum shooting into the back of your throat and you swallow quickly, making sure to milk every last drop. The vampire shudders and pulls himself away from you and you keen at the emptiness, a string of drool and cum still connecting the two you of you. You flick your tongue out to collect the fluid, hips still moving in a slow steady motion and you gasp as he lifts his foot into you slightly.

"Filthy."

You grin, moaning up at him, chest heaving as you gasp for air. Swift hands yank you up off of the ground, your back slamming into the oak tree behind you. Astarion's lips crash to yours and you melt in his embrace. His tongue wrestles for dominance in your mouth, the taste of him still lingering there. You groan into his mouth quietly and wrap one leg around his waist, the other still supporting your weight. The kiss feels like it goes on for years, lips moving in perfect harmony. This is perfect. He is perfect. Astarion pulls away from your lips and you whine at the lack of touch, eyes fluttering open to stare up at him.

"May I taste you, pet?"

Astarion's sudden change of tone makes your heart flutter and you nod quickly, resting your ass against the tree. He kneels carefully, nose leaving a soft trail down your hip bone and to the top of your mound. He presses gentle kisses there for a moment. Your hips twitch, a hand reaching out to stroke his hair back lovingly. Without warning, he lifts you up, tossing your legs over his shoulders, pinning you up in the air against the tree. His hands rest under your thighs, spreading your legs apart as far as your hips will allow, opening you up to him. You gasp and reach your hands up above your head to grip the thick trunk. Astarion dips his tongue between your folds and licks a long stripe to your clit then back down, spreading your thick juices around. He groans at your taste. His lips work against your clit now, sucking the sensitive nub between them, creating a tight seal. You cry out in pleasure, back bowing upwards. The sensations knock the wind out of you. Waves of pleasure send you into a daze as he shoves his tongue into your slit, teeth carefully scraping your clit. His fingers dig into your plush thighs, leaving little indents that will surely bruise. You whine and grind your hips against his tongue. He grins, sticking his tongue out, allowing you to take control and you happily oblige, grinding your aching clit against his warm tongue.

"Gods, Astarion I'm gonna-"

Before you can finish your sentence, the vampire wraps his lips around your clit once more, tongue lapping furiously at the bundle of nerves. Electricity pulses up your spine, your climax exploding inside of you. You fall apart in his arms, crying his name out to the empty clearing, his mouth still working you through your release. The over stimulation causes you to writhe in his embrace and you desperately push on his forehead, doing anything you can to escape his hungry mouth. He chuckles and lowers you to your feet, hands resting on your hips now to hold you steady. He licks his lips, pressing a wet kiss to yours. You shudder at the taste of yourself. Astarion leans in to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder, nuzzling his nose into your collar bone and you sigh happily. His voice is low and sultry, breathing still labored.

"You're absolutely divine, my sweet."

You giggle shyly and wrap your arms around the vampire's thin waist, helping him tug his leathers back up into place. Gently trailing your fingers along the skin just above his pants, you gaze up into his eyes, lids lowering. The vampire shudders at your touch, pulling you into a tight hug. Your heart thumps in your chest.

"You're not so bad yourself."

[rosebloodcat]

TTWTWK AU: Cognitive Dissonance

In one timeline, Jim wakes one school morning with no idea of the way his world would change and how close he would come to the many things he’d lost without ever realizing it. In this timeline, he wakes to his father greeting him warmly from the kitchen and making meatloaf lunches for everyone. Except Jim remembers that HE was the one who should have been making that meatloaf. And that's BLINKY standing in the kitchen.

An: I never said the parts of this story would be in order because I never knew how or when I would finish my various chapters. This one is a lot further in the timeline than the ones that came before it. And, as such, has a lot of references to things that I haven't written out and posted yet. But I'll post a quick (if a little vague) explanation for some of them in the end notes.

A warning note for those who are sensitive to it, Jim has a panic attack in this chapter. I tried not to go into too much detail to avoid triggering anyone, but he still has one and I want to make sure you all know. If it starts to mess with you, scroll past to the linebreak below it and it will have finished by that point.

Please take care of yourselves out there!

Jim woke with a gasp to a quiet sunny morning, jerking up and sending the magazine that had been draped over his face to the floor. His eyes flicked over the room, and he struggled to get his breathing to even out.

This… This was his bedroom. In Arcadia.

Looking as close as he could remember to how it had before… Before everything had changed. (A few things looked different… But maybe he was just remembering them wrong? It had been years since then. He could have forgotten about things he'd had on the shelves.)

(He felt dizzy, and his head hurt too. Maybe it was a side effect of the Krohnisfere?)

It… It worked? Am- am I really-?

He stumbled out of his bed, trying to keep quiet and avoid waking his mother as he pulled his cellphone off of his desk and turned it on.

His knees went weak, for just a moment, when he saw the date glowing at him from the screen. Part of him wanted to cry.

It worked.

The Krohnisfere had worked. It sent him back to the past. He could change things. He had the chance to keep everyone safe. He could save his best friend!

But what should he do? He could barely remember how that day had gone. Had he made breakfast that morning? What had he made? Had he also made lunch for that day?

Was it something simple like sandwiches or-

No, wait, he made lunch for himself, Toby, and his mother that day. Making the meatloaf almost made them late to school, that was why they’d had to take the canal shortcut in the first place. The canal where he’d heard the mysterious voice had called his name. The place that had changed everything.

He was… He would probably still get the amulet at the canal. But, should he go at get it now? If he went out now, he could probably get there and back before Toby got up.

There was a small fear (maybe an irrational one) that if he didn’t go out now then something would happen. Something or someone would get to the amulet before him and change everything. And possibly not in a good way.

He looked to the window and the barely rising sun beyond it. He let out a breath through his nose.

No, calm down Jim. Everything will be fine, you have time. The sun’s only just coming up. You can plan better this time. You’ll get there when you get there.

Things didn't kick off until he found the amulet. And he knew he needed that before he could try to change anything.

(There was a whisper at the back of his mind. One that was insisting that something was off. Something was different. But, of course something was different! He had memories from the future! A future he was going to change. For the better, this time.)

But he could start with something small.

Like managing his time a little better, and making it so that he and Toby weren't late. That would be a small, safe thing to start with. Something he could use to prove to himself that his crazy plan was possible.

He nodded to himself, feeling just the smallest bit more grounded now that he had a plan of action.

Looking down, he was momentarily confused about the fact that he wasn’t in his pjs. Had he really fallen asleep in his clothes the night before? And he’d just run out and spent a second day in them? Why had he done that?

Maybe it was a side effect of having to spend so long in the armor during the trip to New Jersey, but now the idea of going out in the same clothes he’d gone to sleep in bothered him. Or wearing the same sweater for more than two or three days in a row. He itched his clothes without thinking.

Okay, he was going to start this day differently. First by changing into something that he hadn’t slept in.

A quick change got rid of the itch and left him feeling more comfortable. Now he felt like he could start the day. He slipped out into the hall but paused at the top of the stairs.

He could hear someone in the kitchen.

Who would be in the kitchen? Maybe it was his mother? Maybe, because of the memories, he’d woken up earlier than he'd thought and she was still up? (But his mom was always in bed when the sun was rising since she worked the graveyard shift at the hospital…)

He slowly, carefully, made his way down the steps and turned to the kitchen to see who was there.

His brain stalled and the low thrum of his headache suddenly doubled in intensity.

The information in his brain wasn't making sense, because the person standing in the kitchen wasn't his mother. But his head was trying to tell him that was fine.

Instead of his mom, an impossibly familiar human man was in his kitchen, reading over a scribbled-out recipe and fussing with the oven. Like this was just another normal morning routine. Like he'd always been there, doing that sort of thing in the mornings.

That was his father. That was James Lake Sr.

That was his mentor. That was Blinkous Galadrigal.

Why was his dad there? Why did his dad look like Blinky?

Why was Blinky human again? And why was he in Jim’s Kitchen, cooking something?

Had he used the krohnisfere wrong? What was going on here? This was different from before!

The man looked up from the oven, smiling warmly at Jim as he shut it with one hand.

“Oh, good morning Jim. I thought you'd sleep in a bit longer since you’d stayed up late last night. I started that meatloaf recipe you'd wanted to try for lunch today.” He chuckled lightly, smiling as he straightened up and started wiping his hands with a towel. “Hope you don't mind that I made it before you got up. I'm sure Tobias and Barbara will enjoy it just the same.”

He sounded like Blinky. Like when he'd been turned into a human. He looked like Blinky as a human. So why was Jim’s brain trying to tell him that this was his father? That him making lunches for himself and Toby and his mom was normal?

His fath- Blink- The man looked back at Jim and paused, his face shifting to concern. The same concern he’d seen so many times before.

“Jim? What's wrong? Are you feeling alright? You look pale.” Jim was frozen as his father Blinky gently pressed a hand to his forehead, brow furrowed in worry. “You don't have a temperature. Do you feel sick? I can call the school so you can stay home if you do. I’m sure Norman and Jack can handle me coming in late…”

Call the school- This can’t be real. This can’t be real. Am I dreaming all of this? Jim’s brain was pulling up static, just staring at his dadmentorfatherfriend. His chest was suddenly, painfully tight and breathing hurt.

(If his chest hurt, then he couldn’t be dreaming. Right?)

“Jim? Son? What’s wrong?”

What was going on here? Why was Blinky here, as a human, acting like this was perfectly normal? Acting like he was Jim’s dad and he’d always been here? Like he wasn't supposed to be a troll in Trollmarket with Arrrgh and Draal and Vendal.

And he mentioned Uncle Norman… Uncle Norman passed away years ago, hadn’t he? He’d been Jim’s godfather, picked by his dad when he was a baby. But he’d passed away in an accident when Jim was eight. How would Blinky know about him? Jim didn’t remember bringing him up before. Hadn’t he? Maybe he’d mentioned him a couple times, but only in passing. Not enough for Blinky to really know about him.

“Come on Jimbo, talk to me.”

Had Jim already messed everything up? Had just using the Krohnisfere ruined everything out the gate? Had it somehow- Changed things when he’d used it? Made everything different just by him trying to save the people he’d cared about? Had everything been warped out of shape and now he wouldn’t be able to do anything to save anyone?

Was he already failing? Before he’d even had the chance to try?

“Jim!”

The startled shout drew his dazed gaze to the panicked look on Blinky’s face. He could feel Blinky’s hands gripping his arms, but the sensation was oddly numb. Like Jim was wearing a sweater that was a lot thicker than he’d thought.

Oh, he wasn’t breathing. That explained why his chest hurt. But what was the roaring in his ears about?

He blinked once. Twice.

He sucked in a small breath. (It was too shallow.)

Then he dropped.

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

James swore, lurching forward and catching Jim before he could hit the floor and possibly hurt himself.

Well, this wasn’t how he’d expected the morning to go.

He gently adjusted his grip so he could lift Jim more comfortably. He didn’t want to risk getting him back up the stairs, but he could get him to the couch. (Gracious, Jim was getting far too big for him to lift anymore.)

It seemed he would be calling the school after all. He wasn’t going to try and send his son to school after he’d fainted.

But why? Jim hadn’t had a panic attack in years, what on earth could have triggered one now?

He frowned, heading back to the kitchen and calling the school to explain that Jim was staying home sick for the day. He’d assured the school nurse that he’d get Jim a note if it lasted longer than a single day, but the “cold” was nothing to worry about. That covered that base, so he wouldn’t have to worry about any well-meaning teachers coming over to check up on them.

(He was still reluctantly approving of how seriously Stricklander took the education of his human students. But he was still going to keep the changeling in the dark about how much James knew. It was the safer route, for now.)

He’d have to give Toby the same story once he came over. Knowing the young man, he would probably offer to bring Jim’s homework back for him or taking extra notes in class. Which would help keep Toby from worrying too much during the school day.

(A small task, something he could do to help, often helped ease Tobias’ mind. Took some of the stress he was prone to away.)

James drummed his fingers against the counter, thinking.

Barbara was sleeping off a late shift, so she would still be at home all day but… He didn’t want to just leave after Jim had collapsed like that. Yes, he wouldn’t be home alone but it wouldn’t be fair to either of them for him to just up and leave after something like that had happened.

Making up his mind, he picked up the phone again and dialed the office.

"You’ve reached the office of Polk & Lake P.I., this is Jack speaking. What can I do for you?” Came the familiar voice, reciting the familiar script. He’d hoped that Norman would be the one to pick up, but at least it hadn’t gone to voicemail.

“Morning Jack, it’s James.” He could hear the small, surprised noise from the other end.

“James? Why are you calling this early? I thought you’d still be making breakfast right now.”

“Normally, yes. But something’s come up and I don’t think I’ll be coming in today,” James said with a sigh. “Jim’s had a panic attack this morning. A bad one.”

There was a concerned hiss from Jack.

“Shit, is he alright?”

“I- I don’t know. It was bad, Jack. I’m keeping him at home for the day.” He clenched a hand in his shirt. He hadn’t seen Jim like that in ages, and he looked so much like he had when… When everything had gone so very wrong.

(It was coming up on the day when Jim had first gotten the amulet, wasn’t it? He hadn’t been keeping a very close eye on the dates. And humans kept track by a different system than trolls did. It was hard to make things line up.)

(But he wasn't too worried about it. He and Norman had done their best to ensure Kanjigar would be alright. And he trusted Norman’s spellwork.)

“Ah, I take it you’re planning on staying with him?”

“Yes, I don’t want to leave him by himself until Barabra gets up.”

“Understandable, I’ll let Norman know that you’re not coming in.” There was a quiet huff. "Knowing him, he’ll probably bring you lot lunch or something later just so he can check up on you both.”

“He probably will,” James said with a weak chuckle. He knew better than to point out that Jack would undoubtedly tag along with him to check on them as well. “Thanks, Jack. I suppose I’ll see you later.”

“Hope your boy feels better. And don’t make yourself sick worrying for him.” Jack’s voice took a slightly sharper note at the end, getting a small smile out of him.

“I’ll do my best. Have a good day, Jack.”

“Same to you.”

James let out a quiet sigh as the line went quiet, clicking the button to hang up on his end and setting the phone back on its dock. He set a timer for the meatloaf (no reason to pull it out or let it burn) then picked up a book Barbara had gifted him, settled back in an armchair in the living room, and waited for Jim to come around.

It was all he could really do.

So he read, occasionally glancing up to check on Jim. Only getting up to tell Tobias that Jim was staying home that day, and later to turn on the radio when the quiet of the house started to get to him.

(Though, he couldn’t help noting that Tobias had seemed rather out of it. He was acting oddly… rattled. And he looked rather sickly as well. He’d suggested the boy tell his nana to call him out too, if he wasn’t feeling well. Tobias had agreed and left but the odd behavior still stuck out.)

It was several hours later that Jim finally came around.

There was a quiet groan that James almost missed that made him look up and see his son shifting on the couch. He marked his page, quickly setting his book aside and getting to his feet. He gingerly sat down at the far end of the couch by Jim’s feet, trying to keep from jostling him too much with the movement.

“Jim?” He hedged, keeping his voice soft to avoid startling Jim. The teen still jolted, ever so slightly, and stared at him. “How’re you feeling? Anything hurt?”

For a moment, Jim was silent. Then, barely louder than a whisper,

“B-Blinky?”

He stopped. Had Jim just- ?

“Sorry? I- I didn’t quite catch that.” He… He needed to be sure. Before he delved into everything, he needed to be sure that he’d really heard Jim call him by his troll name. He could see Jim trying to gather himself, swallowing nervously as he slowly pushed himself up.

“B-Blinky? What- What’s going on? How are you- ?” Jim’s voice shook with each word, but there was no mistaking what he was saying. Or what he was asking.

James hadn’t been ready for this to happen.

“Well… I was wondering if you would remember at some point, but I’d started to think it wouldn’t happen.” James let out a breath, trying to gather his thoughts together. “I just… I hadn’t expected it to go like this if it did happen.”

Part of him wanted to pull Jim closer, to wrap an arm around him to help Jim calm down again. To physically comfort his obviously distressed son. But he wasn’t sure if that would help right then, or if it would just upset him more. Instead, he gave a comforting smile and slowly rested his hand on Jim’s knee.

“But, yes. You’re right, it’s me. I’m not entirely sure how I’ve become human, but I’ve had time to get used to it.” He leaned back slightly, watching Jim carefully from the corner of his eye. “I… Assume that you remember everything from the Krohnisfere?”

He waited for Jim to nod, slow and hesitant though it was. Okay, okay so now he… He needed to clarify what Jim remembered. Figure out the baselines that he needed to cover.

“How much… What else can you recall? It’s alright if it doesn’t make sense, I just want to know. To help me explain what I can.”

“You- You’re my mentor, as the trollhunter. You’re supposed to be a troll, a conundrum. And you should be in Trollmarket right now. With Arrrgh. I-” Jim paused, his voice slowly steadying out. But he was still curled in on himself, so James knew he wasn’t as put together as he was trying to be. “Today is supposed to be the day I got the amulet. I found it at the bottom of the canal when Toby and I used it as a shortcut to get to school so we wouldn’t be late. I picked the day I got the amulet for the Krohnisfere because I thought… I thought that would be far enough back. To change things.”

Oh, dear… At least that explained why Jack had picked up instead of Norman. His fail-safe plan if Kajigar hadn’t listened to their “advice” about taking extra measures against sun injuries must have gone off.

(For James, it had been advice. A polite recommendation. For Norman, on the other hand, it hadn’t been a suggestion. More of an order.)

He was hoping that, since he had yet to get a call saying that it had failed, Norman’s plan had worked and Kanjigar was still alive. And probably getting quite an earful from the weirn for not taking extra measures to protect himself when he was supposed to be the honored protector of trollkind. Norman always seemed to take a special affront over the way the trollhunters traditionally handled things…

Jim hesitated before he continued.

“But, my head keeps saying that- That you’re supposed to be here. That seeing you in the kitchen in the mornings, making breakfast for us, is totally normal. That sometimes getting driven to school by you is normal. That… That you’re my dad. The same dad that went missing when I was five, but now you’re here and I- I!” Jim dug his fingers into his hair, curling further in on himself. His breathing was picking up in a way that instantly worried James. “It doesn’t make sense! You’re Blinky and you’re my mentor but you’re human and my dad and you work with Uncle Norman who was- who was gone! But he’s here and you’re here and I- I don’t understand it! How are- Why is- What’s happening?”

This time, James didn’t bother holding back the urge. He moved over and wrapped Jim in a hug, tucking the teen’s head under his chin. One hand slowly rubbed soothing circles in his son’s back as he tried to help him calm down again. (Jim had already fainted once today and James really didn’t want a repeat of that.)

“Easy, now. Deep breaths, Jim, deep breaths. You’re starting to panic, just breathe for a few moments. Alright?” James softened his voice, his tone gentle as he spoke. “Please, just try to breathe. I know you can do it.”

He kept the quiet mantra up until, slowly, Jim’s breathing started to even out again and he slowly leaned into his father’s grip.

“S-Sorry I- I just-” There was a shaking hitch to Jim’s words, which didn’t surprise James.

“Don’t apologize, Jim. You have clashing memories, of course you’d be distressed.” He gave Jim a small, comforting squeeze to emphasize his words. “That… That helps me figure out roughly where to start. This is probably going to sound a little… Convoluted? Yes, I suppose convoluted would be the right word. But please just hear me out, alright?”

James wasn’t entirely sure how Jim would take all of this, but he would try to stick to the truth as best he knew it. Even if it meant giving it in sections throughout the day. Or possibly the week. It would probably take a while to air everything out.

“I… Alright, I guess I’ll start with this. The simplest answer, for the clashing memories, would be that… Both are true? I was your mentor, and I am supposed to be a conundrum troll, but right now I’m human and live with you and Barbara in Arcadia.”

“In our… Previous timeline? I believe that would be the correct terminology, approximately… Twenty or so years before I met you, I went missing from Trollmarket. There were some visiting trolls who had decided to travel through Arcadia itself, instead of trying to travel by gyre. They had some fragile items and were worried that the gyre would damage them accidentally. But, in doing so, they had dropped some of their luggage.” He paused, brow furrowing in thought. It was hard to recall the exact details of that night. He wasn’t sure if it was due to human memory recall or how… Unimportant it was compared to what had happened afterward. “I can’t quite remember what the reason was, now. Something startling them that made them leave it behind? Whatever it was, Kanjigar wanted to focus on that instead of just collecting the lost items. Not that he would have done it differently, being the trollhunter.”

“I had volunteered to help gather them instead because a few of them had been books that I’d asked for to add to my library. It would mean one less thing for Kanjigar to worry about, and I would ensure that I’d gotten the books. Arrrgh would have gone with me to fetch them, but someone had asked for his assistance and I’d thought that it would be simple enough for me to handle on my own. I remember going out with Kanjigar, the two of us splitting up once he’d found the trail he was after and confirming that it wasn't near where I would be, and then… Well, I’m rather unsure what occurred after that. But I hadn’t returned to Trollmarket before dawn that night. Or the next night. Or the one following that.”

“No one knew where I was or what happened to me.  I’d just vanished into the night, as far as anyone could tell. Until Kanjigar finally found me wandering the sewers in a daze, ten years after I’d first gone missing. I had no memory of what had happened, or where I’d been, or anything from those ten years. It was all a blank. It was a mystery for everyone, myself included.”

He remembered the bag of supplies and the bent little piece of metal he’d been found with. How they’d haunted him from their shelf at the back of his library for years. Now, he knew what they were. His supply bag from Norman and… And his wedding ring.

(Learning that he’d forgotten something so precious stung.)

“Until… I suppose it would be about seventeen years ago, in this timeline, when I just suddenly- Remembered. And, somehow, I was human instead of a troll. One that had been found, unconscious, in Arcadia and had woken with amnesia. I was staying with Norman as his coworker and housemate in his investigative office. Whilst getting semi-regular checkups from the local hospital, where Barbara works.” He hesitated, feeling the way Jim’s hands had clenched against his shirt. “I-I believe you can follow the leaps of logic from there.”

There was a moment of quiet as James let his son digest what he’d told him. He heard Jim let out a shaking breath.

“But… How are you still here? Why haven’t  you…?” The sentence trailed off, but he didn’t need to hear the rest of it to know how it finished.

“Why haven’t I… Changed back yet? I’m honestly not sure. I’m not even sure what had made me human in the first place,” he said with a thoughtful hum. “I have a few guesses for the exact events that may have changed it. But I assume that the main trigger would be that I regained my memories of the future. And, thusly, I avoided whatever even caused me to change back last time. It could have been from my own meddling, or the extra protections that Norman’s placed, or perhaps the simple act of remembering subverted it. Any of them could be the answer. Or perhaps all of them are. Or even none and something I’m completely unaware of prevented it.”

He leaned back so he could look Jim in the face, his own firm and calm.

“No matter the reason, I’m here. I’m healthy. And I remember. Okay?”

“Okay…” Jim’s voice was quiet, but James could see the tension slowly bleeding out of his frame. Though he couldn’t say if it was from relief or from the exhaustion of his earlier panic attack setting in.

He glanced over at the clock. It was getting rather late in the day and Jim hadn’t eaten that morning. There was nothing wrong with taking a break for a little bit.

“Well. Your mother won’t be up for a while longer, and I’ve already called you out of school for the day, what’s say we use this time to start making lunch? Something larger than we’d normally have time to make. I’m sure Norman and Jack will show up to check on us. So we may as well have something for them as well.” He smiled gently at Jim, remembering how tired panic attacks tended to make humans. “Unless, of course, you’d rather lay down for a bit and get some rest. Your morning’s been unexpectedly trying, after all.”

He watched his son’s brow furrow, carefully thinking over his options. And, likely, everything that James had told him since he came around.

“I… There’s more, isn’t there?” He asked, looking up at his father. “You… You mentioned meddling? What have you been doing?”

“Yes, there is more that I haven’t gotten to yet. But I know there’s such a thing as “too much at once”. So I’d rather you take some time to wrap your head around things before I delve into more.” He raised an eyebrow at the teen in front of him, his tone became lightly chiding as he continued. “Especially on an empty stomach. You’ve already skipped breakfast today and I’d rather avoid you skipping lunch as well.”

Jim flushed, ever so slightly, at the subtle reminder of his fainting spell from earlier. He let his smile come back.

“At the very least, it can wait until after you’ve gotten some toast in your system.”

“Al-alright. But I… I want to ask questions.” James smiled at that. He’d expected nothing less.

“Of course. I’ll answer them to the best of my ability, Jim.”

AN: Okay, quick notes time!

2) Jack is Jack Fain and he was ahem "hired" by Norman as a new assistant for their office. There is gonna be a whole chapter dedicated to the details of that but the simplest is that Jack Fain wasn't his original name and he's not as human as he pretends to be. But his loyalty is to Norman and he actually enjoys his new job and bosses, so there are no odd feelings about how he joined their side.

1) Kanjigar isn't going to die in this fic, thanks to careful planning between James/Blinky and Norman (and a few underhanded tricks that Norman has no plans of telling him about until after they kick in.) He knows James is Blinky and has met the office before, but Kanjigar DOESN'T know that he remembers that he's supposed to be a troll or that he has memories of the future.

They kept him in the dark on purpose to avoid him doing something stupid or unintentionally messing up the plans they're trying to put into motion. (Kanjigar is well-meaning, but he can be a little stupid/reckless at times.)

4) Part of Jim's panic attack comes from leaving the ruins of Arcadia. I just can't believe that he was able to send himself through time and handle it perfectly fine. He's too traumatized/in shock for things to be as neat and clean as the show made it seem.

3) Blinky/James wants to keep Strickler in the dark, for many reasons. But at least one was that he wanted to make sure Janus Order didn't get any hints about what they were up to. Or get suspicious about what their leader was doing without telling Bular or anyone else. Thus far, they've succeeded.

At most, he's figured out that Norman's a powerful weirn that's keeping the Night Things in the area under control.

And that's it for this part. I decided I was gonna split this up into more than one part because so much of it was just- Blinky/James talking. And it felt like it would be too much information at once. It's one thing to recap, but this would be a lot of talking about things that haven't already been covered. So it gets to be more than one part for reading convenience.

Questions and Queries are welcome!

[oldiesstationlover11607]

hiii hi! hello! uhm. could you please consider writing a Tyler Joseph x male!reader? a mixture of fluff and angst, a hurt/comfort if you will, reader is having a very bad mental health day and Tyler improvises a song to sing for him. think the "don't be anxious Josh" song he sang during the qna Livestream. if not it's alright but I thought to ask anyway! sorry if this sounds too similar to past requests you've received, I hope it's alright ^^ have a wonderful day!!

Panic - Tyler Joseph x GN!Reader

Warnings: Panic attack and mental health struggles

Word Count: 1553

A/N: HEYYY I've combined a few requests into this one piece and made it gender neutral so everyone can enjoy it :) I'm going to respond to each inbox message so everyone can see it but hopefully this is good :)

I’d been feeling it for days, this weight pressing down on me like an invisible hand. I kept brushing it off, forcing myself through the routine motions. I was fine, I told myself, over and over again. I was strong. Strong enough to push through. That's what I did.

But tonight, it all felt like too much.

The knock at my door barely registered at first. When I opened it, Tyler stood there, smiling as if it was just a regular night in. He had a bag of takeout, his other hand deep in his pocket.

“Hey,” he said, stepping inside without waiting for me to invite him. His eyes lingered on me for a beat too long, and I looked away, trying to shake off the ache that had settled into my bones.

“Hey,” I muttered, forcing a smile. “I forgot you were coming over.”

Tyler’s smile faltered for just a second. “Good thing I didn’t forget,” he said, glancing around. He set the takeout on the table, pausing to look at me again. “You okay?”

I nodded, maybe too quickly, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Yeah, just… a long day, I guess.”

He raised an eyebrow, not buying it. “You look… more than just tired,” he said carefully, watching my reaction. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” I said, the words coming out sharper than I meant. “Just… rough day, like I said.”

Tyler watched me in silence, his gaze soft but probing. He didn’t push, but I could feel his eyes on me as I sat down on the couch, drawing my knees to my chest. He settled beside me, and for a while, we picked at the food without talking.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked quietly after a while. “You seem… I don’t know, different. I can tell something’s off.”

I shook my head, feeling my chest tighten. “I’m fine. Just a little… overwhelmed.”

“Hey,” he said, scooting a little closer. “You don’t have to act like everything’s okay. Not with me.”

I swallowed, my throat tight as I looked away, fighting to keep my voice steady. “I don’t want to make a big deal out of nothing.”

Tyler leaned forward, searching my face. “Maybe it’s not nothing, though. If it feels like a big deal to you, then it’s not nothing.”

I tried to shake it off, forcing a laugh. “You don’t want to hear about my stupid problems.”

“Actually, yeah, I do,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I care about you. So I want to know what’s going on.”

That simple truth nearly undid me. I felt my pulse quicken, my breaths coming shallow and quick. The panic that had been simmering all week flared up, and suddenly it felt like the walls were closing in. I tried to stand, but my legs felt weak.

“Hey, hey,” Tyler said quickly, reaching out to steady me. “Are you okay? Talk to me.”

I shook my head, barely able to get a word out. “I… I don’t know. I just… I feel like I can’t breathe.”

He was beside me in an instant, taking my hands in his. “Okay, try to focus on me,” he said gently. “Look at me and breathe. Let’s do it together, okay?”

I nodded, though my chest felt tight, every breath shallow and quick. He inhaled slowly, exaggerating the motion so I could see, and I tried to match him, feeling the tension in my lungs ease just slightly. Tyler’s hand stayed wrapped around mine, his thumb moving in slow circles over my knuckles.

“You’re doing great,” he said softly, his voice like a quiet anchor. “Just keep breathing with me.”

After a few minutes, the tightness began to ease, and I managed to take a fuller breath. My grip on his hand loosened, and I could finally meet his gaze, the worry in his eyes softened by relief.

“Sorry,” I whispered, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over me. “I don’t… I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He shook his head, squeezing my hand. “Nothing’s wrong with you. You’re just dealing with a lot. It happens. But you don’t have to apologize for it.”

I felt my throat tighten again, the shame creeping in. “I just… I thought I could handle it on my own. I didn’t want to… I don’t know, be a burden.”

“A burden?” Tyler’s voice was soft but firm, his eyes holding mine. “You’re not a burden. Not now, not ever. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

A tear slipped down my cheek, and I quickly brushed it away, trying to keep the dam from breaking. “I feel like I should be able to handle this. Like I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t need anyone.”

Tyler shook his head, his hand never leaving mine. “Needing someone doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”

I let out a shaky breath, feeling my defenses start to crumble. “But I’m supposed to be strong,” I whispered. “I don’t want to… I don’t want you to see me like this.”

His thumb brushed over my knuckles, his voice gentle but insistent. “But I want to see you like this, because this is part of you. I care about all of you, not just the parts you think are ‘strong.’”

I looked away, feeling the tears starting to fall in earnest now. “I just… I don’t know how to… I don’t even know how to explain it.”

Tyler nodded, his hand moving to gently cup my face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Then don’t explain. Just… let me be here. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

I nodded, the last of my resistance finally crumbling. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close, and I let myself sink into his embrace, the weight of everything I’d been carrying finally spilling over. The sobs came in waves, and he held me through all of it, his hand moving in soothing circles on my back, his voice a quiet whisper of comfort.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, his voice a steady anchor in the storm. “I’ve got you.”

For a while, I just let myself cry, the tears falling freely as he held me. He didn’t say anything more, didn’t try to fix it. He just stayed there, letting me let it all out. And slowly, the storm inside me began to calm, the sobs subsiding into quiet sniffles.

“Sorry,” I whispered again, my voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean to… to fall apart like that.”

“Hey,” he said softly, pulling back just enough to look at me. “You don’t have to apologize. You’re allowed to feel this way. You’re allowed to fall apart.”

I managed a small, watery smile, and he returned it, his own smile gentle and warm. “You’re too nice to me,” I mumbled, feeling a faint blush rise to my cheeks.

He chuckled, his hand moving to squeeze mine. “Well, maybe you deserve someone to be nice to you. And hey, it makes me happy, so really, I’m just being selfish.”

A laugh escaped me, soft but genuine. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Glad I could make you smile,” he said, his own smile widening. Then, as if on impulse, he started humming, a soft, wordless tune that felt strangely familiar. He caught my eye, a playful glint in his gaze as he began to make up lyrics.

“Don’t be anxious, Y/N… I’ll be here till the end…” he sang softly, his voice light and comforting. “Even if you cry… even if you sigh…”

I let out a real laugh this time, shaking my head. “Please tell me you’re not going to make this a full song.”

“Hey, if it makes you laugh, I might,” he teased, his grin widening. “And if I do, you have to sing it with me.”

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “No way. I’m not singing that song.”

He nudged me playfully, his eyes twinkling. “Fine, but you’re stuck with me singing it to you, then.”

“Fine,” I said, laughing despite myself. “But you’re not recording it.”

He mimed disappointment. “There goes my big break as a songwriter.”

I rolled my eyes, but there was warmth in my chest now, a lightness I hadn’t felt in days. “Thank you, Ty,” I said quietly. “For… for being here. For not letting me… you know, push you away.”

“Always,” he said, his voice softening. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re important to me. I’m here whenever you need me, okay?”

I nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude I couldn’t quite put into words. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I whispered, feeling my chest tighten again, but this time with something softer, something that felt a lot like hope.

“You’d probably keep being amazing and strong, just like you are now,” he said, his voice warm. “But maybe you don’t have to do it all alone.”

I looked at him, my heart feeling lighter than it had in days. “I guess… maybe I don’t.”

Tyler smiled, his hand finding mine once more. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

And in that moment, as his hand held mine and his presence surrounded me like a warm blanket, I believed him.

//

REQUESTS OPEN

[faegoddessog]

Woman in Red CH 17/17

Chapter 17: Saying "I love you"

Series Summary: She's a very successful woman who can't seem to find a partner that can keep up with her. He is just wanting to find someone who likes him for HIM, not his fame. Neither of them are prepared for what hits them when she walks into that coffee shop.

Chapter Warnings: reconciliation, Unprotected PIV (play safe ya'll!), cunnilingus, ropeplay

A/N: In this story, I make no mention of birth control or condoms or STI's. Please, darlings, please love yourself enough to protect yourself appropriately when you have sex. <3

US suicide prevention, and International suicide prevention hotlines. Please reach out if you are having suicidal thoughts.

Message me or leave in a comment if you'd like to be added or removed from my tagged list!

@purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight

Here is the Woman in Red Masterlist

Here is the link to all my posted work: My Dirty Little, and not so little Stories.

Thank you, darling readers, for sticking with me on this! I'm sorry I left you all hanging for longer than I planned. The last few chapters were a struggle. But we made it!

Chapter 17: Saying "I love you"

She can barely believe it’s him, that it is Austin. 

They stare at one another, she in disbelief and him in apprehension, both rooted to the spot.  

One heartbeat.

Two heartbeats.

Three. 

“Um, she called me,” he says lamely. It is enough, enough to break the stand off and to break the dam that she has been trying to hold back. 

“Oh Austin, I’m so sorry,” her tears well up and over her cheeks. “I’m so sorry I hurt you, that I denied us. I know it’s too late, but -”

She wants to tell him but her knees begin to buckle with the weight of everything. She is suddenly wrapped in his arms; strong, warm, loving. 

“It’s not too late,” he whispers, “ Aya, how can it be too late?” 

“How can it not be too late?” her mind whirls into old patterns. “You don’t know!” she gestures to the open apartment. 

“Aya!” he holds her head with both hands, tilting her wet face up to him, “I’m here aren’t I? How do you think I knew how to find you?” 

Putting the pieces together, realization dawns on her.

“Dal,” she says quietly. 

“She told me weeks ago, the day we fought. Don’t be mad,” he quickly interjects. “Aya, what Antoni went through was terrible, the pain he caused you is unimaginable.” 

Aya’s eyes close tight, as though she could shut out the memories flooding through the open door.

“Austin, I just.. I don’t want you to….“ she is stumbling on all the pent up guilt, ”I don’t want to ruin you.” As she hears herself, she knows it sounds absurd, but she doesn't know how to say it, how to convey it. 

“Look at me,” he says to her in a soft voice. 

She opens her eyes to his azure pools. 

“I’m not him. I’m not. I would never do that, not to you or to anyone I love,” he takes a breath, “and do I love you.  I love you Aya, and nothing will change that. Nothing. Not that you ran away, not that you couldn’t tell me, not even that you fucked that guy. I still love you, I still want you.” 

She blinks. For a second she had forgotten what they had fought about. She had been so wrapped up in her own past 

“Oh Austin, I’m such an idiot, I should have told you then, but my stupid ego,” she shakes her head, “I couldn't go through with it. Yes, I had contacted him with that intention. I was going insane with wanting you, but not allowing myself to really have you. I thought fucking someone else would help. But after he kissed me, literally right after that picture was taken, I called it off.   All I could think about was you. I didn’t even know what to do. I’m so sorry Austin, for everything.”

“It’s alright, it’s alright. I’m the idiot, I just assumed. I’m sorry,” he is all at once relieved and dismayed. 

“No, no, don’t you dare say you are sorry.  Considering my track record, it’s what I would have assumed too,” she puffs out a weak giggle. 

He just holds her to his chest.

“Si si, you two idiots,” they hear a deeply accented voice from the hall behind them.  They turn to see an old man and woman standing holding hands. How long they had been there, they didn’t know. Long enough, clearly.

“Is how goes,  love is idiots.” The old man says, smiling at them.

“My idiot” the old woman says, squeezing her husband's hand and looking at him with love. She glances knowingly at them before they walk hand in hand down the stairs. 

Aya and Austin turn to each other, both slightly shocked to have this intimate moment witnessed with such wisdom. Austin cracks a smile first, shaking his head and laughing softly. 

“C’mon, you don’t have to face this alone. I’m here for you,” he laces his fingers through hers and gestures to the open door. 

And he was.

Antoni’s paintings were still in the studio. His palate was covered in blobs of dried paint, but his brushes were meticulously clean. Aya cried when she saw them. They were the last things he had touched with reverence and love, no doubt.  Austin held her through it all, figuratively and literally. Listening when she needed to talk, holding space in silence for her when she wanted to be quiet. He didn't ask questions, he was merely present for her. 

When she was done, they started back to the hotel, hand in hand. Both of them spent on the emotions of the day. 

“Hungry?” she asks

“Starved,” he looks down at her. She can’t help but wonder in what way he means.

“Hmm I think there is a little trattoria on the next block,” she suggests.

“Hmm, I think we should order room service, it’s been a hard day” he clarifies, squeezing her hand. 

“We should be soaking in Firenze,” Aya says with a perfect Italian accent. “Let’s at least get some gelato on the way.” 

“Hunny I just want to soak you in” Austin says, eyes only for her. “We can think about Firenze tomorrow,” his actors voice a perfect mimic. “That is, if it’s ok that I stay with you tonight.”

“Please do, I don’t want to be alone,” she leans her head on his shoulder as they walk the narrow cobblestone streets. 

She plops down on the couch in her suite, fingers grazing over the green velvet of the couch as Austin calls Luca’s and orders a pizza margherita, caprese, mixed salad  and the tagliatelle. 

“Get the flan, it’s so good!”  Aya says. 

“We’ll have the flan and the chocolate cake as well.” 

He orders a bottle of the Vino Nobile di Montepulciano to go with it all. 

“My treat,” he said sitting down next to her. 

“I’m sorry to put you through all this,” Aya says, waving away his offer to pay. 

“It’s ok, I like ordering room service,” he says seriously, pulling her into his embrace. 

“No-” she looks up into his grinning face and puffs out a laugh. 

“I know, Aya.  It’s a part of you and I know it’s going to take more than an afternoon to work though.” His eyes soften and his breath swells his chest, “I meant it when I said I love you. Hunny, you are worth it, just don’t shut me out again. I don’t think I could bear it.” 

“Yes Sir,” she said without thinking. 

His eyebrow lifts. 

“Hmm, are we going there right now?” 

“No,” her eyes go wide, “no sorry. I just mean-”

“I know what you meant,” he suppresses a little smile, “I wouldn’t play those games right now anyway. You’ve had enough emotional stripping for one day.” 

“For a whole week is more like it,” she counters.

“A whole month, between us,” he wrinkles his nose and nods. 

“I wish we had a month, Austin, to just stay right here.”

“We have all the time in the world, Aya, all the time.” He pulls her close, kissing her forehead. 

After their meal they curl up on the couch. His arm is around her and she snuggles into his shoulder and laces her fingers in between his own. 

“You are amazing, Thank you for sticking around,” Aya says with a big sigh.

“You need to thank Dalia, without her we’d have never gotten this far,” Austin kisses her forehead. 

“Oh shit! She must be worried out of her mind, I haven’t texted her yet!” Aya picks up her phone and sends a message to her best friend:

-You are the best friend a girl could have. Austin is here with me. We are good now. We went to the apartment. I’m ok, just worn out. Thanks for having my back. I owe you something amazing. You decide and it’s yours. I love you.

Dalia immediately texts back:

-I love you too.Glad you are ok. You don’t owe me anything,  just do me a favor and don’t let Austin go, he’s a keeper. 

Aya snorts out a laugh, and shows Austin. 

“She’s not wrong, I am a keeper,” he says with feigned smugness, then smiles and hugs her tight. 

“I’m not arguing, not one bit. I’m gonna work on being better,  I didn’t realize just how shattered I was under the surface,” she says, head bowed into the space made by his arms and chest.

He gently tilts her chin up to look at him. Just his gaze makes her eyes brim. 

“Sweetheart, we are all broken in some way. The way I see it, we can leave our pieces in shards that still cut us, or we can let love do a little Kintsugi and make us even more beautiful than before.”

“How on earth did I find someone so perfect,” a tear escapes down her cheek. 

“Well you walked into a coffee shop and captured my attention so thoroughly, that I’ve not been able to think of anyone else since,” his thumb catches the tear at her jawline. Then his lips are gently on hers. 

It’s a simple kiss, the first kiss either of them have had in weeks. It’s the first one that really meant more. So much more. It takes her breath away. 

He can see how tired she is as he pulls away. He snuggles her in, holding her, protecting her, loving her. Her breathing slows and deepens within a matter of minutes. 

Aya wakes to find herself naked and in bed. She doesn't remember going to bed or taking off her clothes. She hadn’t drunk THAT much wine, had she? 

She turns to see the shape of him in bed next to her. On his back, the messy blonde shock of hair and his beautiful profile are silhouetted by the bare early morning light from the window. His muscular arm is tossed over his head. She must have fallen asleep in his arms and he had to have carried her to bed. In the quiet, liminal space between night and morning,  when the noise in her head is still,  she finally lets herself feel her love for him, it’s overwhelming. She never thought she’d feel this way again.  She slips over next to his warm body, curling alongside him. Without waking, his arm automatically closes over her and with a sigh she falls asleep again. 

Austin wakes to find her curled next to him when the sun is just creeping into the room

He had held her sleeping form on the couch for over an hour last night. He was processing all that had happened; from the worried call from Dalia the night before to the nerve-wracking train ride that morning. It had been hard to not feel frantic on his flat out run to the apartment, his long legs eating up the 1 kilometer in about 6 minutes. 

He marveled at the perfect timing of his long weekend with Aya’s call for help to Dalia, and the fact that he was so close.  It was as if the Universe itself was rooting for them. With a yawn and a little shake of his head, he had scooped Aya up and carried her to bed. She didn’t wake at all when he had stripped her clothes off and tucked her in. 

Now he spends a moment looking at her on his chest, wondering if her face shows her age. He still has no idea what it is, not that it would be hard to find out, it’s just that he doesn’t really care. She is so beautiful just the way she is.  She is his now and he’ll never let her go. His hand trails lightly up and down her back.  

She stirs, draping a leg over his and snuggling closer.  Still asleep,  her palm drags down to his stomach, lightly brushing against the tip of his morning cock. He quietly hisses in a breath as she lays her hand on his hard shaft, fingers curling under gently. His hips involuntarily flex upward against her. 

He quietly blows out a breath, telling his mindless cock to chill out. Sex was not on his agenda this weekend. In fact he doubted that Aya would be willing, given all the revisited trauma. 

He was wrong. 

After a few minutes, he feels her ribcage expand with a deep, waking breath. Her hand  grips him before moving and curling up onto his chest. She comes fully to consciousness with the ghost of… something in her hand. She doesn't remember what, but something hard. The previous day floods back into her frontal cortex.

The emotions of stepping foot into her previously evaded past.  The release of years of pent up fear and guilt. The catharsis was palpable, the relief more than she thought possible.

And right beside her, though it all, was Austin. 

Her Austin. 

This man, right here.

Austin’s skin under her hand, 

Austin’s warmth along her body. 

Austin’s smell in her nostrils.

Austin’s heart beating under her ear. 

His heart, his beautiful, caring heart that she almost broke. For a second she is nearly swallowed by guilt, nearly shies away from him yet again. Old habits can die hard. ‘Name it, claim it, tame it’, she can hear her therapist saying. 

She sees her feelings and reactions, she sits in them in the quiet. She thanks them for keeping her safe then, but now they are not serving. Time to let it the fuck go. Baby steps, baby steps. 

But what to fill the void? Aya needs… she needs…

“Austin?” her voice is quiet, just in case he is still asleep. 

“Hmmmm,” his voice rumbles under her ear, obviously awake. 

“I know this might sound weird, but would you be willing to make love to me?” her tone is demure. She wants to give him space if he needs it.  “You don’t have to now, I understand if you don’t want it, want me right now, after everything.  It’s just, well, it’s been a long time since I’ve let someone really make love to me.” She put him through a lot and she’s doubtful that he’ll want to jump back into sex right away. 

She is wrong.

Austin, tilts his chin down, brows furrowed in worry.  This doesn’t sound like her, to be timid or even a little nervous about sex.

“Aya,” his voice is serious. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you. I wanted you through it all. Like I’ve said before, I can’t imagine not wanting you.” 

“Really?” Even now?” She lifts her head to look at him. “After all the-”

“Yes now,” he says with surety, “yes always. But are you ready for that, because I can wait until you are,” his face is soft, loving.

“I think I need it, I need you. Need to start, like, re-coding that part of me somehow.” 

“Oh hunny, “ he holds her close, “of course. But are you ready now?”

Her hand drifts down to his cock again. The deliberate and familiar feel of him in her palm as she wraps her hand around his hard shaft kindles a fire in her belly. She looks up at him with eyes like he’s never seen on her before. She is open, vulnerable, yet he can see the heat rousing in their depths. 

“Definitely,” the word comes out as a percussive exhale. 

It’s all the encouragement he needs from her. 

In one fluid motion she is rolled over on her back and he is between her legs, propped up on his hands at the top of a push-up.  Slowly he descends to wide knees, tucking them under her thighs. His eyes soak up the vision of her under him again.

“I love you, Aya,” he says against her lips just before he brushes them with his own. He kisses up her jawline to just below her ear. He inhales the scent of her, before  continuing down her neck and across her collar bone. He lifts his head to look at her. Her eyes are closed, lips slightly parted, neck turned slightly to give him space. 

“Did you hear that? I love you, Aya.”  he says low in his chest. 

Her eyes drift open to his, not concerned or waiting,  but cast upon her with such tenderness, it makes her heart yearn. Her chest imperceptibly arches towards him. 

She frowns a little, “I did, and I -” 

“Shhh,” his finger to her mouth, “I’m not fishing to hear it back. I’m reveling in saying it outloud to you.” 

She gives him a contrite smile. She knows just how evasive she had been. How thoroughly she had shut him down at every turn. Now she watches as he unfurls his heart before her. It weaves a magic that she had forgotten. 

“I love you,” he kisses her smile. 

“I love you,” he kisses her throat.

“I love you,” he kisses the center of her chest. 

He leaves behind a soft trail of kisses and whispers as he descends, sitting back on his heels.

Aya’s inhales shake, her exhales are audibly soft. Every contact of his beautiful mouth is a wholly sacred thing. Every word breathed into her skin is healing, knitting her rent self back together bit by bit. 

Little does she know that the same is happening for Austin, each oral repetition strangely soothing and igniting all at once. 

His last kiss lands just above the vault of her clit. He glances up to her watching him. 

His long tongue emerges and he draws it up along the seam of her lips. Closing gently at the top of her slit. His tongue and lower lip lazily drag along her again, closing this time with just a little suction. Over and over again he laps, reveling in the feel of her on his tongue. Her breathy ‘ohs’ float on the air above him, adding to the slowly rising energy. 

“Come up here,” she says after a few minutes, tugging gently on his messy morning hair. 

He disengages from between her legs and glides up her body. He smiles gently as he pauses to run the tip of his tongue over a nipple before pulling it into his mouth. Her hands comb through his hair before pulling his face closer. Warmth surges to her belly from the suction. 

“What do you need, my love,” his azure eyes are jewel-bright above hers.

“You, I need you Austin,” she palms his jaw as a smile lifts the corners of his mouth, “every inch of you.”

Her legs twine around his, her arms around his shoulders and neck. Her belly arches up into him. She wants as much of him touching her as she can manage. 

Then he is kissing her and the space between them evaporates.  His tongue gently probes her lips apart before dipping in to meet hers. She opens to him, her mouth, her arms, her legs, her heart. 

His hips, chest and belly  press to hers in full body contact, skin to skin.  His cock is caught between them, his tip leaking onto her belly. 

She breathes him in, holds him close. 

“Are you wet enough?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose to hers.

“You were the one down there last, you tell me,” she quips. 

“Mmm, silly question,” he glances away with that shy-boy face, biting his lower lip, “you are always wet.”

“For you, yes,” her voice laced with sultry tones. 

The corner of his mouth turns up as he looks back at her, heat in his eyes. This sounds much more like her, libidinous and sexy. 

His hips lift high, dragging his hard cock back over her mons and along her lips. He works himself up and down her slit with just the rolling motion of his hips. His precum mixes with the definite moisture he finds bathing her inner lips. 

Of course she is wet enough. She has Austin skin to skin with her, hard and wanting her, wanting all of her.  Her hips roll in concert with his, never letting go of his gaze. Her  hand on the back of his neck.

Finally his head nudges its way to her entrance. He pauses leaning down to kiss her lips gently. They stare at one another, the slow burn intense as he fills her inch by inch, going deep and to the hilt.

They stay there for a breath, two. It’s as if the connection of their bodies, hearts and eyes opens some kind of channel and she can’t hide a thing. It’s overwhelming.  

“Oh Austin, I missed you,” she can feel the tears threatening to spill. “I’m so sorry I ran babe.” 

“Shhh, I forgive you,”  his hands cradle her face. 

“I almost lost you though,” her torment rising in her chest. She couldn't bear the thought. 

“But you didn’t, and now you can’t,” he says simply.

His words strike like a blacksmith hammer on an anvil with her heart the ingot of molten metal between them. Sparks fly as she sees him for what he really is; magnetic, angelic, radiant. Suddenly she feels as if she is bigger than her body, an all encompassing  expansion that starts at her chest and travels through her and into him. This is what it means to love and be loved.

“I love you, Austin,” the words finally flow off her tongue, words she hasn’t said in a long, long time. They feel so good to say. 

Austin breathes in her declaration like the sweetest perfume. He hadn’t thought he needed to hear those words, not yet at least, but oh lord they feel so good coming from her mouth.  Here was a woman who, from the beginning, has seen him as just him. Never once had she doted on him for his fame. He had witnessed her dark night of the soul and she loved him, just him as he is.  He had waited, ran and fought for her. Through it all, his love for her was his guiding beacon. He doesn't need to say the words back, but his body does. 

Agonizingly slow, his hips tuck and roll into her, her knees moving with him as he pushes his cock into her again and again.  He sees the red start to rise up her neck from her chest. 

Briefly, he considers stopping, edging her to orgasm. But today is not the day for stopping, not for teasing, not for taking away. Today is about giving. The giving of himself to her and her to him. It’s about adding them together to make something more than the sum of its parts, something magnificent. 

He steadily plunges in and out of her, until her eyes roll back as she arches into him, her mouth open in a soundless scream.  It undulates her spine under him, he slows his motion to witness her cumming. 

“Mmm, hmm,” his appreciative moan resounds in his chest. 

It hadn’t taken long for her to get there. It washes over her like a gentle wave, bathing her in light. She opens her eyes as her orgasm sends shivers over her shoulders and down her body to find him watching her.  She blows out a breath, two, three. A smile begins to form on her lips. The words ‘thank you’ begin to make their way from her brain to her mouth. 

“Again,” he demands before she can utter a word. His lips are on hers as his hips take up their motion once more, faster. 

His tongue dancing in her mouth, his full lips dragging against her own are just fuel to her fire. Her first crest was soothing, tender, and healing. This one is heat building up to a crescendo. 

Austin is metering out his thrusts in an effort to keep his desire in check. He can keep this angle and pace up for a while, but having her responsive body under him is beguiling. He can’t help it when his hand roams over her torso. Balancing on the other elbow, he draws lines up her ribcage to knead her breast. His forefinger and thumb close over her nipple, rolling and pinching just the teeniest bit too much in his excitement. He feels her pussy clamp down on him and he nearly loses it. 

Austin’s play at her breast is tantalizing. When his fingers grasp her nipple and squeeze, it shoots like electricity. The sensation riding that line between pain and pleasure. It’s the last straw.

“Yes! Yes! YES!”  Aya’s second orgasm surges unexpectedly through her body, 

“That’s it, hunny,” he slows his pace as much for himself as for her, “cum on that cock.” his voice is sweet and tender  

“Oh god Aus, i’so good,” she shakes under him as she begins to slide down from her pinnacle.

He barely gives her time to catch her breath. Watching her cum is like nectar to his arousal. His desire shifts into full blown passion. In the back of his mind he is in awe of his need for her. Emotion threatens to close his throat. 

“One more time baby, for me,” his emotions rasping against his throat. He pushes up to his hands above her, nearly pulling out. 

She is still in the margin of her orgasm, but she nods, reaching for him. She will give him anything he wants.

He drives into her with a soft groan. The angle hits them both just right. She nearly cums again on that single intense thrust.

Each hard in, his frenulum rubs against her cervix. Each draw out,  his glans catches her g spot. Her hand drifts down between them. Her fingertips circle her clit then rub fast and light. 

“Oh god, oh yes! Oh god, oh yes!” is her mantra.

Her juices flood from her as she arches. It hits her hard, her whole body spasming around the epicenter of their joining. 

Hearing the squishy sounds of his cock in her pussy as she cums sends him over the edge,  provoking him into mad, hard thrusts. He doesn’t slow, doesn't stop. His hips snap to hers. 

She reaches above her, grabbing the pillow, the headboard, anything to keep from disintegrating on his cock. His unrelenting pace of chasing his own prolongs hers.  It’s mind altering. 

With a final strong jerk of his hips, he groans, feeling his hot cum jettison in spurts into her. She can’t help from clenching down on him as she keeps cumming, her hips and pussy milking every last drop from him. 

With a final gasp, he settles on top of her as she pulls him down. His head into the crook of her shoulder. Legs tangled together, bodies sealed together by the light sheen of his sweat. 

Panting, they float on a sea of oxytocin and dopamine.

Together, in love. Finally. 

Epilogue: 

They each had to go their own ways after . He had about two months left filming, she had a ton of work to catch up on. She visited him any time he had more than one day off.  A few times, when he only had one day, he walked into his hotel room to find her napping in his bed. He loved those days, quickly showering and slipping into bed with her. On those occasions, they barely left the bed. 

She finally cleared out and sold the apartment in Florence. It made her feel like a new woman. She auctioned off Antoni’s paintings, all proceeds going to suicide prevention programs. Austin secretly bought the painting of her that hung over the mantel. He hung it in his house in Hollywood. He could feel Antoni’s soul surrounding it and frequently ‘talked’ to him about loving her. 

Aya  kept on seeing her therapist. 

She never again pushed him away, never again held back. 

Now she was wrapped in rope, floating in a headspace of submission. It was a full body diamond harness with a rope running between her legs.  He had taken time to carefully tie the knots along her sternum and belly. Wrapped the rope around her body with near meditative attention. Each pull through of the rope for a knot or a tie or a wrap vibrating the rope on her body. He had worked hard to get a knot perfectly above her clit but then split the rope on either side of her lips, making them pooch out. Carefully and lovingly he bound her arms behind her back with a simple elbow tie. 

“Will you let me tie you?” he had asked on one of those days spent in bed, “not now, but when I get back to L.A.?” 

She had consented, the memory of his dominance in Budva flooding her mind. And now here she was. She had thought it was all for the sex. But what she found as he bound her slowly and deliberately, was an energy of surrender. She found her body melting, calming and her brian going silent. She gave in to it, trusting him fully. 

When he was done, he didn’t fuck her hard, like she had imagined. He made love to her slow and sensually, making her orgasm break over her in soft waves. What really got her though, was when he was taking the rope off. It was just as erotic and more of a release than just the rope. He held her after, caressed her gently. He listened to all of her deep thoughts that came pouring out with some of the tears she still had to shed. She was amazed how therapeutic it was once she integrated all that had happened to her.  It brought them so close. 

When they attended a premiere, hand in hand on the red carpet, their relationship came out as official. The internet lost its collective mind over the pairing. When asked in interviews about his dating an older woman, Austin’s only comment was “Am I? You know, a gentleman doesn’t ask such a thing.” 

His smile said it all though. He was deeply in love with Aya. Soon after,  it went on the ‘no ask’ list. A few years later they were just another blurb in the tabloids about being a solid, stick-together Hollywood couple. There were rumors about when there would be the dulcet sounds of wedding bells.  Neither of them needed that, they had already committed to one another 100%.

[mayblossomss]

Whumptober Day 20: Giving Permission to Die / "It's not your fault"

Though it had only been ten minutes since Ponyboy ran out of the house, Darry felt like it had been ten hours. He got carried away in their argument, and in a sudden fit of rage, accidentally struck his little brother. The thought made him sick. How could he have done such a thing? It was an accident, of course, but that didn't make it right.

Ponybooy had dashed down the street and into the shadows, leaving Darry and Soda to stand on the porch helplessly. At first, Darry insisted on chasing after him, but Soda assured him that Pony would come home soon enough, and that chasing him would only make it worse.

Even though he knew that Soda had a point, something in his gut-- an older brother's intuition maybe-- told him to go searching for Ponyboy. After a restless few minutes, he relented and got to his feet, making his way over to the front door.

"Darry--"

"Are you coming or not?"

Sodapop sighed, then bounded after him, throwing on a jacket before walking outside. They made their way over to Darry's truck before speeding down the streets of Tulsa, searching for their brother's whereabouts.

The first place that they checked was the lot, but they found it empty: not even Johnny was there. Then, they cruised down the streets, Darry staring out the left side while Soda was watching the right side.

They pulled off to the side of the road and Darry turned to Soda, expression stern. "You go across the street to Two-Bit's, see if he knows anything. I'm going to the park."

Sodapop nodded, jumping out of the truck, and sprinting across the road. Darry climbed out of the vehicle, making his way over to the park. The closer he got, the tighter his chest grew as the overwhelming feeling that something was wrong intensified.

The park was dark, the only illumination coming from a lamppost, which couldn't decide if it wanted to shine light or be as broken as the ones around it. When the light flickered to life, Darry spotted two figures lying near the fountain. Even at such a distance, Darry could recognize his kid brother, and began running over. The closer he got, the more panicked he grew.

Ponyboy was lying face-down on the concrete around the fountain, a pool of water surrounding his body. He was soaked from his hair to his shoes, and it was hard to tell if he was even breathing. Johnny was a few feet away from him, curled into a ball, and breathing heavily.

"Johnny?" he shouted, pushing himself to run faster. "Ponyboy?"

Groaning, Johnny peeked up from where he was lying, and Darry could begin to make out his bruised features as he neared. His face was swollen and bloody, looking almost as badly as it had when the Socs got him a few months back and left that nasty scar.

Darry dropped to his knees beside Ponyboy, lifting him up as though he were a ragdoll. Pony didn't react as he was flipped onto Darry's lap. "Pony, wake up!"

"Socs--" Johnny gasped from where he was now sitting. "Socs got us."

Darry gave Ponyboy a light shake, heart racing in his chest. From the amount of water splashed everywhere, it was obvious what had happened to Pony, and he was furious. "Please, kid, wake up. Say something. Anything..."

"I tried stopping them," Johnny said hoarsely, looking miserable. "They took my blade, though, then beat on me. I'm sorry, Darry."

"Don't be," Darry muttered shakily, still willing his brother to react. "Pony, please..."

Ponyboy's eyes fluttered open slightly, a weak groan slipping past his lips. "Darry?"

Darry could've fainted with relief right then and there. "Oh, Pony, I'm so sorry--"

"Not your fault," Pony cut him off, coughing a little. He was pale to the point that Darry could've mistaken him for a talking corpse. "It's not your fault."

"I hit you, and you ran off..."

"Socs woulda got us anyway."

"Pony..."

"I'm tired, Darry," Ponyboy muttered, looking at him through his hair, which has stuck to his forehead. "It hurts."

Darry's entire body stiffened at his words. "No, Pony. Don't say that."

"Please, make it stop."

He shook his head, tears coming to his eyes. "Shut up, Ponyboy."

"Can I let go?"

It was as though the world had come to a halt. His brother was asking for permission to give up-- to die. Darry was going to be sick. He couldn't answer that. He couldn't say yes. And yet, his brother was barely holding on. He must've swallowed too much water. Would he make it to a hospital, or would that only be a waste of gas?

Darry was only vaguely aware of the sounds of Two-Bit and Soda approaching. All he could focus on was Ponyboy's green-grey eyes staring up at him, silently pleading with him to say it was okay.

"Pony..."

"Please, Darry, it hurts. Everything hurts."

A tear slid down his cheek, and he didn't even realize as his head nodded up and down. He couldn't prolong Pony's suffering, what choice did he have?

Ponyboy's eyes glimmered with emotions before they closed and he let out a tired sigh. His chest started to rise slower, and he barely managed to murmur, "M'not mad at you," before his breathing stopped altogether.

Darry hoisted his brother's limp body into his arms entirely, burying his head into the boy's hair. His body shook with tears that he couldn't hold back as he was so accustomed to doing, and he could only pray that his brother was reunited with their parents now.

[final-girl96]

Firefly Chapter Eight

Three Days Later

My eyes shot open, a gasp leaving my lungs as I shot up. Pain. So much fucking pain shot through me. My hand went to my stomach as I fell back onto the bed. I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my lip. Once the pain somewhat subsided I looked around. I was in a bedroom, one that I didn't know. Taking a deep breath I slowly pulled myself up to sit on the side of the bed. I took a few more deep breaths before standing. My legs were a little weak beneath me but after I found my balance I walked to the door.

I used the walls to help guide me and keep me steady. Walking down the hall and into the living room. A worn couch sat in front of a stone fireplace, a plush arm chair set facing the kitchen entryway. I walked into the kitchen only to find it empty as well. Fear was starting to creep up and the pain in my abdomen didn't help. There was a couple bottle of water sitting on the counter so I grabbed one and chugged it. I hadn't realized just how dry my throat had been.

I looked out the window above the sink and saw Joel. He was kneeling beside a grave. A grave a size of a child. Everything came back all at once. The Adlers, Joel killing Nana after see tried to attack us. The crash, the solider who shot at us. Joel cradling Sarah in his arms, sobbing and Tommy kneeling beside me as I gasped for air. I stumbled towards the door and swung it open letting it hit the wall behind it. Joel turned his head, eye widened before jumping to his feet and coming towards me.

"What're you doing out here? You should be in bed reating!" I down the stairs, staggering towards the grave. "No," I whispered. Before I could even reach it Joel stopped me. His arms wrapping around me gently. "Sa–no, no, no, no." My knees buckled but never hit the ground. Instead my feet left the ground and I was being carried back inside. "Come on. We gotta get you back to bed." I shook my head, "no. I don't want to lay in a fucking bed! What's happening? Where are we? Where's Tommy?"

Tears streamed down my face, hands fitting Joel's shirt. He sighed and sat on the couch instead of going to the bedroom. He kept me in his arms, cradling my head to his chest. "He's put getting supplies. Tryin' to find you something for the pain." I felt him place his lips to the top of my head and move my hair from my face. "We're at an old farm house. Shit got out of hand. Military has kill orders for anyone injured. Doesn't matter what it is. You're ignored they have orders to shot and kill. You're safe. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you. I promise."

Eight Months Later

They were setting up quarantine zones for survivors. Joel, Tommy, and I have been on the road for almost a month now. After I had healed enough to travel we left that little farm house and made our way north. There was a QZ in Boston that was being built. Part of the city was getting a wall around it. There were other place in other cities they were putting QZs too. There was a lot of driving and walking. Highways were either jammed or blocked off. It was hard to get around everything.

We were hold up in an old apartment building right now. We all needed a break. "Maybe we just stay here for a little while," I said. We had just made it out of fucking Texas. You never know how big a start is until you have to drove and walk across it. We were somewhere in Arkansas. We had to abandoned the car we picked up few miles before getting out of Texas. We couldn't find a way past all the traffic jams. There were a couple times that Joel or Tommy had kill someone because they tried to rob us.

Joel wasn't himself anymore. He kept his emotions bottled up now. I mean he never really showed emotions before all this shit but now he didn't show any. And as promised, he protected me. Never straying to far from me and always making sure I was behind him when we did run into other people. There were a few times we had to run from infected. It was almost impossible to put rum them with how fast they are. Especially when they've just turned.

"I'm tried and sore. And we all need to rest. We've been going nonstop, only taking small breaks. Please, guys " Tommy looked at Joel, "place is empty. FEDRA cleaned this build out by the X on the doors. Wouldn't hurt to stay for a few days and rest, get our bearings, figure out our next moves." Joel sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "Fine, we'll stay," he said. I fell back onto the couch, letting out a long sigh of relief.

"Well, I'm going to go look through some of these other apartments to see what I can find. We're runnin' low on food," Tommy said and walked out the door. "If I didn't know any better I'd say he's trying to get away from us," I said. Joel took his backpack off and pushed my feet off the couch before sitting down. "Think he's trying to avoid one of your bad jokes." I gasped dramatically. "My jokes are not bad!" Joel gave me a look and hummed.

I sat up straighter and leaned down to take my shoes off. "God, I think that might be better than sex," I said. Taking my shoes off felt so fucking good; they have been aching from all the walking and running. "Excuse me? Ain't you a little younger to be talkin' about sex?" My head snapped towards Joel who was trying his hardest not to look at me. "Joel, I'm going to be fucking twenty years old! I lost my virginity at sixteen!"

He held up his hand, "I don't need to know all that," he said. I raised an eyebrow and let out a forced chuckle. In the back of my mind a little voice was saying he saw me more like a little sister. I moved so my back was against the corner between the arm and the back of the couch. Then I swung my legs up to rest over his, tilted my head back and closed my eyes. "Yeah. Yeah. I get it. Big brother doesn't want to hear about all the boys his little sister lets touch her because she's supposed to be sweet and innocent and never grow up."

I kept my eyes closed not wanting to even look at him and any kind of reaction. I was seventeen years younger than him. He was never going to see me any more than that. "Your feet stick." My eyes shot open and looked at him. "First my jokes suck and now my feet stink?! You wound me. At least they won't kill anyone unlike yours. You could knock out a whole army." The corner of his mouth twitched but he tried hard not to let the smile take over. "Old ass man," I mumbled.

I squealed when his hand gripped my ankle and pulled me so I was on my back. Then he was hovering over me and my breath caught in my throat. "Keep it up and I'll bend you over my knee." Instant rush of wetness between my legs. "Careful, Joel, I like being spanked." His brown eyes darkened, his jaw clenched and unclenched. Maybe there was a chance that he doesn't see me–never mind, he's moving away and fast. "I'm gonna go find Tommy." And now he's gone.

I cleared my throat and stood up, deciding to look around the apartment. I walked down the hall, pushing the door open to a bathroom. The next door led to a bedroom that definitely belonged to a single woman. I wished I wouldn't have opened the drawer in the bedside table. I looked through the closet and went through the clothes. "What're the odds that she's my size?" I found a pair of clothes and threw them on the bed then looked in the dresser.

One thing you'll need to realize is that you can't buy new underwear so if you come across clean ones grab them. Luckily for me she seemed to be a shopaholic and had tons to choose from. And they were all really nice. I picked up one of the bras. "I can make this work." I grabbed a sheer black one and the underwear that matched. "Not practical to wear in the fucking apocalypse but girls gotta have a something to make her feel pretty."

I set them on the bed and then walked back out in the hallway. The other bedroom was just set up as a guest room. Walking back out to the living room and into the kitchen I checked the cabinets and pantry. Looks like she had gone shopping before shit happened. I wasn't even going to open the fridge. "Gas stove. Let's see if it works." I found some matches and turned the stove on. "Yes! Gotta live these things!" I turned to the sink, took a deep breath and turned the knob. "No fucking way are we this lucky."

I rushed back to the bathroom and started to strip. If there was water, I was going to take advantage of it and take a shower. And it felt fucking amazing. When I got out I wrapped a towel around myself and walked across the hall to the bedroom, dried off and put the bra and underwear on. I was so in my own thoughts that I didn't hear anyone coming in.

"Yn–shit! sorry!" I turned around to see Joel trying and failing to not look at me. "I didn't even hear you guys. Sorry. I tried the water and it worked so I had to take a shower. And with some more luck this woman used to be pretty close to my size and I just couldn't not take some stuff. Are you okay?" He nodded his head and cleared his throat.

"Mmhm. Tommy…um…went to check out another building," he said. "Alone? Why didn't you go with him?" His eyes finally met mine. "Because I wasn't just gonna leave you here alone. I told you I was gonna protect you. He'll be fine," he said. "Okay. Well, the gas stove works. We got pretty lucky. Maybe you should take a shower. You kind of smell." I smirked at him and he rolled his eyes and walked out.

[grizzledyoungimpact]

Kay's Whumptober Day #23

Prompt #23: It's gonna get me by the end of the night/Shadows/Stalking Pairing: Davey RichardsxEdmund Dyer (OC) ((Nonship)) Mentions Of: Eddie Edwards, Lyra Dawn (OC), Harlow Fischer (OC), Cassidy Cabana (OC) Verse: Main, Slight AU

The monster that had been hunting his family for the past few months would get him by the end of the night. Davey had known that the moment he entered the darkness of the abandoned building that he had been given the address of, told to meet the devil himself here to settle the business between them. There was nothing about Cassidy Cabana that frightened him.

He just didn't know the truth that awaited him.

Cassidy hadn't shown up alone, which Davey gathered he wouldn't have, but seeing his adopted daughter Lyra next to the other man hurt. Her eyes wouldn't meet his and he spoke up, "You ain't gotta be here, Lyra. He making you be here?"

"I'm not making her do anything," Cassidy sneered, his arm around Lyra's waist. Davey regretted giving the man permission to marry his daughter. Eddie was right, but that was not something he'd ever admit to his husband. "You know you shouldn't have come alone, Richards. I didn't."

Davey felt his fist clench in time with his jaw, "I can see that. I don't blame 𝐡𝐞𝐫. She's-"

"Not her."

Davey felt something wrap around his neck from behind before he was yanked to his knees. He brought his hands to his neck, pulling and tugging to free himself. It felt like he was being choked by the tendril of darkness. From behind him, Davey could hear the cruel chuckle of another. It wasn't until the being was in front of him that Davey felt true fear. "Dyer..." he choked out.

Edmund laughed as he knelt to one knee in front of Davey, a smirk on his lips. This was the man who had antagonized his son, Harlow, with his powers of darkness. The vampire had done all he could to terrorize Harlow from the shadows, going as far as to feed him. Was that going to be his fate? "You were right, Mr. Cabana. He is as stupid as the other dogs."

Davey grunted as he pushed himself to his feet, finally managing to get his fingers between his neck and the pure shadow wrapped around it. He kicked Edmund in the gut. It broke the vampires attention long enough for Davey to be able to turn the momentum away from his attacker. He growled, throwing a punch at Edmund's jaw, "Not so fucking keen on a fair fight, hm, bloodsucker?"

Edmund cackled and his gaze fell on Davey's eyes completely black, "I am going to drain you, you prat."

Davey threw another punch, only for Edmund to grab his wrist. He could feel his bones shatter under the vampires grip. He cried out, trying to swing his other fist to fight back. He could feel Cassidy's eyes on him, feel his Lyra's eyes on him. He expected Cassidy to stand by, to watch with twisted glee. But Lyra? His Lyra? "Ma fille, please, ma fille. Help."

"She knows the real you, Richards," Cassidy sneered, "She won't be doing that."

"Je suis désolé, papa. Il faut le faire," Lyra whispered in her native tongue.

Davey felt Edmund pull him in close and felt the mans fangs sink into his neck. It was a pain, for a moment. As Edmund lowered him down to the cold stone floor, Davey felt 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝. It was a euphoria that spread over his body. His hands rested on the mans chest and with a low moan, he glanced to where he could see Lyra and Cassidy. Was she crying? Oh, he didn't want her to cry. "Please..." Davey begged, "leave...alone..."

Edmund pulled his mouth away, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing Davey's blood from his mouth, "Leave who alone?"

Davey felt the tears in his eyes, "My pack..."

Edmund and Cassidy both cackled in delight. Cassidy moved closer to where Davey lay, weak in his motions. He swiftly kicked Davey in the ribs, snarling down at him. "I'll beat Eddie next. Maybe he won't be too far behind you."

Davey reached gasping for Lyra, but she stepped over him, taking Cassidy's hand, "Let's go home, Cassidy. S’il vous plaît?"

Cassidy wrapped his arm around her waist, adjusting his scarf as the two left the building. Davey blinked up at the darkness, feeling the shadows closing in. Edmund knelt over the top of him, regarding him with a fascination. "There are things worse than death, you know, Mr. Richards?"

His breaths were coming slower now as Edmund cupped his face, "They...need...me..."

"Oh, Mr. Richards, the time for that has passed," Edmund patted his cheek before his hand traveled to the bite wounds on his neck, "I will spare your life, but you will suffer. They will suffer."

"Promise me not to...that Eddie..."

"Shh, shh," Edmund chuckled, his voice thick with the cruelty he was about to perpetrate, "by the end of the night, he will mean nothing to you."

[balladofaldelis]

PROMPTOBER 2023 DAY 10: QUIVER

Much heavier than the last few, I haven't written the relationship between these two before.

PROMPTOBER 2023 MASTERLIST

TW for parental abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, aftermath of abuse, and suicidal ideation

All it is is the quiver of Soren's lip.

One simple reaction to Corvus' wound is all it takes.

The slap connects with a loud smack and Soren reels, clutching his face. At first he doesn't cry, his mind and body in shock, but as the pain starts to well up in his cheek he trembles and he can't stop the wetness in his eyes from spilling over. Corvus, beautiful and decadent, stares down at him with his critical gold eyes, a frown upon his lips.

"Stupid boy," Corvus hisses, pacing across the room on those long legs, shaking his hand as if he's touched vermin. "I can't believe something as weak and pathetic as you came from me. You put my blood to shame. I can't even speak to you without you being terrified."

Soren's heart is beating out of his chest. He's hardly able to hold himself up, hunched over himself, clutching his cheek and gasping for breath. "I'm sorry pater, I'm so sorry-"

"I don't want to hear your apologies," Corvus spits. They're out in the courtyard of Rimeflower Palace, the snow falling down upon them, Corvus holding his spear in his free hand while he clenches the other in a fist. They'd been training before Corvus had struck him. Soren had slipped and misplaced a strike, nicking Corvus' arm, and knowing he'd done something wrong fear had coursed through his body, leading to that small, pitiful mistake.

Soren falls silent apart from his gasps and sobs, falling to his knees in the snow in a desperate bow, dropping his sword at his side. He can see a spot of blood on the floor that must have trickled down from Corvus' arm. Guilt floods him. He never meant to hurt Corvus, he'd never do that to him on purpose.

I'm a stupid boy, Soren tells himself as he bows his head down to the cold ground, biting his lip to try stop it from trembling. So, so stupid.

"Get out of my sight," Corvus snaps, lifting Soren's chin with his spear just to cast one last pitiful glance at him before he stands back.

Soren hurries to his feet, hurrying out of the courtyard and to his room. He loses his way in his upset, ending up wandering through the halls sobbing, heading past his guards but never answering when they ask him if he's alright. They've seen him panic like this before but he hates it, he hates how pathetic he feels. He thinks of what Corvus would say if he saw Soren walking through the halls in such a state. Corvus would never do something like this.

Finally he reaches his room. He ignores the men outside his room, two guards that he's familiar with, and closes the door hard behind him, dropping to his knees and releasing a shriek straight from his stomach. He sits there on the floor for a while like that, yelling and crying, trying to ignore the sting of his face, wanting to disappear.

One single strike and I'm like this, he scolds, trying to pull together his panting breaths, but they just keep coming. Nothing seems to be getting any better. Pathetic, stupid and pathetic. Why am I still here just to disappoint him?

He drags himself across the floor and climbs up onto his bed, curling up, wrapping his wings around himself, his sobs reduced into a quiet sniffling now. He knows he'll see Corvus again tomorrow and they'll try again, and if he messes up even once it'll be the same old thing. How many times will he do this until he's perfect? Will he ever grow into the man that Corvus expects him to be, or is he always going to be that pathetic owlet snivelling on the floor?

There is nobody to tell Soren that this is wrong, that his father's punishments are harsh, that his expectations are unachievable. There is nobody to hold him, nobody to show him kindness. There is only himself, trying to soothe himself into silence, thinking that Corvus must hate him, that he's undeserving of any fatherly love. He thinks that nobody could love something like him, that he'd be better off dead.

dividers: by saradika

[thegrandharveyspecter]

Trip to a Coffee Shop; a Harvey & Scott Drabble Part Five: Fear

There was a completely different vibe in Little Guy Café when Harvey walked in after work. He knew it wasn’t because he came in later because Mike usually hung around most of the day to give Scott attention.

He wasn’t in at the moment, but Scott was. The problem was, Scott looked like a zombie. Like he didn’t get any sleep the other night or maybe he finally got a customer and it didn’t work out.

“What’s up, Scott?” Harvey asked, stepping up to the counter. “Rough day?”

“Why do you think Mike isn’t here?” Scott’s voice had a strange tone to it. Something defeated. “Can you go? I’m busy.”

Harvey looked around the shop, just like he usually did when Scott said he was busy. He did it a lot in the beginning but it died down for the most part. Sometimes he still liked teasing him though.

“Yeah, clearly you’re in high demand right now.”

“You know what, Harvey? I’ve had it up to here with your sarcasm,” Scott snapped. “I don’t need you reminding me on a daily basis that I’m nothing.”

Harvey jerked back slightly, furrowed his brows. This was not the Scott Lang he got to know over the past month. He was not a man who snapped at other people, even on the few bad days Harvey had seen him.

“I didn’t say you were nothing,” Harvey said, firmly.

“You sure as hell don’t care,” Scott scoffed, moving around the counter. “You don’t even know what that word means.”

Harvey watched Scott move around the shop aimlessly, as if he was trying to find something. What he was looking for, Harvey had no idea.

“What makes you think I don’t care?” Harvey asked.

Scott whipped around and Harvey decided he didn’t like a Negative Scott Lang. His anger or sorrow or whatever this was, was uncomfortable to Harvey. But Harvey didn’t know how to fix it.

“Oh, I don’t know. Your luxury-” Scott raised his hand above his head. “-My dingy little shop.” Scott lowered his hand past his knee.

“You have got a lot of nerve, boy,” Harvey said, glaring. “You have no idea what I’ve been doing to keep this place standing.”

“But I didn’t ask for your charity, Harvey!”

Something told Harvey that wasn’t the problem. Scott may not have liked taking money from other people but he never pushed away Harvey’s help. Otherwise, he’d call him out.

“It’s not charity. Charity would be me buying you an actual apartment so you can have better visitation rights with your little girl.”

“Do not bring Cassie into this,” Scott growled. Wow. Harvey did not want Scott Lang to be like this again.

“You brought her into it the moment you confessed that you’re scared she’ll want to stop seeing you if you don't get a proper house,” Harvey said evenly, because apparently only he was capable of remaining calm here.

“I was drunk when I said that.”

“No, you weren’t even two glasses in when you said that.” Harvey shook his head. “You knew what you were saying and you knew who you were saying it to.”

Scott started pacing again and if Harvey was intune with emotions or a normal person, he would’ve hugged the guy. But Harvey wasn’t a normal person and still had trouble with emotions.

“I can’t…” Scott muttered.

“Can’t what? Get a new house?” Harvey asked. “No kidding. You can barely afford this place.”

“I can’t lose this!”

Scott had yelled before but this was louder and much more different. It wasn’t angry or hurt. No, he sounded desperate this time, looked on the verge of tears even in the dully lit shop.

Harvey remained silent and let Scott have his moment of weakness and vulnerability. Scott wasn’t even trying to hide his tears, something Harvey would’ve done. He was open, sharing everything. Harvey admired that.

“I keep losing. My family was split up, I’ve lost my friends, a proper house, my wife, my daughter was taken away…All I have is this shop.”

“And you’re afraid that if you lose it, you’ll lose Cassie too,” Harvey said, his voice surprisingly soft. “You think she’s disappointed in you, don’t you, Scott?”

Scott looked up at him, sniffled slightly, nodded once.

Harvey could only imagine how long Scott had been carrying this around for, all this insecurity and fear about this shop and his daughter. He thought he saw Scott at his low point when Cassie was taken back home. He confessed things to Harvey at the bar that night, and Harvey thought he got it all off his chest. Apparently not.

“It’s not right for me to speak for Cassie, but I think it’s pretty obvious she isn’t disappointed in you,” Harvey said. “Think about it; her dad owns his own coffee shop. Do other kids parents have their own businesses? Not likely, they all work under someone else.

“But not Cassie’s father. Her father owns a coffee shop and has been in business for a long time.”

Even if the business wasn’t all that popular. At all. The fact that Scott still had the place up and running was a miracle in itself though, even before Harvey came along.

“That’s pretty cool,” Harvey finished. “She’s not disappointed in you. Even if you lose this place, which you won’t, she’ll still love you.”

That was as encouraging and supportive as Harvey could be. It was a feat to think of the right words to say. He didn’t even know if what he said was right. Harvey was only going off the short time he saw of Scott and Cassie together. That little girl loved her father more than anything. Scott clearly loved her.

Harvey started to doubt trying to say anything at all, because Scott just stood there silently, staring at Harvey almost confused. Maybe it was just the lighting in the shop or the tears on Scott’s face. Either way, Harvey felt like he messed up since Scott was so silent.

“I thought you didn’t comfort people…”

Harvey groaned, ran a hand down his face. Of course that’s what Scott was going to say.

“I don’t,” Harvey said, lowering his hand. “This is a one time thing.”

Harvey moved closer and gently placed a hand on Scott’s shoulder, just like he did when Cassie was taken back home. This was going to be his last comforting act. And all it was meant to be was a shoulder touch, but Scott took it as an invitation to hug Harvey. So while Scott pulled Harvey into a hug, Harvey stood there, stiff. He did not know what to do.

Robotically, Harvey raised one of his arms and wound it around Scott’s back. He patted the guy’s back twice. Harvey had seen people do this before. Unsurprisingly, when he attempted to do it, it wasn’t the best.

Scott chuckled wetly, much to Harvey’s confusion, and pulled back. He still had tears on his face, but he was smiling now. That was enough of a victory for Harvey.

“Where did you learn how to hug people?” Scott asked, rhetorically. “That was awful.”

Harvey shrugged. “They don’t teach you how to hug people at law school.”

“Obviously,” Scott said, wiping his tears away with his sleeve. “We’ll have to work on that.”

“No, I’m okay.”

“We’ll work on it,” Scott repeated.

Harvey rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

Scott chuckled again which made Harvey smile too, much to his destain. He’d just prefer to see Scott Lang be how he normally was. Harvey wanted to try and make it possible for Scott not to spiral again. But for now, he was emotionally drained and he knew Scott was as well.

“I better go now,” Harvey said, backing up. “Take care, okay?”

Scott nodded. “I will. Thank you, Harvey.”

Harvey shrugged. “I did it for my sake, not yours. It was selfish.”

“Uh-huh…if that’s what’ll help you sleep better tonight.”

“Goodnight, Scott.”

“Goodnight, Harvey.”

[panadeineforte]

idk man i just DONT know but i honestly think i would willingly cut off a fucking toe at this point if it meant i never again in my life had to hang up YET ANOTHER soaking wet bath mat that i didn’t use, or rinse off another persons dirty dishes so the food doesn’t get caked onto them before they’re washed, or clean out another person’s half-rotting food from the fridge. hell at this point i would literally cut the toes off one entire foot if it meant i could just say “hey here is the extent that i am cleaning up after not only myself but multiple other adult humans” and have it actually be not only heard and acknowledged but actually acted upon, im so tired, i am so so exhausted but i know tomorrow i’ll still have to get up and there will still be work to be done and i will still feel like i have to do it no matter how much or how little of the mess i have actually created because once ive asked once or twice or three times and i’m not listened to i just can’t ask any more. and so i dont, i just suffer, i just do the extra work, i wash the dishes or clean the counter or wipe up the water that the bathroom tap leaks onto the sink, i take out the trash, i take out the recycling, i take out the compost, i sop up the water on the floor in the bathroom, the kitchen, the laundry, i fish recycleables out of te trash can despite the HANDMADE SIGNS i put there explaining where EVERYTHING goes, i wash and fold and put away the tea-towels and the human towels, i collect the mugs and plates that have been sitting outside with food waste drying into them for days and i soak and clean them, i water the plants, i clean up the yard (and it gets messy again) i clean up the yard (and it gets messy again) i clean up the yard (and it’s messier than it’s ever been before), i check whether we have enough washing-up liquid or laundry liquid and make a note to get more, i put the pantry foods back into the pantry, i re-wash the dishes that weren’t washed properly, i reorganise the linen closet so there’s more space for everyone, i work and i work and i work and i just put up with the fact that the people around me get to do what they want, they get to relax or watch TV or talk to friends or whatever else they feel like doing while i clean and tidy and organise and clean and tidy and organise and clean and tidy and organise because somehow i still feel like im going less insane this way than when i was asking and asking and asking and asking and asking and asking and nothing was being done. 

i dont have any better words for it but i hope the gravity of my exhaustion comes through here when i say that i am so fucking tired

[plush-rabbit]

Aphrodisiac Induced Reader + The Brothers

A/N: The brothers!! I hope yall enjoy!! Aphrodisiac induced is always a fun thing to play with. The brothers,, my beloved

-

You really should have known better than to take food that was offered by Beel. You know that he has the right intentions in mind- that him sharing food is a miracle of itself and rejecting him would have his brows furrowed and lips pursed into a pout- but he’s also gluttony. He can eat whatever he wants and as much as he wants without so much of a stomach ache. You, on the other hand, cannot. You should have seen this coming when the cupcake you bite into filled your mouth with such an indescribable sweetness that it made your teeth ache, the flavor otherworldly and leaving you hungry for me, taking greedy bites out of the cutely decorated pastry. There was a sharp pang in your stomach, your body on fire and sex dripping with every nudge that your body made.

You couldn’t be alone right now- or maybe you should have been left alone, maybe that would have saved you from humiliation of your dripping arousal that was leaking past your slit. You’re quick to rise, standing on shaky legs, curled over as your cheeks burn, sweat beading against your skin, only worsening the sensitive state that you are in. It’s fast-acting, making your breaths come out in heated gasps, and everything just feels a bit too much, just too good for it to be normal. An aphrodisiac- a strong one that is making you impossibly aroused. You suck in a sharp breath and go to the person who you know will treat you right.

Lucifer:

Lucifer is a gentleman- most of the time at least. But during your time of need he is perfect to go to. He’ll allow you- or more like insist- that you stay in his office until the aphrodisiac’s effects have passed. You’ll lay on the couch, face buried into a throw pillow while the other one is between your legs. Shame has long been gone since you’ve entered his domain, his eyes never really leaving your shaky frame. When you moan his name, he stiffens, the pen in his hand is held tighter but he still rises, walking towards you in concern. He’ll sit beside you, let his hand curve over your forehead, feeling the heat go through his glove.

He clears his throat, pulling his hand away, and there’s this heavy look on your face, the pillow squeezed tight between your legs, the pillow under your head has faint imprints of your teeth. He’ll avoid touching you, pulling his hand away from you and walking briskly to his desk chair. He can hear your steps across the floor, the way you gasp his name and seem to rub your thighs together for any sort of friction. He won’t spare you a glance, eyes focused on the paperwork in front of him. Underneath the desk, his leg jolts as you snake your arms around his shoulders, your lips wet as they touch his neck.

There isn’t enough time in the day and night for him to focus on his work and on your growing needs that are starting to mark everything in his office. Black ink scratches along the pape, the letters growing shaky as you snake your way onto him. He’s actually startled when you situate yourself on his lap, your sex pressed against his erection. He’s surprised by your sudden confidence but writes it off due to the effects of the aphrodisiac. You’re above him, arms snaked once more on his shoulders and you play with the hair that rests on the nape of his neck.

The feeling of shame is not foreign to the Avatar of Pride but even then, letting you know that he is indeed aroused given the situation does bring a bit of heat to his body. His hands find their way to hold onto your hips, trying to ignore the way that you have begun to grind against his. But there is work to do and despite the growing need to pleasure both you and himself, he displaces you, ignoring the way that you call his name and can’t seem to stop touching him.

The only way to gain his attention that you desperately long for is to push him away, the wheels locking against an edge of the floor and you bend yourself over the desk. Lucifer wants to throw you out so you can be another’s problem but you pull your bottom layer off, your fingers searching inside your leaking hole and pride starts to fuel him. You touch yourself in front of him, beg for him to touch you- of course you would. Slender hands come to touch your body, and you’re already leaking onto the floor, thick, sweet arousal staining the very room that he allowed you to enter. His cock is against you, rimming around your entrance, hearing your cries and please for him to simply fuck you but you did cause him to become distracted from very important work and he is going to punish you for that.

Mammon:

Of course you’d go to him. He is your first after all, why wouldn’t you go to The Great Mammon? But wow, he was over his head when you came knocking at his door. Always eager to see and spend time with you, he allows you to enter without seeing the state you’re in. You stagger into his room, holding his hand and stumbling into him and it’s only then that he can smell the sweet, lingering aroma in the air. He wants to believe you’re just trying a new perfume and now it's made you sick, but it’s worse than that when the hand you’re holding moves to your chest. He can feel your rapid heartbeat, the way your body is in flames that can rival hellfire itself, the pained cry of his name as you try to pinch your legs together in the awkward embrace.

Frozen for a moment, Mammon completely blanks on what to do. He can feel your pain, the aching need in your entire body that makes you feel as if you’re going to combust into flames. He doesn’t know whether to touch you or not. But then you cry his name- sobbing it out in broken syllabus and you cry that it hurts and you think you might die and you're in his arms. Your hold on him tightens and he thinks he can leave you to be- let you wait out the excruciating pain in his room until the feeling fades and just thank him with attention or material objects later. He fails to consider that he is weak to you and when you look at him with teary eyes, he falters.

He stutters in his explanation, talking about how he can maybe go out and get you a toy or something- and he promises to be quick, he is the fastest after all. But then the thought lingers and he imagines your sex stretched with some toy that he chose, and his body jerks. Your vision is growing blurrier by the second and the hold on his hand tightens until your knuckles pale. You pull on him, thanking whatever God is watching down on you, that the door to the prized car he keeps in is open. Even he’s unable to know what is going on until you push him inside, crawling onto the back seat, calling his name and begging for him to join you.

In such a closed space, the Avatar of Greed is trying desperately to avoid touching you. He stays seated in the front seat, fingers drumming along the steering wheel. He cares for the car deeply- one of the few things that gives him freedom that is indescribable and yet, here you are. Your sex is leaking, your cries echoing across the closed space and what is music to his ears in his dreams is now a horrible reminder that you are seated behind him, victim to an aphrodisiac. He needs an excuse to touch you, needs to just feel you for a moment and when you threaten to stain the flawless leather seats with your slick, it’s enough for him to crawl to the back seat.

He never realized how crowded it was, how his elbows and knees tend to knock into things. He doesn’t notice how you’ve kicked your shorts off, how your underwear has become dark in color to your dripping sex. You kiss him, and Mammon is weak to you. His hands are on you, the scent overpowering and he promises to keep the touching to a minimum to only touch what you’ll let him touch and kiss where you want him to. But you’re huffing, grabbing onto him and trying to meet his crotch. The windows grow foggy, the car begins to creak but neither of you pay it any mind. It’s cramped and you’re too close but not close enough, you ache to be closer to him, to have him pressed against you until all you can remember is the way that his chest feels against your skin, the warmth of him, and the way his kisses are so tender and feverish all at once.

Leviathan:

Leviathan refuses to make eye contact with you. He won’t even address you. He sits on his desk chair, playing a game that doesn’t need half of the attention he usually gives. You rest inside his bathtub, curled over he presumes, whining and mumbling something that sounds like his name but he can't be so sure nor does he expect you to mumble his name in your current state. But as much as he wants to drown you out, he can’t. You’re too whiny, crying and begging for a solution, peeling your shirt off because it’s too hot. He reasons that’s because of the aphrodisiac because his room is always kept to a cool temperature. So now, he has you topless in his bathtub and the only proof is your shirt that was tossed where he sits and the reflection above, portraying a teasing, blurry image of your torso.

It’s possibly the worst situation for the poor, introverted demon. He finally has you all to himself and you’re in such a needy state and the plot is so close to a top tier hentai of his- Help! My Friend Took a Drug and Now They Won’t Stop Grinding on Me But I Also Don’t Want Them To Stop. But You came to him, you trusted that he would watch over you and whether it was because he kept his room so guarded or because you trust him, he really doesn’t know which. It’s just too muddled for him to believe that you would actively choose him. So, he does what he does best- he immerses himself in a game. The cutest game that he could think of- one that even if he grew and remained hard would make him feel more like a degenerate than he already does. He puts his headphones on and as if everything is trying to punish him, the loading screen takes forever.

The soundtrack plays loud, booming in his headset and effectively drowning you out. But he knows you’re still crying for him- that you're still in the same room with him. The perverted otuka glances up where he can see your reflection and he catches a glimpse of your hands cupping the swell of your chest and his face burns. Had you caught him peeking before? Was this a way for you to play with yourself without actively touching yourself? He can feel his growing arousal, translucent pre-ejaculate spilling past his slit and staining his boxers. It’s humiliating and he hates that the idea of you touching yourself in his room is more than enough for him to get in the mood.

He’s ignoring you- the only way that he can hopefully soften without actually creaming his pants. He avoids your reflection, ignores how your hands grip the curve of the tub until your knuckles pale, how you swing a leg over and it meets the hard layer of the bath, and for a moment, you still. He’s ignoring your decision to remove yourself from the place he rests and staggering to him. When he feels your hands on his thighs, he startles and the game minimizes into a small box. Unaware of what to do in this situation, he freezes, letting his body tense as you crawl onto his lap, your eyes heavy with lust and body feeling so warm above him that he’s unable to breathe.

His breathing is ragged, his hands stopping on the curve of your bum, as he’s unable to look anywhere else but your face. You’re flushed, gripping onto him, your tongue out as you pant and you’re so desperate for his attention that you lean close. His hands raise in an attempt to push you off but as if it were a cliché moment, his hands curve over your chest and you whimper his name at the simple touch. The third born should have been careful, he shouldn’t have let you grind against him and he surely shouldn’t have let himself becomes distracted by a kiss and yet, here he is, undressing himself as you greedily slide yourself onto his cock, your face scrunching up as every scale is pushed further into your aching hole. Leviathan is holding you close, the computer screen dimming as your can fill him spill inside of you.

Satan:

Eager to learn, he knows the effects of what an aphrodisiac can do to a being. So when you come knocking at Satan’s door, begging for refuge, leaning against him and gripping at his shirt, he pats your hand, and welcomes you inside. He allows you to rest on his bed, letting you bury yourself under his blankets. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea for either of you- you’re inhaling his scent during a time of desperate need, and soon when the effects wear off, he’ll be left in a bed that is drenched in your scent. That, however, is a problem for another day.

In order to keep his mind and hands busy, he’ll finally organize his room. He’s able to ignore your whining, the way that you shiver under the covers and bury yourself into his pillow, how you spread your legs so they are uncovered by the blanket; he ignores the sweet scent of your arousal that fills the room and his lungs. He holds his breath, taking few, deep breaths every now and then to avoid inhaling too much of you. You’re whining, talking through the pillow about how it hurts and you just need something- and doesn’t he have a spell he can use to just rid you of at least a tiny bit of it.

It’s the growing arousal of himself and your constant whining that edges him closer to annoyance. He holds books tight in his hand, orders them by author and published years, height and volumes, but it isn’t enough to drown you out. He regrets letting you enter his room but in the same second, he regrets having the thought. He’s happy that you came to him, trusted him enough to see you in a disheveled state. He doesn’t want to scare you off or make you feel unwanted, so he edges closer to you, tugging on the bottom of his shirt as if he were a nervous boy instead of a grown demon. The bed creaks under his weight and your hand latches onto his thigh. He jerks his leg, your hand only squeezing tighter and when he makes eye contact, your eyes are filled with tears, glistening and catching on your lashes like fresh dew.

You’re aroused, deeply and sweetly. It's a nervous thing to be attracted to someone like you, a demon that has been round and born with blood and wrath etched deep into soul and yet here he is, nervous to even touch your trembling hand. He knows the effects of something as strong as an aphrodisiac and for a demon made one, there is no real spell for it. He lets you lay on his lap, your mouth close to his sex, eyes lidded and holding tight to his hand. His control is fading, his growing need pushing past logical thought. He offers himself, and you rise quickly, already straddling his lap, your chest pressed against his, asking if it is okay. A cold shiver runs through his spine and he nods, offering that he’ll take care of you.

The trembling, nervous demon fades just as quick as it came when your lips are on his. You kiss him, need so transparent that he’s teasing, pulling away, letting your back meet the bed. His smile is sharp, leaning to kiss your pursed lips, grabbing your leg and pulling it upwards, mumbling praise under his breath when you hook your leg around his waist. Satan is heavy when above you, and maybe it’s the aphrodisiac that still lingers on your tongue, but he is unwilling to move away from you, kissing you and hooking his fingers in your mouth when you moan. You’re needy and he wants to hear you beg for him, calling his name. He cups your face with spit coated fingers, asking you to be good for him and mew for him.

Asmodeus:

As the Avatar of Lust, Asmodeus immediately knew something was off in the house when he felt lust in the air. It’s sweet. Intoxicating and bitter all at once. It’s like the sweetest honey known to mankind and he knows the feeling well enough to open his door before you have the thought to knock. He welcomes you into his room, letting you rest on the bed, a small part of him on the inside crinkling when you ruffle the sheets. But, of course, he knows this isn’t you- you would never be so careless. It’s all because of the aphrodisiac making your movements more frantic.

He knows the cure to end it- sex, plain and simple. Masturbation might help but he fears your hand will become sore. Always eager to have somebody in bed with him- out of his own sin and own need for company- he offers you two choices. You can borrow a toy- new, still in the box and all- or he could take care of you. Perhaps he shouldn’t have offered the second option, he knew how excited you were to simply enter a room with another living being but he couldn’t help himself. You look absolutely adorable with your flustered face.

A kiss from the living Avatar of Lust is better than any pleasure that you’ve ever received. And he knows it. You moan under him, your body shaking and eyes rolling to the back of your head, clawing at the shirt on his back. He smiles into the kiss. So eager to be taken care of that a simple kiss was enough to make you climax, your arousal dripping onto your underwear, so heavy in the air, that he pulls away as he feels your breaths start to shorten due to lack of air. But even as he pulls away, you still reach to pepper him with kisses, your breathing reggae against his face, gasping for breath with every parting kiss.

Your hands are on him, eager to pull him into another kiss. You want him and it’s evident from the way that you don’t push away when he removes his clothing. But, he stops for a moment, watching your gaze on him, wide and dazed and you stare at him as if he was something more than just a demon, you give him your worship and you pull him into another kiss. He stiffens, pulling away and asking if this is what you want, touching your bare skin only to flinch away as if it burned him. And when your lips are on him, your smile returns for a moment, telling him that you came to him because you knew he would tend to you in any way, and he melts.

His lips return to yours, kissing you eagerly, wanting nothing more than to just keep his lips on you. And as last time, you shudder beneath him, another orgasm washing through your body, your release spilling pass your slit. Limps entangle with each other and you cry the name Asmodeus, moaning it as if it were the only thing on your mind, sobbing under him and telling him how good it feels. You pet his head and let him bury his face into our chest, peppering kisses until he reaches your neck. His eyes close, an unexpected climax teases at him, as you pull him closer to your aching body. Every sigh from you in a gentle gust of wind, every cry a song that not even choir from the Celestial Realm can rival. He pushes deep inside of you, letting you feel every curve and texture from his cock as it molds your leaking hole into his shape.

Beelzebub:

Beelzebub feels incredibly guilty when you come to him, his shirt knotted in your hands as you explain what you ate. He blames himself, going to hold you only to flinch when you hiss and pull yourself closer to him. It’s an aphrodisiac, he should have known that you’ll be more sensitive to touch during this time. He apologizes as he leads you to his bed, shaking his head and holding your hand. He’s gluttony- he should have been able to smell the scent of an aphrodisiac.

Of course, he’ll let you hide in his room until the effects wear off. He won’t make a single peep but it’s difficult for him. His clothes are sticking to him, his body is in an odd sticky situation where sex clings to him clothes and skin. He knows the effects of the aphrodisiac but he feels guilty for giving it to you so when you cling to him, begging for him to not let go of you, he sighs and stays beside you. He’s stiff, unwilling to move and can only let out a shaky breath, when you press yourself closer to him, hooking a leg over his and curling it over. He can feel your sex- hot and pulsing and he leaves ripped bedsheets as his hand curls into the comforter.

He’s rubbing your back, letting his fingers drum against your spine as he hears your panted breaths. He knows he should stop, that he should at least go and take a shower so he can at least smell good but you hold a tight grip on him. You’re feverish, burning against him and he can tell you want more, your lips open up and kiss along the side of his ribcage but he can’t move.

It’s getting too much- even for him. He doesn’t want to take advantage of this needy state that you’re in but as he rises with a feeble explanation that he’s going to take a shower, you pull him down. He’s above you, your eyes watery and cheating rising and falling with heavy breaths. He can’t kiss you but you’re leaning closer, your lips brushing against his and he can smell the aphrodisiac that still rests like heaven on your tongue. You don’t blame him for the accident slip, you’re just begging for him to take care of you, letting your hand rest over the swell of his breast and he’s growing weaker by the second.

When your lips are on his, your tongue slipping past your lips, Beelzebub can taste the aphrodisiac and he’s melting. His tongue has made its home on your mouth, curving over your pink muscle and feeling the way you shudder beneath him. His name is muted by the kiss, your hands clawing at his clothing and he’s sweaty and aroused, watching you as you strip yourself of your clothes. The lovely pastry that still lingers isn’t enough for him to go into a full rut, but it’s enough for him to bend your legs to your chest, your hole pulsing as his cock aligns to it. The way that you call his name is enough for him to push himself fully into you.

Belphegor:

Belphegor is asleep under the covers, pillow tucked under his head and he does not awaken to your scent growing closer and closer, heavier and sweeter than usual. He doesn’t awaken when the doorknob wiggles, a frantic turning but he does awaken when you slam the door. He is startled awake, his eyes wide for a second before narrowing, teeth flashing as he lets out a low growl. He stops when he notices it's you, yawning and telling you to get into bed with him. It’s only until you’re beside him, greedily taking the invitation, that he realizes the state you’re in.

He has to prod you until you tell him what’s happened, watching as you bury your face into a pillow, whining out pathetically as you tell him what happened. He laughs, it’s sharp and teasing. Of course, you took an aphrodisiac by accident. It could only happen to you. He tries to be sympathetic with you. He knows you must be in a great deal of pain, but then again you came to him and that makes him stay awake for a bit longer, turning over on his side and watching you struggle to not touch yourself despite the aroma of your arousal that is thick in the room.

Sloth offers to put you under a deep sleep- he can’t promise that you’ll be still- but he can promise that you’ll wake up without the effects of the aphrodisiac. When you refuse, he merely shrugs, turning over with a pout. He’s disappointed but he can’t do much. He does tell you that he is tired, so he’ll be sleeping but you’re allowed to spend the rest of your heightened arousal in the attic with him. The power of an aphrodisiac- one made a devil no less- is strong, and giving it you in even worse. He can sense the neediness in you, the way you watch him with lustful eyes, your mouth parted the eagerness to get into bed with him.

As promised, he slips off into a sleep, leaving you alone. But your body is on his, legs parted with his single leg. He isn’t asleep long enough for him to be in an actual slumber before he feels the bed move ever so slightly. It’s constant and your whining, mumbling apologies and he opens his eyes to find you humping his leg. It’s pathetic and hot all at once, watching you get off on his leg alone, so desperate for release that you’ve succumbed to humping him. His smile is tight, turning over and letting his tail curl around you, the static in the air only causing you to arch your back when his demon form pops out. It pricks against your wrists, the fur unkempt as he rises above you.

You wanted his attention and now you’ve gotten it. You’ve woken him up from nap, it’s normal and expected for him to be grouchy but thank goodness that the smell from your leaking sex is more arousing that anything else he’s encountered. You’re on your knees on the mattress, his hips meeting yours and letting out a loud grunt when he finishes. He’s tired and over it but his cock still stands upright and you’re still needy and awake, your sex leaking with his arousal. Belphegor will lay on his back, offer himself in his sleep to you until you’re content. The last coherent thought he has is sighing at how warm and squishy you feel against him.

[lovemeian]

sleeping on the couch—

characters ! firefighter!daichi sawamura, husband!ushijima wakatoshi, and yuuji terushima x gn!reader

slightly dubious fluff, angst + hurt/dubious comfort + mentions of the possibility of children in ushi’s !

+ let’s go captains

+ written across several days and pauses, so, it might read awkwardly?

suggest! ; tip! ; taglist!

the couch is comfy too, but why are you there and not beside him?

FIREFIGHTER!DAICHI SAWAMURA—

part two.

+ i just have a lot of feelings for firefighter!dai okay? let me have this

you were maybe feeling a little petty, wanting to punish dai like this. but from the fight earlier, he had really hurt your feelings and had only left mid-sentence as he was called on duty.

“we’ll talk later when i get home okay? okay,” he looked worriedly at his watch, kissing your forehead and dashing to the door; not at all seeing your expression or the way your frown deepened when he had answered his own question.

you knew he was needed, and you were so happy and proud of his job— he was so good at it and he was a modern day hero; everyone congratulated you on having such an amazing partner, but all your pent up emotion, maybe neediness from being neglected in the past few weeks, and that fight— your sadness and anger had formed a solid wall of pettiness. he was usually so respectful, not wanting to leave arguments like these— but leaving and answering his own question as if he expects you to just follow through, whew. 

your pettiness flew and claimed a spot. too stubborn to move or try.

dai comes home smelling of smoke and smog; there are traces of blackened ash all across his skin and uniform, and he’s weary as he says a quiet, ‘i’m home’, looking exhausted to the bone as he tested the soreness of his muscles and promptly wincing.

despite it all, your heart breaks. it was the very definition of loving someone, you think. caring for another human being despite it all. so you mumble, “bath’s all ready, go and clean yourself up before dinner.”

“oh.” his eyes fluttered upward, seeing you there, and it makes you rigged because you’re suddenly blasted with so much love, and his smile makes your knees so weak. “thank you.”

“mh.”

after that, your conversations are short. and dai seems to have forgotten how you ended things a few hours ago. he seemed to be too tired, and to be honest, you didn’t want to pile this on him, not right now.

“i’m going to sleep early, love,” he said as a way of goodnight. you only mumbled something unintelligible in response. as soon as he padded into the room, you waited a solid thirty minutes, checking to see he was sound asleep with a little frown on his face, before you quietly tried to peel off your pillow. but dai’s body had always been alert to disturbances, a processed habit he got from his job. you froze as he groaned, eyelids fluttering. “my love?”

“sorry, go back to sleep,” you murmured. but as his eyes adjusted, making sense on why you were taking the pillow and seeing your expression, finally, the first time since the fight ended in a cliffhanger.

“are you— are you sleeping elsewhere?” he asked, cloaked in sleep and still with frown. but he started blinking, growing more awake, and sitting up.

“just for tonight, dai. i— i need space.” you hated how you felt a little ashamed at saying this, wanting not to sleep next to him still a little angry, remnants of the argument dug deep into your mind.

“no, you uh,” he sat up properly now, tossing his legs to stand as he scratched his head. “you sleep here. i’ll sleep on the couch.”

“dai, no, i know how sore your body is.”

he met your gaze, serious and a little heartbroken, but his expression was set in determination. “i am not letting you sleep on the couch. sleep here, love, it’s okay. we can talk about it tomorrow.” he tried for a smile.

you sighed. “now i feel silly. let’s just sleep together.”

“it’s not silly, it’s okay—”

“daichi, please. i’d hate it if you slept on the couch.” you took his hand and squeezed reassuringly. “we can talk about it tomorrow.”

he nodded. “i’ll take the morning off. d’you—?” he opened his arms as he settled back down, hesitant. you always slept in his arms; he was your personal heater and best body pillow. through the years of being together, it was routine for you to melt into his arms and mould yourself there. with the assurance of a proper conversation tomorrow and the love that is still present, you snuggled into his arms, fitting like two pieces of a puzzle. “i love you.”

“i love you too, dai.”

HUSBAND!USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI—

the argument had started out as a silly comment you had made, in between the talks about the possibility of children, and he had stubbornly tempered on the fact that his kids, your kids together, will be going to shiratorizawa. period.

it came out of the nowhere. despite the fact that you knew your husband’s tone has always been like that, it prickled at your skin at the dismissal of the fact. as if it was a fact. no arguments needed.

you had argued that you didn’t go to shirotarizawa yourself, and that your future kids should have the choice on which school to go to, as they are the ones learning there. but he was stubborn about it, making you feel like his choice was superior and is the only answer.

and from what you thought was just a silly thought had turn into a classist stubborn view of your husband, and you did not like it. not one bit. as he went to practice, you had refused to talk to him, ignoring his messages and one time attempted call as you mulled over the entire argument. you went to work as usual, pushing all of this to the back of your head as every time it popped up like a notification it brought a sizzle of annoyance and anger that you exhaled out of your nose in sheer stubbornness.

“why haven’t you been answering me, y/n?” he asked as soon as he came out of the bathroom. he had come home fifteen minutes before, but you had looked so busy with work you had brought home— zoom calls with the familiar intonation of your professional work voice — that he merely passed by you as quietly as he could.

but now you were in the room with him. . . currently piling pillows and pulling an extra cover.

“i was busy,” you answered in a clipped tone.

“mh.” as he checked his phone with a glance, he pursed his lips as he watched you pat through your pillows into a tower. “what’re you doing, love?”

“i’m sleeping on the couch.”

he blinked. “why?”

you met his eyes for the first time since he came home and he drew back at the frostiness. then you hauled your pillows and covers in your arms, piled high that it completely blocked your face. you started moving out of familiarity of the space. “because my opinions is not respected in this house and i don’t want to sleep next to you pissed. i made my vows, sir. and i am following through.”

just before you can get past him and through the doorway, ushi took your pillows and you can finally see the vicinity again and your sudden towering husband. “ushi!”

“toshi,” he corrected. you huffed at him. “please tell me why you’re angry enough that you’d rather sleep away from me.”

“because apparently, our imaginary children are already going to shiratorizawa without my consent, their parent, because apparently, their other parent rules with an iron fist and has the first and last say in any decision in this house. now if you will.” you snatched back your pillows and lifted your chin high as you marched to the couch.

as yo fluffed up your pillows with a frustrated huff, you don’t notice your husband padding toward you until he gently, delicately touch you with his finger. more of a smother than a poke, but you don’t turn or notice him until his deep voice said, “i am sorry.”

“sorry for what?”

“sorry for making you think you can’t make decisions with our life together, especially about our future. i— you know i don’t mean it like that. that my school was better than yours.”

“then what did you mean by that, ushi?” you sighed, turning.

“i, i do think my school was better than most, especially sports-wise, but i had never intended to imply that it was better than yours or that your decisions count for less about us. i just. . . i just want what’s best for our future kids. we can talk more about it in the future, when they’re actually here. but i’m sorry. please don’t sleep here, it’ll be back for your bad. and please call me love again. i don’t like it when you call me by my surname.”

you sighed, wounding your arms around him. he immediately reciprocated. “it’s late now, we can talk about it tomorrow, maybe? i just want— toshi, i never want to feel like your decisions are absolute. that your word is law. we can’t have a marriage like that, nor a family.”

“i know, i’m sorry.” he tightened his hold around you, almost hesitant when he asked, “can you sleep in the bedroom again?”

“okay.”

YUUJI TERUSHIMA—

years together, through trials and tribulations, you know how ugly a disagreement can turn into an argument with your boyfriend. through it all, you’ve learned the things you can’t say, can’t press, and can’t bring into a heated table that can easily snap it to something very ugly. tears and all.

yuuji has grown the most. he cared about you and he knew he needed to be a little more delicate, needed to be a little bit kinder with his thoughts before it came out of his mouth.

doesn’t mean that neither of you don’t slip.

the day of the argument, usually, yuuji would’ve held himself back a little. it was you he was talking to after all, and years together had made a worn path for him to step through in case it got a little dangerous. but he was too tired that day, muscles sore from the everyday at the parlour, made worse by a client who had not been clear about how she wanted her hair, and than a talking to by his manager— it’s been a hard day. and when you asked him about a girl who had written her number on his arm — things blew out of proportions.

neither of you were in the wrong, but neither of you were ready to forgive each other, too caught up in the anger and the hurt. insecurities crooked and thorned through the niches and edges of adoration and love.

as he finished doing the dishes, drying his hands on the towel rack, you come out of the bedroom piled high with your pillows and a fresh cover. yuuji raised an eyebrow as you started fitting your things on the couch, refusing to look at him as you settled down, turned off the lights in the living room, and turned your back to the world.

“are you really going to sleep there?” he scoffed.

“i don’t know what your eyes aren’t seeing, but yes, yuuji, i am sleeping on the couch,” you said without turning.

“your back is going to be all fucked up tomorrow.”

“better than sleeping next to you right now.”

“really?”

you tilted your back to him, eyes steely. “really.”

“fine,” he spat back, turning off the lights and marching straight to the bedroom. he closed the door with an audible click, stuffing himself with the covers and starfishing. it really was fine. you always hogged the covers, snuggling on his pillows and leaving your scent everywhere— you were so touchy, even in your sleep, you always sought after his body, anything you can grasp. now, he won’t wake up muffled by your body, desperate to breathe. he’d be by himself, able to breathe, smelling of himself, and warm under the covers.

about an hour trying to sleep, he swore audibly, flipping the covers off of him as he stared at the ceiling, guilt and annoyed and wanting nothing more than to be hogged and have you starfished on top of him.

you ruined him for a single man’s sleep. so he sat up, clenched his jaw, as he marched straight to the sofa. not even an hour in, and you have already starfished, limbs askew and out of the sofa. he watched the rise and fall of your chest incredulously.

how could you sleep so well without him?

 with a seemingly permanent frown accompanied by a pout, he puts his hands underneath you and hauled you into his arms, startling you awake.

“wha— yuuji? what’re you— put me down,” you groaned, half asleep as your arms wound around his neck subconciously.

“how could you sleep so well without me?” he muttered, glaring at your half open eyes. “when i can’t without you?” he laid you down and settled and curled next to you, wrapping his arms and legs, totally pulling you into a koala hug. “i love you,” he whispered against your hair, inhaling your scent like a man depraved. “even when i’m angry. sleep, love. we’ll talk about things in the morning, huh? don’t ever sleep without me, hurts my heart.”

“you’re such a baby, yuu,” you mumbled, reaching for his face and he snuggled against your palm. “but you’re my baby.”

made by lavi <3

taglist: @asaitashi , @jadasz , @encrytpta , @kenmaslov3r @wuyaiscrow​ @sakusasimpbot

[1tad0ri]

hiii. can i request a rough nsfw with sukuna where he's so frustrated with jujutsu sorcerers that he decided to unleash those said frustrations on the reader? like he just won't stop until he release all the stress inside him— kshjsch i feel like sukuna would do that 😳 he'll be rough all night long

warning: degradation, choking, breath play, very mild pain kink, hate fucking

ryoumen sukuna x fem!reader

i feel the same way so thank you, i’m going to be thinking about this for a long time

“you know, i really thought you’d put up more of a fight.”

the grip he had on your neck was bruising, but certainly a lot looser than you thought the king of curses would be. your hands clawed at him nonetheless, although the whole current concept of being shoved against the wall of your bedroom wasn’t exactly something you were complaining about.

the three impatient raps at your door earlier had you rolling out of bed, wanting to sleep after your latest mission. you’d thought it was yuuji, hungry for your warmth, but when you unlocked the door, rubbing your eyes and stifling a yawn, you’d been unceremoniously shoved backwards, the wind knocked out of you when your back met the wall. the glint of tattoos on a familiar face in the moonlight coming from your window told you all you needed to know.

sukuna watched you curiously and then his sickening grin was back, fingers squeezing a little harder. you gasped, stretching your neck away. “what? not going to answer?” he sneered, “maybe you all really are the same. scared little fucking sorcerers.” he leaned closer, breath fanning across your face. “isn’t that fucking stupid? you’re all a bunch of scaredy cats, aren’t you?” he pouted mockingly when he spat out the name. his lips were so close, if you just tilted forward—

no. whatever morbid fascination you harbored towards him didn’t change the fact he was... well... him. you stood your ground, leaning forward to bump your nose against his, your own scowl evident. “you can’t do anything, sukuna. once we find all the—”

“all my fingers you mean? the ones you can’t destroy on your own so you have to come up with some little plan to get rid of me?” he laughed bitterly in your face and you bit your lip, trying to calm your fury before you did something you’d regret. “it’s all the same. you’re scared of me. you don’t have the upperhand. never will,” he whispered at the end.

“i’m not scared of you.” your thoughts tumbled out of your mouth plainly without a second of hesitation, but the tilt of his head in question, his forehead brushing against yours, made you think that perhaps telling the truth around him was a very bad idea.

it was dark, hard to see his face, but god he was so close. “yeah? what are you then?”

good question. wait, no, bad question. bad, very bad, because you already knew the answer to it. or... did you? vocal chords at a stand still, there was no way to verbalize what you felt.

“hurry up, brat.” sukuna tightened his grip on your neck before loosening it just the smallest bit so you could speak. “i don’t have all day. how do you feel then? you with your little human emotions.”

words... what are the words. it turns out staring down a literal demon king in the eyes wasn’t the optimal place to think. “i... i don’t know.” your voice was small, unsure, lying.

the staring contest, backed by deafening silence, continued for a mere beat longer as you regarded each other with quiet contemplation. you could just barely make out his eyes and the curve of his lips, parted slightly. his breath was warm.

you couldn’t take it anymore and it seemed like he couldn’t either—you both automatically tilted your heads, lips pressing against each other easily, eyes falling shut. mouths sliding against the other, he gently pushed your head back to hit the wall, tongues running over one another. it was slow, hot, and you decided you should probably thank yuuji for keeping his lips so soft.

sukuna sucked your bottom lip between his own and your hands fell away from his grip on your neck to pull him closer by the front of his shirt (he hadn’t ripped it apart yet, an impressive feat). his leg slipped between your own, and you pushed down on it with your hips, the friction making you open your mouth further to him, something enticing about the fact he was a very good kisser.

but then it was like a switch flipped and his hold on your neck tightened once again. “what... what am i doing,” you thought he mumbled, voice hoarse (then again, your brain wasn’t exactly listening when you were busy making out with someone like him), kiss faltering for a brief moment. his lips curled into a frown, disdainful.

shoving you further into the wall as he pushed against you with his mouth, sukuna was all sharp teeth and rough lips now, swallowing up your whimpers, nothing soothing about it like his previous actions.

“i fucking hate you,” he spat, his hand abandoned your neck and moved up to squish your cheeks together, finding satisfaction in the way your lips puckering out, barely able to move. “do you hear me? i hate all of you.”

“the feeling’s mutual,” you mumbled around his grip, hazy from the kiss but knowing what you stood for, fury evident in your eyes and furrowed brows. he was the enemy. and you were... you. and... and...

you were met with a bitter laugh, your stomach curling into knots at the sound. you hadn’t noticed his free hand tugging at your waistband until it was too late, his hand slipping in and wasting no time running two fingers harshly against your soaking folds. “why are you dripping wet then? a slut and a liar?”

“fuck off,” you mumbled again, a lot quieter this time, face burning hot from embarrassment.

“i’ll fuck off when you stop acting like you want to fuck me.”

his words made you straightened up. “i- i’m not—”

“you’re not acting? mmm,” sukuna let go of your cheeks just enough that he could properly kiss you, tongue forcing it’s way past your lips, “of course you’re not. of course.” he was mocking you and you couldn’t say anything.

a finger pushed into your heat and you bit down on his lip in surprise, although the pain only seemed to spur him on further, a second finger easily shoving its way in next to the first. curling, pushing, rubbing against that sensitive, spongy spot inside of you, sukuna’s fingers had your legs shaking, the knee he still had pressed between them the only thing keeping you up at this rate. the grip on your face as he hummed against your mouth prevented you from avoiding eye contact with him, lips wet as he disregarded any type of mess he was making.

he was everywhere at once and you felt trapped. hot—it was too hot, your body was burning.

“su- ku... n... a,” his name came out garbled between the onslaught of your face being squished together and the sloppy kisses he pressed into you at irregular intervals. when his thumb rubbed against your clit as the two fingers continued to pump in and out, you gripped his shirt so hard you were sure you would rip it this time. “too... mmm,” a kiss that was more tongue than lip cut you off and you weren’t even sure if he heard you as you choked out the next words, “mmm, hah— much, suku—”

at once he released you, almost letting you drop to the floor, but you were able to just barely steady yourself against the wall in time. sukuna stepped back and away from your shaking form. you were gasping, lungs burning.

“w...why did you—”

“i can listen you know.” you could practically feel his eye roll from his dripping tone, even if you weren’t looking at him. “‘too much.’” he laughed as he mocked you. “more like you’re too weak.”

you were thankful he actually seemed to have a brain, but still— “you’re an idiot.” fuck, your lungs hurt, the retort scraping against the walls of them. he was good. it had been a while since anyone had left your head spinning like that.

sukuna flicked a hand dismissively. “‘an idiot’ who’s giving you a chance to breathe, you brat.” he decided to ignore the name for now, thankfully for you (although you didn’t exactly see it that way).

you couldn’t choke out another snarky response and simply focused on clearing your head. he gave you a chance to think and once you seemed clear-minded, he wasted no further time.

“bed.”

you blinked, eyes bleary, peering up at him from where you bent over, trying to catch your breath. “w...what?”

“on the bed. now.” he shoved his hands into his pockets, watching you blankly as you regained your senses. “unless you want me to fuck you on the floor?”

“no...” god, what was with you? or rather... what was with him? the ache in your core answered your question, your cunt feeling so empty now—he hadn’t even bothered to let you cum and you already wanted his fingers stuffed back into you. he was irresistible—you felt stupid even having the thought.

sukuna’s eyes narrowed, close to shoving you to the ground to finish what he started but exercising restraint for your sake. you’d need it. “i’m being nice and giving you a chance to get comfortable on your stupid bed, you idiot. go. now.” he was getting tired of repeating himself.

the last few snarky words and your own desire for him actually had you moving this time, climbing up onto the bed a few steps away and settling uncertainly onto the covers. you went to look up for further instructions but he was already on you, both of you tumbling back onto the mattress as he practically shoved his tongue down your throat, hands pushing up and under your shirt to squeeze your tits.

“take this off.”

you automatically pulled at the hem of the flimsy t-shirt at his command, sukuna giving you just enough room to get it over your head, and then his teeth were on your exposed breasts, marking them up. your fingers threaded through his hair, his head moving under your touch as you watched his mouth work with half-lidded eyes.

you didn’t think you’d be able to change in front of anyone any time soon, already knowing the blossoming colors of bruises would be apparent the next morning. reminder to self: cancel your upcoming shopping trip with nobara; the dressing rooms with her would surely be a disaster if he kept this up.

“who’s are these?” his grip was rough when he cupped your breasts, squeezing.

you immediately knew the answer he was looking for, all too eager to hand it over. “yours. fuck, they’re all yours.” your hands ran through his hair, urging him to continue his onslaught on the previously unmarked skin.

sukuna laughed, thumbing your nipples, giving one of them a light lick that made you squirm. “you’re more obedient than i thought you’d be.” he pinched the buds, rolling them between his fingers as you squeezed your eyes closed, gasping at the pain. “but that’s enough of that.” your eyes snapped open, about to ask him what the fuck he meant by that, but he was already setting to work.

his fingers hooked around your sleeping bottoms and pulled them down with your underwear, the night air cold against your damp lips. you rubbed your thighs together but his hands on your knees forced them apart as he peered down at you. you felt so exposed under his hungry gaze, entirely bare for him to see while he was still dressed. unfair.

“wanna see. don’t close them,” was his short, clipped explanation as he kept your legs spread. one hand on your knee, sukuna brought the fingers of his other to run along your folds again just as he had done before, except this time he could actaully see how you quivered under him, cunt glistening and dripping. he slipped two fingers to run between the folds and then popped them in his mouth, sucking the slick from his fingers and maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. you couldn’t look away.

he hummed, content as he licked the last bit off of the tips. “you don’t taste bad for a slut.”

all the focus was on you, him criticizing everything little thing you did, and you were a mess because of it. not even a chance to run your hands over his chest? unacceptable. you pointedly ignored his comment, pining after some form of a reward instead. “at least take your shirt off. thought you hated those things.” the clothing ratio here was starting to grate on your nerves.

sukuna rolled his eyes but crossed his arms over his chest to grab ahold of the sides of his fitted t-shirt and tug it over his head. you watched, mouth watering at the sight—the moon provided excellent illumination for the scene, his body revealed inch by painstaking inch as he disposed of the fabric. god, he was so hot. you hated it.

muscles on display, sukuna raised an eyebrow at you as though he were asking, happy now? your silent reply came when you reached up to run your hands over the dips of his abs, his chest solid and tattoos curling over the surface.

“that’s better.” you made a show of your gaze tracing over the surface before looking up at him, smiling to yourself. “surprised you didn’t just rip it off.”

sukuna simply scoffed and swatted your hand away, moving from between your legs so he could work off his pants and kick them off to the side.

“knew you’d like to see me take it off properly,” he answered at last, back to you as he wiggled out of his boxers finally and chucked them off the foot of the bed. you didn’t get much time to admire his flexing back muscles before he was on you again, settling between your legs like he knew he belonged there (you weren’t sure you could argue with that point).

he pumped his cock, grabbing one of your legs and pushing it back. precum leaked from his tip, length already fully hard, and sukuna was enjoying your gaze on him maybe a little too much. leg shoved back and in the air, you whimpered when he rubbed the head along you. you didn’t need prep after being fucked by his fingers earlier you supposed and you weren’t sure you’d even be patient enough to sit through him stretching you out any further with anything but his dick.

you wanted to feel it yourself and so you reached a hand out to wrap around the base, captivated by how he watched you as you thumbed the slit, breathing heavy but not saying anything, letting you do what you wanted.

you wanted it in you so badly.

when he opened his mouth in question, eyes flitting up to yours, you were quick to cut him off, already knowing what he was going to ask. “yes, i’m sure.” you didn’t know curses could actually be compassionate, and it was cute when his jaw locked hard at your confirmation and he nodded, shifting his gaze back to your hand.

you released his cock and sukuna set back to lining it up with you, grip on your leg locking the limb in place. you shivered under his hold and he grunted when the head nudged your entrance, slowly pushing in.

“fuck. take it. take it all in. fucking slut.” he sunk fully in in one motion, the pace enough not to have you screaming out at the stretch but making your breath catch in your throat all the same. “yes, just like that. a good bitch, that’s what you are, aren’t you? look at you.”

you didn’t even know what to think at this point, a shaky resemblance to his name tumbling from you, more so a moan than actual talking. you could feel him everywhere—so full, so overwhelmingly full.

shoving your leg back further until it was almost painful, cock bottomed out in you, sukuna snapped his fingers in front of your face. “i asked you a question, brat. or are you already too fucked out of your mind to answer?”

you couldn’t breathe, head heavy, and tried to nod in confirmation as you struggled to puzzle through his words, but then you shook your head to answer no—god, you were confused. what was the right answer? what was happening?

maybe you really were already too fucked out of your mind. you vaguely recalled his words from earlier and were able to form a somewhat coherent response. “a good bitch... yes, i a- wait.” what were you saying? first you let him fuck you and now you’re openly submitting to him? the curse that had nearly cost you and your friends your lives countless times?

pride wouldn’t let you go along with his little game even as your dripping pussy told a different story. “i’m not anything to you.”

sukuna scoffed, hips grinding into you as he leaned over you, hooking both of your legs over his shoulders and pressing them back, close to your head. “and here i thought we were actually starting to get along.” a mirthless laugh left him, both of you eye-to-eye now where you lay.

fire burning in your eyes, you were very much reminded why you hated him so much. a self-obsessed asshole was what he was. “i’m not exactly looking to be friends with the king of curses, you idiot.”

“but look at you now. you wanted this.” he licked a stripe up the side of your neck, pausing at the base of your jaw to grin and press a sweet kiss to the area. you shivered and your hands found his shoulders to grip onto. he wasn’t wrong about the wanting it part—the amount of times you’d fantasized about exactly this was concerning. “i wonder what would happen if your little friends knew about how you really felt. what’s that term you like to use? ‘fraternizing with the enemy?’”

sukuna laughed again when your expression fell, face hot at the reminder of the others. “i suppose this is considered a bit more than mere fraternizing though, hm?” he continued, smiling and kissing your cheek.

whatever. no one would find out anyway. expect... expect maybe... yuuji—what had happened to him anyway for this to happen? knowing him, he’d probably been too tired after the last mission and sukuna had easily switched in—the same mission that seemed to have set sukuna even further along in his fury against jujutsu sorcerers this night.

you weren’t dating yuuji per say (it was... complicated), so your qualms when it came to fucking the curse possessing him were... minimal to say the least. you wouldn’t have done it if you were already taken, couldn’t have done that to yuuji, sweet as he was. but even in spite of all that, sukuna was right... this whole thing was so... no, don’t think about it.

you didn’t care either way (...maybe)—you couldn’t let his words get to you.

“just move already.”

you heard him grumble, annoyed, and he propped himself up to hover above your face. “i was giving you time to adjust. you’re so ungrateful.”

and with that, sukuna snapped his hips into yours without another moment of hesitation and you dug your nails into his back, mouth open in a silent scream because fuck.

“ungrateful fucking brat.”

“more,” your voice was hoarse, focus narrowing in only on the way he was fucking you.

you weren’t sure if it was your words or his own desire that spurred him on, but he set a bruising pace from the start, the places where your hips met hurting every time he rammed back into you. he was marking up your neck, the area already feeling sensitive and oh-so overabused, yet you not wanting to tell him to stop.

sukuna’s hand wrapped around your neck again, the feeling familiar now and you clenched around him at the sensation, him growling when you did so. the slight squeeze of his fingers had you seeing stars, the light-headed feeling going straight to your building arousal.

just like before, his hand traveled up to squeeze your cheeks and he was hovering over your mouth again, lips brushing against your own from the momentum of his thrusts. “let me kiss you again.” sukuna’s eyes were dark, unreadable.

you were quick to act at that, not letting him lean down, but rather craning your neck up to latch onto him, moaning as your mouth fell open for him to push his tongue in. his hand released your face to travel down to tweak at your nipples and grip your breasts again, other hand holding your leg steady against him. “filthy fucking slut.” he forced the words into your mouth, speaking around your lips that kept chasing after him. “fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”

sukuna’s attention returned to your neck, leaving you to gasp into the air and missing his warmth against your face. when his thumb found your clit, your breath hitched and you knew you so close to coming undone. the rubbing of his cock against just the right spots inside of you, filling you so wholly was not helping.

“su...kuna, please, i’m gonna—” you were babbling, chest heavy when his teeth sank into your shoulder, stinging. his wet kiss on the area was cooling, the contrast making your head tilt further back, wanting to give him easy access to whatever he wanted.

“i’ve got you.” he was whispering against the wet skin, voice low with his pants, and you shivered, digging your nails into his back even more. “come on, brat, you want to cum for me, don’t you?” yes, you did. the stretch, his hands everywhere at once, his scraping lips—yes, you wanted to let everything go.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you let yourself come undone, heat filling your chest. everything was him—that’s all you knew in this state.

“look at you, creaming all over my cock. god, you’re so pretty. pretty little slut.” the words just kept flowing as he fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own release.

when he finally came, your hole was aching, abused, the sound of skin against skin the only thing you could focus on, mind cloudy. his cum was hot and filling when it spilled into you, your stomach doing summersualts at the feeling. his pace gradually began to slow, the sopping sound of him fucking his cum into you as he rode out his own high the only sound besides your ragged breaths. when he eventually stopped, he was leaning over you, sweaty foreheads pressed together, and he pushed one final bruising kiss to your lips that you gladly returned.

you were panting, chest rising and falling unevenly. “fuck, oh my god.” you reached up pull him back into another kiss, needing something to hold onto. it was an easy kiss, no thought going into its form, just knowing that lips were meant to be on each other and slotted together. his lips were so soft, and his fingers along your side were so soft, and his chest against yours was so soft and you were absolutely lost to everything.

sukuna finally pulled back to let you breath, knowing you were probably stupid enough to just keep pulling him in more and more and ignoring your lung capacity until the very last second unless he stopped you.

chests heaving, you stared at each other and he brought a thumb up to rub at your swollen lips. you flicked your tongue out to lick at the digit playfully and smiled. a laugh bubbled out of you and he returned the grin, his own deep chuckle vibrating through you where you were still pressed against each other.

it was laughing that you moved to push him to roll off of you. “oh my god, i can’t believe we just-” the hand that gripped your wrist, your own hands still planted on his chest, stopped you immediately. his smile had morphed back into one that was anything but sweet.

you were suddenly aware of the ache in your legs where they were still pressed over his shoulders and the dull throbbing of your pussy as it begged for a break, him still not having pulled out—the look on his face told you that you wouldn’t be getting a break from those sensations any time soon.

“who said we’re done?” his teeth glinted in the moonlight and god the line was so cliche and he must’ve known you’d hate it so much. what you hated even more was the throb in your core at his words despite all that. “wanted to cum in you at least once, but your tits-” he paused to squeeze one of them for emphasis, “are looking a little too clean.” body covered in sweat and marks all over your chest from his handiwork made you think clean wasn’t exactly the correct description, although you understood his sentiment.

surprise ridden expression falling away, you rose to meet his challenge, your own grin reflecting back. how would it feel when he came on your stomach, on your face, on your ass—anywhere and everywhere? would it be the same feeling as before when he’d spilled inside of you? (would you get to taste it?)

the thought was horrible, you knew, but the trickle of white out of your hole around his cock and dripping onto the sheets made you think maybe it was okay to be horrible for once.

“do your worst, king.”