#or having to wait for a minute of respite

[teagrammy]

I really need someone to tell me I will have moments of rest and personal time in adult life again. Like it cannot just be a loop of work that piles on top of itself right when you finish it. Please tell me it gets better after college.

[satoruxx]

normally toji prides himself on being the perfect guard dog—not that he would ever tell you that. but you never have to worry about guys coming up to you when your hulking monster of a boyfriend remains at your side, continuously glaring down his nose at everyone he sees.

this usually works pretty well.

on adults.

but now, as you and him wait in line at the counter of the grocery store, he can only let out a huff of irritation as he watches the little brat in front of you both stare over his mother’s shoulder—big wide eyes locked on you.

at first you don’t really notice, too busy blabbering about something silly as you look around the store. but when you finally lock eyes with the child, you notice the way he seems to go shy, pressing his cheek deeper into his mom’s shoulder. his eyes flick away from your face for just a second, before timidly looking back. as soon as he does, you break into the sweetest, most giddy smile.

(toji would move mountains for a glimpse of that smile—and yet here this kid is just getting it without a shred of work.)

you tilt your head, raising a hand to gently wave at the boy, who flushes further under your attention, but lifts his cheek a little more. chubby fingers come up to meekly wave back, and you hold back a silent coo of affection, eyes filled with honey-like sweetness. with every little giggle and silly face you make at the boy, he seems to get more and more comfortable—toji watches you melt.

the unlucky little brat then quickly peeks at the giant man looming beside you, and toji can’t resist. his face pulls into a evil smile, teeth on full display as he wiggles his fingers sinisterly. the expression has its desired effect—the kid recoils, eyes going wide before burying his face into his mother’s neck. in a few minutes, the boy and his mom are heading out the store and you and toji start loading the groceries onto the belt.

“i saw that, you know?”

toji glances up, seeing your semi disapproving frown, and he cocks his head in faux innocence. “saw what?”

“you’re mean,” you shake your head, crossing your arms. “scaring little kids like that. quite literally the object of their nightmares.”

“ah, he’ll be alright,” toji grunts, taking the bags from the cashier in one hand and reaching for your palm with the other. “it’ll build his character.”

you snort. “he’ll have trauma.”

“like i said,” he grins, a canine display. “character.”

you roll your eyes as he tugs you out of the store—your grip on him unwilling to falter.

toji lives just like this, successful in scaring off any other person who considers giving you attention, whether that’s an adult or a little kid. and despite your exasperated complaints to at least lay off the children (they’re harmless), toji has known for a long time that he can be nothing but selfish when it comes to you.

so forgive him, if he quickly turns to this evil little tactic to scare away kids—it’s all he can really do. besides, it always works.

until now.

you’re sitting under a tree at a small park, working on some dumb assignment for one of your lectures. toji lays on his back next to you, arm draped over his eyes in a momentary respite from the normal danger of his life—eerily content.

the peace is broken by the rustling of tiny footsteps in the grass.

“here you go.”

toji pulls his arm away to peer at the owner of the voice. a boy stands there, hair tousled as he waits in front of you with his arm outstretched—in between his chubby fingers is a singular dandelion.

your eyes widen, cheeks splitting into a wide smile as you coo out your affection. “aw for me?”

the boy nods mutely, cheeks flushed as he thrusts the flower further into your view. you delicately pluck it from his hands, inhaling the fragrance with a grateful smile. “well thank you. it’s beautiful.”

he shyly kicks at a spot of grass, lips pulling up into a giddy smile under your sweet praise. “just like you,” he mumbles under his breath and you squeal softly, giggling at how adorable this kid truly is.

toji sits up before you can say anything else, lips pulled into a displeased frown as he crosses his bulky arms across his chest. “hey.” his voice comes out low and tense, even as he stares down his nose at the boy. “what are you doing?”

you turn to look at your boyfriend, at the exaggerated sneer that normally works wonders in scaring kids away, and you hold back an exasperated sigh. “toji—“

“who are you?” the boy frowns, sass appearing out of thin air as he looks toji up and down like he’s nothing but dirt under his colorful sneakers. you gape at him, eyes darting back and forth between the two as a smile threatens to make its way into your face. toji’s lips part in surprise, a tingle of heat crawling up his neck as he hears your hushed gasp of held back laughter.

“her boyfriend,” he grunts back, eyes narrowed in a way that’s oddly similar to the expression on the kid’s face.

“no way!” the boy huffs, pouting indignantly. his cheeks flush as he glares at toji—unfazed.

“uh, yes way.” toji realizes how petty he sounds, but he’s adamant—unwilling to stand down in anything that involves you.

the boy crosses his arms, mirroring toji’s pose. he rolls his eyes emphatically, lip curling as he sneers down his nose.

“isn’t she too pretty for you?” he asks bluntly. you smother another disbelieving gasp, and toji suddenly feels an unfamiliar thrill rush through his veins—this kid had guts.

“what do you know, brat?” there’s a smirk evident in toji’s voice now, and he uncrosses his arms to lean back on his palms, eyes shining with feral mirth.

“i have eyes,” the boy snaps back, putting both hands on his hips to appear more intimidating—it doesn’t work, he just looks cuter. “i can see her.”

“well quit it,” toji huffs in return. “not yours to look at.”

the kid narrows his eyes. “you’re mean!”

“and you’re nosy!”

“how am i nosy?”

“you’re comin’ over here and givin’ my girl flowers!”

“she deserves flowers!”

“of course she does! from me, you little brat!”

“you suck, old man!”

“what did you just call me?!”

a shout from across the park disrupts the heated bickering, and you all turn to see an older woman waving the boy over. he looks down at you, a sweet smile washing over his face as he tilts his head innocently. “that’s my mom. i have to go home now.”

“heh, sure thing. get home safe, okay?” you shoot toji an amused glance as you speak, and he sends a displeased glare back as he stubbornly crosses his arms again.

the boy nods, beaming at you. “okay! see you later!” he chirps. but just as he’s about to leave he turns back, eyes fixated on toji. “i hope your boyfriend learns how to be nice!”

and then he runs off.

you snort out another laugh, which only gets louder when you catch a glimpse of the way toji is practically sulking in the corner—scowling at the kid’s back with narrowed eyes.

the whole thing is so unbelievably endearing, and you can’t stop grinning as you pack up your things and stand up.

“let’s go home, toji.” you hold your palm out for him, and you’re rewarded with a pointed glance—he takes your hand anyway. even as you both exit the park, toji has an unamused pout on his face, glaring ahead.

you can’t resist.

“don’t tell me you actually feel threatened now,” you giggle, grabbing his bicep and pressing close. toji glances at you from the corner of his eyes, unamused—which only seems to make you laugh harder. “oh come on! he was so cute!”

“little brat,” he grumbles in return. “couldn’t take a hint.”

“you’re mad because the eight year old kid at the park didn’t want to believe you were my boyfriend?”

“the fuck do you think? of course i am. what do i look like if not your fucking boyfriend?”

you chortle, practically falling on him with the weight of your amusement. he sighs, disgruntled.

“it’s not funny, kid.” toji rolls his eyes at you—internally, he’s trying not to grin.

“it’s so funny, toji.” you straighten up, smiling at him with stars in your eyes. “you’re ridiculous and it’s so cute.”

he scoffs, giving you a sidelong glance before reaching up to tug at your cheek. “i’m definitely not the cute one.” he murmurs offhandedly before internally smirking at the way you seem to be caught off guard by his statement.

“whatever,” you mumble, holding his arm as you both continue walking home in relative silence. from the corner of your eye you can see toji’s expression as he mutely stares ahead, deep in thought. you decide not to disturb him, content on just feeling his warmth bleeding into your palm—always at your side.

toji replays the incident in his head multiple times as you head home. the bickering, the sass, and the unfiltered adoration that little brat seemed to have for you.

something clicks.

as you’re pushing open the door of your apartment, you hear toji quietly chuckle from behind you, and you turn to look at him over you shoulder. “what?”

he shakes his head slowly, eyes shut even as an uncharacteristically soft smile tugs at his lips. “just thinking…”

“about what?” you ask curiously.

toji grins at you, cocking his head fondly. “when we have a kid, i want the little brat to be just like that.”

[augustinewrites]

“itadori, please respect his personal space—”

“kugisaki! stop hitting him—”

“megumi, don’t you dare bring that elephant out in my classroom—”

peace and quiet is short-lived whenever the first years are around.

you manage to quiet them down with the threat of assigning an essay, allowing you a moment’s respite to massage your temples and lean back in your seat, glancing at your phone to check just how many minutes you have left with them.

a notification pops up as you do, bringing on a whole new headache.

[satoru]: send nudes?

you quickly turn your phone over so it’s screen-down, face burning as you look around to make sure no one had seen.

peace and quiet is also short-lived whenever satoru calls out sick. because the strongest sorcerer of your time…currently has a cold.

he is, predictably, very dramatic whenever he’s sick. a mild fever means he puts himself on bedrest. a sore throat means he needs to be spoon fed a very specific homemade soup.

but the worst…oh, the worst is when he has a cold.

when satoru’s sinuses are clogged, he’s an absolute menace to deal with. his sneezes shake the apartment and his whines about sinus pressure are all you hear at the dinner table.

luckily, the students have resorted to quietly bothering each other, so you slowly turn your phone back around to deal with the man child who is likely littering the living room floor with tissues.

he’s stuck at home, which means he’s got nothing to do but annoy you.

[satoru]: haha jk

[satoru]: unless…?

huffing, you quickly type back a response.

[you]: NOT funny. i’m at work.

[satoru]: so what you’re saying is you’ll send them during lunch right ;)

“miss!” itadori shouts, his arm raised. “can fushiguro come to the arcade with us after class?”

“of course,” you say. “but please don’t forget to finish your essays on cursed technique origins. it’s due on monday.”

yuuji’s practically bouncing in his seat as he grabs megumi’s arm. hear that, fushiguro? you hear as you pick up your phone. your mom said yes!

megumi, who usually comes home on the weekends, still looks to you for approval. you assure him with a small nod and smile.

sometimes you just want to wrap him up in your arms and never let go. he may have been another couple’s blessing, but ultimately he’s yours and gojo’s pride and joy. possibly the only one you have left, as it stands.

thought you’re a little sad that he won’t be home for dinner tonight, you remind yourself that he’s growing up. for as long as you’ve known him, he’s always been a sort of lone wolf. but a lone wolf is still a wolf, and a wolf needs a pack.

he’s finally found friends he’s comfortable with, and it’s good that he wants to spend time with them and vice versa.

your phone buzzes insistently in your hand.

[satoru]: pleeeeeaaaase?

[satoru]: i think it’ll really help with my recovery…

[satoru]: if this cold kills me the last thing i want to see is a picture of you

oh, that’s actually kind of—

[satoru]: nude, preferably

maybe it’s a good thing megumi won’t be home tonight. you don’t need any witnesses to the crime you’re about to commit.

[you]: what’ll help with your recovery is a visit to the infirmary.

there’s a short pause, then you watch the little bubble appear and disappear about six times.

[satoru]: shit

[satoru]: is this a scene?

you roll your eyes, waving at the kids as they head out to catch the train.

[you]: i hate you

he doesn’t answer, so you get up to hurry over to your office, shutting and locking the door behind you.

you wait a moment, opening the camera on your phone as you do so.

once the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall disappears, you start unbuttoning the first few buttons of your shirt—

you scream when a loud sneeze startles you, satoru suddenly appearing at your side.

he doesn’t miss a beat, plucking a tissue from your desk and blowing his nose loudly. he throws it in the general direction of the bin before slapping his palm onto your desk.

you can tell he’s attempting to be some sort of seductive, but it’s dampened bu the way he sniffles loudly, his face a little red.

“hello, doctor,” he says, a lazy grin spread across his face. “i’m here for my physical.”

“honey,” you laugh, gently cupping the sides of his face. “you need to rest.”

“but ‘m not tired,” he pouts, leaning in to nose at your neck. his skin is warm against yours, much too warm for your liking.

you tangle your fingers in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “since i’m your doctor, i’m prescribing a nap.”

“a nap does sound kind of nice…”

he gets up, taking your hand and dragging you over to the couch with him. he locks you within his embrace, sighing contentedly as he presses you to his chest.

“wait, satoru i have to supervise the second years’ training—”

it’s too late. he’s already asleep, snoring loudly in your ear.

so you take out your phone and text nanami, asking if he can cover for you this afternoon.

because a sick satoru is a needy satoru, and you won’t be leaving this couch for a while.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

”why are you so good at that?”

his caress is gentle. tender, steady, secure; and practiced, you can tell, just from the instant relief you feel — the vivid care in how his fingertips smooth along your skin. 

suguru presses his thumbs into the bridge of your nose, right beneath your forehead, big palms cupping your face. they’re warm, calloused, but still somehow so soft — massaging you gently. the pads of his fingers trail upwards, rubbing soothing little circles against your temples. as if he’s memorized every patch of skin, seen the very inside of your skull. as if he knows exactly where to apply pressure to make the sharp jolts of pain go away. 

and it’s working. the room you’re in is dimly lit, illuminated only by the vermilion rays of the setting sun, bleeding in through the gap between the opened shoji screens. a faint, summery scent accompanies them; like burnt roses, or a salty ocean breeze, not enough to rouse the nausea in your throat. it’s quiet. all you can hear is the soft humming of your lover, and your own relieved breaths, pulled out by his skillful hands. his pointer fingers pinch between your brows, and another one follows. the sweetest little sigh. 

”am i?” his voice is soft, even more so than usual, as if the slightest noise could disrupt your peace. a smile is knit between the vowels. ”i’m glad.”

he sounds a little tired. it’s been a long day for both of you, so it’s no surprise. when you finally got back home, the inside of your skull was tormented by a persistent ache, and suguru was blinking with fatigue — though he still insisted on doing this. lying you down on his lap, like a fragile doll, crossing his legs to give you enough space to rest comfortably; the back of your head finding respite on his thigh, senses enveloped by the silk of his robes, smelling lightly of cherry blossoms and sandalwood. comfy.

and, after only a couple minutes of his loving treatment, the ache began to dull. sweet relief seeping into your nerves.

he reminds you to take deep breaths, watching intently as the contours of your face fall back into a state of tranquility. whenever he shifts, the tatami mats beneath him rustle, and your muddled mind sways like the rocking of a boat; slight, but still enough to coax a wince from out your throat, a tiny spark of pain blooming between your sinuses, followed by a murmured apology from the man above you. 

a hum buzzes in his throat. you hear it, eyes still shut, waiting for him to answer your question. and he does, of course — so weak to you, always, your voice the key to his locked-up heart.

”back in high school…” he starts, diligently continuing the facial massage, comforting circles rubbed into your skin. ”... my best friend got migraines often.” 

a soft groan slips from out your parted lips, when he pushes against a certain spot — locating the pressure points like brushing specks of dust from off his clothing. effortless. 

”ah,” you click your tongue, melting into his touch. turning into a boneless puddle, cradled in his lap, comfy as can be. ”your mysterious bestie, huh?”

it’s not the first you’ve heard of this best friend. suguru’s mentioned him before, though only in passing, in whispers, comments he hopes will sound absentminded. they never do — because suguru says the word friend like it’s a prayer. 

(that explains it, though. no wonder it feels so good; it is practiced. should you feel jealous?

well, maybe. but you mostly think it’s kind of sweet.)

before you can think of what you’re saying, the words have left your lips. they tumble out like little pizzicato drops, spoken casually, matter-of-factly. a tiny chirp of a thing.

”you must have loved him a lot.”

…

silence.

for just a moment, the thumbs pressing against your skin halt — just for a second, but enough to notice, and suddenly you feel a little like the air has been sucked out of the room.

even with your eyes closed, you know suguru’s smile is nowhere to be seen. 

it’s funny, how well you’ve come to know him. how you’ve learned to memorize every expression you’ve ever seen him make, any signs of distress or discomfort. he does this thing with his eyes, sometimes — a thin kind of concealment, when you shuffle a little too close for his comfort. figuratively speaking, because you’re almost certain he’d let you crawl under his skin if you asked. but sometimes you twist the key to his heart a little too abruptly, and his eyes of gold and ochre shift in the light, honey clogging the interior of his cornea. something sickly-sweet. something he’s kept locked up for a long time.

a nostalgia so palpable it breaks your heart just to look at it.

you don’t want to open your eyes. you don’t want to see the kind of face he’s making right now. you don’t want to know if he’s pursing his lips, or furrowing his brows, just because of your carelessly chosen words — you know his old best friend is a sensitive subject. gosh, you’re stupid. 

stupid, stupid, stupid.

(why can’t you ever just read the room?)

blindly, you stumble for something to say, parting your lips. desperate to change the topic, to save him from this suffocating silence.

— but then suguru breaks it.

”yeah.”

when your eyes flutter open, he’s looking out into the garden. watching the sun, as it sinks beneath the mountains, lips curved up into a small smile.

”i suppose i did.”

…

you take a moment to look at him. the bridge of his nose, the firm lines of his jaw — the slightest tremble of the muscle. and those eyes, set afire by the final rays of the setting sun, burned to ash. filled with… something. not regret.

just longing.

suddenly, the pads of his fingers are dancing along your skin again; gliding down to pinch your nose. it makes you yelp, a tiny squeak.

and then he’s looking at you. 

”but i love you more,” he croons, a little tilt of his head that make his bangs move like a black curtain. eyes swirling with humour, something syrupy and teasing, awfully fond. ”my little dove.”

before you know it, your cheeks are blossoming with warmth; the branches of your lips curling up into a shy smile. his attention is a little too much to bear, so you wriggle out of his grasp — turning around to press your face into his stomach. his sleeves cast a curtain around you, a protective veil, but it’s not long until you’re being coaxed back into your original position.

”ah ah,” he tuts, chiding you lovingly; a coo in the back of his throat. ”none of that. let me take care of you.”

all you can do is groan, meekly, squeezing your eyes shut. suguru only chuckles, cupping your cheeks and continuing to apply pressure on your forehead and nose, large warm palms against your chilled skin — unwilling to let you escape his pampering.

the sun sets eventually. but he keeps you on his lap until the headache has faded entirely, until your eyelids have dragged you into a deep slumber, until tiny snores are seeping from your parted lips. until the moon has pulled itself into the night sky above you.

somehow, even on the brink of exhaustion, you manage to feel his warm lips against your forehead; hear the muffled murmur against your skin.

”sweet dreams, my darling,” comes a whisper, deep and silky, coaxing you further into the cradle of sleep. his thumb smooths along your cheekbone, down to the curve of your jaw — a trail of warmth. ”come back to me soon, won’t you?”

he smiles. you feel it, that soft upward curve, a blissed out sensation drowning you in white noise. the space inside your mind is free of pain, filled only with thoughts of him, the lines of his fingers burning patterns into your skin. one final kiss pressed between your brows, and then he’s pulling away; curling his arms under your knees and hoisting you up. into his steady arms, his robes shielding you from the soft glow of the stars.

”… don’t dawdle in dreamland for too long.”

the whisper goes unheard. fast asleep, suguru can only gaze at you, drinking in the serenity on your features. trying not to remember a boy with blue eyes — the similar expression he wore once his migraines had begun to fade.

he shakes his head, and carries you towards the bedroom. safe and sound in his embrace.

[moonstruckme]

apple pie please <3 would love something with remus and #30. 7k is so well deserved and your writing has served as inspiration for me to finally do my own. many thanks for giving us all comfort through your words :)

I'm so happy for you that you're writing! Thank you my love <33

³⁰⁾ trembling hands

cw: chronic pain

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 495 words

Remus is in pain. But when isn’t he, really. It’s only flaring up now, in his bones and in all the places where his bones grate up against each other and, for some godforsaken reason, in his eyes (though that might just be because he’s tired). It relieves the eye ache at least somewhat to close them, but he can’t do that because you’ve got him all spellbound and stupid with how precious you look asleep on his chest. 

You’re only on the couch with him in solidarity, so Remus can hardly blame you for drifting off when his Saturday is full of such scintillating activities as quietly reading and waiting for the next time he can take painkillers. Your hand is trapped underneath your cheek, sandwiched between your face and Remus’ chest like you’re trying to feel his heartbeat. You look very relaxed. It fills him with both pride and a weird sort of envy, wishing he could join but happy that if one of you is able to relax it’s you. One of your eyebrows is all ruffled from being rubbed against the fabric of his shirt, and a few strands of hair have fallen in front of your face so that they’re rustled by your breaths like blades of grass in a soft wind. 

Remus lifts a trembling hand, moving them away. You stir with the unhurried ease of someone who knows they’re waking up somewhere safe, your eyelashes fluttering and then opening. 

You look up at him for a handful of moments, your lips gradually turning down into a frown. “It’s gotten worse,” you say. 

Remus doesn’t know what gave him away. “A little,” he admits. 

Your frown worsens. It spreads to your eyebrows, which hook upwards compassionately. “I’m sorry,” you say, lifting your face. Your hand gives his chest a couple of short rubs, consoling. “It’d probably help if I wasn’t laying on you, yeah?”

“No,” Remus lies. He’s not sure which comfort he values more at the moment, the physical kind or the funny, intangible sort that comes from having you in his arms. You might at least stay until he figures it out.

But you get up anyway, as gently as you can, your knee digging into the cushion beside his hip. You look at the clock in the kitchen. “You could’ve taken pills half an hour ago.” You sound sorry, your hand finding his forehead to brush some hair away from his face, a useless but tender touch. “You should have woken me.” 

You’re gone before Remus can reply, bustling down the hall and returning soon with a glass of water and two pills cupped in your hand. He tries not to look too eager as he takes them, though just the action of swallowing them down brings some relief, the promise of real respite in only a handful of minutes. He’s more than happy to have given up a few of them to lay with you.

[knavesflames]

hi baby ❤️

consider bunny!arle in heat who keeps fucking you over and over. she wants to give you her baby bunnies so badly, but she can't :(

so, the best you can do is give her one of those straps with fake cum.

but now seeing it leak out of you gets her even more excited, tail all twitchy as she fills you up over and over 🤭

I’M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG!!!!!! Here you go<3

Contents: fake breeding, just sex, Arlecchino just wants baby bunnies fr

Word count: 1074

Nsft utc!

“You didn’t tell me.”

“It is pointless.”

“Why?”

She sighs, thumping her feet on the floor in annoyance. Your petting of her head turns into soft strokes. It’s quiet for a few seconds before she rolls over again.

“I want to breed. I cannot breed. Therefore, it is pointless.”

You can’t help but smile, though you feel a little guilty for smiling when she grumbles a “why the hell is that funny?” You shake your head, apologising before you stand up and walk to your closet in the bedroom, fishing for something. You can hear her grumbling all the way from the living room, and once you finally find what you’re looking for, you come back to her. A box, wrapped in plain crimson wrapping. You bend down to her again.

“Open it, will you?”

“I apologise, love, but I am not in the mood to open gifts.”

“Trust me. Open it.”

She groans as she sits up. She knows you won’t let it go until she opens it, so she decides to humour you. She doesn’t bother with her usual opening style, clean and preserving the paper. She rips into the paper before she comes face to face with a black box. She gives you a pointed look, as if to say “really?” before she opens the box, only to find a strap on and a harness.

Her face crumpled in confusion, her eyes moving up to meet yours, your prideful smirk covering your face.

“The hell is this? My love, we have enough of these.”

“No, no. It.. it has fake cum, it’s safe to go inside of me. It’s not real, I know, but it’s the closest we’ll get. It’s already set up. You want to breed me when you’re like this. It gives you the illusion, does it not?”

She lets out a shaky breath, staring at the contents of the box before she mutters under her breath.

“I fucking love you.”

You can only chuckle in response, but it ends quickly as a gasp rips through you. She’s on top of you within seconds, sliding your shirt up and off your body, her thumbs dipping under the waistline of your shorts before roughly dragging them down. She seems to be already panting as she fumbles with the harness, staring at your flushed face below her. You hear a few clicks before you feel her slap it against you, gathering the slick that quickly developed with what sounds like an almost whimper. You can see in her eyes she wants to make you wait, that she wants to tease you until you beg her, but she’s losing all restraint. And then you breathe out a moan and she loses herself, pushing into you with no warning, causing both of you to groan in unison. Your hand clutches the carpet, murmuring to Arlecchino who is thrusting into you quickly, breathing heavily into your neck.

“We are on the floor.”

“Don’t care. Take it.”

Your body ends up moving with the force of each thrust, your noises growing louder with every minute that passes. Her thrusts are shallow and quick at first, her only noises being grunts and growls of pleasure. You can tell she’s close by the way her movements change, becoming hard and deeper than ever, her grunts turning to whines as her tail begins twitching. You feel yourself clench around her strap, and as your orgasm rides over you, the strap does exactly what it’s supposed to do. Arlecchino gasps, holding onto you as you tremble and moan. She pulls out, if only to see the ‘cum’ dripping out of you as she roughly rubs your clit with her thumb. She’s kind enough to give you some respite.

Until she starts again, grunting with increased desperation, her hips stuttering as they move without any certain rhythm, her hands pulling and keeping your thighs apart. She moves you into every position possible with each time she fills you. A mating press, your legs hooked over her shoulders, and now, on all fours, a pretty arch of your back that she has pushed you into before she moves her hand into your hair and pulls your head up roughly with a sharp tug of your hair, causing some strangled gasp to come out of your mouth. Arlecchino, being the woman that she is, pulls your head back so she can look at you as she fucks you, watching your face twist in overstimulation and pleasure as tears begin to fill your eyes. She doesn’t stop, though. You haven’t said the safe word, so why would she?

“Take it. Take my cock and have my children. You look so pretty with my cum dripping out of you. I won’t stop until I’m certain I’ve bred you well enough. Now cum. Again.”

You obey, though you can’t stop your body reactions. This time, it’s too much, as you cry out, your breath hitching as you speak the safe word. She slows down, coming to a stop. She stays inside of you for a while, her grip releasing on your hair as her face comes down to nuzzle in your neck before pulling out with a soft, wet pop. The floor is covered in the ‘cum’, and it’s dripping out of you, trailing down your trembling legs. She lays you back down on the floor, albeit the fact the floor is messy. Her hands trail up your legs, her tail still twitching as she gathers the fluid with her fingers.

“You have made me make a mess, love. Thank you for the gift. We’ll go again tomorrow.”

[thebigbadbatswife]

Tear In My Heart

Pairing - Bruce Wayne x F!Reader Stay Like This Forever Masterlist

Summary - The night You and Bruce confess your love for one another, as well as your knowledge of his best kept secret.

Warnings - Fluff, Love confessions, Identity reveal, Bruce's POV, Inspired by the song Tear In My Heart by Twenty One Pilots, Older man/Younger woman,

A/N - As with all fics within this 'verse, this is a complete stand alone and doesn't require any thing else to be read to be enjoyed <3

Word Count - 2.5k

Bruce mutters a curse beneath his breath as he skillfully avoids another pothole. He knows most of the roads in Gotham are fucked to hell and back, it’s the way that it’s always been with some of them slowly growing worse, but he honestly doesn’t remember this one being this bad. 

Though, admittedly, it has been a while since he’s taken this route in a vehicle that isn’t the batmobile. Where he’s also typically flying down the road, the law be damned, the large wheels of the batmobile skimming over the tops of them, stopping him from actually feeling them. 

Since the road is quiet, not another vehicle in sight thanks to the late hour, Bruce glances over at you for a moment. You are fast asleep in the passenger seat, his suit jacket covering your body to keep you warm. 

While the weekend had been thoroughly enjoyable for both of you. Bruce whisking you away to a different country and the two of you barely leaving the hotel room because you were all over each other. The flight back had been a different story. Several delays thanks to the weather and turbulence from hell had left you you grumpy and with a bad headache.

He’s thankful that you have finally managed to fall fast asleep. If there’s one thing that Bruce hates more than anything, it’s seeing you in any sort of pain. Especially when there’s not much he’s able to do about it. He had managed to get you some painkillers, not that they had done much to help. During the wait for news on whether or not you were getting back onto the jet or if he was going to be booking a hotel room, you had buried your head against his body, trying to find some respite from the bright lights assaulting your eyes.

As he looks away to focus on the road again, he glances himself in the rearview mirror. The creases on his forehead, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and the grey in his hair catches his eyes. He quickly looks away and does his best to ignore the intrusive thoughts that are trying to creep in again. It doesn’t help that a lot of those thoughts are echoed by the never ending stream of articles that are constantly being posted. The same bullshit rewritten in different ways, but the meaning behind the words are always the same.

Normally what the press chooses to write about concerning him doesn’t bother Bruce. He’s done numerous controversial things to keep his vigilante lifestyle hidden and anything that people had to say about it either had him rolling his eyes or laughing. But recently it’s been bothering him way more than it really should be.

Deep down he knows that the only thing that should actually matter is how the two of you feel about each other. Fuck the rest of the world, but it’s like a voice nagging at him in the back of his skull. Everyday he feels his age. Even more so after a bad fall on the job. His joints cracking and his back aching. 

Sometimes he wonders if you are even happy. You have always been notoriously difficult for him to read at times. Years of acting drilled into you at a young age so that you didn’t slip up in front of the press. At the same time h e knows that you wouldn’t ever lie to him. From the start of your relationship with him, you have always been upfront and clear about what it is you want. As has he.

Even so, it doesn’t stop a certain event from his past from creeping back every once in a while and it makes him pause for a brief minute. Until he’s reminding himself that you’re not her . Your smile isn’t a facade trying to lure him into a sense of false security to distract him from the fact that a snake has trespassed into his cave, waiting to strike. 

The way that you look and smile at him. How you say his name. It’s similar to that of the only one other woman has. When he lost Selina he truly believed that he would never love again nor would he ever find someone who could potentially love him. 

Yet here you are.

He’s not a superstitious man. He doesn’t believe in fate. But it’s hard to ignore, after he swore that was it for him and he would never love again, how you walked into his life and directly into his heart. Bruce couldn’t get rid of you even if he tried. Not that he ever would try. The hold that you have on him is unexplainable, but he welcomes it completely.

He loves you. Goodness, does Bruce love you. You have changed a lot for him and it hasn’t even been a year yet. Do you know that he would do anything for you? Even if it meant him dying, if it kept you safe, he would do it in a heart beat. He hasn't told you any of this yet, though. Deep down, Bruce is scared of scaring you away from him.

“Bruce?” Your tired voice snaps him out of his thoughts and he glances over at you again. “Are you okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, just feeling old and sorry for myself,” he replies. There’s no point in lying about it and he doesn’t want to lie to you more than he has to. After all, he’s already lying more than enough when it comes to Batman. Which already has him feeling like he’s committing an unspeakable crime against you.

“My poor Brucie,” you coo softly. It’s a nickname that he has always hated. That is until you came along and said it. Now he’s grown rather fond of it. 

You stretch as you sit up properly before reaching over to ruffle his hair, since the car is currently stopped at the traffic lights. He can’t not smile at the action. “Is that all that’s bothering you?”

He thinks it over for a moment before finally deciding to just bite the bullet. 

“Are you happy?”

The question clearly takes you off guard as you fall silent for a moment. Your face drops and the lost look you have makes him feel like he’s kicked a kitten. That really wasn’t his aim. 

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” you finally say. You almost sound offended that he would even suggest that you might be unhappy. 

Bruce sighs softly as he decides to pull over. This is a conversation that should have his full attention and he really doesn’t fancy crashing a car that has you inside of it. He runs a hand through his hair as he turns to face you.

“Our age difference.” He says it rather bluntly because there’s really no other way to put it. The bluntness doesn’t upset you. You prefer it when he’s upfront with you with what’s bothering him instead of him trying to hide you from it.

Your frown grows. “I’ve already told you that it doesn’t bother me. It never has.” 

“It might some day,” he points out. “I’m not getting any younger and I won’t be able to keep up with you forever.”

“And on that day the sun will have burned out and the Earth will be a giant ball of ice,” you declare as you unbuckle your seatbelt. 

His jacket falls onto the floor of the car as you climb over and straddle him. The way that you kiss him is so completely different to any other kiss that the two of you have shared. He can’t explain how, just that it has a familiar warmth, that he hasn’t felt in many years, spreading from his chest and throughout his body, his heart hammering against his ribcage. He chases after your lips as you pull away, desperate to not let the kiss end. Damn the things that you do to him without even saying a single word. 

Your hands cup his face and you smooth your thumbs over his cheeks. “I love you, Bruce Wayne. Even when you’re late to a date or you’re feeling old and sorry for yourself or you’re running around with those pointy ears. I. Love. You.”

It feels like his brain has short circuited as he takes in your sudden confession. It’s not just the sudden love confession, but the fact that you know what he does at night when he’s not with you. Yet you sound completely unbothered by it. Like it’s the most mundane thing in the world and not him literally risking life and limb to keep an entire city safe. You have rendered him completely speechless as he looks at you in amazement. 

How in the hell did a man like him get this lucky? He can’t hide his growing grin and why would he want to? 

“I love you too,” he says, all too aware of how long the silence has been stretching on while you wait for him to recover and answer you. Not that you have shown any annoyance or worry about his silence. You’re always so calm and patient with him. 

Bruce pulls you in for another kiss, desperate to feel your lips against his own again. The only problem is how much you’re smiling against his lips as he’s trying to kiss you like his life depends on it. Those four simple words have just made all of your dreams come true. It makes it hard for him to actually kiss you, so he decides to give up for the time being. After all there will be plenty of time for him to kiss you tomorrow when he refuses to let you leave his bed, but he keeps his forehead resting against yours. 

“And how did you find out about my night life?” He’s more curious than he is concerned. You’re smart. It’s one of the things he loves about you. And with all of the time he’s been spending with you over the past six months, even going as far as to pass off some of Batman’s duties to his family, it was just a matter of time before you put the pieces together and had him figured out.

You giggle and rub your nose against his. “You’re not nearly as subtle as you would like to think you are.” 

Bruce chuckles nervous. Okay, now he is a little worried. “What was it that gave me away?”

“How about the late nights where you claimed you were doing paperwork, but you come back to me covered in fresh bruises and cuts,” you reply. “Unless there’s some rich man fight club I don’t know about, it’s pretty suspicious, babe.” 

He huffs a laugh, his worry melting away. At least his whole “not being subtle” is restricted to your relationship and not the outside world. Now that’s something that would be disastrous. 

“No, there’s no rich man fight club. Unless you count fighting Lex on occasion. Was there anything else?”

He doesn’t mean to interrogate you, but until a few minutes ago he had thought he was doing a good job at keeping Batman a secret. 

“Your passion for helping Gotham. You would do anything for this city and its people. Even putting your life on the line. And then there’s the scars. You have more than what makes sense, for a normal man anyway.”

He nods. That makes sense. After all, there’s a reason he doesn’t do any magazine photoshoots that involve him revealing his skin anymore. It’s way too risky and he’s positive that no one would believe the damage done to his body is due to extreme sports and the several “accidents” that he’s had over the years. People will start asking questions and it’ll blow his cover, putting everyone who knows him in danger. Putting you in danger. Bruce can’t let that happen. He won’t let that happen. Your safety is of the utmost importance. 

You go to say something else, but you’re interrupted by a yawn. You also press your hand against your head and squeeze your eyes shut. 

“Your head still hurts, sweetheart?” he asks. He reaches over, his hand coming up to cup your face as his thumb smoothes over your cheekbone. You lean into his touch as you nod. 

“I thought it was gone, but it seems to be coming back,” you reply.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Bruce says. He helps you back into your seat, even leaning forward to grab his jacket to cover you with it, once you’re buckled back into your seat.

During the rest of the drive, you end up falling fast asleep again. Almost curled up into your seat, with your head resting at such an awkward angle Bruce is sure it’s going to give you a crick in your neck. When he’s stopped at another set of lights, he reaches over and calls your name, gently waking you back up. You grumble softly as you shift your position as much as the cramped space in the car will let you. It still doesn’t look very comfortable and he makes a mental note to buy you one of those neck pillows. Or maybe even one for each of his cars and his jet. 

It’s not long before the car is passing through the large iron gates of Wayne Manor. He pulls up in front of the main steps, turns the engine off and unbuckles his seatbelt. 

For a moment, he pauses. Taking the chance to simply admire you. A thought from earlier echoes in his mind. How did he, of all people, get this lucky to have someone like you in his life? He wonders if you have any idea of the power you hold over him.

He’s careful when he climbs out of the car, coming around to your side. He does his best to not wake you up as he unbuckles your seatbelt and lifts you into his arms. You stir for a moment, mumbling something underneath your breath, but quickly fall back asleep. 

As he reaches the front door, it opens and Alfred holds it open for him. Bruce quietly thanks him before carrying you through the manor and up to his bedroom, where he lays you down onto the bed. Instead of waking you, he decides to remove your makeup himself. 

He’s had more than enough practice in the past so it’s easy enough. Once he’s done he gets you out of your dress and into something more comfortable and getting you properly settled into bed before leaving to get ready himself.

Bruce settles into bed, next to you, and pulls you close to him. Since getting together with you he now finds it impossible for him to get anything resembling a decent night’s sleep unless you’re laying close to him. 

You mumble something in your sleep as he does so. It’s too quiet for him to make out what, but he swears he hears you say his name which leaves him wondering what exactly it is that you’re dreaming about. With you in his arms, curling up into his embrace, he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you.”

[baeshijima]

— as we are

some may call him overbearing. you, on the other hand, find he is anything but that.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 848 wc, fluff, mayhaps a teensy bit of angst if you squint hard enough, established relationship, pre-penacony storyline

A/N : in a "match your freak" competition but my opponent is reader. (sits on the shore and stares out into the sea waiting for his drip marketing and light cone reveal so i can change the post layout to have his lc…)

There is a tender gentleness in the way Sunday loves.

It shows in the way he has a habit of putting others before himself, inadvertently causing him to neglect himself at the worst of times. It shows in the meticulous care he devotes to his sister, having even the most minute details embedded within the crevices of his mind. It shows in the moments where he nags at you for not taking better care of yourself, to which you find yourself subject to a less than impressed stare when you make a rebuttal of his hypocrisy.

Well, you find that the latter can be more annoying than it is welcome (mostly due to the fact his nags tend to be unprovoked when your guard is down, sometimes resulting in him chasing after you in your feeble attempts to escape), but you can at least acknowledge it comes from a place of care. Begrudgingly so.

Regardless, it doesn’t take away from the reality that Sunday only goes so far because he simply wants the best for you. After all, who would willingly speed-walk after you while reciting the basic necessities humans need in order to be healthy and happy? Certainly not someone who doesn’t care!

A slight shift halts your thoughts. Glancing down towards your lap, an involuntary smile tugs the corners of your lips at the sight of Sunday dozing away peacefully. You lift a hand to card it through his hair, mindful of the studs perched along his wings — as well as the wings itself — in case you accidentally awaken him due to its sensitivity.

(While it would be rather amusing to see him awaken in a fluster, you’re not mentally prepared enough for another one of his scoldings. Well, you suppose you also don’t want to interrupt his rare moment of rest as well.)

Light seeps in through the slight opening of the curtains. Translucent rays cast him amid a golden radiance, its gaze settling along the curve of his cheeks, brushing through his hair, and counting each strand of his lashes in a dim glow. Had you not known any better, you would have thought of him to be divinity itself.

With your fingers contentedly caressing through soft grey hair, a stifling warmth soon creeps up on you. The light which once cast a precious glow on your lover mere seconds ago now leaves an uncomfortable warmth searing into the back of your hand. It is a little unbearable, but nothing you cannot handle if it means preserving this peaceful moment a little while longer.

Well, until Sunday squints from the sunlight making contact with his closed eyelids with a small grimace, resulting in him attempting to block it out by the protection of your stomach, that is.

A brief sigh escapes you. Reaching behind you as best as you could without stirring the slumbering man on your lap awake, you clutch the velvet curtains in your free hand. With a careful pull towards you, the main source is blocked out. Remnants of the uncomfortable heat lingers on your skin, but you find yourself unbothered as you take in the subtle, sleepy smile now etched into his relaxed features.

Honestly, you’re surprised he allowed himself a respite such as this. You are more than accustomed to his vehement refusals, with him often insisting he has no need nor the time for even a moment’s rest when there is much to be done. It’s an obsession, almost, the way in which he hyper-focuses on even the most trivial of details. Not a single thing can be out of place; not a single thing can be anything less than perfection itself.

Sunday, in spite of his flawed methods and, in your humble opinion, horridly stubborn demeanour, is someone whom you hold in high regard. Behind his stern and almost rigid-like composure belies a selfless man who wishes for nothing more than the happiness and freedom of others. Behind a calm gaze akin to that of an omniscient being is a man who brushes off any and all concerns for his well-being, a tight-lipped smile and light tone doing little to distract you from the brief clench of his fists and subtle pause which stretches on a little too long to be considered a breather.

Again, in your honest and most humble opinion, he is wretchedly stubborn — that, or he simply doesn’t know how to rely on and confide in others, despite the many times he himself has been confided in.

You take him in once more, seizing this rare moment in which you can see him as he is wholeheartedly without all the layers and walls and barriers he meticulously has built up around him.

Should a time in which he is ready to relinquish the burdens he carries amidst his quiet solitude come, you will embrace all that he is with welcoming arms; even if it wholly consumes you.

There is a tender gentleness in the way Sunday loves. Some may find his care to be overbearing, but you find that it is not overbearing enough.

if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33

[slu7formen]

Girl first of all I want to say that I'm OBSESSED with your writing I love it.

Second of all I would like to make a request about Luke so hear me out.

Luke and reader were in a relationship before he betrayed camp and they were head over heals for each other and then he stole the bolt and when Percy discovers he's the thief the reader is there feeling betrayed and specially heartbroken even though Luke ask her to go with him but she doesn't accept it because she's so loyal to camp and her friends.

Time passed and even if she wants to hate Luke she loves him more than anything. And Luke loves her too so instead of asking Annabeth to escape with him he asks reader and she accepts.

I want to see everything in here fluff, angst, everything you think about.

I hope you like this request and make it real for me because I've been having this idea for over a week.

Okay but I feel so bad ‘cause I totally forgot I had this story FULLY WRITTEN and READY to be published (‘cause I LOVED it), I’m so sorry angel, made you wait a lot more than just a week 🥺, but thanks for reading my stories <3

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: luke´s a traitor, betrayal, use of yn, swearing, kinda angst (?, KISSING, lil book spoiler

₊˚⊹♡

The crackle and pop of the bonfire filled the air, a comforting contrast to the vibrant bursts of color exploding overhead. The annual fireworks display was in full swing, casting shadows on the faces of your friends huddled around the warm flames. It was a picture of peace, a moment of respite amidst the constant threat of monsters demigod drama.

You stole a glance at the empty space beside you. Luke, your boyfriend, had told you he'd just be back in a minute. A few minutes had turned into an eternity, but you chalked it up to his usual impulsiveness. He'd be back any minute, with his signature smile and an arm wrapped around you.

You knew it.

From the moment you met, you and Luke had been inseparable. You were his confidante, his anchor in the chaos of being a demigod and his messy life. He was your rock, always there to make you laugh, to understand the weight of your heritage in a way no one else could.

The warmth of the fire danced on your skin, but a shiver snaked down your spine. Something felt off. The chatter of your friends seemed muted, replaced by a dull ache in your chest. You couldn’t deny the way you noticed how Luke has been acting lately. So weird and distant towards you the last couple days. You loved him, fiercely and unconditionally. You'd been there for him through thick and thin, especially after his quest left a jagged scar across his cheek and a hollowness in his eyes.

But then he suddenly just, snapped.

A memory surfaced in you , sharp and unwelcome. It had been months ago, a conversation in the darkness of his cabin in a particular cold night. Luke, his eyes filled with a desperate fervor, had confessed his anger towards the gods, his belief that they were cruel and neglectful parents. He'd spoken of tricking the Olympians, joining forces with the Titans to fight for a better life for all demigods.

The anger in his voice, the glint of rebellion in his eyes, had scared you. The scar on his face, a reminder of his failed quest, seemed to burn brighter that night.

You understood his anger. The gods were far from perfect, their neglect and cruelty evident in countless demigod lives. He'd begged you to join him, his voice filled with a desperate hope. But you'd refused, your loyalty to Camp Half-Blood and your friends unwavering. You had spent hours talking him through it as you held his hand, reminding him of all the good the gods had done, no matter how flawed they might be. He'd looked lost at the time, seeking comfort in your touch. You'd thought you'd reached him, extinguished that spark of rebellion.

You really believed that conversation was long forgotten. But there was a reason why you remembered it.

Some movement at the edge of the woods caught your eye. But it wasn't the boy you were expecting. Percy, his face pale and etched with worry, practically stumbled into the fireplace, his chest heaving and his grip tight on Riptide.

A pang of concern shot through you. "Percy?" you called out, concern lacing your voice. You pushed yourself off the ground, walking towards him. "What happened? Where's Luke?"

Percy hesitated, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. Shit, should he tell you? His silence was a hammer blow to your gut. You knew, with a chilling certainty, that something was terribly wrong.

"What?" you choked out, the question barely a whisper, expecting some kind of answer from the blonde boy, but nothing came from his trembling lips. The air felt dense, with a truth you desperately wanted to deny. You saw Luke getting into the woods with Percy, you saw it. And now, he was nowhere to be seen.

Then, it clicked. A cold, horrifying truth began to dawn on you.

He lied.

Without a word, you pushed Percy aside and started running, towards the woods. Your heart hammered against your ribs, like a trapped bird desperate to escape. You plunged into the darkness of the forest, the path you'd walked countless times with Luke now leading you into the unknown.

"Luke!" you screamed, your voice raw with anger and despair. You wove through the trees, the undergrowth tearing at your camp shirt, but you didn't care. You had to find him, to confront him, to understand why he'd chosen this path, if he chose it, why he'd lied to you.

But with each passing minute, hope crashed over you. The forest grew denser, the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the frantic beat of your own heart. There was no sign of Luke, no echo of his footsteps, no smell, no sense of his presence, only the chilling truth hanging heavy in the air.

He was gone.

He had left.

You sank to your knees, the weight of betrayal crushing you as the first tears you ever cried for Luke Castellan, started to fall. The man you loved, the person you'd trusted with your life, had chosen darkness over everything you held dear. He had chosen Kronos over you.

Grief, a cold and relentless serpent, coiled around your heart. And that feeling never seemed to leave.

The year that followed was a blur of sadness and a desperate attempt at normalcy. The silence from Luke was deafening. Not a single Iris-message, not a single sign of the one who once, was your boyfriend.

You knew you wouldn´t be able to return to Camp, at least not for now. Every corner held a ghost of Luke's smile, every sword clang a reminder of his battles and his betrayal. Your friends, the true ones, bless their hearts, tried everything to cheer you up from a distance, but their efforts felt like trying to pick up the pieces of a broken glass in the sea.

You opted to stay home that summer. But even there, away from the prying eyes and hushed whispers, escape from Luke's betrayal seemed impossible. Messages and news found you no matter where you hid. News of Luke leading a rogue army aboard a stolen cruise ship, rumors of him serving as Kronos's right hand while the Titan slumbered – it all reached your ears.

The nights were the worst. The darkness mirrored the hollowness within you. Tears would stain your pillow as you relived the events leading up to his betrayal. You once seemed to dream about seeing him again, and now you only screamed when you saw his face in your nightmares.

The memory of his touch, the warmth of his smile, the nights you spent loving each other with the sheets tangling in your legs, all felt like cruel illusions now. Yet, a part of you, a stubborn, illogical part, still clung to the love you once shared.

And Gods, did you try to keep yourself as busy as possible. You threw yourself into your studies and little courses here and there, seeking solace in facts and logic. You even began working, a boring but well payed summer job. Yet, the pain lingered, a dull ache that refused to subside.

The more you tried to banish these visions, the more vivid they became. You missed him like a starving man craved a feast, a yearning that gnawed at your insides and threatened to consume you. Frustration gnawed at you. How could you still love someone who'd betrayed you so utterly? How could your heart still ache for a man who chose war over you? The questions echoed endlessly within you, a relentless chorus fueling your self-conscious.

How could you be so weak?

These consuming questions were your companions for a whole year. But as the second summer after Luke's betrayal rolled around, a shift occurred within you. The raw, agonizing pain began to dull, replaced by a quiet resolve.

Finally, you decided it was time to take back control again. Camp Half-Blood called, a familiar haven among the storm. You returned a changed person. The vibrant smile that once adorned your face was a ghost, replaced by a guarded expression that spoke about the pain you harbored in silence. The camp's familiar energy felt hollow, a constant reminder of the happiness you'd lost.

Training became your sole solace. You'd disappear into the arena for hours, your celestial bronze sword a blur as you cleaved through training dummies, each swing fueled by a potent cocktail of grief and anger.

Exhaustion became your closest companion too. You pushed yourself to the limits of your endurance, hoping to find oblivion at the bottom of an empty fuel tank. But sleep, when it finally came, offered no escape. You'd dream of him, leading his army of rogue demigods, his eyes filled with a fanatical zeal that chilled you to the bone. And in those dreams, you'd see yourself, standing beside him, not out of loyalty to his cause, but out of a desperate yearning for the boy you once loved, still love.

In the quiet moments, when your friends weren't around, the dam would break. You'd collapse onto your cool and empty bed, tears streaming down your face, a raw, primal sob escaping your lips. The memory of Luke was no joy anymore, it haunted you like a specter.

You hated yourself for the traitorous flicker in your heart, the desperate, illogical yearning for him. It wasn't the war that tempted you; it was him.

You hated how much you missed him.

The scent of rain clung to the humid night air and to you like a second skin as you zipped up your duffel bag. Another summer at Camp Half-Blood loomed, promising a bittersweet mix of nostalgia and pain, but more training. The worst was yet to come, so you needed to be ready.

New York City, with its cacophony of car horns and the anonymity of millions, had become your refuge these past few months. In Manhattan, the memories of Luke seemed to hold less power for some weird reason, their edges dulling with the passage of time. You'd spent the past months in this tiny apartment, the silence deafening compared to the constant hum of life at camp.

Just then, a sharp rap on the door shattered the silence of your apartment. It was past midnight, an unusual time for visitors.

Adrenaline surged through you. Months of living fully alone had honed your senses. You'd become acutely aware of the city's underbelly – the flickering shadows that could hide monsters thanks to the ever-present mist. You'd seen them stalking the streets, stalking you, their true forms hidden to them mortals, an unsettling feeling crawling up your spine whenever their paths crossed yours. They never attacked, but their chilling presence followed you like a phantom.

Grabbing your necklace, you asked, "Yes?"

Silence. You weren't taking any chances. Pulling down at the pendant once, the necklace morphed into your celestial bronze dagger.

You took a step, two. Could it really be a monster? Could it really be some creature trying to get to you, by knocking on the door? With a shaky breath, you cracked the door open just enough to peek through the gap, hiding the dagger behind your back.

The sight that greeted you stole the air from your lungs.

Standing on your doorstep, bathed in the harsh glow of the hallway light, was Luke. His dark hair was windswept, his face etched with a gauntness that hadn't been there before, but his eyes – those were the same eyes that had haunted your dreams for months. They held a desperate plea, a flicker of the boy you once loved struggling to break through the hardened shell of the man he'd become.

“Luke?”

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words and a tangled web of emotions. Time seemed to warp in that hallway, a single moment stretched into an eternity. Luke looked different, yes. The carefree boy you knew had been replaced by a man hardened by experience, his features etched with lines that spoke of battles fought and burdens carried. But his eyes, those brown eyes that had once held a mischievous twinkle, now held a deeper sadness that mirrored your own.

"Hi" Luke finally said, his voice raspy.

You stood speechless, the dagger still clutched tightly in your hand. Years of longing warred with the fresh wounds of betrayal. You wanted to scream at him, to unleash the torrent of hurt and anger that suddenly washed over you. But something held you back, a flicker of curiosity, maybe.

"Um, can I come in?" he continued, his posture pleading despite his attempt at nonchalance.

Jesus. Was that all he had to say? After everything, after what he did, all he could muster was a request to enter your apartment? A tide of anger threatened to drown you. Did he not understand the gravity of what he'd done? Did he not realize the pain he'd caused? But you forced your thoughts down. You weren't a child anymore, throwing tantrums wouldn't solve anything.

"Are you armed?" you asked, your voice flat, devoid of any warmth.

Luke flinched at your question, a flicker of pain crossing his features. "You think I wanna hurt you?" he countered, his tone defensive.

"Last time I saw you," you spat back, your voice laced with bitterness, "was three years ago, and I know your little monsters are keeping an eye on me. The first thing I'm supposed to think about is whether you want to hurt me or not."

He sighed, a long, weary exhale. Unzipping his jacket, he turned slowly, patting down his pockets before turning back to you. His eyes, once alive with mischief and love, were now filled with a desperate sincerity. "See? No weapons. Just me."

You studied him, a battle raging within you. One part of you wanted to slam the door, to let him know that he wasn't welcome. Yet, another part, a smaller, more vulnerable part, couldn't help but cling to the flicker of hope that flickered amongst the ashes of your love.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you stepped aside, allowing a sliver of space for him to enter. "Fine" you said, your voice devoid of warmth. "But you better have a good reason to come here"

Luke hesitated for a beat before stepping inside. He closed the door softly behind him, the sound echoing through the tense silence. He stood there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning the room, landing finally on the packed bags besides the tv.

"You're heading back to camp?" he asked.

You flipped the dagger in your hand, and the celestial bronze morphed back into the golden necklace. "What do you want?" you repeated, your voice still sharp, a shield against the emotions swirling within you.

Luke stood awkwardly in the doorway, the once carefree boy replaced by a man burdened by the weight of his choices. His leather jacket seemed to hang heavy on his broad shoulders.

"I…" he started, then stopped, seemingly unsure how to proceed. He cleared his throat, the sound scratchy and unfamiliar. "You look different" he finally managed, the words tumbling out awkwardly.

You scoffed, a humorless sound that surprised even you.

"Look, yn" he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper, "I wanna talk, okay? I know what I did was wrong. I know I hurt you."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "You could say that again."

His fingers twitched at your bitterness, but pressed on. "I came here because..." He hesitated again, seemingly wrestling with an inner turmoil. "Because I-"

Frustration bubbled up within you. This cryptic approach, this lack of honesty, it was infuriating. "Because you what, Luke?" you demanded, your voice laced with a sharp edge. "Because you decided to grace me with your presence after leading a rebellion against the gods? Or maybe because you just wanted to see if I'm still waiting for you?"

You watched his face harden, the vulnerability replaced by a familiar defiance.

"Don't twist this" he snapped, his voice firm. "I came here because..." He took a deep breath, his eyes locking with yours. "Because I miss you, yn. I miss us."

The air crackled with a tension so thick you could almost taste it.

You took a slow step towards him, then another. He took notes of yourself as you did. The way you had grown internally was so intense that he could sense it everywhere. He might have betrayed you, but that only helped you get on your feet stronger, grow stronger. Become the warrior he always knew you were.

Then, in a move as instinctive as it was fierce, your hand lashed out. The slap connected with a stinging crack, the sound echoing through the apartment like a thunderclap. Luke's head snapped to the side, a crimson handprint blooming on his cheek. Shame flickered in his eyes as he scoffed, quickly replaced by a dull acceptance.

He deserved it, that much was clear.

"How dare you?” you spat, your voice shaking with barely controlled fury, "How fucking dare you come back here after what you've done? After leading a rebellion against the gods, after putting everyone we care about at risk? After betraying me?"

Luke took a shaky breath, running a hand over the burning mark on his face. "I'm sorry” he said, his voice low and ragged. "I'm so sorry. I know I hurt you, and I know a simple apology won't erase the pain or fix things. But you have to believe me, I never meant for things to get this bad"

He stepped towards you, his hands outstretched in a placating gesture, but you flinched back, the space between you a tangible barrier. "Don't touch me" you warned, your voice laced with ice.

He lowered his hands, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I know you hate me for what I´ve done. For joining Kronos, I-“

"You think this is all about Kronos?" you cut him off, your voice shaking with barely contained fury. "You think the reason my heart has been broken these past years is because you joined a fucking Titan?"

Luke remained silent, the weight of your words pressing down on him like a collapsing mountain. He knew better.

"This is about what you did to me, Luke" you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. "I was with you, all the time. I was your girlfriend! And you betrayed me. You left me alone” your voice broke so hard that you had to take a second to swallow the big gulp that was forming in your throat. “Everyone at camp looked at me after what you did," you choked out. "They either felt sorry for me, or they insulted me, saying that I was still loyal to you, that I was a traitor."

You closed your eyes for a moment, the pain etched on your face a stark reminder of the devastation he'd wrought. "You were the most important person in my life" you cried, your voice raw and vulnerable. "But you? You let Kronos fill your head with empty promises, and just like that, you forgot about us."

The truth felt like a bitter pill to swallow. He opened his mouth to speak.

"I asked you to come with me" he finally whispered, his voice thick with regret. "I gave you the chance to leave with me."

"And even after I said no," you countered, your voice trembling like the finger that was now pointing at his chest, "you still left. You threw me away like shit. And do you know what the worst part is?" Tears streamed down your face, tracing a path through the dust of old heartache. "That as much as I try, I can't seem to hate you."

A sob escaped your lips, shattering the fragile dam you'd built around your emotions. "I still love you, Luke" you confessed. "Even though it's a love that fills me with pain, it's still there. I hate myself because I dream about you, about the way things used to be. But when I don't, I feel like a piece of me is missing."

You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears and a raw vulnerability that left Luke speechless.

What had he done?

"I hate myself because I can't help but pray for your safety, even though you never seemed to care about mine. I hate myself because even after everything, I still love you, Luke."

Your heart felt like a shattered kaleidoscope, a million shards of love, anger, and pain reflecting back at you in a distorted reality. You walked and sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands as sobs racked your body.

Luke, his heart heavy with a remorse sharper than any weapon, watched you crumble. The carefree girl he fell in love with was gone, replaced by a woman etched with the scars of his own actions. Hesitantly, he reached out, placing a hand on your back as he sat down next to you, a gesture of comfort that felt more like a branding iron on his guilt.

"yn” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I still love you too."

You didn't respond, the sobs coming in ragged gasps as your body struggled to contain the storm within.

"I know I left you" he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "And you didn't deserve it. But… I was so lost, so angry. Kronos promised me power, a solution to all the problems I saw. He convinced me that Olympus was corrupt, that the gods didn't care about half-bloods like us. And when you said no, he-, he told me to leave you behind, said that it would be easier for everyone…"

His voice trailed off. Easier for who? Easier for him, perhaps, to sever the ties that bound him, to plunge headfirst into a rebellion fueled by manipulated ideals.

"But it wasn't" he choked out, a tear escaping his eye, carving a glistening path down his cheek. "Every day, every step I took… it was a constant reminder of what I'd lost. The guilt was eating me alive, yn, you have to believe me”. His hands desperately reached for yours, trying to get your fingers to intertwine by placing his over yours.

Tears welled up in his own eyes. "I regret everything. I mean it. I don't want to do this anymore."

You finally lifted your head, your eyes red-rimmed and brimming with unshed tears. Luke looked different to you now, the bravado and arrogance gone, replaced by a vulnerability that mirrored your own.

"Don't want to do what?" you asked, your voice hoarse.

"This” he gestured vaguely to himself, but you didn’t quite catch it. "Following Kronos. Helping him rise to power. It's wrong. I can see that now."

“Little late to that, isn’t it?” you blurted out.

He took a deep breath, his expression resolute. "yn, there's a reason I came to you. A reason I risked Kronos' trust in me." He paused, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Kronos wants me to become his host."

And the world seemed to suddenly stop. You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Your mind raced, trying to process what he had just said. Luke, your Luke, becoming a vessel for the monstrous Titan?

"What?" you croaked, fear coating your voice like frost. Your eyes darted around, searching for a way out, a solution, anything. But Luke wouldn't meet your gaze, his jaw clenched tight, a storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. "No. No, he can't. It's not possible."

The thought of him, Luke, being consumed by Kronos, twisted your insides into knots.

Luke, however, seemed to gather his resolve. "Yes, it is" he said, his voice low and strained. "There are things you don't know, yn. Things I've done."

A cold dread gripped your stomach, a physical manifestation of the terror that clawed at your insides. Your mind raced, desperate for answers. "Then tell me" you only managed to say. "Luke, what have you done?"

He hesitated, looking around as if afraid someone might be listening. "There's no time now" he finally said, his voice tight with urgency. "But I promise I will explain everything. That's not why I'm here."

Taking a deep breath, he dared to reach out, his hand gently grasping yours, finally. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through you, a stark contrast to the chilling fear that gripped you.

He called your name, his voice softening. "Come with me" he said.

You only feel capable of frowning your brows in confusion. "Go where?" you asked, your voice wary.

"Anywhere" he said, like a plea. "Let's run away, together. It can be just you and me again"

He leaned closer, the air around him crackling with a tension that mirrored the storm within you. As his forehead rested against yours, a jolt of electricity shot through you. It was a familiar warmth, a spark that had ignited countless stolen kisses and whispered secrets back when your world wasn't teetering on the brink of war. His other hand cupped your cheek, the touch a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you. His hand, usually warm and comforting, felt cool against your burning skin, a physical reminder of the distance that had grown between you. Yet, despite the chill, a wave of longing washed over you, a yearning for the simple comfort of his touch.

But reason tugged at you, a voice of caution in the midst of the storm. "But Luke," you stammered, pulling away slightly, "If you escape, Kronos will come for you. He'll come for us, and-,"

"I don't care" he interrupted, his voice resolute, yet laced with a tremor that betrayed his bravado. It was as if he was on the precipice, teetering between defiance and the vulnerability of a man on the verge of breaking. "I'll fight everything that comes for us. And if the war happens... I'll fight. I'll fight for everyone, I’ll fight for you. I'm not losing you again, yn."

His words resonated deep within you, a desperate echo of the love you still harbored for him, a love you thought you'd buried beneath layers of anger and sadness. You saw the fear in his eyes, a fear that you sadly shared, but beneath it, a flicker of something else – a raw, desperate hope. And as you looked at him, a wave of relief washed over you.

The relief of knowing he wasn't entirely lost, that a part of the Luke you loved still existed.

"I love you" he confessed again, his voice trembling.

Looking into his eyes, a storm of emotions swirling within them, the truth resonated with you. "I love you too" you whispered, the words tumbling from your lips like a long-awaited confession.

The world did indeed, stop. The rain, a relentless symphony against the window pane, faded into a distant murmur. The thunders became a muffled echo. In that moment, the only reality was the space between you and Luke, charged with the unspoken electricity of your confessions.

He leaned in further, a hesitant question in his eyes. A flicker of fear danced in their depths, a scared boy seeking forgiveness beneath the warrior's facade. You watched him, a bittersweet ache blooming in your chest.

With a sigh that trembled on your lips, you closed the distance. Your lips met in a hesitant touch, a tentative exploration of a forgotten familiarity. Three years of longing, of unspoken words and simmering emotions, poured into that kiss. It was sweeter than you'd dared to imagine, a warmth that spread from your lips and drizzled down your chest.

Unlike the passionate encounters of your past, this felt different; like kissing him for the first time. Luke's lips moved against yours with a reverence that sent shivers down your spine. He held back, his desperate desire tempered with a respect that surprised you. You knew him.

But then, you yielded. Your lips parted, a silent invitation, and his tongue met yours in a dance as old as time. A full, heavy and angry thunderclap erupted outside, a jarring contrast to the intimacy unfolding on the couch. But you paid it no mind, lost in the whirlpool of rediscovered affection.

Your arms encircled his neck, a desperate hold. He, in turn, cupped your waist, his touch lingering on the curve of your hip as he gently lowered you onto the soft cushion. His body hovered above yours. His lips, however, remained glued to yours, a relentless exploration that spoke of a love both fierce and fragile.

The kiss deepened, a slow burn that threatened to consume you both. You felt the familiar rhythm of his heart against yours, a counterpoint to the frantic beat of your own. It was a melody of second chances, of unspoken apologies and nascent hope.

His hand trailed down your back, teasingly brushing under your shirt, sending shivers dancing across your skin. You arched into his touch, a wordless plea for more. But just then, he pulled away, his breath ragged, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions.

His voice, a husky murmur against your skin, sent shivers down your spine. "I missed this so much," he whispered, his lips trailing down the delicate column of your neck and the dip of your collarbone. His warm breath mingled with your own, a heady mix of emotions swirling around you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, the familiar texture a stark reminder of the past you both desperately clung to. He reached for your pulse, slowly sucking in before letting it pop.

"I wanted to feel you every night" he confessed. "Every night, I dreamt of you." His words were a stark contrast to the cold, distant Luke you saw in your dreams, the only vivid memory you’ve had of him the past years.

"Luke" you whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to speak.

He didn't stop. His hand drifted down your torso, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your lower tummy. Every touch felt like a brand, a searing reminder of what you had lost and the uncertainty that lay ahead.

"It was a mistake" he said, his voice thick with regret. "A big, fucking mistake. Leaving you, betraying you-, it was the biggest mistake of my life. My life doesn't make any sense without you."

With a strangled sound, Luke deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a desperation that mirrored your own. You clung to him, a drowning sailor grasping at a lifeline. The scent of leather that clung to him was intoxicating, a familiar anchor in this storm of emotions.

"Luke" you managed to gasp between kisses, a flicker of reason breaking through the haze of desire. You needed more than just words, needed a binding promise, something concrete to hold onto if you were to take this leap of faith.

He stared at you, his eyes a storm of emotions – desire, confusion, and a flicker of something that might have been annoyance. But before he could respond, you pressed on.

"Swear on it, Luke" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "Swear on the River Styx” you repeat. Luke’s eyes dart back and forth, from your lips, to your eyes, to filling up with confusion. “I’m not-,” you cut yourself off as you feel your eyes filling with tears again. You bit your tongue before speaking, “I’m not letting you hurt me like this again"

You knew it was selfish, a desperate attempt to safeguard your heart. But Luke was here, finally, after all this time. You craved the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence. The thought of letting him go again, of enduring another betrayal, was unbearable. Yet, a part of you, still scarred from the past, craved a guarantee, an oath sworn on the most powerful river in the Underworld. It was dangerous, yes, but did you care?

Did he care?

Luke's expression hardened. The River Styx, held a weight that couldn't be ignored. The river he already bathed himself in. It was a binding vow, a promise etched in the very fabric of existence.

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for a flicker of doubt, a hint of manipulation. But all he saw was the vulnerability, the fear – a vulnerability born from the scars he himself had inflicted.

"I swear on the River Styx" he said, his voice low and solemn, each word heavy with the weight of the oath. "I swear I won’t ever leave you. I swear I love you. I swear I'll fight for you, for us, with every breath in my lungs."

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

HI SWEETIE I HAVE A REQUEST!! i hope you dont mind!

so, bucky and f!reader, maybe married and they have a baby together. after that time of recovery reader is a bit shy of her own body cause it's been a while since they did it and she isnt back at her pre-pregnancy weight and bucky is absolutely like mind blown by her beauty? like, nearly drooling? and please can you add body worship on this?

i seriously hope it's okay for you, but if it's not please ignore this!

HII BBY!! I love love love it. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

DEFLECTION.

​bucky barnes x fem!reader (married & parents) — comfort

word count. 1031

disclaimer. the hair colour and type has no significance to the writing. the gif just suits the theme of this fic. also please read the ask carefully

Only a few short months ago, you gave birth to a healthy baby girl - a daughter you shared with your husband, Bucky. Very quickly she became the sole focus of your attention, neither of you having much time to do anything like you used to. 

Consequently, your sex life had taken a hit, and not because of the significant decrease in quality time, but instead something far more complex.

So far, motherhood has been a slight struggle to adjust to - the differences in your life between then and now are almost stark. You've been trying to adapt to all the changes that come with it, the main being your new body. You've been feeling shy and insecure with your new shape, often feeling like the weight will never drop off to what you looked like before.

It was hard to digest the change.

You were in the bathroom to freshen up, your eyes looking back at you in the mirror almost pitifully - your gaze travelling down, honing in on your stomach through your once baggy tee.

"They're here," Bucky calls from the other room, his voice putting a hold on the thoughts in your mind.

You step out of the bathroom, meeting your husband and daughter by the front door, a pink baby bag slung over his shoulder.

He notices the downcast direction of your eyes, seeing the way you tried to pull away from his attention. "Everything okay?" he asks you, rocking his little girl in his arms, bouncing her when she makes a noise.

You hum, walking closer to say goodbye to your baby - running a finger over her soft cheek. 

He doesn't believe you, though he waits for it to be just the two of you before he can question it. He doesn't want to create a situation before your parents arrive to pick up your daughter. They offered to have her for a few hours to give you both some respite.

The second the door closes, and it's just the two of you again, he turns to look at you - his brows curled up inquisitively.

"Now, what's really going on?" he asks, referring to all those times you shut yourself off from him - primarily that one a few minutes ago.

You turn away, heading to the kitchen to get a drink. "Going on with what?" you deflect, trying to avoid the topic.

He follows you, standing behind you at the sink - his arms wrapping around your middle, chin resting over your shoulder. 

But he's too close to where you don't want him, so you flinch at his touch, moving his hands away from your tummy and stretching the hem of your top - pulling on the fabric.

Bucky rips his hands from you, your avoidance of his touch making things whirl in his mind. "You don't like that anymore?" he asks, stepping aside to face the side of you.

"I do... just— just not right now," you reply, taking a quick sip of water before moving across the kitchen - heading towards the fridge. "Tired, feel gross," you shrug, trying to ease the tension you accidentally created. 

"That's not it," he softly shakes his head, eyes focused on you even though every glance goes unreciprocated. "It's something else."

"Just need a nap and shower," you partially lie, pulling out two apples, handing him one.

He doesn't accept your attempt at deflection, instead turning it down. "No, it's something else," he continues, his eyes glued to the side of your face. "And you're afraid of saying it."

"I'm not," you softly protest, voice quiet.

"So it is something else," he mutters, the unknown confession of you making things easier for him, harder for you.

You're cornered. You sigh and nod faintly, closing the door of the fridge. 

"What is it? Please talk to me," he reaches for your hand, fingers wrapping themselves around yours. "It's just the two of us, no distractions... what's been going on?"

"It's hard to get used to," you start, pausing to think of what to say next.

"What is? Being a mom?" he asks, noticing your focused gaze on the baby stuff on the counter. 

You nod, pausing once more. "Not just that," you exhale, shrugging. "Everything's changed."

"With us?" he asks, hand tightening in yours. 

"With me," you correct, looking down at your hand in his. "I've changed, and I'm not used to it... I don't like it."

"How have you changed?" he questions, trying to prompt more answers from you. 

"My body has," you softly reply, trying not to squirm at your confession. "My boobs, tummy, my hair. The weight is taking longer to come off than I thought, and I feel— I feel like a..." you go quiet, not wanting to finish your sentence.

However, Bucky's not done coaxing words from you. His face softens when you finally meet his gaze, his features inviting and knowing. "Feel like a what?" he whispers.

"I don't know," you shrug again.

"'You are not your thoughts'," he says, reciting those words you've said to him countless times after his nightmares. Though now he's repurposing them to someone else who needs them, you. "I repeat that saying in my head all the time. Do you know who taught me that?" he asks, his gaze honing in on you - trying to stop you from looking away.

"Me," you whisper. 

"That's right," he nods, bringing his spare hand to cup your cheek. "You need to use that same kindness to yourself. And right now," he starts, pressing a kiss into your lips. "You have never looked more beautiful to me."

You softly frown, the rest of your features relaxing.

"Your body gave us a daughter," he smiles. "You made her. You may or may not get your ‘old body back.’ But the one you have now is perfect too.”

"Thank you," your voice cracks, the sweet words of your lover soothing all the doubts in your mind. You envelop him in an embrace, arms hugging around him in the ways you've recently longed for. "I mean it."

His arms wrap around you just as tight, one hand running up your spine. "So do I.”

[meowsuguru]

eyes on me

Dancer!Reader x Bartender!Geto

౨ৎ cont: suguru geto x fem! reader, unprotected, first time squirt, oral f!receiving, confessions.

౨ৎ word count: 4.5k

౨ৎ a/n: my life blood ty to whoever reads < 3

It’s been an awful night. Smoke clings to your skin, hair, teeth, and tongue as you come back into the club from the backdoor. Just a quick break, allowing nicotine to ease the tension in your brain. The head rush gives you just a moment’s respite, but it’s quickly overtaken the moment you step back into the club. The neon lights that adorn the walls flicker. It only serves to emphasize your mood, and it’s the most sour of moods. All thanks to the countless men who have touched despite the “no touching” rule and the incessant requests. 

“Let’s meet after you get off work.” 

“If I give you $1000 can we fuck?” 

“I’ll slide a little bit more your way if you take care of this problem.”

It’s gross. More than that, it makes you feel dirty. 

It’s the same every night. Same sleazy men, with the same revolting dispositions. You’re just here to dance, something you love doing, to make a little money for college. It’s simple. It should be easy. You’re great at it. 

But, as you have the bouncer throw out another handsy client, it doesn’t feel as easy as it once did.

You hate it. It burns in your chest. You’ve been dancing here for almost eight months, and it’s starting to wear on you. Your head is spinning, tunnel-visioned on getting out. Gotta get out. Gotta get-

“Somethin’ wrong?” Calls the bartender, perceptive as you shake your head, snapping out of the daze you were in. 

“Nothin’, just the usual. It’s been a lot of scum these past few weeks,” you sigh, relieved to be talking to a friend. 

“You seem pretty frazzled. Need some water?” He offers as he wipes down the bar. 

It’s 10 minutes to closing time and the only clients left are the filthy stragglers who frequent the club every night. The bouncers make their rounds, cleaning house as they urge the clients to leave.

“You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here,” you hear one of them say. 

You nod, sitting down across the bar. A tall glass is slid to you, ice cold with condensation already frosting the outside. You take big gulps, your anxiety from the night calming slightly the longer the liquid slides down your throat. 

Suguru Geto never offers you drinks on the clock. He knows to take care of his girls. But, with the way you’re feeling, a real drink sounds better than nice. 

“Suguru,” you say, and he turns his head to meet your gaze. 

“I need a drink.” 

He looks at you pointedly and sighs. 

“You’re still on, princess. You know I can't serve you.” 

“I’m off in 10. Let me have it just this once. I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t serious.” 

Suguru is a principled man. He believes in what he believes, and it’s nearly impossible to sway him. So when he says “no alcohol,” he means it. You groan, finishing your water. 

“Wanna talk about it?” He asks after a beat of comfortable silence, taking your empty glass and setting it to the side. 

“Not really,” you admit, laying your head on your arms. “Seven minutes. Then I’ll take my drink.” 

Suguru frowns, but eventually relents, nodding.  You watch as he cleans the leftover glasses from the night, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, signature one lock falling in his left eye. Suguru is good-looking, you think, but you’d never sleep with a coworker. Your job is already dramatic enough, no need to add fuel to the fire. Nevertheless, you quietly admire him as you wait for the time to pass. 

“Five minutes gives me enough time for a dance,” you say, “Need to end this night on a good note.” 

Suguru hums, eyes never leaving the glass he’s drying.

“Watch me?” 

When you ask this, you don’t know why. Suguru is nice to you, sweet. He cares about all the girls at the club. Perhaps you want to share your love with your friend. You really do love dancing, you think, as you walk up the steps of the stage.

The DJ spots you and puts a song on, something unhurried, languid, smooth like silk. You bring yourself up around the pole, two arms locked on tight as you swing your legs up. Your legs twist in a familiar way as you spin, slowly, letting your body fall backward as you grab the metal with your hands. You hang upside down now, legs crossed above your head. The way you move is easy— intentional— like this is something you were made for. You kick off, one leg at a time, arms holding still against the metal as you spin, slowly, fluidly like water. A glance at the bar tells you Suguru is watching just as you’d asked. Eyes closing, you continue to dance. 

Your song ends and you walk back down the stairs, eyes gazing at your feet.

As you walk up to Suguru, you notice he’s returned to cleaning up the bar. You tap your nails on the bar, quirking an eyebrow up at him to get his attention. He looks up, with that damned crooked grin. 

“You watched me.”

“Beautiful as ever.” 

You give him a soft smile, but it’s quickly dropped as your lips are pulled into a tight line. He notices this and sighs. 

“Fine,” he starts, “what’ll you take?” 

You hum, pleased. He rolls his eyes.

“Vodka soda, pretty please.” 

Suguru makes the drink easily, setting it in front of you with a cocktail napkin underneath. You bring the glass to your lips, relishing in the feeling of the alcohol hitting your tongue. You don’t stop: tipping your head back, letting the drink fill your mouth and slide down your throat. A bit spills out of the corner of your lips and you stop, the heel of your hand tenderly wiping up the stream. The way your lipstick smudges is not lost in Suguru’s gaze, as his eyes flick between your lips and your hand. 

“Easy, princess,” he warns, handing you a fresh napkin. You take it graciously and dab down your chin and chest where the drink spilled. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you answer curtly. 

“I think you do.” 

You regard him for a moment, a nasty side eye as he looks at you with that same damned smile. His eyes are so soft, so inviting. You consider it, as he stands there, letting you drink instead of closing up. The way he calls you princess, only you, the way he is always always there to lend you a shoulder. It’s just so easy for Suguru to break down your walls. 

“I’m tired, Suguru.” 

You hang your head, drawing circles on the bar counter. 

“Tired?” He asks, giving you an opportunity to explain. 

“With- with everything. I can’t just sit here and be demeaned all night every night. It’s exhausting,” you start, pushing your drink away. He grabs it and puts it off to the side. You don’t need the liquid courage for this now, you’re in the safe company of a friend. 

The club has been emptied by now, most of the lights turned off as the dim bulb of the bar hangs above you. Your breath shakes, and you wrap your arms around yourself. 

“I know,” Suguru’s eyes soften, “I know.” 

“I love to dance, and I need the money– the money isn’t even that good, it just-” you trail off, unsure of how to voice your anxieties. 

“I can’t keep doing this.” 

“Then quit,” he says simply. 

“It’s not that easy, Suguru-”

“I know. Sorry, bad advice,” he supplies. 

You say it’s okay, that he’s not your therapist or your life coach or anything of the sort. He shakes his head and flicks the light switch, leaving you two in the dark of the closed club. 

“Want to go for a drive?” He asks, your eyes adjusting to the dark finally as you make out his form. 

“Yeah.” 

–

You find yourself, dressed back in your daytime clothes, in the passenger seat of Suguru’s Jeep. Black interior, black exterior. This guy really has a vibe, you think. You throw your duffel in the back seat when you sit down, and Suguru turns the key, engine roaring to life. You don’t question where you’re going; you don't care where you're going. You roll the window down, feeling the wind hit your face. You close your eyes, remembering easier times. Suguru glances at you, and rolls his own window down. 

He drives, out of the city, and neither of you speak. The dying night’s air kisses your cheeks and ruffles your hair, sparring a bit of hope in your chest. It blooms, like love, and you watch the moon be chased down into the day. You hope and hope, tossing your frustrations away as each leak of light peeks higher in the skyline behind you. 

“I don’t want to be tired anymore,” you say into the wind. If Suguru hears you, you don’t know. 

He just drives, out and up.

–

You arrive at a plateau, abandoned in the dawn. The clouds are down far below your feet, orange skies breaking through the fog. You hop out of the car, sneakers hitting the gravel with a crunch. It makes the breath leave your lungs, the view. You turn, facing Suguru, your hair blowing around your face. He pauses as he comes around the front of the car, looking at you. His eyes are soft, as they always are. You tear your gaze away and look down at the city, far beyond the clouds, as the sun comes up over the horizon. 

 “I like to come here sometimes, when I’ve got too much on my mind,” he says, breaking the silence.

“I can see why.”

Suguru comes to your side, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. 

There is a chill in the air and you wrap your arms around yourself, tucking your nose into the collar of your hoodie.The two of you fall into another comfortable silence, the air stilling around you two. You lean up against the hood of the car, feeling the heat radiate off of it, warming your bones.

Suguru inhales, and exhales. He inhales again. In a rare display of vulnerability, he speaks. 

“You can’t let them get to you,” he starts; your name leaves his lips in a whisper. “They don’t mean anything, all those guys. You can’t let them break you.”

You look at him, and he looks ahead. 

“It’s getting too hard to ignore,” you reply, frowning. 

You look forward again, tearing your gaze away from his profile, face illuminated in the orange glow of the sunrise. 

“I think I need to quit dancing.” 

“Don’t. That was bad advice,” Suguru says, chuckling.

“I’m serious.” 

He looks at you now, eyes softer than you’ve seen.

“You’re the most beautiful dancer.”  

You tear your eyes away, staring at the sun. You squint, pulling your hoodie up over your nose this time. It’s funny. You can still see the stars in the sky, even as the sun comes up. It chases the night away, and you feel a warmth in your chest. A once-spirited young girl, broken by the brutality of her field. You sigh, letting it go, chased away by the day just as the stars were. Letting the hoodie fall below your chin, you look back at Suguru and find him still looking at you. His eyes roam your face, not scrutinizing, memorizing. As you open your mouth to speak, he shakes his head. 

“You don’t have to say anything.” 

– 

Suguru drives you home. The drive is quiet, save for the low music. You play the conversation in your head over and over, mulling over what you should do. When he pulls in front of your apartment complex, you turn, facing him. 

“I won’t quit,” you say, eyes fiery and newly determined.

“Good,” he smiles, “I’d miss you too much.” 

“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” you laugh, the first genuine one in a good while.

“You’re makin’ me soft, princess.” 

You shake your head. 

“Why do you insist on calling me that?” You ask, your stomach doing somersaults as he gazes at you with that stupid, dopey, lopsided grin and those half-lidded eyes.

“You’re my favorite girl,” he supplies simply, like it’s so obvious. 

“I bet you tell all the girls that,” you scoff.

“Nope. Only you,” he chuckles, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger on your skin a little bit too long to just be a friendly gesture. It’s tender, and there’s this look in his eye you don’t want to acknowledge.

You swallow. Sure, Suguru is smoking fucking hot but he’s also your coworker, which could make things awkward. You really don’t want another reason to hate work. But, you decide to throw caution to the wind, and see what happens. He’s your friend. He could be more. You shiver.

“Promise?” You ask, blinking twice. You stick your pinky out for good measure.

He loops his pinky in yours, shaking his head and laughing softly, the sound making you smile.

“Promise.” He raises your hands, placing a kiss on your interlocked fingers. Your heart just about stops at that, the gesture so… unlike what you’d expect from him. It has your mind reeling, thinking about what Suguru would act like as a boyfriend. 

“Suguru…” you say, low as you hold each other’s gazes, the air suddenly charged with something. 

“I’m going to kiss you now.” 

A response catches in your throat and you nod, helpless. He leans in, cupping your cheek with his hand, and you instinctively move forward, lips parting. He’s so close you can feel his breath. He hesitates, eyelids fluttering closed, before he finally, finally presses his lips to yours. You feel like your mouth molds to his, and in an instant, you’re clutching at the nape of his neck, threading your fingers through his hair. He hums, the sound low as it rumbles through you, and you squeeze your eyes closed tighter, scared it’ll be over soon. It seems as if Suguru has no intention of stopping, as he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip. You gasp into the kiss, it feels so right to be kissing Suguru like this, and he slips his tongue into your mouth, prodding gently at your tongue. You about cry when he pulls away, a strangled sound leaving your lips. He just smiles, still leaned in close as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Come inside,” you exhale.

“I would’ve waited years to hear you say that. I’m so glad I didn’t have to.” 

–

It’s easy, with Suguru. He’s peeling your hoodie off, lips connecting to yours the moment your head is freed. He’s got one hand splayed out over the small of your back, pulling you closer, closer, closer. Your hands fiddle with the zipper on your skirt and he slips his free hand under it to cup your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. His hand snakes up your spine, stopping at your bra to unhook it with nimble fingers and helping you shed it from your front. His hand slides around you, thumb grazing the underside of your breast. He cups it now, kneading at the soft flesh. Your hands tangle in his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. 

It’s just so easy. He kisses you like he’s taking care of you. The morning pours through the blinds in your room, dust trickling through the leaks of light. He lays you down, lips never separating from yours as your head hits the pillow. He pulls away to look at you, and he groans. His hair falls all around your face, framing both of you in inky black. 

“You. You can’t even see yourself,” he says, low and surprisingly breathless. 

You forego words for a shake of your head, and you inhale shakily. 

“You’re one to talk…” 

He chuckles, head dipping down to the crook of your neck, the sound reverberating throughout you. You always thought it was easier in the dark, but something about the soft light of the early morning feels just… so surreal. You tip your head to the side, letting his lips roam your neck, nipping at the soft skin. 

His hand comes up, rolling your nipple between his forefinger and thumb, while his lips travel down your neck, to your collarbone, to your opposite breast, taking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the bud. You arch yourself into him, your moans only spurring him on. 

“That fuckin’ sound…” he groans against your breast. “Do it again…” he attaches his lips back to your nipple, teeth grazing it ever so gently and you whine. 

He must’ve liked that because he's slipping his hand in between your thighs. His fingers press against your clothed center, feeling how wet you are through your panties. He can’t help himself, it seems, as he kisses down your stomach, head finding its place between your thighs. He inhales deeply, nose pressed against your cunt just aching with need, and he curses. 

“Fuck, pretty girl. You smell amazing. You’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind, want you so much,” he babbles into your underwear, and you’re slowly starting to realize this guy is fucking filthy. You moan, the realization hitting you as he’s pulling your panties off with his teeth and stuffing them in his pocket. He sits up, pulling his long hair out of his face and into a messy ponytail. You rub your thighs together at the sight, feeling the slick between your legs. He comes back down, pressing his face against your inner thigh, inhaling your scent deeply. 

“My favorite girl, look at this pretty pussy…” he drags a finger through your wet folds, prodding at your entrance with a thick finger. You’re panting now, expectant and wanting, and he slowly pushes one inside, his tongue lapping at your clit as his middle finger enters you. He moans against your cunt, continuing to work you with his mouth as you writhe underneath him. You clench your legs around his head, the feeling too much, but he pries your legs apart with his free hand, pulling away.

“Nuh, uh, baby. I gotta hear every fuckin’ sound you make. As much as I want those thighs as earmuffs,” he says, reattaching his lips and tongue to you. 

He’s practically making out with it, pussy drunk and grinding his hips against the mattress. You feel the tension build in your gut, and he adds a second finger. You have to bite your lip, and he bites the inside of your thigh. You yelp, but the jolt of pain makes you clench around his fingers.

“Gonna make you come so hard you’ll be cryin’ baby. You want that?” he groans, working you with his fingers, his tongue darting back out to swirl around your clit. He sucks on it, and you buck your hips up into his mouth. He moans into you as you ride his tongue, grinding your cunt on his face like you need it. Because, you do. You need it so bad you’re begging him. 

“Please, Suguru,” you slur, chasing your high. 

“Oh god,” you cry, hand finding his hair, messing it up as strands fall in his face as he eats you out. You’re too focused on your release now, and his head stops moving, just letting you ride his face. 

“C’mon pretty girl. Give it to me. Please,” he’s whimpering into your cunt, sucking on your clit and curling his fingers just right and- fuck.

Your vision goes white and you’re gasping, hot and heavy in your gut as your orgasm shreds the last of your resolve and you are crying, hot tears spilling from your eyes as you tell him to keep going, keep going. He laps at you, working you through your orgasm, as he grinds himself against the mattress again. 

“So good, baby, you taste so good, I wanna make you squirt,” he says. He’s pumping his fingers into you as you ride out your orgasm, slipping a third in and you’re clenching so hard around him. He pulls his fingers out and you gush, you’ve never done that before and he’s drinking you up, your head spinning as you cry, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes. He comes up for air finally, pressing a soft kiss on your stomach. 

“Knew you could do it, princess,” he mumbles against your skin. He’s on his knees again, positioning your hips as he unzips his pants, his cock springing up as it's freed from the constraints of his trousers. He wastes no time sliding his cock between your folds and then pressing at your entrance, your pussy sucking him in greedily as you moan, unable to form words or any coherent sounds. He’s so fucking thick it’s making your eyes roll back, and you have to squeeze them shut to help you get through the feeling of him bottoming out. 

“Don’t close your eyes, baby,” he says as he moves, thrusting into you again, “look at me while I’m fucking you.” 

Your eyes fly open and you’re nodding, helpless as he throws your ankles over his shoulders and hits you just right. 

“Jesus, fuck, Suguru…” You’re chanting his name, spurring him on.

“Christ, this pussy is fucking killing me,” Suguru groans as his cock slides back into you, making you cry out, his name spilling off your lips in short gasps. You feel your walls clench slightly at the feeling of being so full again, and he sets a brutal pace. He wraps his arms around your thighs as he fucks you, pulling you impossibly closer, and you can hear how your skin slaps. You can’t even give a fuck how it’s seven in the morning, or how you’re going to quit your job after this so no other man can even think about touching you. Suguru must be a mind reader, because he’s bending you in half now, lips by your ear as he drives into you so deep.

“Quit your fucking job. Let me take care of you. I wanna take care of you baby, please,” he babbles, breath stuttering as you suck him in.

“Bad advice,” you murmur, jaw slack as your mouth hangs open in a gasp. 

“Fuck that, hnghh, want you all to myself. Gotta get you out of there, princess,” he hammers into you, cock so deep it’s brushing up against your cervix. 

“My pretty girl shouldn’t have to- fuckkkkk, baby- deal with all that bullshit,” he’s babbling into your neck, teeth clamping down on your pulse point. 

You clench around him at the need in his voice, the possessiveness eliciting a gasp from your lips. His girl? Your brain is mush at this point and you really like the sound of that. You feel the coil tightening in your gut as your second orgasm nears, and you're gripping at his hair, tugging on the strands, begging begging for your release. 

“You like that baby? Like when I call you my girl?” He groans, pace unrelenting. 

“You wanna be my girl, princess? Please. Please be my girl. Need you so bad. Always have.” He kisses you, not giving you a chance to answer. His need is felt as his tongue is shoved into your mouth, swallowing up your sounds. As he pulls away, you’re a mess. 

“Please, Suguru, Sugu… wanna be your girl, yes, yes,” you’re panting and he just whimpers into the crook of your neck again, breathy as he picks up his pace. The tip of his cock hits just right at this speed and you’re coming, eyes hitting the back of your skull as you shut them, rolled behind closed eyelids. He grips your chin in his hand, tapping on your cheek. 

“Look at me, baby.” 

And that’s how you are with Suguru. You look at him, because he asked you to. As your eyes meet, he knits his eyebrow together, groaning. You think, maybe, he needs you. 

You see stars around Suguru as you come, vision blurry from the wetness in your eyes and the intensity of your orgasm. Suguru groans as you spasm around his length, and his hips start to stutter. He is getting erratic with his movements, but takes it and fucks you through it just how you need it. 

“Shit, baby. Let me come inside you.” He’s begging you, hand on your cheek and his thumb brushing over your bottom lip as you come down from your high, sensitive and spent. You let him prod his thumb into your mouth, slack-jawed and trusting. You don’t close it or suck, just let him do it. He groans at the sight, and you nod, finally. 

All it takes is that nod and the sight of your loose jaw. He thrusts, once, twice, and then he’s spilling into you, moaning in your ear, and you’re gasping, clutching at his back as he comes. 

“Fuck, baby, princess, love this, love your pussy, milking me for all I’m worth, fuck-“ he gasps, your hand sliding up to his hair as he babbles nonsense into your ear. 

“Fuckin’ love your pussy, love you so much, God,” he pants and you freeze, the words hitting you like a freight train. 

He stills, lips coming up to press a kiss to your forehead, the gesture tender and sweet in stark opposition to his filthier behaviors. Suguru freezes, his lips still on your forehead, before he pulls away. 

“What did you say?” You ask quietly, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“I…” he starts, eyes mirroring yours. 

“I didn’t- I don’t… I don’t know what came over me.” 

“You don’t mean it?” You ask, a pang of disappointment aching in your chest. You’re not sure why. It must’ve just slipped out. He doesn’t have to mean it. You’re close, but nothing about your relationship insinuates he should feel that way. 

“No! I mean… I,” he fumbles with his words, exhaling sharply. “I’m in love with you. I have been for a while. I just didn’t want you to think I was like everyone else.” He sighs, sitting up. The feeling of him pulling out of you has you feeling strangely empty emotionally. 

You’re not sure what to say. This is Suguru. Your closest friend as of recently, you work together. Though, you promised to quit your job for him, you think. 

Fuck it.

You smile, eyes bright and gleaming as your hands find his cheeks. 

“Thank you,” you say. And you mean it. “For loving me.” 

That’s all you can offer him right now. Your thanks, and a promise as you hold your pinky up to him again, face flushed and hair sticking to your forehead. 

“I’ll be your girl.” 

“Promise?” He looks at you with that familiar lopsided grin. 

“Mhmm. I promise.” 

Softly, you kiss the junction of your fingers. 

[kurogane2512]

Vautour Bleu Birthday 2025

18+ CONTENT

Game: Path to Nowhere

Characters: Vautour Bleu x fem!reader (Chief)

Type: Fluff and smut (long fic, Vautour's real name is used in some places, references to her backstory and event).

I know I'm late 😔 Sorry Vautour but belated happy birthday I love you so much 🥹

Vautour Bleu opened her eyes to the warm rays of the sun falling on her face, accompanied by the dusty wind of WhiteSands clouding her vision. The start of a new day meant many things, for her it was forging new deals and continuing her business no matter what day. She sat up on her bed and stretched her arms with a yawn, drowsiness slowly leaving her body as the scent of her favourite tea and pastry covered her nose. She smiled to herself looking at the neatly arranged tea set and pastry box on her table, along with a bunch of gift-wrapped boxes and packets arranged on the side. Of course, she knew what this meant. Today was that day, after all.

After freshening up, she made her way to the table and poured out the tea before taking a bite from the pastry. The delicate and intense sweet flavour filled her with a sense of joy like no other, her body relaxing to enjoy this brief moment of respite. She looked at the several boxes and packets, having no interest to really open and respond to them. It was going to be the same old things again. Her mind wandered to a distant memory of her past, familiar hazy faces occupying her sight as she recalled what she used to do on this day long ago with her loved ones. Her life was different now and those old pleasures were no more.

She stood up to glance at the gifts briefly, checking out the name cards and accompanying tags to find out their senders. Some officials from the Outland Affairs Agency, some old and regular clients, and others from acquaintances she had small dealings with but were always looking to gain more from her. The content of the gifts didn’t really matter to her. She appreciated them but knew their hidden intentions well- none of them were genuine. As her eyes glided over the boxes, she curiously looked to find something from a particular bureau, from a particular Chief, but found nothing.

“Heh, what am I expecting? This is a trivial matter to her....” she let out a sigh then took a huff from her pipe and let out a cloud of smoke gather her sight.

She then kept all her thoughts aside and went out to go about her day as the enigmatic Vautour Bleu, a shrewd and cunning merchant in the WhiteSands. By afternoon, she had already gone through several business meetings that left her drained and she planned to take a break when a letter arrived from MBCC. She perked up for a moment, becoming curious of the content. However, it was a simple letter reminding her of the meeting scheduled today along with the usual pleasantries.

Vautour shrugged and kept the letter away. By 3pm, it was time for her to head over to the bureau as promised. She boarded the vehicle arranged by you and arrived after 3 hours. She immediately headed to your office and found you waiting outside the door, looking at her with a gentle smile.

“How have you been, Vautour?” you asked.

“I’m well, thank you for asking. How about you? I trust my souvenirs reached you in one piece.”

“Yes, they were beautiful. I had them placed around the building.”

“Wonderful. So, what regulations do I need to abide by today?”

“Not much, you can head to the medical centre for a checkup then come back here to discuss what we agreed in the letters.”

Vautour nodded and was escorted to the medical room while you headed inside your office.

“Nightingale, tell everyone to be prepared. I’ll bring her in an hour.” You spoke in your earpiece.

“Noted, Chief.” Nightingale replied.

You watched Vautour enter the medical room in the surveillance camera then sat on your desk and waited for her to return. The checkup merely took 15 minutes and she was on her way back to your office. You were well prepared on the agendas you had to discuss with her and hoped it wouldn’t take too long; though, knowing her, it would certainly be done quickly and smoothly. Vautour sat in front of you soon after, leisurely leaning on the chair with one leg draped over the other and huffing from her pipe.

“Some desert bandits have been rather rowdy lately, attacking markets and caravans on the move. I can protect my caravan, but the atmosphere in WhiteSands is degrading day by day.” She commented while looking at a report.

“I see....” you couldn’t really assist in any manner when it came to situations like this.

Vautour continued the conversation, asking about the refuges she had sent your way. She was always more enthusiastic to know about Dèsir’s people, still keeping close tabs on them to ensure they were okay. She then gave you some intel on things you had asked her to investigate if possible, and she got you more useful information than you hoped for.

“Hah~ Is there anything more you’d like to discuss?” she remarked as you had finished discussing all the agendas. You looked at your tablet and noted the time then stood up with a smile.

“Would you come with me for a moment? There’s something I want to show you.”

Vautour raised an eyebrow then stood up, “Interesting.... What do you have in store, little Chief?~”

“I hope you’ll like it~”

Curiosity grew in her as she followed you, she didn’t know what to expect. You reached the cafeteria and stood outside the closed door before pressing your earpiece.

“We are here, Nightingale.”

“You can come in, Chief. We are ready.”

You turned around to look at Vautour with a smile then slowly opened the doors. Party poppers erupted as soon as you stepped in, accompanied with sounds of clapping. Vautour’s eyes widened for a moment when she looked at the scene in front of her- the cafeteria was decorated with balloons and frills and in front of her was a table having a familiar looking cake.

“Bon anniversaire, Vautour.” You wished and gestured to bring the cake closer, which Hecate did by pushing the table forward a few steps.

Vautour stared at the scene in silence, feeling quite surprised. The atmosphere and vibe were warm, comforting as she looked over the Sinners gathered around who came to celebrate for her. It reminded her of her past, the buried memories of the simpler days with her family. Yet, she donned her confident smile quickly and walked towards the cake before picking up the knife.

“Gâteau opéra? Oh my, you really know how to appeal to my tastes....” she said with a smile.

She then cut the cake as the Sinners around and you sang the birthday song for her. She couldn’t describe the joy and warmth she felt in her heart at this moment, still appearing composed to you all. Once the cake was cut, many of the Sinners, especially children, came forward to give gifts to her. She again felt overwhelmed receiving such wishes but remained calm and thanked each of them wholeheartedly, even kissing and patting their heads. Afterwards, you came forward carrying a bouquet consisting of an assortment of various flowers you had come to know she liked, the signature ones being datura.

“Happy birthday once again.” You wished while extending the bouquet. Vautour accepted with a smile and gazed at the flowers for a moment then looked at you.

“Mèrci, dear Chief. This was a wonderful surprise, how long ago did you plan this?”

“Ah, it’s our tradition for every Sinner. Either we make special arrangements if there are requests or we do this little celebration. It’s not much since our budget is tight, I tried to include things you like most.”

“I see.... I keep getting impressed by how attentive and caring you are towards us~”

You blushed, “It’s the least I can do. Still, if you have a particular wish then feel free to say. I’ll try to fulfil it as best as I can.”

Vautour smirked, “I’ll keep that in mind~”

When you were almost finished talking with her, Nightingale came to inform that dinner was served and you asked her to escort Vautour to the table.

“Well, shall we dine together? It’d be my pleasure to have you eat with me~” Vautour suggested.

“A-Ah, I’m sorry, I’d love to but there are some matters I have to attend to.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. I hope you can make it up to me some day then~”

“Of course, I promise. I trust you can manage here now, Adjutant?”

“Yes, Chief. You can rest easy.” Nightingale replied.

You took your leave with a smile and one last birthday greeting to Vautour. She gazed at you walk away and couldn’t felt but feel a certain attraction to you, also having some suspicions in her mind. She was not used to being shown such selfless appreciation as she had grown accustomed to dealing with everything in a business manner, always giving back n forth. She enjoyed the feast with everyone, letting herself be relaxed for the moment and relishing the celebration.

After the celebrations were over and she thanked everyone for the wishes, she came to your office to get some answers and clear her suspicions. While she knew you were genuine and different from others, she couldn’t help but feel there was more to this. Old habits die hard, after all. She reached your office door and was about to knock when she heard faint talking sounds from inside, she could make out there was only one voice which belonged to you and concluded you were talking on the phone.

She slightly opened the door and found you standing near the shelf, conversing on your earpiece while going through a file in your hand. She then knocked on the door and you turned around to see her standing at the doorway, seemingly waiting for you. You were about to hold your call when she gestured you to carry on and simply walked in to sit on the sofa, patiently waiting for you to get free. She huffed her pipe and gazed around the office, admiring the sophisticated and professional decorum. Her eyes fell upon certain paintings and statues she had sent you as souvenirs, smiling to herself knowing you placed them in good places.

“Yes, I will send a team to investigate the matter tomorrow. Tonight? I’m sorry but my Sinners also need rest; unless it’s very urgent, I won’t dispatch them at such an hour.” You firmly spoke on the call, making Vautour intrigued at the conversation.

“It is not about protocols; it is about their well-being and health. They are also human beings. If you have issues then I suggest contacting the Public Security Bureau instead.”

Vautour leaned forward and rested her head on her hand, occasionally taking huffs from her pipe.

“You can reach out to the 9th Agency if you want, my decision remains final. Have a good night.”

You finally cut the call with a sigh then turned around to face Vautour.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting. How was the party?”

“No worries, little Chief. The party was great, everything was to my tastes~”

You smiled, “Glad to hear that. Was there something you wanted to talk about right now?”

Vautour nodded and stood up, taking a few steps towards you.

“Something has been on my mind for a while, care to satisfy my inhibition?”

“Of course, what is it?”

You walked closer to her, standing beside the sofa.

“You said organizing such parties for the Sinners is a tradition and that you arrange things according to their likes.”

“Indeed, was something unsatisfactory in the party?”

Vautour gave a small smile, “No, everything was satisfactory. In fact....” she paused and came closer to you, “....too satisfactory.”

You blinked in confusion, “What do you mean....?”

She let out a chuckle then placed her hand on your chest, slyly rubbing it across.

“You said you have a tight budget yet were able to bring a 1-pound opera cake and other Eastside desserts I like, along with all the decorations and gifts the Sinners arranged which I’m sure were mostly paid for by you.... You know how expensive Eastside desserts are, don’t you?~”

“....W-We do have a tight budget but we can arrange this much. I planned out the things in advance to be able to fit in everything, what are you trying to imply?”

“Oh, don’t misunderstand me. I appreciate you doing all this, my suspicions are different. It’s not about how you arranged it, but it’s a matter of.... ‘why’~”

You couldn’t understand what she was getting at, feeling conflicted over her words.

“I.... I still don’t get it. I told you it’s just our tradition for everyone....”

Vautour narrowed her eyes, “Let me get to the point then. What is it that you are trying to get from me by doing this?”

Your eyes widened in surprise, “What? Why would you think that....?”

She let out a small laugh, “It is a simple matter, Chief. I appreciate your efforts, but I believe you wish to gain something from me through this. Perhaps, something highly important that you couldn’t ask through normal methods. Am I wrong?”

You furrowed your brows, almost feeling offended at her assumption.

“I wouldn’t do things like this to gain favours, Vautour. What I told you is the absolute truth. You are my Sinner and I will treat you like everyone else. Everyone who gave you gifts and helped in arrangements did it with genuine intentions because they like you and enjoy your company, I did not force anyone. It was an expression of our well-wishes and I’d appreciate it if you don’t jump to such conclusions and undermine their efforts.”

Vautour was a little surprised by your serious and firm reply, realizing she seemingly made you upset. A gentle smile drew on her lips then with a simple push, she made you sit on the sofa and straddled your lap before you could react.

“Is that so? Hehe, seems I offended you by that. I didn’t mean to undermine their efforts, I was simply questioning your intentions....” she slowly cupped your face, “An expression of your well-wishes, you say? Mèrci, I appreciate it. Don’t mind it so much, just a habit of mine to interpret it this way~”

You let out a sigh of relief, “You made me really anxious for a moment there....”

She softly chuckled and wrapped her arms around your neck, gazing at you with a smile. You became nervous and blushed a little then cleared your throat to speak.

“To make such interpretations.... I guess you receive ‘gifts’ in this form a lot.”

She twirled your hair around her fingers, teasingly playing with them.

“Indeed, I cannot say when was the last time I received something so genuine with no ill-intentions or favours aligned.”

You looked at her with a sympathetic look, feeling sad at her words.

“On that note.... do you mind if I ask for something more?”

Her question caught you off-guard, but you were more than willing to accept.

“Sure, anything. There are no obligations between us.”

She smiled more then suddenly pushed you further on the sofa, making you lie on your back. She climbed on top of you and pressed her body to yours, keeping you in place with her weight.

“That wish you spoke about, shall I ask for it now?~”

Your face turned redder at her implication. Her left hand cupped your face and traced a finger along your jaw, smirking at your flustered expression.

“....What do you wish for?”

She leaned slightly closer, “If you satisfy a lady’s heart well enough, she begins to burn for something more..... tangible~”

You could feel Vautour’s breath brush your lips, your eyes fixated on her beautiful face that you’d never seen so close from before. Her words only made you more flustered, your heart racing faster at the situation. Your hands slowly wrapped around her waist, gently holding her.

“So, dear Chief, I wish for.... you. Just for tonight, be mine~” she whispered in a soft hushed tone.

Your lips trembled as you contemplated her words, “Is that all? You can ask for something.... better.”

Vautour chuckled and drew closer, her lips lingering over yours.

“You already gave me everything else. Besides, what makes you think you aren’t the best option I have ever come across, little Chief?~”

You blushed and thought for a moment before nodding with a smile, “Does that mean you’ll be mine as well?~”

Vautour raised an eyebrow in amusement, “Well, a deal works both ways. Although, I’m already quite bound to you as your Sinner~”

“You know that’s different.”

Vautour chuckled, “Indeed.... Then, we have a deal~”

You gazed into each other’s eyes, feeling captivated by her deep blue eyes and the sight of her above you this way. She leaned even closer and finally placed her lips on yours, gently moving them together. Her hand slowly slid up your wrist and traced circles on your palm, her luscious hair cascading over you. She could feel your heartbeat reverb this way, your fingers fidgeting as she teased them with her own.

Her free hand cupped your face and tilted it as she kissed deeper, pulling on your upper lip before grabbing onto your lower one and sucking it. Restrained breaths and small moans resounded between you both, then she moved her lips lower to kiss your chin before pulling back completely. You gazed at each other with uneven breaths, you knew your face was flushed red by now while Vautour looked same as before, except for her smudged lipstick.

“Hmm, a rich taste.... akin to a mille-feuille. I must admit, I do miss having you as my cute little neighbour, the way you used to have your eyes on me all the time, watching my every action was..... adorable~” she husked with a smirk, caressing your cheek and her thumb tracing your lower lip.

“Shall I show you how we kiss in my hometown? I’d love to see your reaction~”

With a gentle pull, she parted your lips and stuck out her tongue while approaching you. You braced yourself as her tongue entered your mouth and lips enveloped yours, kissing you deeply and passionately. The sensation was wildly different from a normal kiss, her tongue explored every corner of your mouth as if searching for a lost relic, to relish in your sweet taste before dancing with yours.

You couldn’t help but moan into her, surprised by the way your tongues rolled together. Your heart raced faster than ever; eyes open wide before becoming hooded due to the hypnotizing sensation of the kiss. Vautour’s eyes remained closed, her movements slow and effortless as if she was used to this, but you didn’t miss the way her hand tightened in your hold and the slight shift of her body to come even deeper.

“Haah.... V-Vautour.... mmh~” your words came out in a muffle, making her open her eyes slightly then becoming narrowed with a mischievous glint.

“Hehe, and you said I should ask for something better? Oh, ma chèrie, having you in this state is a treat itself~”

She was about to kiss you again when you suddenly tightened your hold around her and sat up, making her sit on your lap with her arms locked around your neck.

“Oh my, what’s the hurry? We have all night, don’t we?~”

You smirked then slightly pulled her closer, “Yes, but I had something else in mind.”

She once again became curious and stroked your cheek, “Do enlighten me~”

You slowly dragged your hands up her back, tracing her curves.

“Let me service you tonight, if you don’t mind.”

Vautour couldn’t help but feel surprised, silently pondering for a moment.

“You are really unique, little Chief. Saying such bold words to me.... are you sure you can meet my expectations?~”

You smiled, “You chose me for a reason, didn’t you? Perhaps I’ll even surpass your expectations~”

Her lips curled up in a smirk, “Very well. I’ll look forward to it, little Chief~”

You nodded, “Let’s go to my room.”

Vautour agreed and stood up from you, fixing her dress while you packed up the things on your desk before moving out together. You had barely walked a few steps outside of your office when an idea occurred to you and you stopped her in her tracks then stood beside her.

“What do you have in mind, de-”

Before she could complete her sentence; you placed one arm around her back, careful not to pull her hair, and the other behind her knees then effortlessly picked her up, holding her in your arms bridal style. Of so many things she was prepared for, she didn’t anticipate this and simply stared at you in silence as your faces remained close. She regained her composure quickly afterwards, lazily wrapping her arms around your neck and smirking.

“Oh my, aren’t you charming?~”

You smiled, “Just want to make you feel special.”

The sincerity in your words and the expression on your face surprised her, yet she kept up her calm demeanour. You walked to your room while carrying her the entire way, she simply remained motionless and couldn’t take her eyes off of you. You soon entered your room and kicked it close then were about to place her on the bed when she cupped your face and kissed you, enrapturing your lips with hers. It started as a slow kiss but you were soon devouring each other, tongues mingling and breathy moans exchanging. You walked to the bed this way and sat down on the edge while keeping her in your lap, your bodies pressed closely and continuing to kiss.

Vautour stood up on her knees slightly and deepened the kiss, one hand wrapping around your neck and clenching your collar from the back while the other gripped your shoulder. Her tongue soon slipped in and flicked yours, kissing you with passion. Your hands slowly caressed her curves, tracing the sides with your fingertips. You slid your hands towards her ankles this way and slyly removed her heels, making her smirk against your lips for a brief moment then kissing you again. She then sat down on your lap, completely putting her weight on you.

You placed your hands around her back now; sensually caressing her bare skin underneath the coat, tracing her shoulder blades and the curve of her spine before settling upon her hips. You gave them a gentle squeeze, earning a low moan from her. She pulled back abruptly, biting your lower lip with her eyes hooded and gazing into yours. She was about to say something, perhaps to tease you, but you took her by surprise when you tightened your grip around her and swiftly spun to make her lie down on the bed. Her back hit the mattress with a soft thud, shielded by your hands securely.

“Oh-?! So, you have this assertive side in you, little Chief?~” of course, she still had the mettle to tease you.

You simply smiled and lowered yourself closer to her, “Be glad it’s just assertive, Vautour. You don’t want to see me lose control.”

Vautour raised her eyebrow before extending her arm to cup your face, stroking your cheek with her fingers.

“Perhaps I do? You should let the beast unleash once in a while, dear Chief~”

You chuckled and lightly gripped her held out hand, “I’ll show you some other day. For now....” you paused then pulled her hand away and pinned it down with your own, applying minimal pressure to keep it in place, “....Just rest back and let me love you, okay?~”

Hearing the word ‘love’ sent butterflies in her stomach. Despite your assertive actions, she still felt gentleness in your touch and didn’t move away. In a similar way, you dragged her other hand to the side and pinned it by her wrist too, holding her open for yourself. You gazed at her this way, her shining fluffy hair sprawled over and the subtle rise of her chest as she breathed slightly faster than normal. You lowered yourself further and pressed your lips to her neck, planting tender kisses on her skin.

She sucked in a breath feeling your lips travel around her neck, her eyes hooding at the sensation and breathing becoming faster. Your kisses were soft and delicate, akin to kissing a lover. When you asked to service her tonight, she didn’t think you’d be this gentle and caring. The touch was feather-light, yet sent electrifying sensations in her body. She felt your hands that were pinning her wrists slowly slide up to her palms now before intertwining your fingers in a gentle grip. She could break away anytime, yet the comforting feeling made her stay.

You moved to kiss her other side in a similar manner now, keeping track of her reactions. She was strangely quiet, simply letting out deep breaths. Her own fingers now slowly closed on yours, giving you enough indication that she liked what you were doing. You occasionally licked at some spots and moved lower to her chest, kissing on the exposed part of her breasts. You could feel her body arch for a moment when you kissed between her breasts, but she refrained from giving any more reaction.

Vautour couldn’t describe the sensation she was feeling, her hazy vision glued to the ceiling. Why did such soft touches feel so good to her? Was she really seeing you as her lover at this moment? If she was, then she was going to let it continue for tonight. She pulled her left hand out of your grip rather easily and wrapped it around your head, lacing her fingers through your hair and pressing you further close. She let out a hum when you caressed her breasts, gently fondling them over her dress.

You then released her other hand and moved further down her body, kissing over her clothed belly and abdomen then sitting up between her legs. She anticipated what you’d do, yet you surprised her once again with your next action. You shifted back more and started caressing her feet, sensually rubbing her ankles and calves before placing kisses on her legs. She almost pulled back out of reflex but kept her composure and watched you, eager to see how you’d service her. You kissed up till her knees, her breath almost flinching at the tickling yet loving sensations.

Each touch of your lips on her skin sent shivers in her body, but she continued keeping her unfazed expression and silently watched with a smirk. She watched as you moved past her knees, her fingers clenching the mattress expecting something but you stopped when you reached the hem of her dress and sat up with a smile. She almost felt dumbfounded, betrayed even. Her body heaved with long breaths now, feeling pleasure build up inside her despite such simple touches.

“May I undress you?”

You asked with utmost sincerity, your tone laced with care. She nodded and sat up to let you remove her blue coat followed by the collar. You were about to slide down the straps of her dress when she instead pulled you closer by your collar and started unbuttoning your shirt, smirking to herself.

“Don’t expect to have all the fun, ma chèrie~” she whispered against your lips.

You smirked back and let her remove your shirt then pulling off your undershirt, leaving just your bra on. Before you could do anything else, she pulled you along with her as she laid back down and embraced you in her arms. You let out a yelp of surprise then were silenced as she kissed you passionately, her hands roaming on your back then pressing down, nails clenching your skin. You groaned into the kiss then pulled away with a sigh, gazing at her while panting. Once again, you placed your hands on her dress straps and began sliding them down.

Vautour laid still as her body came into view, simply arching up when you reached down. Her beautiful breasts enthralled you, subconsciously licking your lips at the sight. Soon, you finally pulled off her dress and only left her underwear on. You leaned down to kiss all over her belly then moved up to breasts, capturing them in your palms and gently kneading them. She hummed in pleasure as you moulded them, pressing and squeezing in between.

She bit her lower lip when you attached your mouth to one nipple. She felt your tongue flick over the nub while your lips sucked on it, your hand twirling and pressing her other nipple. She arched up a little when you pinched her nipple with your fingers, followed by grazing your teeth over the one in your mouth. Her hands once again wrapped around your head, tugging your hair strands with her fingers.

“Oh, little Chief, how adorable you look....” she spoke in a breathy tone.

You sucked her breasts more, swirling your tongue around and pulling before releasing with a pop. She whined softly, then watched you go lower until her naval. Your hands grasped the waistband of her panties, your eyes met hers for a moment before sliding them off as well and bringing her complete naked body to view. She looked no less than a model, perhaps even better, like a Goddess. Her soft and fair skin was perfect to the touch, completely unblemished in every crevice. You caressed her inner thighs and gazed at her core, throbbing slightly in front of you. The sight was marvellous, you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

“Rendered speechless already, little Chief? I believe you must have seen this sight many times~”

“No matter how many times, it’s always beautiful~”

Vautour scoffed teasingly, “Why don’t you put that tongue to better use, ma chèrie?~”

“Well....” you placed your arms under her thighs and raised her body slightly, “Be prepared then~”

You lowered between her thighs and gave a small, teasing lick to her clit. She didn’t give a verbal response, but you didn’t miss the slight shake of her legs. You continued further, now licking up long and slow strips across her folds and clit, and your hands gently caressing her inner thighs simultaneously. She barely reacted most of the time, simply taking in deep breaths. You then went faster, licking up her slit before pulling it open and inserting your tongue inside. Her hips bucked in surprise and a breathy moan left her throat before being concealed by her own hand as she bit down on her finger.

You smirked to yourself and realized what she was trying to do, she was reluctant to give in to you and submit. You had the patience to make her lose her mind, you could do it for as long as it took. You pushed your tongue deeper, parting her spongy walls and lapping up her sensitive spots. Your nose bumped against her clit as you increased your pace, lapping her walls faster and more intensely. Her thighs enclosed around your head in response, essentially capturing your face in between and making it harder to move. You tried to look up to see her face but were instead pushed down as she placed her hand on your head and pressed you in further.

You applied some force to spread her legs, but she was adamant in locking your head in. You decided to give up for now and focus on pleasuring her, you could see her face drowned in ecstasy anytime later. With a faster lick and suck, you slurped up her folds drawing out her essence and chasing her release. Your fingers rubbed her clit occasionally, pinching and squeezing right in time with your tongue motions. You could feel her walls tighten around you, and her thighs also closing in further, indicating how close she was. Yet, in all this time, you barely heard any proper moans from her. Vautour’s face was turned to the side, her eyes hooded and body rising with your ministrations. She still covered her mouth and only moaned through deep breaths, her voice coming out restrained and muffled.

“Hn.... C-Chief.....~”

The only time she moaned your name; it was music to your ears. You gave her hips a little push and folded her knees, making her legs rest on your shoulders as you pushed your tongue inside her the deepest possible. Her hand that was placed on top of your head now tugged your hair and pushed your head further down, her body lightly rutting against your held out tongue. Her body arched as she approached her release, her free hand clenched her sheet and she bit down her lower lip. Then, an explosive release washed over her when you stroked her sensitive spot, making her cum on your mouth.

“Aaah.... hah....” she panted out as she came, feeling your tongue religiously lap up her essence like a starved wolf.

Her taste was sickly sweet as you had anticipated, just like all the desserts she loved. You cleaned her up before sitting, licking your lips in a hazy state of mind and relishing her taste. You finally looked at Vautour and found her taking in deep breaths, her fluffy hair covering her face and her body heaving. Still, you missed the look of when she’d came. It seemed as if she was intentionally preventing you from seeing her vulnerable state.

“Are you okay, Vautour?” you asked in a concerned voice and crawled forward then swiped away her hair and cupped her face.

“Yes.... mmh.... that was good.....” she answered in between sighs.

You gazed at her dishevelled state, her messy hair scattered around, sweat glazing her fair skin and her lipstick smudged- everything was perfect and you felt lost in her beauty, even feeling flustered at having made her this way. Vautour placed her hand on your held out one, gently grasping it and looking back into your eyes with a deep emotion bubbling inside her. She leaned into your palm a little, cradling her face and you couldn’t help but lean down to kiss her.

“Say, little Chief....” she husked and placed her other hand on your shoulder then traced a finger down your chest, “.....You have been meeting my needs so well, I assume you have something more to offer?~”

Your face flushed more, realizing her implication.

“O-Of course, if you are not satisfied then I will continue....”

Vautour smiled and slid her finger further down, “Do you happen to have something a little.... intense? Something that feels different?~”

Your mind racked for a moment to ponder what she meant then finally understood.

“Uh, I do have some toys, including a strap-on..... Are you okay with that?” you asked shyly.

Vautour seemed amused and let out a chuckle, “Oh my, quite well-prepared you are to please a woman. I wonder, have there been more affairs of this sort in here, my naughty Chief?~”

You averted your gaze shyly, unable to respond to her. You then stood up from the bed and walked towards your cupboard to fetch the strap-on, she sat up and watched you with intrigue while taking a huff from her pipe. Her mind thought back to the recent happenings, your touch lingering on her skin and the strange feelings she felt. She didn’t know why her heart was beating this way, it wasn’t the rush from just having an orgasm but it was something far deeper. She expected to treat this as a casual affair, just to have a little fun on her birthday. Yet, here she found herself experiencing intimacy like never before.

The wisps of smoke from her pipe clouded her vision as she pondered further back, going down her memory lane. At some point, she used to dream of such simple things. To be able to live with her loved ones while doing painting, gardening and enjoying desserts. Yet, her dream was shattered long ago and buried in the depths of WhiteSands with her loved ones. She may have decided to protect the dreams of others instead of shattering them like her own, even if it meant deceiving them forever. But after meeting you, she wondered if she could have those dreams again, and if you would fulfil them for her.

“Vautour.”

Your voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she looked to see you standing nearby, holding the tool in your hand.

“This is what I have, is it okay?”

Vautour kept aside her pipe again and stood up with a smirk while glancing at the object, “Hmm, not bad. It’s sufficiently sized.”

“Uh, I also have some lube so I’ll put that. Let me just wear this....”

You turned to face away from her and were about to fasten the strap when Vautour turned you around again and gripped your shoulders.

“Let me help you, ma chèrie~”

She whispered and brought her hands to unbutton your pants, followed by zipping down the flyer. You blushed as she opened your pants and you kicked them away then she helped fasten the strap around your waist. She looked at the tool intently, holding back a giggle watching you wear something so daunting. You were then about to make her lie back again but she instead pushed you down on the bed first, looking at you with a smirk and coming close to climb on top.

You understood what she wanted and made no arguments. You shifted back on the bed to give her space and watched her crawl to straddle you, standing on her knees with the tip of the cock resting on her belly. The sight was breathtaking for you, just having her sit on your lap this way sent butterflies in your stomach. Vautour grasped the cock and rubbed it a bit, feeling the material and size. She then came forward and grinded her clit across the length, humming at the pleasurable friction.

“U-Uh, let’s put the lube. It could pain you otherwise....”

You picked up the bottle from the side table and sat up slightly to pour it over the toy, but Vautour stopped your arm midway and made you keep it back.

“No need, I’ll do it myself~”

“But-“

“Shh~” she placed her finger on your lips, shushing you.

Soon after, she stood up more and pointed the cock to her slit. You could see she was considerably wet, but were still worried about putting it in. She, meanwhile, seemed unbothered and started pushing the length inside while sitting down on it. You gripped her thighs and helped her ease on it; a hiss left her lips as the toy penetrated her, pushing past her tight walls. You expected to go slow but she suddenly sat down with a single push, taking it all the way in. A throaty moan resounded in your ear when she sat down, taking in the sight of her in this position.

“V-Vautour, you shouldn’t have put it in so fast....!” you said in a worried tone, keeping your hands on her waist.

She smiled and dragged her hands to your shoulders, gripping them tightly.

“Don’t treat me as someone so fragile, little Chief. I have been surviving the unforgiving WhiteSands every single day for the past decade~”

“It’s not that. I just—"

“Shush now. Let me enjoy this~”

She smirked and pushed you back more, making you lie down flat. She then started grinding back n forth on the length, accommodating the stretch and lubing up the toy with her juices. You remained still and watched her in silence as she wanted, letting her as she pleased. It was a treat just getting to watch her this way. Her expression remained fairly unchanged, holding the smirk on her lips as she started rising up and down the cock. The penetration soon felt pleasurable, enjoying the way it scrapped against her walls.

Her movements were precise, pushing herself in and out at just the right angles and speed. Her hips rocked backward as she rode you, her waist coiling forward into your skin and making her appear almost akin to a cat on prowl. Searing hot pleasure coursed through her body and tightened fingertips by which she held you, the little Chief who had given her so much love. She ground down as she sought you deeper, your name cradled atop her tongue. Through half-lidded eyes, you watched her, and emotions danced between you like flames. You were smitten, finding her unbelievably beautiful.

Vautour gazed down at you as well, noting your fascinated expression and how you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. She too felt enthralled by you, looking down to see how she was pleasuring herself on your lap so openly. The deep and intense emotions came back in her, and so did her mind conjure up some memories again. She placed her hands on your stomach and leaned forward while continuing to grind, and a surprising statement left her lips before she knew it.

“Happy to take my first time, dear Chief?~”

Your eyes widened in surprise, taking a moment to understand her words.

“First time? Wait, you mean....?!”

Vautour chuckled at your shocked expression, “Oh, how adorable you look. So, it seems you assumed I was experienced. Shall I say I’m a little offended or impressed?~”

You immediately sat up and kept your hands around her waist, stopping her from moving more.

“N-No, I.... I’m sorry about that..... for assuming that.... Actually, it’s my fault. I should have asked you before we began....”

She wrapped her arms around your neck, “And, what would you have done if you knew from the start? Treated me as delicately as possible?~”

“W-Well, I’d certainly be more considerate....”

She gazed into your eyes, knowing the sincerity and respect you showed.

“Are you okay right now? We can stop if it feels uncomfortable any- mmph~”

She pressed her lips on yours and prevented you from speaking further, then started rising up and down on the cock. She moaned into the kiss before letting go with a gasp and pulled your face near the crook of her neck, lacing her right hand in your hair while the left clenched on your back.

“You have already made this experience very comfortable and memorable for me. I’m glad I chose you for this.”

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, an urge bubbling in you to make her yours. Well, she was indeed yours for tonight. Now, you felt like owning up to her expectations even more. You wrapped your arms around her and suddenly thrusted your hips up, hitting a spot deep inside her and making her arch with a loud moan. Her fingers dug in your back, painted nails scratching your skin. You kept up the pace and thrusted into her as she bounced, making a pleasurable rhythm that hit all the right spots for her. She was moaning more than before, even if still restrained.

You tried to move your head up to look at her pleasured face, you wanted to etch the sight in your memory. Yet, once again, she tightly held you and kept you down, preventing you from seeing up. You were buried in the crook of her neck, her breasts almost smothering you from the tight grip she had on you. Her fingers intertwined and pulled your hair strands lightly as she threw her head back and continued riding you. You licked up her exposed neck and kissed on several spots, even biting down to mark her fair skin.

“Ngh.... Chief.... Aaahn~”

You could tell she was close as she was bouncing harder than before from her walls clenching around the length. Your hands squeezed her hips as you pulled her closer, rutting into her to make the cock hit more spots. Just then, you felt lost in the moment and muttered something unexpected.

“....Madeleine, you are so beautiful....”

Her movements halted for a second, her cloudy vision suddenly opening wide. You breathed against her skin and planted several kisses on every spot you could access and continued moving your hips into her. She would have found anyone unruly for using her real name without permission, yet hearing it from you felt serene. It was as if she was craving for it, longing to hear it from you.

“Do you.... mind if I call you that?” you asked. She smiled to herself and placed a kiss on your forehead before caressing your head.

“No.... mmh.... just say it only when we are alone.... aaahn~”

“As you wish~”

You moved your lips all over her neck and chest as she resumed bouncing before stopping to simply hold her. Her legs wrapped around your waist now, giving you the reigns to make some final pushes. You placed your hand on her back and swiftly thrusted into her, making her arch into you. Her head fell back as you angled the cock deeper inside, grazing just the perfect spots she wanted. She bit her lower lip as she edged closer to release. You embraced her again and for a moment, she gave in to you.

She fell limp in your arms as she finally released, drenching the toy with her essence. Her body convulsed as she moaned the loudest tonight. You missed seeing her expression once again, but you weren’t as disappointed as before. You held her in your arms as she came down from her high, intensely panting and her arms tightly wrapped around you as well. She lightly kissed your forehead then held you with content as well, relishing the moment.

“....More~” she suddenly mumbled and you looked at her in surprise, while she simply smirked and joined your foreheads together.

“More....? Madeleine, why did I not know you are insatiable....”

“Why, I want to make the most this time, of course. You are mine for tonight, you should know I have high expectations for that~”

You let out a sigh then suddenly spun around to place her on the bed, rubbing the drenched toy over her slit while gazing at her.

“I wasn’t going to deny you anyways. Are you sure you don’t want to take a break even?”

She extended her arms to wrap them around your neck and pulled you down, your lips ghosting hers.

“Time is precious to a merchant, ma chèrie. We have made a deal, let’s not waste time with unnecessary matters~”

You had no reason to deny her if she was so eager. Throughout the night, you gave her all the love and pleasure you could, treating her no less than a lover. Although, you still weren’t able to see her ecstatic face anytime. Each time you attempted to look, she’d be one step ahead of you and do something to hide your eyes. You wondered if she was insecure about something, or just didn’t like having herself being seen that way. Still, you hoped some day you’d get to witness the sight.

There was no sunlight or the dusty wind of WhiteSands that woke up Madeleine the next morning. She woke up by her own body clock, used to starting the day early. Her eyes fell upon the artificial lighting on the ceiling which somehow felt warmed than the natural sun she was used to feeling every day. Perhaps, it was due to the loving presence beside her. She moved her gaze to the side and looked at you peacefully sleeping, a gentle smile drawing up her lips.

She turned on her side and extended her hand to lightly stroke your hair and tuck some strands behind your ear. She recalled the memories of last night, knowing that the precious time was up. If she could have that again, she would never end it. She still didn’t have a name for the feelings you gave her, for the emotions you surged in her. But she was grateful for the unforgettable memory.

She leisurely sat up and stretched her arms with a sigh, missing the scent of her regularly morning tea and dessert. Just then, she felt the mattress on your side move and realized you had woken up as well. She watched as you rubbed your eyes before opening them, only to see her face gazing at you as she laid on her side propped up on her elbow.

“Good morning, Madeleine....” you said with a yawn and turned towards her with a smile.

“Good morning, dear Chief. Had a good sleep?~”

“Mhm, it was fine. How about you? Does it pain anywhere?”

“I’m fine, ma chèrie....” she extended her other hand and cupped your face, “You were perfect last night~”

You blushed at her words then sat up while stretching your arms before looking at the clock.

“Ah, it’s still early. No wonder I didn’t hear my alarm.”

You scratched the top of your head then suddenly heard a giggle from Madeleine, becoming confused at what she was laughing at.

“Reminds me of your first morning in Dèsir when we were talking across the balcony....” she sat up and extended her hand towards your head and gently caressed some strands that were messily sticking out, “Hehe, how cute~”

You blushed in embarrassment and quickly fixed up your unruly hair while she chuckled more.

“I’m surprised you remember those little things from then....”

Madeleine hummed, “Hmm, don’t you as well? Sometimes I can’t help but feel you miss the time when we were neighbours~”

“....I do miss it. It was strangely.... comforting, or I suppose that was just Dèsir’s atmosphere.”

She tilted her head with a sigh, “Indeed.... it was a paradise.”

You looked at the way her eyes stared into distance, seemingly pondering something deep. You extended your hand to hold hers then leaned forward to kiss the top of it, catching her by surprise.

“We can still have that here, if you allow me to show you.”

Her eyes widened before she gave a smile and came forward to peck your lips, “I look forward to it, little Chief~”

If she had met you earlier, perhaps her dreams would have come true. But it didn't matter anymore, she was happy with what she had and the memories you gave her, and she hoped to make such more memories with you.

[teddy06writes]

Whumptober Day 2 - Darry Curtis

Darrel 'Darry' Curtis x gn!reader

Prompt: Migraines

Trigger Warnings: None

Summary: Juggling a migraine and the Curtis gang is not the easiest thing in the world. Luckily, Darry is there to come to your rescue and tell the others off

The screen door crashed shut with a slam that seemed to shake the house. The pain in your temples flared, and you had to pause in your dinner prep, leaning against the counter and squeezing your eyes shut for a long moment.

Steve's whiny voice joined the din of the living room, complaining loudly of an empty stomach. Swallowing thickly, you peeled your eyes open, squinting in the harsh kitchen light.

If you could just finish up and get this damn roasting pan in the oven, you'd be able to go sit down in the dark somewhere, and nurse this god awful headache, even only for a little while.

An hour ago you'd been half asleep on your bed, with an ice pack pressed firmly against your head, trying to fight a growing headache. But when Darry had called you from work, saying he was going to have to stay a bit later than normal, what could you do but offer to help out by making dinner for the gang.

"(Y/n)!" Steve's voice was suddenly ten times closer, and you turned to find him standing in the doorway of the kitchen, "What's for dinner?"

"Pot roast." You said in a clipped voice, ignoring the way that his nose wrinkled in respinse.

"'s it almost ready?"

It should be done in-" You glanced over at the clock, desperately ignoring the pain behind your eyes, "An hour- ish."

"Seriously?" Dallas groaned from where he was balanced on the arm of the couch.

"Yes. Seriously." You grit out.

Reluctantly, Steve shuffled away, and you rushed through finishing up, practically throwing the pan into the oven, and grabbing the egg timer from the counter.

On your quick retreat from the kitchen, you tossed the timer to Soda, instructing, "When that goes off, take the pan out of the oven, would you?"

You didn't wait for a reply, heading off down the hallway in the hopes of finding respite in the darkness of Darry's room.

The dim light was an instant relief, and you all but collapsed onto his bed, toeing off your shoes almost as an afterthought. The closed door did some to muffle the incessant noise from the living room, but you could still hear the occasional exclamation.

The pounding in your head droned on, despite that. With a groan, you began to massage at your temples, trying to shut out the noises from down the hall.

You weren't sure how much time had gone by when you heard the front door open and close again, this time much gentler than Steve's slamming. The chatter dulled from a quiet roar to a murmur. and back again, and then there were footsteps coming down the hall, and the door to Darry's room squeaking open.

The other side of the bed dipped, and Darry's hand was gently carding through your hair, "You alright sweetheart?"

"Migraine," You mumbled, rolling to face him, "Dinners in the oven- gave Soda the timer..."

His hand kept up that same rhythm, massaging at your head, "Mhhhm. Did you take anything?"

"No... It should be done any minute now..."

"Don't you go worryin over that now," Darry leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple, "I'll be right back, sweetheart."

You felt him shift off the bed, and disappear back into the hall. Almost immediately, the boys out in the living room quieted down. A few minutes later, Darry returned, sitting beside you once more.

"Brought you some advil, hun."

You sat up, wincing at the renewed pounding at your temples, and took the pills gratefully.

"You wanna brave dinner, or?"

You sunk back down onto the mattress, shaking your head, "I think I need to sleep this one off, Dar."

"Alright, sweetheart." He settled down beside you, beginning to massage at your temples again.

"Dar, what are you doing? Go eat." You peeled your eyes open to look up at him.

He smiled down at you, "Nah, I'd rather stay here with you for a while, hun."

[inqilabi]

Maria Bibi's case has been haunting me. Her brother and father raped her. She was pregnant and had started to go around and tell everyone what was happening to her. So her brother strangled her on a charpai. Then once he was done, the father handed him a glass of water. As if to give him respite for a tough job. And this was filmed by another brother, and the video went around and enraged people.

My dad grew up around the area where this girl's father and brother are from.

And I have directly seen this kind of disregard for women's life while growing up. The sad part is that I was exposed to it enough to know exactly what it feels like - as in, I know the exact the mindset of these men. Somehow through direct exposure and experience, you get the ability to not just be on the receiving end but also have an insight into exactly how their mind operates and what they're thinking. I think that's precisely what made me so sensitive to even mild misogyny in men's behaviour which I started posting about a decade ago on here. It was to the point where I was even analyzing men's approaches to fictional female characters. Word choices etc etc like really minute details.

Misogyny that you see in village areas and small towns is the most raw. I feel in urban centers of these countries, as well as in the west as a whole, it's definitely coated in some sugar. But backhome in the villages, they literally do not think of you as a person. You are subhuman and you definitely feel this as a woman. You are less than the cattle. You are sold and traded by your fathers and brothers. At best, there are waiting for you to be of marriageable age to hand you off to someone else. I've seen women beaten and dragged by the hair. Like the hate that I've seen men have towards women is so vitriolic. One time, when I was a teen - I was at a wedding doing a little dance, being happy. And I could see the rage in this young man's eye who was a wedding guest. It was almost like - how dare she have fun. Why is she not existing as a thing. The dance, me being happy and joyful took something away from his and vision of me as a girl. It did two things I think 1) I was alive and not a thing. He wanted me to be a quiet docile thing, an item, just sitting in a corner, not a person 2) it showed him that I didn't exist for his pleasure. I was doing things for my own pleasure, my own will. He even made a comment to me in Urdu. And it made me sad and killed my spirit. And I could see how happy he was to see the joy go. Having been the one to make that joy disappear.

I don't think you see things like that in the west on the regular. But certain parts of backhome it's an everyday occurence

[snailmail444]

Alex x Reader 🙈

All Tied Up

18+ 💚 NSFW 💚 MDNI

Alex x Reader

It’s the way I have been absolutely possessed the past few days. I’ve been in a huge writing slump but then the new year hit and my brain just. Decided to function? We’re riding the wave folks we’ll see how long it keeps up lol.

ANYWAY! Enjoy the third fulfilled ask in a week. I hope y’all aren’t sick of me yet lmao. NSFW under the cut and remember MDNI

“Are you sure you can’t break these?” You ask, pulling at one of the knots binding Alex to your bed.

Alex stares up at you, all big green eyes and still-confident smirk. “Even I can’t do that. I’ll prove it. But you don’t have to worry baby. It’s no sweat, I can behave.”

He flexes and you watch the veins in his arms protrude as he turns his wrists this way and that, trying and failing to find any give in your handiwork. A flush burns down your face, and your throat feels dry as you eye him up and down—large and muscular and completely at your mercy.

You would have never thought that Alex and his body builder physique would be in such a submissive position. Naked, spread eagle and tied to your bedposts, muscles taught and cock flushed. Laid out for you to devour however you please.

You run your palms up his chest, and his skin is hot against yours, smooth and solid as you work your way up. His pounding heart startles you, feeling how fast and hard it’s beating in his chest. For a minute you stall, feeling the strong rhythmic thump, and almost ask if he’s alright.

Almost, except you can see the way his cock twitches and precome beads at the tip just from your idle touches. You haven’t so much as breathed on it, yet it’s straining so hard already it’s obvious his heart rate isn’t due to nerves.

You straddle him, fighting your cocky smile away, and purposefully maintain eye contact as you suck one of his nipples. Alex instantly forgets his restraints, jerking an arm and making the bed-frame rattle. He was right—the knots aren’t going anywhere.

He pants out a heavy breath, and you hide your delight as you lavish attention on his other nipple. You won’t tease him for too long. Not this first time, anyway.

You push your hips back as you skim your teeth along his shoulder, making sure to rub it in that you can touch as much as you want by stroking up his ribcage, down his sides, along his arms.

Only a little more teasing, you think as you glide your wet cunt across his cock, pretending to have trouble guiding it in as you squeeze it’s base and coat it in your arousal.

“Ahh, please,” he whines, hips bucking as much as the pitiful give in his binds allow, “baby I can’t.”

“What happened Alex? It was no sweat what, two minutes ago? Not even?”

He opens his mouth to respond, and you stop him by sinking all the way down on his cock. His hands strain, and you can tell by the way he’s flushing and tossing his face to the side he’d be hiding in his hands to mute the stuttering moan that falls past his lips.

You don’t give him a moment of respite, electing to ride hard and fast. Without the use of his hands Alex can’t modulate your pace. Typically he’d slow you down, keep you steady, but now you’re allowed the free rein to completely ruin him.

“Ah, w-wait,” he huffs, hips twitching and grinding like he might be able to make you listen to him without using his safe word.

It’s too bad you aren’t in a listening mood.

He can’t take it for too long, biting his lip and breathing in stuttering gasps while he tries to stave off his orgasm.

“Ba-aby, I—“ Alex’s voice cracks, “I’m not gonna—hah—I’m really—“

Either he can’t hold himself off anymore, or he realizes you’re not going to listen, because Alex’s babbling ceases as his back arches and he comes with a whine, his muscles straining and flushed down to his chest.

Your cunt throbs as you slow down through his orgasm, gyrating against his hips until he stops twitching. He’s starting to catch his breath, and you bite down on a smile as you pick up the pace, watching as his face twists up.

“A-h-ah—you—I—“ his voice is a squeak, stopping abruptly as he feel you continuing to rock against his soft cock. A low-grade hum buzzing out of his chest continually as you ride him relentlessly. When it doesn’t stop, you finally still.

“Safe word?” You ask, stroking his cheek and feeling the heat of his skin against yours.

“Nuh—no,” he gasps out, bucking into your cunt despite the way it makes him cry out.

You smirk. This is going to be a fun night.

[moonstruckme]

babe you’ve got me obsessed with doctor remus!

can i request a drabble where reader gets into like a car accident and has been taken into a&e with like mid/severe injuries and remus has been assigned to treat her?

if not then that’s fine! love your work bae 🎀

Hi gorgeous! Thank you for requesting (I'm obsessed with him too) :)

cw: hospital

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 716 words

The nurse leaves, and you think you might finally get more than five seconds to yourself but then the curtain pulls back again, a tall doctor taking her place. You’ve been able to feel your heartbeat pulsing through every inch of you since you’d stumbled out of your smoking car, and this new man doesn’t help matters. 

He’s lovely. With a face smattered with warm freckles and silvery scars and a mop of brown hair that looks like it’s never once been brushed, this is the kind of person who would fluster you on a normal day. Now, you don’t even know the word to describe the effect he has on you. 

He has to ask his question a second time before you hear it. 

“Have you had allergic reactions to any medications?” 

You blink. It still feels like reality is moving at twice its usual speed. You don’t know if it’s just you shaking, but it feels like the whole room. “Uh, no. Sorry.” 

“That’s alright.” The doctor’s voice is businesslike but kind, with a Welsh lilt. He flips a page on his clipboard. “Anything we weren’t able to address in the ambulance? Any new aches and pains?” 

“I—I don’t think so.” 

He lowers the clipboard slightly, looking at you. His eyes are a lightish brown color, like honey left too long in the sun. “Has anyone talked you through grounding exercises?” 

You feel your brow wrinkle. “What?” 

He almost smiles. “I’ll take that for a no.” He sets down his clipboard on the edge of your bed, pulling up a rolling chair and sitting down in front of you. “I’m going to have you breathe with me for a minute, alright, sweetheart?” 

It’s not in your nature to contradict professionals, but you feel your head shaking as if from somewhere outside of yourself. “Why?” you ask. “Aren’t there more important things?” 

“There are still things left to do,” he allows, seeming unaffected by your questioning, “but you’re stable. It’s nothing that can’t wait for a few minutes, and it’s important that you’re calm so you can think properly.” He takes your hands in his, ignoring the odd padding of the splint around your broken wrist and holding your fingertips instead. “All I need from you is for you to copy my breathing. Can you do that for me?” 

You nod. As he starts to talk you through it, your eyes begin to sting, an effect of his gentle tone or the respite your body has been craving or both. Your doctor’s expression doesn’t change when he sees the silver lining your eyes, but he gives your fingertips a light squeeze. 

“Okay, in for eight this time,” he says in that lulling voice. “Good job, just keep at it.” 

You manage to breathe in for long enough to satisfy him, and after the exhale he drops your hands. 

“Well done,” he murmurs, mindful of the small cuts on your face as he thumbs away your tears. “Are you feeling a bit better?” 

“Yeah,” you answer honestly. The word comes out like a sigh, and his lip curves softly at the plain relief in the sound. 

“Happy to hear it. You were right earlier, there’s still plenty left to do,” he says, expression sombering somewhat as he looks at you intently, “but if you ever need a break, you tell me or someone else, okay? I don’t want you suffering in silence.” 

“Okay.” You wet your lips, feeling much more solid than you had a few minutes before. The world has slowed to its regular speed. “Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.” 

He smiles, which is altogether too charming for a place like this. It makes the long scar going across his cheek crinkle slightly and you could swear his eyes lighten a shade. “Well, see, that’s how I know you weren’t really with me when you came in, because we’ve already been introduced.” His expression lets you know he hasn’t taken any offense, but your face still heats at your impoliteness. “It’s Doctor Lupin, but you can call me Remus.” 

Something in you rings at this new knowledge, like a tuning fork has been struck. Remus, your consciousness echoes quietly. 

His smile softens. “We’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other today.”