#precursor-ao3

[rk1k-moved]

DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN | RK900

for the wonderful @precursor-ao3!!!

[sucrosette]

★— ⋆｡˚ [Losing Myself In Simon Snow]

For Day 23 of Carry on Countdown 23, Bite. @carryon-countdown

On Simon Snow and Baz Pitch and their respective sets of teeth finding their way into each other's bodies.

Rated M for... this being what it is (the precursor to smut).

⋆｡˚

Simon bites a lot.

Between the two of us, you’d expect the vampire to be the one that bites a lot, but no. That honor goes to the dragon winged boy with the prehensile and overly sensitive tail.

When we’re kissing, he tugs my lips between his teeth, nips at them till they’re sore. He’ll trail more nips and bites overy jaw and down my neck and over my shoulders until I’m so worked up and frustrated, I pin him beneath me, just to keep his teeth from digging in more. I mean, other things follow, but it starts with stopping Simon from assaulting me with his teeth.

When he’s been worked up into a bluster— my fault, almost with one hundred percent certainty, I know— he bites. He latches onto my forearm or pec and digs in for dear life until I give in and stop teasing him for some small thing or another. Even if I think he’s cute when he’s all red in the face and annoyed with me.

I do, by the way, always think he’s cute.

When he’s embarrassed, he steals my hand to hold, inevitably using me as a sort of shield from whatever thing’s embarrassing him. I’ll talk us out of the situation and walk us away and then somehow my hand will end up in his mouth and he’ll be chewing on my palm like some sort of stimtoy. I don’t bother to stop him. It’s silly, sure, and it feels odd, but I don’t mind if it helps calm him.

When he’s angry, he doesn’t quite bite. He’ll snap his jaw at whatever or whomever has him fuming, but he never actually finds purchase to bite. I can feel it in him though, the urge to snap back with something more instinctual than sharp words and mean looks. Sometimes it’s at me, though I like to think that I give Simon less cause to be angry than I once did, but even though I always let him, he never bites me when he’s fuming at me. He doesn’t want to actually hurt me, sweet thing that he is.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s because I don’t bite him. It is mostly in teasing and play and definitely intended to get a reaction out of me, so it could be that. I mentioned the thought to Bunce once and she kindly asked me to never mention it again, or else she’d evaporate out of existence.

I’ll stick with Shakespeare and familial magicks. At least that much is safe to talk about with Penny, as much as the psychology of Simon is also a shared interest of ours. Apparently the interest doesn’t extend to all facets of Simon, and his biting habits are just a boundary she won’t cross.

It’s fair enough, I suppose.

Maybe I need more friends so I can have more perspectives on what might be normal or not. Vampire friends, maybe, though I admit that I’ve had relatively bad luck with those.

I think a part of it might be the whole “well if you won’t bite me, I’ll have to bite you” attitude he’s got going on. A sort of petty revenge, or maybe it’s some kind of way to egg me into doing it. That’s not to say I haven’t thought about biting him. I’ve thought about it too much, honestly. Every time his heart skips a beat when we kiss, every time we’re nestled together in sleep and my nose is buried against his neck, every time his pulse is thrumming with effort when he’s wrapped around me, every time I bend to kiss his wrist…

I think about it too much.

He undoes me, my Simon. Takes every decision I’ve ever made and throws it out the window, makes an exception of himself in my life at every turn.

But not on this. At least, not yet.

I’m getting weaker in my resolve against it, and I think Simon knows, because he’s tripling down on the biting lately. Coffee’s gone cold? A bite. Remote’s gone missing? A bite. I changed the wifi password? Several bites. I had a good reason for it, but no, there was no forgiveness, only teeth.

He’s in my lap and he’s kissing me hard, shoved me back against the couch like he’s desperate for it, and he is. His tongue is everywhere, my lips are already sore from his teeth, his hands are hot under my shirt and I don’t even know what I did to get him worked up like this.

I’m not about to stop him though. “You make me come undone, Simon Snow,” I breath against his lips and he moans into our kiss, “You make me feel insane.”

“Show me,” He half-demands, half-begs as his kisses start wandering. His lips feel like fire against my collarbone and I can hear the thundering of his heart. “Show me how insane I make you…”

I’ve spoiled him, I know I have. I give him everything he wants, I give into his every demand, but there’s no going back on it now. I don’t regret doing it either. I love giving Simon everything I can, he’s so hungry for it, swallows it all down like he was made for me, asks me for more.

I’m kissing him still and he tugs at my lips, asking for a deeper kiss while he grinds over me, and I give it to him. I let my tongue trace the roof of his mouth and the heat of his tongue, and when I pull back I tug on his lips in turn. I give him just the barest taste of my teeth.

He nearly collapses on top of me.

“Simon?”

He leans up on his elbow, biting into his own lip over where my teeth had just been. He bites hard enough to make himself bleed. I don’t think he’d intended that, but he did it all the same. “You used teeth.”

I don’t think he can even taste his own blood he’s so caught up in the thought.

It’s a moral thing. I want to live my life with Simon Snow. If I drink human, I become more inhuman, I live forever, blah blah blah. I’ve thought about it. I’ve thought about it too sodding much.

There is a drop of blood growing on Simon Snow’s lips.

I’m not thinking about it when my tongue darts out of it’s own accord and laps over the bite. I’m not thinking about it as that droplet runs over my tongue and back down my throat. I’m not thinking about it as I feel Simon start to run through my veins, as his taste fills my mouth.

The only thing I’m thinking about is that taste, that savory-sweet taste. It’s not like the blood I normally drink, but it is blood. It’s not like anything else I’ve ever tasted. I can’t find the words to describe it, and that would probably shock Simon more than the fact that I’d used teeth in the first place. I don’t stop to think about it.

I capture his split lip between mine and suck over it hard, tongue laving over it as I drink from him, letting myself linger in the flavour that is uniquely Simon Snow’s. I drink from that little wound until it’s given me all it can, and it’s not nearly enough, and in the same breath it’s entirely too much.

I didn’t even realize I’d flipped at some point in the process. My hands are poised on Simon’s shoulders, keeping him pinned down under me, my kisses turning tender over that small sore.

“You used teeth,” Simon says again as I lean off of him enough to regain myself.

I’m trying to think about my breathing, bring myself back to calm, but my veins are alight with Simon running through them. I’m thrumming with him. “I used teeth,” I manage to echo back.

“Do it again,” Simon asks, his hands finding their way back under my shirt, and I almost shake my head, denying us both.

But why not?

I’m already not thinking. I can’t think of a single reason why not.

I’m already pulling one of his hands away from my abdomen, letting the other linger there while I caress his palm against my cheek, against my lips, teasing the sharp edge of fang against it, lapping over the lines of his palm, tasting his sweat.

I am not thinking.

I am breathing Simon, tasting Simon, bleeding Simon.

And I want more.

I lay the tenderest of kisses against his wrist, feeling the pulse of it against my lips, thin, sensitive skin against thin, sensitive skin. “Do it again?” My voice comes out harsher than intended, giving me away entirely.

“Do it again,” Simon confirms. His eyes are fixed to mine, watching me lose myself in the sensations of him.

I don’t mind. I trust him. He trusts me. He wants it just as much as I do.

My fangs sink in against his wrist and he gasps like he’s forgotten how to breathe while I drink from him. Maybe he has. Maybe with both have.

I’m drinking from Simon Snow. I’m losing myself in Simon Snow. I’ve never felt more alive. I’ve never felt more dangerous. I could live on this, I think. He’d let me.

I might be addicted already.

He’s writhing under me when I pull off his wrist, and I must look some kind of way, but I can’t begin to imagine how. I keep kissing his wrist, licking up stray droplets, even as his nails dig into the soft underside of my jaw, begging my attention properly.

“Again,” He whines, and it is a proper whine.

I haven’t taken much for myself. I know I could.

I smirk down at him. “Later,” my words filter back in clearer, and I think I can see the details of him that much sharper, “I have other ways I want to eat you tonight, Simon Snow.”

[koushirouizumi]

{Yu-Gi-Oh!} Duel Monsters ~ A.M.V. Title/Song: “My Heart Will Go On” Characters/Ship: Katsuya Jounouchi x Yuugi Mutou {Wishshipping}/{Yu[u]Jou} + (Non-visible) Yami; {+very minimal DM ensemble} [specifically, Shizuka supporting Jounouchi; a single moment of Kaiba reacting to Yuugi & Jounouchi {but also reacting to Yami, if subconsciously}] acting as background Support (to both) On AO3: Here! (Some of) My Other Yugioh DM AMVs: Here! "My Heart Will Go On" © Celine Dion Yu-Gi-Oh! (Original Manga) © Kazuki Takahashi “Original” (1st) {Anime}/series © Toei Animation Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters {Anime} © Studio Gallop This is a Fanwork. No $$$ is being made off this.

{A.M.V by (Young) Me} {Do Not Repost} {Do Not Copy} {Do Not Re-produce My Works (Including Feeding to A.I./Reusing my Edits) Under Any Circumstances Without My Permission}

(Note: This is Old {10+ years old}. closer to one of my final/oldest YGO D.M. ones. The footage used will reflect this, as it was made before widespread transition into H.D. Footages. Please be understanding.) [There may be intent for me to remake it someday!]

Spoilers: Mainly for up to mid-end of Battle City; as well as some early “Series 0” (1st series), which was based off the first 7 volumes. (However, the major focus here is DM anime.) There are only limited/quick spoiler{s}; the vast majority of footage is the Pier Duel.

{I am NOT taking new Requests (+for this series) Nor changing This one at this time.} (Please do Not ask)

Note: -This video’s embed may randomly not display at times, Showing like it’s “down”, but it’s not at this time! {It usually happens late at night[s] or seemingly when Tumblr and/or Vimeo is experiencing very high traffic} If that happens, please consider watching at the Direct link here!

[jedibinx]

I don't know, I feel like this poem is the precursor to a story I'm writing.

"I fell for your soul when it was at its most broken,

swam in the shards, finding all those words unspoken,

bled from the wounds as I picked up the pieces,

holding them close until those acid tears ceases,

and when you stop crying, I glue the shards with my blood,

sip up your tears and water life's rosebud,

give you my entire self, drown and burn in your pain,

leaving me nothing but ashes and a blackened scorch stain,

And when you've emerged like a phoenix of fire,

with bare hands I'll protect you from the world's cruel barbed wire,

Finally, you're whole, complete, healed and new,

Glued together with my remains, just because I love you."

[wantonlywindswept]

you can never escape your sins

in the midst of all the tumblr pr0n bot notifications i got an alert from FANFICTION.NET on my old email account and the emotions were thus:

holy shit is that fanfiction.net

holy shit why did someone favorite my profile it’s been 84 years

...oh THAT was my screename?

they favorited it with only one story present?

HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHAT IS THIS BIO OH MY GOD I CANT EVEN READ IT DIRECTLY THE REGRETS THE REGRETSSSSSSS

wait i def wrote more shit than that, what was the other name i thought it was..?

oh thank god this profile is much more sane what a difference *checks* a... year? makes??

angst, angst, angst, random fluff, angst...yeah that seems about right

tempted to re-read the fics in a ‘covering your face with your hands and peeking through your fingers’ kind of way but i don’t think i’m emotionally prepared for that kind of mortification

[themadwomanherself]

It's funny to me that I should be working on my active story, yet I find myself either making more lore for the Precursors and Ancestors from Halo or working on other story ideas for Demon Slayers.

My motivation for Pale Blue Dot might be shot, but it certainly isn't for my other story ideas.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Virgin! Simon "Ghost" Riley

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Inexperienced! Simon, Virgin! Simon, Riding, Unprotected Sex, The Mask Stays On, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except 'You'.

Virgin! Simon who can hardly believe his luck as he watches and feels you ride him, your walls tight as you bounce on his cock, calling him your 'big guy'. His hands are on your hips, his own slamming up into yours in a rhythm you'd set for him.

He's sloppy. Unaccustomed to the euphoric stiffening of the knot in his stomach, pulling ever tighter with every slap of your ass against his thighs. Sure, he's had many an orgasm before, but never at the hands of another. Never so strong; a force of nature in its own right. He's breathing heavily - panting; you swear you can see him drooling from the corner of his mouth. Something viscous is filling you now. Not the full force of his seed, but a precursor to it. A warning.

The mask stays on (of course) during this exchange, but you can see the way he fights to keep his eyes open, to keep himself from betraying every sensibility and throwing his head back, screwing his eyes shut as his length is nestled inside you, a thick bump forming in your stomach with every thrust. Your hand slips down your front and you press it. Simon jolts, moaning between gritted teeth as you press, hard, harder still, forcing his cock into an even tighter position.

He's arching into you, the sensation of his veins and his bulbous tip throbbing against your insides enough to let you know that he's close.

You coax him. Goad him. "Y'gonna cum just for me, big boy? Gonna fuck me 'til I can't walk straight?"

He can't talk. Can't even think. For the first time in his life, he's fucked dumb. You can see it in the way his eyes roll back into his skull when you clench around him. Suffocate him. His hips stutter. His cock nudges something deep within you. You gasp.

It only took your calling him your "Good boy," to have him unravel before your eyes. He can't contain the strangled growl that is exorcised from him as he cums, deep and hard, thick, hot ropes of semen filling you. You can feel it, as if painting your insides white, bathing you in an unfettered warmth. His hands are cast-iron on your hips, pulling you down onto him as if to stop you from pulling away, to prevent even a drop of his seed from escaping you. He digs his heels into the bench beneath you, grounding himself.

And, as your orgasm sparks and ripples through you, you hunch over Simon, hands gripping his shoulders, squeezing him. You moan, long and loud, milking Simon for all he's worth. And now, between the sheets of his post-orgasm haze, he watches you, the ring of light above your head from the luminescent bulb of the changing room painting you as a saint in his eyes.

He's never going to let what you have - what you've shown him - go. No matter the cost. Not when this feeling of completion is steadfast within him, electrifying every fibre in his body, all the way down to his bones.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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[moonbaby26]

Their Favorite Parts

*crossposted to AO3 here*

Prompt: One Piece men and the parts of your body that they fixate on most. 

Reader Type: GN!Reader

Characters: Doflamingo, Kuzan/Aokiji, Crocodile, Smoker, Buggy, Mihawk, Shanks, Law

Warnings: language, references to sex, penetration, oral, and foreplay

Fic Masterlist

———————————

Doflamingo/Holes

He actually can be gentle with you. But you’ve found that level of care is always only a precursor to something else that he wants. And in the end, he can’t ever let you back to sleep until he’s been inside at least one of your holes and fully spent himself within it. 

Whether this wretched man is pounding between your thighs, or probing you with those long fingers, or dampening you with that equally obscene tongue…he wants to be as deep inside of you as he can possibly be. 

He loves you most when you’re trembling, thighs spread beneath him. Or on your knees looking up as your eyes water with your mouth full of his length. He’ll tell you what a good pet you are even as you plead or choke. 

But it’s as if you were made perfectly for him. He’ll never feel this with another lover. You’re his favorite until he destroys it all. And even then, he may just pull you from the ash to start with you again. Because he would sincerely miss you in his next empire.

Kuzan/Aokiji/Chest

He loves to sleep with his head on your chest. He can hear your heartbeat then and know that you’re still really there. That this isn’t all some terrible illusion, as much as he still feels he doesn’t deserve you and can’t keep you. 

His life has been too complicated. All the way from a respected, yet conflicted marine to whatever the hell people are calling him these days. But you never seem to judge him. You still believe in him, even now. He doesn’t understand your loyalty, but he loves you for it. 

And when the two of you are awake and intimate, he’ll be behind you, hands holding your warm chest as his fingers massage it. The way you lean back into him as your chill bumps form is so trusting. You know that he could freeze your heart in an instant if he chose to. But of course he never would. He wants this to last forever. He needs you at his side.

Sir Crocodile/Hips

He is certain you do it on purpose by now. The way your ever tight clothing forms around your body. It feels like a specific challenge you’ve made against him. As if you are daring his eyes not to follow you across the room as your hips sway while you walk. 

You’re his favorite assassin already. Though perhaps he can take some blame for letting this favoritism start to go to your head. And yet, even when he plans to punish you, he finds himself enjoying it too much. It’s hard to keep you humble when he’s still moaning your name as he fucks you over the top of his desk. 

With his one hand he grabs into that fleshy hip, riding you to his release as his hook stays warningly against the side of your face. But while you smirk against that curved metal as he finally cums, he knows you haven’t learned your lesson at all. Yet he also realizes that there are still years of this game to come. You’re too efficient to get rid of you anytime soon.

Smoker/Lips

It was the first thing he ever noticed about you. Just how pouty your lips could look, even as you argued and bitched at him on the battlefield. You cursed him through those lips, always lamenting that he made your shared marine ship smell like an ashtray. 

And by the time he’d found his way into your bunk one night, those same lips were about the only thing he would put his cigars down for. He’d wanted to kiss you for so long. By the time you finally let him, he never wanted to lose that high again. 

It could be soft, it could be rough. Just like you and your ever changing moods. You acted like you hated him until your mouth was over his. Then you were thrusting against him soon enough and whimpering even as you both knew you couldn’t wake the rest of the ship. 

He always started and ended sex with you with those damned lips. And every time he knew curses would be flying from them again tomorrow, even if his name would also be moaning out through them just as passionately each night.

Buggy/Butt

His life was a circus. And not just in the literal way he would have preferred. Somehow every move he made garnered new success, but equal terror. He never knew what tomorrow would bring. As Cross Guild’s infamy grew, so did his reputation along with it. 

But his nerves were shot, and you could tell. When the others bullied him, you never added to it. He hadn’t a clue why you’d chosen him. But he wouldn’t take it for granted either as you’d come to sit in his lap, late at night in his room. You’d call him your captain, your emperor even, grinding that perfect ass into him as you tried to cheer him up. 

And it always worked. As he’d a bit too desperately slide your pants from you, you always humored him. Letting his hands massage and hold that enticing rear. If he wanted to spank you, you let him do that too. It was just so soft and…comforting? He might not admit it, but you were his only remaining stability in this place. If he lost you, that would have been his breaking point. But he trusted you too when you promised that you were in it for the long haul. He was already your pirate king.

Mihawk/Eyes

It was the way you’d looked at him that first time the two of you had ever crossed paths. You weren’t afraid of his history, even as you’d seen him kill a lesser swordsman right in front of you. 

By the time he got to know you better, he’d realized just how much he liked to gaze into those eyes. It was as if he could feel what you were thinking. And as your confidence grew, that ‘come hither’ look of yours became far more prominent as well. 

Just with a glance, he knew exactly when you were craving to have those physical needs sated. And he certainly respected that need, finding it rather quickly a mutual one as he’d often carry you to his bed. 

And even then as his hips would be pumping skillfully against your own, you’d be looking up at him in a haze of pleasure with those same beautiful eyes. A view for him alone, one he would cherish and protect forever more.

Shanks/Legs

It might have been a bit too crass on his part, that afternoon in the bar when he’d first noticed you from across the room. But his ship wouldn’t be in port for long. There wasn’t time to play this subtle. No, not at all as he’d whistled loudly, catcalling you while his crew had laughed. 

He’d gotten the full view as well when those same lovely legs had carried you right back up to the bar to tell him to go fuck himself. And the way he’d smiled at you just pissed you off even further of course. 

Your anger made you stay. And it was definitely a talent of his to inspire that, but he was persistent too. Soon enough you’d let him buy you a drink, and then a few more. By the time the two of you had been stumbling out of the bar, you were letting him know your room number at the nearby inn. You wanted to know if he was just all talk. He assured you that he was not.

And that night as he did get the privilege of those legs being wrapped around him as your bed creaked and shook in a marathon of lovemaking, he realized his crew probably could find more room on the ship. You had no ties to this town either. 

By morning he was more than pleased when you agreed to board. Beck had protested a little, just at the sudden impracticality of yet another mouth to feed. But Shanks knew you would fit in fine, all of you and those legs laying in his bunk warm beside him for years to come on your way through the New World.

Law/Hands

With an epithet like the Surgeon of Death, he of course knew better than most on the importance of dexterity and skill with the hands. Without his own, he felt that he would have been useless. 

But this appreciation for such talent had quickly extended to you once he’d finally given in. He’d ignored you for as long as he could, too logical in his understanding of how reckless it’d be to pursue a member of his own crew. But so many days and nights alone under the ocean’s surface had finally worn him down. 

The night on the Polar Tang when those skillful fingers of yours had finally been in his hair, and finally unbuttoning his pants soon after was one that had been so long coming. You’d gotten to see that other side of him then as he unraveled almost shamefully beneath your stroking and assurances. 

He’d taken care of everyone else for so long you told him, playing the part of their stoic leader. But you knew he was far from only that as your hands drew out all his pent up need. 

You promised him that he was safe with you. That you were with him until the end. And it was all true. The captain of the Heart Pirates would remain within your capable hands for as long as he desired to. And that desire would prove to be unbreakable.

[kingtomura]

From Water to Wine

summary: It’s so obvious — so glaringly obvious and you can’t believe the realization hit you right here, right now as Tomura makes you come undone on his tongue in the warmth of the morning twilight.

You love him. 

You love him.

Fuck.

Cw: Tomura shigaraki x female reader, quirkless AU, established relationship, smut with plot, lots of plot, jealousy, insecurity, hurt/comfort, oral (f! receiving), make up sx, confessions, a ton of kissing, not sorry, toxic environments, piv, overstim, creampie, begging, bad parental figures, toxic parenting, mdni

wc: 9.4k | crossposted to ao3 | part 4 of the strict parents au (one, two, three)

If someone had asked you a year ago where you saw yourself right now, you would have given them a million different answers. 

None of them involved your current reality. 

You would have never thought you would be right here, right now — in your boyfriend’s shabby basement drinking with his friends while they smoked and argued about the latest game releases.

And they were an interesting set of friends. 

“Bullshit, what the hell do you even know about games?” Tomura spat, pointing a finger and splashing a bit of beer from the bottle he held in his hand. 

The one you’ve come to know as Dabi just smiles that same grin that makes Tomura’s eye twitch in irritation and shrugs his shoulders. “Hey, not my fault some of us prefer first person shooters.” 

The conversation between them carries on and you find your mind drifting away — way too focused on the way Tomura has his arm wrapped around you with his free hand pressed against your hip, pulling you closer and making your cheeks flush deeper than what the alcohol already has. 

You like when he gets this way — a little louder and a little looser with his words. It's all a precursor to what will happen tonight, when he’s a little rougher and presses into you so much deeper. 

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol, but you find yourself lost in the thought, biting your lip and watching the way Tomura’s heavy lidded eyes narrow as he focuses on his argument with Dabi. 

You can’t help but stare when he gets like this, the gleam of fire in his eye when he argues, never backing down when he knows he’s right. 

It’s alluring.

The giddy feeling you have only grows and you know its because tonight Tomura will fuck you in a way he only does when his grin is a little too wide and his eyes are a little too low. 

You feel more emboldened and your words are looser when it’s like this. Eager to speak up in the argument, defending Tomura against Dabi’s quips and its fun. 

It’s different to be able to speak so freely around people who would never judge you like your old stuck up friends would have. They all came from good families who have high expectations. Anything outside of the normal would be mocked and expelled. 

You feel so free here. 

With Tomura — with all of them. 

“Whatever you say, freak.”

“I'm sure it takes one to know one.” You shoot back and the room breaks out in laughter, even Dabi holds up his hands in surrender. 

The smug grin you wore only widened as Tomura leaned in and kissed your temple, proud that you can hold your own against the biggest smartass in the room. 

Himiko stands from her place on the couch with Spinner, laugh dying down, but smile remaining on her face. “Wow, Tomura, I like her way better than your other girl.”

You feel your grin slide off of your face as fast as it had arrived.

Other girl?

Tomura has never mentioned another girl besides you. 

The concerning comment makes your mind race with endless possibilities, the cycle only being broken as Himiko announces her departure, unaware of the inner turmoil she’s just thrown upon you.

“Jin doesn't like when I stay out too late so I’ll see you all later!” Her voice is high and chipper as she bounces towards the door.

“Hey, tell your brother don’t forget what he owes me, crazy girl!” Dabi yells after her, Himiko only returning a small wave and exiting the room. 

There’s a lull in the conversation, only being broken as Spinner dies in his game of Mario Kart, too drunk to focus, but all the more determined to win. 

“Damn it!” His frustration breaks through as he stands to his feet, “I almost had it!”

Dabi nods, clearly unbothered by the outburst and walking over to him, “work on it next time. It's getting late and I'm tired.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Spinner asks a little too loud, his intoxicated state more obvious as the minutes went on.

Dabi only shrugs, throwing an arm around his shoulder and leading him to the door. “Can’t let you walk home like this and risk getting snatched up now can I, princess?” 

You vaguely register Spinner’s retort as Dabi throws a hand up in a wave and leaves as well, leaving only you and Tomura in the room. 

What would have been exciting has become a weight in your stomach, leaving a pit of dread as your mind raced with Himiko’s words. 

Some other girl. Someone before you. A girl who’s already met his friends, who has already been in your place. It brings a different kind of feeling to your mind that you’ve never really experienced. 

The only thing that grounds you is Tomura’s shuffling as he stands and kisses your forehead. 

It’s as if that one kiss dispelled the thoughts poisoning your mind and replaced them with the warm feeling you usually have when it comes to Tomura. The feeling that is only heightened by the strong sensation of alcohol. 

You unsteadily trail behind him as he laces his fingers in yours and leads you out of the room and towards his. 

The path is a familiar one and the giddy feeling returns as you race through the familiar corridors with him. 

His home feels like a maze and the alcohol makes everything feel so much more fun. Your giggles and hurried footsteps are the only thing echoing throughout the halls as you chase behind him, eager to reach his room and come undone under his familiar touch.

Tomura has a habit of surprising you, though. 

You blame the alcohol for your dulled senses as you don’t expect him to stop before his bedroom, turning to press you into the corridor wall. A small gasp leaves you at the impact and you don’t have time to react before Tomura is gripping your thighs, hiking you up against the wall and pressing you so much closer.

The whimper that escapes your lips would embarrass you any other day, but today you can’t bring yourself to care. It only spurs Tomura on as he presses forward, kissing you with a fever you hadn’t expected him to be withholding. The urgency of the kiss only shows you how much he may have been holding back during the get together. 

You let out a soft moan as Tomura bites your lower lip, only to soothe it with his slick tongue in the next moment. Your arms wrap around his neck as you tilt your head, desperately seeking more of him as this heated endeavor grows with every passing moment. 

His hands travel up your thighs and along your sides, gripping anything and everything he could, pressing his clothed erection closer to your core and giving you more needed friction as he grinds against you. 

The way his hands slip under your shirt and massage your breasts makes you gasp again and Tomura takes this opportunity to press kisses along the column of your neck, loving the way he can finally leave as many marks as he wants. 

You’re in his home — there were no rules against marks. There were no rules at all. 

You close your eyes, getting lost in the feeling as Tomura licks and kisses along your neck, burying your hand in his ashen locks and weakly rutting your hips against his, craving more of him in any way possible. 

“So needy,” he breathes against you and you have to bite back a whine at his low tone. 

Tomura has you right where he wants you and it’s obvious. The more you ached for it, the more he would drag it out to tease you. There was nothing you wanted more than for him to rip the shorts off of you and take you right here, but you know it’s not that easy. 

“T-Tomura…” you try to keep it together, show him that you can be coherent even with the fuzz of alcohol muddling your mind. 

He pinches a nipple between his forefinger and thumb, this time drawing a yelp that you just couldn’t contain. 

His low chuckle reverberates against your neck, sending shivers all the way to your spine as slick between your thighs is beginning to soak through the material of your panties. 

“So sensitive, baby… you’d think I've been denying you.”

But you can’t help it. You wish you could cry out to him that your body just reacts like that for him, but you didn’t trust anything to fall from your lips besides a moan, so instead you keep quiet and hope he would give in to you sooner rather than later. 

Tomura trails kisses from your neck to your jaw, and then ultimately back to your soft lips, enjoying the feel of them against his. You knew this was always his favorite part. 

It was soft, it was intimate, and it was yours. 

Yours…

Your brows furrow at an unwanted thought, but you press on — pulling Tomura closer and flicking your tongue against his lips, knowing he would pull closer and deepen the kiss. 

He does and you’re grateful. 

The way his tongue dominates your mouth makes you mewl into the kiss. A welcome distraction from your increasingly loud thoughts. 

Tomura groans, bringing a hand down lower and lower until he reaches your clothed cunt. His finger presses against the thin fabric of the shorts, testing the waters of your sensitivity and loving the reaction he received in return. 

His touch makes your breath hitch, the feeling alleviating a bit of pressure that's been building up deep within you. 

You need more of it.

He pulls away again, trailing those soft kisses along your jaw and down your neck once more. It’s something that would usually make your heart flutter, but right now your mind is beginning to trail off, again. 

It’s the idea of your boyfriend with some other girl that haunts you. Someone before you. Her hands on his, doing the things you’ve grown to love with the boy you—

You squeeze your eyes shut.

You don’t want to think right now. You just want to feel. You just want Tomura to take you and make you feel good so you can stop fucking thinking—

“Hey.” 

Tomura’s sharp tone snaps you from your spiraling thoughts, bringing you back to reality. 

“What’s going on?” His voice is rough, as it usually is, but he is not frustrated. The narrowed glare in his eyes would make anyone else believe he was irritated, but not you. 

You know Tomura’s expressions like the back of your hand. He’s worried.

“I..” you pause, words lost on your tongue. What could you say? Jealousy is an ugly trait to have. “What do you mean?”

Tomura doesn’t buy your feigned ignorance. 

He pulls away further to get a better look at you, his hands resting on your thighs, the soothing motion of them tenderly rubbing up and down the exposed area makes you want to relax under his touch. 

“Why are you distracted?”

Your eyes cut to the side and you turn your head, unable to meet his ruby red gaze. The fear of admitting something as petty as jealousy eats at you. 

“I’m not.” You mutter, the lie not fooling your own ears. You’d be naive to think it would work on the one who taught you how to lie in the first place. 

It's clear he could see right through you and your eyes close at the soft touch of his hand along your chin, turning your head back to face him.

His eyes soften when they finally meet yours — the action is so slight you almost miss it. 

“You’re upset.” It’s a statement of the obvious, but you still bring yourself to nod, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth and hoping you could bite it hard enough to taste the iron of blood. Anything to distract you from the white hot humiliation that this conversation will bring to you. “Why?”

You inhale, knowing Tomura is not the type to let it go. Knowing he would keep you here all night if he had to so that you would speak your mind. 

“Himiko…” you mutter, dropping your eyes once more as the threat of tears begin to form along your waterline. 

“Himiko?” The complete confusion in his voice makes you more upset, he probably didn’t even remember what she’d said. 

“What she said earlier,” your voice wavers at your words and your defeat is imminent. The tears have already broken their bounds and began to trail down your cheeks. Embarrassment be damned. “About your.. Your ex.”

You could practically see the cogs turn in his head as he recounted tonight's events — the alcohol no doubt impairing his reflexes. 

His expression only makes the pit of anxiety in your gut grow, tight, but clearly showing signs of unease, “Oh, that.”

You nod, confirmation stinging. 

“That was someone I dated in highschool. Back when I was a teenager for three months.” His gentle hand moves from your chin to your cheek, wiping the falling tears from your flushed cheeks. “I don’t even think she lives in Kamino anymore, and I don't care. Haven’t cared in years. It’s why we broke up.”

Your heart still feels heavy with the weight of jealousy as Tomura comforts you. It's a bitter emotion that you know you have no right to feel. This was all before you, it shouldn’t matter. 

Even though you don’t meet his eyes, Tomura lets you down — your toes touching the cold hardwood of the hallway floor as he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. 

It’s soft and it’s sweet in ways you know Tomura only reserves just for you.

“C’mon, lets go to bed,” he takes your hand in his, leading you to the bedroom you’ve grown to know so well. “I’m exhausted.” 

And your heart beats in tandem with your steps as you make your way to the bed, your tears dried up as Tomura pulls you close, the warm embrace so much more soothing than you’d expected. 

It takes no time for your eyes to close — your mind drifting off to sleep as the weight of your heavy heart is lifted by Tomura’s touch. 

—---------------

There’s a window near Tomura’s bed. 

It's big and it gives you the best view when the weather is dark and rainy. It also has a secret gift of shining the morning sunlight directly in your face and waking you up. Something that Tomura had remedied for himself by covering the window with blackout curtains. 

You believe that one of you forgot to pull the curtain last night because the warm light of the sun’s rays cause you to stir from your sleep. 

No, that can be ignored. 

Something else is causing you to stir.

Something is making your brows furrow and your hips writhe as your lips part to pant at the feeling taking your breath away.

“W-what..” you mutter as you try to blink the sleep from your eyes, hand reaching down to investigate.

Your fingers meet the soft tresses of Tomura’s familiar locks just as his tongue makes direct contact with your clit, the feeling sending the wave of pleasure up your spine and causing you to cry out.

“Tomura..!” you cry weakly as you bury your fingers in his hair, back arching from the bed as he becomes more intentional with his actions, the excitement of waking you this way showing in his efforts. 

You gasp as Tomura’s skilled tongue flicks against your sensitive bud, his hands coming forward to hold your hips in place as he relaxes against your soaked cunt — lazily lapping at your entrance as you struggle to keep yourself together.

It’s effortless, the way he pushes your body to come apart, knowing you were still fighting the remnants of sleep and fully indulging in your pleasure. 

He gives your clit a soft kiss before moving to readjust on the bed, spreading your thighs wider as he watches your expression — his lips are glossy with saliva and slick, a small string of the mixture connecting him to your exposed cunt. 

Tomura has seen you in many different ways, in many different situations, but to be here, exposed before him so intimately makes you want to shy away. It makes you want to look away and you bashfully attempt to close your legs. 

If you were to keep going this way you may say some things you weren’t sure either of you were ready to hear. 

You blame it on the morning fuzz in your brain. 

There was no other explanation for the strong feelings you had within. The way they bubble along the surface of your words at every moment spent with Tomura. You know if you go longer with these feelings unchecked they would threaten to spill out and over — possibly tainting the comfort of your relationship with Tomura. 

“Ah!” you gasp, eyes squeezing shut at the lewd way Tomura laps at your cunt, moaning into you as the slick muscle of his tongue pushes you further and further to your end.

Tomura is watching your every move, his carmine eyes observing the way your hips twitch at the sensations, the way you breath hitches as he sucks on your clit — everything. 

You can’t help but fall into the pleasure. 

Coming undone is inevitable.

You toss your head to the side, the building pressure in your abdomen causing your thighs to tense as your hand finds his soft locks once more. The grip you had on his hair was nothing short of painful with the way you held on, but Tomura took it in stride, groaning at the rough treatment. 

He’s always liked when you were rougher with him. 

“F-fuck, Tomura, I can’t—” your words are slurred as his tongue glides against your clit, the sensitivity heighented as your mind rushes with the strong feelings that have plagued you for months.

You gasp as the budding realization hits you like a tidal wave. 

Your eyes clenched shut as the pleasure takes you over and under, dragging your muddled mind along as you come undone with Tomura’s touch. 

It’s so obvious — so glaringly obvious and you can’t believe the realization hit you right here, right now as Tomura makes you come undone on his tongue in the warmth of the morning twilight.

You love him. 

You love him.

Fuck.

Your body shivers as you reach the end, climax overtaking you while Tomura makes it his mission to make a complete mess of you — only stopping when your twitches of pleasure begin to meld into overstimulation, causing your hand to weakly push his head away.

There were tears lining your vision as Tomura brought himself back up to meet you, slick lips seeking yours and you hungrily greet him, unbothered by your own taste gracing your tongue as you languidly lick into his mouth. 

Your mind buzzed in the afterglow of an early morning orgasm and the idea of getting more from him entices you.

So much so that it makes you question why he hasn’t taken it further. 

Instead, Tomura pulls away, granting you one more kiss before lying down on his side of the bed, his words beating you to the question that awaited on your tongue.

“Headache,” he supplies as you turn towards him, the morning sunlight from the window illuminates his pale tresses in an almost pastel hue — hair so white it almost looks blue. You want to reach out and touch him. “I drank more than I thought last night and arguing with Dabi doesn’t help.”

Your heart tugs at the memory, a warm feeling spreading in your chest as you’ve grown to love those late weekend nights with Tomura’s friends. 

“I can bring you some water,” you offer, moving to stand. Maybe a little space would be good, it will give you a minute to think about the all consuming feelings that have flooded all parts of your mind this morning. “And some meds, too.”

Tomura hums in appreciation, turning over to face away from the sun.

You take that as your cue to go, but not before grabbing one of his oversized shirts and a pair of panties. Kurogiri shouldn’t be up at this time, but it would still be odd to walk around Tomura’s home naked. 

The trek to the kitchen is a short one and you waste no time grabbing an empty glass and some medication. 

Kurogiri was adamant about using one of those fancy water purifiers so it’s no surprise when you’ve fully distracted yourself, filling the glass and focusing your attention on the stream of water pouring from the refrigerator’s water dispenser. 

It’s so distracting that you don’t notice the presence behind you. 

“Oh, what’s this?” A deep voice behind you muses, catching your attention. The sound startles you so suddenly that you almost drop the glass of water. “Playing house now, are we?”

That doesn’t sound like Kurogiri, your thoughts race as you slowly turn to meet the mysterious voice of the man in question. 

He is… intimidating. 

He stands no less than twice your height with ashen hair that rivals Tomura’s. His eyes are even the same deep crimson of the boy you’ve grown to know so well. He eyes you with a tight smile, never straying from your gaze.

This must be—

“Are you Tomura’s friend?”

You nod, words caught in your throat, but you will yourself to speak. If this is who you think it is then it would be a bad idea to leave an impression worse than what you already have. “Yes.”

“I see. Would you be a dear and fetch him for me? I have a few words for him.” His tone is solid — even. 

You couldn’t make out how he felt in this moment if you tried. The small smile on his face seems pleasant, but given the circumstances of a half naked girl in what you can only assume to be his home really brings you no peace. 

So you nod again, hurrying off with the glass of water in your hand, forgoing the medicine and only wanting to be as far away from that man as possible. Something about him strikes fear into you. 

Tomura is in the same spot you left him before your kitchen adventure, but he cracks an eye open at the sound of you closing his bedroom door with a little too much force.

“What’s wrong?” he drags, turning over to face you and squinting as he gets hit directly in the face by the sun’s rays. You should really close that curtain soon.

The walk to him is short and you hand him the glass of water, bottom lip worried between your teeth as you search your mind for the right words.

“Someone’s here.” You didn’t mean to opt for an ominous choice, but you had no other idea what to say. Tomura has never talked about his parents. 

“What?”

“There’s a man in the kitchen. He wants to see you.”

This seems to click for Tomura as his eyes narrow for a second and then widen, ever so slightly, at the realization. 

You don’t know if that’s good or bad.

He sucks his teeth, taking the glass from your hand and downing the water as you watch on. Tomura seems calm, but he also has a very good poker face. If this is his parent then you’re not sure how long you would be able to stay.

The idea of going back makes you shiver. 

No, that’s not really an option. 

Tomura moves to stand, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and shirt, frustration evident in the way he tosses his clothes on. 

He gives you one more turn, words tight and brows downturned. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

You nod as he exits, leaving you alone in the silence of his bedroom. The beaming sun seems more comfortable than before, the warm rays dance along your skin as you play through every scenario that could come from their talk.

He could make you leave. 

That's the first and most obvious way to handle this situation. You know that your parents would never in a million years allow someone to stay under their roof with their daughter. It’s unheard of. 

Or worse, he could call your parents. 

You’ve gone completely no contact at this point and it wouldn’t be too much of a farfetched idea that this man would call them. Especially if Tomura tells him about your situation in full.

But… he could be a nice guy.

This could all be a big misunderstanding and blow over, if given enough time. This is more of a pipedream than a genuine idea, but you would go crazy if you only thought of the negatives. 

You don’t realize you’ve been pacing the room until you almost trip over a discarded shirt on Tomura’s floor. It stops you in your tracks and makes you look around to assess the state of his room. 

It's not perfect and it definitely needed work when you moved in, but it’s not terrible. 

You turn back to the door, as if Tomura would come bursting through with updates of the conversation at hand, but no. nothing has happened. Nothing has changed. 

The quiet of the room drives you crazy — there has to be something you can do.

It starts off small, picking up a few loose articles of clothing here and there, and then it delves into picking up empty drink cans, making the bed, and even sorting the mess of his closet. All in the name of passing time. 

By the time Tomura made his way back to the room, you have the space nearly spotless. He takes note, but refrains from commenting. Instead his next words shock you.

“He said you can stay.”

Your brows furrow. “I can?”

Tomura only nods, making his way back to his newly made bed and lying down once more, no doubt due to the headache still pounding against his skull. 

“That’s it?” you press — this all feels too easy. 

“Yeah, just wear pants more often.” He waves you off, turning over and gearing up to go back to sleep.

The comment makes your cheeks burn and you nod, even though Tomura can’t see it. 

It feels odd, especially knowing your parents would never allow this, but you suppose not everyone lived under such strict conditions. 

So instead, you push that uneasy feeling in the pit of your gut aside and climb into bed with Tomura.

His steady breathing is calming and the rhythmic sound helps you drift off as well, unable to shake the lingering of suspicion and uncertainty, ebbing away in the back of your mind.

—-----------

You’ve come to learn that Tomura is actually quite busy during the day. 

He is currently gearing up to go to his internship at the hospital, and it’s been taking up a chunk of his time lately. For a couple months he’s had a break from it since the doctor he had worked under was taking time away, but now he’s back and he wants Tomura to be busier than ever.

It’s not that you mind. Of course you knew Tomura’s life couldn’t revolve around you, but it still left you with not very much to do. 

On the days he has to go, you stay at home — your attention hopping from playing video games on his pc, to reading books then eventually cleaning. 

It's given you a lot of time to think about what you want for your own career. You’ve started to think long and hard about how you envision your future. The reason you were home from college in the first place was because you needed the time to think.

But now you have nothing but time and it feels even more stressful.

The thought of having to decide your entire future on a whim is daunting. 

What if you didn’t like where you were in five years? Could you start over? 

Would Tomura still be by your side?

That possibility catches you off guard as you stop in your tracks.  

Would he be by your side? 

You’ve never been in a relationship at all, especially not a long term one. You were all in, but how does Tomura feel? Would it be odd to ask? 

The plaguing thoughts seem to take root in your mind as you walk through the halls of Tomura’s home, hoping to find something to occupy your time and chase these feelings away. 

You think of the basement, it’s where the other gaming systems were set up and it’s also a good change of scenery. 

Yeah, that would take your mind off of it. 

Or it would have.

As you set your sights on the hallway that leads to the basement, there's a voice that catches your attention. It’s deep and ever so calm, even when strained by the words being spoken.

“That's not good enough. I told you to keep him there as much as you can.” The voice hisses to the person on the other line of what you can assume is a phone call. 

You stop in your tracks, just before you could pass the door of the room Shigaraki Senior was speaking from. Instead you listen in, putting your back to the wall beside the door and zoning in on his words.

“I don’t care how fast he tries to get the work done — he’s only doing that to get home sooner.” He pauses and takes a breath, frustration imminent. “I need them apart. He won't listen to me about it, but the sooner he gets bored of her, the better. I don’t have time for his little distractions.”

You have to bite back a gasp as the words ring in your ears. 

A distraction..? You knew it was too good to be true. 

“Right,” the voice carries on, calling your attention once more, “I understand, but if he is to be the next me he cannot afford to get sidetracked.”

You haven’t had much of a chance to get to know the head of the household, instead preferring to stick by Tomura and make yourself as unobtrusive as possible. 

It felt as though you were walking on eggshells. As if you were in an orientation period and any misstep would lead to you tossed out onto the street — you would be food for the wolves.

But you knew deep down that there was always something to worry about. It was too good to be true, yes, but you couldn’t understand why he was letting you stay anyway.

There's a lull in the conversation before it picks up again.

“I suppose…”  The man’s voice sounds like it's getting closer and you take that as your cue to go back to Tomura’s room — but not before you catch the sound of his parting words. “It seems I'll just have to try harder then, hm?”

You don't know what kind of games this man was going to play but you knew one thing.

You had to tell Tomura. 

—-----------

It doesn't go well.

“No, Tomura, I heard him,” you whisper, the harsh sound of your voice cutting through the dark room, the curtains blocking the light of the incoming dawn as Tomura began getting ready for another day at the hospital, “talking about us.” 

You look down, arms crossed and defensive. “He wants us to break up — and he thinks you’ll do it on your own.”

Tomura’s expression is a mix of shock and disbelief, probably unsure of why his father would ever want him to break up with someone who brings him so much joy.

“No, there’s no way.”

“I’m telling the truth.” you plead, putting on your best voice of reason.

“He wouldn’t do that. It doesn’t make sense.” His tone is snappy, clearly ready for this conversation to end. 

But you persist. “Why would I lie?” 

“I don’t know — why would you?” He shoots back and the retort makes your ears perk. 

“I would never lie to you, Tomura, I—”

“Just stop,” he holds up his hand and the shock of it makes halt in your tracks. You’ve never seen him this agitated, or irate. “You don’t even know him.” 

But I don't have to know him, the words echo in your mind, stuck on your tongue as you watch Tomura continue, one hand to his neck as he etched his bad habit into his skin. 

He was starting to spiral. 

“You’re not even giving him a chance! I know he wouldn’t do that — he cares about me! He's the only one who—” Tomura stops himself, frustration leading him down avenues you don't think he’s walked in years.

You reach a hand out, aiming to comfort his ravenous habit, aching to tell him what’s really been eating away at your emotions for the last few weeks, but Tomura only scowls, the harsh look so intense it makes you snatch your hand back.

He’s never looked at you with such disdain before.

“Whatever. I’ll see you later.” His tone is final as he turns towards the door and you watch as he takes a breath to calm himself down, lowering his hand from his now redded neck.

Your chest feels tight, words fighting on your tongue to admit what you’d been holding within. It’s eating you up inside how strong these feelings were. “Tomura, wait— I didn't mean to upset you.”

He pays you a glance, expression neutral and features school back to their default calm. “It’s fine. I’ll see you tonight.” 

And then he’s gone, leaving you alone once more in the room that you’ve both begun to grow into. The desperate feeling in your chest fights for your undivided attention and you're beginning to wonder how long you can keep it at bay. 

—----------

The night doesn’t feel any better. 

Tomura’s return brings the tension from this morning and you’re positive he didn’t have the best day during his internship. It pushes the pressure between you further.

The air feels thick as you both move about in his room — you, scanning the books along his bookshelf for another manga to read, and Tomura on the floor with his notes from the day spread out in front of him. 

Luckily for you, Tomura breaks the silence. 

“There’s a dinner tonight — my father wants us both there.”

This piques your interest, eyes darting to his tense form. “Like a fancy dinner?”

Tomura shakes his head, adjusting the papers below with a bit too much force. He takes one flyer and balls it up, tossing it into the trash can near his desk as if the paper offended him. It’s crumpled, but you can still make out the words: Almighty Medicine.

“No, it’s just with us. Kurogiri will cook.” He pauses, features pensive as he decides his next words. “He wants to get to know you.”

Your heart sinks. 

It sounds like a trap. 

But you really didn’t want a repeat of this morning, so instead you suck it up and nod — even though Tomura couldn't see you. His gaze was completely focused on the papers below. His shoulders were stiff as he slouched to halfheartedly read the notes. You debate giving him some kind of massage to ease the edge.

You refrain, choosing to wait it out a bit more. The last thing you want is to stress him even more before the last minute dinner. 

So with a resigned sigh you answer, “Okay.” 

—---------

Kurogiri is a good cook.

It's the only thought in your mind as you absently stare at the food plated before you. Dinner tonight was filled with flavorful meats and vibrant vegetables. The rice was a perfect accent to the other options and any other time you would find yourself eager to dig in. 

But not tonight. 

No, tonight you can’t seem to find your appetite. 

You only push your cabbage back and forth with your chopsticks and await the inevitable questions you're sure Shigaraki Senior will ask.

“Tomura,” his baritone voice breaks the silence and you focus more on your cabbage, “you seem tense. What’s the matter.”

There’s a pause, and Shigaraki Senior’s faux friendly demeanor is not lost on you. “I saw that asshole again today. His face pisses me off.”

His father frowns. “Yes, well. That’s just business. When you’re over the company you won’t have to see him—“

“That’s not the problem!” Tomura cuts him off and you hold your breath, you could never raise your voice at home, “He leads his hospital and he’s a provider.”

“And that is not the path I have laid out for you.” The words are calm and collected, no hint of malice or anger. It’s eerily calm. 

 “Yeah, whatever. When are you going on that business trip again?” Tomura snaps.

The tension in the air is suffocating, it's thick and it's tense. It makes you want to run away, your feet anxiously tapping as you will yourself to bite down the uneasy feeling. 

The slow smile that creeps its way onto his father’s face makes your skin crawl. “You know, I believe I have more important matters to handle here at our home and in our town.”

“Great.” The sarcasm is evident in Tomura’s voice, dripping into the already strained air. 

“Well, that’s enough about our family matters... how about you, young lady.” His sharp eyes catch yours and you feel like a deer in headlights. “How are your parents? Do they know you’re here with my boy?”

You feel struck by his words, the pang in your stomach reverberating through your body as you scramble to find the words to answer him. “Well—”

“They’re aware.” Tomura cuts you off, his glare is ice as he places his chopsticks down and leans back in his chair, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. 

It seemed to be a challenge, one you are not prepared to back him up on. 

You were never a good liar. 

His father’s attention is snapped back to Tomura and you were sure anyone else would falter under that glare. 

“Really? If it were my boy off staying with some young girl I would want to at least get to know the one who’s paying the bills.”

He only shrugs in response, false air of disinterest apparent as he picks his chopsticks up again, picking away at his food once more. “Well it’s a good thing she isn’t your child then, huh.”

You think the conversation is over — that Tomura has successfully dodged this bullet and you will be allowed a peaceful dinner, but things were never that easy for you. 

“I think we should give them a call, hm? If she’s staying in my home I want to make sure they know all the details.”

You watch Tomura’s fingers twitch, irritation threatening to explode and you can’t help but think that’s exactly what his father wants to see. 

It’s toxic, in a whole new way. 

“Fine,” Tomura surprises you, your eyes cut to his stiff form, “since you’re so worried why don’t you go ahead and do it. I don’t get why you care so much anyway.”

His father seems unimpressed — that smile and those chilling eyes frighten you, it makes your blood feel like ice in your veins. “You’re right, Tomura. I shouldn’t care. And you know what? I won’t.”

You both look up, dumbfounded. 

“I won’t care unless you both give me a reason to care. How does that sound?” 

It sounds fantastic, in theory, but you know that it doesn’t matter how it sounds. 

It’s blackmail. 

The reality of the situation hits you then and there. 

Tomura is combative with his father because he can be.

“I think that’s a fair trade, don't you, Tomura?”

But only to a certain extent. 

Your eyes dart between the two of them as the weight of his words set in. Tomura is forced to comply — agree to his fathers terms or else. This is a battlefield you aren't familiar with — one of mind games and bad faith practices. 

It is naive to think Shigaraki Senior will be sensible in what he decides are good reasons.

Your time here was limited.

The end of dinner was as stressful as its start: tense, awkward and very foreboding. 

The stress of it all had Tomura pacing his room while you helplessly sat on the bed fighting the urge to tell him I told you so — that would help no one here. 

“This is bullshit!” he starts, the frustration of his thoughts coming to a head and spilling out. “Give me a reason, yeah, whatever.” 

Your brows furrow as you watch Tomura vent, his bitter words hanging in the air as you purse your lips — trying and failing to come up with any kind of solution for your situation. 

“And why does it even matter that you're here? He’s hardly here anyway!” The perturbing scratching habit has made its return and this time you do stand to your feet, marching over to where Tomura paced and taking his hand. 

As upsetting as this situation was, you knew that it wouldn’t do either of you any good if tomura destroyed himself in the process of understanding his father’s true intentions. 

“Hey,” you try, reaching for his hand and refusing to back down this time. “We’ll figure something out.”

You’re surprised when he lets you, his carmine eyes lock with yours as his ever present scowl remains unchanged. “Yeah, like what?”

You try to ignore the cross tone in his voice, opting to just hold his hand and try again. You're beginning to realize this is uncharted territory for both of you. 

“I don’t know, who was the guy you saw at your internship? The one who runs the other hospital and all? Maybe you could ask how he—”

“I am not doing that.” Tomura cuts you off, voice even more agitated.

Your brows furrow in confusion as you ignore his tone. You squeeze his hand instead, still trying to remain calm. “But you never know, Tomura. Maybe he could help you—”

“No! Why would I ask him of all people?” He snatches his hand away and you realize you’ve struck a nerve. 

This wouldn’t end well.

“You don’t even know who he is, you don’t know what he’s done!” His voice begins to rise and you wonder if he’s aware of the hurt lining his words. There is a hidden history in this mystery man that Tomura has foregone informing you of. 

You’re beginning to recognize a pattern — something about that fact gets under your skin. 

“Maybe I would if you actually told me anything about your life, Tomura! You’ve barely let me in at all!” 

And it’s true. 

You knew nothing about his father, he doesn't talk to you about his internship and you don’t even know who this mystery super provider is. You’ve been in the dark for a while and you’re tired of it. 

“And why should I do that?” He questions, becoming more and more defensive as the conversation carries on. “So you can use it against me?”

“What?” you gasp, baffled by his accusation. “Why would I ever do that?”

“I don’t know! Why else would you fucking care?”

“I care because I love you, dumbass!”

Both of you freeze. 

You didn’t want it to come out this way. 

You wanted the confession to be one of candied words and hushed whispers. You wanted it to be slow and romantic, maybe while Tomura was deep inside of you, hitting that sensitive spot that made you see stars. 

But things were never ordinary when you were dating a man like Tomura Shigaraki. 

In that moment you realize that maybe this was something you were willing to learn to live with. 

“What,” Tomura’s voice is low as if speaking louder would shatter the still air within the room, “what did you just say?”

Your breath hitches, the buzz of anxiety and anticipation makes you hesitate. “I said.. I love you, Tomura.”

He takes a step forward, it’s slow but sure. You remain stagnant and still. 

“Say it again.”

You do. 

“I love you, Tomura.” The words are warm as they leave your lips and now he stands before you, his height forcing you to look up at him. 

His carmine eyes shine with unbridled fervor that seems to be itching to make itself known. 

You want to see him lose control. 

So with a slow smile, you gear up to say it again, “I love y—“

You’re cut off by the press of Tomura’s lips against yours and the desperation in it pushes you back. Tomura is fast, pulling you closer to stop you from losing your balance. You feel lightweight as you wrap your arms around Tomura’s neck, tilting your head and deepening the kiss.

It’s intoxicating the way he maneuvers you, the way he makes you melt into the kiss, desperate for more — and he gives it to you. 

His hands trail up your sides and back down to grip your ass. The action makes you gasp and Tomura wastes no time taking advantage of the opportunity, his tongue dominating your mouth as the heat between your thighs grows. 

You moan into the kiss and lean forward as Tomura begins to pull away. 

Your nose scrunches in confusion as he gazes down at you, lazy grin on his face. 

There isn’t much time to mull over what Tomura was thinking, he takes your confusion in stride, using the opportunity to push you back, bottom landing onto the bed and bouncing once with the force of impact. 

Before you can speak, Tomura is on you, lips against yours and pushing you down onto his dark sheets. You bring a hand to those familiar pale locks and close your eyes — allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling and finally release the pent up energy of your emotions. 

Tomura is quick, fingers curling around the hem of your shorts and dragging them down with your panties in tow and leaving you exposed before him. 

You gasp at the gentle touch of his index finger slipping between your slick folds and going no further.

“Tomura…” you try, pulling away from the kiss and hoping the hunger in your voice would be enough for him to continue.

He only gazes at you, eyes half lidded yet vibrant. You’re sure he’s put you in a trance.

“Say it again.” 

“I love you.” you breathe and then gasp as he finally touches you. 

His finger is gentle as he rubs slow circles onto your clit, the action makes your head feel fuzzy as the pleasure begins to rise. 

Tomura leans forward to press kisses against the column of your neck, nipping and sucking along the soft flesh — no doubt trying to leave deep marks into your skin. 

“Mm!” you squeeze your eyes shut as he picks up the pace, adding more pressure to his movements and slowly bringing you closer to the edge. Tomura is steady with his hands, he knows your body so well. From the inside and out so he knows that if he continues at this pace you would come undone way before you wanted to. 

Maybe that's what he was aiming for. 

His other hand is warm as he cups your breast, tweaking a nipple between his forefinger and thumb, knowing it drives you crazy. You feel dizzy as his fingers leave your clit and travel lower to your entrance, pressing not one, but two fingers inside and chuckling at your whine.

“What?” he teases, pumping the digits in and out as you writhe beneath him, “too much?”

You want to shake your head, tell him no, and that it's never too much when it comes to him, but the only thing you can manage is a pathetic whimper as you grip his dark shirt. “Please, Tomura.” 

“Please, what?” you can feel his grin against your neck as he places another open mouthed kiss against your collarbone. “You gotta talk to me, baby.”

“T-touch me,” you plead. 

He moves up so that he’s eye to eye with you once more. The grin on his face was just as you imagined it, smug and excited. “I am touching you.”

You close your eyes again, knowing exactly what he wants you to say. “Make me feel good, Tomura. Please.”

He likes that answer, you can tell by the way his eyes soften and his fingers twitch ever so slightly within you. 

Tomura leans forward, capturing your lips in a kiss once more as he moves his fingers with purpose, his thumb now pressing against your clit as the sensation grows.

It's hard to contain your cries, but you try. His fathers words echoing in the back of your mind — the possibility of loud sex with his son being a reason to kick you out almost makes you laugh.

At this point it would probably be worth it. 

“F-fuck,” you breathe as you lean into the feeling, your eyes flutter closed as you bring Tomura closer. Your peak is so, so close you can almost taste it.

Tomura would tease you any other time. He would try to drag it out in an attempt to see you squirm, but tonight he’s being so kind. He is so generous as he brushes against that spot inside that drives you crazy. He does it over and over again, making your toes curl in pleasure as the euphoric feeling takes you over the edge. 

The elation of your orgasm makes you shiver and cry out, a wave of pleasure crashing over you as you lose yourself in him. 

Tomura presses another kiss to your sweet lips, swallowing your moans as you cum on his fingers, soaking the digits in your slick and trembling in pleasure, 

Once you come down from your high Tomura is quick to remove his clothes and you follow his lead, finally removing your shirt. 

The feeling of his warm chest against yours is always so comforting. It brings a feeling of safety and security as he presses against you, his cock rock hard and dripping from the excitement earlier. 

He places a chaste kiss against your lips as he rubs the head of his cock between your slick folds, the glide is smooth and you gasp every time he brushes against your clit. Your hands find his soft locks again as you begin to move in tandem with his actions, trying to get more of the feeling as best you can. 

At this, Tomura pulls away, kiss swollen lips red and eyes soft, his words hold no bite, “Desperate, huh?” 

You nod, in no mood to tease back and Tomura can tell. He feels it in the way you look at him, so he presses his forehead against yours, his pale locks falling against your cheeks. 

“Again, tell it to me again.”

And you know what he’s talking about. You’re both so close, chest to chest and you swore your hearts were beating in tandem.

“I love you, Tomura.” you whisper and it's for his ears only.

Tomura groans, closing his eyes with a soft grin on his lips.

“Fuck…” he breathes against you, and that’s all it takes as he presses into you. The stretch of his cock makes you wince, but the smooth slick of your arousal helps him slide in with ease. 

You hold on and allow Tomura to anchor you as he pushes forward, desperate to give you everything he can. 

He bottoms out with a sigh, filling you completely as you bite your lip in anticipation — the pressure of feeling full is addictive. It doesn't take Tomura long to move, his eagerness impossible to hide as he pulls back, almost pulling out, and drives forward, rough and desperate.

It’s everything you've wanted and your body is greedy as you take in all of him. 

“Yes, Tomura!” You fight to keep your voice down but it proves impossible as Tomura sets a brutal pace, fucking out every ounce of tension he’s held within for the past few days. You can feel it as it unravels with each and every trust. 

Tomura adjusts ever so slightly and that's all it takes for him to hit that special place inside of you. 

“A-ah!” You moan underneath him, ripples of pleasure cascading up your spine as his sharp assault on your sensitive spot carries on. The consistent sparks of pleasure have your brows furrowed and legs wrapped around his waist, desperate to pull him closer, to feel him deeper. 

“Fuck,” Tomura mumbles and his low tone makes you shiver. 

You know that you won't last much longer if he keeps this up, but you give up trying to hold back. You cannot stop the way your cries spill from your lips, echoing against the walls of Tomura’s bedroom and mixing with the sound of his urgent trusts.

The lewd noises rise as your cunt drips with arousal against Tomura’s push and pull thrusts. His heavy balls slap against your ass with the force of them and you close your eyes, falling into the rhythm. 

You dont expect it when it happens, but it comes all the same — your orgasm takes you under, the overwhelming feeling of ecstasy capturing your mind as your lover fucks you through it. 

He groans at the sensations, the way your cunt squeezes him almost sends him over with you, but he holds on.

Tomura lowers himself, slowing down as you ride out your high and his lips are close to your ear.

“Fuck,” he starts and you feel his hips stutter as he tries to regain his pace, sending you into overstimulation. Tomura knows you can take it — and he can’t stop now. He was so close to his peak. “L-love you.. So much..” 

The words make your eyes widen, they are soft and slow as if unspoken for years and you can’t help but wonder how many. 

“Tomura..” you whisper as you turn your head, craving his lips and his gaze. 

Your eyes meet and you feel synced as you bring a hand down to his cheek, your heart racing as he leans into your touch. 

Yes, you love him. Truly and deeply, you love Tomura. 

He pushes forward, capturing your lips in a kiss as his thrusts grow more erratic, hungry for his own release as he groans against your lips. 

It doesn’t take long — Tomura gives a few more strong thrusts and meets his end, cumming inside of you with a mewl that you drink up. The twitch of his cock is subtle but the pearly white ropes fill you to the brim, leaving you ruined and raw as he pumps it as deeply as he could.

Tomura pulls away from the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. Sweaty and sated you both try to catch your breath. 

His bedroom is quiet and still, making you both feel as though you were the only two in the world. You know that it is deep into the night and Tomura would still have to wake up early in the morning, but you know none of that matters to him.

No, Tomura couldn't care less as shares this moment with you, the stress finally expelled from his body and the weight lifted from his mind. 

His carmine eyes hold you captive as you melt into them and you realize then that you can’t see yourself anywhere but here — with Tomura. 

It's a chilling realization. 

Once you’ve both gathered your bearings and Tomura pulls out — taking his rightful place beside you, the overwhelming pull of sleep drags you along. 

Tomura leans forward, placing a soft kiss onto your forehead with whispers of goodnight and his newly relaxed demeanor is contagious. 

You know that you may be on borrowed time with him here, but that's okay.

Your eyes catch the crumpled flyer hanging near the trashcan by his desk, the words Almighty Medicine big and bold on the paper.

The feeling of sleep is heavy in your body, but your last thoughts are of a plan. 

You know there’s a way out of here. 

For both of you.

[netherfeildren]

Notes On a Virtuous Affair

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude.

He was the experienced one, you the innocent. It should have been different. Maybe it should’ve felt different. And yet, there was something in him that made you feel very much the conquering one, you the baptizing one.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Post outbreak; Jackson Joel Miller; Dom/sub undertones; Rough Sex; Impact Play; Face Slapping; Spanking; PIV sex; Ass Play; Oral Sex (m!receiving); Come Eating; Throat Fucking; Unprotected Sex; Potentially Toxic Dynamics? (haha?); Complicated Feelings; They Love Each Other in Their Own Weird Way, Ok?; Older Man/Younger Woman; Idk What This Is, I Don't Expect You to Either;

A/N: miss you guys, sorry for the disappearing act <3

Word Count: 3.1K

Read on AO3

Notes On a Virtuous Affair

Sunlight spills over everything, and the pastoral green leads you to him. 

One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude. 

But there’s an incongruity afoot here that only you appreciate.

The secret lies in that there’s a riddle woven through the three miles you pilgrim to see him weekly. The first, a boon, the green lush wasteland, if a thing that’s alive can be wasted. The second, an honesty, I’ll venture this distance for him. The third, a precursor, when your muscles start to tingle, your thighs, hot and itchy, nape, coated in a taste of salt. Your feet crunch along the gravel and dirt, protected by the soft leathered boots inherited from Lucy who’d died last Monday. A good start to the week, with new boots, and a thoughtful gift she’d left you, your friend, when your own shoes were so worn from all the walking you do for him. The end of the world changes death, finds good things within it. 

The sun warms the bridge of your nose, and you tip your face up to the too-bright light, trying your hardest to look straight at the intensity of it. He’s very much like this too. Why would you look directly at the sun if not for the hurting it brings? Your palms splayed forward at your sides, the breeze moving through your fingers, and the world is all around you alive in this apocalypse. 

Jackson is left further and further behind as you move towards him, and what no one understands, not even Joel Miller himself, is that there is something virtuous about this affair.

-

“I’m gonna fuck your mouth now,” he says down at you, bare as the day you were born and kneeling before his clothed and towering height. Nothing but the heavy hanging length of his cock is naked for you, the first you’d ever seen in your whole life. If he had his way, the only one you’d ever see for the rest of it. The wide head is slick and glossy, the way it bobs obscenely from his open jeans looking like the weight of it would hurt, the way it juts from the bed of hair at this groin like a threat to you. 

You know now, after all his focused training, that it only hurts him when you don’t tend to it as he needs, that it’s only a threat when you fail to do the same. He’s shown you the rules of hurting, in all these months you’ve come your three promised miles to him time after time. Shown you how it comes easy, that of hurting someone you love. A running in place sort of thing. You know all the steps that will come, the exact spot you’ll tread in. The way to propel yourself forward to finally leave that same place, avoid it, if you want. 

“Open wider. Won’t fit like that,” he clicks his tongue, voice a burr as he grips his throbbing flesh and with the other too big hand, also like a seeming threat, but not, he gives you a quick, softly stinging slap to the high of your cheekbone. The sound, fast and snapping like his disapproving tongue. You swallow a moan, looking up at him with that look in your eyes you know disturbs him, adoration, letting the hinges of your jaw go loose, saliva pooling beneath the cover of your tongue. “Don’t you want me?” He asks. 

And you blink once, moan crossing the bridge to a laugh if your mouth wasn’t stretched wide as it’ll go. He sees it though, skipping water in your eyes and gives that half smile, the mean one, the one that says he has all the answers in the world, knows all the things there are to know, that one you like best. Good girl, and his voice makes no sound, only the shape of the words on his mouth. You haven’t been good enough yet to hear the real thing of them out loud. This tells you that you must apply yourself to the task at hand, making him come. 

One heavy tap to the flat of your tongue sticking out for him first, and then he’s slicking that fat head against the surface, giving you the first real taste, salt and musk trickle down the back of your throat and you moan again, eyes screwing shut tight, cunt aching something fierce. Leaking just like the tip of his cock leaks too. 

That’s the thing about this thing, the one you see very well and Joel still fails to. The two of you, as disparate as you might seem, are the same in all the basic but most important ways. Too much in common for him to look at in the eye comfortably and still do the things you do. 

“Open your throat. Get me hard.” In your head, he calls you baby. In reality, only sometimes, when you’re extra good, does that happen. But in your imagination, where it matters more, he doesn't ask nice, but you are his baby. 

He slides back, back, hits the end of your throat, pulls out against the wet heat of your tongue. You keep your jaw wide until you feel him harden entirely, until he stretches his neck back, tendons jumping stark, clench of his jaw fluttering with a choked groan. “Suck me,” your permission to savor him like you need to. 

Hands pressed firmly to your bare knees, not digging at your soft wet like you’d like, or pawing at him as you’d like even more, you close your lips around him, cheeks hollowed and suck hard, tonguing at his slit on the pull back so that he’s bearing his teeth at you in a growl and shoving forward again hard, a snarl as the cinch of your tight throat strangles the head of his cock on every one of your swallows. Your eyes water, but he pets softly at the same spot he’d stung earlier with his slap. 

A game you used to play with your siblings, who could slap one another harder until the other gave out. It’d taken a while for you to come to the realization, but eventually, you’d realized the memory of it in your mind as it exists now wasn’t innocent the way it should’ve been. That there had been something you’d liked about it in a strange way—that hurting. That the first time you’d asked Joel to play the same game with you, you’d wanted him to slap you other places just as hard until you gave out also. 

The games were part of the thing. His own strange rules, like the way you couldn’t touch him sometimes—you dig your bitten down nails into the soft skin of your inner thighs—only when he said it was okay was it allowed. The way you were never allowed to touch your cunt unless he said so also. He had weird things about him, turned strange by the dangerous ways of life. Like the solitude, the house out and away, the begging you had to do for him to have you. 

Sameness. 

He wraps his fist in your hair, more sting, “Gonna fill your belly with my come, yeah?” His thrusts pick up pace, pulling your head back as far as your neck allows so that he can fuck your throat in full, jaw hanging wide, and you’re just the wet and willing hole you know he sometimes wishes you could always stay as. 

The thick cock against your tongue throbs once, twice and then he’s spilling hot and heavy down your open throat, sweet salt against the back of your tongue while you try and breathe through his strangling, tears spilling.

When he pulls back, slipping wet and heavy from your mouth you fall forward onto your palms, breathing fast, almost hyperventilating, stinging with the forced will to remain obedient. Your spine burns beneath your skin and your sore jaw hangs unwillingly open, sloppy mouth dripping a string of semen between your splayed palms. 

He crouches before you, dripping cock like your mouth, milked to heavy softness hangs long and sated between his thighs. And he pets your crown, the vulnerable shell of your ear, whole body on fire so that every inch of skin hurts without his touch, hurts worse with it. 

“Good girl,” he says now with voice. 

-

The walk seems longer some days. A thousand miles plus an eon instead of merely three. Especially on the days you’re more desperate than usual. The ones when your stomach feels full of sugar for him and the memory taste of his cock is already aching in your molars. Those days your steps are hurried, look in your eyes frenzied to get to him, to escape the things you leave behind. A too full house, your sister’s squalling, teething baby, your little brothers, and too many mouths to feed and not attention to be had, not enough mother for everyone to get loved. 

There’s reasons for this game between the two of you, you’d had to come out and find your attention somewhere else. 

Your love too. 

And if it comes with a sting sometimes, well, so had your mother’s. You like it like this now. 

The first time he’d touched your cunt: show me that pretty pussy, baby, and he’d had you from that very first sweet word, you gonna let me finger it? You’d spread wide, leaked into the cup of his palm like a whore, you’d needed to make sure he was for keeping from the first try, you see. So you’d done all he’d said, taken four fingers and only cried a little bit but whined a lot. Been all, hurts, Joel, high pitched and dragging his name out on a puppy whimper. 

He’d given you that first lesson in hurt the very first time: Yeah? Supposed to. A real mean man. And then made you gush into that very cupped palm so that he could drink of your sweetness. 

He was the experienced one, you the innocent. It should have been different. Maybe it should’ve felt different. And yet, there was something in him that made you feel very much the conquering one, you the baptizing one. 

The third mile comes to an end, the precursor, over, his house in view. It’s all quiet and slumbering and the long grass pulls you forward with its wind blown sway. The wide door to his shed is propped open, half finished rocking chair up on the workbench that sways with the intruding gust. The grass whispers behind you, the dark woods across the field moan, and he’s nowhere while the Tetons loom in the distance. 

You drag your fingers along the slats of his house as you pass, everything is so quiet, like he’d never been here. Like he’d gone and left you the way he’s promised he’d never do. Your belly feels bloated with heat, heart turned into four incongruous chambers that no longer beat in tune, memories of him rioting between each thump. Your cunt goes soft and drooling in your panties as your fear beats higher and higher, and you come to the mouth of the shed, peering into the cool darkness of this little place where he makes his beautiful things. The things that go into people’s homes to be used by people’s families to be stored in people’s memories.

The gleam of the sun does not cross the threshold, and you brace your palms on either side of the wide door, the air thrums and he’s not here—yet—you slide the toe of Lucy’s old boot across the border of sunlight into sanctuary and peek your closed-eyed face into the shade right before you’re taken bodily to the ground by his heavy weight. Palms catching splinters, his strong chest heaves into the line of your spine, strong arm at your waist to pull your breath from your lungs and your legs from under you. 

He forces you belly first to the ground, other hand circling your throat in the imitation of a strangle lest you lose yourself and decide to struggle for the first time ever. But you dig your fingernails into the dirt, scratching for purchase in preparation of what’s about to come, all the fight going out of you; body, half in shadow, half in sunlight. Your bones feel salt bleached. An over abundance of sodium in the blood that renders you catatonic for him.

He nuzzles soft at your nape while his hand shoves under your dress, ripping your underwear down your legs so that the elastic cuts into your tender skin to hurt. All incongruous movement, this man is. 

“Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to go creepin’ ‘round strange men’s homes?” His voice is so deep, drawled, broken up into different notes of lust and anger and temerity. All the strange things that make Joel Miller up. 

Yeah, you sigh into the dirt. “Told me exactly how it’d go for me if I did.”

You hitch your rump up then, presenting your cunt for fucking. The breeze doesn’t do half to soothe the throbbing wet. The sort of ache that’ll only be fixed by something heavy inside the hurting place. The sound of his belt quiets the disparate chambers, the beat in your ears of rushing blood is uniform now, there’ll be a wet spot in the shape of you in the dirt when he’s through. You lift your hips higher, knees scraped rough as you spread wider, face pressed to the ground and your fingers are well and burrowed in their little gouges now. 

He smacks the heft of it against you asshole, spits and presses a little. He likes to scare you sometimes. Nooo, Joel, all whining stutter, but with your back arching deeper like a little babied liar; you don’t mind where he puts it, only that he puts it somewhere.

“Hush,” he soothes all nice, spanks your ass once all not— “Gonna teach you a lesson.” And shoves inside, bumping against your womb on the first try, stretching your hole too wide, too quick. And there’s no prep, no qualm. No need to hesitate when you own a thing. You swallow your animal cry, ah ah ah, you want to hear how good you’ve been out loud. He grips your hips tight enough to bruise which is what you know he wants and fucks hard and fast, each swing whistles with ownership. 

He fucks you in the dirt like an animal, and this affair is virtuous. 

He teaches you the truth about hurting, about ownership, about so many things that only a man like Joel Miller could teach a girl like you. And all the while he tells you that you’re too pretty to take such an ugly fucking. 

The way he works your cunt, hungry, balls swinging wet so that they sting like his slaps, tip battering hard so that it aches like gratitude. 

These are the things three miles give you. A whole man to teach you about the whole world. 

The slick squelch of your overwhelmed cunt sounds loud, no more disparate heartbeat, no more green grassed whispers. Only the sound of his grunting above you like an animal remains. “You’re the perfect little cunt. You know that, baby?” There it is, you sigh. Start to tremble around him like that, like his good baby that you are, desperate flutters, little gash being fucked into obedience like you need. Your overwhelmed pants make little dirt dream clouds before your eyes as you start to come for him, crying his name, crying your love, crying that you’re so, so thankful. 

“Don’t stop, Joel. Not yet.” And he loves it when you beg, loves it when your cunt pulls tight like a knot.  

“Not yet,” he promises because he might be a real mean man, but he loves you like separating salt from blood.

Complicated and precise. 

When he’s through with you, there’s sunlight spilling over everything again. It’s journey goes on and on, and his semen drips from your cunt now. He turns gentle, thrusting still, making sure it’s fucked deep, pulsing in time with your own throb. Rhythms merge between the two of you. 

His rules are strange, his claims over you equally mysterious. He won’t say things out loud, won’t let you touch any real part of him, but his strange truths ring loud anyways, and when your heart isn’t disjointed, you hear him perfectly well. 

When he lays you out bare and trembling across his messy bed, the groaned pains of his age and rutting in the dirt like an animal sound from him as he drapes himself alongside you. Large and hairy, feet hanging off the end of the bed, entirely real with one knee propped up so that his thick cock lays heavy and soft over the swell of his belly. Your heart beats soft and overfull now. 

You watch the sun set across the planes of his chest and bask in the blue dark as the night draws breath around you. The work of meting out obedience to little girls who come searching for it is toiling, and you watch him melt into sleep, but right before he’s just gone away from you, with a single finger petting at the jut of the old broken bone in his shoulder, your whispered plea: Will you give me a falseness? You don’t call it a lie. This is a virtuous thing, after all.

Lies aren’t allowed in this house. 

He breathes a deep sigh, and you watch the fan of his long lashes sweep open, staring up at the shadowed rafters of his home. You swear you can see each and every individual whisker in his thick beard, dark and gray dispersed throughout. You see every single detail. 

He’d told you once there were ghosts here, in this house, and you’d learned later it wasn’t a lie. This became more and more obvious the more you got to know him. 

He stares up at them now. 

When he’d taken your virginity, when it’d left you the way you’d always imagined it would, covered in tears and blood and semen, you’d made that promise to each other. That you wouldn't lie, that he’d have all of you, that you’d not touch all of him. The ghost lay beside you in the damp bed of your lost innocence that day. It’d been just so ever since and over many miles of three you’d come to appreciate the realities of it. Who could be more connected than two people who always tell each other their truths exactly as they are?

“Give me a falseness,” you say again, not a lie. 

“A good kind of a bad kind?”

You flip a mind’s coin, wish you could see the exact ghosts he sees— “Bad.”

He turns to look at you, this half smile he wears is your second favorite one now, the honest one, and it’s all there for you to see. All the disparate chambers of Joel, just like your heart beating in your ears. You suppose the ghosts don’t matter then. 

“I don’t love you.”

And you nod solemn. Bad, like a whisper, like your game. 

You smile back, the one you know he likes best, the one that looks like his.

Netherfeildren’s Masterlist

Updates Blog

[aikya-kat-44]

Wtf Ao3 😭

Why are people shipping Odysseus and THE FREAKING CYCLOPS.

I swear this one is the precursor to the manwhore au

[sunshinehaze1]

Unwrapped

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (f. Marcus Acacius & Lucilla Aurelius)

Summary: You attend your friend Lucilla's annual holiday party and meet someone new.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI. Modern AU, no outbreak or battles in the colosseum, meet-cute, fingering, unprotected PiV (do better), creampie, no use of y/n

a/n: This is my Secret Santa gift for my beautiful friend @ak-vintage. Her Pedro faves are Joel, Marcus A., and Din. I hope you like it, Ash! ❤️ and that you'll forgive me for not elaborating further on the party bathroom smut 🤭 tysm to @80ssong for the beta! 🥰 and big time thanks to @pr3ttynpiink for organizing! ❤️

word count: 4,386

ao3 | ml

As you walk up the driveway, you admire the lights trailing along the edges of Marcus and Lucilla's house. They live in a large, luxurious home decked in over-the-top opulence. Roman columns frame the front porch, wrapped in garland and accented with gold bows and lighting. Glittery white lights perfectly line the edges of the house, and more are draped meticulously over the immaculately trimmed shrubs. Their house practically lights up the whole neighborhood. It's hard to imagine their electric bill; you're thankful you don't have to pay it.

You met Lucilla earlier this year while volunteering at the local food bank. You decided to volunteer to meet people after moving to the area recently. Lucilla comes from money; her father was the CEO of a local business, and she inherited a large amount of money when he passed. So she has plenty of free time to give back to those in the community who are less fortunate.

After one of your volunteer shifts, Lucilla invited you for coffee. You found her to be surprisingly down to earth. It's not typical of your experience with people who come from money and have had things handed to them. She's very grounded and wise. You quickly became friends, and she's like the big sister you never had. She has at least a decade on you, and you've often turned to her for advice as you assimilate to Austin. It's comforting to have a support system in the area.

You've been invited to her beautiful home for dinners numerous times and met her handsome husband, Marcus. He's around Lucilla's age with soft, greying curls, always perfectly coifed. His face is framed with Romanesque features and a prominent nose. Having retired a couple of years ago as a general in the Army, he still maintains a thick, sturdy physique that offers an intimidating presence. He's anything but. You've only seen him as soft, gentle, and welcoming. You've spent enough time with them that you've been able to observe their relationship quietly, and it's nothing short of "relationship goals." You hope to find a loving relationship like theirs for yourself one day.

They throw these holiday parties every year, and this is your first time attending. You're bound to have a great time based on what you've heard about past years' parties. And you look forward to meeting new people. Who knows, maybe you'll meet someone.

Lucilla and Marcus go all out. The outdoor decorations were only a precursor to what awaits you inside. It looks like a Christmas store blew up. Garland is wrapped around the staircase banister and the fireplace mantle with perfectly placed ornaments. Every door frame is adorned with mistletoe dangling over the threshold, waiting for unsuspecting guests to pass through. Santas and snowmen of varying sizes sit on tables and shelves. Silvery snowflakes decorate the walls, and you spot not one but three different Christmas trees. Each has its own theme.

The expansive kitchen island has a beautiful spread of charcuterie, wines, and liquors and a punch bowl of spiked egg nog; holiday songs, clinking glasses, and the smell of mulled cider waft through the air.

--

Joel is a good sport. He's not a fan of large gatherings. He'd much rather hang out in the backyard with a beer, catching up with his brother. Or when Sarah was still at home, a night on the couch watching a movie. Nights that would end with Sarah falling asleep halfway through the movie and Joel carrying her upstairs to bed. With his reserved nature, he tends to be a wallflower at parties and a quiet observer. This one, which his employee, Marcus, invited him to, is no different.

He's found himself in a corner, making small talk with another partygoer who, unfortunately, found out what Joel does and has since been bending his ear about house renovations. Joel spots you as you walk through the door, ignoring the man in front of him, who continues to prattle on how he can't decide which faucet to place in his half bath.

Joel finds himself gawking at you. You're a vision in your eggplant velvet wrap dress with a satin sash tied into a bow on the side of your waist. The dress hugs every curve of your body, with a skirt that falls to your mid-thigh, providing Joel a view of your shapely legs. The dress's neckline cuts into a deep v, hinting at what's underneath. You're a fucking knockout.

He observes as you juggle a wrapped gift box for the white elephant exchange and a hostess gift in your other hand. It's a lavender-scented candle. You've noticed Lucilla wears the scent often. You greet Lucilla with a hug and kiss on the cheek. Offering her a wide, glowing smile. Oh god, you're beautiful. Joel is shaken from his enamored haze when the sound of broken glass interrupts his thoughts. He must find a way to talk to you before he leaves tonight.

--

Over the last hour or so, you've had a chance to meet everyone at the party—neighbors, family friends, Marcus's old Army buddies, and their spouses. All of them were very nice, but the small talk was exhausting, so you're thankful when you hear Lucilla quiet the guests with a shout, "ALRIGHT EVERYONE TO THE LIVING ROOM! It's time for the gift exchange."

You enter the living room and look for a place to sit. Various chairs are lined up around the couches, almost all already taken. You decide to remain standing rather than scramble to find an open seat.

While Lucilla explains the rules, a basket with small pieces of folded-up paper is passed around the room, with numbers 1-30 written on each. You select yours and pass it to the man beside you; rough fingers graze your hand as you complete the handoff. He thanks you, and you turn to get a better look at the owner of the deep, gravelly voice.

You're struck by how ruggedly handsome he is. A sharp nose, plush lips, and patchy facial hair sprinkled with greys. He's wearing a crisp light blue button-up and dark jeans that hug him just right. It seems you haven't met everyone at the party yet. How did he escape your notice?

He catches you staring, "What number did ya get?"

"Um…" you look down at your paper, "29. How about you?"

"Looks like I got lucky tonight," he turns his piece of paper around to show you, "30." He winks.

Uh oh. He's handsome and charming. You're in trouble.

"Name's Joel. How do you know Marcus and Lucilla?"

You introduce yourself and tell him about your volunteer work and how you met Lucilla. "And you?"

"Marcus works for me." Your surprised reaction amuses him, and he continues. "After he retired, he was looking for part-time work to keep himself busy. I own a contracting business."

That explains his rugged appearance and calloused hands. You take in his broad shoulders and biceps, which cause the seams of his shirt to work overtime to stay together. Lucilla interrupts your thoughts, "OK, now that everyone has their number, we'll go ahead and get started!"

A woman named Simone starts things off. After selecting a gift from under the tree, she tears the wrapping paper to reveal a cat-shaped ice cube tray. The crowd erupts in laughter when she shows it around the room. It's not a very appealing gift, which likely means she'll be stuck with it. You doubt anyone will want to "steal" it from her, but at least it has practical use. 

The game continues with half the participants taking their turn. Lucilla's son, Lucius, is next. You met him briefly when Lucilla introduced you earlier. He's in town to spend the holidays with his mother. After over a decade apart, he reconnected with Lucilla a few years ago. The relationship is still in repair but moving in the right direction. You know how important it is to Lucilla to have him here.

You haven't gotten the full story from Lucilla, but you know it's a sensitive subject for her, so you've never pressed too hard. You've left the door open for her to share if and when she's ready. He and Marcus seem to have an agreeable relationship and get along fine, which you're happy to see. Stepparent and stepchild relationships can be pretty fraught. He's a handsome kid who resembles Lucilla, but you think he inherited most of his looks from his father.

Lucius takes his turn and decides to steal a gift that was already stolen, securing it himself. The game continues as the room works through the numbers. A steady din of laughter echoes through the room as the exchange becomes more cutthroat. It's all in good fun, though.

Finally, it's your turn. You walk over to the tree where two gifts remain. One is a box covered in teal wrapping paper with a gold diamond pattern and embellished with a twine ribbon. The other one is a tall, slender gift bag that is the perfect size to hold a bottle of wine. You choose the box and return to your spot next to Joel.

All eyes in the room are now on you as you unwrap the gift. Pulling the paper away, you squeal when you see it's a Funko Pop figure. You try to remain calm when you remove the rest of the paper and recognize it is The Mandalorian and Grogu.

This is a score, and you can't believe your luck. You love Star Wars, especially The Mandalorian. And it's not just because you have a crush on the actor who plays him. You love the storytelling and the world-building. This isn't something you'd buy for yourself, but you'll proudly display it in your home. With Joel as the last person left, you hope your brief interaction with him has earned you enough favor that he won't steal your gift.

However, you don't know that Joel and his daughter watch The Mandalorian over Facetime every Sunday night. It's a way for them to stay connected now that she's miles away. They're on their third rewatch, and he treasures these nights with his daughter. He eyes the Funko Pop in your hand and thinks Sarah would get a kick out of this cute figure. Even if he has no clue what a Funko is.

Joel hems and haws, trying to decide if he should go for the last gift under the tree, which he suspects is a bottle of wine. He wouldn't have much use for it as he's more of a beer guy. Or steal your gift and potentially derail any opportunity he may have had to get to know you better. After a few moments of quiet deliberation, he opts to steal.

You huff in defeat, bummed that you lost out on your gift, and hand the box over to Joel. You know it's all in good fun, and Joel had no malicious intent behind his decision. You retrieve the last gift from under the tree, confirming your suspicion of what was inside.

After the gift exchange is complete, the guests disperse throughout the house. You're looking over the wine's label when you feel an elbow nudge your bicep. Your attention turns to Joel, who has a sheepish look. "Sorry for that. My daughter and I love The Mandalorian. We watch it together every Sunday night while she's away at school," he sighs.

Now, how can you be upset about that? Of course, he had a heartwarming reason behind his decision to steal. "Oh, it's no big deal. I'm just happy he's going to a good home."

Joel chuckles. "Would you like a drink?"

You nod and follow him into the kitchen.

--

With your cup of eggnog, you settle at a threshold out of the way of party traffic. He tells you more about the contracting business he owns with his younger brother. You share more about yourself and how you moved to Austin for a job opportunity. He's incredibly handsome, and you get lost in his brown eyes. His quiet confidence and sense of humor are extremely sexy.

Joel recounts a time when his brother screwed up an order for a job. He ordered the incorrect size of lumber and set the project back a week. Joel took over placing orders after that. He shares his hunch that his brother purposefully messed up the order, so he no longer has to do it.

His retelling is endearing. Through it, you get a good sense of his love for his brother, but as with most sibling relationships, some things drive him crazy. You can relate.

A silence falls between you two for the first time since you began talking. You're not even sure how much time has passed. However, it's been long enough to cause a crick in your neck since you've had to look up at Joel this whole time. You tilt your head, rolling it back and forth to stretch it out. When you open your eyes, you're frozen as you realize where you and Joel have been standing. Your chest begins to warm at the implication of where this could lead.

Joel follows your gaze to see what's caught your attention. He gulps when he spots the leafy instigator. His palms sweat as he straightens, and you make eye contact.

The warmth in your chest has moved up your neck as Joel's eyes lock with yours. The swirl of the party moves around you two, and you feel frozen in time. At this moment, it is just you and Joel. A soft smile appears on his face. "Welp. Do you know what this means?"

You swallow, take a deep breath, and offer an inviting smile. "It can only mean one thing."

Joel leans in. You feel his hot breath as his face nears yours. This sweet, funny, handsome man is about to kiss you, and you remind yourself to breathe. His index finger lifts your chin toward him, his lips brushing over yours. It feels like hours have ticked by at this standstill when only seconds have passed. But your patience still wears thin, "Well…what are you waiting for?"

Joel laughs and finally closes the distance. His lips capture yours in a chaste kiss, aware you are not alone. You press your lips to his and let out a soft moan. The sparks you've only read about in novels start to fly, butterflies flutter around in your stomach, and you see fireworks shooting off behind your eyelids. You keep them shut out of fear that you'll wake up from a dream if you don't.

You blink back as you pull yourself away from Joel. Knocked on your ass over a kiss. If his kiss can feel like that, you can only imagine what more would feel like. And you would love to find out.

Wide-eyed, you coo, "That was a really good kiss."

Joel nods, brushing his thumb along his bottom lip. "Yeah, I wouldn't mind doing that again."

"Me either," you giggle, feeling bold, "and maybe more?"

Joel quickly grabs your hand, determination in his eyes, "Follow me."

--

There's no shortage of privacy in a house of this size. The large amount of guests allows you and Joel to sneak off unnoticed. With your hand in his, he pulls you behind him in search of a more conspicuous location. At the end of the hall, you spot an open door that leads to a beautifully appointed bathroom: marble countertops, travertine tile, and a glass-enclosed shower with a waterfall showerhead. Large mirrors with an intricately designed gold frame sit over each sink. This is just the guest bathroom?!

He whips you around to face him and pulls you in for a kiss, not chaste this time. This kiss is brimming with passion. A mix of tongues dancing around, exploring each other's mouths. Playful nibbles leave their marks on each other's lips.

Your palms flatten against his firm chest, and you grip the lapels of his shirt and yank it open. The top buttons fly across the counter's surface and bounce every which way—ping, ping, ting—until they land flat on the surface. Hiding your giggle behind your hand, you look up at Joel apologetically. "Hey! I liked this shirt!" he bemused.

You walk your fingers up his now bare sternum and pinch his chin mischievously. "Oops, my bad!"

"Oh, you're fucking trouble, aren't you?!"

"Only one way to find out," you tease.

"Oh, honey, you bet your sweet ass I will." His hands caress your waist and hips, enjoying the feel of the velvet over your soft curves. "But first, I want you to see how gorgeous you are." He kisses you before he turns you to face the mirror.

Joel stands tall behind you. His hands roam along your body when he captures your gaze. With pleading eyes, he asks, "Can I unwrap my gift now?"

You nod. He pulls down the neckline of your dress and frees your tits from the cups of your bra. You let out a small gasp. He looks at you in the mirror while he kneads them, tweaking your nipples between his thumb and index finger. He nuzzles into your neck and ascends with featherlight kisses to your earlobe, and whispers, "You're so fucking gorgeous."

With a gentle squeeze of your breasts, "gorgeous tits." His husky voice sends a shiver down your spine.

One of his hands moves down your body. His fingertips trail up the back of your bare thigh and underneath your skirt to your ass. A sly grin appears on his face when he doesn't feel any fabric impeding his exploration. You decided to wear a thong tonight to avoid panty lines with the way the fabric of the dress clings to your figure. With a firm squeeze of your bare cheek, "gorgeous ass."

You whimper at his attention and praise, overwhelmed by his adoration of your body. Both hands make their way to your neck, and he turns your face toward him, "gorgeous lips," and he devours you in a toe-curling kiss.

He hisses when your ass backs into him in response. His hardened cock straining the front of his jeans. You suck in your breath, apologetically, "I'm so sorry."

He chuckles, "It's ok, baby." He brushes his lips over your nose and tilts back with a glint in his eye, "You can make it up to me."

You quirk your eyebrow, "oh yeah, how so?"

He doesn't answer you. Silently, he grips your hips to turn you back to face the mirror. He grabs your hands and places your palms flat on the cool marble. He watches your tits bounce in the mirror and feels his cock get impossibly harder. "Stay. Just like this."

You feel the arousal pool in your belly at his command. His hands travel down the sides of your thighs and up under the skirt of your dress. His fingers slip under the elastic band of your thong, and you hear the lace fabric rip.

He slides a calloused finger through your slick lips. A growl escapes him as he feels how wet you are. "This pussy's just drenched for me, isn't she?"

You whimper out a strangled "yes." Overwhelmed by the feel of his thick fingers through your folds, teasing your entrance and brushing against your clit.

Finally, he shows mercy and slides a finger inside you. You clench around his thick digit as he enters you to his last knuckle, his fingertip reaching that spongy spot just right, sending an intense wave of pleasure through your body.

He leans forward, his whole chest pressed against your back. The heat from his body envelopes you. His husky voice vibrates in your ear, "Fucking dripping."

You groan when Joel pulls his finger out to taste you. "Such a sweet fucking pussy. I can't wait to make a whole meal out of her."

He breaches you again with two fingers, and you buck forward at the pleasurable stretch. He begins to thumb against your clit while his two fingers thrust inside you at a steady pace.

"Fuck. I can't wait to get you out of here. I want to take my time with you. The things I want to do."

"Tell…" breathless, "…me."

"I want to eat your pussy until your legs shake." he continues his exploration of your cunt. "Suck on your perfect tits. Fold you in half while I fuck into you until you scream my name."

"Yes, fuck…Joel, I want all of that." Your imagination is running wild at his ideas, the tension is building, and you're ready to snap.

"You'll get it, but I need you to come for me, darlin'." Desperation in his voice, "My cock needs to be inside this perfect pussy."

His words were all you needed to push you over the edge. You brace yourself on the counter as your orgasm moves through you, your walls fluttering around his fingers.

As you come down from your high, Joel quickly unfastens his jeans and lowers them along with his boxer briefs, releasing his throbbing cock. You feel his length bop against your ass. His fingers run through your pussy to coat his dick with your arousal. He lazily strokes his dick while bunching up the skirt of your dress over your waist with his other hand.

His palm runs over your bare ass cheek and slowly navigates your curves to your other cheek. You whimper when he pulls his palm away, already missing the warmth of his skin against yours. The unexpected strike of his palm causes you to jolt forward with a whine.

"Fuck! This is a juicy ass," he growls as his fingers dig into your flesh.

"Do it again. Harder." you pant.

You catch his devilish grin in the mirror as he lifts his arm with a flattened palm. The din of the party muffles the sound of it moving through the air before it lands on your other cheek. Harder. Just like you asked. You feel another wave of arousal rush through you.

"Oh, baby. We're going to have so much fun."

Joel takes his cock and runs the tip through your folds, You haven't seen it, but you can feel it's big as he teases your entrance with just the tip. Your mouth begins to water as you fantasize about taking him between your lips, the heavy weight of it on your tongue as you take him down your throat.

You're so distracted by the thought of choking on his dick that you yelp in surprise when his cock enters you with a forceful thrust; his pelvis slams into your luscious cheeks.

"Oh, she's fucking…" Joel pants, "she's fucking, tight."

He begins a steady pace of fucking you. His hands gripping your hips, fingertips digging in with a bruising force.

He reaches around your waist to rub your clit while he continues a relentless pace. Your walls clenching around him. Breaths increase, and your chest is slick with sweat. His thrusts push you into the counter, driving into you while he rubs your clit. The marble cooling your heated chest. "C'mon, baby. I feel you squeezing me. Let go for me."

You wail out his name as your climax takes hold. He pulls you up against his chest, his hand cupping your breast as he fucks you through your orgasm. Hot breath against your ear as he seeks his release. You wrap your hand around his neck and pull his head toward you. Your lips brush against his ear, and with a whisper, eyes fixed on him in the mirror so you can see his reaction, "Fill me up. I want to feel you dripping out of me."

Joel whimpers. He fucking, whimpers. He's at the precipice of his orgasm and grasps onto your tit tighter. You squeak at the pressure. One. Two. Three more thrusts before he spills into you, drenching your pussy with his seed.

His forehead collapses onto the back of your shoulder; his labored breathing begins to even out. When he looks up, your eyes meet his in the mirror. You both are completely fucked out. Half dressed, tits hanging out, disheveled hair, smeared lipstick. He leans back to get a good look at his spend leaking from your pussy. A boyish grin expands on his face into a toothy smile as he pushes his cum back inside with his finger. "Gotta keep my gift wrapped up."

You roll your eyes and laugh.

Joel grabs a clean washcloth from the towel bar and runs it under warm water. He gently runs the damp cloth over your inner thighs and sensitive folds, cleaning himself before tossing the washcloth in the hamper.

You notice it's after midnight, and you'll need to get home soon—even though you don't want the night to end. You both scramble to dress. Joel stops short when he realizes he can't button his shirt back up all the way. He looks around to find the loose buttons on the counter and pockets them. Softly, you brush his forearm and coo, "I can sew those back on for you."

He winks and kisses the tip of your nose. "Worth it."

--

You accept Joel's offer to walk you to your car, but not before you say your goodbyes. The two of you part to find Lucilla and Marcus to thank them for the party.

When you find Joel again, he guides you toward the door, holding his gift in one hand and the other against the small of your back. He leans toward your ear and teases, "We'll need to discuss visitation arrangements." shaking the figurine in the air.

You playfully swat his chest at his teasing.

You and Joel are unaware that Marcus and Lucilla are watching this exchange from afar. Lucilla turns to Marcus and wonders, "Now, why didn't we think to set those two up? They're perfect together."

"It doesn't look like they needed our help anyway." Marcus wraps his arm around his wife and kisses her temple. "Another successful holiday party, my lady."

Lucilla rests her head on his shoulder and lets out an exhausted but contented sigh. "Until next year, my love."

--

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to know what you think. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏻

I've got an idea brewing to revisit these two (four)...if I get a wild hair, I may take a swing at it. 😏

npt for folks who were interested in this WIP: @baronessvonglitter @kilamonster @half-moon16 @peepawispunk

[cherry-burst]

Sylus x F! MC “My Fire In Your Blood.”

Alternate Universe | Dragon Shifter!Sylus

Love and Deepspace

Tags: Smut 18+ mdni | Dubcon | Size Difference | Biting/Marking | Outdoor Sex | Primal | Monster Fking | Telepathy | Monster Romance | 

WC: ~10,400k Words

Read On AO3

Summary: In a world overrun by dragons that invaded the planet from a portal in the sky, humanity's survival is a daily struggle. Cities crumble amidst the chaos and destruction of these feral beasts. However, one encounter with a dragon changes her perspective forever as the massive beast transforms into a human-like man and forges an everlasting bond with her.

Disclaimer: I wrote this BEFORE it was canon that he’s a literal dragon (I am still trying to process that!!!) so this has nothing to do with his myth. It’s a ‘dragon shifter’ fic with my own kinda lore. Also, he only has one dick. Please forgive me for my transgressions. 

A distant roar echoed through the afternoon sky prompting her and her traveling companions to seek shelter immediately. The dragons were known to cover miles of ground in only a few minutes so the group only had a short time to hide. 

She quickly extinguished the campfire, kicking dirt onto the red embers. Everyone stuffed their provisions into their bags and began helping others pack up their supplies. They worked like a well oiled machine, and in no time the campsite was dismantled. Their runner returned from their mission to find shelter and announced there was a cave not too far away with plenty of room to house everyone for the night. 

“Do you think it will even come this deep into the forest?” Tara asked her, an overstuffed backpack slouched over her shoulder.

She shrugged, her own bag heavy in her arms. “They can be unpredictable. So, who knows.” 

The group began walking through the forest towards the cave. It was estimated to be about a five minute walk so they didn’t have too far to go to safety. The dragons, though a constant presence in their everyday life, had yet to pose an immediate threat to them in the forest. 

The massive beasts usually flew in groups on the distant side of the valley beyond the ridge. This allowed the survivors to seek shelter under the humid canopy to gain some semblance of safety. They needed to hide though, since the dragons had an uncanny way of finding them out in the open despite the dense trees. They assumed it was scent because they couldn’t even stay in one place for too long lest they wake to a massacre of massive dragons devouring their friends and burning everything they own.

As the group approached the cave, a sound of wooshing air reached her ears, stirring her hair all around her face. Another roar, an all too familiar precursor to attacks, sent her heart into a state of panic. The dragon’s arrival was heralded by a massive shadow blocking the sun pitting their patch of forest into darkness all around them. An icy chill ran through her veins, propelling her into a frantic sprint toward the cave with the other survivors. Several people began to cry and scream while others left their gear behind on the forest floor to lighten their race to safety.

“It’s here!” Someone shouted. “Get inside, now!” 

Inhaling deeply, she surged forward pumping her arms with determination to the cave’s entrance. Another abrupt, ear piercing, roar caused her to stumble forward, fear making her limbs freeze up. Even one second of time loss meant death, she knew this. On the ground, she instinctively covered her head with her arms, bracing herself for the potential inferno that was sure to come. 

Only one set of wings flapped, which was odd. The dragon was alone despite them always traveling in packs. When there was no breath of fire to barbeque her alive, she hurried to her feet and began her sprint again. The rush of air from its flapping wings seemed to propel her forward along with a surge of adrenalin. She glanced around looking for the other survivors only to find herself utterly alone. Panic raced through her anew as her desperate gaze continued to seek someone, anyone. 

Betrayal cracked her heart into pieces. Being abandoned was practically a death sentence in these perilous times. The panic from the dragon's proximity must have sent people rushing in all directions, leaving her behind.

Tossing her heavy bag on the ground, she opted to take her chances and bolt toward the cave. She hoped that some survivors managed to make it so she wouldn’t be completely alone in this world. Her calves screamed in protest as she gained on the rock formation. A resounding thud behind her along with the earth shaking made her trip and fall again. She hissed as tree roots scraped her knees. Her teeth clamped on her lip to stifle any noise she may have made as a result of the fall.

The deep booming exhalation sound behind her caused her lungs to seize. The colossal presence loomed just at her back making its very existence feel like a weight on her shoulders. The entire forest fell into an eerie kind of quiet as if the very trees were holding their breath.

She remained immobilized by fear, unable to glance back at her soon-to-be killer. Her hands pressed against the ground began to tremble as the beast made a huff followed by a long sniff. She’d never encountered a dragon this close before. Her imagination conjured up an image of the creature, approximating its snout alone to be the size of a car. 

With a menacing snarl, it beat its colossal wings. Leaves whirled in the air and branches broke off the trees, falling and cracking when they hit the ground. She swallowed over her parched throat, her hands growing numb from holding her up in the same position for so long. 

Silence stretched for a long moment. She decided that now was the time to steal a glance at it. If these were her final moments, she wanted to quench her curiosity of what one looked like up close even if she wouldn’t be around to tell the tale. Yet, the instant her gaze landed on the creature, a wave of regret washed over her. 

The dragon was massive, much larger than her brain anticipated. A muscular, spiked monstrosity shrouded in sharp garnet scales loomed behind her. A single talon, the size of her entire body, was more than enough to eviscerate her. Her stomach twisted as her head slowly moved up its towering body, straining to see its face. A gasp escaped her lips when she locked eyes with its large slit-shaped pupils, their attention laser focused on her alone. Its eyes were a deep red, piercing through her very being with its intense gaze. They seemed to be set ablaze, glowing brighter, the second her eyes met them.

She recoiled as its maw parted, a plume of smoke unfurling from between its fierce jagged teeth. All in less than a second, she accepted her fate. There was nothing she could do, no maneuver she could pull to save her now. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was about to be blasted with the hottest blazing fire known to man. The very same fire that had wiped out entire cities in less than a day. She refused to close her eyes and instead stared down the gaze of the monster, facing death head on.

And yet, even after what felt like an eternity, the infernal blast did not come. She blinked a few times, disbelief etching her features. The dragon exuded an air of disinterest as it stared at her. Her brows pinched in confusion as it sat still, its massive spiky tail lashing behind itself. 

Its breathing was a low hum, in and out, filling the quiet forest with its resounding vibration. It moved its head to the side slowly, one eye focusing all its attention on her. It didn’t move much more than that and seemed to be waiting for her to make the first move.

After a long stretch of time, she relaxed her shoulders and took her first deep breath in a while. However, her body tensed right back up as the dragon began to stir, as if it were… shrinking? Her eyes widened in bewilderment as she watched the dragon change before her very eyes. She hadn’t ever seen this before. The only form the beasts had been in was that of a four limbed winged creature that breathed fire and craved the destruction of all that humankind had built. 

Her jaw was on the floor as the creature shrunk into the humanoid shape of a man. He ran his claw tipped fingers through his silver hair and blinked several times until his slitted pupils were round black dots. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to hers, an amused expression playing on his face. 

He took a step toward her and she took a step back, keeping her distance. The dragon was undoubtedly a ‘he’ made obvious since there was not a stitch of clothing in sight. She averted her eyes above the waist, observing red scales on his arms and chest that dissolved as he continued to transform, giving way to pale unblemished skin.

Tilting his head at the way she kept backing away from him, he unfurled his now considerably smaller scarlet wings. They were still massive compared to his size, which was also abnormally large for a human man. The veined wings were tipped in tallon-like claws. The light of the sun could be seen through the thin leathery skin, highlighting the many bones and veins running through them. His muscular arms opened like he was presenting himself to her.

After a long moment of her heart pounding in her ears, the shifted dragon took another casual step toward her. She, again, took a step back. His brows scrunched up, a look of confusion on his face. His wings stretched wider, looking more like a warning than anything else. It reminded her of male birds in the wild having bright obnoxious colors to attract a mate. It was almost funny to her, with that in mind, how he strutted over to her, confidence radiating off of him like steam. Almost. The reality of the situation still gripped her with fear preventing her from reacting.

She wanted to run, but didn't, knowing damn well that she’d never make it anywhere without him catching her in an instant. She kept her eyes glued on him, taking steps back as he approached.

His legs were much longer than hers, making him close the gap between them faster than she was able to move away. The closer he got the more obvious their size difference was. His human-like form was much larger than any average male. He towered over her, surpassing her height by several heads.

She took another step back but a tree halted her, causing her to startle. Jagged bark pressed into her back as she tried to shrink away from him. The dragon shifter eyed her quizically, looking up at the tree and then back down to her with a hint of his silver eyebrow rising.

“Um,” She cleared her throat. “Hello.” She said, breaking the silence in the forest. There wasn’t much else she could do at this point but try to communicate with it. 

When she spoke, his ruby eyes fixated on her lips. 

“Do you… speak English?” She tried again, her voice wavering.

The adrenaline rush that she’d been having was finally subsiding allowing her to feel the throbbing pain in her knees from when she fell. 

Amusement colored his features each time she spoke. His attention seemed to linger on her mouth as if he were intrigued. She pressed her back harder into the tree ignoring the poke of its texture. She quickly realized he had no interest in trying to speak with her. He didn’t even attempt to make a noise or respond in any language he knew. 

The method of communication among the dragons had confounded people ever since they arrived. It became evident that dragons separated by vast distances could still coordinate attacks or migrations despite never being observed having ever interacted with each other before. This mystery perplexed everyone leaving their communication methods shrouded in secret even after all these years since the invasion.

His breathing was deep as he drew closer to her. He leaned down and inhaled through his nose, then exhaled with a long pleasant sigh. As he got closer, his outstretched wings blocked her view of the forest. Her heart raced at the realization that she was essentially a mouse caught in a trap.

She swallowed over her dry tongue. “Hi.” She said a bit louder than before. With a wave of her hand, she recaptured his attention.

He reached out and snatched her hand, his brows furrowed as he examined her fingers. A crease formed on his forehead as he twisted her hand this way and that. She watched as his perplexity grew. 

“What?” She asked, hoping he’d finally speak.

The dragon lifted his own, much larger hand in comparison. It dwarfed hers by a considerable amount. His fingers were tipped with short clawlike nails. Her mind raced, wondering what he was thinking. Would he strike her down now? Perhaps a razor sharp nail to the throat where he would leave her alone in the forest to bleed out. She discarded that thought. He could have easily killed her 5 times over by now with even more efficient methods.

He glanced at her hand then back at his own then released her with a huff. His gaze shifted, moving leisurely up and down her form. She moved her hand back to her side and watched him. A thought occurred to her and she wondered if he was sizing up their differences. 

She decided to do the same, noticing that they had a lot of differences actually. Like the fact that she lacked garnet scales tipping her shoulders and fading into her chest. His scales disappeared nicely into his pale skin, fading out just before his abs began.

The wind picked up and wafted her hair around her face, making the dragon groan. He inhaled deeply once more, his face moving closer to her head. He was so close she could smell a dried rain and crisp leaf scent coming off him. He must have traveled far today since there had been no rain on this side of the forest for days.

His hand lifted, gently capturing a lock of her hair, being very mindful of his claws. She froze in place, watching him as he inhaled the scent of her hair. A contented sigh escaped him and he nodded. Dropping her hair, he moved his head to inhale directly by her ear. A shiver ran through her and she could feel the faintest graze of his tongue on her neck. She jerked away, but the man already looked pleased with himself. 

“That was, uh, something.” She said, her hand coming up to wipe the saliva trail off her neck. 

She opted to play nice since this man was literally holding her life in his hands. He was obviously made to kill, an apex predator above and beyond what her planet had ever produced. She wondered if they were at the top of the food chain from wherever the hell the dragons came from because, if they weren’t, she didn’t want to see what a dragon's natural predator looked like.

She jumped when his hand landed on her waist. Startled, she took several strides forward, distancing herself from him and the tree. 

“Woah, hah-” She struggled to contain her reaction, trying to avoid offending him. “That was,” She shook her head and buried her face in her hands. She couldn't wrap her head around what was happening. The shock had overwhelmed her ever since the dragon's incredible transformation before her very eyes. She wondered just how long these dragon invaders had been able to do that. Were they born with this ability? Could they all shift, or just a select few?

He frowned at her as she moved away. He faced her with new determination in his eyes and walked toward her again, slowly. She didn’t move, allowing him to approach as slowly as he was. It was less intimidating this time since his wings were mostly relaxed and weren’t wide open like before.

He reached out a massive hand to her face and paused before he met her skin. The warmth of his palm radiated onto her cheek as he narrowed his gaze down to her. He moved his hand closer, then away again, an expectant look on his face. It took a moment of awkward silence before it dawned on her that he was silently asking permission to touch her. 

She wasn’t sure if she had a real choice in the matter. He had all the power in this exchange and could easily kill her before her brain even registered that he moved. To keep the peace, she nodded and leaned into his touch. Once his hand met her cheek, he quickly tilted her face up to look at him.

A small smirk played on his face as his fingers began to travel down her neck and shoulder. She shivered as his clawlike nails gently scraped down her arm until his hand found hers. Heat radiated from his touch, leaving a lingering warmth in its wake.

His touch was very gentle… until it wasn’t. A shocked gasp escaped her as the world suddenly tilted and her cheek met the ground. She huffed into the dirt, leaves, and particles swirling around her.

His palm pressed on her head, keeping her face to the ground. She kicked out, but the motion came to an abrupt halt when he pressed his hips against her raised backside. Gulping, she gripped the earth tight in her hands.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was low, her squished face muffling the sound.

The dragon shifter huffed, drawing her hips back with one large arm and grinding against her. Her worn jeans were the only barrier between them. It wasn’t enough to dull the sensations, she could feel every contour of his growing erection. 

She yelped when his body folded over hers, his breath tickling her ear. He rutted against her while she pinched her eyes shut.

“What the fuck is going on?” She asked rhetorically, knowing the dragon would not respond.

He took another deep inhale from her neck and his heart pounded fast against her back. The more he ground against her, the harder he became. His massive frame swallowed hers. Muscular arms caged her in while he pressed his face into the crook of her neck. 

After a moment of her being frozen in place, the dragon finally pulled back. She turned her head to look back at him, wondering what he was doing. His eyes were half lidded as his chest rose and fell rapidly. He raked his fingers through his silver hair and huffed. He then gestured to her, then to himself, and waited while sitting back on his knees.

She didn’t move, cheek still pressed to the ground as she looked back at him. With a pointed finger, he indicated himself, then her again. He waited patiently, a juxtaposition to the unprompted grinding he’d just been doing.

Silence stretched between them, only broken by their heavy breathing. The dragon frowned, reiterating the gesture, jabbing his finger into his chest before carefully pointing at her from head to toe.

“I don’t get it… You…. and me?” She gestured to herself and then to him.

His eyes lit up then his gaze intensified. He grasped her pant’s waistband and, aided by his claws and strength, ripped the fabric away.

“Hey! Those were my only decent pair!” She yelled at him. “What are you doi-” Her words were cut off when his mouth went straight to her cunt. A long lick from top to bottom made her try to worm away from him. He yanked her back into place and continued his taste test of her most intimate place. 

“Oh!” Understanding struck her like lighting. “Oh no… we can’t. I-” 

Was the dragon shifter in heat or something? Did he just want something quick before flying off to wherever-the-fuck’s-ville? 

His hands carefully parted her cheeks as his tongue delved between her folds. “Holy hell… What is happening!? Do you want a hook-up? Is that it?” A yelp escaped her as his tongue circled her opening.

She wondered whether she should allow him to have his way, let him satisfy his desires. Maybe, when he is done, he will leave her here and fly back to whatever scorched patch of earth he came from and she can find her group again. The group that abandoned her… She rolled her eyes inwardly. 

“Fine.” The word was more of a moan. She bit her lip to stifle any sounds. “At least it's not death,” She groaned to herself. 

The cool breeze sent a shiver down her legs. He had pulled back, abandoning his ‘meal’ to point at himself again, then to her.

“Yes, yes! Go ahead.” She indicated, pointing at herself and then at him. “Might as well. It’s not like I'm busy or anything.” The fear was waning, being replaced by desire within. She was still scared of the unknown, but her brain was no longer focusing on an impending demise.

When she pointed at herself and then back at him again to reiterate, an actual smile graced his lips, and he appeared... quite attractive.

“Let's get this over with, yeah?” She exhaled, her body scraping the ground as he removed the remains of her torn pants and then her shirt.

He let out a low growl and placed his mouth back on her center. Years had passed since she last experienced the pleasurable touch of a man. A slap or a punch during a resource battle? Sure. But nothing that sent delightful shivers up her spine and caused her eyes to roll back.

“Damn,” She huffed, stirring up dust that settled on her face. She attempted to brush dust off her face but was caught off balance when he spread her legs further.

She thought of the cities and entire valleys that had been decimated by hoards of dragons and their molten flames. Her own town had been among the first to fall victim to the invaders many years ago, forcing her and her friends to become refugees, constantly moving from one place to the next to stay alive.

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling like a traitor as the very same enemy licked up and down the entire length of her pussy. Damn, being a traitor felt incredible. Of course, she was only doing this to create an opportunity to escape once he was finished... yeah... that was the plan.

His hands gripped her thighs and he pulled her legs apart. He purred against her slick cunt, vibrations making her squirm. How long was he going to do this for? This was looking less and less like a quick fuck and more like he was attempting to genuinely pleasure her.

“You can get on with it, you know.” She muttered, digging her nails into the forest floor. Predictably, he paid no attention to her words. After all, he hadn't uttered a single syllable, only making moans and groans of pleasure with his mouth.

His long tongue slid inside her entrance, the thick muscle stretching her out. She moaned and so did he, the vibration making her legs quake. His sounds of pleasure caught her off guard. She looked back at him, watching his silver hair catch the sunlight as he buried his face between her legs. She squinted against the sun's brightness, then shifted her gaze back to the dim expanse of the forest ahead.

It was maddening how pleasurable it all felt. She let out a soft whimper, her cheek pressed against the ground while his groans reverberated through her, setting her body on edge.

“No one is going to believe this.” She whispered to herself. Her legs were trembling and she felt the orgasm on the horizon. “Fuck,”

His tongue moved dangerously slow, swirling around her sensitive clit. His thumbs dug into her skin, holding her core open obscenely for the taking. She exhaled deeply, her muscles taut as the tension built.

"Alright!" she declared, pulling away before the inevitable and detaching his lips from her core.

The dragon growled and pulled her hips until his mouth met her clit again. He sucked hard, running his tongue in circles, ravishing her fiercely.

“Ah!” She moaned as the intensity of the orgasm throbbed in her cunt and spread over her body. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.” She whimpered, pushing herself back into his face, grinding eagerly. His hum echoed deep in his chest as his licking became sloppy.

The dragon moaned against her core, licking lighter and lighter until the touch was barely there anymore. Her legs quivered and her limbs shook as he released her, causing her to crumble onto the ground. Panting heavily, she tried to collect herself.

The dragon repositioned her hips, pulling her ass back into the air. Glancing back, she noticed the dilation of his pupils, his once red eyes nearly engulfed by the expanses of black. He pushed his knuckle against her core, keeping his claw at bay as he pressed into the slick hole. She moaned, voice strained when his knuckle entered her, stretching her so pleasantly.

His gaze narrowed, eyes locked on the wet mess in front of him. A blush colored her cheeks and she moved away again as a wash of embarrassment came over her.

She began to turn around. “Okay, okay,” She uttered. The dragon grabbed her hips, moving her back into place, on display for him. "Alright, fine! I'll stay like this," She huffed, rolling her eyes. "You're obsessed with this position, you know that?” 

For the first time, the dragon shifter took himself in hand. He pumped his length keeping his eyes on her spread pussy.

Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes went wide. “You're not putting that in me, are you!?” She blurted out. He was massive, much larger than any ordinary male should ever be. “It won't fit.” She added, starting to crawl away. “There’s no fucking way.” 

He grabbed her hip with his free hand, holding her in place. He pressed his cock against her pussy, coating her slickness all over the tip. The sensation of his warm tip over her entrance sent a rush through her. The intimate sensation was enough to fill her stomach with butterflies.

“That’s not going to help. You’ll need a miracle.” She pleaded. He pressed the tip against her opening and started to push. “There’s no way!” She yelled “There’s no-” The tip popped passed the tightness of her entrance and she squealed. Okay, maybe there was a way.

The look of determination on his face told her he wasn’t stopping at just the tip. His teeth were clenched, both hands holding her hips in a bruising grip. He was moving slowly, carefully, as a sweat broke out on his brow.

“Please be careful!” She moaned, feeling the intense stretch of her insides. “I can’t, I can't…” She whimpered. Yet, she could. Her pussy betrayed her, taking more and more of the dragon's cock until he was fully seated inside her. The uncomfortable stretch soon turned delicious and she cursed the pleasure sounds coming from her lips.

He groaned, thrusting into her until she took him as deep as she possibly could. Tears brimmed in her eyes. Her panting grew louder with each passing second. “It's too much… but…” She conceded, loosening her grip on the grass. 

He wasn’t moving after sheathing himself inside her. Instead, he breathed deep, hands gripping her hips tight like she may flee at any moment. A small groan escaped him when her body flexed around the intrusion. 

She felt utterly full, stuffed to the brim, unlike anything she’s ever experienced. It was overwhelming yet strangely addicting. He wasn’t moving, allowing her to accommodate his size. Despite her worry, her body accommodated him alright, faster than she’d like to admit. Her mind and body were definitely at odds as she wiggled her backside, pressing herself to his hips. She bit her lip, but that didn’t stop her from uttering soft whimpers.

He inhaled sharply, folding over her smaller frame once again. A low rumble resounded in his chest, vibrating against her back. She dared another wiggle, encouraging him to move. Instead, he grazed his teeth, no, fangs, over her shoulder to her neck. His skin had the warmth of a heating pad, making her break out into a light sweat despite the cool spring air. 

She took a deep breath, her inner walls tremoring as he stayed seated deep inside her. His lips moved down her neck and nipped at the skin just below her ear. 

Clearing her throat, she broke the silence. “I guess you could call this romantic," she attempted to joke. “But, we’re on the literal forest floor. Maybe if we were in a bed or-”

The sensation of sharp teeth grazing her skin sent a shiver through her. Her eyes widened when she felt them a second time. They were razor-sharp and far more pointy than his claws were. She wondered what he was doing. Should she be warning him that her skin was not as thick as a dragon’s was? She didn’t know how to warn him, but his peppering of kisses with his soft warm lips eased some of her anxiety. His hands slid up under her, holding her chest firmly and pressing her back against his chest in a tight embrace.

Pain suddenly erupted from her throat. A piercing scream tore from her as his fangs penetrated her flesh. The noise sent nearby birds scattering, their wings fluttering and carrying them away from the scene. Tears filled her eyes as her legs kicked. He held her tighter, keeping her in place below him. 

Betrayal washed over her despite having no idea what to expect from this chance encounter with a monster. She kicked again, so he bit down harder warning her to stay still. She stopped moving, fearing that if she kept moving it may cause more damage to her neck. And, if she were to survive this, she wanted to be intact.

He could easily tear out her throat or crush it in an instant. For the first time, limp and powerless between the jaws of a monster, she realized just how helpless she truly was.

A searing sensation like molten lava surged from his bite. She pleaded and begged for him to stop, but the scalding fluid seeped into her veins, causing her vision to blur. Her entire body slowly became a fiery inferno from within.

The burning sensation soon reached her heart. In her panic, the pounding muscle shot the molten lava out to her extremities. As it made its way up her neck, her lips tingled and burned. Soon, her hands were engulfed, feeling as if she’d placed them atop a red-hot iron. A confused whimper escaped her as the sensation reached where the two of them were carnally connected.

A sigh of relief resounded as the painful searing sensation began to dissipate. The heat felt comforting, almost natural, as it made its way to the tips of her toes.

All at once, his body stopped feeling like a furnace. The dragon shifter at her back felt normal, almost cool to the touch. Her sweat evaporated and the breeze in the forest became exceptionally refreshing. A deep inhale calmed her, and her flushed cheeks cooled. The bite felt… good.

With the utmost care, slow and steady, he unlatched his teeth from her vein. His lips engulfed the wound as he licked at it apologetically. He began to release her from the iron clad hug he had her in and allowed her to slope back to the ground.

A distant male voice reached her ears and she jerked her head to look in its direction. She wanted the help, sure, but what would a group of humans do in this situation? Also, her predicament was bizarre. The dragon’s cock was still seated inside her, she was naked, covered in dirt and the winged man licked at the wound he’d just given her.

She didn’t see anyone in the forest as she scanned the trees. Another male voice, much closer, caught her attention and she swiveled her head in all directions.

“Hello?!” She shouted. The dragon didn’t react to her outburst.

Someone was near, and she wondered why he was not on alert. Was he not worried about them being found? Or did he simply not hear them? With the keen senses she knew the dragons to have, the ladder sounded less plausible.

Heat rushed to the spot where she was bitten and the blood stopped trickling. She tried to look, only seeing one of the punctured holes from her view. It was mending itself and at a remarkable rate. Her eyebrows rose in astonishment. Even the scrapes on her arms and knees numbed, sealing back together in a flash.

"What was that just now?" She gazed into his eyes. His pupils were slits again, but he blinked until they were circular black holes.

The man's voice came again and it was right behind her. She jerked and instinctively turned her head, finding no one there. Fantastic, she must be losing her mind. Going insane seemed plausible, especially with how the current situation was playing out. Could this all be a result of hitting her head? 

The dragon shifter ran his finger down her neck and sighed happily. Her body had very well acclimated to the size of his cock by now. She felt a rush of endorphins race through her originating from her core.

“...like you were made for me.”  A male voice, clear as day, echoed within her mind.

She slowly turned her gaze toward the shifter. “Did you just speak?”

“I have been.” His lips didn’t move, but she heard his voice clearly. His red eyes went from meeting her gaze to flicking down to her lips.

There was a long silence as she gawked at him. “H-how are you talking without… your mouth?”

He grinned and pressed a kiss to the spot he had bitten. ”The Draconian are a telepathic species. You don’t need to worry.”

“What!?” Her mind raced. “Why couldn't I hear you before?”

His eyes shifted between hers, sporting an amused smirk. ”You are human.” The word “human” wasn't exactly what he said. But the image in his mind linked to the word conveyed its meaning. ”Humans aren’t telepathic by nature.” He adds.

“Then how can I hear you now?” She murmured.

”I gave you my fires. You have been changed from within. Transformed.”

The words ‘You’re mine.’ Weren’t explicitly stated, but it was heavily implied in his heated gaze.

Her walls fluttered around the intrusion inside her. “Oh…” She was too stunned to speak, her mind struggling to grasp the reality of it all.

“What are you called?” He asked, lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

A hiss escapes her as his fangs graze her sensitive skin. A surge of fear courses through her, yet nothing comes of it. He didn’t bite her again.

“Why does it matter?” She says between clenched teeth. Her body trembled beneath his, ensnared like a bird in a cage by his powerful arms. Despite herself, memories surface of her mother using her full name when she was in trouble, juxtaposed with the nickname her friends had coined, a name she much preferred.

”That’s a beautiful name.” His voice filled her head.

“What?! I didn’t say anything. I just… You can’t read my mind, can you?!” She looked back at him in disbelief.

The dragon chuckled, a deep and reverberating sound. Yet another noise he could make with his mouth. ”I like how feisty you are. Yes, of course. You have my fires, I can read your mind.” He inhaled deeply against her neck. ”You smell fantastic… I could sense you from miles away.”

His words were accompanied by images that filled her mind of flowers, dewdrops on crisp green grass, and flakes of ash floating from a raging fire. Those weren’t her thoughts.

“Can I read yours too?”

He vocalized a hum and spoke in her head with a low whispery tone. ”Only if I let you.” He smirked, eyes half-lidded as his gaze moved over her facial features.

“How can I keep my thoughts to myself?”

His eyes softened, and he finally pulled away. ”I’ll teach you… maybe.”

“Maybe? Teach me now” She encouraged.

”I will teach you, in time.” He pledged, his hand gliding down her spine.

She was quickly growing accustomed to his voice resonating in her mind. She glanced back, capturing his face illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the canopy. His fangs were only slightly longer than his regular teeth. Funny, they had felt much bigger when they pierced her skin. His eyes, a deep jewel red, were piercing in the best way. His face was striking. An angled jawline framed his perfectly symmetrical features. 

He smirked. ”You think I’m handsome?” His brows arched playfully.

She averted her gaze. “I’m not going to get used to the mindreading anytime soon.” Thoughts of how the mindreading would ruin her escape plans weighed heavily on her mind.

“Sylus,” His voice washed over her mind, drawing her away from her thoughts.

“What?” She scrunched her face.

”That is what I am called. Sylus.”

“Oh…” A tinge of remorse settled in for not asking.

”It’s all right.” His hands slid down to her lower back, breath quickening. ”Are you ready now? You aren’t making distressed sounds anymore.” He pressed his hips forward against her ass, pushing his cock that much deeper.

“Ah! Hold on," She gasped, pressing her forehead against the ground. "Maybe I should turn around first? Lie on my back, perhaps? This position... it's hurting my knees."

Sylus narrowed his eyes. ”But this is how you mount a mate to claim them.” He said, tilting his head in confusion.

“A what!? I am not your, your mate!” She spat, attempting to pull away but failing as his hands tightened on her hips.

"You are. Your scent is perfect, just what I've been seeking all my life." The voice in her head took on a soft tone. "And, you did agree."

“When!?” She asked, utterly flustered. A mental image that was not hers flashed before her eyes. She saw herself, dirt-covered face, hair clinging to her skin, pointing at him and then to herself. “The pointing? That was… it?” Well damn, it was her telling him to just fuck her already. But she hadn't exactly signed up for being mates! “I didn’t want a full-blown mate! I just thought-”

He sighed. ”I see what you thought. But, why would I want to do this…” He emphasized with a hard thrust. ”...with you only one time?” Despite the layer of disappointment he had with their miscommunication, she could feel his shining confidence bursting through.

She let out a soft whimper, her head spinning. “Okay, okay. How long do ‘mates’ last?” She asked.

The dragon let out a deep chuckle, leaning forward and trailing kisses up her spine while his hands moved up her stomach to cup her breasts. His fingers lightly caressed the soft skin, rubbing her nipples gently in small circles.

She pressed her forehead down to the ground, the scent of the earth filling her nose, and let out a long sigh. She just wished he'd started already. Her body was no longer throbbing at the intrusion and instead had prepared with extra lubricant for just the occasion.

”You’re so impatient.” His sensual tease echoed. ”But I'm ready to provide you with everything you desire, whenever you want.”

With a firm grasp on her hips, he withdrew and thrust his cock into her.

“Ah! Oh my fucking god.” Her moans vibrated into the earth.

“I love the noises you make with your mouth.” His voice sounded even but his vocal breaths told another story. He panted, pumping into her with slow deep thrusts.

”Feels so good… I’m so full.” She thought in her mind. She sensed the words extending, stretching like tendrils in the void until she visualized Sylus’s face. She recognized the instant the words reached him, slotting into his mind like two puzzle pieces finally clicking together.

He moaned, thrusts getting sloppy the faster he went. His red wings beat, creating a gust of wind that tousled her hair around her face.

An image of flying took shape in her thoughts, a sensation she’d never experienced before. Lush rolling hills filled with thousands of green trees, mist filling the canopy and rising toward the morning sun. 

Soaring high into the sky and the rush of diving back toward the earth, catching oneself on the wind with outstretched wings. With the rush coming from these visuals he was sending her, she knew he was growing close to release.

“You're too perfect.” His words touched her mind.

“Can we try the other position? Please. As much as I’m enjoying this-” She asked, knees pressing hard against the ground. “If you hate it, we can change back.” She sent him a vision of her on her back and him close enough to kiss her.

He said something explicit in his head she couldn't attach to an English word, pleasure washing over his mind at the idea of being so close to her. He pulled out, slowly, carefully.

”Show me.” He breathed heavily, waving his hand and gesturing for her to roll over. ”I will entertain my human mate’s request.” He added with a proud smile. The wonder of human customs accompanied his words. She realized he was more than curious about her kind now that he was mated to her.

She did, rolling until her back met the ground, feeling the tickle of grass and crushed wildflowers against her skin. She adjusted until her feet were pressing down, legs spread in front of him. 

“Okay, now… do it.” She urged, red coloring her cheeks.

He gazed at her with wonder. An image of herself flooded her mind. Seeing her own reflection through his eyes was otherworldly. It was as if he had a lens that made her look ethereal, illuminated by the sunlight, her hair cascading behind her. The line between his thoughts and hers blurred, and she marveled at how she appeared. She had never considered herself more than ordinary, yet in this vision, she appeared divine, like a goddess. Her breath was lost at the realization of how he truly saw her.

He carefully grabbed her thighs, lifting her legs off the ground as he moved closer to her. His gaze fixed on her with a sense of wonder, like a starstruck fan. He moved slowly, deliberately, lining his cock up with her entrance once more.

”Radiant, beautiful, gorgeous.” His thoughts enveloped her consciousness, painting a vivid portrait of admiration, sliding back inside her with minimal effort. “All mine”

She closed her eyes, his cock sliding and pushing against all the right spots. She tilted her head back and slid her hands up his muscular chest, loving the way he eagerly leaned into her touch.

”I like this position.” He thought. ”I like the human way.”

She let out a sigh, watching his face drawing nearer to hers. "Kiss me," she whispered. His gaze wavered, and he blinked in surprise. When he didn't respond she asked, "What? Draconians don't kiss?"

She projected an image into his mind of two people locked in a passionate kiss, followed by an image of him leaning down and meeting her lips. He blinked a few times and followed her vision, leaning down until their lips met. His movements were somewhat rigid and awkward.

She snickered, arms encircling his neck. "I suppose not. Here," she whispered, pressing her lips against his and repeating the gesture. He drank in the sensations and swiftly reciprocated the kiss. 

When her tongue ventured between his lips, he drew back, his gaze locked onto her mouth.

"Too much?" she inquired, concern filling her mind. She worried she’d offended him in some way.

"No." He shook his head, drawing a deep breath. ”I was surprised. Let’s try that again.” His heated gaze was back as he cupped her face with a massive hand.

As their mouths met, he immediately slid his tongue passed her lips. He rolled his hips, sliding deep, and pulling moans from her that he promptly swallowed.

She kissed him back passionately, fingers digging into his silver hair. He braced himself above her, his claws sinking into the soil. He thrust faster, rocking her entire body with the movement.

As his kisses became sloppy, their teeth collided, and she felt the sharpness of his fangs. She broke the kiss, her heart racing. But he lunged forward again, his lips meeting hers with urgency.

”I won't hurt you.” His reassurance echoed in her mind.

Using her mental voice since his lips were on hers, she responded with a mental image of the bite mark and the words ”You already did!”

”I had to do that, so my mate could survive this claiming.”

"What!" She pulled back from the kiss, breathlessly. "What does that mean? What are you saying?" She asked him to explain.

”You needed to be the same body temperature as me, otherwise I'd scorch you.” Lines creased his forehead. ”I won't let you die in my arms.”

“There you go saying ‘mate’ again. I- Okay we will circle back to that later. What would cause me to get scorched?” She kept her hands on his shoulders, fingers just grazing his lingering scales, holding his kiss at bay.

”My body, my fluids. Your body is incompatible with me unless we share my fires. Any injury I may cause would heal more quickly with my fires coursing through your veins.”

“Fires? Was that what was in the bite you gave me? I have so many questions…”

She let her hands drop from his shoulders to rub down over his defined abs. 

”We have all the time in the world. I'll happily answer your questions day and night. I promise. But for now-” He punctuated his statement with a thrust of his hips.

She held back a moan and nodded. "Fine, but I want answers. All of them. Deal?"

”Deal” His thoughts brimmed with amusement aimed at her. ”After.”

Shaking her head, she draped her arm over her eyes as he quickened his pace. He breathed heavily, peeling himself from her body and sitting back on his bent legs. He held her legs up, pushing his torso against her thighs.

”Do you like this? Am I fulfilling your human custom?” He teased, yet his gaze scanned her face with sincerity.

She peeked from under her arm. "Yes. Oh, yes. It's amazing." she whimpered.

Her legs trembled as he held them tight. She sucked in air through her teeth, hissing as he hit her in all the right spots to make her see stars. The slick wet sounds filled the air mixing with his low grunts. Every thrust, every pump pushed her body with such intensity that she felt like a ragdoll.

“So, so good.” Her feet dangled in the air while he supported her legs. Her stomach muscles tightened, and she reached out, clutching his forearm. Her nails dug in, and despite his humanoid exterior, she discovered his skin was much thicker than a human’s was.

“You’re enjoying this.” The mind speak drifted into her head. She was dazed, barely registering what he said. Her mind was fried as he pounded her senselessly.

“Close- I’m- Ah!” She moaned, core muscles flexing as her pussy throbbed around him.

”Yes. That’s it.” The voice in her head encouraged. He moaned, pumping faster while the orgasm had her gushing out onto the forest floor.

“Holy shit!” She exclaimed, locking eyes with him in a heated exchange. His eyes were mesmerizing, like precious gemstones reflecting the purest hues of a ruby.

”You look so beautiful under me, losing yourself.” He said affectionately, fingers pressing into her thigh, and sharp nails scraping lines on her skin. “You're so gorgeous. I’ll never get tired of looking at you.” He praised.

She wasn't attempting to escape out of fear anymore. She pulled away because he was buried so deeply within her, and her inner walls felt fatigued and overstimulated. “It’s too much.” She groaned, her entire body trembling like a leaf. 

”I’m close, hold on.” He warned. ”I’m so close” He kept the same intense rhythm, lowering her legs. He leaned over her form, his arms bracing on the ground on either side of her torso. His face hovered just inches from hers.

She stopped her escape and instead, let the overstimulation become her. Gasps and grunts passed between them, his face close enough to kiss if he wasn’t fucking her so fervently. Her eyes pinched shut as a second, weaker, orgasm pulsed in her core. She whimpered, almost crying as the friction became too much. If he hadn't wrapped her in his arms, the force of his hips would have pushed her away.

Sylus praised her for keeping up with him, whispering sweet words into her thoughts. His teeth gently grazed her neck, and his tongue traced along her skin. With a single flap of his wings, a gust of wind swirled around them. Sylus then thrust to the hilt, his body stilling. He held his breath for a moment, then his cock throbbed inside her. A searing heat filled her deep and she pinched her eyes closed, teeth gritting. His cum was like lava.

She gasped as the sensation rippled through her, her fingers digging into his back, cautious of where his wings protruded. She desperately pulled him closer, longing for the space between their bodies to disappear. His forehead pressed against hers, muscles twitching as his searing cum filled her to the brim, seeping out, and dripping onto the ground. He panted, arms holding her to his chest as he breathed through the last remaining throws of his orgasm.

“Sylus,” She moaned. No matter how she tried to relax, her muscles were forced to their limit with him still inside her. Her ears rang as her heart pounded in her skull. She was drunk on his scent, on his touch, on his cock. Her mind was full of just him.

He placed a trembling hand on her lower abdomen and pressed down. She gasped, feeling just how deep inside her he was. A whimper escaped her when he pressed more firmly.

“You're mine.” He nipped at her ear. ”I’m yours. And nothing-” he growled possessively ”will ever come between us.”

She cried out when he removed himself from her body. She choked on a sob, feeling her core muscles finally relax. Her thighs were covered in slickness from their combined fluids.

Sylus claimed her lips in a heated kiss, his newfound hobby. She kissed him back, sounds of pleasure still slipping passed her lips. His strong hands cradled her face as his tongue dipped into her mouth.

“Mm, wow.” She sighed, finally catching her breath.

Their mouths met with ferocity, lips pressing hard, vanishing the air from her lungs.

His hands moved all over her body, cupping her breasts with his massive palms. His thumbs ran over her nipples and she arched into his touch.

“I’m really sensitive right now.” she whimpered, placing a few soft kisses on his lips. His stamina was truly remarkable.

He smirked ”I see that.” He trailed kisses down her neck to her collarbone. ”I did that to you.” he stated proudly. 

"Yes, you certainly did," She agreed breathlessly.

“And, I’ll do it again and again and again,” He kisses her anew with each word. She giggled as his hair tickled her face. Sylus pulled back with a genuine smile.

She believed his promise since his mind was now filled with fantasies of her. 

”Time to head home soon.” He said, planting one final kiss on her lips before moving his head between her legs in a swift motion.

“What? Home? What do you mea-!”

His tongue ran down her slit, gathering their mixed fluids. He licked and sucked between her folds, cleaning up the mess he’d made. He hummed, burying his face as close as he possibly could.

“Ngh! What are you doing?” She gasped, a moan escaping from her increasingly raspy voice.

”Cleaning you up so I can take you home.” He assured her in his mind, tongue moving up and down her wet thighs. It was a mix of ticklishness and sinful pleasure. She indulged in both, relaxing back on the soft grass.

He focused on her entrance next, moaning into her cunt, devouring her essence. She could sense his immense pleasure from the delightful thoughts that floated through his mind. His tongue repeatedly brushed against her clit and she shuddered.

Her exhausted stomach muscles contracted, and she cried out, “Okay! I’m spent! I can’t… not another one. Please.” Her hoarse voice carried a pleading tone as she pushed down on his head, trying to move him away from her center.

He smirked, taking one final inhale before leaning back. His eyelids were relaxed, silver hair falling over his brow while he sported a very contented look on his handsome face. His wings folded against his back as he stretched his arms upward and to the side. He closed his eyes, savoring the stretch for several long moments. 

She shut her eyes, taking deep breaths to regain her composure. Her legs closed, and she could already feel the onset of soreness in her muscles.

Sylus reclined next to her in the grass, his arms behind his head and a contented smile on his face. “You're the most beautiful mate.”

“We’re going to need to have a long conversation about that.” She remarked.

Sylus chuckled and effortlessly pulled her onto his chest as if she weighed nothing. He brushed hair away from her face, allowing her to nestle into his larger frame.

His scent was comforting like a warm blanket and his presence put her at ease. Taking a deep breath and then exhaling slowly, her eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion taking over. 

“Do you ever use your voice to speak?” She asked, unintentionally yawning in his face. He appeared unfazed by her less-than-polite action.

She watched him as the silence stretched. His eyes squinted like he was about to sneeze before his lips formed the sound “Sshur,” He looked pleased with himself, smug even.

“That wasn’t a word.” She struggled to hold back a laugh.

”But I spoke it with my mouth.”

“Do you even speak any language?”

”I didn't know human mates had so many questions. I will be happy to answer them all but I can’t all at once.” He stretched, keeping her nestled against his chest. “So curious.”

“But you will answer them eventually, right?”

”Of course, sweetie.” 

“Do you know anyone else with a human… well, 'mate'?”

Sylus pat her back with a small smile. “That is another question.”

Amused, she chuckled. “Oh, sorry. Okay, I’ll zip it for now. I promise. I need some rest, now anyway.”

”First, home, then rest. After that, I will attempt to satisfy your curiosity. Though, it seems to know no bounds”

“Where is-” She paused. “Never mind. Another question.”

”This is our home.” He projected images into her mind. A mountainside with a massive cavernous opening in its flank appeared, shrouded in darkness from a large overhang from the mountain above.

“That's… high.” She gazed up at the sky, the images from her mind blending with the real world.

”Those humans you were with, they abandoned you.” His words were laced with annoyance. ”I will not do that. I won’t leave you here alone. Especially since you don't have claws to defend yourself.”

“How did you know there were other people?” She asked curiously.

”I could smell them nearby when I found you.” His eyes moved about the trees. “They are long gone now, leaving before I even transformed.”

Her face scrunched in annoyance. They were close by, after all, just hiding like cowards and leaving her to die. She honestly couldn’t blame them, unsure of what she would have done in that same situation. Still, it hurt that they didn’t even try to help her.

”I promise to take care of you.” His fingers tenderly followed the curve of her jawline. ”I will provide you with anything you could possibly need. And, I will strive to give you everything you want.”

Through their mental bond, she believed every word he said. He fed his fires to her veins, binding them mentally, emotionally, and physically. Now, their connection was complete, making her just as much his as he was hers.

With care, Sylus helped her sit up. He followed suit, rising to his feet. ”We both need to freshen up and have a warm meal.” He brushed dirt off himself and then off her.

The thought of food made her stomach rumble. “I’m starving.” She didn’t know the last time she had a proper meal.

His smile widened. ”I know. I've seen your thoughts full of bread and cheeses.” He extended a hand to help her stand. “We have plenty of that back home.”

“My clothes…” She looked around at the tattered cloth. “They’re unsalvageable.”

Sylus furrowed his brow. ”I will get you more.” He assured. ”Now, I must transform to take us back. Will you be comfortable riding in my hand?”

She looked down at his humanoid hand with uncertainty. “Um,”

Sylus's laughter resonated in his chest. ”My Draconian hand is much larger than this. You will fit in the palm of it. Don’t worry. Can I shift now? Will you be okay?” He shifted his weight to one leg, his gaze heavy on hers.

She could feel his worry clouding her mind. There had been a load of anxiety the last time she saw his dragon form.

She nodded finally. ”Yes. I’m ready.”

Sylus took several steps back, pupils changing to slits before his skin erupted into gleaming garnet scales. With a resounding roar, his body expanded, reshaping itself into the colossal dragon that had previously frightened her.

Fear gripped her, but words drifted into her mind.”You're safe.” He reassured her mentally. ”It's still me.” He took one large step toward her, the ground rumbling with the weight of his limbs.

She willed herself to stand her ground, reminding herself that this was Sylus, the man, or rather the dragon, who had claimed her, who had promised protection and care.

Sylus extended one massive, claw tipped hand, waiting patiently. His breathing was much louder, punctuated by intermittent gruff sounds.

Summoning her courage, she stepped forward, hand gliding over thick red scales until she nestled within his palm. He patiently waited for her to find a good position, securing herself in place by clasping onto one of his massive digits.

Sylus gradually closed his fingers, cradling her against his chest as though holding a precious jewel.

”Hold on tight.”

”Okay.” Poking her head out of his hand, she watched as he limped on three limbs to a clearing.

As the dragon prepared for flight, his wings unfurled with loud wooshing sound. Sylus’s wings stretched out with an astonishing span, each membranous expanse flexing as he eyed the sky. With a powerful thrust, he launched himself into the air. Each mighty flap of his wings sent shockwaves through the air, leaving behind a whirlwind that ruffled the trees. She held onto his digit, feeling safe and tucked away against his hard chest.

He broke through the canopy, leaving the spot where they met behind. In flight, his wings pumped fiercely, propelling them forward as his body cut through the air current. The wind howled in her ears the higher they rose. He adjusted fluidly, tilting to catch currents and riding the wind with ease. His body cast a massive shadow on the ground below.

As she peaked out from under his claws, she looked down. The height they soared at made her stomach drop. She gripped his fingers tightly, a chill rushing through her that had nothing to do with the wind whipping past. He sent her images of his home again, a large cavern in the mountainside. She saw a room with a large bed made out of piles and piles of blankets, a desk with books and quills, and a bookshelf stuffed with more trinkets than books.

The wind roared in her ears as they cut through the clouds. Pressed against his chest, she could feel Sylus’s muscles working with each flap of his wings, each beat pushing them into a forward surge, propelling them higher and higher. The landscape rolled and undulated beneath them. It looked fake, like something from a movie.

She felt weightless, suspended in his palm with every powerful stroke of the dragon's wings. A smile grew on her face as the rush of freedom overcame her. 

Gazing forward toward the mountains, she felt a sense of unity with Sylus in addition to the bond they already made. It felt like it was them against the world, and she was certain that the two of them would always win no matter what it took.

She marveled at the view. This was most certainly a perspective meant for the extraordinary. It hit her that this was a moment that would forever etch itself into her mind. There was uncertainty about the future, but she had lived in uncertain times for years now. It was easier to roll with the punches and adjust anew to what the world was presenting her at any given moment than to struggle against it. Sylus hadn't made that hard for her. She relaxed in his grip and smiled wide as the landscape rushed by them in a blinding blur. 

[crosshairlovebot]

i've got you / hunter x gn!reader

pairing: hunter x gn!reader (no y/n). reader has endearments.

description: hunter finds you unwell, so he tries his best to take care of you.

word count: 1,779

warnings: references to illness (fever, headache, coughing, sneezing, lethargy). but otherwise, it's soft hunter at his softest.

been writing much hunter lately! i'm not complaining! (but i will try and get some crosshair out next week) i wrote this super quick for a twitter mutual <3 but i hope this brings comfort to anyone who's reading and sick. you deserve an attentive hunter looking after you.

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated.

Hunter knew something wasn’t right as soon as he walked into the Marauder. He’d come back after leaving the rest of the squad at 79’s, deciding he wasn’t in the mood to go out, especially when you’d decided to stay back on the ship, citing a headache. He’d initially offered to stay back with you, but you’d waved him off, insisting he go out with his brothers since they rarely got time off and you’d hate it if he used that time to sit around with you on the ship.

“I’m just going to lay in bed and maybe fall asleep early. I’m feeling a little tired anyway. Very boring stuff. Go have fun, Hunter. You need it,” you had told him as you came out of the fresher, face washed and in the comfiest clothes you had – baggy pants and short-sleeved shirt that you’d stolen from one of Wrecker’s old civvie disguises.

He’d been apprehensive but had left with his brothers anyway, telling you to comm him if you needed anything.

It had barely been an hour when he’d told Crosshair he was leaving, and to keep an eye on the others. Not only was the club loud and overcrowded, but he also just wanted to be with you.

But when he stepped onto the Marauder, something felt off. He could feel it in the air, and the sound of uneven breaths made the hair on his arms prickle under his blacks. He walked further into the ship, calling your name softly when he heard sniffles and a cough.

“Cyare? Hey,” he said when he saw you lying in his bunk, covered in a blanket and looking much worse than when he left you. You were unwell; the headache had been a precursor to something more serious. You squinted up at him as his shadow covered your eyes. He crouched down next to you immediately and ran a hand over your hair gently. “Why didn’t you call me?”

You groaned but leaned into his touch. “You’re supposed to be out.”

“I’m glad I came back.” Hunter pressed the back of his gloved hand to your forehead. Even through the skin-tight fabric, he could feel you burning up. “You should’ve called me,” he chided, a frown etched into his brow.

“Didn’t want to bother you,” you muttered, pulling the blanket tighter under your chin, and coughing lightly again. Hunter grazed the back of his fingers against your cheek.

“You’re never a bother. Why would you think that?” he asked, shaking his head.

You just shrugged, then sneezed under the blanket. When you re-emerged, moaning in discomfort, Hunter gave your cheek another caress before he put his hands on his knees and stood up. “I’m getting you a cold towel for your head.”

“No, don’t go,” you weakly protested as he walked off to the fresher.

“I’ll just be a minute, love,” he said and went to rifle under the fresher sink for a small clean towel, cursing that he and his brothers weren’t tidier. Once he found one, he quickly wet it in cold water and wrung out the excess before walking back to the bunk. You cracked open your eyes when you heard his footsteps and twisted on your back as he crouched down again.

“Here,” he said softly as he placed the cold towel on your forehead, smoothing it down. You hummed before a shiver went through your body.

“Have you taken anything?” Hunter asked.

“A couple of pills when you guys left,” you told him, eyes drifting shut again. Hunter frowned. He wasn’t used to treating sick people. Clones rarely ever got sick, their immune systems engineered to withstand any illnesses. Any time he was treated for anything, it was for injuries, and Tech usually handled it.

But Hunter was your partner, in every sense of the word. He wanted to be there for you in any way he could. Not just as the leader of the squad, but as someone who loved you more than he thought he could ever love anyone.

He always took care of the people he loved.

So, he tried to remember what they’d learnt from their training modules as cadets, the ones that detailed nat-born illnesses and how to treat them if they ever encountered sick civilians.

Fever, sneezing, coughing, headache. Sounded like a flu-type sickness. Maybe you had picked it up on Felucia during their mission there a few days ago.

You’d already taken some medication, so he knew you wouldn’t be able to for the next few hours. He just had to try and make you comfortable and ease the symptoms of the fever as much as he could while the medication worked.

Hunter gently flipped the cool towel to the other side as he looked down at the blanket. “You need to keep cool, cyare. We don’t want the fever to get too high,” he hooked his fingers over the edge of the blanket. You made a sound of protest but ultimately let him remove the blanket, pushing it down to the end of the bunk. You shivered, but you looked up at him, eyes blinking at him. He’d never seen you look so helpless before, and he hated it. He cupped your jaw, skin still hot, thumb moving over your cheekbone.

“Where’s your water canteen?” he asked.

You nodded to the cockpit, and he went to go get it, filling it up on the way. He crouched beside you. “Can you sit up?”

You nodded and tried to move. Hunter grabbed the towel from your forehead before he placed a hand under your shoulder blades and held your arm to support the change in position, fixing the pillow behind you. You groaned, complaining about the heaviness in your body as you sat there. He looked at you, shoulders slumped forward, peaky expression on your face as you rubbed your eyes. Being sick looked miserable, and he wished he could take it from you and suffer with it himself, just so you didn’t have to. He unscrewed the canteen.

“Small sips, okay?” He held the lip of the canteen to your lips and the back of your head as you tilted back and took three small sips before Hunter pulled the canteen away. Some water dribbled down your lip and chin and he gently wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. You looked over at him, brows slanted down. You looked upset, which surprised him a little.

“What is it?” He asked, screwing the canteen shut again.

You made a noncommittal noise and slowly moved to lie down again. Hunter cradled your head as you guided it down to the pillow, removing his hand once you were fully down. He ran his hand over your hair again. He watched your eyes close slowly at the movement. He repeated it a few times, soothing you the only way he really knew how. He tried not to worry too much, but it was hard when you barely had the energy to look at him. He knew nat-borns slowly got better from illnesses such as these in a matter of days, and he would have Tech check you over once they all got back, but he didn’t like seeing you like this; eyes dull, skin clammy, body curled up. He just wanted you to get better sooner rather than later.

After a few moments, he picked up the now half-dry towel and said, “Gonna wet this again.”

He stood up and walked to the fresher, and when he came back, he placed the damp towel back on your forehead. As he pulled away, you grabbed his hand and cradled it to your chest, interlocking your fingers together and sighing. He smiled softly.

“Oh, ner cyare,” he whispered gently.

“I’m sorry, Hunter,” you croaked.

Hunter shook his head. “It’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re sick. It happens.”

“Not to you,” you scowled at his hand like it was to blame for his immunity to illness.

“Well, I can’t help that.” His mouth tilted up at the corner.

You fiddled with his fingers and traced lines down to his palms. “I just feel so helpless like this.”

“Lucky for you, I’m here now. I’ve got you,” he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on your temple. He lingered there for a second before he pulled away, his other hand coming to your cheek.

You looked up at him, pout on your lips. “I didn’t want to ruin your night out.”

Hunter caressed your cheek. “There was nothing to ruin. You’re my priority.”

“Still. I’m sorry,” you said before kissing his fingers.

Hunter shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He adjusted the towel and then fixed the pillow underneath your head, so it was better supporting your neck. “Do you feel like some food?” he asked. He wanted to feel useful to you, but he didn’t know what else he could offer right now.

You shook your head. “Just wanna sleep.”

“Then sleep, love,” he said, pulling his hand from yours and sitting on the floor next to the bunk, his back against the wall opposite, legs stretched out and the soles of his feet resting against the bunk frame. “I’ll be here.”

You watched him, mouth pressing into a line before you reached out to him and your voice said quietly, “Closer?”

Hunter smiled. “Hang on.”

He stood up and began to remove his armour. Piece by piece, he placed it in a pile on one of the chairs in the centre of the ship. Now only in his blacks, he made his way back to you. You opened your eyes again and smiled when you saw him in his underarmour. He crouched down.

“Shuffle over,” he whispered, and you obliged, moving slowly so your back was almost up against the wall. Hunter climbed in next to you, sitting up in case he needed to move out if you got too hot. Once he was situated, you shuffled closer, head resting against his thigh, eyes closed. You’d curled yourself in a ball, and Hunter looked down as he repositioned the cool towel on your head, making sure it was in the right place.

“Rest, cyare. I’m right here.” He stroked your head, then moved his hand down to your shoulder, rubbing his thumb there. You snuggled into the side of his leg, letting out a sigh.

“Love you,” you mumbled as you began to drift off to sleep.

He smiled down at you, his hand stilling as he rested his palm, so it cupped the curve of your shoulder and kept you close to him. “Love you.”

banner art by @vimse thank you reading!

🏷️ @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @chopper-base @shredderwest @leavingkamino @r2d2staser @beckbucket @pb-jellybeans @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo @ezras-left-thumb @lovelycurls @fruitsaladtree @literallydontlook @burningfieldof-clover @queencousland101 @clonethirstingisreal @skellymom

TAGLIST FORM

[animentality]

the queers aren't teaching your kids to be queer.

I was literally raised Catholic by a boomer, and I knew I hated dresses as young as 2. one of my earliest childhood memories is refusing to associate with pink, and throwing temper tantrums if I was ever forced to wear anything even vaguely feminine coded.

I just didn't have the words for it until I started reading l x light live journal kink meme fills, and then I was like wait hold on a second.

hold on.

steamy omega verse AO3 fanfics are the real precursor to queerness, the LGBT community is really only tangentially involved.

[mxrcusflint]

owe you a black eye and two kisses

bradley falls in love and lets himself. precursor to laws of gravity and parallel orbits but can be read as a stand-alone

“Fuck you,” Jake spits. “Well, that hasn’t changed, has it?” It slips out before Bradley can register. They avoid the topic, a livewire. They’ll insult each other until the cows come home, but won’t talk about Singapore, the beautiful lush humidity of it all. Two golden bodies from the Pacific sun, falling into each other to start the nosedive over again.  Bradley’s been told he’s unwittingly cruel, sometimes. It’s a grenade between them, but the words are out there now. It’s the easiest way to get what he wants: Jake, on him.  He’s crowded into Jake’s space by now, the room they’re in a hostile ground. Jake’s jaw clenches but he doesn’t back away, eyes darting over Bradley’s face.  “You’ve been itching for it since we got here,” Bradley raises his chin. He wants to stop. He can’t. “Should’ve just gone for it at the Hard Deck, saved us both some time.”

read on ao3 (hangster, 8.1k, canon-ish fic that I needed to get out of my system)