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[twotangledsisters]

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[rjthirsty]

Clavis Exhibitionism

Words: 2.1k

Tags: College AU, Sound Exhibitionism, Female Reader - Insert, PIV Sex, Creampie, Kinktober2024

“Perhaps we should be indulging in each other somewhere else.” Clavis offered as you snuck into his dorm room again.

Your very affectionate, very passionate, and very horny boyfriend somehow scored the room at the end of the hall, next to a fire exit that he'd let you in through, and the two of you had been making the most of it. To say you were fucking like rabbits was not far off. Every time you visited him you both ended up with your clothes stripped off, and utterly exhausted and pleasantly sore afterwards. Clavis had stamina for days. And you'd never been so taken care of before. 

“Wait, somewhere else? Why?” You went through the normal routine of removing your shoes and dropping onto his bed.

“The shifty fellow next door has made it clear he is aware of our activities.” Clavis shot a disapproving look at the wall he shared with his neighbor. 

That was quite the sentence. A multitude of emotions and thoughts simultaneously sprouted causing your jaw to drop and eyes to go wide as you turned to also look at the wall Clavis was frowning at. Your eyes darted back to Clavis and a surprised chuckle bubbled out from you as you tried not to grin too big. “You mean he can hear us?” You asked, stage whispering because now you're a little self conscious about being too loud.

“Apparently.” Clavis frowned deeper.

You bit your bottom lip, fingers covering your mouth as you touched your fingertips just above the peak of your top lip. It was shocking and delicious and kind of exciting and oh so very wrong, but incredibly bold for him to have said anything. “He's not going to snitch, right?”

“Oh, no. I don't believe that's the case.” Clavis answered, his golden gaze finally coming back to you. 

“Did he say what he heard?” Once again you bit your bottom lip, a devilish smile threatening to take over. 

“You're surprisingly inquisitive about this. Are you interested in that sort of thing?”

You set your palms on the mattress and give a small shrug with a playful head tilt, allowing the grin you've been trying to hold down to finally freely form. “And what if I am?”

Clavis’ lips quirked up in a teasing smirk. “Is that so~?”

He swept across his small bedroom to kneel in front of you, his low bed putting the both of you at nearly the same height. His fingers ghosted along the back of your ankles, sliding up your calves with the pressure of his touch increasing as he moved up your legs. “And here I thought you were an innocent one.”

You can't help but chuckle at his musing on your innocence. You were anything but. “We've all got something that excites us.”

Clavis’ hands pushed up your thighs, crossing onto your shorts where he hooked his fingers in the waistband. Eager for what was to come, you leaned back on his bed, resting on your elbows so you could lift your ass as he pulled your shorts and underwear free at the same time. He spread your legs and edged closer so he could sit between them. His fingers gripped your thighs, he had always loved your legs.

“What about you, Clavis? Doesn't the thought turn you on?” You rocked your hips from side to side, gently rolling your sex in front of him teasingly. “To know that despite our best efforts to keep me quiet, he can still hear how you make me moan. How many times have you had to cover my mouth because I couldn't think to do it myself? How many sounds did I bite down? All so we wouldn't get caught.”

His cock was steadily growing more stiff the more you spoke, and you were becoming more wet. You liked when he shushed you. You liked the thrill of being caught while he was fucking you senseless, how he had to kiss anywhere else but your mouth because to let your voice out would be the end of the fun you two had.

Clavis’ lips warmed your inner thigh. His hands gently caressed your naked legs. When he spoke, you could feel his mouth on your skin. “When you put it like that, it's almost flattering.”

“Mmhmm.” Your teeth toyed with your bottom lip. He was being a tease tonight. “And he's over there, getting turned on by us. But now how about I get the chance to moan your name? Can you imagine how sweet it would be to hear your name on my lips. He'd know how good you make me feel. He'd hear how often you were buried deep inside me. How many times you'd make me cum.”

Clavis slowly kissed up your inner thigh as you spoke. His tongue touched before lips met your leg, creeping ever closer to your waiting cunt. An appreciative groan came from him as an answer to your fantasy put into words.

“Let's make him wish he were you. Let's be noisy for once. Just this time. Let's make him envious. He could never have the real thing because I'm yours and you're the only one that can fuck me so good. Ah–” You gasped as Clavis finally reached your pussy, drawing a long lick between your folds. He repeated those delicious licks, wetting your clit by swirling his tongue around it. “Haah… nghn, Clavis.”

He moaned and the reverberation of his voice buzzed your sensitive bud. His lips puckered around it and he sucked your clit into a kiss. Fuck, he was so good with his tongue. He flicked the tip, caressed with flat licks, and varied the pressure as he played with your pussy. You could feel yourself leaking as your wetness dripped down your perineum.

Quiet keening leaked out of you. You were allowing yourself to make your enjoyment known, but still didn't want to get too loud. One neighbor knowing was fine. The whole hallway was not. Shifting, you brought your hand above your head and knocked purposefully against the shared wall. Clavis huffed mid-lick, his chuckle feeling foreign but decadent as he hummed before he spoke. “What a naughty vixen you are.”

“Uhnn--Clavis,” you moaned, his tongue circling your entrance. You wanted the guy next door to hear you call your lover's name. Imagining him pressing his ear against the wall to be certain he heard your moans thrilled you in a way you'd never experienced before.

The build up when Clavis used his mouth was always wonderful, but if you really wanted to scream you needed his cock inside you. “Mmmmn, Clavis?” You threaded your fingers through his hair. “Fuck me? Please?”

Clavis lifted his head to look at you, his golden eyes smoldering with lust. “Already? Impatient today? Or is it that you can't bear to be empty of me?”

He scrubbed a hand over his mouth to wipe your fluids from his face and worked his belt and pants loose. You crawled around the bed, turning so you were in it properly instead of short-wise how the two of you started. Knees bent, feet planted on the mattress, fingers fondling your stiff clit and the bundle of nerves that ran under the skin there, you licked your lips in anticipation as Clavis positioned himself between your knees.

“Fill me up.” You whispered seductively as you spread your labia and legs wider for him to fit.

Clavis sank into you. You were so wet he didn't need any additional strokes to bury himself fully in your cunt. He filled you and you pulsated around his cock. “Oh fuck, oh God, haaahnngh– Clavis!”

Your voice must have sparked something in him, because he gave you no time to adjust, pumping into you right away. His cock pushed into your cunt, rubbing your walls that were still trying to manage his size while also flexing around him. Ah, he felt so good, so hard. You loved to feel him bare inside you. 

Clavis scooped up your ankles, one at a time, setting your knees on his shoulders, kissing the inside of your leg as he put each one into place. Your pussy squeezed him tighter with your legs pressed together rather than spread wide around his hips. He loved the way you felt, too. The way your folds slid against his dick, the way your inner walls fluttered around him and how you felt where his tip rubbed your insides.

A moan escaped you, low and drawn out as he adjusted to push you into a mating press. His cock going even deeper and nudging against that sweet spot that made your eyes roll back. One of his hands grabbed your hip, as if to hold you in place as he pumped faster and pounded harder. His fingers dug into your soft flesh, leaving marks that wouldn’t bruise but would stay red for some time to come.

Instinctively, you went to cover your mouth, but remembering that you intended to put on a show for Clavis’ neighbor, you instead bit your knuckle as you let your squeaks and gasps pass through clenched teeth. Clavis was more enthusiastic than usual, his hips slapping against your ass, literally pounding the sounds out of your throat with every thrust, his weight rocking you and the bed.

Your fingers on your free hand dug into the comforter. You were close, the pressure in your belly growing tighter and tighter. Spreading your legs to drop them from Clavis’ shoulders, you opened your hips for him and felt him sink that last half-inch from nothing padding between your hips and his. His cock bottomed out, his pelvis completely flush with yours. Just a little longer and you’d be coming, you were so. Very. Close.

The noises you were making must have clued him in because after a few thrusts as deep as he could reach, Clavis ground his sex against yours, churning his cock inside you. The way his pubis mons rubbed against your clit while his dick rubbed you from the inside was exactly what you needed.

The stimulation sent the pressure bursting inside you. It snapped, cracking like a whip to the back of your skull. You might have been whimpering and keening before, but now you let out full blown moans that you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. Every breath, every exhale had you loudly crying out as your cunt spasmed and clenched again and again while Clavis refused to relent, continuing to stimulate you and draw your orgasm out.

He rode through it, enjoying the way you squeezed and milked him. Dropping down to press kiss after kiss against your parted lips, he resumed rocking into you once you finally regained the ability to control your voice again. He hadn’t yet finished, and from the way he was stroking himself with your pussy, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Clavis always slowed down right before coming, like he needed to draw out the feeling of you on his cock.

“Mmmmmn. Haaaah.” You allowed yourself to make pleasurable sounds, feeling every part of his dick rubbing against your sensitive insides. Unintentionally, your cunt clenched, perhaps you liked to hear yourself too? You had never really considered it before. “Nnngh, Clavis.”

As his name passed your lips, Clavis bucked into you. Without pulling out, he thrust against you again, and then a third time, trying to bury himself deeper, his biological need to pour his seed as deep as he can taking over.

“Oh fuck–nnngh!” You couldn’t feel his seed spilling inside you, but the way his cock throbbed, and the way his hips connected with yours was telling enough. And damn! It felt so good to have him thrusting so deeply, unable to pull himself free of his instincts. Like your sexes were communicating, you couldn’t help as your pussy spasmed in response to his cock pulsating inside you. 

Clavis cuddled against you on top of you, and you brushed your fingers through his hair. It wouldn’t take him long to be ready to go again, his cock rarely ever got soft once it was hard. The both of you took your time to catch your breath, nuzzling in the warmth of each other and the heat you had generated. Your lips connected, and wet kisses were shared between the both of you. His tongue sought yours and you matched his enthusiasm.

Clavis’ hands began to wander over your body, groping all the places he hadn’t had a chance to, yet. Then an uncommon sound came from the wall shared with the neighboring room. A purposeful knock. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Your jaw dropped and Clavis’ eyes went wide before you both erupted into laughter.

“What do you say we give him another round to listen to?” You giggled, fingers trailing over Clavis’ lower back.

“Only if you make those same sounds, again. You sang beautifully.” Clavis shifted, covering your mouth with his and coaxing a low moan out of your throat.

[lucienarcheron]

Spirit Meets the Bones XXXIII

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Author’s Note:  Thank you for reading <3 I hope you enjoy this next chapter and where the story is going :)

thank you @elidelochans for always being my beta <3

tagging: @climb-the-mountian / @zenkindoflove / @animezinglife / @rosewood-cafe / @vanserrass / @positivewitch / @clockwork-ashes / @carnythian / @secret-third-thing / @runningwiththeoceans / @that-golden-lyre / @thedarkinmansfield / @readychilledwine / @goldenmagnolias / @mali22 / @readthelastpaage / @maidr-00 / @electromagnetic-waves / @eastofatlanta / @moobell55 / @bibliophiliaxvignette / @devilsfoodcake22 / @weesablackbeak / @ladywhilemia / @alohaangels / @feysandfeels / @corcracrow / @dawneternal / @gracie-rosee / @mage-neve / @illyrianvalkyrie / @saint-stella / @rainbowsnowflake / @queenoftheworld1998 / @wolvesnravens

Find it all here.

When two days passed, Eris gathered with his brothers and mother in her garden. For this conversation, Iris stood by his side. He had carefully shielded their scents and if his brothers noticed, they didn’t comment. 

He may trust them but as he shared a glance with his wife, Eris couldn’t help but want to keep this…gift to himself a little longer. If they made it through this, Eris would let himself reflect on how the Mother had a strange sense of humor; to give him Iris with the possibility of losing her. 

Then again, the Mother knew this would be a hard fight. Sending his mate only gave him more reason to insist on making it out. 

“You don’t think it’s too dangerous to be gathered like this in one place?” Lady Enya asked in the silence, her hands wringing in her lap. 

“I glamored us as we arrived,” Eris assured her. “No one saw us coming in.” 

But his mother was more nervous than usual, which added to his stress. Eris could tell she was tired and it made him want to choke his father more viciously than usual; that fucker knew his wife hated his guts and yet he kept his paws all over her. 

Forcing the thought from his mind, his expression tight, he addressed his mother with a nod. “Are you prepared?” he asked. “Do you have everything you need?”

Lady Enya nodded, her hands clenching in her gown. “Yes,” she answered, clearing her throat. “I don’t wish to take anything with me but the clothes on my back. I have nothing of value that I shared with him.” 

The words made him grimace. He knew his mother hadn’t meant her words to be about her sons but it didn’t stop the sting of knowing how she had held herself back. It didn’t hurt any less that she had endured all this because of them. For them. 

The brothers shared a frown.

“I’ve checked with every one of my sources and nothing seems to be amiss,” Emil said, his arms crossed. “My soldiers are ready.”

Izak, seated next to their mother, nodded. “The same with mine. Everything is going according to plan.” 

“What about Lucien?” Finn asked. 

“I’ve been in touch. Everything is fine on his end.” Eris confirmed. “Winter and Dawn have given us passage to winnow from the court lines.”

“No questions asked?” Iris inquired carefully. 

“Lucien has enough connections that no one bats an eye when he mentions he’s passing through with people,” he explained. “Especially when Helion and Rhys are welcoming. There’s no reason to object when there won’t be lingering.”

“Does Rhys know?” Lady Enya asked quietly. 

A muscle flexed in Eris’s jaw. “Rhys has always known this day would come but he doesn’t ask questions. He knows it’s near.” 

Finn shifted on his feet. “We’ve checked and triple-checked everything. Things are going according to plan and yet…why does it feel like something isn’t right?”

“Because we’re a bunch of paranoid motherfuckers.” Izak said then glanced at his mother. “Apologies, mother.”

The corner of Iris’s lips twitched as her mother-in-law rolled her eyes at her son and she couldn’t help but let her gaze shift between the brothers and their mother, feeling slightly out of place. This was her first time meeting Emil and Izak personally and other than an awkward greeting, they kept their distance; the tension lining Eris’s back and the way he watched his brothers with every breath they took near her had Iris do the same. Given what Eris had shared with her about each of them, Iris couldn’t help but have a soft spot for the brothers who were all trying to find the light with love as they battled their own demons. It didn’t change how close Eris had her stand and if anything, his brothers understood his possessiveness too well, even if they didn’t know to what extent.

The last two nights seemed to escalate his levels of stress and Iris had watched him have to expel his anger, nearly setting their whole suite aflame to get himself through the day. He’d leave her early and return late, checking in with her periodically throughout the day and whenever he did, they would end up releasing his stress in a much more intimate way. Iris had found that whenever his body was draped over hers, was the only time he actually relaxed. 

Even in his sleep, her husband struggled and she found herself awake more often, watching him as he shuddered through every breath. 

Iris kept her eyes on Eris as he ran his tongue over his teeth, sharing a look with Emil. “We did find one idiot who was ready to sell out,” he said carefully. “He was hoping to get in with the High Lord and rise through the rankings.” 

“And what happened to him?” Finn asked, his tone casual.

“By the time Eris and I got to him, our sentries had let him know exactly how they felt about ruining our chances,” Emil said, the corner of his mouth lifting. “We aren’t the only ones desperate for change.”

“I would’ve cut out his tongue.” Izak huffed.

“Emil did,” Eris said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Then we hung him in the center of the training ring with a knife lodged in his throat.”

“That seems unnecessary.” Lady Enya muttered mildly.

But Finn nodded at them. “Nice.”

“You have a very odd definition of nice.” Iris said with a raised brow and Finn’s answering grin was a little too sinister. 

“I would’ve carved out his internal organs to hang him by and then pinned his body to the wall with knives so he could bleed to death, slowly and painfully. What they did was nice.” he said and Iris couldn’t help her grimace.

“Please –” their mother started and glanced at Eris who sighed.

“Let’s focus,” he waved a hand. “We have another week before this hell is over. Keep straightening things out. If you hear even a whisper of something, you let me know immediately.” Eris glanced back at his mother. “We wait for the signal that Helene, Theo, and Cosette are fine. We dance. We mingle. Once Father gives his bore of a speech like every year, Emil will be walking you to where you will meet Mikel and then to where you will meet Iris and Oren. From there, you two will pretend to walk towards your gardens until you cross the gates. Serphan will winnow you to Lucien and then report back to me. Helion will also be waiting.”

Lady Enya swallowed, a hand rubbing her throat. “And they – Lucien knows what to do in case something goes wrong?”

Eris nodded then gave them all a pointed look. “Rumor has it that our youngest brother was invited and he may be making an appearance,” he said. “Should he need to use it, he knows the code. Each of our sentries has a uniform color. Lucien knows my insignia and who he can ask if needed.” 

A silence fell on the group and Iris’s gaze couldn’t help but flicker between them all. She couldn’t imagine how long they’d been waiting for this and how these last few days were causing more agony than anything else. 

Lady Enya broke the silence first, rubbing a shaky hand to her forehead. “I’m – I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry to be causing all this.” 

A collective noise of disapproval rang from the brothers and she looked at them with a watery smile. 

“But I am. I always will be,” she added, her grip tightening in the folds of her dress. “If I could stay and help avoid all this, I would but I  — I can’t anymore.”

“Mother.” Finn chasted her gently and his expression tightened when Izak wrapped his burly arm around their mother’s delicate frame and kissed the top of her head. 

“Don’t apologize,” Izak said. “We can’t keep living this way regardless.”

“Enough is enough,” Emil added solemnly. “We are more than what he’s forced us to be.” 

Eris met his mother’s gaze. “You are a phoenix ready to rise from the ashes, remember?” he asked quietly. “Don’t look back now.” 

Lady Enya glanced at each of her sons and then took a shaky breath. “You are all the light of my life. I am proud of each of you and know you will always be more than he could ever dream. Better than he could ever dare to be.” she said softly. “I love you.” 

And Iris had to look away from them as each of the brothers, including her husband, flushed lightly at their mother’s words. But she could feel their content, felt how it filled them with joy and Iris felt an ache in her chest. She hadn’t met her own mother but Lady Enya had easily and so quickly filled that role. This wasn’t her moment and yet Iris felt so honored to be a part of it.

Clearing his throat, Izak gruffly mumbled, “We love you too.”  

Lady Enya chuckled and patted Izak’s cheek. “I know, my beautiful boy,” she said, then sighed quietly, straightening. “Do not underestimate him. He will not respond well and I know he has something up his sleeve.” 

“The bridal party waiting for us isn’t for nothing,” Emil mused. “He’s invited every influential family in the court and somehow, they all have eligible daughters.” 

“We dance and we mingle,” Eris repeated his instructions firmly. “Lying is a form of art we’ve excelled at for years. It won’t kill you to dance with a potential bride to keep up the ruse.” 

“Yeah, but Helene might kill me.” Izak mumbled and Finn snorted as Iris’s lips twitched. 

“Considering Father might kill you first should you not dance, you’ll have to risk it,” Eris said dryly. “He’s surrounding himself with people like him for a reason. He believes in the strength of numbers and has purposely kept some of the guest list names from mother.”

“I think it’s a mighty coincidence that this particular ball is the one he’s having potential brides from powerful families attend,” Emil said. “If the High Lord is promising your daughter a prince, you’d be more than happy to side with a tyrant than against him.”

“It might not be to the extent that families have turned,” Finn said. “But it doesn’t help us if he has some of them present.”

Izak shook his head. “Those families have always been in his pocket, they keep each other comfortable. We knew this.”

“Those families are full of nothing but lofty words.” Lady Enya added. “Nothing in the preparations should change but I still don’t think you should trust them.” 

Finn glanced at Eris. “Once we’re done with Father, we get to clean out the garbage, right?”

“Whoever does not bend to the new ruling will be taken out immediately,” Eris said, his expression tightening. “We know who these people are. They have one chance to make the right choice or they won’t live to make another one.” He glanced at each of his brothers. “This is the only shot we have to disinfect this court and make it into something worth living in. This is bigger than just us.” 

“You should anticipate your father being there.” Lady Enya said to Iris. “He was one of the people the High Lord insisted on adding to the guest list and I don’t see Aron declining the invitation.”

Iris grimaced, her fists clenching at her sides. “I have no doubt he’ll be there,” she said then glanced at Eris. “Even if he knows he’s not wanted.” 

“Especially if he knows he’s not wanted,” Eris muttered. “He knows what awaits him should he step one toe out of line.” And he forced himself to roll his shoulders back, pushing back the surge of anger thumping in his chest at the mention of his father-in-law. He glanced at Izak instead and waved a hand for a letter to appear then flicked it to his brother. “Lucien let me know this morning that Helene and her mother have been settling in nicely. She sent you a letter.” 

Izak caught it and held it tightly, nodding at Eris. “Thank you.” 

Eris nodded back and then glanced at Emil. “Cosette?”

“She’s ready to leave.” his brother answered tightly.

“Adler?”

“He knows his orders.” 

Eris nodded again and ran a hand through his hair. “We have to be on guard for anything.”

“I know.” 

Eris shifted as he stared at his family, feeling the blood pumping beneath his skin. “If –”

“Eris.” Emil’s calm tone cut through his. “We’ve done every single thing we could. The only thing we can do is set it in motion and make it through.” 

Taking a breath through his nose, Eris let his head fall back, his eyes on the open air above them. “I won’t pretend I’m not filled with dread and it’s been getting harder to tighten the leash on my powers,” he mumbled then fixed his gaze back on his brothers. “I set fire to one of the stables yesterday because Father made a snippy comment.”

“What a pity he wasn’t standing in it,” Finn said, his lips twitching and Eris snorted. 

“Pity, indeed.” 

Iris’s gaze locked on Eris and his tightened shoulders and she couldn’t help stepping closer to him, her hand sliding to his back as she leaned into him. He glanced at her with a thin smile then cleared his throat, addressing them all. 

“He’s going to make this a hard fight. We fight as dirty as he does.” Eris said firmly. “Whatever it takes.”

It fell silent as his brothers nodded. His mother’s eyes welled up again, and Eris had to look away from her so it didn’t pain him. He glanced at Iris instead, and even though her smile was a small sad one, it managed to loosen a breath from his chest. Whatever it took, he would crawl his way out of this and back to her. 

“Well,” Finn began and Eris let out a long-suffering sigh echoed by Emil and Izak. “He can’t kill all of us, right? One of us has to survive him to continue the Vanserra line.” 

“Finn.” Eris warned as their mother made a noise of distress.

“What? I’m only reassuring you once again, that if the task comes to me, I would be happy to marry all your lovely ladies and take care of them should you all bite the dust at the ball,” Finn said graciously.

“Don’t you have a certain someone in your life?” Iris asked, holding back a laugh and Finn waved a hand good-naturedly.

“He’s very reasonable, you’ll love him,” he reassured Iris as he wiggled his brows at her. “You won’t mind having sister wives, right? As the wife of my oldest brother, you would be my first wedded, of course.”

Before Eris could do more than snarl rather viciously at his brother’s teasing, Iris held a hand to her husband’s chest and raised a brow at Finn. “It’s sweet you think you can handle one wife, much less three,” she said then turned back to Eris. “If you bite the dust as your brother says, I promise I won’t marry him.” She patted his chest gently. “But, you’ll be perfectly safe so there’s nothing to worry about. You don’t need to punch him.” 

Eris scowled then narrowed his eyes at Finn’s smug smile. “I still want to punch him.”

“We can save it for another day. When all this is over.” Iris couldn’t help but glance at the rest of them. “When we’re all safe. You can punch each other all you want then.” 

“Your wife is an optimist,” Emil noted, tilting his head at her curiously. “What a fate to be married to a Vanserra.”  

Iris’s lips twitched then made a show of stepping back to run her gaze down Eris’s body and back up. Eris’s brow lifted as she made a noise of approval. “Well, he is pretty so it balances out all the struggle,” she said and Eris rolled his eyes as she turned back to shrug at his brothers. “It isn’t much, but it’s honest work.” 

Izak’s head tipped back with a laugh as Finn hooted and Emil couldn’t help his chuckle. 

And Eris wanted to devour her when she gave him a cheeky smile that made him roll his eyes again. “Hysterical,” he deadpanned, the tips of his ears heating at his mother’s small smile. 

“I told you she was funny,” Finn said to his brothers. 

“My wife’s jokes and Finn’s enthusiasm to marry females who won’t want him aside –” Eris began, warning Finn with a look when his brother opened his mouth. “We’ve lingered enough, I think. Should anything else come up, be quick and be discreet.” 

The brothers let themselves slowly disperse with Emil vanishing first then Finn. Izak delayed for a moment and approached Iris with a thin smile. Eris’s brow quirked up as his brother ran a hand over his beard, his expression curiously cautious. “I just wanted to say…I think you and Helene would get along well,” he said and glanced at Eris before meeting Iris’s gaze. “It’s not easy being married to a Vanserra but…I think you two could be friends. If – if you wanted.” 

Iris’s smile was warm. “Based on what Eris mentioned to me, I think so too. I look forward to meeting her when I can.” she said then added quietly, “Congratulations on the pregnancy.” 

Izak flushed, pleased as he nodded. “Thank you. I’ll see you again at the ball.” 

As Izak departed and only his mother remained, Eris gave her a moment as she took in her gardens, her expression tight. He knew this place had always been a sanctuary for her and though she’d be leaving it behind for a better place, he knew it wouldn’t be easy. 

“Mother.”

Lady Enya turned towards him. “Yes?”

“If needed…will you be ready to use your magic?” he asked carefully and his mother took a breath, nodding.

“Yes. Whatever I can do, I will support your every step,” she said, her expression shifting into grim determination. “Whatever it takes, Eris.”

He nodded at his mother then shared a glance with his wife and Iris’s smile was tight as Eris promised, “Whatever it takes.” 

-

Eris blinked and as the ball crept closer, he barely slept. He went about his daily routine, spent time with his wife, and plotted through the night. He tried to be more relaxed, tried to stay focused but as everything slowly came together, he couldn’t help but anticipate that something would go wrong. He’d readjusted his plan with Oren, Mikel, and Seprhan twice already; he was driving his friends crazy. 

The feeling intensified when it was finally the night before the ball and his Father summoned him to the throne room. Eris had hesitated for only a moment in front of the door, the memory of the last time he was summoned here lingering in the back of his mind. But he forced himself forward and allowed himself a glance around the room as he walked towards where his father stood, taking in the splendor of decor as he went. His mother always outdid herself with the way she planned for these events. He knew how this particular event was one of significance and didn’t miss the little signs around the room. The abundance of gold. The wisps of fire magic. The miniature phoenix art scattered around the room. His lips couldn’t help but twitch. 

Eris paused a healthy distance from the High Lord who stood with his back to him, facing the throne. As his Father deliberately took his time to acknowledge him, Eris ran his tongue over his teeth and made himself take a deep breath, schooling his expression into that careful calm he desperately needed around his least favorite person. 

After a few moments of silence, Eris clenched his fists behind his back and cleared his throat. “You called, Father.”

Beron glanced over his shoulder and then made a noise of disapproval as he turned to face his son. The two watched each other in silence and though Eris was used to his father’s mind games, something about this summoning felt…sinister.

Beron gestured for Eris to come closer and immediately, his shoulders couldn’t help tensing further.

But Eris moved and stopped at the place Beron had pointed to, right in front of him. “Do you know why I called you here, son?”

“I really hope it’s because you missed me,” Eris said with a thin smile. “Otherwise my feelings will be hurt.” 

Beron snorted. “Funny,” he said and shifted his head slightly as he watched Eris. “I wonder if you get your humor from your wife. I hear she’s very funny.” 

A beat of silence passed and Eris felt his heart nearly leap out of his chest. “Pray tell, who has been passing along her jokes?”

His father’s answering smile made Eris’s fists tighten. “The wind carries all kinds of whispers, son. I didn’t realize it was a secret.”

The moment stretched between them and Eris tried to keep the beating of his heart calm as his father watched him. What did that even mean? Who was talking?

The High Lord’s mouth curled and Eris tried to tamper down his agitation as his father added, “Then again, everything about your wife would be a secret if it was up to you.” 

Eris’s expression flattened. “Are we really doing this again, Father?” he said and tried to keep his tone even. “I thought we were past this.” 

“Of course, of course,” Beron said casually. “Though how sensitive you are about her is still concerning, I suppose we have other things to worry about with our big event tomorrow.”

Tension lined Eris’s spine as he watched his father watch him, every sentence loaded with words left unsaid, and Eris’s mind scrambled to catch it all. “Indeed,” he said carefully. “What can I assist you with, Father?”

“Always so eager to assist, son,” Beron said. “Sometimes I forget just how much.”

Eris’s gaze narrowed slightly in confusion. He didn’t want to believe his father was bored and wasting his time like this. Eris could barely keep awake these days; with this last night, he wanted to be alone with his wife. His mate. He wanted that fucken time with her. 

Yet here he was, squandering that time with this.

“Is there anything about the event tomorrow you’d like me to do? I do believe everything has been taken care of.” 

“I didn’t call you here for that.” Beron said and Eris lifted a brow.

“If not that, to what do I owe the pleasure of being here?”

The words seemed to cause a slight shift in his father and Eris noted exactly when his expression went from amused disdain to anger.

“You overstep and I tire of it.”

Eris blinked. “Oh?”

“You are my eldest son. I acknowledge that a certain load of responsibility has been expected of you and even added to your shoulders. You have always done your duty as required and yet…” Beron pursed his lips, his gaze narrowing. “The past few months, you have overstepped so very often.”

Eris forced his expression into polite indifference. “Is there something I did in particular that bothered you deeply enough to summon me?” he asked and his father’s eyes narrowed. “I would like to ensure I apologize profusely for my errors.”

“You and that fucken mouth of yours.” Beron snarled and backhanded Eris so quickly he barely took a breath, his face snapping to the side and Eris nearly swore at the sheer force that went into his father’s hand. 

Oh, the High Lord was pissed to be this triggered by his tone.

Eris ran his tongue over his teeth, slowly facing his father again and he knew there was nothing to be done about the anger that coursed through his body – anger he knew the High Lord felt despite the bland expression Eris managed to push through on his face. “That seemed rather unnecessary.” he managed to say lightly, even though his fisted hands were shaking violently behind his back. “Was it something I said, High Lord?”

And this time when his father lifted his hand in warning, Eris leaned back, his expression flattening again. “I can handle words, Father. You don’t need to put your hands on me to tell me when I’ve supposedly wronged you.” 

His father’s mouth curled in anger and the High Lord stepped into Eris’s personal space even further. “Back away from me again and a flogging pole will be the least of your worries.”

A strained silence pulsed in the air between them and Eris knew he was venturing into dangerous territory when he couldn’t hold in his humorless laugh and his father’s eyes narrowed.

“And get blood all over the floor? That wouldn’t be the kind of welcome you’d want to give our guests.”

Beron yanked Eris by the front of his tunic. “Keep speaking in that sarcastic tone and your body hanging by the gates will be what welcomes the guests instead.” 

Eris felt his fire nearly burst out of him, his anger shooting up his spine but he held that leash on his magic and held it tight because he wouldn’t blow up here. Given the kind of pressure he’d been under the last three weeks, it would be so fucken easy to unleash everything and be done. 

But no. Not now. Not when they were so fucken close. Not when they could wipe the slate clean in front of the whole court and step into a new age with history on their side.

Nevertheless, Eris couldn’t stop the steam from pouring out of him and he certainly couldn’t stop his glare when his Father’s cold smirk appeared. 

“I don’t know if that would match the theme Mother’s going for this year.” Eris said tightly as he tried to reign in his anger even as Beron’s answering chuckle was laced with cruelty.

“You keep speaking to me that way and your mother will have more things to worry about than her tacky theme.” Beron spat then shoved Eris back. “Fix your face and apologize.” 

A muscle flexed in Eris’s jaw as father and son stared down one another. They had barely started talking and his father was already goading him just to lay hands on him. Had the High Lord sensed anything amiss? What was it that seemed to be putting his father in such a foul mood? 

Eris’s hands remained behind his back, flexing his fingers then fisting them again as he forced himself to bow his head and as calmly as he could choke out said, “Apologies, High Lord.” 

Beron’s head cocked to the side. “An apology should come with a full bow, boy. Do not disrespect me.” 

Eris’s expression blanked immediately and he forced his body not to react negatively, not to tense further. His well of power would not be blown away on this. This was nothing. He’d tolerated more. 

So forcing himself once more, Eris bowed fully to his father and said as dull as possible, “Apologies, High Lord.”

His father said nothing for a moment and Eris took the opportunity to glare at the sparkling floors they stood on. When another minute ticked by in silence, he couldn’t help but lift his head to find his father smirking at him. And that was never good.

Especially when he opened his mouth and said, “Your wife says my High Lord. You should say it the way she does.” 

Eris’s body straightened before he could stop himself, his vision going red and the only thing that managed to hold him back from ripping his father’s throat out was the laugh that slipped out of the High Lord’s mouth, mocking him.

“You’re so easy to rile these days.” Beron taunted. “Which goes to show you how bad of an influence that wife of yours is.” Giving Eris a sly look, his father continued, “Maybe you should pick out a new bride tomorrow.” 

Eris didn’t bother fighting back his eye roll, despite how much his clenched fists were shaking. “This conversation is getting tedious, Father,” he said curtly. “May I please know what it is you wish to discuss with me?”

The High Lord’s expression filled with contempt as he stared down his son, the silence between them was heavy with trepidation. 

“Tedious, you say.”

“Yes. We both know there are about a thousand other things we could be doing instead of this little dance between us.” 

Beron made a disinterested noise. “I had no plans other than to fuck your mother this evening. Though her lack of enthusiasm doesn’t make it as enjoyable as it could be, it is better than nothing.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Eris snapped and nothing could stop his fists from catching flame. “Show some respect when you speak about her.” 

And Eris knew his father’s fist would fly out. H​​e let it. He let the taste of blood fill his mouth as he staggered back a step from the blow. His father seemed to be spiraling. He had lashed out at stupid things before but this? To this extent? Eris felt the pit of his stomach give out. Could it be that something had slipped through the cracks?

“I will speak about my wife as I see fit. You do not get to insert yourself between us.” Beron spat and Eris wiped a hand at his mouth with a huff of disbelief. His father’s expression of disdain remained as he took a step closer to his son. “This is your problem. You are always inserting yourself in places you don’t need to be. You do it with your mother. You do it with your brothers. You did it in a meeting the other day with our council while I was in the room.” The High Lord glared and Eris had to fight with all the willpower he had to calm his shaking hands – to smother his flames. “You know why I called you here? To discuss how you intervened between me and your brothers the other day. An intervention I did not welcome.” His father’s gaze raked over his face. “I’ve tolerated your overstepping in the past because you followed orders – you get things done. However, I will not tolerate your overstepping tomorrow, especially in front of the many important guests that will be present. You will remember your place and watch how you behave.” 

The High Lord’s voice was nothing but a lethal threat as he said, “The next time you get between me and your brothers so carelessly like that, you will take the brunt of their discipline.” 

Eris tried to keep his expression from shifting at the promise filled with violence. This whole conversation was bringing all the stress he had been carrying and crashing it down on his head. It seemed that indeed, his command of his brothers had finally seemed to bother his father enough that he was finally saying something about it. What convenient fucken timing. 

Beron’s expression morphed into one of cruel amusement. “Your hair is only just starting to grow out. It’s too early for another new look, don’t you agree?”

And the warning was clear – a reminder of what the High Lord would be happy to do again in this very room. 

Eris pursed his lips, his heart thundering in his chest at his father’s gaze filled with violence as clear as the tone he used. He nearly choked as his magic surged up again, desperately wanting to answer it but instead, Eris forced himself to breathe slowly, the leash on his magic held tight as he said carefully, “I merely wished to help, Father. I didn’t realize it would bother this much.”

“I do not require your help to make your brothers fall in line. You should be falling in line with them.” the High Lord snapped. “Your help has become an insult.”

Eris’s jaw worked and again, he forced himself to bow his head graciously even though he wanted to do anything but – his father had already laid his hands on him twice; he couldn’t afford to keep giving him reasons to lash out. So Eris only said, “Duly noted.”

Silence stretched between them and Eris waited, knowing a threat was coming up. His father liked to play games and loved to waste his time. Minutes ticked away and Eris couldn’t help the flare of his nostrils when his father’s mouth curled up.

“Eris.”

“Father.”

“Tomorrow is a very big day,” Beron said slowly and took a step closer to him. “I’d hate for things to go wrong should any of you decide to do something foolish.” 

A chill skittered down his spine but Eris’s expression remained politely bored. The comment didn’t have to mean anything. His father didn’t know anything. The High Lord was only lashing out because Eris hadn’t said the right things to him, because he wasn’t being as careful as he could be. He would blame it on the stress and would not let himself believe anything else.

“Other than drinking excessively,” he said as nonchalantly as possible, “I don’t foresee any trouble.”

Beron hummed, watching Eris in a way that always made his skin crawl. “Your father-in-law will be in attendance. I expect you and your wife to behave accordingly.”

Annoyance flashed on Eris’s face before he could stop it. “I am aware. He’ll do well to steer clear of us completely, Father. That is my only request to you.”

“And if I refused?”

Eris forced his expression to blank pleasantness again, noting the movement of his father’s hands. “Then I cannot promise there won’t be trouble should his path cross ours.” 

“Is that a threat, son?”

“Never, Father,” he said with a small smile. “I am merely setting expectations.”  

Beron’s eyes narrowed and it was a deadly type of silence between them, the type of silence that Eris knew, had his father not needed him to be presentable tomorrow, Eris’s face would’ve met his fire rather than his fist. “You were my favorite son.” his father said quietly. “I do not like who you’ve become.” 

Eris could only slowly shrug his shoulders. “I’m sorry to be of constant disappointment, Father,” he replied and wished he could tell his father exactly how sorry he was – how much being the so-called favorite had cost him. 

Beron scowled and grabbed Eris’s face with a hand, tugging him closer. “Do not think I haven’t noticed how abysmal your attitude has been lately but I will warn you one last time,” his father said quietly, enough violence in his tone that Eris knew not to move. “Should you do anything that isn’t a direct order from me – anything that isn’t what I expect of you, I will make you pay in ways that’ll be worse than your nightmares.” Beron shoved him back and Eris couldn’t help his expression darkening at his father’s glare. “All this family has ever been is disappointing. Let’s hope you and your useless brothers don’t make matters worse for yourselves tomorrow.” 

The High Lord shoved past Eris but paused half a step away and Eris turned his head without a word, only raising a brow at the loaded silence between them. 

But then his father’s nostrils flared and Eris felt his blood run cold. He didn’t dare breathe and mentally checked his shields, knowing he had reinforced it around his scent before he came anywhere near his father, and yet…what exactly was the High Lord sensing?

His father merely gave him a once over then spat, “I’ll see you and your wife tomorrow. I hope you remember to make good choices.” 

And the High Lord’s goodbye felt like a promise full of death. Eris waited a few moments in tense silence, his blood thumping in his ears and when he was sure he was indeed alone, he closed his eyes to let out a deep shaky breath, feeling steam rise from his hands. His anxiety had returned in full force at his father’s departure. His father couldn’t have sensed anything, could he? Eris had glamoured his scent well; no one could note his mating bond, especially without Iris near him. If his father had scented his wife on him, that wouldn’t be unusual but Eris was too careful even for that. 

He ran a shaky hand through his hair and let himself linger for another moment, eyes flickering around the room, letting himself see it as it was for the last time. With a sigh, he turned on his heels and left the throne room. 

He needed to warn his brothers. 

–

Iris watched as Eris finally stepped into their suite and slammed the door behind him. He had taken longer than she had anticipated and the anxiety that had been squeezing around her chest immediately loosened when she saw that he was whole and unharmed. Her heart had stopped when Eris had told her about the High Lord’s meeting and the only reason Iris had survived waiting was because she distracted herself on the piano. 

Everything was supposed to be set. Everything was in place and yet, the tension that seeped into the room with him made her nervous. She hated that what could be their final night together was filled with such emotions. 

She rose from her place on the piano and walked over to him then stopped in her tracks, noting the slight bruise on his cheek, the cut on his lip. “What happened.” 

Her voice was more hushed than intended but if not for that, Iris knew she would start to panic. She moved closer until she stood before him and let her healing senses reach out, not wanting to touch him just yet – not until she was sure he wanted her touch at this moment. But she sensed nothing amiss aside from the evidence on his face and had to swallow when she met his blank stare. “What was this about?” she asked softly.

Eris had to calmly count to ten and let out a long breath before he could speak, “I seemed to have gotten under the High Lord’s skin when I supposedly overstepped and intervened between him and my brothers the other day.” he explained and Iris watched with a grimace as his fists tightened at his sides. “He wanted to remind me of my place and to watch my tone because apparently, my sarcasm doesn’t translate well.” 

“So he finally noticed and said something about it?”

“Funny how he’s always benefited from me doing all his work for him and now has the nerve to get annoyed by it,” Eris grumbled then shook his head. “He wanted to warn us – me to behave tomorrow.” 

Iris felt her heart stutter in her chest. “Warn how?” 

“He wanted to make sure I didn’t intervene in my brother’s whore parade so they could pick wives.” 

Iris brows furrowed. “Given that they’re all in committed relationships, I don’t think it’s going to go the way he wants.”

“Hopefully, by the end of the night tomorrow, he’ll be dead and we won’t have to worry about him at all,” Eris spat and rolled his head back, breathing deeply and Iris felt his frustration seep off him.

She frowned and stopped in front of him, assessing his expression then reached out a hand to gently touch him. She waited a heartbeat, giving him the chance to push her hand away if he wanted to but Eris couldn’t seem to help but shudder at the touch, and after a moment’s hesitation, he turned his face to kiss her hand softly. “You’re almost there. Tomorrow, you all will be free of him. You’ve prepared as best as you can.” she said softly, letting her magic wipe away his hurt.

“I know and yet, I don’t feel prepared at all,” he said quietly and Iris had never seen his eyes so tired. “I feel like it’s going to all go to hell and I’m going to drag you all down with me.” 

Iris cupped his face and forced him to meet her gaze. “Everyone is ready to go down swinging with you, Eris. This is not on your shoulders alone,” she said. “Please…unburden yourself.” 

He shook his head slowly and pulled her hands from his face to hold in his own. “My head isn’t wired to do that,” he said. “I’m thinking about all of the things that could go wrong.”

“But what about all the things that could go right?” Iris asked, squeezing his hands.

Eris’s chuckle was weak. “How I ended up with an optimistic wife really is a comical event. You truly did marry into the wrong family.” 

The corner of Iris’s mouth lifted. “Fate does work in mysterious ways.” 

“Indeed,” he agreed, then took a step back, his expression shifting. “Do you have all your items prepared for tomorrow? Aside from the bag we sent ahead to Lucien and Elain’s.”

She tried not to let her face fall and nodded. “I have a small satchel and daggers to hide beneath my dress.”

“You know where you’ll be meeting Oren?”

“Yes.”

“And the drop-off location where you’ll winnow to reach Lucien?” 

“Yes, Eris,” she said wearily. “We went over all this in the morning.”

“And we shall review it again tomorrow. I cannot take any risks when it comes to you.” he said and Iris gave him a knowing look.

“I know,” she said quietly. “Do you want to try and get some sleep? It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

Eris shook his head, his fists clenching at his sides. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep. I’m too tense. Too nervous.” he said and licked his lips, glancing at her in a way that made her pause.

She waited a heartbeat then asked, “...Is there something else?”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, his expression tight but with a sigh, Eris explained quietly, “When he was walking away from me, he paused a step away and…seemed to sense something in the air next to me.” 

Iris froze in his arms. “And you think that means…he knows something?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “Why else would he do that? You mentioned in the stables he seemed to sense something around you. What if he sensed something from me? What if he knows?”

“Eris –”

“Iris, I can’t – how can I —” he growled and his grip on her tightened. “If he knows and pulls some shit tomorrow that would harm you in any way I —”

“Eris.” Her tone was firm enough that it made him pause, his expression stricken in a way that made her chest ache for him. “It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“How can you –”

“And what if he does? What does it matter?” Iris asked. “Tomorrow, things will change regardless. What does it matter if he finds out about our bond now?”

Eris’s expression fell and his whisper was hoarse, “Because this is the one thing – you are the one thing that is all mine. I don’t want his mark on it.” 

Iris felt her heart crack, the same way it always did when she thought of the way he’d lived his life constantly on edge, constantly thinking and planning and scheming. She didn’t want this particular night together to be this way. He needed some peace and Iris needed him just as badly as he needed peace.

“It doesn’t matter what or if he does anything,” she said quietly but not weakly. “I am yours and you are mine and whatever tomorrow brings, we will face it. He doesn’t get to win.” 

Eris struggled not to tremble at her determined gaze. That he had someone to worry about was one thing but to have someone — her — worry about him like this? He could truly never bring her peace and yet – she looked at him like this. Like she lov— loved him. 

As he loved her.

“What do you need?” Iris found herself whispering, reaching out a hand to gently touch his face again and a thrill always did go through her at how many times she could make him shudder with her touches. Iris waited, watching as he worked his jaw, swallowing before his eyes met hers. Without saying anything, she could feel his every emotion and concern. The thread at her ribcage was a path to his every thought and she gently tugged at it as for once, her husband let his emotions flicker across his face. The panic, the worry, the desperation, and Iris would do anything to bring him ease. 

After an eternity, his response was a broken rasp, “You. I only need you.”

Iris softened and stepped closer, Eris's arm immediately wrapping around her waist to pull her into him. “You have me,” she said softly and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I am here, with you. I am yours.”

He licked his lips, his chest rising and falling rapidly, without saying a word, the look they shared conveyed exactly what he needed – wanted, and always craved. He needed her in every way. He needed to only see her tonight. To only feel her. 

Her eyes didn’t waver from his as she slowly slid a hand down his chest. She knew exactly what he needed to be able to get through this night and Iris wanted nothing more than for them to feed into their feelings. Her hand continued down, past the waistband of his trousers until her hand wrapped around his impressive length and Eris hissed as she squeezed him, slowly pumping. His arm tightened around her, tension lining every inch of him even as their mouths were a breath apart.

“Tell me what you need,” she whispered but Eris couldn’t do anything but watch the blush across her cheeks, trying not to have his eyes roll back as she tightened her grip. His breath stuttered as she leaned in closer to him, pumping him leisurely as she spoke, “Do you want me on my knees? Should I take you in my mouth?” Eris groaned and closed his eyes, leaning into her slightly when Iris quickened her pace and then slowed down. “Tell me what I can do to make you feel good.”

“I want you everywhere.” he rasped and opened his eyes, his gaze filled with a desperate kind of heat that Iris felt seep into her bones. “Anything you want. Everything you’re willing to give me. I want this night to be just about you and me. For nothing else to matter.”

“Then nothing else has to matter right now,” she said softly. “It’s always just you and me.”

Eris licked his lips, his request for permission written all over his face, and every desperate thought and emotion he had spilled into his next word, “Please.” 

All it took was a nod from his wife and any restraint Eris had snapped. His kiss was as desperate as he felt, chasing her lips and Iris whimpered into his mouth, her hands digging into his back, quickly backing her into the table of their dining room.

“I — I can’t be gentle right now.” He said urgently in between his kisses, his hands moving as quickly as hers, both trying to undress the other. “If you don’t want that — please tell me now I don’t want to —“

But she held up her hand and Eris froze immediately, breathing heavily with her barricaded between his arms. Tonight, there would be nothing gentle about their coupling. With how high stakes everything would be tomorrow, all Iris wanted – needed was him. “I don’t want gentle," Iris said quietly. "I want whatever you'll give me.”

The demand in her tone had a noise he never thought he could make slip from his throat and Eris surged forward to claim her lips once more, searing himself into her.

His hands couldn’t move fast enough; he shoved her dress down her body, undergarments with it and Eris only got a second to admire her body before getting distracted by Iris’s own hands practically ripping off his clothing and in an instant, he helped her send them flying. He turned her around, pushing her body down and Iris hissed at the sensation of the cold table to her heated naked body. She couldn’t help but lean forward even further, presenting herself to him, and couldn’t stop the mewl that slipped from her lips when he smacked her ass. 

She looked over her shoulder and found Eris’s eyes on her, spreading her legs and Iris couldn’t stop the arch of her hips, biting her lip with a soft moan when his fingers slipped into her already wet folds.

“This is going to be hard and fast. I promise to be nice to you later but now…now I need to fuck you, wife.” He said and the low tenor of his voice made her hips arch back further, her breaths in time with his fingers teasing her entrance. “You understand?”

“Then you better fuck me hard, mate.” she said and Eris’s breath shuddered as she whispered, “I’m all yours.”

“Brace yourself,” was all he said before Eris thrust into her without preamble, and Iris let out a ragged moan, clutching onto the table as he had her. Eris fisted a hand in her hair and fucked her at a vicious pace and she could do nothing but bend over further for him, whimpering helplessly.

Her body took him and his brutal pace, Iris groaning as Eris grunted into her ear and Iris felt her impending release slowly start to build. The sensation of his tight grip on her hair, his other hand firmly on her back to keep her down was fueling a lust like never before in her.

It made her realize that she desperately liked it when he unleashed himself on her. That in fact, she loved that he was fucking her like this, especially as he thrust into her so hard again, he hit a spot she hadn’t thought existed until him. 

Looking over her shoulder, her breath quickened at the sight of the fire blazing in his eyes as he claimed her.

“Husband.” She gasped and Eris’s eyes snapped up to her, the hand on her back sliding to her ass and squeezing.

“Wife.”

“Harder.” She demanded and Eris’s eyes glazed over, the words driving him into a frenzy. He growled so deeply, goosebumps erupted all over her and the hand fisted in her hair pulled her head back so he could claim her lips, bruising her with a kiss.

“Gladly, mate.” he purred.

She shuddered and tried to meet his pace but Eris had unleashed himself completely and her husband was gone. Pushing her down fully on the table, the grip on her hips was deliciously painful as he thrust wildly.

There was no hope for her to catch up and Iris happily let him claim her, her release creeping closer – knowing how much they needed this with all that tomorrow would bring. The sound of his heavy breathing, the sound of their bodies meeting, and finally when he smacked her ass hard enough she knew there would be a mark, Iris shattered with a delicate cry.

Eris grunted and didn’t give her a moment to shudder through her climax as he pulled out, his length hard and wet with her release. He turned her over so fast and before she could realize what was happening, her husband had her flat on her back on the table.

Yanking her to the edge, he spread her legs for him and slapped her cunt, rubbing the slickness of her release in her folds. “I didn’t ask you to come.” He purred, his tone just a little mean and Iris arched her back off the table with a throaty groan as he slapped her sex again. “You like it when I slap your cunt, wife? Your cunt that belongs to me?”

But Iris was having a hard time getting her mouth to form words and could only breathe heavily, nodding. 

“I want to hear your answer, little gazelle.” he growled and slapped her cunt again, the sting a little harder and Iris cried out.

“Yes.” Iris wouldn’t bring herself to be embarrassed at the whimper that left her lips when he did it once more with a savage grin.

“That’s my good girl.”

Iris’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as his hips snapped into hers and held, the sensation so overwhelmingly good she could already feel another release building. 

The blaze in his eyes become more prominent, predatory as he pulled back only to pound into her again, his thrusts frantic and the pace merciless, watching her take his cock; a choked sob slipping from Iris’s lips when he pushed her legs further apart and held down, the angle deepening his reach. Her hand slid to her clit and his smirk was wild as he watched her play with herself, her pace trying to match his.

“You take me so fucken good, wife. I need to fuck you in front of a mirror so you can see the way my cock fills you up. So you can see how your swollen cunt drips with need for me.” His voice was guttural and Iris bit her lips, the words only igniting more fire in her – more want. “You like it like this? You like it when I lose control? When I fuck you like an animal?”

“Yes.” She breathed and Eris clenched his jaw, his thrusts now desperate. 

“My hand — your throat.” his words were barely understood as another choked whimper slipped from Iris and she begged, 

“Please.”

Her plea had Eris’s hand slide to her throat and Iris’s mouth fell open at the sensation of his grip tightening slightly.

“You like that?” He ground out, snapping his hips into her hard enough, it caused her to shift back onto the table slightly.

But Iris could only gasp as he pulled her back to the edge of the table with a growl, his grip on her throat heightening all her other senses, her free hand clenching the hand on her throat desperately.

“I’m —“

“I’ll have you dripping all over this table momentarily, wife.” He snarled. “Patience.”

And Iris let him lose himself inside her as she lost herself in him. The feeling of being at his mercy like this would’ve had her breaking out in hives once upon a time but now she trusted him so thoroughly that giving him this type of control — control he needed – was so freeing. She was free falling and the sound of his rough grunts as he fucked her senseless sent her right over the edge once more with a tight moan.

“I said pati — fuck.” He growled and his thrusts became even more erratic as she clenched her walls around him, her body bowing off the table with a silent scream, her release coursing through her.

“Eris.” She whined and the sound of his name whispered from her lips undid him.

Eris cursed, pumping hard as he spilled himself inside her and Iris watched him through hooded eyes, relishing the way his eyes closed, the hand not on her throat gripping her thigh tight enough she knew it would bruise. He leaned over her, resting his head in the crook of her neck,  his breathing unsteady as his thrusts slowed and Iris could only moan softly when he pressed himself in her and held again, his cock still pulsing inside her. Her thumb caressed the hand still wrapped around her throat and Iris licked her lips, pleasure still coursing through her. 

When he finally opened his eyes and pulled back slightly, the sight of her underneath him, splayed beautifully, almost had him come again; he couldn’t bring himself to pull out of her, and judging by the way her walls still tightened around his shaft, Eris was sure she didn’t mind. He loved being inside her, loved it when she warmed his cock.

The fingers around her throat stroked her neck gently before he let go and peppered it with soft kisses that earned him a breathless sigh from his wife’s lips and he couldn’t help his small smile when he pulled back to meet her gaze.

And Eris felt his whole being crumble when she smiled softly at him and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and kissing her with such tenderness that Iris felt her heart break a little. This was the way it was between them – a little rough balanced in with a little soft; she was the only one who made him realize how much he needed that softness. 

She pulled him closer with a hand on the back of his neck, the other on his chest, and wrapped her legs around his waist, the movement pushing him deeper inside her, and Iris had to bite her lip to swallow the wanton sound she knew would come out of her mouth. But she wanted to wrap her very being around him and keep him close to her heart, where he would be safe and whole and hers. She wanted him forever like this, in her arms as he kissed her and touched her and looked at her like she was the only one who mattered.

Their kiss deepened and when he shifted slightly, she wasn’t sure who made the breathless noise between them as she tightened around his cock again.

He shifted slightly, brushing a hair out of her face. “You’re trying to torture me, aren’t you?” he gasped and Iris giggled. 

“I’m only giving you what you wanted.” 

His gaze was smoldering and Iris felt her whole body heat as they shared a breath but Eris forced himself to pause, his eyes roaming her face. “Are you okay?” He asked quietly and Iris felt his nervousness start to creep up. “Did I —“

“You didn’t hurt me.” She said immediately and leaned up to leave a quick kiss on his neck, running a hand down his chest. “I liked it. I liked it a lot. In fact –” Iris slid her hands up his toned arms then down his back slowly until they settled on his backside and she squeezed, digging her nails into his flesh. Her cheeks flushed as he groaned, rocking into her. “I think you and I are far from finished.”

Eris’s eyes flashed with desire as her words ignited a fire within him; she always knew what he needed without saying a word. His wife. His friend. His mate.

She was his and he was hers and Eris – who had never even dreamed of this, would hold on to this glowing thread between them like the lifeline it was.

“You’re right,” he said and his voice was a sensuous caress as he leaned closer. “I am far from done with you, little gazelle.” 

Little else was said as the two moved, and there was nothing soft about this claiming, nothing gentle about the need and desperation in their touches. Everything would change tomorrow and Eris couldn’t stop himself from letting himself be all wrapped up in her. For having this night of forgetting. 

And Eris promised himself he would do whatever it takes for their tomorrow to have a tomorrow. Whatever it takes to bring them peace. Regardless of how many pieces he had to break himself to do it. 

[mmonogatari]

7 minutes in heaven

── ryan ross x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol use, vulgar words (very few tbh) and slightly suggestive themes. the characters are 18+

word count: 3.4k

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Ryan knew full well you were an introvert and not too interested in partying, yet he insisted on dragging you to Brendon’s house, which was currently way too crowded in your opinion.

You thought about how you’d rather be at home bingeing crappy movies or just relaxing by yourself, sinking in the myriad of pillows that adorned your bed, when your eyes started wandering around the room. Maybe you were looking for an excuse to leave, or just maybe you were looking for the reason you were at this God forsaken party to begin with.

It’s not like you were mad Ryan dragged you here, what made you kind of annoyed was the fact that he was seemingly gone, while you’d hoped he would stay by your side. Instead you found yourself alone, looking for some peace and quiet in the kitchen, far away from the crowd. Yes, you were on your own, but this was somewhat more bearable than awkwardly standing against a wall amidst waves of dancing bodies, trying to push down the knot in your throat that formed as soon as you stepped in. You hadn’t even noticed Ryan disappearing, you just suddenly found yourself feeling colder, your limbs going frigid, looking around for your friend: it almost felt like your body felt the lack of his warm presence and signalled it to you through the shivers dancing up and down your spine.

Once you realised you were unable to locate him, you tried to navigate the crammed hallways towards a glimmer of quietness, shushing the gloominess muddling your thoughts.

You lowered your head, staring at the red cup in your hand, half full with a mixture of vodka and some kind of energy drink. Why were you thinking such stupid things all of a sudden? You’d known Ryan for years now, you had many classes together in high school and now that finals were done, ending your senior year, you were a bit worried you guys would just… drift apart. Maybe that’s why you hoped he would stay with you at this party, maybe that’s why you accepted to come to begin with. Or maybe it was just the alcohol talking. Yeah, that was definitely the reason.

You let out a soft – and perhaps slightly self deprecating – chuckle: it wasn’t the first time those thoughts came to your mind, but every time you deemed them too silly to pay them any mind. You couldn’t bring yourself to accept the fact that you would miss Ryan if you parted ways. You couldn't even begin to process the butterflies you felt in your stomach whenever his pretty face popped up in your head. The oh so perfect, poetic and dazzling Ryan Ross was definitely too out of your league. What use was it to try to make sense of it all, when you were so sure of the fact that these feelings were not reciprocated?

“What’s got you laughing?” a shadow loomed over you. You didn’t even hear the footsteps coming towards you, partly because they were hidden by the loud music that was making the walls vibrate, and also because you were so deep in thought that you drowned out every other stimulus.

You looked up, “Oh wow, I thought you had abandoned me and escaped or something,” you flashed Ryan a small smile. His cheeks were slightly red and flushed, probably because of the alcohol, seeing as he also held a red plastic cup just like yours, except his was empty.

“If you’re looking for something to drink, it should be in that cabinet,” you pointed to his left.

“Well, no, I guess I’ve had enough. Also, I wouldn’t abandon you: Brendon was just talking to some girls about our songs, you know… and he wouldn’t let me leave.”

“What a show off,” you giggled, jokingly. “What are you here for then?”

“Obviously I came looking for you.”

You felt blood rushing to your face.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm. We were thinking of playing some games or something,” Ryan immediately noticed your face going blank, “Listen, I know you’re not the biggest fan of parties and stuff, but I’d like if you tagged along, to be honest I’d like it better with you there…” he scratched the nape of his neck, was he… embarrassed?

That was so unlike the Ryan you knew, always somewhat cocky and annoying, hiding his kind and sweet side behind the slightly arrogant facade. It was kind of endearing to see him flustered, and you silently thanked the alcohol for making him this cute.

“Yeah, well, I guess I can tag along… but no truth or dare, you know I have no creativity whatsoever and I wouldn’t be able to come up with questions and that would be the actual worst,” you chuckled, hoping he wouldn’t notice how nervous and anxious you were.

“Okay okay, I won’t allow them to let you make a fool of yourself like that,” he mocked you.

This wasn’t your first party, but it definitely would be the first time you played party games, as you always avoided them like the plague.

Other than the nervousness, a slight pang of jealousy caught you by surprise. What were you even jealous of? Ryan? It’s not like he liked you back. And it’s not like you liked him to begin with. The butterflies that flapped violently against the walls of your stomach were just a natural reaction, who wouldn’t feel even the littlest bit of excitement when the most gorgeous man on Earth smiled at you so coyly?

Then why did you catch yourself staring at his nape while he was leading you out of the kitchen, the curve of his shoulders clumsily hidden by his shirt, and your eyes wandered down his back, while feeling a pit of sadness piercing through your stomach?

You caught yourself praying that he wouldn’t have to kiss any other girl, and maybe, just maybe, the bottle would land on you… but it’s not like you’d ever have the guts to confess your conflicted feelings, especially not when the thought of your friendship dying down from the distance college would put between you was all that occupied your mind for days now.

He turned to face you, “Are you coming or what?” he smiled.

You tried to regain some composure and nodded.

The whole house was packed with teens dancing to the loud music playing through the speakers. Ryan waited till you caught up with him and then let you walk ahead of him.

“I don’t want to bear the guilt of losing you in the crowd,” he snickered.

You walked past him and felt his hand on the small of your back. It was warm and comforting, you relished in the feeling, trying to quiet down your heartbeat. You couldn’t even tell if it was the nervousness of the imminent game or the warmth radiating from his hand making your heart skip one too many beats.

He led you all the way to Brendon’s bedroom, where a few other people were waiting.

“Here they are! Come sit here guys,” Brendon exclaimed cheerfully. “Allow me to explain what we’re gonna play.”

Brendon’s theatrical attitude made you chuckle, seemingly calming your furious heartbeat with the distraction he provided.

“So you all know 7 minutes in heaven right?” He glanced at you and you nodded in response. While you weren’t as close with Brendon as you were with Ryan, you guys did hang out more than a couple times and he knew you were kind of a shut-in hermit. Being a homebody didn’t mean you lived under a rock.

He continued, “Well that’s what we’re playing, but with a twist,” Brendon’s smile grew, you could catch a glimpse of benevolent malice hiding behind his pearly whites.

Some girls squealed excitedly, everyone wanted to know more.

“Okay, quiet down everybody,” Brendon shushed, gesturing with his hands.

“Hurry up Brendon,” Spencer laughed.

“So, to be honest I always thought 7 minutes in heaven was pretty boring. I mean you get to spend seven minutes stuck in a closet, isn’t it quite obvious you’re gonna fuck?” he started explaining. “So I’ve devised this variant. Basically we’re gonna split the guys from the girls and each group gets a room.”

People started giggling gleefully, thinking this was gonna get interesting.

“Each group gets to pick one person, like I don’t know, by spinning the bottle or something, and that’s the lucky one that gets to go in the closet. Blindfolded obviously. Cause the objective is guessing who the other person is, but no talking allowed. And no cum stains on my clothes cause we’re gonna use my closet, and I swear I’m gonna commit murder if any of y’all get them stained,” he shot daggers at the boys, who all laughed.

Ryan glanced at you as if to ask if you were okay, you gave a slight nod and a small smile. You didn’t want to ruin everyone’s night and be a bummer. Also it would be unlikely you’d get picked anyway, seeing as there were at least six or seven other girls.

“Oh also,” Brendon chimed again. “We’re going for multiple rounds!” Everyone cheered.

“Come on now, let’s get to our rooms,” Brendon ushered the girls out, pointing to the door opposite to his bedroom.

You sat down with the others, taking a second to look at them. You kind of knew some of them, from school, but not really enough to call them friends. Barely acquaintances even.

“Okay I guess spin the bottle would be the easiest way, right?”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

You gulped nervously, you genuinely didn’t know if you wanted to be picked to get this over with or not.

One of the girls placed an empty soda bottle down in the middle of the circle you all made on the floor, and started spinning it.

When it landed on a pretty blonde, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. The pang of jealousy stabbed through your chest again though, and you found yourself hoping that Ryan wasn’t the one picked.

As you all got up and covered the girl’s eyes with the tie Brendon gave you as a makeshift blindfold, you started making your way out of the bedroom, while the chosen girl was being guided by her friend.

“Keep quiet or you’ll ruin the surprise!” you overheard one of the girls say, while giggling.

You opened the door to find the boys all ready with their chosen candidate.

You held back your sigh of relief when you noticed it was Spencer the one who was blindfolded.

Everyone stayed quiet as Brendon opened the closet and let Spencer and the girl inside. He then grabbed a timer, “Time starts… now!”

He hurried everyone to leave the bedroom.

Once you’re all out he laughed, “I don’t wanna hear them making out to be honest.” He flopped on the bed in the spare bedroom where you previously were with the girls. “Hasn’t Spencer been eyeing that girl up and down like, all night long?”

“Yeah,” Ryan replies, his tone somewhat sheepish.

You felt warmth rush to your cheeks and ears, your breath hitched after noticing how close his voice sounded. Your head felt dizzy and you couldn’t bring yourself to turn and look at him and face his gaze, that you felt burning through your skin.

You sank lower into the mattress, seeking comfort in the lavender coloured sheets.

Perhaps Ryan caught your nervousness, or maybe he was also feeling awkward — even though you struggled to picture that — but he didn’t say a word for a couple of minutes.

When you finally lifted your head to look at him, he gave you a small smile, his eyes hiding his flustered demeanour pretty well.

“How do you think they’re doing in there?” he breathed out.

Why was your heart even thumping now? You felt like your ribs were about to crack.

“Oh, uh… I guess they’re having fun,” you spoke softly.

As the minutes went by you started making small talk and feeling a bit more comfortable. After all it was the alcohol’s fault you were feeling so lightheaded and your heart felt like it was running a marathon. Yes, it was surely that. Just hold on a bit more and you can leave, you kept telling yourself.

The ringing of the timer shook you out of your dizzy bliss, your heart giving you the fatal blow when it seemed about to jump out of your chest as Ryan’s shoulder brushed against yours when he rose from the bed.

“Time’s up, let’s go free the lovebirds,” Brendon laughed in a slightly sarcastic tone.

When he opened the closet door, the two of them were all over each other, hair ruffled and breathing laboured.

“Come on, get out. You can continue somewhere else,” Brendon winked, making everyone laugh. “Time for the second round.”

This time you were feeling a little more relaxed, the alcohol was starting to wear off and you were getting more comfortable. The game didn’t seem as scary anymore.

Until the bottle landed on you.

You knew this would happen eventually, yet you couldn’t help your head jerking up, trying to hide the panicked look you were sure was plastered on your face.

Thank God, or maybe unfortunately, the girls didn’t seem to notice and they hurried you on your feet, eager to blindfold you and start the round.

Shivers travelled up and down your spine as one of the girls held your hand to guide you to the room.

It was so eerily quiet, you couldn’t tell at all who was the guy who got picked.

You felt the girl’s hand on your shoulders as she pushed you into the cramped closet. You tucked your feet under your bottom, trying to find a comfortable enough position.

The air grew warmer as the other person joined in.

“Okay guys, time’s starting.” You hear a muffled voice, but you couldn’t distinguish who it was because of the layers of fabric and wood blocking out the sounds, “let’s go grab some more booze while we wait”.

Your view was completely black, your mouth agape, looking for some more air to fill up your lungs. You were almost shaking, trying to dry off your sweaty palms on your jeans.

You felt rustling coming from in front of you, he was probably trying to adjust himself in the tiniest amount of space so as to not disturb you. He couldn’t help but brush his legs against yours though, which let a small gasp escape from your lips.

“Uhm…” you started, before remembering the no-talking rule. You sighed in frustration. How could you even begin to guess who was the boy stuck in there with you if you couldn’t even talk to him?

Suddenly you felt puffs of warm hair hitting your face, signalling that he was getting closer. You instinctively raised your hands in front of you, as if you were trying to protect yourself or put some distance between the two of you, even though it would have been in vain, seeing as your back was against the wall.

What you didn’t expect was your hands hitting the soft cotton covering his chest. You froze, unable to react and remove them, mentally cursing the moment you decided to participate in this stupid game.

The fact that the boy took this as a sign that he could reciprocate your touch made everything even worse, your head started spinning faster than a carousel as his hands laid gently on your knees.

You could feel his warmth through the denim fabric, your heart started skipping beat after beat. This was driving you insane, it felt as if the time was as frozen as you were in that instant.

He hummed quietly as his hands made their way up your thighs, hesitating.

He stopped midway, seemingly unsure whether he had the green light or not.

For some reason you felt disappointment rush through your veins when he stopped, replacing the nervousness. As he was about to lift his hands, his fingertips barely grazing your legs, you moved your own hands higher up his chest, your feather touch barely caressing his collarbones under the lightweight shirt.

Thankfully he got the message. His hands latched back to your thighs, but didn’t stay there for long, he immediately moved them up to grab your hips.

You felt goosebumps when his thin fingers slid under the hem of your shirt and collided with the skin of your lower back.

It felt somehow familiar.

His fingers hooked in your Venus’ dimples and your ears felt devilishly hot when they caught the sigh he let escape.

The sound reverberated in your head, kicking out all other thoughts and that small spark of reason you were trying to keep alight.

You grabbed the collar of his shirt, trying to focus on identifying the man who was making you feel all hot and bothered.

As your fingers travelled to the nape of his neck and tangled in his soft hair, his hands were occupied with exploring your back and waist, stopping to lay palms flat against your side, thumbs lightly pressing your stomach.

His face was inching closer and you could smell his cologne, faint but distinguishable.

The scent of hairspray, the softness of his shirt, it all made sense now.

“Ryan?” a whisper struggled to leave your lips.

“Y-yeah…” his breathing fanned against your earlobe. “You have no idea how happy I am that it’s you,” he sighed as his lips brushed against your skin.

A rush of hot blood made your veins pulse, you gulped down the awkwardness.

“I’m happy too…” your hands moved to his back, pulling him closer in a much needed hug.

When you felt his nose bump into yours, all sense and reason escaped you, as an eagerness you didn’t know you could have made its way through your dizzy head.

“Is it okay if…” his lips caressed your cheek as he whispered.

“Yes, please, Ryan, kiss–”, his lips didn’t let you finish the sentence as they immediately captured yours in a loving and chaste kiss.

“I’ve waited for this for so long,” he whined desperately in between sloppy kisses, stopping only to take your blindfolds off.

You hummed against his mouth, hoping he’d understand that you too had been dying to kiss him for God knows how long.

His hands started exploring your back, clashing against the clip of your bra and the hem of your jeans, before settling on the sides of your face. His thumbs traced small circles on your cheeks.

“I really really like you, (Y/N),” he panted.

“I like you too,” you replied before capturing his lips once again.

The make out session left you breathless as you laid your head on his shoulder, while he engulfed you in his tight embrace. It felt like he’d never let you go and you were totally fine with that.

“I think I would have actually cried if you ended up with some other jerk,” he chuckled.

“Were you jealous?” you teased, knowing full well you were thinking the same exact thing.

“Shut up. Wouldn’t you also be jealous if the girl you liked for years ended up making out with someone else?”

“Touché, Ross,” you chirped gleefully. He liked you. The prettiest and kindest and smartest person you’d ever laid eyes upon reciprocated your feelings. It felt unreal.

“Don’t you think time should be up by now?” he tilted his head.

“Oh fuck, you’re right. Did they forget us or what?”

“Not that I’m complaining if we accidentally end up staying here all night,” he teased sarcastically, “who knows what might happen.”

“Shut up!” you laughed.

The closet fell silent. You really should be looking for a way to get out.

Thankfully it seemed that Brendon read your minds, cause you suddenly felt frantic footsteps approaching hurriedly and a string of mumbled ‘fuck fuck fuck’s.

“We can continue this later, right?” Ryan whispered in your ear, as he moved just a couple inches back. You could literally feel the cocky smirk adorning his beautiful face.

You turned to look at him right as the closet door opened, “Fuck guys I’m so sorry, we went to grab some more vodka bottles and didn’t hear the timer go off I’m so sorry fuck,” Brendon’s hand was outstretched, offering you help to get out.

Thank God he didn’t seem to notice your tousled hair and laboured breath.

Your eyes went immediately looking for Ryan’s, his gaze making you melt.

“Don’t worry, we had fun,” he winked at you.

You rolled your eyes. He was back to his annoying usual self, which you couldn’t help but love all the same as the desperate whiny mess he was just a couple minutes ago.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

i highly hope there were no mistakes as english isn't my native language and this was my very first time writing a fanfic :)

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

A Devil's Secret Wingman: Vergil x G/N Reader

APPARENTLY, I NEVER POSTED THIS HERE; I WROTE THIS BACK IN MARCH OF 2023 LMFAO WHAT THE FUCK--

SUMMARY: As time has gone on, random appearances from a certain blue apparition happened more and more. A part of you wonders why but you had never dared to ask Vergil; however, the sly blue ghostly devil had a different plan in store.

BEGINNING NOTES: I don’t know why I really like the idea of Vergil in yoga pants right now; I just do. Also when Doppel shakes their upper half; I am imagining something similar to a bird fluffing its feathers. Yes, I know that Vergil + Dante’s DT/Sin DTs don’t have feathers but I feel like they’d still do it; plus it would make Vergil’s (Sin Trigger) shoulder pauldrons move according to how they work on the concept art page. 💝��💝 Vergil x G/N Reader Unestablished relationship Some good ol’ fluff

==

INSPIRED BY:

A Doppelganger's Projection--By: DevilSwordVergil

Devil's Advocate--By: LadyMuzzMuzz

These are both super cute and I love them ngl

==

     Visitations from a certain bright blue apparition had become a regular occurrence when you visited the Devil May Cry. It didn't typically matter what was going on; night or day, before or after a job--as long as you were alone, the glowing blue devil would make time to see you. At first, you thought that Vergil had been doing this to keep an eye on you while he was up in his room; however, as time went by, you realized that Vergil didn’t even have to be awake for Doppel to appear--sometimes you'd even get a visit when Vergil was out and about. It had become a part of your routine, one which you reveled in greatly.

     Today was no exception. 

     Vergil and you were on “shop duty”, being tasked with the monotonous secretary work of (the) Devil May Cry. Everyone else had various contracts to complete or were on vacation; leaving you and the blue twin alone for an undisclosed amount of time.

     You sighed heavily, “I’m so fucking bored…” you leaned forward in the desk chair and set your head on the desk with a small thunk. 

     It had been nearly three hours and there wasn’t a single phone call or walk-in; it was as dead as dead can be. A part of you had hoped that Vergil might join you downstairs for a while, maybe even a long while; but, you hadn’t seen nor heard from the Dark Slayer all day. Which was fine, it’s not like the two of you don’t see each other all the time, but you couldn’t help but yearn to be near him--even if it just meant that you were occupying the same room. 

     A small joyful chirping caught your attention. You tilted your head up slightly and stared from the tops of your eyes. Standing at the bottom of the stairs was the blue ghostly doppelgänger that you expected to visit at some point.

     You picked your head up. Placing your elbow on the desk and resting your chin in your palm, you flashed them a bright beaming smile, “Hey Doppel, come to join me?”

     Although you knew that the devil couldn’t speak, you would talk to them as if they were able to respond; which to be fair they technically could. Your smile widened as they wiggled a bit, a sign that you'd learned meant they were happy or in agreement. The devil approached you and stood in front of the desk with a tilted head. 

     “Wanna sit with me?” you smiled as you sat up and watched Doppel wriggle faster, spreading their wings slightly in excitement, “Alright,” you stood from the chair.

     With a loud scrapping sound, you moved the coffee table out from in front of the pleather couch--making sure to give the devil enough room. With a playful huff and bounce, you sat on the couch.

     The sound of their claws daintily clicking on the hardwood floor made you giggle in amusement. They stood in front of the couch before tilting their head once more.

     “What?” you watched their hands as they gestured along the couch, asking you to lay down, “Oh? Okay, sure..?” 

     It was a bit odd since they had never asked for that before but you did as you were asked. With a curious tilt to your brow, you watched as the devil sat above you, straddling your legs. If this had been the real Vergil, you surely would’ve been crushed to death by now; thankfully, Doppel (typically) weighed almost nothing. Another laugh left your lips as you watched the dangerous devil knead into your chest with both his hands, emitting a thunderous purr; reminding you of a cat. Meanwhile, you gently ran your hands along the devil's body.

     After a minute or two, they carefully laid on top of you; encompassing you entirely. You smiled as you nestled your face into (where there typically would be) grey scales above their blue V. Carefully, they rubbed the underside of their chin against the top of your head. Between the heat and the vibrations of their purrs, it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep; forgetting all about your shop work. 

     Nearly an hour later, you were still sleeping happily with the blue devil doing the same. However, a different blue devil had come downstairs to check on you; worried that you hadn’t answered the shop's phone several times. Now, he could only stare at the sight before him. 

     The sight of you, his partner and secret romantic interest, being smothered by his own duplicate. Doppel noticed Vergil’s sudden appearance and curiously turned their head towards him. 

     With a large and envious scowl, Vergil snapped his fingers in an attempt to de-summon the blue apparition but was only met with a small wiggling motion in defiance. This movement was enough to stir you awake.

     Only having your eyes half open, you mumbled to your ghostly cuddle-bug, “Somethin’ wrong Doppel?”

     They looked down at you and back to Vergil. You turned your head to the side and became pale at the sight of Doppel’s owner. Vergil had moved further into the room and stood next to the desk with folded arms. A small blush spread across your face upon seeing his oddly casual apparel; a pair of semi-form-fitting black yoga pants and his typical turtlenecked dark blue vest. Upon seeing that you noticed Vergil, Doppel took their leave with a small chirp of happiness. 

     Vergil swallowed audibly and looked away from your eyes, a small amount of pink pricked at his features--embarrassed about this situation, “Forgive me, I was unaware of their summoning,” his voice was meek and caught you off guard.

     You smiled as you sat up, “Don’t worry about it… If I’m honest,” you placed a hand on the back of your neck awkwardly, “I actually enjoy these little visits.”

     “This- This has happened before?” Vergil’s gaze turned back to you filled with concern and confusion.

     “Yeah..?” you cocked your head slightly, “Haven’t you been sending Doppel to stay with me?”

     The twin looked at you with parted lips and wide-eyed expression; telling you that your assumption was far from correct. 

     Before you were able to question him more, Vergil went back up the stairs and holed himself back up in his room. 

     “Shit,” a loud sigh left your lips as you flung your head backwards, hitting the crown of your head on the back cushions; fearing that this would somehow bite you in the ass later.

     You waited a while to see if Vergil would come back downstairs and were disappointed when he didn’t. Another heavy sigh left your lips as you stood up from the couch and tended to your assigned work.

     After that was completed, you quickly became bored again and looked around for something to bide your time. That’s when you realized how dirty the DMC had become making you scrunch your face in disgust. So, you decided to take upon the hefty maid work and got to it. 

     Three hours of exhausting scrubbing and cleaning later, you flopped face down on the sofa, satisfied with your work. Slowly, you felt the warm gentle hold of sleep taking hold of you or was it something else? Before you could question it too much, you fell back asleep.

     After a half hour or so, you tried to turn over and felt something stop you. Irritatedly, you opened your eyes and noticed luminescent wings and arms wrapped around you. It seemed that Doppel had not only returned to you but was sleeping on top of you. 

     “Doppel?” you whispered and got a small tail wag in response, “Can you let me up?”

     They looked at you for a moment, presumably in thought, then slid off you. You sat up and let out a low groan as you stretched your arms upwards, cracking your back. The large devil sat facing you with crisscrossed legs, reminding you of how juvenile the ghost acted in comparison to its master.

     With a small laugh, you turned to put one leg up on the couch, “So… What’s with you? I hear that you’ve been visiting me without permission?” you cocked your head curiously.

     The blue devil chirped in affirmation.

     "Why?" 

     Doppel’s tail gently moved to point at your chest before laying it on your lap. Carefully, you pet the sharp scales; giving extra care to go pet down the tail so you didn’t slice your hand. 

     “My chest, huh?” you shook your head with a faint smile, “I don’t understand.”

     The light blue figure cocked its head slightly before shaking its upper body with a loud chirp. Then, they took their hands and fumbled with them for a moment, before they made a crude heart shape with their fingers. 

     With pursed lips and a furrowed brow, you huffed quietly in confusion, “A heart?” the blue devil shook with another loud chirp--indicating that you were correct, “What..? You just love spending time with me or something?” admittedly, you found that idea to be adorable.

     Doppel looked over and stared at the staircase; which you copied. 

     “Wait,” you froze and looked at Doppel with wide eyes, “You mean that Vergil-?”

     A third loud chirp came from them as they wriggled in place. 

     With parted lips, you tried to come up with a response. However, before you were able, Doppel sat on their knees, still on the couch, and poked your chest with their finger this time. 

     “Are you asking if I..?” your voice was hushed as Doppel wiggled a bit, “Oh, well- I,” you stumbled over your thoughts and words. Admittedly, you’d never said it out loud before or told anyone about how you felt for the older brother; despite the incessant pestering of Nico and Dante, “Yeah, I-” a small smile tugged at your lips as you sighed contently, “I do love Vergil.”

     The blue apparition carefully cupped your face within its hands and made an odd purring chirp noise; one you’d never heard before. They continued to purr afterwards and just stared into your eyes. That’s when you realized what Doppel was asking you to do.

     “No way,” you shook your head slightly, still confined by the devil’s hands, “I can’t tell him. Do you know how much he’d hate me over something--” 

     Another loud chirping purr cut you off; this time, however, Doppel wriggled harder and spread their wings out in clear disagreement.

     “You sure about this?” you whispered as you felt them squish your face closer together, making you scrunch up, “Alright- Alright, I’ll go,” Doppel let go of your face as you laughed nervously.

     A deep nervous feeling grew in your gut as you stood up and slowly ascended the stairs, with Doppel following suit. Once in front of Vergil’s door, you stopped and looked over at the apparition with pursed lips. Doppel decided to force things along further and knocked loudly on the door for you, making you cuss loudly at the ghostly devil. 

     The door opened and Vergil stood there with a raised brow; however, before he spoke, he noticed his Doppelgänger standing beside you. 

     “What- How?!” Vergil’s voice was angry as he glared at the blue ghost.

     Doppel straightened their posture with a curious tilt of their head. 

     The eldest twin’s lip twitched in irritation at their counterpart.

     Meekly, you broke Vergil’s death glare at the apparition, “Hey, could we,” you shrugged with one shoulder, “talk for a minute?”

     Vergil eyed you up and down, “Fine, give me a moment,” with that, he turned back into his room and shut the door. 

     You turned to Doppel and became increasingly confused. They were ruffling their top half with their wings wide spread and their tail flicking around.

     “What’s up with you?” you were unsure if they were excited or angry.

     The ghost looked at you and patted the top of your head, still wriggling around.

     With a small shake of your head, you smirked a wide smile at them, “You’re quite excited, huh?”

     Before they could give a clear response, Vergil’s bedroom door opened again. 

     The twin sighed and moved to the side, “You may enter.”

     “Are you sure you want me in your room? You never--”

     “Yes.”

     With a coy nod, you smiled, “Okay, thank you.”

     Vergil gave you a flat smile and shut the door as he watched Doppel wave to him and then fade. 

     A heavy sigh came from the twin as he stood facing the door for a moment, attempting to hide his growing nervousness. Vergil turned to face you and took a few steps closer. The two of you awkwardly stood in the middle of the open space. Admittedly, the eldest son’s room was rather plain; only having essential items, a few bookshelves, and a small desk. 

     “It’s nice in here,” you smiled and avoided his piercing gaze, “it’s very well-kempt; a reflection of its inhabitant.”

     Although Vergil was flattered by your compliment, he was uncomfortable by someone else’s presence in his space; making his tone rather snappy, “What do you want?”

     You pursed your lips and shrank down into yourself, taking his tone as a bad sign, “Doppel told me something, and I--” you shot a glance at him and noticed his brow was furrowed, “I was made to come up here to talk with you.”

     “Speak then.”

     “Well,” you bit your tongue, “you know what, never mind; just forget this happened,” with your tail between your legs, you attempted to retreat and leave, when you felt him grab your forearm.

     Without turning to you, Vergil spoke in a hushed tone, “No, I want to hear what you have to say.”

     A sigh left your nose as you turned your head to the side, looking at the side profile of the stone-faced man, “Promise you won’t be mad?”

     Vergil copied your action, turning his head to face you, “Fine.”

     Your heart rate spiked as you locked eyes with his icy eyes and a small blush dusted your face. Vergil released his hold on your arm and turned fully to see you with folded arms. 

     You looked away from him again and tensed up as you whispered, “Doppel wanted me to tell you about how,” with a scrunched face, you braced for the worst, “I have feelings for you.”

     His voice was sharp and he squinted his eyes, “What kind of feelings ?”

     With a barely audible voice and a small nervous laugh, you answered, “Romantic ones…”

     The room fell silent. A thick uncomfortable tension hung in the air as Vergil just stared at you. If he had stabbed you with the Yamato or scoffed in response; that would have been preferable then him just standing completely still and silent. A part of you wanted to bolt out the door and just run from this, but you were frozen in fear.

     “Is that your version of a confession?”

     Unable to look at him, you nodded.

     Vergil’s stare softened and he let out a gentle sigh, “Let me guess,” slowly, he approached you and stopped only a few inches from you, “my doppelgänger told you about my own feelings then?”

     With another small nod, you focused on his boots that had come into view.

     “Then may I ask why you were hesitant to tell me..?”

     You whispered, “I figure Doppel was just messing with me.”

     Vergil gave a flat smile. Gently he set his thumb and forefinger on your chin, tilting you up for him to see. Neither of you spoke as he slowly ran his thumb over your parted lips, making your face turn a few shades darker. Eventually, you met his gaze and noticed his expression had softened greatly; the first time you’d seen him this mellow. 

     Vergil whispered as he stared down at your lips, “May I..?” 

     You gave a small grin, “Of course.”

     With a very slow and careful lean, Vergil connected his mouth to yours. You sheepishly placed your hands on his sides, making him push a bit harder into the kiss. His lips were broiling hot as he slowly moved his lips against yours. After a few moments, Vergil broke the kiss off and leaned back enough to look you over; attempting to gauge your response. A small smile tugged at your lips and you noticed that Vergil had the same expression. 

     He moved his hand to rest on the side of your jaw, gently thumbing over your cheekbone, “I assume that was proof enough?”

     Curious as to how he would respond, you inched toward him and cocked your head slightly, “Mnm, I dunno; think I might need another just to be sure.”

     He shyly looked down and leaned back into you, intertwining once more. This time, however, Vergil made sure to pour everything he had into the kiss. Quickly, he moved both hands to your waist and pulled you tight to his body, making you squeak in surprise. Using this to his advantage, he pushed his tongue into your mouth. 

     After a few minutes of fervourous kissing, the two of you broke apart, breathing heavily. Vergil gently nuzzled against the side of your neck and placed sweet kisses along it; very quietly purring. 

     While the two of you were enjoying each other's embrace, a loud yell from downstairs caught your attention, it seems that Dante had returned. However, when you tried to separate from Vergil, he pulled you closer.

     “Stay, my brother can wait,” his voice was laden with a thick husky seduction as he continued to kiss down your neck, “I’m not done showing you how much I love you.”

==

ENDING NOTES: Is it weird for me to hyperlink stories that inspired my chapters or not? This is a genuine question--I don't want to seem weird, but I want to give credit where credit is due.

==

If you like this please consider checking this on my AO3. There are extra chapters and my H/Cs over there, so please consider checking them out! Comments, Likes/Kudos, and shares are always appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!! :)))

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[voltstone]

Enid: Hey We— Enid: Wednesday, what are you doing? Wednesday: I’m critiquing your stories. Enid: My… Wednesday: Word of advice, you can use the character’s names more often. There’s no need to constantly replace them with ‘the singer’ or 'the idol’. Enid: Wednesday. Where did you find these…? Wednesday: … Wednesday: You are registered to an archive as…pasteldogenjoyer. I was intrigued to see you have been working on your writing. It has gotten better. Enid: Really?!

[virenkinnie]

what’s up guys i’m back at it with another epic awesome au!! on todays menu we have an au i literally forgot about for 2 years until today 👅👅

it’s a “what-if” type of thing where callum leaves without a word to study magic instead of rayla leaving to find viren, and rayla and ezran kinda tweak out and spend those two years looking for him. very fun! i will make an actual storyline soon but for now i’m just fucking around with some silly doodles

[angustully]

hiiii wrote my first fic in 2 years <3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/58692895

[gauloiseblue]

Keep Your Eyes On Me

[Giorno Giovanna × Reader]

Never in your wildest dreams did you think you could paint someone as magnificent as Giorno, but it happened just like that. It all started from a small talk about the weather and the lovely sight of his private garden. But as soon as you talked about the progress in your project, he immediately proposed something you wouldn't expect.

"If you really need a model for your painting, you could've just asked me."

You snapped your head towards him at lightning speed.

"For real?" You asked, and he nodded without hesitation. "I mean—isn't that dangerous? I might end up exposing your identity! Because it's gonna be exhibited in the gallery and—and since your face would be on my painting—" You stammered as you tried to explain, "Someone might recognize you, and—"

"Hey, calm down. You think too much." He said with an amused grin, "No one has ever seen my face, except for the few people I trust."

He tilts his head when you squint at him, “I doubt that.”

“You can change my hair color, or alter my face a little bit if you’re still unsure.” He suggested, “Like I said earlier, I don’t mind becoming your muse.”

An amused snort came out from you louder than you intended, “That’s a bold choice of word, Gio.”

“But you always whine about not having a muse.”

“Well,” You scratched your nose, “What I mean by that is having an ordinary person as my muse, not the legitimate Don of passione.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with that.” He raised his brow, and an exasperated sigh left your mouth.

“That’s not it…” You mumble while your head’s down, not looking at his direction, “It’s just that… I’m worried about your safety, Gio. I don’t need to be a part of the mafia to know that everyone wants you dead. Not everyone, but you get my point.” You corrected, “I don’t want to accidentally put you in danger, y’know?”

For a moment, the conversation went cold. He didn’t say anything, and you didn’t look at him. But then you hear footsteps, and a hand slips onto your cheek as he cups your face. “You really have the tendency to make me work for it.” He retorted gently, “I offered myself to be your model because I know you want me. But it’s not your job to worry about me, (Y/N). I want you to finish your project first, before you decide what to do with the painting.” He smiles, “Capisce?”

Although you didn’t get cold feet, it seemed like Giorno thought otherwise. Because he holds you still when you step away, and his grip is firm on your waist.

“Alright, alright.” You compromise, “I’ll do it, okay? I’m gonna take my stuff first, so can you please let me go for a sec?”

—

The painting equipment you bring is quite heavy, but you refuse to let his man carry them for you. You’ve surveyed the ideal place for the background, and you quickly set up the easel. While you set down your brushes and color paints, you watch the men arrange a long sofa by the window. With the instruction from the Don himself.

“So you’re gonna lay down?” You asked.

“You expect me to stand for hours?”

“No, but I thought I told you to sit on a chair.”

“It wouldn’t look as good.”

You roll your eyes, “I guess beggars cannot choose.”

He grinned as he dismissed his men, “I would take my clothes off if you wish to paint nude—”

You quickly clear your throat, loud enough until it sounds very constrained. Even though his men keep a straight face, you know they heard him. You glare at him, and he just chuckles in return.

“Shall we begin? You can lay down now.” You told him as you squeezed out the paint, “Make sure everything’s comfortable enough for you.”

“I’ll be more comfortable if you lay beside me.”

“Giorno.” You called him with a frown, which only made him smirk. He doesn’t speak much as he gets on the sofa, and leans comfortably against the armrest. You pick up the medium-sized brush and dip into the green color. You glance toward him, and begin to sketch on the white canvas.

“Hold on.” He said as he unbuttoned his vest, and slid them off his shoulders. You see him throw the black garment away carelessly, before he loosen up a few buttons of his shirt.

“Dio mio, Gio.” You uttered as you put down your palette. “Can’t you at least not throw it to the floor? It’s gonna get dirty.”

“It’s gonna be laundered anyway.” He replied while he rolled his sleeves, and you just scowled as you picked it up.

“Stronzo.” You mumbled as you dusted off the vest, and went back to your place. You drape the thing onto your chair, before you pick up where you left off.

The green color quickly spreads on the canvas as you map out the scene. You use the blue to sketch out the window, and the soft yellow for the sofa. Your eyes dart to him while you paint, and you hate to admit that he made the right choice to get rid of the vest. He fits perfectly into the picture.

You wonder if you ever see him as relaxed as this before. Although you knew him close enough, he still used his refined manner around you. As you draw the black line, you wonder where his attitude goes.

The brush is quickly switched with a bigger one, and you mix some dye until it resembles the color of the wall. You paint most of the canvas with the new color, and add the shadows and light. You look out the window, and find the sky’s clear. You’re gonna need a lot of blues.

As you work on the details, your eyes inadvertently fall on him. He’s also looking at you, with his cheek resting on his palm.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” He asked.

“Like that… like you’re gonna…” You pressed your lips tightly before you shook your head, “Nevermind.”

You turn your gaze away as you focus on your work. The shadows are roughly placed, and you move on to the greenery.

“You know,” He began to speak as you painted, “I’ve had my portrait done a few times before, but you’re the first one who insists on doing it in my garden.”

“Why? You missed your office already?” You sneered.

“No, but I do miss my whiskey.”

Your brows furrowed, “You don’t drink liquor.”

“I don’t drink when I’m working.”

“Huh.” You replied nonchalantly, “Of course, this is just a picnic for you."

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t consider this as a picnic, there’s no wine and cheese platter for us.”

“Us?” You narrowed your eyes, “This isn’t a date, Gio.”

“I know.” He stated, “It’s just a proposal.”

You feel your blood rushes to your face, and you turn away from him. You can’t think of anything as the reply, so you settle with silence. It didn’t surprise you when he openly flirts with you, and you usually just shrug it off. But this time, you can’t ignore him at all, not when he sounds so serious.

The window on the canvas slowly takes shapes, and provides a good background for the plants. You spend the next hour perfecting the tall foliage, without sparing another glance at him. But you don’t have to look to know that his eyes are glued on you.

As you finish the basic lines of the potted plants, you proceed to draw the long sofa. You keep your head down as you blend the faded cream color, and put them on top of the yellow.

“I think I’ll be working on the background detail now,” You announced without taking your eyes off the canvas, “You can take a break Gio, feel free if you want to leave.”

“I’ll stay.”

You bit your lip, he’s going to be a hell of distraction.

Humans can acknowledge if something’s watching them, and you curse your ancestor for passing down that ability. Even when you try to ignore it, it keeps screaming at the back of your head. Because not only does he keep his eyes on you, the intensity of his gaze also sets your alarm off.

He never looked at you like this before, right? Or have you been ignoring the signs? His friends always teased you, saying that you wouldn't be a great detective. But you're never good at reading someone's thoughts, let alone his mind. God knows what's going on inside his head.

If someone matches up the painter's apathy against the Don's preservation, it's gonna take a long time to know who's the winner. But this time, the answer seems to be clearer. And when your eyes met, you realized how terrifying his stubbornness can be.

"Gio," You mused, "Don't look at me like that…"

His lips spread into a half smile, "Like what?"

You grip your brush tightly, you don't have the courage to speak up your mind. It would be silly to ask the most feared Don about what he wants, because he has been declaring it loud and clear.

"(Y/N)." He called you softly, but as tenderly as it was, he still made your heart race, "Did I make you uncomfortable?"

"I don't know." You looked away, "I just… don't want to get the wrong idea."

His smile grew wider, until the lines around his lips became prominent, "Come here, (Y/N)." He stretches his hand toward you, "I'll let you find out."

There's no need to confirm your suspicion, because the words he just said is a confession itself. You look at him and realize that he doesn't hide his infatuation. And you know better than approaching him without thinking. Because if you do that, it can only mean you reciprocate his feelings.

But do you love him? You asked. Despite the path that he chose, and the fact that you'd be plagued by constant worry about his safety. Will you still love him? Even when you know the misfortune will follow the two of you to the end?

Yes. Yes you would.

You gently put down your palette, and wipe your hands on your handkerchief. You've been repressing your own feelings for so long, but you won't hide anymore. Once you make it to his side, he'll know that you love him. There's no turning back.

He sits on the edge of the sofa by the time you walk to his side. When you stop right in front of him, he reaches for your hand and pulls you closer.

"Won't you regret it?" You muttered while he wrapped his arms around you, "I'm just a mere painter."

"And yet,” He tugs your hands and kisses them tenderly, “You could bring me to my knees.”

You blushed when he placed another kiss on your wrist, “Giorno—”

His head perks up, and you reach out to cup his face. He doesn’t resist when you lean forward, bringing your face closer to him. For a moment, you wonder why the thought of kissing him never crossed your mind before. He looks so… inviting.

He puts his hands on your waist as you press your lips against him. You taste his hunger on your tongue, and he guides your hand to his shoulder. You utter a small squeak when he hooks his arm around you and brings you down to the sofa.

The soft cushion puffs out under the sudden weight of your body. You need a second to process what had just happened, before you see him leaning over you.

Before you had the chance to speak, he already kissed you again. You squeeze your eyes shut as you circle your arms around his neck. Having him so close to you makes you realize how many details you missed out about him. The subtle scent of his shirt, the softness of his hair, the warmth of his skin.

Maybe you’re overwhelmed by love, even adoration. But you swear when you look at him, he never looks as magnificent as he is now.

—

The chatter and the occasional clink of glass fill the room as you walk past the visitors. The exhibition is bustling with people, and the champagne flows endlessly. There’s a few acquaintances around, but you only greet them without a small talk.

Giorno promised you he’ll come, even though you’re strongly against it. You’re worried about him making an appearance in public, but he assured you it’s alright.

This might be the first time you’re feeling nervous in the exhibition. Not because of the display of your art, but rather the incoming arrival of your muse.

When you reach the section of your paintings, your tension drops as you see familiar faces. His friends are coming, and you know Giorno is safe when they’re around.

Bruno is the first to notice your presence, and he smiles as you walk closer.

“Ciao, (Y/N).” He lifts his glass of champagne, and you return the gesture.

“Ciao.” You grinned, “Glad you made it here.”

“I would never miss it, (Y/N).”

The rest of the crew greet you, as they give a short praise for your paintings. But not without commenting about the portrayal of their Don.

“What did you do to him? He doesn’t look scary at all.” Said Narancia, “I swear, he looks more terrifying than usual. I could never get used to seeing him like that.”

“That’s because he only smiles when you mess up something, Narancia.”

“I never thought I’d get to see him without his suit on. I mean, he looks like the kind of man who sleeps in two-piece.” Mista jested.

“Now you mention it,” Abbacchio chipped in, “Why did he agree to be your model?”

You shyly answer, “He’s the one who suggested it.”

“What?” Bruno stares at you wide-eyed, “He asked you to paint him?”

“Sort of.”

Abbacchio strokes his chin slowly, while keeping his eyes on you. “That explains the lack of formal clothes.” He sneered, “So, did he finally succeed?”

“Succeed on what?” You furrowed your brows.

He only sips his champagne as he looks past behind you. The others seem to do the same, and curiosity makes you turn your head.

To say that you didn't expect him to dress up to the nines for the event was half a lie. You know he loves to flaunt, but seeing him like this almost makes you drop your glass. Because not only does he catch everyone's eyes, he doesn't hide his magnetic charm at all.

"Amore." He tugs you close by your waist, and places a peck on your shoulder, then your lips. "Sorry I'm late."

"Gio." You hissed, "I told you—"

"Dio mio!" Narancia gasped as he pointed at the blond, "Did you just kiss her?"

Fugo grabs his head and pulls him away from the group, "Come on now, don't bother them."

The youngest member protested, but he couldn't get away and got dragged further. The rest of the crew just watch them leaving, before they shift their attention to you.

Mista is the first one who speaks, pointing out the obvious, "The two of you are dating?"

"Well," You instinctively rub the back of your neck, "Yeah."

Your lover leans closer to whisper to you, "You don't sound so sure."

"Sorry." You squeeze his hand. "I just don't know how to tell the news to you guys."

"But why?" Bruno's eyes crinkled as he smiles in amusement, "We've been waiting for this moment." His statement made Giorno chuckle, before he pressed a kiss on your crown.

"I miss the time when he didn't care about girls." The silver haired man groans when Bruno kicks on his ankle, "What was that for?" He grunted.

"Aren't you happy that they're finally together?" Mista playfully asked as he circled his arm around his neck, "You used to complain about them all the time."

You raise your brows, but the older man just shoves him away. Mista laughs when he receives the death glare from him.

"Now, now." Giorno spoke up at once, interrupting the early stages of their usual bickering, "If you'd excuse me, I have to go on a date with (Y/N)." He encloses your shoulders with his arm, "She promised to give me a tour around the exhibition."

Bruno gives him a small nod, "Sure," He then adds, "Have fun, you two."

You wish them a good night before Giorno drags you away almost immediately. The drink on your hand almost spilled out as you tried to follow his pace. After walking through the third of the gallery, he stops at the empty corner.

It doesn't take long before he pushes you to the closest wall, and starts kissing you like a hungry man. You voice your protests, but they only get squashed down by his lips. You don't know which, or whose paintings are being displayed beside you, but you hope you won't disturb them by accident.

The two of you finally part to catch a breath, and you just realize that two people just scurry away when they see you. A pang of embarrassment struck you as you're suddenly aware that you got caught making out with him—your own model—on the day of your works' exhibition.

"Didn't I tell you to be patient?"

You put a frown on your face when he softly chuckles. He doesn't seem to mind his manner, which effectively fuels your guilty desire further.

"I've waited for long enough." He expressed with a coy smile, "Don't you think I deserve fair compensation?"

[remusbuzzcutt]

it’d take a lot to pry sunkiller/jarty away from my hands. they both struggled similarly but dealt with it in such different ways. my friend juli wrote about them in a group therapy setting and i absolutely fixated on it for months for some reason??

imagine barty with bpd AND npd. he used people’s emotions like it was second nature. he didn’t even think twice. with that being said, he had an avoidant attachment style. if he was showing raw emotion, it was probably for show. he wasn’t “vulnerable” without the intention to be.

imagine james with bpd, who fixated on people so much that it was all he could thing about. he was obsessive to an almost concerning degree, but that’s what barty wanted.

he wanted to be on james’s mind like that, to consume his every thought. he got off on the idea of someone thinking about him like that. barty noticed the little details, all the things that james liked so that he could use it to make james think he actually cared. it got to a point where barty was trying so hard to get james obsessed with him, he didn’t realise that the only thing he could think about was james. his mood depended on how james reacted to him, how james acted and even the tone he spoke in.

[flywolfwriting]

Throw Me in the Deep End

Charlie was proud to say she was not afraid of the dark. It certainly impressed the other seven-year-olds in her class, and her parents always told her how proud they were that she had conquered that fear so young. That she was so brave for sleeping without a night light. 

It was even mostly true. She could sleep in her own room, and could sneak about the manor in the middle of the night without her heart in her throat, but sometimes it still quickened, and if she looked out the windows her breath caught. She was still only seven, after all, and it was a big, scary world beyond the safety of the manor walls. 

It took her time to settle into their New Orleans holiday home. She learned the creaking of the walls and the whispering of the wind, grew accustomed to the way shadows cloaked her temporary bedroom. She kept the curtains open for just that small glimmer of moonlight and buried her head under her blankets to keep from looking outside. 

She didn't say anything to her parents, though, not even when her mom woke her before sunrise to take her on an early-morning walk. They drove for ages with Charlie napping in the backseat, until her mom pulled over and told her they'd arrived. Charlie hugged close to her, but put on a brave face when Lilith led her into the bayou. She protested only a little when directed to stay put for a moment, her plea cut off with a firm, "You're mommy's brave little girl, aren't you?" 

Charlie wanted so badly to be so she nodded and did as asked. She watched her mother disappear into the darkness and waited. 

And waited.

And kept waiting. 

The song of the bayou played around Charlie and her trembling fingers clutched the hem of her shirt tightly as she tried not to imagine glowing eyes creeping closer around her, silent tears streaking her cheeks. 

Finally she could take it no more and with a sob she raced back the way they'd come. 

"Mommy!"

—---------------------

Alastor loved nights like this, when the shadows clung to him like cobwebs and the crescent moon offered just enough light to avoid stepping into the alligator-infested waters. He could see the glint of their eyes watching as he dumped the duffle bag and opened it. They moved closer but didn't creep onto the small finger of land he stood on. They simply waited, and when he threw the first limb into the water they struck, the still bayou turning into churning bodies fighting for meat. 

Alastor threw the next piece, quietly humming as he watched them feed. This was almost the best part, second only to the moment blood welled under his fingers and his victim realized they were about to die. He kept the best cuts to himself, of course, but the gators seemed to appreciate his treats all the same. 

When he finished he loaded the bag with soil before tossing it in, tucked his gloves back into his pocket, and set off with a spring in his step. 

That was when he heard the sob.

Alastor froze, listening carefully. The bayou was full of strange sounds but he had learned them all, knew each creak of wood, the splash of an alligator sliding into the water, the hum of every insect. He slipped into the shadow between the trees and waited, his knife at the ready. They weren't truly deep within the bayou itself; he couldn't risk the noise of a boat. It was plausible someone had followed him. 

What came next was a greater shock: a child, a little girl, stumbling into view. 

No, they weren't deep, but dawn had yet to crack the sky and they weren't near any roads. 

Alastor resisted a sigh and tucked his knife back into its sheath against his thigh and stepped out. 

The girl let out a short scream and fled.

“Wait-” Alastor called, then took off after her. He couldn't see her anymore but he heard her footsteps, another short scream, and the expected splash as she fell into the water. 

And then a more familiar kind of splash.

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[lloydlings]

FABRIC

by me (flyingdutchman on AO3)

A one shot about Lloyd’s importance in the universe and his element in the very life.

“Your place is in the Fabric of the Universe”

Lloyd has always known his role, tying into the closely knit threads. Threads that span all of Ninjago, and now the sixteen realms. For he knew it in his youth, where he clinged to the feeling in the air, the frequency of his friends, the glow in his chest.

The power he holds.

The power he holds is not a normal one. It is not easily describable, nor is it describable at all. It's living, breathing, competent, strong. It speaks for him when he has nothing to say. It burns a fire that nothing can quell, even not himself.

It feels un-attached, acting of his own force and capability. Making decisions for him that he'd rather control himself. But that is his power. It's not normal.

As the boy has grown older, so has his power grown with him. He knows himself to be a grandson of a godly being, no matter how harsh, or no matter how interceptive it can be. Sometimes he wishes that not to be the case. For when his anger rises like a fierce tidal wave that only his sister could rival, so does his power with it. Like the banging of bars on a metal cage, locked inside without a key.

His volatility is his weakness. Wu had made it clear time and time again, but now the wise master is all but a wisp. A forgotten memory. Someone that Lloyd has yet to make contact with, someone that Lloyd values so highly. Perhaps it is though because Wu, does not value his own power at all.

That on the other hand of it all, his father has depended on his power more than anybody. At least to the point of where his father is now, or the current form he takes. Lloyd remembers the soft, pinging-- but calm frequency his father radiated in the time where Lloyd was still harnessing his Golden Power. A thing dutily ripped away from him when push came to shove.

Instead he seems to lose the closeness, the memory. His father's power is cold. He's felt it, like a brisk poison rushing to all senses. Like a dagger to the heart. Like pain, rushing through his bones, and twisting-shoving-screaming---crying... His father's power is destruction, and yet he's felt these on the recieving end, he also knows the value in it in himself.

With this power passed down, before he swore to never give in to it again. It was a rush, like a cool rush through the air, a swift turning in his chest, a reason to keep fighting. Destruction is fleeting, but addictive, so addictive that he's felt it control him. Winding up like a broken toy, destroying all that comes forth. But it's the cool that quells the warm. It's the cool that makes his senses finally dullen to a point where he can actually breathe.

For it's been so long since he could actually breathe.

Because, "energy" might be life, but it's always running. It's the feeling in the air, it's the happiness, it's the pain. It's knowing everything, and feeling everything all at once and not being able to control it. To feel what you don't want to feel. For everything to be there, whether the sounds, whether the slight movement that would catch anyone in a loop. But with that is the slight knowledge that he cannot control it.

He will never be able to control the life that burns within him.

He is not like the others.

As it is, what it is, life cannot be controlled.

And his own life has fought like wildfire, even if he'd want it extinguished, even if he'd want to greet death like an old friend.

It's healed his wounds, it's lied, it's exclaimed his greatness, it burns.

Sometimes his friends exclaim the greatness of their powers, the calmness. Zane explaining to him one night for that he is calmed down, he is cooled by the ice that reaches his mind. Nya by the water, the rush in her veins. But Lloyd is not one and the same. His powers are volatile. They shift to one side, and sink, the other.

Lloyd, unlike the others, feels his power in his heart. Exhilaration, restlessness, like the tick of a metronome. The tick that his time is up, the tick that means sometime soon he won't have to fight anymore, but it doesn't stop. He hears it, in a low hum, a buzzing feeling akin to electricity, that makes him believe everything will dissolve into static. But it's haunting, knowing it in every waking moment. Knowing that one day it will stop, one day it will finally give in--- yet every he gets close it's restarted like a video game.

He feels it when he harnesses, and with it he's been overdrawn more than anyone else. He hates his power. He hates how weak it makes him feel, how weak and unassuming. He hates that when he over-extends it, he's not okay. He's not okay like the ninja. He's not okay, because it's tied to his life. It's intertwined.

"Your place is in the Fabric of the Universe." Master Wu says to the young child, blonde hair alight.

Lloyd underestimated his words at the time, but feels them now. Whether it be anything, for Fire, Lightning, Earth, and Ice, or Golden Power, or Oni Power, or Energy, or ---

Now he underestimates it even more. As his power fights within him. Fights against him. Warns him.

Becoming the Conduit to the Dragons wasn't easy.

Lloyd has known his mortality, his human nature, and that source Dragon knew it too. But becoming what he thought would save the world and did, is something he underestimated so much, much to the point where he'd been in a hyperactive state of coma, much to everyone's horror.

He had known when he stepped into that room with the Source Dragon.

Like a pang at his chest, the buzzing even more pronounced more than anything.

And then he'd given into it, and what he thought, every transformation, every fight, everything had become so miniscule, obsolete, unasumming, because this power, this thing he channels like a battery, is more powerful than anything.

It burns but it also brings warmth-- it stresses but it also guides.

But it's starting to take over his life, it's starting to mess with him, his powers, his life. He knows that possibly sometime when he steps into it again, he might not step out. He might not wake up. It may claim his energy.

But he is but the fabric of the universe.

[rjthirsty]

Gilbert Predator/Prey

Words: 2,600

Tags: Biting, Female Reader, Possessive Behavior, PIV sex, Smut, Kinktober2024, creampie

A/N: @moonstruckmelancholic requested a Predator/Prey with Gilbert, with a quote prompt that is in also in the fic as part of my 100 followers event. I hope I did it justice.

Prince Gilbert never took his eye off you.

He watched as you made your way through the social circles in the ballroom. Chatting with other men. Laughing at their jokes. The way they touched your shoulder, your arm, your lower back. You never reciprocated, but they were touching you and you were not theirs.

He watched as you danced with nearly every Rhodolite prince. The way they all doted on you. The way they held hands with you. The way you smiled when they leaned close to speak privately to you. You were gorgeous in the way you moved about the room, but you were being led by someone else. Someone who you didn’t belong to.

He watched as you glanced around the room, feeling someone’s gaze on you. Your eyes found his. You’d quickly avert your gaze. No one was supposed to know the two of you were close. So close. And with a renewed attempt, you’d continue to be part of the merrymaking ignoring the way he watched your every move.

When you excused yourself, Prince Gilbert was waiting outside the restroom, the hallway deserted save for you two. Your heart thumped a warning. His cane thumped the wall, preventing you from moving past him. He stepped close - so close - to mutter in your ear. “The next hand that touches my pretty little rabbit will be broken.”

The threat causes you to tremble. Or was it the way his breath gusted against your ear? Was it from excitement or fear? The tiny thrill you got from his promise of violence was not something you wanted to admit or look too closely at.

His gloved fingers trail from the nape of your neck down your spine to the swell of your ass. Your lips part in a silent sigh of longing, hoping there would be more, but his cane lowers from in front of you and you knew he was dismissing you. Letting you go for now.

You press your lips back together and take a breath to calm your rapidly beating heart. Knowing you've been released from between the black tiger's claws. He was toying with you. Showing you how easy it was to corner you and set your heart racing.

Returning to the party, your thoughts were preoccupied. Thoughts of him. Thoughts of what he does to you– with you. His threat repeating each time someone spoke to you, suddenly more conscious of who reached for you and moving out of their way.

No one touches you but him.

You look for him among the crowd. Surely he's watching. He's always watching. But from where you can't tell. You can't find his hungry eye or sharp grin. Perhaps it's a ploy to get you to let your guard down. Perhaps he's nearer than you think and as soon as an accidental touch reaches you he'll make himself known with violence and power.

Perhaps it's time to retire to prevent such a thing.

As soon as you cross the threshold to your room you can feel it. He's there. The air hums, vibrating inside you, causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end. Slowly, cautiously, deliberately, you close the door, turning the lock into place.

You've trapped yourself with him. You turned your back to him. You're showing him how much you trust by putting your neck between his jaws and hoping he doesn't crush the life out of you.

Like the monster he is, he coalesces out of the shadows. You can't see him, eyes pinned to the door just like he pins you there. His body behind you, pressed against you. His hands trace your curves. His voice sweetly purrs, heated breath on your neck. “You've pleased me, Little Rabbit. Coming to see me right away.”

The familiar feel of luxurious leather slides under your jaw as his gloved fingers trace to your chin and over your throat to come to a rest on your pulse. You already know by the way your chest is pounding that he’ll be pleased with how it’ll flutter under his fingers. This time you know it isn’t fear. This time you know it’s excitement and the thrill of what is to come. Will he be rough? Will he be kind? How will he conquer you tonight?

His free hand makes quick work of the laces holding your dress together. Much too quick. In a matter of seconds, your fancy gown is nothing more than a splendid pool of color encircling your feet.

Your heart beats harder. Beats faster. His lips touch the curve of your neck and you can feel him smiling. He's pleased. Then his teeth sink into flesh and the pain that accompanies his love sears a mark into your skin.

You cover your mouth to prevent the cry that threatens to spill from you. Fingers press tight to lips pursed and teeth clenched. Gilbert relents on your shoulder, his tongue soothing the burn that he inflicted upon you. His cooler temperature helps ease the pain. His tongue velvety soft as he laps at the angry mark.

Your fingers fall from your lips and a sigh floats out of you. Gil's fingers fall from your throat, drifting over your clavicle to the swell of your breasts. Pushed into two lovely mounds by your corset, his leather-clad digits draw across each pillowy tit, promising a gentleness Gilbert is not known for.

The sudden tugging of the ties on your corset is a drastic contrast to the light touch you had just been granted. Almost violently, Gilbert removes the shell that covered your chest. He discards it out of your sight, but you can hear the stiff fabric hit the floor.

Then he is gone from your proximity. He moves with precision and grace. You watch as he circles the room, pulling off accessories and gloves and shirts and nearly disrobing fully, his dark red eye landing on you expectantly. His gaze could pin you to the spot or pull you to him like a glowing lure, and right now you feel the call of his command leading you to step out of your shoes and drop the last garment covering your sex as you move to in front of him.

“Show me.” The way his lips pull back from his teeth to reveal his deadly maw in such a beautiful smile hastens the wetness growing between your legs. 

Obediently, you crawl onto the bed. Rising to your knees, facing him, legs spread for balance, you keep your eyes locked on him, watching him like he watches you. Hungry. Needy. But unlike him, so obedient and desperate.

Your lips part and your tongue makes an appearance as you lick two of your fingers, drawing them into your mouth to thoroughly wet them. Reaching between your legs, you slide your wet digits between your labia where your body lacks lubricant, pushing against the sides of your clit and giving it a cheeky little rub before you move to where you need no additional moisture. Your entrance is already slick. Slipping your fingers in up to the first knuckle, your cunt mourns the loss of your own touch as you lift your sticky arousal to fulfill Gilbert's order.

A thin thread strings between your fingers as you spread them, displaying how wet he makes you. He is pleased, once again. Practically salivating at the thought of devouring you.

The distance between you shrinks. His hand takes hold of your wrist. His tongue runs the length of your wet fingers, bringing them into his mouth for him to savor your taste. It's sinful, the way he sucks on them. One cleaned fully, he pops it out of his mouth, sucking the last of you off the other. Then his teeth take hold and it takes everything in you to not pull away.

Almost apologetically, Gil sucks your finger again, his tongue swirling around it as the tip toys with the indents he just made in your skin. His lips are soft. Dragging your finger from his mouth, he lets you linger - the only time you will be granted your own actions. And linger you do. Brushing his bottom lip that holds such softness in sweet kisses but hides the sharp sting of his bite.

His teeth catch your finger again, biting for only a second before his tongue laps at the blooming mark and his mouth moves to the next spot. Like a lover kissing his way to your mouth, Gilbert travels up your arm with bites more painful than nips and soothing licks that barely ease the ache of his teeth.

You rush to meet his mouth. Tongues caressing and tasting each other. The bed dips from his weight. His cool fingers roughly push between your folds. You gasp as he hooks them inside you, searching for that rougher patch not far inside your entrance. He swallows your moan. He steals your breath. He is relentless.

Gilbert descends on you. Without the need to guide you, he overpowers you. You bend beneath him. Shrink and fold and crawl and submit until you're on your back and he's above you. Your mouths barely separate and his fingers in your cunt continue to press and rub and curl offering a kindness for everything he's taking from you.

His thumb tucks next to your clit, pushing back the hood to strum your sensitive bud. It firms up immediately and he swirls it around with the pad of his thumb, pressing into the nerves below the surface. His fingers inside you continuing to coax a climax from you.

His mouth leaves yours. You're gasping for breath. Muffled moans no longer muted, now allowed to sound freely. A sharp hiss between your teeth when he closes you between his teeth. Your neck. Your shoulder. Your breast. His painful proclamations of adoration are scattered over your body. But wherever his teeth go, his tongue follows and the pleasure from his sucks, licks, and kisses are enough to forgive his sharp fangs.

You reach your peak and tip over the edge. Thighs squeezing together. Cunt clenching but his two fingers are not enough to feel full from. Your walls flutter and search for something more. It could have been so much more if he had just fucked you first. But Gilbert was a man that didn't freely give. He knew he'd have you craving him if he provided an inch for every mile you needed.

His fingers glisten as he licks your arousal from them. You're more than just obedient now. You're addicted. He is all of your thoughts. He is your heart. You breathe for him and him alone. And you would gladly let him have you any way he wants.

“Roll over my little rabbit.”

On hand and knees, you can feel him moving behind you. Removing his last article of clothing. Knees setting on the outside of your legs. He can't help but run a finger over your wet slit. He seems to love the way you taste as much as you love him tasting you. Fingers and thumbs grip your hips and he directs you into more of a tilt, bringing your ass higher and your pussy closer to him. Palms brush your lower back, pushing your hips further in a tilt and guiding you to your elbows.

His cock slides along your wet folds teasingly. “Beg me to be gentle.”

“Please…” You whimper, leaning towards him in an attempt to get him to slip inside you.

“Little Rabbit~.” He prompts, the tip of his dick slowly pushing into your entrance but stopping only just inside.

You lean towards him again but his hand holds the two of you from coming together. “Hnmph.” You pout. “Please, Gil…”

“Please, what?” As a reward, he pushes another inch inside you.

“Please, Gil, please. Please fuck me. Please! I want to feel you inside me, please! I need you inside me. Ah–!”

What was taking too long suddenly came too fast. Gilbert's cock shoved inside you with no regard for lubing himself. It entered easily at first, but his length eventually used up the slickness at your hole becoming rough and dragging the last few inches. His hand clamps on your hip, holding you from pulling away from him. His other hand sits flat on your lower back, keeping you angled how he had arranged you. 

“That's not right, now is it?” Without giving you the chance to accommodate or adjust, he starts pounding into you. The discomfort is hardly noticeable with the way your walls quiver finally being stimulated. It's mind numbing. It's hard to think. It just feels so good.

“Haah! Ah! Hnnah!” You can't even get a word out as his force and pace smacks the moans from your throat. It's so good. So good.

“Such a pervert.” He says the words adoringly. There is no shame or disgust, just delight. “Ahaha-ah.” Skin slaps. Your whole body rocks with each thrust. “Little Rabbit- hnnh- wants it rough.”

“Uh-huhn. Uhn. Ahnh.” You shove your face into the mattress, hands under your shoulders to keep you from putting too much pressure on your neck. Tipping your tailbone up, you try to offer more of your pussy to him. He’d go deeper if you moved closer. Feeling his cock hammering into you is exactly the sort of thing you need right now.

His fingers dig in harder on your hip. He's enjoying this. Your ass blushes from the impact of his hips. If your pussy was easier to see, it would be a lovely shade of pink as well. But the view Gilbert gets to witness is brief but erotic - his cock pistoning into you, disappearing down to his black bush.

Your legs begin to tremble. You can feel the next orgasm tensing within you. Your back naturally tries to straighten as your muscles begin to flex, but Gil's hand holds you down, tipped in that delicious angle. Fingers curl into the blankets. Moans become more strangled and desperate.

“Haahh, you feel so good.” Gilbert groans.

Just like that the tension snaps and sends you into body shaking convulsions. Gil slows down, rocking into you. Nuzzling deep and slow. Your cunt clinches him and he drags you down his length. His flat palm on your lower back presses harder, fingertips flexing into you. Your climax washes up your spine to the base of your skull and that wonderful weightlessness drowns your thoughts.

Gilbert strokes himself through your orgasm. Gentle words praising you. Filthy words complimenting you. Each sound he makes draws your spasms out longer and longer until you don't think you can keep it up. Coming this hard - this long - it was too much. It was exhausting but so so good. It was mind-numbing but sent sensations sizzling in every part of you.

“Haahng. Hngh. Aah. Ngh” Gil moans when he comes. His cock throbs so deep in your cunt. Shivers shake you, dancing from erogenous zones to fingertips and toes. He finally stops moving. Stops stimulating your swollen cunt. You are granted time to catch your breath and your sanity. Gilbert panting above you. You gasping below him.

When he pulls out, you can feel the mess between your legs. He slowly helps you move out of your contortions. Stiff joints from too much pressure in a position for too long. But he's there to ease your weight and move your limbs. You lie there sprawled on the bed, Gilbert clinging to you for warmth. But also a protective need to claim you as only his. Curling around his treasure like a greedy dragon clutching his most valuable possession.

He truly needn't worry. You were his from the moment he caught you in his dark red eye. You delight in placing yourself within his claws and between his teeth. Even when he digs into you, and pain burns where he rends, he'll lick your wounds and fill you with his need. He is yours as much as you are his. 

[kulai]

REPOST! because i forgot to add tags since i was sleep deprived sawrry

based on ch.17 of chaos for the fly by @laylajeffany!! fed me wenclair for months and im still not halfway done. if you want a genuinely good long read, go check it out!! :DD (more under the cut)

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Stuck in a Rut: Dante x G/N Reader

NSFW ahead Minors DNI

Seriously go away, children Summary:Dante is going through his first rut with you being his mate. Things have been going fine; he’s been doing what he needs and you have been enjoying it. However, it is the last week of his season and he is having issues relieving his ‘itch’ for you.

Beginning Notes: Since I keep writing long stories; I decided to take a break and write something smaller. This isn’t super descriptive or anything, but I like it idk lmao I know that this is “unrealistic” and that like over like 7 inches or some shit would hurt you (and can kill you) just roll with it. ✨🩸✨ Bottom G/N Reader x Top Dante--written with Male in mind, but no describing words or terms used that indicate such. Basically, just smut with very minor fluff Monsterfucking; Devil Trigger, Sin Devil Trigger Knotting Overstimulation; reader tells him to stop but it is disingenuous Minor Mating/Breeding Kink Biting Very Minor choking Small blood warning

==

     Over the past few weeks, Dante and you had been sharing your (or rather his) first rut together. Things were going fine, great actually. The devil had been able to satisfy himself within a few rounds every six or seven hours. When you had sex it was mindblowing and, afterwards, he would shower you with pure romantic affections that made your heart melt. Today, however, Dante was having a hard time fulfilling those inner unholy urges.

     “Fuck- Dante~!” you felt the red devil manhandle you into a downward dog pose. A roasting grey-scaled hand pushed roughly down onto the back of your neck; forcing your head down and your hips up, “Wait-- Please--”

     Without hesitation, Dante shoved himself back inside and let out a tumultuous growl. Loud squelching noises came from you with every thrust of his hips, courteous of the several previous rounds of lovemaking. The two of you had been slamming hips together for nearly an hour now and you were beyond sore. Your hands gripped violently at the disheveled bedding as you felt him pick up the pace once more. 

     Dante moved his hand from the back of your neck and the top of your head, yanking it backwards. Slowly, he kissed along your neckline and was doing his best not to bite down too hard into your soft flesh. 

     “Fuck,” you hissed at him, “bite me if that’s what-- Ah~!” 

     You didn’t have to tell him twice, he bit down harshly piercing your skin with his sharp teeth. The red devil’s thrusts had become short and rough as he set the side of his face against yours. Hot breath washed over your skin as you leaned back against him; hoping that meant he was finally reaching his final peak. 

     With a final hard slam, he came inside you once more; burying himself to the hilt. Because of how much Dante had been ramming your poor hole, it didn’t take much force to push his knot inside your body. Not only that but, you were full enough that his cum was already running out of your body. 

     The two of you sat breathing heavily as you mumbled to him, “Are you..?” you couldn’t even finish your sentence out of exhaustion. 

     Dante didn’t respond.

     You exasperatedly face-planted into the bed, muffling your words, “Oh my god…”

     The red devil’s voice was soft and ladened with a thick feeling of remorse as he whispered, “I’m sorry… We can stop if--”

      With a loud huff, you turned your head slightly to unmuffle your voice, “Why don’t you just use it?”

     “Wait--” Dante stiffened and sat upwards, pulling himself from your body--making you groan loudly, “You mean..?”

     “Y-yes,” your hips dropped to lay flat on the bed and you shivered at the feeling of his seed gushing out of your body, “At this point, I don’t care.”

     Dante stared down at you for a moment in thought, his cock still standing at full attention. Carefully, he flipped you over to face him and placed his hands flatly on the mattress beside your body, “You don’t know what you are asking me to do-- This will hurt,” admittedly, his cock was aching at you making such a naughty request.

     “Dante,” you tiredly set a hand on his cheek, slowly running your thumb over the ridges of his face, “Do it.”

     His brow furrowed as he frowned with worry, “But--”

     “I want you to fuck me in your Sin Trigger, Dante,” your fingers slid behind the plating on his jaw and pulled slightly, eliciting a groan from the devil, “I want you to break me.”

     A low growling came from deep within his chest as he looked down at you, “Last chance to back--”

     You roughly pulled him down to meet your lips and forced your tongue into the heat of his mouth. Dante groaned at the feeling of you instigating such a fervorous kiss. The two of you fought for dominance, which Dante won of course; allowing him to explore your cavern freely. Once the two of you broke apart, the devil leaned back and stood up from the mattress. 

     Before you were even able to lean upwards to see him, a large set of broiling hands yanked you by your ankles to the foot of the bed. You swallowed hard as you felt the same set of grey and red scaled hands pick you up by your middle. Quickly, you wrapped your legs around the un-armored parts of his abs. This caused you to nick the underside of your legs on the large sharp spikes that decorated his thighs--making you hiss in pain. 

     In all your time being with him--even before you started dating--you had only seen his Sin Trigger a handful of times and that was always at a distance. Now that you are seeing him up close and personal, you were semi-afraid of your larger-than-life lover. His stature was enormous and the snarling growls he made as he moved you around like a toothpick, made you fearfully aroused. 

     That’s when you felt it. 

     Although you know Dante warned you, you didn’t really consider exactly how he meant that this would hurt; you, of course, knew that his dick would grow with him, but this was much more than you expected. You gasped at the feeling of his overwhelmingly thick cock head that prodded at your hole, trying to enter your body. Thankfully, there was plenty of Dante’s cum to use as lubrication; otherwise, the devil would have torn through your insides. 

     You shouted in pain at him trying to shove himself inside, “Fuck!” desperately, you clawed and grabbed at his biceps, “Dante-! Slower, pl-please,” tears had already sprung to the corners of your eyes as you grimaced, trying to relax. 

     Admittedly, you were worried if he was going to be able to understand you; however, the red devil did slow down as you requested. Relieved at the small amount of control he displayed, you closed your eyes to focus on allowing him inside. He slowly inched his way into your hole, emitting a low rumbling growl the entire time.

     All the while, Dante licked at your neck and face in an attempt to apologize. The red devil had no lips to kiss you with, so this was the best that he could manage. His tongue was pleasantly hot and felt like a cat licking you; gently scraping your skin. Although you were overwhelmed by the insurmountable feeling of being stretched out by his cock, you couldn’t help but laugh at the strangly cute action. However, this died down as you suddenly felt a pain start in your lower abdomen. 

     “Wait--” Dante stopped both the movement of his hips and tongue at your words. Your breathing was heavy as you spoke between breaths, “I can’t take any more in, please…” the red devil had pushed nearly ten inches inside your hole and still had plenty to spare. 

     He seemed to understand and stood still, allowing you to try to adjust. Distantly, you found yourself worrying about him trying to push too far into you when he finishes but were quickly brought back to reality by the sudden shifting of the red devil. 

     A loud sharp mixture of a moan and shout left your lips from him sliding out a few inches and pushing back in; moving in slow restrained movements, “Fuck~! Dante, holy sh-shit,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he moved more. 

     It only took a few minutes for Dante to work up to a brutal pace. Loud and animalistic growls left his body as he fucked up into you, holding you like a living fleshlight--and treating you with the same respect. His fingers had tightened around your middle, bruising it almost instantly. A small amount of blood began to drip from your sides from the pin-prick tips of his claws slicing into your skin. Each one of Dante’s thrusts only made him hunger more for your body; hunger to make you his.

     All this in contrast to you; you who was scarcely able to hold on and just continued loudly moan miscellaneous gibberish at the devil. A small amount of drool began to dribble from your mouth as you did your best to stay awake and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You felt Dante begin to heat up, a sign that he was getting close--which he was much hotter than his Regular Trigger, you noted. 

     Wanting to hold him, you use what little energy you had and leaned forwards. Carefully, you set your hands on his face doing your best to avoid the spikes along his jaw. Upon feeling your small gentle human hands, the devil leaned into you and placed his forehead against yours. Dante growled louder in pleasure at your touch and cocooned you with his wings; holding you even closer. Although it wasn’t clear because of the lack of pupils, you thought he was staring into your eyes--a rather romantic gesture during such a less-than-such fuck fest.

     It was swelteringly hot within the bundling grasp of the devil, to the point of you feeling lightheaded. You knew Dante would stop if you passed out so you did your best to push him over the edge by trying to tighten your body--not wanting to have to try again later.

     “Dante,” your voice was hoarse, “Please~” you felt him tighten his grip, “I’m all yours, Dante. Plea-ah~” his thrusts became short and ragged, “Just- Gah~ please…”

     At this point, Dante was doing everything in his power to not force himself all the way inside you--knowing that you would die. However, all he wanted to do to knot your tight hole--to breed you. Because of this intense focus, he hadn’t noticed that he had his claws sunk nearly an inch into your flesh and had begun to burn your delicate human skin with his scorching scaled palms. 

     You, admittedly, had noticed but were beyond overstimulated and exhausted; so you didn’t care as long as he hit his climax.

     It only took a few more stiff hard jabs before he spilled his hot load. Not really thinking, the red devil sunk his teeth deep into you as he normally would; not thinking of the consequences that this could and would have. Not only were his teeth razor sharp and quite large; the inside of his mouth was scaldingly hot and burnt your skin. The devil’s teeth sunk just shy of an inch deep into the side of your neck--making you suddenly aware of what he just did. 

     You shouted in both pain and pleasure, “Dante~! That--” you hissed as you sliced your palm on his shoulders, forgetting that he is covered in spikes, “That hurts-- Ah~!” you moaned loudly as you felt him shift his hips a bit.

     The red devil just stood there unloading himself into your trembling body. You were full enough that most of his seed ended up on the floor and both of you; however, despite this, the devil made sure to stay inside you. He thunderously purred through his bite, making you feel tingly at the strange sensation. Admittedly, you were on cloud nine and the rumbling sensation only added to the intense overstimulation caused by your lover. 

     The two of you stood for several minutes as Dante slowly ground himself against you, still fighting the urge to push further into your delightfully full hole; the hole that belonged to him. His wings slowly unfurled from around you and his grip slowly loosened; removing his claws from your skin. You were on the verge of unconsciousness as you felt him shift once more; this time, however, it was because he was slowly backing out of his Sin Trigger--moving to his Regular Trigger. 

     A low groan left your pursed lips as you felt him remove his cock with an audible pop. You shivered as you felt a sudden wetness drip down your legs; accompanied by the feeling of being both too full and uncomfortably empty. The next thing he did was release his vice grip of a bite.

     There were thick lines of his spit mixed with your blood that strung between your flesh and him as he slowly removed himself from you tender neck. Still coming down from his high, Dante had a wide smile as he gently set you down on a clean section of the bed. Looking down at your disheveled form, he wiped the blood from his mouth with a large proud smirk. You were relatively out of it at this point; wanting nothing more than to sleep--not caring about how messy everything was or how much loving pain you were in. The red devil placed a gentle kiss on your forehead due to a warm overly-sappy lovey feeling beginning to fill his chest.

     It wasn’t until he saw blood begin to quickly pool on the sheets below your neck that he began to realize the gravity of the situation. Although it wasn’t uncommon for you to end up with some bleeding marks during the last few weeks; the bite from this session was much deeper and had larger holes than normal. Without thinking, the fiery devil placed one of his palms on your neck to cauterize the wound shut. 

     Which pulled you right back to reality with a loud shout, “Fuck! Dante!” you tried to pull away from his palm. 

     With a small huff, Dante used his other hand to brace the opposing side of your neck and held you in place. After a few painfully long minutes, the devil removed his hand. A strained grunt left his lips as he returned to his human form, now just as exhausted as you.

     You were breathing heavily and had tear streaks running down your face, “Why..?”

     He sighed and gently placed his head against your chest as he mumbled, “You were bleeding too much…”

     A small agreeing, “Ah,” is all you could manage to say.

     Admittedly, it was a good thing you were semi-delirious; otherwise, you would have shared in Dante’s worry. If he had bit down just a little further through your soft neck, the red devil would have bitten through your jugular and killed you. The two of you would have to figure out a safer way for him to use that side of him; if you want him to use it at all. 

     Before the two of you could discuss it, a small gentle snore caught Dante’s attention. You were already fast asleep. The devil stood up with a small shake of his head and a large toothy smile as he made his way to get some cleaning and medical supplies.

     Surely you were going to be angry about how much your neck--and the rest of your body--hurt from today; however, that is for future Dante to worry about. All he wanted to do right now was clean you up and curl up close to you. You, his partner, lover,  mate; his everything. 

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Ending Notes: Hope y'all enjoyed this even though it's kinda short. The next story will most likely be a fluffy (not angsty) Vergil fic; so stay tuned lmao

==

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

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[voltstone]

they adopt a cat named floof (Wenclair One-Shot)

wednesday, for her girlfriend, gets a cat. she finds a way to bypass the “no pet” policy in order to do so. :)

(inspired by this post)

[1,268 Words] | [Last Edit: 11/12/2022] (Full One-Shot Post)

Note: This one-shot has been reposted from my old account onto this one. If it looks familiar, that's why.

Hope you enjoy! :)

Enid has figured, months ago, that she might as well be dating an Eldritch horror.

At first, she thought that Wednesday is just an angsty little goth. Come to find, her aesthetic and snapped wit are the most outwardly charming things about her. Because, as much as Enid loves her, Wednesday is really, really fucked in the head. 

Fucked head or not, though, Wednesday has a heart. She does. Sure, it may be in her foot for all Enid knows, but watching how she plays along with Eugene’s bee-scapades, and how cordial she and Bianca have gotten, she knows there’s a heart of gold in Wednesday. (That or she’s color-blind and it’s not gold but rather, in fact, dirt.)

Not that it matters. After too long of a day, Enid is ready to collapse onto Wednesday’s bed and badger her until she stops her “hour of novel writing” in exchange for, uh, osculation. 

Some days the struggle is short-lived. Wednesday gets needy too. But other days, the “hour of novel writing” is extended to several, and a long, long pout-full sleep on her bed. Hopefully today is the former. Given the labs, and the lectures, and the other labs, Enid really just needs to scratch an itch. And by that, it’s really Wednesday scratching it, and then Enid taking a nap afterwards. With Wednesday. (They cuddle.)

The door is nudged open. A hinge creaks, and a floorboard groans. Her eyes find Wednesday immediately. By the window. Waiting for her. Mildly surprised, but, ultimately, glad. Enid smiles widely. “Wednesday! Your novel's…”

“Done for the day. I did it this morning.” She straightens as Enid closes the door. "Enid,“ Wednesday prompts, and though she catches a quirk down her lips, Enid can’t help but feel…cautious. A Wednesday with her hands behind her back is a Wednesday with too big of a trick up her sleeve. "I have a surprise for you." See?!

Wait.

Cautious or not, a wide smile flourishes. "A…surprise?”

“Yes.” A blink. (Surprisingly. Heh.) “You said that you wanted a pet to keep us and Thing in better company.”

If Enid could jump Wednesday’s cold, frigid bones, she would. But, alas, as much as she loves Thing, Enid isn’t sure if she’d appreciate two running around—as a hand, and then a paw. So she stands herself squarely and musters a curious face. “Yeah, I-I did… So…?" A grin is pressed. Oh fuck, she can’t bear holding herself together any longer. Her hands are clasped. The grin cracks glee. "What is the little one…?! A gerbil? A ferret? A—” Enid practically melts off the face of the earth. “A kitten?!”

Wednesday maintains her composure, but that quirk down her lips worms. “Not quite. Close your eyes.”

She does as told, and she hears Wednesday shift with the surprise in her arms. Her grin is wide with her tongue snagged between teeth.

“Enid. I got us a cat.”

There’s a hop, and a skip, and yip! before she has the chance to open her eyes. "O-M-G! Can we name it Floof—?!“ When Enid does open her eyes, she… U-Um. Well, um. She sees orange. And the cat is…staring at her. Except it’s disconcerting and not at all like Wednesday; rather than stare deep into her soul to lobotomize it, the cat is, like, staring…through…it?

Wednesday tilts her head. Another blink. "What?”

The—

The cat isn’t fucking moving. It just…isn’t. It's—

Oh my fuck, what the God did you do, Wednesday?! 

Enid stands in place, feet anchored to the ground, as she stares at the… The— M-Muppet. Dead muppet. There’s a swallow, and then, a squeaked, "…w-why does it look like that?“

Wednesday lobotomizes Enid’s soul (affectionately). "Like what? The child we shall raise? Together?” …that shouldn’t have flipped Enid’s heart over. It’s practically roasting on a skillet now.

Enid lurches a quite tentative step forward. She meets…Floof by its vacant stare. "Did you put googly-eyes on it?“

"Well it is taxidermy,” Wednesday confirms, bluntly. She gazes down at the cat’s face, and the black dots follow. “I felt you would have appreciated her eyes.”

“Instead of what?”

Wednesday stares back at her. “The eyes I found bludgeoned from her head.”

Where did she get this cat?! Enid follows Wednesday to her desk. …Floof is gently set down beside the typewriter, and as Wednesday fixes a bent whisker in place, Enid hears Thing scatter across the room and back under one of the beds. 

Judging from the multitude of blemishes across…her body, it’s clear that Floof spent all nine lives at once. Poor thing. Yet, she looks as alive as Enid supposed she was not months ago—googly-eyes discounted. She imagines Wednesday’s lithe fingers spindling to sew the worst of death, hide it away, and it’s a mellow thought, if morbid. Her coat looks soft, and her body, strong. Put back together, at least. "That's— That’s such a pretty pattern on Fl-Floof’s back,“ Enid comments.

"Goodyear, for a truck—winter coverage.”

…a-ah. Okay.

Wednesday lingers in place, with her eyes avoidant, and hands tied together. It takes a moment before she begins to ramble—a rarity, with Wednesday, and Enid feels her own heart pool to her foot: “You said you wanted a cat, but I told you—again—that we can’t because of the academy’s policy, but you looked like you wanted to kill yourself when I said that—”

“…Wednesday, I’m not…s-suicidal.”

“—so I went out searching for one, on the roads, and I found this one. She looks like a lot of your sweaters, which is disgusting, so I figured it’d work out. We wouldn’t have to pay for any of the necessities she needed alive, though I’m sure enough nail-paint and -remover will do the equivalent.”

Enid grimaces, though her eyes land on Floof’s white paws, and they snag each toe. “She does have nice nails.”

“I filed them.”

A hum down her mouth, because Enid can smell the anxiety off her neck—even from around the desk, despite whether or not Wednesday herself realizes it. But it's…funny, really. There’s a sort of beauty about it, how mental gymnasticshas become the sound way to understand Wednesday’s language:

Want a pet? Can’t have one because of rules. So, here’s a dead one. With pretty nails you can paint, and a head big enough for a bow.

Enid watches her quietly. Wednesday plays with her hands, spindles them together. Her lips are thin. She’s nervous. Her eyes are cast down. She anticipates.

“How long did this take…?”

Wednesday, slowly, murmurs, “Two weeks. I had to…help with the odor. You would’ve vomited or kissed the floor otherwise.” A pause, then, “…and broken your…pretty nose. Again.”

“That did hurt, yeah…” Enid breathes. (It’s still sore. She swears she’ll set Wednesday’s side of the room on fire, someday.) She rounds the desk’s corner, and Wednesday is swiftly tucked in her arms. There’s that initial frigid moment before Wednesday unwinds, and her body remembers that, yes, it’s Enid, and Enid has the permission. She nudges her pretty nose along Wednesday’s neck. “Thank-you…” is murmured.

“We’re going to reconsider the name." You’re welcome.

"No we’re not." No we’re not. 

Together, they eye Floof, and Floof…is staring at both the door and window simultaneously. With— 

Aww, her tongue is almost sticking out. What a cute touch, Wednesday… 

"You’re needy.”

“It’s almost a full moon…?”

Wednesday twists her head, and Enid seeks for treasure.

They osculate. And her lips feel like death, but they’re the most liveliest thing, all at once.

Hope you enjoyed! :)