#slim seeing you asleep with lucky laying next to you: what are you doing?

[missqhughes]

pls pls pls do Luke with number 10 from the smut prompt list its not a want it’s a need🙏🙏🙏

OKAY DAMN 😒 just kidding my lovely anons, of course you can ;)

-

luke hated leaving you for roadies, especially when night rolled around.

his favorite thing besides waking up next to you, was falling asleep with you, laying on his chest and playing with his curls until you both relaxed into sleep.

on the other hand, he was just so needy. he missed being able to have your legs hooked over his broad shoulders, watching his hips grind into yours, your pussy swallowing his deep length.

but sadly for luke, he had to sleep alone, the warm light from the lamp illuminating his hotel room as he texted you,

‘gotta go shower, but love you baby goodnight ❤️’

‘goodnight lu, i love you too’

luke sighed, shutting his phone off. he was about to bring himself off the smooth sheets, grabbing a towel that was set on the nightstand, when his phone buzzed,

‘also, i put a few things in your bag before you left, check the inside left pocket ;) text me when you get a chance to look’

he furrowed his brows, wondering why he didn’t immediately see what you had put inside his suitcase. he kneeled over to where it was, rifling through his clothes until he opened the slim pocket you instructed him to.

“oh my god,” he whispered to himself, holding up a few polaroids of yourself that you had snuck into his bag. one where you’re turned around, ass perfectly posed for the camera. another, where you’re grabbing your bare chest. luke was rock hard looking at the last photo of you; a full body photo of you, hand between your legs, playing with your pussy.

he groaned, pursing his lips and longing to be home, fucking you in the same positions that you had so graciously left him photos of.

his dick was strained hard against his pants, so much to the point where it almost hurt. he couldn’t help it when he moved himself and the photos of you onto the bed, unzipping and lowering his clothes just enough, aching length springing out of his boxers.

he stared at the picture of your self pleasure, then grabbing his phone, vigorously typing in his messages with you,

‘i found them.’

luke threw his phone face down on the sheets, going back to the picture of you, pumping his length with his free hand. he closed his eyes with a groan, tip leaking with precum as he moved up and down, bucking his hips slightly at his own touch.

his phone buzzed, he picked it up, not stopping the bobbing of his hand on his length,

‘what? you don’t like them hm?’

he knew you were giving him a hard time. that you knew this is exactly where he would be once he found those pictures of you,

‘aren't you such a tease? I'm jerking off to that picture of you, and it's all your fault.’

he threw his phone down again, the burning image of that picture seeping into his closed eyelids, grinding his hips into his own movement, moaning your name with each rhythm.

his dick pulsated, his breathing heavy as he reached his peak, ribbons coating his own stomach, his abs covered in his warm release.

luke lazily grabbed the towel that he was lucky enough to already have situated next to him, wiping his abdomen clean.

he opened your text for the last time before he actually now had to shower, cheeks still flush thinking about you,

‘i loved them, but you’re so in for it when i get back’

‘:)’

[thir10th]

The getaway pt.3 - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

ALL OF THESE CAN BE READ AS STAND-ALONES

summary: You decide to put the hot tub to good use tw: smut, hot tub sex, fingering, veeery soft Emily, fuffly fluff, breast play? (still don't know how to call this lol) a/n: this one is bit shorter, but it has a good amount of tooth-rooting fluff. Any kind of feedback is GREATLY appreciated!!! Hope you enjoy!

You let out a long, deep sigh as you relax into the warm bubbling water. Watching as steam swirls up and away from the hot tub into the cold air of the room, the dusky sky prickles with the first sign of stars showing on the darkness starting to set, fully visible through the large windows.

Your eyes close as you feel the light pressure of the constant massager of the walls on the jacuzzi, the sweet scented bubbles surround you, in a matter of seconds you are completely covered by them.

You had somewhat of an odd morning, after putting some assholes in their place, then a lovely shower with your girlfriend.

You shared a delicious meal, which Emily had spent holding your hand over the table for its entirety, she insisted, because who knows when you would have that freedom again? Without having to worry about going to the same restaurant as a colleague.

Just the two of you, table for dos like she had told the waiter, getting a giggle out of you, and your hands tied together over the tablecloth, not bothering to let go, not even to grab your fork.

You had spent a lovely evening at the pool, this time Emily accepted to go for a swim with you, but it ended after she tried to grab your ass under the water for the seventh time, and you suggested it was time to get out, you sat with a book in your hands, watching as Emily fell asleep behind her sunglasses, her own book still in her hand.

Yes, definitely a wonderful day, and as you watched the sun set from your window, Emily suggested you put the hot tub to good use, luckily for you, dinner is served late.

Just as you become lost in your daydream, you awake to the sound of your girlfriend’s steps.

Emily tip-toeing to were you lay, dressed with her robe, and holding two glasses of red wine, handing you one, you nod in acceptance "thank you" you mutter, and take a sip, leaving it next to you.

She gets to the tub and removes her robe, revealing a crimson red bikini covering very little of her body.

Not that you were complaining of course. Had she even packed something that actually covered anything?

You eye her up, her tender smile warms up your heart. "This is cute" you say, tugging your finger on the string of her bikini bottoms. She scoffs, taking a sip of her wine "You are cute yourself, baby" she says, making you slightly blush.

Her slim, toned legs dip into the warm water one at a time and she lowers her body in with a gasp, "Oooh, that's warm!", she laughs, wading over to sit next to you.

"I see you found the wine" you say reaching behind you to get your glass.

"You know i always do" she added wryly, rising her glass "to us" she smiles.

"to us" you repeat, clinking your glasses together before taking a satisfying swig of the liquid, the bubble dancing on your tongue.

You thoughtfully watch as Emily takes a few sips from her glass before setting it aside and resting back into the warm water.

"I feel so lucky"  she muses, smiling fondly at you. Her tone becoming mellow, almost melancholy.

"What do you mean?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Us... this..." she says, scooching closer to you, gesturing with her hand to make you look around the room, "You know we were this close to not make it" she adds, referring to how your relationship had taken a little long to start.

"yeah, i know..." you grab her hand to hold it, caressing her palm with your thumb.

"Sometimes I wonder what would've happened, you know, if things had been different, if our paths had never crossed" she utters.

"I would've found you, maybe at a bar, too afraid to approach you, and then maybe thought about getting you a drink" you start wondering, Emily seems to enjoy your daydream, and joins in.

"Or maybe, I would've been the one who eyed you at a bar, and thought about you for months before calling my Interpol contact to find you" a malicious smile crossing her face.

"Emily Prentiss you cannot use your Interpol contact just to find a girl you met at a bar!" you reprimand her, she giggles at your reaction.

"I can if the girl was you!" she says still laughing, which makes you laugh too. "mh- good answer" you approve, and she tilts her head to give you a chaste kiss, you smiling against her lips.

"Ok, and what if we hadn't fallen in love?" she asks, wanting to continue with the 'what if' game.

"I don't think there's any universe in which i wouldn't fall in love with you, Em" you declare, but she pushes through.

"Ok, ok, fair enough, then when was it?" she says, changing the question now.

"when was what?" you ask, taking another sip from your wine.

"when did you realize you were falling for me?" her thumb caressing the back of your hand reassuringly.

The question takes you by surprise, you know it isn't so common for Emily to open up like this, however, since you had started dating, you had lost count of the times she had opened up to you like this.

It was during the late nights, until one of you drifts off, the random questions she'd blurt out when she couldn't fall asleep.

That one time when you asked 'Em, would you still love me if i was a worm?' and then her response 'Babe if you were a worm i'd build you a little house next to my bed so you could sleep next to me, i'd keep you in my pocket all the time to kiss you, and carry you around with me' and the way it had made you smile.

Still, you treasure this moments and the way she tells you she loves you every day, how she insists to hold your hand, to kiss your face whenever she can.

"well, i don't think i can put a finger on it, it just happened" you rely on the sensation of the warm water bubbles around you, Emily takes another sip of her wine, you observe her lips as she does and you feel the need to elaborate some more.

"i guess, i felt something completely new when i shook your hand" you play with her fingers, rolling yours between hers where your hands are still interlocked.

"then i realized how nervous it made me to look at you, and to speak to you" you continue, her hand caress yours, massaging your fingers.

"how dare you! Nervous my ass, you flirted with me all.the.time! I was the one who melted everytime you came to my vicinity!" she blurts out, acting offended. Her laugh is contagious, making you giggle, realizing there's a degree of truth in what she says.

"Ok, ok, you're right, but i did get butterflies every time, that's true" you defend yourself. You both laugh, stealing a couple of kisses here and there.

"and what about you?" you ask, pulling away from her to take another sip of your glass, she does the same "when did you know?" you repeat the question.

She makes a pause, leaving her glass again, then looks down as if trying to find the words, and then looks up at you.

"Well, I could tell you it was the first time I saw you, and it would be true, but you wouldn't believe me, and you would say it's superficial" she starts, you chuckle, but nod on agreement.

"there's just no way you fell in love with me when we first met, we barely spoke" you refuse.

"see? i told you you wouldn't believe me, so i chose another moment" she says, taking a pause, and then her eyes meet yours, her gaze always soft and fervent, you notice how her pupils expand, the alcohol and the setting probably contributing, but mostly you can tell it's the conversation that's got her so soft.

"On my first week, I was still new to everyone, and then… you went by and, you were talking to JJ about,… I don't remember what it was exactly, i think something about Rossi's last wife, and then you came by to me, with JJ behind you, and you... sat in my desk" she smiles baring her teeth, biting her tongue, her signature face when she is kind of embarrassed to say something, a soft pink shade blushing her cheeks.

"And that's when you knew you had fallen in love with me?" you ask in disbelief.

"yes! I mean, it was the gesture! You directed the focus to me, brought the conversation to my desk so i could feel included, it was such a sweet moment, and it was so natural for you. So i looked up at you, and you smiled at me, and i... just knew. 'I'm gonna sleep with this woman’ ” her playfullness making you chuckle.

"Em! Don't ruin it!" you say, hitting her arm playfully.

"I'm serious!" her voice soft and sincere now, you feel a warmth spread through your chest "I was trying to make you feel welcome," a nostalgic smile curving your lips.

"but i guess i was the one who ended being captivated" you finish, Emily laughs lightly, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"You did more than captivate me. You made me feel seen. You still do, every day." She leans in, pressing her lips gently to yours, the kiss filled with love and promise.

You hold her close, savoring the moment, the taste of wine on her lips, and the warmth of the water enveloping you both.

"I love you" you murmur against her mouth, feeling a rush of gratitude for this incredible woman beside you.

"mh- I love you too" she replies, her fingers tracing a path up your arm, her palm reaching to rest your faace.

The heat grows between you, you trap her lower lip between yours, tugging and biting a bit too hard with your teeth, the way you know she likes it, it grows a life of its own.

"That's enough wine" she says, pulling away from you, and taking your glass from your hand along with hers, leaving them both out.

The heat spreads through your body just by looking at her, her soft, muscular back visible when she turns to leave the glasses. You stand up from your spot.

She turns back around. her eyes meet yours at first but leave fast to look down at your figure, her mouth opened in shock, it takes her a second for her astonishment to turn into a devious smile.

"You forgot your suit" she says, her eyes still running up and down your naked figure.

"I know" you say with a smiliar smile to hers curving your mouth, biting your lip.

Her hands hold yours, and she pulls you to make you straddle her, you place one leg on each side of her. Her hands hold your thighs, her fingers tightening up on your soft flesh, her breath warm against your neck.

Emily feels a deep throbbing between her legs as you start to grind on her lap. She pulls your hips towards her, kissing your hungrily.

She let a hand drop between her legs to tease your entrance, letting out a gasp of pleasure.

"Oh Em", you breath heavily, making a poor attempt to restrain yourself. You roll your hips forward, searching for friction from Emily's hand.

You push your fingers inside her panties and stroke at Emily's bud, "You always make me feel like so good", she whispers, trying to reach for the curve of her neck to kiss it, you laugh breathily.

"Oh gods, me too!", you sigh blissfully, rubbing yourself up and down on Emily's hand. "Don't ever stop", she adds.

You both come together, your tongues dancing into each other's mouth as you kissed each other deeply, desperate to get closer and closer. 

As the kiss deepens, you pull away for a moment to slide Emily's bikini bottoms down her legs, not giving her a second before pulling her back onto your lap.

You run your fingers back and forth through over her sensitive clit, watching in awe as she closes her eyes in ecstasy, her head tilted up.

You alternate between circling her bud and running your fingers back to her entrance before pushing two fingers inside of her.

Emily groans out loud, holding tightly onto your shoulders as she accustoms to the feeling, letting her hips lower onto your hand.

She slowly rolled her hips back and forth on your lap, hitching her breath in pleasure as your fingers graze that sweet spot inside of her.

Whilst you hold your hand in place for her to pish onto, you use the other hand to pull her top down, taking her breast into her mouth, gently grazing with her teeth and swirl yourr tongue around Emily's hardening nipple.

She whimpers and pushes harder onto your hand, her pace quickening. "Baby, that feels so good", she sighs, bucking her hips onto you.

"Tell me what you need.." you mutter.

"Mmmm ..", she groans "Harder, darling. A bit harder".

Her wish is your command, you pick up your pace, pushing up firmly into her.

"Mm-hmm", Emily nods, her face flushed with the heat of the water, her breasts pushed up against you.

She kisses you deeply one more time, you use your thumb to brush speedily over her clit, Emily's thrusts becoming irratic and desperate.

Emily squeezes hard at your thighs with her own, pulsing waves of pleasure jolting through her, as her climax burned through her body.

She breathlessly comes to rest in your lap, blissful and calm.

You rub her back as she slump forward, recovering her breaths.

"Oh baby, that was lovely", you chuckled, as she lifts herself upright to kiss you.

"I'm glad" you say, another breathless lough scapes through your lips, resting your head over her shoulder and closing your eyes, resting in the moment.

"I will get my turn, though" she threatens.

"Oh, I'll be waiting for it" you say, now you both look at each other, starring into you, the softness of her gaze lingers onto your eyes, as she brushes her soft fingers through your hair, pushing it away from your face.

"Oh, it's coming" her fingertips caress your face, "so be ready" she purrs, another soft chuckle escaping your lips.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Sorry for the wait! I know this one is way shorter than the past two, but i wanted to do something sweeter and i already have ideas for the next one's that i wanted to get to asap.

I hope you like it! Feedback is greatly appreciated, like and reblog if you like this and you want me to write more! <33

[automeris-io-moth]

White winter and red bed sheets. 

Droplets of blood stained the white snow.

Hero held tight to her side, aiming only to keep breathing. 

In.

Out.

In. 

She was going to die, she was going to die right in the middle of the downtown plaza.

Everyone was already cold, for the weather was hostile and the holidays were quickly approaching, preparations were to be made, decorations were to be hung and all those people who frequented the surroundings from the colleges and the clubs had already gone home. 

Someone would find her the next day, she thought, hoped at least, in the inauguration of the winter festivities of the state. Quite a sight to start with, she laughed at herself, feeling the sting it brought to her ribs. 

At least her parents would know what happened to her. 

So, Hero let her head fall to the snow, hands brought up close to her chest, the cold was starting to numb her limbs, perhaps soon it would numb the pain as well. 

She fell asleep, though unconscious was a better term, she reasoned when her sight grew blurry.

Music was certainly an unexpected thing to wake up to, the scent of cinnamon in the air and the softness she laid over just as much. 

Waking up was in itself very much unexpected. 

Perhaps, she thought, it was the moment where she opened her eyes and her grandpa would be there to greet her, perhaps she had done well enough in life to deserve such a gift. 

And Hero wandered on that thought for a moment.

 A warm hand rested on her forehead. And those fingers were slim, they were graceful and surely not as wrinkled and calluses as her grandfather's. So Hero opened her eyes. 

"Good morning, pretty thing."

Villain. 

Hero tried to sit, movements hurried, and head spinning. Villain placed a hand on her shoulder, pushing her slowly back to lay against the pillow.  

"No, love, you need to stay down," said Villain in response. "you're lucky you're alive, we're trying to keep it that way."  

Villain spoke as if underwater, slurry, muted, Hero could barely discern some of the words she made. 

She asked for the other to repeat herself. Villain chuckled. 

"I can't understand a thing you're saying, love," Villain said "maybe it's better if you go back to sleep."

Tears gathered in Hero’s eyes, she could barely see what was before, though the shape of the shadow, the voice and the touch gave it away immediately, less even could she articulate what she wished to say to such a person, wished to ask, to beg if it came to be. 

A few aborted tries later, leaving Villain to ask once and again what was wrong, if something hurt even though all the pain killers, if she needed, wanted something else before taking her own leave. 

Hero cleared her throat as well as she could, and spoke. 

“Don’t…don’t do it,” she said, asked, prayed to the other, grabbing the hand that rested on her cheek. 

Villain’s eyes softened at the request, she grabbed back Hero’s hand, holding it between two hands, close to her.

“I warned you what would happen if they ever returned you to me like this again.” 

Hero shook her head slowly, trying not to make herself vomit, and held tighter. 

“What can I do?” came broken, slurry from Hero. 

Villain kissed her hand “To prevent it? Nothing, love. But you can lay back and rest, you’re way too high in painkillers to do anything else, if you do as I say and are good to the people taking care of you, I’ll get you a souvenir.” 

“Please, Villain, please,” Hero begged then, letting go of her hand and grabbing onto her clothes, lifting herself from the bed. 

The other sighed, grabbing onto her firmly, but gently,  mindful enough of her state. 

“Come here, hold on to me.” 

Villain laid down on the bed beside Hero on the bed, letting herself fall against the pillows and feeling Hero lay all her weight on top, keeping her as upright as possible, not letting her fall on her side.

Soft hands drew circles on her back, slowly, travelling from time to time to her hair, to delineate the shape of her brows and the bridge of her nose. No anger nor frustration did Villain allow to slip through her at that moment, Hero did not need that on top of everything else. 

So she was gentle, and she was comprehensive, she was as soft and patient as Hero needed, and eventually, through the exhaustion and the painkillers, Hero did fall asleep, held tight by the other. 

Then was moment, she decided as she locked the door to her room from the outside, she would need a few favours, of course, nothing not worth fulfilling her promise, she was a woman of her word after all, and if she had promised to burn down the capitol the next time they returned Hero to her such as they had, she had to follow up her promise to the city. 

_

Masterist

Happy holidays :)

[bigoltrashpile]

How would the skeleton brothers handle a crush or s/o that has adhd. Tons of energy runs around doing many things and then if they lay on theirs back even for a few seconds on the ground. Passed out asleep fast. I do this often and not many ppl can handle it or my attention moving from topic to topic quickly

Mafiatale Sans: He pretty much raised Papyrus, so he’s used to the whole “lots of energy” thing. However, the first time you fall asleep randomly, he gets a little concerned. That’s not normal, is it? When you assure him that you’re okay, he relaxes. Whenever you fall asleep, he likes to lay next to you and pass out as well. It’s not rare for another skeleton to just see the two of you sleeping in weird places together.

Mafiatale Papyrus: Hes autistic (you can fight me on this) so he has some of the same habits, like lots of energy and feeling the need to do ALL THE THINGS. He’s able to easily keep up with your changing interests and attention, and he likes that you can keep up with him! When you fall asleep, he just smiles and shakes his head. He thinks its adorable, but is concerned you might get stepped on or something. He’ll pick you up bridal style and carry you somewhere more appropriate for naps.

Mafiaswap Sans (Lucky): He tends to fixate on one thing, and work until that thing is done, so your focusing on lots of different things confuses him. Weren’t you just working on that? You’re not done, you’re just going to- oh okay, now you’re doing that, that’s fine. It makes his head spin sometimes, but he really admires your work ethic! He makes sure you get sleep more than just power naps on the floor, and lays next to you sometimes. He thinks you look adorable sleeping, so he’s fine just watching you.

Mafiaswap Papyrus (Slim): Just watching you makes him tired. How do you have so much energy? It’s amazing to him, and he really admires that, even if he doesn’t understand it. He’ll sometimes just force you to take a break, grabbing you and setting you on the ground, laying on top of you. Then he’ll just sit there until you fall asleep. He doesn’t want you to wear yourself out!

Mafiafell Sans (Butch): Honestly thinks it’s super cute. You’re like a hyperactive little bird! He likes just watching you flirt around from task to task, like hes watching a tennis match. Sometimes, when he decides it’s time for you to be done, he just goes “nap time” and grabs you, placing you on your back on the bed or couch. He holds you there until you fall asleep, then he’ll probably take a nap too.

Mafiafell Papyrus (Noir): Finally, someone who can keep up with him! He too has many tasks that need to be done, and yiu understand what that’s like! He honestly loves it about you, and he thinks its adorable when you fall asleep. He might grumble softly about you being lazy like his brother, but that doesn’t stop him from carrying you to bed, being careful not to wake you up.

Mafiaswapfell Sans (Scar): He gets a little concerned sometimes when you suddenly fall asleep. You’re not overworking yourself are you? You need to take periodic breaks and not strain yourself! He makes sure that you take regular breaks that aren’t just falling asleep anywhere you lay down. He admires your work ethic though, even if he doesn’t understand, and loves your energy!

Mafiaswapfell Papyrus (Hound): Like Slim, he gets tired watching you. Jeez, darling ’, you sure you’re okay? He does like to watch you, and finds it really funny when you pass out in random places. He’ll probably pull dumb, childish pranks, like putting whipped cream in your hand and then tickling your face. Jokes aside, he really likes how energetic you can be, and he always has a nap buddy!

[lockefanfic]

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“I was told there would be dicks here.”

You are a little surprised by the straightforwardness of Nayeon’s statement, but given that the only other occupant of the room was fast asleep on her lap, you supposed she didn’t really need to watch what she was saying.

“You said you’d invite plenty of guys to this party for me. But not one of them was worth fucking,” she continues.

“That’s because your standards are too damn high,” Jeongyeon says as she re-enters the living room after seeing the last of the party’s guests off at the door. She offers you a warm smile and a peck on the lips before cuddling next to you on the couch, draping her arms around your waist and laying her head on your chest below your chin.

“My darling wife is right,” you agree, “it’s not my fault that you only want to fuck actors and k-pop idols.”

Nayeon lets out a snort of disapproval from the loveseat. She puts an exaggerated pout on her lips as she begins to idly stroke Sana’s hair. The Japanese girl had had one drink too many, it seemed, and had fallen into a deep slumber, snoring softly on her friend’s lap.

“It’s 3am,” she observes, “I ought to have a dick in me right now.”

“Jesus you’re thirsty as fuck,” Jeongyeon quips.

“Girls have needs,” Nayeon explains. “I was really hoping to bag one tonight, but alas, here I am without a dick in sight.”

“Well there’s at least one dick around,” you say with a smile, almost on reaction, the words leaving your mouth before you had time to think them through . The smile quickly fades when you realize just what you’d implied.

The awkward silence that follows in reality probably only lasted a few seconds, but to your mind, which was running at a million miles a second trying to figure out whether you’d upset your wife or disgusted Nayeon or both, it seemed to last forever.

Jeongyeon stirs on your chest. While you can’t see her face directly, you can tell she is making eye contact with Nayeon.

You’d known Nayeon for almost as long as you’d known Jeongyeon, and being your wife’s best friend you’d obviously gotten to know her quite well over the years. But you’d never seen that particular look on her face, and you weren’t sure what to make of the slight cock of her eyebrow and the slimmest of smiles that had appeared on her lips. Was it surprise? Incredulous disgust? Or was it...

The silence continues, and afraid you’d upset your wife, you decide to break it.

“Uhh, it was just a joke-”

“Shhh,” Jeongyeon says, interrupting your rushed apology as she raises her head from your chest. You were well aware of her trademark death glare, and you steeled yourself to receive another one.

Instead there is a sly smile on her lips. Without saying a word, she turns to Nayeon and gives her the slightest of nods.

With the gentlest of care, Nayeon rises from the loveseat, taking care not to wake Sana from her deep slumber. She cradles the girl’s head with both hands before sliding out from under her and slipping a pillow beneath it. She takes a few steps towards you until she is standing just in front of your knees.

Jeongyeon rises from the couch next to you and steps behind her best friend. Her hands begin to trace a lazy path up Nayeon’s arms, until they reach the back of her neck and the zipper on her glitzy silver dress. Nayeon’s eyes, fixed on yours, become half-lidded with anticipation at the faint sound of a zipper being undone. There was lust in those eyes, and more than a little need - it filled her soft brown orbs, only barely restrained, only barely keeping from spilling over.

When the zipper reaches the end of its path, leaving her dress loose and sagging on her shoulders, Nayeon lets out the barest, slightest gasp.

Your wife looks over her shoulder and steals your gaze from her friend. There is a devilish grin on her lips, one that widens when she reaches up to slowly push the dress over Nayeon’s shoulders, causing it to fall down her thin torso and down to the floor in a pool of shiny silver.

As transfixing as Jeongyeon’s eyes were, your thirsty eyes couldn’t help but drink in the sight of Nayeon’s near naked body. You’d always admired her hot, tight frame from afar, but now, clad only in a lacy black bra and a matching, tiny black thong, you found yourself salivating.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Jeongyeon asks, aloof and haughty, her tone like that of someone admiring an expensive car. “Perfect little face, perfect little tits, perfect little ass.”

You swallow the quickly gathering pool of drool in your mouth. This evening had taken quite a turn.

 “...Definitely,” you stammer.

“You know, baby, she asked me once if I were ever willing to share you with her. I brushed it off at the time and told her I would, but only if I’m in charge… and lucky for her, tonight I’m feeling generous,” your wife says from over Nayeon’s trembling shoulder. “Isn’t that what friends are for, Nayeon?”

“Y-yes,” the girl answers, a faint quiver in her voice. Nayeon had always been proud and confident, but she seemed to have become quite submissive in Jeongyeon’s arms - whether this was an agreed upon act or whether she was genuinely submissive during sex you didn’t know, but you were dying to find out.

“She always got all the guys, any one she wanted. She could turn any boy she wanted into an obedient little fucktoy,” Jeongyeon says, wistfully, as though she were reminiscing about days gone by, “all of them except one.”

Nayeon lets out a small whimper, as though Jeongyeon were accusing her of something. Over her shoulder, your wife locks eyes with you as she whispers into Nayeon’s ear, loud enough for you to hear.

“Lucky for you, Nayeon,” she hisses, “I like to share.”

Nayeon’s thin frame shivers at the word share, as though she’d been waiting for that word for years. Had she? Your attention had always been fixed on your wife, of course, but every now and then you’d catch her friend giving you loaded glances, or watching you with a certain look in her eyes…

“Perfect little face, perfect little tits, perfect little ass...” Jeongyeon repeats - removing her friend’s bra and thong as she does so, leaving Nayeon naked, rubbing her legs together, seeking some sort of release for the lustful anticipation that was building in her body. She trembles under your lustful gaze, her perfect skin flushing pink.

Jeongyeon’s right hand snakes around to Nayeon’s naked, shaved crotch, and while you can’t see it, by the dip in her knuckles and the flush of pink on the older girl’s cheeks you can tell your wife has slipped a finger inside.

“...perfect little pussy,” she finishes.

Speechless, all you can do is gulp. For a long, beautiful minute, you watch as your wife finger fucks her best friend in front of you, her hand sliding in and out of the slick flesh between her thighs. Nayeon becomes a quivering, trembling mess, held up only by Jeongyeon’s arms around her torso. She reaches for Jeongyeon’s free hand and places it over her own breast, squeezing it tightly. Eventually Jeongyeon captures a stiff nipple with her index finger and thumb before giving it a sharp pinch, eliciting a long, throaty moan from the older girl.

“You know baby, it’s not very fair that Nayeon here is buck naked and you’re still fully clothed. Why don’t you show her what she’s going to have inside her?”

Your fingers move of their own volition to undo the belt and zipper of your pants before pulling them down your hips with an enthusiasm and speed you weren’t expecting. Your cock, easily brought to full stiffness by the show taking place in front of you, springs free from its cotton prison.

Nayeon gasps sharply at the sight of your cock. Over her shoulder, Jeongyeon’s devilish smile grows wider as the two most important people in her world continue to dance obediently to the tune she has begun to sing.

Your wife steps out from behind her naked friend to sit on your right side on the couch; Nayeon lets out a disappointed sigh as her friend’s fingers leave her body. You let out a grunt of pleasure as her hand reaches out to your cock and she begins to pump it up and down. Nayeon’s juices on her fingers provide wonderful lubrication for her work, making your cock glisten and causing the first delicious spikes of pleasure to shoot up your spine.

“This is such a nice cock, isn’t it Nayeon? So big and thick and hard. I love the way it fills me…”

“Mmmm,” Nayeon gasps, a needy expression on her small, cute little features. Her left hand begins to wander towards her crotch, her slim thighs rubbing against one another, seeking some sort of outlet for her growing need. Soon she is fingering herself, her thin fingers pumping in and out of her dripping heat, her pace increasing with each of the sultry words leaving Jeongyeon’s mouth.

“I love the way it stretches me out, makes me feel so full…”

“Oh, oh god, Jeongyeon.”

“I love the way it pounds my pussy every single night, so hard and fast, whenever he wants…”

“Mmm, Jeongyeon, please…”

“But do you know what I love the most, Nayeon?”

“Mmmm-?”

You turn your head just enough to witness the look Jeongyeon gives her naked friend.

“...the way he fills me with cum. So hot, so thick, so warm - and all for me.”

Nayeon moans - and the fingers inside her begin to pump faster and faster until, just a few seconds later, she orgasms. She becomes a quivering, trembling mess on shaky legs before they finally give out beneath her and she falls to her knees.

All the while, even as you both watch Nayeon become a puddle of boneless flesh in front of you, Jeongyeon is pumping your cock with a tight fist around your shaft. She stops suddenly, and you lament the abrupt end to the pleasure for only a moment before she brings her mouth to your ear.

“Fuck her.”

You turn your head to face her and crush her lips in a kiss that is equal parts passion and thankfulness.

But as giving as Jeongyeon is, she isn’t one to deny herself the chance for pleasure, either. As you leave the couch and drop to your knees behind Nayeon, she slips her black shorts from her own hips, taking her panties along with them. As Nayeon recovers from her post-orgasm haze to find you readying yourself to take her from behind, Jeongyeon reaches down and grasps her friend by the side of her head, steering her face between her own spread legs.

As you enter Nayeon’s pussy from behind, it pushes the older Korean girl’s face forward - and into Jeongyeon’s wet, dripping pussy. All three of you gasp. All three of you moan.

Nayeon is almost better than you expected her to be - tight, hot, dripping, smothering your stiff cock with slick heat. Each thrust into her body sends shocks of pleasure up and down your spine. You find yourself grunting and grimacing with each thrust, trying your best not to cum too soon, trying to savor every second you were inside the mewling, quivering young woman’s pussy.

Each thrust elicits a throaty gasp from Nayeon, one that is smothered by the warm flesh of Jeongyeon’s thighs. You cannot see exactly what she is doing, but the moans and sighs that leave Jeongyeon’s throat are evidence of the magic she is working between your wife’s legs. 

Your hands roam, eager to explore Nayeon’s tight, perfect little body, even as it is rocked back and forth by each impact of your hips against her round ass. You’d always admired her body beneath the tight, short dresses and low-cut tops she liked to wear, but to see her now, bent over and naked as you take her roughly on your living room floor while her face is buried in your wife’s pussy - it was almost surreal. 

Your hands wander her naked back, enjoying the moist feel of the sweat dripping down her spine. You settle for gripping her right shoulder with your right hand, pulling her back as you slam forward into her body, while your left hand squeezes a soft, round ass cheek, pulling the flesh apart to reveal the dripping lips of her pussy as your cock penetrates it over and over again.

You reach down with your left thumb, and you begin to tease the pursed, tight ring of her ass.

Jeongyeon sees this - has been on the receiving end of it more times than she could count, most of the time on her demand - and encourages you.

“Do it, baby,” she says, the words light and airy with pleasure, “stick your thumb in her tight little ass.”

You weren’t one to disobey your wife’s orders. When your thumb presses against her ass and penetrates it to the first knuckle, Nayeon lets out a deep, wordless moan of pleasure at the new sensation - one that sends delicious vibrations from her throat and directly onto Jeongyeon’s pussy. All the while you haven’t stopped fucking her with your cock - now your thumb joins in, pumping in and out of her ass slowly as you penetrate both of her holes. It seems to reinvigorate her, and she returns to her work between Jeongyeon’s thighs with new energy.

“Oh, oh fuck, baby, she’s eating me so good,” Jeongyeon gasps, “Oh, fuck--”

Jeongyeon lets out part of a shriek before her orgasm cuts it off and it turns into a passionate moan. The entire process - stripping Nayeon, fingering her, teasing the both of you - had already brought her close to cumming even before Nayeon had started eating her out. Between her legs, Nayeon is relentless, her head bobbing up and down as she continues to feast on her friend’s moist, slick flesh even as she quivers and trembles beneath her mouth. She eats Jeongyeon out through the entirety of her orgasm, her tongue swiping her friend’s clit with wide, strong licks, each one eliciting a strangled cry of pleasure from your wife.

The sight of Jeongyeon cumming so hard on the couch only heightened the pleasure coursing through your own veins. You’d seen her cum plenty of times before, but to see her cum now, with her legs spread and another woman’s head between her thighs - it was so very hot, so intensely erotic.

You thrust harder and deeper into Nayeon, fucking her hard and harshly now, the deep moans that she releases at your quickened pace only encouraging you to keep going. The loud slap of flesh on flesh echoing throughout the room increases in frequency as you hammer in and out of her slick pussy as fast as you are able.

“Mmmmmffmmfm,” she moans with her mouth and lips full of Jeongyeon’s pussy, “Mmmmfffm!”

“Do it, baby,” Jeongyeon moans weakly, “fucking cum in her pussy. Fill her perfect little pussy up with cum!”

“Mmmffm- please,” Nayeon says, lifting her head from Jeongyeon’s crotch enough to finally form coherent words, “Please, please, oh please fuck cum inside me, oh I need it so bad I need it so bad oh fuck fill me, fill my pussy, oh!---”

The tumble of filth leaving Nayeon’s mouth is cut short as the feel of your cum spurting deep inside her body causes her vocal cords to give out and an orgasm to course through her veins. With a hand firm on her shoulder and the other still clenched around her ass cheek you bury yourself as deep as you can inside her body as you cum, filling the mewling, quivering young woman’s pussy with rope after rope of thick, hot white semen. Nayeon moans with each stream of hot cum that fills her body, each one a deep, throaty sound of satisfied need.

The three of you, having reached orgasm within moments of each other, let out deep, wordless moans of pleasure as the sensations finally overwhelm your respective minds.

When your senses return you realize you have slumped over Nayeon’s body, your chest pinning her against the edge of the couch between Jeongyeon’s still-spread legs, her face pressed against your wife’s stomach. The first sound you are aware of is Jeongyeon giggling.

Soon Nayeon is giggling as well, and before you know it you are letting a small chuckle escape your own lips as the reality of what you had just done finally settles in.

You feel a sudden need to kiss Jeongyeon, and it takes some effort, but after you lean towards her she meets you halfway and your lips meet in a short but passionate kiss. Nayeon, sandwiched between you, pushes her own face between yours, and you find yourself kissing her as well, your tongues exploring each others’ for the first time. Jeongyeon, never wanting to feel left out, soon pulls Nayeon’s face from yours by her chin before capturing her best friend’s lips in a sultry, heated kiss.

The three of you are content to enjoy the moment, your sated, sweaty bodies pressed against one another, enjoying the feel of naked flesh and the taste of wet, hot tongues. With the immediate lusts satisfied for now, the three of you ease into a slower pace, savoring each moment, relishing in the new sensations and feelings between you.

Content to watch Nayeon and Jeongyeon begin to engage in a fierce makeout session, your hands wander, enjoying the weight of Nayeon’s round breasts in your palms. Her messy, cum-drenched pussy pulsates and quivers around your half-softened cock when you pinch her stiff, sensitive nipples, causing your shaft to stir inside her. You feel her pussy begin to drip your combined juices onto the carpet. 

Soon Jeongyeon’s shiny silver top joins Nayeon’s dress on the floor as the older girl pulls it up and over your wife’s arms. Her bra and your own t-shirt follow soon after, leaving the three of you fully naked for the first time. Nayeon quickly bends her head to suckle from Jeongyeon’s small, round breasts, her lips closing tight around a stiff nipple.

The passions soon reignite in your bodies. You feel your cock begin to harden once more inside Nayeon’s creamy, sloppy pussy, and with your hands on her hips, you slowly begin to rock back and forth inside her body, relishing the first spikes of pleasure that shoot up your spine. Her pussy begins to tighten and squeeze you, and Nayeon turns her head from Jeongyeon’s saliva-drenched breast to give you a needy look with half-lidded eyes, as though urging you to keep going..

The prospect of a second round is interrupted by Sana, who has finally arisen from her deep sleep. At the sound of her rising from the loveseat, the three of you turn to see that she has risen to a seating position, a look of shock on her face.

“Why the fuck did you get started without me!?”

---

Author’s Note: Whew.

Rushed this one a bit since I wrote it in a 2yeon inspired boner fueled haze haha, and couldn’t wait until the 2yeon chapter of BT I have planned which will probably be a couple of months away. Apologies if it’s messy and not up to usual standards but I just needed to sate my 2yeon urges for now. Hope you all like it :)

...now the idea of a second round with creampied Nayeon is in my head ...

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Everything, Everywhere | The Mikaelson Boys

Hello Lovelies! I circled back to my element and wrote a more traditional Mikaelson Boys fic. Did I reuse the theme of a ball? Yes, I am a weak and lazy woman. Did I make the fic completely implausible and touchy? You know I did, they’re vampires and I will let them touch whoever they want (with consent of course). Anyway, it’s honestly just a cute, kinda steamy romance. I altered some of the points from the universe but you have to squint to see where. You know, my entire gambit. You could use this as a prologue for my other fic, Big Decisions, but this is more than fine as a standalone. Anyways, I hope you are all doing well and that this story brings you joy! Until next time <3 

Description: Y/n is part of a founding family and gets invited to a Mikaelson ball. Somehow she manages to enamour three of the brothers. They soon discover she has a few secrets that they’re more than willing to indulge.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x The Mikaelson Boys

Warnings: Kudos to me I think there are none

Word count: 10k (oops)

Tags: Fluff, smut if you squint (more like nudity)

“Are you heading home this weekend?” Lily twirls a strand of blonde hair between her fingers, “Mama told me there’s an event.”

Your best friend lays on your bed as opposed to her own, her legs dangling over the edge. Her eyes are closed, probably halfway to being asleep. It’s been this way since the two of you left for college three years ago, always more in your space than her own. You’re lucky that way, you have a best friend who would follow you across the country if you wanted her to. Honestly, you would do the same. Luckily, though, you decided on only two hours away away from home. Just far enough to find your footing. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. 

You smile softly at her, swiveling in your chair, “what event? My parents haven’t said anything to me.”

Your family is a founding family, just like Lily’s is. That’s how the two of you became best friends, it was practically destined. You were babies at the same time and your parents brought you to every meeting together. You were inseparable long before you can remember.

Lilly yawns, curling her legs to her chest, “I think it’s some sort of ball. I’m not too sure, I think we got invitations,” Lily rolls her eyes as if the concept of a hand written letter offends her very being, “and they probably just forgot or assumed I would tell you. Isn’t your mom, like, the head of the committee now?”

You nod at her, closing your own eyes for a second, “yeah she’s always got something going on. I swear she forgets she even has a daughter half the time.” You let your mind drift to the other half of the conversation, “Invitations? That’s exciting.”

You don’t have to look at her to know that she’s rolling her eyes again. You crack an eye open anyway just in time to glimpse her do that very thing. You giggle lightly, shaking your head. 

Always one for theatrics, “careful, Lil, your tomboy is showing. What would your mother think if she could see you up in arms over a silly, little note, hmm?”

She scowls at you before letting the grin crack through, flipping her middle finger up at you and mouthing bite me. 

You lean your head back against your chair, “I’m not even sure if mama wants me to come. She hasn’t said anything about this to me. She called me yesterday and it didn’t come up once. Maybe I should just stay here.”

“Not true,” Lily curls her fingers at you, beckoning you to join her on the bed, “she’s just busy these days. Remember how she was when we were little?”

You move to the bed, curling next to your best friend, “you mean how she was always around? She went from helicopter parent to too busy to text me back.”

You yawn, closing your eyes and letting the lullaby of sleep on your limbs sing a little louder. Lily cuddles closer to you, almost gone herself. You wish you could hold onto these moments. These fleeting minutes of comfort in your best friend’s arms. It’ll be gone all too soon. You almost don’t want to fall asleep. Laying next to her feels like the calm before the storm and you want to soak up as much of it as you can. Your heavy eyelids, however, have other plans.

“You’re coming. If I have to go then so do you. I’m sure this weekend will be different,” her voice is the last thing you hear before you drift off, “I can feel it.”

                                 *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Sure enough, when you pull into your parent’s driveway after dropping Lily off at her own house, your mother bursts through the door, a wide smile on her face. You let your own smile drown the nerves you’ve been fighting for the last three hours, practically falling out of the car to get to her. She wraps you in a hug, her familiar honeysuckle and lilac scent trickling around you.

“I missed you, mama,” you whisper against her shoulder and she squeezes you tighter for a second before letting go.

“Oh honey,” she crinkles her nose at you, her face the picture of serene joy, “what’s to miss? I’m always right here. I, however, missed you so much.” She leads you into the house, her arm around your shoulders tight, “Tell me all about everything!”

You suck in a breath as you enter your house, letting your shoulders sag as you pass over the door frame. You’re home, finally. You glance around quickly at everything you’ve missed for the last few months. You glance at family photos, most of which include Lily, and the random trinkets your parents have collected over the years. There are a few new ones and you make a mental note to look at them later. 

You settle on a stool at the kitchen counter, leaning your head in your hand, “you first, mama. What’s this about a ball? And an invitation, hmm? You’ve been holding out on me.”

Her eyes widen, telling you everything you need to know. She forgot. You really aren’t that surprised. It makes you feel better, at least the reason she didn’t tell you wasn’t because she didn’t want you to attend. Lily was right, you’ll have to let her say I told you so when you see her next.

“Oh shoot,” she snaps her fingers, rushing to the foyer, her voice floating to you as she turns the corner, “I’m so sorry honey, it completely slipped my mind. I barely had a chance to glance at my own invitation,” she comes back into view, now with two envelopes in her hand, “here you go!”

She hands you the envelope and you almost gasp at how luxurious the paper feels in your fingers. The cardstock is definitely of the more expensive selection and you blanche. Who on earth could be sending this? You read your name on the card drawn in an elegant script. Handwritten. You had been joking with Lily when you thought that but now, looking at it first hand, it almost offends you as well. You could never write like that.

You open it carefully, making sure to not taint the red seal. You’re pretty sure your heart would collapse if that happened. This has to be one of the most beautiful things you have ever touched. You pull the equally luxurious note from the envelope, your eyes dancing over the paper. 

Please join the Mikaelson Family this coming Saturday at seven o’clock for dancing, cocktails, and celebration. 

Your heart stops. This coming Saturday. Saturday. As in today Saturday. You whip your head up to stare at your mother, your mouth falling open. 

“Mama,” this time your eyes widen, “this is tonight!” you hiss, your brows shooting up, “I can’t attend this! There’s no time, it’s two in the afternoon already!”

She rolls her eyes and for a moment you picture Lily and how she would call you dramatic. You can practically hear her voice. Just wear jeans you princess. You scoff at imaginary Lily. You can’t attend a ball in jeans, not that that would stop her at all.

“You can and you should attend,” she places a finger under your chin, drawing your eyes to meet hers, “the Mikaelson’s are new to town and have invited us. It’s only polite that we attend. Besides,” she winks at you and your cheeks flood with heat, “they are quite the handsome bunch. Perhaps you can end this dry spell? Give me some grandbabies?” 

You choke at her words, pulling your face from her fingers with burning skin, “oh my god, mama! I’m almost certain you should not be condoning grandbabies! Besides, I have nothing to wear so I highly doubt I’ll be the one pulled from the crowd. Reproduction rates are looking slim, I am sorry to say!”

She laughs, her eyes crinkling, and you can’t stop yourself from joining her, “alright, alright. No grandbabies. Yet. However, I’m not so sure how you can be so certain when you haven’t even looked at what I picked up for you. I quite think you’re going to change your mind, honey bunch.”

Your laughter stops abruptly as she leaves the room for the second time. You hear her jog up the stairs and your interest is officially peaked. She never jogs. What on earth has she done? You rack your brain, trying to picture what she’s going to show you now. You don’t have much time to sit on your thoughts, however, because soon you can hear her feet on the stairs again, still jogging, now humming a tune you can’t place. 

When she comes back into view, your mouth falls open. In her hands is a gown. No, not just a gown. In her hands is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. It’s a black, sequined number with a full skirt and a slit that looks like it will rest a touch lower than your hip. The straps keeping it on the hanger are thin, almost nonexistent, and the bodice has a deep but modest dip. When she moves it sparkles like a diamond, catching the sun rays pouring in through the kitchen window. She holds it up, letting it flow to its full effect in front of you, and you gasp, your hands flying to your mouth. 

You can feel the tears prickling at the edge of your vision and you silently scold yourself for being so emotional, “mama, where did you get this? It’s too much!”

Her smile falters, minutely, but you still see it and curse silently, “you don’t like it?”

You stand quickly, your eyes wide, “no! That’s not it,” you take the dress from her, afraid it’ll disappear if you don’t touch it, “this must have cost a fortune is all! How can we afford this?”

It’s true, the dress looks like a million bucks and probably costs as much. You’re a founding family, sure, but that doesn’t instantly equate to old money. It doesn’t even mean new money. Your family has never struggled to get by but you also know that something this extravagant would have definitely set your father back a pretty penny. You don’t want your family to waste their hard earned money on something this frivolous, even if it is the most stunning thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

Your mother’s smile returns to its full brilliance and she shakes her head, “it didn’t cost me a thing, honey, don’t worry. Mrs. Jackson down the street owed me a favor and I asked if she had anything particularly pretty laying around. She pulled this from her closet. She also told me to let you know that it’s yours if you would like.”

You hug the dress tiger to your chest, your mouth gaping further, “I can keep this?”

Your mother giggles, bobbing her head up and down quickly. She looks like she’s ready to start jumping. You don’t blame her, you’re half a second away from doing the same thing. You could scream from how ecstatic you are.

“Come, honey,” your mom grabs your hand, dragging you up the stairs with her, “I think it’s high time we start getting ready for tonight, don’t you think? You have some Mikaelson’s to wow!”

                            *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

When seven o’clock rolls around you’re standing outside the biggest mansion you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Its white pillars taunt you, each one large enough to hide your body. Twice. You’re alone, spare the people around you milling in and out of the large doors. Your mother had dropped you in front while her and your father went to park the car. Never before in your life has a house made you feel this small. This alone. You pull your shawl, a sheer black number, around your shoulders and shrink slightly.

A hand lands on your shoulder and you jump, spinning around quickly only to be greeted with Lily, whose face is twisted from the laughter pouring out of her. She clutches her stomach from the force, wrinkling the red satin dress she’s wearing. You take a moment to admire how much it suits her. It’s a little bold for your tastes but she wears it like no one else could. Her hair is twisted on the top of her head, a few curls falling to frame her face. She looks amazing, not that you had any doubts.

You lightly smack her shoulder, finally letting a few giggles loose, “you scared me you idiot!” You turn your eyes back to the mansion, swallowing the lump of nerves growing in your throat, “take a look at this place, will you. It’s huge! Have you ever seen a house this big? What could someone possibly need a house this big for?”

“Yeah it’s something alright,” her eyes drag down the hulking facade before meeting yours once more, a naughty smirk now on her red lips, “and I’m sure the inside is even nicer! Let’s go!”

She grabs your hand, all but dragging you over the threshold. Light pours over you, catching the sequins on your dress and making it sparkle delicately, something that would usually make you squeal however your attention is currently elsewhere. That elsewhere is the dual grand staircase in the center of the room. It’s encased in pillars, the feature leaking in from the exterior of the mansion. It’s bronze railings are strung up with thousands of twinkling lights. The staircase is easily the focal point of the foyer. 

But not because of the lights. 

Lily digs her nails into your hand, pulling you to a screeching halt, “are you seeing what I’m seeing right now?”

Her eyes are glued to the same place that yours are, dragging up and down the staircase with little care to whoever might be watching her little show. You choose a less outright form of gawking, opting to look all around the room while still making little glances at your main focus.

“Yeah, Lil, I think I am,” you gulp, your eyes training on three sinfully gorgeous men, “mama said they were handsome but this,” you let the end of your sentence drop, not having nearly the vocabulary to explain the Mikaelsons.

In total, there are five people on the staircase. Four men and a woman. Each one is gorgeous in their own right. You mull over the woman first. If you thought that you looked nice before you left, that’s pretty much gone now. She’s absolutely stunning. Her blonde hair lays in a sheet over her shoulders, winding almost to her base of her spine. She wears an emerald gown, one fitted to every dip and curve of her body like it was spun by Aphrodite herself. You have to look away, she’s the kind of pretty that makes you feel like you’re not worthy of seeing it.

Your eyes travel to the man next to her and your mouth goes dry. He’s tall. That’s the first thing you notice. If you were next to him he would easily tower over you. Not just because of his height, though. You shift your focus to his arms and the way the sleeves of his tux hug them tightly. You have no doubts this man could rip you in two if he wanted to. He stands at ease, his eyes wandering the faces of those closest to him as he lifts a hand to smooth over his brown hair. At least he doesn’t look to be in the killing mood.

Behind him is a man with blonde hair. Even from across the room it looks softer than silk and your palms itch to run through it. He leans against the railing, a glass of champagne loose in his fingers. His eyes are on the others but he has the appearance of a man who is a thousand miles away. Your heart hurts at the thought but you brush past it. You don’t know him and you’re most likely wrong. Still you give him another brush over, wishing slightly that he would crack even a hint of a smile.

You shake your head, moving to the man at the top of the stairs. He’s alive with something fiery, speaking to the others with animated hands and laughing hard. You can’t hear him over the crowd around you but, gods, you wish you could. It’s probably nothing important but, by the looks of him, he could make anything sound special. He throws his head back laughing, his brown hair flopping wildly. You can’t look at him for long either but not for the same reason you couldn’t look at the woman. No, you can’t look at him because you’re afraid if you look any longer than you’ll be sucked in forever.

When you look at the last man you shiver. It’s not the kind of shiver that makes you feel exhilarated though, it’s the opposite. Your blood runs cold when you look at him and, when his eyes meet yours, you look away instantly. You can feel his eyes burning into your back for a few moments after and you hate it. Unlike the rest of them, this man makes you feel ice cold.

You tug on your best friend’s hand, desperate to get away from the man, “come on, Lil, let’s go find the champagne.” 

Lily’s eyes light up at the thought, instantly taking the lead on this new expedition, “girl you read my mind!” 

You take one last glance towards the staircase as she pulls you into another room, momentarily catching three pairs of brown eyes before scampering around the corner. Your cheeks are hot when you’re finally out of their vicinity. You hadn’t realized how heavy the air around them had been. Now that you can’t see them your bones feel marginally lighter. Something nags at you though, a loss of sorts. You rub a hand over your chest, massaging the ache away.

Lily pushes a cool glass into your hand, lifting her own to her lips. You follow suit, breathing in the sugary scent before letting the sweet bubbles flow down your throat. They pop, soothing your flaming chest.

“Shit,” Lily breathes, “everything about this screams money. The invitations, the house, this damn champagne. What’s next? A pool of synchronised swimmers?” Her eyes wander the room, her fingers tight around the glass, “I’m not used to this Great Gatsby level of wealth. It’s making my head spin a little. This is my parent’s scene, not mine.”

You nod lightly, her words everything you’ve been dying to say. It’s magnificent but you’ve never felt more out of place. Not even the founders day balls are like this. At least Mrs. Lockwood has the good sense to cater to the modesty of the town. Before you can answer, however, a voice joins your conversation.

“My apologies, my brothers like to go overboard when throwing parties. It’s not quite my taste either, a little too stuffy if you ask me.” 

You spin around to the sight of the woman from the stairs and your heart pounds hard in your chest. She’s even more beautiful up close, like a Van Gogh masterpiece. Her voice is accented and smooth, impossibly so. You feel like a peasant in her presence but her smile is light and it helps to soothe your nerves a touch. When you look at Lily, though, her cheeks are beet red and her eyes are wide. 

“Oh my, I am so sorry! I didn’t think anyone would hear me besides,” she nudges you lightly, the smile she’s plastered on her face sheepish, “this one here. It really is gorgeous. Perhaps university has lowered my standards.”

You watch Lily fumble her words and you don’t blame her. This girl seems like she was made to insite insecurity and you mean that in the very best of ways. Despite her slight enthusiasm, though, Lily’s eyes flow over the woman slowly. You can tell she’s interested. By the way her stares are being reciprocated, you would say she isn’t the only one. You smile at that.

The woman laughs, her eyes filled with mirth, “your standards aren’t low, this party is just a nightmare. I’m Rebekah, one of the many Mikaelsons you will surely encounter tonight,” she looks over her shoulder, her eyebrows furrowing slightly, “and it looks as though you’re going to get the immersive experience.”

You, too, look over her shoulder and your heart stops. The three men from the staircase, the ones who didn’t make your blood run cold, walk towards you slowly, stopping here and there to welcome guests. The tall one catches your eye and you freeze, a deer caught in the headlights. He says something to the other men and they join in looking at you. You swallow hard, your insides doing somersaults at the sight of them. A deer caught in three headlights, it would seem. 

You look back at Rebekah, your eyes blown wide from the panic rising in your chest. She isn’t looking at you, her eyes still locked on your best friend. They’re in the middle of a conversation that you haven't been paying attention to. You tune back in just in time to hear Lily ask about the gardens behind the house. You scrunch your nose. What gardens?

“Yes, they’re marvelous,” Rebekah leans towards Lily, a glint in her eyes, “and much less crowded. I could show you around them if you’d like?” 

Oh no. No no no. You can see the gears turning in your best friend’s head and the smile that blossoms on her face. You know what’s about to happen and for a moment time stands still. She’s really going to do it, isn’t she? 

She looks over at you, tossing you and apologetic squint before meeting Rebekah’s wondering eyes, “I would love that! Lead the way.”

You watch in slow motion as your best friend wanders away, once more looking over her shoulder to mouth a quick I’m sorry. You roll your eyes at her, murmuring a silent you owe me. You close your eyes briefly, tipping the remainder of your champagne into your mouth. You set your glass down as the alcohol swirls in your stomach, adding a kind of weightlessness to your movements. You embrace it, your eyes scanning the ornate walls. What the hell are you going to do now?

A breeze swirls around you, a myriad of spices hitting your nose just as a honeyed voice breaks your daze, “this house was built in the seventeenth century. As a matter of fact, those are the same walls. I do apologize, we’re a little slow when it comes to modernization. I know it can be a lot to take in, if you need another moment to confront them I do understand.”

You turn quickly, your cheeks hot to the touch, and you find yourself inches away from one of the men from the staircase. You bite your cheek, you really need to figure out their names. Up close you see that you were right about him, he does indeed tower over you. You have to bend your neck significantly to make comfortable eye contact. You almost wish you hadn't, though, his dark eyes flooding your chest with butterflies.

“I think I’ve had my fill of the walls but thank you for your consideration,” you pull your wrap tighter around you, clutching it like it's the source of magic that is helping you keep your composure, “and for the history lesson. This house is beautiful.”

He smiles widely, an action so doused in beauty that your head spins, “thank you, it was my father’s. I am Elijah, I don’t believe we’ve met before,” his eyes flit across your face and you can feel the blush begin to creep down your chest, “something which I’m beginning to understand is a terrible misfortune on my part.”

Your heart pounds painfully, your throat dry. This man clearly has a deep grasp on words and knows exactly how to use them. You wonder for a moment to what extent. What would he sound like in a more intimate setting? What words would he use when no one else could hear him? 

Your eyes widen, your chest burning at the thought, “I’m y/n. Perhaps you’ve met my mother, Mary-Anne?” you glance around, trying and failing to locate your mother, “She’s around here somewhere, she has a hand in most of the happenings around town so it wouldn’t surprise me if you do know her.”

Elijah’s carmel eyes fill with recognition, “ah, yes, I believe I’ve seen her in town. Never you, though.”

Though he doesn’t ask, the question is clear in his tone. 

“I attend university out of town,” you clutch your chest lightly, your fingers curling around the top of your dress, “I’m actually only home for the weekend. My mother was adamant I attend this evening.”

Elijah tilts his head, his eyes flitting quickly to where your fingers slip down your dress. When he looks back at you his eyes are a touch darker than before. Your heart pounds harder as well and you bite your lip slightly, thankful your mother didn’t make you wear lipstick.

“I see. I suppose that means we must give you a night to remember,” his eyes linger on your mouth for a moment and the heat that was swirling in your chest sinks lower.

“Indeed we shall, brother,” a voice from your left pulls your attention.

You’re greeted with the blonde from earlier, the one who looked like he was on another planet. Standing in front of you now he looks much more aware. His eyes, a touch lighter than Elijah’s, skim down your dress, lingering on the high slit on your hip before meeting yours again. You suck in a breath but there is no oxygen to be found.

“I do hope my brother is giving you a proper welcome,” his eyes flash, a cheeky smile tugging at his lips, “I wouldn’t want you leaving here tonight without a proper taste of the Mikaelson charm.”

The way he says the word taste, the way it rolls of his tongue, is positively sinful. It hits you straight in the stomach, spreading like poison through your already airy body. It anchors you to the ground, to him. You glance at Elijah who’s already watching you like a hawk. You feel naked under his gaze but, for some reason, it isn’t a wholly unwelcome feeling. You actually kind of like it. 

You smile lightly at him before turning back to his brother, “I think he’s doing a marvelous job. His introduction skills, however, need a little bit of a touch up.” You giggle at the glimpse of his furrowed eyebrows from the corner of your eye, “Too much talking about walls for my liking.”

“Ah, there you two are,” a third voice joins your arsenal of men, standing on your right and piercing you with a voice accented enough to make the gods fall to their knees, “hogging all the pretty girls tonight, are we Klaus?”

You meet the eyes of the third man, the one who made laughter look like a gift, and your heart sings. He grins at you, his eyes, much like his brothers’, a warm brown. Having all three of them this close to you is more intense than you could have imagined. They make the room feel smaller. Intimate. You’re not sure if you want to run away screaming or move closer to them. They’re magnetic, you’re just not sure if being pulled in or pushed away.

He takes your hand, an action that sends your heart into overdrive. His eyes light up, as if he can hear every rapid beat of your pulse. You scold yourself inwardly. Don’t be stupid, y/n, that would be impossible. 

“I’m Kol,” he brings your hand to his lips, laying a kiss that renders your knees weak against your knuckles, “it’s a pleasure.”

Your heart thunders at the feeling of his lips against your skin. You feel like a schoolgirl, dizzy from the slightest touch from your playground crush. His lips are warm and soft. Is this how princesses feel? God, you need another drink. 

“So,” Klaus steps towards you, his eyes swirling with something barely contained, “what’s this I heard about us giving you a night to remember?”

Your heart stops on the spot and you almost choke, not missing any of the implications behind his tone, “I have to head back to school tomorrow is all,” you breathe, trying to play off some of the heat swirling under the surface of your skin, “please, don’t let me keep you from the rest of your guests. I’m sure there are quite a few more important people than me here tonight.”

Elijah chuckles, the sound piling on top of the many other ones you’re already holding tight to, “the guest list is merely a formality, it would really be my pleasure to show you around.”

He holds his hand out to you, his eyes warm but challenging. You swallow thickly, a string of indecipherable emotions rushing through your chest, circling your lungs. You know it’s just a gesture so why does it feel like something more? Why does the thought of taking his hand feel like stepping into the rest of your life? You take a breath, squaring your shoulders and slipping your hand into his. Bring it on, destiny.

“Wait just a moment brother,” Kol’s fingers slip around your wrist, dragging down your palm until your fingers are locked together, “stealing her away from me so soon? I’m not sure I can let you do that.”

Elijah and Kol stare at each other, something wild brewing in their increasingly dark eyes. You tense, feeling like the rope in a game of tug of war. This doesn’t feel like a game, though, this feels real. You’re not a rope to be fought over, you get to decide what and who you want. Even if that’s all of them.

You squeeze both of their hands, drawing their attention back to you, “I’m sure this house is big enough for us to all comfortably go for a tour.”

Elijah’s eyes widen, dragging over you once more as if seeing you properly for the first time all night. He, like his brothers, lingers on the most delicate parts of you for just a few moments longer than he should. It’s a hole in his armor, a hint past the gentleman front. You want to leap at it and pull until all that’s left is the darkness swirling beneath his surface.

You glance at Kol who meets your eyes head on, a toothy grin already on his face, “marvelous, darling. What a great idea.”

He begins pulling you, and by default Elijah, out of the room but you halt, feeling a tad off. You look behind you at Klaus and sigh, your heart heavy. He stands tall but you catch his eyes and the way they glance at your hands, both of which are still being occupied. He squeezes his hands into fists, shoving them in his pockets. You tilt your head, pouting slightly at him. 

“Mr. Mikaelson, are you coming? Time is of the essence,” you nod your head toward the foyer, a coy smile on your lips, “we can’t can’t afford to waste any now.”

His face lights up instantly, walking towards you with flames dancing behind his eyes, “time isn’t real, love. Tonight we have as much of it as we want. As much of it as you want.”

You swallow hard. You want it all. 

Kol pulls you towards him, twirling you slowly, making your dress spin around your legs like a ribbon, “where to first, darling? What do you want to see?”

Your hands land on his chest, your cheeks flushed and legs wobbly from the spinning. His other hand goes around your waist, his fingers squeezing gently, his thumb pressing into your side in a way that makes you want to draw his body closer to your own. Your thoughts from before ring through your head. He makes everything sound special. More than that; he makes everything feel special.

“Everything,” you can’t tear your eyes away from his, you don’t want to, “show me everything please.”

He leans down, his forehead inches from your own. You can feel the heat rolling off his body even through his tux. It’s luxurious and mingles with the last dregs of the champagne. When combined with his scent, a nutty blend of cloves and cinnamon, you feel lightheaded. 

“Very well, darling,” his eyes flit to your lips, “everything it is.”

An arm snakes around your waist, pulling you away from whatever mischief is brewing beneath Kol’s honey eyes. He tilts his head at the person who grabbed you, his aura turning from playful to down right frosty. 

You turn away, breaking the hold of one Tyler Lockwood. Your ex. You squint your eyes. If you were a cat, your hackles would be raised. You wouldn’t claw his eyes out but you would be damn close. Memories from your senior year pour through your mind, twisting your gut painfully. You blink them away. Contrary to Klaus, you don’t have time for this.

“Tyler,” your voice courteous but cold, “what is it?”

He doesn’t catch your tone or, if he does, he doesn’t act like it. He reaches towards you again, no doubt to pull you into a hug, but you back away. Unlike with Kol, you don’t want to touch him. You definitely don't want him touching you. That part of your life is over.

“Y/n,” his voice is light, happy, “I didn’t know you were back! Mom didn’t say anything. How have you been?”

The atmosphere around you thickens. You don’t have to look at the Mikaelsons to see that their shoulders are tense. You feel them take a step closer to you, surrounding you with some much needed warmth.

You clench your jaw, forcing a smile on your face, “yes, well, I didn’t know if I was going to be home this weekend or not. University and all, I’m sure you understand. I’m fine, thank you.”

He nods enthusiastically and you grind your teeth slightly, wishing the floor would just swallow you whole. You dart your eyes to the side, briefly skimming Klaus as he rolls his eyes. Lily would be proud. Kol and Elijah don’t look amused either. You’re not sure how you know but you have to get them away from Tyler as fast as possible. The air drops another few degrees and you shiver.

“Oh well, no harm done!” Tyler steps closer to you, “say, how long are you in town? We should grab a bite at the grill.”

You drop your fake smile, your heart stinging slightly, “sorry, Lily and I are heading back tomorrow morning.”

You feel the boys once again tense, as if they don’t like the information you just shared. You don’t have time to think too hard about it though before Tyler closes even more space between you, grabbing your hand. You flinch back, hitting something hard and warm. The smell of pine trees, a whole forest of them, swirls around you as a hand circles your waist.

Tyler scrunches his brows, his smile slightly faltering, “tonight, then? I would really love a chance to talk. Catch up a little.”

You almost laugh. He just isn’t giving up. He can never make it easy for you, can he? The hand on your waist squeezes and you look over your shoulder, your heart stuttering. Elijah is staring at Tyler, something swirling under his irises. Whatever it is looks untamed. Not in the good way, like how he was looking at you earlier. No, whatever he’s feeling right now is dangerous. Time to go. 

“I really can’t, my night has been spoken for. Maybe next time, Tyler,” you turn to Elijah, “Elijah, did you say that you saw my mother looking for me? Would you mind showing me to her?”

Elijah’s eyes sparkle, clearly taking your hint, “indeed, she was right this way.”

He pushes you gently, blocking you from Tyler as he leads you out of the room. You can hear Tyler call out to you but you keep walking. Two other sets of footsteps join you, Kol grabbing your hand and twining your fingers together once more. When you break into the foyer you let the anxiety that had been building drain. That was more exhausting than you would like to admit. 

Elijah leads the four of you silently to a room off to the side of the foyer. He pushes the large mahogany door open, ushering you in before shutting it again. The smell of ink and old pages hits your nose and your mouth drops open at the sight. You’re in the biggest library you’ve ever seen. It’s like something out of The Beauty and The Beast, the ceilings high and the walls lined from top to bottom with shelves upon shelves of books. You break away from the boys, your fingers itching to touch what is no doubt an impressive collection of history. 

You hear a chuckle behind you but you don’t turn, your fingers skimming an older looking manuscript. Upon closer inspection the handwritten inscription on the cover reads Vonya i mir. Your heart stops and you quickly pull it from the shelf throwing all common courtesy out the window. This can’t be what you think it is. You flip it over in your hands, taking care not to crack the spine too much. Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy. 

You whip your head up, meeting three curious glances with wide eyes, “this is War and Peace! Like, the original manuscript. This is,” your heart pounds, your eyes glued to the yellowed pages in your hands, “this is history. I can’t believe I’m holding this.” Your heart stops, “Oh my, I should not be holding this! This belongs in a museum! What am I even doing, holding it like it’s nothing.”

You set it carefully on a desk behind you, looking apologetically back at them. Your cheeks heat rapidly. It’s very much not like you to go into a stranger’s home and start groping their collectables. You pull your lip between your teeth, lowering your head.

A hand gently grabs your chin, “you didn’t mention you’re a classic literature major, love.”

A small smile toys on Klaus’ lips, his thumb skimming over your jaw. Your heart stutters when he says love, warmth spreading through your chest. You reluctantly move your head from his hand, turning to motion at the manuscript.

“That’s because I’m not. I am a history major, with a focus on Russian culture. I’ve read War and Peace more times than I care to admit,” you smile lightly at the book, thinking about the hours you’ve spent pouring over it, “never in Russian, though.”

You glance back at Klaus, your hand flying once more to your bodice. He studies you carefully, his head tilted to the side. 

“And what do you think of it? Do you prefer the war or the peace?” He steps towards you, his words filling the almost nonexistent gap between your body and his.

Your breath catches. He’s close enough to touch and, gods, do you ever want to just reach out and pull him against you. First Elijah, then Kol, now him. You’re really gunning to end that dry spell in one night and three ways aren’t you? Heat creeps up your neck, your ears flaming at the thought.

“You can’t have one without the other,” you glance over his shoulder at Elijah and Kol, both of whom are hanging on to your every word, “war is inevitable but peace,” you look back at Klaus, “peace is fundamental.”

Klaus brushes a strand of hair from your cheekbone, sending shivers racing up your spine, “fundamental to what, love?”

His voice is low, his accent wearing down any reservations that you had at the beginning of the night. Your mother’s voice rings through your ears. Give me some grandbabies. She had clearly been joking but your body clearly has no concept of satire, heat pooling between your legs at the thought of making those babies. You close your eyes, sucking in a deep breath. It does nothing to quench the heat. You’re in the thick of it now and there is no escaping the white hot fire growing inside of you.

You sink your head into his hand, “happiness.”

An arm hooks around your waist, spinning you into a pair of spiced arms. Kol. You crack your eyes open and, sure enough, you’re correct. You shouldn’t have been able to guess that already. You’ve known them for no longer than an hour. This is insane. He lowers his face towards yours and your heart slams against your ribcage, his lips inches from yours. You swallow hard, your hands finding the lapels of his jacket. Instead of kissing you, however, he rubs his nose against yours. Oh. That feels nice. 

“What makes you happy, darling?”

You laugh softly, his question catching you off guard, “I’m not sure, to be honest. I haven’t had many opportunities to find out.”

“Well then, If you could do one thing that you think would make you happy what would you do?” Kol lifts a hand to your face, his thumb, like his brother’s, skimming your jaw. 

You don’t have to think about it, the answer is on your tongue as soon as he asks the question, “I would leave this town,” you glance down, the truth of your statement making you feel all too guilty, “and I’m not sure that I would ever come back.”

His thumb stills and you hold your breath. Perhaps you should have answered with something a little less full on. You haven’t even told Lily that you want to leave and never look back so you honestly have no idea why you just divulged one of your greatest kept secrets to three men you just met. Maybe because it doesn’t matter. Who are they going to tell, right? But no, that doesn’t feel right. You didn’t just tell them because. You had a reason, you just can’t put a name to it.

“I see,” he draws his thumb over your lips, an action that both surprises you and steals the air from your lungs, “and where would you go?”

Again, your answer is effortless, “everywhere, Kol. I would go everywhere.”

Kol smiles, his eyes lighting up with his grin. Your heart skyrockets, fireworks shooting through your chest from the slightest tilt of his perfectly red lips. They look soft; perfectly kissable. If only you had half of his self-assurance. What you wouldn’t give to run the tips of your fingers over his lips. 

His hands draw back down your sides, “what was going on back there? You didn’t seem pleased to be speaking to that,” Kol clicks his tongue distastefully, his accent thickening, “boy. Is he the reason you want to leave?”

You pull back slightly, your hands tightening on his coat. How are you even supposed to answer that? The story is a long one and there are very few enjoyable moments to lighten it. Tyler is not the reason you want to leave but you surely wouldn’t be doing yourself any favors by staying for him either. He’s part of a long past, one you’re not going to tell them about. Not today, anyway.

“It’s a long story,” you gently remove yourself from his hold, “one that I assure you none of you would care to hear. But to answer your question, no. Tyler has nothing to do with me wanting to leave. That’s entirely my own, for better or worse.”

He nods, the understanding clear in his honeyed eyes, “in that case, darling, tell me something else.” He pulls you back to his chest, “Do you like the stars?”

                                 *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

They left the party. Their party. They just up and left the party that they were hosting. You’re shocked. You were shocked when they dragged you out of the mansion and you’re still shocked now, laying on a blanket a few miles away with your mouth hanging open. You hadn’t thought anything of it when Kol asked you about the stars. You thought he was continuing with his little game of twenty one questions. You didn’t think he was serious! Who the hell just leaves the party they’re hosting?

Elijah shuffles his hands through your hair, pulling pins from it left and right and letting the hardwork your mother put into it fall. Yes, indeed you’re laying across the lap of one of the most eligible bachelors you have ever come in contact with, your face pressed against his warm thigh. Your fingers are wrapped around a bottle of the sweet champagne from earlier.

“You know,” you murmur quietly, your eyes locked on the spray of stars above your head, “when you host a party, it’s usually expected that you attend. Running away is frowned upon.”

He laughs and you can feel it through your entire body. It awakens the butterflies sleeping in your chest, sending them fluttering to your guts where the beating of their tiny wings create an inferno so large it sets you on fire from the inside out. You always wondered what it would feel like to be burned alive. You would have never guessed that it would make your toes curl.

“I thought that was what you wanted,” he drags his fingers through your scalp, the final blow to your once styled hair, “to run away. Here’s a start.”

You rub your cheek against his thigh, your face heating when he tenses at your action, “we’re pretty terrible at this running away thing then,” you hum, pulling yourself to your knees, “we only made it five miles. If I focus I think I can still hear the music. We’re lousy escape artists.”

A breeze blows over your shoulders and you shiver, your thin shawl doing nothing to veil you from the night. You’re just thankful it’s still warm enough to be outside at this time of night. Soon the nights will be getting colder and you won’t be able to do this. It’s one of the many reasons you long to move away. A pair of hands draws over your shoulders and you shiver again, this time from something entirely unrelated to the elements. You smile lightly. Maybe not. The Mikealson’s have more than proven that they are a force of nature.

Klaus’ voice is like ocean waves in your ear, cresting your skin with every low syllable, “well this is just the beginning, love. How far we go is up to you.”

He’s joking, of course. He has to be joking, right? You turn to look at him, seeking out his eyes in the darkness. They burn into yours, no hint of humor anywhere on his face. His gaze pierces through the night and your breath catches, your heart pounding at all the possibilities of what he meant. You bring the bottle to your lips, using the cool liquid to stall while you gather your feelings.

Kol takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth, “So, darling,” he kisses one of your knuckles, his lips like heavenly fire, “how far are we going?” Another knuckle, another kiss, “what is it you want?” He nips lightly at your fingertips and you gasp, the feeling akin to tiny zaps of lightning against your skin, “where do you want to go?”

Your head is spinning, the champagne settling once more over your bones, “I wouldn’t know where to start. There are too many places,” you swallow hard, “too many things.”

Klaus’ fingers toy at the straps of your dress, skimming down your arms with them in tow, “the first place that comes to mind, love. What is it?”

Elijah pulls you towards him, his hand sliding up the slit on your thigh and curling around your hip. His fingers whisper over your bare skin and you tighten your hand on the bottle. Not out of fear, though. No, you use the bottle to keep your hands busy. If your hands were empty you can’t be sure where exactly they would be. On who they would be.

Elijah squeezes your hip and you gasp again, this time louder, “New Orleans,” it’s the first place that comes to your mind, “I want to go to New Orleans.”

Time stills when you finally answer the question. You can hear the wind rustle through the trees and crickets chirping in the distance. Three smells, each of their own element, wrap around you. Klaus’, like water, pouring over your back. Kol’s, like fire, burning up your arm. Elijah’s, like earth, sliding down your hips. You, the air, curl around each of them, pulling them close with your very essence. 

And then, with a far off howl, time unfreezes and Klaus rips the straps down your arms, “New Orleans, hmm,” He sweeps your hair back, his nose skimming down the side of your neck, “a woman after my own heart. When shall we go?”

You laugh, the sound breaking through the almost reverent atmosphere, “we can’t just leave, Klaus. You have to plan things. I can’t just drop everything and run to New Orleans.”

Kol pulls your arm through the strap, furthering the tantalizingly slow  process of peeling the dress from your body, “but you want to, darling. Am I right?”

His lips find the crook of your elbow and you almost moan, “of course you are but it’s not practical.”

Elijah tugs at your hips again, pulling you onto his lap. Kol and Klaus move with you, clinging to you like shadows. Kol’s hair tickles your arm, the soft strands brushing against you as his blazes a trail of open mouthed kisses up your arm. Klaus nips the back of your neck, his fingers wrapped in your hair and pulling lightly. It should feel wrong, you know it should, but by god how could something this ethereal possibly be wrong. Your body feels like it’s made out air and for the first time you’re free to breeze wherever you choose.

“Neither are we. It’s simple,” Elijah leans down, grabbing your jaw and steering you to meet his eyes, “would you like to go, y/n?”

Your heart stops when it hits you that they’re dead serious, “to New Orleans?”

It’s dark but you can still make out the smile on his face. It says it all, his words only reaffirming what your brain has been screaming at you.

“Not just New Orleans, darling, everywhere,” Elijah murmurs, his lips just in front of yours, his peppermint breath fanning your face delicately, “do you want to go everywhere?”

Just like that, your heart restarts, a rush of adrenaline spreading over your bones. Very rarely in life are you presented with the opportunity to go everywhere. You can’t even fathom what everywhere means. Surely there isn’t time to go everywhere, right? You suck in a breath, one that makes it feel like before this moment you were never truly breathing at all. Who cares if there isn’t enough time, you think to yourself.

You slide your arms around Elijah’s neck fast, nodding your head furiously in lieu of all the words that refuse to form a coherent sentence. You tangle your fingers in his hair, the strands like silk against your skin. You don’t take your time to admire it, though, you just yank his mouth to yours, smashing your lips against his and hoping it says everything that you can’t. 

His hands squeeze your hips again and this time you don’t hold back, moaning into his mouth with the force of the tropical storm building under your skin. Your dress feels much too tight all of a sudden, the sequined material biting into your flesh. You shuffle, pulling your other arm from the strap before wrapping it back around Elijah’s shoulder, your fingers digging into his back through his tux jacket. That needs to go too. Now.

“Darling,” Kol’s husky voice whispers against your skin, his face buried in the other side of your neck, “as beautiful as you look right now I’m about half a second away from ripping this dress off your body.”

His words barely register but you catch the important parts, peeling your lips from Elijah’s just far enough to utter, “please don’t rip it, it’s the prettiest thing I own.”

His hands, which are curled around the back of your bodice, stall momentarily, “well that won’t do, now will it?” He muses, his mouth skimming your shoulder with each word, “New Orleans is fine, you won’t need many clothes at all I’m sure. But Paris will demand more of us, darling. We’ll have to fix this.”

Your heart shudders, along with your body. Paris. Surely now he’s joking.

He opts instead to use the zipper rather than tearing it apart, his knuckles softly skimming your bare back as it becomes exposed to him. Inch by inch, cool air wraps around your skin. When he gets to halfway, his mouth begins following his hands. He nips at the bumps of your spine, biting down harder when he gets to the base. Your hands, which are still on Elijah’s shoulder, tighten as flames roll through your body. 

Klaus’ hands slip around you, tugging this time at the front of your bodice and pulling it down to reveal your bare chest. He pushes the fabric down your stomach, trailing his fingertips over your ribs as you arch into his chest, a string of incoherent praises falling from your lips. You’re pretty sure you murmur his name somewhere in there though, because his chest rumbles against your back and, before you know it, he pulls you up to your feet. 

“Klaus, what are you-” your words are cut short from the night, swallowed instead by lips which taste too much like oranges and rum for you to even consider trying to repeat yourself .

His tongue slips into your mouth, his hands flying into your hair, pushing it away from your face and using it to tilt your head to an angle that makes you see stars. The cold air sweeps over your breasts and you shiver again. It doesn’t last long before a pair of hands are sliding up your exposed sternum and over your chest, cupping your breasts. Kol’s cinnamon musk furls in your lungs as he pulls you into his now bare chest. His skin is hot against yours but you wouldn’t expect anything less from the flame made man. 

Klaus detaches from your lips, pressing them once more against your swollen mouth before moving down your neck. He pulls your skin into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the dip in your throat. He courses a river down your front with his mouth, stopping to leave little love bites all over your collarbones and shoulders before heading south. He falls to his knees, shrugging his jacket off before pressing his lips to the valley between your breasts. 

You moan, loudly, and thread your fingers through his hair, tugging him harder against you, “god, you’re too good at that,” you roll your head against Kol’s shoulder as Klaus lips flow over your skin, finding your nipple between Kol’s fingers, “we should not be doing this.”

Another pair of hands, the last pair, pulls your face to a pair of lips, the last pair of lips, “Is that what you think, darling? Do you want us to stop?”

Elijah’s lips skim over yours as he speaks, sparks igniting with each touch. You don’t have to think about his question.

“No,” you press your mouth against his assertively, “please don’t stop. Never stop.”

With that Klaus pushes the rest of your dress off your body and, well, the rest of the details of that night remain between you, Kol, Klaus, Elijah, and the stars.

                               *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

You lean your head against the cool leather of the seat, your eyes closed as the wind whips your hair behind you. You’ve never ridden in a convertible before but, much to the trend of Mikaelson fashion, it’s luxurious. Elijah slings his arm around your shoulders and you smile, cracking your eye open to glance at him. His hand is on the wheel, his eyes focused on the road ahead of him. He looks peaceful. Happy. He looks over at you, tossing you a wink before turning back to the road. Butterflies flutter through your chest and you welcome them with open arms.

You glance in the rearview mirror, your grin growing when you see two sleeping men. Kol is leaning back, his mouth half open as soft snores fall from his mouth. You giggle quietly. Last night must have exhausted him. He wears his slacks still but now, instead of his jacket, he wears a wine colored hoodie. His hair is mussed and you swallow thickly, thinking back to how it felt between your hands.

You move to Klaus, shaking your head slightly to defuse your slowly heating skin. He, too, no longer wears his jacket  but, unlike Kol, he only has a t-shirt on. His arms are folded under his head as he leans against the seat. His body is relaxed, his legs spread in front of him. You yawn looking at him, fighting the urge to crawl over your own seat and into his lap.

“Are you tired, love?” Elijah’s voice mixes with the wind, floating over you like music.

You meet his glance for a moment, smiling sheepishly, “yes but it’s nothing.”

“You should try to sleep,” his voice is slightly concerned, his eyes slipping over your bruised skin before turning back to the highway, “we still have about seven hours before we’re even in Louisiana.” 

You stifle another yawn, pulling the sunglasses on your head over your eyes as the sun breaks over the trees blurring past you, “not yet, Eli. I don’t want to miss anything. I’ll sleep when we get there.”

You hear your phone beep from the bag at your feet but you ignore it. That’s another thing that you’ll wait until the Louisiana state line for. Instead you lift the book on your lap, your fingers skimming delicately over the words on the cover. Vonya i mir. Your heart warms as you open it to the first page, settling into the leather seat. Elijah looks over at you and chuckles, the sound even more musical than last night. This is going to be the easiest seven hours of your life.

[missmalyari]

Falling in Love and Various Naps

Linhardt x Hilda 3652 words

Hilda’s hands move across the spines of the books, her mind elsewhere. She is supposed to be organizing the returned books but the pile is so large and she can’t bring herself to care. She wonders if she’ll be able to get some assistance, but the library is quiet, so she curses her luck. Her thoughts drift to the beach how she would love to just lounge around and listen to the sounds of waves. Imagination has to satisfy her, since even though she is a noble she didn’t have the luxury to visit one.

She continues to maneuver through the shelves, and slowly makes progress with her stack when her foot snags on something.

Midway through her fall she realizes that it’s someone. It’s confirmed when she feel’s a pair of hangs brace her fall. Due to the angle they couldn’t exactly catch her, but they move her in a way that braces the fall. Her eyes meet a dark green pair, the gaze drowsy. It’s impressive he was even able to catch her.

“Linhardt,” she says, “thanks for that.” The slim boy in front of her lets out a sigh.

“You’re lucky I wasn’t fully asleep.”

Hilda’s able to take a closer look at him now. He slumps against the shelf behind him, books surround him and one lays open in his lap.

“I wouldn’t have fallen in the first place if you napped in your bed like a normal person.”

Linhardt rolls his eyes, shutting the book in front of him.

“I really didn’t mean to fall asleep, the library just makes me so comfortable.”

Hilda gets up and brushes the dust off her clothes.

“Well, do any of those need to be returned?” He shoots her a confused look. She’s well aware that Linhardt lives in the library, the chance of him having books to return is high.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, obviously because it’s my job for the next couple weeks.” He shrugs.

“Nothing at the moment.”

“Good, less work for me, goodbye Linhardt I’ll see you around.” He sends her a lazy wave before she walks off. It’s a shame that the only person consistently in the library is someone who would never lift a finger to help.

-

In the next couple weeks Hilda runs into Linhardt more and more. Sometimes they chat while she’s organizing books, sometimes they don’t speak at all. The job is easy for her so she needs a way to pass the time. If she’s in the mood she’ll ask what he’s reading. If it’s something particularly interesting, he’ll share it with her. It’s through these conversations that Hilda realizes that the boy is actually really smart. Though, like her, he’s selective about where he puts his attention.

She overhears from other students that he got in some trouble with Professor Manuela. She’s immediately curious, so when she hears Linhardt and Professor Manuela talking she just has to listen.

“You need to do better Linhardt,” Professor Maneula says, “I know what you’re capable of.”

“But it isn’t necessary so why should I have to,” he sighs.

“What about your family,” she responds, “you come from a noble house shouldn’t you want to perform well for them.” Linhardt seem to let out an even louder sigh.

“I’ve heard that one before Professor and honestly none of that matters to me at all.”

Hilda wants to scoff at the statement but she doesn’t want to risk exposing that she’s eavesdropping. She couldn’t tell if the feeling in her was judgment or jealousy. In a way, she wishes she could have that outlook. Sometimes she feels that family opinion matters too much to her.

-

One day she happens to finish organizing her stack earlier than usual. She wonders what she should do for the rest of her day until her eyes land on Linhardt. He’s in the same spot as when she first tripped over him, but now he isn’t sleeping. Hilda grabs her bags and moves towards him and sits next to him. He looks towards her obviously confused.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Reading, which is something you don’t do.”

Hilda would be offended, but it’s true. She studies when she has too, but reading for pleasure isn’t something she likes.

“Well you’re right,” she responds, “but I’m studying.”

“Why next to me?”

“Why not?” Now she starts to get annoyed. Was her presence really that grating?

“If you want me to leave,” she responds,”I can, I don’t want to intrude.”

His confusion fades a little, though the apprehension doesn’t fade. Hilda realizes he must be used to reading by himself. This is probably his relaxing time that she’s totally intruding. Now she feels like an idiot.

“No,” he says, surprising her, “it’s fine.” He turns back to his book as if she wasn’t there. She smiles towards him before moving back to her own book, the comfortable silence making a great study atmosphere.

-

Hilda’s assignment to the library stops but she doesn’t stop visiting Linhardt. He is rather predictable with his schedule. She goes into the library and sits with him, either studying or making jewelry. She remembers whens she first spreads out her supplies on the floor, it immediately drew his curiosity.

“You make all these?” he said, picking up a bracelet. She lets out a sound of agreement before she continues to work on a chain. He put his book down and he was now rummaging through her tools, picking up a stray bead when he something interests him.

“It’s impressive,” he says, “I don’t know a lot of people who make jewelry.”

Hilda’s eyes light up. Most of her close friends know of her hobby, but lately she is so busy she isn’t able to show off her work.

“Well it is always easier to buy them,” she looks down at the thin chain in her hand, “but I really enjoy making my own things, plus I can make whatever I want. There’s a convenience in that.”

“It’s pretty,” he says, running a finger across the chain. Hilda smiles widely at him. Once he looks back at her she notices his face is turning a little red.

“I’m glad you appreciate it, honestly I’m surprised you’re even still listening to me, I didn’t even mention any Crests.”

“If you make jewelry inspired by Crests I’ll be at a hundred percent attention.” She feigns offense, dramatically lifting her hands to her face.

“So you weren’t giving me your devoted attention, I’m so hurt Linhardt.”

“I’m at ninety percent.”

“I’m honored to even have that much,” she laughs right when he lets out a loud yawn.

-

Her friends now question her consistent visits to the library but she always laughs it off. Why does it surprise them so much that she’d like to spend time with other people outside of her class? Maybe her friends should branch out more.

“What are you going to do when you graduate?”

Hilda looks towards Linhardt. They sit close to one another, inches separate them. She ponders the question. After school is something she doesn’t like to dwell on.

“Most likely going to help out my family with things, they’ll find something for me to do. My brother Holst has the Throat handled already so I just have to fill in any gaps.”

“Is that what you really want to do?” he says, a frown on his face.

“I’d rather go to the beach,” Hilda says, “what about you?” She wants to derail the the question.

“I don’t want to deal with nobility,” he responds, “it’s all useless to me.”

She remembers his response to Professor Manuela which seems like an eternity ago.

“What about your family?”

“I care about my family, but my family should understand that I want to do what makes me happy,” he stares at her their faces close, “I don’t want to be held back by all of it.”

“So, what do you want exactly?”

“Freedom to go where I please and to lay around anywhere I’d like,” his eyes look amused, “maybe I’d like to go visit a beach as well.”

“I’m assuming you’d be joining me then?” She lets out a light laugh.

“There’s no one else I’d rather go with.”

-

It’s a lazy Friday, Hilda dozes off. She leans against Linhardt’s shoulder, the weight of his head against her provides a comforting presence. His fingers comb through her hair.

“Do you want to go somewhere?”

The question surprises her, she shifts so now the two of them sit up. They never went outside of the library together. Hilda worries sometimes that it’s become an unspoken rule between them that they don’t go outside. The question causes something to flutter in her stomach.

“I’d love that,” she says. Linhardt gets up, and reaches out his hand and lifts her towards him. They’re less than a foot apart, and Hilda realizes how handsome he really is.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“You know most girls don’t like being taken to mysterious locations.”

Linhardt laughs at that. The sound makes Hilda smile wide, she adores making him laugh.

“I think I’m the one who should be more scared of you, you’re the one with an axe.”

He leads her away after that statement, his hand still holding onto hers.

Hilda is glad he surprises her. She is not expecting a quaint clearing in the forests. It is beautiful. The clearing is filled with flowers, but there’s a section in the middle that’s flat.

“So this is where you go when you skip classes,” she says. He’s taking a blanket out of his bag and he lays is across the flat section of the clearing. She notes that the blanket is bigger than the spot.

“Most of the times, yes, lately I haven’t been coming here as much.” He lays against the blanket, his expression shifts to his familiar sleepy face. “This is my favorite place.”

Slowly she moves down next to him. Various thoughts flash through her mind. She wonders if Linhardt knows the implications of this activity. Something like this is downright intimate. It causes her heart to race. Once she looks up at the view above her she starts to truly understand the boy next to her. The lights cut through the leaves in a beautiful pattern, all other thoughts do seem to fade.

“This is beautiful,” she says, “I’m happy you showed this to me.”

“I’ve never shown anyone else.”

What a bold thing to say, she thinks to herself. Hilda feels like she’s going to burst. She feels like a character from the novels but she revels in it. It just makes her feel like a regular girl with no nobility to worry about. The air around them feels like it’s sparking, it emboldens her. Hilda’s never been the one to make the first move but she thinks she can make an exception for this.

Ever so slowly, she moves her hand towards his. She tries to make it seem like an accident, giving him the chance to pull away. First her pinky connects with his, and suddenly she feels Linhardt’s hand grip hers. He falls asleep next to her, still holding her hand, while Hilda is wide awake, face red and a large smile on her face.

-

She doesn’t remember falling asleep they both wake up eventually. Linhardt being a gentleman walks her back to her room.

“Thanks for today, it was super relaxing.” She fidgets with her key.

He shrugs. “It’s what I’m good at.”

“I’ve got to take you somewhere now, sadly I don’t have any cool secret spots, but,” she reaches into her bag, “I have a gift for you.”

Linhardt’s eyes widen, “A gift? Why?”

“Why not, I love giving my friends gifts.” She hands him a bracelet. “Your sense of style is simple so I didn’t want to make you anything too gaudy, a simple chain bracelet is always nice. Plus, I added a little leaf charm just for fun.”

She puts her hands behind her back, a blush on her cheeks. He turns the chain around his hand as he clicks it into place. His eyes look fond.

“I hope you like it,” she rambles, “I don’t usually gift guys jewelry so I’m not sure if—“

“I like it, I appreciate this.” She smiles again.

“I have another gift for you, that I don’t usually give out.” His eyes widen once more, his face turning a bright shade of red.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hilda’s grinning widely now, as she steps towards him and places a chaste kiss on the cheek. He looks at her with a baffled expression, and he starts to rub the back of his neck.

“That was… unexpected. Not in a bad way.” Hilda giggles as she opens the door before she greets him a goodnight.

-

They both continue to spend time together, Linhardt’s presence becomes something grounding for Hilda. They continue to spend time together through all the highs and lows of the school year. Things aren’t too interesting until the Golden Deer gain a new mercenary student. Things get chaotic when news from the Throat seems to turn her life upside down.

The news that the Almyrans are invading Fodlan’s Locket frightens her. She doesn’t worry for her brother specifically, she grew out of that years ago. But the implications of this event are disturbing.

Hilda doesn’t register the knocking at first. She’s too busy sorting her things and her thoughts are with her home. She moves towards the door as the knocking continues. Surprise turns to relief when she sees Linhardt in front of her. He greets her with a small smile.

“Well, what a surprise,” she smiles at him, trying to keep her tone light.

“You haven’t been over,” he responds, “and then I heard about what’s happening in Leicester.” He looks towards her bags.

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

She doesn’t know. There’s the journey to Leicester and then all that comes after. Then again maybe everything will be rushed if the Almyrans decide to just storm the Throat.

“I can only imagine a couple of months,” she says, “I’m not sure how classes are going to work out.”

“Maybe it’s a blessing you don’t have to worry about school.”

He frowns. He’s thinking deeply about something, worrying.

“I’ll be fine, plus my brother is going to be there.”

“I know you’ll be fine,” he says, “you’re very capable with or without your brother.” She wants to cut in saying that he hasn’t even seen how capable Holst is, but decides not to. The compliment makes her feel lighter.

“I’ve been hearing rumors around class,” he continues, “something is going on back in the Empire.” The statement causes her stomach to sink. She knows what that implies.

“Do you think you’ll be leaving as well?” He looks at her and leans against the door frame.

“No,” he looks away, “like I said, it’s only rumors.” She looks towards the floor, the disappointment she is feeling is palatable.

“Well, thanks for letting me know,” the light tone nonexistent. She sighs, “I have to get back to packing.”

“Let me help.”

Hilda lets him in. Most of her packing was completed by the time Linhardt arrived, so with his help it goes by fast. Now, they sit on her bed, silent. She has no clue what to say, the small environment of her room doesn’t ease her heartbeat ringing in her ears.

“I have something for you.”

She looks at him, eyes wide. He looks away from her, fidgeting with something in his pocket. The back of his neck is red. She can’t help but think to himself how cute he is. A bright smile crosses her face and she clasps her hands together.

“Well show me then silly, you know I love when people give me gifts.” He rolls his eyes before pulling out a box from his pocket. He places it in her hand and she observes how light it is.

Hilda opens it quickly, forgetting any training on accepting gifts with grace. The necklace is a thin silver chain with a small green pendent attached. The pendent is surrounded by smaller jewels, and she notices a small leaf design in the center of the pendent. It’s similar to the bracelet she made for him.

“If I could make jewelry I would’ve made it match the bracelet, but this is the best I could do.”

“I love it,” she’s can feel tears threatening to spill, “thank you.”

Linhardt looks to her with the brightest smile she’s ever seen. She remembers the boldness she felt in the forest and she can’t help but act once more.

“Put it on for me,” handing the box to him. He looks back to the box and back to her, he swallows.

She turns her back towards him, which also hides the growing blush on her cheeks. Her eyes close as she feels his hands move in front of her. She tries to focus on the feel of his fingers against her neck, the tingling that goes down her spine. His hands linger has she closes the clasp. Once his touch leaves she looks to him, feeling shy. His face is calm except for his eyes she wants to look more until he turns away.

“It looks good.” he says quietly, “I chose well.” The statement makes her laugh and he’s now looking at her like she’s something precious. He moves his face closer, slowly, as if giving her a chance to back away. But why would she, when this is something she’s wanted for so long now. The kiss itself is light and quick, yet it feels permanently burned into her memory.

-

It turns out Hilda is horrible at predictions. A couple months turns into two years. They’re able to stop the Almyran invasion but it seems that everyone in Fodlan has problems. The time away goes by in a blur. She helps her brother with everything he doesn’t have time for. If possible she ‘delegates’ whatever she doesn’t deem important enough.

In quiet moments she grazes her hand against her necklace and she wonders how Linhardt is doing. She hopes he isn’t as busy as she is because she knows he’d be miserable. But even the quiet moments lessen once the Empire invades. The face she shows is chipper, and she is truly happy to see the Golden Deer, but there’s an anxiety in her she doesn’t want to confront.

The more Empire troops they face the worse it gets, but The Great Bridge of Myrddin is the first fight that truly takes everything out of her.

-

She sprints to Claude knowing that he’s supporting Raphael against the mages. She had faced Caspar beforehand and saw him get warped away. Then she hears who warps Caspar away and it makes her stomach drop.

“Claude,” she yells at him. He looks down at her, confused.

“Hilda what are you doing —“

“Linhardt can be reasoned with,” she’s runs up to him, Claude lowers his wyvern, “I know he can, please, please, let Raphael know.” Claude can get there faster on his wyvern. His eyes are blank when he looks at her, and Hilda wants to curse his calculating brain.

“Do you want to come?” Hilda doesn’t even answer before she hops on.

The sight that greets her makes her want to scream at Raphael but she can’t. Mages litter the clearing, there’s blood everywhere. Linhardt kneels, hand clutches at his stomach. She thanks the Goddess that Raphael didn’t unsheathe his blades. She sees the bruises forming against his pale skin, there’s cuts on his face, and his robe in in tatters. His hair is shorter and in a bun. The bun matches how she styles her hair and it makes her want to laugh. It makes her want to cry.

Claude offers him a choice and he stares right at her as he accepts Claude’s mercy.

-

She doesn’t have time to visit him until a week later. Raphael did a number on him. Their medical mages had to check for internal damage, but the main issue was the bruises. She enters the room and he is awake. He stares up at her as she walks closer to the bed, apprehensive. The tome in his hand still open.

“Hello,” she feels awkward, “how are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a carriage.”

“I’m sure Raphael would argue he hits harder than a carriage,” she says. Slowly she runs a hand lightly down his cheek. His face is still bruised all over, she could only imagine what the rest looks like.

“I’m happy you’re here,” she says quietly, “I wish it wasn’t during something like this.” He holds her hand to his face and places a small kiss on the inside of her palms.

“I don’t die for just any cause. There’s too much I have to do.”

“Good,” she says, placing a light kiss to his forehead.

“Stay with me,” he blurts out.

“There’s no way I can lay there and you’ll still be comfortable.”

“I’m always comfortable with you,” he retorts, “please.”

Hilda can’t bring herself to refuse him. She squeezes next to him and rests her head against the crook of his neck. His hands wrap around her and she feels him sigh against her.

“I’m surprise you still want to do this,” she gestures at them, “it has been two years.”

“I could say the same to you.”

“I suppose you can say I thought about you a lot.”

She feels Linhardt smile against her hair, a huff leaves him. The chain of his bracelet digs into her side.

“I’ve missed you,” he says.

Hilda only answers with a kiss, thankful she has another one to remember.

[writers-blogck]

Animal Crossing Cuddles ( Kenma Kozume x Reader )

Warning(s): This is literally just because I am so addicted to Animal Crossing right now. I am doing a full makeover of my island. 

Title: Animal Crossing Cuddles Pairing: Kenma Kozume x Reader Fandom: Haikyuu! Word Count: 1,518

        "Come on, that is like the third one in a row! I just want to find some furniture but all I'm getting is bees!" You yelled at the small screen on your Nintendo Switch Lite, hands clenching the console tightly. If it wasn't something so near and dear to you, there would be a slim chance that you would just throw the torture machine against the wall. Yet, the light pastel colors of the custom Switch your boyfriend had got for you made you keep just enough of a level head to keep from breaking the precious item. Who would think that Animal Crossing could make you so angry?! It was supposed to be a relaxing game. 

        You had woken up this morning with a pounding headache and sniffles that no matter how much you tried, wouldn't stop. Where was your body getting all of that gunk?! How many tissues had you used today? All you could see was the mountain of white fluff hidden in your trashcan. 

        At least you were warm, that had to be a plus. You were wearing one of your own hoodies but Kenma had sprayed his cologne on it last time you spent the night at his house. How considerate. He knew that your hoodie fit you comfortably so instead of giving you his hoodie, he made your own smell like him. He thought it would be better in case his hoodies were too big or small on you. But your hoodie wasn't enough so you were wrapped up in your fuzzy cat blanket which made it perfect. 

        Well, it would be perfect if these bees didn't keep falling out of these trees!

        "Get out of my way Stitches or else you will be getting the net too!" You grumbled, your back sliding against the warmth of your sheets. Only a hint of your face and hands could be seen as you hid in your fortress made of blankets and the wonderful smell of your long-term boyfriend. A sick burrito perhaps. 

        Kenma's cologne was something burnt in your memory. The two of you had been dating since the beginning of middle school and have been going strong since. It started out as a simple puppy love relationship but as the two of you got older, the relationship grew with you. Kuroo had joked that the two of you were already a married couple and you would be lying if you said that it didn't make you happy when he said that. Kenma may not show it but you think it makes him happy too. It was fun to daydream about a future together.

        One way that the two of you bonded in a domestic sense was with Animal Crossing. It was a way for the two of you to bond when you couldn't visit each other. It was hard at times, especially with Kenma's overnight volleyball trips, for the two of you to meet up in person as much as you would like. Still, your relationship together was strong enough that those issues were nothing more than simple bumps in the road of your relationship. At this point, dealing with the times the two of you had to do long-distance communication was normal.  

        During one of the overnight trips with the team coming back from Karasuno, the two of you spent most of his trip home on Animal Crossing. He holed up in the back of the bus with his phone, face timing you with just enough light so you could see his cat-like eyes. That trip had been filled with silence save for the rumble of the bus in the background but it still was one of your favorite memories. Animal Crossing had made a special place in both of your hearts. 

        Kenma had both a normal Switch as well as the Lite version way before the game came out. You had never been as into games as your boyfriend but you had always liked playing Animal Crossing on Kenma's old DS. When the two of you were younger, he would let you borrow his DS during free-time. You were one of the rare people he let use his systems. He had even let you take it home with you when you had a hard week. He said that it would help to play over the weekend. The sweet music of Animal Crossing truly did help you relax after a tough week.

        Kenma decided to go all the way and more when he commissioned someone for a custom Nekoma Pastel Switch Lite just for you to be able to play the game with him. Animal Crossing meant so much to him and with the promise of being able to play it with you, he was willing to do anything he had to. He was great at giving gifts that he put a lot of thought into. HE could have just bought you a normal Lite (which would already be a huge thing) but then that sweetheart had to go and get you one specially designed. He was so casual about it too: 

        - So, I got you the new Animal Crossing.          - Oh, that's sweet but I don't have anything to play it on.          - I got you a Switch Lite too.          - Kenmaaaaaa         - It's customized too.          - KENMAAAAAAA

        "It sounds like you are having a hard time in here." The calm voice of your boyfriend made you look up from your current gaming issue in shock. You were surprised to see him standing there in your doorway, he shouldn't be here. You didn't want to get him sick. Before you could say anything, he was already shutting the door to your bedroom and walking in with his backpack slung over his shoulder. He didn't seem to be worried in any way about that as he sat down on the edge of your bed. Your eyes glanced at your phone and just now noticed the blinking notification from his message(s). Dang, that cold medicine was really getting to you. 

        "Puddin'-head, you shouldn't be here," You were surprised by how whiny your voice sounded as you spoke. You were just worried about your boyfriend, he didn't have time to get sick. He was needed on the team, he was their setter after all. You would never hear the end of it from Kuroo if Kenma got sick because of you. Never! Rooster head would spam your phone with annoying texts as revenge. 

        "I'm fine. Don't worry about it. I brought my notes over for you to copy since you weren't able to make it to class today." His monotone voice was calming and had you believing everything was fine. How was he able to get you to go along with anything he said?! With the lack of sleep in your system and the cold medicine in your veins, it was easy to believe his words. Kenma had a good immune system, he wouldn't catch whatever you had. ( Kuroo would be ranting in your group chat together for the next three hours when he heard about Kenma going over to your house. He sounded more like a worried mother than even Sugawara from Karasuno ).  

        Before you could abject any further, your small console was swiped from your hands as Kenma took the space next to you on your bed. He began to play your game as casually as he would his own. You were about to open your mouth to complain about his theft when he continued to talk - 

        "I can go island hopping for you to get you some money while you do your work. I know you don't want to but you need to get those notes copied. You can have this back when you are finished. This way you won't be behind when you get back to school." Kenma's fingers moved over the buttons just like an expert, which you would be tempted to say he was. You had never met anyone that played games as much as he did. If he could, you bet Kenma would play games even when he was asleep. Kuroo already had to take his console away to make sure the blonde ate. 

        "But it's Friday! I have all weekend to get it done. Why do I have to do it right now?" 

        "Because you and I know that you won't do it if I'm not here and I won't be able to come over for the next few days. That means that you need to get it done before we can do anything. When you finish, maybe we can even watch a movie but you first have to get caught up on what you missed." 

        "Can I at least lay on your lap while I do it?" A pout graced your face and Kenma couldn't keep himself from smiling. He wasn't sure how he got so lucky to have someone like you in his life. 

        "You never have to ask. I'm always going to be here for you, whether it is for you to copy notes from or to be a human heater."

[multiyandereimagines]

Oooh! Maybe you could do one with how the yandere!bau cuddle their s/o after the s/o had a bad day? ❤❤

yes i love this, thank you!!

this is based on the older team so i hope you don’t mind. ❤️

(this gif is not mine)

[Aaron Hotchner]

if he heard that you had a bad day he would bombard you with questions like “who made you feel bad?” or “what’s their name i just want to talk to them.”

you have to reassure him plenty of times that it’s alright and that it was just stressful at your work.

you were feeling really tired so you asked him if he could cuddle with you and he quickly said yes, he could never say no to you after all.

you two laid on the couch, his strong arms protectively snaked around your waist. slowly you felt your eyes getting heavy and aaron noticed this, “go to sleep baby, get some rest.” he whispered softly into your ear, and just like that, you dozed off.

[Spencer Reid]

you were so mentally exhausted, your boss kept on pressuring you to get your work done and to top all of that there were not so nice customers that argued with you all day.

you walked into your shared apartment with spencer, placing your keys on the coffee table and you plopped down on the couch, a heavy sigh leaving your lips, you closed your eyes hoping to relieve some of the headache.

“hard day?” spencer spoke, you opened your eyes and saw spencer standing there with a small smile. you nodded, “you want me to cuddle you?” he asks although he didn’t really need to, he already knew the answer, he knows you better than anyone else. you nodded again and spencer sat down next to you, his slim arms gently around your waist since he feared he held on too tight and he would hurt you.

the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt you, his chin resting on your shoulder as you slowly fell asleep cuddling with your boyfriend.

[Derek Morgan]

derek is a strong guy so when he hears you’ve been having a bad day you better know he would hold you closely to him until you couldn’t breathe.

recently you’ve been depressed but lucky for you your boyfriend, derek, is there to comfort you.

your face is almost shoved to his chest while he hugs you tightly, almost like he’s holding on for dear life. his chest is comforting to you so you don’t exactly mind, his smell reminds you of home and it makes you all happy. and that’s all derek ever wants.

[David Rossi]

now david is not really much of a cuddler (at least i don’t see him that way), but for you he’s open to that idea.

you work as a teacher and the kids in your class have been getting on your nerves and your sick and tired of it, you sometimes contemplate on retiring but the thought of being home all alone while your husband saves the world doesn’t sound like something you’d want.

you poured yourself some wine and took a small sip of it, you hear footsteps behind you so you turn your head to see the one and only, david rossi.

“whenever you drink wine i know your day has been terrible.” he smiled which made you smile back, you let out a chuckle and took another sip, “you know me too well david..”

you sat down on the fancy couch and placed your wine on the coffee table, you patted the spot next to you and rossi immediately got the message. he sat down and gently rubbed your back. “i know you never do this but... would you consider cuddling with me? i really need it today.” you looked up at him, he smiled and nodded.

he brought you closer to him and you rest your head on his shoulder as he continued to rub your back gently, he should cuddle you more often.

[Emily Prentiss]

she’s the overprotective type so kinda similar to hotch she would ask you so many questions, you eventually calm her down and insist that she cuddles you.

she’s also the romantic type as well so she runs a bath for the both of you and as the two of you get in you both cling together, almost like your glued together.

she would whisper sweet nothings to you and reassure you that everything’s gonna be okay, she gently washes your body as you wash hers, the heavenly smell filling the room as you both lay their enjoying one another’s company.

[Jennifer Jareau]

she kinda treats you like her own child, she completely babies you and does whatever you want her to do, she also gets super clingy especially when you’re having a bad day.

“honey are you sure you don’t want me to make you something? how about some tea?”

“what movie do you want to see? you decide babe!”

“i’ll always be here with you, you know that!”

while you two watch your favorite movie you two warm each other up with blankets and jj snuggles up with you, rarely paying attention to the movie but only to you, once she sees your mood changing in a positive way she would keep kissing your head making you giggle and smile up at her.

[Penelope Garcia]

similar to jj she would insist doing anything you want, she would make you your favorite tea even if you didn’t want it. she would bring you your favorite snacks and pull you close to her so that you had no where to run, but it’s not like you want to go anywhere anyway.

she’s like the best at cuddling so whenever she gets the chance to do this your mood is instantly brightened, you sip your tea and rest your head on the crook of her neck, sighing contently.

[dreamingofaizawa]

Queen of Hades

Hades! Shouta Aizawa x Persephone! Fem! Reader

***18+ Fic***

If you are not 18 years or older, please refrain from reading any further. Thank you.

Warnings: TW: Incest, kidnapping, stockholm-ish, slow-burn ish, smut, praise kink and body worship if you squint, possessive during smexy time, overstimulation, squirting, dacryphilia, masturbation (not super descriptive tho), unprotected sex (pretty obvious but I’m putting it here anyway), creampie, aftercare, tiny bit of angst at the end but not too bad.

Word Count: 9.7k (Holy shit)

Author’s Note: *kinda long note here, you don’t really have to read it if you don’t want to*

Ohhhkaaaayyyyyy so this took a lot out of me. This is my longest fic so far, and honeslty I’m kinda proud of it. I’ve always been a sucker for Greek mythology, and I’ve always had a soft spot for Hades because he’s so sorely portrayed as a villain in mainstream media. He’s really not as bad as movies like Percy Jackson and Hercules make him out to be. Nothing in the mythology suggests that Persephone was unhappy, so I took it a ran with it. I also drew a bit of inspiration from Lore Olympus on WebToon (iykyk) for the parts regarding Demeter’s parenting.

The only three characters I really referenced to mha besides Aizawa is Hizashi Yamada (Hermes), Momo Yaoyorozu (Aphrodite), and Bakugo Katsuki (Ares). I went with Momo for Aphrodite solely because she seems like the only one Bakugo would willingly listen to since she’s on par with him at least in intelligence. I made Bakugo Ares because he’s the god of war, and tends to get angry easily. Their temperaments are similar, except for the fact that Ares can be pretty cowardly (sorry not sorry Ares).

Anyway, enjoy~

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The god sat on his throne, contemplating his lonely existence for what felt like the hundredth time. It may have been, considering he is immortal. At one time, he’d never given loneliness a second thought. He didn’t mind being this way. His job was important, even if melancholy, and he took it very seriously. Keeping Cerberus tame and entertained was probably the most difficult part, physically. The three-headed dog sat at the entrance to the underworld, guarding at all times to ensure any and all souls that passed through could never escape. And Hades simply ruled over this plane of existence, ensuring nothing was out of order and those kept in the depths of Tartarus remained there. 

However, in the last couple centuries the raven-haired god had been plagued with longing for someone to share his existence with. He no longer wanted to be alone. He craved someone to spend his time with, someone to think about and experience what mortals and gods alike called love. He wanted a queen. With the time he had on his hands, he prepared himself to scour the mortal realm as well as Olympus, to search under the invisibility his helm allowed him. Soon he was walking the realms, invisible to all creatures, observing, searching for his queen.

____

Being the daughter of Demeter wasn’t easy. The goddess hovered over you, making sure you were doing your duties properly as the goddess of vegetation. Being a goddess yourself was only made difficult by your mother. She needed perfection. You worked diligently to hone your powers, urging plantlife to grow to your will and learning about the time before the gods. You spent every day under her guidance, until she was finally satisfied with your performance. She’d finally stopped pushing you about a century ago, now simply watching with no commentary or instructions.

Today was finally the day you’d be able to have time completely alone outside your quarters. You wandered, stopping in a beautiful meadow. The sight made your heart swell with joy. Lush, soft grass stretched as far as you could see, flowers of all colors blanketing the area. From bright, vibrant sunshine yellow to deep cerulean and mulberry. Some of the lone flowers stood tall enough to touch your hips as you floated through the greenery. It was serene, peaceful. Your chest felt light, finally you were free from your mother’s harsh gaze to relax, all alone.

As you finally decided you’d return, you thought of the beauty of the area. It didn’t take long for you to find a few choice blooms to pick and carefully pluck them from the ground. Keeping them alive would be effortless from your amount of training. You’d keep them in your chambers, a memory of the feelings you experienced here. Satisfied with your choices, you took a final glance around you and began your return.

You only made it a few steps when suddenly the ground began to quake. Only a horse’s length from your feet, you watched wide-eyed as the ground split open to a huge chasm, chunks of earth tumbling into the void. A golden chariot pulled by four beautiful black stallions emerged from the fissure, pulling to an abrupt halt next to you. A raven-haired man stood proud in the chariot, one hand extended out toward you. His face showed no emotions, his dark obsidian eyes tired and sad, a scar curved under his right eye and light scruff adorning his chiseled jaw.

You shrunk away from his hand, unsure of his identity or the reason for such a surprise visit. “Who are you?” you ask warily, your eyes narrowing slightly. “I am Hades, god of death and wealth. Your mother would know me as Aidoneus.” Your eyes widened in shock. No wonder you didn’t know who this is. Hades rarely left the Underworld, and hasn’t in the past thousand or so years according to what you’d heard from your mother. Why was he here of all places? Sensing your apprehension, he reached out for you once more.

“Please, my sweet, come with me to the Underworld.” Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion. You weren’t entirely sure why the god of death wanted you, but you didn’t want to find out. Shaking your head, you took a few tentative steps backward. “I...don’t want to go with you…” The idea of abandoning your duties was absurd. You were a goddess, and your mother would be absolutely furious if she found out you’d gone with Hades and vanished to the underworld. Not to mention how your family might feel about your sudden disappearance.

A loud cry of your name had you snapping your head toward the source. A beautiful woman donning golden armor wielding a spear was sprinting toward you, her brown curls pulled tight into a woven plait down her back. “Athena!” You called to her as you began to run, but you were lifted off your feet before you could take a second step. In a blur of motion you found yourself in Hades’ golden chariot, a strong arm around your waist holding you tight to the god’s side. He peered down at you with those deep dark eyes as the chariot descended into the chasm.

“I am sorry, my love. But coming with me was never your choice to make.” You looked upward, watching as the earth closed above you. Panicked, you struggled in Hades’ grasp, but he was too strong for you to escape. “Please, don’t fight me.” You shot the god a glare that could kill, tears streaming down your face. “I never asked to be taken! Why? Why have you stolen me away?” A heaved sigh escaped his lips. “I will explain, my love, but for now,” he brings his other hand up and taps your forehead with two fingers, “Sleep.” Your eyelids droop, and your consciousness fades to black.

____

He had hoped you’d come with him willingly. Of course, he knew the chances of that happening were rather slim. Confiding in Zeus about his newfound feelings for you may have been a bad idea for him, considering he was the one to come up with this ridiculous plan. The god of the sky was supposed to be distracting most of the other gods and goddesses with a meeting, though it isn’t a surprise that Athena had managed to slip away. He was rather lucky to have been able to escape Athena without direct confrontation. He may be a powerful god, but Athena was the goddess of war strategy and wisdom. She could probably fight Zeus himself and find a way to come out victorious.

But now, as he gaze down at your sleeping form in his bed, he can’t help but feel it was worth the trouble. You were absolutely gorgeous, a beauty to rival Aphrodite, though he’d never say it aloud for fear of the woman’s jealous revenge. He watched the rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted ever so slightly with your breath. He wants so badly to kiss you, to hold you and cherish you, to worship you the way you should be. But he wants you to accept him and love him of your own accord. He’d made that decision from the first time he laid eyes on you. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaving you to rest.

____

It felt like you hadn’t even been asleep for a second, like you had only just closed your eyes. But you definitely weren’t in the chariot anymore, and Hades was nowhere to be seen. Sitting up, you took in your surroundings. You lay on a large bed covered in fine pelts and furs on the wall furthest from the door. The room itself is large enough to fit at least three chariots and room to spare. Cool blue floated around the room, candles inset in the walls lit with cerulean fire, emitting a soft glow and shadows dancing in the light. The room was relatively empty, save for the armor on the wall along with a two-pronged scepter and a helm. There was no question in your mind where you were.

The large wooden door creaked as it opened, the King of the Underworld himself standing in the doorway. You glared as he made his way over to you and sat on the edge of the bed. “Why am I here, Hades?” You absolutely meant for the edge to come through in your voice, letting out your aggression in the most passive way possible. You hoped the tinge of fear you felt hadn’t shown through as well. As much as you didn’t like being taken against your will and hated Hades for it, you didn’t want to get into a fight with the god of death.

“Please, my name is Shouta. The mortals call me Hades. And you’re here because I’ve fallen in love with you, sweet goddess.” His voice was gentle, apologetic even. “The kidnapping was Zeus’s idea. I only went along with it because I knew my sister would never let me have you if I asked. I know how she is with her children.” You gave a small huff and pulled your knees into your chest, eyes still on the god. “Talking to me first was always an option, you know.” His shoulders shook as he chuckled. “My apologies. I should have talked to you first.” 

Apprehensively, you asked the question you were sure you already knew the answer to. You tore your eyes away from him, suddenly the furs underneath you were the most interesting thing in the world. “When can I go back?” His hand appeared in front of you, and you didn’t flinch or move away as his calloused palm cupped your face gently, making you look up into his dark eyes. “I’m sorry, my love. But I can’t let you return yet.” You gave a small nod, and he pulled his hand from your face as he stood. “Walk with me?”

His eyes were hopeful, waiting for the answer he wanted. If you declined, would he force you to go with him anyway? You squeezed your knees further into you, giving an indirect ‘no’ to test his reaction. He let out a small sigh, “I see. If you need anything, you can call for me.” He moved to walk out of the room, not halfway to the door when you stopped him. “Actually...um...I think a walk would be okay.” Slowly, you got up and walked over to him, and he gave a small smile before leading you out of the room.

The underworld was nothing like you thought it would be.

Hades - or rather, Shouta - led you on a tour of all three realms of the Underworld on the boat steered by Charon, the ferryman that delivered souls to the three parts of the Underworld. The Elysian Fields were gorgeous, mirroring daytime in the mortal realm with lush greenery and bright sunshine. This part was reserved for the mortals that were exceptionally heroic in their lifetime. Good people who lived lives giving to the people that needed it with no expectation to be repaid. All the souls here were happy, either playing or relaxing with each other in this afterlife.

The next part was the Asphodel Fields. This realm was darker, stuck in a deep limbo but beautiful all the same. A bright full moon sat high in the sky, the ground littered with luminous teal crystals. These souls were shadows of themselves, normal mortals that made mistakes and loved and lived their lives as best they could. They now live a mirrored life here, as a shadowed version of themselves. It was not a sad existence, but one that the mortal souls could be satisfied with.

As you rode the boat with Shouta on the river Phlegethon toward Tartarus, your body began to shake and your breath shallowed. You could feel the foul energy seeping into the air the closer you got. This was where the worst of the worst were kept prisoner. This realm locked a wicked soul in a loop of punishment and suffering. He looked down at you and wrapped an arm securely around your waist, and you peered up into his black orbs. “Tartarus is not a place I enjoy taking you, but I do intend on making you my Queen. You will need to see it even from a distance. I promise, you are safe.”

With a nod, he turns his attention back toward the bow. The closer you got to Tartarus, the more you began to feel fear. Despite the river of fire and the heat pouring from the banks, your body shook. The sheer bloodlust, anger, resentment, and malice pouring from the shoreline was enough to make your heart race. You may be a goddess, but you are young and weak compared to the god next to you. You feel yourself pressing into Shouta more as you float past the shore. The sights before you are horrific, if only because of the souls that are there.

You’d learned about the war between the gods and the titans early on in your life, and now here you were seeing the titans for yourself. They were enormous. Even on their knees, bound in chains thicker than the largest tree trunk, made from Adamantine the metal of the gods, they towered like mountains. They were monstrous, some with more heads than you could count, some with extra limbs, some with animalistic traits and some purely demonic. The sound of the chains rattling rang through the entire realm as a few lunged out toward the boat, only to be stopped short by the chains. 

You jumped several times, fear consuming you. Shouta held you close, his arm tight around your shoulders as you clung to him. Confidence and power radiated off his form as he raised his other arm, the chains around the titans tightening and drawing into the ground with a flick of his wrist. He leaned down and whispered into your ear. “You are safe, my love. They cannot hurt you.” You calmed a bit with Shouta next to you, securing you to him and keeping you safe.

The ferry floated along and soon you were out of the realm of Tartarus, back at the palace grounds that the god lived in. The building was beautiful, built like the temples the mortals built for the gods. However, the stone it was made from was not white but black, polished to a beautiful shine that reflected the cool blue glow from the misty realm. This area was not in any of the three parts of the afterlife. It was the god of death’s personal realm. 

The large temple sat high on a rocky hill, a staircase carved into the cliff face that led down to the five rivers that course through the underworld, all of them parallel each other until they branched off. The realm itself was magical in its own right. It seemed to be an enormous cave, huge stalactites hung from the ceiling, which was shrouded in deep blue mist that sparkled and mimicked the night sky. It was so high even the largest and lowest stalactites hung miles above the ground. The ground was all black earth, void of vegetation but full of life all the same, the scent of upturned earth and rain filling your senses. 

You ogled at the beauty of it all, despite the darkness. You hadn’t taken the time to observe before the tour, but now that you could you almost didn’t want to look away. You felt the warmth of Shouta’s body as he pressed against your back, a hand gently taking your chin and directing your head up to look at the misty abyss. “Would you like to know what sparkles through the mist?” You gave a small nod. Though the mist was thick, there was something sparkling from far above it that made up the constellations in the sky of the mortal realm.

He stretched an arm out, palm up as if to catch something. The star you recognised as Polaris shone brightly then faded, and the glimmering speck fell from the fog, landing square in Shouta’s palm. It was a large gem, sparkling against the darkness. You traced your fingers along its ragged edges, and it floated back up to its place when you dropped your hand. It was then you remembered that Hades was not only the god of death. He was the god of wealth, of earthly riches, precious gems and metals that mortals sought to obtain.

Shouta’s voice was smooth and deep in your ear, his body still pressed up to yours. “Let us go inside, my love. It is time to rest. Tomorrow, I will take you to see Cerberus.” You let your body relax into him, relishing in the safety of his embrace. Giving a small nod, you let the raven-haired god guide you into the palace. He led you to a hot spring in the back of the palace, the large steaming pool set deep in the ground and illuminated by blue flame candles. He left you alone to bathe, and you relaxed into the water as you reflected on the recent developments.

Despite kidnapping you, the god clearly harbors no ill intentions toward you. He’d even revealed that the whole thing was, in fact, your father’s idea. He’s kind, sweet, nothing like the angry and cruel god the mortals seem to fear. And he radiates power, his strength clear even when he first appeared to you in the field. He suppresses his overwhelming prowess around you, you’d realised. It became clear just how powerful a god he is when he took you through Tartarus. As powerful as he is he’s gentle toward you, compassionate and caring, dare you say loving. He did claim to have fallen in love with you.

Still, you had duties as a goddess, though your mother was more than capable of handling it on her own. The only reason you had duties is because you are the daughter of gods. You wondered briefly what she was thinking right now, if she knew you were gone, if Athena had informed her of your current placement. You would have to wait to find out. Until then, you would enjoy your time here. The Underworld is beautiful, and mostly peaceful, disregarding Tartarus. If Shouta means to make you his Queen, maybe you could learn to love the man as you’ve come to love the realm he rules. 

And of course, the god himself was rather handsome. His deep obsidian eyes held eons of emotion. Strength, power, loneliness and longing. And when he looked at you, you could tell he was sure he loved you, his eyes full of pure adoration. His long raven locks framed his face perfectly, the onyx crown he wore nearly invisible in his dark tresses. His jawline was strong, sharp, his ivory skin seemingly glowing blue in the atmosphere of the Underworld. The robes he wore hung loose around his frame, but it wasn’t hard to tell his body was strong and well built. He was a god, after all. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to see him in all his glory.

You finished your bath and fell asleep in the same bed as the god, your backs to each other and plenty of room between you. You only knew him for a single day, but you trusted him with your immortal life. When you woke up, Shouta took you to see Cerberus like he said he would. The dog sat proud just inside the entrance, the gate closer to resembling a cave entrance than an actual gate. Cerberus had his own wide perch above the ground to look down and watch the entrance closely, his job as gatekeeper being taken just as seriously as Shouta took his job as king of the Underworld.

Reaching the river bank, Shouta stepped out and held his hand out to you, helping you out of the riverboat after him. Soon the two of you were approaching the three-headed beast, and the closer you got the more you understood just how large Cerberus is. Sitting on his haunches, his shoulders towered far above your head. You’d have to climb up onto his back to reach his three heads. As the two of you approached, the hound turned his heads and bowed low, muzzles nearly in the dirt with a low growl emanating from him. 

Shouta, with a hand at the small of your back, walked up to the beast and placed a hand on the middle head, slowly petting up and down in between his eyes. You could hear the whoosh of his large tail behind him. He may be the guard dog to the Underworld, but he was still a dog, you supposed. “Hello, old friend. Meet your future Queen.” The head closest to you lifted, a large huff blowing in your face from his snout, before his nose twitched as he sniffed at your hair and face. You giggled, the air tickling your neck and face, as you reached up and held the large head in your hands and kissed above his nose.

“Such a sweet boy, aren’t you?” The hound’s tail swished harder and one of his front paws tapped against the ground, his body almost dancing at the praise and attention. Mindlessly, you let your hand pet at his fur as you observed the other two heads. Each one seemed to have a different personality. The one you were giving attention to was happy and jumpy, constantly sniffing and licking you. The one in the center was calm and collected, stoic even, eyes trained on the entrance as Shouta pet it. The furthest from you seemed angry, a low growl a near constant as his gaze was focused on the cave entrance. 

“Show her a little respect won’t you? It won’t kill you.” The angry head huffed before turning its gaze to you, giving a short bow, and with a snarl turning his attention back to the entrance. As interesting as guarding the gate seems, the only one that actually entered through the gate was Hermes. You watched as the god zoomed in and out, delivering souls to the dock, sending those who could pay off with Charon as he rowed them to their respective placements. You doubted any soul would be able to leave. They’d be spotted and caught easily, if Cerberus had anything to say about it.

Several months passed while you were down in the Underworld, staying by Shouta’s side through whatever he needed to do. No matter how many times you travelled through the underworld with Shouta, you never got enough of the beauty of it all. Sometimes he’d take you through the Asphodel Fields, deep into the crystal forests.  He walked with you through the fields with a warm hand at the small of your back, gently guiding you where you had yet to roam. The longer you stayed, the more you found yourself wanting to be around the god.

Any time he needed to visit Tartarus, you’d join him, and he’d keep you tucked into his side the whole time. You felt safe in his hands. Lately you’d been cuddling closer to him at night, longing for his embrace. His rather thick arms would curl around your waist and shoulders, pulling you tight to his chest. You'd wake up to the god’s deep obsidian eyes on your face, his gaze soft as he told you how beautiful you are or how thankful he was that he could wake up next to you. He’d leave soft kisses on your forehead and cheeks, thick fingers rolling shapes into your skin. 

It was those little intimate moments that had you falling, very possibly in love, with the King of the Underworld. When he’d run his hands down your arms and whisper his affections. When he’d teach you about the workings of the Underworld while you pet Cerberus’s head. In the bath when he’d wash you after a long day, never advancing further than a chaste kiss to your shoulder and neck. The lingering, longing, loving gaze he set on you while you rode the riverboat to the different realms. In no time at all you’d realized you’re happy here.

Now, you both stood at the gate with Cerberus once again. One head was nuzzling up against you, the other two focused on the entrance as you and Shouta pet the happy dog. You’d learned that while the center wasn’t averse to physical touch, he preferred to be left alone. The angry one had become less growly and aggressive toward you, which you supposed was progress. Though you were sure if you ever attempted to leave the Underworld, Cerberus would stop you regardless. Not that you wanted to leave.

A whoosh of wind rushed past you and suddenly Hermes was standing on the other side of Shouta, a wide grin plastered on his face as he leaned on the god’s shoulder. “What’s up, Sho?” His hypnotic green eyes wandered over to you and his eyebrows raised as his grin widened. “So this is miss Persephone, is it?” He held a hand out for you to shake. “It’s good to meet you.” Tentatively, you reached out and took his hand, shaking it before you asked the question burning in your mind. 

“Sorry, but why did you just call me Persephone?” A moment of realization hit the blonde. “OH! Yeah, you’ve been called Persephone by the mortals, as well as the rest of Olympus. The Bringer of Destruction. Fitting for the Queen of the Underworld, isn’t it?” Your breath quickened and eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “Why would they call me that? I haven’t done anything!” Shouta narrowed his eyes at the god. “Hizashi, what’s this about?” He leaned away with his hands up in mock surrender.

“Hey, it wasn’t me. When Demeter found out her daughter was missing she abandoned her duties up in Olympus. The mortal realm has slowly been changing ever since she left, slowly becoming cold and barren. It’s not pretty. Your other siblings are trying their best to uphold Demeter’s abandoned chores but...they aren’t their mother.” Shouta slipped an arm over your shoulder, tucking you into his side, and you clung to him in your increasingly distressed state, relishing in the safety his arms often held for you. The two gods talked as you tried to ground yourself.

“How much does Demeter know?” A high-pitched hum rang from the blonde. “Well Zeus, Athena and I are the only ones who know you took her. I believe Hestia, Hera, and Poseidon know she’s here but not how she got here, and the rest just don’t know anything. Zeus made Athena swear not to say anything, but considering she’s his favorite it may be only a matter of time before she confesses to Demeter with no repercussions. There’s also a possibility Aphrodite and Eros know for reasons that should be obvious to you.”

While they spoke your mind was reeling. You never thought anything of your mother’s hovering, but she’d abandoned her duties up in Olympus just because you’d vanished. What did that even mean? And now that the mortal realm was suffering, would you be punished for it? Would you be blamed for your mother’s absence? 

____

“Do I have to go back to Olympus?” Shouta could hear the slight panic and sadness in your voice, and it made his grip around you just a bit tighter. Both their eyes flicked over to you, Shouta’s gaze soft and concerned. Hermes - Hizashi - gave a kind smile. “So far, nothing’s been decided. Zeus is pretty adamant about keeping this whole thing discreet, so for now you can stay here with Sho.” You seemed to relax in his arms, but Shouta could tell you were still stressed about the whole situation. 

“Thanks ‘Zashi.” The blonde nodded, then zipped away and returned to his duties as the messenger god. Shouta looked back down at you and he could see the tension in your face. Eyebrows slightly scrunched, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you chewed on it, crossed arms and hands clutching your biceps. He’d almost call it adorable if he couldn’t feel just how stressed you were, leaning your body into him like a cat seeking shelter from the rain. His arm slipped down to your waist as he guided you back to the ferry. 

It didn’t take long for the both of you to be back at the temple. He sat you on the bed then kneeled in front of you, rough hands gently holding your own, calloused thumbs massaging circles into your skin. “My love, you are upset.” He watched and listened as you poured out your worries, all of them fears of whether or not the mortal realm would survive, if you were to be punished for your mother’s actions, if your mother would punish you herself for disappearing. He reassured you that he wouldn’t let anyone punish you for anything, that he’d protect you with his life. 

He had already vowed to himself never to let anything happen to his precious Queen. He is not a violent god, but he would hunt down any soul that dared so much as a wrong thought about you, vowing that there would be hell to pay. If he ever let something happen to you, he swore he’d never leave the Underworld again, and instead trap himself in Tartarus indefinitely. Eventually, he would express his devotion to you, his undying love and loyalty, but for now all you needed to know was that you were safe with him.

His heart nearly skipped a beat when your eyes filled with tears, voice breaking as you cried about not wanting to leave the Underworld, not wanting to leave his side. You’d grown to love the realm for all it had, as well as the man who ruled over it. He knew as well as you did that you would eventually have to return to Olympus, and there was no guarantee you would ever come back. Well, there was one, but he would never suggest it to you for it was almost cruel. It kept you connected to this realm, like a chain to an anchor.

But then you had to go and ask.

____

You could see the turmoil behind his dark irises. He was thinking, and thinking hard. “Sho...is there any way for me to come back?” His jaw clenched, something you’d come to recognize as a signal of stress for the god of death. “What do you mean, love? You could return any time you like.” You squeezed his hands, willing him to listen. “I mean permanently, Shouta. If somehow my mother refuses to let me return, is there a way to tie me to you? To make sure I need to return no matter what?” 

His usually calm features twisted in surprise, eyes wide and jaw clenched tight, his hands gripping your own. But the shock only lasted a moment before he was relaxing again. “My love, there is a way. But it is not kind to you, to force you to return here.” The sadness at that statement was clear in his eyes. He didn’t want to think of it, but the possibility for you to never want to return to him was there. Your eyebrows furrowed deeply and you ripped your hands away from his, planting your palms on either side of his face and forcing him to look deep into your eyes.

“I want to return here, Shouta, to you. Look into my soul and tell me I’m lying to you.” His dark onyx stared into you, and you stared back. He would know your sincerity, whether he wanted to or not. He had to know how much you truly cared, how far you’d fallen since that day in the meadow when he scooped you up into his golden chariot. You had to make him know. He didn’t protest when you began to pull him closer, leaning in until your lips ghosted over each other.

You’d never been this close before. He never advanced on you, never made you uncomfortable, never forced anything on you. He refused to force even the smallest things on you, like placing a hand on your waist or your shoulder, always asking permission and making sure you were okay first and foremost. Maybe it was just because of how gentle he is with you, or the fact that he’s the sweetest deity you’d met. Maybe it was the work of Eros. But you were no doubt in love with Shouta.

When your lips connected it was like a wave of heat crawled over your body, a spark igniting flame that rolled through your veins. You fit perfectly together, molding to each other in a sweet, passionate kiss. His own hands found purchase on your waist and neck, gentle caresses holding you close. Finally pulling away, you were both breathless, sucking in air through shuddered breaths and adrenaline. His voice came through heavy and thick with swirling emotions. “There is a way to keep you here, but will you wait and think about the decision before it is made?”

You knew what he was doing. He was preparing himself for what, in his mind, is an inevitable rejection from you. You also understood that he was taking you greatly into consideration, thinking about you and your happiness first. And that’s why you knew you loved him. Because you cared about him before yourself. Loving each other more than yourselves was something you shared. “Tell me now, my King, and I promise I’ll think about it.”

He sighed, but you couldn’t tell if it was from relief, sadness, or stress. Regardless, he explained to you the magic of the Underworld, and that if you were to eat a pomegranate seed from the realm you’d be compelled to return, whether you wanted to or not. You gave a nod and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you, Shouta. I will think about it. And you’ll know my answer when it comes time for me to return to Olympus.” He nodded, clearly grateful that you’d heed his words. However you fully intended to eat a seed when asked to return to Olympus. You had already made up your mind, and nothing could change it.

____

Waking up every day to see your face was a blessing for the god of death. He loved that you’d become comfortable with him, that you curled into his side while you slept. He adored your half-lidded, sleepy eyes when you first woke up in the morning. He adored your mussed hair before you combed it out and pulled it into a loose braid down your shoulder. Everything you did made him adore you even more, everything about you was the most beautiful thing to him. 

He loved all of you, all that you did and said, every little detail of your existence. And he made sure you knew, whispering sweet nothings as he held you in bed, praising your beauty while he bathed with you. Every morning he watched your gorgeous eyes flutter open and made known his gratitude for being able to hold you so close. You never said much yourself, but he’d never have it any different. Your movements were enough for him. He lived for the little gestures and physical touches. The way you’d cling to him while you were out, how you’d hug him close at night. How you’d lean into his chest while you bathed together, or run your fingers through his hair when you relax in bed.

But he hated what you did to him, when you’d get close and squish your body up against him, when he felt your soft skin under his rough palms. He hated the feelings being with you unlocked, the filthiest parts of his mind coming to light. He wanted to ruin you in the best way, to make you his forever. He wants to worship every inch of you, and watch as you unravel beneath him. Late at night while you were fast asleep he’d gaze at your body, eating up every bit of exposed skin and letting his imagination run rampant. Tears falling down your face from pure overwhelming pleasure, sweet sounds pouring from your kiss-swollen lips, legs quivering and fingers clawing at the bed beneath you.

Tonight was no different as his eyes raked over your slumbering form. He could feel himself hardening just at the sight of you, and it drove him insane. He was slightly disappointed in himself for allowing something like lust to affect him so heavily. But it did, and he had to take care of it.

____

You were only half awake when you heard a soft curse and felt Shouta shift in bed behind you. When you rolled over to curl into him, you confirmed he wasn’t there and it woke you up rather quickly. Still a tiny bit groggy, you got up and went to search for him through the temple. Really, there weren’t very many places to search. It wasn’t long before you ended up outside the bathing room, but something stopped you before you stepped through the curtained entryway. 

You could hear heaved breaths and soft curses from inside, the light slosh of water muffling a lot of the sounds. The sounds which were coming from none other than Shouta. You slowly pulled the curtain back, just barely, and peeked in. The sight before you made your thighs squeeze together and heat build in your stomach. The god was leaning on the edge of the small pool, head thrown back and his lower half below the water. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he was doing, with his hand submerged and the muscles in his arm flexing and pumping slowly.

You’d be lying if you denied how much you wanted him. You craved him in the worst way, wanted to touch his bare skin and feel the muscles in his back tense under your fingers. You wanted to see him lose himself and ravage you, to watch as he let his more primal instincts take over. The only problem you saw was how you would approach the subject, especially when your lustful feelings were becoming very hard to ignore. But now, you had just found the perfect opportunity.

Shouta’s back was mostly turned toward the curtains, so it wasn’t hard for you to slip into the room unnoticed. Silently, you padded up behind him and knelt. He was still pumping himself below the water, whispering filthy words and your name under heavy breaths. You reached out and grabbed his shoulders, making him jump, but you quickly shushed him. “It’s me, my King.” He froze, his entire body tensing and his shoulders rising with shuddered breaths. 

“I-I’m sorry, my love...I-” You released your grasp and leaned over to look in his eyes, silencing him. “No, Shouta. Don’t be sorry. We may be deities but we are afflicted with emotion, same as any mortal.” Leaning down, you kissed and nipped below his jaw. “Come to bed, and we can help each other with those emotions.” He turned his head to you, brows slightly furrowed and concern laced in his voice. “You don’t have to help me, sweet girl. You shouldn’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “Did I not just say we’d help each other?” Surprise was evident on his face as he gazed up at you from the water. You leaned close to his face, lips just grazing each other, and stared deep into his eyes. “If I didn’t want to do it, I wouldn’t have offered.” Just as he pressed forward, you leaned back and stood, leaving the god shocked and wanting more. “I’ll be in bed, if you feel like joining me.” You swayed your hips a little more as you disappeared behind the curtains, a small tease to lure the god.

Back in the room, you stood at the foot of the bed, back to the door as you waited for him. You made it abundantly clear what you wanted, that you knew what you were asking for, and knew what you were offering. The door creaked open, and you could feel the heat of Shouta’s gaze on your body. He was on you nearly instantly as the door shut, his hands roaming your body and lips ghosting over your neck. His voice was raspy, heavy with lust and want. “Are you sure you want this?” You pushed your hips back into him, feeling his hardness through your thin robes. 

A sighed ‘yes’ passed your lips, and it was all the confirmation the god needed. His hands came up and pulled the fabric off your body, the cloth wrapped around his waist following soon after. His thick fingers pinched and pulled at your body, relentless in their attack on your skin. His touch floated over you, sending electricity buzzing through you. Lust built like a wildfire, spreading and burning your blood as it coursed through your veins. You leaned back into him, pressing yourself against his strong body as he peered down yours and left kisses on your neck and shoulder. Your body felt impossibly hot, arousal pulling you deep into him as he traced your body with feather light touches.

Suddenly he grasped your hips tight, turning you and pushing you backward onto the bed. He stayed standing, and you both took a good look at each other for the first time. Yes, you often bathed together, but your back was always to his chest, and the lower halves of your body were submerged. He never touched you anywhere other than your back, shoulders and hair when he helped to wash you, and you never turned to look at him. But now, as you looked up, there was no doubt in your mind you were looking at a god. 

He looked as if he was sculpted from marble, ivory skin pulled taut over chiseled muscles. Scars littered his body, discolored lines carved into his skin, each holding a story. Your breath hitched in your throat when your eyes landed on his cock. You may be a goddess, but if you weren’t prepared, he would undoubtedly destroy you. You felt more than heard the deep chuckle he let out, a devilish smirk set on his lips. “Don’t worry, little one. I won’t break you,” you lifted your eyes to meet his, “Yet.” You swallowed thickly, anticipation building in your chest. He climbs up and slots himself between your legs, leaning over you as his hair hangs in curtains around your face, drawing your eyes to the man above you.

“My love, you can tell me to stop any time.” The look in his eyes told you just how serious he was. He would do anything you asked of him without a second thought. You gave a nod and looped your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him down into a deep, sweet kiss. Your bodies pressed into each other, your skin burning against his as every cell in your body longed for his touch. Both your tongues poked out and melded together, tasting and savoring each other while his hands roamed down your body and your fingers massaged into his scalp. 

When he finally pulled away you both panted, hot breaths fanning over each other’s face. One of his hands trailed down and gripped your thigh, fingers digging into your plush flesh as he ventured toward your heated core. He gathered the slick at the apex of your thighs, groaning at both how wet you had become and the little breathy moan you let out as he pushed a thick digit into your sopping folds. Soon he was adding a second, the burn quickly subsiding into pleasure as his thick fingers curled and scissored, stretching you and preparing you for his cock.

The pleasure was intense for you, never having experienced it like this before. In the 200 years of your life you’d never lain with a man, but there was nothing your mother could do to stop you from learning to pleasure yourself. She knew nothing about what you did alone in your chambers. But this was something different entirely. Shouta’s fingers reached deeper than yours could, stroking every sensitive spot inside you that you’d never known existed. Your legs shook as that familiar coil built in your abdomen, though much faster than you could build it on your own. 

Shouta cooed praises into your ear, that knot beginning to fray the more he focused his attention on that gummy spot on your walls. His thumb slick with your juices reached up and rubbed at the little nub between your folds, and it only took a few tight circles for you to fall apart on his fingers with a moan. He drew out your orgasm, curling his fingers into you until you were choking on sobs from the overwhelming pleasure, your thighs trying to clamp down on his hand and nails digging crescent shapes into his wrist.

You whimpered as he pulled his fingers from you, moaning softly as you watched him suck your essence off his fingers with a lewd groan. He leaned down and pulled you into another heated kiss, and you could taste yourself on his lips. “Are you ready for me?” His breaths are heavy, hands gripping your hips tight, jaw set as he tries to compose himself. “Yes, my love. I’m ready.” He kisses you softly as he pushes into you slowly, swallowing up the little mewls dripping from your lips. One hand is rubbing at your swollen clit and the other toying with your breast to distract you from the stretch of his thick cock.

Your own hands are dragging down his back, trying to ground yourself as the god sank all the way into your cunt, stilling as he bottoms out completely. You’re both taking heaving breaths as your walls flutter, adjusting to him. Your legs are quaking and you mewl softly, tugging at his hair. “Please, Shouta, move.” He pulls his hips back and slowly thrusts back in, dragging the head of his cock along your sensitive walls deliciously. He starts a slow pace, languidly driving himself deep inside you. He leans down and kisses at your neck, the angle change making you throw your head back and moan. 

You purposely clench down on him, and he bucks his hips up into you with a curse under his breath. His hands come back to your hips, fingers digging harshly into your skin as he growls. He pulls back until only the tip of his cock sits inside you, and snaps his hips forward, punching all the air from your lungs as he sets a brutal pace. Shouta doesn’t react as your nails claw furiously at his back, only yanks your body into him as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with every thrust. Deep guttural growls and moans pour from his lips, the sound of wet skin slapping skin and the sweet, salty smell of sex permeating the room.

The little air you’re able to suck in is expelled in whines and sobs, fat tears streaming from your eyes as they roll back in your skull. Your mind was so far gone with pleasure, your entire body shivering and shaking as calloused fingers rub your clit, sending you head first into a powerful orgasm. His growls deepened as he kept himself from his own release, pounding into you with reckless abandon. His voice was raspy and breathless and one hand gripped your chin, tilting you to face him as he slowed his rutting. “That’s right, little goddess. Cry for your god, for your King. Tell me, who do you belong to?”

You took a moment to breathe through a sob, barely able to think with the overwhelming sensations. He was still thrusting his hips into you, slowly, dragging along your fluttering walls and gripping your face ever so slightly harder. “Answer me, sweet girl. Who do you belong to?” He punctuated the question with a sharp snap of his hips, stealing the air from your lungs before you gasped it back in. “You! I belong to you Shouta!” He’s pounding into you again, his hand moving to squeeze gently at your neck as he drives his cock deep into you over and over again.

“Yes, you’re mine. All mine forever. My goddess, my Queen, my wife, my love.” He lets out a loud moan, rubbing at your clit furiously. “Cum for me again, pretty thing. Cum.” Your entire body thrashes with the intensity of your orgasm, electricity jolting through you, your body answering Shouta’s command as if it knew you belonged to him, just as you both had said. You scream a moan as clear liquid splashes over his thighs and abdomen, and he fucks into you relentlessly as he chases his own release. With a long, low growl he shoves himself up against your cervix, pumping his thick seed into you and painting your insides white.

He keeps his cock buried deep inside you as he wraps his arms under your waist and rolls over onto his back, holding you tight to him as you lay boneless on his chest. You’re panting heavily, a sheen of sweat covering the both of you as he rubs his palms up and down your back. Fatigue tugs at your mind, your eyelids drooping as your breathing finally evens out. You feel Shouta shift your body with ease, pulling himself out of you with a hiss and lifting you into his arms. 

You nuzzle into his chest as he walks, and soon you’re in the warm water of the bath, sitting on the submerged ledge between Shouta’s legs and leaning back into his chest. You can feel the water running down your arms as his hands cup and pour it over you. His rough hands are gentle as they run over your body, slowly cleaning you and massaging your aching muscles. You’re drifting in and out of consciousness, barely registering being carried once again before being laid down on the bed again. Shouta’s strong arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest as you relax in his hold.

Barely conscious, you kiss his chest lightly, getting a kiss to your temple from the god. His deep voice is tired, but happy, gravelly from earlier. “I love you, (y/n).” You echo the sentiment, barely a whisper, and somewhere in your mind you wonder if he heard you. The question vanishes as quick as it had appeared, and you drift off to sleep.

*

***About 2 months later***

*

It was early, much earlier than you’d normally wake up, when someone showed up at the temple. You were in bed with Shouta, and he awoke at the presence of other gods. Yes, gods. The both of you went to see who it was that garnered his attention. Hizashi - Hermes - stood at the top of the staircase with another god and a goddess. You recognized both. The god with spiky blonde hair and eyes red as blood was Ares, god of war. The goddess had hair black as Shouta’s pulled high on the back of her head. The front of her red dress draped low, down to her navel, her shapely figure complimented by the soft fabric that was no doubt woven from silk. Aphrodite.

The three stood at attention as the two of you walked out, the three eyeing you with very different looks on their faces. Hizashi regarded you fondly, like old friends reconnecting. Ares was angry and guarded, as always, and Aphrodite had a glint in her eyes that you couldn’t quite discern. The ravenette turned to the god of war and nodded, and Ares visibly relaxed, no longer ready for a fight. Hizashi strolled over and leaned on Shouta’s shoulder again, a wide grin plastered on his face. “Hiya, Sho.” The blonde nodded his head at you. “(y/n).” 

You smiled back at him, greeting him kindly before turning to the other two and giving a short bow. Aphrodite returned it, but Ares almost sneered. You weren’t really surprised.  “Why are you three here, Hizashi?” Shouta asked sternly. The blonde seemed to deflate slightly as he walked back over to the other two and stood with them before speaking. “Well, for one, Demeter knows now where her favorite daughter has disappeared to. Imagine her fury when she found out her own brother had stolen her away.” Shouta groaned, then huffed. “She’ll live.”

The blonde chuckled. “Probably. Zeus has ordered that Persephone, formerly known as Kore and given the name (y/n) by Demeter, return to Olympus indefinitely.” Your eyes widened in shock and time seemed to freeze at his words. Your heartbeat drowned out any other noise, panic swirling in your head. Indefinitely? That meant until your mother decided you could come back to Hades, and you knew the answer would be never. You couldn’t live in a world where you couldn’t come back to Shouta. 

The god could sense your distress and pulled you into a tight embrace, still discussing the arrangement with the three deities. But your mind was elsewhere. You knew what had to be done if you ever wanted to return. Heart racing, you leaned back and grabbed Shouta’s face, pulling him to meet your eyes. “Let me eat a seed, Shouta. Please.” His eyebrows knit together and his body tensed as he shook his head. “I can’t let you do that, my love. I can come visit you in Olympus instead.” But you wouldn’t have any of it. 

____

He watched as your eyes filled with tears, your voice quivering and breaking as you spoke. “No! My mother won’t let you see me! And even if I begged her she won’t allow me to return here. She won’t let me come back to you.” Fat tears rolled down your cheeks, sobs shaking your shoulders as you tried to hold them back. He hated seeing you so sad, so heartbroken. But he knew what would happen if you ate a pomegranate seed. To be fair, so did you, and you were willing to do it if it meant you could see him again.

You were willing to be compelled to return, compelled so strongly that if you didn’t return your body would fall ill and weak, pain seeping into your very bones. You would need to return here, to the Underworld, or you would suffer. You would need this realm to survive. He had explained it to you when you asked, and you’d promised you would think about it. Still, he hated the very idea of you being in pain. His mind reeled with the possibilities, and as much as he hated it, you both knew how this was going to go.

____

Staring up at the god, you waited as he lost himself in thought. You didn’t want to force his hand, but if you needed to, you would. Three other deities were present, and could probably hold him long enough for you to pull a red fruit from the earth and swallow down a seed. A deep sigh came from the raven haired god, and a large hand cupped your face as he pulled you into a sweet kiss. He leaned his forehead against yours and sighed softly before speaking, his voice low. “I won’t force you, my love. It is your choice to make.”

You let out a shaky, relieved breath and pulled away from him. Extending your arm out to your side, palm down to the earth, you willed the plant to grow. In mere seconds, a tree sprouted from the dirt, a single large pomegranate glowing with the magic of the Underworld hanging just at your face. You plucked it smoothly, then let the tree shrink back down and vanish. You cracked the fruit open and held a single seed in your palm, looking to Shouta as you took a deep breath. He gave a final nod, and you popped the seed into your mouth, swallowing it whole.

You felt the magic course through you, a piece of the Underworld itself flowing through your body and making itself a part of you. Turning to the three, you spoke, radiating the confidence of a Queen and a goddess. “You three have witnessed me consume a pomegranate seed from the Underworld of my own volition. You know that Hades has not forced anything upon me.” The three nod, acknowledging the truth in your statement. You addressed the goddess of love. “Aphrodite, I believe you can confirm that I love Shouta just as he loves me, and that it was not influenced by you or Eros but developed naturally.” 

She gave a sweet smile, nodding in confirmation. Turning back to Shouta, you wrapped your arms around him and he held you tight in a final embrace before you left for Olympus with Hermes, Ares, and Aphrodite. You peered up into his dark obsidian eyes. “I’ll be back, I promise.” He smiled down at you, adoration and love the only emotions in his gaze beside a tinge of despair. “I know you will, my Queen. If you are ever in danger, or if you long for me too much to bear, tap the ground and I will come to you.” 

You held him close, then separated and walked to Hermes, who picked you up gently and held you to his chest. Aphrodite and Ares climbed into their own chariot and set off before you. With a final glance to the god of death, you called out to him. 

“I love you Shouta.”

“I love you too (y/n).”

He and the rest of the Underworld vanished in a blur, replaced by the grand palace grounds of Olympus.

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

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@chou-maitresse

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night light

nct 1.1k words gender-neutral reader insert Reader x Kim Jungwoo FLUFF/SFW

🖤 warnings: discussions of past emotional abuse by a partner, elements of anxiety 🖤

connect with me! / masterlist

It’s always disorienting to wake up in the middle of the night, tangled in the blankets and unsure of the time.

Honestly, that special kind of disorientation is your least favorite thing. But when you’d fallen asleep with someone beside you, and wake up without anyone, it’s even worse. You sit up, hazy and rubbing sleep from your eyes, trying to suppress the requisite bolt of panic that’s shooting through your chest, painful like you’ve swallowed something sharp.

He’s gone?

He left without saying goodbye?

Why does this keep happening?

But this isn’t – this is Jungwoo, you remind yourself. He wouldn’t do that. You manage to bring yourself down from full fear to a gentle simmer of malcontent, just in time for your door to open and a slim figure to slip inside.

“Hey, what’re you doing up?” Jungwoo asks, as he shuts the door gently behind him.

You blink at him in the dim light of your novelty Apeach nightlight, as he shucks off the hoodie thrown over the worn-out shorts he wears to sleep.  

“You’re still here,” you say, before your brain can catch the thought and throw it away.

“I went to the bathroom,” Jungwoo replies, sounding a bit confused, “But I’m still here.”

The two of you are speaking softly, but whether Jungwoo whispered first or if he’s just matching your own hesitant quiet, you’re not sure. His expression is concerned, and it makes you wonder what kind of face you’re making.

“Is everything okay?” he asks.

You don’t really know what to say. The truth is ridiculous, and this relationship is really new. It doesn’t seem like the right time to unload a bunch of emotional stuff on Jungwoo, not now, at – you glance at your phone, charging by the bed – nearly three in the morning on a Sunday.

“Yeah,” you say, and even you can hear how unconvincing you sound, “Yeah, I just don’t like…waking up…alone.”

“Oh.”

Jungwoo’s face falls, and immediately, you feel like the queen of all assholes. It’s not his fault, not even a little bit, but you can’t help how you feel.

“It’s not – I would explain but it’s weird and a long story and stuff,” you say. “But I’m not mad at you.”

“I don’t think you’re mad at me. But I do want to know,” Jungwoo says, matter-of-fact.

“I’m not trying to scare you off this quickly,” you joke half-heartedly.

“If you think explaining your feelings is gonna scare me off, then I’m not doing a very good job being the boyfriend,” Jungwoo replies.

He sits down on the mattress, cross-legged and facing you, careful not to sit on your legs under the blankets. You fidget, but Jungwoo just looks at you evenly.

“It’s not that I mind waking up alone,” you say, eventually. “But if someone was there when I went to sleep, and then I wake up and they’re not there, it’s…”

“Not good,” Jungwoo guesses.

You nod.

“Why?” he prods.

“People aren’t supposed to talk about their exes a lot, in a new relationship,” you complain.

“I asked. I want to know.”

You sigh. “I guess…sometimes it takes distance and time to understand exactly how much old relationships fuck you up, right?”

“Right,” he agrees.

“My last ex used to, like…” you pause, frustrated, “He used to do this thing…”

“Is it really bad?” Jungwoo asks.

You can guess what he’s hinting at. “Nothing, um, unsavory? Just not nice.”

“What, then?”

His voice, always soft and gentle, is barely audible, like he’s giving all the metaphorical space over to you. He just sits there, chin in hand and elbow on leg, looking at you but not quite staring.

“He used to come over in the evening, and then he’d leave in the middle of the night,” you tell him.

“Why?” Jungwoo asks, understandably confused.

“Just to be an asshole,” you say. “He would…fuck, okay, he would like, make me convince him to come over? Like, I would have to beg, kind of.”

“What – what-” Jungwoo sputters, “That’s incredibly fucked up?”

“I know.”

“I know you know, but I had to say it!” Jungwoo says.

One of his hands moves down to rest on your ankle under the duvet, just gentle warm weight against you. You’re not even sure if he’s trying to ground you or himself, but you appreciate it either way.

“So he’d make me beg him to come visit. Maybe like once a month, if I was lucky. And then as soon as I fell asleep, he would get out of bed and get ready to leave,” you say. “Sometimes I would wake up on my own, and he’d be gone.”

“Which is bad enough,” Jungwoo murmurs.

You nod. “And other times, he would wake me up. I used to think it was an accident, but now I think it was on purpose. He’d wake me up so I had to watch him go. And no matter what I said, he would always leave.”

“Wow.”

Jungwoo doesn’t say anything more than that, just sitting here with his palm resting on your leg, looking thoughtfully in your direction.

“I know it doesn’t make any sense,” you say, feeling the need to fill the silence with something, hoping to high hell that Jungwoo doesn’t think you’re crazy. “It just bothers me, sometimes, still. I didn’t mention it because-”

“It’s fine, you know. That it bothers you. It would bother me too,” Jungwoo interrupts.

He scoots up the bed more, nudging you to the side so that he can settle back down next to you. He stays on top of the covers, as if leaving you some protection after baring so much (albeit metaphorically) to him.

“It’s not fine that he did that,” he adds. “That’s not fine.”

“This doesn’t mean you can’t, like, go to the bathroom,” you say. “It freaked me out a little but it had nothing to do with you.”

“I know.”

“I can handle it. I know that you’re different.”

Jungwoo nods, sinking back onto the pillow beside you. “I know.”

You’re not sure why you’re still trying to convince him, but you say, “I trust you.”

He smiles this time. “I know.”

“Okay.”

The blankets rustle and you can vaguely see Jungwoo leaning toward you in the dark, and a pair of lips smack a kiss gently to your temple nearest him.

“Thanks for tellin’ me,” he says, voice already muffled with sleep as he settles back in, “I’ll be careful, okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, “Yeah, thanks.”

Jungwoo rolls over onto his side so that his head rests against your shoulder, and within moments, he’s out again, dead to the world. He’s always so quick to fall asleep. You’re kind of jealous of it, since you know you’re going to be laying here for a while until you knock out, too.

You’re not entirely sure why your eyes are misty as you listen to Jungwoo’s even breathing, reliable inhale and exhale right next to your ear, but you can make a pretty good guess.

[gainerstories]

Fatter Exchange Student: Chapter 8

This is a community story with each chapter authored by a different writer in the gaining community. This chapter is penned by Feeder86.

Read prior chapters here.

Felix stood at the stove, frying up a nice, greasy breakfast for Sebastian, who still lay asleep in bed. The smell was filling the little kitchen area and he wasn’t the least bit surprised when Bleecker suddenly emerged from his bedroom, dressed only in his incredibly tight underwear that looked almost painted on. Maybe he should have put a shirt on before coming out here, Felix thought to himself, suddenly conscious of his own body.

“Morning,” Felix smiled cheerfully to the fat jock who was looking at him with confusion.

“I thought you had an assignment to complete last night?” Bleecker asked, rubbing his sleepy eyes as he walked, ripples of fat spreading through the rugby boy’s large gut and bouncing his pecs above. The floor thudded with his huge weight and the boards underneath cried out in protest.

“I did,” Felix nodded, turning back to his cooking. “I submitted it at about 11pm and then came straight over afterwards.”

Jokingly, Bleecker shook his head, “You’re such a nerd!” he sighed. “I never post my assignments until the very last second!”

Felix laughed, but couldn’t resist a little peek as the large, heavy man reached down into the refrigerator. His ass looked so thick and wide; even thicker and wider than last time he was over! His love-handles were bulging from this position and the guy simply looked like the sexiest, huge ball of meat that he had ever seen. No wonder Sebastian was growing so beautifully chubby living with such a hunk. He was practically heaven-sent!

“Um, I’ve got a carton of milk open already,” he called out to Bleecker, seeing that he had pulled out a brand new gallon bottle and was ripping off the lid.

Bleecker smirked, as if Felix had made the stupidest comment ever. Then he pressed the milk up to his lips and began chugging it, keeping his eyes on Felix the entire time. It was as if the big man was playing some sort of game with him, daring him to admire his massive capacity. Felix was the first to look away and Bleecker lowered the bottle, giving a small triumphant chuckle.

“I drink at least a full gallon of these every day,” he explained, pointing to the full fat milk that was now less than two thirds full. “At first I found it really hard. But now…” he paused, suddenly needing to burp, and doing so making a massive roar and rubbing his huge gut. “Now I find it easy,” he finished nonchalantly.

Awkwardly, Felix searched his brain for a response. “Is that something your rugby coach has suggested?” he asked, even though he highly doubted that that was the case, judging by how fat Bleecker seemed to be getting lately.

Bleecker laughed at the suggestion, “No,” he sniggered. “It’s definitely not something he would want me doing!” He looked interestedly at what Felix was frying up and stepped a little closer. “Nice!” he nodded in approval. “Smells good! Sebastian is a lucky boy, having you around!”

“Thanks,” Felix smiled, trying to control his arousal with Bleecker standing so close to him.

“Want a suggestion, though?” he asked, learning forwards and picking up the remaining half stick of butter left on the chopping board and throwing it into the pan. “Sebastian likes his butter!” he winked with a deep chuckle, watching the new ingredient irreversibly melt into the mix. “I’m sure he’ll thank you for it later!” the jock finally smirked, tapping Felix on his oversized butt, as though he was in the changing rooms with all of the other boys on the team.

At that touch, Felix’s arousa was now fully ignited. He turned and watched the massive monster heading back to his room, suddenly searching for something to say to keep him out here with him.

“I see you guys had pizzas for your dinner last night,” Felix called out, pointing the spatula at the cardboard boxes piled up, ready for the recycling.

Bleecker looked back and stopped walking.

“Yeah. I managed to get two extra large, four meat feast pizzas down your boyfriend last night,” he stated, looking extraordinarily pleased with himself. “So if he’s looking a little fatter this morning, you know who to thank.”

Felix went a little red. Bleecker had a way of talking to him like this sometimes, as if he knew that he was secretly trying to make Sebastian put on a little weight just like he had himself throughout his twenties. When Felix had started his first degree, some years ago now, he’d been painfully skinny, like a drainpipe. But over time, he’d lost that shape, fattened up on a diet of his own choosing: take-out, beer, late night eating. It was as if they had all conspired to transform his body into the blubbery boy he had now become. But, unlike most guys, who would have complained and tried to do something about it, Felix had found the experience to be the most erotic feeling of his life.

He thought he’d got a handle on it, managed to subdue these urges he’d had to continue fattening his own body, but then he had met Sebastian. The foreigner’s sexy, slim body had ignited his love of the contrast between them. He felt like a lazy pudgy hunk of lard next to the toned international student. Then Sebastian had visibly started to gain a few pounds and Felix had grown even more aroused, both of them seeming to pack on more and more fat as the weeks progressed. Even as he stood here, in front of Bleecker, Felix’s underwear felt incredibly tight and uncomfortable; digging into his love-handles and splitting them in two. And it felt amazing.

“Are you trying to make my boyfriend fat?” Felix joked, laughing at Bleecker’s pride at having encouraged Sebastian to eat so much last night.

Bleecker furrowed his eyebrows, as if Felix had made yet another highly stupid comment.

“Of course I am!” he stated frankly, walking back towards Felix again, until he was just as close as he had been before. “That’s what we both want, right?” he smiled flirtatiously, as if he could tell how aroused all this was making Felix. “We all want to see Sebastian growing a little bit fatter each and every day.”

Felix looked straight ahead, trying to control the massive erection he now had. If he kept standing like this, in front of the stove, Bleecker wouldn’t even have to notice. “I don’t mind…” he replied, now trying to shrug off the conversation.

Bleecker chuckled. “Liar!” he teased. “You love watching him growing fatter, just as much as I do!” The huge man’s lips were coming closer to Felix’s ear and he now spoke in only a deep whisper. “Mind, he’s not the only one I’m enjoying watching pack on a few pounds around here,” Bleecker continued, his hands starting to slide onto Felix’s love handles.

Felix’s breath quivered. The touch was so sensual, so erotic. He’d never experienced anything like it.

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, eager to keep Bleecker talking and touching him like this.

“Has anyone ever told you how genuinely fat your ass is these days?” the big man asked, sliding his strong hands below the waistband of Felix’s underwear until they both cupped his large, soft glutes. “I bet Sebastian has so much fun playing with this fat butt! We were talking about it last night, in fact...”

“Talking about what?” Felix asked in surprise. He felt his underwear being pulled down so that his chubby butt cheeks were exposed, resting now on the tight waistband of his underwear. “Talking about how fat my ass is?”

Bleecker’s nose rested upon Felix’s ear and he inhaled him in arousal, his hands sliding up and down the man’s love handles and even under his rounded, fat belly.

“Along those lines…” the rugby boy admitted, with his right hand now finding Felix’s erection and beginning its work; stroking it up and down. “We were both talking about how we want to…” he paused, as if for dramatic effect, “...make you even fatter.”

Felix suddenly felt another pair of hands on his body; one on his exposed butt cheek and the other on the furthest extent of his big, hungry tummy. He turned to look and gasped.

“Isn’t that right, Sebastian?” Bleecker asked, with a satisfied smirk.

To receive early access to Fatter Exchange Student and other exclusive stories check out the Gainer Stories Patreon.

[taetaemilktea]

Sick in the Soop (Part 2)

Summary: As the Bangtan members return back to the forest to continue their filming for “In the Soop,” Taehyung falls under the weather after catching Jimin’s cold.

Sickie: Taehyung

Caretaker: Jimin

Word Count: 1460

Hoseok was beaming from ear to ear. His hike with Namjoon had filled him with an indescribable happy energy, and he bounced down the grassy field to wake up the two youngest Bangtan members for lunch.

Jungkook was fairly easy. A quick shake of his shoulders and a tug of his blanket was all he needed. Hobi giggled at the maknae’s messy hair and sleepy voice, asking what time it was.

“Time for lunch! Come on, Yoongi-hyung is making dakgalbi.”

Jungkook moaned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. Hobi ruffled his hair.

“Come on, you better hurry. Seokjin-hyung said that if you don’t make it in time, he and Yoongi are going to eat everything!” Hoseok chuckled. Jungkook gave a huff of compliance and got up to throw on a sweatshirt and brush his hair.

Hobi moved on up to the main house to fetch Taehyung. Upon walking into their shared bedroom, Hobi smiled to see Taehyung buried under a heap of blankets. The afternoon sun shone brightly into the room, making it rather hot and uncomfortable. He wasn’t surprised to pull the comforter off of his sleeping friend and to be met with Tae’s slim, bare back.

Taehyung was known to prefer sleeping without a shirt. He loved to cuddle pillows and always felt more comforted to have his pillows (and sometimes, when lucky, one of the other members) held close to his bare chest.

“Mr. Taehyung?” Hobi laughed, pulling the blanket off more. “It’s time for lunch,” he shook Taehyung like he did Jungkook.

“Aish, you’re so warm!” Hobi moved his hand from Tae’s shoulder onto his back, feeling the warmth radiating from his body.

Taehyung barely moved in response, still more than half-asleep.

“This is why we sleep with the blinds closed, it gets too hot in here with the sun,” Hobi shook his head, attributing Taehyung’s heat to the open windows and noting to close them before they went to bed later that night.

“Come on, wake up. It’s time for lunch.”

No response.

“Yah, the food will be gone if you don’t come up to the main house soon. Besides, it’s already 2pm.”

“... m’tired,” Taehyung croaked, attempting to grasp at the comforter and pull it back over his shoulders. Hobi stood over him and frowned. Taehyung was never the easiest to wake.

“Come eat, you’ll feel better. And you don’t need that comforter, it’s really hot in here.”

Taehyung didn’t know how to tell him he was actually feeling rather cold. The moment Hoseok had pulled the comforter off, exposing his bare skin, Taehyung felt a chill run down his spine.

“Let’s go, Taehyung-ah. I’ll meet you up there,” Hobi smiled before ruffling Taehyung’s hair, as he did to Jungkook, and leaving the room.

Taehyung flopped over. He really wasn’t in the mood for eating, let alone getting out of bed. He felt run-down and had a growing sore throat. He was trying extremely hard not to admit to himself that he had caught Jimin’s cold, but it was becoming more and more difficult as he began to assess how he truly felt.

Sighing, he rolled out of bed and attempted to get ready. Maybe Hoseok was right—maybe some food would help him to feel better.

-

Taehyung approached the table and sat down next to Jimin. The boys urged him to grab a bowl of rice, but Taehyung’s throat hurt and he wasn’t ready for a big lunch.

“I’ll just have some side dishes,” he murmured, picking up a pair of chopsticks. The boys began to chat about their plans for the day, deciding on what activities they wanted to try. When it came to his turn, Taehyung shrugged.

“Maybe I’ll play some games. Or go out on the canoe.”

“Let’s go together, Taehyung-ah,” Jimin nudged him with a smile. Taehyung smiled back, but deep down, he really just wanted to spend the rest of the day taking a nap.

Thankfully, after lunch, each of the boys moved off in different directions to try out new games, toys, or sports. Taehyung, too tired to make the trip back down to the main house, slipped quietly into Jimin’s room. His sore throat was now paired with a runny nose. Taehyung was happy to see that the tissue box Jimin had used a few days before was still on the nightstand. He plucked one out of the box and miserably blew his nose.

Jimin had been right—cuddling was a stupid decision. Taehyung couldn’t help it though! His poor soulmate had looked so pale, sad, and extremely cuddle-able when he had walked into his room the first time they had come to the forest to film. Never one to pass up cuddles, Taehyung had happily wrapped his arms around Jimin without the slightest care in the world that he might get sick.

And here he was, back in the same room with the same cold Jimin had. Sighing, Taehyung flopped into the bed, snuggling up under the blanket and laying his head on the pillow. It smelled like Jimin, and Taehyung smiled. Before he knew it, he had drifted off, hoping that by the time he woke up, he’d be feeling better.

-

Jimin bounded into the upper house, excited to grab his hat so that he could join Seokjin and Namjoon out on the canoe. Pushing the sliding door to his room open, he frowned upon seeing Taehyung in his bed.

He walked up to see Taehyung fast asleep, snoring congestedly. He had taken his shirt off and had a pillow clutched to his chest. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead and his eyebrows were knit in discomfort.

Jimin placed a hand on his back and was shocked to feel Taehyung’s hot and clammy skin. The poor boy had a fever, no doubt. Jimin gently rubbed his back, aiming to wake him.

Taehyung sputtered awake with a cough when Jimin’s hand moved to his hair, running through his soft, black curls.

“Taehyungie,” Jimin whispered. “What’s up? You not feeling well? You have a fever.”

Taehyung rolled over so that he was on his back. He shook his head lightly and Jimin sat down on the bed.

“You got sick, didn’t you? This is from cuddling, isn’t it?”

Taehyung nodded, pushing the blanket off. While he had been cold earlier that morning, he was now sweltering.

“Aish, we really need to stop doing this,” Jimin laughed. He and Taehyung were known to pass colds onto one another. They couldn’t help it—they both craved physical attention when sick and were always willing to provide the other with hugs. They had spent countless days of their friendship laid together in bed playing video games or watching movies when one, or both, were under the weather.

“It’s hot,” Taehyung rolled over onto his stomach and let out a huff, which turned into a series of rough coughs.

“No, you’re hot,” Jimin chuckled at the cool springtime air in contrast to Tae’s fever. He began to rub Taehyung’s back. His bare skin was soft and smooth but radiated a fierce heat. Thankfully, Jimin had stored the cold medicine in the bedside table’s drawer and pulled some out for Taehyung while he continued to rub his back.

Taehyung, with his face buried in the pillow, let out a double of harsh sneezes.

“hH’RSHHhh!! hH’HASHH’huh!!”

“Hmm, sounds like you’re ready for this,” Jimin opened the cold medicine and popped one of the tablets out onto the bedside table. He grabbed a glass of water from the sink and came back, handing it to Taehyung who sat up and thanked Jimin. He downed the medicine, then shivered as the cool air hit his fevered, bare upper body. Jimin covered him back up with the blanket but, within minutes, he was too hot again and was throwing the blanket off with a moan.

“Poor Taetae,” Jimin rubbed his back again, hoping to soothe him back to sleep. If the cold medicine affected Taehyung in the same way it did him, Taehyung would be asleep soon and most likely for the rest of the day.

Taehyung sniffled and laid back down. He moved himself closer to the wall to make space and looked up at Jimin with wide puppy eyes.

Jimin couldn’t help but laugh.

“You want something?”

In a slight, feverish delirium, Taehyung smiled his signature boxy smile back.

“Please?”

Jimin crawled into bed.

“You’re making me late for my canoe date,” he laughed, whipping out his phone to text Seokjin and Namjoon. Taehyung just snuggled up against Jimin’s side, delighted to have someone to hold. Jimin continued to rub soft circles on Taehyung’s back and before he knew it, Taehyung had let the cold medicine overtake him and was fast asleep.

[arthur-edwards]

I have finished my first fanfic. It’s lewd and pretty long. Arthur Edwards x Female Reader. I welcome any criticism.

It’s been too long since you last saw the Constant. His busy schedule doesn’t allow for many intimate meetings with his favourite Providence operative but, finally, here he is and there you are kneeling naked in front of him. The guard down the hallway will ensure that nobody enters your office or even exits the elevator onto your floor. The two of you can be as loud as you want.

His fingers slide along your tongue while you purse your lips and suck. The feeling of pride that warms your chest when one of the world’s most powerful men smiles down at you is enough to make you swoon. Spit glosses your lips and keeps his fingers slick. Edwards palms the column straining the fabric of his pants and you notice a growing wet spot darkening the navy fabric. You suck faster, gazing up at him with doe eyes.

“Good girl. There we go,” he coos. “I think you’re ready for more. Are you ready for me, pet?”

He pulls out his fingers and your response is quick to follow.

“Yes, sir.”

The clinking of his buckle and the zzzzip of his pants sends a shiver down your spine. He pulls the waistbands down and his cock flops out as the clothing pools around his ankles. It’s obscenely large on his thin frame.

The first time you saw it was on the Isle of Sgail, and even through your mask he could see your apprehension. You hadn’t expected it to be that… substantial. He scoffed, and you had seen in his eyes how high he was on himself, but his face softened quickly. That night, he had been so gentle. In many ways, you saw a side of him that you hadn’t seen before. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to take it all, and you hadn’t, but he praised you anyways, whispering into and kissing your ear while you lay cosy in his arms, falling asleep to the sound of waves lapping at the tower. Each time you met you got better and better at pleasing him, until it was a private source of pride how perfectly he fit inside of you.

You pepper kisses along the length and cup his balls. It’s as gorgeously speckled as the rest of his body and you press your lips to the spots, sucking lightly. Every freckle is shown love. You memorized where each one was a long time ago. But soon, Edwards places his hand on the back of your head and he doesn’t have to say anything for you to know that he needs more.

You wrap your lips around the pink head, savouring the salty taste of the clear sap that leaks from the tip. That’s much better; he sighs and runs his fingers through your hair. You work the head with your tongue, lapping all around and flicking his slit, drawing out hums of pleasure from the older man. All the while your hand slides up and down his length. You rotate your wrist with each pump, twisting from the bushy base to your lips, pausing to spit on your palm every so often. His balls hang heavy in your other hand and, ever so gently, you squeeze and massage the sensitive pouch.

His smooth thighs twitch as he breathes your name.  Each time you slide your lips down his shaft, you take a little more of Edwards into your mouth. You gaze up at him, watching his eyebrows pinch and his jaw go slack at the sight of you.

“F-fuck, it feels so good. You’re so beautiful…” he whispers. His fingers rake through your hair, making your scalp tingle and sending sparks down your back.

Your eyes water while you lean in and slide him along the pad of your tongue.

“Relax your throat… that’s it, good girl,” Edwards coos. His knees wobble and his breath hitches as you take him further and further into your hot, wet mouth.

Before you know it your throat is bulging and your nose is nestled in his brown-grey curls. He’s not at all unclean, but there’s a natural musk that makes you swoon. Few people get close enough to notice the scent of his sea spray cologne. You’re the only one he trusts enough to allow even closer.

In one swift motion, you rear back and he slips out of your mouth with ropes of spit connecting the two of you.

“Breathe. There we go.” Edwards gazes down at you with soft eyes. “You’re doing so well, darling. You’re being so good for me…”

Your throat is sore and your jaw aches but you’re eager to hold him inside you again, to hear him moan in a way only you can make him.

The sunlight cast through the blinds illuminates the two of you in golden stripes. His groans and the rhythmic, wet noises from your mouth fill the office. He rasps encouragement as you bob your head and slide your fist along any part of him you’re not quite ready to take into your throat again.

Edwards is noisy. He doesn’t hold back, doesn’t rob you of what you’ve earned. For that, you’re thankful. You feel every gasp, whimper, and whispered curse between your legs and soon you’re so wet that your upper thighs are slick. He doesn’t notice, not just yet. With a satisfied sigh, he cups your chin and guides you up off your knees. Maybe next time he’ll come in your mouth but today he has other plans.

When his fingers slip easily inside of you, his eyebrows raise. He gazes at you with that familiar, arrogant glint in his eyes. That smug look that disgusts others but makes you flood his fingers even more.

“So eager,” he purrs. “So needy.” He slides in and out, palming your swollen clit each time he enters. “Tell me what you want.”

You swallow hard, placing your hand on his chest, right by the dove pin, to steady yourself as his fingers plunge between your thighs.

“I want you to fuck me, sir. I want you to cum inside me. Please… I can’t wait any longer.”

Your breasts heave as you pant. They don’t escape his notice and with a firm hand he guides you onto your desk until its cool surface makes your bare skin tingle. He leans over you, keeping his rhythm between your legs while he reverently kisses your chest. Big, wet smooches. Sharp, sucking pecks.

Edwards takes each nipple into his warm mouth. He squeezes one breast and sucks the other, making the most delicious wet noises while his pink lips pucker around the buds.

“Arthur, please. Sir…”

He hums and the way it rumbles against your perked nipple makes your back arch. With a wet smack, his lips retreat and he withdraws his hand, fingers shiny with your arousal. It’s time to treat you to something better.

He sinks down to his knees and sighs between your legs.

“Such a pretty, little pussy. And so wet for me.”

He thumbs the hood back and flicks his tongue against your clit. The squeak he forces out of you makes him chuckle. With firm hands, Edwards grips your waist. He doesn’t want you to move, doesn’t want you to wiggle away as he buries his face into your warmth. He hungrily laps at your juices, smearing it all over his speckled cheeks and chin.

You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch the Constant eat you out. He’s like a man possessed. Ravenous between your shaking thighs. Licking, sucking, and kissing you all over. He takes your swollen clit between his plush lips. The way you jerk and moan draws a lustful growl from Edwards that rumbles against your nub and has you squirming in his grasp.

You’re dangerously close to coming and it wouldn’t be the first time the Constant gave in to his cravings and made you come with his tongue before fucking you into another orgasm, but his cock is aching and he’s just as eager to fill you as you are to be filled. Still, he likes to tease.

It’s almost infuriating how slow he moves. How he grasps his cock and slides it all along your silky flaps, avoiding the areas that count. Lining it up against your relaxed entrance only to waggle and slap the head against your pussy. Taunting you with a devilish smirk while you obediently keep your knees to your chest, your ass at the edge of the desk, and your holes exposed for him.

He slides into you. Just when you think you can’t stand the anticipation any longer, he enters your cunt, deeper and deeper until his thighs press against your cheeks. He fills you completely in one slow thrust and it’s what you’ve wanted for so long that you can’t help but sob.

He pulls out slowly and slides back in. In and out, in and out, and you gaze up at his blue eyes wondering how you got so lucky. The Constant… the Constant. One of the richest, most powerful men in the world is murmuring praise to you as he seeks his release inside your body.

“You’re so pretty… and you’re all mine. You’re mine. God, yes, you’re mine.” Edwards whispers it over and over to you like a mantra. The thud thud thud of the desk lurching to his beat grows louder as he pounds into you.

“So beautiful. I’m gonna make you cum. You deserve it, y-yes… fuck you make me feel so good. It feels so good.”

He’s coming undone. Sweet nothings tumble from his lips and his hips buck wildly, thrusting into you with abandon and making your eyes roll.

Realizing that he’s fast approaching his climax, he reaches down and thumbs your clit, swiping it with just the right amount of speed and pressure because you truly are his and Edwards knows your body better than anyone else, and soon you, his prized possession, are coming, wailing and clenching so tightly around his cock that he yells.

His eyes squeeze shut and his mouth hangs open. As you shudder and bask in the rolling waves of pleasure, he shoots his load deep inside of you. You can feel him coating your walls, feel his cock pulse with each squirt. Your pussy throbs and squeezes him as the two of you moan.

The Constant slumps against your flushed body. His cock slips out of your warmth and he nuzzles his forehead into your cheek. His breath is as rapid as your own, but gradually your panting eases. You sigh. He raises his head to admire your face through hooded eyes and you pet him, running your hand from the high-widows peak down past the smooth patch of scalp on the back.  

He has to leave for the airport soon. You both know it. You wrap your legs around him, regardless, hugging his slim waist with your thighs.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” And with the way he kisses you, there’s no doubt in your mind that he means it.  

[restmyheadatnightcontent]

so I watched the terror and fell in love with all these stupid cold boys so I went and read all the fics I could and I fell in love with thse two. my brain wouldnt shut up until I wrote this so here we go. it was meant to be a short little but but ended up as almost 2k of domestic joplittle fluff

_

Edward sighs as he wakes again to find the space beside him empty. He wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t the fifth time this week that it has happened. He sighs and pulls the jumper that has taken permanent residence on the floor next to the bed. He isn’t sure if it is his, or Thomas’, but right now he is too tired to care.

When Tom first moved in, their clothes were organised and separate from each other, but now, like every other aspect of their lives, they are mixed and tangled in together. There have been many days where he has rushed to work and grabbed a shirt blindly from the wardrobe only to reach the office and find that it isn’t his, or they will go out to the pub and Tom will be wearing the shirt that Ed remembers wearing two weeks before. As time goes on, the lines where separating him and Tom begin to blur more and more. 

And honestly, Edward doesn’t mind at all.

However, there is one thing that they do differ on, and that is their attitude for work.

That isn’t to say that Edward doesn’t enjoy his work, and that he doesn’t put any effort in because he does. But he is also loves the moment when he can turn off his computer, leave the office and not have to think about the seemingly never-ending stream of emails that plague him.

Whereas Edward is certain that, if given the choice, Tom would do nothing but work. It is something that has been ingrained into him since childhood, Edward suspects. He had grown up in the countryside, his struggles being distant yet disapproving parents who would ship him off to boarding school so as to not have to deal with him for half the year;  the expectation to never let anything show, even on the days where he wanted to do nothing but cry; and the loneliness that ate away at him, despite being almost always surrounded by people. But no matter how cold his family would get, they would always provide for him. He never had to worry about food, or shelter, or money.

Thomas hadn’t been quite so lucky.

It had taken him a while to tell Edward about his childhood, having buried every trace of it deep down out of fear that anyone would find out and think less of him for it.

Not that sane person who had ever met the man would ever think badly of Thomas Jopson. He was hard-working, punctual, incredibly well organised but also friendly, funny, and kind. He remembered everyone’s name in the office, and would always make time to stop and chat. He seemed to have this magical ability to see everyone, and make you feel seen in return, which had terrified Edward at first. He wasn’t used to attention, used to people only talking to him when they needed something from him and for not a second more. So it had been a shock one day to find a cup of tea set down on his desk and looked up to find Francis Crozier’s assistant in front of him with a beaming smile, asking how his day is going. It was a strange feeling being noticed, and realising that Jopson must have noticed him enough attention to make his tea order perfectly. After that, Tom’s visits to his desk had become more frequent, and he would visit Tom at his own whenever the man had a spare minute. And desk visits had become a few pints in the pub after work, and pub trips became dinner, and then he one day he found himself sat across from Tom in the park on his old picnic blanket when the other man had leaned across and kissed him.  

After that, Edward started to see more and more of the real Thomas Jopson, as the other man slowly peeled away his hardened layers, letting Edward see what lay beneath. His eyes crinkled when he really smiled, and he snorted when he laughed, and his accent would slip if he was ever really excited about something. He let Tom see the true him in return, and he knows they both found it hard to let someone in after so long, but god was it worth it.

One night, as they were laying in bed, just between awake and sleep when Tom began to talk. He told Edward all about his childhood; about his mum, the young boy who was forced to become a parent to his younger brother, how he had started working so young just so there could be food on the table, about the fear that hangs over him and that he will wake up one day to find he is still that little scared boy, fighting to survive.

His voice hadn’t wavered as he talked, and Edward marvelled at his bravery; to flay himself open, pull down every wall he had built up and let everything else fall away until there was just him. He didn’t say it, but Edward could hear him all the same, saying here I am, this is it, do you still love me? And Edward had thought yes, I love you now more than ever and just pulled Tom in close, held him tight against his chest and promised him that he would never be alone again.

The memories were dredged up again once Crozier made the decision to stop drinking, encouraged by Tom, and Edward could do little besides watching the man he loved run himself into the ground, helping James care for Francis whilst trying to keep the office running smoothly and look after himself. Ed could help with last part at least, and so he made food and made sure that Tom actually ate it, kept the flat tidy because the last thing Tom needed was to come home and have to clean, and when Tom came home late at night exhausted, shaking and overwhelmed by the memories, Edward would hold him, let him cry into his shoulder until he was asleep.

It wasn’t long after that, once Crozier had returned to the office healthier and happier than he’d been in a long time, that Tom had quietly mentioned that he was thinking of a career change. He had always helped people, had always liked helping people and he wanted to do it for other people, to choose to help them and help other people the way he wished someone would have helped him as a child. So the next few weeks were spent meticulously researching different courses and placements and funding and eventually Tom had decided.

He was going to become a nurse.

Ed had been wholly supportive, of course, and his heart swelled with pride as Tom had told him, knowing he would do whatever he could to help the man he loved achieve his dreams. He kept it quiet at the office until Tom had figured out a way to tell Crozier his plans, but he couldn’t help but beam whenever he caught Tom’s eye.

(Once he found out, Crozier was overjoyed but also a little heartbroken to be losing his trusted assistant.)

But he wouldn’t be losing him for a while, as it was going to be a long process. Because he had to care for his mum and brother, Tom had had to drop out of school the minute he could which meant that he didn’t have much in the way of qualifications. So he was put on a foundation course so that he could catch up before starting the proper training, which sadly he hadn’t been able to get funding for. Both Edward and Francis (and almost everyone they knew) had offered to help him, so that he would have time to study, but Tom being Tom would not and could not accept it. This was his decision and he wanted to do it by himself.   So he was still working full time at the office, whilst coming home in the evenings to study.  Which would have been fine if Tom wasn’t such a perfectionist, and work himself late into the night as he is doing once again tonight.

Edward catches a glimpse of the clock as he makes his way out of the bedroom towards the living room and he sees that it reads 3:34 and sighs. This is the latest that Tom has been up this week and Ed knows that if he carries on like this, he will burn himself out.

Tom is sat on the sofa, laptop balanced on his lap with textbooks open all around  him, and even from here Edward can see the exhausted set to his shoulders. At least this time he has made it to the sofa, some nights Edward has found him slumped over the table, shoulders drawn up tight and back tense, and Ed had to sit and watch him wince every time he turned too quickly, the next day when he thought no-one could see.

He shuffles over to the sofa, and Tom doesn’t notice him until he comes to sit beside him. From here Ed can see the deep bags beneath his boyfriends eyes, the paleness of his face and the tiredness that seems to be pouring off of him and he curses himself for not waking earlier and pulling Tom into bed with him, back from the edge of exhaustion before he can do any real harm to himself.

“Shit, did I wake you?” Tom asks, voice quiet but rough with tiredness and eyes slowly blinking at Ed.

“No, just woke up,” he replies. “Missed you.”

“Sorry, darling. I just need to finish this and then I’ll come in,” Tom says, turning back to his typing.

Edward knows better than to start arguing with him, Tom can be incredibly stubborn, and even more so if he thinks he is being coddled. So, he has learnt to resort to slightly more underhanded tactics. He manoeuvres himself up so that he can wrap his arm around Toms waist and let his head fall on his shoulder.

“Ned—” Tom protests, but Ed just hums and squeezes his middle, sneaking his hand underneath Tom’s shirt and runs his fingers along the skin just above his waistband. He pushes his face into Tom’s neck, nose nuzzling at the spot just below his ear that he knows makes Tom weak.

Tom huffs and carries on typing, but Ed can already feel the tension draining from him, and he smiles. Tom is one of the strongest people Edward knows, he carries so much weight on his slim shoulders, but most of the time he carries it effortlessly and Ed is in awe of him.

But there are times when it all becomes a little bit too much and Edward is there to help him carry the load.

He knows Tom has a path in his head, carefully treading the line between the past and the present, taking him where he knows he needs to go. But sometimes he stumbles, pushes himself a little too hard, is a little too harsh on himself, but it doesn’t matter because Ed is there walking every step behind him.

And he will always be there to lead him home.

[power-of-plot]

Insomnia. Armin Arlet Hcs.

Sooo i’m back with my second post. Hope this is ok. Don’t know if this is OOC so bear with me.

WARNINGS: None. Insomnia..? Fluff

What would Armin do with an insomniac s/o? 

Bruh- i was about to post this on my pc and my grandma thought he was a girl tbn he really looks like a girl there. He doesn’t have boobs but still-

-His beautiful blue eyes briefly fluttered open after you took your head off his chest and his hand resting on your back fell to the matress. It was odd but he wasn't fully conscious, slumber quickly took over him in matter of seconds. Things started getting strange when he awoke once again this time to what seemed to be steps, he rolled over just to see you weren't there next to him "It's past midnight, why are you awake? I-is something the matter?"

-Makes it clear with the sweetest words it doesn't bother him in the slightest if you wake him at night, it rather gives him the relief of knowing you'll rely on him. "Did you have a nightmare?" Whether your answer is yes or no he is already grabbing a match to turn on the candle on his bedside table, who knows how long you've been walking there in the dark, he doesn't want you to trip or be scared.

"No, i can't sleep.."

 "Oh.. come here, laying down will sure make it easier to fall asleep" 

"It won't work." 

"How do you know?" 

"Tried a couple times before, i really can't sleep..."

-Is even more concerned, how many days had you spent alone stressing over your lack of sleep while he was peacefully sleeping? "So you didn't want to wake me..?". Before his eyes you could surpass even Historia's acts of kindness, you frequently reminded him why you were his angel, his goddess but each time was special. Before you can apologize for anything else, his slim protective arms pull you into a warm hug

"It's okay, i'll stay awake and make you company"

-This sweet boi re-read his favorite book to tell you stories at night about what awaited outside the walls, emphatizing on his favorite part: the ocean and it's great size. As if they weren't shiny enough his blue eyes sparkled while he explained endless amounts of salt could be obtained from the sea and that it was so big you couldn't sail through it all even in months.

"I-i snore?! So i'm the reason you can’t sleep?!  *ARMIN NOISES*" 

"Jeez it was a joke!"

-Can't help but turn red when you say he looks cute while sleeping "Do i really look that much like Chr- i mean.. Historia..?". Truly enjoys when you pet his head and play with his hair, no objections if you braid it, he wears the braids with pride until they come undone.

-If he's lucky enough to get you to fall asleep on him prepare outside world and captain Levi 'cause this guy won't move in the slightest, he'll put all his might into not moving nor making a noise while sneezing, as weird as it feels or as numb as it gets he won't move your head off his arm, sore shoulder? he had crashed into roofs and walls before, it would be a crime to get your head off his chest along with the exclusive majestic view.

-Don't be surprised if you feel him giving you forehead kisses or hear him saying things he woudln't say, not even to you

"I feel lucky someone this beatiful and brave would choose someone like me... thank you my love-. I'll make sure you get your freedom one day, i'll take you to see the ocean... i'll protect you, even if i have to give my life i won't let anything happen to you.. never."

I’ll accept requests, i should post my request rules and that stuff pretty soon i believe. I really enjoyed writing this so hope u liked it, thanks for reading! :D <3