#take a shower and put on more comfortable clothes.

[fictionalsweethearts]

DOMESTIC!SEVIKA HEADCANONS

Let's agree that Sevika doesn't spend much time at home, as she has to attend to business matters all day and night, and she spends her breaks at the betting shops or in some seedy pub where she feeds her fondness (perhaps addiction) to gambling.

However, Sevika must live in the vicinity of the centre of Zaun where she works. Probably in some austere apartment with one bathroom and a narrow kitchen (not that she uses it much either).

She tends to leave the terrace open to air out the smell of tobacco, already permeating the curtains and the carpet.

Her room is at the end of the hallway, it is not very big but it is comfortable, and its window faces the same avenue. At night, the neon color of the signs enters and draws silhouettes on the double bed, which is provided with a wine-colored bedspread and brown pillows. The dresser is usually tidy, and most of Sevika's clothes hang from the coat rack, including her poncho. There is an ashtray on the nightstand, a stained glass lamp, somewhat blackened by tobacco smoke, and in the drawer another pack of cigarettes and a Shimmer dial (which she has needed to use more frequently, being forced to work with only two hours of sleep in her body.).

Sevika is pragmatic, not much for keeping knickknacks or ornaments, however she keeps a deck of cards that her old man had given her a few decades ago, on her fourteenth birthday.

The apartment is quiet, Sevika appreciates the silence after dealing with noises of all kinds on a daily basis.

Since she doesn't spend much time at home, she doesn't tend to clean the apartment very often. She keeps the essentials clean, that is, the bathroom and her room, but the kitchen sink usually has unwashed glasses and cups and there is a thin layer of dust on the coffee table. It doesn't bother her much.

The bathroom is as austere as the rest of the apartment, with a shower and toilet, a mirror that says good morning and she answers with a "what a haggard bitch." There is a small first aid kit under the sink, next to a toolbox that allows her to repair her prosthetic arm. In the upper compartment, there is a woody perfume that she puts on her neck and on the fabric of her poncho.

She usually leaves the mechanical arm on top of the dresser before going to sleep, being the first thing she reaches for in the morning, of course, after her morning cigarette.

Sevika's breakfast: a black coffee and a cigarette. If the day promises to be unbearable, she adds a shot of whiskey to her coffee. Sometimes she buys a fruit at the market.

Sevika is not an avid cook, she does it when necessary, as she usually has almost all her meals at the Last Drop or a market stall. She usually feeds herself with whatever she can throw into the pot, adding spices, wine and water.

Her signature dish is beef stew with wine (she drinks the wine while she cooks).

Of course, she has a liquor cabinet in her living room. She usually keeps it filled with bottles of bourbon, red wine, and other stronger herbal liquors.

She's not a morning person, her first sounds in the morning are usually grunts and monosyllables, until her breakfast cigarette and a shower improves her mood (a little).

Sevika is good at math. Not just because of her gambling hobby, but because of taking care of Silco's collections and other deals involving transactions, negotiations and money. She usually keeps an accounting book in her closet, which she has to take a look on more than once when the numbers don't add up (perfectionism at its finest).

Sevika takes great care of her dental health. She appreciates clean teeth and keeps mints or candy handy to keep her breath fresh (so she can kiss her girls better).

When she's in the mood and the night allows it, she likes to take a bubble bath at home. She accompanies it with a cigarette and a nice glass of whiskey.

Yes, she has fallen asleep in said bath more than once (she is an exhausted woman, don't be mean).

Sevika usually keeps the lights low, preferring darkness.

She wears comfortable clothes at home like tank tops and sweatpants, but avoids going barefoot.

Her home may look unkempt, but she knows where everything is. If something moves without her permission, she'll notice.

She avoids having pets, as they seem like an unnecessary responsibility to add to her life. But if a stray cat wanders around her home, she leaves leftovers by the window.

She likes to plays a game of solitaire when she's free (rarely).

Sevika has nightmares. No matter how much rest she tries to get, her brain replays past mistakes or portrays possible tragedies that she is unable to stop.

She doesn't like wall clocks or alarm clocks, but she always knows the time (let's call it a busy butch superpower).

In the mornings she takes cold showers.

She doesn't tend to look at herself in the mirror for long. While she maintains her self-esteem, she is not vain by any means. She also avoids paying too much attention to her missing arm, as her mind wanders to unpleasant places.

She has a little training corner in her apartment, where she spends part of her time maintaining her body strong and fit.

Yes, she smokes between sets.

In the privacy of her room, Sevika sometimes resorts to self-pleasure to relax. Her hand and a good imagination are more than enough.

DOMESTIC!SEVIKA & PARTNER

If she has a girlfriend, inviting her over is the ultimate proof that she trusts her. No one who doesn't deserve it enters her safe space.

Her nightmares are reduced if she sleeps with her, and she often pulls her close during the night and buries her nose in her hair.

She doesn't say good morning, preferring to stare at her partner in silence until she wakes up.

She makes sure she's comfortable. She may seem disinterested, but she's bought shampoo and conditioner for her, always keeps the bed clean and the air fresh when she invites her to stay the night, and often cooks something more elaborate for dinner.

Sevika avoids smoking in her presence if she doesn't smoke, so she goes out onto the balcony several times.

She likes comfortable silences, sharing a cigarette or each minding their own business without having to start unnecessary conversations.

She is good at listening and providing advice with effective solutions. She usually sits on the couch and gives her girlfriend all the time she needs to vent.

She's not good at comforting, but she tries.

She is very receptive. It is a matter of noticing a change in her girlfriend's mood or reading her expression to know that something is going on.

If she falls asleep on the couch, Sevika takes her to her bed, if she cuts herself while cooking, Sevika, instead of worrying, simply bandages her hand. She's practical.

She really enjoys her girlfriend's company even if she doesn't say it. She looks at her, sits close to her or brushes her waist or her butt with her hand if she passes by her.

If her partner is away for a long time, Sevika gets worried. She express it with a simple "you took long" when she arrives.

Her way of asking her partner to stay the night is to simply say, "If you're sleepy, the bed is clean."

When Sevika has her partner over, she makes sure to reduce the smell of tobacco with air fresheners she bought at the market. She sprays the whole apartment and walks around sniffing to make sure it's not obvious that she smokes a pack a day.

She likes to cook if she has her over, she usually prepares more elaborate meals and uncorks her best liquor.

Sevika snores. Years of smoking, sleepless nights and punches in the nose have taken their toll on her and she snores like a truck.

When her bed partner chides her for it, she simply raises her eyebrows and asks, "Do I really snore?" (She will never admit that she snores).

[cosyvelvetorchid]

Bucktommy @bucktommyfluffebruary day 1: non-sexual intimacy.

This was actually an old prompt from last year but it fit the theme really well.

*****

Tommy had barely said a word since he walked through the door. He’d had a rough shift. The type of shift all firefighters dreaded—losing a kid.

It was a sad part of the job, and he would be okay in the end, but it usually took a day or two to come to terms with the events surrounding that type of loss.

One of the upsides to dating a fellow firefighter was that they understood how it felt and what you needed. On top of that Buck knew Tommy inside and out. A flicker of a look or the tiniest shift in body language and Buck would know that something was up. That thought used to terrify Tommy in the early days of them dating, back when he was still trying to keep up the confident disposition.

But he’d fallen hard for Evan Buckley and slowly he let himself be seen. Now, not needing to use words for Buck to know what he needed brought him comfort.

“Come with me.” Buck said softly and gently lead him upstairs to their bathroom. He turned on the shower and looked back at Tommy standing motionless and expressionless. His heart hurt seeing his boyfriend in a state of emotional fragility.

He unzipped Tommy’s jacket, pulling it off his shoulders and dropping it to the ground. “Arms up, sweetheart.” He whispered and Tommy did so without protest, allowing Buck to lift and remove his T-shirt.

Next he bent down and untied and removed his shoes and socks, then unbuckled his belt and removed his pants and underwear. He quickly removed his own clothes and stepped into the shower first, reaching out his hand for Tommy to take to join him.

He stepped aside guiding Tommy in position directly under the shower head. Tommy stood, eyes closed, letting the water cascade over him, hoping it would wash away the trauma of the day. Reaching for a loofah and soaping it up, Buck gently caressed Tommy’s body.

He was delicate as he made his way around the scars that dotted Tommy’s body. Tommy hated them—they were nothing but a reminder to him of suffering; being pierced, punctured, broken or bruised. They reminded him of pain, of the sometimes rehab that he’d have to work through to get back to work, and worst of all the time away from his work—which was as much a part of him as his heartbeat.

It was well over a year into their relationship that he admitted to Buck that he was insecure about them. Though he wasn’t particularly vain, he did have a healthy amount of confidence in his looks. And especially in his body—he’d work out for hours every week both to look good and to feel strong.

Buck worshipped Tommy’s body. Both what it looked like and what it could do. He loved Tommy’s heft—especially on top of him—and the feeling of his muscles under his fingertips. He loved his body hair and the raised edges of scar tissue.

For Buck those scars were a reminder that Tommy was a hero. Tommy ran into dangerous situations to save lives—even if Buck did admonish him for doing so on occasion! He was infinitely proud of his Tommy’s bravery and how he would put his life on the line to help others. Those scars were reminders that hundreds of people were still alive because of him.

More importantly they were a reminder that Tommy was still alive. That he’d been through injury and pain and suffering and sometimes hell but came through the other side and back to Buck.

Once he was done washing Tommy down, he washed his hair then quickly washed himself and stepped out first, wrapping a towel around himself then one around Tommy.

He guided Tommy into their bedroom and helped him into sweats and T-shirt and Bucks own hoodie he’d worn that day. It was a little tighter on him but he knew Tommy took comfort in wearing Bucks clothes sometimes, especially when they smelled like him.

To everyone else Tommy was strong and confident. He’d die before anybody saw him break down or being anything other than a stoic and brave. Buck was the only person—with the privilege as far as Buck was concerned—to see Tommy with his walls and defences down. To see him soft or scared or just broken down from a rough shift.

“You need to eat, baby.” Buck said quietly and Tommy silently nodded his head. Buck lifted his hand and gently kissed his knuckles before leading him downstairs to the kitchen

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Day 1: Non sexual intimacy @bucktommyfluffebruary

I'm already a day behind and it's only day 2 🤦‍♀️ But I'm still planning on doing the full 28 days.

(whether or not they'll be posted within the next 27 days however remains to be seen)

A lover's touch (AO3)

Tommy takes care of Buck after he gets discharged from hospital in 8x05

---

"You don't have to do all this." Buck insisted as Tommy helped him into his truck. He'd just gotten discharged from hospital, with a prescription for painkillers and doctor's orders to take it easy for at least a few days.

One of the nurses had given him scrubs to wear after Tommy had insisted he couldn't put his uniform back on "It's covered in pumpkin guts, Evan.", and he'd reluctantly agreed, and carefully gotten changed in a bathroom, despite Tommy reminding him it wasn't like he'd never seen him in his underwear before.

"And how would you get home if I didn't?" Tommy asked, pulling Buck from his thoughts.

"I could've just gotten an Uber..."

"Oh, sure. You want me to just... leave you here, go home, wait for you to get home with your paid ride, then drive over to your place to see how you're doing - wait, would I be allowed to come over? Or would you just text me to tell me you're fine?" Tommy deadpanned.

Buck rolled his eyes and let Tommy fasten his seatbelt while mumbling something under his breath that sounded a lot like "bitch"

Tommy ignored him and gave his knee a quick squeeze, before closing the door and jogging to the other side of his truck and getting behind the wheel.

"Your place or mine?" He asked as he started the engine.

"Mine." Buck sighed. "I want to get out of these scrubs and I don't have old sweats and hoodies at yours. I only bring my sexy clothes when I'm staying over." he said, trying to sound less like a petulant child and more like the hot sexy man he wanted Tommy to see him as.

"Alright, yours it is." Tommy laughed a little and pulled out of the hospital parking lot. "Do you mind if we stop for food or did you want to attempt to cook with that shoulder?" he quickly glanced at his boyfriend, eyebrow raised, daring him to deny that wasn't exactly what he was planning.

"Only if we can get a greasy burger and fries. I'm done being healthy for today."

"Deal."

By the time they got to Buck's loft and had something to eat, he was feeling more and more grimy and restless in the uncomfortable scrubs.

How medical staff could wear those all day every day he'd never know.

Tommy was clearing up after their meal and had started a load of laundry, and had been waiting on Buck's hand and foot since the moment they'd walked through the door.

It was sweet but also a bit frustrating. Buck was used to taking care of himself, he hadn't had anyone fluff his pillow or adjust his blanket since he was a kid and Maddie used to read him a story before bed.

"Are you comfortable enough in that chair? Do you want an extra pillow? I think you can have more painkillers in about half an hour if you need them."

"No, no I'm ok. I just... kinda feel gross. I think I’m just going to take a shower. I feel like I'm still covered in pumpkin guts."

"I can assure you, you're not. You look just like you did when we woke up this morning." Tommy told him.

"oh great, so I look like I just woke up." Buck complained.

Tommy smiled but decided not to take the bait.

"Yep. Cute, a little pouty, and very kissable." he said and kissed Buck to prove his point. "Do you need any help with that shower?"

"I can wash myself, Tommy, I'm not an invalid."

"No, but you currently only have one fully functioning arm, and the doctor said not to lift it above your head for at least a few days."

"I'll be fine." Buck said a little too harshly, and immediately felt bad. "I'll let you know if I need help."

Tommy nodded.

"Sure. You know where to find me."

He went upstairs to find something more comfortable to wear, and smiled at the sight of one of Tommy's cut off hoodies and his spare charger on what had become his side of the bed.

They were going on six months together and things were going well. He was happy and settled in a way he hadn't felt since... pretty much ever, and he hoped Tommy felt the same.

He debated stealing Tommy's hoodie, but decided to go for something that would keep his shoulder somewhat warm. Warm and cold compresses is what he vaguely remembered the doctor saying. He'd been slightly preoccupied with the curse, as well as wanting to look good for Tommy, and hoping Eddie wouldn't rat him out for practically yanking off the hospital gown when Tommy texted to ask what room he was in.

Suddenly noises from the TV drifted up to the bedroom and it made him happy to know Tommy felt comfortable enough in his space to make himself at home, and doing something as mundane as switching on the TV.

He grabbed some clean clothes and made his way to the downstairs bathroom, pausing to press a kiss to the top of his boyfriend's head as a way of apology for snapping at him earlier.

He'd planned to quickly undress and wash the day off of himself, only the quick part, he realised once he'd turned on the water and tried to get the scrub top off without hurting his shoulder more, would not be happening.

He spent a good fifteen minutes twisting himself into crazy positions and jumping around his bathroom until he'd finally managed to get the top off. He was red in the face and slightly out of breath, but he figured at least the water would be warm and relaxing.

He stepped under the spray, tipped his head back against the shower wall to let the warm water run over his face, and felt himself relax. His prickly mood from before as well as the embarrassment of getting hurt on the job in such a stupid way washing off him and disappearing down the drain.

After a few minutes, he opened his eyes and moved the wet hair off his face, grabbing the shampoo from the little shelf in the corner. He squirted some in his hand on auto pilot, only to then realise he couldn't lift his arm high enough to actually rub it into his hair.

He awkwardly moved it to his good hand, but then quickly found out washing your hair with one hand was no easy feat. He bent down so he could use his injured arm too, but the movement tugged on his sore shoulder too much and when stars appeared in front of his eyes, he stood up and gave up.

He rinsed the shampoo off his hands and out of his hair as best he could, and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist.

"Tom?" he said softly after opening the bathroom door. "Tommy?"

The other man was sitting on the sofa, scrolling through his phone, while some sitcom played on the TV. He looked up at the sound of his name.

"Evan? Are you alright?"

"I uh... think I might need some help after all... i-if you don't mind..."

"Of course not. Tell me what you need." Tommy replied, dropping his phone on the table and walking over to him.

"I uh... tried to wash my hair... b-but it's not going so well with one hand."

"Good thing I have two then." Tommy smiled and gently steered him back into the bathroom. "Give me two seconds. You go ahead and get in the shower."

Buck did as he was told and got back under the warm water and watched his boyfriend quickly strip before joining him.

It was somewhat of a tight fit for two men of their size, but neither exactly hated being close to each other.

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I thought of showering with you." Buck joked, trying to distract himself from feeling completely helpless.

"Next time." Tommy promised and pressed a small kiss to his lips. "Just relax and let me take care of you." he said while squirting some shampoo in his hands and gently massaging it into Buck's hair.

As much as he'd hated asking for help, having Tommy take care of him like this felt like heaven.

He'd known Tommy's hands were magic and could make him feel amazing, but never like this, never outside the bedroom.

"I wish I had one of those stools for the shower" Buck mused as Tommy gently started washing his body. "I'd never leave this bathroom."

"I have one at my place. I got it a few years ago after I sprained my ankle getting out of the chopper."

"You mean you fell out?" Buck teased. He'd gotten to know Tommy's crew over the past few months, and they loved sharing embarrassing stories from Tommy's probie days at Harbor.

"It had been raining! Everything was wet and slippery!" Tommy protested.

"And you tripped over your own feet trying to get back into the hangar."

"Who told you that? Melton? Tess? O'Neil? Donato wasn't there yet, so it wasn't her."

"I have my sources."

"It was Sal wasn't it? I should never have introduced you. He's banned from ever talking to you again." Tommy said, only half joking. He turned off the water and quickly wrapped a towel around himself, before doing the same to Buck and gently drying him off.

"Maybe it wasn't Sal, maybe it was someone else."

Tommy stopped what he was doing and narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend.

"Maybe I should ban all of them from ever speaking to you again. Or monitor the conversation so they won't spread lies about me."

"It's not a lie if it's true." Buck teased, sore shoulder forgotten.

"Yeah, yeah, see if I fly you into a hurricane again." Tommy mock threatened. "You can get Donato to do it next time."

"Hopefully there will never be a next time." Buck said, letting Tommy push him to lean back against the sink and helping him put a pair of sweats on. "But maybe we can take a trip together? We could go to Vegas. It's not really fair that you flew Eddie there but you've never taken me."

"You don't like MMA." Tommy argued, mildly distracted trying to find a way to get Evan's hoodie on without hurting his shoulder.

"There are other things we could do in Vegas, aren't there? We could go to a casino... or see a show... or... go see Elvis."

Tommy frowned.

"Graceland? That's not in Vegas..." he trailed off as confusion made way for realisation. "Oh... you mean... Elvis. A chapel."

"Well... Maybe not just yet... but... eventually... maybe? Would that be something... you... would like... one day?"

Tommy tugged Buck's hoodie over his head and gently guided his arms through the sleeves.

"Get married? By Elvis? In Vegas?"

"Y-yeah?"

"I don't know about the Elvis part... but the rest..." He paused and bit his lip, looking almost shy and as un-Tommy as Buck had ever seen him. "Yeah... yeah that sounds pretty good."

[spidercatweb]

Clean Hands ★ Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: lots of description of blood, death (victim of an Unsub), gn!bau!reader, no y/n, hurt/comfort?? They hold hands :)

I thought of earlier seasons Spencer while writing this.. my beloved...

Word Count: 840

Description: A case takes a sad turn and reader helps Spencer clean up.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are very much appreciated! 💜

The abandoned building the team was searching had turned out to be exactly where the Unsub was hiding out with his latest victim. Morgan and Reid found the girl first. You and Prentiss found the Unsub and caught him just before he could escape the building. 

The girl, no older than seventeen, had been left to bleed out in a corner. The Unsub didn't have time to finish what he started when he heard the noise of multiple sets of footsteps and banging on doors. Reid rushed to the girl when he saw her, telling Morgan to go get help. He put pressure on the wound to try to stop the bleeding as Morgan called for medics.

"It's going to be okay, you'll be okay." He reassures the crying girl as she wanes in and out of consciousness. 

Blood. So much blood. It pools on the floor and mixes with the dirt and grime that had accumulated in the building over the years it had been abandoned. It seeps into Spencer's pants as he kneels next to the girl. His hands are soaked. He yells out to Morgan, asking once again for medics.

 "They'll be here soon, kid." Morgan knew what Spencer was thinking. 

"We don't have time. She'll bleed out in minutes. Come help me." His voice is panicked. Morgan rushes over and helps all he can. 

The medics don't arrive soon enough.

 "She's gone. I'm sorry." The paramedic pulls his hand away from the girl's pulse point with a sigh. Spencer stays, frozen. 

"Kid, come on. There's nothing we could do," Morgan urges him to get up. "If they'd gotten here sooner-" 

"I know, come on." Spencer slowly stands up from the upsetting scene, watery eyes still locked onto the girl. As he turns away, facing the door, he sees you and Prentiss walking in. Concern immediately washes over your face as your pace quickens, heading straight towards him. 

"Reid, what happened?" His mouth opens slightly, but he can't bring himself to speak. He looks over to the girl in the corner, who you hadn't noticed yet. The paramedics are already zipping her into a body bag. 

"Oh." A frown forms on your face as you look over to Morgan. He motions to Spencer with his head, which you understand as "he's upset, go with him."

"Reid, there's probably towels or something in the ambulance, want to come with me? I don't mind helping you clean up." You give him a small, comforting smile. He nods, "yeah. Yes please." 

When you're out of the building, the sunlight makes the contrast of the deep red blood and Spencer's pale skin and light blue shirt even more vivid. You reach one of the ambulances and ask the paramedics if they have anything that could help to clean up the blood. They hand you two small, white towels, and ask Spencer if he's hurt. He shakes his head. "No. I'm fine."

You help him clean the blood off his hands the best you can, gently wiping them off as he holds them out for you. Spencer's hands are still stained, and he'll definitely be throwing out this outfit. And taking a nice, long shower when he gets back to the hotel. But he's okay. Just a little shaken up. 

The team is done at the scene, the Unsub has been taken into custody, and everyone is ready to leave. Morgan drives and Prentiss takes the passenger seat, leaving you and Spencer in the back of the SUV. He's obviously uncomfortable. He has his hands palms facing up resting on his knees. He makes sure that none of the bloody fabric of his clothes touches any part of the car.  

"Reid, you okay back there?" Prentiss turns in her seat, facing him. 

"Fine. Just really need a shower. Trying not to think about how many diseases can be spread by blood contact."

 "Ooh. Yeah. Better not. You'll be fine." She gives him a quick smile and turns back towards the windshield. 

A few minutes pass. Prentiss and Morgan are wrapped up in their own conversation, arguing about something dumb. Spencer still looks very uncomfortable. He’s staring off into space and one of his legs is bouncing up and down. You turn to him, a soft, sad look on your face. Slowly, you hold a hand out between the two of you and look at him expectantly. He looks confused.

 "My hands aren't very clean. I don't want to get blood on you." 

"I don't care. I can wash my hands when we get back." You reach your hand closer to him. Hesitantly, he puts his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers. You can see his face light up slightly, some of his worry dissolves with your help. 

The rest of the ride back to the hotel is quiet, save for Prentiss and Morgan's bickering. They drop the both of you off. You stay to help Spencer clean up. Prentiss and Morgan head back to the police station to wrap up the case.

Thank you for reading! Tell me what you thought! <3

[sitkowski]

time waits for me in bloom - nicholas ruffilo x cam (oc)

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x cam (OC) cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ gentle femdom, subby nicky, orgasm denial, chastity device (cock cage), praise kink, dirty talk, sexting (explicit pictures), oral sex (f receiving), handjobs, vaginal sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, they just love each other a lot word count: 4k author's note: here is the sequel to get me low (like a basement), aka this is nicky gets the cage. many thanks to illy for looking over this to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be, i owe you my life boo 💓 title comes from "blue reverie" by erra. divider by @saradika-graphics 🔐

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups

Cam gets in late from the bar the second night Nicholas is gone on tour. It’s just her and the cats, and she’s glad for their company while he’s away. She showers the smell of spilled beer and smoke off of herself, and then puts on a pair of sweats and one of Nicholas’ shirts before crawling into bed. She grabs her phone to text him, just to let him know that she made it in from work safe and sound. They had talked before the show and Cam had been a little amused at the little edge in his voice. He’d said he was fine, he was handling everything okay.

It’s only been two days.

When her phone pings with a notification, she’s expecting a goodnight or something. They’re still in the same time zone right now and she knows he’s probably going to be either sleeping soon or bored while they travel. But when Cam opens the message thread, she sees that it’s a photo. And it’s not that she has any doubt whatsoever that he’s going to be wearing the cage like he told her would, but to see it like this is another thing entirely. It’s obvious that he’s locked himself in some gas station bathroom, where the lighting is terrible and there’s graffiti all over the stall door. All she can really see is his lower stomach, the little padlock that sits atop the cock cage, and a hint of the glittery silicone encasing him. Her mouth goes dry at the sight, and she has to think of what to say, what to do. Does she send him words of encouragement? Does she send him back a picture that will no doubt drive him a little crazy because he can’t do anything about it?

She makes a decision, shimmying out of her sweatpants so that she’s only in her underwear and Nicholas’ Labyrinth t-shirt. It takes her a minute to get comfortable and take the picture at the right angle. It’s not even that risque, not compared to what he just sent her, but she knows it’ll do the trick. Cam sends a second one right behind it, without the t-shirt, so that he can see the tiny gold key that goes to the lock on his cage where it hangs around her neck, sitting just above her breasts. This one, she attaches a message to.

Be good.

She doesn’t wait for a response, setting aside her phone and putting back on her clothes before picking up her book. And when nothing comes through her phone, she isn’t surprised either. Even with the silence, she knows that he’ll be good for her. She’s confident he’ll be able to handle the cage okay, and it’s not as if there’s any punishment if he can’t. Cam thinks he just wanted this challenge for himself, to see how deep into denial he could get with it. Of course there’s a part of her that likes the power having the key for the cage gives her.

It takes him four more days to crack, just a little. Cam wakes up in the middle of the night to her phone ringing. Her immediate thought is that something’s wrong, and she scrambles to answer. All she hears at first when she says his name is his choppy breathing, and panic swirls in her stomach.

“Nicky?”

“You gotta tell me, Camille,” he says, his voice strained. “You gotta tell me I can’t take it off.”

A little bit of relief settles in her, “Oh baby, are you hurting?”

She’s not sure where he is but he has to be alone if he’s calling her like this. She hears a thud, which is probably him knocking his head against a door. She pictures him locking himself away in the hotel room bathroom, trying to be quiet so as not to be overheard while he struggles to get control.

“You’re doing so well Nicky, I’m so proud of you,” she says because she knows that’s what he needs to hear and it’s the truth. “You’re going to wear that cage. Eight more days and then you’re going to come home and I’m going to take such good care of you.”

“I’m losing my mind a little, fuck. All I want to do is—”

“No, Nicholas, listen to me.” Cam makes her voice a little more stern and she hears his sharp intake of breath. “You tell me right now if you want to safeword out, and then you’ll go and wake Noah up and tell him you want your key. Is that what you want?”

The sound of the call changes and she can tell he’s put her on speaker. She hears the sound of water running and splashing, and then after a minute, he finally speaks again. “You know you’re the smart one in this relationship, right?”

She makes a face that he can’t see, filing that away to deal with once he’s home. “You said you could do this for me. But maybe I want you to do this for you, Nicky.”

“Eight more days,” he says. He still sounds shaky, but it’s kind of unavoidable. “I can do eight more days.”

“You can. And if you can’t, that’s okay too. But I think you’re gonna be just fine.”

He laughs, a little hysterical. “Ask me again in eight days.”

Cam chooses then to distract him and ask him about the tour, and it seems to work for a little while. It doesn’t really matter to her that it’s the middle of the night, she’s happy to talk to him as long as he needs her to. Eventually, neither of them can stop yawning and they say goodnight to one another.

The next few days seem to fly by and as far as she can tell, he’s handling it okay. There aren’t any more middle of the night phone calls where he’s begging to be let out, at least. She even asks Noah, without really asking him, how Nicholas is holding up. And while Noah’s got the second key, he’d only taken it under the explicit instructions that he was given no absolute details. He has to know what it’s for, but he’s perfectly capable of pretending to be deaf, dumb and blind about the situation unless Nicholas tells him his safeword. There’s doing a favor for a friend, like holding the spare key to his chastity cage, and then there’s talking about it.

Cam decides to meet up with the tour on the last day to surprise Nicholas. She books a hotel room for them for after the show because she’s got a feeling they’re not going to make it out of the state before Nicholas gets the cage off. It’s surprisingly easy for her to convince him she’s still at home, even when she all but sneaks off to the venue to pick up the pass that Bryan left for her. Everyone knows that she’s there, and she manages to avoid being spotted by Nicholas at all. He doesn’t even realize that she’s side stage.

It’s obvious how the cage is affecting him, she can see that much just from watching him out there. Nicholas’ playing might be fully controlled but the rest of his movements are frenzied and Cam stays out of his line of sight so as not to distract him. She watches as he paces between songs, and maybe she feels more than a tiny amount of joy at how worked up this has made him. Now, all she can think about is what’s going to happen when he realizes that she’s here. What’s going to happen when she gets him back to that hotel room? She can’t even imagine making him wait until they get home.

She moves even further out of the way as the show comes to an end. As the band comes off stage, they each see her as they go by and make their way back to the dressing room. Nicholas is last, and he doesn’t even realize she’s standing there at first, not until she calls out his name. Once he sees her, he passes his bass off to the first tech with free hands, and pulls Cam into his arms.

“You’re here!” he says, as if it’s not obvious. “I thought you were at home.”

He’s burning up like a furnace, but she still clings to him anyways, “I thought I’d come and surprise you. It’s day fourteen after all.”

His eyes go a little fuzzy and she sees the desperation in them. He’s got things that he has to do before she can fully steal him away for the rest of the night, and she gives him a guiding push towards the dressing room. She can feel how tense he is beneath her hands, but chooses to ignore it for now. The post show chaos is enough of a distraction for him, even though Cam can tell now that they’re closer together how twitchy he really is. 

“It’s gonna be a long drive home,” Nicholas says at one point.

“We’re not leaving just yet. I got a room for us for the night, I figured we’d just leave in the morning.”

It seems to click in his head that as soon as they leave the venue, he’s finally going to be getting out of his cage. He gives her a grateful look and rushes off to wrap things up, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste. Cam watches him go in amusement, mindful of the key that’s still around her neck, tucked beneath her hoodie.

By the time that the stage has been broken down and the equipment has been loaded, Nicholas looks as if he’s going to have some sort of breakdown if he doesn’t get to leave soon. If anyone else has noticed how off he is, they’re being very polite about it. For all Cam knows, they either already know or they’re scared that Nicholas will tell them exactly what’s going on and traumatize them all. She can never be too sure in this group.

He all but drags her out of the venue as they leave, and he’s practically squirming in his seat on the cab ride to the hotel. She was lucky he even thought to grab his bags from the bus before they left. But all it takes is one hand firmly placed on his knee and Nicholas seems to settle right away, blowing out a breath and leaning his head back against the seat.

“Not much longer,” Cam promises, and he gives her a jerky nod. “Hey, look at me. Are you absolutely okay?”

He turns his head and meets her gaze. His eyes are still a little unfocused, but he gives her another nod. “I’m okay. It’s just been a long two weeks. You’ll take it off once we’re in the room?”

“I promise, baby. I’m gonna take care of you.”

He’s a little more subdued once they get to the hotel, and once they get into the room, he sits his bags down with hers and turns around to look at her expectantly. Cam takes her time in pulling off her hoodie and taking off her shoes. His eyes immediately go to the key where it’s standing out against the front of her shirt, and she sees his hands twitch at his sides.

“Go ahead and take off your clothes for me?” she asks softly.

Nicholas hadn’t bothered to change out of his stage clothes before they left the venue, and he leaves everything in a messy pile on the floor. Cam knows the flush on his face and chest is still lingering post show endorphins, but she also knows he has one goal right now. Stepping closer to him, she undoes the clasp on the chain and takes the key off of it. She watches the way he shifts around almost nervously, and she presses up to kiss him on the forehead before turning her attention to the cage.

His breath hitches and he stifles a whine in the back of his throat as she unlocks the tiny padlock and eases the cage off of him. She doesn’t touch him any more than she needs to and when she raises her gaze to him, she can see tears of relief gathering in his eyes.

“Why don’t you go take a shower, it’ll make you feel better,” Cam catches his jaw in her hand, squeezing just a little. “But no touching.”

He looks as if he wants to argue, already half hard and moments away from full on pouting. It’s cute. But finally he grabs his shower stuff from one of his bags and disappears into the bathroom. Cam waits until she hears the water start before she finally moves from where she’s standing. Taking a deep breath, she goes through the normal motions that she does every night at home; makes sure both of their phones are plugged in, changes out of her clothes into one of Nicholas t-shirts and a pair of sleep shorts that she probably won’t even be in that long. The check out time tomorrow isn’t until eleven in the morning, and she plans to use as much of that time as she can to their full advantage.

The shower cuts off and a few moments later Nicholas appears in the bathroom doorway, haphazardly drying off. She still thinks about that day in the hotel room in Wyoming when they got back together every time she sees him like this. She can’t help but walk over to him, taking the towel and scrubbing it through his hair for him. He’s still tense and she knows exactly what he needs.

“Come over here to the bed,” she says, pulling him along.

She crawls to the middle, leaning back against the pillows and Nicholas moves to follow her. She stops him before he can get close enough, gesturing for him to turn around so that his back is to her chest. He does it without complaint, though she’s sure he might be a little confused. Before he can ask, she leans in and presses a quick kiss to his cheek, before reaching over and picking up a bottle of lube off of the nightstand. She can feel it when his breath hitches in his chest.

“Camille—”

“Shhh,” she pours some lube into her hand and reaches down, wrapping her fingers around Nicholas’ cock. “Just let me take care of you first, okay? We’ve got all night.”

His only response to that is to arch up into her touch, a quiet moan falling from his mouth as she moves her fist in a slow stroke up. She pauses at the tip, giving him a gentle squeeze only to make him louder. Not wanting to rush this, she repeats the motion, enjoying every noise she drags out of him with each twist of her wrist. His hips rock up into her touch greedily, and Cam peppers kisses along his bare shoulder to urge him on.

“My needy boy, keep making those sounds for me,” she murmurs. Nicholas whines and squirms, one of his hands clamping down on her thigh. “You’re so hard for me, aren’t you? It doesn’t seem like you’re going to last that long. It’s been two weeks”

Cam doesn’t tell him he’s not allowed to come. It seems so cruel after he’s done so well while he was away. And she tells him so as she cards the fingers of her free hand through his hair, tugging just a little on the damp strands. She can tell that he’s trying not to come yet though, that he’s trying to drag this out even though she promised him she’d take care of him, and she speeds up her strokes. Each desperate sound he makes sinks into her skin and turns her on even more. But this isn’t about her right now, and she gives him all of the attention he deserves.

“Don’t hold back on my account, Nicky, just let go.” she urges.

He curses and knocks his head back against her shoulder, body going taught as he spills over her fingers and his stomach. She’d be surprised how messy it was if it hadn’t been so long for him. Eventually he’s got to wrap his hand around her wrist and pull her hand away, gasping for air. He grabs for the towel to clean them both off before flopping back against the bed.

“I missed you,” he mumbles, and Cam grins, leaning over to kiss him.

“Did you miss me, or did you miss orgasms?”

She’s fucking with him, because she can. He lets out an exasperated noise and gives her a playful shove, crawling over her. “Shut up, I’ll show you orgasms.”

“Oh, you're gonna get bossy on me now, Nicholas?” she asks. She loves the way he blushes at that.

“I don’t know,” he says with mock indifference. “You gonna lie back and let me take care of you now?”

She loves him like this too, and the answering kiss he gives her knocks her head back into the pillows and makes her stomach twist pleasantly. One of his hands comes up to cradle her jaw and she melts into the mattress when his other hand starts pulling at the waistband of her sleep shorts. Cam opens her mouth for him, lets him lick his way inside, and she reaches down to help get her shorts off. They get tangled around her ankles, but she manages to get them off and toss them aside. Nicholas’ hands move to get her out of her shirt, and then they’re skin to skin, finally.

“You didn’t answer my question, Cam,” he says as he drags his nose up her cheek. “Can I take care of you now?”

How the hell can she deny him when he asks her like that? “Of course you can, baby.”

He ducks his head down, kissing her neck tenderly, before he starts to move down her body. Cam would tease him about his oral fixation but honestly she wants his mouth on her as badly as he wants to put it there. Anywhere he wants. Rising up on her elbows, she watches as he drags that mouth over her stomach, across her hips. He grips the undersides of her legs, pushing them up until she hooks them over his shoulders like he wants. 

Cam sighs and sinks her fingers into his hair as he presses his mouth to her, a soft parody of a kiss that starts out slow but becoming more firm presses of his tongue as he tastes her, teasing over her clit. While she had no problem not teasing him tonight, he doesn't seem to have the same sentiment as he moves slowly in a deliberate way that says she hasn't been restricted from coming in fourteen days. A ridiculous sound escapes her lips and she scratches her nails over his scalp when he dips his tongue into her briefly before pulling back and licking upward again. When he lets go of one of her thighs long enough to slip one of his fingers inside of her, Cam shudders and her hips buck up.

She can feel his laughter against her, even when he never takes his tongue off her clit, but then he's adding in a second finger and causing her to squirm more. Her hips shift back and forth and he moves easily with her, letting her ride his face and yank his hair. She doesn't have to worry about hurting him, she knows he likes it. She was already on the edge to begin with, just from seeing him fall apart for her so easily earlier, but when he crooks his fingers up into that spot inside of her at the same time his lips close around her clit, she can't do anything but let herself fall back against the bed and let her orgasm wash over her.

Reaching down, she pulls him back up to her by the jaw and seals their lips together. She can feel him getting hard against her again and she reaches down to dig her nails into the flesh of his ass, just for him to twitch and grind into her. It doesn't matter to her that her entire body is still buzzing from her climax, she still needs him inside of her now.

Nicholas pulls back a little, “Turn over for me.”

He gives her the room she needs to roll over onto her stomach and she tries to stay still as he trails his lips up her back and shoulder. His hands are everywhere and she gasps as she feels him dragging his cock between her folds. When she tries to rock back and get him inside of her, he pulls back, laughing again.

“You’re gonna spend the drive home in that cage again Nicholas, I swear to god.”

“Promises promises,” he says with no small amount of glee at the idea that he has the upper hand here. “You’ve gotta have some patience, Camille. You said I could take care of you.”

She can’t exactly argue with his logic, Looking over her shoulder, she realizes that’s what he wanted. He wanted her eyes on him as he finally sinks fully inside of her. Her breath leaves her in a gasping rush, both of them freezing and reveling in the moment of being together like this again. Finally she gives in and she arches back into him. This time he lets her, his hands sliding up over the swell of her ass, tracing up her spine and sliding back down to grasp her hips. He pulls her back into each thrust and her mind starts to go fuzzy with overstimulation and the drag of his cock inside of her. Cam doesn’t think she needs to be touched to be able to come again, she thinks this is more than enough.

His forehead presses into the curve of her neck and she feels his teeth set into her skin. Her stomach clenches and she inhales sharply, mouth dropping open. It's just another sensation shooting through her body. One of her hands comes up to tangle in his hair, trying to keep him as close as possible. It’s in the back of her mind that every single hotel in the world has the most shitty insulation and they’re probably giving some poor soul an earful. Each lungful of air leaves her in a choking moan and every time Nicholas pulls back and starts mouthing at another section of skin she feels dizzy.

It's too much and she comes with a sob of his name. His hips piston into hers relentlessly, fucking her through her second orgasm as he chased his own. Cam can hear him whispering in her ear but his words are intelligible over the thudding of her heart in her chest. He finally comes, his fingers slotting between hers as he buries his face into her hair and goes still against her.

“Stay still for me,” he murmurs and Cam nods slowly. She doesn’t think she could move if he actually asked her to.

She hisses out a breath when he pulls out, long past embarrassed when she realizes she can feel his come dripping out of her. His touch skates over the back of her legs, and he nearly falls off of the bed to get another towel to clean her up with. She thinks about a shower, or taking advantage of the very big jacuzzi bathtub that this hotel room has, but it all requires moving. Sweat cools on her skin and eventually Nicholas lies back down beside her, pulling her over onto his chest.

“Thank you,” he says.

Cam’s eyebrows raise, “Are you thanking me for the sex, Nicky?”

He huffs out a breath, cheeks going a little pink. “I’m thanking you for believing that I could do what I did.”

“Oh, baby,” she reaches up to card her hands into his hair again, managing to lift herself up to press a kiss against his forehead. “I never doubted you for a second.”

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[littlemourningstarr]

Do You Mourn the Passing of the Hours?

Former Professor Emmrich Volkarin had spent years settled into a quiet life running a small, quint flower shop in Nevarra. He expected that any excitement was far behind him. Enter, Lucanis Dellamorte. Professional assassin. Antivan Crow. A possessed man. A possible bad decision to take in Lucanis after an assassination goes slightly off kilter, and suddenly Emmrich finds his life is full of far more excitement than he'd ever had. But maybe, for the man who had begun to experience the world through a cloudy window of fascination but never truly partaking, the excitement would remind him what it was like to truly be alive again.

Chapter Nine!

Pairing: Emmrich Volkarin x Lucanis Dellamorte, Emmrich Volkarin x Spite, Emmrich Volkarin x Lucanis Dellamorte x Spite

Read below or on AO3!

Tags: tags to be added as we go, modern AU, flower shop AU, demonology AU, former professor Emmrich, still assassin Lucanis, physical hurt/comfort, scent kink, Spite is a little freak, mentioned/discussed past Viago/Lucanis, background Teia/Viago, pinning, slow burn, hand kink, masturbation, background Bellara/Irelin, biting, hand jobs, blow jobs, anal sex, anal fingering, surprise piercing, canon style violence, virgin Lucanis

Emmrich woke to a sweet warmth, tucked against him, as his phone chirped his alarm at him. He lifted an arm, reaching behind him, managing to find the offending technology and snooze his alarm.

Against him, Lucanis stirred, gave a little groan and stretched his legs, pushing his face further against Emmrich's neck. He mumbled something entirely inaudible, and Emmrich had to laugh lightly.

"Come again?"

Lucanis pulled back, looked up at him with sleep heavy eyes. "I'm throwing your phone out the window."

Emmrich laughed again, smoothed back some of Lucanis's hair. He leaned down, kissed Lucanis gently- his heart thudding painfully at how pliant and warm Lucanis's mouth was. He was heavenly, rising from the depths of sleep.

He kissed him again, unable to restrain himself, and Lucanis pushed against his mouth, opened his lips and begged for a deeper kiss. Emmrich cradled his cheek, found he couldn't deny him, tendrils of warm static beginning to spread throughout his body at the feeling of Lucanis's tongue, at the warm plush of his cheeks, the points of his teeth.

Emmrich had such an urge to devour him.

Lucanis made a pleased noise, around Emmrich's tongue, his hands finding his chest, twisting his pajama shirt in his hands. For a moment Emmrich thought a button might give, and he'd feel Lucanis's fiery skin against his own bare flesh.

Emmrich's phone chimed again, and he pulled back, forcing himself to collect himself as he untangled from Lucanis. He sat up- a painful process with Lucanis splayed in his bed, looking up at him, and brushed a hand back through his hair, pushing it from his forehead.

Lucanis smiled at him, over the motion. "You look good less put together."

Emmrich cleared his throat, felt an aching need rising in his groin. The only thing he could do was reach down to give Lucanis's hair one final touch with his fingertips, before he forced himself to rise and leave the bedroom.

Emmrich would admit to no one that his shower felt like ice, but he feared if he was given even a moment of comfort, he'd fall into the memory of Lucanis's mouth and the desires it made roll in his belly. So he took discomfort in order to remain tact.

When he returned to his room, hair wet and slicked back, dressed again in his pajamas, Lucanis was no longer in bed. He took the chance to close the bedroom door and change into his clothes for the day.

Once he'd settled his jewelry into place, he headed back to the bathroom, drying his hair and ensuring it was held back and proper. As he did, the scent of coffee wafted up through the house. It made him smile, felt comforting.

He heard Lucanis on the stairs, as he was finishing up, his shockingly light footsteps as he proceeded down the hallway. Emmrich took a moment to ensure his hair was going to stay in place, then left the bathroom, heading down the hallway.

He found his study door open, Lucanis perched on the edge of his desk, nursing a cup of coffee. Another sat next to him. "Don't worry," Lucanis said, "there's plenty of sugar in it."

Emmrich chuckled, walking into the room and ignoring the cup, reaching up to grip Lucanis's chin firmly in one hand. "I appreciate the sentiment, but you're sweet enough for me."

Color bloomed along Lucanis's cheeks, the bridge of his nose- oh, he was adorable. Emmrich leaned in, pecked his lips gently, before he stepped back and picked up the coffee, taking a tentative sip. It was indeed sweetened enough for him, thickened with cream as well.

Lucanis was watching him, dark eyes taking in every movement, every breath, like he was memorizing Emmrich. He felt like he was burning, under that stare. The fact that he'd had the man beneath him, hands pinned to the pillows, the night prior- it didn't matter that it hadn't ended with clothes abandoned and Emmrich's name as a gasp on Lucanis's tongue, it was still thrilling. It felt like it shouldn't have been, like it was too good.

"Should I bring home a bottle of wine tonight?" Emmrich asked, as Lucanis finished his coffee before he'd even downed half his cup. "I feel like I should still be trying to win you over, after all."

Lucanis choked, reached up to press the back of his hand to his mouth. Emmrich set his cup down then, slotted himself into the space between Lucanis's legs, guided his hand away. When he did Lucanis moved first, closed the gap between them for a proper kiss, the kind that seemed to pick up exactly where they had left off in bed.

Lucanis got his arms around Emmrich, clutched at the back of his sweater, kissed him desperately, as if Emmrich might disappear. It was dizzying, the room beginning to tilt as Emmrich felt his thoughts muddying, his mind starved of blood as it pooled in his groin, his cock giving a heavy throb with need.

He should pull back- but he didn't. The thought felt like blasphemy, and instead Emmrich pushed Lucanis down, so that he sprawled on his back on the desk. Emmrich's notebook and pen clattered to the floor as he leaned over Lucanis, blotted out the light of the room.

Lucanis hooked one leg behind Emmrich's thighs, forcing him to stay close, and Emmrich wanted him. He wanted him in such a way he hadn't wanted anyone, in so many years. He wanted to taste every inch of this man, to watch him fall apart with just his fingertips, and then his tongue, and then-

Emmrich pressed down to his mouth, forced the kiss to be slow but deep, had Lucanis squirming beneath him. He could feel the air buzzing about them, knew Spite was right beneath the surface, not taking over Lucanis but sharing in the sensations.

Gods, he'd kissed the spirit last night, too. But Spite felt like a part of Lucanis now, something that Emmrich had to love as well-

The word had him straightening up, breaking the kiss. Lucanis stared up at him, kiss reddened lips and a heady darkness clinging to his eyes.

Emmrich swallowed the lump in his throat, stepping back when Lucanis unhooked his leg from behind his thighs. "I have to open the shop," he managed, although it felt like a pathetic excuse.

Lucanis sat up slowly, hands splayed on the desk, and only nodded.

"But I'm coming back. Later." Obviously he was. Emmrich wasn't sure what he was saying, or why. He reached up, pinched the bridge of his nose. "I sound like a complete fool."

Lucanis laughed- the sound was rich, made Emmrich feel warm in every bend of his joints and hollows of his bones. "Trust me, I wouldn't sound any better." Emmrich let his hand fall down and Lucanis glanced around the study- he truly hadn't been in here much, since he'd begun staying with Emmrich. Most nights Emmrich gathered whatever he might be researching- which was less and less and each time- and would join him on the couch for the evening.

Lucanis slid off the desk and walked around it, ignored Emmrich's closed laptop, and nodded to a drawer that was slightly ajar. "Oh, that drawer always sticks… wait." Emmrich hurried around the desk, reaching down to jerk it open, remembering why he had opened it in the first place, so many nights ago, before Lucanis had even settled into his home.

Tucked inside were two knives- the wicked blade Lucanis had killed a man with the first day the met, the other thinner, shorter, but rather intricate. The knife that had stabbed him. Emmrich had cleaned them and tucked them away to return, and then had simply forgotten.

"I meant to give them back to you." Lucanis nodded, reaching in and pulling out the knife that had been used against him. In the light the blade gleamed, nearly glittered, the faintest inscription visible. Emmrich hadn't realized when he'd been cleaning it and felt the grooves that it was writing, he had thought the blade may have had some wear and tear. Lucanis ran his thumb over the blade, before he set it down. "Does it say something?"

"Yes." Lucanis folded his arms. "I don't know what." It clearly wasn't in their trade language, and if Lucanis didn't recognize it, Emmrich presumed it wasn't in Antivan, either. The Crow turned, offered Emmrich a small smile. "This will keep Spite and I busy while you're away."

Emmrich nodded, although something in his belly had gone cold. He had a horrendous gnawing in him about this that he couldn't explain- nothing more than a gut feeling, than intuition.

*

Emmrich found himself surprisingly busy, when he'd been in the shop only an hour and had received a large order from the university. He'd gotten orders in the past from the university- various events- but it always felt a bit strange.

He tried not to think what his former colleagues might think of him now.

The order took most of the day to prepare, and required delivery that evening. He sent Lucanis a text that he'd be late that evening- but he would not forget the wine he'd promised.

Getting back a Don't be too late, Spite gets anxious somehow made his heart jump. He wanted to ask about the engraving on the knife they had noticed that morning, but kept getting so wrapped up that it slipped his mind entirely.

The sun was setting as he pulled into the university. The drop off for the array of arrangements was easy enough, near the large auditorium they used for their more popular academic speakers. Emmrich didn't recognize the man on the advertising poster, outside the door.

Was he so removed that he no longer knew who was relevant?

The thought made him uncomfortable, gave him a lost feeling in his chest. He forced himself to swallow it down, as he climbed back into his car, driving across the campus, the opposite direction of the exit.

He parked outside a large building- one that had once hosted his own office. He had endless memories of late nights here, grading papers, sitting with struggling thesis students- even just lost in his own research and musings.

He picked up the planted lily he'd had buckled into the seat next to him and headed inside. The decor hadn't changed much over the years- but that wasn't strange. Universities were known for never being with the times.

He glanced at a directory near the elevator, and smiled when the name he was seeking was exactly where she had last been. The same office. He wondered if it had changed at all.

Emmrich got into the elevator, rode it up a few flights, and then headed down the hallway. Many of the doors were shut, lights off- but he was pleased to see light seeping from underneath her door. He paused, rapped his knuckles against it, and heard a calming, "Come in," in a tone that never once wavered.

Emmrich opened the door, found Myrna leaning over her laptop, typing so quickly the clicks of her keys all bled together. She had a concentrated yet calm look on her face, dark hair pulled back in her ever-sleek ponytail. He couldn't remember a time he had ever seen it down, actually.

She glanced up, and her stoic demeanor faltered, for just a moment. Perfectly lined eyes widened ever so slightly, her lips parting, before she composed herself. "Emmrich?"

"Hello Myrna- I hope it wasn't too rude of me to stop by unannounced." He stepped in and closed the door, walking for her desk and setting the plant on the edge of it. "White lilies were always your favorite."

She smiled, closing her laptop, gesturing to the seat in front of her desk. "Your visits are never rude. Should I be flattered that you still remember?" Emmrich settled down, and Myrna folded her hands, wrists and rings adorned similarly to Emmrich's, leaning said hands on her desk. "It has been a long time."

It had been. Myrna was the last of his former colleagues to drop off from those discussions over coffee and tea. She'd been one of the only people to visit his shop, to reach out for more than his just academic mind.

She had been one of the best friends he'd had, at the university. And he had let the communication lapse, he knew. He hadn't spoken with her in more than a year- he could have sent her an email, dropped a call or text-

But there was something that made him want to pull away from those he knew- the embarrassment of no longer being one of them. Even if Myrna had been in favor of his theories.

"It has." He folded his own hands in his lap. "And I apologize for that. I left far too many of your messages unanswered."

Myrna shrugged a shoulder, the gentlest movement. Every reaction from her was so small it could easily be missed. "You have a life outside the university."

"Not nearly as much as you'd think." Emmrich sighed. "Regardless, I am sorry for letting our friendship slip. And I promise, despite what I am about to ask, that I am not only here because I need something."

A faint smile, a flicker of bemusement in her eyes. Excitement. "Using our connection for your own benefit? Emmrich, I thought more of you." Her tone was slightly teasing- most would miss it, but to Emmrich it was dripping in unspoken laughs. "I jest."

"I know. I haven't forgotten how to read you, my dear."

"Good. What do you need?"

Emmrich took a deep breath. "I've met someone who is dealing with a possession, and wants to sever his ties with the spirit. My issue is that all common knowledge on possession often ends in the death of the host themselves, and certainly the spirit attached. I don't believe either want that."

"Either?" Myrna pushed her chair back, stood up. "You've spoken to the host?"

"Oh he is very much present. He and the spirit are coexisting currently." Myrna stared at him, and Emmrich added, "I've never seen such a case."

"No. None of us have." She walked around the desk, her heels clicking on the floor, and leaned against it, folding her arms. Myrna was one to prefer to stand when she was thinking. Sitting was too idly for her, but pacing would have been far too much emotion and reaction.

Instead there was the gentle tap of her fingers against her own arm.

"I'm just curious if there have been any additional developments academically on the topic. Any new theories that could be worth exploring."

Myrna thought for a moment. "Yes, some. I can get you the information. But, Emmrich…" she paused, long enough for one more tap of her fingers, "this is exceptional. A case study like this would be of exceeding interest to the community. To your place here in academia."

She didn't need to spell it out- Emmrich had known, since he'd first realized what was going on with Lucanis. The man could easily be his ticket back into proper academic standing. He could return to the world he had devoted most of his life to- and he could further argue his own theories on spirit disposition in a world different than it had been ten years prior.

But… "I'm sorry Myrna," he offered with a small, sad smile, "but this isn't a case study. The gentleman is… dear to me. I have no desire to publish papers about him as if he was a nameless test subject. I simply want to help."

There was a long stretch of silence- not even the tap of Myrna's fingers broke it. But finally, she gave him a small smile. "Smitten, professor?"

Oh, what was the use of hiding it? "Very much so."

She nodded. "I never expected to see a day where you loved someone more than knowledge." Emmrich opened his mouth to argue loved was a strong word, but Myrna was already pushing off her desk, heading back around it. "I will send you all of the recent papers on possession theory- I assume you still enjoy physical copies as well? If you have a few minutes I can print them for you."

"Oh, you know me too well." Emmrich stood up as Myrna opened her laptop again, walking around her office. It had changed somewhat- new books on display, yes- but mostly it remained the same.

He paused at a display of bones on the wall- shards from various creatures that had once been theorized to make spirit communication easier. Or considered suitable bait to draw a spirit out for study. Disproved, yes, but still widely kept as fun ideas for entertainment purposes.

"Myrna?"

"Hmm?"

"Are staff still allowed access to the bone library?"

She glanced up, noting where he was in the office. "Yes, it has not changed. Although there are many younger staff members and students who do not see the historical art and importance of them."

Emmrich nodded. "In that case, I have a second favor to ask you."

*

Emmrich pulled up his driveway, noting it was far later than he had expected. He texted Lucanis when he'd left the university at least- told him he'd pick up a bottle of port and then be home.

The lights were on in his home- the lower level stark against the very dark outdoors. His porch light was on, which he had not left on that morning- and he smiled to himself at the subtle thoughtfulness.

He got out of the car, walked around it to open the passenger side door and collect both the wine and the heavy folder he'd left Myrna's office with. He'd have plenty of reading to do in the upcoming days.

He shut the door, his mind already very much leaving the idea of reading behind. He had been replaying the feeling of Lucanis's lips against his own in the back of his mind all day, and while he did not want to come on too strong, he very much intended to kiss the man upon first sight.

He was only a few steps from the car when he heard a conglomerate of noises- the rush of air that came with someone jumping, a grunt upon impact, and the sound of a body thudding into the ground.

He turned, just to see a flurry of motion. It was so quick he couldn't make sense of it, but he clearly heard, "Emmrich move!"

He jumped back, as the shadows took shape- Lucanis, who had yelled to him, being thrown off a man's back. The man stood up as Lucanis skidded across the ground, reaching into his pocket and grimacing against the sound of glass breaking.

Emmrich swore he could smell blood in the air-

Blood magic.

He dropped the bottle of wine and his folder, fisting his keys between his fingers as the man lifted his bloody hand from his pocket. He was speaking, not words Emmrich recognized, but it didn't matter.

He ran at the man, attempted to punch him square in the chest. The man grabbed his hand, didn't seem to care when the keys punctured into his palm, and tossed Emmrich aside with a strength that was simply inhuman. Channeled, from something.

Emmrich hit the ground with his breath rushing out of him, just to see Lucanis back up, rushing the man, shoulder down. He barreled into him, knocking him to the ground, the air smelling electric, like ozone suddenly.

Spite.

Before the spirit could fully take root, the man yelled something, a barked word, and Lucanis slumped for a moment, as if the energy had been sucked from him. It was enough time for him to be shoved off the man, roll a few feet away.

The man was up, taking no time to kneel over Lucanis, reaching into his jacket. Emmrich scrambled his hands along the ground, found the bottle of wine which had rolled from the driveway into the grass, and grasped it by its neck. He pushed himself up, time feeling as if it slowed as the man freed a knife from within his jacket and attempted to stab it down into Lucanis's chest.

Lucanis had his hands up and around the stranger's wrists, was pushing with all his might against the downward motion.

Emmrich ran, lifted the bottle, and with a grunt of effort, brought it down into the back of the stranger's skull. The glass shattered, the overly sweet, syrupy wine drenching the man's neck and shoulders, down along his back, as he lurched forward. The single moment of reprieve was enough for Lucanis to get his knee up into the man's gut, before he pushed him off.

The stranger rolled onto the grass, and Lucanis was quick to pluck the knife from his hand, straddle his body, and embed the blade into his chest in a single, fluid motion. The man gasped, and Lucanis twisted the blade in his chest, teeth bared and eyes seeming to glow, despite the fact that they were still near black- as if just a hint of Spite was creeping through.

Emmrich stood, panting, some of his hair falling against his forehead. He watched as Lucanis let go of the knife and stood up, reaching up to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, studying the dying- no, no, already dead- man for a moment.

Then he stepped over the body, turned, and ran to Emmrich. He got his hands on Emmrich's face, cradled his jaw, his eyes dark and wild and terrified.

"Are you alright?"

Emmrich nodded, shaken. He couldn't recall a time where he'd ever been attacked.

Lucanis got his arms around Emmrich, pulled him into an embrace, holding onto him tightly. It lasted for only seconds, but it was enough to make Emmrich sink back into himself.

"Give me your keys," Lucanis said, as he stepped back- only one step. He was still close. Emmrich handed them to Lucanis without question. "Go inside. Lock the door. Do not open it for anyone- not even for me."

"What are you-"

"Making a body disappear." He moved for the car, opening the back door, and Emmrich felt stupid when he asked,

"Shouldn't be call the authorities?" Lucanis shot a look back at him- and , yes, quite right, not a good idea. There was another death on Lucanis's hands. One that Emmrich would be looked at as an accomplice for.

Lovely.

Emmrich grabbed the folder off the ground, heading for the door and opening it. He all but tossed the folder towards the stairs, frowned when he noticed Lucanis's boots still tucked away neatly with his shoes. He grabbed them, turned around to see Lucanis had stripped the man of his jacket, pulled the knife was from his chest, and was hoisting him into the backseat of Emmrich's car.

Emmrich walked over, strides long and quick, as Lucanis straightened up, and pressed the boots to his chest. "Are you in just your bloody socks?"

The Crow only shrugged a shoulder, but did lean against the car to shove them on. Emmrich glanced back at the house- and noticed a window from the living room was open.

And recalled the rush of air, the sound of someone jumping.

"Did you jump out the window?" His voice was rising, alarm lacing his voice. Lucanis straightened, then moved back to Emmrich, looking as if he wanted to wrap his arms around him and never let go.

"Spite sensed something," he offered, as he reached out, took his hand, traced one of the fine bones there. "Inside," he said, his voice breaking as he added, "please."

Emmrich took a single breath, but nodded. Lucanis dropped his hand and he turned, heading back into the house. He pulled the door shut and locked it, watched when Lucanis climbed into the car and pulled away- headlights off, the car barely a ghost in the dark, inky night.

Emmrich walked briskly to the living room, pulling shut and latching the open window. The chill from outside had already crept in, and he shivered. He pulled his phone from his pocket, frantically typing out a message to Bellara, wanting to ensure she was safe. He hadn't seen her that day with the large order from the college and the young woman needing to spend part of her evening prepping for her thesis defense.

Once done, he gathered up the folder and the mess of papers that had flung out of it, taking them upstairs and leaving them on the desk in his study. He went into the bathroom, flicked the light on, looked at himself in the mirror.

His hair was no longer swept back- much of it had come free of its hold, dusting his forehead. And along his jaw there was a single red smear- from when Lucanis had held his face.

He turned on the tap, scrubbed at his face until the blood was gone. Water dripped from his rings when he turned the faucet off, the chain of events beginning to sink in.

Someone had attacked him. Him. Why? He couldn't fathom anyone ever finding enough issue with any of his former work to care to such an extent.

No, he couldn't have been the point. The point had to be Lucanis. He left the bathroom light on and headed down the stairs, going straight for the door. He unlocked it, threw it open, and rushed out into the night- knowing he was completely ignoring Lucanis's one request.

In the grass with the remains of the broken wine bottle was the knife the man had used. Emmrich picked it up by the handle- which still held a hint of warmth, from Lucanis's hands- and rushed back inside, shutting and re-locking the door. He bounded up the stairs, back to the bathroom, turning the sink back on and shoving the knife under the water stream. Blood splashed along the white porcelain sink, before it diluted to pink, as Emmrich shifted the blade, trying to wash all of the blood from it.

Once it was clean, he turned off the water and pressed it fingers along the flat of the blade. In the harsh bathroom light he could see the etching in the metal, could feel it under his fingertips. He hurried out, barely remembering to turn the light off, and went for his study.

He hit the light and went for his desk, opening the drawer that had held the original knife from when he'd met Lucanis, and finding it empty. He set the knife on the desk and hurried out, nearly storming into the room Lucanis had been sleeping in, previously.

He hated to step into a space designated for the other man- privacy was important- but he didn't hesitate to flick on the light head for the knife, the moment he saw it, set on the dresser.

Back to his study, and he was comparing the two. They were different sizes- the one from the previous night was a thinner blade, the handle set with a few glimmering red stones. The one from only moments ago was heavier, had a subtle curve to it, the handle felt like bone.

But the inscription… it wasn't the same. But Emmrich saw characters that matched- the same language, at least. Most likely.

He collapsed into his desk chair, both knives on the desk now, and tipped his head back, exhaling. He scrubbed his hands over his face, tapped his foot- realized in the rush he'd never bothered to remove his shoes.

He heard the sound of Manfred, jumping up onto the desk. He straightened up, noted the cat was watching him, tail flicking, his stare expectant.

"Quite right Manfred," Emmrich mumbled, mostly to himself. "It's no use to not have my head on straight. I just need to get a hold of myself." He reached out, gently scratched Manfred's chin, smiled as the cat began to purr. "Everyone has someone have a go at their life at least once, right?"

The look Manfred gave him did make him think the cat disagreed. Strongly.

Once he had calmed himself, Emmrich removed his shoes, took the time to store them back downstairs properly, before he went about turning off the lights that had been left on, through out the first floor.

Then he waited in the living room, Manfred taking up a space on his lap in the arm chair.

He wasn't sure how long Lucanis was gone- but eventually as the night drew on, Emmrich heard the low rumble of his car, returning. And then the click of keys, in the door, as locks were undone.

He was standing before the door was fully opened.

Lucanis stepped in, barely had it shut behind him, before Emmrich was leaving the living room, hurrying into the entrance way and reaching for him, holding his face gently and noting that Lucanis looked exhausted. "You're alright?" he asked, much as Lucanis had, moments after the attack.

The Crow nodded, let his eyes fall shut for just a second, moving in closer to Emmrich. "You're thinking of asking me."

"Come again?"

Lucanis opened his eyes. "You're thinking of asking me what I did with the body."

Emmrich cleared his throat. "It had crossed my mind…"

Lucanis pulled from his touch, turned and re-locked the door. He removed his boots, before saying. "It's handled. That's all you should know." He paused, before he added, with a hint of a smile. "I promise you won't need to deep clean your car."

"Oh, let us thank the Maker for small miracles." Emmrich's voice was thick with sarcasm- and unexpectedly, Lucanis laughed. The sound had Emmrich smiling. "You should come upstairs- I have the man's knife."

"You what?"

Emmrich ignored the question, turning and heading for the stairs. Lucanis followed close behind him, into his study, as Emmrich walked to the desk, nodded to both blades he'd left out. "I cleaned it off so I could examine it better- the inscription is quite similar to the one used on you previously. Not the same, mind you, but I do believe they're the same language."

"You went outside, after I told you to lock yourself inside, just to get the knife."

"Well, yes."

"Mierda." Lucanis reached up, pinched the bridge of his nose. "What if there was someone else out there, waiting?"

Emmrich folded his hands together. "Would you have left if you thought the man wasn't alone?" Lucanis's hand fell away from his face and he simply stared. "Your silence is answer enough."

"I should be so annoyed with you right now." Lucanis moved closer, got his hands on Emmrich's waist- held on, as he had, once in the kitchen- but firmer, without the threat of pulling away. "But I'm not."

Emmrich is safe.

Spite, spoken separate from Lucanis but so close. The spirit must be resting inside him.

"I am quite safe Spite. I believe we all are, for the moment." He placed his hands on Lucanis's chest, splayed them, could feel the slightly elevated beat of his heart against one palm.

"But what if you hadn't been?" Lucanis's voice was soft, pulling from a constricting throat. Emmrich opened his mouth to answer- but had nothing. He pinched his lips together as Lucanis added, "What if we had been slower, what if one thing had been different?"

He pulled Emmrich closer, so Emmrich was forced to slide his hands up over his shoulders. Their chests pressed tight together, Lucanis's hands locking at the small of Emmrich's back.

"I think," Lucanis admitted, "I might have gone mad." As he spoke, his eyes flashed- for a moment shining amethyst, Spite's subtle agreement.

"Theoretical only," Emmrich said, as he got a hand in Lucanis's hair, tangled the thick, dark locks around his fingers. "I am quite fine." And added, after a moment of pause, in a lower voice, "You can check if you like."

Lucanis surged forward, pressed his mouth to Emmrich's. The kiss was desperate, felt as if Lucanis wanted to get himself under Emmrich's skin. The older man didn't mind- he nipped playfully at Lucanis's lip, pulled at his hair to help angle him so he could kiss the Crow deeper.

Lucanis urged him back a step, and Emmrich bumped into his desk. He heard one of the knives slide slightly at the movement, before he was too distracted by Lucanis's tongue pressing along his to even care.

Lucanis slid a hand under his sweater, splayed it on his bare back. Emmrich shivered- Lucanis's skin was burning in such a perfect way. His Crow pulled back, panting softly, as Emmrich's other hand not in his hair skimmed down his side, plucked at one of his belt loops.

"There are much more comfortable places for this," he offered, "if you're willing."

Lucanis hesitated for just a moment, before he nodded. He pulled from Emmrich's touch, took a step back so that Emmrich wasn't pinned to the desk. The older man took his hand, led him from the study towards his bedroom.

He didn't bother with the light- had Lucanis barely past the door before he was tugging the younger man in for another kiss. Lucanis melted against his mouth, the eagerness still there as his hands roamed Emmrich's chest, fisted in his sweater. Lucanis was pushed tight to him, and Emmrich slipped a leg between his thighs, lost his breath as he felt the very obvious shape of the younger man's cock, pressing against him.

Lucanis whined into the kiss, pulling back, still panting, his hips rolling slightly against Emmrich's thigh. Emmrich gently tugged at the hem of his shirt, and Lucanis leaned back enough that he could grasp it, pull it up over his head and lose it in the dark of the room.

Emmrich felt his throat going tight, eyes darting to Lucanis's chest, taking in firm muscle, dark skin, the dark hair along his pecs. Gods, why was he so beautiful?

Emmrich took his hands, turned them both so that Lucanis, with only one step back, bumped against the edge of the bed. He leaned into Lucanis's neck, kissed his pulse point, the other man tipping his head, offering his neck as a gift.

Emmrich's deft fingers slipped between them, worked at Lucanis's fly as he kissed the length of his neck, before moving to his ear, pinching his earlobe between his teeth. Lucanis openly shivered, as Emmrich pulled the zipper of his pants down. He slipped a hand in, cupped Lucanis through his underwear, had the other man biting his lip, pushing against his hand. The heat alone coming off Lucanis could have left Emmrich delirious.

"What do you want, darling?"

Lucanis opened his mouth to speak, but simply swallowed down a needy noise as Emmrich continued to fondle him, the younger man's cock twitching through the fabric of his underwear with every beat of his heart. Emmrich leaned back, just enough to see Lucanis- his face was flushed, his dark eyes seeming so large, so sure and yet lost.

Lucanis licked his lips, managed in a voice that broke over only a single word. "You."

Emmrich made a feral noise, a rumble from his chest that he didn't even recognize, as he grasped at the waistband of Lucanis's underwear, tugging at them along with his pants. The Crow covered Emmrich's hands with his own, helping to push his clothing down, until it was pooled around his ankles and Emmrich was gently guiding him back, onto the bed.

He took the time to cup the back of Lucanis's head as he settled, ensure he was resting on the pillows. The man looked at him with adoring eyes, this endless dark that could have swallowed Emmrich whole and kept him locked away for an eternity.

It would have been a lovely way to go.

Emmrich's hand moved to Lucanis's shoulder, skimmed over his chest- fingers playing at his chest hair, following it down to his belly. Fingertips brushed his navel, before following the trail of dark hair to his groin- the whole while Lucanis was chewing at his lower lip, breathing hard. Emmrich was used to excitement in his partners- even if it had been quite a while- but Lucanis seemed to be raw desire and need, unrestrained and responding to every feather touch as if it had been his first.

Emmrich made a point to avoid his cock- instead let his fingertips dance towards his thighs, so he could marvel at how soft the skin of Lucanis's inner thigh was.

He had the urge to feel it between his teeth.

Before he could do more than register the thought, Lucanis reached up, wound his arms around Emmrich's neck and pulled him down, kissing him again. Emmrich nearly fell onto him, his hand having to move from Lucanis's thigh to brace on the bed, as Lucanis kissed his mouth until it was tingling, buzzing.

"You're wearing too much," the Crow managed between kisses. The bluntness of it had Emmrich pulling from the kiss, laughing as he tipped his forehead against Lucanis's.

"How very rude of me." He pulled away, carefully removing his sweater and folding it quickly, setting it on his bedside table. Lucanis pushed himself up so he was sitting, was openly staring at Emmrich.

For a moment, the older man felt a twinge of embarrassment, running through him, with the way Lucanis seemed to be so thoroughly studying him. He felt utterly drab compared to the naked man in his bed- where Lucanis had toned, lean muscle, Emmrich was slim, fine bones under pale skin with a light layer of fat and muscle. Lucanis looked like a god, and Emmrich-

Emmrich felt like a weather-worn statue, smooth and devoid of the details that made one breathtaking.

But Lucanis was looking at him with unbridled lust, eyes devouring every inch of skin, like Emmrich was in fact the god himself. And when Lucanis whispered, "more," eyes flicking down Emmrich's torso to the waist of his pants, the strange embarrassment and fear washed away.

Emmrich felt like he was the most handsome man in the world, under Lucanis's gaze.

He shed the rest of his clothing, before he climbed onto the bed, directly into Lucanis's lap. He straddled his thighs, one hand slipping between them, letting his eyes finally dart down to Lucanis's groin.

His cock was hard, rigid against his belly, leaving a smear of precum against his skin. He could see his cockhead was flushed, as it poked out form his foreskin- and when he wrapped his long fingers around his shaft, gods he felt so heavy, thick.

Lucanis tipped his head back, exhaling, fingers shaking as he gripped at the blanket beneath him. Emmrich stroked down slowly, pulling his foreskin back- the single movement causing a rush of precum to soak against Lucanis's happy trail.

Emmrich's own cock was hard, but he utterly ignored it. He was far too enraptured in the way Lucanis simply felt in his hand- and add in the little noises the man made as he began stroking slowly- it could have short circuited his mind, his entire being.

He leaned in, his other hand cupping the back of Lucanis's head, holding him steady so he could kiss him slowly. Lucanis broke to it, whimpered against Emmrich's mouth, his hands leaving the bed and grasping at the man's slim waist, holding on with bruising force.

Emmrich hoped it would bruise. It would be a lovely reminder in the morning.

He got Lucanis's lip between his teeth, tugged on it as he felt precum trickling over his fingers. "You," he whispered, "my boy, are simply soaked. Do you always get this wet?"

The flush to Lucanis's cheeks was so dark it would have been alarming, if Emmrich hadn't felt the way his cock pulsed. "You can't just say that," he mumbled, and Emmrich moved to kiss his jaw, Lucanis's beard tickling him slightly.

"Oh but I can, and I did. You left the question unanswered…"

"Does a gentleman ask that?"

Emmrich glanced at Lucanis- caught a playful glint in his eyes, the teasing tone to his voice. "I can assure you," he whispered, moving to breath directly into Lucanis's ear as he stroked faster, "I'm a gentleman- but there is no place for a gentleman between the sheets, darling."

Lucanis shivered, hips rocking up, head tipping back. Emmrich kept his head cradled in his hand to help support it, the man's breathing coming faster now. He moved back to Lucanis's neck, nipped at the warm skin, savored the salt of his sweat, his thumb rubbing up over Lucanis's frenulum, along his cockhead, smearing the pulse of precum from his slit. Lucanis groaned, squeezed his eyes shut- and then with a broken, rattled noise, his body went tight, stiff. Emmrich felt the rush of cum as his lover found release, splashing up against his thumb, running down Lucanis's shaft, over his fingers, his rings.

Lucanis was panting, as Emmrich stroked him through the orgasm, whispered little sweet nothings into his neck. He clutched tighter to the older man's waist, and Emmrich wondered what it would feel like for Lucanis to snap his very bones, bare handed.

There was a crackle to the air, and Emmrich lifted his head, caught a glimpse of amethyst between Lucanis's thick, dark lashes. The man blinked and it was gone- but it was obvious that Spite was inside him, reeling at each feeling Lucanis experienced.

Emmrich paused his hand, leaned back enough that he could lift it. Lucanis's cum clung to his fingers, his palm- and gods, he wanted to know what this man's very marrow tasted like.

He brought his hand to his mouth, ran his tongue up the side, gathering a large trail of cum, until his tongue brushed one of his rings. The bitterness burst over his tongue, salty, yet so alluring. Lucanis watched with blown eyes, before he was pulling Emmrich to him by his waist, taking his mouth as if he was dying and this was his last moment with Emmrich.

Emmrich gasped into it, surprised at the sudden movement, as Lucanis fell back onto the bed, Emmrich hunched over him. His hand pressed to Lucanis's chest out of instinct, leaving smears of cum in his chest hair as Lucanis bucked his hips up, warm skin pressing tight to Emmrich's erection.

"Can I…" Lucanis started, as Emmrich's cock dragged against his thigh.

Emmrich smiled, playfully nipped at his lip. "Not yet," he whispered, "I'm not as virile as you are, dearest. And we're not done…"

He let himself lay out between Lucanis's legs, mouthed down his chest, tongue gathering up some of the mess he'd left behind. Lucanis squirmed, arching when Emmrich let his tongue roll over one of his nipples.

"Is this alright?" Emmrich asked, kissing the bud gently. Lucanis swallowed thickly, managed a nod, and Emmrich smiled before he sucked at it gently, let his tongue roll over it as it hardened in his mouth. Lucanis bucked again- and oh, his cock was definitely still somewhat hard, refusing to calm as Emmrich continued to touch him. It slid against Emmrich's, had Emmrich grunting into Lucanis's chest. He moved to the other nipple, worrying it with the points of his teeth, as Lucanis got his hands in Emmrich's hair, undoing what little proper control there was to the strands.

Emmrich squirmed a hand between them, slid his palm over Lucanis's cock, cradled his balls for a moment to enjoy the rush of breath that left him, before his fingers slipped further, along the sensitive flesh past his balls. Lucanis bucked, a sharp of intake breath shattering the room, as Emmrich's fingers pressed against his hole, teasing it lightly.

"If this is too much," Emmrich whispered, pausing to kiss the center of the man below him's chest, "tell me. I have so many things I could do to you, my boy."

Lucanis bit his lip, didn't answer- and after a moment, when Emmrich began to withdraw, his eyes glossed over purple, before shining.

And Spite, clearly through Lucanis's mouth, "No. More. Give him. More. Give us. More."

Emmrich traced his hole, but kept the touch feather light. "Spite, I need to hear it from Lucanis as well."

Lucanis blinked, his eyes returning to their blown blackfire, and he nodded- seemed unable to form the words. Emmrich pulled away despite this- and Lucanis whined, reached for him as the man settled up on his knees, leaning over the bed.

"I'm not stopping," Emmrich promised, "not unless you ask me to." Lucanis nodded, released his hold on Emmrich's wrist, and he reached for his bedside table, pulling it open and reaching in, fingers grasping a rather full bottle.

He leaned back, set the bottle on the bed, and chose to rub his hands up along the insides of Lucanis's thighs. The skin felt like burning silk, unmarred, unscarred- and Emmrich paused, pressed his thumb against where he knew Lucanis's femoral artery would be- could feel his heart beat as his blood pumped with a fury beneath the skin.

"To feel you between my teeth…" he whispered to himself, not even realizing he had spoken- not until Lucanis groaned, spread his legs further, a whispered please. Emmrich dragged his eyes up to him- "A promise for another night," he offered, his heart stilling for a moment at the thought of other nights.

That this could be something.

He gently guided Lucanis to bend one of his legs, dig his heel into the bed. The other he pushed wide until he feared discomfort for his lover. Then, with Lucanis watching, he carefully removed the rings from one of his hands, leaning over him to pile them on the bedside table.

When he returned, he grabbed the bottle of lube, opening it and pouring an overly generous amount onto his fingers. He thought to ask Lucanis how he preferred this- would he like Emmrich to go slow, did he adapt easily to the feeling of being penetrated-

But Lucanis was just staring at him in awe, wonder, desire, pure rapture, and the words died on his tongue. He reached down, slipped his hand so his fingers could push between Lucanis's ass, trace his asshole and spread the wetness of his fingers along it.

Emmrich reached out with his other hand, splayed it on Lucanis's belly. "Inhale," he whispered, and the man did. "Exhale." As Lucanis did, Emmrich slipped a finger inside him. The breath ended in a choked whine, a gasp of shock, and Lucanis went tight around Emmrich in the first instant. Emmrich rubbed his thumb along his belly, teased the hair leading to his groin. "You're alright. Am I hurting you?"

"No." Lucanis swallowed, relaxed slightly. Emmrich moved his finger slowly, thrusting it lazily, studied Lucanis's face for discomfort. It melted quickly as he began to squirm, hips rocking, only mostly held down by the hand on his abdomen. He tipped his head back, let out a moan- and as he did, Emmrich slipped a second in. Lucanis gasped, a broken mierda leaving his lips, as his hands scrambled along the bed, searching for purchase.

Emmrich bent over him, pressed a kiss to the hollow of his ribs as Lucanis sucked in a breath. Smiling against his warm skin, Emmrich curled his fingers, taking not even another breath to find that sweet spot inside Lucanis- the moment he pressed to it Lucanis dug his shoulders into the bed, arching so forcefully he jarred Emmrich, nearly set him off balance, as he gave a sharp yet pleased cry.

Emmrich positively grinned to himself, mouthing up Lucanis's chest, continued to push at the spot. "Alright still?"

Lucanis choked, tried to lift his head- but the way Emmrich drummed his fingers inside him had him simply tossing it back. Emmrich could handle him wordless, so long as he remained easy to read.

He moved to thrusting his fingers, wanting to ensure Lucanis was comfortable. As he did the man seemed to regain some sense of his body, one hand planted firmly on the mattress as he pushed himself up, grabbed for Emmrich with the other and dragged him in for a kiss.

It was mostly Lucanis panting against his mouth, but Emmrich didn't mind. Especially when he caught the scent of ozone, and then Spite, through Lucanis's mouth, a broken yes, the sort of sound he didn't know the spirit could make.

"I can add another," he offered, "if it would make you more comfortable."

Lucanis shook his head, the flush on his cheeks running down his neck, leaving him looking thoroughly fucked out already. Emmrich moved to kiss his cheek, affectionately, before he pulled back. He gently pushed Lucanis back onto his back, watched him squirm into the pillows, as he pulled his fingers from his body.

Emmrich reached for the lube, pouring more onto his palm, before leaving it in the blankets as he stroked himself slowly. It took every ounce of control not to thrust into his fist- his body was wound tight, buzzing- but he wanted every second he could have, inside Lucanis.

Lucanis, who was watching him, lips parted, eyes intent on the movement of Emmrich's hand, studying his cock. Emmrich felt a flood of self consciousness again, hells it really had been too long since he'd been with anyone-

"Is that…" Lucanis trailed off, and Emmrich glanced down, before he simply laughed. He bared his cock in a way that Lucanis could clearly see his piercing- a curved golden rod through his urethra, the balls of the jewelry pressed flush to his pale skin, one just beneath his cockhead.

Perhaps he should have mentioned that…

Before he could speak at all, Lucanis was sitting up, reaching for him, wrapping his own fist around his overly slick cock, so he could roll his thumb over the piercing, watching with rapt attention. Emmrich bit his lip to stifle a groan, trying hard not to thrust desperately into Lucanis's hand.

He had to force himself to reach for Lucanis's shoulder, gently push him back. "Careful," he whispered, "or this will be over far too soon."

Lucanis rolled his thumb along the piercing one last time, before he stretched back out, spreading his thighs wider. There was a fresh smear of precum on his belly.

Emmrich shuffled closer, his still bejeweled hand rubbing along Lucanis's thigh, as the other held his cock steady. He slid the head against Lucanis's hole, heard him exhale in anticipation- and took that moment to slide inside.

Emmrich bowed his head, groaning, the feeling of Lucanis's muscles making just enough room for him causing the room to spin. His body was hot, his insides like the burning silk of his thighs, making Emmrich so dizzy he squeezed Lucanis's thigh in his hand.

He paused when he had Lucanis's ass nestled up to his pelvis. The man was panting lightly already- but a glance at his cock had Emmrich smirking playfully. He was fully hard again.

He reached with his bare hand, ran his palm up over his balls and teased them, before wrapping it around his cock, stroking him slowly. He felt Lucanis relax around him, mind distracted by the sensation of Emmrich's hand.

He leaned over him, hair falling against his forehead, tickling the shells of his ears, catching Lucanis's wild stare. "You're alright," Emmrich whispered, softly.

Lucanis licked his lips. "I think I'm going mad." At that he shifted the leg Emmrich wasn't holding, hooked it behind his legs, forced Emmrich to push even deeper. Lucanis groaned, head tipping back, eyelids fluttering. "It's so…"

He paused, as Emmrich rolled his thumb over his cockhead.

"Good." His eyes flashed under those lashes again, and Spite's voice echoed him, "so good."

Emmrich smiled, released his cock so he could plant a hand on the bed to steady himself, easing his hips back before thrusting into Lucanis. His lover arched, reached for Emmrich's shoulders, hands scrambling over them, onto his back. Emmrich felt his blunt nails dig in as he thrust, threatening to leave little crescent indents in his pale skin.

Emmrich felt choked, with each thrust, Lucanis's body a sort of heaven he hadn't been prepared for. And the way he was clutching at him, squirming beneath him? Looking at him with huge, blown eyes-

Emmrich kissed him, tore at his mouth with tongue and teeth in a way that was very much not gentleman-like. And Lucanis went tight around him, kissed him back in kind, dragged his nails down Emmrich's back so the older man was hissing into his mouth.

He was so torn, between kissing Lucanis and wanting to see him. After a nip to the younger man's tongue, Emmrich pulled back, arched back up again, got both his hands on Lucanis's thighs and held them open. Each movement tore a noise from his Crow's throat- a whimper, a whine, even a plea for more. He thrust harder, watched the way Lucanis's back bowed, the glorious jut of muscle and bone as his body contorted in bliss.

His own body was aching, his spine a static, seething mess. His belly and balls ached, his entire pelvis tight- but he would not come before Lucanis. Maker and dead gods, on his honor he would not.

"Lucanis," he breathed, panting now himself. The man looked at him, and Emmrich offered a hand. Lucanis took it, and Emmrich guided the hand to the man's cock, urging him to take himself in hand. Lucanis did, Emmrich's hand around his, as the older man guided him to stroke himself. Lucanis bucked his hips up into their combined fist, before driving himself down onto Emmrich, causing Emmrich to see white in the corners of his vision.

Lucanis cried out when Emmrich squeezed his hand, tightening the pressure around him. His dark lashes were wet, lips swollen from all of Emmrich's kisses, each drag of his teeth, and gods he looked beautiful.

Emmrich released his hold on Lucanis's hand, moved to grasp at his thighs and push at them, bending Lucanis slightly so he could get deeper inside him. Lucanis cried out Emmrich's name, and for a single moment Emmrich swore he was going to come, every muscle in his body going taut at the sheer desperate and yet worshiping sound of his name on Lucanis's lips.

He bit his cheek until he tasted iron, and the near bliss pushed back down.

"Lucanis," he managed, the man's name feeling like a prayer. His Crow beneath him was panting heavily, chest heaving with each breath, little noises escaping that gorgeous mouth with each thrust, each stroke of his fist. "Darling, it's alright." Emmrich jerked him back over his cock. "Let go."

Lucanis cried out, arching his back off the bed, his body clenching at Emmrich's cock as his own spurted a thick line of cum over his belly, onto his chest. Emmrich watched, utterly enraptured, swearing he had never seen a partner look so divine when they reached their release. Lucanis seemed completely unreal.

The younger man hadn't even relaxed around him when Emmrich felt his own pleasure cresting- and he groaned Lucanis's name, hung his head as he buried himself as deep as he could get in his body and finally came. The rush of sheer bliss left him breathless, his entire body humming with ecstasy. Lucanis gave a little groan over the feeling, and Emmrich dared to bow over him, seek out his mouth. Lucanis got his arms up around his neck, held on desperately as Emmrich kissed him, the two still interconnected. The kiss was hard but almost lazy- Emmrich simply wanting to have every inch of himself in contact with Lucanis.

When the angle finally caused his spine to ache too much, Emmrich pulled away, gently easing back. Lucanis bit his lip, swallowed down a hiss of breath as Emmrich left his body. Carefully, Emmrich maneuvered over Lucanis, stretched out alongside him, reaching for his cheek so he could cradle it.

His thumb rubbed over a damp streak on his cheek, and Emmrich leaned in, kissed the corner of Lucanis's eye, tongue darting to taste the salt of his euphoric tears. When he pulled back, he moved to kiss the bridge of his nose. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Lucanis managed a single shake of his head. "I don't think I'm inside my body," he admitted, and Emmrich chuckled.

"So it was alright, I take it?"

Lucanis grinned then. He pulled Emmrich in for another quick kiss, before he admitted, "The understatement of a lifetime, Emmrich. Mierda, I didn't know it would be that good…" Emmrich arched a brow, slightly confused, and Lucanis fell back to the pillows, stared up at the ceiling. After a moment of hesitation, he whispered, "I'd never…" he reached a hand up, waved it in the air, gesturing to them.

Emmrich choked. He'd hadn't realized- he hadn't even considered- "I hadn't realized…" He paused, before simply blurting out, "You're gorgeous. I just assumed you'd had an array of former lovers."

Lucanis chuckled at that, carefully rolling onto his side, so he could face Emmrich. "Only one," he admitted, "and he and I never got very far." He paused, then added, "My friend, Viago- it seemed every time he and I managed to get close Illario would interrupt."

Emmrich had to laugh at that. "Your cousin has awful timing."

"You have no idea. I half expected him to jump out of your closet while you were…" he trailed off, cleared his throat, and whispered while pointedly not looking into Emmrich's eyes, "…fucking me…"

Emmrich felt a shiver run down his spine. He pulled Lucanis closer, kissed his hair. "I am most grateful he did not. Now, if you say that again…"

"That you fucked me?"

Emmrich groaned. "Yes- that. Keep saying it and I'll have to do it again, my dear."

Lucanis perked up then, asking, "Can you?" before it was Spite who came through.

"Yes! Again. More!"

Emmrich laughed, before he paused for a moment. With a playful smile, he eased Lucanis back onto his back, carefully climbing over his leg and settling down between his legs.

"I'd need a bit more of a reprieve before I could do that," Emmrich admitted, as he grabbed the lube and poured more onto his bare fingers. "But I can most definitely make up for that."

He slipped his now slick fingers beneath Lucanis, felt little resistance as he slipped two inside him. He was still wet from being fucked, lube and cum mingling and making him feel heavenly debouched around Emmrich's fingers.

Emmrich turned, kissed Lucanis's thigh, as his lover writhed, groaning with each pump of his fingers. His mouth ghosted over the skin he had so badly wanted to bite earlier- and Emmrich gave in, dug his teeth into flesh, hard enough to leave imprints but not quite hard enough to break skin.

Lucanis howled, his body clenching around Emmrich's fingers. And then, clearly Spite, growled out, "Yes, yes! Break us, bleed us!"

Emmrich shuddered, digging his hips into the bed. Gods, maybe he wouldn't need to wait that long to take Lucanis again. He pulled off the flesh that had to be throbbing now, kissed it affectionately, before he leaned over Lucanis's pelvis, dragged his tongue up along his cock as it rested on his belly.

Lucanis choked, couldn't even finish Emmrich's name as the man took his cockhead into his mouth, toying at it with his tongue. He pressed his fingers up against Lucanis's prostate, massaging it firmly, and Lucanis squirmed, shoulders digging into the bed, hips rocking so his cock slipped deeper into Emmrich's mouth.

Emmrich took it with ease- out of practice he may have been, but he always enjoyed a lover using his mouth. His body hadn't forgotten how to relax his jaw, keep his throat at ease as Lucanis fucked his jaw with utter abandon. Emmrich's free hand rubbed the tender spot he had bitten, applying pressure occasionally and loving how Lucanis whined for him.

He dragged his tongue up along the underside of Lucanis's shaft, his mouth salty with precum, as he dared to push a third finger into him. When he did Lucanis gasped, body tensing, and he spilled over Emmrich's tongue, against his throat. He swallowed as best as he could, but gods, Lucanis filled his mouth anyway, until Emmrich was pulling off, swallowing thickly and gasping for breath, lips shiny and flushed, slightly swollen.

He pulled his fingers from Lucanis, crawled over him, accepted the kiss his Crow so eagerly gave him- Lucanis licking his own come from his mouth, groaning as Emmrich's tongue pushed at his own. "I assure you," Emmrich whispered, as he pushed Lucanis's legs apart more with one of his thighs. "The second time is far better than the first."

And the way Lucanis smiled told Emmrich he would indeed be proving that tonight. Not that he minded in the slightest- a sleepless night sounded like perfection, in that moment.

[outlying-hyppocrate]

(:

[chuluoyi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘

- sylus x reader

from strictly professional to lovers. everyone acknowledges you as his woman, but how far will he go for you when he realizes you are in danger?

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—brief smut, very self-indulgent, injuries, descriptions of violence and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc)

note: hi i'm back! <3 and with another part of the assassin!reader series that started with strictly (un)professional :D

Your lover is, without a doubt, a sex god.

He was insatiable, and he could do it anywhere. Before you could blink, he had shed himself of his clothes, saying something along the lines of “the sun’s way too hot today.”

As soon as Sylus pulled you into the pristine bathroom, he immediately pinned you against the shower wall and crashed his lips into you in a senseless kiss. His lips, hot and demanding, pried yours open, leaving no room for resistance.

“Ahh—hah—” His hands worked with dizzying speed, undoing your skirt and blouse in one swift motion, leaving you in nothing but your bra and underwear.

A startled gasp escaped you as he pulled at the drawstring of your panties, making them slide down with ease to gather at your feet.

“—!” You rode him, pressing your body close against his bare skin. You grabbed a fistful of his hair, jerking his head back as you gasped for breath, your chest heaving. Locking eyes with him, you shot him a glare. “Incorrigible… bastard…”

“Just the way you like me, hmm?” his perfect lips curled wickedly, before going for your lush lips once again.

It wasn't long before he made you an utter mess of moans and groans—when he slid inside you, stars burst behind your eyes. The way he stretched you, filling every inch, never ceased to catapult you to the heights of pleasure.

And when you rode him, taking him deep with every bounce, that you tasted the sixth heaven.

“Do it like you mean it, sweetie.” Sylus’s velvety chuckle brushed against your ear as he pressed a firm hand against your lower back, adjusting your angle on him. His gaze never wavered, fixed on your expression as bliss overtook your every feature.

“Shut up,” you hissed, dragging your sharp nails down his back. He only smirked, unfazed by the sting, as if the pain were nothing more than a tease.

The relentless man and his fierce lady. As the sounds of sex filled the air, as the tight knot inside you burst and as he held you steady when you went limp in his arms—

In that hazy, blissful moment, a thought settled in your mind— you truly wished that you were indeed made for each other.

. . .

“Tired already?” Sylus let out a satisfied snicker, a gleam in his eyes as he lazily ran his fingers through your hair. Now fully clothed and basking in the afterglow, the two of you sprawled across his bed.

You let out a soft whine, before sighing and nuzzling your face into him. “Just let me be, please. ‘m so sleepy…”

“Boohoo.” A smile was still on his face even as your lips were pursed into a pout. The way your smaller frame curled so defenselessly next to him each and every night made that tender part inside him even more fond of you.

You were rough, you didn't mince words, and most of all, you weren't afraid of him. You grew on him day by day, no one got him better than you.

And now, before he realized it...

The night was still long for him and he was wide awake, but looking at you so peaceful like this...

It was purely by instinct. To put his arms around your waist, to pull you closer, and to press this lingering kiss on the side of your head.

“Sleep well, kitten.”

Beyond the lovemaking and tender nights was, of course, the infamous individuals. The Onychinus leader and his notorious lady assassin.

Throughout all years you had been with Sylus, you knew you were here for a reason: doing his dirty work. That reason wouldn't change even when you had become lovers. You wouldn't want it to anyway.

“I’m telling you, I’m going,” you declared, crossing your legs and lifting your chin defiantly. “I can extract the information much easier on my own anyway.”

Sylus turned to you, his glare quiet but pointed, unamused. “You won't be fast enough.”

“I can!”

“You have to learn to pick your fights, kitten. A kitten can only get out unscathed for so many times before she stumbles.”

“Don't call me kitten!”

It felt like an insult to your ability. It was strange to you how he seemingly prevented you to join him to infiltrate this black market auction. You had gone and came out whole several times already—except for that one time. So, what's different this time?

“I’m giving you the chance to sit this one out and be pretty. So why are you refusing?” he clicked his tongue, exasperated.

“I just want to tag along, why? It'll help you out too!”

“Tch.” He shot you a distasteful look, and you frowned in response. “You’re really meddlesome.”

Now you were positively irritated. “What?!”

The two of you were locked in a glare before he resigned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Do whatever you want, sweetie. Luke and Kieran, go with her.”

The twins next to you nodded dutifully and you threw them a withering stare. You most definitely didn't need these two buffoons to protect you.

“Boss is concerned,” Luke whispered in your ear with a wide grin as soon as Sylus walked away.

Kieran chimed in, “Mm-hmm, he definitely is.”

Is he? A part of you was caught off guard by the twins’ musings, but even if he was, it didn't make you feel better in the slightest.

You were deadly— you absolutely wouldn’t let anyone mess with you, and you were going to prove just that.

“Tell me who’s behind you... or die.”

You pressed the blade coldly against the neck of one of the black market Protocore dealers you caught, yanking his hair back to force him onto his knees.

“So, it’s you—!” he spat, a manic grin splitting his face despite your grip. “The Onychinus leader's infamous slut…”

You yanked his hair harder, eliciting a sharp hiss from him. “Tell me before I make you.”

“Ha. Hahaha!” He cackled, completely unfazed by your threat. This person was definitely not right in the head; even when you were this close to snapping his neck, he didn’t even falter.

“She is scary…” Kieran whispered to his twin behind you.

“No, that weirdo is even scarier. If I were him, I’d kiss Missus’ boots and beg for my life…” Luke retorted, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

The man in your grasp was still undaunted though. "Do you think I'm scared of you, woman? If so, then you're damn wrong because a whore like you can—"

"You misogynistic bastard." Your patience snapped, and you utilized your speech manipulation Evol on him that instant— "Talk."

"Urk—!" He trembled under the binding pressure of your ability, his glare sharp enough to cut, but his lips betrayed him, mouthing the words you sought. "Master... of Solon... Hotel..."

Without hesitation, you drove a punch into his face, sending him sprawling across the scattered cardboard boxes. "Luke, Kieran—let's go."

Your mood had been sour since you geared up for this operation. There was this gnawing irritation inside you that made you want to lash out at everything, and it was taking everything out of you not to.

Sometimes, you thought it wasn't that big of a deal that you were just a mere sidepiece to the leader of Onychinus. Your prized Evol was your everything— after all, it was what drew Sylus to you in the first place.

But lately, you started to think that it was no longer enough. Compared to the Miss Hunter, you were a generic presence in Sylus' life. And his words this afternoon definitely struck you in a way— making you wonder if you weren't good enough all this time.

"Missus, are you okay?" Kieran asked cautiously from behind, perhaps sensing the sharp edge in your demeanor.

You swallowed the bitter knot tightening in your chest. "I am."

"If you don't feel well then you can go straight back to the base," Luke suggested. "We'll meet Boss and tell him it's the hotel master."

You slammed your heel against the ground with deliberate force. "No."

You marched towards the meeting spot with stern gaze. No way. You were going to face Sylus with your head held high, making sure he knew just how lucky he was to have you.

"Please, if something happens to you—"

Crash! A deafening explosion suddenly erupted, throwing you off balance. You stumbled back, barely regaining your footing—only to find the three of you surrounded.

“Ha...” You scoffed, your eyes locking onto the bruised man with split lips—the one you'd manhandled earlier.

But before you could say a word, he lunged, and the absolute worst happened—

“Die!”

Suddenly, your mind blanked as he seized your throat and slammed your head against the asphalt. The impact blurred your vision, and exponential panic surged in as his grip tightened, choking the breath from your lungs.

"—!" You thrashed desperately, clawing at his hands, gurgling as each second drained more strength from your limbs. Lightheadedness crept in, your thoughts scattering into fragments as pure survival instinct took over.

You would die. If this went on any longer—no, you were going to die.

“You have to learn to pick your fights, kitten.”

The agony was beyond excruciating, a crushing force that felt like it pierced straight into your soul, if such a thing were possible. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring the edges of your vision. Anything—anyone— please—

But the last thing you saw was Kieran being stabbed, his body crumpling, and Luke pinned to the ground, struggling beneath the weight of his captors.

And then—

Your body felt weightless all of a sudden along with the last of your breath.

It was a magnificent disaster.

Sylus stood there, his right eye glowing brightly as he surveyed the wreckage around him—what he brought upon just moments ago.

The destroyed grand hall would serve as a warning to the hotel master. It didn't take him long to figure out that he was behind the raid of his Protocore warehouse and sold them out to the black market dealers.

He had decided this was enough as he stalked out of the hotel— until he was greeted with another atrocious sight.

It was then he saw someone choking on another person on the ground, and even with one look he knew. The terror gripped him so fast that black and red mist shot toward that man, ensnaring him in a chokehold and pried him away from—

You. You laid there motionless.

He sprinted toward you, flipping your body to face him. You were limp, the corners of your lips were bloodied, your neck was crushed and marked with bruises, but most alarming of all—

You weren’t breathing.

“Wake up.” Sylus commanded, taking you in his arms, gently patting your cheek. “Wake up, sweetie. Hey—”

You remained still, your head lolling lifelessly. And right in this moment, the thumping in his chest felt almost painful, because you couldn't possibly do this to him.

The one person who made his days better. He felt like a human the most while being with you, and yet now, you...

“Let me go!” the man behind him snarled, his voice a scream of fury. And as if a switch had flipped, he stopped trying to wake you, turning to him with eerie silence.

Just like that, he gathered you close, standing tall with you in his arms, cradling you close to his chest. The right eye of his glowed sinisterly as he spat out the words:

“Insolent vermin. You have touched my woman.”

His voice dripped with vengeance, the swirls of his red eyes glinted under the moonlight, narrowing as he hissed, “And I’ll make you pay.”

The black-red mist that ensnared the man tightened its grip, and he let out a howl as it choked him relentlessly, desperation flooding his voice.

“No! Graagh—!”

Sylus quietly watched as his bones twist and crack, blood overflowing the hard ground, the life draining from him as he fell like a mangled ragdoll before his entire being exploded into pieces, making him an example for everyone present.

Luke and Kieran were frozen in horror at the grotesque sight, not even a squeak escaping their lips, before turning to their master, with the woman he ever cared about in his arms.

You were beautiful.

Even as you lay still, a cast around your neck and bruises marring your skin, you were still every bit as stunning as you had been before all of this.

Sylus took a seat next to you, his hand cradling your cheek silently. His mind ran through with all thoughts of how you were still going to be in pain even when you woke up.

But at least, he knew you were going to, and that was enough for now.

Twice. It was the second time in which your life was at stake and he found himself on the receiving end of devastating news. The first time, you had truly died, and by sheer luck and compatibility, your body hadn’t rejected the Aether Core. This time, you were caught in a freak accident.

The mere possibility made something inside him burn. It was a given for him to have you always by his side. He didn’t know ever since when you occupied the fondest part of his heart almost wholly— but you did.

—and to see you like this was a painful shot right through his heart.

. . .

The moment you awakened, agony filled in your senses.

Memories came back like a whiplash and adrenaline kicked in, you were about to scream when you realized—

No sound emerged from your throat. You were on the brink of a full-blown panic when a hand gently rested on your arm, and your lover came into view.

“Easy, sweetie,” his baritone voice said. “You’re fine.”

But contrary to the calming words, your body suddenly began to shake uncontrollably. You couldn't distinguish where you were or how you had gotten here; all you could focus on was the haunting image of the man who had nearly choked you to death, and it didn't help that your throat felt like burning.

“Y/N.” Sylus caught your wrists, preventing you from thrashing, worry evident in his face. “What’s wrong?”

You gasped for air, teetering on the brink of tears. Your chest heaved with every breath you could manage, yet despite your desperation, you couldn’t form a single word.

“Don’t talk,” he shushed, realizing your panic, holding your gaze firmly. “Rest for more days and you will be able to. Don't push yourself.”

His voice grounded you, and you clutched at his arm for support. You were still trying to get yourself out of this illusion of danger that kicked all your senses alive.

Seeing your distress, Sylus moved next to you and pulled you into his embrace, gently patting your back. “There, there... I’m here. Nothing to worry about, hmm?”

He is here. You reassured yourself, working to steady your breath. He is here...

His voice lulled you, strong and steady, while his chest felt like a lifeline, anchoring you to the reality you had always had.

He ran his fingers through your hair, pressing his lips on the crown of your head. “So long as I'm here, I won’t let anything of this kind ever happen to you again.”

As long as he is here... You clung to him almost desperately. This was probably the most vulnerable side of yourself you had ever shown him, and yet in that moment, you were a whirlwind of emotions and couldn’t care less.

You aren't good enough. Your Evol is the only thing you have that is more precious than anything, and your fear whispers to you that you might just not hold any special position in his heart...

Strange how any of them no longer mattered that much anymore. When Sylus had you in his arms like this, you were sure. He simply made you feel safe more than anyone ever could.

You just had no idea just how much you meant to him as he whispered his promise into your ear.

“You have nothing to fear with me by your side.”

[xhyjin]

husband toji! who would try his best to spoil you, even when he’s struggling financially. you want a romantic getaway? don’t worry, because he’s already saving up, cutting corners wherever he can, just to see the joy on your face when he surprises you with the trip of your dreams.

husband toji! he isn’t the most romantic man, but he tries his best. when he notices the small smile on your face as you watch a man surprise his partner with flowers hidden behind his back, he makes a mental note. the next time he’s away on a mission that lasts too long, he shows up at your door with a slightly crumpled bouquet in hand, looking a little awkward but secretly proud when he sees your face light up.

husband toji! who loves when you fall asleep on him—not just because he enjoys running his fingers through your hair as you rest on his chest, but also because it’s the perfect opportunity to snap a picture of the two of you. with a smirk on his face in the photo, he sends it to shiu with the caption, “bet you don’t have a cutie laying on you right now.” it always earns him an immediate middle-finger reply from shiu, which only makes his grin wider.

husband toji! who never expected to find himself in this position again—so lovestruck and soft for you that it sometimes scares him. he’s torn between wanting to bare his soul to you and protect you from the weight of his past. he doesn’t know if he should tell you about his late wife and the son he left behind, afraid it might change the way you see him, but also yearning for you to understand the parts of him he’s kept hidden for so long.

husband toji! who knows it’s wrong, knows he should let you be independent, but he can’t help himself. when you think he’s at work, he’s actually following you from a distance, keeping an eye on you to make sure you’re safe. the guilt of shadowing you like a stalker eats at him, but the thought of failing to protect you is even worse. so, he watches quietly, torn between trusting the world and trusting only himself to keep you safe.

husband toji! who finds himself spending money on “useless” and “childish” things like cute plushies or clothes simply because they remind him of you. he’ll grumble about it under his breath, but the moment he sees your delighted smile when he gives them to you, he knows it’s worth every penny.

husband toji! who doesn’t prepare for missions by training or strategizing beforehand, but by taking a long shower using your body wash, your shampoo, your conditioner, and your lotion—anything that smells like you. he sprays your perfume all over his body and clothes, not caring if anyone (shiu) questions why he smells so feminine and sweet. the comforting scent of you clings to him like a shield, grounding him when he’s away and reminding him of the warmth waiting for him at home.

husband toji! who secretly adores when you ask for his help with the little things. need help putting on your necklace for date night? he’s already behind you, gently moving your hair aside, his fingers brushing your skin as he clasps it on, all while staring at you lovingly through the mirror. need help opening a jar? don’t worry—he’s leaning over you in an instant, taking the jar from your delicate hands and twisting it open with ease. before you can thank him, he dips a finger into the jam, tastes it, and smirks, “almost as sweet as you,” he whispers in your ear, walking away just as he catches the sight of your flustered reflection in the marble counter.

husband toji! who sometimes forgets the strength of his own body, so he’s always extra, extra gentle with you. whether it’s holding your hand, pulling you into a hug, or brushing a strand of hair from your face, he moves with deliberate care, afraid of even the slightest chance of hurting you. his touch, though strong, always feels like the softest embrace, as if he’s protecting something he treasures more than anything.

husband toji! who picks up your hobbies just to have more in common with you, even if they’re things he never imagined himself doing—like painting, baking, or knitting. at first, he fumbles awkwardly, grumbling about how “this isn’t his thing,” but before long, he finds himself enjoying it more than he expected. the real joy, though, comes from seeing your excitement as you share these moments together, making him realize he’d try anything if it meant spending more time with you.

husband toji! who, after a gut-wrenching moment during one of his missions, realizes he doesn’t want to do it anymore. he doesn’t want to risk his life when all he wants is to spend it with you. knowing it’ll be hard to convince shiu, he brings you along under the pretense that you’re just meeting his friend. as you take a seat beside him, your face glowing with excitement at finally meeting one of his friends, toji and shiu sit across and beside you, their expressions serious as they speak in coded phrases to keep you blissfully unaware of toji’s real job. toji glances at you, his heart softening at your smile, and silently vows to make his case to shiu—because you’re his reason to walk away from it all.

husband toji! who will gladly hold your purse without hesitation when it keeps slipping off your shoulder, or carry your heels in one hand while giving you his slippers to wear, walking barefoot himself without a second thought. he doesn’t care about the stares or the inconvenience—your comfort is all that matters to him, and he’d do anything to make sure you’re at ease.

husband toji! whose favorite hobby, out of all the ones he picked up from you, is coming home to find you asleep on his side of the bed, wearing his tee and boxers, clutching his pillow to your chest. he gently removes the pillow, replacing it with himself as he slides into bed, pulling you close. with his arms around you, he kisses your forehead and whispers softly in your ear how grateful he is for you and how deeply he loves you, even if you can only hear him in your dreams.

[sleepymarimo]

toji x reader // sfw!

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 doesn’t remember the last time he was gifted something.

“you got me what?” he asks again, kicking his sandals off at your front door for what seems like the millionth time.

you rise from your couch, the wood creaking slightly as you do so. “just some stuff for you to keep here so you stop using mine,” you reply, the shrug of your shoulders indicating how little of a deal it is.

in the kitchen, you rinse out the glass you’d been using. toji’s footsteps are barely audible over the sound of running water.

“there’s a few pairs of sweats in the hall closet,” you tell him, setting the glass down to dry. “and some other stuff in the bathroom. shampoo, body wash, toothbrush…”

the assassin lets out a small huff, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway. “you tellin’ me i reek or something?” he accuses, more so to brush off the odd feeling building in his gut.

“maybe.” comes your playful quip, your head tilting as you rest your weight on the counter and look at him. “but seriously, you just come around so often,”- his nose wrinkles at that, as he knows he crashes here much more than he should- “that i figured i’d just get you your own things. it’s not like it cost me an arm and a leg.”

with a yawn you stroll toward your room, lightly poking his chest as you pass him. “plus, you use up all of my stuff, dummy.”

he grunts, his eyes following you until you’re out of sight. “i don’t need fancy clothes or any of that crap,” he murmurs to himself, taking a few steps toward the hall closet.

his large hands wrap around the handles, sliding the doors open until he sees a pile of clothes resting on one of the shelves. three black tees stacked atop three pairs of sweats, some boxers and socks in a little box, all for him.

he picks up a shirt without hesitation, the fabric smooth against his calloused fingers. his brows furrow in concentration, maybe unease. this is for him, it’s his, and maybe that’s why this shirt is the softest one he’s ever felt.

with a gruff exhale, he snatches a pair of sweats and a clean pair of boxers, his steps unhurried as he heads for the bathroom.

the fan hums above him as the lock clicks into place, his eyes immediately darting to the shelves to see the new toiletries. his stuff.

inside the shower, toji’s shoulders sag.

it’s as if the water is washing away his defenses, the rugged, nonchalant exterior he wears now melting away in the comfort of your shower.

toji pops open one of the new shampoo bottles, taking in the scent and pouring it onto his palm. he wonders if this smell reminds you of him, if you put some thought into each item.

while he rubs it into his hair, he thinks about if he should pay you back. it’s not like he asked you to get him all this stuff, but still.

even when you’d first started letting him crash on your couch, you hadn’t demanded much in return.

“just don’t make a big mess and be decent, alright?” he remembers you saying.

and he was just fine with that. free room and board just for something so simple? he’d be a moron to decline.

it was only after around a week that he felt a familiar itch. he wouldn’t be in your debt, wouldn’t wait for the day when you’d inevitably ask for something.

so, he offered what he always did- himself. that’s what women usually wanted from him, anyway.

his idea didn’t exactly go as planned. if anything, it made him feel more conflicted, made him wonder why the hell you kept him around.

were you just lonely? did you enjoy his company?

“oh, no… i don’t do that,” you’d said, holding your hands up, flustered but adamant. “you don’t have to sell yourself to me or anything. who does that? like, what?”

the water patters on the tile floor, his body and mind feeling more clear and clean than they’ve been in a long time.

when the faucet squeaks shut, he steps out and snorts as he sees a new, fluffy black towel hanging beside yours behind the bathroom door. he grabs it, rubbing his scarred skin dry and running it through the damp strands of his hair.

the new clothes feel like heaven, truly.

in your room, engrossed by your phone, you barely hear the sound of the bathroom door opening. toji’s steps are almost silent, his arms crossing over his chest as he watches you beneath the covers.

he’s amused as you snicker at some post, the dim screen lighting up your face in the otherwise dark room.

“let me crash here, yeah?” he suggests, though it’s more of an order.

you’re startled, rightfully so, hiding your phone against your chest while you sit up straighter. “oh, you scared me! new clothes and you think you’re all that, huh? too good for the couch?”

yet, even as you chide him, you’re peeling back the covers for him, grabbing the extra pillows and moving them out of the way.

a satisfied grunt leaves him as he spreads out on the mattress, careless of the space he takes up. he tugs the blankets over his person, settling in like a big cat.

he curls into you. you don’t mind.

while you scroll along with one hand, the other supports his head and absentmindedly strokes the skin of his cheek.

his eyes watch you, his breaths becoming more steady and even. he’d never admit how much it means to him that you’d gotten him new clothes, new toiletries, practically a new home.

it’s more than he deserves, but he finds himself wanting to take as much as he can get.

he’s yours, even if he doesn’t know it. and, as the days go by, he wonders if you can be his, too.

[navybrat817]

For your consideration:

Imagine Bucky, the strong and dangerous and stern super soldier that by all accounts is terrifying as an opponent, being unable to stop himself from coming in his pants because of you. Maybe you don't even have to touch him; he gets so lost in the taste of you that he has to start grinding against the mattress, and accidentally comes when you do.

I've had this image in my head for days and had to share it somewhere, sorry 🫠

Nonnie, I love this so much. 🫠

Feral

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky gets a little feral now and then.

Word Count: Over 1.2k

Warnings: Oral sex (f. receiving), implied sex, possessive behavior, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky gets in a feral mood every now and then. He may let you know with a text that simply says, “Be ready.” and other days he won't give you a warning at all. By the time you hear his deep growl or see his pupils so blown that the blue irises nearly disappear you know you aren't leaving the bed for the next day. Or two.

Today you don't even hear him coming.

You’re in the middle of a shower when he suddenly shoves the curtain aside, and you’re lucky you don't have a heart attack or slip and fall. A shriek still leaves your mouth when you lock eyes with the ex-assassin and you see the blown pupils, and you're about to have a heart attack for a completely different reason. You hope your schedule is clear because you know he’s going to thoroughly ruin you and you’d rather not try to pull yourself back together for a while.

“Bed. Now.” His growl should make you move, but you’re still under the water and trapped by his massive body.

You don't move around him fast enough and he doesn't care that his clothes get wet when he grabs you and throws you over his shoulder. All he cares about is making you wet. At least he has the good sense to shut the water off before carrying you away. He’s thoughtful like that.

He drops you unceremoniously on the bed, the comforter now soaked as well thanks to your dripping wet body. Removing his shirt and tossing it aside, you get a moment to take in the view of Bucky Barnes looking at you like a man starved. He’s a beautiful canvas of muscles and scars, yet he looks at you like you're a real work of art. You wordlessly spread your legs and invite him to feast on what belongs to him. It would've been rude to keep him from his meal and you weren't cruel.

Not to mention no past lover can ever live up to how Bucky Barnes eats pussy.

He drops to his knees and pushes your legs open more, licking his lips as gazes at your twitching hole on display. He brushes some of the hair from his face to get a better look, and it only makes him look more wild. Untamed. It doesn't take much for him to arouse you, but the way he growls at the sight of you has you feeling like a goddess. You’re on your back, but he’s on his knees ready to worship and you’ll gladly accept his offerings. However he chooses to give them to you.

“I know you’re starving, Bucky. So eat,” you finally tell him, wanting him to have his fill. Whatever puts him in this mood, you’ll go along for the ride.

But before he dips down to feast, he moves up your body like a sleek cat and fastens his mouth to yours. He won't take from you without at least one kiss. You moan low as you kiss him back and feel him grind against you. It surprises you that he still has his pants on, but he’s getting rid of them soon enough.

You can't help but touch one of the scars near his shoulder, making him gasp into your mouth. He’s so strong. So powerful. Life dragged him through hell and he didn't escape unscathed, but he survived.

“Mine,” he murmurs so softly you almost miss it as he kisses down your body. Every kiss is a reminder of who you belong to. You’ll always be his.

“Yours,” you gasp when his nose nudges your clit and he inhales deeply. You remember when the smell of your arousal used to embarrass you, and now you wonder why it ever bothered you since he loves it so much. His metal fingers part your folds and he drags his tongue along your slit with a hum, lapping up your wetness. “Fuck…” you whimper, bringing a hand up to play with your breast.

“Not yet,” he growls, pushing his tongue deep inside.

Your free hand flies to his head and you choke on a moan as you clench around him. If he was speaking more, he’d tell you how beautifully bittersweet you taste, how your pussy is made for him, how desperate you are for him to fuck you with his cock, how you're all he needs. A mix of praise, profanity, filth, and love. Hearing him growl and grunt as he feasts tells you more than enough.

“So good,” he grunts between licks, his flesh hand digging into your shaking thigh when he slips two metal fingers in. You recall gushing all over the metal the first time he made his arm vibrate. He likes having the scent of your arousal on the metal, almost as much as he likes having it on the fingers of his right hand.

You lift your head when you hear shuffling on the bed, your eyes wide when you see his hips rise and dip. You’re all too familiar with that motion. “Bucky… are you…”

“Pussy’s so fucking good. I can't… I can’t stop,” he groans, rolling his hips like he can't stop himself from humping the bed because of how good you taste. “‘m so fucking hard for you.”

Your man’s cock can be sensitive some days. Grinding against him can make him get off in his pants. You went down on him once and just the feeling of your breath against his shaft had him shooting off before you wrapped your mouth around him. And with his rebound rate, you never have to worry if he gets off before you because he’ll still take care of you.

“That’s so hot,” you admit, your mouth falling open when he moves his fingers and tongue in time with his hips. “It’s okay, big boy. Make a mess in your pants for me,” you beg, wanting him to get off to you.

His growl has a bit of a whine to it when he looks up at you, his lips and chin glistening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smile, your fingers carding through his hair again. You don't want him to feel embarrassed.

He looks relieved. “Then make a mess on my face first,” he demands, dipping his head back down and making quick work of building your orgasm back up.

Pulling your hips down to meet his mouth, it isn't long before your orgasm tears through you. Your head nearly falls back as the tidal waves crash over you, but you keep it elevated enough to catch the stutter in his hips and the telltale husky moan against your sensitive hole. It almost triggers another orgasm watching him rut before he slumps against the bed like you.

Your head spins. Your heart pounds. And you smile. Bucky Barnes just came in his pants because you came. Yeah, you feel like a goddess and then some.

“You came in your pants for me,” you breathe. “That’s love.”

Your smile only widens when he pulls his mouth and fingers away to unbuckle his pants, your walls clenching when takes himself out. He’s large and thick as he strokes himself, and you can also see a bit of the evidence of him finishing in his pants. It gets you hot all over again, and now you need to make a mess around his cock while he finishes inside you. It’ll satisfy you both.

“Yeah, that is love,” he groans, brushing his thumb over the weeping tip. He still has a bit of the feral look in his eyes. “Now I need to fuck you with my cock at least twice before I eat again.”

Yeah, you’re in for a long and fun weekend.

I need him, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bunny-jpeg]

i have this little thought bouncing around in my head! single father simon. (a drabble)

*shrug*

simon ends up with his daughter winnie after her mother abandons her at his doorstep. he was the father, it was his turn to take care of her. simon could handle warfare, he could handle guns and sweat and metal. he could handle blood and bruises.

but a fussy newborn was a little too much for him.

enter you, it was your summer off from university and you were making extra money by babysitting for parents who couldn't afford weeks of posh summer camps. it was decent work and you were pretty good with them! so being concerned for your neighbour, simon's well being, you offered to watch winnie.

simon very well fell in love with you the moment you took the baby girl into you arms. winnie instantly got settled into your grasp, almost like you were her mother.

"what a lovely baby girl." you cooed, you looked at her with such affection already. you looked at simon and smiled, "she looks too cute to be yours." a playful jab.

you watched winnie while simon was at work. you didn't know what he did for work, but you tried not to ask too many questions. all you knew was that the checks didn't bounce when you cashed them.

but being with winnie for so many days had gossip go through the apartment building. you had a baby with simon? why were you in two separate apartments? where did the lovely newborn sleep? she SHOULD be sleeping with her mother (you).

when you tried to correct them, simon always said, "ah don't worry. we'll be havin' our own place soon enough!" his large hand snaked around your waist.

you just looked down at winnie who was sound asleep in her stroller. she couldn't care less who her mommy and daddy were. it wouldn't be hard to be the mother she'd otherwise be without, right?

that was the angle that simon too.

you'd make the most perfect mrs. riley. you were already taking care of winnie, but also him when he came home. you shouldn't be the nanny, you should be winnie's mama.

"she really loves you." simon remarked when you went with him to the pool.

you were in a one piece swim suit and you were making sure that the baby was out of the sun and had sunscreen on. you didn't want her to get sick or burned.

currently she was resting on your chest while you were in the shade. in your free hand you had a book in it and the other was on winnie's back. you said, "i don't know what you're talking about." as if you hadn't heard the comments from the little old ladies about how sweet you two looked.

"look like a real mama."

you looked to him and raised your eyebrows, "i thought i was the babysitter, mister riley."

simon placed a hand on your thigh then rubbed up and down, "nah."

it didn't take long for you and simon to get intimate. he asked you to stay because winnie had been having trouble sleeping. you two shared a glass of wine and then you found yourself face first into simon's bed. the scent of him filled your head as he fucked you into the comfortable mattress.

he loved the sound of your pussy as he fucked you without much abandon. the thickness on your hips would only grow once he made sure his next child was inside of you. you'd be such a good mama, unlike that previous bitch who left him.

maybe there was a good reason why she left him.

cum clung to the fuzz on your pussy lips and was a bitch to clean in the shower come morning.

he woke you up and said, "she needs her mama. she gettin' fussy, doll." then watched you stumble around to find clothes to wear while you checked on winnie as if the little girl was your own. his hand was wrapped around his cock. he wondered how many more times he could finish in you before you stumbled back to your apartment.

the answer was four.

it wouldn't be easy carrying for a sprouting little baby plus the baby boy you were currently pregnant with. you've put school off for a little while and moved in with simon, your due date was in the middle of the semester. now you were trying to figure out what food was good for a teething winnie while also trying to manage the riley son that was occupying your womb.

you were making dinner for your growing family with a cute little maternity dress of. simon was at the table with winnie. he knew that one day he'd have to tell her that you weren't her actual mama. but you were raising her and her little brother too.

"see there's mama." simon said in that grumbled voice of his, pointing in your direction.

you didn't imagine that you would've ended up as a stay-at-home mother to two children who were than a year apart. but as you felt the shift of your 'second' baby inside of you, you smiled.

you heard winnie make a little noise to get your attention. you checked on the pot of sauce on the stove before you turned away to check on your little girl.

[nochepsicodelica]

Toji coming home late from a job, exhausted and knowing he messed up with you, again. All he wants is to be comforted by your warm body and to hear you talk his ear off before going to bed together, but instead he finds you fast asleep on the couch. He watches your curled up frame for a minute or two, feeling the achey heaviness of guilt in his chest. He promised you a movie, but things at work didn't go as smoothly as they normally do, and because of it, he's home later than he thought he would be. He doesn't blame you at all for losing your patience and succumbing to your tiredness, rather than fighting it, for his sake.

He smiles softly, admiring the bliss in your features, before quietly heading off to the bedroom to grab some clothes so he can tidy up before he even thinks about touching you.

Toji sees your shower products next to his, and though he doesn't plan on putting them on, like he has before in a state of longing for you, he does pick them up to take a whiff. The smells are as sweet and comforting as you. They help him wind down a little more after the day he's had. Your shampoo and body wash managed to distract him a bit. He stood there frozen, thinking of you as water cascaded down his body, until he remembered that you're in the house, sleeping on the couch, still waiting to see him. He expedites his shower, quickly gets dressed, and hurries up with his hygiene routine so he can get back to you.

When Toji returns, you're in a new position with your limbs all sprawled out. He watches you for another minute or so— you are the image of pure comfort on that old couch. Just being next to you could pass on the effect to him, but you're so enticing, and he really wants to be in that bubble of serenity with you. Before his proper judgement convinces him to carry you to bed, he's crawling between your legs, his eyes on yours the entire time, to make sure he doesn't wake you before he even starts adding his weight onto you.

Your sleep ridden eyes feel heavy as you peer them open and look at the man nuzzling himself into you. You hear the smallest little groans, almost like purring, as Toji continues to try and mold his body into yours. He knows he doesn't fit with you on this tiny couch, but you're so warm, and you smell like the body wash he inhaled in the shower. He's going to make it work.

"Hey, Toji," you mumble, dazedly, still half asleep. He almost melts at the feeling of your fingers running through his damp hair, your nails gently scratching his scalp with every passing. Your other arm comes up to rest on his back. He then realizes he's not close enough. Being right on top of you, with his head on your chest... Not close enough.

"What?" You laugh when Toji starts shifting again, those soft hums returning as he presses himself into you even more. He wants to be greedy and take all the comfort you can possibly give him. "Did you..." you giggle when he settles, his face buried in your neck. "Did you miss me?"

"Miss" is an understatement. Toji was ready to come home and cozy up in bed with you. He was ready to distract you from whatever movie you decided on, with kisses. He was ready for things to evolve into something more. He thought about this all day, and he's home now, and it's not at all what he thought it would be. The sad part is, you're not even mentioning these ruined plans. You're not upset with him for being home so late, you're not giving him the cold shoulder. You're the same loving girl he discussed these plans with in the morning and it makes him feel like a total asshole.

"Mhm. Are you comfortable sleeping like this? I can't move."

"Yes, Toji," you respond, immediately, though you know he's exaggerating. The question lures a soft laugh out of you. "You're acting like this is the first time you've ever plopped yourself down on me."

"Just making sure, doll, 'cause I don't wanna move," he says, with total honesty this time.

"You don't have to. You're the warmest blanket in this house. I scored by getting crushed."

"Yeah? I'm flattered." You can hear the smirk in his voice so clearly.

"And i'm flattened."

Silence. Crickets in the background. Everything is so still, you could hear a pin drop, and to make matters worse, you laughed at your own joke.

"I should go back to sleep," you say, knowing that when your nonsensical thoughts start spilling out, it's time to get some rest.

Toji's grin has yet to straighten out. He can tell you're still tired. He laughs, a sharp breath through his nose, at your ridiculousness. "Silly girl. Are you cold?"

"Impossible. I have a bear on top of me."

"Want me to go get the blanket? Wanna go to the room?"

"Stooooop, i'm fine." You kiss to the top of his head. "Goodnight, Toji."

"Can you do that thing you always do?"

Without a word, your hand goes to the back of his head, and your fingers begin coursing through his hair, again, your nails dragging gently along his scalp, like before.

Toji sighs, contented and entirely at ease. "'night, doll."

[nicholasgoodgirl]

sin? maybe - father charlie

summary: your priest takes you home and it leads to other things

warning: p in v, oral (m receiving), face fucking, after care, virginity loss.

a/n: chat idk how to feel abt this at all and am too scared to read it back. i swear if i spelling his name wrong the whole time. im deleting this acc off the face of the earth

3:23pm

you were waiting in the rain; unbothered than anything. but there was no denying the tempeture change as the rain continued it was beginning to become unbearable. five minutes turning to ten, ten turning to fifteen. your mom still never came

you walked back into the church drenched from all the rain. your white dress sticking to you, it was still cold in the church nonetheless.

"y/n?" you turn around to your name being called "what are you still doing here?" father charlie asked.

"oh my mom never came to get me" she probably drank to much and passed out somewhere, it was embarrassing to admit but thats the only reason you went to church, so you can be far from her and to be nothing like her.

"you're all wet. how long have you been out there?" you shrug at his question. he tilted his head in observation looking you up and down; his eyes lingering longer on your breast.

that would have normally made you uncomfortable if it were anyone else, but it was father charlie and everyone knew him as the 'hot priest' and they weren't wrong either.

he clears his throat "uh I'll give you a ride home" he gave you a quick smile then grabbed his keys off the alter and on the way out grabbing his umbrella.

he put his hand on your lower back guiding you under the umbrella. he gave you the keys so you can unlock the car "why don't you start the car up while you're at it"

"oh i dunno how" you declined the offer politely but he insisted that you did it anyways so he can hold the umbrella for you.

you open the car door and bend over putting the upper half of your body inside the car and trying to start it up like that instead of actually sitting down. the key wouldn't really turn so you put your knee on the seat getting into the car more. while doing this you could gradually feel your dress raise. something in you just knew he was looking up your dress

you give up "i can't get it to start" he lets out a low chuckle and takes the keys from you and gestures for you to get out the car. you hold the umbrella while he gets in the car to start it up. the engine cuts on and he takes the umbrella from you and walks you to the passanger side and shuts the door behind you.

--

3:34 pm

in the car everything he did and had in his car intrigued you. the way he drives with one hand on the wheel and the other hand rested on his leg. the blankets he had in the backseat, the rosemary cross that was hanging from the rearview mirror

"whats your house adress?" he questioned parking at the stop sign, waiting for your answer.

you shrug again "you don't know where you live?" he probed. you did but it was embarrassing to think about how if your moms boyfriend saw you with a guy he would beat you.

"do you wanna come to my house instead" his question was almost hesitant but i accepted the offer with a smile.

--

4:01 pm

his house was nothing fancy, the aura of the place was comforting. he started a fire in the fireplace and it set a more warm tone in the room.

"you can use my shower. just walk down the hall, it's to your right. I'll bring you a warm towel and clothes"

you walk down the hall and take a turn to the right and find his bathroom. it was definitely not like the bathroom at your house. it was clean the, the scent of father charlie lingered.

you undress then walk over to the shower putting it on hot. a couple minutes into the warm water hitting your body changing your body temperature from cold to warm there was knocks at the door.

"It's unlocked!" i yelled from the shower. and the door opens "i have no actual clothes that you would probably wear to bed but you can wear one of my shirts" ,,don't even worry about it" you reassure

it didn't matter to you, you actually liked the idea of prancing around in that mans shirt. you couldn't forgive yourself for how bad you wanted him to fuck you in the shower.

"well call me if you need anything" he opens the door to leave out. "wait!- wait.. father charlie"

"you can just call me charlie" he corrects. "could you maybe talk to me about your day or anything i don't wanna be alone right now"

you could hear father charlie chuckle at the question "sure. why not"

he began talking about his day while i cleaned myself off. he went into detail about how he made his breakfast and how precise everything had to be. meanwhile i just couldn't get the thought of him talking me through sex.

"you're doing so well"

"how does that feel"

"you need me to slow down" the thought didn't stop it felt so wrong but you needed him. you were giving him hums to let him know you were still listening.

you turn the water off "can you hand me my towel" your hand reaches out of the curtain and you can feel the towel being placed in your hand "thank you"

"can i-" he was cut off by you walking out the shower with just your towel on. he cleared his throat "I'm gonna go" he reached for the door but you grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"will you stop it" he snaps. both his hands grab your arm "stop! im trying so hard not to sin but for fucks sake you're making it nearly impossible"his words comes flying out faster than you could process

"oh.." you mumbled. "y'know we can do something about your little problem" you look down at the buldge in his pants.

he wasnt wearing his vestmant anymore he was just in a black button up with some black formal pants making it more noticeable.

"fucking hell" he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "such a slut. i thought you would have been good. looked so pure" he spat almost like it wasn an insult. "guess not"

"have you ever touched youreslf?" the question wasnt one you would like to answer cause you always felt shame afterwards but nodded anyways avoiding eyes contact; not proud of your doings.

"of course you do" he breathed out "on your knees" ,,what?" you question unsure if you heard him right

"baby you have been so sweet to me so far and I'd hate it if i have to repeat myself"

you drop to your knees and he unbuckles his belt not breaking eye contact with you once. father charlie pulls his pants down and his underwear.

you grab his dick and put it in your mouth. hallowing your cheeks out "look at you taking me so well" he tangles his hand in your hair, grabbing ahold of it and pushing your head forward causing you to gag; you could feel him touching the back of your throat.

"lord please forgive me" he whispered so low it's a suprise you even heard the words come out his mouth

at this point he was just fucking your face, he was watching as his cock disappeared into your mouth. after a while your eyes began to water.

he pulls you away from him "stand up" ,,did i do something wrong?" you ask, letting your towel drop, standing to your feet. wanting to fix any mistake you made along the way. "no sweetheart, you did just fine i just wanna be inside you instead"

he turns you over but you weren't as thrilled about this as he probably was. you were a virgin and too scared to tell him.

he bends you over the counter and you grab ahold of it for support. he lines himself up with you and pushes in

"so fucking tight" he groaned. "wait-" you hit the counter top with your hand "please just wait" you whine

he stops what he's doing and waits for your signal to go "you can move.." my words come out sounding almost strangled.

he pushed in and out of you and for a second you can hear his breath hitch "are you on your period?"

"what!? no" you look behind you and see his lips slowly curl into a smirk "you're a virgin aren't you?" ,,mhm" you nod "even better" he gloated

you could feel his dick hit a spot that made your toes curl. the burning sensation goes away with each rut. you let a few whimpers slip and a grunt with every thrust; your body jolting forward.

he gripped your hips tightly to allow himself to pound into you. you could have sworn you felt his tip hit your cervix.

the sounds of skin slapping against eachother flooded the bathroom "you're such a slut. letting your priest fuck you over a bathroom counter"

he pulled your hair back putting you into a deeper arch, to hit your sweet spot. a guttural moan leaves your lips "oh fuck" you moan.

father charlies hand goes down to your clit rubbing firm circles, sharp uneven breaths pulled through you as you could feel your orgasm approching.

with no warning his warm seed coats your insides, as he rides out his high. his fingers continues to rub in circular motion which makes you finish next; unfolding right there.

you hold his hand to stop him. "im done i can't take anymore" you whisper.

"im sure" he pulls out letting a hiss escape, then walks over to the shower and letting the water run again. the both of you get in and shower together.

he got done before you and while you were still getting clean he made you a snack.

--

5:59 pm

you two were laid in bed. your head resting on father charlies chest while he traces light shapes on your skin.

"what do i tell my mom" you ask. "whatever you want sweet girl" he kissed your head. what were you gonna tell your mom, you were with another man in his shirt. and overall he's the priest of the church you go to.

[mywritersmind]

TOUCH ME - LN4

summary : y/n shows her affection through hugs, kisses, and just plain touching. lando is sad when he realizes that she does this with everyone but him.

listen up : no warnings!! cuteness!! singapore win!

word count : 747

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It had been bothering him for months. Lando noticed when he and Y/n started becoming friends. After a long period of not liking each other, the two finally agreed to put their differences aside because of all their mutual friends.

Their mutual friends started becoming the issue for Lando.

She touches everyone. Not in a weird way, she just shows affection through touch… Through touching anyone but him.

Lando watches her in his drivers room, she’s drawing on the small whiteboard; a tiny lando and a tiny y/n in the corner.

“Why do you touch everyone?” He asks out of nowhere, she turns back slightly, giving him a look before turning back to the board.

“My love language is touch… I guess? At least that’s what people tell me.” She shrugs, coming to the end of the drawing.

“But you don’t touch me.” This makes her pause for a moment before finishing off the drawing and turning back around to face the man.

He's sitting on his drivers bed, race suit unzipped half way and water bottle in hand.

“You want me to touch you?” she raises a brow, teasing him a bit.

He looks down at his water, fiddling with the straw, “I just mean- we’re friends, right? You seem to kiss and hug everyone except for me.”

This makes her more uncomfortable, she slips her hands in her pockets and shrugs, “I don’t mean to not. I guess it’s just different with you.”

“How am I different from Oscar or Charles?” He looks up at her again, his eyes so bright, “They both have girlfriends and you don’t seem bothered.”

Y/n laughs, not thinking before speaking, “Yeah because I’m not into them like that.”

Lando’s eyes widen a bit, “But- you’re into me… like that?” Y/n decides there is two options,

1. Confess her feelings for Lando, ruining all the progress they’ve made to have a good and comfortable friendship while simultaneously risking rejection from someone she really cares about.

2. Lie.

Two seems safer.

“Of course not.” she shakes her head.

Lando doesn’t believe her, or he just doesn’t want to believe her, “So why don’t you touch me? Even after I won in Zandvoort you didn’t hug me.” she hadn't realized how much this had hurt him. She was simply thinking about the hundreds of cameras facing them and how she was already blushing.

Someone knocks on the door then, calling out, “Lando, Warm up starting now.” He swallows, looking up at Y/n.

“I’ll go.” She says quietly, wondering how everything so quickly went south, “Good Luck, Lan.”

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Y/n watched the race with Max, on the edge of her seat and sweating. The moment Lando crossed the finish line, a grin was permanently planted onto her face.

After every interview, the podium, a shower, and change of clothes, he walked out to the track where Y/n sat.

She jumped up and hugged him.

“You’re so fucking amazing.” Lando’s heart skipped a beat.

“Enjoy the race?” He smiles as she pulls away, her hands joining and clapping.

“Duh! Everyone else was all boring and whatever but you did so well! Twenty seconds ahead- shit!” even though he was in the race and just had a thirty minute meeting about it, he could listen to her talk about it for hours. “And Lan, about before- I really didn’t mean to hurt you it’s just different and I don’t know why but I swear it’s not to be mean! You’re my friend and-”

“Just friend?” Lando stops her immediately.

She looks up at him, “Well… I always thought-”

“I fancy you. I have for a while.” He just spits it out, his hands on her elbows as she stares blankly at him.

She blinks, “You’re not taking the piss are you because I swear!” He kisses her then.

She’s laughing against him as he pulls her closer, touching her softly and savoring it.

“I like you too.” She blushes. “And fuck you for not telling me sooner!”

He scoffs, “You could have as well! Plus you’re so damn mysterious I couldn’t tell if I should be flattered at your yelling or scared.”

She laughs, kissing his cheek before resting her head on his chest.

He puts his arms around her, his heart beating rapidly, “If you touch your friends like that then i’m damn excited to see how you treat your boyfriend.”

[tbaluver]

When You Randomly Turn Into A Cat- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader synopsis: a day where you randomly turn into a cat and how they love and deep space men would take care and spend the day with you ! genre: silly and cute a/n: hihi lovelies! sorry this took so long to write i had to channel in all the cat videos i loved and seen and put it into each scenario for each men ! (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i also had to make sure some cat facts were true or not just in case and also because i don't own a cat but i rlly want one (•ᴗ•,, ) i hope you all enjoy ! ^•ﻌ•^ฅ♡ If any new readers are here you can read where the men turn into cats here; When They Turn Into Cats any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

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Xavier /ᐠ˵- ᴗ -˵マ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 :

Xavier wasn't particularly shocked that you would turn into a cat but truly surprised him was the timing of it. You both speculated that his transformation one time might be linked to his recent handling of a Protocore and it would eventually spread to you. He just didn't anticipate that this would happen in the middle of a mission. Fortunately, he managed to defeat the remaining Wanderers, scooping you up along with your clothes, and bring you both safely back home.

There were no answers on the internet on what to do when your partner turns into a cat. He doesn't understand how you did so well when you took care of him when he randomly turned into one. He only wishes that he can do the same for you as you did with him.

The first step Xavier does is search for any leftover cat food but finds nothing so he takes you along to the grocery store. He'll gently place you in the baby seat of the shopping cat, determined to find the best options for you. He scrutinizes every brand of cat food and snack, carefully considering what you might like. To ensure you would have everything you could possibly need, he ends up buying far more than necessary, his cart basically overflowing with a mountain of cat supplies.

When you both return home, there is no doubt that Xavier showers you with affection. He lavishes you with cuddles and kisses in between your ears. He finds your feline form to be cute and can't help but pet you, his fingers gently brushing through your soft fur. You enjoy in the soothing touch, arching your back in contentment as he continues his gentle caress. The two of you settle into a cozy spot for nap, as he drifts off to sleep to the comforting rhythm of your adorable purrs and you fall asleep to his gentle caress. You've always been a source of comfort for him and you still are even in this tiny cat form.

Xavier can't help but feel a little jealous when he finds you curled up on the plushies that he won you in the claw machine, instead of you nestled comfortably on his lap or cradled in his arms. It stings a little to see you so content with the plushie and wishes that it was him to provide you with that comfort. Same thing when you knead your plushies with your paws, he can't help but feel envy, wishing that direct attention was towards him instead.

To keep you entertained as a cat, Xavier downloads a few interactive cat games on his phone. He places the phone down, allowing you to paw at the moving images and you pretend as if you were catching them. Another way he can play with you is using playful revenge on your plushies. He watches with amusement as you pounce and swat at the plush toys, your antics providing both of you with entertainment.

Whenever Xavier grabs a snack, he makes sure you feel included in the moment. He helps you to select a treat you want to try by holding it out and shares it with you, making sure you have your own little snack to enjoy alongside with him.

When it was night time and time for bed, even though both of you took several naps the entire day, he prepares for bed. He settles beside you, gently reaching out to stroke your fur with a soothing touch. Carefully, he pulls the blanket up, tucking it around the both of you to create a comfy cocoon. As he holds you clos, he presses tender kisses to the top of your head. "Goodnight honey. No matter what form you're in, you'll always be my partner for life." He whispers, eagerly waiting for the morning to come so you'll be back in your human form.

Zayne /ᐠ - ˕ -マ :

It was Zayne’s day off and he was in the kitchen, preparing a delicious and nutritious meal for the two of you. Meanwhile, you were in the living room, browsing through DVDs or anything you can find on the TV to watch for your movie marathon. You both chatted back and forth while he worked in the kitchen as you continued to browse in the living room until minutes ticked by and he noticed you were quiet. Out of curiosity, he peeks through the kitchen and sees the living room empty. He calls out for you but he is met with no response. A wave of concern washes over him as he quickly turns off the stove and makes his way to the living room to find a bewildered cat.

He sighs deeply, knowing this all too well. He had experienced this bizarre transformation himself not too long ago. A smile creeps up on his lips as he crouches down, extending a hand to your feline form. “I guess I have to make a different lunch for you now.” He murmurs as you brush against his hand.

He’ll find the cat food that you fed him when he once turned into a cat randomly one day and he’ll feed that to you. He knows that the mixed kibble was unappetizing but as he scooped up a portion and placed it in front of you, he gave you a reassuring soft smile. He gently pats your head, his fingers brushing through your fur to offer some reassurance as you hesitantly ate the food. As you eat, he promises that he’ll buy you some yummy foods when you’re back to normal.

Since it was his day off, he'll finish up any chores around the house. He gathered all the freshly laundered clothes out of the dryer as you trailed after him. When he sets the basket down in your shared room, you couldn't resist the inviting warmth of the freshly dried clothes and hopped right into the basket. You nestled inside the fluffy pile, your body curling up into it. The warmth and softness was irresistible and not too long you find yourself drifting off into sleep. His gaze would soften when he finally notices you inside of the basket, smiling fondly at the sight. He scoops you up, cradling you carefully before placing you gently on your shared bed.

Once he finished folding the clothes, he returned to you. Your eyes slowly flutters open and to help ease you into waking up, he carefully extends your limbs, stretching your front paws upwards.

Zayne would make sure to play with you so you're not bored the entire day. Sometimes when he has do some other chores, he'll leave the TV on so you can go watch. Or he'll gather a selection of plushies you both had won from the claw machine and toss them around as you pounce and batted at the plushies. If you weren't feeling the plushies anymore, he'll reach for the laser pointer he uses for panel discussions and watches in amusement as you chase it around.

Although it was his day off, he still chooses to do a couple hospital reports. While he's busy typing away on the computer, he lets you curl into his lap as he finishes up his work. Despite his best efforts to stay concentrated, you made it a habit of hopping in front of his computer, inserting yourself in front of him to grab his attention. It seems your stubbornness remains even if you were a cat because this goes on for a couple of minutes. "Behave." He would gently scoop you back into his lap or nudge you aside and you would end up back in front of his computer, blocking his hands from typing on his keyboard. It was impossible to ignore you, melting at the small feline form in front of him. Folding, his hands instinctively find their way to scratch the back of your ears. He would take this as a sign to finally take a break and enjoy his day off with you, even if you were a cat.

As nightfall arrived, you trailed after him into the bathroom where he began his nightly routines. You were perched on the counter, watching him do your skin care routine that you both normally do. He made sure you felt included, using a small brush and gently groomed your fur.

He scoops you up after he finishes his routine and carried you to the bedroom. He places a gentle kiss between your ears, right on the top of your head. He placed you gently onto the bed, arranging the covers and settles beside you. "Even though you're adorable as a cat," he murmurs softly, "I miss you. Come back soon, my love." He whispers, eagerly waiting for morning to come when you return back to your human form.

Rafayel ฅᨐฅ :

A wave of emotions washed over him. Fear. Panic. Uneasiness. His lover has turned into something he had feared the most. A wanderer? No. Worse. A cat. What gods has he upset for this too happen? Why must he go through so much feline presence in his life? For him to be one and now you?

Rafayel would snap out of his daze as you began to nuzzle against his legs. Slowly, he'd start to come to terms with the idea of having you as a cat for a day might not be as daunting as he initially feared. Nuzzling against his legs gave him a reassuring contact of your soft fur and helped him realize that you wouldn't do anything to harm him. You were still his caring and beloved partner and he will continue to love you even if you were a cat. It wouldn't be so bad or so he thought.

In this cat form it seems you have the zoomies. He expected you to be a laid back cat but instead, you had turned his entire day into a constant adventure. Not only are you darting around the house with enthusiasm but you're also sneaking into every nook and cranny. You've slipped in behind shelves, climbing into fragile small statues around his studio, and even perching on the edges of delicates vases.

Rafayel would constantly be on the move, trying to keep up with your mischief. One time you had darted into the kitchen cabinets, where all his expensive glassware was located. You refused to come down despite his pleas and he wonders if you were just being stubborn or if you were just having too much fun teasing him. When he manages to catch you, he wraps you into a blanket, like a burrito to keep you still. He smirks as you meow in protest and he returns to his painting, chatting with you softly as he works.

When you're finally out of your zoomies, he'll let you go from the blanket but he'll only regret that later. You approach him, holding out a fish plushie and he thought you were hungry but truly you just wanted to play. "Hey fish aren't food!" He huffs, a pout forming on his lips as he gently removes the plushie from your mouth and crosses his arms in mock disapproval. "I want my cutie back....this cat is slowly turning her into a monster....."

He'll take this as a sign to go find you some food. Food that isn't fish related. He'll make sure to find something that's good and the best rated cat food for you.

Whenever there a fly or bug that made its way into his studio, Rafayel would make you help to catching it. In your human form, you'd be squeamish about dealing with insects and would leave the tasks to him. But now since you're a cat, you're fascinated by the challenge of catching it. He would gently lift you into the air, holding you up so high so you could get a better shot at the tiny intruders. He'll give you a mix of encouragement and amusements as you grab the bugs with your paws.

You are Rafayel's muse and he's determined to keep you in that role. He'll position you on a stool where you stand tall, ready to be the subject of his art. You meow in protest, growing fatigued but he urges you to stay still just for a little longer. The finished sketches of you s a cat turned out to be truly adorable once you see them later. You don't know how he's so uneasy around cats.

As nightfall came around, he settles beside you in bed. Typically you would be curled up together, foreheads against each other but tonight is different with your smaller, feline form. He stays close, tenderly brushing your fur as if it were your hair. His eyes were growing heavy with sleep and he whisper softly, "No matter if you're a cat, a goose, or anything else, my heart's deepest wish is to be with you in every form in every life time. Sleep well my beloved. I shall see you again in the morning."

Sylus ≽^-˕-^≼ :

Sylus would be informed by Mephisto that you turned into a cat. He was initially be taken aback but quickly settled into a knowing smile, knowing this experience of a similar transformation himself. He would immediately find you and when he does, he tries his best not to snicker from how amusing this was but it came out anyway. It seems you have taken the nickname Kitten, a little to seriously. You would protest in meows and his snicker would turn into a louder laugh and your cat ears turn into airplane mode.

He reaches for his phone and scoops you up to settle you into his lap. He adjusts the screen so it was perfectly angled for you to also see as his other free hand gently stroked your fur. He scrolled through various stores, adding items to his cart with things you might enjoy or need in this temporary form. He'll know you were interested in it when you paw at the screen, lowly chuckling in amusement as you do so. Not wanting to leave your side, he orders Luke and Kieran to pick up what he ordered.

You didn’t think it would be even possible for this man to be more affectionate with you even if you were a cat. He would pepper your head and nose with lots of kisses and he would find it even more amusing when you would place your paw on his mouth to stop. He doesn’t listen and continues to do so anyway, finding this cat form of you to be adorable. He also loves to brush his fingertips against your paw/ toe beans. He’s careful to not apply too much pressure on them so he doesn’t hurt you.

Mephisto may not be your biggest fan ever in your human form, but he's definitely not warming up to you as a cat either. In this cat form of yours, you have an enhanced agility that helps you jump and try to catch him on his perch. Your attempts to chase him around the house seem to get intense that Sylus had to step in and separate you two so you both can behave.

In this cat form, it seems as your cat senses heightened, driving you to explore the house in new ways you haven’t before. You find yourself climbing onto high shelves and underestimating just how high up you were up. Sylus noticing your predicament, he would sigh and grab a basket to help you climb down. However, your fear of falling to your demise, you meow in protest as you tremble at the idea.

You tried to place a paw into the basket, in hopes to provide a safe descent but looking down and how light the basket was, made you freeze in place. You backed away and retreated further into the shelf. “It’s okay. I got you,” He would reassure you, his voice calm and soothing. Despite his efforts of holding the basket out for you to jump into, you continued to meow in protest, clearing preferring the direct approach of being lifted down by his hands instead. He finally caught on when you ignored his third attempt with the basket and instead reached out with his hands as you crawled towards his forearms. Once you are finally safe in his arms, he strokes your fur with tender care. He lets out a soft sigh, “You really don’t want to make it easy for me don’t you kitten?” He murmurs, "meow."

When it was dinner time, you'd perch on the kitchen counter beside Sylus, watching with curious eyes as he hummed contentedly while preparing his meal before preparing your cat meal. He carefully selects the best rated cat food, ensuring it was packed with essential nutrients and vitamins. After serving you with the cat food, he would spoil you with a few tasty cat treats, hoping they would be a little more enjoyable for you than the cat food. His attention to your needs will always be attentive even if you were a cat.

After you both settled into bed, Sylus lies on his back, inviting you to curl up on his chest. As your eyes fluttered close, a content purr rumbles through your body and he can feel the gentle vibrations against him. He strokes your fur tenderly, his own eyes heavy with sleep. He murmurs as he wishes you a goodnight, "Goodnight princess. I hope to see you in my dreams and see you back in my arm again when I wake up."