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#it really makes your jaw drop sometimes
hanzajesthanza · 1 year
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the short stories are actually really provocative and profound, heartrending and disturbing and thought-provoking and funny all at the same time and in such a short amount of space.
but i feel like when n*tflix touched them, they were the first victim of a withering away and soul sapping for me, in which i couldn't bear to be around the kinds of discussions and jokes and everything which were coming up at that time as fundamental misunderstandings of them so it just became very painful and very banal because they were all, in essence, forgotten.
however, that damage is not irreversable.
particularly in the case of a good adaptation, the musical, i have begun to remember all of why i love the short stories so much, just how good and painful to my heart they are, as well as thinking more deeply about some aspects which i had not previously considered or paid a lot of attention to (in lieu of other things which excited me more).
i think the biggest strength of a "good" adaptation and a "good" fandom is that they make you realize things you hadn't, interested in parts that weren't your 'favorite,' and generally expanding your mind and love of the source material. in contrast, a "bad" adaptation or "bad" fandom is that which makes you wish to forget and eventually end up forgetting your love and leaving it behind yourself. "good" is to remember, "bad" is to forget.
#txt#the witcher books#the witcher musical#what i mean here is that sometimes there are things you KNOW but you don't think deeply about and you don't consider the ramifications of#for instance i knew that the waters of brokilon erased your memories to make you a dryad but did i care all that much? not really#because i was so focused on geralt and ciri's relationship that the waters were just something i didn't want to happen to ciri#but hearing braenn's song from the musical made my jaw drop with emotion and horror realizing how impactful that experience would be#similarly ciri's song about the nature in brokilon made me realize that her wonder at all of these beauties is something so rare and#impossible in every single other part of the world because brokilon is The Last Place.#literally no other child - no other HUMAN - will ever see these sights she saw. and she's singing to geralt that she wishes he could see it#but really she is singing to all humans of the continent and therefore the entire audience#because also ciri is such a character as that she is innocent and believes in goodness and justice at this point#such as when she says that calanthe says elves and dryads are good and when she asks yennefer about drawing too much Power#so she's singing: i wish the world could be beautiful and i wish humans were not so cruel (the message of the song not her intention)#i won't even mention what waters of brokilon (song) brings to the table in terms of character understanding rn bc i'm procrastinating#ALSO THE STORY OF THE CAT AND THE FOX....... JAZZY TUNE.... GERALT DAD MOMENTS.... CIRI DANCING.... OK#twn critical#um and considering i just named three sword of destiny songs. the n*tflix series did NOT EVEN HAVE SWORD OF DESTINY.
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gojorgeous · 2 months
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"creature of myth."
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pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)
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You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 
You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 
You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 
Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 
Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 
You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 
The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 
The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 
When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 
Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 
You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 
The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 
Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 
“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 
You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 
You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 
Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”
You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 
“Yes, my lady?” 
You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?
You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 
There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”
Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 
You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 
You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 
You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 
You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 
You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 
You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 
You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 
You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 
You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 
You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 
“Do you like them?” 
You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 
He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 
Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 
He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 
“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 
Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 
There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 
“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 
You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 
“Of course… Satoru.” 
He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 
“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 
“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 
There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 
“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 
You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?
“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 
He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 
You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?
Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.
Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 
His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 
“Not tonight.” 
His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 
His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 
“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 
You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 
~  
You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 
That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 
When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 
“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 
You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”
A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 
“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 
You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 
You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 
That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 
There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.
~
If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 
Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 
The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 
You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 
He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 
“It was… good.”
You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 
You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 
That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 
A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 
Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 
You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 
You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.
It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 
“You’re not… eating?”
That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 
Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 
You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 
The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 
By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 
“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 
“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 
You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 
He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 
You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”
His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 
You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 
He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 
When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 
He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 
You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 
His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 
“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 
~
You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 
Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 
As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.
~
The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 
The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.
~
You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 
You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.
Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 
Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 
You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 
It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 
You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 
“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 
You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 
“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.
A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 
“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 
Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 
“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”
You skip ahead again.
“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”
Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 
“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 
No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 
“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 
You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 
“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 
No, no, no. 
“(See next page for only existing portrait)”
Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 
You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 
Knock! Knock! Knock!
You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 
You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 
“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 
You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 
Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 
“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 
His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 
No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 
“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 
“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 
You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”
You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?
“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 
You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 
“About the estate?” he asks. 
You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”
His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 
You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”
“Anything interesting?” he presses.
This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 
He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”
You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.
“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 
You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.
His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.
“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 
“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 
You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 
He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 
You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.
He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 
Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 
“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 
He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 
“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 
“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 
“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 
You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.
He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 
Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 
“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.
“Mhm?” 
You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 
He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 
He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 
“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 
“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 
The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.
His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 
You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 
He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 
Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 
You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 
You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 
You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 
“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 
“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 
He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 
His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 
You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 
“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 
His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 
“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 
thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 
Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 
“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 
Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 
“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 
His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 
You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 
His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 
You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 
His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 
“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 
You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 
He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 
Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 
Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 
Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”
You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 
There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 
By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 
His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 
You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 
Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 
“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 
Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 
When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?
“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 
Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 
You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 
“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 
“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 
Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 
There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 
Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 
“S-Satoru–”
“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 
You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 
You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…
He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”
It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 
“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 
Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.
“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 
“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 
He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 
“Yes,” you whisper. 
His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 
He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 
“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 
He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 
Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 
His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 
When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 
His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 
He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”
You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 
He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 
“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.
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sttoru · 5 days
Text
·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you leave megumi with your husband so you can make them breakfast. you quickly realise that that might have backfired.
wc. around 1.3k
tags. dad!toji x wife!female reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘mama’ by both toji & megumi. half beta read.
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“ow, careful there, brat.”
your husband’s deep voice echoes from within the bathroom. you’ve left megumi in his care this morning so you’d be able to make breakfast in peace. toji was all grumpy about it, since he had to wake up early when he had no work, but eventually agreed to your proposal.
you hum your favorite song while frying eggs. the sizzling in the pan did help avert your attention from toji’s grunts of annoyance somewhere in the distance, though only for a couple seconds. your hear your child’s laughter slip between the noises of aggravation. it piques your interest.
“one more time and i’m putting y’r ass in time out,” toji’s deep voice sounds muffled. he sounds rather serious about whatever is bothering him.
you turn the stove off and walk towards the hallway, standing at the doorframe as you look in the direction of the bathroom. you tilt your head and try your best to pick up on snippets of the conversation between your husband and son.
the sound of bottles dropping on the floor is the first thing that allows you to guess that megumi’s acting up. you know how mischievous your little toddler can get, especially at his age. toji isn’t one to gentle parent his kid—he tries to, of course, but sometimes he can’t help but be a bit rough.
“megumi fushiguro.”
you raise your eyebrows as toji uses your child’s full name. he rarely does, only when he’s really upset or about to lose his marbles. you decide to see what was going on for yourself. you walk towards the bathroom, cleaning your hands against the material of your apron. you knock once before pushing the door open.
you stick your head through the little gap, ready to identify the cause of the commotion. the first thing you notice is the chaos on the floor; bottles, tubes, toothbrushes, and all other kinds of products lay cluttered on the bathroom tiles.
your eyes then land on your husband’s broad and scarred back, “hey, honey. did something hap—”
your voice trails off once toji turns around, revealing the jaw dropping scene. nearly his entire face is covered in loads of shaving cream and even his black hair hasn’t escaped the soft foam.
the bathroom counter is completely wet, and the water runs down the edges in small drops. the culprit of this entire scene is sitting right on that same counter, clapping his dirty hands together that were smeared with toji’s shaving cream.
you blink and walk towards the two. you can’t possibly be mad at the sight, finding toji’s situation more funny than worrisome. You try to act serious and clear your throat, “uh, yeah. so what’s happened here?”
your husband rolls his eyes and nods his head at the little boy in front of him, who’s giggling and kicking his legs. toji tries to wipe the shaving cream from his nose, attempting to get it out of his hair as well, “i tried to be a good dad and include him in my morning routine, that’s what.”
the man clicks his tongue as he now realises how dumb of a mistake that was, “gave him the opportunity to put some shaving foam on my jaw ‘n the brat totally blew it. started attackin’ me with the stuff.”
toji grumbles. he wipes away the foam that got on the mirror afterwards. it’s nearly gotten everywhere. he lightly nudges megumi’s forehead with a scoff, “never again, y’hear? the little shit can’t sit still for even one second.”
that explains the stuff on the floor. you know that megumi could grow bored easily if he isn’t the centre of attention. he’d start doing anything to be the focus of his parents. toji probably didn’t pay him much mind, wanting to get his morning routine over with.
“language, honey.” you sigh and look down at megumi who’s still reaching his messy hands up to his dad.
toji huffs and leans back, not giving the little boy a chance to put more shaving cream on his face. he’s learnt his lesson; kids do not understand it when you tell them to ‘only put a little bit’.
megumi whines and threatens to throw a tantrum. you notice that immediately and try to keep his mind off things by picking him up. you turn on the faucet and try to wash his little hands, “c’mon. give mama your hands.”
the little boy shakes his head furiously, squirming in your embrace in attempt to get away. you sigh and grab his little wrists gently. you lower him to the sink, trying your best to wash away the shaving cream as the first step of solving this grande mess.
“no, mama!” megumi is stubborn as he voices his complains. toji watches from a distance whilst he struggles to clean the overload of shaving cream from his face.
you make the mistake of letting go of your child’s wrists to grab a washcloth. megumi takes his chance and pats his messy hands against your face, leaving you no space to process what he’s doing.
your mind takes a second before you realise what’s happening, “hey! quit it, ‘gumi.”
you try to grab ahold of megumi’s tiny hands again, but they move too fast for you. plus, he’s pretty skilled at avoiding yours. you can feel the foam slowly cover your entire face; from your jaw and cheeks, to your nose and forehead.
it was inevitable at this point.
“toji, do something,” you grunt and struggle to contain the energetic toddler in your arms. you take a peek at your husband and find him grinning at the predicament you’ve gotten yourself in.
toji simply shrugs and enjoys the fact that you’re experiencing exactly what he had experienced just moments ago. seeing you struggle to contain your disobedient child only proves that his parenting skills are not the problem in this situation, your toddler is.
“ye did that to y’rself, mama.” toji hums in amusement. he leans against the wall, the blue towel now loosely hanging off head after he’s given up on getting the foam out of his hair, “now y’know what i’m talkin’ about. he’s a lil’ monster.”
megumi squeals in victory after he’s gotten both his parents covered in shaving cream. you want to say something to your child, but you’re at a loss for words. even now, you cannot bring yourself to be mad at him. he’s just a kid who’s having fun with his parents.
“i made mama pretty! hehe.” megumi grins and encourages you to look in the mirror. he points at your reflection and awaits the words of confirmation. his blue eyes look up at you, nearly sparkling with joy, admiring how pretty he’s made you look with that white foam all over your face.
toji joins in on the fun. he comes to stand behind you, looking at you through the mirror. he snickers, already forgotten about his irritations that occurred in the first place. he nods in approval at megumi’s words, “gotta agree, son. y’r mama looks much prettier like this.”
your husband’s teasing comment adds fuel to the fire. though again, you cannot bring yourself to be upset at the situation.
you look at the reflection in the dirty mirror. you all may appear disheveled due to the foamy mess on your bodies—and yet even at that moment—the only thing you actually manage to see is a happy family of three.
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waitimcomingtoo · 4 months
Text
Jealousy, Jealousy
Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader
Synopsis: Peeta helps Johanna unzip her dress in the elevator and it makes you jealous
Masterlist
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“Can I have a hand?” Johanna asked as she turned her back to Peeta. Peeta looked at you and Haymitch for a split second before shrugging and taking ahold of her zipper.
“Oh. Sure.” He said as he pulled the zipper down her back. Your head slowly turned to Peter and you stared at him with a slack jaw. Peeta looked at you and his smile immediately dropped. He adverted his eyes as long as he could until they found their way back to the scene in front of him. Johanna was looking between you and Peeta with a smirk when she turned around to pull her sleeves off her arms. Peeta and Haymitch couldn’t help but watch her as she undressed and dropped her clothes onto the elevator floor. It appeared that you were the only one able to keep your eyes on the ceiling as Johanna stripped out of her last piece of clothing.
“Thanks. Let’s do it again sometime.” She said as the elevator doors opened. She walked into the hallway fully naked and left a silence when she left. Peeta and Haymitch chuckled and exchanged looks as the elevator went up another door. Peeta then made eye contact with you and gulped when he saw the daggers in your eyes. You could not believe he had just looked at her the way he did. Seeing him unzip her dress and watch her made your blood boil in your skin in a way it never had before. You were so consumed with your jealousy that you didn’t hear Peeta try to change the subject and only knew she spoke when you saw his lips move.
“What?” You asked him.
“I asked what outfit you liked the best.” Peeta repeated. “I thought District 5’s was kinda cool. But it didn’t look very comfortable.”
“I don’t know. And I don’t care. I wasn’t looking at the other tributes.” You said and eyed him up and down as the elevator doors opened on your floor.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peeta’s face scrunched in confusion as he followed you out of the elevator.
“Nothing. I’m going to sleep.” You announced and headed straight for your room.
“You’re sleeping already? Aren’t you gonna eat?” Peeta asked with concern.
“I’m not hungry.” You said without looking back.
“I can meet you on the roof in a little bit if you want to hang out.” He offered.
“Not tonight.” You replied and disappeared into your bedroom. Peeta frowned and felt disappointment sink in over not getting the night with you that he thought he’d be getting.
“Uh oh.” Haymitch chuckled as he poured himself a drink.
“What was that?” Peeta asked and gestured to where you had just been.
“That, my friend, was you getting in trouble with your lady.”
“What?” Peeta blushed at what Haymitch called you. “She’s not even my lady.”
“But she wants to be.” Haymitch said pointedly and took a long sip.
“Y/n? There’s no way. She knows I like her and she made it very clear that she just wants to be friends.” Peeta insisted.
“Peeta, I don’t really know how they do things in 12 nowadays, so let me spell things out for you. That girl wants you but she’s way too stubborn to admit it to you or even herself. She doesn’t want to tell you how she feels because she wants you to just know. And she definitely didn’t want to see you undressing another girl right in front of her.”
“I wasn’t undressing her. I just helped her unzip her…” Peeta trailed off when he saw Haymitch raise his eyebrows in amusement. He realized how bad the moment in the elevator must’ve looked to you and began to panic.
“Oh no.” Peeta gulped. “Is she really mad at me?”
“Definitely.”
“What do I do?” He whined.
“Talk to her. And prepare to get hit a couple times.” Haymitch chuckled and patted Peeta’s shoulder as he passed him. Peeta thought about it for a moment and then went up to your room to do what Haymitch said and talk to you. He knocked on your door and you opened it pretty quickly as if you were expecting him. You had ditched your parade outfit and were now in some silky yellow pajamas.
“Hey.” Peeta smiled at you.
“What do you want?” You replied, making his smile drop.
“Just to talk. And I wanted to see you.”
“I’m really tired. I’m not in the mood to talk tonight.”
“Oh, okay. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want. I’m tired too. We can just sleep.” Peeta offered. You usually slept in the same bed to keep the nightmares away but there was no way you were letting him in your bed after what happened in the elevator.
“I’m gonna sleep alone tonight.” You told him with a tight smile.
“Oh. Okay.” Peeta said again and felt his disappointment settle in a pit in his stomach. Your cold expression suddenly melted to one of insecurity and you looked down the hallway as if you were expecting someone else to be there.
“Are you?” You asked quietly.
“Huh? Who else would I be sleeping with?” Peeta genuinely wondered, not realizing you were asking about Johanna.
“I don’t know.” You said quickly. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight. See you-“ Peeta was cut off by you closing the door in his face. He sighed and put his hand on your door before walking away.
“Tomorrow.” He mumbled.
When tomorrow came, he woke up in his lonely bed and went straight to your room. Your door was open and you weren’t inside so he assumed you already went downstairs. You weren’t there when he got to the table and let out another sigh. You were clearly avoiding him and he was not handling it very well. Peeta decided not to let it get to him and busied himself by making you a plate of all your favorite breakfast food. Haymitch watched Peeta scrambling to get back in your good graces and laughed to himself. You came down just as Peeta was finishing your plate and eyed him curiously.
“Good morning.” He greeted with you a smile.
“Morning.” You replied without looking at him.
“I made you a plate.” He said and put the plate in front of you. You stared at the plate for a minute and almost gave it and apologized for your cold behavior until you remembered the way he looked at Johanna last night. That was enough to make you lose your appetite so you pushed the plate away.
“I’m not really hungry.”
“You’re not? But you didn’t eat last night.” Peeta said worriedly as he sat beside you.
“Yes she did. For a hunter, you’re not very quiet. I could hear you rummaging for food all the way from my room.” Haymitch said to you.
“You came down to eat?” Peeta asked. “You should’ve gotten me. I would’ve kept you company.”
“Maybe I didn’t want your company.” You shrugged, making Peeta frown.
“Oh. Ice cold, sweetheart.” Haymitch chuckled. “You better watch your back in the games, Peeta. This one has death in her eyes.”
“You’re still mad at me?” Peeta whispered to you.
“Who said I’m mad at you?” You said without looking at him.
“I know you are. We usually talk on the rooftop and then sleep in the same bed. And then come down to eat breakfast together. You didn’t let me do any of those things.”
“Maybe I just need some space. We spend every hour together every single day. Excuse me for wanting some privacy for a little while.”
“We should be spending every hour together before we don’t get the chance. How long are you gonna be mad at me?”
“I already told you, I’m not mad.” You whispered harshly.
“Fine. You’re not mad. But when can we be friends again?” Peeta asked and tugged on your sleeve.
“Peeta.” You said warningly and pushed his hand away.
“Come on. I miss you.” He whined and tugged on your sleeve.
“I’m right here.” You scoffed but started to feel guilty for your behavior.
“No you’re not.” He pouted. “You’re far away.”
“Stop whining so much. You sound like my cat. And I hate that cat.”
“So you hate me now? All because I un-“
“Don’t.” You cut him off and got up from the table. You passed Effie in the hallway as you went back to your room.
“What’s going on? Y/n just told me she wants to train alone today.” Effie said as he joined the boys at the table.
“She’s mad at loverboy.” Haymitch said and pointed to Peeta.
“What did you do?” Effie asked him.
“Nothing. I didn’t do anything.”
“He unzipped Johanna Masons dress in the elevator.” Haymitch tattled.
“What? Are you insane?” Effie gasped. “You can’t do something like that in front of your lady.”
“Why does everyone keep calling her my lady?” Peeta asked. “She doesn’t even like me.”
“Of course she likes you. That’s why she’s so upset. She’s jealous.” Effie laughed like it was obvious.
“Jealous? Of me and Johanna? I don’t think I even said a word to her. I just pulled the zipper.”
“It’s not about Johanna, silly. It’s about you giving attention to another girl. That’s why she’s jealous. She wants to be the one you’re unzipping.” Effie explained, making Peeta choke on the water he had just sipped. He wiped his mouth once he stopped choking and sighed.
“I need to fix this.”
“Yeah. You do. Before she makes you her first target.” Haymitch told him.
“She wouldn’t do that. Oh my God. Wait. Would she?” Peeta worried.
“She might.” Effie shrugged and Haymitch nodded in agreement.
“Well what do I do? She won’t talk to me.”
“So don’t give her a choice. Go in there and show her that she’s your only lady.” Haymitch instructed.
“What if she tells me to go away?” Peeta asked.
“Stay.” Effie answered. Peeta nodded his head and got out of his seat to go talk to you. He knocked on your door but this time, you didn’t answer. Peeta took a deep breath before opening the door and going in. You were on your bed with your knees drawn up to your chest. You gasped when he came in and threw a pillow at his head.
“What are you doing in here? Get out.”
“No. We’re talking.” Peeta said and sat on the edge of your bed.
“Well I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Too bad. Because I want to talk to you. Please? I can’t take it that you’re mad at me. I don’t want to go in the arena without hearing your voice. Can’t we just talk?” Peeta begged.
“Fine. What do you want to say?” You asked him.
“That you’re a big baby.” Peeta replied.
“Excuse me?” Your eyes widened when you didn’t get the apology you were expecting.
“You are.” He insisted. “You don’t get to be mad at me for unzipping Johanna’s dress when I didn’t even know what was happening.”
“What?” You laughed nervously. “I’m not mad at you for unzipping her dress. Why would I care about that?”
“I don’t know why you care. But I know that you’re jealous.”
“Jealous? Oh, please.” You scoffed and got off the bed to get away from Peeta.
“It’s okay to admit it.” Peeta said calmly. “I admit that I was jealous when I saw you talking to Finnick. And his giant muscles that are always out.”
“They are, aren’t they?” You smiled coyly.
“Hey.” Peeta said defensively.
“You’re the one who’s jealous. Not me.” You said and pointed to him.
“Then how come you’ve been mad at me ever since I unzipped her dress?” Peeta asked and walked over to you.
“It’s not about the dress!” You exclaimed.
“Then what is this about?” He asked. You scoffed again and folded your arms to close yourself off. Peeta wasn’t about to give up that easy and put his hands on your shoulders.
“Please tell me. I miss my friend.” He said quietly. You sighed and looked into his big sad eyes.
“I don’t care that you unzipped her dress.” You admitted. “You were just doing what she asked. I care that you were looking at her when she took her clothes off.”
“In my defense, I’ve never seen boobs before.” Peeta stated, making you laugh for second.
“Me either.”
“Not…not your own?” Peeta whispered in disbelief.
“Yes my own. Never another girls.” You explained and smacked his arm.
“Oh. I was gonna say. I know we don’t have a lot of mirrors in 12 but I think they’d be kinda hard to avoid- “
“I don’t want you looking at Johanna, okay?” You cut him off. “Or any other girls. I hated it. It made my blood feel hot and my stomach dropped to the floor. And then I couldn’t sleep because I kept replaying it in my head. What is that?”
“Thats jealousy.” Peeta explained with a pleased smile now that he knew Effie was right.
“Oh. Well I don’t want to feel it ever again. I didn’t like it.”
“Well I didn’t like when you didn’t talk to me.” Peeta said quietly.
“I’m sorry. I feel like my life is completely out of my hands lately. But you and I are the one thing I have a say in. So when it felt like our relationship was threatened, I tried to gain control by shutting you out.”
“It’s okay. I probably would’ve curled into a ball and cried right in front of you if I saw you unzip some guys pants.” He admitted, making you laugh again. You chuckled and pulled him into a hug to apologize for being so cold towards him. When you pulled out of the hug, you kept your arms around his neck and looked into his eyes.
“So seeing me with Finnick really made you jealous?” You asked with a smirk.
“Yeah. I was questioning our alliance the second I heard him make you laugh.” Peeta replied, making you laugh.
“Yeah. I know the feeling.”
“Why do you think we got so jealous seeing each other around other people?” Peeta wondered. You looked down at the floor and sighed.
“I think maybe we underestimated our feelings for each other.” You admitted.
“We?” Peeta raised an eyebrow.
“Fine. I underestimated my feelings. When I saw you looking at another girl, I realized the only one I want you looking at is me.”
“As if theres anything in this world that could make me take my eyes off you.” Peeta said softly.
“Except for Johanna’s boobs.” You mumbled under your breath.
“You’re the only one I’m looking at right now.” He assured you. You smiled for a second, then frowned.
“But you’re not thinking about them, right?” You asked him.
“I’m about to if you don’t stop bringing them up.” He said out of the corner of his mouth.
“Maybe I can take your mind off it?” You asked with a shrug.
“How?” Peeta barely got the word out before you were kissing him. He wrapped his arms around you to deepen the kiss as your hands found their way to his hair. There were no cameras and no witnesses because it was just yours.
“So we’re friends again?” Peeta asked once you pulled away.
“I don’t know. I don’t get jealous like over just my friends.” You said coyly. Peeta picked up on what you were saying and felt his face heat up. He pressed his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes.
“Good.” He said. “Because I never wanted to be just friends with you.”
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thefreakandthehair · 3 months
Text
smooth operator
written for ‘hole’ | wc: 404 | rated: m | cw: n/a @steddiemicrofic
Crowd-work is Eddie Munson’s favorite part of stand-up. It’s actually become a niche of sorts, and tonight is no different.
“Something I’ve noticed in my time fucking men,” Eddie leads with, strolling across the makeshift stage, “is that you can tell how hot a guy is by how he takes off his shirt.”
The audience chuckles collectively.
“Don’t look at me like that, you know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about. We’ve all seen movies. You, in the navy blue,” Eddie gestures with his chin at a man sitting at a hightop with two girls. “You’re a good-lookin’ guy. Let’s see if you’re hot. Show us how you take your shirt off.”
Without hesitating, Blue Shirt stands up and in one swift motion, grabs the back of his shirt with one hand and tugs it off over what Eddie tries not to think is perfectly soft, perfectly messy copper locks. Turns out, it’s easy to not think about his hair, because every rational and coherent thought he’s ever had about anything comes to a screeching halt.
It kills his set because that’s not the Hot Guy Method he’s been referring to but there’s not a chance in cold, dark Hell he can stand on stage and lie in front of this cheering, clapping audience. This guy is fucking hot.
“Oh my God,” he says in the microphone as Blue Shirt shrugs and flushes, just a hint of pink crawling from the hollow of his throat to his cheeks. “That’s never worked before. That’s never worked. I did not— wow, I did not see that coming.”
The crowd continues to laugh and applaud, Blue Shirt sitting confidently on his barstool with his shirt still in hand. Motherfucker doesn’t even have the decency to put it back on so Eddie can move on.
He’s really dug himself a fucking hole with this one, huh?
“Jesus H. Christ, I meant to do the motion. And that’s— listen, that wasn’t the hot way I meant but for the first time ever, audience, I admit defeat. I don’t know what the Hell just happened, but that’s the hot way now.”
Blue Shirt raises his glass and fucking winks at him, before calling out in response. “Buy me a drink after the show and I’ll show you the hot way to take off a belt, too.” 
Eddie’s jaw falls open and Blue Shirt wiggles his eyebrows with a smirk. 
author's note: sometimes, you see a video of a stand-up comedian and drop literally everything you're doing to make it about your blorbos. this is one such time. @henderdads @steddieasitgoes it’s here!
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flowershines · 2 months
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I’m just better
Summary: Your boyfriend loves to show you off to his friends and shows them how lucky he got, even if that means fucking you in front of them
Warnings: Smut, deepthroat, caught, fucking in front of others, boner, blowjob, teasing, jealous Heeseung (lmk if i missed any)
Not proof read
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Spending all of your time with your boyfriend meant that you basically lived in the dorms with him and his roommates. You felt comfortable hanging out with all of them because they treat you like you are their roommate too, so when you weren’t hanging out with your boyfriend you would sometimes walk out to the living room and hang out with whoever was in there. Heeseung would sometimes question why you are so close with them as he tells himself to not think much of it and should just be glad that you are getting along with his friends but when they get really touchy, he gets protective over you and would talk to them saying how they need to keep their hands off of you.
Walking into the living room most of their heads turned to you, looking around you see most of the seats were already taken so you decided to sit on the floor in front of your boyfriend as you walked in front of him his hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you onto his knee wrapping his arm around you, putting his hand back on the controller continuing to play the game. His body started to tense up since most of the other players died and it was him versus Jake, he held his breath till he absolutely couldn't anymore which made you not only look at how fast his fingers were moving on the controller but the way his lips fell in between his teeth. You just started to admire him, he was so gorgeous and he wouldn't even pay any attention to how perfect he is.
With every minute that passed by the more boredom filled through your body, not even being entertained by your boyfriend playing his game, you shifted forward on his leg and pulled out your phone from your back pocket and opened tiktok. You did not expect the most jaw dropping, mouth salivating edit of Jay, you finished the edit and placed your phone back in your pocket hoping that nobody had seen what you just witnessed. Turning to both sided you see that you were in the clear as all of them were staring at the screen or on their phones meanwhile you couldn't even look at Jay.
Your train of thought was quickly pulled away as your boyfriend's head fell onto your shoulder. You looked at him then to the side and seeing Jake celebrating, the man behind you grumbled into your shoulder about how unfair that was. “You did good.” You told him which made him pick his head up and pull you into a kiss, the sound of gagging and ‘eww’ made him smile on your lips. He pulled away from the kiss and whined “You guys are no fun.” then pulled you back onto him so your back was resting on his chest, “It’s not our fault you do that in front of us, go get a room.” he smirked “That’s for later.” his roommates gave him a disgusted look and faked throwing up. “I’m leaving you guys are nasty.” Niki explains as he gathered his things and left the room and started to head down the hallway to his bedroom, “What did I do?” you asked quietly, making some of them look at you “It's not you we are disgusted by.” Jay said, turning to face Heeseung. “It's not my fault that I love my girlfriend, you guys are just jealous.”
After some time of watching your boyfriend’s roommates play games on the screen, you starting to hear an occasional knock on the door which brought in new people every minute, you were confused because you knew that people were coming over but they said it was only a couple of people yet everyone filled up the entire dorm. “Want a drink?” Your boyfriend asked as he had his hands on your hips motioning you to stand up, following his motions you stood up as he squeezed around you and the people around you both. “No i’m good.'' With that he walked into the kitchen as you pulled your phone out once again and went onto your favorite game and started to play it while waiting for your boyfriend to get back.
Till your gaze was pulled away as someone started to talk to you, “What’cha playing?” you looked up to see Jay sitting next to you. The question he asked had you turning your phone to show him. “Heeseung went to get drinks and I got bored.” He turned his head to the kitchen as he saw Heeseung talking to one of his friends ``Why don’t you come with me? We can go into the kitchen and get something to eat.�� You whined but he had his hand wrapped around your wrist pulling you in the slightest bit, “Come on it will be fine, plus I could hear your stomach from a mile away.” he commented as you smiled. Walking into the kitchen your boyfriend gave you a glance and a smile before he winked at you then returned his gaze to the man in front of him. “Cookie?” You shook your head “Chips?” once again followed by shaking your head “What are you hungry for?” you shrugged “Why don’t you go into the fridge and see what we got.” he said as he opened the fridge door as you walked up to it and bended forward to see what there was but not only was Jay standing right behind you but your ass rubbed up against him which caused you to shoot up and turn around.
“What are you guys doing?” You hear your boyfriend say from behind you, causing you to peek your head around to see him staring at you both with one eyebrow cocked, “I was just getting a snack and Jay was helping me pick one out.” as Jay nodded to the man. “Why did you stand up so fast?” you looked around for a second “Oh.. Well I just found the snack that I wanted.” he gave you a questioning look as you reached into the fridge and held up a bag “Carrots?” you nodded. “Yup, who doesn’t love carrots.” He gave Jay a glare and grabbed your hand as you both walked into his room, he shut the door behind him turning to you and saying “Be honest, carrots?” you looked down and wanted to be honest with your boyfriend “No, Jay was helping me pick out a snack because I didn't know what to pick out and he held the fridge door open for me so i snuck in front of him and looked to see what was in the fridge but when I bent down I was not only bent down in front of him but my ass rubbed up against him and I felt- nevermind. But Then I shot up because I was surprised and that's what happened.” You said still looking at the floor with the carrot bag still in your hand.
“Wait we aren't going to ignore that like you just didn't say anything you felt his what?” He asked sitting on his bed and pulled you closer so your standing in front of him while he sits, “When I bent down in front of him I felt his dick, it not anything really bad.” he huffed as he placed his hand on your chin making you look up at him. “Not bad, Y/n?” You didn’t say anything, “I don’t want my girl feeling another man’s dick on her.” “But Hee it wasn’t either of our faults, it was an accident.” “Accident my ass, he had to see you bent down like that in front of you.” You walked around him and sat on the bed by where his pillows were causing him to turn around while you patted the empty spot next to you which was soon filled with his body next to you.
He wasn’t mad which made you feel a lot better but you were really confused on why he kept bringing Jay up because it was about half and hour since he brought you into his room and questions about his friend was still being talked about, at this point everybody left including Niki but his roommates were still screaming at the tv as they played a video game. He grabbed you hand and suggested that you both go and join them which you couldn’t say no so you followed him into the room with his roommates as they greeted you both. Heeseung sat right next to Jay and put you on his lap but before he did he turned you around so you were facing him, that way when you sat on his lap you would be straddling him. Sitting down you rested your head on his shoulder facing his neck while still being able to see the screen, his hands snaked down to your waist as you thought nothing of it and continued to watch the screen. Until you felt his hands start to move your hips back and forth on his lap, you immediately started to try and stop his movements as there are other people in the room but he ignored you.
“Heeseung.” You whispered in his ear not wanting to aware the others of his movements, he didn’t say anything back but his breaths started to get more heavy causing Jay to almost look but thankfully he didn’t because of a loud noise on the screen. “We can go in the bedroom and do it but not out here please.” You lifted up your head which only lead to him attacking your neck with kisses, “I’m just showing them that your mine.” he said in between kisses “They already know that, let’s just go.” shaking his head in response causing Jay to look over, “Are you guys serious right now?” he asked while the other roommates look at what you both are doing. You tried your best to get Heeseung’s hands off of your hips but he wasn’t budging, “Come on man.” Jake said as he looks away from the screen “Don’t act like this is your first time seeing her like this.” you moved your head up from his shoulder and looked at him then Jake. “Huh?!” “Remember the other night, the door was accidentally open a bit and you will never guess who i saw peeping in the crack of the door while jerking his shit to you riding me.”
The room went completely silent as Jake’s cheeks flushed red , “Oh that’s not even half of it Y/n, you talk about how they are all so innocent and how they don’t like you in that way yet Sunoo jerks off to your selfies, Jungwon is constantly staring at your body mostly your ass, Sunghoon gets off to your moans when we have sex, and Jay.. you don’t even wanna know what he does.” A cricket could be heard from the room as how completely silent it went after he talked, everyone was to embarrassed to even look at you. “So to answer your question, no i’m not going to stop because they need to know that your mine even if that means fucking you in front of them.” You were completely stunned by his words all of you were, needless to say he stuck to his words and kept moving your hips on him.
Even though it felt off to be this sexual in front of his friends none of them got up and left or made any noises they stayed put as they watched you both, “See now they shut up since you know their dirty little secrets about you.” his lips started to move to your neck as he kissed you between each word he said “God your so perfect.” you started to hesitate from all of his friends eyes on you till he comforted you saying “Don’t worry, they like seeing you like this. They just wish they were the ones fucking you and not me.” Turning around to see his friends, you were right all of their eyes were fascinated on you both but something you saw gave you a confidence boost and went along with Heeseung’s actions, as you went to put your head back onto his shoulder out of the corner of your eye you see Jays hand moving up and down.
You moved your head to get a clear view as you saw how he was stroking himself over his pants while his bulge was clearly prominent, your boyfriend was right they did like seeing you like this. Heeseung’s hands started to move down onto your ass as he started the very awaited movements again but instead of just him moving you placed your hands on his shoulders and started to grind on him, “Good girl.” he said as he grunted through his teeth. The more that you grinded on your him the more sporadic his movements became, his hands would not leave your body, his veins started to show from how tight he was holding onto you, his cock would twitch with every movement you made, and his expressions would easily show just how good you made him feel.
“Why don’t you be a good girl and give them a show, suck my cock.” He wasn’t asking and you weren’t complaining, it started to make you more and more wet by just the thought of having his friends watching you both have sex while they get themselves off. Getting up from his lap and to your knees you sat in front of him as he placed one of his hands on your cheek while the other started to undo his pants while his eyes never broke contact with yours, starting to get impatient on how long he was taking you ran your fingers along the outline of his bulge that stuck out in his pants. Which resulted to him letting go of your face and holding your wrist to stop your motions, “Don’t tease me right now because I will bend you over the couch and fuck you while they watch. Do you understand me?” you nodded “Words princess.” looking up at him as his grip on your wrist loosened. “Yes.”
He didn’t say anything else as he moved his pants and boxers to his knees, picking up your hand and wrapping it around his cock slowly starting a constant movement of jerking him off then teasing his tip. His hands traveled to your hair as he pulled it up into a ponytail which was always his way of telling you that he wants you to put him in your mouth, doing so you kitten licked his tip and started to go down further onto his cock the further you went down the tighter his grip had gotten on your hair. Looking up at him you see how his head was thrown back with his adams apple poking out, your eyes traveled to the man next to him resulting in you both making imitate eye contact neither of you looked away even when you started to deep throat your boyfriend.
Not wanting to turn your head and make it obvious you were looking at his friends getting off to this, you could just tell because the silence that was in the room is now filled with breathy moans, small grunts, heavy breathing, and more small noises they let out. You hadn’t noticed before but Heeseung’s gaze was back on you as he saw you and Jay staring at one another as you sucked him off, “You getting off to this?” he asked while looking at you not being able to pick your head up you just hummed on him which caused him to moan because of the vibrations. “Fuck this, get on my lap. Need to be in you, now.”
Following his instructions and sitting on his lap you stripped yourself till you were left in your bra and underwear as you were not completely comfortable with being naked in front of all of them, Heeseung figured this out easily and didn’t say anything about taking them off and just moved your panties to the side as he slowly started to move you down on his cock but always making sure you have enough time to adjust to his size. Soft moans fell from your lips as he never failed to make your body feel good, you started to move up and down on his cock while his fingers digged into your hips filled with desperation.
The sound of someone spitting pulled your out of your trance of please causing you to turn your head to the noise as you see spit leaving Jake’s lips as it fell onto the tip of his cock sliding down his base, picking your eyes up and looking around the room you see the guys who were sitting there making occasional noises either had their dicks out and were jerking themselves off or they did it over their pants and boxers. You could cum just from the sight of all them getting off to you but you decided to just focus on you and your boyfriend’s pleasure, his hips started to rut up into you as your movements just wasn’t enough for his pleasure and he needed more of you. He brought one of his knees higher so that way he can lift you up and fuck up into you, you didn’t mind because it would give your legs a break.
Grunts and moans fell from his lips along with occasional swearing about ‘how fucking good you feel’, ‘so fucking good’, ‘fucking hell’ or even just ‘fuck’. Moans filled the room as they started to get louder and louder with each passing moment, even though they were getting close you had no idea of Heeseung was. He usually moans loud and gets more noisy but since his friends are here you just think he doesn’t want to be as loud as he can get, if he wasn’t about to cum soon you sure were the thought of all of them and your boyfriend fucking up into you like he has never fucked you in ages was finally getting to you. Feeling yourself reach your limit you moaned to your boyfriend “Fuck keep going, i’m gonna cum. Cum with me, please.” the sound of skin hitting one another echoed through the room, some of his friends already came just from hearing such a lewd comment fall from your lips.
While others wanted to cum when you did including your boyfriend, he was getting close his cock kept uncontrollably twitching inside of you hitting your g-spot in all the right ways. “Fuck” You whispered as your climax hit you like a bus as you came on your boyfriend, just as you came he was not that far behind you while he quickly pulled out and squirted his cum all along your stomach. “Thank you.” He said as he pulled you closer to him while you cuddled into his chest, “You got really lucky man.” you hear Sunghoon mention to him. “I’m just better than you guys that’s why.”
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oops-all-concrete · 3 months
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Okay, you lovelies voted for fluff, so you're getting fluff! Welcome to:
BG3 companions react to: Tav drawing the companions in their sketch book! (Romance implied)
Beware spoilers and cuteness ahead, please enjoy!
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Lae'zel -
Eventually she gets irritated of being stared at, while Tav is sat pencil in book and puts down her sword from being sharpened, and paces over. "Chk. You've been ogling at me like a child for at least ten minutes. Is it with purpose or are you simply bad at keeping to yourself?" She asks, head tilted with wide eyed threat. Once she gets a glance at the page, she softens, jaw unclenching, shoulders dropping. She admires the sketch before she realises she too, is staring. "Hmm. Acceptable. Continue" Before she returns to her tent, and totally doesn't stay stiller on purpose.
Shadowheart -
Shadowheart doesn't suspect a thing, until she passes by them and totally doesn't take a glance in the journal from over Tavs shoulder. She pauses and appreciates the work long enough for Tav to realise they're being watched. "Oh don't mind me. I'm just appreciating my good side from your point of view." She smiles. "Oh, we should draw each other! I haven't sketched in so long, but I'd like for you to see what I see too." She offers, going and grabbing her own sketch set, sitting beside Tav, comfortably drawing them.
Wyll -
He allows Tav their privacy, even if they stare sometimes. He needs to be physically shown because he is too polite to snoop or look over their shoulder. Upon being shown, he smiles, but winces a little. "Oh, I love it, don't get me wrong. You've captured the Blade of Frontiers in all his glory...just, all his glory with horns and the devil's details" He chuckles, trying not to seem dissappointed. But upon another look, his eyes become wider with wonder. "...you know what, if thats what I look like to you, it's not as bad as I thought." He smiles.
Karlach -
She's nosy, okay? So when Tav puts down their book to help Gale with dinner, she sneaks a little peek, grabbing the pages with a clean cloth. She however, gives herself away immediately. "WOAH??" The whole camp turns but Karlach does not take notice. "SOLDIER?? YOU DREW THIS?? THIS IS AMAZING!" She yells, eyes bright, brows up, grin wide with teeth. The camp settles while dinner happens, but later in the evening, she pulls Tav aside to show them something. Upon a large empty plot of just dirt, Tav finds their face messily drawn with a stick into the dirt. "Can't quite draw right now, or ever really, but I wanted you to have a portrait too. Not bad, eh?"
Gale -
"Oh, and who's that handsome fellow?" He smirks, catching sight of the page one day. He asks for a better look and takes a moment to admire the sketch, before frowning. "Did you...draw me with gray hairs? Am I graying??" He asks, a hand combing through his so well maintained mane. "You didn't know?" Astarion weighs in, finding an opportunity to bully the wizard. "For a human, you are at that age, are you not, Gale?" Lae'zel adds. The wizard makes an almost theatric gasp, crossing his arms. "Gray suits you Gale!" Karlach insists, taking the drawing from Gale and admiring it. Gale pauses, looks again, and grins. "Now that you mention it..."
Astarion -
"Okay, so, that's clearly not any of the imbeciles over there, what handsome young men have you been seeing without me?" He jokes. It takes a minute, but the way Tav looks between Astarion and the book, gives it away. "...oh. That's me?" He seems to entirely lose his ability to speak. He gestures to take the book and have a better look, running his hand over the sketches, and then over his face, seeming almost confused. When prompted, he clears his throat. "Well, it's- ah, certainly flattering. Nice to have such a flattering mirror" He smiles, slipping back into his more confident persona. "In fact, I'd love to keep such a flattering masterpiece, if that would be quite alright with you?" He smiles confidently, but the way his eyes stray to the sketch tells all.
Bonus! The older generation
Halsin -
"I cannot recall the last time I have received a portrait in such likeness." He smiles fondly when Tav shows him the piece. "Might I take this back to the Grove? I'm particularly fond of anything you do really- but especially this" He asks, warm smile spread over his face. Should Tav allow it, he gives the best hug in thanks, promising to return the flattery in kind. (Yes, it will be whittling)
Jaheira -
Of course she gets a look while Tav is distracted. "Not bad. Better that bard songs, that's for sure" She smiles, nodding at the adventurer. She takes a second look and thinks for a moment. "...When did my face get so wrinkly?" She asks in a vaguely dissapointed wonder.
Minsc -
"Oh, my friend, you have a talent of flattery!" He claps and grins when he sees the work, but seems to be looking for something. "Oh- Erm, might I ask a question...where is Boo? You cannot have the great Minsc without his tiny, fluffy brain on his shoulder!" He asks, proudly producing the hamster in hand. Tav turns the page to reveal quite a few sketches of Boo. "What?? Did Boo pose for these?? How is he so accurately cute?? BOO, YOU LOOK ADORABLE! WHY DID NOBODY TELL MINSC IT WAS PORTRAIT DAY??"
Thank you for reading! Let me know what you'd like to read next. I have another poll coming soon as well 👀
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Note
Heyyy I would like to request something where lando and reader are fighting about something and reader is someone who doesn’t like confrontation and always backs away from a fight and just agrees with everything even though she doesn’t and after the fight she’s really hurt but she doesn’t want to talk about it and acts like everything is okay but ofcccc lando senses that something is wrong (sorry for the long request) if you don’t wanna do it it’s absolutely fine it’s really just something random that came to my crazy mind
No Risk. No Loss. - LN
I love this request, I just hope I write it well enough and never ever apologise for the length of the request. I got you girly ;)
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If there was one lesson that y/n has carried with her through her life. It's that if you don't take the risk of confrontation, you can't lose anything as a result of it.
But that's a lot harder of a rule to stick by sometimes.
"It was just an idea, Lando. I-I didn't mean to for it to be inconsiderate." Y/n states as they walk into the hotel room.
"But how exactly did you think it was going to work? I mean for god sake, y/n. I know we travel a lot but flying out back to England just to come back the US again? What kind of sense is that?"
"You're right, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, it was stupid." Y/n sighs shaking her head while Lando sighs at her.
"It's fine. I'm going to shower, you joining?"
"Uh, no I think I'm going to order food." Y/n state beginning tie her hair back. "Just going to eat and go to bed I think."
"Ok, well I won't be long." Lando nods moving over to her with a smile and kissing her quickly.
Lando disappears and y/n sighs looking the closed bathroom door before she sighs feeling her lip quiver.
She knows that he had valid points. Her idea to go home between races together maybe wasn't one she thought through enough but his reaction felt unnecessarily condescending.
Lando is known for his slightly abrasive attitude when it comes to speaking his mind. But sometimes y/n wishes he'd be just a little softer when it comes to her. Most of the time she can handle it and it's one of the things she loves about him, but in these moments she feels like it's just not the approach he needs to take with her.
-
Lando had noticed something off with y/n since after what he thought was just a conversation with a turn.
"Alright...I've had enough." Lando sighs as they sit down in the jet to get to Brazil. "What's going on? You've hardly spoken to me for two days."
Y/n looks at him with dead eyes that say more that she has possibly ever said to him before clearing her throat and shifting as she looks down at her phone.
"You've just been busy. I didn't want to bother you." Y/n shrugs making the curly haired man practically glare at her and while she can feel his gaze burning through her. "Does it really matter if I'm quiet?"
"If there's something wrong, and I know there is, then yes. So can you put your phone down and look at me, please?" Lando requests softly making her look at him, her jaw shifting as she looks at him. Her eyes shiny. "Baby, speak to me. What's going on? Please, whatever it is, I just want to make it right."
"Maybe I don't want to talk about it for a reason." Y/n huffs in frustration making Lando look at her with an expression that maybe shows just how annoyed he is.
"I'm not going to drop it. Whatever is upsetting you needs to be talked about for good reason." Lando states making her sigh at him. "Baby, please. If I did something wrong then I want to know."
Y/n is quiet for a long time the contemplation and silent war over what she really wants to do.
"You...upset me." Y/n starts while Lando frowns a little. "It's nothing...just...when you were saying that going home would be a bad idea between races you said it in a way that kind of...hurt."
Lando apparently takes his tone to go quiet. Not speaking for a couple beats before he lips and properly looks at her.
"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't...I mean I knew you were upset but I didn't think I'd upset you like that."
"You talked down to me and I just didn't want to argue. I hate arguing. Especially with you." Y/n rambles feeling her usual filter coming undone as she speaks more. "Lando, I love that you speak however you see fit but with me...maybe you could, just not be so harsh even if you do think I'm being stupid."
"You could never be stupid. I'm just an arsehole." Lando sighs shaking his head before groaning and wrapping his arms around her to pull her closer. "I'm sorry, really really sorry. But I miss you voice."
Y/n sighs looking at him for a moment, although she can't stop a smile from appearing when Lando suddenly pinches her nose making her push his hand away.
"You're such a muppet." Y/n laughs then accepting a light kiss. "It's not like I was intending to never speak again."
"Then I'd really be suffering...can you tell me next time I upset you? I know it's not easy to say it in the moment. But you always just...go quiet and I guess I feel like I'm in the right."
"Because I don't want us to be mad at each other. It sucks." Y/n pouts earning a sad smile from the young man. "I'll try to be better, I just don't want to argue."
"I'll try to be less of an arsehole who doesn't know how to speak to his own girlfriend with respect." Lando promises holding out his pinky which she laughs lightly at before they both lean forward to kiss the others hand, sealing the promise.
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evie-sturns · 2 months
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𝑀𝑜𝓇𝑒 - 𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈 𝒮𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓁𝑜
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summary: you're at chris's house to hangout and watch a movie, but it ends in you riding him till he cant think.
warnings: smut, sub!chris, swearing
requested: yuup
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me and chris have been together for a month or so, but we've never fucked. i mean, hes never really brought it up to me because he doesn't want to rush our relationship.
It's 8:30pm, and i'm approaching chris's front door for a movie night.
i knock 3 times softly on the front door and chris slowly opens it, his face lights up when he sees me.
"y/n! you look beautiful." he says giving me a hug and bringing me inside. hes wearing a white shirt and grey sweatpants, my heart drops as i see a slight dick imprint through his sweatpants.
"oh my god" i whisper to myself before i walk into his living room behind him, he jumps onto the couch and rests an arm on the headrest of the couch, signalling for me to come sit next to him.
"so what are we watching?" i say cuddling next to chris, resting my head on his chest.
he seems distracted by something, my eyebrows furrow "chris?" i repeat softly and he shakes his head quickly
"hm?" he says putting a pillow on his lap swiftly.
"you alright?" i say quietly as i flick through netflix, "y-yep yeah." he says frantically.
i put on a show and cuddle closer to chris, making myself comfortable, he squirms slightly before standing up off the couch. my cheeks flush as i see his lap, which now has a major tent on it.
hes hard.
he locks eyes with mine "im going to the bathroom" he says, droplets of sweat on his forehead form as he notices my eyes, fixed on his crotch. "chris.." i say slightly shocked as my eyes flicker from his dick to his eyes.
chris goes red as he stands looking at me with humilation spread on his face "shit sorry.." he mumble backing out of the living room.
"come back chris." i say staring at him and he walks slowly over to me in silence.
"sit down." i demand and he instantly does, he looks terrified and pissed with himself.
"sorry about you know.. that." he whispers "i can go fix it, just give me like 5 minutes, this is kind of embarrasing." he continues.
"dont be embarrased chris." i say palming his dick through his sweats, his breath hitches in his throat, his dick is pressing against the fabric practically begging to be realeased.
i squeeze his dick slightly through his pants making him throw his head back "please." he groans, lifting his hips into my hand. i sit up off the couch then kneel on the floor between his legs. he squirms as he whimpers "are you nervous." i tease, lifting his shirt up revealing his happy trail.
"do you touch yourself a lot chris?" i ask before licking a line from his belly button to the waistband of his sweats. "anwser me please." i say stopping all movements, making him moan lightly in desperation.
"sometimes." chris mumbles, covering his face. "how often." i question "every few days.." he lets out a shaky breath.
i slowly lower his sweatpants, revealing the base of his cock. he grips the pillow beside him "please y/n fuck.." he whines and i pull down the pants even more, his cock springs out onto his stomach and my eyes widen, hes big.
precum leaks out of his tip and down his length. the room is filled with his heavy breaths as i use the ends of my fingers to rub in the precum as a lube.
"chris, tell me what you want me to do."
"ride me please y/n, i cant.." he groans out and i nod, pulling my tanktop off of me and throwing it to the floor, my bra and shorts follow. chris's eyes are layed on me, "oh my fucking god your so beautiful" he whines.
i stand between his legs before sititng down on his thighs, straddling him. hes worked up. i decide to stop teasing and pull off my panties, his jaw slacks as his hair sticks to his forehead from sweat. i sit up slightly before moving up, positing myself above his tip.
i sink down, making chris moan lightly "fuck you're big." i groan as i sit down on his dick fully. "please keep going.." he whispers as he sinks his fingers into my waist.
after a few minutes of bouncing on his cock he starts to whimper "im so fucking close" he warns before cumming inside of me. "im sorry shit.." he says throwing his head back, instead of stopping i keep going at a quicker pace, overstimulating him "i cant.." he whines sinking his fingers further into my hips. hes already close again as i bounce faster and deeper.
without warning he releases again, deep in me. tears drop down his face from overstimulation and i quickly wipe them from his cheeks before finishing, letting out a soft but load moan.
i instantly pull off of him as he shakes, tears continue to slowly fall down his face. "dont cry, are you okay?" i say softly, sitting on the couch next to him. hes in utter shock. he nods as i pull him into a tight hug "that was alot.." he says shakily, but a small smirk plays at his lips. "i really liked it, you felt so good." he says embarrassed as i droop a leg over his thigh.
"chris." i say, my eyes widening.
"yeah..?"
"how the fuck are you hard again."
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fadedin2u · 3 months
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big flirt!
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MDNI 18+
summary: your friends force you to go out to a gay bar with them, and ellie buys you a drink.
content/tw: alcohol mention, subtop!ellie, slightly dom/switch!reader, reader and ellie are both drunk, face sitting(r!receiving), tribbing, strap-on(r!recieving), reader is called “girl” once or twice, afab!reader, reader is neither masc nor fem, college!ellie and reader, astrophysics major!ellie
notes: i left the ending written in away that i might add another part to this fic! lmk if u want that lol
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °
“hey, 6 o’clock, there’s a certified hottie staring at you-“ one of your well-meaning friends tells you, motioning (not very) discreetly behind you.
you turn around and your jaw nearly drops. the girl staring at you is stunning, with her dark auburn hair and flannel worn over a wife-beater, sitting at the bar and sipping her drink. you make eye contact with her momentarily, and turn back to your friend, mary, with wide eyes.
mary laughs, “are you gonna go for it?”
your friends had forced you to go out to this gay bar with the intention of meeting new people after a break up that left you a complete wreck. it’d been about 3 months since your ex broke the news that they weren’t in love with you anymore, and it made any kind of romantic prospects leave a bitter taste in your mouth till this day. not to mention, you’re wayyy too drunk at this point to be on your A-game with flirting. you make a face and mary groans.
“come on, dude! she’s gorgeous, clearly interested, what else could you ask for?”
you make another face, “just because she’s staring doesn’t mean that she’s necessarily interested-“
“how about if she’s walking over to you right now? does that make her interested?”
you hear someone clear their throat behind you, and you give mary a murderous look before turning to the stranger with a smile.
she gives you a slightly awkward smile in return, “hey. i, um, i’m sorry if this is forward, but could i buy you a drink?”
your stomach is absolutely in knots, but you nod. “yeah, i’d love that.”
the stranger gives you a relieved smile in return, extending her hand to you, “i’m ellie. what’s your drink?”
you give her your name, “-and just a rum and coke, thank you so much.”
ellie’s clearly pretty drunk as well, which makes you feel a little better. she leads you back over to the spot at the bar she was sitting at, giving you her hand to help as you hop onto the excessively tall bar seats. she gives the bar tender your drink order and orders another whiskey on the rocks for herself.
“so, do you come to this bar a lot?” you ask, and inwardly cringe at yourself. ‘i basically just asked “so, you come here often?” great.’
ellie makes a so-so motion with her hand, “sometimes, not very often though. i study astrophysics so i don’t usually have the free time to deal with a hangover.”
your eyebrows raise and your drunk brain speaks before you think, “wow, smart girl.”
ellie’s cheeks flush a little, and she looks down, “i don’t know about that, but i’m really passionate about it, which is more than half the battle, i think.”
you scoff, “please, you’re literally studying rocket science. you can’t convince me that you’re not smart now.”
ellie laughs a little, “okay, then i’ll just shut up and take the compliment. thank you.”
the bar tender gives you two your drinks and ellie takes a sip of her own, “so, what do you do?”
you take a sip of your own drink, “i’m a student right now too, i’m actually studying-“
suddenly, you hear a familiar beat in the background, and you stop talking, a (likely goofy) smile growing on your face, “oh my god, i fucking love this song. nicki minaj literally cannot miss.”
ellie laughs brightly at that, raising an eyebrow, “i absolutely fucking agree. do you wanna dance?”
“really?”
ellie nods, taking a large gulp of her whiskey, “for sure. i couldn’t live with myself knowing i cheated a pretty girl like you out of a dance break.”
you giggle and nod, chugging the rest of your drink faster than you probably should. ellie takes your hand and leads you out the the dance floor where there’s a large crowd of people dancing together. you pull ellie against you, your actions emboldened by the alcohol in your system. ellie immediately goes to hold on your hips, your bodies moving against each other.
you don’t really think to much about how you’re dancing, just letting your body move how it wants to. before you even realize what you’re doing, you’ve turned around in ellie’s hold, grinding your ass back against her hips. when you realize what’s happening, you nearly stop, but when you feel the tight grip of ellie’s hands on your hips and the way she’s grinding back into you, you relax. you stand back up straight, and wrap your arm up and behind you, holding onto the back of ellie’s head, which is now tucked against your neck. when you feel her lips against your jugular, you inhale sharply, pressing more into her.
you feel her kisses trail down to your shoulder, and you thank your good luck for deciding to wear a tank top. you feel her pelvis digging into your ass, and you can’t be sure because the music is so loud, but you swear you hear her moan.
you turn back around in her arms, and before either of you realize what’s happening, you’re locked into a heated kiss. your arms wrap around her neck, and one of her hands sneaks down from your hips to squeeze your ass. you moan into her mouth, and she takes the opportunity for her tongue to explore your mouth. when you separate, you’re both panting.
“wanna get an uber back to mine?” she asks loudly over the blasting music, and you nod right away.
——
the uber driver for the ride back will likely leave ellie with a low rating, thanks to the two of you not being able to detach your mouths from each other for longer than 5 seconds, but you two eventually make it back to ellie’s apartment.
once you’re in her bathroom, you push her back onto her bed between kisses and straddle her. she kisses your neck and chest, pushing your tank top up. you take it off for her and you’re left in your bra. ellie grins and starts kissing the exposed parts of your breasts.
“god, you’re so fucking pretty-“ ellie says as she takes off your bra, immediately latching onto one of your nipples. you moan softly and hold onto her head, your fingers threading through her hair.
you feel her warm tongue smooth over the hardened bud before switching to the other to give it the same attention. as she does, her hands come up to squeeze your tits. she’s still sucking and nipping gently as she looks up at you, her doe eyes stirring the heat in your belly. when she unlatches; her lips are a little swollen and wet with saliva.
“what am i allowed to do? what do you need?” ellie asks, smoothing her hands down your waist and hips.
you shiver slightly, “anything.”
ellie starts kissing your neck again, sucking a hickey into the crook of your neck, “you’re gonna need to be more detailed then that, doll.”
you bite your lip, your tipsy brain racing, “i need you to fuck me.”
ellie pulls back, a wide grin growing on her face, and she kisses your collarbone. “jesus christ, i’d fucking love too… can you sit on my face first?”
your exhale sharply and nod. ellie lies back on the bed and you slide off ellie, kicking off your jeans, leaving your underwear on, before crawling back up ellie’s body.
ellie grips your thighs as you position yourself over her face. “fuck, you smell good… you this wet for me, babe?”
you nod again, your cheeks hot.
her smile is a little cocky as she looks up at your face, and licks over the wet fabric of your underwear. your legs jolt a little and you let out a shaky breath.
ellie shoves her face further between your legs, and you swear you hear her whimper. she pulls your underwear to the side, and licks a broad stripe up your cunt.
you moan, your eyes falling shut as you hold onto her headboard.
she pulls back, “i said sit on my face, babe, not hover-“
ellie’s hands pull on your thighs so you rest your weight on her face fully. ellie becomes borderline ravenous, her tongue lapping at your pussy, slurping you up as her fingers dig into the fat of your ass and thighs.
you bite on your fist to muffle your loud moans, but ellie will have none of that, her arm reaching up to pull yours away from your face.
after a moment, ellie sticks her tongue fully out, letting you rub your clit against it as you please. your breaths become more and more unsteady.
ellie’s hands on your ass help guide your hips, and when she moves to suck on your clit, the suction makes your orgasm hit you like a freight train, bucking your hips against ellie’s face.
when you’ve come down, ellie helps you off of your face, and rummages through her drawer to grab her strap.
you stop her, your hand against her chest, “i wanna feel you against me first.”
ellie doesn’t need to hear anymore, and quickly starts taking off her clothes as you take off your underwear. she moves so she’s on top of you, hiking one of your legs over her shoulder. the moment her wet cunt grinds into yours, you both moan, your eyes rolling back into your head.
“you feel so fucking perfect, so fuckin good for me-“ she rambles
ellie starts thrusting her hips against yours, and you watch her small, perky tits bounce with each movement. your hand trails up to squeeze one of them and she whimpers softly. when you pinch her nipple between your fingers, she moans gutturally and moves against you faster. you’re not at all in control of how loud you’re moaning at this point.
“look at you, sweet girl, so fucking gorgeous-“
it isn’t long before your oversensitive clit is being brought closer to another orgasm. you make obscene noises as you cum again, ellie’s eyes trained on your face the whole time.
“there you go- let me cum all over that pretty- ah, fucking- mmmh, pussy-“ ellie grunts before cumming a few moments after you.
you both take about 5 seconds to recover before she’s scrambling to grab the strap. once ellie has it on, you lick your lips, staring at it.
“can i ride it?”
ellie’s eyes go big, and she basically throws herself onto the bed, lying back and patting her thigh.
you giggle and climb on top of her, kissing her lips again. she kisses you back eagerly, grabbing your hips and thrusting her hips up, but you pull back.
“nope. hands off and stay still.” you order, and her already very dilated eyes look like pools of black at this point. she nods, biting her lip.
you take the strap and run the tip of it through your folds. ellie whines as she watches this, her hips bucking a little with her fists clenching the sheets below her.
“hey, what did i just say?” you ask, a mischievous smile on your face.
she takes a shaky breath, “sorry.”
you laugh a little, “so needy, ellie.”
you make eye contact with her as your hand travels down your own body, taking the time to squeeze and play with your own breasts. meanwhile, ellie looks like she’s practically salivating.
your hand travels down your stomach to your cunt, rubbing your own clit for a second as ellie watches, her mouth agape.
your fingers spread your folds and dip inside you for a moment, curling up and making you moan.
ellie is desperate at this point, “please, jesus fucking christ, i need you so bad, you don’t under-“
you withdraw your fingers, giving ellie a look. “hmmm… sounds like you need something to keep that mouth of yours busy, huh?”
you bring your slick-covered fingers up to her mouth. “open.”
ellie immediately opens her mouth and starts sucking off your fingers, whimpers muffled.
you giggle, “awww, you’re too fucking cute… now keep sucking on those, yeah?”
without warning, you sink down onto ellie’s strap and start bouncing. ellie whines, her eyes fixated on your tits as they bounce with you, still eagerly sucking on your fingers. ellie’s eyes fall shut for a moment as the base of the harness gives her clit the friction she’s craving.
you keep bouncing on her strap, watching the fucked out glaze in ellie’s eyes, half-lidded and fully dilated.
“awww… you just needed to get fucked, that’s all… look how pretty you are…” you tease and ellie starts whimpering like she’s gonna come from your words alone.
after a few minutes, you start to tire and you take out the fingers in her mouth, slowing down, “now, fuck me like you mean it, ellie.”
those words are all the permission ellie need before flipping you over and drilling her hips into yours.
“-pussy’s so fuckin- fuck, so fuckin’ tight for me, babe-“ ellie whimpers, tucking her face into your neck.
you would find it more amusing that ellie is acting like this strap is physically attached to her if she wasn’t making you feel so fucking good. you cling onto her as she fucks you, slamming into you just right, over and over.
“i need to cum, please let me cum- i can’t fucking-“ ellie rambles, and you cut her off
“i’m close too, baby, it’s okay-“ you pant, your eyes clenching shut as she fucks you into your third orgasm.
ellie’s hips bottom out and she grinds herself deep into you as she cums against the base of the harness, her moans needy and breathy.
when you both start coming down, she pulls out and tosses the strap away wordlessly, going back to cuddle against you.
you’re completely exhausted (and both of you still slightly drunk) as you let her spoon you, barely saying anything before slipping into a deep sleep.
———
“so you just… left? without even saying goodbye?” mary asks over the phone as you walk into the music building on your college campus, lugging your beat up guitar with you.
“what was i supposed to do? make her breakfast and thank her for the 3 orgasms?” you ask, holding the door open for a girl running in behind you.
the girl gives you a look and your face gets hot, realizing she overheard what you said.
“i mean… maybe? she was super hot,” mary responds, slightly agitated
you groan, “yeah, she was hot, but i barely learned anything about her and we were both drunk. not necessarily promising grounds for a budding relationship.”
you walk up the steps to the room you’re headed to, checking your phone again for the right room number.
“yeah, but still. she seemed like she would be cool,” mary justifies and you sigh.
“well, if i ever see her again while we’re not drunk and horny, maybe i’ll ask her out. but right now, that’s really not a priority.” you say, finding the right practice room.
mary starts to talk again but you interrupt her, “i’m sorry, mary, but i have to go.”
“wait, why? i know you don’t have class right now.”
“i’m taking those private guitar lessons to satisfy that extracurricular credit, remember? it’s my first lesson, so i really don’t wanna be late,“ you say, and mary sighs.
“okay, whatever. have fun, and i’ll talk to you after?”
you agree and end the phone call, looking to check the room number again before you walk in.
your forced, ‘make a good impression’ smile is immediately wiped off your face when you see the familiar auburnette playing the guitar in front of you.
she looks up at you and her cheeks go red almost instantaneously.
you say, “sorry, i must be in the wrong room- i have a lesson-“
ellie’s eyebrows raise and she lets out a slow sigh, “you, uh, you have a lesson?”
you nod, gripping your guitar case.
ellie laughs a little, like this is some sort of prank that was pulled on her:
“then you’re in the right room, because i’m pretty sure i’m supposed to teach you guitar this semester.”
you sharply exhale the breath you were holding in as the realization of what’s going on sets in, “but… you’re an astrophysics major?”
ellie chuckles again, “and a music minor, babe.”
you restrain the groan that you desperately want to make, your stomach sinking.
ellie pats the empty seat next to her, “well… let’s get started then. you know any bar chords yet?”
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blissfullyapillow · 4 months
Text
┃Genshin + HSR men as spiderman (+ your boyfriend)
₊˚⊹♡ Various x gn reader
₊˚⊹♡ wc: 7,189
₊˚⊹♡ warnings: Baizhu. Alhaitham’s part is suggestive but nothing explicit. Caelus’ part contains a ton of references to various things (one of them being your option to choose between Caelus or Stelle when you start HSR). Overall fluffy scenarios w/ your boyfriend (who is also Spiderman) :> 
₊˚⊹♡ Pillow Talks: Some parts are proofread others aren’t (for once) because I wasn’t feeling up to it. I intentionally put Baizhu under warnings it's not a mistake, I thought I was being funny doing that lol. Ngl Caelus’ part is my fav <3 !! I have a ton of drafts I’ll eventually complete, life is just a lot for me rn. I love you all ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ ♡ <3
₊˚⊹♡ Masterlist
Alhaitham ✮ ๋ ࣭ ⭑ 〃
always has headphones on. Even when he’s fighting. He’s literally never seen without them
He’s been offered to do collaborations with many companies to make a model of headphones off the one’s he usually wears. He never accepts, unless it’s for his go to brand.
All villains know to leave spidey’s headphones alone. The last villain who broke his old pair didn’t make it out of the fight alive.
That wasn’t a joke.
Anyway, most people don’t ask about his headphones, rather reporters are always at their wits end since they can never get an interview out of him. Not even a brief still shot of him.
Hell, most people don’t even know what he sounds like.
For the most he’s a man of few words, but when he does speak? You’ll wish he hadn’t.
Very sassy. Has the best retorts and the most vile insults.
His suit is really cool too, and very practical.
He’s a college student when he isn’t spiderman. He’s scarily efficient at juggling his part time superhero duties along with his heavy college workload. Maybe it’s because he gets all his work done way in advance? Who knows.
He’s super gentle whenever he’s rescuing civilians. At most, he’ll say a word or two in response to their gratitude. Something along the lines of “yeah.” Or “It’s no problem” if you’re lucky. Most people don’t try to make conversation anyway. As stated before, he’s really good at dodging not only reporters but cameras in general.
So, imagine your surprise when he actually stops walking away after you’ve asked him what he’s listening to. You can’t see his face, but his spidery eyes widen comically in shock.
No one has ever asked him that before. You’d think someone would, but no one has.
So, he indulges you. “I’m not listening to anything at the moment. Sometimes I’ll have music playing, but for the most part I tend to use these just to block out noise. Plus, people tend to leave you alone when they see you have headphones on. It also makes for an adequate excuse to pretend I don’t hear people speaking to me.” Your mouth drops in pure shock at the fact that spiderman not only spoke to you, but he’s also.. very.. interesting.
Oh, he likes that look on your face. You can’t see it, but he has a huge smirk on his face underneath that mask.
Alhaitham recognized you from campus. Of course he was quick and efficient with moving you to safety before he took care of the danger, but he couldn’t return you to ground level until after the fight.
Speaking of fighting, he’s really good at it. His movements are calculated and precise. You made a mental note never to get on spider man's bad side as you watched him clock the villain square in the jaw, with no regard for whether they retain consciousness or not.
“I’ll see you around.” Is all he says now, before he web slings away. Wait, see you around? But he’s spiderman!
Little did you know that spiderman was your hot, intelligent classmate you had a raging crush on.
Lucky for you, it seems he may develop feelings for you too.
𓆩♡𓆪
“I thought I told you to leave your window unlocked? I’d hate to be spotted.” Alhaitham scolds you as you unlock your window for him, and he effortlessly slips into your abode.
“I’m sorry, but I like hearing your cute little knocks on my window. It’s the highlight of my day.” Alhaitham sighs, as if he’s annoyed, but in reality your words cause his heart to flutter.
Once he’s inside he slips off his mask and stretches his fit body. He catches sight of your lingering, fixed gaze. He smirks as he purposefully flexes his arms for you. Your head whips around, looking away as if he hadn’t caught your ogling.
“It seems like someone missed me.” His knowing words result in a click of your tongue. Yet, you find yourself melting in his warm embrace as he wraps his arms around you from behind. You’re a goner when he buries his face into the crook of your shoulder. He presses a kiss there.
As his lingering lips trail along your sensitive skin, you ask him your usual question. “What are you listening to?” He hums in contemplation as he thinks. “To the sound of your voice.” You suck in a breath, and he smiles.
That question is something of a routine between the two of you. You always ask him, ever since you learned of his identity during one of his canon events. His response will change depending on his mood, and it’s a good indicator of his current mood.
If he gives you an actual song, it’s an easy way to tell depending on the tone and meaning of the song. Otherwise, if he replies with “Nothing.” He’s either tired or on the verge of breaking. Usually it’s both, since he says the silence helps him think.
Now, if he responds with something sweet, like “The sound of your voice,” he either wants to cuddle or…
The firm press of his hand as it trails along your inner thigh is answer enough.
You feel heat warm the expanse of your body, but you pretend not to notice. “I thought you said class drained you earlier today?” You try to distract yourself with conversation. Alhaitham’s hand only travels up further. “It did. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, yet I was stuck listening to the professor droning on and on about a topic I’ve already read extensively about. Now, I can finally do what I’ve been wanting to do to all day long.” Alhaitham’s voice is rough, and his breath grazes the shell of your ear.
“Okay…” Is your eloquent response. You know if you turned around, you’d be met with that knowing smirk of his.
“Now, will you help me relax? Being spiderman is draining after all, and not being able to touch you the way you deserve all day has made me really tense.”
You have no objections when his fingers finally reach the place you’re craving it most.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
ᐟᐟ☆ Caelus .✮𖦹‪‪ ₊˚
Radiates the most Gen Z vibes it’s insane
Up to date on everything and anything pop culture related. Whether it be old or new.
A theater went into a frenzy when fans realized spider man was in the same theater watching Five Nights at Freddy’s with them
He was upset since he had to slip out and watch the movie at home on Peacock instead.
Anyway, he’s a real sweetheart. He always makes time to stop and help older individuals cross streets, helps children find missing items, and he’ll even give some citizens a lift to a place they’re running late to.
Well, he stopped doing that last one after the incident. … That was his second canon event.
He became spider man when a woman named Kafka purposefully had a mutated spider bite him. He doesn’t recall too much before that, and he’s not sure why he can’t, but that’s a part of his journey. To discover himself and put together pieces of his past.
He still occasionally runs into Kafka and her companions, but for the most part he’s still developing his own opinion of her.
He’s a ball of energy most days. Reporters love him since he’s always so receptive and open to their questions.
Yet, he has his moments. Some nights, if you look to the right building, you’ll spot a lone figure on top, staring into the vast night sky. On those nights, he imagines a life where he travels those skies, exploring what the universe has to offer. Maybe there are other planets out there? What if he could visit them, and experience intergalactic adventures?
Oh well. Maybe in another timeline. He isn’t a nameless traveler here after all.
Unbeknownst to the both of you, you’ve bumped into each other on countless occasions when he’s in his civilian form. Actually, you two are very close friends.
He’s debated with himself many times. Should he tell you the truth? Time and time again his answer was no, and for many reasons. One, Kafka clearly has a close eye on him, and he isn’t sure of her intentions yet. Two, he doesn’t want you needlessly worrying about him. Unfortunately, you already do.
So it honestly doesn’t come as a surprise when you stumble upon him during a particularly hard moment in time, and he lets it slip that he’s spiderman and he’a struggling.
Thankfully, you’re just the support he needed.
Now, he has a safe space. A person who feels like home in a place where he truly has none. And he’s eternally grateful to you for it.
As for you, he’s your personal ray of sunshine. You’re overjoyed you can play such a prominent role in his life, and you don’t love him any less for being spider man. If anything, you somehow worry less about him…?
It’s honestly hard when you watch him overcome many impossible odds. He even accumulates new powers every now and again! He’s really strong, mentally and physically, so it eases your worries at times.
Even if he does need a shoulder to lean on, as you often do, you’re more than happy to be that shoulder for him.
Honestly, it’s a good thing he has you. His future canon events look pretty… rough. Especially the one where he meets himself from a parallel universe. You know, the one where he’s a star instead of the sky.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Oh my gosh Name look! They even have my bat in the game!” Caelus happily swivels around in his chair to look at you, frantically pointing to his pc monitor all the while.
You look at the screen, and sure enough there’s a scarily accurate model of your superhero boyfriend in the game, currently performing a silly dance move.
“Ah.. I see..” Is your response. You really think it’s cool, but you want to tease him a bit. You struggle to contain your grin when he pouts at your lack of enthusiasm. “I thought you’d think it was cool….” You can only chuckle as you run soothing fingers through his soft locks.
“I do sweetheart, I do.” Your words make him visibly light up, and he practically jumps out of his chair to wrap his arms around you.
“Speaking of, I have something else I want to show you…”
Que a fun midnight outing on top of the tallest building overlooking the whole city.
“Wow.. this is beautiful..” Your eyes shine as bright as a dying supernova as you gaze upon the beautiful landscape before you.
Caelus is beaming with pride, glad he was able to surprise you like this.
“Yeah, I stumbled upon this view after a particularly hard battle.” He hums in content as he leans back, pulling you into him.
You rest your head against him, his chest a comfortable pillow.
You can feel his steady heartbeat beneath your ear, and it’s a soothing melody.
“Thank you for sticking by me all this time.” The words are a gentle caress against the shell of your ear, yet they cause your heart to ache.
“You don’t need to thank me for that, silly. I love you, and when you love someone and they’re good for you, you stand by them. No matter what. Yeah?” You gently pat his chest.
He smiles.
“Yeah.”
He’s silent again, and a comfortable atmosphere wraps around the two of you like a warm blanket right out of the dryer.
That is, until he decides to open his mouth.
“Don’t get too comfortable. I might just push you off.”
He looks at you to gauge your reaction.
Absolute horror is written on your features.
He loves it. It sends an electrifying thrill through him; he loves to tease you too.
“You’re getting too out of hand with these jokes of-“
His lips steal the rest of your words, and you allow it.
The city paints a magical backdrop for your moment of intimacy.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
Jing Yuan ⁞ ⟡ ⚡︎ ♡⸝⸝ 🕷 
This spider man is always accompanied by his cat, Mimi.
He rescued her during a particularly rough encounter. He tried to send her off after ensuring she was safe with authorities, but she refused to leave his side. Now, he already had a soft spot for cats, so it was a no brainer to him
Mimi has accompanied him ever since, and she even has her own little mask and everything.
Little does he know that the ‘cat’ he saved was really just another one of the smuggled exotic animals those crooks tried to sneak into the city. Mimi will no longer fit in that backpack of his in a few months time.
He’s really lazy, honestly. He calls it conserving energy, but really he will only intervene when it’s called for or if the situation is rapidly turning dire
He has many admirers. Pictures of blurry glimpses of his suit sell for hundreds, if not thousands of dollars, online
So, so many fan edits of him. And he’s seen ‘em all. He’s secretly really smug about it, but he keeps that to himself
He has a commanding presence, and an air of elegance about him. It almost feels like his fighting is an art of sorts. It’s fascinating to see the creative ways he’ll use his webs to get the job done.
Mimi has plushies, courtesy of collaboration with spiderman.
He bought the pre-orders for her plush and a few more when the official drop released
So, how did you end up with a man like Jing Yuan? Gorgeous, handsome Jing Yuan who's also a renowned general?
Simple. You're his personal alarm clock.
No. Literally. You were asked to wake him up after he fell asleep on the job again, as everyone else had grown tired of the task, and that was the beginning of an.. interesting dynamic.
The best part about it? One day you arrived a bit earlier than your usual time to wake him up, only to find the infamous spider man frantically urging Jing Yuan’s cat, Mimi, into a backpack.
Long story short, now you not only have to deal with waking him up, but you also have to deal with a clingy boyfriend who isn't afraid to his webs against you
𓆩♡𓆪
“Jing Yuan! I told you, this meeting is important and it’s imperative that-“
He blatantly ignores you as he webs the door shut, and now you’re stuck with him in his office.
“Mhm. I understand. Now come here, I miss you.” His stupid smile makes your heart race as he opens his arms, welcoming you in.
Ah, what the hell.
You all too easily bend to his whims. You quickly find yourself in his arms, snuggled against his warm body.
“That’s much better sweetheart. See? This isn’t so bad is it?” You abhor his teasing, yet all the same it sends a thrill through you.
“Shut up. I better not get in trouble because of you.” You sigh. “No one would dare say anything to you. If anyone ever does, I will personally tend to the matter.” His voice is tense, along with his statement, but all you feel is his thick hair tickling your cheek as he nuzzles his head against you.
A goofy smile spreads across your lips, and soon you forget all about the meeting as you enjoy each other’s embrace.
An adorable sound comes from Mimi, lounging somewhere in his office you assume. The usual.
“By the way, are we still on for dinner later?” Your question evoked a chuckle out of Jing Yuan.
“I wouldn’t miss dinner with you for the world.” “Not even if your spidey duties call?” Your quip causes an adorable pout to form on his lips.
“My ‘spidey duties’ can wait until I’m full and satiated. You mean more to me than you know, my sweet angel.” His words warm not only your heart, but your soul.
You completely lose track of time in his arms.
So it comes as quite a shock when obnoxious knocking can be heard on his office door. You know, the one that’s currently webbed shut?
“Jing Yuan!!”
Ah, Diviner Fu. She knows all too well that you’ve failed yet again to lure Jing Yuan out of his office.
“Ah, looks like dinner has arrived sooner than we expected sweetheart.” You squeal when he suddenly sits up with you still in his arms.
He uses his webs to grab his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder as Mimi hops in, used to this ordeal.
“Remember to hold on tight, okay?” He murmurs the words against the shell of your ear, before he slips on your own little mask over your face. Just as a precaution, though he’s really good at staying hidden whenever he’s with you.
“Off we go.”
And with that, you two sling out of the window of his office, leaving an exasperated Fu Xuan behind.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
♡ ┃ Kaedehara Kazuha ‧.°˖➴
He is the amazing spider man
Like, he’s the ultimate spider man. He’s kind yet deadly, and very friendly.
He’s as swift as the wind, and he actually travels with a sword. You’ve never seen Spiderman incorporate sword play in with his webs? Well, you’re in luck! Kazuha does this at a masterful level. He made it into a sort of art form as well. At the end of his fights he’ll always create beautiful imagery using his sword, carving out complicated shapes and scenes with his webs. It’s kind of like a signature of his
He’s pretty good at balancing his civilian and hero life. Although he may get caught up with things if unexpected incidents occur, which lets be honest, it happens all the time when you’re spider man
He’s genuinely so sweet, and it’s easy to see through his actions. The public loves him. He has loads of admirers.
After a very traumatic incident involving a close friend of his, he experienced a period of grief and depression
He got back on his feet eventually, and he awakened new powers within him! Well, that would be the only explanation for why he was suddenly able to use electricity during combat with a particularly strong villain
Not only does he use a sword but now he has the ability to wield electricity?
Once word of spider man’s new powers spread, the number of crimes that were committed went down drastically. Literally. Statistically crime rates decreased by 25% the following week. 25%. Your usual run of the mill people were too afraid to do anything after witnessing the devastating beating Kazuha gave to a particular individual
To be fair, he was late to your date because of them. He wasted no time, defeating that villain within mere seconds before frantically webbing away to meet you
Speaking of dates, Kazuha enjoys going on many dates with you.
From indoor cozy dates to public outings, typically walks through nature, Kazuha’s favorite past time is the time he spends with you
He often leaves you handwritten notes before he leaves, ranging from eloquent poetry of his feelings for you, to short blurbs of how your eyes make it physically impossible for him to focus on what you’re saying. (He felt bad because he got lost in your eyes while you were describing your Christmas decorating plans to him)
Overall, Kaedehara Kazuha is a model spider man. Kind and caring, yet swift and fatal when the situation needs him to be.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Kazuha, I told you I forgive you already!” You giggle despite your exasperation. Kazuha disregards your statement as he places fleeting, soft kisses on your person.
He starts with your hand. He holds your hand delicately, treating you as if you’re porcelain. He places a kiss to the back of your hand before his lips slowly trail up your arm.
Your heart melts at the tender gesture, all the while your body lights aflame with his burning gaze. His piercing orbs hold your gaze as his lips make their leisure ascent.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him even if you willed it.
“I promised you I wouldn’t be late to our date this week, but I was. You have my sincerest apologies, my love.” You feel his lips move as he murmurs the words against your skin.
“No need to be all formal. We’ve been together for how long now?” You murmur the words in embarrassment, as Kazuha’s lips now brush along your neck, teasing you.
“Hmm.. if I recall correctly, today would make five years correct?” You nod your head, yet your eyes drift shut as Kazuha playfully teases the skin of your neck with his teeth.
“Y-Yeah.. so..” Your mind is blank. You completely forgot the point you were trying to make.
You have a feeling that was his goal all along.
His lips finally reach their destination; his eager lips meet your parted ones.
You groan as he draws you closer, placing a firm hand on the back of your head. His kiss almost feels a bit desperate; his lips mold with yours in perfect sync as his free hand explores the expanse of your body.
When he finally parts from you, you take desperate gasps of air. His state isn’t much better; his lidded gaze roams your body as he takes deep breaths.
“Kazuha…” “hmm?” He smiles, a lazy, slow smile, and you know you’re not letting him leave any time soon.
“I.. um.. oh! I was going to say, before you rudely distracted me..” He chuckles at that, tracing the contour of your face with a finger as you continue to scold him. “It wasn’t your fault you were late. The police force needed backup and-“ His lips capture yours again.
You reluctantly press against his chest, gently pushing him away.
You pout.
He winks at you.
“I know, but it still took away from our precious time together. I wanted to make it up to you by arriving early today, but I wasn’t able to fulfill that desire.” He sighs, and his finger moves from your face down to your neck, lower to your collarbone.
“I promise you it’s okay, Kazuha. I understand. Although, if you really want to make it up to me…” This time, your gaze is the heated one as you skillfully unravel his ponytail.
He sucks in a breath at your action. “I have another desire that you most certainly can fulfill.”
“Ah, I like the sound of that.”
Lucky for you, he is more than able to fulfill that desire of yours.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
‧₊˚ ┊Shikanoin Heizou ⚖✮⋆˙✦
Public menace #1
He drives the police force crazy because he always solves all the cases before they can get to the bottom of it. He does so not only as spider man, but as his civilian self too.
He can be a bit of a flirt when he has the mask on.. well, ‘a bit’ is an understatement, but he doesn’t just flirt with everyone!
He really only flirts with you, honestly, yet you reject him time and time again. He was a bit puzzled, since he knows how flustered you get when he flirts with you without the mask. Maybe it’s because you don’t know it’s him? He’ll have to test that theory
Using his detective skills he quickly deduces that it was because you have a crush on him. Him. Not spider man.
He knows of your intense loyalty, so of course you wouldn’t entertain his flirting, even if the individual flirting with you is the spider man.
Once he figured that out, oh how much fun he has teasing you as spider man
He’ll use his webs to get around quickly and restrain his enemy, but in combat? He prefers to use his fists. He’s quick with it too. He’s Shikanoin ‘left, right, goodnight’ Heizou.
So, whenever he does use his webs in combat, you know he’s going against a formidable foe 
He’s super sweet to fans. Signatures, autographs, everything. On the sly though, when you still didn’t know he was spider man, he kissed an autograph he signed specifically for you before he handed it to you.
There was a visible mark left behind, and although you were annoyed you still kept the autograph (that you didn’t ask for)
When he finally revealed his identity to you, you were simultaneously livid and not surprised; You know of Heizou’s tendency to tease
He planned for the whole reveal to be super romantic and everything, and by the end of it you two became a couple.
You are the ones who create the iconic spider man kiss. He’s upside down, holding a handwritten confession of love, not a rose, that you cautiously take from his hand. In the letter he explicitly stated that spider man and the man you were currently crushing on are the same people. Following that was a very romantic declaration of his feelings for you.
When you looked up from reading the letter, you found yourself face to face with Shikanoin Heizou instead of the spider’s mask. The shock on your face was too adorable to ignore, so he kissed you whilst hanging upside down.
It was an… interesting experience, to say the least.
Would you repeat it? Absolutely.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Heizouuu….” Your whine is music to his ears.
He nuzzles his head further into your chest, and his sigh is one of contentment.
“Yesss..?” This time, you’re the one sighing, except it’s one of annoyance rather than content.
“I’ve needed to use the bathroom since five minutes ago.” “And I told you you’re welcome to. I will wait as my warm, loving arms ache for your return.” You scoff at his dramatic use of words.
“Thanks, Heizou, but how could I possibly go to the bathroom when your body is literally tangled with mine?” This question gives him pause, even though it really shouldn’t.
Said body adjusts a bit, but he makes no move to get off of you.
You’re currently lounging in bed, doing nothing really. Just enjoying Heizou’s company. It was nice until you had to use the bathroom, and with the way Heizou’s body is lying on you, legs entangled and arms wrapped around you, there’s no possible way for you to escape.
His head remains on your chest, but he looks up at you now.
“How about a deal? If you can solve this riddle-“
“Shikanoin Heizou.” 
“My apologies.”
He quickly moves off of you, and you make a beeline for the bathroom.
You’re not surprised when he’s on the other side of the door the moment you open it.
“Sometimes, Heizou, you just…” You struggle to find the words to properly express yourself.
“I just..?” He prompts you, guiding you back to the comfort of your shared bed.
You finally find the words you were searching for as you both resume your previous position, except this time Heizou’s head is buried against the crook of your neck.
“You just.. fail to surprise me, really. Which is funny, since you’re someone who’s full of them.” His body shakes against yours as he laughs at your bold statement.
“Ah, my lovely partner knows me so well. Honestly, how did a detective like me get so lucky? I believe that’s the biggest mystery of all.” His words fill you with warmth; they effectively morph your feelings of affectionate annoyance into a feeling of immense joy.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You do know I’m the one who got lucky, right?” You chuckle when he gasps, as if the very concept itself is absurd.
“I would refute that hypothesis of yours, but I believe it would only cause this conversation to continue in circles. So, I propose that we are both the luck ones. Do you agree?”
You feel his smile and hear the affection in his voice as his lips brush along your skin.
“Yeah.. I agree.” “Perfect.”
And with that, a comfortable silence fills the room once more.
It’s a relaxing evening, spent with your very loving and very dramatic boyfriend.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
Welt Yang ﹕⸝⸝ *:・゚✮
“Wait, spider man is an old man!?” Yeah and there’s a literal dinosaur who dons the mask in another universe. Your point?
Lol jokes aside, Welt is one of, if not the most, powerful spider man. I mean, he can literally manipulate gravity.
He’s also a huge nerd.
He always brings his cane along with him when he fights, so the enemy tends to underestimate him, thinking he’s close to retirement and should just give up the whole ‘hero act’ already. Honestly, maybe he should, but that day isn’t today.
If he gets particularly annoyed by comments from his opponents, he’ll just get rid of ‘em. via a mini black hole of sorts. It’s super effective.
He’s actually very fond of making jokes and semi-horrible puns. They make you laugh though. Others? Not so much.
Anyway, he’s very reserved and he won’t stick around for reporters to interview him. He’ll just give the necessary information needed for authorities to take over, and in the blink of an eye he’s gone.
For his day job, he’s an animator. A well renowned one too. He’s very casual about it though, and he doesn’t see it as something deserving of praise.
He’s taken on a young talent who’s a blank page, in the process of writing a story of their own.
You’re the one who finds out Welt’s well kept secret. He didn’t plan on revealing his identity to you, as he felt it was his burden to bear and he would hate to make you a target.
He’s experienced many battles and has faced numerous foes, so he’s very wise and experienced. He’s faced scenarios where his morals come into play, and that’s something he’s not fond of. He rather preserve his integrity and do things in a way that aligns with his inner values. He’s been granted many opportunities to do things in an underhanded manner, yet he has never taken that  opportunity.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Please please please!” You jump up and down in innocent joy, but the man before you pinches the bridge of his nose.
“No.”
“Why not? Please! I promise this is my last time asking.” You plead with him, moving to hold onto his arm.
“That’s the exact same line you use every time.” “It is not!” You retort.
“You said the same thing yesterday.”
“Welt, please!” Now you fix him with a pleading look, a look you know he can’t resist.
“Name, my ability to manipulate gravity is a powerful one that comes with great responsibility. It shouldn’t be used as a measly… ahem..” His cheeks take on a pink hue as he coughs into his fist.
You’ve pressed yourself against him, your head tilted as you gaze at him with that look in your eyes.
“…this is the last time.” His gruff response brings you to life, your eyes alighting with joy as you remove yourself from him.
He misses the warmth of your body, but your smile provides him with a permeating warmth that is different, but comforting all the same.
“You always say that.” Your bratty response irks him. In an instant your world is flipped upside down as your feet are lifted off the floor.
“Yay! Thank you Welt.” He can’t find it in himself to be annoyed when you’re doing silly little flips as your body floats in the air.
This has become a regular occurrence for you. Occasionally, when you’re in the mood to be a bit silly, you’ll ask Welt to use his gravity manipulation to suspend you in air.
He was opposed to it, but eventually you wore him down. Now, he agrees to give you a few moments of fun, although sparingly.
His gaze is soft as he watches you enjoy the moment with childlike glee, before you’re gently lowered to the ground once more.
“There. Satisfied?” His voice is rough and his gaze won’t meet yours, but his heart pounds in his chest. You really are too cute.
“Yes! Thank you, and I’m sorry I keep pestering you about it… but… I appreciate it.” You saddle up beside him and wrap your arms around him in a grounding hug.
He smiles.
“Don’t worry about it.” Is his simple response. He presses a sweet kiss to the crown of your head, before he rests his on top of yours.
Fwip!
You glance behind you when you hear the sound, just in time to see the door to your shared bedroom close shut. Your eyes study the webs on the door handle before you swivel around to face Welt.
His cheeks are tinted pink once more, but he meets your curious gaze.
“Let’s.. enjoy each other’s company for the remainder of the day.” His words cause your own face to heat up, but a sly smirk soon presents itself on your lips.
“Can’t get enough of me, can you?” You relish the look he fixes you with, and you willingly follow his lead to your neatly made bed.
“On the contrary, with that attitude of yours I get more than my fill of you.” His words are contradictory to his actions, since he’s pulling you closer as his lips seek yours.
You smile when his lips finally meet yours.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
‧₊˚ ┊Baizhu ⚕ *: ♥
With swift and deadly attacks that require minimal movement, Baizhu is always quick to subdue the enemy
Some days are harder than others for him, as he has a chronic illness. He still gets the job done, and he’s always advocating for others in a similar situation as him. He doesn’t reveal much to the media, but he does like to tell anyone who may hear “If I can be spiderman, then I know you can do anything you set your mind to.”
Instead of a spider biting him it was a snake. A talking snake no less. Her name is Changsheng, and she travels with him almost all the time.
Many ask to pet Changsheng. He turns down most requests but on rare occurrences he may let an individual do so (mainly children)
Has miraculous healing powers. He’s also a good sport at taking heavy hits, but he can only handle so much. Still, he’s stronger than you’d think, and he’s great at sporting others back to health. It’s almost like they were never sick at all once Baizhu tended to them. Unfortunately, his illness always seems to flair after he does so…
Speaking of, he’s well loved, Dr. Baizhu. He literally has a 5 star rating and everyone raves about him. You would think he would limit clients since he constantly gets a large influx of them, but he’s too kind to do anything of the sort.
Sometimes you have to scold him and force him to coax him into taking it easy; he tends to take on a bit more than he can handle.
He’ll say cheesy things like “You’re the remedy I’ve been searching for all my life. Most certainly.” Whenever you two are alone and spending quality time together. You can only smile when he tells you these things; He’s too cute to feign annoyance with.
He’s immune to poison. Don’t ask why he just is. (It’s totally not an added benefit of a contract he made)
𓆩♡𓆪
Your fingers gently scrub the area, and a noise akin to the sound of a satisfied cat purr is heard.
You bite your lip as you try to contain your smile, even though he wouldn’t be able to see it anyway.
You’ve finished lathering Baizhu’s hair in the floral conditioner. He allows you to finish the process of rinsing his hair, and the result is satisfactory. His hair, which now has the floral scent of the conditioner, has a renewed sheen to it.
“Your hair is gorgeous, Baizhu. Well taken care of too.” You hum, guiding him as you both move to sit down.
You sit on the couch, and have him sit in front of you on the floor.
You gently dry his hair as he leans back into you. It causes you to get a few droplets of water on your person but that’s insignificant to you.
It’s been a long time since you’ve seen your boyfriend so relaxed. He’s been overworking himself again, not only with his job as a doctor but with his spiderman man duties.
You insisted on a self care day since he has the day off, and you prayed people would stay in line today so he wouldn’t have to suit up.
It seems your prayers were answered; it’s now late evening and the orange hue of the sky is slowly morphing into a starry night sky.
The streets remain peaceful today.
A groan from Baizhu draws your attention.
He’s looking up at you with furrowed brows. “I thought I told you to stop worrying so much about me.” You ‘tsk’ at the audacity of his claim, opting to flick his forehead. It was a light flick, but he acts as if you’ve scorched him.
He hisses. He sounds like Changsheng.
You giggle.
“I know you aren’t telling me to stop worrying.” You shake your head in dismay, albeit a knowing smirk is on your lips.
“Name, I know I am not one to talk but I promise you I’ll take better care of my mental wellbeing. You have my word.” He places a comforting hand on your knee. The touch brings warmth to your skin.
“Promise?” Your voice is quiet. It sounds small. You’d be surprised if he even heard you.
You open your mouth to repeat your question, sure he hadn’t heard you, but he speaks before you can voice the question once more.
“I promise.” His statement is firm. When you look into his golden snake-like eyes, they’re full of life. Determination emanates from their intense gaze.
You believe him.
“Okay, good. I hate to see you like that, you know…” His gaze softens at the obvious concern on your face. He understands it comes from a place of love, so he only nods in understanding.
“I’m sorry sweetheart.” He reaches for your hand, still a bit wet from washing his hair, yet he places a kiss to your palm nonetheless.
With that, you resume your task.
You take your time braiding his hair. It’s relaxing, and the diffuser you have going only adds to the calm atmosphere.
As soon as you finish braiding his hair Baizhu moves. It startles you, but you’re soon put to ease when he sits beside you.
His arms wrap around you, and he rests your head on his shoulder. Your eyes fall shut as you breathe in the floral scent of his hair.
“Thank you.” He whispers the words, and you feel the soft press of his lips on your forehead. You feel the same touch on your nose, your cheek, your eyelids, until they finally press against your lips.
When he pulls away, you respond with a thank you of your own. He seems taken aback by your words, but then the sweetest smile lifts his lips.
“You are quite welcome.”
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
♡. Blade 🗡⭒⚠︎︎ ⛓°˖ 
He is the second spiderman in Caelus’s verse
He honestly feels as if the whole Spiderman role is a curse rather than a blessing, but he still plays the role nonetheless.
When he feels like it
Most people only know of Caelus as spiderman, but once Blade also took on the role there were rumors of a darker, more sinister spiderman seen webbing from building to building during the late hours of the night
Of course Caelus had to investigate said rumors, and that led to a one on one encounter with Blade and.. Kafka?
Long story short Blade begrudgingly helps Caelus out when he’s in a jam, but for the most part he keeps to the shadows and does his own thing. Whether what he does is morally ‘right or wrong’ doesn’t concern him.
He has the symbiote, Venom, and he absolutely hates it. Yet, well, here they are.
There was an incident when things got a little.. tense between Caelus and Blade. Before the situation escalated Kafka was able to get Blade under control.
Overall he doesn’t really do too much as ‘spiderman,’ but you’ll definitely have a chance at catching him beat the absolute shit out of a robber in a dark alley, their cries for help muffled as they’re eaten alive by the symbiote :D
Unfortunately for Blade, Kafka isn’t particularly fond of him eating people, due to the hassle of keeping it on the down-low. He’s supplied with massive amounts of chocolate to substitute for the people he was firmly told he can no longer consume, unless it’s a dire situation.
Blade truly sees his life as a misfortune, especially during moments where Caelus coerces him into helping him out. He’s really under no obligation to help, but something about Caelus persuades him to comply (albeit begrudgingly).
They make a great duo! Surprisingly. Like, Caelus can already be a hard hitter, when he chooses to use his bat, but add Blade into the mix? Whoever they’re fighting is not surviving that fight.
𓆩♡𓆪
Your hands slip under his shirt, cold against the warm skin of his abdomen. You trace the outline of his many scars; they feel rough against the delicate pads of your fingers. You move closer to Blade, burying your head into the crook of his neck.
You can feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest against your own; it soothes you.
He moves, his hands slipping under your shirt as well, tracing the curve of your spine.
“You really are such a handful…” He murmurs the words, quiet and emitting a gentle warmth. You shiver from his gentle touch, cold fingers leisurely teasing your skin.
You debate speaking up, to let him know you’re awake, but you quickly decide against it when he speaks once more.
“No one could compare to you. When I’m with you, I feel a warmth I haven’t felt in a long, long time…” Blade’s uncharacteristically honest words cause your heart to swell.
You struggle to contain your smile. You feel him shift closer to you, and soon a pair of surprisingly soft lips are pressed against your temple.
He remains silent now. Enjoying the peaceful atmosphere, running his hands along your skin.
“I love you too.” You finally say. He startles for a moment, and it makes you giggle. When you pull your head away from his neck you’re barely able to make out the sight of his flushed cheeks before he shoves your face back to its previous position.
He says nothing, but the smile on his face says all the things he fails to put into words.
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Text
Aussie Slang || Tom Blyth x Actress!Reader
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Summary: You quiz Tom on set on some Australian slangs as his Aussie gf ;)
A/n: Inspired by the interview between Sydney Sweeney and Joe Davidson, also bc as an Aussie this was fun to do lol 🙈
Warnings: none
Wc:
actress!reader au masterlist
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Divider by @pommecita
"Tomm" You enter your shared trailer with your phone in hand, recording. "Yes, darling?" Tom looks up from his script as he gives you a smile and slightly confused face as he looks towards your phone. "I'm going to test your knowledge on aussie slang and words," You set up your camera on the table in front of him as he pulls you by your waist to sit on his lap.
He touches your hair that were in hair rollers as you smile at his buzzed hair, your favourite look on him. "I feel like I'm going to be absolutely terrible as this," He points out as you chuckle, fixing your camera. "I know, especially since I don't really say some of the stuff I'm going to quiz you on," You giggle as he throws his head back.
"That's even better," He sarcastically says with a smile as you pull out a small note book with the things you wrote down. "Okay, first one, are you ready?" You hype Tom up as he nervously looks at you. "This one is an easy one, I say it all the time. She'll be right"
You hide your smile behind the notebook as he thinks, "She'll be right?" You nod at him, "When have you said this?" He looks at you dumbfounded as your jaw drops, "Tom! I say this all the time, I even said it just this morning!" "I was half asleep this morning!" He reasons as you cover your face and laugh.
"This morning you told me it was going to be colder today and you said to bring my jacket remember?" "Yeah..." "Well I said she'll be right and I regretted not bringing one so you gave me yours. There you go, I just gave you a hint!"
Tom's mouth forms an o shaped, "Doesn't it just mean it's all good?" "Yes!" You chuckle. "Okay, that was an easy one" Tom smiles as you give him a look and look to the camera shaking your head. "Okay next one, I don't really say this to you but when I'm talking to my sister on the phone, you might hear me say this one: scoenonn"
Tom gives you the weirdest look as you laugh so hard tears started to form. "I'm sorry could you repeat that?" Tom looks absolutely baffled. "Scoenonn." You say in your Australian accent one more time as he shakes his head. "Is that even english?" He quietly laughs to himself as he thinks hard. "I say this to my sister when I greet her sometimes," You give him a hint.
"I actually have no idea," Tom says, his finger drawing circles on your back. "It just means what's going on" You laugh as Tom pulls another baffled expression. "Why can't you just say what's going on instead of what you just- How do you even spell that!" You show your notebook to Tom as he furrows his eyebrows at the spelling.
"Scoenonn. Wow." He chuckles to himself. "For this one I'm going to have to actually find it around here,” you look around the trailer before getting off Tom's lap and running into the bedroom and to your bedside drawer pulling it out. "Babe, what's this?" You show him a tub of vaseline as he gives you an odd look. "Vaseline?" He says in a questioning tone as he gives you space to sit back on his lap.
"Yes, but what do Aussies call this?" You hold it up to him before applying it to your lips as he watches you intently. "Uh-" "I think I have said it to you when I ask you where it is," Tom rubs his chin as he thinks. "Is it something completely whack and doesn't make sense?" He asks as you shake your head.
"This is fun," You giggle as you look to your phone. Tom lets out a groan of frustration, "Can you just tell me?" "Fine. Vaso. We call it Vaso" You couldn't help the smile that was forming on your lips as he shakes his head and laughs.
"You aussies sure do like shortening things up," He points out as you laugh at his comment. "Okay second last one, "What is a bottle-o." "A bottle-O? Is that just a a type of bottle?" You shake your head, "Nope." "Uhm, is it a name of a shop in Australia?" "You're getting there!" You chuckle.
"Want me to put it in a sentence?" You asks as he nods, "Do you wanna come with me to the bottle-o and pick out a few beers?" Your aussie accent comes through as he smiles at you accent. Tom absolutely adores your accent and could listen to you talking all day if it mean hearing your accent.
"A bottle shop?" He guesses as you pat his shoulder. "Good job babe," You grin as you flip the page of your notebook. "Okay last one, If you don't get this one, your aussie fans are going to be so disappointed as well as your girlfriend." You tease him.
"Aussie Aussie Aussie," You watch him as he repeats it to himself before his eyes light up. "Oi oi oi!" He chants back as the two of you burst out laughing. "Yes!" You wrap your arms around his neck as his arms wrap themselves around your waist. "This was fun wasn't?" You say as you lean forward and grab your phone, aiming it towards you two in each others embrace.
"Maybe I should quiz you on some British slangs, see how you go," Tom looks at you with a smile on his face as you make eye contact with him, "I'd be so good at that love," You chuckle before ending the video. You posted it on your Instagram and it blew up. Tom kept his promise of testing you on British slangs and that video also became very popular which then turned into your little thing of quizzing the other cast members.
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princessbrunette · 6 months
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kinktober : oct 3rd
simon riley x teasing / bratting
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winding simon up was so much fun.
it really gets your heart racing after a slow week, you know? sometimes, you were restless and antsy — and you needed your giant, strong man to threaten you a little to feel something.
so, you’d pretty much been slutting yourself out to him around the base.
it was unlike you, his demure thing that respected privacy and boundaries as much as he did. but, occasionally — you both liked the thrill. which is why you had taken the chance to be extra chatty and sweet with his men, brushing it off as “i’m a nurse, si. you expect me not to speak to people now?” however, it wasn’t just that. it was the tight outfits, the dropping things on the floor just to bend over right in front of him before he goes off on duty — and worst of all, when he’d give you little to no reaction, the touching.
you’d spot him near the dining hall, a quiet night on the base. he was stood, arms crossed after training some newer recruits and he just looked so fucking big. he wore a long sleeve black thermal shirt, stretched across thick muscle, and black cargo pants, the thick belt accentuating his waist. he had his usual black balaclava on, and his boots added an inch or so onto his already imposing height. you felt yourself fucking clench, and for no reason other than he looked good.
you skip over, all bouncy and smiles and he has to fight not to let a smile slip himself — his eyes softening.
“si!” you smile softly, approaching and he turns his body towards you. simon always gave you his full attention.
“you alright, love?” he gruffs in that low voice, and you can barely contain the horny and dumb expression from sliding across your features, blinking up at him with large doe eyes as you suck on your bottom lip. tease, he thinks.
“missed you, been neglecting me.” you groan, and he can tell by your voice that you don’t really feel any kind of way about it. there’s something bigger at play here and he knows it already.
“was trainin’ the rookies.” his eyes don’t leave yours as you step closer, tits brushing against his stomach.
“mhm? how was it?” you converse sweetly, barely glancing around to see if there were any wandering eyes before reaching down to his belt, playfully tugging at it before your hand wanders lower, feeling his heavy shape under your palm. he harshly grabs your wrist, pinning it in the air as he stares you down, voice dropping an octave.
“you think that’s wise, nurse? doin’ that right here?” nurse. he always calls you that when you’d been bad. bingo.
his intimidating glare makes you falter for just a second, ripping your eyes away to recoup but when you do he moves his head to follow your gaze, stepping forward so you’re backed up against the wall.
“don’t know what you’re talking about.” you try, but it doesn’t come out as confident.
“no? reckon you’ve been behaving this week, then?” he pushes, muscles tight with frustration. he’d been waiting for the chance to pounce, and you’d barely even pushed his button. you hold your chin up, putting on the act.
“i have. i’m a good girl.” you tease and he scoffs, eyes darting about the hallway before grabbing you roughly by the waistband and stuffing his thick arm down there, strong hand pushing past your panties. you let out a quiet yelp when he slides his fingers through slick, tutting at you and pulling his hand out.
“as i thought. all wet over nothing.” he berates, opening your jaw with one hand and stuffing his wet fingers into your mouth with the other. your eyes water as they stare up at him mercilessly, threatening to roll back when you choke on them just a little. you’re saved by the sound of footsteps and he pulls back, a string of saliva following his hand when it departs and snapping against your chin, making you splutter a little, wiping it with the back of your hand.
you think he might let you run off, now that there’s people around but he grasps you by the back of the neck when you turn around, practically walking you like a dog in the direction of your dorm. “c’mon, know you’re fuckin’ dyin’ for it. walk that sorry little arse all the way to your room.” his voice is a mere growl now and all you can do is silently nod, cunt clenching around nothing.
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girlgenius1111 · 10 days
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please.
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smut. 18+. alexia has a rough game, and needs something different from r. bottom!alexia
-----
You knew what Alexia wanted solely from the look on her face as she greeted you after the game. Maybe wanted was the wrong word; the look in her eyes was one of need. It was a rough game, ending in a draw. It should have been an easy win, but no one clicked today. It was likely the sheer amount of games the team had been playing, but that didn’t make anyone feel better. It especially didn’t make Alexia feel better, who took every result that wasn’t a win like a personal failure. She was barely hanging on, and that fact was very obvious to you, so you skipped the post game shower, electing to do it at home. Your girlfriend had sped through her own post-match routine, and was waiting impatiently by the door, ignoring everyone. 
Alexia was an enigma, sometimes. You knew what she needed from you, but watched as she fought herself on it. She shook off your casual touch in the locker room, didn’t hold your hand in the car like she normally did. She didn’t really even speak a word to you when you headed to the bathroom to shower, completely lost in her own thoughts. 
Still, you knew generally what would be waiting for you when you left the bathroom. Some variation of a very vulnerable Alexia, looking at you pleadingly. She always wanted you to do it without making her ask explicitly for what she wanted. You never went along with this, though. Part of what she needed was verbally letting go. Admitting what she needed was very necessary. 
Alexia wasn’t waiting on the bed for you like you expected. No, when you opened the door and stepped into the bedroom Alexia was standing right in front of you, like she’d been pacing there. She was completely naked, a sight that normally you’d take a minute to admire. She moved forward, curling her larger body into yours, and pressing something into your hands. Evidently, Alexia hoped that this wordless gesture would be enough for you. 
“Hey baby,” you murmured, taking the strap out of her hands and into one of yours, allowing your towel to drop to the ground. 
“Amor,” she practically whimpered, so softly you could barely hear it. Her forehead leaned down to press into yours, and you sighed, relishing the close contact. You didn’t love the events that led up to Alexia needing you like this, but you did love when she got like this. So desperate, so needy, only for you. 
“Tell me what you need.” You encouraged, running a hand through her damp blonde hair. Her roots were starting to grow out a bit, back to brown, and you loved the simple imperfection. 
“Please, amor. It is all too much. Por favor, te necesito.”
“What do you need from me?” You asked again. You needed her to let go, give up control, and you could tell by the tension in her jaw and neck that she was still holding onto it. “Tell me, beautiful, and I’ll give it to you.” 
Alexia took several deep breaths, forcing her body to relax, before she spoke. “Take control. Dime que soy buena.” Her words were barely more than a series of hot breaths on your face, and still, you felt a part of you shatter at them. For her to ask for that… you couldn’t begin to conceive how badly she must be feeling, how worthless. You hated how hard she was on herself, more than anything, desperately wished that she would just cut herself some slack, but that wasn’t Alexia. What you could do, though, was what she was asking of you. And you could do it well. 
“Amor, you are so so good, telling me exactly what you need. Get on the bed for me, alright?” She sighed in relief in response, dropping her forehead onto your shoulder before she moved. “Do you need the handcuffs?” 
You left it up to her. Sometimes, she needed to feel you. Other times, she wouldn’t be able to let go without you making her, without restraining her until she had no choice but to beg for what she wanted. 
“Sí” 
Alexia headed for the bed, while you got what you needed out of the drawer. 
“Blindfold?” You asked. 
“No. I need to see you.” She rasped. 
You made quick work of attaching the handcuffs to her wrists, and then to the headboard. She pulled at them almost instinctively as you straddled her. Her head raised eagerly to meet yours in a searing kiss. She fought for control on instinct, but went limp under you when you gripped her face in between your hands. Kissing Alexia was the easiest thing you’d ever done, the easiest thing you would ever do. It was completely instinctual the way your lips molded to hers, the way your tongue fit into her mouth, the way you took her face in your hands like she was delicate, fragile.
She was a complete mess underneath you, acting the way you normally did after she’d teased you for hours. She was kissing you back, hungrily, but little sounds were escaping her mouth at the same time, and she was practically holding herself up off the bed in an attempt to get you closer to her. You could have made out with her forever, truly, but she quickly grew impatient, as you knew she would. 
“Bebè, I need more,” she whined, clearly not content with only kisses from you.
“Do you trust me, pretty girl?” You pulled back briefly, looking intently into her hazel eyes. They were practically pleading with you themselves. 
Alexia shuddered at the phrase, her body twitching under yours. “Yes,” she breathed. 
“Then relax. I'm going to take care of you. I.” You pecked her lips in between words.” Love. Kissing. You. Let yourself feel good, Alexia. You deserve it, you’re my good girl.” 
“I am?” she whimpered, looking at you with an intensity you hadn’t seen from her before. 
It was at this point that you realized a conversation would need to be had later, where you seriously checked in on your girlfriend. This was all about reassurance for her, yes, but never before had she asked you so explicitly to praise her. Pair that with how she was acting even though you’d barely touched her? Something else was going on with her, you were sure. And you’d fix it. Fucking her until she could barely speak was just part of that process. 
“You are. My perfect girl, my best girl. Only mine, sí? All you need to do is relax, and focus on how good I'm making you feel.” 
“Mmm, por favor,” Alexia hummed. She looked almost overwhelmed with need for you, her arms restrained over her head, hips attempting to jerk up into you, but you wanted to take things slow, ease her into it, in case it became too much. 
“You promise to tell me if you need to stop or slow down?” You checked. Alexia could be… difficult sometimes. She was always up for a challenge, and she didn’t like to admit defeat. You were working on getting her to realize that asking for what she needed wasn’t defeat. 
“I promise, amor, please touch me,” she begged. 
You decided to give in, just slightly, and you left a trail of kisses down her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, until you came to pause over her chest. Alexia’s nipples were unusually sensitive, and she normally didn’t want you near them, unless she was really far gone. You looked up at her, a question hanging between the two of you, but she didn’t see it, her eyes shut as her hands strained against the cuffs. 
“Amor, do something,” she begged. You stifled a laugh, knowing she likely wouldn’t appreciate it, and rubbed her cheek with your thumb. 
“Tell me what you want, baby,” you encouraged. 
“Here, please,” she requested, pushing her chest up towards your face. You dusted kisses around it, before you leaned down fully, taking her nipple into your mouth and sucking, hard. 
Alexia’s back arched off the bed at the sudden intense stimulation. “Fuck, fuck, sí, amor, sí,” she cried. She was breathing hard, twitching under you. You’d been working at her nipple for less than 20 seconds before she spoke again. “Fingers, amor, por el otro, por favor,” 
You smiled against her, partially granting her request as you switched to her other nipple, and brought your fingers to toy with the one you’d just had in your mouth. 
“Perfecta, perfecta, mi amor, ay dios mío,” she whined, and you released her mouth with a loud pop, focusing now on sucking deep marks into the skin of her chest. 
“No marks, bebé,” she tried, but you frowned at her, shaking your head. She returned your frown, though it looked more like a pout. 
“No. I will leave marks if I want. Because you are my good girl, and everyone should know who you belong to.” You weren’t normally possessive, but you made a note to be more often when you saw the way Alexia’s pupils dilated, and her jaw went slack. 
Her hands pulled hard at the restraints, as she grew more and more needy, and you could see red marks beginning to form on them.  
“Amor, easy on your wrists,” you reminded her, and slowly, her arms relaxed, falling slack in the hold they were in. 
She didn’t relent, though, not really, and she forced her eyes back open, focusing on you.
“Please, cariño, I am so wet. Tócame.”
You leaned up off her, kneeling over her as you very slowly slid down her body, spreading her legs as you did so. You hovered your mouth over her core, practically salivating at how wet she was, her pussy glistening and throbbing already. You’d never seen her this worked up before, and you couldn’t help but tease her, just a bit. 
“You are wet, baby, you’ve already made such a mess. Who is this all for, hmm?” 
Alexia groaned, feeling your hot breath on her. “You,”
“Where do you want me to touch you?” 
Her face flushed a bright red, but she responded nonetheless. “My pussy, amor, please,” 
You had her right where you wanted her, finally, and you got right to work, immediately running your tongue through her, from her hole up to her clit. You licked around, keeping your attention not focused really anywhere specific, not wanting to make her come too fast, knowing that she was likely close already. 
“Mierda,”  she mumbled in a choked voice, grinding her hips up into your face without restraint. You were really just finding a rhythm, just beginning to focus your tongue on her clit when her muscles tensed on either side of your head, and she cried out loudly. 
You froze, stunned that she’d come so fast, with so little stimulation. She must have been even more turned on than you’d thought. 
“Did you just come?” you asked, rubbing a hand up and down her abdomen. 
“Sí amor, lo siento, I could not stop it,” she whimpered, looking almost close to tears. 
You figured the best way to reassure her was to let her know that you weren’t stopping to punish her, so you brought a finger up to tease over her hole, watching as her neck went slack, and her head fell back onto the bed, soft cries spilling out of her mouth. 
“Don’t say sorry, baby. I want you to come, as many times as you need to, whenever you want to, okay?” 
She could only hum in response, hips jerking as you inched your finger into her, finding that it slid in easily. You let it rest inside of her for a minute, not moving, highly enjoying the way her walls quivered around you. 
When you did move, it was rapid, sliding a second finger into her easily and beginning to fuck your fingers in and out quickly. You could sense she was only growing needier, and that she’d want your face close to hers soon, so you took advantage of the remaining time you had eye level with her cunt, and watched as her hole sucked your fingers in eagerly, watched as her thigh muscles tensed, and as she bit her lip. 
It only took a couple minutes before she was tightening around you, and her chest was rising and falling rapidly. 
“Gon-gonna come, fuck,” she whined, trying her best to warn you this time. 
“Come, baby,” you encouraged, and it was only moments before she did, your name falling from her lips repeatedly. Her head twisted, and she bit down on where her arm was held next to her face, apparently unable to stop herself from growing louder. 
“So good, baby, you sound so pretty when you come, don’t you?” You cooed at her, and she whimpered into her arm, her teeth having released the skin they’d captured. 
She was half brainless, and she didn’t really notice when you slid away from her and off the bed. She was too busy trying to focus on your words, focus on the feeling of you inside of her. You kept saying she was good, so… she must be? Right? 
The blonde’s eyes flew open when she felt you bend her knees and push them away from her body, until she was spread open wide for you. You had the strap on, the dildo Alexia normally took attached to it. 
She looked from it, up to your face, clearly reading the question you were asking. 
“Sí, amor, I want it.” She promised, working hard to keep her voice steady even as it shook with anticipation. 
“Good. I’ve wanted to fuck you all week.” You murmured, pressing into her all at once. The moan that escaped her lips was loud and gratuitous, but you knew it was entirely authentic. You knew how to make Alexia come fast with the strap, as that was normally what she needed when you took control, so you angled it just right, gripped her legs in your hands to hold them open, and fucked into her. Hard. 
All that can be heard in the room is the smack of your hips meeting hers, the filthy sound the dildo made as it wetly pumped in and out of her, and the quiet whimpers you were fucking out of Alexia. 
You fucked her right through this orgasm, barely slowing down even when she clenched tight around you and you could barely move. You kept up a soft grind, cooing at her softly as she writhed against the bed, mouth opening and closing as no sound escaped. 
“Amor,” she gasped eventually, “beso, por favor, necesito un beso.” 
You leaned down easily, keeping up your pace, as you kissed her. It wasn’t as hungry as it was before, Alexia barely moved her lips against yours, and you knew she needed the contact more than anything. You pulled away briefly, thanking the universe that you hadn’t played the full 90, and could rely on your thighs and abs to keep fucking her slowly, as you unlocked the handcuffs.  Her arms almost instantly wrapped around your back, insistently pulling you close to her. Her legs wrapped around your back, too, and she buried her face in your neck, until all you could feel was her wetness spread across your waist, and her warm exhales on your neck. 
You sped up again, thrusting deep and hard inside of her, making sure to get the angle just write, as you moved your head to be able to whisper in her ear. 
“You are so perfect, baby. So good when I fuck you. So wet, so tight, so fucking beautiful.”
“Amor,” she cried, her nails clawing marks into your back. You didn’t care, not at all. You only cared about the way your girlfriend was clinging to you so desperately, the way she met your words of praise with such insecurity and eagerness. 
“I want you to come for me, baby, okay? I want you to come on my cock while I’m deep inside of you. Can you do that?” 
“Sí, I am close, so close,” 
“Good, good girl. Do you know how good you are? My girl, you are so perfect. Come for me.” You encouraged, and Alexia reacted to your words exactly as you hoped, body jerking and trembling under yours as she came, her loud moans muffled in the skin of your neck. It lasted for a while and you worked her through it, keeping up your thrusts but slowing them down, until you were stopped, still settled deep inside of her. You made to pull out, but Alexia shook her head insistently, clinging tightly onto you. 
“Stay, please, not yet.” She requested, her voice wavering. 
“Okay, mi amor. Okay.” You allowed, letting your body relax on top of hers, running a few fingers through your hair as you felt her go limp under you, everything relaxing except for her arms still wrapped around your back. 
You weren’t going to let go until she was ready, but at the same time, you needed her to talk to you. You enjoyed being close to her, making her scream your name, as you always did. But you were concerned, more than anything. Whatever was wrong wasn’t something that could be fixed by just sex, so you let her take her time, knowing you would be making her talk when she was a little bit more herself.  ------
part 2 with aftercare? someone take part 2s away from me.
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peachesofteal · 2 months
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The Acheron
An Ichor Veil (of Flower Kings) masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 10.6k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Modern retelling - Greek mythology AU. Hades and Persephone. Two Kings of the Underworld. Abuse (by reader's mother). Bad BDSM etiquette. Dom Simon Riley. Switch John MacTavish. Impact play, spanking. Ichor (blood) play. Non-con voyeurism. Kidnapping. Submissive reader. Reader is named Persephone but has no physical characteristics. Alcohol. Praise kink. Biting. Anal play. Subspace. Dubious consent. First they're sour, then they're sweet, then... they're sour. Tags are for your health, not mine. .A meeting, a trick, a meal.
Hebe’s is humming.
You nod to her through the crowd, a gaggle of mortals waiting at the counter, the line of them moving swiftly as they order their pastry-coffee duo for this dreary, rain slogged morning.
Her perpetually young face lights with exuberance once she spots you, and you can’t help the smile that fights into place at the sight of her. Hebe is a cherub. Soft, curved for ages, like she had been sculpted by her father himself. Today, she’s dolled up in tones of pink; pink lipstick, fuchsia stained cheeks, magenta streaks in her otherwise dark, tightly coiled hair that sits at her shoulders.
For a while, before you were brazenly corrected, you wondered if maybe your mother wanted Hebe as a daughter, instead of you. A perfect picture of untouched purity and power, an eternal cupbearer, worshipped as the goddess of Mercy. She was sweet, like her famous Portokalopita, orange syrup cake that drew a group of wanting mortals at the door every morning. She’s a stunner. A mountain of sunshine, a ray of positivity.
Sometimes, you hate her for it, even if she is one of your best friends. 
Something about her cheerful demeanor can dig at you, scrape along the sticky matter of your brain, gnaw at the soft bits that you’re still trying to protect, tender pieces that match your heart.
You follow the hall to the back room, where bookshelves taper off and large floor to ceiling windows flank the east and west sides to allow as much light in as possible. There are others here, a few mortals curled in overstuffed armchairs, books and cappuccinos in hand, light jazz soothing the atmosphere through a few hidden speakers. Healthy clematis blooms along the stair rail, purple blossoms disappearing into the second floor, where more reading rooms wait, books and plants boundless inside Hebe’s.
A place for everyone. 
You feed the clematis a little spark of magic, enough that the vine stretches, shivering and sprouting more flowers. “Aren’t you stunning this morning?” The plant curls around your fingers eagerly, imbued with the essence of power, drinking up the magic drops you encourage into its cell structure. “So healthy and strong, you’ve recovered so well.”
“Good morning.” A wraith of a voice whispers, and you catch the iridescent flicker of a cloud, of Nephele. The clematis will need pruning soon, probably next week, or maybe you can make time in the next few days, you don’t really have too much going on, just your birthday, and that delivery to Hera- 
Ghostly fingers stroke the inside of your elbow, and the cloud nymph regards you with an insightful expression. “Earth to Seph.”
“Sorry.” Your apology is meek, and she shrugs.
“I asked what you’re doing tonight?” Oh.
“Dinner… with my mom.” She nods, and says nothing, jaw clenching, apologetic grimace lining her lips.
“And Friday… Aselgeia?” The club. Your muscles tighten. It’s been over a year since you’ve been to Aselgeia, the club of many vices, the ones where mortals and creatures and gods all mix interchangeably, chasing their own pleasure. The memory of last time heats your spine: A private room. A black chair. A stranger swinging a paddle towards your bare-
Nephele coughs.  
“Yeah, definitely.” You put the box down that you’re carrying, twelve small pots containing strings of pearls, all crossbred to produce different colors, emboldened by their proximity to you in the Greenhouse for these past few months. They’ll sell well, you have no doubt. “I’ve got a few more boxes to bring inside. Don’t supposed you could do something about this slag weather we’re having?” You gesture, and she snorts.
“Hebe says they’re fighting. Probably looking at weeks of storms.”
“They’re always fighting.” You whisper it, even though most know the truth. Zeus and Hera were explosive. Tumultuous. Which is fine, you suppose, for a private life. A public life, however, one that belongs to the Golden King and Queen, should probably be a bit more… restrained.
After all, why should you and everyone else have to suffer because Hebe’s mom and dad can’t get along? 
“I’ve got a lot of cataloging to do, so I’ll catch you around. Text me after dinner tonight, if you need to talk.” She finishes quietly, kindly, but without encroaching, and you squeeze her hand with affection.
“Thanks, Nell.”
The final two boxes stack comfortably for your dash inside. You're eager to get all the plants settled so you can get back to the Greenhouse, slink away to your personal temple, your place of refuge, somewhere quiet to prepare for your dreaded birthday dinner in peace.
“Hello.” A male voice calls, accented so strangely it’s impossible to place. He waves, trying to flag you down.
“Hello?” You turn, nearly stumbling back at the sight of him.
Who is this? 
He’s stunning. Brilliant blue eyes study you from a mountaintop, taller than you by more than a head or two. His hair is short on the sides, but long in the middle, a fashion of mohawk you’re unfamiliar with except for in Hoplites, warriors who sacrifice themselves for the sanctity of the state. He’s broad, built like there’s a Herculean amount of muscle underneath his immaculately tailored midnight black suit, and his cheekbones complement the razor edge of his jaw, framing a full set of dark, plush lips.
He looks like a dream you’ve never had. A fantasy that failed fruition.
Fairer than Adonis. Brighter than Apollo. 
Butterflies kick up a fluttering frenzied in your belly.  
“Sorry to bother ye, I’m looking for Hebe’s?” Ah. You smile.
“You’ve found it. This is just the backside. Front door is around the walk to the left.” He steps closer, and you’re about to introduce yourself when you hear the whinny of a screech owl’s tremolo, a tinned melody that whistles past your ears.
Olympus tilts. Axis trembles. And so do you.
The stranger is keen, and glances around. 
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I um… it’s just that owl, I swear I saw the same one a few days ago… I didn’t think they were too common around here.”
“Dinnae think they are.” His eyes twinkle, celestial light that has you drifting, floating through time and space into starlit irises. The air turns heavy, hot- fresh fired bricks weighing down your chest, and everything spins, day turning to night, night molting black, deep hues of purple and blues streaking past your vision, spinning like moon, twisting you up until your balance is faltering, and you sway. “Whoa, hey.” Fingers fold over your arm, surprisingly cool, chilled, and it pulls you back into your body, spine uncurling, brow smoothing.
“Sorry, I…”
“Ye alright?” He’s still holding your arm, directing you to a bench, relieving you of your box in a swift motion.
“Yeah, sorry… I… I skipped breakfast.” There’s no other explanation, right? The handsome stranger tsks.
“Can I get ye somethin’? Maybe from inside?”
“No!” You blurt, horrified. Hebe would have a cow if she thought you were feeling faint or had skipped a meal. She takes caring for her loved ones far too seriously. “No, I’m almost done, and then I’ll be on my way home. I’ll eat there.” He raises an eyebrow, completely skeptical. “I swear.”
“Alright then. Let me help ye with the rest at least?” He’s standing with a hand extended, and you track the veins on the inside of his wrist until they disappear beneath his t-shirt, golden, tawny skin just barely allowing them to be seen. You wonder if it’s mortal blood that catapults through his body, or the rich, golden ichor that also spills from yours.
“Sure.” He lifts the box, gesturing for you to grab the other.
 “I’m John, by the way.” John. It simmers in the front of your mind, stitching itself into the fabric of your magic.
“Persephone. My friends call me Seph.” Bold. Too bold. 
“Ye’re Demeter’s daughter.” He comments, and you blink, fresh wave of regret curdling the sourness of your stomach.
“Yes.” Fool. Give your name to a stranger, and this is what will come. “Do you know-“
“Only in passing, dinnae worry.”
“Who said I was worried?”
“Ye wear yer emotions plainly.” Your cheeks burn, embarrassed at the blatancy of his statement. “It’s refreshing. So many of us, we play too many games, hide our true selves.” Us. Golden ones. Gods. 
“You’re Cloaking.” You intend it to be a statement, an observation, but with a tight jaw and frowning brow, it’s an accusation.
“Aye. Wouldnae want to scare ye away, would I?” What? Your steps slow, gait pausing in concern. “Sorry, ah. Bad joke.”
“Oh, that’s alright.” He carries the boxes to the door, setting them down carefully, and then rising back to his full height. You swallow the lump in the back of your throat.
“Well, John,” you say it with a hint of sarcasm, and it conveys your doubt. That’s not your real name, is it? “It was nice to meet you.” You extend your hand, expecting a shake, but he holds it with both of his, back bowing, lips softly pressing the skin of your knuckles, tender touch making your knees weak, your heart swooping and swooning.
“The pleasure was mine, Persephone.”
“Have you given anymore thought to your role in the coming year? Your presence at harvest, or planting, would do-”
“I haven’t.” The wine is too oaky, so earthy it takes like dirt, the opus of your mother’s existence, and you swallow it down in silence.
“Persephone.” She chides, like she has a million times before. “If you just tried, a little harder-“
“I am Spring, mother. Life. Rebirth. Fertility.” You ignore her wince. “But that doesn’t mean I’m well suited for crops, and grain, and harvests.”
“It means exactly that. Otherwise, the Greenhouse would not exist.” Her knife slices into a bloody piece of meat, red dripping down the sterling to her fingertips. “Why must you fight your destiny?” Your mind wanders to your visitors the other day, the sisters. The Moirai. Does she know? Is that why she’s saying this? Did she send them? “You spend so much time actively trying to deny me, holed up with your flowers and silly little house plants-“
“It is you who denied me.” Her eyes narrow. “You who didn’t want me to become a fertility goddess, who wanted me to be some weapon of green light, to be the spitting image of you. You raised me to be a threat!”
“Is it so wrong, that I did not wish for my daughter to become a common whore? That I had hoped to prevent her becoming such a failure? That I dreamed of her becoming so much more than… what sits before me now?” The words do not shock you anymore. You’ve grown to expect them.
That does not mean they do not sting.
“It is wrong that you kept me locked in this house, away from the world, until I was too strong for you to control.” You spit, fork clattering against your plate. Rage sears white at the edge of your vision, overflowing bouquet of flowers in the center of the table blooming into massive blossoms, edges of petals beginning to curl inward.
“Control yourself.” She warns. “Or I will do it for you.” Your pulse thunders. The air in the dining room crackles.
You do not relent. Rationally, you know you should. You know this will only end one way, that this will sever another tie to your past, to your mother, one you won’t be able to repair… but you can’t stop. The magic itches under your skin, screaming.
The ivy that covers the outside brick shatters a windowpane above her head, springing through the opening like a virus seeking a host, sticking to the inside wall. Glass falls to the floor, rain pelts the roof.  
“Persephone.” Shining silver spools, churning across the table, through the air until it takes form-
The Whip.
Your mother’s favorite.
It licks your skin, your fingertips, your knuckles. A different touch, from the reverent kiss you received only hours ago. It cracks through the air like the lightning.
“That’s enough.” She vows.  
You will not cry. You won’t. You won’t let her get to you like this anymore. You’re a woman now. An adult. You’re not a child, you’re not, you’re not- 
She sighs. Your fingers clench the stem of the wine glass so firmly you think it might shatter.  
You finish your meal in stiff silence. Its heaviness droops all around you, blanketing the entire table, your fork, the distance between you and your own mother. It’s an eon. A millisecond. Never enough because you always crave more. More space. More time. More distance. Her eyes spark, anger burning hot behind them, but she says nothing.
When she’s finished, she rises from the table without another word, disappearing down the hall.
Happy Birthday, you guess.
In the middle of the night, the Greenhouse is quiet.
Even the plants slumber, most of the daylight seekers, pistils, stamens, all covered by their petals, lying in wait. In the back, you pad along the floor of moss, allowing the tiny tendrils of green to skim along your bare skin, pulling opulent, indulgent specks of power into themselves. Wisteria lines the walls, tiny blooms of purple and white falling like curtains of stars, only parting for the archway that leads to the spring, a small freshwater lagoon that spills from the crust of the earth as hot as tea, bubbling eternally, waiting for you.
Tonight, the water is ethereal. Steam rises from the pool, slicking its stone home, and you bask in it, muscle and bone turning languid, supple in the roiling spring. It’s nearly sublime, almost perfect.
Your mother’s voice still echoes. Even now, hours later, you can hear her.
A failure. A disappointment. 
Your knuckles sting from the salt of the Whip, the silver crust that slices so effortlessly, just as it has since you were a child.
You cried a lot, then.
Now, it’s few and far between. You’ve grown, rebelled, retaliated. You’ve become a lost cause.
Ungovernable Persephone. 
The pain still sits so heavily in the bottom of your soul, a wretched, tangible thing that sprouts blackened vine from the earth and a whole manner of other things.
You eye the marble encasement, the walls that harbor the spring. They too, are black. Born from your rage, your sorrow. Your uncontrollable, ungovernable power that grew from the depths of your despair and built you a temple.
The Greenhouse. Your home.
Everyone called it a wonder. A feat, proof of your power. Trees and vines and branches all twisted together, building a harbor, solidifying your presence, your Golden light.
You took your first offering in this place, the glass for the windows and the roof, the final piece of your shelter from the storm, the first stake of your life as a goddess, your life of freedom.
You left your mother’s house that day, only returning now on occasions. You never looked back.
Though, you can still feel the Whip, can still hear it whirl through the wind against your supine form. Can still feel the ridges of scar tissue that never fully healed.
You could have called Nell. Or Hebe. Or Melia. Anyone of them would be here for you. Would listen. Understand. 
Outside the window, an owl hoots.
You sink beneath the water line, magma rushing over every inch of your body, washing you clean of her, of the Whip, of the wounds on your knuckles.
A trembling fawn. Still to this day. 
A wicked daughter to have, they tell her. A vengeful soul. Rotted to the core. 
Ungovernable Persephone. 
Olympus is buzzing, even on its ninth day of rain. It’s a vibration that all manner of beings can feel, creatures, gods, even humans. The ground rattles like there’s a lightning bolt shoved into the center of the rail system, electrifying the wires and tracks, zinging from pole to pole between the buildings and above the streets where cars putter alongside those who walk to their destinations.
When you were a child, the name of the city was almost dirty. It made your mother’s nose turn skyward, disgust and disdain clear as the day on her delicate features. “The golden city is anything but.” She promised, on her knees before you, gentle hand at your back. “Those who live there are heathens, and naught else. They would seek to destroy you if they knew the truth.”
For many, many years, you never step foot here.
Not until University. Once you graduated, the rope around your neck, the bit in your mouth began to loosen, and you had already lost your taste for the expanse of metropolis, more interested in your own space outside city limits where you could feel your connection to the earth, where you could indulge your power in privacy.
“It’s not the city she fears.” Melia told you one night. “But Aphrodite. Demeter’s worried ‘Di will knock you right off the whole bloody planet.” She peered over your shoulder, catching the gleam of Apollo, his bright eyes tracking her from across a crowded bar. “Trust me. She’s a jealous bitch.” 
Tonight, the city is waterlogged, soaked to the bone, raindrops splashing as you slide from the car to the black door tucked inside a black wall, a soft faced Harpy standing in front of the passage.
“Hebe. Persephone.” She greets, turning to your other companions. “Nephelle. Melia.” You pull your power through the earth that sits beneath cracked concrete and heavy asphalt, spinning your Cloak up and over your body, adjusting your appearance just so. Your mask slips into place, obscuring nearly all your face, both Nell and Melia pulling together something similar.
“Ocypete.” Hebe pauses. “Is there a riddle tonight?” The Harpy grins, flashing rows of too sharp teeth, fine points that can cut the flesh from bone in a clean bite.
“No riddle.” The door creaks wide, and she steps aside. “Enjoy your evening.”
You don’t notice the way her eyes linger after you’ve passed.
Aselegia is one of the safest places in the Olympus. Here, Golden ones must be Cloaked, mortals must be masked, and creatures must go to great lengths to hide their identity. All intermingle with one another, safe in the anonymity. Gods and Goddesses usually choose to mask as well, a practice, you believe, stemming from common occurrences of violent jealousy, an effort to prevent becoming the target of one’s wrath.
The club itself is big enough to get lost in. The first floor houses the lobby, and a set of elevators. The walls are covered in shiny waxed mahogany, red wine rich carpet covering the floor, and it smells different, sweet and smoky, cigars and finely spun sugar. Intoxicating.
The elevators will take you anywhere you have access, and most can visit three floors. There’s a dancefloor on the main level, with a giant bar, private rooms in the wings, bottle service, tables. Very standard. Other floors have gambling tables, quieter music, even a dimly lit pool and sauna.
It isn’t until you get above level three that things change. Endorsements or sponsors are required. Waivers need to be signed. Negotiations begin.
Pick your poison. 
You start on the main level tonight. Melia insists, and you agree, grateful to the Oceanid for suggesting starting slow, the low rumble of nerves still present in your magic, your body. The music thumps, high to low song and symphony synthesized into something electronic, and it draws you into a sway, shoulders against shoulders, hips moving in time with the melody.
“Shots?” Hebe brightens, waving over a cocktail waitress, a pretty thing who eagerly does her bidding, enraptured with the way she moves in the skintight, cornflower blue dress. Her Cloak has disguised her well enough that no one would know who she is, but she does not ever manipulate her body. A cherished rule of her own, you’ve learned.
“You’re beautiful.” The girl coos, and Hebe nods, singing over the explosion of Nephelle’s laughter.
“I know, sweetheart.”
A slick sheen of sweat coats the space between Melia’s breasts. You’re both on the dancefloor, moving with the music, Melia perfectly in time, like she was born to it, and you pull her close, slinging an arm over her neck to whisper in her ear.
“He’s here.” A god’s dark eyes glint in the night, between the passages of writing bodies. He wears a white mask, stitched with the threads of glowing sun, but his obsessive gaze gives him away. He’s transfixed, focused solely on the Oceanid in the middle of the dance floor, and she giggles, turning so that her ass is pressed against your pelvis, her head tipped back on your shoulder.
Her hand extends, an invitation. A request.
He’s by her side within a second.
“Apollo.” You nod, and he barely spares you a glance, too busy cradling his Oceanid’s face.
“You have been ignoring my calls.”
“I’ve been busy.” He tenses.
“You’re still angry with me.”
“Of course, I am.” She rolls her eyes. “We’re here for Sephy’s birthday, not this.” He peeks towards you, sliver of regret flashing across his face.
“I’m sorry, Persephone.” You wave him off, not wanting to be in the middle of… this.
“It’s fine, we’re just… out. It’s not for anything special.” You look away from them, casually glancing around. You look, but you do not see. Not until…
There’s a male, wearing a pitch-black suit. A god? A mortal? He’s taller than anyone else in the room, broadest shoulders and proud posture, everything about him drawing you in, like blood in the water.
The room stands still. Silent. Empty, save for two.
Tempered water like glass, undisturbed. An undertow vicious beneath the surface, unknown to all.
“Hello.” The pitch of his voice is familiar, almost dreamlike, something that’s never been real, yet startling all the same.
“H-hi.” You stammer. His hand reaches, a magnetic force pulling yours from where it’s clawed against your thigh, and he grasps it like he’s cupping a dahlia bloom, a fragile collection of so many petals that make up an entire beautiful blossom, a universe unto itself.
Black leather caresses your skin. Clear, golden-brown eyes pin you in place, anthracite spiking around his pupils in a halo. You cannot see his face, or his skin, only what’s barely visible of his eyelids and dark spun lashes.
Still… 
His beauty is terror. It’s the throat of a lamb, freshly cut. The mutilated carcass of a doe, feeding a forest. Dark. Dangerous. A wolf, circling a kill.
It drags you out into a river, where your feet no longer touch the bottom. It sings to you from the depths.
You cannot tear yourself away.
He does not let go. Even when that same voice fills your mind.
“My darling. You shall rule all that lives and moves, you shall have the greatest rights among the deathless gods: those who defraud you and do not appease your power with offerings, reverently performing rites and paying fit gifts, shall be punished for evermore.” *
Warmth slips from your hand, sand flitting through your fingers, a fleeting touch of comfort and confusion fading into the night.
My darling. 
My darling… 
When the light comes back to you, the male is nowhere to be found. Only Apollo and Melia stand to your side, still in their own world.
“Will you let me take you upstairs then?” He croons, and your heart dances, nerves and anticipation all spiraling together like a sailor’s knot. You know what comes next.
“Only if the girls can come.”
You try to forget the strange encounter on the main level and focus on your needs instead; you’ll know what you’re looking for when you see it, and you say the same to Hebe, too, when she disappears with a male who seemed much too large to not be the son of a giant, leaving you alone on a small, velvet couch, Nell and Melia already long gone. Your second martini sits untouched, and you keep yourself from looking at any one being too closely, lest you get caught staring.
That’s when you see him.
Light blue eyes. Handsomely styled mohawk. Even with a Cloak and mask, he’s hard to forget.
John.
His mask is a red skull, covering nearly all his face, the sculpted brow severe, almost angry.
His eyes glow behind it, locked on yours.
Oh. Shit. You vibrate like a live wire, hanging onto yourself for dear life.
“Hello.” Your mouth doesn’t work. “I’m Soap.” He extends his hand, and you blink. Oh, right. The alias. Because what is the point in all this, if you give your real name?
“K-kore.” You manage to stammer, and the corner of his eyes crease.
“Why are ye here?”
“I’m sorry?”
“What are ye looking for, little goddess?” He still has not dropped your gaze, and you can almost taste him on your tongue, feel him in your mind, your body.
Myself.
Your teeth dig downward, pressing hard before you whisper the truth.
“Pain.” His eyes flash, and then he tugs.
John- Soap, takes you to a private room. You follow, numbly, shivering with a million emotions, stumbling through the chances, the possibilities of seeing him twice, when before he was a stranger.
A coincidence, you decide, putting it out of your mind. You’re dwelling on it too much, picking it apart, riling yourself up… over nothing. Over a handsome god, existing in the Golden city? Like you’ve never seen those before… like it’s so unbelievable.  
“Are ye alright?” He murmurs, stepping up to your back. You can feel the heat of him, his warmth bleeding from beneath the suit to your exposed skin, the dress you chose wholly exposing your spine, your skin.
Your nipples tighten. Your heart races, and your thighs press together inadvertently.
“Yes.”
“Dinnae lie.” He’s gentle in the reminder, and you fill your lungs.
“I’m just… nervous.”
“Ye’ve done this before?” He’s assuming. You nod, quickly, and he motions to a very comfortable looking lounge chair, where you perch on the edge of the cushion. “What would make ye happy tonight?” Anxiety unsettles your posture, and you choke down the embarrassment that tries to claw its way up your throat.
“A… a spanking.” You whisper, pushing flimsy confidence forward. Far away, a piece of your mind, your magic, pleads. It cries, it begs for release. It urges you forward, and you lift your face to his, seeking approval. Comfort.
Reassurance.
The cold hand of doubt rears. It snickers at you. It laughs.
Reassurance from someone, anyone but yourself? Comfort? 
No. 
“Do ye-“
“My safe word is flower.” You spit, motioning to the stool that waits between you.
It’s an act. A song and a dance, something fake and forced. But he doesn’t know that.
He freezes. Thick tension runs the gamut, heavy and exhausting, and you smother yourself, your emotions, your reactions to this very moment.
Pain. The desire burns. It pushes you to the zenith, until you’re down on your knees, folding yourself forward.
Pain, to turn it off. Pain, to make it all stop.
Pain, to release you into yourself. 
What matter of creature are you, that you can only feel whole, when parts of you are carved away? 
“Up.” John commands, and you lean back, confused. “Ye’ll do this over my knee.” He bends you, with grace, back towards the soft cushion, laying comfortably, your palms flat.
A hand coasts over the swell of your ass.
“Ye’ll count.” His voice has shifted. Gone is the feather’s edge, now replaced by steel. His accent still rings true, but there’s a firmness to it, a finality. Dominance.
“Yes.”
“Ye’ll tell me yer name, and today’s date, when asked. If ye cannae answer, we’ll stop. Immediately.”
“Okay.”
“I need a yes.”
“Yes.”
“We’ll go to ten, then.” We.
“I can take more.”
“We’ll decide what ye can take, when we get there.” You acquiesce, fingers digging down into the cushion before forcibly relaxing. “Big breath.” He coaches, and then-
The first slap stuns you. Only with his hand, and yet still so much stronger than last time with a paddle. It punches air from your lungs, the noise that rockets out of your throat a mix between a scream and a moan.
“F-fuck.” You croak. “One.” He doesn’t hesitate and rains the next one down on your opposite cheek. Again, it robs you of oxygen. “Two.”
“Good girl.” The praise is very small flame at the bottom of the darkest well. It barely lights the path ahead, desperately trying to catch, to grow, but it’s too easily snuffed out. His palm rubs the base of your spine to the tops of your thighs.
Crack. 
The sting sizzles outward from impact, and you gasp. “Three-“ Another, same cheek. “Four!” The whistle of the swing alerts you a second before the next, and when you shout “Five!” it sounds off kilter.
“What’s yer name?”
“Seph-Persephone.” Raw warmth simmers beneath your dress and underwear, and the fire at the bottom of the well starts to rage, growing larger, eating what it’s been given, hungry, seeking, trying to build momentum. He asks you the date, satisfied at the lack of delay, and swings so high, you can see the shine of his palm from the corner of his eye. Your toes curl.
Whack. Two, too quickly.
“Six!” A choked cry. “Seven.” Your face is wet, saltwater tracing the plush swell towards your mouth and chin. You sniffle.
“I know, I know. Ye poor thing.” He bunches the fabric of your dress, scratching it across your scorched cheeks. “Ye’re doin’ so well, almost there.” The words barely register, only the sentiment cuts through the haze. Your thighs are pressed so tightly together, slick dripping from your cunt, the aching throb of your clit rubbing against your panties. You’re desperate… to be touched, to be hurt, to be whole. You need it. Crave it more than anything else.
He delivers two more strong, healthy, swift blows. Eight. Nine. They enflame you completely, fire burning in the pit of your soul, encasing you in a coffin where no one can hear you, or see you. Safe and tucked away, floating into a dark cocoon of eternal night.
At the tenth, the room changes. The air grows colder, nearly frigid, shadows clinging to the walls, and you barely register being moved, held like a child, tucked into a chest. There’s talking, somewhere, in your mind or maybe behind you, two pitches at war, a dance of wills.
“Beautifully done, darling.” Somewhere far, far away, in the last sliver of your sane mind, you realize it’s a different voice, a voice echoed in gemstones, ruby and emerald and pearl, before that too, slips into space, and you drift deeper inside the luxurious praise. A warm bath. A sunlit meadow with thousands of Narcissus dotting the hill, soaking up every ray. A golden fawn, taking her first steps to freedom.
John’s face looms into your line of sight, maskless, no Cloak.
“We need a yes.” He murmurs, cupping your cheek. “Persephone.”
“Hmmm?”
“Need ye to say yes, so we can take ye home, take care of ye.” The words don’t match. They don’t click, they catch, they bump against each other, trying to lock into place, failing over and over.
“Supposed to go… home with my friends but-“ Your tongue is heavy, weighted beneath a giant sequoia, and you shiver. The chest that your head bobbles on catches, an arm securing you in place. It’s warm, and firm, heavier than a tree. Who…
“Little goddess.” He prompts, and you sigh, already wistfully unaware.
“’kay, yeah. Yes.”
You’re already slipping away when the world goes dark.
Your eyes open to a strange place.
You don’t recognize any of it, from the massive four poster bed with lithe, gauzy curtains drawn closed on three sides, to a fireplace the size of a giant, roaring, sizzling flame burning endlessly in its hearth. You don’t recognize the room, the black marble floors, polished to a brilliant gleam, one that you can nearly see your reflection in, or the vanity, dark oak housing a hand carved mirror. You’ve never seen the ornate stained glass window before, stretching from floor to ceiling, the size of ten men. You don’t know the bed, sized for a king, emerald silk sheets and a matching duvet, with a million pillows that were just cradling your head. The robe you’re wearing matches, the green only a shade lighter, and you tuck it tight across your body, realizing you’re fully nude.
The fire pops. It pushes a gasp from you, caught off guard, and at the sound, another being in the room stirs from the plush rug just beneath the bed.
A three headed dog.
It, they, stare at you, tongues wagging, eyes wide. Jet black fur, darker than midnight, white teeth so sharp they could rip your throat free in an instant.
You’ve seen this dog before… in pictures. Schoolbooks. You know their name.
Cerberus.
Panic races through your veins, ratcheting your heart rate higher and higher, your body and mind separating, all synapses dizzy with fear.
Oh gods. Where… where are you? What happened? You were just… you were just having some fun, at Aselegia, with John… weren’t you? Where…
Are you dead?  
You reach for your power, digging deep, trying to drag as much as you could to the surface-
Nothing.
You bleat, a scared lamb, in panic. It’s a cry. A scream. An awful sound. You need your rage now, but all you find is fear. You cannot reach your power. There is a blackened lock around it, a casing that holds it away from you, out of reach.
Cerberus whines. They hold their position, tail swishing back and forth, and you scramble towards the middle of the bed. Your ass protests, skin warm and tender against silk. Your knees tuck to your chest, and you force your eyes closed, trying to take long, measured breaths without success.
You’re dead, you’re dead, you’re-
The door clicks. John appears, two palms out, hesitant, and cautious. Your voice shakes, no matter how hard you try to reinforce it with iron will. “G-get away from me.”
“Ye’re alright, Persephone. We’d never hurt ye.” We?
“We need a yes.”
“Need ye to say yes, so we can take ye home, take care of ye.”
Something flickers behind him. A figure, a shape of shadow, shifting.
Dark. Dangerous. A wolf, circling a kill.
The male from the dance floor. He wears no mask now, but the feel of him, the threat of his power, is unmistakable… and familiar. You sputter on it, choking on him and John, the threat of their power combined looming, suffocating. “Oh gods.” You clutch the robe tighter. “Wh-where am I?”
“You know where you are, darling.” The other one says, and you moan.
“N-no. I… I can’t be. I can’t dead. I can’t be here… I-“
“You’re not dead, Persephone.” He cautions. “You’re very much alive.” And shaking, alive and trembling so vigorously you can hear your teeth chattering, chest heaving up and down, desperately trying to suck air inward. Cerberus whines again, and he rubs a thumb behind one of their ears. “Easy, Cerberus. She’s alright.”
“I ca-can’t be here. I have to… I have to go home.” The room seems wet, dollops of tears falling from your lashes, sticking to your skin and the sheets. Reality slams forward, rushing right up against your nonsensical mind.
It takes one gentle pulse of their power, to realize the truth. 
Hades. They’re… Hades. They’re Hades and you’re… you’re in the Underworld. 
Beg. Beg them for mercy. Whatever it is you’ve done, you must try. 
“I’m s-sorry. I don’t know… I don’t know what I did but I swear, I’m sorry, I-“ John tries to reach, seeking your hand, but you curl up into a tighter ball.
“Shhh. Ye hae nae done anythin’ wrong, sweet Persephone. Ye’re alright. Ye’re safe.” Safe? Safe in the Underworld? With them? 
Oh gods. You let Hades spank you. 
“You… you tricked me.” You whisper, raw betrayal and pain weeping profoundly in your heart. You trusted him and…
You are a fool. 
“We did what was necessary.” The wolf-like one says solemnly, gaze heavy.
“Necessary?” You squeak. “What’s… necessary about this?”
“We will explain everything, after we’ve eaten. Or maybe had some more rest? It’s the middle of the night, for you.” What? 
“No… I can’t… I can’t stay here. I have to-“
“Go home? So, you can hide away in your temple, kept company only by your plants and the occasional friend you let inside?” You blink, stunned, mouth dropping open.
“How do you... have you been watching me?” The stained-glass window on the far side of the room shifts, drawing your attention, morphing slowly from a tawny blur to a… screech owl.
“Oh, my gods. Oh…” The room shudders. “You can’t keep me here, I have to go…” Wolves circle, flanking where you sit, precarious and hopeless, a hand in front of your body like it will save you. “Please.”
“It’s alright, darling.” The dark one moves, blurred in shadow, magic blanketing you in a warm, comforting hold, heating your bones, encouraging your eyes to slowly shut.
The last thing you see is the ceiling, your body cradled in the embrace of a stranger.
Morning comes slow.
At first, you don’t open your eyes, even though you’ve been long awake.
If you open them, your fear will be real. It will be valid.
So, you keep them closed. Keep them shut long enough you drift in and out of twilight, until someone clears their throat.
Fuck. 
“Are you going to open your eyes?” His voice is ruby and velvet. You shudder.
“Hades.”
“Technically. One half of a whole, but my loved ones call me Simon.” Your brow flexes at that, and there’s a soft chuckle in response. “Will you wake? It’s well past morning now.”
“Are you going to render me unconscious again?” you hiss, cracking an eyelid. He’s sitting in a posh armchair, oiled black leather beneath his black suit, eyes steady on yours. His face is a map of scars, but instead of seeming rough, or out of place, they naturally suit him, complementing his broad jaw, severe expression, perfectly sculpted bone structure. His nose is crooked, like it had been smashed and rearranged once or twice, but still sits as if it was meant to be, and you wonder how anyone could do anything of the like to Hades.
He's handsome, in a way you expect to die from. 
“Only if you cannot behave.”
“Perhaps I could show you how I behave.” You smile with a full set of teeth, words ending in a snarl, and he huffs another gentle laugh.
“I have seen the victims of your wrath, Persephone. I have no doubt you’d strike me down if you could.” You swallow the nausea in your stomach. Your magic. 
“I want my magic back.” You blurt the demand, not even pausing to consider a more tactful way.
“We did not take it, only… bound it, for the time being. It’s still within you, we would never separate you from your power.” He sighs, a golden pearl rocking in his palm, glinting in the fireplace’s gleam. “Contrary to popular belief, we are not a monster.”
“Then let me go home, if you’re not as they say you are.” His eyes harden, face twisting sour, and then… sad.
“I’ll give you some privacy. There are clothes in the closet. Johnny and I expect you for breakfast, and then a tour… if you’re good. Cerberus will show you the way when you’re ready.”
If you’re good.
Cerberus leads you through a maze of decadent marble and arches.
You follow behind them hesitantly, cautious, and they mind you, slowing when you’ve lagged too far behind.
You can’t help it. You’re mystified.
You expected the Underworld to be dark, and dingy. And while maybe it is on the dark side, with glossy, polished marble, giant onyx columns that blot of the sky, and black stone everywhere… when you peek out the windows, you’re gob smacked.
Beneath wherever you are, which you’re beginning to suspect is Hades’ palace, is lush greenery. A verdant, fertile field lays to the south and the east, wrapping around to the edge of a forest, where you can just barely make out a large variety of deciduous trees. To the North, a river winds, separating the palace from a large meadow and… a town? You shake your head, as if to clear your addled mind and cloudy vision. Is that truly… a town? 
“Asphodel Meadows.” Someone says from behind you, nearly jumping you from your skin.
“Fuck.” You gasp, hand clutching your chest. It’s a man, not John, or Simon, but a stranger, clad in all black.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“It’s… okay. I- what did you say?”
“The town. It’s Asphodel Meadows. A place for mortal’s souls.” He bows. “I’m Thanatos.”
“I’m… Persephone.” He smiles, just slightly.
“I know who you are, my lady.” My lady?
“What do you…” words nearly fail as you grapple. “What do you do here?”
“I am a child of Nyx. The god of Death.”
“I thought Hades…”
“They are the Kings of the Underworld. I am the personification, the embodiment of Death.” Oh.
“You reap.” You whisper. His jaw tightens, and then smooths.
“Your escort is impatient. I think he’s probably ready for his bacon.” He eyes Cerberus, who whines, tapdancing on slick marble.
“Bacon?”
“Yes. He’s very spoiled. Eats better than the Kings themselves.” He motions down the hall. “It’s just that way. Lovely to meet you, my lady.” He gives you another bow, and then turns down a corridor, one that had not been there before, leaving you and Cerberus alone in the empty hall.
“I- you too.”
The Kings, as Thanatos called them, are both seated when you push the incredibly heavy door open. At the sound, John rises, Simon behind him, and the three of you stare at one another for a minute, until Cerberus barks.
“Please, sit.” John motions to the only other place set, a third chair between them. You swallow.
“Uh…”
“We don’t bite.”
“Not unless ye want us to.” John smiles, sinfully handsome in the morning light. It streams into the surprisingly cozy dining room through a group of five windows, all facing east, capturing the light of… a sun?
“Is that a sun?”
“It’s a sun of sorts.” Simon offers. “We have a sky, weather. A sun, a moon. Clouds. Everything that exists in Olympus.”
“Are ye hungry?” You hesitantly lower yourself into the chair, surprised at the array of food displayed. “We ah, weren’t sure what ye liked so, got a bit of everything.” Meats, yogurts, sweets, cereal, fruit, anything you could want laid out in front of you, but it’s something so near to your heart that catches your eye. Portokalopita.
“They are Hebe’s.” Simon murmurs.
This is a trick. They kidnapped you. They’re holding you hostage. You have to convince them to let you go. The warning resounds, and your stomach thrashes.
“I want to go home.” You push the plate of orange cakes away, disappointment flickering across John’s face, exasperation on Simon’s. “Please. I… I appreciate your hospitality and you… you bringing me home for… aftercare,” you grit the word, shame rocketing up your spine. This is what happens when you trust. You let Hades spank you, for fucks sake. And then they abducted you. “but I need to go home. The plants, they need me. My friends-“
“Your friends are used to going days on end without contact from you.” Simon cuts you off, and the blood drains from your face. “Are they not?”
“N-no. They’ll know I’m missing, they will.” Lie. He knows. You know they both know, just by the way the regard you. Half pity. Half amusement. It makes your blood boil. “Fuck you.” You hiss, shooting up in the chair.
“Seph-“ John tries to soothe you, calm you, using your nickname like he knows you, and it only makes you more irate.
“Don’t call me that.” You whirl on him. “I trusted you! I don’t even know you and I let you-“
“That is the nature of Aselegia, is it not?” He counters, cutting you off. You gape like a fish. “The anonymity. Dinnae turn it on me now.” His tone melts from ice to warmth, sympathy bleeding from his irises. “I assure ye, we are more than trustworthy. We would never, ever hurt ye. We would never let anythin’ happen to ye. Ye’ll see.”
“Then let me go home.” He shakes his head sadly but says nothing, and rage snaps in your heart like the drawback of a rubber band, stinging and sharp. “What do you want from me?” John opens his mouth, and then abruptly closing it, deferring to Simon.
“You are our guest. We’d like to get to know you. I promise, just as before, you will not be harmed in our care. We will never hurt you."
"How do I know that?" You’re incredulous. “You expect me to take you at your word?”
“Let us strike a deal then.” He declares, and John nods supportively.
Don’t, your good sense screams. Don’t be an idiot.
“What kind of deal?”
“You will stay here for two days, forty-eight hours exactly. We will show you this realm and get to know one another in that time, and at the end, we will reveal the doorway that leads back to Olympus.” You raise an eyebrow.
“Two days? And then I can go home?”
“Two days.” John echoes. Sapphire eyes gleam, and you carefully, quickly, try to pick apart every word in the proposal.
“My magic.” You demand, and they both answer immediately with a resounding,
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Your power is wild, Persephone.” Simon tells you, not unkindly. “We do not know how the Underworld will react to it, and we must think of our residents, all the souls we care for here. We cannot let something upset the balance that is so delicate.” Your mouth goes a little dry. You were expecting more of an answer about control, domineering you, your magic, keeping you contained. Not… care for souls.
“Yer mother raised ye to be her weapon.” John says softly, kneeling before the chair where you sit. His hand rests on the cushion, and you wonder if he means to touch you. “We dinnae regard ye as such, but until we understand ye better, we need to protect-“
“I understand.” You cut him off. You don’t need some forced sympathy, pity, thrust upon you by Hades, of all gods. They exchange a long glance, one that gives you a small peek into their lives, layers on layers of words and sentiment, communicated with a single glance.
Simon reaches for John, pulling him to his feet and into his body, chest to back.
“Do you agree?” Two days. Two days and you can leave. You can do two days of anything. You certainly cannot fight them, or your way out. What choice do you have? 
“Sure.”
“We need a yes, darling.” Darling. The pet name makes your toes curl. You take a big breath.
“Yes.”
The valley outside of Asphodel Meadows is one of the most stunning places you’ve ever been. It’s lush and lively, covered in Narcissus and Asphodelus, like a meadow one could only dream of. You're not sure why it feels so familiar, like the cusp of another life, or a nightmare, but it takes root inside you. You lay in the field of flowers, letting them cover your body, wishing so desperately to touch your magic, so you could truly feel them, the grass and the dirt and the stems here, all things that seem like they’re so full of life, so opposite your expectations of the Underworld.
“Shall we continue?” Cerberus perks up at the sound of their master’s voice, head popping over the flowers to spot both Kings standing on the path, a good distance away. They peek at you, heads tilted, and you sigh. It seems you’ve been assigned a minder, in the form of a three headed dog.
You join them on the road before long, walking silently, sullenly, John sneaking glances at you nearly every chance he gets, and you can pinpoint the heat of his gaze every time, the throbbing intensity of his focused power nearly bowling you over.
“So, there are two of you?” What are you supposed to talk to the Kings of the Underworld about, anyway? 
“Aye. It’s a little-known secret. One realm, two gods to rule.” You frown, perplexed.
“But… you haven’t always been that way?”
“No.” Simon answers. “We were once Golden brothers in battle, long before your time, before becoming this. When we fell in love, our souls split. They merged with our magic, tied us together eternally. Now, we rule as one.”
“So, you’re married.” You deduce.
“In the most permanent way you can think of.” They stop short of a bridge, one that crests high over a roaring river, and Simon gestures broadly. “Persephone, this is the Acheron.”
The Underworld is a place of rivers, you learn. Waterways that hold power, that possess the ability to cleanse you, free you, burn you, punish you. There is a river of fire, a river of weeping, a river to forget.
The Acheron is the river of woe.
Fitting, you think, standing on the bridge. Below, bright turquoise water rushes by, crashing into rock and boulder, each sound more akin to a scream than the thunder of a tributary. Mouths, long and full of despair, wail beneath the current, wraith like creatures with bone white skin and eyes skimming along the top.
You get lost in them. Lost in the irreversible cycle of woe, desolation creeping up inside your own self as you peer down into the depths. Are you not like them? Despondent. Bleak. Isolated. Is that not what you’ve made with your life, what was chosen for you? Hidden away, sharpened like an axe never to be used. Are you not alone, like them? Trapped, like them? 
You don’t even realize you’re leaning forward until pressure rests at your back. “Easy. Dinnae want ye fallin’ in.” John murmurs, stepping away the edge, bringing you with him. Your limbs feel shaky, and you wonder if it’s because you just almost went over… or because you didn’t eat earlier.
“Sorry. I uh-“ you don’t know how to explain it, that feeling. The agony that bubbles up in the back of your throat.
“We know.” Simon regards you with empathy, understanding, and you shake the attention loose, pushing ahead of them, down the bridge and into town, into Asphodel Meadows itself, eager to leave the river and its woe behind.
In town, the Kings are well received. It surprises you, to watch them in the street, welcomed by the souls who live there. They take you on a tour, introducing you to residents, explaining the structure, the magic and the infrastructure that makes it all work. Souls take their preferred form in Asphodel Meadows, allowed to choose for themselves, whatever they feel most comfortable in, and you’re shocked that such benevolence would be bestowed upon anyone in the Underworld.
Why are they showing you this? Why go to such great lengths? What is the purpose? 
“Hi.” A small voice breaks you from your confusion, and you find a small girl at your feet, bouquet of Narcissus clutched in her tiny hands. You crouch.
“Hello.”
“I’m Phoebe.” She giggles, cheeks round and rosy.
“I’m Persephone.” You incline your head. “Phoebe is a beautiful name.” Your heart pangs. She’s so small, so… fragile. How did she die? Where is her family? Is she here alone?
“Thank you, my lady.” She tries to bow, and you rush to stop her, stilling her with a hand.
“Are those for me?”
“They are. Johnny said they’re your favorites.” Johnny? You glance over to where they stand, both turned your way, something unreadable in their reflections.
“Well, thank you. They’re lovely.” She wishes you well, skipping off in another direction, and you meander across the street, unable to hide your quizzical expression.
“Johnny? Not Hades?”
“Ach. The kids they’re… they’re usually a wee bit scared, first thing. It’s better for them, if we’re friends.” He shrugs, but Simon watches him in reverence, pure love and light beaming from his gaze, adoration in every slow blink.
Your heart skips.  
Fuck. 
“Are you not hungry?” Simon muses, walking beside you and John in the castle. Your shoes tap along the way, echoing, and Cerberus barks. John glares at them.
“I… I am afraid to eat here.” They both stop short.
“Why?”
“I have always heard… a myth. That if you somehow find yourself here and you eat, you’ll become trapped, stuck here forever.” Simon chuckles, dry and warm.
“No, darling. Please, we do not wish for you to starve.”
“The legend isnae true. Only by eating whole pomegranate seeds that ye pluck from the flesh of the fruit yerself, can ye become bound to the land. And we dinnae serve those.” He winks, stepping a little closer. “Ye can eat, little goddess. Please. Join us for dinner, we insist.”
“Okay.”
Simon is not at dinner.
John makes no mention of it, and only when you’re halfway done does he offer an explanation, something important that needed to be tended to.
“Ye look stunning.” He hums, and you have half the decency to smile. You chose a dress from the never-ending closet, black to match their suits, for fun. Its back is open, and the front offers a generous view of your breasts, but not quite enough.
You felt like sin. Johnny has been staring like you are. And maybe, you didn’t want sex, but you did want to punish them for their treachery. If only a little bit.
For making you a fool. 
“So, no Simon?” He swallows a mouthful of red wine.
“He apologizes. Somethin’ came up.”
“That’s alright.” You shift, legs crossing. The transition is unintentional, but it draws Johnny’s eyes to your knees, and up. You lift your glass, the largest goblet of red wine you’ve seen, and allow a small river of red to run from the corner of your mouth to your neck. It traces the valley between your breasts, and Johnny growls.
“Persephone.”
“What?” You ask, innocently.
“Ye’re playing with fire.” He grits, the gleam in his eyes one of a predator.
“I’m not playing with anything,” you hiss, slamming the glass down. It shatters, it sloshes, it spills onto the table and into your lap. “You’re the ones playing with me. Kidnapping me, holding me hostage.” Your anger builds, overflowing inside your soul, clawing at the locked box of your magic. Cerberus whines, galloping across the floor and out the main door, but you hardly notice, too focused on spitting as much fire and venom at your captor as you can. “Touring me around the Underworld, making yourselves look like some benevolent, beloved rulers when really all you are… are gods of death and decay.” John stares at you, wild eyed. Your chair clatters to the ground as you stand, fury rocketing through every vein in your body, ichor pulsing beneath your skin. You’re so, so close to your power; you can taste it. Can feel the way it screams, how it howls to you, churning in the depths of your being, rattling the cage it’s trapped inside.
Trapped. You’re trapped. Like always. 
Your vision blurs, and you take a step towards John. It all happens so fast, so lightning quick that it doesn’t even register until your hand is swinging through the air and across his face.
He does nothing. You feel the rumble of his power, pushing and pulling at the seams of your very being, waiting to tear your apart, but he holds himself at bay.
Only watches you with cold, wrathful eyes.
The air chills.
“That’s enough.” Simon stands between your bodies. Power, so potent, so strong, wraps tight, shoving your wrists together, Golden cuffs immobilizing you, holding you still. “You want to be a disobedient little brat, is that it?”
“YOU STOLE ME!” You scream it, raw and agonized. It tries to burst through your skin. Tries to explode your vessels. Your very heart. Your chest heaves, eyes wide, and John flanks you, coming closer and closer until you can feel his heat against your side.
He’s hard.
“What did ye think ye were doin, sweet Persephone? Did ye really think you could strike me?”
You don’t have an answer. Words die on your tongue. Guilt burns. Did you want to hurt him? 
Did you?
The cuffs yank you forward. They singe your skin, dragging you to the table. “What’re you doing?” They drag you across the food until you're climbing on top, until your whole body is prone, feet dangling above the floor, bent at the waist.
“Is this what you wanted?” Simon mocks. Hands grip your hips, and your traitorous body clenches. “This what you need, little goddess? Need to be punished?” Your dress is shoved up around your waist, exposing your skin to the frigid air, and you force away a small moan. “You need your pain, darling?” Yes. Fingers pinch the back of your neck. “Answer me.”
“Yes.” You snap, darting daggers with your eyes over your shoulder. His answer is a chuckle.
“Turn your head.” He hisses, hand on the back of your skull. When you do, you come face to face with Johnny’s hips, the length of his cock freed from his suit pants and bobbing right in front of your mouth.
Oh, gods. 
He strokes it slowly, the pink- nearly red tip oozing pre-cum, long and thick in his fist, his size enough to make your thighs press together, cunt throbbing with delight. Traitor.
“Open, darling.” He smears it against your lips. You tuck them in tight, trying to keep them closed, and he looks over, to the god who stands at the curve of your ass.
Simon takes a handful each of your cheeks, spreading you wide. He kicks your feet too, knocking your legs into an A-frame, fully exposing your weeping cunt.
“She’s dripping.” He announces, a finger sliding through your folds, body jolting with his touch. He circles your clit, barely, not enough, and you whine indignantly. It’s enough to loosen your lips, enough for Johnny to grasp your jaw, shove the tip of his thumb between your teeth, and then pry you open.
Once he gets the tip of his cock against your tongue, it’s over. Salt and earth dab along your tastebuds, and you drool on the table, trying to breathe through his rhythm, trying to focus as Simon tucks a finger into your hole, slowly pumping in and out, occasionally pulling free to swirl it around your untouched rim.
One finger inside you is enough to burn, heat rising through your belly, walls clenching tight, and John groans, pressing into the back of your throat, cutting off your airway.
“So good, all day.” Simon grits, stroking your clit in tiny circles. “Sweet Persephone, and now,” he’s building you closer, so close to the precipice, to the top of the mountain where you’ll hope he’ll throw you off.
But it’s not enough. 
“I know darling, don’t worry. I’ll give you your pain.” He croons. John thrusts hard, drives into you vigorously, head thrown back. There’s a sheen of sweat on his neck, and you watch a slow rivulet dip beneath his collar. He’s so… they’re so…
A hand cracks across the tender skin of your ass, rippling out like a shockwave. You choke.
You clench. The tide rises.
“Fuck. There you go.” Light dances in front of your eyes, small pinpricks of stars, and you gurgle on the dick that shoves down your throat. Another strike, the same side, and you cry out, gasping for air. The tip of his finger gently pushes against your rim, and then it’s replaced with a mouth, a hot, intrepid tongue, swirling around as your hips buck and he plays with your clit.
You’re going to die. You’re going to explode. You need more. 
You try to tell him, try to choke it out around John’s shaft, but it’s like he knows, like he’s reading your mind, and he pulls away to dig his teeth into the plump swell of your ass, biting down so hard you think you’re bleeding.
No. You are. 
You scream.
Rivers of ichor paint your skin. The next spank comes directly over the puncture wounds, and instead of screaming in pain, you moan in pleasure, head held in Johnny’s hands, your face a tool for him to fuck, your pussy squeezing down around the single finger stroking in and out of your body. He swings again, and again, fire lighting behind your eyes, explosions going off one by one, your orgasm cresting, rising in the swell of an enormous wave, and just as you’re about to come, Simon plunges a finger deep into your ass, shoving you off the mountain.
To where they catch you below.
The rest is a blur. John finishes down your throat, salt and sweat and tears all mixing in your mouth, and he moans your name as he gives you a belly full of seed.
You’re limp, floating, drifting higher and farther than you ever have before, not in your body, not even in your own mind. Hardly cognizant when you’re picked up, tucked away in the shelter of a chest and carried down the hall. You close your eyes.
You come back a little bit when you’re placed in shallow hot water, a steaming, rocky pool, your face settled in Johnny’s neck. Cloth and deft fingers rub your shoulders, your waist, anywhere you might feel sore, even the bottoms of your feet.
All the while, they talk.
It starts simply, sweet words that fills you up until you can’t take anymore. “Did so well, darling. So good for us.” John murmurs in hushed tones as Simon shifts you, turning you on your belly to run the cloth between your legs and over your ass. It stings, and you hiss, but you’re soothed with an apology, gentle kisses down your spine, each one pressed with praise.
It’s not long before you’re tucked into bed, turned over on your side, some sort of magic and salve being applied to the bite in your skin. You’re gone now, barely aware, barely awake, but with it enough to catch the little bits here and there.
“-talk about it tomorrow.”
“If they’re from Demeter, I’ll-“ No. Not this. Anything but this. Distress catches in your chest, and fingers stroke your cheek.
“Shhh, sweet one. Rest now.” There’s a little touch of magic, a barely there pulse of power, and you let it take you into the soft comfort of sleep, bedded down like a fawn, cradled between two Kings.
*Hymn 2 to Demeter, line 347
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princeoftheeternalbog · 5 months
Text
OP characters reacting to you kissing them and running away (here's part 2) established relationship ish. Feel free to ask for other characters.
ALSO I've definitely seen another creator who did this idea with op characters but I can't remember who so if someone could tell me I would really love to credit them :(. I tried to make mine different but still it's the principal of it.
Slightly suggestive in some parts so mdni.
Luffy
Thinks its a new game like tag but with kisses and it ends up actually becoming one. You'll both wait for the other to become distracted and then you'll strike, planting a kiss and sprinting off around the ship or the island you're docked at. It's not hard to chase after each other because the trails of laughter are so easy to follow and it always ends up with one of you on the floor from a tackle or something similar.
Zoro
Gobsmacked. Genuinely his jaw drops especially if there's other people there and you get away so easily only because of how long it takes his brain to boot back online. Oh but he doesn't let it go. He waits until you're in a similar situation, either talking to someone or doing work and he sneaks up to pull you into a deep, intense kiss that leaves your knees weak. Like he fully puts the moves on you, hand on your lower back, other hand cradling your jaw, hes literally licking into your mouth and then he just disappears for the rest of the day. Asshole.
Sanji
You are not running away from this man. Not in a scary way but he can't do just one short kiss, as soon as you're leaning in his hands settle firm on your hips and that grip is not something you can wiggle out of. You can try to run away but he just laughs at you and pulls you closer to him, ofc he would let go if you actually wanted him to but he knows what you're trying to pull. Says something like "Oh? Trying to run darlin? How sweet." swoon- Just don't even bother, he will always try to win if your affection is involved.
Nami
Honestly thinks nothing of it. A lot of your affection is sweet but quick because yk pirate life. But if you look disappointed from her lack of reaction then she catches on quickly and starts playing along. So sweet even though she can be scary. Oh but don't try to run if she's initiating, like Sanji you aren't going to get out of her grip. If she wants to shower you with affection, she is going to thank you very much. If you do manage to slip away she's surprisingly quick and surprisingly stealthy. Like you'll think you got away and you walk into a room and she drops down from the ceiling like fucking batman.
(maybe not that dramatic but shes good)
Robin
She lets you run away but only because she knows she could summon a mouth to kiss you at any time and in any place so she's content knowing she always wins. Also thinks it's really cute when you try to rile her up like this, she just finds it so endearing and usually ends up playing into it anyways- "My, my, aren't you getting so bold my love". Sometimes will purposefully trip you up while you're doing these antics so you can't get away or so you're plan is ruined, absolutely pretends she has no idea what you're talking about.
Usopp
Highly likely he was doing something when it happened. Highly likely he dropped something onto his foot as a result. Yowls like an injured cat and then when his brain catches up it's like steam comes out of his ears. Stands there with his mouth open and pointing at you like you betrayed his entire family. Very funny and very cute. Also a possibility of him smacking you out of fearful instinct in which case he'd probably cry his eyes out and beg for forgiveness. Nami makes it worse by punching him in the face for hitting you. A mess all around if you get him at the wrong time so just be careful.
Ace
Immediately sprinting after you, it's actually a bit scary. But like hey he's not letting you get away with just one measly little peck on the cheek. Absolutely nobody on the crew helps you unless it would be funny, i.e. someone tripping Ace up so he faceplants. If it's near the beginning of your relationship then you likely go back out of concern which he takes as a chance to catch you, but if it's later then you already know this man's antics and you know he wouldn't be injured just from tripping so you use it as an opportunity to get away💪. You still have to kiss it better later though when hes whining to you about how cruel you are for leaving him in the dust(he would do the same).
Izou
Don't bother. As soon as you turn he snatches you by the back of your collar and pulls you onto his lap, proceeds to resume his conversation like nothing is wrong but his arms are firm around your waist and his cheeks and ears are a particularly pretty shade of red. Once his conversation is over and the other person has left, he turns his attention to you with a very pointed look. He's not actually irritated but if he enjoys watching you squirm that's his business. "If you wanted a kiss you should've just asked my love" and then he's practically devouring your mouth. Doesn't care about the other people in the vicinity. Doesn't care that he's smudging his lipstick. Just wants to fluster you more than you flustered him.
Marco
Do you even want to run away from this man lets be real- anyways.
If he's doing work then he just laughs and lets you get away with it, tallys it in his head for later, but if he's free and hes in a good mood then he absolutely plays into it. Will chase after you. Will cheat by using his powers. Its a bit scary but also very attractive, somehow ends with him pinning you in some way (☺️), looks very smug when he wins. Like you'll end up flat on your back, legs trapped under his and his hands restraining yours and he's just grinning- "Oh what a surprise. You were so easy to catch-yoi" Yeah yeah shut up. Absolutely asks what his reward is just to see your shocked face (absolutely asks again later when you two are alone).
Sabo
VILLAIN!!!!!! Sorry only way i can describe how devious and obsessed this man would be. Like Izou he tries to snatch you immediately but you planned for this so you manage to spring out of his grip in time. You falter a bit at his reaction then because he just blinks at you for a while. You start to feel a bit nervous and when he finally grins at you, you definitely feel nervous. "Playing like that are we honey? How about I give you a headstart then?" Evil. You know he's going to catch you. He knows he's going to catch you. He's just giving you false hope but yk hope is hope so you take the chance.
You don't get far. It's not even fair how quickly he catches up to you and gets you underneath him, it takes him barely any effort, not even a strand of hair is out of place. Spends the next 10 minutes kissing you on the floor of the hallway until Koala comes back and promptly drags him back into his office.
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