#burgundy sheets

[justanotherocblog]

BEHOLD MY GIRL

BURGUNDY

#my art #ocs #Burgundy #tavern of beasts #fantasy #oc #ref sheet #reference

[swasdoodles]

OC. A nervous and meek wreck with wings, Pomp Caprice is also a fresh new face on Bridleway. Inspired by her idol Candor Countershade, she took to the stage but remains unsure if it's the right place for her.

#mlp #original swastuff #ol platan ocs #might have gone a BIT too far making her seem nervous #flipped back and forth between this burgundy and a similar blue for her mane #pomp's the last design sheet for now (help i can't stop the OCs there's too many of them) but there will most probably be more at some poin

[windy-trickster]

I love making sprites so much sometimes. Decided to give my boy Orsaus some love since he's been a little forgotten on the page <3

#homestuck #hiveswap #fantroll #burgundy blood #lowblood #orsaus veladi #sprites #sprite sheet

[kosije]

sins in silk

c/w ★ ׂ duke!miguel ohara x princess!reader, they are from different kingdoms, mentioned age-gap, forbidden love aspect, pregnancy kink, mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual head, fingering, size kink, art cred: kammie_arts1903

"Princess, the Grand Duke is here. May I bring him in?"

"Show him to the study for now. Tell him I will be right out. Be sure to thank the Grand Duke for his patience."

"Yes, Princess."

"Oh, Will?"

"Yes, Princess?"

"After you inform the Duke, please excuse everyone to their chambers, yes?"

"But princess, you know if the king found out we had left your side, even with the Grand Duke we could lose our-"

"I will not let that happen. So please, Will, do this for me."

All though apprehensive, your servant bows and disappears from your room, in long strides to the Duke.

It's the 5th time this month he has come to the estate. Always with the intention to see the King and ruminate. And despite him being so much older than you, your father's closest friend and strongest connection to the 2099 kingdom, and is only to wed a woman from his territory, each time he has come has left you tangling a hand in your silk sheets, hushed cries of the Duke's name left to fall from your wet lips in a silent plea.

Every time he drops by unannounced, talks to your father, and leaves. Every time he has his salt and pepper sprinkled brown hair combed back away from his face, showing the wrinkles on his forehead. Every time his eyes have focused on you, running over you like the pretty oil portrait that hangs above the study's mantle as his jaw flexes brows furrow, something in you ignites and the yearning becomes almost palpable.

Never does he say more to you than a few words, only acknowledging you after with how his body tenses when you're around. He runs as cold as the marble under your feet as you move to your vanity to reapply your perfume and shift your dress to expose enough of your collarbone without looking intentional. You're buzzing at the thought of seeing him, taking the rollers out of your hair with bubbling anticipation. This is the first time he's come amidst nightfall and the first time you two will be alone. With your hands resting to your front, you walk to the study well aware of how low your neckline is dipping while high pillared walls with paintings of cherubs and past battles trail you illuminated by ivory candles.

When you push past tall burgundy doors, you're greeted by the sight of Grand Duke of 2099, Miguel O'hara, who's stretching his back with two large hands on his hips. The deep groan he lets out makes your skin flush, and when his cold gaze meets yours you almost shiver. His eyes drift from your face to just right where your dress exposes a bit of the fat on your breast, and you smile when you hear him suck in a breath.

"What do I owe the pleasure, Your Grace?" His eyes tear from your chest as he focuses on the crackling fireplace.

"Just here to see your father, is he near?" He asks, brown eyes fixing back onto yours. Your smile only widens.

"I'm afraid the King is away, but he should be returning soon, you are more than welcome to stay 'till his return."

"I shouldn't-"

"Humor me, Your Grace. After all, I am a bit lonely without my father to talk to." you say, batting your eyelashes at him bashfully.

Apprehension is so clear on his face, but still he nods, straightening his white button up and waiting for you to go on.

"Follow me," you say, walking back down the hall until you reach your room.

"Princessa, I will not go further, this is inappropriate. A young lady shouldn-"

"'M not as young as I was before. Surely you can agree, no?"

"Even so," He coughs. "That is not the point-"

"You should have no trouble entering. I have already given my permission."

He doesn't look convinced.

"Do you not trust me? Have I done wrong by you?"

"That is not it, Princessa-"

"Then please, my duke, time is slipping right past us." you whisper, slipping through the doors, intentionally brushing your hand across his thigh. You grin when you hear his shaky breath, and hear your door not only close, but lock.

"What is it that you have here that we couldn't be anywhere else for?"

"Are you putting on an act," you ask him, turning around to face him still at a distance. "Or are you truly this aloof, Your Grace?'

"I’m sorry?-"

"I have a confession," you say. walking closer and closer until his breath is caught in his throat, and your lips are just a nudge away from his.

"My father won't be returning anytime soon." And suddenly, it seems it has clicked in his head, as his eyes darken.

"This can not happen."

"You're right," your hand is pressed up against his chest.

"Someone could hear us," He whispers, making no effort to push you away.

"I've already dismissed everyone to their chambers."

"If your father ever found out there could be a war," he tries to argue, but his head is still dipping down, ghosting over your lips.

"We have all night to just the two of us."

And just a second after saying that, he kisses you. His lips are hot, hungry, and experienced in the way they move against yours, swallowing your every breath. His hands find your waist, but he hesitates and you can tell he hasn't given in completely. And something about that excites you.

You pull away from his lips, leaving him noticeably confused until your hand reaches down and palms his cock, happy at the way he's already hard.

"Do you know just how long I've been wanting this?" You ask shifting him around you.

He doesn't say anything, only shakes his head "No."

"Ever since the day you came back to visit, I haven't been able to think of anything else." When you push him down on the edge of your bed, he shivers when you drop to your knees and play with the button on his slacks.

"Every night, I touch myself on these sheets to the thought of you." You confess, finally free him from his pants, leaving him in the thin fabric of his underwear, painfully soaking up the front of them with his pre.

"Princessa," He finally says in almost a whine. "If you say things like that I'm afraid I won't be able to hold back."

And dipping your hand under his waistband to grip his cock, you savor how thick and heavy he feels and the groan he lets out with a kiss to his base. You can't deny the bit of worry that flushes through you when you see just how big he is. Thick beads of cum pulse out of him that you lick up hungrily, humming at how you can feel hus veins on your tongue.

"Then please, Your Grace. Give me everything."

That seems to shatter his self control, because suddenly he has a hand in your hair and a hand on his cock as he forces your lips over his angry brown head.

"You're such a damn tease, you know that?" He gritts out, bullying his cock all the way to the back of your throat and then some. You gag and choke around him, already feeling your throat burn and eyes well up.

"Always coming around me with your father with your body on display in those cute little gowns, batting those pretty little eyes at me when you talk. What would your father think if he knew all of that was because you were trying to get my attention?" He coos between groans while using your face like just a vessel to get off, and your cunt starts dripping. "Just so I could fuck your pretty mouth like this?"

You can't do anything but moan around him, croaking out gasp when he finally lets you catch your breath before immediately pulling you back down onto his dick rapidly as snot mixes in with tears, spit, and cum starts to drip down your jaw and onto your floor. He begins to unbutton his shirt, before tearing it off completely, leaving buttons to fly across your room. Looking up through teary eyes you take in the way his usually combed back hair sticks to his sweaty forehead messily, as his abs tense and relax with every rapid breath as his mouth lulls open with lidded eyes, moaning when he sees just how well you swallow him.

Swiftly, you run your tongue over the slit of his cock, hearing him whine, and feeling the grip on your hair tighten enough to burn your scalp. Your throat aches with every heavy thrust that only spurs on the throbbing between your thighs as your hands play with his balls and he stutters in your mouth, shooting his seed down your throat, midst mumbling praises.

Without word or warning, he flips you over, effectively pinning you down to your bed once he's come down from his high. His large calloused hand runs up and down your thigh before tossing your nightgown up, and he groans at the sigh.

"You needed me so bad you didn't wear anything under this frilly thing? What a filthy girl." He grins, slapping your dripping cunt and drinking up your moan in a kiss.

"Your Grace,"

"That's not what you should be calling me." He grits, crouching down to his knees to lick a stripe up your throbbing pussy.

"M-miguel,"

"Yes, Princessa?"

"Please."

"Please what, Princessa?" He says, licking another stripe, but slower.

"Please...don't tease me." You whimper, muffling your moans with the back of your hand.

"And what shall I do instead?"

"Kiss me harder, please. I need it, Mig-" and your sentence is cut off by the feeling of his nose kissing your clit as he buries his face into your sopping heat, groaning at the way you suck his tongue in. You're writhing at the feeling, but when you feel one of his calloused fingers push through you, you lose your vision for a second.

"Fuck- you're even tighter than I thought you were," he groans, and you feel your body ignite at his admission.

"You'd think of me?" You ask with such a worn out voice, Miguel's hips buck up in search of any friction at all.

"All the damn time. Would fuck my hand everyday over those pretty eyes and lips, imagine how pretty you'd look all happy and spent, with the image of my love spilling out of you." He confesses, speeding his assault on your hole, hitting spots with his fingers you could only dream of, before latching his mouth back on and fucking you with his tongue and fingers. The arousal in you was rushing through you like a wave and just after a strangled moan it blows out of you in pleasurable burst that leave you flushed. He hungrily drinks you up like a starved man until you're whining from the sensation.

When he rises from the floor he doesn't bother wiping your slick from his mouth, only laughs at your fucked out expression, and runs his lips over yours, amused by how you trail after him. Annoyed, you wrap your hands around his collar and pull his lips onto yours, gasping and licking into his mouth. Between the taste of you on his tongue, his rock-hard cock rubbing against your puffy folds as your hands run through his sweaty hair.

"Gonna give me one more?" He asks, voice low like gravel.

"I'll do anything for you, Miguel. Anything you want."

He kisses you again, a passionate thing as you both whine at the feeling of him bullying into you.

"'Ts too big, Mig- oh! S-slow down!" You cry, but his hand slaps the fat of your thigh and grips it, hitting you even deeper at a fast pace. The pain is still there, but feeling of pleasure is much more intense. And it only skyrockets when you hear his voice.

"Sshhh sweetheart. You're-fuck-already taking me so well. so damn tight around me. Be good and take what I give you. So I c-can tell your father what a nice cunt his perfect little girl has." He rasps, pounding you even deeper than before, and your nails dig up the fabric of your sheets, leaving fabric frayed in long scratches. One hand grips your thigh as the other moves up your dress to tweak and grope your breast, making you clench down around him. He drawls out a curse as his head falls into the crook of your neck, inhaling the smell of your sweat and perfume that makes him impossibly more needy to where he's plowing through you in quick hard strokes that move your bed to knock against your walls, shaking the shelf above you.

His teeth sink into your neck, almost as a mark of ownership, before sucking a bruise into your skin, continuing his markings lower and lower to focus them on your breast. Your back arches at the sting and you cry out at the imposing feeling building up inside you.

"Such a pretty girl," he says, leaning over to look you in your eyes, studying the gaping of your mouth and tugging on your brows as your orgasm builds up. His eyes are trained on you, as he throbs inside you, stimulating you further.

"I'm close-" you whimper, voice cracking as he licks a stripe up your neck.

"Yeah?" He asks, smirk practically audible as he hums in your ear. "Do it. Squeeze me, sweetheart."

It only takes a few heavy strokes to hit your sweet spot before you are gushing around him, making his thrust sporadic and moans louder.

"Yes-shit- let me fill you up. I'll give you an heir, and then I'll-hah- fuck you again, and again, and again."

"Yesyesyes, please." You think you exclaim, but can't tell if you said it out loud or just in your head because of how overestimated you are. His hand rubs circles on your clit, and your toes curl as your heels dig into the muscle of his back.

"Fuck- I'm gonna-" He spits out, just before spilling his seed into your cunt, carefully riding out his orgasm inside you while pushing his cum deeper into your womb. His palm stretches over the expanse of your chest as he leans down to kiss just above your belly button. The room is quiet now that he is still inside you, and you watch Miguel lean down to kiss you once more, in the form of a soft peck to your swollen lips. Once he pulls back, he leaves you briefly before returning with a warm damp cloth that he wipes you down with. Once he is done, he discards it into a bucket and lies himself down next to you.

"If we continue to do this," he says, carefully pulling out of you. "We will eventually have to tell your father."

"You're right," you whisper scared, but when you feel his strong arm pull you flush against his chest, hope surges through you and you bury your face into his warm body.

"We'll need to get up early, the maids would appreciate finding us like this."

"We'll be fine. After all, a pregnancy will shock them far more than this."

"I'm sure it will," he laughs, kissing your forehead.

Since envelops the two of you, as you notice his breathing deepen.

"Your, Grace-"

"Miguel," he corrects, eyes dancing across your face with a small smile.

"Miguel, my father will be gone on the next full moon."

"The next full moon, huh?" He asks no one at all, pushing your hair behind your ear.

It’s bittersweet asking him to sneak around with you again. And yet, all he says is a simple "Okay," placing a kiss to the palm of your hand, and you understand what the gesture is:

A promise.

#( ☆ ) spiderman: atsv #( ☆ ) smuts #( ☆ ) fluff #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel ohara #miguel x y/n #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara headcanon #miguel o’hara fluff #sins in silk #duke!ohara

[theleotarot]

Future Spouse - What You Both Love About Each Other ♡

Choose the image you are most drawn to or resonate most with… pile 1, pile 2, pile 3, & pile 4 ✨

18+ Warning For Some

Pile 1

What your future spouse loves about you ♡ -

(Tarot cards: 5 of Wands, 9 of Pentacles, & 9 of Swords) • (3 oracle cards)

Your future spouse absolutely loves it when you playfully fight and banter with them. When you playfully argue with them, it really does make them feel so attracted to you (it can even be a turn on to them lol). I can see that sometimes they will flirtatiously tease something about you just to get some rage out of you, and when you do show some anger, they really enjoy it. It’s not a bad thing here because after all the teasing, the both of you may end up in the bedroom wrapped up together in your bed sheets haha. There are lots of playfully wrestling and tangling up with each other that they love a lot. They seem to really love it when you show your jealous side as well. They like knowing that you want them all to yourself only. Your future spouse also loves it when you literally throw yourself on them when you miss them. Like on some days, I’m seeing your future spouse coming home from work and you running up to them to give them the biggest and longest hug ever just because you’ve missed them, and they adore that clingy side of you. Also, are you the type to lightly hit people when you laugh as a habit?? If you are, they also love that. They love your playful side, and they love your aggressiveness when it comes to playful bantering and energetic side when it comes to being in bed together. 😈 They also love that you will do anything it takes to get what you want with your goals. Even if you have competitions to go against, you will put your best effort into making your dreams a reality, and they definitely love this about you.

While sometimes you may show clinginess to them, your future spouse already knows that you are independent as a person, and they love that about you. They love that you love them, but they also love that you love yourself. Everyone has times where they feel down about themselves, but at the very core, you know your own self-love and self-worth. I can see that sometimes, you will be looking at yourself through the mirror and telling them “look how pretty I look today” or “look how good my muscles look” and they will smile and tell you how amazing you are, and they love it when you just acknowledge how hot you are. They love it when you take the time to dress up and show off how good you look to the world. Your future spouse is also so proud of you. They love that you have worked so hard to accomplish all the goals you have achieved and the hard work that you have done to be where you are at. They adore that side of you that is resilient and has gained so much abundance from it! They love your confident side! Your future spouse enjoys watching you sleep and loves the way you sleep, even if you feel like you don’t look nice while sleeping! They almost seem to view you as an angel when you’re sleeping. If you’re also insecure about any dark circles or eye bags that you’ve gained from many sleepless nights, they love that about you. Any insecurities that you may have about your face, they love all of it! They also love when you wear the color red. For Women, they love it the most when you wear a red dress or even red lingerie. For men, they love it when you dress in burgundy clothing.

What you love about your future spouse ♡ -

(Tarot cards: 2 of Cups, 3 of Wands, & 8 of Swords) • (3 oracle cards)

What you love about your future spouse is their love and care towards you. You love it how they are the person who you’ve always dreamed about being with, and you love it how they are your other half. You love it that they are not the type just to give you gifts on some occasions, but they are a person who takes the time to know your love language and love you they way that you want to be loved. You are so comfortable to be yourself with them, and you appreciate that they accept and love you for the way that you are. You also love it when your future spouse emotionally opens up to you. You love it when they are lovey-dovey to you just as much as when they’re upset about something and they vent to you about it. It’s kind of like you just enjoy finally having a partner who is available to you and reciprocates everything you feel back at you. You also love it how they are a great listener and always there for you when you are going through difficulties. I can see that on some days, maybe you have some conflict with family members, and it makes you very upset, and your future spouse is able to see right through you, so they set up a nice dinner arrangement for the both of you to let you know that they are there for you. You love this romantic and selfless side of them. You love it how they understand and see you clearly. Ultimately, you love it that they just get you.

You also love it how your future spouse is extremely outgoing and willing to take on new challenges in their life. You love it that they are always trying new things like a new hobby, job, food, class, and more to spice up their life. This also includes acts in the bedroom, if you know what I’m saying lol. I’m seeing that sometimes when you both are together in bed, out of nowhere they’re like “do you want to try this new thing out? Or do you want to try that thing we’ve always been wanting to try instead?” and it just makes you feel amazed at how exploring they are because it makes you explore new things too! In addition to the bedroom acts, you also love it that they are always wanting to expand themselves in all areas of their life. No matter what given situation they are going through, they will stay optimistic about the future and are ready to keep moving. You also love it when they take you out on trips and vacations for a getaway from your busy lives. I can see that your future spouse may have either dark features or a protective look to them that you are attracted to. Maybe sometimes they feel shy about the way they look and it’s kind of cute to you, or you are attracted to them when they look closed off. It’s kind of like you love it how they have this look on them that’s dark, sexy, reserved, and avoidant, but in reality, they aren’t as dark as they portray themselves. They are actually emotional, romantic, and outgoing.

Pile 2

What your future spouse loves about you ♡ -

(Tarot cards: Justice, 8 of Cups, & The Moon) • (3 oracle cards)

Your future spouse loves how truthful you are towards them. They absolutely love it when you are open with your feelings and tell them everything you think and do. Of course, everyone has things that they keep to themselves, but I believe that you are the type of person to tell their partner nearly everything, and that’s what they appreciate about you. It’s not that they are nosy about your life, but it’s that they love it when you show that you have trust in them. For instance, if you were to have a certain habit that you are ashamed of, you will eventually open up to them about it because you believe that they should be the one that helps you through breaking the bad habit. Not only do you talk to them about serious issues, but they are the one person you always call or text when something good happens to you, and they adore seeing you excited! They also really respect the morals that you have in your life, like telling the truth, showing compassion, not hurting others’ feelings, and having respect. You also implement these morals into your relationship, and they love this so much about you. For some of you, you may even “wait” to lose your virginity until you get married, and they really respect that out of you because they see you as someone who takes things very seriously and dedicated to their beliefs. With you, they have complete trust in you, and they just know that you are their forever person. I can also see that you may enjoy watching crime documentaries or interested in the law system, and they find that intriguing about you. Your future spouse also feels that you are the good karma in their life. They have given so much love to others, and maybe before you, they always felt like no one ever returned their love back to them, but after being with you, they realized that true love does exist for them. They have finally found the balance in their life, and they love you for helping them find it.

Your future spouse loves it how you don’t live in the past and that your past experiences don’t make you a bitter person. They admire that you are able to look at your negative experiences in the eyes and turn them into life lessons. I can see that sometimes, they may do something that they think will make you mad, but it turns out to be that you are okay with it and don’t overreact to it. They might be thinking “really?! how come she/he isn’t mad?!” And it’s because you have grown so much from your past experiences. You have learned to be patient and not tolerate things that don’t serve you anymore. Your future spouse loves this about you though. It’s not that you are a person that lets them step all over you, but it’s that you do not waste your time over the little things, and you have a lot of strength in moving on from difficult situations. They also love it how you can mentally take them away from things in their life. For instance, I can see that when your future spouse is having a bad day, they come to you to relieve themselves, and they just feel at ease with you. Maybe when they’re sad or mad, you take take them out to go moon gazing or star gazing, and they deeply appreciate your kindness for caring about them. If you are a lover of watching the moon or stars, they adore that about you, since they enjoy the romance between you and them when you both are watching the sky together. Your future spouse also loves that you are always changing your appearance. Maybe you like to dye your hair a lot, and they find that attractive, or maybe you like to change your clothing style a lot, and they find that attractive too. There’s also something about your eyes that make them feel nervous, I’m seeing that you may have eyes that shine so bright to them, like literally a glistening moon. If you have a rounder face, they find it to be extremely cute as well.

What you love about your future spouse ♡ -

(Tarot cards: Knight of Pentacles, The High Priestess, & 3 of Wands) • (3 oracle cards)

You love that your future spouse is emotionally stable and that they make you feel safe and secure in your relationship. Not only are they an achiever of their work and educational goals, but they are also an achiever of making you know that you are loved by them. They may not be as expressive of how they feel, but they show you their love through their hard work and actions. For instance, they may not tell you that they love you as much as you’d like, but they will let you know that they love you by cooking you meals, massaging you, picking up your children from school, and helping you do everyday tasks so that you can just lay back and rest. It’s not that they don’t love you, but I feel like their love language is more on the acts of service side, and you really love this about them. I can see that they love to give you expensive gifts from time to time as well, and you absolutely love their giving side. You kind of like being spoiled lol. I can also see that sometimes they may teach about some sort of things that you want to learn about. For instance, if you’d like to learn more about finance, they are the person who will teach you those skills, or if you’d like to learn more about cooking, they are the person who will teach you how to improve your cooking. Basically, they have a lot of knowledge on their end, and they teach you a lot of things in life, and you appreciate their guidance. They are also a very thoughtful individual where they think about everything before they say it out loud. It’s rare for them to slip out something that is offensive to you, and you are grateful for their kindness. Ultimately, you love the maturity and stability that your future spouse gives you in your relationship. You just know that they are your soulmate and that they love you with all their heart!

You love that your future spouse is very intuitive. They believe in themselves and may be quite independent when it comes to their work life. You just find it so attractive that they have self-confidence and can flow through issues by themselves. They might also believe in astrology and tarot reading as well! You will be fascinated by this. I can hear you saying “you really believe in those too?!” Haha. You love it how they would share this common interest with you. Your future spouse is also a great listener, and you appreciate them for always hearing you out. I can see that sometimes when you’re quiet because something is wrong, they will be able to see right through you and tell you that it is okay for you to talk it out with them. You love that they are empathic, and they are always willing to listen to your problems. They may also be reluctant to starting arguments with you. They stay away from having conflict with you because they dislike it when you both are mad at each other, and they just love you that much. You also love that they are always growing their appearance. For instance, if your future spouse works out, you will notice their progress and tell them how even hotter they look! I can see that you may be attracted to their toned muscles, and they are definitely irresistible to you. You might even be jealous at times, not because you think they will cheat on you, but because they just look so good that people are prone to like and want them! (But no they won’t cheat on you). They might have different hair styles that you like too. You also love it when they dress up in business attire. It makes them look so professional yet so sexy and confident at the same time!

Pile 3

What your future spouse loves about you ♡ -

(Tarot cards: Page of Swords, 3 of Wands, & 7 of Pentacles) • (3 oracle cards)

Your future spouse loves your young energy with them. They love that you are so fun to be around and that sometimes you can be blunt with them. They take it as a compliment that you are full of joy and you are forthright because it makes them feel young at heart and fearless with you. I can see that you are very adventurous and like to go out to different places as well. Maybe you like to go out on vacations and explore places that you’ve never been to, and they just enjoy having fun by your side, while also getting to explore the world. They also really love your laughter. I’m seeing that sometimes when you crack a joke with them, you laugh at your own joke, and they end up laughing so hard with you because they just love your laugh so much haha. They also love your communication skills with them. Not only are you blunt sometimes, but you take the time to let them know about what’s going on in your life, and they really appreciate that about you. They love the conversations that you both have as well. I can see that your conversations range from you talking about your personal life problems about your family relationships and friendships to conversations about you telling them something funny that happened to you during your day. They really love hearing your voice and laughter. They also really love how you are very lighthearted and don’t take everything so seriously all the time. Even though you are young, they definitely are aware that you are intelligent and smart as well. They never take your youthfulness for granted, and instead, they love how you are so open to being yourself. In the long run, they love your youthful energy and the fun, laughter, and joy that you bring into their life.

Your future spouse loves how ambitious you are towards your goals. If you are still getting your degree, they love your grit through the process, and if you are working towards a career goal, they love the hard work that you implement to achieve it. They also love how you’re always spicing the excitement up in your relationship! I keep hearing that you are always wanting to travel with them! Whenever you and your future spouse aren’t busy, I keep hearing you say things like “hey babe! let’s go here! let’s go there!” And they’re like “really babe?!?! I just got off work!” But they say yes anyway because they love having adventure with you. They love your enthusiasm and ambition to have fun and that there is just so much excitement and sparks between the two of you. I am also getting the feeling that your future spouse loves to take you on trips often because they’d like for you to have a peaceful mind. I believe that you may go through difficult situations, and maybe this pertains to your family or friendship life. They can see through your difficulties, and they just want to see your smile all the time, so they take you on vacations for your happiness in return. Your future spouse loves all the “imperfections” about you as well. Maybe you’re someone who is always trying so hard to look “perfect” and thinks they can always do better, but in reality, your future spouse doesn’t think so. They’re already so in love with your looks, and they already think you’re so perfect! You may also have a younger look on your face, and they find that to be very attractive too. They also love your glass-like skin and love to caress their fingers on your body. 😘

What you love about your future spouse ♡ -

(Tarot cards: The Emperor, The Sun, & 4 of Cups) • (3 oracle cards)

You love that your future spouse takes the lead in your relationship. They give off more masculine energy as well, and you find this super attractive. I’m getting a vibe that you might even find it kind of sexy when they take control and lead your relationship. They might have qualities of a parental figure. Maybe you didn’t have a great parental figure in your life, so being with someone like your future spouse makes you appreciate them more. It sounds weird but it really isn’t. The gist of it is that they heal your inner child, and you find this romantic of them, yet you find it so sexy as well. You also love it how they take care of you very good. They provide food, a home, clothing, accessories, and other necessities in your life. They may not be the type to be all lovey-dovey, but they will show you how much they love you. I can see that when both of you are walking together, they always make sure that you walk on the sidewalk instead of them. I can also see that whenever you feel cold, they put a blanket over you or their jacket on you to keep you warm. You love the protection that they give you. You also love looking up to them for guidance. When you need a push to keep going with your goals, they are the person to direct you back on track, and you love this about them. You love how inspirational they can be. You also love it when they take you out to places and go traveling out. You love that they love going out on adventures with you, as well as just spending alone time with them in a place that feels like paradise.

You love the way your future spouse brings you so much positivity in your life. Whenever you feel down, they are the light in your life that makes you smile again. Whenever you talk to them, you are able to laugh with joy again. Whenever you look at them, you feel warmth again. I get a sense that you also enjoy seeing them interact with other people or animals. When you see them interacting with other people and animals, it’s like their positivity radiates off to them as well. You love it how not only you find your future spouse to be so lovable and positive, but so do many other people and even animals! You are also very impressed with how successful they are in their work field, and I get the feeling that they have done this by having excellent leadership skills. Of course, you already admire that they are a great leader in your relationship, but you also admire that they are such a great leader with others! They are so powerful, strong, sexy, and kindhearted. You also love it when they are the center of attention sometimes. It’s like, you know that your future spouse is hot, and when people drool over them, you take it as a compliment because everyone wants them, but they are only yours. You also find it very sexy when they pretend to be aloof. When they act emotionally distant from you, it makes you attracted to them even more. I’m getting Edward and Bella vibes here lol. When they turn away from you, it just makes you want to throw yourself more on them haha. I don’t know why! But it’s kind of kinky of you to be honest lol! 😝

Pile 4

What your future spouse loves about you ♡ -

(Tarot cards: The World, Knight of Cups, & 10 of Wands) • (3 oracle cards)

Your future spouse loves that you are quite the full package for them. You are everything they have been looking for in a partner. They love that you are kind, smart, wholesome, funny, mature, intelligent, and physically attractive all in one. They love that you have achieved so much in your life. You are very successful, and I do feel that they are inspired by your completion in life to reach their own goals. They also love that you have been through a lot in your life. It’s kind of like they admire you for acquiring so much knowledge. For example, you might have traveled a lot around the world, and it resulted you in learning about different cultures, and they are so amazed by this, or you might be very well-educated, and they are astonished by your brightness. You are grateful for everything that is around you and everything that you have done to accomplish your goals. You are not conceited, but you are content and proud with yourself. They love your gratitude very much. You might have grown up in an extremely different environment from them, or your cultural backgrounds are completely different, and every day that the both of you are together, you always teach them new things about life. They love that they can learn new things from you. I can also see that when they are having a conversation with you, sometimes you like to fill in their sentences and they’re like “??!! How did you know?!” And it’s because you are telepathic and know what your future spouse is thinking or will say. They find this cute and funny about you, but they also really love that you know them so well. They also love that you make them feel whole. You are the missing piece in their life that they have needed all along. I keep seeing a scenario between the both of you cuddling, and your future spouse holds and tells you “you make me feel so complete. without you, i don’t know where i’d be at. i love you so much.” There’s just so much intimacy between the two of you, and they just love everything about you and what you’ve done to make them happy. 🥺

Your future spouse absolutely loves your romance! I feel like you are very affectionate with them, and they really adore this part of you. You may be the type to give them diy (do it yourself) gifts, expensive gifts, set up surprise dates, kiss and hold them, and all the rest of the lovey-dovey things. They also love it when you hold them in bed and when you’re the big spoon haha. They love to be showered with your love and affection, and they appreciate all your efforts to be so wonderfully romantic. They also appreciate you for always making it clear that you love them. They never question if you love them or not. You may also be very affectionate with children, and they love seeing you interact with them because you are very warm-hearted when it comes to younger children. They love how you are emotionally supportive of them as well. I can see that sometimes when your future spouse is upset, you are there to support them. Sometimes, they may even want to be left alone when they are upset, and you will always respect their decision. They don’t do this because you make them angry, they do this because it is just a natural way that they cope with stressful situations. You might be the type to overwork yourself in order to look good or care too much about other people’s opinions, and your future spouse notices this about you, but they already feel like you are good enough. They appreciate your efforts to look nice, but at the same time, they feel like you don’t even need to put the effort in. They already find you very attractive.

What you love about your future spouse ♡ -

(Tarot cards: Queen of Pentacles, The Star, & Death) • (3 oracle cards)

You love that your future spouse is so nurturing and down-to-earth. They are quite literally all you want as a partner and as the father or mother of your children! I can see that they do a lot of house chores like washing and folding the laundry, doing the dishes, mopping the floors, and cooking and cleaning around the house. Not only do they help with housework, but they also provide a lot of money in your relationship. They do housework, and at the same time help pay off bills and provide necessities for you and your family. You also love that they are very loving and open towards you. You yourself are really in tuned with your emotions, and your future spouse compliments this by returning their love and having heart to heart conversations with you. You love the stability and security they give as well. You know well in your heart that they love and care for you so much, and they wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You feel very confident that they are your person and that you will always be in each other’s hearts. You love that they are quite a bit of everything. They do chores, work, pay bills, and show you love in every way all in one. I can see that on some days when you come home from work, they will give you a nice feet or back massage, and the both of you will talk in-depth about how your days went together. You will also have a lot of cozy nights where you are both cuddled up on the couch and spend time watching your favorite movies or shows. You love that they are everything to you, and you could not ask for more. Their love for you and your love for them is just unstoppable.

You love that your future spouse gives you hope in all aspects of your life. On your lowest days, they are the one who gives you hope for the future again. I can see that on days when you feel unmotivated to get out of bed, they will talk to you about why you should get up and remind you of all the good things that can happen in your day. They are also the type to feed you breakfast in bed to start your day off as amazing! They are your light in the darkness, and you appreciate this about them because they are quite literally the only person that can pull you out of despair at times. They are also a dream come true to you. All the wishes that you have made to find someone like them has finally become reality, and each time you look at them, you fall in love more. They are your wish fulfillment, and they always remind you that dreams do come true. ❤️ You also love that your future spouse is someone in the spotlight. I believe that they might be someone well-known in their field of work, and you admire that they have so much recognition! They are very successful, and they persuade you to be the best successful version of yourself as well. You also find your future spouse to be quite sexy. They might have darker features that draw you in, and their height is also very attractive to you. I am also getting that they may have gone through a physical transformation in their appearance. Maybe, since the day that both of you met, they are always looking better and better from there on, and you love this about them. I can see that sometimes you think to yourself “damn! how can they get even better?! they’re already so sexy.” Haha. 😘

#tarot reading #love reading #future spouse reading #relationship reading #free tarot reading #oracle reading #pick a card #pick a pile #love pac #pac #tarotcommunity #daily tarot #tarotblr #tarot #oracle #fs reading <3 #pac <3

[serpentandlily]

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny VI - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny VI - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: smut (minors dni), fluff, angst, misogynistic language/beliefs, violence

A/n: I hope this part is good enough for you guys to forgive me for being a week late!

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Part VI

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

To your disappointment, when you woke up the next morning, Eris was already gone—the sheets cold on his side. You let out a sigh and got up, blinking the sleep from your eyes. It was only then you realized Willow and Ivy were fretting around the bedroom, the wardrobe doors thrown open and piles of dresses on the floor.

“What on earth are you two doing?”

Your handmaidens jumped in shock at the sound of your voice before Ivy turned to face you. “Oh, Lady, you are awake! Lord Eris requested we pack an overnight bag for you.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “For what?” 

They both shared a glance before shrugging but they couldn’t hide the smiles on their faces. “We can only guess, my Lady, but he did not tell us anything.” 

“Did he at least tell you where he’s taking me?” You sighed but they both shook their heads.

“No,” Willow grumbled, “Which is why we’re struggling to pack. We have no idea what you’ll need.”

But Ivy just smiled brightly. “We’ll just pack a bit of everything. That way you’ll be ready for whatever it is he wants.” 

The look in her eyes told you she knew exactly what Eris wanted and your cheeks turned red. You let out a huff of air before falling back down on your pillows. 

“Oh no, Lady, you mustn’t fall asleep again. We are to escort you to the stables in an hour's time. Willow will run you a bath.” 

You let Willow help you get ready, your mind on Eris and what he had in store for you. Willow dressed you in a long burgundy gown that had a corset styled bodice that clung to your frame and a flowy chiffon skirt. Tiny roses were embroidered along the lighter side panels of the skirt. 

Luckily, it wasn’t long before your handmaidens were presenting you to your mate who was waiting for you at the stables. 

Eris was staring at you with an intensity that had your face full of color. It wasn’t until the two of you were left alone that his infamous fox-like grin spread on his face. He was dressed finely in dark brown breeches with riding boots and a tunic embroidered with small leaves along the seams. 

“Would you like your own horse this time, bunny?”

Right, you did technically know how to ride a horse now. But you shook your head. “May I ride with you?”

“Who am I to deny a lady her request?” Eris purred, extending a hand out to you. Butterflies danced in your stomach as you took it, letting him pull you close so he could lift you onto Marigold, the horse. 

He strapped the overnight bag to the horse before he lifted himself up behind you, wrapping his arms around your body to take the reins in one hand and pulling you back against his chest with his other. Your cheeks turned pink and you let out a content sigh as the warmth from his body combatted the crisp morning air. 

Marigold started her trot into the woods and it was silent for a moment before you spoke. 

"Where are you taking me?"

"It's a surprise," Eris teased.

"I don't like surprises," you pouted.

"No?" Eris's breath tickled the tip of your ear. He moved your hair to one shoulder, granting him access to your throat. He pressed a kiss against the sensitive skin there causing a shiver to run down your spine. "Well, that's too bad, bunny. You're getting one." 

You were smiling without realizing it, so honed into the places Eris's body met yours. The morning birds were chirping, the leaves rustling in the chill autumn wind. It was enchanting. The Autumn woods were quickly becoming a sanctuary for you and your mate. You hadn't felt this happy in a long time. 

You asked Eris an endless amount of questions about the Autumn Court, his brothers and family, and his life during the horse ride to wherever he was taking you. The sun began to set, sending streaks of golden light through the openings in the leaves. It wasn’t until you saw smoke curling around the tops of the tree, that you realized you were nearing your destination. 

Soon, a small cottage nestled between the tall trees appeared. Moss and ivy clung to the outer walls, blending it into the earthy flora surrounding it. A path made of fallen leaves led towards the front door, flanked by wildflowers in various colors. The babbling of a creek met your ears as you squinting to see through the sunlight filtering in through the canopy of trees above. 

“What is this place?” You twisted your head to look up at Eris. 

“One of my personal residences,” Eris answered, staring wistfully ahead. “One few know about.” 

As you drew closer to the cottage, Eris guided Marigold to a stop. He slid off the back, keeping one hand lingering on your waist.

“And you're sharing it with me?” Another secret Eris was willingly divulging to you. He had no idea how much it meant to you. He gave you a charming grin as he helped you down. 

“There is nothing I wouldn’t share with you, bunny. What is mine is yours,” he said. He kissed the top of your head before guiding you into the cottage with a hand on your back. 

As you stepped over the threshold of the hidden cottage, the scent of aged timber and a faint hint of herbs and spices greeted you. A snap of Eris’s fingers had the wood in the fireplace coming to life. Furniture made from weathered oak and mahogany filled the room, now illuminated by the warm glow of a crackling fire in the stone hearth. A plush armchair was nestled beside the hearth, a stack of books on top of it.

In a corner of the room, a spiral staircase wound its way upwards, disappearing into the shadows above. An opening straight ahead showed a peek of a kitchen. You spun as you walked forward, taking it all in before turning back to find Eris staring at you with a small smile. 

“I come here when I need a break from my father and duties,” Eris said, surprising you once again with his candidness. “And I needed to come here today so I didn’t murder my brother for slipping that breeding tonic into your drink last night.” 

Your eyes widened. “Reid?” 

Eris nodded, his jaw clenching. “He claims he did it only to embarrass you a bit at dinner but then my mother sent you away. He says he had no idea that you’d run into those guards.” 

You rubbed your arm, looking down at the floor as the memories of last night flooded your mind. “And you believe him?” 

“I unfortunately do. That doesn’t mean he didn’t face any…consequences for his little prank,” Eris said as he walked towards you. He slipped two fingers under your chin and made you look at him. “But I want you to know, bunny, that nothing like that will ever happen to you again. Do you hear me? I will not let anything happen to you. I don’t care who I have to kill to ensure that.”

“But Eris—”

He placed a finger against your lips, silencing you. “No. No buts. I was blessed with the gift of fire and I will burn down this whole world with no remorse if that's what it takes to keep you safe. Do you understand?” You opened your mouth to rebuke his words but Eris shook his head. “I don’t want to hear any objections. They will change nothing. Just a simple yes or no, bunny. Do you understand?” 

You searched his amber eyes for something, not even knowing what you were looking for. But you knew what you found. A heavy resolve, a promise, a need to protect. And you realized in that moment that you felt all those things as well. You swallowed, audibly. 

“Yes,” you whispered. “I understand.” 

Eris grinned. “Good.”

“So, why have you brought me here, my Lord?” You asked in a teasing tone, lightening the mood. 

“I brought you here to have a break from the suffocating nature of my court,” Eris answered, guiding you further into the charming cottage. 

“Well, I appreciate your consideration, my Lord.”

“Oh, back to formalities, little bunny?” That fox-line grin bloomed on Eris’s face. “I thought we moved past that last night.” He stepped closer to you, brushing some of the hair away from your face. Your cheeks turned red again causing Eris to chuckle, “Oh don't look so embarrassed, bunny. You seemed to quite enjoy having my affections.” 

Butterflies danced in your stomach. His scent was too enticing, the power that seemed to burn all around him all encompassing. Your face was on fire, your heart too. But he was right. You had enjoyed last night. You had wanted his lips on you, his hands on your skin. That hadn't changed. Even now that the breeding tonic had worn off. That craving for his touch was still there. 

"I believe you made me a promise last night, my Lord," you replied with a slight smile, toying with the laces of his tunic. 

“I did,” Eris growled and took your hands in his. “I intend to keep it.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest. The look in his eyes caused another wave of desire to crash into you. Unfortunately, your stomach decided that was the time to make itself known. A small rumble sounded and you nearly cursed at it. But Eris chuckled and stepped away, to your disappointment. 

“Come, bunny, I had the cook prepare us a light dinner,” he said, leading you to the kitchen.

Dinner consisted of an array of cheeses and breads, along with dried fruits and nuts. You were glad it was so light because you had more of an appetite for the male sitting in front of you than the food on the table. The sentiment seemed shared considering the lingering touches and heated looks Eris had been sending you. By the end of dinner, he looked quite pleased with himself for riling you up, sitting in his chair like it was his personal throne. Eris waved a hand and the dishes and plates disappeared in a blink of an eye. 

You sat frozen in your chair as he eyed you, drinking the last of his wine from his goblet. His gaze was enough to set you on edge, predatory but it didn't frighten you in the slightest. In fact, it made you come alive. He set his glass down before standing, making you hop out of your chair. If you had it your way, he'd toss you over his shoulder again like he did the first time you'd met and carry you straight to the bedroom. But instead, he leaned against the kitchen cabinets and beckoned you to him.

You'd never felt more like a bunny than in this moment. Like a hare about to be caught in a trap. 

As you stepped close to him, he brushed the hair out of your face, hooking it behind your ears before taking your cheeks in his hands. His touch was so warm, so comforting. Who cares if this was a trap? If this was the fox you were to be ensnared by, then so be it. 

“I need you to understand something before we continue down a path I know I will never be able to return from, bunny,” Eris began, his amber eyes glowing in the candlelight. “Whatever happens tonight is your choice. If you want to go back to the manor, I will take you. If you just wish to sleep, that is what we will do. Anything you don't like, just say the word and I will stop without question. Do you understand?”

A moment of silence passed as you processed his words, the care he was spelling out for you. Your hand fell on his chest, lingering over his beating heart. One you now knew was good—at least for you. And you realized it was never the fox that had ensnared the bunny but rather, the other way around. 

Because this Eris, the one standing before you now, was entirely reserved for you and you only. 

“Eris,” you whispered.

“Yes.”

“Kiss me,” you breathed out. “Please.”

“You'll never have to beg me, bunny,” Eris purred before finally pressing his lips against yours. 

The kiss became heated fast, leading the two of you to stumble around the cottage until he was pushing you up the stairs. You giggled, taking your skirt in your hands to rush up the steps. You barely made it through the threshold of the bedroom door before you were grabbing Eris by the lapels of his shirt and pulling him into a frenzied kiss. He groaned, eagerly kissing you back as he kicked the door shut behind him. 

Your hands slid down to the buttons of his shirt, feeling his muscles tensing under your touch. But Eris pulled your hands away from him before breaking the kiss. You whined at the loss of contact, lips swollen and breasts heaving with pants. 

“Not so fast, bunny,” Eris said with a wave of his hand that had every single candle lighting in the room. 

You gasped as the room came to life, as the light illuminated the large four-poster bed covered in dark red, velvet sheets and fluffy pillows in all shades of Autumn. A small hearth warmed the room and textured fabrics hung from the ceiling embedded with faelights that gave the room a hazy and comforting atmosphere. 

“Come here,” Eris rasped, holding out his arm. 

Your heart fluttered as you took it, letting him draw you close. He spun you around and moved your hair to one shoulder before his hands drifted down to the laces on the back of your corset. His nimble fingers began to expertly unlace your corset while he pressed a kiss to your exposed shoulder. You let out a breath at the feeling of his warm, soft lips against your skin. 

You reached back to help him with the ties, too eager to wait, but he ripped your hands away. “Relax, little bunny,” Eris purred. “Let me do all the work.” 

Your heart started beating faster.

“Okay,” you whispered. 

Eris smirked against your skin, satisfied with the response.

He finished unlacing the corset and your dress dropped to the floor, pooling around your feet and leaving you in just your underthings. You were nearly shaking with anticipation, your breathing heavy as he lightly brushed his knuckles down your spine, causing you to shiver. 

Eris leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Get on the bed.” 

“I thought you were doing all the work,” you teased.

“You’re right,” Eris smiled before he picked you up by the hips and tossed you onto the bed as you squealed, letting you fall on the soft cushions. 

He prowled towards you with a grin, unlacing his own tunic and tugging it off. Your gaze fell to his chest, his muscled abs. Your breath caught in your throat. Eris already looked like a God but he was built like one too. 

Eris’s eyes roamed your body, his hands fisting like he was restraining himself.

You held your breath as he slowly hovered over you, his eyes searching yours for a moment until he found the certainty he was looking for. And then he kissed you again and your body came to life once more. Sparks skittered down your skin, crackling with energy.

He kissed his way down your jaw, your throat, all the way down until he was scraping his teeth against your pebbled nipple still hidden under your bra. You gasped before slapping a hand over your mouth. 

Eris’s eyes shot to yours and he growled, “My one and only rule tonight is that you let me hear those noises, bunny. Do you understand?”

You gulped and pulled your hand away from your mouth, nodding your head though your cheeks turned pink. 

“Good girl,” he purred before continuing on, leaving a trail of kisses down your exposed stomach until he pressed a kiss to the dampened spot on your panties, right between your legs. You breathed out his name, so on edge. 

“Gods,” Eris groaned. “You smell absolutely divine.” 

You might be a virgin but you weren’t completely naive when it came to sex. You had certainly read enough romance novels to prepare you for this moment. But you hadn’t expected to feel like this—to feel so utterly captivated by Eris, aching for his touch. 

“I want to see all of you, bunny,” Eris murmured, his amber eyes drinking you in. He toyed with the straps of your bra as he gave you his famous grin that made him look all the more fox-like considering the absolute hunger in his gaze. “May I?” 

“Yes,” you said, breathless with butterflies ravaging your stomach. The desire for your mate ate away any embarrassment you might’ve felt otherwise. 

His grin grew, his elongated canines exposed. Eris slowly pulled the straps of your bra down your arm, the silky fabric moving softly against your tingling skin. And then his hands were beneath you, arching you up slightly so he could unhook your bra. 

He gently pulled the garment off of you, tossing it to the floor. 

“Beautiful,” Eris groaned, his hard cock pressing against your thigh told you just how true that statement was to him. 

Shyness started to creep in and you quickly covered yourself with your arms, blushing bright red. Eris tsked and moved your arms away. “Don’t be shy, bunny. It’s just me and you here.” 

Just you and Eris. Just you and your mate. His words eased you and you felt your body soften underneath him. His large hands caressed you as he kissed his way down your neck until he finally took one of your breasts in his mouth. 

You hissed, your hands flying to tangle themselves in his hair. He grinned against your skin as he continued his ministrations, making you feel hot with need. You whimpered as his cock rubbed against you.

“Please, Eris,” you begged, not even sure what you wanted or needed. 

Eris sat up, his hands sliding to your waist. “Is my bunny ready for something more?” 

You nodded, eagerly, squirming under him. He hooked his fingers around your underwear. “Lift your hips for me, babygirl.” 

Your heart swooned at the new nickname. 

“Gods,” Eris groaned as he finally peeled off your final piece of clothing, baring you fully. “Gods, you are so beautiful.”

You felt…vulnerable as he drank in the sight of your bare body laid before him. Your toes curled at the predatory look in his eyes. Something about the dominance, the control he held over you in this moment made every rational thought leave your mind—his scent of crackling embers and cinnamon was intoxicating.

Eris leaned over you again to run his hands over every soft curve of your body. His hand drifted back between your legs, gently caressing your throbbing core. You whimpered, bucking up into his touch. 

Eris smirked against your lips. “Is my little bunny ready for me?” 

You swallowed harshly while nodding your head. 

He pressed a kiss to your neck before whispering, “I need your words, bunny.” 

“I’m ready, Eris,” you whimpered. “Please, don’t stop.” 

“I already told you that you’d never have to beg for me,” he murmured. He kissed his way down your neck, his body sliding down yours. Your brows furrowed in confusion. 

“What are you doing?” You didn’t want to wait any longer, already going crazy with want. But he didn’t stop. 

“Relax,” he purred. “Let me take care of you.” 

He pressed a kiss to your stomach. 

“My little bunny,” he murmured against your skin. 

Another kiss to the spot between your hips. “My babygirl.” 

And then he was kneeling on the floor, hooking his arms around your thighs and yanking you to the edge of the bed. You gasped, raising on your elbows to look at him. He kissed the back of your knee, tickling you, before he moved his way up your thigh, leaving love bites along your skin. 

“I need to taste you.” His voice was full of hunger, lust, as he left marks all along your thigh—sucking and biting the soft skin. 

You gasped as he ran his tongue up your slit, grasping the bedsheets in your fists. The books you read always made this act seem hot but feeling it was something else. Desire flooded you, leaving you panting for air. 

And then Eris was devouring you…devouring you like you were the sweetest fruit he’d ever tasted. You tossed your head back against the pillows, crying out his name in pleasure. 

“Eris,” you mewled. “Gods.”

Eris’s own hand slipped down to rub himself through his pants at the sound of your cries. His other hand rose, replacing his mouth to rub circles on your clit.

“I’ve got to get you ready for me, bunny,” he whispered, his finger toying at your entrance making you squirm with need. You weren’t sure what he meant by that until a single finger slowly slipped inside of you. 

You moaned at the feeling, your back bowing off the bed. Eris slowly pulled his finger out before thrusting it back in you. You couldn’t help your hips from grinding down in rhythm with his thrusts. 

“That’s it, babygirl,” he praised. He gave you a few more thrusts before he slowly started to add another finger. You hissed at the feeling of being stretched, sucking your breath in. “Breath, bunny. You’re doing so good.”

Another thrust had you finally relaxing, the slight pressure replaced with hot pleasure. You moaned his name as Eris continued to fuck you with his fingers, his mouth sucking on your clit again. He didn’t stop. Not even as your moans came out as pleas, as his name fell out of your lips over and over again while he pushed you over the edge, your vision going black with all the pleasure as you orgasmed. 

Still, he continued to devour you, causing you to writhe, overstimulated with pleasure. Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair, pulling slightly as you cried but Eris merely growled, “I’m not done yet, bunny.” 

You weren’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse. You ultimately decided it was indeed a blessing as he brought you to your second orgasm with his tongue and fingers far more quickly than your first. You were gasping for air as he made his way back up the length of your body, smiling with satisfaction at how unraveled he had made you. You couldn’t help but grab Eris’s face in your hands, marveling at his striking and cruel beauty. 

“You’re never escaping me now, bunny,” he growled, running his nose up the column of your neck and groaning at your scent. “Now that I’ve got a taste of you, I’m never letting you go.”

“I don’t want you to,” you murmured, your heart beating in your chest. 

“Good,” he answered, kissing you and letting you taste yourself on his lips. His hand was back between your legs, stroking your still sensitive core. You moaned into his kiss, your hips thrusting up against him. 

He grinded his hips down, rubbing his hard cock against you and you gasped, breaking the kiss. The unbridled hunger in his gaze had your heart racing as he stared down at you. “Do you still want this, bunny?”

“Yes,” you whispered, quickly. You were sure you’d go insane if he didn’t fuck you at this point. He sat back on his haunches and began to unlace his pants. His hard cock sprung free from its constraints and your eyes widened as you glanced down at it.

Eris tossed his pants somewhere behind him, chuckling as he noticed you observing him. By feeling alone you’d known his dick was big but seeing it now, you felt slightly intimidated. You sat up a bit and reached a hand out, lightly stroking him with curiosity.

Eris groaned, his hips twitching into your touch. He gently pulled your hand away, resting over you with one arm next to your head. “You can explore later. I need you. I can’t wait any longer.” 

You nodded, swallowing with anticipation. He stared directly into your eyes as he guided himself towards your entrance, pausing one last time to allow you the chance to stop. But you placed a hand on his cheek and pulled him into a kiss instead. Eris kissed you, hungrily. His tongue parted your lips as he devoured you. He lined himself up before slowly starting to push into you. He wasn't even an inch in before he felt the resistance. He kept you locked in a kiss as he pushed farther in, stretching you out to the point of pain. 

You cringed slightly at the feeling, pulling away from his lips with a hiss. But the way Eris stared down at you with so much reverence and care comforted you. Still, you grimaced as the pain increased, as the stretching felt more like he was tearing you in half. 

You hissed again and Eris peppered kisses to your face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.” 

You shook your head, unable to tell him to stop apologizing. He grunted as you dug your nails into his biceps while he continued to thrust in slowly. “Fuck, bunny, you’re taking me so well.” 

His praise caused your heart to flutter, making you relax more until he was seated all the way. He groaned, glancing down at where both of your bodies were now connected. Your grip on his biceps were still tight as the pain started to soothe into a warmth that began to spread throughout your body. 

“Breath for me, babygirl,” Eris whispered, kissing your jaw. You nodded, eyes squeezing shut. You hadn’t even realized you’d been holding in your breath. The exhale of air from your lungs made your body soften fully and soon the pain was overwhelmed by the pleasure of having him inside of you. You moaned out his name, trying to let him know you were ready for more. 

“That’s it,” Eris groaned, feeling the tension leave. He slid out only a fraction before pushing back in—just enough to make you whimper. He brushed some of the damp hair from your forehead with a tenderness that had the bond in your chest aching. 

You were desperate for him to start moving and you realized he was waiting on some cue from you—some sign that you were ready for him. But talking felt impossible right now, your brain empty of all thoughts except a need for your mate. You lifted your hips, your breath catching with the movement. Eris grunted at the feeling of you around him. 

You breathed out his name again and that seemed to finally snap his restraint. Yet he was still gentle as he pulled all the way out of you before slowly thrusting back in. Your back arched at the new feeling. You finally released your grip on his biceps, stringing your arms around his neck instead. 

Eris began to move faster, deeper. One of his hands slid down your thigh, guiding you to hook it around his hips. The new angle caused him to hit a spot inside of you that had moans spilling from your lips. Eris kissed any part of you he had access to—your cheeks, your lips, your ears, your neck. His lips were hot, warming your skin as if you were standing next to an open flame. 

“So beautiful,” he whispered. “So beautiful.” 

His thrusts into you had you sliding against the silk sheets, had your breasts bouncing and your core throbbing around him with pleasure.

And he was watching you the whole time with a devotion that had you breathless. His whiskey amber eyes so focused on you and your pleasure, like it was all that mattered to him in this moment. His rhythm quickened, his strokes faster and faster as you spiraled underneath him—coming undone completely. 

It was overwhelming in the best possible way. Your bodies together as one. The feeling of the mating bond singing in your chest. The bliss of finally sharing yourself with someone you were falling in love with. Someone who held you like you were his entire world. Someone who saw all the unseen parts of you—the parts no one else had cared to look at. 

The culmination of everything had fire licking its way down your body, warmth spreading through your veins. Each thrust had a new wave of pleasure crashing into you. Each kiss had your heart beating to the tune of his. You were his in this moment—heart, mind, body and soul. And he was yours. Your fox. Your mate. Your Eris. 

Your vision went white as you toppled over the edge for a third time, screaming his name as you were consumed by his fire. Eris cursed as he rode out your orgasm, his pace growing sloppy as he lost himself in the feeling of you. He pounded into you, over and over again. You were mindless as you lightly grasped his cheeks, staring into his beautiful face—your body still in its state of bliss. 

“Mine,” he grunted. “You are mine.” 

“Yours,” you agreed. “And you belong to me.”

Those words had more of an effect on him than you could ever imagine. He groaned your name, his jaw tensing before he cried out and gave one final thrust inside of you that had the entire bed shaking. His forehead fell against yours as he climaxed, shuddering and panting for air. 

You stayed like that, wrapped up in each other for who knows how long. Just you and him. You and Eris. Nothing else mattered right now. Not his father or his court. Not your sisters or your mysterious powers. No conflict, no war, no pain. Nothing but the two of you and the eternal flame that connected your souls. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

You should've known that the euphoria wouldn't last for long. The universe always had a way of making sure the highs were met with the lowest of lows. So when you returned to the Forest House with Eris the next day and were summoned immediately upon arrival to the throne room, you were not surprised. Still, a lead weight dropped in your stomach. Eris had staunchly tried to argue that you could remain within his chambers while he dealt with the matter but the guards had been adamant that the High lord had requested both of your presences. 

He held your hand tightly in his as you walked into the throne room together. Beron sat on his throne, Seraphina on her smaller chair to the side of him. Eris’s three brothers stood at the bottom of the dais—each of their faces unreadable. Reid’s face was covered in bruises and you winced, knowing it was your mate that was behind it. Still, you couldn’t find it in you to feel bad. Not after what he had done to you. 

Eris had glamoured your scents, not wanting to give his father any ammunition to use against you. The Gods knew how traditional the Autumn Court was. Beron would be displeased to know you had sex before your mating ceremony. Would likely use that as an excuse to do who knows what.

“Father,” Eris said, dipping his head in a faux show of respect. 

Beron glanced at his son before looking at you, expectantly. You dropped Eris’s hand and curtsied like you’d been taught. “High Lord.” It was enough to have him look away from you and back to his eldest son. 

“In the time you’ve been absent,” Beron started, holding his hands behind his back. “I’ve learned of a few…events that have transpired in this court. Namely the death of three of my best guards and the disfigurement of one of my sons.” 

Eris scoffed, straightening his cuffs. “Reid will heal.” 

You tensed, noting the anger in Beron’s eyes. 

“That may be so,” Beron replied. “But my guards will not.” 

“They deserved death for what they did,” Eris growled. “They attacked my mate.” 

“And by whose word is that?” Beron asked, his tone chilling. “Were there any witnesses of this alleged attack? Or did you simply take the word of a female over three trained, professional guards—guards who have protected you your entire life, son?” 

“I saw it with my own eyes,” Eris snarled, stepping forward. 

Beron merely tilted his head, staring down at his son. “Any other witnesses?”

“You don’t believe your own son?” Eris questioned, causing Beron’s eyes to narrow.

“Not when his actions seem far too…uncharacteristic,” Beron said. “You are not known to attack others, Eris. I expect far more restraint from my Heir. Now, answer my question. Are there any other witnesses?” 

Eris stood up straighter, unwilling to back down. You swallowed harshly, your eyes darting between Beron and your mate. “Her two handmaidens were witness as well.” 

Beron chuckled, mirthlessly. His dead eyes lacked any amusement. “Two lesser fae? As if they are known for speaking any truths. Please son, you humor me greatly.” 

“So you refuse to take me at my word,” Eris scowled. “Yet also refuse to hear from the two witnesses who saw the attack, as well. What is it you want?” 

Flames licked the shoulders of the High Lord, a show of his growing ire. “Watch your tone when talking to me, son. What I want is justice for the guards who have lost their life over something so…trivial.”

“Trivial?” Eris scoffed. “You think it’s trivial that they—”

Beron held up a hand, silencing his son. “I wasn’t finished. Do not interrupt me again or there will be far greater consequences.” 

Eris moved in front of you, blocking his father’s view. You were nearly shaking with dread, nausea swimming in your stomach. Where was Beron going with this?

“As I was saying,” Beron continued. “I seek justice for the guards who are now dead. Punishment for your mate’s lack of decorum that resulted in their actions which led to their deaths. For that, she shall receive ten lashes.” 

The room fell silent except for a small gasp that came from your lips. Ten lashes? Ten lashes all because his guards had attacked you? That was….that was insane! Your lip quivered. Eris glanced back at you for a second, his face pale before his expression hardened into rage. He turned back to his father, glaring.

“I am her mate,” Eris declared. “And according to Autumn law, allowed to take her punishment as mine.”

The fact that he wasn’t trying to argue with his father told you that it would probably be no use.  

“Is that what you want?” Beron looked pleased, as if he knew this would be the outcome to his sentencing. You felt ready to puke. How could a father be so eager to hurt his own son? Just how twisted was this male?

“Yes.” Eris’s voice didn’t waver or soften. 

“Eris,” you whispered in horror, stepping forward. You couldn’t let him do this—couldn’t let him get whipped on your behalf. Neither of you should be facing this punishment. It was both cruel and unjust. But if someone had to take it, it had to be you. 

Eris turned to look at you with a stern expression.

“Don’t speak,” he ordered, his voice so harsh you nearly flinched but you knew his anger was not directed at you. You knew he was just doing what he could to protect you. “Go to my chambers and stay there until either I or your handmaidens come to collect you.” 

“She is not going anywhere,” Beron spoke up. “You are allowed to take her punishment but she is ordered to stay and watch. She must understand what it means to be a part of this court. Must understand what her actions have caused.”

“Father,” Eris’s voice was slightly pleading for once but Beron held up his hand again.

“Another word and it will be fifteen lashes instead.” 

Eris’s shoulder fell and he quickly schooled himself, nodding. You took a sharp breath, your eyes welling with tears. You wanted to reach for him but two guards grabbed you by the upper arms and held you in place. You watched as Eris began to unbutton his shirt, tossing it to the ground before falling to his knees at the bottom of the dais. 

No.

This couldn’t be happening.

You were going to be sick. 

You choked in fear as Beron summoned a whip made of fire in his hands, coming to stand behind his son. You tried to break free from the guards’ hold but it was impossible. Tears slipped down your face.

“Don’t!” you cried out. “Please, don’t hurt him! I’ll take them. I’ll—”

“I said another word and it would be fifteen lashes instead of ten,” Beron growled, his cold eyes darting to you before they looked back down at his son. “Your mate just caused you another five lashes, Eris.” 

No. No. No.

Your eyes darted around the room, looking for someone who might put an end to this. Who might stop this. But it was Finn who caught your eyes and gave you a small shake of the head, his lips pressed in a fine line. You were heaving, horrified. You had made things so much worse already. So much worse. 

No one was coming to stop this. No one was coming to save Eris. No one ever had. 

You stood frozen as the first crack of the whip echoed through the big room, striking Eris’s back and ripping through his flesh. Your heart was pounding in your chest as the whip rose again, the flames dancing in a menacing way. Another strike had more tears blurring your vision. By the third strike, you had fallen to your knees, retching. 

You couldn’t even see Eris’s face, but you knew it was contorted in agony. You tried to send comfort down the mating bond, comfort and love and anything else, but it was met with a wall of flame that blocked you out. That only had more tears falling down your face. Even in his agonizing pain, Eris was still protecting you. 

Memories of last night flooded your mind. The joy, the elation, the love. The time spent together wrapped up in each other like nothing else mattered. The secrets the two of you had shared beneath the covers. How had you gone from that to this? 

Your heart shattered with each strike. Your soul was aching as you sat there, watching in horror as Eris’s blood began to pool on the tiled floor. You had caused this. This was all your fault. All Eris had done since the beginning was try to protect you. And this is how you had returned the favor. The worst part of it all was knowing he wouldn’t even blame you at all for this. Not even for the five extra lashes you had caused. 

By the seventh strike, your own pool of vomit lay around you. 

Eris didn’t even cry, barely moved at all. It was haunting and it made you realize that this was not the first time this had happened to him by a long shot. How many times had his father punished him like this in his lifetime? How many scars lingered underneath his skin—only hidden by the unnatural healing of the fae? By the fifteenth strike, you knew the answer to be far too many. 

The guards finally let you go once Beron had finished and left the throne room, taking his wife with him. You scrambled to your feet, darting towards Eris but Liam caught you by the arm with a grimace. “You won’t be able to carry him. Let us take him to his chambers.” 

You were forced to watch again as both Liam and Finn heaved Eris’s near unconscious form up between the two of them. You trailed behind them, tears soaking the collar of your dress. The walk to his chambers seemed to take an eternity. Eris groaned as they fumbled him through the door. 

“Get him to the bath,” Reid murmured, causing you to jump in shock. You hadn’t realized that even he had followed. 

You darted ahead of them, starting to fill the basin as they dragged your injured mate into the bathing chambers and slid him into the tub. Eris grunted in pain as the water splashed against his wounds, staining it red. You muffled your own cries with a hand. 

“Father won’t allow him to be seen by a healer,” Finn whispered to you. “Can you take care of him from here?” 

You nodded your head, speechless. 

“He has some cooling salve and bandages under the sink,” Finn said, nodding his head towards the sink. “Come find me if you need help.” 

The three brothers took their leave after that, leaving you alone with your mate. You pulled out all the supplies Finn had mentioned, falling to your knees next to the tub where Eris sat, his knees drawn to his chest and his head resting against them. 

“Eris,” you finally whispered, stroking his hair. “Eris, I am so, so sorry.” 

“S’not your fault,” he mumbled, tiredly. 

You wanted to scream. Wanted to cry and scream and rage. But it was more important to take care of him right now. So you slowly set to work, apologizing each time he flinched as you cleaned his wounds. Your heart ached as you helped him out of the bath once you were finished.

“Come on,” you murmured. “Let’s get you on the bed.”

You helped him strip off his wet pants and underwear before laying him down on the bed on his stomach. You pulled the sheets up to his waist, leaving his back untouched. You kneeled on the bed next to him, taking out the salve to start spreading it over the wounds. 

Eris let out a sigh as you started applying it and your heart cracked in your chest as he slowly drifted to sleep, his body finally giving out. You cried as you smeared the salve over the burns before bandaging them gently. Once you were done, your head dropped to his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried to his sleeping form. “I’m so sorry.” 

You don’t know how long you sat there, crying over him. But at some point, you finally sat up and wiped your face dry. Beron might’ve forbade any healer from helping Eris, but you had learned a thing or two from Elain about some plants that might help. Plants that the two of you used to mash into a paste and give to Feyre for all the blisters and calluses she would return home with when you were living in that small cottage. Plants that you knew you had seen during your ride in the forest with Eris. 

With that in mind, you gathered yourself before setting out to collect some, leaving Eris asleep on the bed for now. 

Luckily, you were able to sneak from the Forest House without anyone seeing you. You hid amongst the trees, plucking the plants and bundling them in your skirt. When you were confident that you had gathered enough, you started making your way back to the Forest House but you didn’t make it very far before you were interrupted. 

Shadows seemed to grow between the trees until a very familiar face stepped from them. You gasped in shock as Azriel materialized right before you, his hazel eyes staring directly at you. 

“Y/n,” he greeted, cooly, looking over your form like he was looking for any injuries before meeting your gaze again. 

“Az…Azriel? What are you doing here?”

“We’ve figured out a way to get you out of this mess,” he said, taking a step towards you. “Come, Feyre will explain to you once we’re home.” 

You mirrored his step backwards, eyes going wide. You didn’t want to go home…in fact, you knew in your heart that Velaris was no longer home to you. Home was…Home was Eris. You shook your head at him, trying to form the words to tell him you weren’t coming. 

“N-no,” you finally stuttered out. “I-I can’t go back. I don’t want—”

“Like I said—it will all be explained once we get back,” Azriel cut you off, moving quicker than you and grabbing your arm causing you to drop your skirt. All the plants you had gathered for Eris fell to the ground. “Let’s go.” 

And then you were engulfed in shadows, the Autumn Court disappearing from view. And all that was left in your place was a pile of healing plants for your injured mate—for Eris who would go on to wake up alone. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

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[iloveboysinred]

Under the Canopy [Firelord Zuko]

Mdni 18+ content | Firelord! Zuko x Reader

Synopsis; Being Firelord had been taking up all your husband’s time. It was hard trying to be a supportive wife by keeping your own desires to yourself.

cw; fem!reader, sexually explicit content, messy oral sex (giving and receiving), fluffy smut, smut with feelings. P in V sex, two seconds of subby Zuko if you squint, split second of overstimulating the firelord, slight mentions of exhibitionism, kinda long and written by an amateur. ;<

; 3291 words

Masterlist

Sorry for the way the paragraphs are formatted, apparently tumblr’s servers cant handle long paragraphs 😒

GIF by @/choschang

It was quiet in the Fire Nation tonight.

You sat by Zuko’s study in your shared room, watching him work. He was writing letters in response to the leaders of the other nations, addressing their concerns as well as handling issues within his own nation. It took all his focus, brush in his hand sliding around on the parchment with precision. While you, left quiet and nothing to do, occasionally took the time to study him. His brow furrowed in concentration as he wrote, his steady hand occasionally pausing to dip his brush in the ink to continue writing on the scroll. The task seemed so simple, but you could see in his eyes he was beginning to grow tired. Zuko has been up long nights as well as enduring equally as draining meetings with diplomats, generals, and his advisors, all in the name of restoring peace to the world, and honor to the Fire-Nation. After the 100-year war, the burden of his forefather’s mistakes fell on Zuko and Aang, working restlessly to reverse 100 years of oppression, which of course, was no easy task. Paired with the uprising of rebellions, and the daunting task of earning the trust of his people and the whole world, being Firelord has kept your husband occupied and stressed.

Many times you found yourself in the same exact place you are now, leaning over the edge of the desk, offering little comments of advice and correcting his grammar, ignoring his occasional demands you get your rest. These long nights were the only alone time you and your husband could enjoy together right now, even if its just you sitting by his side quietly as he worked. Occasionally he would reach over and tangle his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand to let you know he appreciated your presence.

Your heart craved more than gentle hand squeezes and rushed pecks here and there, you missed the warmth of your husband. Many nights you’d lay alone in your extravagant bed, longing for the tender love and passionate touches only Zuko could provide. The silk red and maroon bedsheets reminding you of your husband’s insatiable appetite for your body. Your mind wandered back to your first few nights as newlyweds, when Zuko fucked you on any surface he could hold you up against. His hips rocking into yours hastily, pussy drunk and inexperienced, making his pace desperate. But by the time night had fallen, he had gained plenty of practice on exactly how to please you, making sweet love to you under the stars, not caring how loud you were or who saw you.

You rubbed your hand up the side of your neck, once constantly covered in angry red and purple marks. All gifted from your needy husband who couldn’t keep his lips off of your skin. You sighed, shifting your position on the chair you had taken next to the study. You tried to shake off the creeping arousal you started to feel in your core.

Zuko had to work. It would be selfish to interrupt him.

But you couldn’t help but want to be selfish. The bed behind you looked emptier than it has ever been. The duvet crisply folded over top of the cool, silk red sheets underneath pressed to perfection, not a single wrinkle in sight. Your soft, elegant pillows perfectly arranged in various shades of burgundy and red. All sitting on top of a strong, oak bed frame. A huge tapestry of the fire nation insignia hanging from the wall. Your gaze seemed to stick to the canopy you had specifically asked your husband to have built for you. The thick curtains now tied neatly to their posts. You pictured the lazy mornings you had with Zuko, your legs spread and comfortably resting on his shoulders, his head buried in between your thighs sloppily getting his fill of you. You’d thread your fingers through his hair, lightly grinding your pussy onto his face, urging his tongue deeper. Those very same curtains blocking out the morning light, letting you and Zuko enjoy a little more time with each other.

“Y/n? Cant you hear me talking to you??” bringing you back to the present, you tried to give your husband your undivided attention, your thighs clenched together, your undergarments now damp from your heated arousal. Those filthy thoughts of your husband making your heart race and your clit pulse. “Are you tired or something?” He asked you, tenderly reaching over to place his warm hand on your knee. You jolted at the contact, confusing your lover, who gave you a sideways glance before moving his hand to grasp yours, now resting on your thigh. “N-no i’m not tired baby. I’m just…reminiscing.” Zuko narrowed his eyes at your response, piercing gold looking straight into your soul. “About what?” He questioned, rubbing circles around the back of your palm. The warmth of his hand on your skin made your body tingle. “Well, i’m just thinking about our honeymoon…how I used to have you all to myself. Now it feels like I can barley get two minutes alone with you..” A knowing look overcame Zuko’s face, and you thanked the spirits your husband could read you so well to know what you meant without having to say too much. His cheeks flushed lightly, not expecting an answer of that nature and you smiled warmly at him. He never stopped being bashful, despite being well aquatinted with your needs and desires by now.

“Its okay though, my love. I know you’re busy nowadays. I wouldn’t want you to abandon your duties because of me-“ “come here, love” Zuko interrupted your rambling, pulling his chair away from the study and beckoning you over to sit on his lap. He spread his thighs as you sat down, giving you room to get comfortable. You clung to his robes, and he wrapped his arm around your back, holding you steady against his chest. His other hand rested at your thigh, rubbing and squeezing the soft skin. You felt your clit pulsing between your legs. You were so close to your husband’s dick, resting just under you. The only thing separating you from him being the thick robes that he adorned, and the thin fabric of your panties, now clinging to the damp skin of your pussy. Zuko caressed your back, pressing slow kisses up the length of your shoulder and neck. Nuzzling his nose against your cheek, his warm breath fanned across your skin, you melt into his embrace, breathing out in contentment.

“Tell me exactly what you remember about our honeymoon.” He murmured, sighing blissfully as you threaded your fingers through his hair. You flushed, timidly hiding your face in his neck as you recounted the filthy thoughts you had been thinking about just minutes before. “Well..i was thinking about the first night on Ember Island” you mumbled, moaning when you felt Zuko sucking on your neck, already attempting to leave a hickey on the skin of your throat. “ mmm..mind telling me the details?” His raspy voice made your heart skip a beat, light breaths escaped you as Zuko continued kissing your jaw, his other hand creeping up your thigh, causing your night dress to hike up, the fabric bunching up around your hips. You stilled as his hand ghosted over the skin of your inner thigh, dangerously close to your core. “I was thinking about how you put me up against the wall.. you fucked me so good that night. You always do” you breathed, shivering when you felt your husband’s finger ghosting over the flimsy panties stuck to your skin “And what else?” you barely heard him, the ache between your legs and his teasing was mind numbing. “I just miss you so much, Zuko.” you confessed, your voice was close to whiney, trying to pull at your husband’s heartstrings as much as you can. Zuko hummed, his hands tracing over the lining of your panties, thumb rubbing over the fabric covering your mound. Your breath hitched, the cotton clinging to your lips. He traced over the indent of your pussy, never once taking the soiled fabric off your skin. It was torture, the way his finger pressed slow circles over your clit, the friction of the fabric against you driving you insane. “I want you so bad baby, please” you whined, pressing yourself into his hand. You just about cried with relief when you felt your husband’s fingers slip past the band of your panties, right into your entrance. You arched your hips up, chasing the pleasure.

Zuko smirked against your neck, curling his fingers deliciously against your g-spot, his fingers moving in and out of you steadily. “Zuko..” you sighed, trying your best to fuck yourself against his hand, your hips matching the push and pull of his fingers. “Yes, my love?” He murmured against your ear, knowing exactly what you wanted. But you knew your husband. You knew he wanted you to use your words. “I want you to fuck me..” you whispered, grinding down against his semi-hard dick the best you could with his hand in the way, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. Zuko groaned at the contact, looking into your eyes, glazed over in desperate arousal, lust dancing in his own golden irises. Faster than you could even think, Zuko picked you up off his lap, hastily laying you down on your shared bed. The cooling red silk of your bedsheets felt pleasant against your heated skin. He leaned down, pressing a heated kiss against your swollen lips and you him kissed back, sloppily sucking his tongue into yours, eagerly grabbing at anything you could reach on your husband’s body. Zuko matched your fervor, with his hands running down your sides, fingers hooking onto the hem of your night dress, rolling the fabric up over your thighs and exposing your clothed sex. He pulled the flimsy fabric off with ease, slowly dragging the soaked garment off of you, discarding it somewhere you didnt see, or care. His hands grabbed the underside of your knees, pulling your legs open and pushing them up to your chest, opening you up for your husband’s hungry gaze.

He was quick, dipping his head down and pressing a wet kiss on your mound, dragging a finger up your slit to spread your pussy open, revealing your soaked folds. Your body shivered, the warm air against your clit sending shockwaves up your spine. You felt so open, completely exposed and at your husband’s mercy. Zuko wasted no time, pressing his warm lips against your clit, he suckled on the sensitive bud slowly, parting from you just to press his hand over the surface of your mound, the firm pressure causing your clitorial hood to inch back, giving your him more access to your bundle of nerves. You whined when he resumed his ministrations, devouring your pussy whole. Your body jolted when his fingers entered your heat, the pleasure almost overwhelming your senses. Zuko moaned against you, eating you like a starved man and fucking his fingers into you, curling inside of you and massaging your walls. You gripped his dark locs, hips bucking into his mouth out of reflex. A warm pool began to form in your stomach, the familiar feeling setting your nerves a light. Zuko spread your thighs, burying his face deeper into you, pulling away from your clit to replace his fingers with his tongue, tasing you whole. You gasped from the welcome intrusion, legs closing around his head, holding him still against you. But your husband was having none of it. He aggressively spread your legs open, tongue fucking you with vigor, fingers coming up to rub quick swipes over your clit. It didn’t take you long for your to reach your release, your vision going white as your body convulsed above him. Chant after chant of Zuko’s name as he continued to eat you out, riding out your high. Your chest rose and fell, your breath labored as you looked down at your husband, his hair now tousled and free from the top knot he had neatly placed it in. His chin was shining with your essence, and his pupils were blown. Even with his disheveled appearance Zuko still looked so handsome, and you felt butterflies in your stomach, just as you had when you first met him. Zuko leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to your navel, leaning up towards you and capturing your lips with his. Then he moved back down to your neck, placing feather light kisses against your skin.

A few moments later you caught your breath, your husband still cuddling against your chest, sucking marks on whatever patch of skin he desired. You tugged at his thick robes, successfully pulling the heavy fabric off your husband’s body with his help. Your eyes racked over his body, drinking in the sight of him. Zuko didn’t bother to move the robes off the bed, instead kneeling on them as he pulled his undergarments off, his hard length slipping out, tip flushed and drooling with pre cum. You pushed your hand gently against his chest, laying him back down and reaching for his dick, wrapping your hand around him. You stroked him from base to tip, twisting your wrist around the head and thumbing over his slit, rubbing his pre cum into his skin. Watching your husband shudder and lean his head back in bliss was rewarding. You lowered down to take him into your mouth, tongue flat against the side of him. Zuko sucked in a sharp breath, his hips stuttering up into your mouth at the sensation. You gazed into his eyes as you swallowed him whole. Holding your breath to stop yourself from gagging, you bobbed your head up and down his entire length, breathing through your nose as best you could. Zuko let out a drawn out moan, throwing his head back. You watched him, face hidden from your view, dark hair splayed out on the pillows. You knew exactly how to make your husband fall apart, and you loved every second. You dragged you tongue up his length, wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking, hollowing your cheeks as you bobbed your head, focusing all your efforts where he was most sensitive.

Zuko had been reduced a mess above you, whining your name out and panting, begging you to bring him to orgasm. “Oh fuck baby.. just like that”, “youre doing so good baby”, “you look so pretty sucking my dick like this” were a few of the phrases he slurred, praising you as you pleased him exactly how he liked it. Your free hand came down to cup and rub his balls. Squeezing them gently in time with your bobbing head. You swallowed him down once more, choking against his length as you bobbed your head at his base, his tip hitting the back of your throat. You swallowed around him, sending him over the edge. Zuko took a deep breath as him came, his body going rigid as he spilled into your throat. A jumbled mess of curses and your name spilled from his lips as he drowned in bliss. Eventually you pulled off him, stroking his length to milk him for everything he had. Zuko shuddered, pushing your hand off him, feeling over stimulated. But if it was one thing your husband had, it was stamina. Giving himself a few seconds to recover, he was on you again. Flipping you on your back, he wasted no time situating himself between your legs, his flushed tip rubbing poking your skin and his hair curtaining around you as his body leaned over yours. You stared up into his eyes, so many different emotions swimming between you both. Longing, lust, and love. “I love you” he mumbled, leaning down to rub his nose against yours, kissing your lips sweetly. “I love you most, Zuko” you responded, lovingly placing your hand on his cheek, his pressed a kiss to your palm before leaning back up, taking his warmth with him. The loss was soon forgotten when you felt him enter you, your walls expanding to welcome him in. You let out a low moan, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer, deeper. His pace started out slow, rubbing his warm hands down your thighs as he rolled his hips into you, fucking you deep. “Zuko..” you sighed, his name seemingly being the only word your fuzzy brain can remember. “I know baby..” he leaned down towards you again, mouth pressing a kiss to your ear. “Just let me take care of you” he whispered, threading your hands together. His pace soon picked up, his hips meeting your thighs with every thrust. The weight of his body on yours felt amazing, the obscene sounds of your wetness filling the room and fueling his libido. Every thrust into your heat was filled with longing, the same desperation you had reflecting in him as he fucked you eagerly. You shuddered as your husband moaned into your ear, letting out strings of curses and praise as he lost himself in you. “Fuck baby.. i love you, i love how you feel” he slurred, reaching between your sweating bodies to rub at your clit, urging you to near your end. You cried out as you felt his dick beat against your g-spot. Your walls contracting around him, the pleasure in your core almost too much to bear.

The silky sheets under you felt suffocating, seemingly trapping the heat of your bodies. The sensations you felt becoming overwhelming. “Yes baby, yes!” You cried as he continuously hit that spot inside of you, his relentless pace driving you further and further over the edge. “You fuck me so good baby, oh fuck!”your voice reduced to whines, rolling your hips to meet his, fucking him back. “Let it out baby, give it all to me” Zuko grunted in your ear, his own release creeping up behind him. He rubbed your clit in fast circles, desperately chasing your release, as well as his. Your body went rigid as you came, the breath forced out of your lungs. Your walls squeezed and spasmed around Zuko, who bottomed out inside of you, releasing deep into your pussy. He let out a deep groan, his eyes shut tight and his eyebrow furrowed as he lost himself in pleasure. It was a sight to behold, and you considered yourself lucky to have it reserved just for you.

After a few heartbeats Zuko pulled out of you, grabbing one of the towels the maids made sure to leave on your night stand. He dipped it in the water basin, heating up his palm to warm the cloth. He cleaned you up, carefully wiping the mess up from between your legs, pulling the top sheet off the bed and throwing it somewhere on the floor. You sighed in contentment when you were in his arms again, he had taken the canopy down from its posts, the dark curtains blocking out the candle light in your room. Happiness surged through you as you snuggled into him, your back pressed to his bare chest as he tenderly pressed kisses to your shoulder blades. “That was amazing” you whispered, cuddling into his bicep and closing your eyes, enjoying the afterglow. “Yeah, it was” he murmured, wrapping his arm around your mid-section. “I’m sorry i’ve been so busy my love.” He sighed, pulling the discarded duvet over “like i said, its okay baby. Being Firelord isnt an easy job.. your nation comes first” you sleepily assured him, nodding off in the warmth of his embrace. “But you matter too..i promise i’ll make time for us. I’ll ask my advisors for more help. I’ll get through this as quick as i can” you smiled against him, bringing his hand up to press a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “Okay baby” you mumbled “i love you…” “ i love you too, y/n. So, so much” he whispered, putting out the candles in your room, tugging you closer to him. You slept peacefully that night, and in the morning your husband helped himself to another serving of you, just as he always had before.

Reblogs and notes appreciated :> hope you enjoyed!

Edited and final proofread; 04/28/24

#zuko smut #zuko x reader #❥iloveboysinred #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #fire lord zuko #atla x reader #atla smut

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 TO SOMEONE FROM A WARM CLIMATE

FEATURING: beast dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you're with him. you're actually with him. everything all of the other dazais have got to experience, he now can too. in his exhilaration, he almost forgets about the threats lurking on the horizon. until you slap him in the face with it, that is. {wordcount: 18k; fem!reader; romance & tragedy}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: PART THREEEEEEE i had a particularly terrible day today guys hahahh literally everything that could go wrong went wrong </3 i'm very tired, but i hope you guys enjoy this installment. for all of u who read badlands, we have a very anticipated parallel scene in this one. + i added a little surprise pov at the end heheh

GENERAL WARNINGS: again, i'll just leave this warning on every chapter - dazai struggles a lot with disassociation/derealization & losing himself in the pages of the book. + we have a bit more of unhinged thought processes on dazai's end which becomes particularly apparent during one of these scenes. as always please let me know if i forgot any warnings

SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST READ: BADLANDS SIDE A

You wake up from what might be the best sleep of your life to the sun peeking through the blinds of an unfamiliar bedroom. 

It takes a few moments for you to regain your bearings, yawning and stretching as you sit up in the bed, trying to figure out where you are. It’s fancy, fancier than anything you’ve ever come across before. The dark sheets are soft and silky against your skin, you swear that this must be what clouds feel like. The room itself is a bit odd—large but empty, there’s a dresser on the far wall and a nightstand next to the bed, but there are no trinkets or knick knacks that usually litter a person’s bedroom. It’s almost reminiscent of a hotel room, you think. 

Your gaze drifts over to the side, where a vast window looks over the city. You can hardly see the view through the blinds, but you can tell you’re high enough that only clouds can be seen below, no sign of the bustling city that you know rests beneath you. Your hazy mind starts to remember what happened last night: the club, the convenience store, your apartment, the leak. Dazai. 

Dazai.

Your face immediately feels hot, hand coming up to curl your fingers around your mouth as you realize whose room you’re in. Your eyes flicker around the room nervously even though you know he’s not in here with you. You wonder what time it is, you reach around for your phone to check but you must’ve dropped it somewhere in your exhaustion last night—hopefully somewhere in his apartment (can this even be considered an apartment? it’s huge!) Maybe he’s waiting for you out in the main room of his penthouse, you hope he is. You also hope that he got some sleep last night, you remember that he insisted for you to take the bed but you still feel bad that you usurped his room from him.

… Although it’s not much of a room. Big and fancy with a view that costs more than your life, yeah, but nothing that makes it his. Like a husk. A house, not a home. The bed doesn’t even smell like him—well, you can’t say you know for sure what he smells like besides the cologne he sported in your past few meetings with him, but you know it doesn’t smell like him because it doesn’t smell like anything. Only the faint smell of old detergent meets your nose, not a single other sign that someone has been living here.

You push the covers off of you and swing your feet over the side of the bed, stretching again as you kick your feet out with another yawn. You think this might be the first time in months that you haven’t woken up with an aching back or sore neck and you can’t help but cast a longing look back at Dazai’s bed, wishing you could steal it and drag it back to your apartment to replace your ruined bed.

You don’t bother changing as you drag your way out of his bedroom; you’re decent enough in a burgundy camisole and matching pair of shorts. Yes, you’d chosen your nicer pajamas because yes, you’d still been hoping maybe something would happen between the two of you. You hadn’t realized how hard the exhaustion was going to hit until too late. 

Maybe something can still happen, you giggle a bit to yourself as you open the door to his apartment and then stop yourself immediately, horrified at yourself. You wonder when you became like this. You swear you don’t usually go around desperate for sex like this, you feel like a bit embarrassed, honestly, that your train of thought keeps leading this way but you blame Dazai because he’s plain cruel for flirting with you as intimately as he does without even sparing you a kiss. It’s like he’s trying to drive you crazy. You’re becoming even more convinced that the man set some sort of spell over you. 

“Gooooood morning!” you sing, your voice still tinged with sleep as you exit the bedroom and catch sight of the object of your desires lounging back on the dark couch in the main room of his penthouse—penthouse, insanity—typing away at his phone with a frown. He’s dressed in the same outfit he was in last night, which is also the same outfit that he wore last week, and every other week before that—you wonder if he just didn’t change or if he has a dozen pairs of the same outfit. 

Dazai doesn’t respond, gaze cutting upward, a bit too wide to be casual. The expression on his face is entirely indecipherable, something caught between shock and an emotion you can’t quite place, but it’s softer, you think, maybe a bit sadder too. You brush it off, wondering if he forgot you were here, which would be embarrassing but also a bit ridiculous. So, you think that maybe you just look like a mess after waking up. You should have brushed your hair before coming out of the room, you don’t even know if you brought a brush with you last night. You can’t remember.

You plop yourself down onto the couch next to him. Laying the side of your head against the cushions and curling up a bit, you position your body to face him as you say, “Your… apartment is so nice.” There’s a longing lilt to your voice as you speak. “If you’re not careful, I might never leave.”

It’s a joke, of course, you don’t want to intrude, but you think your life would be one hundred times easier if you were living in a place like this rather than your small, shitty apartment. Plus, you get a view and you’re not talking about the city. Dazai looks gorgeous beneath the mid-morning light, you think. Well, he’s been gorgeous every time you’ve seen him but you think especially so now, with the way his smooth skin glows and his dark eyes look almost gold beneath the sun rays, but you notice the dark bag beneath his visible eye and guiltily, you wonder if he got any sleep last night. He’d long abandoned his phone, attention on you, and you feel warm beneath his gaze.

“I don’t think I’d mind that all too much,” he murmurs, eye curved up as smiles softly. 

You’re flustered, instantly, and your face feels hot as you avert your gaze to the coffee table in front of you. Your eyes focus on a familiar item sitting on it and you light up, reaching out for it. “My phone! You found it!”

You pull it toward you and unlock it, frowning when you realize that you must’ve left it open on your landlord’s contact information last night, trying to figure out what you should message him. You sigh as your tip your head back against the couch, realizing that you’re going to have to deal with all of this today. Fighting with your landlord about the leak, ordering a new mattress and a new laptop—god, you don’t even think you can afford that right now, you’re going to have to place a deposit down for your seat at school soon and then figure out tuition. 

“You dropped it outside the room,” Dazai notes, drawing your attention back to him as he nods at the phone. “How did you sleep?”

“Better than I have in years,” you sigh wistfully, letting your head fall to the side to look at him. “You have to tell me where you got your mattress. This is the first time I haven’t woken up with a shitty back in forever… especially considering I need a new one because my ceiling decided to drop gallons of water on my bed.”

“Gin-chan would know,” Dazai says, and you can’t help but notice how his gaze seems to track down a bit to your lips as you speak. You try not to smile a bit. You think you fail. You do shift a bit closer. Subtly. You think he notices if the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips says anything about it. His words hardly register until he says, “I have to leave in a bit for a meeting, she’ll come make sure you’re okay and see if you need anything.”

Irrationally, your heart drops with the illogical fear that maybe you’re reading into things because who is Gin-chan and why does she know what type of mattress Dazai has? Maybe it’s not irrational, because that’s odd, isn’t it? Who would know what type of mattress someone has besides like… a wife? But wouldn’t he have mentioned a wife or a girlfriend in the past few weeks? Of course, he would have… right? You didn’t notice a ring, but you don’t want to be obvious and look down to check now. There’s no way he’s the type to cheat anyway, so you assume you’re just missing something—unless they’re not on good terms with each other but haven’t divorced? But… Your thoughts begin to spiral, rapidly and terribly, because you are not a homewrecker, you swear, but you don’t think you’ve ever wanted someone more than Dazai Osamu. 

Dazai’s smile sharpens a bit, dark eye flashing playfully, as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking. He leans his head in a bit more, so close that you swear you can count every single individual eyelash, so close that your breath catches when the tip of his nose brushes yours. “Gin-chan is my secretary, I brought her off the streets when she was a child. She’s a sweet girl, I’m sure you’ll get along.”

Oh, you’re so cruel, Dazai Osamu. 

You hate that you instantly feel relieved. 

You hate even more that he definitely notices. 

He leans in a bit closer, your breath hitches, but just when you swear his lips are about to brush yours for the first time, he pulls back to sit up straight again. His cheeks are dusted red, welcome evidence that you’re not the only one who was flustered by his proximity. 

You clear your throat in a desperate attempt to regain some sense of control over yourself and then try to change the subject. “What type of meeting do you have?” you ask curiously, and then immediately amend the question, realizing this is your chance to question him about his job again, “What do you even do?”

Dazai hesitates, just like he did the last time you asked this question. You think he might try to avoid the question again but instead he says, “I took over my… father’s company a few years ago. I’ve been running it since.”

Your eyebrows shoot up a bit, impressed, although you notice how he seems a bit bitter at the mention of his father. “Really?” you ask, surprised. He can’t be much older than you. What was he eighteen, nineteen when he took over? “What type of company?”

“It’s a… sort of conglomerate. We have stakes in a bunch of different industries,” he tells you, dark hair falling in his eyes as he rests his head back against the couch. His eyes don’t leave you once, almost as if he’s drinking in the sight of you, you can’t control the way your heart races beneath his gaze. He reaches out, fingers brushing your skin in a way that makes goosebumps rise, and you can hardly breathe as he fixes the strap of your camisole, you hadn’t even realized it had slipped off your shoulder.

His fingers linger for a moment before he drops his hand back to his lap; you long for his touch again instantly.

“That sounds like a lot of work,” you say quietly, and suddenly Dazai looks a lot older and much more tired, gaze flickering down to his lap. 

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “It is.”

You’re not sure what to say for a moment, so instead, you decide to reach out and grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and squeezing gently. He doesn’t hold your hand back at first, staring at where your hands are connected with a conflicted, unreadable expression, but you don’t let it bother you, holding his hand just a bit tighter before saying: “Well, I’m sure you’re doing a good job.”

He lets out a puff of air, sighing, and then finally, his fingers tighten around yours. 

A bit too tight, but you don’t mind. 

He doesn’t look like he believes you, and you think that’s a bit sad but you’re not sure what else to say, or even if there’s anything else to say. Dazai’s gaze flickers back up to meet yours and you think that you might not be breathing again. You’re hyper aware of his touch, the way his fingers curl around yours, thumb absently rubbing soft circles on the back of your hand. He’s close—you hadn’t realized just how close the two of you had gotten as you spoke. You’re leaning forward and he’s leaning in, both of your heads resting against the back of the couch. 

You could kiss him, the thought rings through your head again. Your throat feels tight, the silence between you is comfortable but tense, as if he can sense the thoughts ricocheting through your head and is battling with his own. He shifts forward a bit more, gaze dropping down to your lips, and you brace yourself, tilting your face up a bit and then-

“Sir?” 

You draw back right away, embarrassed, eyes cutting across the room where a girl with long dark hair stands, cheeks flushed and gray eyes averted up to the ceiling. She’s young, no older than seventeen or eighteen, and dressed in a sleek black suit. Is this Gin?

“Gin-chan.” Dazai confirms your suspicions as he greets the girl easily. “Is something the matter?”

“Chuuya-san is in your office,” Gin says, careful to keep her voice formal despite the way her face is on fire. “The executives have been waiting in the conference room on the thirty-eighth floor for twenty minutes. He says if you don’t come out, he’ll come in here and drag you out.”

Dazai sighs dramatically, eyes sliding shut. “Chuuya always has the worst timing,” he complains, rising to his feet. “Gin-chan, tend to my lovely guest while I’m gone, would you?”

Gin finally turns her gaze on Dazai, a bit surprised. “You don’t want me coming with you, sir?” 

Dazai waves her off. “I’m giving you a more important job. I’ll make the slug take meeting notes. He’ll love that,” he says with an easy smile before looking down at you. “I’ll be back later tonight… wait for me?”

You stare up at him, breathless. You have to force yourself to nod. “Yeah,” you finally agree, voice wavering. “I’ll wait for you.”

The smile he gives you is brilliant, eye shining in a way that puts the night sky to shame.

You think you could stare at it forever. 

His fingers burn. 

Dazai can hardly pay attention to the meeting taking place around him as he stares down at his hand, the ghost of your touch still warming his skin. He feels giddy, his chest light and heart erratic in his chest. You’re upstairs. You’re in his room. You were in his bed this morning. You told him good morning. You came out and joined him on the couch while you were still in your night clothes. You almost kissed him. You almost kissed him. He almost kissed you. He would have, had Gin not showed up. 

God, it was like something out of one of his dreams, one of the vague memories that haunt him when he’s at his lowest. When he’d wake up with wet cheeks and a tight chest, throat thick with aching desire and longing for a life that he never thought he’d have. 

But he has it.

He has it. 

He has you.

“Where is Gin-chan?” Kouyou’s voice tears Dazai from his thoughts. Dazai turns his gaze onto the woman, careful to keep his expression void of any of the emotions coursing through his body. “She is supposed to be attached at your hip, no?”

Dazai tilts his head to the side. “Gin-chan is busy with more important matters,” Dazai says dismissively. 

Kouyou lets out a noise caught between a puff of amusement and shock, covering the lower half of her face with her fan as she watches Dazai with calculating eyes. Dazai wonders if she knows that you’re here, if Chuuya had mentioned anything to her already and this is just a test to see his reaction to her prodding.

“More important matters than the first meeting with all five of your executives in the same place in two years?” Kouyou presses, fanning her fan lightly as she tilts her head to the side. 

“Yes,” is all Dazai says in response, not leaving any more room for conversation on the topic. He sees Chuuya roll his eyes from the corner of his vision, knowing just what Gin is up to.

“What is this meeting about anyway?” Ace suddenly speaks up, looking irate from where he’s sitting at the round table, leg folded over his knee as he looks around the room disdainfully. “This is disturbing my casinos, I had integral meetings with shareholders this morning that I had to reschedule.”

“If your casinos are so easily disrupted, perhaps they’re not quite as valuable as you keep making them out to be.” Piano Man gives Ace a demure smile as he speaks, veiling the venom dripping from his words—the most recently promoted of the five executives has no mercy when it comes to taking digs at the self proclaimed Jewel King. 

Ace’s head snaps in Piano Man’s direction, lips turning down and eyes icy. Dazai wonders curiously if the man would snap something back with Chuuya sitting right next to him—that would be the end of that, Chuuya has always been viciously protective over his Flags. Dazai never liked Ace, knowing that the man is loyal only to himself, but he’s brought in masses of money and information to the Port Mafia. He considers whether or not he should step in, but decides to just watch idly, unsure of if he’s entertained or bored, folding his hands on the table and letting his head fall to the side lazily.

He wants to go back upstairs. Back to you. He’s tired of this already, every day it’s been something new the past few weeks—issues with the military police, issues with low ring organizations that seem to think they can play with the big leagues, issues internally. He wonders what you and Gin might be talking about, and then bitterly, he thinks it should be him sitting up there talking to you.

“This is about the Russians?” Verlaine drawls, looking severely unimpressed with the tension at the round table as he looks between Kouyou, Chuuya and Dazai. “I’ve heard from some of my birds that Nabakov’s men were spotted in the Sakae and Kanagawa wards. Interesting, no?”

Sakae and Kanagawa? 

Dazai suddenly is a lot more attentive to the conversation at hand, if only because your apartment is around those wards. He was already reluctant thinking of letting you go back there, knowing that it’s not the best area in the city, but now? The thought makes his stomach churn, blunt nails digging into the wood of the round tables. 

It’s not an option.

It’s not.

Kouyou raises a parchment between two fingers to show off to the rest of the executives before passing it over to Dazai, who stares at it distastefully for a moment before plucking it from her hand. He scans the words rapidly, lips twisting down into a deep frown the more he reads. 

“What is it?” Chuuya asks impatiently, fingers thrumming on the table as Dazai reads.

“A missive from the Pale Flame,” Kouyou tells him, voice smooth and curious, eyes not leaving Dazai once as she waits for his reaction to it. “Nabokov wishes to personally apologize for not coming to the meeting himself two months ago. He claims that he’s coming to Tokyo to handle an issue regarding one of his major narcotics suppliers in three weeks and wants to host us under the guise of a business event to make amends and prove his dedication to our continuing alliance.”

The war in the mainland is over, the realization hits him hard, like he’s been doused in freezing water and struck with a train all at once. His vision begins to tunnel, just a bit, but enough for him to know he has to pull himself back together before it gets worse, but it’s hard because the implications of that-

“That’s not suspicious at all,” Piano Man sighs whimsically. “Since when does Nabokov care for apologies and amends? The man’s pride goes beyond the heights of the moon.”

“War must be going that badly,” Ace scoffs, amused. “I suppose we chose right in declining their pleas for support.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Piano Man says flippantly, side-eyeing Ace blatantly. 

Ace’s expression twists, but as soon as it does, it smooths out again, and a slow smirk is curling at the edges of his lips. He parts his lips to dole out a side comment and Dazai chooses to tune out the petty arguments, focusing on his own dilemma.

It can’t be a coincidence. Right when he finally starts accepting you into his life, the three way war plaguing the Russian underworld comes to an end and the threat that Dostoevsky poses to you becomes all the more present. Fate, the word haunts him, curses him, he wants to spit in its face but every passing day reminds him that the gods must be laughing down at him. 

Doubt begins to riddle his chest, festering and spreading—should he send you away? Pretend that the past few weeks never happened and send you off to one of your friend’s apartments? But what if someone already saw him with you? If the wrong person saw, and he sent you away, he’d be signing your death sentence himself. 

“What do you think?” Kouyou addresses him, drawing Dazai from his spiraling thoughts.

“The war between Tolstoy, Dostoevsky and Nabokov ended,” Dazai says, staring down at the table as his mind races. “The missive is a declaration of war.”

“Why would Nabokov declare war on us?” Ace asks doubtfully, leaning back in his chair. “For not giving him support?”

“Nabokov is a puppet.” Dazai’s tongue slides against the back of his teeth, trying to piece together what the best course of action to take would be. He’d been sure that the territory wars in Russia would last at least another two to three months. He’s sure that Dostoevsky is behind the missive, he doubts that Tolstoy would make a move into Yokohama, he’d prefer to move west, but he needs confirmation. But if it is Dostoevsky… Why has this timeline sped up so much? Dostoevsky isn’t supposed to officially make a move in Yokohama until after the Guild. The thought is cold and unnerving, he doesn’t like it. He’s been basing all of his plans around his knowledge of the other universes, so why is everything changing suddenly? He turns his attention to Ace and Verlaine, “Find out if Tolstoy or Dostoevsky came out on top.”

He has his suspicions, but he needs it confirmed before he makes any more plans. He has to be careful now, excruciatingly so. He can’t risk anything now that you’re with him and the threat of Dostoevsky has become exceedingly more imminent. However cautious and meticulous he’s been the past seven years, he needs to up it tenfold. He needs Dostoevsky six feet under. He needs Christie six feet under. 

And most importantly, he needs to keep you safe, locked in the ivory tower, ignorant to the looming threats until Dazai has properly handled them.

But to do that, he needs to convince you to stay. 

How is he supposed to do that without setting off alarm bells? 

“What of the business event that we’ve been invited to?” Piano Man asks, white hair falling into his face as he tilts his head to the side. “Do we attend or tell him to shove it?” 

“How eloquent,” Ace digs, but goes silent when Dazai gives him a icy look, no longer in the mood for their petty back and forth. 

“We attend,” Dazai answers, exhaling as he turns his attention to the side, looking out the bulletproof window giving a vast view of the city’s busiest ports. “If it’s under the guise of a business event, there will be plenty of legitimate corporations there to use as shields should things go wrong, but the Russians aren’t stupid enough for that regardless. They won’t spill blood on foreign land in view of people who live in the light, it’s the fastest way for them to get the Special Division or the Hunting Dogs sicced on them. This will be the easiest way to gather information… and to try to take out the mastermind.”

Chuuya does not look happy with Dazai’s declaration, likely already tallying all of the things that could go wrong. It’ll be the easiest way to get to Dostoevsky, yes, but it’ll also be the easiest way for them to get to Dazai. Dazai is not stupid and he knows he has to be especially vigilant now, but no progress will be made unless some gambles are made—Fyodor Dostoevsky is slimy and slippery in every universe, for Dazai to get his hands on the man, he’s going to have to take a few risks. Dazai just has to ensure said risks are minimal, because every risk he takes is a risk to you too. 

God, he feels sick, his head hurts so badly that he thinks he might die. If he was any other version of himself, he could drag himself to you and bury himself in your arms, a surefire way of making the pain disappear. But he’s not any other version of himself—he’s him, and he’s so bitter, because even when he has you, he doesn’t really have you, not in the way that he wants.

“Meeting dismissed,” Dazai says coldly, hardly sparing his executives another look. He’s ready to go back upstairs and be with you, even if he’s not ready to put that mask back on yet, terrified of scaring you away. “Get me the information I asked for.”

There’s a few spattered agreements and farewells. Verlaine, Ace and Piano Man all file out of the conference room. Kouyou and Chuuya stay behind. Dazai’s eyes slide shut, waiting for whatever the two have to say. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Chuuya finally says, voice gruff and Dazai doesn’t have to look at him to know that his fingers are probably digging into his palms in frustration. “Things are about to get bad. Don’t let some girl distract you from what’s important.”

Dazai looks up at Chuuya now, slowly, gaze glacial. If Chuuya were anyone else, he would’ve backed down or apologized, but Chuuya is Chuuya, so he only raises his chin, jaw tightening when he realizes that he pissed off Dazai with that comment. 

You are what’s important, is what Dazai wants to say in your defense. He’s done all of this for you—you and Odasaku, but he bites the words back, resorting instead to turning his gaze to Kouyou, dismissing Chuuya without a word. Chuuya scoffs loudly and then he spins on his heel with a swish of his coat and storms out of the meeting room. 

Dazai tilts his head to the side, daring Kouyou to mention it. The woman only raises her eyebrows, a knowing expression painted on her face, as always. 

“One of my girls got their hands on a Russian suspected of being a member of the House of the Dead,” Kouyou says, fanning her face gently. “We’ve been unsuccessful so far in getting him to reveal any information. It could be useful in figuring out whether Tolstoy or Dostoevsky came out on top.”

Dazai exhales, because of course he can’t go right back to you, when has life ever been so easy for him? He pushes himself to his feet, body on automatic as he makes his way out of the meeting room and toward the elevator. 

It’s fine, he tells himself, he’ll be back to you soon.

He just has to make this fast, and Dazai is never as efficient as he is when he has you as motivation.

Dazai is careful to make sure that no blood stains his face or hands as he leans back against the wall of the elevator. Getting the information out of the rat hadn’t taken too long once he got there, but the following conversation with Kouyou took an eternity. He watches the floors tick upward from the twenty-second floor all the way up to the forty-sixth, back to his penthouse where you’re hopefully still waiting. An irrational fear claws at his chest, that you slipped away and left the building, descending back down into the city that’s quickly threatening to become an imminent warzone. He knows it’s illogical, Gin would have told him if you left so you must still be up there, but a part of him can’t bring himself to believe it.

“I’ll wait for you.”

Your face blends with another version of yourself as he lets his eyes slide shut. The image of his apartment shifting into an unfamiliar hotel room. The atmosphere is much more somber in the hotel room, Dazai feels anxiety swelling in his throat and hope bubbling in his chest no matter how hard he tries to push it away as those very same words ring through his head. In a desperate attempt to sideline the emotions he can’t seem to control, he leans in to press his lips against yours. His own breath catches as the memory floods through him—he can feel the pads of his fingers burning as he pushes you back against the bed, his heart racing as his body hovers above yours, his mind foggy and dizzy as he kisses you so deeply that he think he might die from lack of air to his lungs. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip, his body slides on top of yours, hips slotting between your thighs and then-

Ding. 

His eyes snap back open as he’s forced back to reality, the sharp trill of the elevator drawing him from the maze of the pages just as the doors slide open. He’s hardly able to settle down, sweaty palms wiping at his black jacket and tongue pressing to the roof of his mouth as he steps out of the elevator and into his penthouse, praying he doesn’t look half as frazzled as he feels.

It’s so bright, he thinks to himself, unused to having so much sunlight in his penthouse, usually keeping the windows blacked out just as he does in his office, but he figured you’d find that a bit odd so he made sure to fix it before you woke up in the morning. His gaze drags across the room, and he hates that his pulse spikes when he doesn’t immediately spot you, but it’s only a momentary spike when he realizes that you’re laying on the couch with Gin, some unfamiliar show playing in the background as you waves your arms around, talking rapidly. 

He doesn’t move for a moment, standing there, admiring you—the way your skin glows beneath the sun, the way you smile widely, eyes glittering as you speak. You’re so animated. So alive. Dazai just can’t get used to it. He wonders if this is what his life would be like every day, if you stayed around. Waking up to you in the morning, relaxing with you under the early sun before he goes off to deal with his work, coming home to you waiting for him on the couch. Realistically, he knows it’s not that simple—you have your own goals and dreams and Dazai swore that in this life, he’d make sure you’d achieve them, so you can’t just sit around his penthouse all day until he comes back… but maybe it’s a practical enough to hope for the next few weeks until Dostoevsky is handled. 

But first, he has to make sure you stay here and not try to go off with one of your friends, which will be a trial in itself. He’s not sure how to go about it yet, so he just needs to have faith that it’s not something you bring up right away. 

Gin catches sight of him first, rising to her feet instantly, hands locked behind her back. “Sir,” she greets, nodding her head down a bit in respect. 

You perk up at her words, leaning up to finally catch sight of him, peeking your head over the back of the couch and then raising your hand to wave at him. “Welcome back,” you say with a grin. “How was the meeting?”

Gin bids you a quiet goodbye before making her way out of Dazai’s place back into the office, leaving Dazai alone with you. 

“Agonizing,” he answers truthfully, voice a low drawl as the corner of his lips instinctively curls up at the sight of you. He doesn’t come any closer, leaning back against the wall as you prop yourself up on the back of the sofa to look at him, resting your cheek on your folded arms.

A smile spreads across your face at his words, amused, and he wonders distantly if you would be even half as amused if you knew what the meeting was about or what he had to do afterward. The thought nearly makes his own smile falter, throat spasming. No matter how easily you might’ve accepted him and his past in the other universes, he knows that it won’t be the same in this one because it’s not his past. Not for the first time, he’s viciously jealous of all of his other selves—not only because of their relationship with you, but because they hadn’t needed to go to the depths of hell that he has had to in the name of keeping you and Odasaku safe. 

It’s so hard. Lonely. The other Dazais always liked to insist that they were alone but they weren’t—not really. They always had so many people surrounding them even if they refused to accept it, meanwhile he-

He has nothing. Even now when you’re here, he knows that he’ll never be able to have you as intimately as the other Dazais did. He’ll never be able to open up to you like they did, rely on you like they did. He can’t because of the risk it would bring to the fragile stability of this world. He can’t because if you knew the truth, it would drive you away.

He’s so tired.

He’s not sure what you must see on his face, but your expression falls a bit as you look at him. You push yourself to your feet and he can’t help but notice that you’d changed out of your pajamas into a pair of leggings and a burgundy sweater. He also notices, a bit more dreadfully, that the duffle you’d brought last night is sitting outside his bedroom door, packed. 

“I messaged one of my friends,” you say, voice a bit awkward, a jolt of panic shoots through him, realizing that you are bringing this up right away and he hasn’t had time to figure out how to go about convincing you to stay. “She said I could stay with her until my apartment is fixed, so I won’t be bothering you much longer. Thanks for letting me stay the night.”

Dazai hardly refrains from sighing and letting his eyes slide shut in frustration.

He really can’t get a break. 

“I…” he trails off, unsure of what to say. He could tell you that it’s not a bother, but he doubts you would believe that, and how is he supposed to insist without coming across as shady? He has to try though. “It’s not a bother. You can stay here as long as you want.”

It won’t be enough, and he knows it from the way you immediately shake your head, sitting back on your heels to look at him head on. “I appreciate it, but I don’t want to intrude.”

His mind races as he tries to figure out what to say but it’s hard to think with dark talons pulling at his brain, images of you flashing before his eyes—limp in his arms as he tries to shake you awake (futile, your skin was already cold when he got back from work), unmoving on the floor of your apartment as he stands at the door (he’d only stepped outside for a moment), the fear in your eyes as you topple back over the side of the roof (he can’t get to you in time. he never can.)

“It’s no intrusion… Truthfully, it gets a bit lonely here on my own,” Dazai finally admits, his voice sounds faraway to his own ears as he struggles to ground himself from the foreign memories, he hopes it doesn’t come across that way to you. He can see your face shift a bit at his words, brows furrowing and lips turning downward—not pity, thankfully because he hates pity, but more so understanding. Hooked, he realizes and then deals what will hopefully be the final blow: “I really wouldn’t mind the company.”

Your lips part to say something but no words leave them. You stare at him for a moment, looking between your duffle and your phone and then back to him. He waits, breathless, because he doesn’t know what he’s going to do if you say no, if you insist on leaving. He can’t let you leave, not until the threats have been dealt with, he refuses to sign your execution warrant—he can live with you hating him, even if the thought makes him sick, he can’t live in a world without you.

Finally, you give him a smile.

“I mean, it would definitely be easier getting my work done here than in her cramped apartment, it’s hardly big enough for her and her boyfriend, much less me on top of that,” you say with a laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “If you’re sure…”

Dazai has to physically restrain himself from letting out a sigh of relief. 

“I’m sure,” he murmurs. 

You light up and then look back at the television. “Well, I found a few movies I want to watch, if you’re up for it?” you ask with a hesitant smile. 

Dazai gives you a soft, matching smile. “I’d love to.”

Oh, god, how did you end up like this?

You can hardly breathe properly, legs tossed over Dazai’s lap, head resting on his shoulder, his arm curled around you. The movie is still playing in the background but you’re hardly following the plot anymore, too focused on the feeling of Dazai’s thumb rubbing idle circles over your hip. You don’t even know if he’s aware he’s doing it, but it has your entire attention—your heart is racing, you’re sure he must be able to feel it, he’s just being courteous in not mentioning it, and your body feels hot. Every now and then, his thumb dips a bit lower and you swear he must know what he’s doing but he’s barely sparing you a glance, engrossed with the movie playing on the disgustingly large television mounted on his wall. 

The movie that you had been excited to watch but now can’t even recall what the plot is. 

And it’s so odd. You don’t like cuddling. Or, you thought you didn’t like cuddling. Whenever your past partners tried to cuddle up next to you to watch a movie, or at night before bed, you’d grimace and try to subtly shift away, but now? You’re leaning into him, you find comfort in the arm draped around you and the fingers drawing absent patterns on your hip, you find warmth in the way your body is tucked against his. 

It’s absurd, you think, why is he so different from everyone else? 

Your friends think you’re crazy. When you texted one of them to ask for a place to stay until your apartment is fixed, and then abruptly said nevermind because Dazai offered to let you stay at his, you were hit with five calls in a row and a spam of texts ranging from: “wym ur staying with that random guy you met at a bar two months ago???” to “girl ur crazy, this is stranger danger 101. you were literally just complaining about how you know NOTHING about this man. i am NOT coming to ur funeral.”

The last one is a lie, Kei would come to your funeral and she’d cry like a baby while stuttering through the eulogy, but it’s no issue because there won’t be a funeral. Regardless, you still shut your phone off because the vibrations were getting irritating, but now, you kind of wished you still had your phone to peek at because you can’t focus on the movie and you need something to distract you from Dazai’s touch otherwise you’re bound to make a complete fool out of yourself. 

You spare a look up at him—just a quick glimpse, but it proves to be a fatal mistake. 

He’s already looking at you.

There’s a fond expression on his face, a warm look in his eye. When he realizes you’ve caught him, his lips tilt upward and he says, “You haven’t been watching the movie.”

A soft accusation. Teasing. It leaves you a bit flustered. You want to look away but you can’t bring yourself to. 

“Guilty,” you manage to get out, giving him a sheepish smile.

“I thought you wanted to watch it.” His voice is so soft and light that it makes goosebumps rise to your skin. He keeps his tone low so as to not disturb the atmosphere between the two of you, and it only serves to further the yearning you feel for him, eyes darting down to his lips as he speaks. His gaze sharpens a bit, pupil dilating when he notices where your eyes had tracked down to. Your mouth dries.

“I did,” you whisper, leaving the implication in the air that something far more interesting has caught your attention, breath catching as your eyes lift back to his, wishing that you could know what he’s thinking. You can see his mind racing, as if he’s fighting with himself about something and then-

And then he kisses you. 

He leans in just enough to brush his lips against yours, brief and hesitant, as if he’s just testing the waters. And it’s electrifying, you don’t think you’ve ever felt anything quite like it. Every other kiss you’ve had pales in comparison to the faintest brush of his lips to yours. His eye searches your face as soon as he pulls back, as if to make sure you’re okay with this; you can see the hint of something edging on desperation as his gaze flits back and forth between your eyes. He wants to know you’re okay with this, needs to know. 

You don’t waste a second as you lean forward, hand coming up to cup the side of his neck as you press your lips against his. You don’t have the same hesitancy that he does, heart thudding in your chest as your fingers intertwine with the curls at the nape of his neck, your body flush to his. His lips are chapped, but you don’t mind—it feels familiar somehow, almost comforting. You can feel the rough material of his bandages brushing your cheek but you only press closer. He tastes like fine whiskey and faintly of iron, a strange combination but you can’t get enough of it. 

He’s still hesitant, you can feel it in the slow way he kisses you. His fingers twitch from where they’re resting on his lap, as if he’s itching to reach out and touch you but doesn’t know if he should. Your hand slides up from his neck to the back of his head to pull him impossibly closer, tongue darting out to drag against his bottom lip, and that seems to be all of the push he needs. 

His hand comes to rest on your waist, fingers biting a bit too deeply into your skin but you don’t mind. One swift motion and he’s laying you back against the cushions, body sliding on top of yours, his other hand shifting upward, large palm cupping your cheeks as he tilts your head back to deepen the kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, you let out a soft, pleased sigh into his mouth when you feel his tongue tracing your inner lip. 

You think you could kiss him forever, you realize, heat pooling in your stomach and a fluttery feeling spreading through your chest. The hand on your waist slides down a bit to your thigh and your breath hitches when he parts them just enough for him to slot his hips between them, and god, you want him. 

You think your heart might fly out of your chest, and you don’t know why you’re so nervous. You have casual sex all the time to relieve stress but nothing about this feels casual, it feels so intimate; you let out a shaky breath as Dazai’s lips drag from yours to kiss the corner of your mouth, trailing down to your jaw, nipping at the spot behind your ear that always makes you shudder (god, how does he know your body so well already? it’s unfair, you might die), tongue tracing the underside of your jaw lightly, he kisses down your neck, teeth ghosting your pulse point and one of your legs instinctively hooks around his waist, dragging his body closer until you can feel him pressed up against you and-

A screech comes from the television. 

You jolt, he jolts, both of you startled, having forgotten that the movie was even playing in the background, too lost in the feeling of one another. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to reorient yourself, leg slipping from his waist to rest back down on the couch.

The moment is ruined, naturally, all too hyper aware of the scene playing in the background and embarrassed by how quickly that had escalated. Dazai’s cheeks are dusted red as he shifts off of you back into a sitting position, and his lips are wet and swollen, and so very tempting.

You want to kiss him again, so you do. 

You sit up and cup his cheek to tilt his face in your direction, pressing your lips to his in a short and sweet kiss. You smile against his lips before pulling back and tucking yourself back into his side, gaze focusing back on the movie.

He lets out a puff of air that sounds distinctly close to a laugh before he wraps his arm back around you, warm and comforting, casual, as if it’s something he’s done a thousand times before, and you think Kei can suck it, because you’re starting to think that the ‘random stranger at the bar’ might become the best decision of your life.

A few days later, you’re stretching on a yoga mat looking out down upon the vast city below, Akutagawa Gin is sat pretty on a barstool next to where you’re stretching, one leg crossed over her knee, rapidly tapping at her phone as she finishes up some emails for Dazai, who’s god knows where dealing with whatever business Dazai Osamu deals with. 

“It’s a bit weird that they’re taking so long to fix my apartment, isn’t it?” you ask absently, grimacing as you shift into a pose that pulls at all of the wrong muscles. “Usually it doesn’t take more than a day or two.”

You still don’t really know what Dazai’s company is, you were only able to find vague scraps online about the Mori Corporation: a massive, affluent conglomerate that formed seven years ago. Apparently, it has a hand in just about every industry from technology to shipping, so you suppose it makes sense that Dazai is hardly ever around, but you’re finding yourself increasingly bored. There’s only so much time you can spend in the same apartment, no matter how big or fancy it may be. The days have been incredibly repetitive with Dazai leaving for his work meetings, you relaxing and getting some of your work done, talking to Gin, and then Dazai coming back late at night.

“You’re probably not the only apartment that had a leak,” Gin says, astute as always. “Your landlord might just be getting to the others first, and if they’re half as bad as yours was, it’ll probably take a bit.”

You scowl. “It would be just like him to leave me for last,” you say, half to yourself as you sit back on your heels, looking over at Gin. “I swear this man has had something out for me since I moved in. Did I tell you about the time he took three weeks to get back to me about a work order I put in for my sink? Three weeks. I had to wash all of my dishes at my neighbor’s place. How embarrassing is that?” 

Gin looks amused, gray eyes lifting from her phone to look down at you from where she’s sitting. “Multiple times, in fact.”

“Well, I’m going to tell you again,” you say matter-of-factly before launching into a tirade that you can recite word for word in your sleep from how often you’ve vented about it to people over the past two years. In your defense, it was absolutely ridiculous, it never should’ve taken that long, but you digress. 

You like Gin, you decide as she listens intently to the same rant she’s heard at least three times over the past week, nodding along and adding supportive commentary when necessary. Well, you decided you liked her the first time you met her, but you’re just reaffirming it now. For as formal and professional she is, she always gets a certain gleam in her eye when she talks to you, and you can actually see her for the eighteen year old she is, rather than just as the secretary of the boss of one of the biggest corporations in Japan. 

You think she likes you too, you muse as you finish off your rant and go back to laying like a starfish on the yoga mat, not in the mood to do any more stretching. She always lights up a bit whenever Dazai tells her to spend the day with you instead of following him around. You’re not sure why he does it, you figure he’s probably making things harder on himself by not having her around, but you’re not going to complain because you think you’d go crazy with no one to talk to.

But even if she does like you, she’s still not very forward with information about Dazai and the Mori Corporation. She tends to change the topic whenever you bring it up, or sometimes she just gives you that look, the one that tells you that she isn’t going to say anything about it. You think it’s a bit weird that they’re so secretive about it, but you suppose she just doesn’t want to speak on behalf of Dazai when you ask about him, and the whole secrecy about the business probably has to do with trade secrets or something

Although you don’t really think you’re asking questions that could even scarcely tap into trade secrets, but you think that maybe they’re just paranoid. Probably for good reason if the business is half as influential and lucrative as the few things you’ve found online claim it is, but still, knowing that doesn’t make you any less curious.

“Hey, Gin-chan.” You decide to get an early start on today’s attempt to whittle information out of the girl. When she looks at you questioningly, you turn your head to the side to look at her. “Is Dazai okay?”

Gin looks a bit startled by your question, but you only wait for an answer. You think he must be having trouble with something regarding his business because every day he comes back to his place later and more stressed, you can see it in his face when he walks in, the dullness in his eye and the way he can hardly cover it up before you catch sight of him. You don’t know why he’s so intent on hiding the exhaustion from you but you wish he wouldn’t. 

“Why do you ask?” Gin questions carefully, as if she doesn’t know how to answer the question which pretty much confirms that something is wrong. 

“I figure he must be having trouble with something in his company,” you say absently, watching Gin blink in surprise, another confirmation that you might be onto something. “He comes back to the penthouse later every day, and more tired. And even when he’s here, he spends most of the time on his phone unless he turns it off. You’ve been on your phone more often the past two days too, so I figure it’s connected.”

Gin hesitates and then she says, “We are… having difficulty with a rival company,” she finally says, and you sit up to look up at her again, leaning back on your hands. “They are trying to push us out of some key industries in Tokyo and Yokohama. Their… CEO is hosting an event in two weeks that we’re supposed to be attending, along with many of our subsidiaries. We’ve been trying to prepare for it while dealing with some other internal issues. He’s probably just… drained.”

This time, you hesitate, a lump forming in your throat as her words register because how fucked up is it that he’s so drained from work and then has to come back to his penthouse and entertain you? Guilt swells in your chest, you don’t even know where he’s been sleeping because he’s been so dead set on you taking the bed that he won’t even hear your arguments on it.

“Should I… go stay with my friend then?” you ask hesitantly, and when Gin gives you a half-alarmed, half-concerned look, you elaborate: “I just… feel bad, I guess. That he’s dealing with so much work and can’t even have a space to decompress when he finishes because I’m here.”

Gin says your name with so much humor that you’re almost insulted, but there’s a glitter in her eyes as she looks at you, so any complaint you have promptly dies. “Being with you is decompressing to him,” she says quietly, and though warmth spreads through you at the words, you’re still doubtful.

“I don’t know,” you say, unconvinced. “I see the way he tries to hide how exhausted he is whenever he sees me. He shouldn’t have to put in so much effort to mask himself in his home just because I’m here.”

Gin doesn’t respond for a moment, gaze flickering down to the floor, but when she speaks, her voice is soft.

“He’s always so lonely,” she says, more to herself than anything else, but then she raises her eyes to meet yours, “no matter how many people are around him, he’s always so cut off from everyone, refusing to let anyone get close… except when he’s with you. In all of the years that I’ve known him, I’ve only ever seen him happy when he’s with you.”

You stare at Gin, lips parted to respond but no words leave them. 

Instead, Gin continues, “He… had to step up at a very young age. He was sixteen when he found me in Suribachi and even back then he was just so… empty. I’ve never seen him actually acting his age except when he’s with you, or talking about you. So-”

Gin is interrupted abruptly by her phone ringing. She looks down and gives you an apologetic look before answering the call and wandering off to the other room, leaving you to your thoughts. Your throat still feels swollen, but with a far more pleasant emotion now. A small smile tugs at the edges of your lips, hand pressed to your chest as if you can physically slow the erratic pace of your heart. Your face feels warm and a giggle slips from your lips as you flop back down to the yoga mat, staring up at the ceiling.

Or, well, it’s not entirely pleasant. A heavier feeling settles on your chest as Gin’s words about what Dazai used to be like—still is like, whenever you’re not around—process through your head. It’s not like you didn’t have any sort of inkling about it, you’ve known that there’s more than meets the eye about Dazai Osamu since the first night you met him, and the past week you’ve spent with him only has made you more sure of it. His mind drifts off so often, eyes faraway and expression so vacant that sometimes it takes a few tries for you to get him to come back to you. 

You don’t mind, but it does make you sad to know that he’s been like this for as long as Gin has known him, and since the only time she’s ever seen him even partially happy is when he’s with you, you can’t help but wonder how many years he spent depressed and isolated. And you’re realizing, a bit scared, that you’re starting to care for Dazai a lot because the first thought that crosses your mind is that you wish you’d met him sooner so he didn’t have to spend all of this time alone. 

You sit up straight, alarmed by your own thoughts, because yes, you’re enamored by Dazai and you have been since you met him almost two months ago, but you didn’t think you were falling for him yet—not like that at least. It’s absurd, you still hardly know much about his personal life. You don’t know about his family besides for the fact he took over his father’s company, you don’t know anything about said company besides the scraps you found online but… but you remember the way he kisses you gently, and the way his expression always softens when his gaze falls on you, and the way whenever you speak, he’s always giving you his full attention no matter how inane the topic might be, willing to listen to you ramble on about all of the books you’ve read and gossip with you about your ex-coworkers and drama happening in your friend group and-

Oh.

Oh.

Yeah. You might be falling for him.

Your hand rises to your lips, mind racing and spiraling all at the same time and you realize that you really, really need fresh air. Promptly, you remember that you’d meant to ask Gin to order some groceries because Dazai’s kitchen is about as bare as his bedroom, and you’ve been craving some specific snacks anyway; you also wanted to have her order some actual food so you can make something to try to make Dazai eat more because you’ve noticed he doesn’t eat all too much and you don’t think that’s very healthy considering how much stress he’s under. You’re not the best at cooking, but you can make do and just pray that he likes it. 

A perfect excuse. You’ll run out and grab some groceries, maybe take a walk in the nearby park to clear your thoughts and come to terms with the realization you’d just come to, and then come back and do something nice for Dazai.

Decision made, you bound over to the door Gin disappeared into so you can let her know where you’re heading, but when you peek your head into Dazai’s office, you see Gin in deep conversation with someone over the phone, brows creased and frown on her lips as she stares down at some of the paperwork on Dazai’s desk. She looks distinctly frustrated and slightly distressed, so you decide not to bother her. Instead, you just close the door quietly and make your way over to the elevator, stepping inside when it finally reaches the top floor and pressing the button for the lobby.

You won’t be long anyway, you doubt she’ll even notice you’re gone.

The elevator dings as it reaches the first floor of the massive building and you adjust your purse over your shoulder as you step into the lobby—it’s massive and bustling with dozens of people. You haven’t been back down here since he brought you here a few days ago, and you’d been too exhausted to really be able to gather your bearings, plus it had been the middle of the night and not as many people had been around. 

You’re hardly able to peek around for half a minute before someone runs into you. 

You let out a quiet yelp, startled, blinking as your gaze focuses on the man who’d bumped into you. He’s a bit on the short side with fair skin and light freckles dotting his nose and cheeks, bi-colored eyes—one brown and the other blue—narrowed as he studies you. He’s pretty, you think. Not quite as pretty as Dazai, but definitely attractive. Or he would be, if he wasn’t staring at you with such an unpleasant expression. 

You half-think he’s about to demand that you apologize even though he’s the one who bumped into you, and you think if he does, you’re going to have serious problems with him, but instead, a vague recognition flashes through his eyes as he finally speaks. Although, you can’t help but notice he still is looking at you with distinct displeasure even after recognizing you.

“You’re the girl that’s been living up with the boss,” the man says, his voice is cool and guarded and you feel a bit uncomfortable under his stare. You’ve always been particularly good at reading people, and you can tell at first glance that he does not want you here. “Where are you going?”

You don’t know why it’s any of his business, but you say: “Out. I’ve been cooped up for almost a week. Plus, I don’t know how Dazai feeds himself, he has literally no food in his place.”

“Does he know you’re going out?” he asks, eyes narrowing onto you as he tilts his head to the side. 

You bristle, not liking his tone. “He’s not my keeper.”

“No, but he’s gone out of his way to give you a place to stay when he didn’t have to. The least you can do is let him know when you’re going in and out.” The man matches your sharp tone with his own and you wither a bit, because he’s right, even if he is being a bit of an ass about it.

“Gin-chan was busy,” you mutter. “I’ll text him.”

The man lets out a sigh of what can only be utter suffering, lifting his head to look up to the ceiling as if asking a higher deity ‘why me?’ You have no idea what’s going through his head, and you just want to slip out of the building and drink in some fresh air and sunlight, but the last thing you expect is for him to look back at you and ask:

“Want company?”

You blink, wondering if he’s fucking with you, but he only stares at you, expression flat as he waits for a response. 

“I-” You’re about to say no, you aren’t particularly looking for company, but then you realize that this might be a chance to try to gather some more information about Dazai. You quickly amend to a: “Yeah, sure… What’s your name anyway?”

“Nakahara Chuuya,” he tells you, voice a bit brusque. “Just call me Chuuya.”

Dazai comes home to an empty penthouse.

For a moment, he doesn’t react. The unconscious smile that had begun to curve to his lips while taking the elevator back up to the top floor of the headquarters falls instantly as his dark gaze sweeps across the room that you’re usually lounging in with Gin only to find it eerily silent, void of the laughter he’d become desperately used to the past few days. 

He doesn’t let the panic hit right away, not even bothering to slide his coat off before making his way over to his bedroom, wondering if you’d decided to take a nap. He very much does feel a distinct spike in his heart rate when you’re not in there either. He stands there for a moment—Gin is still up here, she would have called down if she had to leave, so where are you?

Where are you?

Dazai suddenly feels sick to his stomach, a bit dizzy on his feet.

 Did you leave? 

Why did you leave? 

Did you go into his office? Find something implicating his position in the Port Mafia? 

Or did you just get sick of staying in the same place so many days in the row? Why wouldn’t you tell him if that were the case? 

Maybe you were just sick of him. 

His vision spins a bit, he presses his hand against the frame of his bedroom door to steady himself. Stop it, he tells himself, inhaling deeply once to try to get his head back on straight. But he can’t, he can feel numbness spreading through his chest viciously at the thought of you leaving. The void returns with a vengeance, consuming him entirely, and it’s only the thought of the chance of you being in danger out there alone that pushes him forward. He needs Gin to tell him what the fuck is going on. 

What does he do if you left on your own voilition? 

Dazai’s head is not sitting on his shoulders properly. It can’t be. Everything looks wrong, everything feels wrong. His hand drops down to his side, resorting back to the technique he had to use before he met you—he steadily taps your name against his thigh as he forces himself to walk across the room to his office, to where Gin must be, to get some answers. But even your name isn’t enough to keep him grounded. 

He’s holding you in his arms. You’re so cold. There’s blood everywhere. They’re telling him to let you go. He can’t. He never can. 

He’s reaching out to you, desperately trying to grab your hand before you topple over the side of the roof. He never makes it. 

He has to make a choice. A life for a life. He always chooses to save you. It doesn’t matter—they always kill you anyway. 

Nausea builds in his throat, he forces it back down, and when he opens the door to his office it’s a bit too aggressive. Gin’s head snaps up from where she was working at Dazai’s desk, flipping through papers with creased brows as she tries to put together the list of suspects. She stands up instantly at the sight of him, lips parting to greet him. He doesn’t let her.

“Where is she?” 

The words come out cold and cutting, a far cry from the awful emotions wreaking havoc on his chest and mind. To his absolute distress, Gin only looks confused at his words, lowering the phone and bidding goodbye to who he can only assume is Kouyou as she asks: 

“... What do you mean?” 

Fuck. Dazai takes a step back out of his office, back into the living room of his penthouse. His head feels all hazy, his vision starts spinning more. Fuck. You had to have left on your own. There’s no way anyone is getting all the way up to the top floor through all of the guards, and if they did, they wouldn’t leave Gin alive. Fuck. 

Where did you go?

There’s blood. Too much blood. Or is it water? He’s dragging you out of the water. And then his fingers are meeting air, the tips of his fingers just barely scraping yours before you plummet down, down, down. 

Why the fuck did no one say anything to him?

He can hear Gin talking, but her words go in one ear out the other. Dazai pulls out his phone, double, triple, quadruple checking to make sure he got no messages. None from you (his chest hurts). None from either of the Black Lizard captains. None from Atsushi. None from Kyouka. None from Chuuya. All people who should have feasibly noticed you leaving the headquarters. 

Dazai has never done well with emotions, negative or positive, but he thinks fear is the worst of all and he’s been plagued with it since the moment he’s come in contact with the Book. Fear of the future, fear of making a mistake, fear of fate. 

Fear is the mind-killer. The quote rings through his head over and over again, damning and true. It’s the one emotion that paralyzes him, puts him into a state that makes him incapable of making decisions. Fear of one thing turns into fear of another—it’s a ceaseless cycle, and a ruinous one. Fear of you leaving him turns into fear of you being vulnerable and then to fear of you being targeted and then to fear of you being dead, and already he can feel numbness spreading from his chest to his limbs. He thinks he feels Gin touch his arm but he can’t even turn his head to look. 

So he does the only thing he knows how to do: he channels it into something else. He funnels the fear into something more familiar, something more welcome. 

First, it turns into frustration—another emotion capable of incapacitation, but one that’s far more manageable. He jerks away from Gin, grip tightening on his phone as he paces back across the room. His thoughts begin to race, a red fog clouding his mind as he wonders why the fuck no one told him that you left, and if no one knows that you left, then Dazai is going to have to have serious fucking words with all of the security details posted throughout the building because that sort of laxness is not acceptable.

He doesn’t even know who he should message. Atsushi? The boy might close in on himself and shut down for failure and Dazai cannot afford to deal with that. Chuuya? Not an option, Chuuya would be the last person to go to about you seeing how often he actively expresses his distaste for your presence in the building, Dazai doesn’t want to give him more ammunition about you. Hirotsu? Might be the best option, the Black Lizards are quick and efficient, they’ll be able to track you down fast, but if he sends the Black Lizards he needs to figure out what he’s going to do.

What is he going to do?

God, he doesn’t know. The red starts to tint blue as a helpless feeling sweeps over him. He doesn’t know what to do. You left on your own, he doesn’t know why and he doesn’t know if you have any intentions on coming back. He doesn’t know what to do if you don’t plan on coming back. His whole reasoning behind the decision to indulge in you was centered on the fact that he could protect you in this lifetime, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep you in the ivory tower forever but he hoped he’d at least have a little longer to try to figure out a plan.

And the fact that you didn’t even tell him that you were leaving doesn’t bode well—again, the fleeting, anxiety-inducing thought of you stumbling upon something that you shouldn’t have crosses through his head but he pushes it away. Maybe you left because you were bored, because he wasn’t around and Gin was busy, he can try to fix that. He can fix that. Maybe he’ll even convince you to come back.

But if he can’t…

He has two options: 

He can put protection details on you, it would be an extension of Port Mafia resources that will face a lot of push back from his executives considering they’re approaching a gang war with the now united forces of Dostoevsky, Nabokov and Tolstoy, but he doesn’t give a fuck about what his executives think, you and Odasaku are the only things that matter in this universe so he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe. But regardless of what his executives think, the main issue with this option is that your safety is not guaranteed. It’ll only take one slip up for your life to be forfeit and for everything that Dazai has built and sacrificed to be flushed down the drain. 

That leaves option two. Forcing you to stay in the tower. Locking you up until he can ensure that there are no more threats to you (there may always be threats to you). You’d hate him, surely, and is he capable of living in a universe where you hate him? He has to be, if it means your safety. But that isn’t the life that he wants for you. He wants you to live, achieve all of the dreams you were never able to in all of the other universes, you can’t do that if you’re locked up.

Dazai feels sick. Regret starts to churn his stomach. He never should have approached you. He never should have indulged. He never should have convinced himself that he could keep you safe because he can’t. It’s fate. Fate. Fate.

The word twists the cloud fogging his vision, the ugly color that formed of the mixed blues and reds turns darker, until an inky black is creeping into his vision. Fate, he hates the word, he hates the inevitability, he hates himself for dancing right along with the strings that have been placed on him by the cruel gods above, even when he knew what would happen if he did. The weight of the gun hidden in his jacket starts to weigh all the more heavily, his fingers twitch toward it, desperate to feel the familiar weight of it in his hand. And then-

And then the elevator dings. 

Dazai’s gaze cuts to the side, sharp and cold, and it’s only when the elevator doors slide open and your pretty laugh rings through the air that Dazai’s world is finally set straight again. The color returns, the numbness disappears, the void is pushed away for another day. His eyes land on you, and the bright smile painted on your lips as you bound back into his penthouse.

“You’re back early!” you say, delighted, and Dazai can only hope and pray that you can’t tell how badly he’s spiraled because you weren’t around. He thinks you can, of course you can, because your smile falters a bit but then it brightens again as you make your way over to him and-

Oh.

All of the tension in his body melts away as you make your way over to him with a skip in your step and lean up on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Dazai lets out a breath, too sharp and too shaky for you to not notice with how close you are to his face, but he can hardly bring himself to care as he brings trembling hands to wrap around your waist. He basks in the feeling of your warmth and if any of the numbness had threatened to linger, it’s certainly gone now as he calms himself down by setting his heart in pace with yours as he feels it thump steadily against his chest.

“Where did you go?” His voice is hoarse, as much as he tries to make the question seem light.

“You have no food, Dazai,” you complain, and you don’t seem to care that he’s definitely hugging you for a bit too long, propping your chin on his chest to look up at him. “Plus, as fancy as your penthouse is, I can’t sit around in the same place for days. I wanted to go out on a walk. So I ran to the store to pick up some groceries. I thought I’d make it back before you, I wanted to try to make something for dinner. I saw a pasta recipe while I was scrolling through Instagram that I want to try out, although I should probably test it out on my own before feeding you any. It usually takes me a few tries to get a recipe down and the first few attempts are more akin to toxic waste than actual food…”

You ramble, probably because you can tell how out of it he is and it’s scary how easily you can see through him because he thinks it’s only a matter of time before you see through to what he really is. But for now, he lets his eyes slide shut as he loses himself in your voice, and he feels silly for thinking that you would leave without saying anything.

He knows you better than anyone else in the world. Anyone else in any world. Maybe even better than you yourself. He should have known better. You would never do that, no matter what you learn about him, no matter what he does. It’s not who you are—you’re always so stringent on communication, you can’t sleep until an argument is settled properly. It’s something he’s hated in other universes, because he’s flighty and can’t handle confrontation, but he thinks it’s something that he should rely on in this one, because he knows that no matter what you might learn, you’ll always sit down to give him the chance of a proper conversation rather than just ghosting him. 

He spiraled for nothing.

He’s not drawn back to the present until he hears:

“... and Chuuya is so cool, by the way. Why didn’t you introduce me to him sooner? He has an ability, I’ve never met an ability user before. I made him carry all of the groceries, and he did it like it was nothing. Gravity manipulation? Did you know in undergrad, I wanted to major in physics—I tried to actually, but had to drop 101 because apparently my brain is not cut out for the sciences. Or mathematics. It was kind of embarrassing actually, who has to drop out of a 101 class?” 

In your spiel, only one word—one name—matters. His eyes reopen, he makes sure to keep his body lax in your arms as you lean against him so you can’t feel his sudden shift in mood. His gaze is cold and cutting again, lifting from you to behind you, where he finally lays his eyes upon the person with you.

Chuuya stands there, dozens of grocery bags hanging off his arms, a faint red glow around each of them signaling that he’s using his ability. Dazai’s expression is lethal as he stares at his executive, but Chuuya’s lip only curls up in a half-snarl, as if daring Dazai to say anything, before he makes his way out of the elevator to bring the grocery bags into his kitchen. 

And Dazai can’t say anything, not this time, because he’s already figured out what happened: you must have tried to leave on your own when Gin was busy because you were bored, and Chuuya ran into you and tagged along so you wouldn’t be defenseless should someone target you to get to him, in spite of how he feels about you and your presence in the building. 

Dazai bites his tongue, for once, and instead focuses back down at you. His expression softens when he catches you looking up at him, curious, and he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You should have texted me,” he murmurs. “I would’ve told you I had a quick day today, we could’ve gone together.”

Your expression twists a bit in irritation. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“I did text you,” you say, indignant, and Dazai’s brows furrow and you immediately draw back to pull out your phone. He misses your warmth instantly, but forces away the longing. Your lips part a bit as you look down at the screen, a sheepish expression on your face as you say: “... I thought I texted you, evidently, it did not go through.”

Dazai lets out a puff of air, half-amusement, half-disbelief, because of course it was a matter of miscommunication, and he thinks again that he should have known better. Logically, what he assumed was so unlikely that it shouldn’t have even crossed his mind, but evidently, you turning him into an illogical and emotional fool is something universal across all of the different worlds.

But he still remembers the one fleeting thought he had earlier—that you were bored, and probably lonely sitting up here all day, especially when Gin is busy dealing with Port Mafia matters. This is bound to happen again, and next time, he might not be lucky enough to have someone catch you slipping out of the building. 

So, he’ll have to do something about it himself, make sure you’re not bored enough to leave the building and unwittingly place yourself in danger, he decides, pleased. 

“Would you…” Dazai hesitates as he looks down at you, uncharacteristically nervous. You tilt your head to the side curiously. “Would you want to go on a date with me tomorrow?” 

A smile splits across your face. 

“Is that even a question?” 

Dazai’s woken up by someone shaking his shoulder. 

Realistically, he knows that no enemy is able to make it to the top level of the Port Mafia’s most well-protected tower—it’s impenetrable, if the masses of armed guards on the lower floors aren’t enough to keep out intruders, then the Black Lizards on the middle floors would be more than enough, and if even they aren’t, Atsushi and Chuuya are stationed on the higher floors, ready to jump into action at a moment’s notice. Still, he’s startled, unsure of who would be in his office waking him up at this time and caught off guard because he hadn’t even meant to fall asleep, so instinctively, he’s reaching for the gun hidden at his side, eyes a bit wild as he jolts up, trying to figure out what’s going on.

“Sorry.” He only settles down when he hears your voice coming from his side, apologetic and little over a whisper as to not alarm him anymore than he already is. Instantly, his fingers loosen around the grip of his gun, a lump in his throat when he realizes that he almost pulled a gun on you. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Dazai shakes his head as soon as your words process, still trying to gather his bearings. He’s in his office, he must’ve fell asleep while looking over paperwork at his desk—plans for the upcoming event hosted by Nabokov, and a list of all of the possible informants that could be leaking information to Dostoevsky’s rats because one too many of the Port Mafia’s warehouse’s have been raided by the military police in the past few weeks for Dazai to be comfortable with, and he knows Dostoevsky is behind it because the man has been leaving little clues like it’s some sort of game to him. Dazai thinks that they should just kill all of the suspects and be done with it—if someone is even being suspected of having betrayed the Port Mafia, then they’re doing something severely wrong, but Kouyou advised him to go about this the right way. 

Subtly, so as to not draw your attention, he shifts to cover the papers and then gives you his full attention, curious as to what you’re doing up so early because the sun hasn’t even risen yet. He’s been trying to make sure that he wakes up before you so that you don’t come looking for him in here, knowing where this is the most likely place where you’d stumble upon something that incriminates him as a mafioso rather than a businessman. 

“You didn’t,” he lies through his teeth, voice a bit hoarse from sleep. “Is something wrong?”

You’re still dressed in your pajamas, but you have a fluffy rube wrapped around you and a soft smile on your face that makes Dazai’s chest swell. Your eyes are bright, gleaming with a type of excitement that has him tilting his head in curiosity, waiting to see what you have to say.

“Do you have access to the roof of the building?” you ask him, voice still hushed but tinged with more enthusiasm. When he nods, a smile splits across your face. “Can we go up there?”

Dazai doesn’t have the willpower to deny you anything, so there’s no hesitation as he says: “Of course.” But then as he rises to his feet, pulling on his long, black coat that he’d shrugged off at some point last night, he looks at you and asks, “Why?”

“I like watching sunrises,” you say, bounding over to the elevator and waiting for him to follow. He does, of course. He would follow you anywhere. Everywhere. He dreads the day you go somewhere he can’t follow. It’s inevitable—he doesn’t believe in the existence of heaven, but if there is one, you would go there, and he won’t. There’s too much blood on his hands, staining his skin no matter how much he scrubs it raw, and the blood that runs within him is black and corrupted, beyond any type of remedy. “I want to see one from the highest point in the city.”

Oh. Dazai’s heart leaps to his throat when he realizes what’s about to happen, pulling his access key from his pocket and swiping it against the pad to allow access to the roof. Some things differ across all of the universes: the way you meet him (although you’re always the one to find him), the way you die (he always finds you though), sometimes it takes a while for the two of you to progress past the friends stage, but it’s usually not too long. 

Everything varies except for one thing: the sunrises. In every universe, you have an obsession with them: you like watching them, seeing as many new ones as you possibly can. You explained to him once that it was because it helps you move forward, gives you hope, a reason to wake up each morning. The infatuation with them began after your brother’s death in the other universes when you couldn’t find any reason to keep going on your own so you sought one out in the sunrises—although this is something you only opened up to him about in one universe, in all of the others, you’ve hidden your past struggles with depression from him. He’s not sure why, maybe just because you don’t want to burden him with them. 

It would be just like you, trying to share the weight of all of his burdens but shouldering yours on your own.

He wonders if you’ll tell him in this one. He wonders what made that universe’s Dazai so special. He feels viciously jealous and for a moment, irrationally hates his other self, only finding solace in the fact that all of the other Dazais would probably feel just as scorned over the fact that only one of them got special treatment. 

He thinks you can sense the deterioration of his thoughts, because you reach out and lace your fingers with his as you lean against the back of the elevator, waiting to get to the top floor. His grip on your hand is a bit too tight, he thinks, but it keeps him grounded. You’re here. You’re with him. All of the other universes don’t matter. Only this one does. 

His lips part to speak, to fill the silence, but no words leave them. He thinks he’s spoken more these past two months with you than he has in his entire life. He never has any desire to speak unless he’s with you, and then he’ll find any reason to speak if it means he can hear your voice. 

“You don’t have to sleep in your office, you know?” you say abruptly, voice quiet. You’re not looking at him, he wonders if you’re embarrassed at whatever you’re about to say because you hesitate as you add, “I know I’ve pretty much commandeered your room but… I wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with you. This is your place, you should be comfortable too.”

Dazai thinks his face might be on fire, all of the air whooshing from his lungs at your words because of course, it’s something he’s thought of, dreamed of, but he never imagined you would just offer it up like that. He’s quiet for too long, evidently, because you seem to be more embarrassed. Just as he’s about to force something out, the elevator doors slide open and you’re rushing forward, yanking him along, as if to pretend you never said anything and Dazai can’t help the small smile that curves onto his lips.

“That would be nice,” he tells you quietly, he doesn’t know if you hear but he thinks you do because your grip on his hand tightens. 

The air is bitterly cold as high up as the two of you are, and the wind is wicked. He thinks that you’re definitely not dressed warm enough, a robe isn't nearly enough to shield from this type of cold, but you look unbothered, an exhilarated smile painted on your face as you drag him dangerously close to the edge of the roof, and Dazai can’t help the way his anxiety spikes—not for his sake, but for yours. His grip on your hand tightens a bit but you only plop down at the edge of the roof, tugging his arm gently as a way of beckoning him to sit with you.

He does. Of course, he does. 

His legs dangle off the side of the roof, thigh pressed against yours, and you keep your fingers laced with his, holding his hand on your lap. You stare ahead, eyes bright and excited as you wait for the sunrise. He stares at you, captivated. A part of him is still convinced this is all some twisted dream that his mind conjured to torture him—that he’s going to wake up slumped over on his desk to an empty apartment with only the faint memory of you to console himself with. 

Desperately, he wonders if there were any other universes like this, if this is just another spiral into the pages of the Book, just one more intense and more vivid than all of the rest. He knows there were universes where he stayed with the Port Mafia, universes where he became its boss—but he was older in those, in his mid or late twenties. No, this is his universe, it has to be, right? Right?

He doesn’t realize that his grip on your hand has tightened until you look over at him, and instantly, he loosens it, but you only tighten yours in response. Your eyes meet his and suddenly Dazai is breathless, unsure of what to say or do. You always look at him as if you’re looking into him, not at him, not like everyone else. It’s unnerving. He hates it. He loves it.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, knocking your shoulder into his. 

The smile on his face doesn’t necessarily meet his eyes, but the words he speaks are probably the most genuine that he’s ever uttered in his entire life. “When I’m with you? Always.”

Your expression softens, although he can’t help but notice that you don’t seem entirely placated by his response. He’s grateful that you don’t push though, because he doesn’t want to lie to you. You lean over though, resting your head on his bicep, and his breath hitches when you bring your free hand to your lap too, cradling his hand in both of yours. He forces himself to look ahead again, not wanting you to see the way his visible eye has suddenly become misty. 

You trace absent patterns on his skin as you wait for the sun to break over the horizon and Dazai is lost to his thoughts once more, heart suddenly clogging his throat as he realizes that yes, this is his universe and yes, you are here. With him. He doesn’t have to cling to the vague memories of your warm touch and sweet words, not when you’re sitting next to him and giving him them now. Why is he trying to drift off into the pages when he has you here? In a universe where Dazai was certain he’d never experience the tenderness your presence brought him, he should be savoring this. 

“Gin told me the other day that you guys are having trouble with a rival company,” you say quietly, and that draws him back to the present, brows furrowing as he wonders just how much Gin told you, mind racing as he tries to figure out where exactly this conversation is going. “That you guys are trying to prepare for an event they’re hosting in a week. I don’t want you to… worry about me or anything while you’re busy getting ready for all of that… Maybe that’s a bit presumptuous of me to assume but I just… I don’t know. I know you’ve been stressed about it, I don’t want to put more on you.”

Dazai lets out a quiet puff of air. “You see right through me, don’t you?” he murmurs, voice gentle and fond as his gaze drifts over you. “You don’t have to worry about that. You don’t put any stress on me.”

You look a bit flustered at his words, glancing down at your lap, at where his fingers are still laced with yours. You squeeze them tighter for a second and then look back out at the horizon. “... I’m glad,” you tell him softly. “I’ll keep out of your way the weekend of, though. I already talked to one of my friends, she’s going to let me stay with her for the weekend. Well. Assuming my apartment isn’t fixed by then. I still can’t believe it’s taking so long.”

The fondness is gone. Dazai’s world crashes and burns.

It’s only sheer willpower that prevents his sudden burst of anxiety from showing on his face. He turns his gaze out to the horizon now, staring ahead as he tries to figure out how to tell you no without sounding psychotic. 

His tongue presses to the roof of his mouth, the nails of his free hand scrape painfully against the rooftop as he desperately tries to fumble together a plan. You cannot leave the tower the night of the event. There’s already a high chance that Dostoevsky knows about you—Dazai knows there’s a spy in the Port Mafia and he doesn’t know if they’ve spotted you around the base. You’ve been leaving the headquarters more frequently during the day since that day with Chuuya; Dazai is never able to join you but he makes sure that Tachihara, Chuuya or Atsushi are with you on the chance that you’re targeted. 

If he’s being realistic, there’s no shot that Dostoevsky doesn’t know of you already, and if you’re out and about while the entire Port Mafia is readying for this event… No one would be left for him to station a protection detail on you, and it would be just like Dostoevsky to capitalize on that as he has in so many other universes, having you killed when no one is around to protect you.

God, is this it?

The words ring through his head. Cold. Damning. His bones feel as if they’d been thrown into a blast chiller and stuck back inside of his body. His stomach churns. Is this it? Is this how it’s going to happen?

He can’t let it happen. How does he prevent it?

How does he prevent it?

He thinks there’s only one way, but it leaves a sour taste in his mouth because it’s nearly as risky as letting you go off on your own, the only difference being that he would at least have some semblance of control over the situation. 

“Oh,” he finally forces out, the words sound distant and hoarse even to his own ears.

You look at him. Fatal. You can always read right through him, he has to make his decision quick.

“You sound… disappointed,” you say hesitantly.

He makes his decision, and he prays to any god that will listen that it doesn’t backfire.

“I was… going to ask you to be my date to the event, actually,” he says, careful to not look at you and give you even more of a window into his mind. He feels the way you straighten at his words. Hooked. He continues with, “... but if you already made plans with your friend…”

“Really?” you breathe out, your grip on his hand is tight, he can feel the way your fingers are trembling around his.

“Really,” he tells you softly, finally daring to look at you.

Your eyes are shining, the expression on your face so open and unguarded that Dazai almost feels bad for lying, but you don’t have to know the truth, that the only reason he’s inviting you with him is because he can’t have you going out and about alone. Not now. Not until Dostoevsky is dead.

But once Dostoevsky is dead, then what about all of the other threats? Agatha Christie? All of the enemies he’s made in this lifetime? When does it end?

He can’t think about that right now. He has to tackle the issue at hand first. 

You turn your head to look back out at the horizon, a smile edging at the corners of your lips. “I would love to be your date,” you say so quietly that Dazai almost doesn’t hear you. 

But he does, and he can’t hold back a relieved breath this time as he squeezes your hand.

A comfortable silence washes over the two of you as you wait for the sunrise, and Dazai doesn’t think he’s ever felt more at home. He’s still tired, undoubtedly; he hadn’t meant to fall asleep last night because he knew damn well that he’d only be more tired when he woke up, it would’ve been easier to just stay up the whole night. But now, he’s so at ease with you that he could almost fall back asleep—and that’s a feat in itself because Dazai hardly sleeps, and never feels comfortable enough to do so, he only ever sleeps when he's too exhausted to keep going. You’re so warm, so home, how could his eyes not start drooping shut?

“You know why they’re so great?” you suddenly ask, drawing him out of the drowsy state he was threatening to fall into. You’re still looking ahead, but he’s looking back down at you now.

 It’s close—the sun is about to rise, and he doesn’t care to see it himself, he cares to see you. He wants to see how the orange hues reflect in your eyes, the way your skin glows beneath the golden rays; he thinks it’s a holy experience, Dazai has felt the whirlwind of emotions that all of the other Dazais go through the first time they see you beneath the rising sun and he never thought he’d be able to feel it for himself.

“Because no two are ever the same?” His voice is soft and hesitant, and he’s not thinking as he speaks. He doesn’t even register what he said until you’re pulling your head off of his shoulder to look at him again, eyes wide, delighted.

“Yeah!” You toss him such a stunning smile that it almost physically dazes him. “You get it.”

He doesn’t have the heart to admit that he’s a fraud, closing in on himself a bit, but you don’t notice, head turning straight again. 

“They give me something to look forward to,” you say, a bit quieter again. Your gaze is distant as you look out into the sky, as if you’re seeing something that’s not actually there. “I want to see as many of them as I can.”

Dazai once tried to find the same comfort in sunrises that you did. It was when he first came up with his plan and he realized that he’d never get the chance to be with you, and he’d never get the chance to call Odasaku a friend. He came up here, actually, and watched the sunrise in this very spot. It was bitter and cold. It made him sick to his stomach. It made him feel emptier than he already was. And he realized that there was no beauty or appeal to them unless you were at his side. 

“We should…” 

You trail off as you turn to look at him again suddenly and Dazai’s lips part to warn you that you’re going to miss the best part—your favorite part, as you’ve told him (not him) over and over again. But the words die on his tongue as the sun breaks over the horizon and wow, he understands it. 

He understands it. God, he understands it. Everything he’s felt through the other Dazais pale in comparison to the sight before him and how it entirely devastates the thin thread of control he has on his emotions whenever he’s with you. Enamored. Captivated. His chest feels tight and his throat feels swollen and Dazai is in love. He is so completely and irrevocably in love that he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to recover. 

Suddenly, he understands why so many of the other Dazais have come to terms with their feelings for you at this moment. 

The sunrise washes over you and Dazai thinks you’re utterly angelic. Your eyes reflect the myriad of colors sweeping over the horizon, your skin glows beneath the red and gold hues. You’re beautiful, unreally so. Too divine for someone like him to lay his tainted fingers upon. He’s suddenly hyper aware of how his shoulder is brushing yours and how your fingers are laced with his. He thinks he should pull away, spare you from his putrid touch, but he couldn’t even if he wanted to, and he doesn’t want to, because he’s so wholly selfish that he would rather condemn you to ruin than part from you. 

“We should watch them together,” you finally say, and your eyes don’t leave his and you’re missing the sunrise but you don’t seem to mind, searching his face desperately for an answer. 

It takes an embarrassingly long time for your words to process, but when they do, Dazai thinks there’s no way he’s going to be able to hide the sudden urge he feels to cry. 

“Yeah,” he says. His voice cracks, he can’t even bring himself to care. “Yeah, we should.”

Nakahara Chuuya is livid when he gets a notification to his phone about the roof suddenly being accessed, knowing damn well only one other person can get up there. The vibrations from his phone wake him up, and then the subsequent spike of panic that shoots through him when he realizes what the notification is and what the implications of it are is more than enough to have him throwing himself out of bed and sprinting up the stairs, realizing that the elevator will take far too long.

It takes him a total of two minutes to get up to the roof from the thirty-second floor, and by the time he gets there, he’s so full of rage that Chuuya feels like he might explode. The last time Dazai went up to the roof, he was six bottles deep and Chuuya was hardly able to grab him before he toppled over the edge, and Chuuya is not in the mood to deal with that this early in the morning.

Chuuya hadn’t thought this would be an issue now, not with you here because although Chuuya still doesn’t know quite who you are or how you’ve managed to get Dazai Osamu under your thumb, he knows that Dazai is not the Dazai that Chuuya knows whenever you’re around. And Chuuya doesn’t get it, you’re nice enough, pleasant to talk to and pleasant to look at, but he doesn’t think that there’s anything special about you. Not special enough to have Dazai so entirely enamored by you that he’s starting to put the Port Mafia second, at least.

Apparently not enamored enough to stop from getting shit-faced and suicidal, though.

Chuuya’s jaw tightens as he pushes open the door to the roof and-

And he freezes. 

The fury slowly starts to dissipate as he catches sight of where you’re sitting at the edge of the roof with Dazai as the sun finally starts to rise. He thinks he should leave, go back down and get a few more hours of sleep before he has to meet Kouyou and Hirotsu at ten to go over the protection details for the event Nabokov is hosting, but he can’t help the way he hesitates, watching how absolutely infatuated Dazai looks as the sun rays sweep over you. Less like the cold and cruel boss of the Port Mafia that Chuuya’s become used to over the past few years, and more like the kid he met at fifteen, the one who disappeared and turned into a shell of himself after a few months of Chuuya knowing him. 

Chuuya never understood why. The only time he ever got close was that night on the roof when he started breaking down after Chuuya stopped him from jumping, but even then Dazai refused to explain anything to him. It pissed him off, honestly, because they were supposed to be partners. Chuuya was supposed to have the asshole’s back, no matter how infuriating he may be, but something changed a few months before Dazai’s sixteenth birthday and whatever it was, it entirely killed off anything left of the Dazai that Chuuya knew. No matter how much he demanded to know what happened, Dazai blew him off—dismissive at first, then cruelly, until Chuuya finally had enough and let it be. 

If he wanted to go off and be a husk of himself, then so be it, far be it from Chuuya to stop him.

But now… 

Chuuya lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head, drawing his eyes from where Dazai is looking at you as if you’re the only thing in the world that matters, stars in his eyes and a soft smile on his lips, to look up at the sky. He supposes it doesn’t quite matter if he doesn’t understand what’s so special about you to make Dazai act like this, just the fact that you do is enough—and if it turns out this is all some scheme by one of the Port Mafia’s enemies to get close to Dazai, Chuuya will do what he has to do. He always does. 

He thinks he should still grab Dazai—if Chuuya remembers correctly, he has a meeting with Ace in twenty minutes, but he takes one last look at where you’re sitting with him and lets out another heavy sigh, shaking his head and deciding that he’ll just handle the meeting. He’s been meaning to have a word with the man about his business in eastern Russia anyway.

He closes the door quietly, heading back inside, all of the lingering resentment and anger washed away; he lets Dazai indulge, if only because he knows nothing good ever lasts in this line of work. It’s only a matter of time before his luck runs out.

#ᡣ𐭩 carina’s archives #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you

[tarjapearce]

El Diablo Wears Prada (Pt.3)

Mafia boss! Miguel O'Hara x Reader.

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Smut, Fingering, non-con oral (M! receiving), masturbation, power play, sexual tension, mild angst, Dom! Miguel.

Summary: Another toll is put on your shoulders.

Previous

A/N: Centuries later, here's part 3! Hope you like <3. Feedback much appreciated. Cooper Coen belongs to Marvel ✨

As much as you wanted to remain in Morpheus' arms and let your body rest until it reached a hundred percent, the constant buzzing of the tracking device against your ankle kept alerting you. 

The last vibration had bolted you awake with a startle. Body whined in protest at the sudden movement that took such a strong hold on your hips, the juncture of your arms and thighs. 

It took you a couple of seconds to get your bearings and see the little and borderline fancy tracking device on your ankle. It was as if a digital watch had been locked up around your smooth skin. 

A little jolt of electricity ran through your nerves in a clear sign to not mess with the device, since you had tried to remove it. If you looked closer, it had a little password lock behind, a four-digit code. 

You gotta be kidding me

How dared he putting such a thing on you? When did he put this thing on you?, but more important, was he still around? Cause if he was, he'd have a piece of your mind. 

His sweater on your skin felt a too stuffy, and you needed a bath. A couple of bruises begun appearing in your ankles and the fatty part of your thighs cause obviously he needed to make sure you understood the magnitude of your current situation and how Massimo had willingly put a target ring on your back.

The buzz however snapped you out of the spiralling trance of thoughts that assaulted your mind. Brows puckered as you made your way towards his room but as soon as you entered, anger sapped away for a moment from your head. 

The curtains were drawn shut, their dark colors provided enough darkness to isolate the brightest sunshines that tried with all their might to seep past them and take a hold of whatever thing they could reach. 

With careful steps and a petty heart you sauntered over the windows and one by one removed the curtains, letting all the sun's ablaze glory to illuminate the darkened room in a go, even if it meant for you to be blindsided for a second before you turned your back on the light and saw the results of your anger display before you. 

El Diablo, laid sprawled in his ever big and cozy bed, his right and sharp cheek smooshed against the soft and silky burgundy sheets that wrapped like a second skin on his torso and legs. One of his feet poked out from underneath, letting itself to hang outside the smooth prison. 

His gorgeous mouth laid slightly ajar, letting a little drool streak to escape him and get long dry over the sheets. The smooth locks with the little silver strands in it were also sprawled all over his forehead and the mattress. Your eyes shamelessly raked his back. Big, well worked, perfect for leaving scratches and marks. He had none of those, but a different one. 

A red lips silhouette located a few inches from his ear, half of it smeared, as if wrongly or quickly wiped, trying to cover up a trail. 

The fact he had someone before giving you a rough fuck, not only put a little familiar yet painful stab in your heart, but returned the angry thoughts that initially gave you enough courage to foray into the devil's personal hellhole.

The pain felt like an old friend now that you had seen and heard the type of man Massimo really was. You didn't want to admit that there were times you could still feel a woman's perfume on his clothes while busying yourself in the confinement of your manor, trying to distract yourself from the emerging distraught of knowing your husband was possibly cheating. 

Men

With a scowl, you took one of the many pillows and threw it at his beautiful sleeping face. 

"Wake up!" 

That quickly contorted into several emotions upon suddenly awakening. Surprise cause you had dared startle him, anger because you had the guts to interrupt his slumber and throw a pillow and finally, annoyance at your yapping. 

Your arms crossed against your chest as he placed the pillow you threw his direction on t of his head with a bored grunt. 

The smell of his perfume wafted through the air, hand in hand with a light natural musk and a dash of air freshener coming from the bathroom. 

"What the fuck is this on my ankle and why did you put that thing on me?" 

"Can you shut up?" His slouching form only turned enough to take a proper look your way once his irises had adjusted at the room's brightness. 

Wearing his oversized sweater that covered those perfect mounds of yours he didn't have enough time to squeeze properly. Face twisted in a scowl, that although he rather your scared and demure look, he had to admit this angry you made his lips smirk and a spark of excitement to run through his body. 

Your hair spooked and tussled even if you were now trying to contain it in a messy bun while ignoring the rebellious baby hairs, revealing more of your upset features.

Beautiful and angry. 

Was this the sight you gifted Massimo every day?

"I'm talking to you!" 

"¡Ya pues! Cállate... fucking heard you already." He grumbled while laying down on his back. 

But in truth he hadn't heard a single word it came from your mouth. Too deep in suddenly remembering last night's events and what had transpired back in the club. 

"Take this thing off me." 

"No." 

Miguel stretched his spine with feline grace and a satisfied smirk, letting some joints pop back into place. His spine wasn't aching anymore, he didn't feel like dragging the past few weeks' tiring load, his shoulders felt rather light, he was even in good spirits. You had spent him real good last night. 

"What is this anyway?"

You remained on the window, letting the sun warm you up a bit. The whole floor was cold anyway. Your hands grope on either side of your waist and your frown deepened upon him turning his back on you. 

"Fucking men." 

He smirked as you went to his closet. He noted you only wore the thick sweaters. You didn't rummage through his clothes and personal items like he initially thought. 

"I need to get some things back from home."

With a groan he finally rose, and sat against the bed's oak frame, his hands reached for his phone, and scrolled through his messages as his other hand slicked the messy strands that partially obscured his sight. 

"Are you even listening?!" 

"I'd rather not to."

He grumbled while his eyes remained on the screen. 

"I need to get myself some clothes. I don't wanna keep using yours for you to have me naked later." 

"You're thinking way too high of yourself, Ratoncita." He removed the silky sheets and tossed his phone somewhere in the bed, revealing his bare physique to you as he prowled your way. 

Eyes boring on your tense form. Undoubtedly he was the cat and you his ever lovely and amusing little mouse. One of his hands landed a few inches on one side of your face, but as soon as you tried to remove yourself from the equation, his other hand and a step forward of his frame closed the space, sandwiching you loosely between him and the wall. 

Even if limp, his cock felt above the sweater's fabric, right above your lower belly, ever warm and hefty. He had to lean down enough to face you, then took a half firm half gentle hold in your chin.

"If you have the energies to be mewling this early in the morning, you can take your pretty ass to the shower, clean yourself and get changed. We'll leave soon. ¿Entendido? 

"I'm not coming-" 

He squeezed your chin, igniting that spark of fury within you as he growled between teeth, "Understood?" 

His tone left no space for replies. But you slapped his hand away and retreated away from his confinement, but the petty in him needed to have the final saying. Even though words were done, he took your actions as a defiance. So he returned it, on your butt as a firm slap that smacked deliciously in the air. 

You didn't even turned to face him. Anger was too much in your mind to let it have the whole control over your emotional panel, and part of you assumed that he'd settle the score to his favor with another rough fuck.

Men. 

Your hands clenched into tight fists to finally disappear into the bathroom with a loud slam on the door. 

As much as he wanted to yell for the poor treatment on his property, he couldn't help but smirk, satisfied at your reaction. 

Part of his brain was amused to no end to see this new emotion in you. Anger made his senses tingle. But the ever rational part of his gray mass, wondered what had taken over you to be this pissed. 

Hadn't he fucked you silly last night? Cause he refused to believe he had done a poor job. 

The sudden thought of him underperforming in bed made his bushy brows to pucker in annoying concern. He'd take many insults, name calling, but someone, a woman specially saying he was bad at in bed? No. He couldn't allow it. 

He heard the shower run, and it was his cue to get his clothes ready. 

He'd go for a pair of black pants, a burgundy Prada button shirt, socks, dress shoes, no tie neither a suit, Day was too humid to be overdressed. 

The shower stopped a couple of minutes later, and he put all the things on the bed. 

You had finished a hot shower, rinsing all trace of him, wrapped your hair in a towel and pat dried your body to then wear one of his many black sweaters and slippers, the only thing you truly possessed. 

Upon seeing nothing but his toothbrush and grooming devices, you rummaged through the marbled drawers to look for a new toothbrush. You'd eventually find them next to a neatly arranged box of condoms and some gun chargers. But to your surprise the box was intact, sealed even, waiting to be used. 

With a roll if your eyes and a huff, you got to brush your teeth, a little harder than intended. 

Miguel simply entered the bathroom and slowly squeezed his way into the same space as you before the mirror, pushing you softly as you brushed your hair with your fingers. 

He looked in the mirror, the grayish hue on his cheeks increased, but he kept it. Not really feeling like grooming himself. His happy trail was on full display to you. 

If honest, it was the first time you actually paid attention to the secrets of his skin. 

A couple of scars littered his cinnamon tan and muscled skin, bullet marks? perhaps. The muscles rippled at every movement, enhancing the sight of his lower back's dimples, waist narrow and sharp, adorned with well-worked abs and sculpted thighs. There were no tattoos on his skin as he rather keep himself clean from them. 

His mere existence spoke loud and clear, he didn't need ink to prove his prowess. Plus, he considered himself too old for them. 

Gabriel on the other hand was like a walking board underneath his clothes. Or a bathroom stall's wall like he once called him. 

Your stomach grumbled loudly, and he chuckled. 

"Instead of staring, why don't you get some food? You'll need it." 

He grabbed his toothbrush and put a dollop of paste on it. Voice smooth like butter, that barely did a good job at hiding the rising mirth. But his lid twitched, vexed on your mimicking words 

"You're thinking too highly of yourself."

You pointed at his neck. 

"And make sure to properly clean yourself from others before even considering touching me." 

His smirk widened and held your wrist with enough force to make you whimper. Miguel finished washing and rinsing his mouth to then pull you by your nape and crashing his mouth on yours. 

You froze as he made you taste the fresh and cool flavor of mint in his mouth. When he pulled away, a sardonic smile plastered all over his infuriating yet beautiful face. He didn't give you time to reply as you were being pushed out the bathroom and before you could even give him again a peace of mind; he slammed the door in your face. 

"Asshole!" 

He chuckled as you yelled behind the door and finally got to shower. 

----

After a hearty breakfast and some more calls from Miguel, you and the rest got into the cars and left. 

Ben, the blond man drove the SUV again. Jessica was tailing after in her own car as another car with a lanky and pierced man lead the way. 

Buildings and skyscrapers of all sizes and colors passed you by, streets were averagely full, but Ben drove through shortcuts that approached faster towards your secret destination. 

Miguel had refused to speak after you recoiled away from his sudden urge of teasing you. He deliberately ignored you through the road, focusing occasionally on his phone screen. 

"We're here, boss." Ben mumbled after what it felt like forever. 

The little caravan had stopped before a bright red three floored building. Dark windows prevented the sunlight to seep in. The name, Casa Cisneros displayed in a Dior alike typography over the red walls. 

Your eyes widened when you saw the gorgeous, elegant and colorful clothing designs neatly arranged in the window's showcase. 

Miguel guided your surprised self deeper into the boutique. A man around his forties, white hair, shorter than Miguel, dressed up in an orange suit and a shit-eating grin came to greet Miguel. 

"Por Dios, te juro que si vienes con esa mierda de zapatos de Prada ni me molestaré en atenderte." (I swear that if you've come with those shitty Prada shoes I won't even bother in help you out.) 

Miguel chuckled while shaking his head. Then hugged the man briefly yet sincerely. 

"How have you been Mateo?" 

"¿Cómo que 'How you've been?'" His disgust couldn't hide, "Ugh. Never mind, where is Dana? Can't wait to dress her up in my new collection!." 

Your brow quirked upon the woman's name but Miguel just dismissed him with a disdainful wave of his hands and a blasé scowl. 

"Ah... Ya veo. En fín, whose the new seasonal fling?" 

Mateo, the owner, or so you supposed, fixed his eyes your way and smirked approvingly as he watched you from head to toes. 

"Nothing better and exciting than a blank canvas." he then turned to Miguel, "The same as usual?" 

The same as... what? 

You looked at Miguel and the mob lord shook his head while focusing once more in his phone 

He dialed some numbers to place the trinket in his ear, "Up to her." 

He mumbled before disappearing into another room. Mateo however grinned upon you being given a carte blanche from his best client. Cause that meant money. 

"So... What do you want?" 

"Uh... The basics I believe?" 

This earned him a giggle. 

"Preciosa. Hermosa, muñeca. Listen to me. And listen well.", He waved a warning finger at you, "Basic is not in this fashion's house vocabulary. Secondly, if Miguel brings you here is cause, he wants you to look good and not embarrass him. I know it sounds awful, but if you're with him-" 

"I'm not." Your frown deepened and Mateo just rolled his eyes. 

"Of course you aren't. Anyway, I'll give you a wardrobe. Let's go. Cooper!" 

He called and soon a tall, young and redhead man approached. His green eyes lit up upon the task ahead. 

"This is Cooper Coen, my assistant. He'll be helping us today." 

The young man greeted, and soon they began working. 

Mostly of the pieces the both picked suited perfectly on your body, every curve lavished and worshipped with utter care. But you also noticed that as beautiful as it all was, the crafts were easy to remove. As if Mateo knew the purpose behind everything he donned you with. 

Cooper kept packing and bringing clothes that not only enhanced your body shape, but made you look like a spoiled rich man's wife. Elegant, beyond gorgeous, expensive and oh so tempting and fuckable. 

Mateo seemed delighted in having you as his personal doll, trying outfit after outfit. Miguel had left to business but Jessica remained behind to look after you. 

Hours kept passing, and you moved to the undergarments. You were too focused in getting the underwear you had missed for so long that didn't hear Miguel returning. 

You wouldn't ruin him financially, sadly, but as Cooper had told you, it wasn't going to go be cheap either. And if your intuition wasn't failing, you knew something didn't add up. Not that you weren't grateful to finally have your own clothes to wear, but deep in your brain, the ever rational and alert part of it kept telling you to be wary. To not trust Miguel.

What is he hiding? 

----

Miguel had to leave for a couple of minutes to have an impromptu meeting with Peter back at the club for more Intel gathering. Apparently a clue on Massimo's whereabouts came up and he left you with Jessica. 

But upon returning and seeing the amount of packages and the count ascending past the fifty grand, he called you. 

Money wasn't an issue for him, but the amount of unnecessary shoes that you or rather Mateo had made him wonder how many pair of shoes a woman truly needed. 

Never enough apparently. 

He called you once, but Cooper showed up instead. 

"She'll be here soon, Mr. O'Hara." 

The young man nodded as Miguel huffed.  

It reminded him the too many times he took women for shopping and always ended up like this. Bored out of his mind, sometimes pissed at the constant questions they asked him. 

Do I look fat? Does this color matches my skin? 

He sighed, irked but somehow ready to ignore the flood of questions you'd annoy him with. 

Much to his dismay, minutes kept stretching impossibly longer and he had things to do and places to be at. He called you again. 

No response. 

His jaw tensed as his teeth ground together. He immediately took his phone and searched on the tracking device location. 

Signal Lost 

"Pinche mujer" He growled as he bolted gun in hand towards where you had been, Heart pounding with such an intense anger it felt like molten lava flowing through him. 1Jessica was helping Mateo, unaware of what was to unfold. 

Heavy and livid steps guided him towards the dressing rooms. He swung the curtain, ready to look for clues as to where you had left, only to find you, struggling with adjusting the back straps of the lingerie Cooper had handed over to you. 

"¿¡Qué no oyes cuando te hablo?! ¿'Tas pinche sorda o qué?" (Didn't you hear me when I'm talking to you?! You fucking deaf or what?!) 

His sudden outburst startled you while your frightened gaze settled on him and it quickly turned angered. 

"What the fuck?! I'm changing!" You were about to keep up with his yelling when his gun stood high and proud in the air. Silencing your babbling with an unintelligible grumble. 

"What was that?" With a scowl he glowered your way. Your tongue clicked, ignoring him. 

His eyes couldn't help but rake your body for some brief seconds to finally settling on the tracking device. The thing was off. 

"What did you do to it?!" He growled while pushing you against the mirror and kneeled to grab your ankle and see with his own eyes why the device wasn't working. 

Updating 40% 

Of course the damned thing would be updating. His nostrils flared angrily as you yanked your limb away from his grasp.

"Hurry the fuck up, I don't have all day."

He let you go and headed towards the entrance. 

"Che palle! Lasciami in pace un attimo, stronzo!" (How annoying! Leave me alone for a second, you asshole!) 

And oh his head turned in many dangerous and dark thoughts. It wasn't the words you used, he couldn't care less about them, but the fact alone you still had bits of Massimo still clinging to you. 

If honest, you only had learned some phrases in the attempt to rekindle things with your husband, it somehow worked, but this was a completely different outcome you truly weren't expecting. 

In a blink of an eye he was already before you, red eyes glowering your way, a steely grip on his gun. 

"The fuck did you say?" 

You had to recoil away, but where? He had trapped you again against the mirrors, your fear etched in every face the multiple surfaces provided and it fuelled him. 

A thick gulp rolled down your throat as his gun's tip placed underneath your chin to drag down between your breast to stop right above your heart, tapping a tad rough with it. 

"If you wanna act like a spoiled brat, fine." he seethed as he pushed you on your knees in a swift move, the sudden movement had you stumbling down, startled "I'll teach you a fucking lesson." 

His other hand immediately went to your front strands, tangling his long fingers in them, your hands immediately flew to his wrist, grunting uncomfortably at the tight grip on your skull, trying to pry yourself away from him. You could feel his anger through the little tremors his body did as he tossed the gun to the seat inside the little cubicle. 

"Let me go!" he pulled your head back, parting your lips open in the way. 

"Since you fucking love opening your pretty mouth to disrespect me," His hold tightened on your hair as his hands fumbled with the belt of his pants, sliding his free hand past the layers of clothing and pulled out his engorging cock. A few pumps of his hand around it had it twitching to life. 

"I think it's time to find a proper use for it, hmm?" Before you could even protest, his flushed tip was already invading your mouth. A hiccup escaped you while he pushed in inch by inch, earning a brief gag and gurgle from you. 

A satisfied growl escaped his smirking mouth. 

"What's wrong? Cat's fucking your tongue?" 

He stepped in closer, your nose nuzzled his happy trail as he was now holding your hair in a fistful. A sharp tinge of tears blurred your eyes for a moment as he slid down your throat. Your hands slapped his thighs while trying to push him back, earning him a breathless moan. You had tested his patience long enough for him to snap and remind you of your position. 

If he had known how easy and quick you'd learn how to get under his skin, he would've left you back with your rotten husband. 

Upon sensing you gag again, he chuckled while sliding some of his fingers underneath your chin, guiding you slowly to take him properly. 

"Fucking relax." He heaved when your mouth flattened around him to have air flowing back to your lungs. 

Fucking gorgeous. That's how you looked, staring with your pretty and angry eyes while you choked on him, set a long forgotten thrill alive that he rather keep buried for good. 

You coughed as soon as he slid out, completely hard, glistening in your saliva and beads of pre cum that connected to the corners of your flushed mouth. 

"Uh-uh. Open up, I'm not done yet." 

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and coughed a couple of bits; the glare returned to your eyes. 

"Fuck you." 

Miguel huffed, crouched and took your chin to kiss you, tasting himself. You bit his lip, hard trying to get him to free you, but the growl grumbling through his chest only made your skin crawl as his tongue slid in your mouth, also invading you. 

The sheer size of his frame and the little space between sandwiched you, deliciously against him. One hand cradled your head, not giving you a truce while devouring your lips as the other one slid down between your legs. 

The sudden contact sent jolts up your spine, as he changed the cradling on your nape to a light squeeze on your neck as he pressed you against the floor, and spread your legs with his teasing hand when you trapped his hand in between your thighs, preventing him from reaching deeper. 

The motions had slowly made his cock to be trapped again in the fabric confinement. 

He earned a feeble mewl as he slid two of his fingers inside. The vibrations of your purring reverberated underneath his skin made his eager tip to twitch again 

His phone buzzed and he let your throat go for a second, but his fingers remained inside, massaging and wriggling softly within your flesh. 

"Not a peep from you, ok? This is an important call." 

Your hands immediately clenched and your thighs trembled when he moved his hand, back and forth, delving into your drenching walls. 

Heat licking at every pore of your skin. You didn't know if it was in anger or your hormones betraying you once again. The lack of sex with Massimo was costing your dignity big time. 

He's just toying with you cause he knows he can. 

Your mind reasoned, despite the rationality's grip loosening at his ministrations. 

"Ya le dije a Gabriel que procediera sin contratiempos." (I already told Gabriel to proceed without problems)

He talked and moved his hand like the most natural thing to do while in a call. 

Shame washed over your cheeks at the raunchy and sloppy wet noises your cunt made the more he probed your insides. 

"No, no-"

You hissed and his eyes went immediately on you, as if with his glare alone he'd be defying you to make a noise again. 

Your lips pursed shut as your chest heaved with ragged yet quiet breaths 

"I've got it under control." 

More than a reply to whoever he was talking to, his words were a fact. An undisputed truth that clawed at your brain the deeper he stimulated with his fingers. 

He was on control. Of you, your body and every bit that formed it, of every contraction that sucked and trapped his fingers, of every breath he made you exhale. 

His pace increased, and you choked while your body trembled at the beat of his thrusting fingers. A satisfied smirk crept up to his face, determined to break your forceful silent vow. 

He's worse than Massimo. Don't forget that. 

The hardened nub of your breast peeked underneath the flimsy fabric, swaying, demanding to be tasted. 

His initial resolution of not making a physical approach, had been long broken, ever since you insulted him in that foreign language that certainly sparked things within his mind he rarely liked to indulge thinking. 

You amused him, that was much true. But God you also made him so fucking angry. Running your mouth like you were his equal, facing him despite being scared to the core and spending his energies in such a delicious way he only sought whenever stress was eating him alive and none so far had properly known how to sate. Not even Dana. 

The only serious relationship prospect he had so far until she cheated on him and he had to get rid of her. 

But you, He didn't know if to kill you himself or fuck you 'til you were in tears. 

Your mouth parted in a pornographic 'o', gasping quietly, eyes shut, face covered in a deep shade of red, hands clenched into fists on the floor as your body swayed underneath. 

"Let me see what I can do." He crooned as his golden chain around his neck dangled with his motions.

His eyes kept glued onto your face as he slowly rubbed the rough pad of his thumb against your neglected clit in a tortuous and flickering motion. 

You bit your lip, and he smirked darkly. Slowly, he pushed in a third finger as he applied a bit more of pressure on your already sensitive and engorged nub 

Think about the condom box! 

Your toes curled in, body contorted in between gentle twitches and jerks when he grazed ever softly and teasingly at your sweet spot. A soft and barely audible gasp escaped your mouth. And his breath hitched as soon as you locked eyes with him in a glare. 

How dare he? 

He moved in and out, alternating between fucking his fingers inside and caress your bundle of nerves for enough time to edge you. 

"I know. Hmm." He nodded at whatever words Peter gave him, "You're more than capable of handling it." 

It felt like he was encouraging you through the whole process. 

He's not in control. 

One of his fingers grazed into a spot that got your hips stuttering and shaking your head as your teeth sunk deeper into the plump of your bottom lip, jaw tense but unable to trap in a garbled moan. You felt like a hypocrite. 

"Yeah, don't worry. Everything's fine." 

The way your walls increased their drenching with every contraction on his digits, had him tittering silently in twisted delight. 

At this point it was a matter of seconds to have you coming undone. He was set into making you break the rules. Your toes curled and trembled as he fastened the pace enough to have a soft squishing slap echoing just for him. 

El Diablo tilted his head as you clawed your nails on his ankle, it barely tickled him. 

"All he has to do is to agree. Offer him more money if that's the case." 

With clinical precision he stopped a few seconds before you got to come undone and trap him inside. A frustrated and shallow whine flew out your mouth. His thumb pad was now tracing the outline of your lips, to then slid two of his drenched fingers into your mouth. 

"All he has to say is yes." He moved his hand, making your head bob in a nod as he spoke. Your taste exploding into your mouth. 

With little he just retreated outside the cubicle to return a few minutes later with a plain pair of pants and a shirt. He hung the call up and sighed. 

" Now that you've learnt how to shut the fuck up, get changed. We need to go."

With trembling legs you stood, trying to catch your breath, the lingerie soiled, your thighs sticky. Heart and pussy played like a fancy tailed piano and he was the main musician. 

He fixed his clothes, despite the raging boner pulsating between his clothes. He looked at you for a moment, nose reddening, lips flushed and glossy eyes that turned aqueous the more he remained in there. 

His brows pinched softly in an imperceptible frown before leaving you alone. Not really wanting to witness your sudden discomfit. 

What had came over you? 

----

Ever since he woke up that day there were so many changes he had barely had time to adjust. But this quiet and distant you was unsettling and uncomfortable for him. 

First the need to cry after he almost gave you an orgasm, then, the silent ride back at home. 

You barely glanced his way when explaining the dress you needed to wear for the party he was also changing into. But what frustrated him the most was when he asked you to remove the ring out of your finger. The urge to cry returned on your face. 

He truly didn't understand why you still clung so blindly to Massimo. At this point he thought it was love.

He huffed, disgusted. 

You wouldn't drag him to your emotional rollercoaster cause he already had his own. And there was an enough mess as it was to keep adding to his plate. 

He was proud of his detachment skills, soon you'd return to that asshole you called a husband and he wouldn't have to worry about you anymore, cause again, he was growing tired of facing other emotions that weren't the ones he could master. 

No matter how gorgeous and fuckable you looked in that backless and sequin golden dress that undoubtedly did a better job at treating your body than him. 

You had to apply some makeup to the most visible bruises around your body. Neck included. He loved squeezing it apparently. 

Miguel had removed the tracking device of your ankle to disguise it as a clock on your wrist. He looked handsome as usual. 

In truth, you looked like a celebrity. It made you wonder what kind of party you headed to, but you refused to speak to him and he was more than happy to not be bothered. 

Each sat in opposite corners in the car. Not saying a word during the ride. The only instruction he gave you was to stay close as he hugged your waist, although weakly, with his hand. 

Nostalgia was rampant on you today, and it didn't help the not so clandestine reunion harbored within a familiar milieu for you. 

A fancy club, L'Enfer, you once had the chance of visiting. Your engagement night, and returning after so many years in extremely different circumstances, tightened the knot around your throat and the need to run away to increase tenfold. 

Golden floors matched the velvet curtains that protected the black windowsills from prying eyes. The tables pristinely arranged to the left and right, ready to witness its attendee's darkest and deepest secrets. 

Servers were dressed in jet black suits and red gloves, offering the myriad of delicacies prepared for the night. 

Some men stared at Miguel, apprehension and wariness in their eyes. Others smirked and raised their champagne cups as he made his way deeper into the place. Peter walked ahead, Miguel and you followed, and Jessica tailed behind, yet his agents scattered all over the place, either as servers or valets, even bartenders. 

Miguel wore his usual frown, occasionally changing into a deadpan whenever a fan of his work approached. 

Miguel entered to a further room, more private and secluded. The smell of tobacco and expensive perfumes polluted the air, assaulting your nose at once. 

You downed the discomfort with a cup of champagne. 

"Try to not drink too much. Need you sober for the meeting." 

A meeting? 

You quirked a brow at his mumbles but nodded and remained seated near the indoor font, the least tobacco smelling place from the rest and the same place Massimo proposed. Now, you were eating the different entrees, balancing the alcohol ingest in a mob lord party, you realized too late. 

Jessica remained on your side, also eating whenever a snack she liked passed by. Peter accompanied Miguel as he greeted and exchanged a few words with the other people. 

Orborn, Kravinoff or Kraven for short, Olivia Octavius, and other men didn't ring a bell on you. 

"Let Miguel do the whole talking. In fact, act as the listener. And if Kraven calls you beautiful, don't say thanks. He'd think he can hit on you and the least Miguel needs-" 

"Is worrying for stupid shit. I know." 

The sweetness of the mini desserts and other assorted flavors didn't help to conceal the tart tasting in your mouth. Jessica quirked a brow and nodded. 

"You're adapting quick. That's good. But despite having a ten grand dress on you with matching shoes and gold in your ears, you look like you're about to cry. What the hell is wrong now?" 

Tough love was all you got from her, but it also surprised you how perceptive and unsuspecting she could be. 

"Everything."

Jessica rolled her eyes and sighed, adding another lemon curd mini tart in your plate. One you hadn't had before. 

"What in specific? Is it... That guy, your husband?"

Jessica smacked her lips with her gaze fixed on you, scrutinizing within your eyes upon your sudden silence. 

"You're really hung up on that asshole, aren't you?" 

"It's not that. And I'm not even sure about my feelings on Massimo. I want to punch him in the face for lying to me, but I also I want to know he's alright, so I can... pass page."

Your shoulders slumped as you heaved, defeated, "And Miguel is no better. It feels like they'd be secretly competing against eachother whose worse." 

Jessica grunted with a silent titter and shook her head. 

"He's blunt and an asshole, undoubtedly. Despite that, I'd stick in Miguel's side, he'll make sure you're safe in his own way." 

"Just wished he'd be less cryptic whenever I ask for answers." 

"Again, he's protecting you."

"From what? From himself?" 

"No. From the troubles your man dragged you to, honey." 

"Ugh" You rolled your eyes, the last thing you needed right now was to be reminded how awful Massimo was, "Just forget it. I feel anxious enough as it is." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I... I have a bad feeling." 

-----

You sat next to Miguel and carefully listened. The mobster's voice occasionally drowned the cutlery's tinkling out. 

Topics had varied through the night, from luxury cars and ways to armor them, weapon hiding and smuggling, to your current predicament. Massimo. 

"Kingpin is looking for him, his wife has gone MIA, which is convenient. Bitch's smart. The guy could learn a thing or two from her."

"He ratted out Delgado with the FBI. His associate! Wouldn't surprise me if he'd sell out his family to save his skin." The man called Harry Osborn spoke as he downed his whiskey. 

"Da. My associates have gathered Intel, he hasn't left the country still."

You gulped thickly the more the men spoke. If seeing with your own hands what your husband had created wasn't enough, hearing it straight from the horse's mouth only crushed your heart even further. 

"What about you, Diablo?" 

"Max owes me money." 

Many just hissed while contorting their faces disapprovingly. 

"How much?" 

"Four Million."

"Poor bastard sold his soul to you, didn't he?" Olivia Octavius mumbled between sardonic and titters. 

Miguel downed his whiskey as your hands clawed on the golden sequins of the dress. 

"What kind of fucked up woman marries a guy like that? She's desperate or corrupt as he is." 

Olivia spat and a few nodded. 

"Heard he was fooling her this whole time."

"Ahh, C'mon, Miguel. Didn't know you fell for such things." 

Miguel just shrugged, then he lit up a vanilla and cherry cigarette to blow the smoke away from you. 

"I'm giving people the benefit of doubt still. But I'll find him."

"You'll kill him?" 

"Gotta collect my reaps first." 

The men and Olivia grinned, everyone seemed pleased but you. It had been a good deal of information to swot on, so many to digest your stomach had turned queasy. 

You were about to stand up, feeling the bile and nausea rising, that registered too late the acute ring piercing through your eardrums so badly after a powerful loud bang. Unable to move, frozen in the spot. 

Everything felt in muted slow motion, some droplets of something warm and wet fell on your face, spraying you. You saw the group pulling out their guns one by one as Harry Osborn fell with a seemingly loud thud on the table. 

Why isn't he moving? 

Your heart pounded in your ears, throat constricted, and when you tried to scream nothing but a mute yell came out. A strong tanned hand pulled you down, as more loud bangs kept echoing, like distant fireworks underneath water. 

Guns were sparkling with every shot they fired, people fell on the floor, staining the golden surface with crimson as the walls around received an ugly hole-themed makeover. 

You could see Miguel grabbing your shoulders, shaking you while his mouth moved angrily as he pulled his gun away and kept you secured tightly underneath his frame. 

Chaos had broke loose. And you weren't sure you'd live up to tell. 

-----

Taglist:

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#t writes✨ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #el diablo wears prada #miguel o'hara smut

[bubblegumwitchery]

Can't wait until I have a computer and can change my theme again. It's been years and I'm not really into the pastel goth vibe because it just doesn't fit me like I thought it would

#i still love the aesthetic but not for myself #i have burgundy walls and black sheets and curtains and lots of bones sitting on mushroom shelves #nothing of mine is really pastel

[swiffin]

Trying to draw Alice :7

Finally listening to the Magnus protocol aaaaaa it’s so addictive I can’t

Also what I haven’t posted in three months whoops

[image ID: a brief character sheet of Alice dyer from the Magnus protocol. The colours are warm. Her hair is blonde and eyes blue and she is wearing a burgundy sweater and a pinstriped long, storm blue skirt. She is sitting in an office chair holding a cup of tea with a snarky smile on her face. There is also a headshot image of Alice with a more displeased expression on her face. End ID]

#art #tmagp #tmp #alice tmagp #the magnus protocol #alice dyer

[senualothbrok]

Love and beauty

Summary: A few days after Astarion has taken you to his grave, you are lying in bed together. You decide it's time to make a confession.

Musings on beauty, love and death.

Word count: 1.3k

Non-18+. Astarion x female Tav. Non-ascended Astarion. References to bereavement.

AO3 link

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You are lying on your side, looking at Astarion.  Here at the Elfsong Tavern, morning is rousing from its slumber. You are cocooned in the bed you have shared with him since the night he took you to his grave. The sheets are warm and soft beneath you, and in their burgundy shadows, his skin glows like porcelain. He lies on his back, his silver eyelashes fanning out below his closed eyes like silk. His crown is a white maze of waves. Just recently you have noticed the faint threads which form around his mouth and eyes when he laughs, slight indents where his eyebrows meet his nose when he is focused. And sometimes, barely perceptible dimples dance on his cheeks.

You never tire of looking at him. There is always something new to see, and you never know how long you have left to see it.

“I can feel you staring at me.” A lazy eye opens and fixes on you. “Has no one ever told you that it’s rude to stare?”

There is mischief in his smile, and you return it. You run your fingers over his collarbone. He shifts his chin closer to your hand.

“I can’t help it.”

He stretches, long and languid, a fang peeking out on his lower lip.

“I know, darling.” He turns onto his side to face you. “It’s why you’re here. You can’t get enough of my devastating beauty.”

The words carry no edge. He is still himself, not the masked imitation. He twirls his fingers around a strand of your hair as it caresses your shoulder.

“You are devastatingly beautiful, it’s true.” You play with a curl at his temple, tracing the edge of his ear. You consider for a moment. “But you know, all of that… it only goes so far.”

“Oh?” He regards you quizzically.

“Well…” You turn the thoughts over in your mind. “I’m human, Astarion. Even humans blessed with devasting, soul-crushing beauty, like yours – most of us don’t live that long. We get old and grey. We get wrinkles.”

He scrunches his nose. You laugh.

“I know, disgusting, those wrinkles. But when you have to contend with ageing, and with death… it’s different.”

You are not sure he understands what you are saying. You yourself are not entirely sure.

You nuzzle your nose into his. He slides his arm under your head, circling it around your shoulder. You curl into his chest. There is a silence, but it is so light, like being bathed in morning sun.

Maybe it is because every day draws you closer to the Netherbrain. Or maybe it is because he has shown you where he died, and has shared with you his rebirth. Now, you feel the last bastion inside you can come down. This last pearl you have hidden from him, you can now give, trusting he will not cast it away.

“I had a husband once,” you say.

You have not spoken about him for a long time. It surprises you that it does not hurt anymore to mention him. To remember.

“It was a lifetime ago now. He was beautiful too, when we met. Though nowhere near as beautiful as you.” You brush your lips across Astarion’s skin. “He was smart. He had a way with words. And he was kind.”

You are relieved that Astarion does not say anything. He does not tense in shock or anger. There is no judgment. He only listens, holding you.

“He actually looked a lot like Gale. Sometimes when he speaks, Gale even sounds like him.”

Astarion bristles at this. “So you’re telling me that one of our travelling companions, one of our closest allies and friends, is the spitting image of the love of your life? And you’re telling me this, why?”

You are not entirely surprised by his reaction. And maybe you find it endearing that Astarion could feel even a prickling of jealousy about a man you loved and lost so long ago. You chuckle, reaching up to kiss him lightly on the curve of his jaw. He eases with a huff.

“This isn’t the point of my story.”

“Well, you best get to it soon,” he shoots back, but he does not pull back his embrace.

There is a softness, a playfulness, to his irritation. You nibble his ear lobe gently and he sighs. He waits. You go on.

“He was a lot older than me. When he got sick, I took care of him. He died in his sleep. I laid him to rest. By that point, he was an old man. And he’d lived a good life.”

You remember your husband’s face through a haze. His papery skin, so thin you could tear it by mere touch. Frosted hazel eyes, and snaking veins on hands that you clasped so tightly against your wet face after he had breathed his last. The years of love that had filled the hole he left, buoying you through the grief.

“There’s something about that kind of love. Through age, and sickness, and everything in between. The long and boring days. The petty arguments. The stupid things we joked about. Everything we shared together.”

You heart fills as you speak of him. There is no more sorrow when you think of him now, only gratitude.

“I loved him till the end. That kind of love - it went well beyond his beauty.”

Astarion is quiet and still for a long time. When he moves back to look at you, you cannot read his gaze.

“But I won’t age,” he says. “I won’t die.”

You nod.

“I’ll be like this forever.”

“Forever beautiful, forever young.” You glance at the scars and ripples of your flesh, and you cannot help but feel a pang of envy.

He frowns. In the pause that follows, you wonder where he has gone. You wish he could take you with him.

“How will I know, then?” he asks suddenly.

“Know what?”

“How will I know…” He struggles, as though each word is a heavy load. He clears his throat. “How will I know what kind of love it is?”

There is an emptiness in his eyes now, like a kind of sadness. A loss. You reach out and press your palm to his heart.

“Are you asking me whether I would still love you-“

“If I wasn’t beautiful.” He grimaces. “If I was old and grey, or sick, or…” He trails off briefly. “If I had wrinkles. Like Gale.”

You laugh, and you see that it gives him comfort. Because Astarion still cannot help but mask a plea with a jibe.

“What do you think?” you ask.

He hesitates. His eyes caress your face, drinking in every detail, every line and curve, every shadow and blemish. A balm spreads through you as he sees you, just as you see him, since the very first time you promised to be his mirror. You know he can see your answer.

But he is uncertain, and he is still afraid.

“Without a doubt, Astarion,” you breathe.

He turns away. You wait. It no longer weighs on you when he withdraws. You know now that he will always return. You will give him time, now. You will give him space. He will come back when he is ready.

But then, so abruptly, he clasps you against him. You are enveloped in the coolness of his skin, the warm wetness of his mouth, the blanket of his body around you. The moment is a world in itself, swirling and gathering and expanding, holding you fast.

It ends as it began. You lie there, tracing circles in each other’s souls. Morning has broken, and muffled voices are bustling through the bedroom walls. Slowly, you edge to the side of the bed, and he rises to join you.

“I don’t think he was the love of my life, by the way.” You say it like an afterthought, but it is not.

“I damn well hope not,” he counters, sharp and fast.

But the gentleness in his gaze tells you all you need to know.

---

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#astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x female tav #astarion romance #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion one shot

[fleetingtemper]

how kafka tells you she loves you

fem! reader, fluff, suggestive, pet names, implied sexy times

the doors to your room slid open and the tall burgundy haired woman strutted through, tossing her coat over the hanger. she walks toward your near asleep form and cups your face. “y/n dear? have you been waiting for me?” kafka coos into your ear.

you were too cute. your silky sheets were strewn across your body resting in a fetal position. the strap of your tank top was ever so slightly off your shoulder, revealing your lover’s fun. kafka licked her lips at the sight of your exposed skin, painted with dark hickeys littered across your chest.

she sighed fondly at the memories of last night.

you stir as your eyes blearily adjust to the figure standing above you. a smile tugs at your lips at the sight of your lover. the clock next to you read 4:03 a.m.

kafka sits on her knees by your bed “you’re too good to me,” she presses a chaste kiss to your knuckles before getting up. she quickly changes into an intricate, black slip dress with pearls positioned upon her bust. she settles her pearl earrings on the nightstand and moves into bed to face you.

without her contacts, you can see the emotions behind her eyes. normally glazed over mauve irises were now replaced with a softer glint in her eyes. she looked at you with an unspeakable fondness. “i love you kafka,” you whisper, moving a strand of hair behind her ears.

she gave you a closed eye smile. kafka never said ‘i love you’, because a stellaron hunter was not supposed to fall victim to the simple mundanities of ordinary people. a stellaron hunter was not allowed to have an exploitable weakness.

but kafka made an exception. you weren’t anything but her pet beyond these doors but it was necessary. if any harm came to you because of her, kafka would need more than sam, blade, and silver wolf to hold her back.

behind these doors, you’d always be safe in her intricately strung cocoon. “i have a day off tomorrow. i suppose i should reward you for waiting so patiently for me, pup ♡”

#hsr kafka #hsr x reader #honkai sr #kafka x reader #kafka x you #honkai star rail #hsr x you #honkai x reader #honkai kafka #kafka x female reader

[mintelsa]

Thranto wedding designs !!!

In a lot of western military weddings, men often wear their dress uniforms and so that’s what I decided to put them in as a base. The dress uniform is a little fancier than a normal CDF uniform, featuring a sash, more embellished belt, gold epaulets - yes I spelled it wrong on the sheet lol - to display honor chains, and other gold details such as on the boots and gloves (not shown).

Thrawn being a member of one of the Ruling Families wears a burgundy robe over his uniform - burgundy being the Mitth family color - and a long, thick, embroidered cloak/cape custom to him (I like to think he designed it in his twenties, never thinking he’d ever wear it 🥺) The two also wear a gold Mitth family belt buckle.

I wanted Eli to have some Lysatran traditions and decided to go with the exchange of grass/grain wreaths that are made of local plants from their homeworlds. Eli then exchanges his Lysatran wreath with Thrawn’s wreath made out of plants from Rentor, with a vow along the lines of “my home will always be your home”.

To signify Eli’s transition into House Mitth, Thrawn will drape Eli in his cloak/cape - I did steal this from Game of Thrones, see Sansa and Tyrion’s wedding - that is uniquely his. I decided to go with the double snake design that (I think?) comes from the ring Thrawn receives in Chaos Rising.

Hope ya’ll like it :)

#boy wedding #star wars #thrawn #fanart #sw #sw thrawn #eli vanto #star wars fanart #thrawn trilogy #illustration #gay #thranto #grand admiral thrawn #mitth'raw'nuruodo #costume design #thrawn ascendancy #timothy zahn #chiss #chiss ascendancy

[literallyalbertcamus]

okay literally god bless you for writing about angus tully 🧎‍♀️

angus and reader have a “study date” but its just an excuse for mr tully to admire and try and make out with reader :3

(if you’re comfortable writing ofc 🫶)

Can’t Take My Eyes off You – Angus Tully.

(This is the first request for a headcanon i writte since i was twelve, a little short but i did my best. There where 910 words in spanish)

Going to the library that day had been his idea, you were stressed about a chemistry exam, twenty-five percent of your semester grade, which wouldn't have been much if it weren't for your normally deplorable grades in the subject. That's why Angus, being the attentive boyfriend that he is, proposed to help you study. So now there you were, probably the only two people besides the librarian in the building, at one of the back tables hidden behind shelves full of books, side by side with your books and notebooks open on the table.

You two had been in that situation for at least an hour, when you had finally begun to understand the subject matter so he leaned back in the seat with his arms crossed behind his head watching you write flash cards so as not to forget what you had struggled so hard to understand and what Angus had so patiently explained to you. Your hair was tied back but a lock of it fell over your forehead, you were wearing Angus' favorite mini skirt, a burgundy color that contrasted beautifully with your legs in his opinion, you were also wearing a new perfume your mother had given you that smelled exquisite, the last two buttons of your black blouse were undone and a third was threatening to come undone as you bent over to write on the flash cards. Practically a pleasure to look at in your opinion.

Sometimes it was hard for him to believe that you had agreed to be his girlfriend, and watching the sunlight fall on your face softly there in the library was one of those times.

“Do you have much left to write?” He asked you leaning over your shoulder.

“No, just three more cards” you muttered.

He stood in that position watching you write, your handwriting was curved and hurried, not very neat compared to his but he liked that, how authentic you were compared to his world and everything around him.

“Stop looking at me, i need to finish this”

At that he just smiled and moved closer to you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I like your perfume” he murmured into your neck and wrapped his arms around your torso, sometimes he liked to do that when you were together, just hug you and hide his face in your neck “ ‘s really nice... smells like candy”

Your fruity perfume represented exactly your scent in his personal opinion, completely sweet. The truth is that Angus absolutely adored everything about you, from your perfume to the way your hands fit his, or how good your lips felt against his, you were basically God in his eyes and could do no wrong.

“Enough! I need to finish this” you let out a giggle trying to get a little away from him to continue writing “come on, Angus I'm serious!”

“Nop, you’re just so sweet i want to eat you”

He began to spread little pecks down your neck, at first soft and not so close together, at first they caused you nothing but tickles and a slight blush because it was harmless, just his arms around you and his slender long fingers firm on your waist, so you managed to finish one of the cards, then when you leaned over to take another of the pink sheets of paper, Angus took the opportunity to move a little closer, and when you sat down the side of your back was on his chest now leaning towards your body.

“You're such a tease” you mumbled looking sideways at him, his smile bigger after your comment.

“Not my fault i have a total babe in my arms”

That made you stop writing and slowly turn around, his cheeks red as he tried not to start laughing.

“Oh my god! Stop it!”

“Only if you kiss me, doll”

Now the one who was red was you, trying to refocus on the sheet in front of you. Calling you nicknames like "doll" or "baby" had started after one afternoon at the pub where you two overheard a group of Barton boys talking about what girls liked, or at least what girls liked according to them, a group of teenage boys who had never interacted with a girl their age and who's only knowledge of the female body came from the hands of playboy.

You thought it was over when you were halfway through the important information, when you felt Angus' lips on your neck again, this time leaving wet kisses for every corner he had access to, you still weren't going to let him get away with it because that test was really important and you needed to learn that information at least until you finished it. That worked for a while until you were done with that card.

“Oh!”

That vicious bastard bitted you.

“Come on, you've learned all that already! Let me take care of you” he whimpered against your neck, his hands roaming your waist and what he could reach of your legs “You're so smart, there's no way you're going to fail that stupid test!”

“Well... maybe, maybe i can have a little break” you bargained, letting yourself be tempted by the kisses that trailed up from your collarbone to your cheek and down again “But! If you leave a hickey its over” you threatened him seriously as you turned around to drape your leg over his and sit nicely in his lap.

“Yes ma’am”

“Now stop teasing and kiss me right, pretty boy”

#the holdovers #angus tully x reader #dominic sessa #angus tully #lit im camus and now i take requests

[serpentandlily]

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny Part VI Teaser

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny Part VI Teaser

Eris x Archeron!Reader

a/n: here's a lil sneak peek at the next part of this series ^^

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

To your disappointment, when you woke up the next morning, Eris was already gone—the sheets cold on his side. You let out a sigh and got up, blinking the sleep from your eyes. It was only then you realized Willow and Ivy were fretting around the bedroom, the wardrobe doors thrown open and piles of dresses on the floor.

“What on earth are you two doing?”

Your handmaidens jumped in shock at the sound of your voice before Ivy turned to face you. “Oh, Lady, you are awake! Lord Eris requested we pack an overnight bag for you.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “For what?” 

They both shared a glance before shrugging but they couldn’t hide the smiles on their faces. “We can only guess, my Lady, but he did not tell us anything.” 

“Did he at least tell you where he’s taking me?” You sighed but they both shake their heads.

“No,” Willow grumbled, “Which is why we’re struggling to pack. We have no idea what you’ll need.”

But Ivy just smiled brightly. “We’ll just pack a bit of everything. That way you’ll be ready for whatever it is he wants.” 

The look in her eyes told you she knew exactly what Eris wanted and your cheeks turned red. You let out a huff of air before falling back down on your pillows. 

“Oh no, Lady, you mustn’t fall asleep again. We are to escort you to the stables in an hour's time. Willow will run you a bath.” 

You let Willow help you get ready, your mind on Eris and what he had in store for you. Willow dressed you in a long burgundy gown that had a corset styled bodice that clung to your frame and a flowy chiffon skirt. Tiny roses were embroidered along the lighter side panels of the skirt. 

Luckily, it wasn’t long before your handmaidens were presenting you to your mate who was waiting for you at the stables. 

Eris was staring at you with an intensity that had your face full of color. It wasn’t until the two of you were left alone that his infamous fox-like grin spread on his face. He was dressed finely in dark brown breeches with riding boots and a tunic embroidered with small leaves along the seams. 

“Would you like your own horse this time, bunny?”

Right, you did technically know how to ride a horse now. But you shook your head. “May I ride with you?”

“Who am I to deny a lady her request?” Eris purred, extending a hand out to you. Butterflies danced in your stomach as you took it, letting him pull you close so he could lift you onto Marigold, the horse. 

He strapped the overnight bag to the horse before he lifted himself up behind you, wrapping his arms around your body to take the reins in one hand and pulling you back against his chest with his other. Your cheeks turned pink and you let out a content sigh as the warmth from his body combatted the crisp morning air. 

Marigold started her trot into the woods and it was silent for a moment before you spoke. 

"Where are you taking me?"

"It's a surprise," Eris teased.

"I don't like surprises," you pouted.

"No?" Eris's breath tickled the tip of your ear. He moved your hair to one shoulder, granting him access to your throat. He pressed a kiss against the sensitive skin there causing a shiver to run down your spine. "Well, that's too bad, bunny. You're getting one." 

You were smiling without realizing it, so honed into the places Eris's body met yours. The morning birds were chirping, the leaves rustling in the chill autumn wind. It was enchanting. The Autumn woods were quickly becoming a sanctuary for you and your mate. You hadn't felt this happy in a long time. 

You asked Eris an endless amount of questions about the Autumn Court, his brothers and family, and his life during the horse ride to wherever he was taking you. The sun began to set, sending streaks of golden light through the openings in the leaves. It wasn’t until you saw smoke curling around the tops of the tree, that you realized you were nearing your destination. 

Soon, a small cottage nestled between the tall trees appeared. Moss and ivy clung to the outer walls, blending it into the earthy flora surrounding it. A path made of fallen leaves led towards the front door, flanked by wildflowers in various colors. The babbling of a creek met your ears as you squinting to see through the sunlight filtering in through the canopy of trees above. 

“What is this place?” You twisted your head to look up at Eris. 

“One of my personal residences,” Eris answered, staring wistfully ahead. “One few know about.” 

As you drew closer to the cottage, Eris guided Marigold to a stop. He slid off the back, keeping one hand lingering on your waist.

“And you're sharing it with me?” Another secret Eris was willingly divulging to you. He had no idea how much it meant to you. He gave you a charming grin as he helped you down. 

“There is nothing I wouldn’t share with you, bunny. What is mine is yours,” he said. He kissed the top of your head before guiding you into the cottage with a hand on your back. 

As you stepped over the threshold of the hidden cottage, the scent of aged timber and a faint hint of herbs and spices greeted you. A snap of Eris’s fingers had the wood in the fireplace coming to life. Furniture made from weathered oak and mahogany filled the room, now illuminated by the warm glow of a crackling fire in the stone hearth. A plush armchair was nestled beside the hearth, a stack of books on top of it.

In a corner of the room, a spiral staircase wound its way upwards, disappearing into the shadows above. An opening straight ahead showed a peek of a kitchen. You spun as you walked forward, taking it all in before turning back to find Eris staring at you with a small smile. 

“I come here when I need a break from my father and duties,” Eris said, surprising you once again with his candidness. “And I needed to come here today so I didn’t murder my brother for slipping that breeding tonic into your drink last night.” 

Your eyes widened. “Reid?” 

Eris nodded, his jaw clenching. “He claims he did it only to embarrass you a bit at dinner but then my mother sent you away. He says he had no idea that you’d run into those guards.” 

You rubbed your arm, looking down at the floor as the memories of last night flooded your mind. “And you believe him?” 

“I unfortunately do. That doesn’t mean he didn’t face any…consequences for his little prank,” Eris said as he walked towards you. He slipped two fingers under your chin and made you look at him. “But I want you to know, bunny, that nothing like that will ever happen to you again. Do you hear me? I will not let anything happen to you. I don’t care who I have to kill to ensure that.”

“But Eris—”

He placed a finger against your lips, silencing you. “No. No buts. I was blessed with the gift of fire and I will burn down this whole world with no remorse if that's what it takes to keep you safe. Do you understand?” You opened your mouth to rebuke his words but Eris shook his head. “I don’t want to hear any objections. They will change nothing. Just a simple yes or no, bunny. Do you understand?” 

You searched his amber eyes for something, not even knowing what you were looking for. But you knew what you found. A heavy resolve, a promise, a need to protect. And you realized in that moment that you felt all those things as well. You swallowed, audibly. 

“Yes,” you whispered. “I understand.” 

Eris grinned. “Good.”

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x you #acotar x reader #eris acotar #eris imagine #eris fanfic #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris vandaddy #acotar series