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k4vehrtz · 4 months

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⸻ YOU'RE A CRISIS OF MY FAITH

. ✦ . starring — dom!top! t. fushiguro / m! reader

warnings — porn with some plot, sacrilege, a copious amount of religious themes, priest! reader, virgin reader ergo loss of virginity, allusion to homophobia / internalised homophobia, unprotected sex, blowjob (r receiving), deepthroating, fingering, riding, creampie, toji lowkey has a corruption kink, use of the nickname 'angel', toji refers to the reader as father once but that is entirely in a religious sense . ✦ . wc — 2.1k . ✦ . notes — we'll all pretend that didn't just happen!! anyway!! i'm so so normal about toji...and !! i don't know what exactly falls under dark content but seeing as this contains sacrilege you've been warned nevertheless. not proof read bc t**blr stressed me out

“what does —” he stops himself mid-sentence to motion upwards, “the big man upstairs think about homosexuality?”

you swallow hard, your adam’s apple bobbing. you hadn’t expected the question, naturally. especially from the likes of toji fushiguro of all people. but you answer anyway. “well,” you murmur, averting your gaze so that you’d stare out the window as the first signs of winter begin to settle in for its extended stay instead of being forced to meet toji’s pointed gaze. “we all are subject to desires that may or may not reflect god’s light, but these desires aren’t sinful unless you act or encourage others to act on them.”

he nods almost absentmindedly in response before following up with: “…even you, i imagine, as a man of god, could fall victim to such desires?”

and you pause for a beat, your jaw tightening as an image escapes the dark recesses of your mind; the neat box you’ve forced what you deemed unpleasant thoughts into.

the man in your mind didn’t look quite like anyone you knew at first. he was just a man without a name or a face — similarly to the world before god’s divine intervention, he too was without form. but then, by chance, you met toji fushiguro and his teenage son. then the man who’d haunt your thoughts began to change.

he was older, weathered by life experiences and parenting, and taller, maybe 6’2, with messy black hair that fell over his brows. his hair reminded you of the cloudless, starless night sky. then there was that scar on the corner of his right lip. you’d imagined yourself on more than one occasion leaning toward him, pressing your lips against it before he’d open his mouth and let you explore the wet cavern.

though you shake your head as if that would dismiss your thoughts, fingers curling defensively around the window’s ledge. “everyone encounters temptation in their day-to-day, but, like god’s son, we must resist.” you counter eventually. “you’re not one for idle chatter.”

“i’m not,” he agrees, his voice smooth, something akin to the feeling of silk against your skin. it gives you goosebumps and makes the hairs stand up. he puts his hands up in mock surrender, his gaze intent. you can feel him burning holes into the back of your head. “you know, i think i’m long overdue for a confession.”

“as you wish.”

“our heavenly father has declared the following in the book of james, chapter five, verse sixteen: ‘therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. the prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective’. now, in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit, amen.”

silence — and then toji sucks in a breath, his voice thick with an emotion you can’t quite grasp but has you shifting in your seat on the other side of the confessional booth anyway. you’re, on some level, disgusted by your behaviour. it’s unprofessional at best, or perhaps the beginning of your unravelling at worst. you fear it’s the latter.

“bless me, father, for i have sinned,” the words slide off his tongue with ease, “it has been two months since my last confession.” and your eyes flutter closed, or maybe you forced them closed because you feel no better than a pervert by the way you ache at every sound that comes out of his mouth.

either way, you don’t notice the way the door creaks as toji lets himself out of his side of the confessional booth and opens the door to yours until he’s kneeling in front of you, the pads of his fingers digging into your sides. the skin of his fingers is rough, worn out from the different tasks he takes on to keep himself and megumi afloat, you think. he’s become something of a handyman around town.

“to be honest, father,” he says, now directly addressing you. “i came here fer’ your guidance…you see, i’ve been havin’ thoughts lately that i don’t think align with what god wants.” and you find yourself at a loss, your eyes still closed, though your adam’s apple bobs again as you swallow your suppressed thoughts. “my guidance?” you repeat quietly, “confess your…thoughts…then, and seek forgiveness. it’s not a sin unless you act on those thoughts.”

he lets out a pleased hum at that, leaning forward so that his face is practically buried in your clothed crotch. “so,” he counters, “if my understanding is correct, would it be a sin if i told you to spread your legs f’me?”

you don’t trust yourself to speak right now — not when your thoughts are all muddled. so, you simply nod and toji clicks his tongue. “but sin or not, you’re going to anyway because you and i both know how we feel about each other, right? c’mon, use your big boy words and tell me.”

the smart thing—no, the right thing to do here would be to say no. adamantly deny the lingering touches and glances that the two of you had come to share. affection between two men could only go so far. but then again, you’ve gone so much farther in the safety of your bedroom long after the sun has set. how much longer could you shamelessly show your face to the other members of the church and listen to them confess their deepest secrets to you? you’re parading as a righteous man when you’re anything but.

if it turns out to be as bad of a sin as they say, god will strike you down.

turns out it’s not as bad of a sin as they say — or maybe it is and you’ve yet to receive divine punishment.

“god works in mysterious ways,” you say under your breath but toji hears it anyway. how could he not when you’re in such proximity to each other? you hadn’t meant to say it out loud but it doesn’t matter. and toji (ever the charmer) takes it upon himself to respond, “maybe he brought us together for a reason…or maybe i’m one of lucifer’s lackeys sent to seduce you.”

you make the conscious decision to ignore that which seems to entertain toji even more. he’s ridiculous in ways you can’t fathom. like…the way he’s got your legs spread, back pressed firmly against the wood of the confessional, your thighs trembling as he clicks his tongue, “spread yer’ legs a little wider f’me angel, s’not enough f’me to suck that pretty cock.”

he… he knows what he’s doing. whereas you were clumsy and inexperienced. but, to be fair, you had taken a vow of celibacy when you were twelve.

now, though, you’re experiencing true pleasure for the first time — and with a man, no less. you tilt your head back in what little space the confessional affords you as toji gives your balls tentative touches, maybe light squeezes, as he aligns the head of your leaking cock with his mouth. you’re embarrassed, warmth flooding your cheeks, but you can’t look away. not when this is all you’ve ever wanted.

there’s pre-cum on his lips; your pre-cum. it’s there, as clear as day, and he’s entirely unbothered. all of his attention is on your cock. your cock that’s throbbing as he sucks on it. pre-cum and saliva mixing. it’s all so new to you.

as for him…well isn’t this cute? you’re trying your hardest to stifle those needy moans of yours, he can tell. but no matter how much you bite down on your lower lip or how you press your hands against your mouth those pretty sounds you make always find a way of escaping. part of him, somewhere deep down, feels guilty for corrupting you like this. but perhaps he doesn’t feel guilty enough.

he continues to work on your cock, sucking on it whilst simultaneously fondling with your balls. you’re quivering, rutting your hips forward now and then. occasionally you go too far and it scares you at first — you didn’t mean to push your cock all the way to the back of his throat! ever the unbothered, though, he welcomes it until you’re spurting your load down his throat. and he swallows, utterly content.

then he coos at you, bringing a thumb up to your face, and tracing the outline of your jaw. “don’t worry about me, angel, you’re not going to hurt me. what you’re going to do f’me is let me reposition us so i can see your pretty boy hole, m’kay? my boy can do that f’me, right?”

my boy. the idea of being his. after so long…it only feels right. so, you allow him to readjust your position so that you’re straddling his lap and somewhere in the process you both disregard your clothes.

“you’ve been thinking about my cock? that’s why yer’ hole is winking f’me? all ready to take my cock like a big boy?” he asks and you nod your head eagerly. every word that comes out of his mouth is dirty but your reactions are the icing on the cake. you’re not the quiet, unassuming priest he met by chance all those months back. and to think that he’s the reason why.

well, he doesn’t linger on the thought. you’re impatient, squirming on his thighs in search of friction. but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t get him going and he may be many things but he would not force himself into you without properly preparing you to take him.

so as much as you whine about it, he ultimately takes his time with you. the nearest lubricant happened to be some sort of oil, but he made sure that it was safe to use before coating his fingers in a generous amount. then he oh so carefully drags his finger across your hole. it makes you shudder, but after a few minutes of this, you find yourself unprepared for the stretch of fitting a singular digit in. it hurts and the moment you so much as whimper toji’s pressing his lips against yours. the same lips that were around your cock only moments ago. his lips are gentle, soothing, even.

and he keeps it like that — his lips against yours as he slowly introduces more fingers into your ass. it takes a while but your pained whimpers soon morph into more desperate, filthy little noises as he drags his fingers in and out of your hole before curling them, tips grazing your prostate.

you want it, you decide. his cock, that is. you want his cock in your ass beyond a reasonable doubt. it’s all you need. bouncing on his fingers feels good but you just know that his cock would feel so much better.

“this is a sin, we’re both sinning,” you announce, your words strong but your delivery coming in between laboured gasps as his fingers continue to graze your prostate. “so i expect you to fuck me like you mean it.”

and he doesn’t need to be told twice. with a scoff — one that sounds more amused than annoyed — he pulls his fingers out of you. shaking his head as you whimper at the loss. but it’s soon replaced by something bigger and much thicker. it’s his cock, covered in the same oil, and you almost can’t believe it when he’s aligning it with your entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscle.

you have to take a few breaks before you fully sink on him with a low groan. he makes you feel so full and he hasn’t even moved yet. and when you take it upon yourself to ride him you revert to the softheaded boy he makes you out to be.

your movements are clumsy — mediocre, you’re sure of it. but toji doesn’t intervene. he simply leans back, big, warm hands on your hips, while you figure out your rhythm. and after a few failed attempts you find one that works for both of you. it feels good, it feels great even. his hard cock filling you to the brim while you all but mindlessly bounce on his cock, your walls clenching around his throbbing length.

you’re going to cum soon, you’re sure of it. and when you do eventually watch through teary eyes as your cock spurts ropes of cum onto his stomach you’re not surprised whatsoever. toji, however, takes a lot longer to cum. you’ve probably cum at least two more times by the time toji takes control, his grip on your hips tightening as he angles you just the right way to hit your prostate with each thrust of his hips upwards. your toes curl, eyes half-lidded, and you just barely acknowledge the warmth of his semen in your ass.

all you can think of, and just barely manage to stutter out is: “you’ve fucked me,” and he stares up at you with a smug smile, chest heaving as he copes with his orgasm that has been a long time coming, “yeah, i’ve fucked yer’ pretty boy hole.”

#x male reader smut #x bottom male reader #toji x male reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk x y/n #x sub male reader #jjk x male reader #toji fushiguro #toji smut

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emaraolesereni · 2 years

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#Incredible Hotel Amenities #best five-star hotel in Nairobi

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 days

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fairest city food culture

This is a supplementary post to continue off of this larger TWST food culture compilation post (as that one is getting super long as is). Here, I'll cover all the new food-related lore dropped about the Shaftlands and specifically about Fairest City, which features in the Tapis Rouge event.

Shaftlands

Macarons are one of the Shaftlands' signature sweets. Cream and raspberry, as well as lychee, are the popular flavors at the moment.

Macarons can be frozen so recipients can eat them fresh.

There are people who collect the stylish boxes that macarons come in.

According to Vil, mixing flavored syrups with carbonated liquids is common in the Shaftlands.

Stewed foods are the Shaftlands' specialty. This is because there are many stories about the Fairest Queen preparing many foods in a pot.

Apples are the most popular fruit in the Shaftlands. They are used for drinks, desserts, jams, and even savory meal items.

Fairest City

There are few food stands in Fairest City. This is because eating on the streets is seen as bad manners.

There is a strong cafe culture.

Fairest City is famous for its cuisine and sweets. Their sweets in particular are well developed due to the city's cafe culture.

Sweets with a pleasant appearance are popular. The most famous of patisseries make sweets which are like pieces of art.

Some sweets featured in famous patisseries include tarts, chocolate, mousse, macarons, brioche, roll cakes, financiers, mille-feuilles, and cakes shaped like apples with apple sauce inside, caramel apples, etc.

A specialty of Fairest City is "cream puff rings", which are cream puffs in ring shapes. They are meant to resemble wheels on rail cars, since Fairest City is located near mines. It is said that the cream puff rings (which is filled with a thick, high-calorie cream) were originally given to hard-working miners to restore their energy.

Luxury stores may offer amenities in addition to providing their services or helping customers shop. For example, staff may offer VIP clients drinks or chocolates.

Fairest City’s hotels have swanky restaurants built into them for guests to dine in. The fanciest of eating establishments are five star restaurants that have full sets of cutlery and napkins which you unfold and place in your lap.

Fancy dining establishments offer food à la carte (ordered by the plate) and prix fixe style (picking your courses from a predetermined selection).

There is a drink called “Diabolo Menthe” served in Fairest City. It is a spearmint flavored syrup mixed with a slightly carbonated liquid. Very refreshing! (This is most likely a reference to the potion that the Evil Queen drinks to transform into an old woman.)

Eric Venue, Vil’s famous movie star father, uses a five-star restaurant to cater buffets for his movie shoots for every 6 hours of work. They also have snacks and drinks on demand (“craft services”), which includes coffee, milk, tea, juice, chocolate, fruits, and pancakes and waffles. Lots of light foods!

Many dishes at high-class eateries are French. For example, hors d’oeuvres might include escargot (snails), foie gras de canard (duck foie gras), and terrine a la campagne (country-style terrine). Courses are also named in French (viande and poisson courses, etc.).

Some dishes served include boeuf bourguignon (a beef and red wine stew) filet mignon de porc aux pruneaux (a pork filet with dried plum; it is made with pig heart, bouillon, and sauce), and flounder poêlé (flounder with an herb sauce). The beef bourguignon is a favorite dish in the five-star hotel restaurant that caters for Eric Venue.

Pork, especially the heart, is prized meat in Fairest City. Many of its dishes are pork-based. There is a story about how the Fairest Queen needed a heart for one of her potions and had her huntsman hunt as a tribute to her; the filet mignon de porc aux pruneaux dish was born from this legend.

The restaurant that caters for Eric Venue has a specialty dessert called tart fine pomme. It is a thin tart with slices apples. The restaurant uses the highest quality of apples (from Harveston), which are grown in a special soil, for their dishes and drinks.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst resource #twisted wonderland resource #notes from the writing raven #tapis rouge in the shaftlands spoilers

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chrollohearttags · 8 months

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sweetest release • e. jaeger

“I touch myself just thinking of you…”

it’s never easy having a bad day, but your best friend is more than happy to help you get over it.

content + themes: phone/FaceTime sex, mutual/guided masturbation, fluff + angst, pillow humping, plus size, black!fem reader, praise kink, some sweet affirmations, slight mentions of body dysmorphia + sexual harassment and discrimination (racism and intersectionality are touched on too..yeah I got a little deep in this 😭) eren being the sweetest dom :(, squirting, crying from reader (not dacryphilia), cumshot

📝: and just so we’re clear, this is not me downplaying these topics or desecrating them for just sex. This was just something I wanted to touch on a bit because I was having this conversation with someone not too long ago and it’s based an audio I heard that just made me cry so yeah 🥹

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈

“I told you, I’m fine. No need to worry about me, babyboy..promise.”

“You sure? Because I don’t think you are. You’ll feel better if you talk about it.”

“And bore you half to death with my stupid ass problems? I’d rather not.”

back and forth banter ensued in the now thirty minute conversation between (y/n) and the only person you’d allow to be on your line at this time of night..

“(Y/N), don’t ever say some stupid shit like that ever again. What do you think I’m here for?”

as you exited your bathroom, swaddled in a fluffy, warm towel and a bonnet atop your head, you’d listen to the sound of clicking buttons on the other end. Eren, your right hand and long time best friend was nearly fifty miles away back on campus at you guys’ university. Where he was a star basketball player. The two of you had just entered your sophomore year when you got offered an exciting opportunity to intern for your dream company…a marketing firm However, the one prerequisite was to relocate for a couple weeks. Which wasn’t exactly a bad thing; as you were provided pretty cozy living amenities in a five star hotel overlooking the beach but considering the fact that you didn’t necessarily get along with the rest of the potential recruits. You were feeling a bit down, especially after one of the other interns made a rather off comment about your ‘full, voluptuous figure’ and ‘giant afro’ in comparison to your very..thinner, paler cohorts and how it could be a distraction. Normally, you’d be quick to flash on someone but this wasn’t a chance you’d get again so you had to bite your tongue. Fortunately, the execs did not tolerate this outlandish commentary and sent his ass packing but you were still a little self conscious. Of course, you confided in Eren about this and he was pissed. Saying how he’d whoop dude’s ass if he was there and not to let his stupid remark get to you. But it made you feel cheap..as if your body and hair would deter you from doing your job!

“Listen, don’t let that dumbass make you feel bad about yourself. He’s gone now..hell, if you send me his address, I might pay him a little visit.” Winking into the camera, which you’d just shrug off because you knew he was serious! It wasn’t the first time he had beat someone’s ass in your honor and he’d do it time and again. Besides, he didn’t like the idea of somebody eyeing his girl. Whether you guys were dating or not, you were forever his. As he clicked away at his PlayStation controller, you continued getting ready for bed. Still sporting nothing more than that fluffy bath linen.

“…I wish I looked like everybody else sometimes..” The sudden declaration taking Eren off guard because he truly couldn’t understand as to why you’d feel that way all of a sudden. Granted, he wasn’t in your shoes and being objectified would make anyone uncomfortable but you had nothing to worry about anymore. Outside of that one incident, your trip had been a very positive experience. Everyone was super kind and no one else had even dared to make such a stupid comment. They were truly committed to making their future, potential employees feel welcomed and safe. Not to mention, you were beautiful..stunning. He told you that everyday. But that wasn’t the true reason you felt so down..

“Like, every time I feel good about myself or think I look good, somebody reminds me that I’m different..shit’s annoying, y’know? If it’s not my size, it’s my color. If it’s not my color, then it’s the way I speak or a fucking hairstyle. Can’t do anything right, I guess..I don’t know what to do, baby boy. I just want to be seen for my hard work and not my appearance. I can’t change who I am and I shouldn’t have to—“

by this point, you were feigning back some serious tears and Eren had heard quite enough of this! He couldn’t believe that the girl he first met in choir class his freshman year of high school..the one he nearly stared a hole through because he thought you were so pretty was even considering that you were anything less than perfect. The same one that saw his little nerdy ass and befriended him without a second thought. You guys had come a long way in your roller coaster of a relationship but too far for him to sit here and let you sit here and talk about yourself like this. Understandably, he’d never be able to walk a day in your shoes or understand your hardships, navigating this life as a woman with your skin tone or body type but he wanted you to feel as if this was your world and everyone else on this bitch was just living in it. None of that ever mattered to him, he wasn’t raised like that and it infuriated him that people were so ignorant! It wasn’t a topic that you guys avoided either. If he was going to be in your life, he wanted to truly hear everything you went through. From people that looked like him down to the guys that looked like you, everyone had an opinion or negative thought. You were over it. He may not have been there physically but he was going to be with you..mind, body and spirit to help you. And he had just the plan.

“(Y/N)…lay down.”

the sudden shift in his voice and tone catching you slightly off guard, so much so, you’d ask him to repeat his rather off request.

“What are you talking—“

“Just lay down and please don’t argue with me. I promise this isn’t another one of my stupid jokes.”

you had no idea what it was he was planning but alas, you followed his command regardless. Slowly, you’d crawl on to the bed and lie flat on your back. By now, your phone was lying on the night stand and you couldn’t see him but you could hear your best friend’s voice loud and clear. Which was more than enough for what he had planned. And indicative of his tone, he was pretty serious about whatever scheme was circulating his mind.

“I’m laying down, just like you said..now what?” And nothing could truly prepare you for what was about to transpire but he promised he was going to make you feel ten times better..

“Good, so close your eyes for a second and just take a couple deep breaths…you’re so tense right now, I can feel it from here.”

and he was right! Your jaw was clenched tight enough to shatter your teeth into tiny pieces. So you’d do as he asked and take in a deep breath before exhaling. Repeating the same step three times until you felt that tension ease up a bit. Just as you went to get up, he’d command you right back down, telling you that this little makeshift therapy session was far from finished. “Just listen to me for a second..I know it’s hard going through what you do. People are assholes, what else can I say? It pisses me off, it always has and trust me, I’d fight the whole world for you if I could make it go away but I can’t..and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, pretty girl. I’m sorry they don’t see your worth. But I don’t ever want to hear you think any less of yourself just because they’re too fucking stupid to see past their own prejudice.”

you guys weren’t exactly expecting this conversation to become so deep and intense but now that it was, he wanted you to focus on pouring that energy back into yourself. To stop thinking about people who were committed to misunderstanding you and only worry about yourself. It was all about his precious (y/n) right now. Just then, you began to sniffle a bit and your face flushed with holding back from crying but this was only beginning.

“Ren..”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything right now. I just want you to feel good. Only tears I wanna see are the ones of joy, alright?”

his next order was for you to truly get in tune with your own body. Let all of those emotions out and not bottle them up as you had done so many times before. As you lied there, hands folded across your stomach and eyes shut, still clothed in that towel, he’d ask you to slowly remove it and unfold it to either side..rendering you nude. He couldn’t see you at the moment, but if he were there right now..he’d give you the sweetest kisses. Starting at your lips, down your neck and even to your thighs…he’d peck you all over so gently whilst rubbing your soft, gorgeous skin and tell you how beautiful you were..that he loved every inch of you and everything about you. But he’d settle for doing it vicariously.

“Take your hands and just feel down your body for a second..it sounds weird but try it. Real slow..don’t even look. Just touch yourself.” and not in a sexual way either..he had quite the reason for this as well. One you had never truly thought of. “I used to struggle with the way I looked for a long time. It seemed like no matter what I did, I’d never get bigger. Even when I worked out, I was still small. Turns out, I had a lot of growing up to do..and a lot of vegetables to eat.” Prompting you both to laugh. “But I realized that even if I done all of that to change how I looked on the outside..if I felt the same about myself on the inside, there was no point. So as corny as the shit sounds, being comfortable in your own skin is the key.”

everything he was saying was beginning to make sense and the tension in your body was starting to dissolve..slowly, you’d caress your skin..from those supple breasts, pudgy tummy and down to your thick thighs..feeling every line, bump and curve and falling deeper in love with it as the seconds passed. That quiver in your lip turned to a smile. That slight tremble in you turned to complete relaxation and your mind went to a place of tranquility. One where you imagined Eren hovering above you right now with his hands on your hips as he kissed below your bellybutton. On your mound and all..but he didn’t want you thinking that far yet.

“Do you feel yourself, baby? How beautiful you are?…how soft your skin is?…that body is perfect. It goes through so much..so many things me and no other man could ever imagine but it’s still perfect.” his words, voice and all so soothing and alluring. Like a giant, comforting hug after a long day. Exhaling softly, you’d continue touching all over your body, in no specific direction at all but that was about to change. “Mhmmm. I can feel it.” “Yeah? Well, I wanna hear you say it..I wanna hear you say how beautiful you are. Tell me right now.” you’d repeat the words back to him as he called out the cadence. “I’m beautiful..my body is beautiful.” “That’s right. And you’re so in love with yourself that it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks because you look in the mirror and you see perfection. You see someone God took his time on. A work of art. You’re priceless..” his affirmations were about to make you burst into full blown sobbing yet again but you’d hold it together, repeating everything he said just as he instructed. He could tell you these things all day long but until you truly said it, believed and felt it yourself, you’d never overcome that hurdle. So a few seconds later, he’d ask you to cup your breasts..groping those soft tits in your palms and soft pinching your nipples, you awaited his next move. You’d shift the phone so that you could see him but he requested that you keep your eyes closed. The sole point was to solely be in tune with yourself right now..

“There you go..rub on your titties for me.” it may have sounded as if he was gassing you for no reason but every word he spoke, he meant it. “You know many people would pay for what you have? You’re so fucking fine, baby. You have no idea.” He knew many girls that would constantly ask him who did his best friend’s surgery because you were so thick and stacked. Saying that you were like a goddess..and he agreed. He would kiss the ground you walked on if it was allowed! And of course, he’d ask you to tell him what you loved about your body, and even if it seems redundant, it was necessary. The more you spoke it into existence, the more you’d believe them. Suddenly, he’d tear you began to whimper and moan, thinking of how cute you looked. Squirming on that bed, especially when he began to fill your head with all of the desires he had as well. “Those pretty little nipples too…you always liked having them played with too. I wish I was there to kiss them, lick them…” his voice so sensual and loving as always when he spoke to you. He had this nature about him that made you so easily submit..

“So you’re gonna do it f’r me. Gonna touch yourself wherever I say, right?” “Mhmph! Yeah..”

he couldn’t help but to smile at your sudden falter in voice as the sensitively of those buds increased and your experienced your first pang of pleasure. He wanted you to absorb all of those sweet things he said to you…internalize them and never forget who you were. Carefully eyeing you, his phone angled from an upright position where you could see his abs and handsome face. “Good girl..now run that hand down your stomach..just feel on it. How soft it is. It’s my favorite part of you, honestly. I love when you let me kiss on it. Lay my head on it when you come over..” He was so pleased to see you following his command and letting him take control. He wanted to completely reset your mind. Just then, Eren would shuffle in his seat and watch as your tongue spilled from between your lips. “P-play with me, ‘Ren. Wanna see you too..” and of course, he was elated to join in. Wiggling his hips, he’d work them down until his lower half was exposed and his cock sprang out, slapping against his bellybutton. He’d cup his shaft and run his fingers along the veiny part, which made him suck his teeth.

“See what you do to me, pretty girl? ‘M so hard just thinking about you. Nobody else makes me feel like that.”

slowly, he began to stroke himself..all whilst trying to maintain that dominion. But the more he imagined doing these acts, the less disciplined he became but for you? He pulled himself together. He still had far more to dote on you about. “Tell me, pretty girl. How do you feel right now? Be honest with me.” Checking in as he kept massaging himself and stealing glances as you squeezed, touched and admired your own flesh. “I’m good…feeling so much better.” “I’m so glad, baby. That’s all I wanna hear..all I—ahh shit.” Becoming one with yourself was some of the best advice you’d ever received. You’d begin to feel faint twitching between your thighs, prompting you to brush against a pillow you had meshed between them. Eren would definitely notice and grant you permission to grind on it, chuckling.. “Go ahead, baby..rub your clit against that pillow. Anything to make yourself feel good right now…this is all about you. Don’t hold back for me or anyone else.” and like a helpless pup, you’d rut your hips into that silk lined linen and bite down on your thumb as you pictured him down there, flicking his tongue against your wetness and eating you out slowly. Hiding your face into your palm, you’d work yourself over and try to feign those expressions.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to be ashamed of it…you deserve this. You work so hard and God, I’m so proud of you, (y/n). My babygirl always handles her business, stays on her shit..I’m so in love with you. Not just for the way you look but your mind, your soul..it’s all so beautiful..you deserve all the love, the care…to be given everything you want, baby.” in combination with those sweet words and your clit being massaged, (y/n) began to work yourself into a tizzy; pleasured senseless and drooling as that orgasm began to build in the pit of that plump little tummy; which collided with the pillow. Still pinching those nipples and whining out, you’d cry out for Eren, begging him to keep encouraging you. To give you those instructions and what to do next…alas, he’d keep thrusting up into his own enclosed fist and release a chorus of sexy grunts.

“I’d give you everything you want. The type of love making you deserve. I’d let you know how beautiful you are while I’m fucking you slow. The type of deep strokes you love so much. The ones where you’re digging in my back..calling me daddy and telling me not to stop. They’re my favorite too, baby..I’ll fuck you just like that when you come home.” he was so vocal, outright letting you know exactly how he felt. And there wasn’t a single doubt that he was bluffing. He was obsessed with you! Literally so infatuated that he wanted nothing more than to be with you right now. To hold you close and protect you from anyone who thought you were less than amazing. Those dimmed green eyes focused on you as he tried to ward off the urge to come right now. He had to get you there before he could..but first…“You’re so close now though…I know you wanna come. Let all that stress out but I need you to do one last thing for me, okay? Flip over..” and without hesitation, you’d roll over onto your back, still clutching that pillow between your fingers and legs, holding onto it as you were afraid if you halted that friction, you’d combust right now. However, he knew exactly what you needed for that final push. You’d spread your legs wide open, massaging that overstimulated center for as long you could withstand and suddenly, you’d find yourself writhing atop those crisp sheets.

“I can’t let you come until I hear you say it..until you tell me that you love yourself as much as I do.”

and just then, all of those positive comments and self love he forced you to pour back into your own psyche plagued your mind. They deeper in and you came to the realization he had been waiting for you to reach. Exhaling and gasping sharply, (y/n)‘s back arched and you clutched the sheets, crying out his name as you neared that peak even further. “I-I love myself. I love myself so much! Oh my gosh!…” in that moment, Eren flashed a warm smile, and praised you for your resilience. “Good girl…now, same time..”

right on the brink of climatic bliss, you rubbed until you could no longer hold back and simultaneously, the two of you released all of that tension and built up arousal. A flood of juices splattering the mattress and a flood of emotions hitting you like a truck. Like a tightly wrapped bow..a spring coiled too high..you let it all go and it felt..

“So good…so fucking good! Shit…”

just then, Eren would glance over, still strumming out and playing with strings of his own nut to see you in full blown hysterics. Crying those sweet tears of joy he had hoped for and he was equally as happy. “Good, baby. That’s all I need to hear. I don’t ever want you hurting..feeling bad about yourself. Not as long as I’m around.”

and you knew it to be true, especially after tonight. Something told you, you would never have to worry about a bad day or clouds over your head with an amazing man like him in your life.

“As long as you keep letting me love you, pretty girl.”

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piratefishmama · 8 months

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Finders Givers | Part 4

Steve Harrington had faced a lot of daunting things in his lifetime. He’d dealt with a lot of intimidating people, criminals of all shapes and sizes, he’d dealt with the lot of them with a calm finesse that earned a level of respect he didn’t really think he deserved. A lot of it was posturing. An insane amount of right out of the gate confidence that covered up just how much of an idiot he could actually be at times.

The confidence was all those people saw. It was his own people that knew how much of an overprotective dork he was, so it was his own people who felt most at ease around him. Like sure, he had Lola, his baseball bat riddled with nails for intimidation, and sure he’d used it a few times, but only in self-defence, and only against the most unsavoury of people.

The last one was Creel, and he hadn’t even been the one to use it.

Seeing the cause of his current insanity just… there, in the flesh, no longer in a groady fast food place uniform, looking good enough to eat well… he was only human.

Forgive him if he forgot how to word for a minute.

Luckily, once Robin recovered, she rose from her seat, rounded it, and motioned her arm as if presenting them to him.

“Steve, meet Eddie Munson and his roommate Chrissy Cunningham, tenants of the block of apartments you purchased. Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham, please allow me to introduce my very own single—” she winked at Eddie, both in reference to his own earlier quip about Chrissy, and because hint hint, he’s pathetically single and clearly pining, Steve’s eyes snapped to her face, although she gave him no time to shut her up as she continued “—platonic life partner, Steve Harrington, the guy in charge.” Eddie loved her already, Chrissy was cutely hiding her smile behind her hand. “They’re here asking questions about the letter we sent regarding the rent forgiveness and renovations.”

The one she’d not looked over. The one Nancy had rushed out. The one she wished she’d have seen before it went out just to make sure she had some kind of explanation ready and waiting should anyone pop by asking questions.

“O-oh! Oh yeah, yep, I know, your door isn’t soundproof hence the uhm—the entrance, I can probably answer a few questions, maybe even get some ideas and opinions from you guys, we don’t wanna go into the renovations not knowing what our tenants need so—” he let the sentence just hang there as he motioned out toward the hallway.

“Wait so you’re not just… doing stuff randomly, you want us to basically ask you for things, and you’ll give them to us?” Chrissy asked, rising from her seat since Eddie was still a little struck stupid over the most beautiful man on the planet and the fact that he was single. Eddie was also trying to figure out where he’d seen this guy before too because that was a face you didn’t just forget.

“Well… that’d make the whole process a lot smoother, right?”

Eddie finally shook his head free of his barnacle-like thoughts to ask a very simple, “Why?” If he didn’t have Steve Harrington’s attention before, he did now, those beautiful baby cow eyes staring right into his soul, warming it up like a soul toaster oven. “Ehem—why are you doing this? Why should we believe that you’re just… doing it for the sake of doing it? Nobody is that philanthropic, especially rich people, no offense but that’s like… the opposite of what rich people usually do.” Toaster oven was just slow enough to let him get those icy thoughts out before they could be fed to it to be warmed and buttered up. God he wanted some toast.

“Key word being usually.” Steve shot back, hazel eyes dancing in amusement, criminally handsome smile on his lips, damn him. “They won’t be palaces, they won’t be penthouse suites or comparable to five star suites, but I’d like to make them comfortable, safe, I’d like to make sure the electrics work, the heating system is up to date and make sure you have all the amenities you could need, I’d ask you not to take the piss with your requests, of course… but… if it’s reasonable I’m quite happy to provide it.”

“And what do you want in return for this?” There was always a catch, a devils contract for sure, too good to be true, there had to be a catch.

Steve looked at him for a moment, smile slipping from his face as he looked Eddie up and down, then… a slow, almost deadly grin seemed to curl at his lips, damn near predatory in its appearance, it sent a shiver down Eddie’s spine, dread licking at his bones.

Evil. That was evil, he was—

“Your soul, Eddie Munson.” Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit ho— “snerk” Steve snorted, that expression disappearing, replaced by one drenched in amusement “I’m kidding! You’re so easy, Munson. I’m not the devil, calm down.” Chrissy was giggling, the traitor, Robin looked exhausted, probably used to the antics, Eddie could feel his heart trying to escape his chest through his throat, could feel his cheeks warm in embarrassment.

“You—you didn’t answer my question.”

“I own where you live, I don’t have to answer your question.” Steve winked at him. The beautiful bastard. “I would however love it if you worked with me here. It’d just be nice for my tenants to get along with me, don’t you agree?” He was like some kind of snake, a sneaky little snake, charming but scheming “I’m also buying a local bar too, I don’t intend to change it all that much but—”

“You’re the one buying the Hideout?” Chrissy’s eyes widened, cutting him off as if she couldn’t help herself “why?”

“I want it.” So simple. He really didn’t have to answer any questions. And if he did answer, he wouldn’t give the full story. Suspicious, he was suspicious. “Owner isn’t staying on staff when the purchase goes through though obviously, I believe he’s retiring to the tropics, so I’ll need new staff, wouldn’t happen to know of anyone who needs a job would you?” A scheming, snakey snake of a man.

Eddie didn’t have to play to his tune though “Nope, I don’t know a single person in this whole world who needs a job right now thanks though.”

Chrissy didn’t share his scepticism though, happy to offer a chipper little “we just lost our jobs!”

“Traitor” he hissed.

“Oh hush, Teddy-bear, he’s harmless!” Steve grinned, oh yeah, totally harmless that one “we know a few guys who’d be great at it too, Gareth has bartending experience, remember?”

“Mixing two cocktails at a house warming party does not count as bartending experience.”

“They were good cocktails though, Eddie, you had like, six of them.”

“And I stand by the fact that each one tasted different!”

“But you LIKED them!”

“That’s not how bartending works! They have to taste the same each time!”

“Fine, he knows how to make SIX slightly different cocktails.”

Across the room, Steve leaned just a little closer to Robin just to quietly ask “is this what we look like to outsiders?”

“God I hope not” Robin knew better though, it was exactly how they looked to outsiders.

“Alright guys!” Steve stepped forwards, closer to the bickering pair. “I have quite a bit to do today as you can probably imagine, so how’s about we discuss this further over… say… dinner?” He could feel Robin’s incredulous stare boring holes into the back of his head. Ignoring it. Ignoring it. “You’re both more than welcome.” He was clearly looking at Eddie though.

“I’m busy” Chrissy was quick to answer before Eddie could object “but Eddie… Eddie is totally free, aren’t you Eddie?” His mouth still open from where she’d beaten him to the punch, now looking between them both in bafflement.

“Uhm—I… uh—heh—no, nope, nope not free, not free at all in the slightest c’mon Chrissy let’s just go home!” He grabbed her hand in a flurry of flustered panic “we’ve gotten all we came to get so thanks for the rent free living!” Steve didn’t stop him as he pulled an objecting Chrissy along with him out the door in a rush “We want a dishwasher!” He yelled over his shoulder as he pulled her down the hall to the elevator, leaving Harrington and Buckley behind, missing the exact moment when Robin whacked Steve around the back of the head with her papers, and called him an idiot.

Part 6

#PirateWrites #FindersGiversFiclet #Steddie #Mob Boss Steve Harrington #No Upside Down AU #Shady!Steve #CW: light-hearted stalker vibes

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mwolf0epsilon · 4 months

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Shadowing Assessments

Cody, sitting down at midmeal with Rex to check up on current affairs: Hey Rex, how are you holding-- Rex, glancing at Cody looking all kinds of disheveled and tired to the bone: Hey Codes... Cody, shocked by his little brother's state: Stars, what the heck happened to you?! Rex, sighing: You know how the Jedi Council decided to temporarily divide the 105th into squads and send them off to shadow other battalions? Cody: Yes? It's to assess their capability to work with other Jedi, since we couldn't be sure they would trust the generals after what Krell put them through. Rex: And you know how the 501st took on their veteran troopers as a squad, because we thought we might have a better chance at connecting with them? Cody: Yes, I remember you being very adamant about it when we were getting squads assigned... Are they not adapting to the new arrangements? Rex, hiding his face in his hands and groaning loudly: That's... One way of putting it... -glancing over to the other corner of the mess hall- Cody, looks as well and gawks at what appears to be a full on brawl between 3 members of the 105th and 3 others of the 501st: What is going on over there?! Rex: So, it turns out that the Jedi were right to suspect Krell's men aren't overly cooperative. They just didn't realize to what extent and, stupidly, neither did we... Cody: Meaning? Rex: Cody, they don't trust anyone. Not even vode. And those who do usually stick to tiny groups. Which means, anything and everything is seen as either a threat or a challenge for dominance. Cody, visibly confused and concerned: D-Dominance? Rex: Krell had a twisted system of some sort. If I got it right then I think you had to earn amenities under him by gaining favor. This means food, sleep, medical treatment and equipment weren't readily given to them unless they pleased Krell in some way. Which means the 105th had to compete with each other at literally everything to earn what little a clone should have available to them... Cody, repulsed by what he's hearing: That's disgusting. And barbaric. How did no one notice this?! Rex: I know, trust me I know and I honestly wish I could get my hands on whatever natborn officers let this slip. The worst part is, no matter how hard I've tried, I haven't managed to get them to see General Skywalker and Commander Tano won't deny them things, or punish them for something as minor as breathing too loudly. Nor will they reward them for bashing each other's faces in over a place in the mess hall line... Cody, looking back at the brawl: Is that why they're fighting over there? For a place in line? Rex, looking at the group: ... Hm, no I think James just felt like antagonizing Jesse. And Fives tried to mediate but he got shoved back and collided with Lobo, who didn't take kindly and attacked him. Which is when Tup and Caprichoso got involved. Cody: ... Should we do something? Rex: I tried but... -points behind him- Cody, looks: Carno, sitting in the next table over staring at Rex while breathing heavily which his helmet vocoder transmits rather threateningly: Cody, blinking slowly: Carno, shakes his still helmeted head slowly in warning: Cody: .... I think we need a new approach to this problem. Rex: No kidding. If they can't work with other clones they won't have much of a future as troopers... And I'd rather not sign off on that kind of flimsywork. Cody: I'm sure we'll find a solution. We just need to figure out what works for them...

#star wars #the clone wars #commander cody #captain rex #clone ocs #105th battalion #krell's battalion #anti 501st #Carno and his crew aren't adapting well and Rex is very tired and very worried #they might have to find an alternative because serving with other jedi and clones doesn't seem like the right option right now

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year

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what about a yandere that has enough power in the world, that to keep there darling trapped they dont need a basement. no matter what the darling does like flee the country or change identity the yandere will just decide they want to spend time with them and less than a hour later there there to have a "date"

tw - unhealthy relationships, financial abuse, implied dub/non-con.

it's really not that bad, once you get past the '24/7 surveillance, total lack of bodily autonomy, forced to depend on a rich stalker who's obsessed with you' part. they make sure you have everything you could ever want - a walk-in closet full of brand-name clothes, a small legion of personal chefs and attendants, a two-story penthouse with more than enough amenities to keep you busy while they're away - and they're not afraid to let you roam (even if they would rather keep you inside), always taking you out to five-star restaurants, always insisting that you sit on their lap while they discuss 'local politics' with their 'business partners' in the V.I.P. of some shady, smoke-filled club. they even let you get away, sometimes, forget to lock a door or overlook the key-card you stole out of their jacket pocket, pretend they haven't found the little pile of cash you've been keeping in the very back of your closet and let you stay out for two, maybe three days before they pick you up at whatever shitty motel you've been staying at and take you on the date they've been planning for months, now.

it's one of the advantages of operating the way they do - brutally, bloodily, with a reputation as widespread as their investments. there's nothing you could possibly do to get away from them, but they're fair with you, all-in-all, even if they do demand a little love from their precious darling, every once in a while.

it's not like you have another choice, not when your doting partner is so resourceful.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere theory #general

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better-call-mau1 · 1 month

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> Hondo Ohnaka, to the surprise of friends and enemies alike, builds up a legitimate business after the fall of the Empire

> Hondo’s pride and joy is his five-star Chandrillan hotel-and-casino, The Monkey-Lizard

> Hondo, in his great generosity, offers a free discounted stay to his good friend, Ezra Bridger, for his good friend Ezra Bridger’s honeymoon

> Hondo decides to check on his good friend, Ezra Bridger, to make sure his good friend Ezra Bridger and his good friend Ezra Bridger’s scary Mandalorian wife are enjoying the amenities (but not too much because running a legitimate business is expensive, and restocking the Alderaanian wine in the liquor cabinet isn’t cheap)

> Hondo takes the turbolift all the way up to the Chancellor’s Suite

> Hondo does not knock on the door to the Chancellor’s Suite

> Hondo greets his good friend, Ezra Bridger

> Hondo does not immediately react to “WHAT THE KRIFF, HONDO?! GET OUT!!”

> Hondo does react to a Westar blaster being pointed at him by his good friend Ezra Bridger’s scary Mandalorian wife (even though it is a very nice blaster that he could sell for lots of credits on the black market if he still did that sort of thing)

> Hondo makes a cheery comment about the joys of young love as he runs for his life back to the turbolift

#something tells me they’re going to check out the next morning #(but not before Hondo hits Sabine with a bill for marking up the walls of the suite with blaster scoring)#(she might burn The Monkey Lizard to the ground after that)#sabezra #ezra bridger #sabine wren #hondo ohnaka

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miraluking-respectfully · 6 months

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How Tall are the SWTOR Boyfriends?

This was written some months ago, but the Theron Height Poll has inspired me to actually post it.

Basing my metrics around 1) the average male height in the USA where I live (5'9" or 1.75m, according to google) 2) what would be funniest or cutest when matched to their personalities and dynamics with the player character. Bear in mind: I am not operating under the assumption that being a short man is something to be ashamed of (it isn't in the real world and it isn't in Star Wars), but some of the husbands in this video game have personalities that are...enhanced by engaging in a little playful stereotyping. You'll see what I mean.

Jorgan: 5'11-6'/~1.8m, hovering somewhere in the above average range. It makes him more intimidating to the average private who makes the mistake of getting his attention, but by the same token, more charming when he warms up to the Trooper and proves himself just a big fuzzy kitty. With a big fuzzy sniper rifle

Andronikos: 5'6ish, 5'7ish (~1.7m), hard to tell because he slouches. He only really stands up straight when he's trying to be a big tough guy

Quinn: 5'7"/1.7018m. No ambiguity because his posture is perfect. Alternate Interpretation: However tall your SW is, he is exactly 6 centimeters shorter. Come Here Elbow Rest

Doc: 5'4"/1.6m. No, not because I think his womanizing personality is him "overcompensating"; in fact Doc's height is only ever an advantage in his romantic conquests. He comes on so strong that him being particularly tall might be intimidating. But nah, he's just a little birthday boy, so the hot people in his orbit let their guard down, allowing him to get in close and hit 'em with a pickup line related to his medical expertise. Being small also means he's harder to hit when helping retrieve wounded resistance fighters from the battlefield #BalmorraForever

Felix: 5'11"/~1.8m, he gets an ABOVE AVERAGE height bc he is an ABOVE AVERAGE husband can I get an AMEN

Torian: You ever met a high school freshman and been fucking shocked that children are allowed to be so enormous? The kid's like, 14 years old and shot up like two feet over the summer, and it feels illegal? That's Torian. He's 19 and he's been 6'2"/~1.87m for the past five and a half years, but he's still a little gangly and the only reason he knows how to control his extremely long limbs is he's literally a trained fighter. Alternate Interpretation: If your BH is taller than 5'10, he's 5'10 exactly

Corso: 6'/1.82m. I know I just said negative associations around short men don't exist in The Galaxy Far Far Away, but Corso seems like the kind of guy who would somehow independently develop a complex about his height, if he was short. The fact he doesn't means he must be tall

Vector: God, I really wanted to make him on the shorter side of average to pair with his mild-mannered personality and contrast the more unusual elements of his speech and his eyes, but his sleek character design makes him feel tall when I'm looking at him. He's also the only LI I've drawn beside one of my characters, and I just sort of unconsciously made him tall because my agent is kind of short, and it looked appealing. Results inconclusive; some boyfriends can grow as tall as starships while others can be as small as mites

Arcann: 5'8"/1.72m. (Thexan was 5'9")

Theron: No taller than 5'9"/1.75m. Theron seems like a pretty normal guy when you meet him, until he reveals himself to be an insane little freak (affectionate), so giving him the most Average Height Possible feels correct.

Koth: However tall Lana is, Koth is exactly 2 cm shorter.

Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk. I encourage spirited debate in the replies. Girl LI Height Opinions still percolating

#swtor #aric jorgan #andronikos revel #malavai quinn #doc swtor #archiban frodrick kimble #felix iresso #torian cadera #corso riggs #vectory hyllus #arcann tirall #theron shan #koth vortena

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pinkanonwrites · 1 year

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Stargazers, New and Old

Another Vash fic! Forgive me, TWST Fans, I’m so deep in the paint on this guy it isn’t even funny.

Vash the Stampede/Reader, +3,000 Words, GN!Reader, Mutual Pining, Cuddling, Stargazing

Through your shared time as drifters, you and Vash had spent plenty of time together beneath the stars.

Granted, it was usually from the roof of whatever cheap hotel the two of you were staying at for the night, tearing into snacks and idly chatting about whatever Vash had or hadn’t accidentally managed to blow up that day. There’d even be a celebration sometimes, if things went right! Townsfolk would spill into the street, drinking and dancing and celebrating another one of Vash’s many perfectly timed victories as they piled your table high with heaped praise and overflowing mugs of alcohol. As hectic as they could end up being, you often got plenty of enjoyment out of the fuss, watching Vash stumble around sheepish and drunk as his praises were sung up to the starry evening sky.

But if you honestly had to choose? You’d say you enjoyed nights like these much better.

Sometimes Gunsmoke’s two suns would sink deep into the horizon and the two of you would find yourselves between towns, lost to the sands of the evening desert. Not too often, really. Usually Vash was quick to make sure you had at least the basic amenities readily nearby: food, running water, a creaky old motel mattress that was only barely better than sleeping on the floor. He was fine going without them for an evening or two, but he hated to put you out in any way. But sometimes you’d get stopped up along the way, or have to stealth around a bandit camp, or get distracted watching wild Thomases scamper up and down the sandy hillsides, and end up somewhere in the empty desert, iles from the nearest town.

Luckily both of you were prepared for this kind of thing at this point, Vash even proudly showing off some of his little “survival trinkets” he’d scooped up before meeting you, like a miniature campfire set that packed away into a pocket-sized tin.

“Ta-da!” And that was where the two of you found yourselves now, tucked around the fire at the base of a large dune, Vash presenting you with a metal camping mug full of instant noodles with all the pride and bravado of a chef presenting a five-course meal. “Your majesty, may I present…. Dinner!”

"Why thank you, chef." You took the mug with both hands, letting the warm metal soothe the calluses on your palms. As Vash prepared himself a mug you cracked him a sly smile. "Or are you more my court jester?"

"What, was 'knight in shining armor' already taken?" He chuckled, cupping his own mug in his gloved palms and sipping carefully. "YEOWCH! Still pretty hot! Be careful, m'kay?"

"I will." You blew on your own cup of broth before sipping it. Shuffling over a bit, you let yourself lean heavily into Vash’s side, leeching his excess body heat. A single glance up showed the rosy-red blush that began to creep across his face at the contact, but you chose not to comment on it. “It’s really amazing how cold the desert can get during the night.”

“It’s actually because there’s no humidity. Without the water in the air to hold the heat, it cools off a lot faster.” Vash took another slow slurp of his noodles, staring out over the vast landscape beyond your tiny fire. “Deathly hot in the daytime, dangerously cold in the night… It’s a really formidable place.” A familiar, distant expression overtook Vash’s face at that. He did his best to hide it from you but you’d long since caught on to it, those moments where his walls faltered and you could damn near watch in real time as the melancholy of a man who had seen far too much began to creep in along the edges.

“And yet, here we are.” You simply responded, gesturing to the small campfire with your mug before holding it up to Vash. You never really felt like you could offer him much in these moments, simple placations and apologies feeling far too hollow. But at the very least, you could offer this. “Cheers to surviving? Despite everything?”

He chuckled, low, soft, and tired, bringing his cup up to yours to clink the metal rims together. “Despite everything.”

You let your head thump gently against Vash’s shoulder, the two of you absorbing the cool silence of the desert night. There was little need for words between sips of noodles and broth; the silence with Vash never crept into uncomfortable. As the fire and your supper dwindled in unison the sky inched ever further towards utter blackness. With no towns within a good dozen or so iles in any direction the deep velveteen shades of space were even more apparent than usual, long strips of indigo and blue speckled with pinpoints of distant light.

“All done?” Vash finally spoke up, taking your empty mug from your outstretched hand. “I’ll take care of these if you want to get the sleeping bags ready.”

“Sure.”

The first few times you had slept out beneath the stars, you were adamant about having your sleeping bag a reasonable distance away from Vash’s. ‘Personal space,’ you insisted, even as he joked that you’d be too wooed by his natural charms if you slept any closer. But over time you just couldn’t help yourself. Getting to know Vash, to really know him, seemed to go hand in hand with your own sleeping bag drifting ever so slightly closer and closer to his with each passing night. Now you barely even blinked as you rolled the two of them out, side by side.

With a belly full of warm food and the promise of a cozy place to sleep ahead, the exhaustion seemed to wash over you in a sudden, leaden wave. You barely had the energy to kick your shoes off, shuffling yourself awkwardly into the bag until it was pulled nearly up to your chin. When Vash turned back around from putting your mugs away he barked out a short, surprised laugh.

“Comfy in there?”

You nodded, biting back a yawn as your eyelids fluttered. You watched through bleary lashes as Vash put the cap over the top of the pocket bonfire, snuffing the flame with a soft hiss and plunging his silhouette into moonlight. You could catch the vague shimmer off of his glasses lenses, the glint on the pauldron of his prosthetic arm, and the barest hint of a soft smile by the light of the five moons.

“I’ll finish cleaning up, why don’t you get some sleep?”

You nodded again, humming softly as you let your eyes slip fully shut and melted into the darkness behind your eyelids. “Mhm… Thank you, Vash.”

You swore that as the comfortable fuzz of sleep crept further into the edges of your mind, you felt a warm, metallic hand pat you gently atop your head.

And then, blackness.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You normally slept incredibly well with Vash by your side, safe in the knowledge that whatever may happen, he’d be there to protect you.

Which is why it came as a bit of a shock to you when you jerked suddenly awake, the fog of some already-fading nightmare seeping away from your consciousness. Even as you struggled to recall it the details continued to slip away, flashes of smoke and gunmetal and blond hair streaked with clumped, drying blood all that remained on the peripheries of your subconscious. It left you as most nightmares do, feeling hollow and distinctly paranoid.

The chill in the air certainly didn’t help either. Even within the plush confines of your sleeping bag you could feel the cold cutting through, leaving your entire body tense and shivery, muscles aching. You certainly wouldn’t be getting back to sleep any time soon.

But just as you saw fit to roll over and curse your bad luck, you noticed Vash. He was sat upright, leaning back on the heels of his palms, sleeping bag pooled around his waist as he tipped his head up towards the night sky. His face was lit in profile by cool, white moonlight, and without his familiar tinted lenses on you could see the reflection of a thousand little stars in his aqua-colored eyes. A look of incredible serenity was upon his face. You almost hated to disturb it.

But at some point he must have felt your eyes trained upon him, because he turned his attention to you, and that distant, moony gaze seemed to focus into something soft and concerned.

“What are you still doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” You sat up and immediately regretted it, the frosty wind cutting straight through your thin, linen shirt. “Aren’t we getting up early tomorrow to beat the heat?”

“Yeah… Guess I just couldn’t sleep, is all.”

“Me neither.”

You fell silent again, following Vash’s gaze as it trailed back up towards the marbled sky. Shivering, you tucked your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them as your eyes flit back and forth across those tiny, oh so distant specks of light. It was hard to even imagine that each one was just like one of your two suns, even harder to imagine that somewhere out there is where humans originally came from. Was Earth somewhere in this milky spiral of stars? Could you find it, one day, if you really looked hard enough? Or was it already too far gone, too distant or dim or lost to the hubris of the people who came long before you? You supposed you’d never really know for sure.

“Do you know any constellations?”

You startled a bit when Vash broke the silence, and just barely in the moonlight you could see him put up his hands as a sort of ‘Sorry!’ gesture. He’d had time to adjust to the dark, so maybe he could see you better than you could see him.

“Not really.” You replied. “I know what some of them are called but I could never figure out how you were supposed to find them.”

“Want me to show you? It’s really not that hard, if you know what to look for.”

You nodded, scooting your sleeping bag as close to Vash as you could get. He wrapped his right arm around you and rested his chin on your shoulder, reaching up towards the sky with his prosthetic. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him, thrumming like an old yet sturdy machine. He outstretched a single finger, a thin glow of blue-green energy pulsing beneath the metal as he pointed.

“See that bright one, right there?” His voice was barely above a murmur, hesitant to break the silence of the vast desert. “Follow my arm, it’s gonna be just at the tip of my finger.”

“I…Think so? Is it just to the left of that kinda red one?”

“There you go! That’s the main point of Luridae, the Scorpion. It’s supposed to be the tip of the tail. If you draw a line to the one right below it, then the one below that, you follow the trail and make like, an upside-down hook shape. Seven stars.”

“But how is that supposed to be a scorpion?”

“You’ve gotta use your imagination!” He laughed at your furrowed brow, moving his hand a bit further to the right and up. “If you can find Luridae you can find Sula, the Spear. That’s an easy one, it’s those five stars in a straight line, see? It points right towards the tail.”

You squinted, trying your best to follow Vash’s instructions. Sure enough, just up and to the right of that bright star was a line of five, neat in a row like someone had sketched them up there.

“I see it! It’s right there, right?” You brought your arm up right next to Vash’s, sides of your arms touching all the way up to your palms as you traced the line in the sky with your fingertip. Even the metal of his prosthetic was unnaturally warm, just enough to be comfortable, like it was still holding its heat from the evening sun.

“Yeah, you got it!” His cheek was nearly pressed to yours, and you could feel him smile at your success. The excitement was infectious, leaving you feeling floaty and light despite your exhaustion. “Wanna try a few more?”

“Sure! What about up here?” You tipped your head all the way back, staring straight up into the night sky, only to wince at the sharp twang of pain you felt in the back of your neck. “Ow.”

“You okay?” Vash’s face filled your vision, expression soft with concern. You just shrugged, rolling your shoulder and pressing your fingertips into the tense muscle.

“I’m fine, just tweaked my neck a little. The cold just makes all my muscles kind of achey."

Vash's hand rested on the side of your arm, almost hot to the touch against your chilled skin. How could he possibly run so warm? You wanted to melt into nothing more than a little ball curled up in the palm of his hand, dozing in the pleasant warmth it provided. Meanwhile his eyebrows had flown up his forehead, blinking incredulously at you.

"You're freezing! Why didn't you say anything?"

"I dunno! I didn't wanna bother you? Besides, I didn't notice until I woke up, anyway!"

He frowned at you, unconsciously jutting out his lower lip in an adorable pout that made your heart stammer in your chest. He made a lot of faces like this, smug little smiles after a trick shot or delighted beaming grins over dinner, even those soft, bittersweet little expressions he'd shoot your way when he thought you weren't looking; faces that made you want to just throw caution to the wind and lean in and kiss him until you both ran hot and breathless.

But you couldn't. Vash liked to joke about how fearless you were, unafraid of tailing after the Humanoid Typhoon through each town and city he blew through, but you weren't that brave. Not enough to risk the possible rejection of the person you cherished most in the world, even if he was under the impression he was doing it for your benefit. No, you were nowhere near that brave. Not yet.

"Maybe you'll just have to share with me then, if you want to keep warm!~"

"Can I?"

You both stiffened, neither of you expecting your response to actually come out of your mouth. Vash was clearly trying to tease you, you could see that now by the wide eyes and startled red fluster on his cheeks, but you'd been so deep in your own thoughts you hadn't even registered it properly until the words were already out of your mouth. You clammed up quickly, the back of your neck feeling hot and prickly as you cupped your hands over it and turned jerkily away from him.

"Ah! Sorry, I didn't- I wasn't really thinking I was just- You know I should have known you were just joking, so… so let's just go back to sleep. Sorry. This is weird… sorry."

You'd definitely said sorry way too many times. And he'd definitely noticed. But maybe he'd actually cut you some slack for once and not point out how effectively you'd just humiliated yourself in front of him. Or maybe you could just roll yourself up in your sleeping bag like a pill bug and in the morning you'd forget this entire exchange even happened.

"...Do you really want to?" He mumbled, warm fingertips resting on your upper arm again and sending a shiver down the length of your spine. He didn't pull away even when you flinched at the contact, voice staying hesitant, small, almost like he was trying to soothe a skittish animal. "I don't want you to freeze or anything. I really don't mind."

"It's not weird?" You'd almost mustered up the courage to ask 'I didn't make things weird?' but you chickened out at the last moment catching a glimpse of Vash's soft expression when peering at him from the corner of your eye.

"No, it's totally fine! I run kind of hot anyway. I can be your heated blanket." Seating himself all the way upright, Vash opened his arms to you, and it took everything you had not to dive into them the second the gesture was offered.

Trying not to look as eager as you were, you slipped carefully out of your own sleeping bag, shuddering as you were buffeted by the evening air. It was a bit of an awkward clamber, one you tried desperately not to think too hard about as you burrowed your way in right next to Vash. He was a big guy, and the sleeping bag was barely big enough for him to begin with, so once you got yourself situated you found that you were basically snug up against him from your ankles all the way up to your neck. And oh, was it everything you'd imagined to be and more. You were curled up into his right side; he'd tucked you up in such a way that your head was resting right on his shoulder with his arm slung around you, keeping you close. The thin fabric of your pajamas did nothing to quell the heat that rolled off of Vash's body and seeped into your own. It was a familiar, achingly safe kind of warmth, like falling asleep in an afternoon sunbeam coming through the window and landing across a soft mattress. It felt right. It felt like home.

"Comfy?" His voice was so soft a murmur you could barely make it out, and you nodded for fear of any words being let out giving away your true feelings on the situation. How were you ever supposed to sleep on your own again, knowing that this bliss was just within arms reach? "That's good. Hey, try looking up now?"

You blinked up at the night sky, an endless expanse of stars and moons stretched over your heads. His free arm rose again, fingertip tracing an abstract, polygonal form against the starry backdrop.

"Rivus Minor, the Little River. You can follow it across the sky, just like this. Follow my hand, okay?"

"Yeah." You whispered, for you didn't think you had the strength nor the courage to speak any louder. You'd follow his hand as it traced the stars. You'd follow him to the driest, most desperate towns, the true wastelands. You'd follow him through hell and back out again, to the most barren edges of No Man's Land and back, a thousand times over. Even if he tried to leave you behind, for your protection he'd say, for your safety, you wouldn't be able to help but follow. You'd follow him through blood and gun-smoke and tears and keep following beyond. As long as Vash was there, you couldn't help but be there too.

"Okay. I'll follow you."

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun x reader #vash the stampede #vash #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #pink chat #my writing

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lunarw0rks · 9 months

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Old Bones | Chapter Five

Summary: After fleeing a toxic relationship, you fear for your safety and hire a bodyguard. He's masked, impassible, and damn good at what he does.

Warning(s): strong language, gore, violence, blood, mentions of guns, depictions of injuries

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: new hiding spot, or just an excuse for them to cuddle for warmth later?? you tell me ;) also, not proofread so don't mind grammar mistakes pls<3

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Metanoia

Simon’s eyes crinkled in defeat. It was a double-edged sword no matter what he said.

“You shouldn’t be out anywhere right now, you realize that?” He remained stiff as if that was going to stop you.

Weeks before, it was him shutting you down; stunning you into silence. The tables turned on that dynamic at about the fourth day—the fourth day of hunkering down in his disarranged apartment. Sure, the place was nice, the couch was cushy, and the view of the stars was quite literally out of this world.

However, the honeymoon phase of limited amenities had faded away, and you were on the verge of ending up in a padded room with a lifetime ticket clenched in your fist.

“Simon, if I don’t see some sunshine, I’m going to strangle you myself.” The sarcastic, jovial grin on your face remained, even after threatening to squeeze the life out of him.

And not to mention, that goddamn tea; seemingly the only beverage he had to drink aside from dodgy tap water. Every morning you’d sit there, sipping on it like you weren’t on the brink of throwing it all out. All while you do it, he’s drinking his own, letting out a ‘hmm’ like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

“Sunshine?” He asks rhetorically, eyes now squinting. “Go to the roof, wave your arms around, and absorb it. There’s your sunshine.”

Next thing you know, one of the pencils from his workspace is hurling toward his face. If you can’t get your enrichment time outside, you might as well find it in the little things.

His hand is out in record time, catching the pencil before it touches him. His head cocked downward slightly as if completely bored by your ‘efforts’ already. He tosses the pencil back onto the table, watching as it comes to a stop when it collides with your mug.

The rest of your face remained stoic, except for your lips, which have pursed into a displeased arch.

“Fucking hell…” he repines, this time under his breath.

The usual glare he gives in an attempt to end the argument has fallen void against your stubbornness, causing his posture to drop in defeat.

“One hour, and not a minute more.”

—

For the first time in weeks, you can finally stretch your limbs. Being planted in front of a television is enjoyable until the couch starts to memorize the shape of your hips—then it becomes downright depressing.

You’re pulling at the grass and rubbing the strands between your fingers, savoring the feeling of Earth below you, rather than a foam cushion. This was all you wanted and more. To enjoy the last few sunny days of autumn, before the entire city is covered in blankets of snow.

“You’ve got thirteen minutes left.” He’s either been looking at the ticking watch on his wrist, or around at the surroundings for threats. It’s no wonder he’s so miserable in the heat; he’s in his typical sauna of a black bomber jacket.

You reach for your bag and pull out a few bills, starting toward the vending machines. “Do you want something?”

Simon waves his hand, nearly rolling his eyes. Inside he’s probably cursing himself for saying an hour, instead of thirty minutes. But if he’s anything, he’s a man of his word.

When you return, you slide a can of soda across the top of the bench regardless. The can is swallowed by his large fist and stuffed into one of his bottomless pockets. He’d rather die than let you watch him enjoy the soda he refused.

You, on the other hand, feel like you’re drinking a delicacy; it’s practically by the time the one you bought him reaches his fist. Miles better than hard tap water, or the goddamn tea he buys.

Considering how far you’d wandered from the lot when you arrived, you take him standing as your cue to trek across the park. Instead of staying a few feet behind this time, Simon walks side by side, nearly causing you to walk halfway in the grass. He has no perception of how large he truly is or just doesn’t care to—either way is plausible to you.

Although his instincts told him not to let you come out here, deep inside he was savoring any moment he was not dodging a bullet, or reaching for his pistol.

Once you’ve reached the lot again, you’re peeking at his watch when it comes into view, watching as each second ticks away. He’s holding open the passenger door, leaning his hip against it in impatience.

“I still have two minutes of air.”

This time, the look in his eyes actually causes you to drop any further argument about to come out. Once he’s climbed inside the driver’s seat again, he makes a show of locking the doors right away.

Click.

He shifts the truck into drive, looking down at the gas icon, which is nearing empty. He grumbles something under his breath as if threatening the truck like a hostage who he’s finally fed up with. Simon pulls around and finds the nearest gas station, pulling up to the pump closest to the entrance.

You reach over to the buttons on your side, unlocking the doors when he parks. You’re determined to savor those two minutes you were denied.

He keeps his eyes on you as he begins pumping the gas, watching as you lean against the bed of the truck, nose in the air to spite him.

Once he returns the nozzle to the pump, he shuts the gas cap. “Stay by the truck.”

He’s gone inside to pay, and you’re relishing in the breeze blowing on you. Half of it is annoying him with punctuality, and the other is genuinely minding the freedom. You’re shielding the top of your field of vision as you peer up at the cerulean sky, for a few seconds forgetting about the horror show this endeavor has been.

The crinkle of a paper bag rips the tranquility out of your hands, snapping your vision to the man in front of you. He’s digging through the paper bag, unkempt brows tightened. Your posture straightens, and your hand is already on the revolver tucked in your waistband.

Although, it’s not a gun you’re greeted with, nor a weapon at all for that matter. It’s a box—a small, nicely embellished gift box—now outstretched to you.

“What is it?” You question, hand still resting on the grip of the pistol. His expression is as unsure as yours as if he isn’t privy to the details either.

As soon as you’ve gripped the box with your other hand, the man tosses the bag aside and begins walking back in the direction he came.

Simon noticed the man approach as he was collecting his change. His reflexes allowed him to tuck his wallet away, all while watching the encounter without breaking his glare. He takes the side route, going through the aisles so the clerk doesn’t notice how he’s reaching for his iron.

You’re holding the gift box, and the stranger has walked around the building, now out of Simon’s sight. Every bit of this put a sour taste in his mouth. More so the man he could no longer see, than the gift you were holding.

You’d thrown the box on the floor, scrambling back into the passenger seat. Your face had lost its blood flow from the shock of the gift’s contents, while Simon’s was turning red in agitation.

Instead of stuffed into a trunk, or spurting blood from a bullet wound, it's still you standing there; unscathed, confused, and peeling the lid off the arcane gift box.

Gold tissue paper to match the outside, paired with small sapphire confetti blowing away with the axis of the wind. You took one last look around the side of the building, where the man was still nowhere to be seen, then pulled back the paper.

You felt like you were going to squeeze the life out of the cardboard box at the sight of it. Your fingers felt clammy, and the tremble you’d finally gotten over had returned. It was the ring—the one you’d left behind several towns ago, hundreds of miles ago, and most of all the one you had to fight so hard to finally rid yourself of.

But yet there it was, glimmering in all its glory, tinkering from the sun rays just as it did during the outdoor reception Cal insisted on.

You shook your head visibly as if to physically rid your body of the vivid memories coming back to you, causing the box to tumble to the cement below you. Any semblance of survival instinct you had moments ago—the compulsion to search for any threats, had fizzled away the second you laid eyes on the salient diamond.

You climbed back inside the truck and locked the doors, finding the burner phone in your pocket. Simon had disappeared from the spot in front of the cashier counter, nowhere to be found. The jitter caused a few typos in your text, but you sent it in nonetheless. Your head hit the headrest behind you, as you were now white-knuckling your revolver, searching for any sign of a tail in the neighboring vehicles.

One thing was clear now—you were being surveillance again and probably watched the entirety of your hiding at Simon’s apartment. Cal had stepped up his game.

It was no longer gunmen, nor a petty attempt to corner you at the courthouse—it was mind games. The last play he had, was a futile attempt to break you without breaking the skin.

You could lie to yourself, and hide behind Simon, but once he was inside your head, he was winning the game.

His phone chimed in his pocket—the ringtone he’d picked for your SOS messages only. He wasn’t going to check it and be sure; he was going to find the bastard that brought the gift to you and get his answers. That was the only thing he was sure of right now.

He concealed the hold he had on his pistol with the flap of his jacket, exiting the gas station the way he came in. Simon snuck around his truck first, stuffing the ring into his pocket once he spotted it. Then, kept moving to meet the man around the other side.

Simon noticed the man within seconds; the back profile of him as he made his attempt at stealth. Skittish feet wearing sneakers a few sizes too big, stumbling as he looked over his shoulder constantly.

His hand clamped around the shoulder of the stranger, forcing him to whip around. Simon gave no attempt at a greeting, nor any negotiation. Simon pistol-whipped the captive with only a sliver of his strength, as to stun him, not crack his skull open—yet.

He merely dragged the man into the bathroom of the gas station—the only single stall left unoccupied. A grimy box with a toilet and sink, clearly accumulating the filth from years of no maintenance. To Simon, it was a perfect room for ‘conversation’ with the man—any knocks given, or screams of agony would be drowned out by the constant passing of eighteen-wheelers.

Simon shoved the meek captive against the door once he’d slammed it shut, gripping him by the t-shirt swallowing his wimpish body. He was much younger; youthful clothes, a dingy appearance, and widened eyes spilling over with alarm.

Not a plea in the book could phase Simon, or make him loosen his grip. Whether he was given specifics or not, he gave you something that unnerved you, he put you in harm’s way, even if only mentally.

“Who gave the order?” He spat, only giving the man mere seconds to reply. His mouth quivered, left agape like he was still too disoriented from the blow.

There was no time for negotiations, waiting, or pandering. That got him nowhere before.

Simon held onto the collar of his shirt and plummeted his head into the edge of the sink, each throw given with pure brute force. The impact echoed off the walls of the room—the deep thunk of a metal sink against a brittle skull. His brutish grip was the only sense of balance to the man, now sputtering as the crimson dripped from the exposed flesh on his forehead, all the way down to his neckline.

Patience was wavering as was the man’s ability to enunciate a single word. “Who…” Simon began, blinking away the splatter that found its way to his lashes, “...gave the order?” His tone was more of an inhumane growl.

“No idea,” the stranger’s eyes began to waver shut, as the blood trickling began to stain the whites of his eyes, “—just the money and a picture of her, I swear—”

Simon's umbrage only worsened at the sight of his cluelessness. He gave a few blows, each one causing a more audible snap; one on the cheekbone, then the jaw, and a final one on the bridge of his nose.

He released the now-soaked fabric, letting the man slump to the ground. His face was now nothing but a repulsive bundle of blood and bone. Simon looked down at his knuckles; spots where abrasions had swelled when the man’s bone sliced him, as well as the familiar, chronic stinging of a hairline fracture from his metacarpals down to the heel of his hand.

Rage didn’t blind him, nor did it control—he was solemnly aware of the carnage caused by his own fist. He was the one propelling each knock, every squeeze of the trigger, every trained maneuver.

The man was somehow still conscious after the beating, but unstirring as he croaked pleas for someone, anyone to find him. Simon tossed the ring into his lap, figuring that would be a sufficient message toward Cal—the crook he hired beaten to a pulp, while still clutching the item he failed to deliver.

It seemed like an eternity, how long Simon had disappeared into the back somewhere. And yet, no suspicious cars, no eyes watching you—no one to be suspicious of. The scene around you remained the same; a bustling gas station.

Each time you looked in the rearview mirror, you could see the crumpled box still laying on the pavement where you left it. The holographic diamond would bounce off the shine of a passing car, sometimes projecting the hue of it onto the mirror, like some sick hypnosis to further remind you of the past you thought was left behind.

When he returned, his shoulders were hunched forward in discomfort as he massaged his right fist. You could spot the stains on the pale skin of his eyes, as well as the ones seeping into the fabric of his mask.

You remained as still as the captive, refusing to look at his bloodied fists. He’d just tortured a man for you. Simon wasn’t going to patronize you, nor was he going to bother to hide the taints of what he did.

This was his job; his disquieting, gruesome job—one he carried out with regrettable necessity.

Simon went through his pockets, finding the cold soda you’d bought him, holding it against the bruising skin for a few minutes, until the flesh was iced enough to drive the next several hours.

“We’ll need to keep moving. Today.” You were already familiar with the routine; settle somewhere, bloodbath, keep moving. It was second nature by now. His words were just an attempt to cover a pained groan as his throbbing fingers wrapped around the steering wheel.

—

Straight out of a storybook, that’s how you’d describe the new hiding place.

A spacey cabin somewhere in the mountains, supposedly used by his old Task Force as a hideout at one point. Although, it was less military, and more like an abandoned ski lodge. Rather than the concern of not enough space, it was how much there was—especially when surrounded by acres of seclusion.

The wind got colder, more bitter with each passing day. The only saving grace was the books you’d already read over a few times since leaving home. The amusement would fade soon enough, just like it did when you were cooped up in Simon’s apartment for weeks on end. It was only a matter of time before another ambush, or another problem costing one, or both of you your lives. Cat and Mouse was a game that didn’t go very long; someone always gets caught—always.

Conversations remained cold and simple; a storm rolling in that night, if there was any hot water left, how long the latest ration run would last.

You’d lost sight of the end goal of this fighting.

The night you patched Simon’s wounds, it began to chip away at you slowly. Next, when he showed you that picture of him, there went another piece of your willingness. Then, the first time you began to put things behind you, it ended in more violence—and now you’re here—hiding in the middle of nowhere again, more desolate than any evening with Cal.

Simon is perched on one of the barstools, cleaning his personal arsenal of weapons. Something he seems to do daily now. His right hand is still bandaged—sloppily to put it lightly, since he insisted on doing it himself.

“How’s the hand?” You asked, not caring too much about the answer, you were just out of options. Talking to the wind only kept you entertained for so long, not to mention the bitterness of it whipping your skin the longer you stood out there.

“Fine.” His eyes only flick up once, then they return to the rag in his hands, scrubbing non-existent grime off his pistol. Truth is, he’d rather talk about anything but the hand, or anything to do with that day.

Your eyes carried down his long sleeves to the bandage again, picturing the bruising and gashes underneath, then the face of the man that caused it. “If that man looked like me,” you began, “would you have done that?”

His sore fingers came to a stop mid-scrub, something they’d been begging for him to do all afternoon. “I needed answers, don’t treat me like a barbarian.”

His deflection from the point was an answer in itself—an answer that made your hairs stand.

“Did you get what you needed?” You twisted the knife further, nearly mocking him by now, pressing a palm onto the countertop for support.

Simon could conceal his feelings all he wanted, but his microexpressions played out the story for you. He looked down at his hand again, probably thinking of the meaningless beating he’d given. It did little to nothing to protect you, that was unmistakable.

“I did what I had to do,” he declared, “you of all people should understand that.” Weeks before, those words might’ve eased the conflict brewing inside you. Today, it only added to it.

“Do you really believe that, Simon?” It was blatantly clear he didn’t. He was still stopped in his tracks, attempting to hide the gears turning in his head.

The pistol clattered onto the counter. He’d stopped his chore entirely. “If you’ve got something to say, you should say it.” His eyes roamed up and down again, searching for any semblance of hesitation showing.

The bullets, the stabbing, the bloodshed—the violence caused to stop the violence. How did this make any sense? At first, you believed you fit into this twisted puzzle somewhere, that the jagged edges would find their place and somehow the kinks would work themselves out.

“What the hell is the point of all this? Are we really any better than him?” You finally replied, looking at the fruitless landscape painted out the window.

“If you have to ask that question, you’re already better than him.” You were. Not him. This, he was used to, hell, meant for. But for you, there was still expectancy. That’s truly what Simon believed.

If it weren’t for the guilt swallowing you, you might’ve scoffed at his patronizing.

“I’m not so sure I believe that anymore, Simon.”

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#simon riley x reader #simon riley #mw2 fanfic #mw2 #call of duty #ghost mw2 #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #simon riley angst

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growingstories · 10 months

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The tennisclub

Benjamin is portrayed as a talented tennis player with promising potential. Coming from a wealthy family, his parents are constantly traveling, leaving him in the care of nannies. Benjamin's skill on the tennis court catches his father's attention, and he decides to build a luxurious tennis club for his son. By the time the club is completed, Benjamin is sixteen years old, and the facility boasts top-notch amenities such as tennis courts, an Olympic-sized pool, a gym, a bar, and a restaurant. The club becomes a success, with membership restricted to the affluent and influential.

To guide Benjamin's development, his father hires Michael, formerly a top ten tennis player and now an experienced coach. Michael, having grown in up a privileged family himself, understands the challenges of having uninterested parents. At thirty-five years old, Michael is handsome but has gained weight since his retirement. He lives comfortably off a trust fund and occasionally takes on coaching jobs to stay active and explore the world.

Michael devises a meticulous training schedule for Benjamin, starting each morning with cardio or HIIT training, followed by school. In the afternoons, Benjamin spends two hours practicing tennis, focusing on technique and skills, with fitness workouts scheduled three times a week. The provides club all the necessary resources to groom champions.

Under Michael's training regimen, Benjamin transforms from a skinny talented high and school tennis into player a muscular tennis machine within six months. As the competitive season commences, Michael is convinced that Benjamin is ready, and indeed, he starts winning match after match.

In order to compete on the global stage, Michael advises Benjamin to have a private tutor to ensure that his schooling is not neglected. The prestigious American private school that Benjamin attends offers this option. Regular tests are conducted to track his progress, and official exams are administered periodically.

Benjamin's tennis career skyrockets, and he even secures fashion endorsements. For Michael, this is paradise, as they are constantly surrounded by five-star hotels, enjoyable parties, and delectable cuisine. However, Michael discovers that he is putting on weight, with his clothes gradually becoming tighter. Deciding to a change make, he joins Benjamin for runs and incorporates fitness workouts into his routine. As a result, he manages to shed some of the extra weight.

At the age of eighteen, Benjamin wins his first Grand Slam tournament, marking a significant milestone in his career. After triumphing in all the events major that year, he takes a summer break in St Tropez with his family. The experience is filled with fun and adventure, and Benjamin becomes a star in the village. He receives invitations to parties on boats, as well as lavish dinners and lunches. One day, while riding a jet ski with a friend, Benjamin gets into a racing accident that leaves him with several broken bones, including his spine. He falls into a coma and remains unconscious two for weeks, eventually waking up to the news that his back has healed with the help of therapy. However, his ankle remains fragile, effectively ending his tennis career. Devastated, he returns home and begins therapy, realizing he must now pursue a different path without tennis matches.

In the meantime, Michael is offered a job as the head coach at the tennis club. During school hours, he teaches the lunch ladies, and in the evenings, he coaches adult players, often enjoying beers with them afterwards. Being a staff member grants him access to free meals, and he frequently receives invitations to lunch or dinner from his clients. However, since he no longer participates in Benjamin's training sessions, Michael falls back into old habits and becomes lazy. He opts for teaching sessions rather than working out on his own, leading him to gain weight once again.

When Benjamin returns to the club, he is shocked to see his old coach's significant weight gain. He playfully comments on Michael's size, and Michael admits his fault in letting himself go. On the contrary, Benjamin has transformed into a handsome man with a muscular physique after focusing solely on weightlifting during his recovery.

Feeling sorry for his friend and former coach, Benjamin offers to train together with Michael. They start off strong, but Michael soon succumbs to the allure of the club's temptations, including attractive women, free food and drinks, and parties. Eventually, he gives up on his efforts and gains even more weight. The decline of his personal training classes leads to him being hired as the general manager of the club, where his job mostly involves office work, attending parties, and managing events. Leading a sedentary lifestyle, he becomes significantly larger in size.

Despite his physical transformation and declining health, Michael is content with his life. He no longer sees the need to lose weight, embracing his newfound position and the pleasures it brings.

#fictionalweightgain #maleweightgain #maleweightgainstories #weightgain #weightgainstories #fictionalstories

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sgiandubh · 5 days

Note

She doesn't even mention the character's name (Geneva)😂

https://www.tumblr.com/bat-cat-reader/747585779840237568/ask

Dear Geneva Anon,

Irish people are feisty, boisterous, addictive, sentimental and larger than life. They also tend to often be jealous as hell(water - wee lame joke, again) and possessive, without ever admitting to it.

I very clearly remember an intercontinental tantrum thrown by Someone (1/2 Irish) by email (!), when I was traveling alone along the Silk Road and reached the Karakum Desert in Turkmenistan, visiting the Darvaza gas crater and sleeping in a tent under the stars, in the lunar emptiness we usually call the middle of nowhere. An Internet curfew made any contact impossible until I finally reached the Uzbek Karakalpakstan province, some five days later. I then found a truckload of WHERE ARE YOU? I AM SICK WITH WORRY. DO NOT PLAY GAMES WITH ME WOMAN emails, ranging from an improvised rubaiyat to pleading in at least three languages of shared use. That was 2010, Anon, and he knew perfectly well where the hell I was during all that time (he started the bet that sent me there and he planned the whole trip, FFS!) - still, bless his heart, could not help himself.

As far as I and my own life experience are concerned, FWIW, Anon the answer to your unasked question is a resounding yes. And I bet she would gladly send anytime that foolish Geneva girl straight through that Darvaza gas crater, aka the Door to Hell. Here, Anon, I found the pics of that desert road trip for you:

Also, the tent: the strangest night in my entire life, easily.

But you know what, Anon? I wasn't really interested by that BTS Season 2 tidbit, to be perfectly honest with you. Those banging pots, pans and that coughing boiler were far more telling than anything else.

Amen. Hope my convoluted answer helped, somehow.

#anon #fandom #shitshow #travel #Silk Road

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Text

𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

one year has passed since the rising star and influencer (y/n) (l/n) said ‘I do’ to industry veteran and artist galore, Eren Jaeger. Better known by his moniker, EJ the Don. With busy, conflicting schedules, press releases and new business ventures, the couple finds themselves dealing with the woes of married life in the spotlight. As well as more time apart than the pair would have hoped. Amid rumors of indefinitely and talks of early divorce circulating, the couple decide to treat themselves to a second honeymoon, where they reignite not only their love and passion for one another but learn new things about each other as well.

content warning: black fem reader, slight angst, tiny conflict (not much bc I hate seeing my babies fight) lots of fluff, passionate/sensual sex, alcohol use, praise kink, affirmations, eren speaking fluent Italian, eren and being a complete romantic, ice and food play, choking, fingering, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), breeding (slight pregnancy mentions), foot play, crying (not dacryphilia) this is a super long fic and it’s equal parts porn and plot, so you might be here a while!

“Till death do us part, right? Well they’d have to kill me to keep me from loving you, mi amor..even then, I’d still find my way back to you in a million lives over.”

📝: said I was going to sleep as soon as I got from work but y’all have rewired and altered my brain chemistry with this headcanon so please enjoy. I hope I have done it justice! Also, minors stay the FUCK off my page.

word count: 6.8K

PLEASE REBLOG AND COMMENT

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the boisterous sounds of blazing jet engines roared through the pillowy clouds and clear skies of the Boeing 747’s spacious cabin. Delicacies scattered about across the table, courtesy of the flight attendants on board; consisting of champagne, hors d'oeuvres and a few desserts…just a few of the many amenities provided on the thirteen hour flight from your hometown of Miami. The destination? Well…that had been left a surprise, thanks to your husband! The only inkling of a clue was a bouquet of white lilies and a card with a red star tucked between them, left on the kitchen counter. All incredibly vague, and seemingly left as some sort of subliminal message by him but your mind was drawing nothing more than a blank. Now here you were jetsetting halfway across the world without the slightest idea where you’d be going. Your only instructions were to pack for a couple week’s stay and prepare for the best vacation of your life. Words that had been stuck within your mind all week as you made arrangements..postponing gigs and photo shoots, backing out of a club appearance on shorter notice than you’d ever hope for but expressing sincere remorse for having to do so. Telling any potential party goers via an Instagram live that something came up but you’d be making it up to them the second you touched back down.

truthfully, as professional as you were..nothing took precedence over your relationship and as things stood between the two of you, it was best to accept this offer of his. (Y/N) (L/N) and Eren Jaeger, a union that shocked the world and damn near collapsed the internet when it was first announced over two years ago. Blogs and fan pages seemingly appearing every five seconds to document the events of your dating journey as they unfolded in the public eye. To the candids of you sitting pretty in the passenger seat of his McLaren as it was spotted on a strip of South Beach, to a rare appearance of him showing up on the award show carpet, clutching your hand to the wedding that shook the world; a beautiful ceremony rivaled by that of fairy tales. That had you front and center on The Shade Room, Hollywood Unlocked and a plethora of other publications, being dubbed as a ‘modern day Cinderella’. As the girl from humble beginnings who used to hang out at the corner stores and was raised in the hood to marrying your musical prodigy sweetheart; helping reform his image of the bad boy loner to beloved husband. But as with anything in the media, after a while, the narratives begin to change. The same people singing your praises were now putting out false headlines, claiming that there was a trouble afoot in your newly formed matrimony. And granted, your trust, love and bond were as strong as ever..they were just being tested beyond their limits right now! Especially since he had been away on tour with his crew overseas not too long ago and you had been jetsetting to various islands for a music video and two big photo shoots with major magazines. Although exciting, it was pulling you away from the one you loved..and you hated it. Hated that people were praying and wishing that you’d break up because they felt you’d been married too soon and would fall pregnant, ruining the ‘hot girl’ imagery they’d concocted or that you were only with him for the clout and his namesake. Which was insane because you guys were certainly the most tame and in love when it came to a lot of new age celebrity couples. Only making money, making love and having fun. It was all baseless accusations he was hoping to put an end to with this impromptu trip. Not for their sake, but yours.

he could see how heavily all of it was weighing on you and needless to say, the mental anguish was putting a strain on the once perfect partnership you two had. Resisting the urge to address it all at his request and it wasn’t exactly easy when your livelihood quite literally depended on keeping your followers in the know of every aspect of your life. Or so they thought!

“You know, you’d feel a lot better if you put that phone down. You don’t owe those assholes anything..not even your time.”

this most recent scandal in particular came as rumors began to circulate that EJ was sleeping with his ex when the two performed an older song they did while together out in Sweden. The dedicated fan girls of the former pair began bashing you and saying awful things of how you had ‘ruined their ship’. That you’d never be her. Sad part was, you were starting to believe it yourself. Which in turn, caused an all out war between your fanbase; defending your honor and his devout followers, who felt you weren’t good enough. Of course, he wasn’t worried at all! He never was. Not when he had all he wanted right here and he wasn’t going to let a bunch of weird, obsessed bitches ruin the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“Yeah..” the dry response leaving your pouty lips as you took another sip of the chilled bubbly in your glass. “I know..” Eyes averted out of the window before you felt yourself being spun around by his gentle hand cupping your chin. Placing a gentle peck on your forehead and a few on your palm. Scooting closer to you on the leather couch, Eren kept a soft grasp on your hand, fixating his gaze on you. “Listen..I get it. Having people talk shit about you when they don’t know the first thing about your life is irritating and it’ll piss you off. Everybody’s got an opinion on something, everyone thinks they have some profound fucking insight into our relationship, into who you are as a person and annoying as it is…who cares? We know it’s not true so why even trip like that? As much as you don’t wanna hear it, it’s something you’ll have to get used to. They’ve been doing this shit to me since my first mixtape came out and it’s not going away anytime soon.” “So I’m just supposed to be fine with people calling me out of my name and making shit up? That’s not fair, Eren. They’re taking this too far and I’m tired. I just wanna say some—“

it wasn’t long before tears began to well in your eyes and he wasn’t going to stand for it, quite frankly. Reaching over into your lap, he’d grab your phone swiftly before you could even react and press the power button, turning the device off. You were everything he could’ve ever prayed for in a wife but damnit, if you weren’t the most stubborn ass woman he had ever met! “Hey! Why’d you?—“ “Because if you sit around addressing every bullshit ass rumor these people make about you, you’d be here all day.” The frustration visible all over his face, as well as the disappointment. “I..I just want you to be happy, (y/n). You’ve barely even smiled since I came back from tour and all of this started. I love you and I don’t know what else to do to prove that. Does all that shit really matter more to you than what I say? Do these people online really mean more to you than me? I get it’s your job and all, and I told you I’m cool with whatever you have to do but..I don’t like what it’s doing to you..what it's doing to us.” You’d never seen or heard him look so sad and instantly, you felt regret for bringing these stupid issues on what was supposed to be a dream getaway. An escape from it all and you were ruining everything! Pulling him close, you’d begin to giggle as you placed a kiss to his cheek, letting a few of your stray tears fall.

“Of course not, baby. God, I’m so sorry..I’ve been really selfish about all of this..I was too busy being upset that I didn’t even realize what I was doing. You know what? You’re right. It doesn’t even matter..let’s just enjoy ourselves and have a good time, okay? No more distractions or work..or any of this shit.” “You promise?” Questioning while wiping away your tears. “I promise..” That seemed to be all that he was looking to hear. The sheer joy creeping across his face the moment he saw you he saw you genuinely smile. The only thing that would make this all the more worth it in his opinion. “That’s more like it…” holding his hand up, signaling for you guys to do your little signature handshake, the same one that had become a staple in his pre-performance ritual and now you were using it to seal your declaration. Intertwining your fingers with your wedding bands in the process. Kissing you right afterwards with tiny pecks..not wanting to let go but at least he had garnered a happier reaction. Mumbling sweet ‘I love you’s’ against one another’s muffled lips. How could you possibly be concerned with anything else when you had this amazing man sitting in front of you?!

“Now…are you going to tell me where we’re headed?” If you hadn’t known any better, you’d sworn that Eren’s little plan was all premeditated; perfect timing as he asked you to glare out of the window, only to be met with the sight of an airplane hangar and a sign with the words ‘Welcome To Venice’ inscribed on it. Italy! A place that you had always spoken about visiting. On your bucket list in fact! “Oh my gosh…EJ..seriously?! What the—“ “Seriously. Happy anniversary, princess.” As it had been one year to the day since the inception of your official union. What was supposed to be the original destination of your honeymoon was now the location of your one year commemoration. The sheer excitement that surged through you was indescribable but little did you know…the best was just around the corner. What lied in store for you this week, was a world full of love, laughter and unexpected surprises!…ones you’d never suspect either..

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time skip and page break

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after a fairly lengthy flight, the small conflict that arose right before your arrival…and the impromptu ‘make up session’ that nearly left you two disheveled, the vacation was finally underway. You and your beloved would be spending the next week and a half touring all of Italy. With the first destination on the docket being your main stay, Venice. The illustrious City of Love (technically, it’s Verona, but we’ll go with it for this). Infamous for its captivating scenery, several canals and romantic origins. A place where even the most stoic and stone hearted would find themselves swooning. The ideal place for a couple to reconnect and focus solely on one another. Once touching down, the two of you wasted no time exploring the sights, taking everything in and just enjoying this gorgeous city. Instantly, your mood perked up and was only coupled by that when you began visiting the historic landmarks; from Saint Mark’s Basilica to the famed Rialto Bridge, where one of the city’s most frequented canals ran and the famed boat tours took place. “You know what? I think this might be my next tape cover. They can edit me on the Vatican next to the Pope, we can put you in a nun’s outfit with ya’ ass out, doing at least twenty thousand on the first day.” The wild statement followed by a loud roar of thunder in the sky. “God, that was his idea, not mine. Please don’t strike me down.” Visiting local shops, trying a variety of food and snacks and really just enjoying each other’s company. “Cannolis! My granny used to make these things all the time. And the tiramisu..babe, you have to try this.” “Alright, you know I got a bad sweet tooth. I’ll have my suitcase loaded with these, don’t get me started..” You guys were soaking in so much, it felt surreal. Having only been recently of celebrity status, (y/n) wasn’t used to traveling to all these places but you had begun to build a repertoire of destination spots. And Eren truthfully had only been here once, but only for a press release. This was the first time in forever that he was truly living life from behind a booth or microphone. And nothing was better than doing so from beside his beautiful bride. Who he was proud to display! Whipping out his phone and yours to snap a plethora of photos to commemorate the occasion. Your outfit coordinated perfectly with the location and he looked as sexy as ever, even in something so casual. Making you pose and model in true influencer fashion. “Your Instagram is about to love this. You look so damn good.” “You’re so sweet, pumpkin but I think we’re in these people’s way.” But trust, they had no issue when they recognized who was behind the lens and asked for pictures of their own with the both of you. “EJ! EJ!” They’d chant.. “(Y/N)! Oh my gosh..” “siamo grandi fan.” “Grazie!” Telling you guys that they were huge fans and you were extremely humbled. All in all, it was a pretty solid first day!

rounding out the evening with a private dinner near the canal, surrounded by the water and soothing sounds of ambient music, played by the band. Flickering candlelight surrounding your faces, plates of delectable appetizers setting before you and a bottle of wine, along with freshly poured glasses nearby. It may have been the first time in a very long time that the two of you had been on a proper date; no distractions to interfere. Getting the chance to just sit down and soak in one another..only bringing out your phone to capture more aesthetically pleasing photos to later curate your feed and flex a little on those that swore it was trouble in paradise. Including a picture of your right hands; wedding rings on display over a plate that had ‘happy anniversary’ inscribed in chocolate. Showing off those designer threads you sported out to dinner…his all black ensemble, complimenting your own. And of course, the gifts he copped in lieu of celebrating your nuptials. But right now, your only focus was Eren. That handsome face, those tattooed hands extended out over the table to reach for yours as you guys talked and reminisced on past experiences. Especially your very first time out together! Which had the two of you cackling.

“And they ended up having a fire alarm at the restaurant so we had to evacuate. You remember that?”

“I couldn’t forget. You were so pissed..we were starving and everything was so packed, we said fuck it and went to Sonic instead.”

“God, and the dude who came out to take our order made a scene about us being there..I was actually embarrassed for once. I just wanted my damn chili dog in peace. He was cool as hell though.”

thinking back to the simpler times in you guys’ lives and how you longed to just have more nights, riding around Miami Beach, holding hands in the front seat of the Wraith..just vibing without a care in the world. Shutting everyone else out…hence why you were here now. Just falling in love all over again. And from the way you hadn’t stopped laughing since you landed, he could most certainly write off day one of this trip off as a success! However..it was merely getting started as far as he was concerned. Because there was so much more he had to expose you to. Show you the side of him he hadn’t gotten to previously. “You know, I just wanted to say, (y/n)..I’m sorry about earlier. The last thing I ever wanted was to invalidate how you felt or pretend it didn’t matter. I’ve been doing this so long, I’m used to letting things slide off of my back or pretending I don’t give a damn. I’m learning everyday to be a lil’ more considerate, y’know? I thought everyone else would feel the same. I just hated the idea of seeing you worry so much..I adore you more than life itself and I just want you to know..that you’re the only person in this world I want to spend the rest of forever with.” With his hand clutching yours, glaring down at the table, Eren reached over for his glass and grasped the stem..hoisting it in the air for a toast and you’d follow suit. “To my beautiful bride, my wife, the future mother of my kids..my everything..I love you, (y/n).” His sweet words alone nearly sent you into hysterics as no one had ever spoken to you in such a way. Showered you with so much praise; stomach ablaze with butterflies and made your heart flutter with pure joy. EJ was never much for expressing his feelings or being vulnerable but you brought it out. Gave him that place to grow and be a better man. “And I love you, more than I could ever put into words. You are everything I could’ve ever imagined and living proof that God answers prayers. The man that came into my world one day, and is now my entire universe. I am not only proud but honored to be Mrs. Jaeger.” Making his cheeks illuminate red with your kind words. With that quick exchange of makeshift mini vows, the two of you clinked the glasses together and let the liquor glide down your throats. This was truly a breath of fresh air and the best night you’d had in a long time.

it was only when the waiter would return to ensure that all was to your liking that you’d be met with yet another surprise from your beau. The waiter began asking him a question, something about the meal and suddenly, you’d hear him respond: “grazie mille, tutto è perfetto.” The words flowed so casually from between his lips, it caught you by surprise..yet, it was nothing to him. He’d continue on speaking to the man in fluent conversation before he walked away. Turning back towards you like normal. Which brought up a soft chuckle from your end. “What’s the matter, princess? What’re you laughing about?” “Okay, Mr. Bilingual. You never told me you spoke Italian and so perfectly too.”

but like many other talents of his, Eren attempted to downplay the whole thing and wave you off. You’d be even more shocked to find out he was actually trilingual..with a bit of German underneath his belt as well. “It’s nothing, just a little something I picked up from my granny and mom when I was a kid. And I took a few lessons here and there.” But something told you that he was far more versed in the language than he was letting on. So much so, (y/n) shot him a glare and batted those pretty little lashes. “Well I like it. Say something else.” Seeing how swayed you were by the little display, he’d decide to do something special. “Yeah? Good to know.” It was such a romantic language and nothing would be more swoon worthy than a dance underneath the moonlight as he sang into your ear. Waving the waiter back over, he’d whisper something to him in Italian yet again before extending his hand across the table. “May I have this dance, mi amor?” In that moment, your cheeks burned and your body went flush with happiness. Gladly accepting. That much you understood! “Why, yes sir, you may..” Helping you to your feet, he’d circulate until the two of you conjoined as one in a cradle. His arm rests at the small of your back and yours on his shoulder as your opposite hands intertwine. Those beautiful green eyes glaring at you as if you were a precious jewel..one he wanted to protect and cherish. Swaying you back and forth to the rhythm of the music, head pressed to his chest as he held you close. Then something even sweeter happened…

“Wait…I recognize this song—“ and indeed you should have, as it were the song you guys danced to at your wedding. The instrumental created by the orchestra is spot on. But the best part was when you heard the lyrics being recited back to you in such a beautiful voice..and the language of the country! “uno, è come un sogno che si avvera. Due, voglio solo stare con te.”

Eren serenading you with his absolutely amazing voice along with his mother tongue was not something you’d ever expected but you were ascending to cloud nine right now. Tilting your chin up with the tip of his finger, he’d peer down at your pretty face and kiss you once more. “You’re so beautiful, princess. I don’t know how I got so lucky..” but you had the same sentiment! He truly was one of a kind. You’d spend the next twenty minutes or so dancing about under the stars, being entranced by the various renditions of your favorite love songs. “Talk to me again, baby? I love the way you speak to me..” And honestly, lost in one another. Filling your ear with sweet nothings in that second language..telling you how much he loved you and how beautiful you looked. “voglio solo stare qui per sempre con te..” Along with subtle touches to your thigh as he raised the hem of your dress or lowered his hand residing on your back. Suave and smoother than ever. He had put so much thought and care into it; this only being the first twenty four hours of it had you stoked to see what else he could possibly have in store..there was no way this could be topped!..

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:.･*:｡.･*:｡.･

or so you had thought when you made it back to the hotel you were staying at for the duration of this excursion. The Gritti Palace, Venice’s most popular resort for tourists and celebrities alike. Its gorgeous architecture and rich background..all a way to draw people in. And you were sold the second you came through the door. But the master suite he had booked? It was reminiscent of something from a fairy tale. You couldn’t believe this was real! An hour or so had passed..and while you were getting checked back in, your husband was making some other arrangements. Such as getting a trail of roses strewn from the entrance to the bathroom, ending in the bedroom across the mattress where it had a rather sweet message inscribed, chocolate covered strawberries sitting near the bedside, a bucket of ice, and a bathtub full of bubbles where the two of you were now. Sipping on glasses of Ace of Spades whilst your feet rested against his chest. His hand gently massaging your instep and rubbing on the soles as he kissed the perimeter of it. Subtly suckling at those white painted toes. Your bodies submerged into the sheath of foamy soap. “So, what you think of your first time in Italy? Meet your expectations?” The question was all but rhetorical. You were blown away by everything he had done so far and looking forward to what was coming. “Exceed is more like it. I can’t believe you planned all of this, just for us…” Eren would merely chuckle as he watched you with deep seeded, lustful eyes from afar..you still nursing your drink and him massaging your legs. “I told you, I’d do anything to make my baby smile..anything.” Saying so with much conviction and a rather suave voice. The look on his face, that of one signaling for something a little more. And trust, it didn’t take long for you to pick up the hint. Seeing as how he had wooed you and worked so hard to make this dream destination possible..you couldn’t help but to want to return the favor.. “..you’re too good to me.” And it was apparent exactly what he was in the mood for at the moment. Raising a hand from beneath the water, Eren took his index and middle fingers; both wrapped with silver bands and tattoos and waved you over. To which you’d maneuver and crawl over onto his lap. “Oh, I’m just getting started..” Swaddling you in his muscular arms as he brought you down for a kiss. Your tongues slowly intertwine in sloppy pecks. (Y/N) eventually brought your hands to the back of his neck and began to straddle his lap in the process. “Mmm..is that right?” “..come find out.” Faint moans filled the air of the bathroom and eventually, what started out as a simple bubble bath had evolved into a full blown make out session. The water underneath your bodies sloshing around as a result of the not so subtle movements you were making..his hands scouring the perimeter of your ass; only to leave it with a sharp smack afterwards. “Ooh!..damn..” And you rubbing yourself against his obvious erect..the friction driving you both insane. So much so, he had to make the next move. “I want you so bad..”

admitting through baited breath as he lifted you from the tub and the two of you made a beeline for the bed. Your sud soaked bodies entangled on the fluffy mattress. It was almost instinct for your legs to spread in his presence..honestly, you had never felt the attraction and lust for any man that you had for your husband. But that’s what happened when he made you feel so safe..secure and loved. Not to mention..so sexy. Eren’s palms trailed further south and circled slowly all over that frame while he made home between your thighs. “God..you’re so perfect…reminds me of our wedding night. I’ll never forget the look in your eyes when I took off that veil..” confessing as he hovered over you, rubbing your cheek with a gentle brush. Those gorgeous brown eyes agleam with pure adoration for him. “Look up at me, baby?..” And he was equally as excited. His lips split into a wide grin..laughing with that thumb brushing over your lip before parting them and sliding inside. “..yeah, that’s the one. So damned beautiful..I just wanted to stay inside of you forever.” Truthfully, Eren could go on for hours about that night. Despite all of the hookups and hot sex you two had, all of them paled in comparison to the night that you consummate your marriage. To the night that you officially became his forever person. When you told him it was his, he knew it was real this time and that there was no chance of ever losing it. By the time you finished, you were both a wreck. Holding hands and exchanging tears of joy and wedded bliss. He wanted to not only relive that wonderful sensation but to create something far more special. With your palms cradling the back of his head, (y/n) stared lovingly; your fingers tangled in his chocolate colored locks before lowering it to the point that you were mere inches apart. You’d utter to him in a faint whimper: “..take me, Eren..it’s yours, baby. Make love to me the way you did that night.” And that was all of the motivation he needed. Splaying you across the silk sheets, taking a moment just to examine the beauty that was before him. A goddess-like figure, gorgeous brown skin rivaling that of Godiva..you were the living proof that angels existed. Diving deeper between your thighs, he’d bend further, pressing a bit of his weight down as your tongues meshed yet again. Feeding each other sloppy, slow kisses..ones that had each of your bodies ablaze with pleasure. Moaning one another’s names and brushing each other’s skin. When he finally withdrew back, he’d tug your bottom lip with his teeth gently before leaning up and reaching over to the bucket on the bedside. Filled to the brim with cubes of ice, Eren would casually place it between his fingertips whilst hovering over you. His mind was racing a million miles a minute. Normally, he’d already be buried seven inches deep inside of you with your nails scraping his shoulder blades but tonight..tonight was special. You required a lot more subtlety and care. To be romanced..teased and brought right to the edge until you could no longer take anymore and then, he’d take your body to heights never before felt! But first, he had some ideas and that much was told by the devious smirk on his face.

“You wanna know what one of the most beautiful parts are about being married? Is learning all about the other person..finding out something new everyday..” while he was speaking, that frozen little square made its way from your trembling lips, down your neck and to your breasts, where he circled them stagnantly against your nipples, which made you whimper and suck your teeth. He could see the little brown buds growing harder almost instantaneously.. “..what you like, what you don’t and my favorite part?..” and when he lowered his head to flick his tongue across them, he’d trail his hand south “..What turns you on.” simultaneously and let his fingers explore those folds. Soaking wet with arousal, all for him. Mainly due in part to his switch in vernacular earlier in the day. He could easily see how you were lovingly...and lustfully glaring at him when he began to fill your head and ears with Italian. How buttery smooth the words flowed from his tongue with no pause. How charming he was with it..you had never seen him so suave before. Make no mistake, he could get you out of your panties off of the simplest things but this hit so differently. “So..I’ll take as long as I need to. Stay here all night..touching, kissing and rubbing alllll over this pretty body..” and it was then that you felt that free hand move to your throat whilst that ice sat dormant in the center of your abdomen and he’d pull you close, whispering: “finché non impazzisci per tutto questo cazzo..”

naturally, you’d have no way of knowing what he just said to you but the way he lightly chuckled and placed a kiss to your jawline, you knew he was about to be a problem and that it had to be some freaky shit. So with that very hot declaration, he’d resume cooling you down with that clear cube; lapping up the remnants in all the places he had previously placed it. Taking extra time to fixate on those tender nipples. His warm breath on the chilled area as he gently suckled..even taking them between his teeth for a moment. Meanwhile, that ice landed on your mound and with a single pop to your skin, he’d part those legs even wider so he had room to run it down your thighs. Slowly guiding that frozen chunk all over your legs. A string of your moans growing louder and he’d be quick to quell them with a few pecks. But he wasn’t much in the way of wanting to quiet you down. He wanted to hear those sweet cries..to know that he was doing a good job. He could see that swollen clit protruding out for him and as badly as he wanted to spit on it and suck the little bud, he wanted to also make you climax before he even so much as put the tip in. Which he’d plan to make happen by finally moving the ice to your sensitive hood..circling it and whilst you were preoccupied, he’d slide a couple fingers into that tightness that was previously spasming on air. “Oh my gosh, ‘ren..baby..” your voice, shaky from the feeling of the cold brushing your skin. “I know, baby..but look. Look how wet you are for me already..that’s my girl.” Still lapping on your nipples and rubbing you with that ice. All his limbs worked in tandem to bring you unbelievable pleasure and all you had to do was keep laying your pretty ass right there, moaning. That grip around his digits only grew tighter when he commended you for how well you were taking him. It became apparent to him early on how much being praised made your heart and pussy flutter for him. You’d eventually find yourself fucking those fingers as that ice melted into your dripping warmth..coagulating with the rest of your wetness. Eren would then reach over for a secondary piece which he placed on your titties yet again. By this time, you were a salivating, stimulated mess..eyes faltering back in the process as his middle and ring fingers remained sunken into that needy heat. “I’m gonna come..fuck yessss. Right there..” He was thoroughly enjoying watching you come undone at his hands. He knew he had you exactly where he wanted and it didn’t help when you’d hear him pose yet another question that had you twitching and craving more. The aggression and passion in his voice oozed pure sex appeal. “Sì? verrai per me, mami? vuoi fare un pasticcio su queste lenzuola? sulle mie fottute dita?” Knowing you had not the first clue what he was asking but it was getting you hot and bothered..so much so, you were about to drench his entire forearm. Uttering all of this as he kept a tight grip around your throat and the other fingers plunged inside of you. Your mouth agape and jaw slack while exchanging wet kisses. Even swapping spit as he glared into your eyes. “Just nod your head, baby…say yes. You’ll do anything I ask, won’t you? You don’t even need to think about it, isn’t that, right?” “Yes, daddy! Whatever you want..”

crying out as you clawed into his arm and shook within his grasp. (Y/N) began to gasp, breathing heavily and he’d pump a bit faster. From there, you could barely contain yourself. Drool trickling down your chin, tears streaming down your face and your feet dangling in the air as you found yourself clawing into the backs of your own legs; folded up on instinct. “Then come, baby..let it out..” Withdrawing his hand at the same time. When he did so, he found himself met with a shower of sweet liquids..spurting out until he unplugged your tightness entirely and allowed you to flood his hand and eventually, his face. “Ooh..! ��Rennnn..okaaaay!” Before you knew it, he had your legs locked into a hold and his face buried in that pretty pussy. Sucking on your clit, nose scouring your cunt and the sounds of his moans humming against your sex. But not before he so casually stuck one of those strawberries between your teeth as a way to pacify you.

“Mmmm..it feels good, don’t it, baby?” Questioning while spitting down into your entrance. He was always so nasty when it came to eating your pussy; digging that same saliva out with the tip of his tongue. His long hair tangled between those long nails. That fruit puckered between your lips before he’d lean up and get a taste of both you and it. “So good…God, I love the way you eat this pussy.” Chuckling in disbelief of how amazing it all felt. Which in turn boosted his ego tenfold. He loved when you talked to him and more so sang his praises. “Right there, baby..put that tongue in it..ooh fuck. I’mma come again..” meanwhile, Eren had reached underneath his body and began stroking his cock to the sounds of your voice. It always got him so hard…and soon, he wouldn’t be able to withstand another second of not being inside of you. “I’m cool with that.” Leaning up in a swift like motion, only to flip you over onto your side and mount himself behind you. Taking one leg into the air and his shaft in the other palm to rub it momentarily. That thick length slapping against your slit..drumming up that gorgeous slick. “As long as you do it on this dick. You can make a mess all you want.” Gritting his teeth against your jawline before pushing himself inside with a gentle grip to the back of your neck, keeping you reigned in and entirely focused on him. “Right there..” sucking his teeth as he made home inside of that clamping flesh. And it felt as if it were the very first time all over again! “Fuck…così stretto..baby. la figa è così buona..” causing you to giggle at the sensuality in his accent. Coiling his arms around your torso and holding you close, Eren would begin to thrust into you..feeding you deep strokes almost instantly. As if he had been dying all day to be one with you. And now that he was, he didn’t want to let go..didn’t want to leave you ever again. Gripping his forearm, (y/n) gently grazed those fingertips into his skin; marking it up. Eventually, that gently paced pounding turned to you being fucked relentlessly. His arm coiling you in a makeshift headlock, his lips pressed to your ear and his balls slapping up against your ass. Already, he had caused you to start creaming all over him, which always drove him mad. Made him want to fill you with some of his own…

“Ahh! Eren…baby..” he then realized just how hard he was going and had to dial it back a couple notches. As to not hurt you or blow his load too early. He wanted to savor this moment…savor the sensation of being immersed in your warmth. “Sorry, sorry, baby..I got a lil’ carried away. But I just can’t help it.” Clutching your jaw between his fingertips and lightly squeezing, trying to keep you coherent. Even so, he was buried to the hilt..trying to hit the inner corner of your cervix. So much so, a slight bulge began to form at the pit of your stomach. But as he continued, you’d feel him reach down to massage your aching little bud. “You feel so good…look so pretty when I’m fucking on you..” mumbling on and whimpering as he began to throb and lose his pace. It wouldn’t be long before he filled you up but not until he finished bragging about his beloved. Telling you how wet it was, how you made him never want to pull out and how he wanted to give you his child. Just losing his mind in it..even breaking into a bit of tears as he neared his climax.

“Voglio entrare così in profondità in quella figa, sarai così carina con il mio dado che gocciola fuori da te..”

it wasn’t long before he was helping you rub your own out and you found yourself coming undone, releasing all over his pelvis and your own thighs. As well as the sheets and did you make a mess for him! One that had you quivering and apologizing. And Eren could do nothing more than hold you close and let you ride it out. “It’s okay, mama. Don’t be sorry…I got you…” quelling you with soft kisses. But it wasn’t long after he was the one in need of calming down. Because with you spasming; contracting around his length, he couldn’t slow down afterwards and next thing you knew..

“I’m coming, baby! I’m nutting in that pussy..hold still f’r me..”

“Oh God!…yes..”

clutching you in his arms and shoving his tongue into your mouth as he came inside, pumping your womb with that warm cream; with at least two loads worth and he didn’t let up until it was leaking out and the two of you glared at it together. With faint streams of tears spilling down both of your faces, he’d clasp his fingers with yours and join together. In that moment, nothing else mattered…you were his diamond, his star and the brightest light in his life and nothing would ever dim that for him. With sharp gasps, attempting to regain your breaths, he’d swipe the side of your face and hold you once more. you couldn’t believe how blessed you were to have such a wonderful man. One who was night and day..as tough and stonewalled as he could be..he was even more gentle and caring. Letting that guard down day by day to prove that you were the reason behind his transformation and he was forever grateful to have you in his corner. They could talk on the internet all they pleased, ran with whatever narrative they needed to but the only that existed..in his eyes? Was his princess..his reina

“Till death do us part, right? Well they’d have to kill me to keep me from loving you, mi amor..even then, I’d still find my way back to you in a million lives over.”

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