#the weather is so awful today so we were nearly the only ones at the garden centre!! which made it sooooo much easier!! enjoyable even!!

[satans-knitwear]

went to a garden center with my mom and grandma this morning! coffee, toasted muffin and the purchase of a very pretty painted gin glass (clearance sale £6.99!!)

really proud i managed to get out, be social and have breakfast!! that felt very needed and fulfilling

#spending time with family is so nice. especially doing something like that #the weather is so awful today so we were nearly the only ones at the garden centre!! which made it sooooo much easier!! enjoyable even!! #very much looking forward to finishing my jobs for the day then tryig out my new gin glass later and maybe restarting jedi survivor!! #i hope your day is treating you well and you have something to look forward to!! #💕💕💕💕

[houseofripley]

hello :) I have fanfic idea. So how about reader comes over to Rhea’s house and it’s snowing so reader has to stay longer because of the snow storm but Rhea pulls out the game dunk desires (a spicy card game) and things get heated ;) (PLZ SMUT AND FLUFF ENDING🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾) anyways bye bye 👋

Locked In.

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT, Thigh Riding, Spanking, Strap-On Riding, Strapwarming, Slight Manipulation??? WORD COUNT: 2,773 A/N: literally started working on this the second i saw this. loved this prompt

“Hello hello! I’m here!” You called out as you let yourself into your friend Rhea’s home. “You better not be robbing me, I have a knife!” Rhea joked from the kitchen.

You approached the woman finishing cutting up a watermelon. “You need to learn how to lock your door Rhe-Rhe.” Rhea set her knife down and turned to face your direction, flexing her arms. “Have you seen these guns? No one could stand a chance,” she said before putting the chopped up fruit in a bowl. “Also I left it unlocked for you, it’s fucking freezing out there. I didn't wanna make you wait in the cold.”

“What a gentleman,” You teased as you patted her back. The both of you made your way into the living room before plopping yourselves into the couch. “I swear people completely forget how to drive the second they see a couple of snowflakes.” You grumbled while a chuckle came from Rhea.

The two of you had spent the past few months spending bits of your free time together growing your friendship closer. But the past few weeks Rhea had been begging you to come to her place  nearly everyday. She also became more possessive over you, you noticed how jealous she got two nights ago when you went out with your group of friends. Rhea only talked to you the entire night and would tense up whenever you spoke to anyone other than her.

“Now why was I dragged to your humble abode today?” You questioned as the snow fell outside the large window several feet behind you. Rhea gave you a big cheesy smile before saying “Board games!”

You groaned “Will you ever get bored of forcing me to play your old people games everyday?” You complained to the woman. “You know you love it,” Rhea claimed before adding on “I just want to finish one last episode of my show.” As Rhea began watching her show, you stared at the dark twilight outside.

Both of you were soon disrupted by a weather alert blurting from the TV. You turned away from the window and looked over at Rhea whose eyes were glued to the TV screen, then turned your attention to the weather alert reading “Winter Storm – Blizzard Warning: In Effect 6 PM Through 11 AM – No Travel Advised.”

“Shit,” You mumbled looking at your watch. 5:28 PM. “I should get out of here before the roads get too fucked.” You said as you stood up. Rhea quickly grabbed your hand “No stay, I don’t want you driving out there. The roads are probably slippery already, I’d feel awful if I made you go home in this weather.” She coaxed.

“I’ll be okay Rhea, I really don’t wanna be a burden.” You said looking down at her. “I want you to stay.” Rhea stated, grabbing your other hand. The pair of you studied each other's faces before you nodded “If you insist…” You mumbled while the woman smiled and let go of your hands.

As the last few minutes of Rhea’s show played she made her way to the kitchen and grabbed a handful of beer bottles to place on the coffee table. “If we're gonna be stuck here we gotta at least get buzzed.” Rhea voiced as she made her way to her closet which housed all her games. 

You sat on the floor in front of the sofa as Rhea brought back an assortment of Monopoly, Skip-bo, and Connect 4.

“You ready to get your ass beat?” Rhea taunted, causing you to roll your eyes. “In your dreams, Ripley.” You bantered. Rhea winked at you before taking a swig of her beer. 

The woman had beat you in both Monopoly and Skip-Bo. “I need some damn wine.” You grumbled as you stood up.

You poured two glasses of the first red wine you noticed then brought them out to the living room. “Thank you, beautiful.” Rhea smirked, her compliment catching you by surprise leading your cheeks to flush. 

“You’re cheating!” Rhea accused after multiple rounds of her losing to you in Connect 4. You made a sarcastic angry expression “It’s Connect 4 how would I cheat!?” You snickered out. “It’s gotta be rigged!” She swore. “Rhe-Rhe it’s a piece of plastic I promise it's not rigged, also it’s not my fault I’m always two steps ahead of you.” You said playfully patting her thigh. 

“Not always,” Rhea muttered under her breath. You shot her a confused look, “Hm?” You hummed out. “Ah nothin’ you go pick the next game.” 

Rhea scootched back onto the sofa as she watched you make your way to the closet. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion once you spotted a sealed box. You walked back to Rhea, sitting down next to her holding the box she bought just hours before you came over. 

It was a card game that you never heard of, ‘Drunk Desires’ was labeled on the plain black box. “I have literally never heard of this…” You commented, Rhea gave you a look of disbelief before voicing a simple “Seriously?” 

“What is it? Teach me how to play!” You urged, assuming it was a game comparable to Cards Against Humanity. “Oh I’ll teach you how to play,” She purred out as she opened the box. “All you have to do is draw a card and do what it tells you, if you don’t you have to take a drink…but only draw the white cards first.” Rhea instructed, scooting closer to you.

The game seemed simple enough so you took a hold of the white card on top of the deck.

“Tell your game partner what you adore most about them.” You read out, you looked at Rhea smiling. “Ummm, I like your constant attitude…and big strong muscles.” You giggled out. “Oh yeah?” Rhea took a loose grip of your upper arm, her thumb running up and down your skin caused your hairs to stick up.

Rhea used her free hand to pick up a card that read ‘Tell your game partner a dirty secret.’ “I think my little secret will remain a secret until later,” She grinned.

“Now tell me why I can’t know now?” You pushed. 

“I'll tell you later…I promise” Rhea offered. “Hmm, you gotta drink and tell me later.” You persuaded her, she shrugged before taking a sip of her wine.

You both took turns pulling seemingly simple yet flirty cards, you both had answered nearly every question. The drinks you both previously consumed had obviously built  onto the tension the two of you had building over the past few months. 

Rhea’s hand slid onto your thigh as she urged you to grab a black card. “Have a three minute kissing contest, the winner drinks.” You stuttered looking over at Rhea, the both of you staring into each other's eyes. Your breath hitched slightly, you weren't expecting the game to take a twist down this road. “I-I’m sorry, you can take a drink if you don't want to, no need to worry.” Rhea assured you.

“No, I want to.” You confessed quietly as you slowly straddled the buff woman. Rhea grinned, “You have no idea how fucked up I am over you,” Rhea whispered as you rested your forehead against hers.

“Fuck, what type of game have you gotten me into…” You muttered, your hands gripping on Rhea’s shoulders. Lust had taken control of the both of you. You weren't sure who dived into the other first, but the one thing you were sure about is how intoxicating that first taste of your closest friend was.

Messy kisses worked to sync together while Rhea’s hands explored your hips. Both of your tongues mashed together while light groans escaped the back of your throat when Rhea began grinding your hips against her lap. Your hands found their way tangled into Rhea’s hair as her tongue investigated your mouth.

Rhea’s lips traveled down from your jawline to your neck, her teeth bit down on your sensitive skin before pulling away licking her lips. You could tell Rhea had been waiting ages for this. “I think we both deserve a drink for that.” Rhea murmured after prying herself off of you. 

Once you had both set your glasses down you reached over to grab Rhea a card. Rhea bit down on her lip before reading “Both you and your partner must remove a clothing item of the other's choice.” She paused for a moment, “Let’s get you out of those pants, pretty girl.” You obeyed and stood up from her lap, you let Rhea pull the waistband down and off your legs. Her hands caressing your legs for a few moments as she admired you.

You eagerly pulled the woman's shirt off before tossing it onto the opposite end of the sofa. “We have all night sweetheart, what are you in such a hurry for hm?” Rhea teased.

You bent over, grabbing your second black card that read ‘Go into another room and send a naughty selfie to your partner.” Protecting the card in your hand you let the woman know that you’ll be right back before hurrying off to her bathroom.

Once locked in the bathroom you slipped your hoodie and shirt off. You leaned against the wall posing and snapped a photo of your body in the mirror before sending it to Rhea. You added a text simply stating “Missing you in here. :(“

You knew your message had been seen when you heard a yell from the other room, “Get your ass back in here!” Rhea demanded. You decided to stay inside the bathroom, curious as to how she’d take it. “I know you heard me, I don’t like waiting.” The woman's voice approached.  

Rhea had pulled her next card and slid it under the door. ‘Take your partner’s underwear off without using hands.’ was displayed. “You got two options, sweetheart. You could come out now and have some fun with me or you can stay in there and I’ll go to bed without you.” She threatened.

You reluctantly opened the door, Rhea caught you by surprise as she threw you over her shoulder. “Good choice.” She mumbled out.

“Now be a good girl for me and you’ll get what you need.” The woman warned you as she laid you back into the sofa. “I’ll be the best girl for you.” You promised as she kneeled in between your legs. Her lips smirked while kissing on your inner thighs, a thread of whimpers escaped from your throat. She began to bite and pull at your panties, using her hands to keep your legs open for her. As your panties fell to your ankles, Rhea’s finger struck a single swipe up your folds, causing you to yelp out. “Such a sweet girl…” Rhea stated, licking her finger. 

A new card was handed to you as Rhea sat down. You flipped the card around to show the woman. ‘Grind on your partner's thigh for two minutes.’ It read. Rhea spread her legs apart as you settled yourself onto her left leg. ”Atta girl” She hummed.  A moaned “Shit Rhea'' left your mouth once your bare core began rocking against the fabric of the woman’s jeans. The two of you connected your lips as you whimpered into Rhea’s mouth, her hands traveling around your back.

Rhea’s hands got to work unclasping your bra, sliding it down your shoulders, and discarding it.

“Such a wet girl for me,” Rhea pulled away from your lips as she muttered while your sweetness leaked through her jeans.

You both knew you were past the point of no return. You needed each other…and you needed each other fast. 

You whimpered as Rhea pulled you up off her leg. “Shh, give me one second and I promise I’ll make you feel so good.” She reassured you while tugging off her jeans to reveal she had been packing the whole night. Rhea knew tonight was gonna be the night you finally screamed her name.

“Come sit on my cock baby.” Rhea murmured, helping you align your hips with hers. Your head fell back as you began sinking onto her. A whispered “Rhea,” came from your mouth as you settled at the bottom of her strap. You slowly rocked your hips back and forth as you let your walls adjust to her size. 

As you began slowly bouncing up and down her you threw your head into Rhea’s shoulder. Your hands clinged to the woman’s biceps. “So big…Rhea” You whined out, your nails digging into Rhea’s skin.

“Fuck!” Rhea groaned under her breath. “Taking me like such a good girl.” She complimented while her hands guided your hips to bounce faster. Your hands lifted Rhea’s bra off her chest. Whimpers filled the room while your hips traveled up and down Rhea’s length.

“That’s it…so good.” Rhea quietly reassured you. She did not expect how sensitive you’d be, the smallest movements leaving you overwhelmed. 

Tears formed in your eyes as Rhea’s hands held you down, forcing you to rock your hips against her. You moaned against the woman’s shoulder, your clit rubbing against the leather of her strap-on. “Feels so good doesn't it baby,” Rhea comforted.

 Your teeth clamped down on her shoulder once her hands guided you to bounce on her length again. “I know princess,” was said before a kiss was planted on your forehead. “You’re doing so good for me.” Was whispered in your ear. A loud yelp came from you as Rhea’s hands striked down on your ass.

Rhea’s hands tightly gripped your ass leading your hips to rock forward and backward as you bounced on her. You rested your head against Rhea’s cheek, tears escaping your eyes. Your walls tightened around her as your cries turned to screams. “I need you to cum all over me baby.” Rhea urged you.

“Rhea!! Fuck!” You screeched as your orgasm peaked. “God!” You yelped. Rhea helped stabilize  you once your legs began shaking eventually she let you sink onto her length after your legs gave out.

Rhea’s hands brought your face to match hers, planting a long kiss on your lips while your final tears fell from your eyes. “You were perfect.” She praised, wiping your tears. She let you move your head to rest on her shoulder as you let out a pitiful whimper. “Shhh…it's all okay baby.” She quieted her voice, her fingers tracing in your hair.

The woman let you rest on her as you occasionally delivered weak kisses to her neck. “I got you darling…you have no idea how long I've been waiting to hold you.” She whispered, wrapping her arms around you. After letting you rest a while she lifted your hips off her length, shushing you as you whined. She slipped off her strap before lifting you off the sofa. “We gotta get you in the bath, pretty girl.”

Your back laid against Rhea’s chest while you bathed together whispering sweet nothings. “Hey…what was that secret you were gonna tell me earlier?” Your question broke the comfortable silence.

Rhea laughed before admitting “That wasn’t a real weather alert earlier.” 

“What's that supposed to mean?” She had confused you.

 “It’s some year old year old recording I found. I've been keeping an eye on the forecast and chose today as the perfect day. All I had to do was make sure it was playing before you got here.” Rhea grinned whilst coating your hair with conditioner.

You scoffed out. “And you think all that was easier than asking me on a date?” You teasingly asked. “Where’s the fun in all that?” Rhea quipped.

“You bought that game just for tonight, didn’t you?!” You interrogated Rhea. Her silence told you everything you needed to know. “You bought that game cause you were scared to make a move huh.” You accused. 

“Woah hold on!” Rhea protested, “I was not scared, I just wanted to try something new.” She tried deflecting.

“You’re not fooling me Ripley, you’re a major softie. All clingy and jealous!” You teased. “I am not clingy at all!” Rhea fussed.

“Rhea, we are in the same tub and you are clinging onto me for dear life, what’s your excuse for that, hm?” Rhea tightened her grip on you more “I’m keeping you warm of course!” She chuckled.

You were absolutely right, Rhea was so infatuated with you she wouldn’t let you out of her sight until she had to go back to work a week and a half later. She went as far as trying to beg for you to be able to travel with her. Now that Rhea got to hold you, she never planned on letting go.

#rhea ripley angst #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley oneshot #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x you #rhea ripley smut #wwe smut

[ooffmlsorry]

Baby, It's Cold Outside

A/N: I swear I'm gonna work on my prompt posts after this but it was unexpectedly cold today and I was not ready 😭

Your feet crunched loudly underneath you. The snow comes up to your shines, forcing you to take high trudging steps. The wind is throwing snowflakes into your face, and your tears live short liquid lives before turning to ice on your cheeks.

So far, your first experience with snow is...hell on earth.

If hell froze over, that is.

The rest of the crew were completely comfortable in the weather, but what could you expect? The navigator was a polar bear after all. Someone had said something about part of the crew being from the frigid North Blue, which was suddenly beginning to make sense.

"There's gotta be something wrong with him," you muttered into the scarf wrap around the lower half of your face. It was swampy and damp against your skin, collecting snot and condensation from your breath. Disgusting. But at least it kept your lips and nose from going numb.

The plan was to rendezvous with the rest of the crew on the other side of the island. Bepo was leading the others across, and as the next best thing to a navigator, you were to guide and stay with Law to wait for them at this shabby excuse for a cabin.

You surveyed the white wasteland outside the window. A sheet of startling blue sky loomed overhead. Speaking of Law, you turned to look at your captain just slightly behind you. You couldn't read anything on his expression, but the fact that he didn't look nearly as miserable as you told you enough.

The shack you waited in had nothing except four walls and a fireplace--trees for firewood not included.

"How do you stand this?!" You say. "I'm so cooold!" The end of your whining turns into fake sob.

"Keep your eyes ahead, y/n-ya," Law says. The slight upward pull of his lips turns the neutral resting bitch face he normally has into an amused smirk.

You exaggerate your pout, "that's all I get?! This is my first time in the snow and it's awful! I'm freezing!"

Law chuckles. "It's not my fault you were raised on a tropical island."

Law only wears his hat, a coat--the same one you remember him wearing on Punk Hazard--and a pair of gloves. He's practically naked compared to your hat, gloves, scarf, dense coat, and wool snow pants.

You sigh loudly, your shoulders slump miserably in front of you. Law watches you with a twinkle in his eyes that causes warmth to bloom across your face.

The look in his eyes belays a fondness he normally hides.

He's enjoying this.

"How long do you think it will take the others to get here?" He asks you.

Business as usual, then. You walk back over to the shack's window to observe the sky.

"There's still no sign of clouds. In fact, snow blindness might be an issue for the rest of the crew. They're walking on a plateau, far away from any slopes so they won't have to work against any winds. I'd say three hours? Maybe a little less since some of you are cold weather natives." A draft blows cold winds through the cabin, making you shudder all the way down to your toes. "I can't wait until we literally blow this popsicle stand."

Law wraps his arms around you from behind. His front flush to your back and his chin resting on the top of your head.

"Oh?"

You lean in to him and stuff his hands into your front pockets so you can hold them. Gloved fingers intertwine. You have just enough room to lovingly stroke your thumb across the back of Law's hand. A wordless thank you.

"I won't listen to you complain about how cold it is for that long." Law's voice rumbles from. "I'll warm you up."

You watch the snow drift and dance in the wind through icy windows. You never knew the ice crystals people spoke of were truly crystals, until you saw them on the window. The last time you saw the sky this blue was back on your home island. Cloudless and comfortingly blue.

"It's actually kind of pretty," you say quietly.

"It can be," Law responds. He surprises you further by pressing a kiss to your temple. "You were too busy freezing your ass off to notice."

#one piece x you #one piece #trafalgar law #law x reader #one piece x reader

[delusionalmultifandomwriter]

Heyy, can you do a fic, where Batman and Robin are driving through Gotham, relax and talk about life, while they get something to eat? Something cosy for a chill night story?

Oneshot

words: 1220

because you didnt specify, i picked Dick as Robin for this oneshot

Note: Dick is around 13 years old, takes place somewhere during the start of YJ S1.

Dick Grayson had an awful day at school. He nearly fell asleep during history class which luckily noone noticed but still he hated it, trying to keep his eyes open when all he wanted was to sleep for a full 24 hours, after that he slept through his lunch break and froze off his toes in the cold January weather while he tried to perform in a football game.

Normally, Dick was excited when Bruce came home because it meant that he would get to either do some training or go on patrol very soon. Tonight, he was sitting on the living room floor, laying on his English exercise book on the couch table and wanted to stay inside for the rest of his life time. Or at least until the snow started to melt.

Bruce entered the house and hanged his coat to dry next to the door. He made his way into the living room were he spotted Dick laying on his textbooks. "Are you trying to do or to crush your homework?" He asked smiling. Dick huffed and buried his face deeper into his arms.

"That bad?" Bruce's tone changed into a more concerned one as he approach Dick and sat down on the couch next to the boy. Dick grumbled something inaudible into his sweater sleeve.

"Come on, you have to talk to me. You are clearly not feeling the aster." Bruce said with a half-smirk. Dick groaned and lifted his head. "Im feeling the dis-aster." He groaned. Bruce leaned foreward and took a glance at Dick's textbook. "Shakespear, i see. That definitly is a disaster. What have you got so far?" He asked.

"The 'eye of heaven' is the sun." Dick grumbled. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day." Bruce said dramatic. "I see." "I'll just google it." Dick mumbled and buried his head back into his arms. Bruce nudged Dick playfully. "Richard Grayson, i will pretend that i didn't hear that." He scolded him playfully.

Dick giggled and sat up to nudge Bruce back. Bruce parried the attack of the boy gently. Dick sat down next to him. "Do you want to go for a ride and eat some unhealthy food?" Bruce suggested. Dick smiled widely. "Yes please." Bruce got up and waved for him to come with him. "Come on, before Alfred catches us and forces nutritional dense food on us."

Dick smiled and followed Bruce, he swiftly put on his winter boots and his jacket. Bruce also put his coat back on and they headed into the garage to get into the car. The boy sat down on the passenger seat and put his seat belt on excisted.



Dick was eating some fries when Bruce pulled back on the street. They sat in silence until now but as Bruce drove through the streets he finally broke the silence. "So, is it only Shakespear that annoyed you today or did something else happen?"

Dick shrugged as an answer. "I don't know, today was just... mid." School was boring and we had PE outside and i was tired. It was all... okay." Bruce nodded while he sipped his coke. "I see. Want to talk about it?" He offered. Dick swallowed some fries he was munching on. He shook his head. "Not really. Just forget about it." He grumbled, the lights of Gotham passed by outside as Bruce drove outside of the city.

"Are we going on patrol later?" Dick asked. Bruce leaned back into his seat, holding the steering wheel with one hand. "If you want but i wouldn't mind when you stay in tonight and catch up on some sleep." Dick nodded and shrugged. "I don't know." Bruce smiled over at him. "You can still decide when we get home, you look like you could use a night off."

Dick sighed. "Do you think i can stay Robin forever?" He asked hesitantly. Bruce was not too shocked by the question, Wonder Woman brought the topic up a few times before.

"If you want, you can stay Robin forever." He answered. Dick nodded pensive as he looked out of the window. "If you ever want to become another alter ego, you can, of course. But you can always stay my partner." Bruce added. Dick smiled down on his milkshake before he took another sip.

"But don't you even dare calling yourself 'Captain Obvious', in that case i will have to end our partnership." Dick laughed. "It was Wally's idea, i swear." He argued. Bruce shook his head unbelieving but smiled a little. "That boy is full of bad ideas. Who even brought that topic up?"

"It's just... it was M'gann. She asked what connects us. I'm sure she didn't mean it but.... yeah." Dick said, Bruce could hear the sorrow in his voice. "Because our costumes have nothing in common."

Bruce huffed. "M'gann is still learning about earth." Dick shrugged. "I always thought people would know we belong together. We complement eachother perfect." He grumbled. "That's true. Well, at least all the villains we arrested know we are a team." Dick chuckled at Bruce's response.

"Do you like the team so far?" Bruce asked curiously. Dick nodded. "Yeah, it's amazing. Im excited to go on real missions with them. Although, Superboy doesn't really like the aster." Bruce chuckled. "I think he just doesn't get it." He answered. "He is also just getting used to earth. And also to your humour."

Dick nodded smiling. "Yeah, took you a while too." Bruce pretended to gasp dramatic. "I am outraged, although, you are probably right. You were a handful when i first took you in. You still are." Bruce chuckled.

"What did you hate most about me?" Dick asked straight away. Bruce huffed. "I took you in, i loved you. Although, you leaving all your stuff around in the manor probably put some stress on Alfred." Dick laughed. "Yeah, maybe." "You still leave your shoes everywhere." Bruce teased Dick.

Dick chuckled sheepishly. "Yeah... it is so i can.. ugh... for a top secret reason." Dick said and nodded fast. Bruce laughed. "Of course it is."

"Would you adopt another kid?" Dick asked between eating more fries. Bruce looked on the street thoughtful and stole a fries from Dick before answering. "Maybe. I never thought about adopting a kid when i took you in but i didn't regret you for a second. Maybe, if it happens. Would you like a sibling?"

Dick thought about it a moment. "I don't know. I never had a sibling before, i was always the only child. I like that it is only you and me for now. Maybe one day." Bruce nodded solemnly. "Sounds good." "What did you like most about taking me in?" Dick asked curiously.

Bruce thought for a moment before he smiled to himself. "I was very fond of your 'hug attacks'." Dick laughed in response. "You haven't done that in a while, how come?" Bruce asked. "I thought i was getting too heavy for it. I could probably knock you over." He admited sheepishly.

Bruce smirked. "Nothing, can knock over The Batman." Dick nodded slowly. "So... can i do it?" He asked. "Always, even when you are taller than me." Bruce answered quickly. Dick smirked. "I will attack you when you least expect it, Bossman."

#batfam #batman #my writing #batfamily #bruce wayne #dc robin #dick grayson #dc comics #hug attack #dick grayson does hug attacks #car driving #late night drives #young justice #captain obvious #oneshot #fluff

[elvirable]

Fast Lane | Chapter 2

[ Simon Riley x f!Reader ] | ao3 link

rating: explicit | word count: 3.7k | status: work in progress themes/tags: damsel in distress, protective Simon, smut, car chase scene, simon lowkey stalking you.. for a mission ofc, gun violence, loose plot ———————————————————————

Simon had never said a word to you, but he was beginning to know you. Only through the small details, of course. In other words: Simon “Ghost” Riley has kept a close eye on you for weeks now, waiting for the mission cue. Action ensues to rescue you, a thrilling car chase, and ends wrapped in hotel sheets.

(Ch.1)

-

Your fingers drummed against the side of your thigh, timid tension buzzing throughout your nerves.

Elevator doors parted to reveal high ceilings framed by walls of blue glass that overlooked the street. An oblong conference table dominated the floor space, leather chairs neatly tucked into the wooden surface; the room was nearly empty except for a few seated executives, broad men who could only be assumed as security, and a waitstaff who was rolling in a cart adorned with pastries and an espresso machine.

You must’ve looked like a wide-eyed doe in the headlights because your awe was interrupted by a smooth, older voice greeting you.

“Welcome,” one of the executives rose from his seat. “I hope you didn’t have much trouble finding our office.”

He was an older man, middle-aged with an animated smile compassed by trimmed facial hair and wrinkles. Like the other executives, he exuded an air of professionalism and prestige  — graying slicked back hair, a firm posture, and a well-tailored suit. He made his way over to you, extending a palm to greet you.

You shook his calloused hands and matched his welcoming smile. He introduced himself and the others as he guided you towards the conference table, inviting you to sit.

“If our secretary, Tanya, didn’t already tell you, we were absolutely impressed by your resume.”

“Yes,” chimed one of the other executives, this time a slightly younger man whose expression was sharp and slim. “Our managers spoke highly about your interviews. Your work ethic and attitude is exactly what we need to incorporate into our culture.”

“Ah,” you were admittedly flustered, taken aback by the rush of flattery. “Thank you.”

You were normally talkative and expressive, but the atmosphere instinctively caused you to urge composure. Honestly, you didn’t believe you would get this far. With initial shock, you had been invited for a final round interview for a job you desperately needed. 

“So,” the first executive paused to sip his coffee, “we invited you here today not only to meet the person behind the resume, but so you can get a feel for the office.”

He praddled on while an assistant offered you a freshly poured espresso and pastry, to which you nodded with quiet gratitude. Your eyes returned to the man speaking, but you couldn’t help to feel the two other men’s gazes lingering on you  — a sensation that didn’t feel too great, instead somewhat grimy.

“With remote work being so popular nowadays, unfortunately a lot of our staff aren’t in today. Feel free, however, to take a look around. Marcus here,” he gestured to the man with sharper features, “can give you a tour while Tanya drafts up the rest of your offer and paperwork.”

“That sounds great, thank you.” You held a cordial smile across your lips, sipping the espresso; it was extremely bitter, and you had to conceal the urge to twist your face into a grimace. So odd  — the man before effortlessly finished his. You weren’t in the habit of drinking straight espresso, perhaps it was an acquired taste. 

You placed your cup back onto the stained mahogany table, managing to finish the remaining sip. Lifting your gaze to the two men seated across from you, their eyes no longer traced your figure and were instead droning into your eyes. Marcus was the first to cut into the short silence by commenting on the weather and continuing on with material, surface-level topics.

Conversation was light, briefly landing on details about the company’s benefits and employee retreats. An odd feeling pitted your stomach. Maybe it was your nervousness, being in a setting you weren’t quite used to  — or the culmination of an extensive interview process. 

The chatter fell to a natural hush before you spoke.

“Alright, Marcus, I’d love a tour if you’re ready.” You offered another polite smile to which he immediately replied.

“Ready when you are,” his smile was flat, perked at the corners of his mouth. He rose from his seat after you, meeting you at the entrance of the elevator.

The third executive, who had been mostly silent until now, headed towards one of the sleek doors on the conference floor. As the elevator whirred, he wished you farewell. You thanked him with a parting wave, but your smile faltered as a rush of nausea coursed through you. It was rapidly accompanied by light-headedness. Again, however, you internally dismissed it by chalking it up to anxiety or standing up too fast. 

With a chime, the elevator doors opened. Marcus stepped in after you, completely ignoring your clearly unsettled demeanor. 

“We’ll start with the marketing branch. Some of our managers..” his voice began to fade, now replaced by a loud ringing clouding your hearing. Your vision was framed by a darkness, and your head felt unbearably hot as your knees began to buckle beneath your weight. Panic rushed through every muscle, hastening your breathing as you fought to grasp your consciousness.

The last thing you remembered were the steel doors rolling shut and arms catching you as your vision was engulfed by black.

…

Humming vibrations and muffled voices lulled you awake.

Bleary and blinking, your eyes focused on the ceiling of a car interior. Light streaks washed over the gray felt, the woosh of traffic sounding more clear around you as you regained your bearings. 

Stiff-limbed and still  — you were laid in the backseat of some standard SUV. You immediately became mindful of everything  — your breath, muscles, anything to refrain from drawing attention to yourself. Your hands and ankles weren’t bound, so you doubt they planned for you to rouse during the ride..wherever you were headed.

Two men, burly and toughened, were seated in the front; heads you haven’t seen before. A murky myriad of questions throbbed against your head, but you couldn’t entertain them. Fear gripped every shred of you, despair settling in at the impossibility of the situation. You wanted to scream, to bang on the windows in the hope some passenger car would call for help. But again  — you couldn’t; you were frozen with dread.

Raised voices dripped with frustration, drawing you out of your frightened inner echochamber. 

“Who the fuck is this guy tailing us?” came a growl from the passenger seat.

“Agh, we’ll lose him. Probably just some asshole,” replied the dismissive driver. There was a click of metal before the rich scent of tobacco permeated the air. 

“Pass ‘em over.”

“Let me get a drag in first, you ass.” Despite the roughness in his tone, the passenger let loose a throaty laugh.

Silence again, except for motors whirring around you and the quiet inhales of cigarettes. 

“Fuck, look at this asshole. He’s trying to pass us up.” You could hear the passenger vexingly shift in his seat, leering at the side mirror.

“Just let him, who cares.”

A mechanical whirr droned as the passenger window rolled down, the man starting to shout undoubtedly some creative curse before a softened pop sounded. Panic immediately ensued in the SUV as the car’s smooth speed now turned bulky and bumpy. Some car horns blared outside followed by the roaring of mufflers.

“Fuck, fuck! He shot our back tire  —” there was ruffling from the passenger seat before a click, the man racking the magazine of his tactical pistol. 

“We’ll push ahead,” said the driver, voice firm before he was interrupted by the buzz of a radio blotter.

“You guys OK in there?” questioned the radio.

“Yeah, yeah  —” said the driver in a rushed tone. “Back tire blown out, we’re still good with the front.”

“Detailing the escort car right now. They saw the shot come from a black pick-up.”

“Black pick-up,” confirmed the passenger. “Asshole has a silenced pistol, too.” 

“They’re three cars behind you, the escort  — just push ahead.”

“What do we do about the psycho?” inquired the frustrated passenger.

“Escort will deal with it, so just push ahead. Pull over at exit 42 and use the ‘donut’ in the back.”

“Got it.”

The radio feed fizzled as the voice faded out. 

Panic was boiling through the shock and numbing fear that had locked your limbs earlier. Adrenaline now coursed through your veins, riling up your thoughts as you combed through all the possible actions you could take to make it out of there  — to make it to the black pick-up, the only chance you had. 

More shuffling came from the passenger seat, his body beginning to turn in your direction. Instantaneously, you shut your eyes and focused entirely on regulating your breathing to a steady pace. It seemed to suffice, as the man turned back to the window in silence. 

Once he began talking again, you peeked your gaze to the tinted windows. Perhaps once the car returns, you could start banging or lower the windows to garner the attention of the black pick-up. Apprehension twisted your lips at the sight of the passenger’s pistol resting near the center console of the car. 

“There he is, coming up,” the passenger hastily blurted, readying his pistol and angling his head to get a proper view of the black pick-up in the side mirror. 

A sudden bang, followed by pitched metallic scraping, rocked the car. An off-guard yelp slipped through your lips. The man in the passenger instinctively turned to face you, proving fatal as another soft pop went off  — warm blood splattering onto your blouse. The passenger’s body slumped over.

Pure shock was trapped in your throat as you sat up, shaking any fixation on what had just happened. The driver’s movements were now rigid, struggling to turn the wheel; you could now view how the car was nearly pinned against the black pick-up and was edging closer to the divider.

“You’re fucking crazy!” shouted the driver, still wrestling with the wheel to prevent completely crashing. He was completely aware you were wide awake, sputtering towards the window while the car jolted, but he didn’t care. 

As you approached and lowered the tinted window, the sparking and scraping metal became unbearably louder. Your panicked eyes looked over towards the black pick-up driver, only to have your gaze met with dark ones. They were ashened, the only striking feature that hadn’t been covered by a skull-donned balaclava. 

You didn’t know these eyes, but they knew you. They had finally found you. 

“Get in. Now,” barked the man, his order direct and urgent. 

The backseat window of the pick-up lowered. For a brief second, in your hesitation, another car was approaching from behind visible from your peripheral view — a similar SUV as the one you were in.

With a deep and shaky breath, you climbed and hurled yourself into the backseat of the pick-up. Your knee and wrist throbbed with an immediate pain from your landing, but the adrenaline overrode any urge to wince. 

Almost instantaneously, the black pick-up pulled away from the SUV and shifted lanes. More car horns blared, distant police sirens swirling and oscillating far behind all of the commotion. 

You stuttered, mouth agape as you stared at the masked man. You had no option but to trust this man, and more questions began to batter against your mind.

“Who are  —” you began, abruptly cut off by his deep tone.

“Get down and stay down.”

His voice was enough to silence any burning questions you had in the moment, as you promptly followed his words. You ducked low, laying against the leather upholster of the backseat. However, your stare never left the masked man; the only window into this mysterious savior were his eyes, which droned forward with a calm composure. 

The car lurched as he moved over to another lane once again, and you clung onto the passenger seat to brace yourself. 

Sirens had grown louder momentarily, until he turned down a winding exit between thrushes of trees. The silence had now become deafening, matching the volume of your pounding heart. After a few minutes, the car stilled to a stop in a gravel parking lot. 

“C’mon.”

The car was still running as the masked man clicked the door open and exited. His stride was quick as he opened the backseat door and waited for you to stumble out.

“Where are we going?” you finally pushed the words out of your throat, fully processing them once they were spoken.

“Hop in, then I’ll tell you.” His gaze left your face to survey the surrounding roads, watchful as an occasional car passed the rundown gas station you were parked at. Urgency straightened his posture as he gestured to another pick-up, barely visible from behind the building. 

“I —” you closed your mouth just as quickly as it had opened, not sure what to even respond with. You were still confoundedly bewildered, frankly quite overwhelmed and haven’t begun to process what exactly had occurred. 

Gravel rustled underneath your footsteps, soon rounding the building and entering the new truck. It was white, a similar yet used model compared to the black one. Once you shuffled into the backseat, you looked over the contents placed behind the driver seat: a first aid box, a throw blanket, water bottles, and a small cardboard box with packaged food.

The man turned the ignition and the truck roared to life. He turned in his seat, arm extended against the passenger headrest to properly reverse the truck out. Quietly you sat, watching his focused eyes before they flickered briefly towards yours. 

“You okay?” his voice, originally harsh and low, was a softer tone now. You breathed for a few moments, perhaps to gather your thoughts or  the fatigue was finally settling in, while he turned and merged onto the main road.

You perused your body, which seemed fine, despite some bruising and the haziness still lingering in your eyes. The soreness of your limbs began to fade, and you sunk into the backseat after reaching for water. 

“Yeah, I think so.”

His eyes darted towards you in the rearview momentarily, watching as you drank the water. The car slowed to a pause at a red light, and he took more than a moment to study you while you stared out the window.

Small spots of blood were speckled across your blouse and exhaustion paled your face. You were now leaning against the window with your curled finger resting against your bottom lip.He had seen this face so many times wandering into the cafe or buried in a book. Peace was now replaced by a subtle distress, one lost in troubled thought. Those delicate hands were trembling, and your brows were furrowed.

The light flashed green, and he pulled his focus back onto the road.

“You can ask your questions now,” he cleared his throat. “Got a long drive ahead of us.”

His words seemed to pull your attention away from the passing outside view, somewhat successful in providing the ease he had aimed for. You shifted to lean comfortably into the seat, mulling over in your mind and twisting your lips. Chaos had fizzled into silence, and you needed help making sense of it all.

“Okay, first off —” you breathed, as if you had to brace yourself. “Who are you? Where are we going?”

“You can call me Ghost.”

“Ghost? You don’t have a real name?”  

“It’s on a need-to-know basis,” he replied before tossing you one of his task force badges. “We’re headin’ to a safehouse. You’ll get a medical check-up and be interviewed.”

“Okay,” you let the words swirl in your brain, lips pursed as his answers temporarily sufficed.

You held his laminated badge between your fingers — it was an official government issued card, which provided some relief. And you could almost laugh, if it wasn’t for the weighing exhaustion, 

that even in his photo ID this man still had a mask on.

“So, what exactly happened? I..” your voice trailed off, your thoughts sitting heavy on your tongue. You tried to recollect your thoughts in an attempt to piece it together yourself, but grew quietly overwhelmed.

Ghost glanced at the rearview mirror, watching your brows furrow and your soft face muddle with puzzlement. He waited for you to continue, but spoke when it was evident you were finished speaking.

“The agents will probably brief you, but you were being targeted. Not sure what for.”

He knew the details, but chose to be vague; to be honest, he wanted to spare you from the reality and didn’t want his words to be the cause of such anguish. However, Ghost’s words only spurred the confusion twisting your face.

He attempted to quell the trouble visible on your face, “You’re safe now.”

You smiled softly, finding some resolve in his response. Tucking your disheveled hair behind your ear, a strand slipped from your ear to frame the curve of your cheek.

Ghost noticed your smile when he glanced back at the mirror and felt a tug at his mouth to do the same. When you fell silent, he offered to turn on the radio  — something that he didn’t really do himself, but again to offer some ounce of comfort that he could. You responded that you would enjoy that, but at a low volume.. something to occupy your mind for the remainder of the car ride. 

And so the radio played softly for the entire ride. He’d notice when a song familiar to you would play, how you’d tap your fingers against your thigh. An hour in, Ghost would find you in the rearview fighting the urge to succumb to exhaustion since all the adrenaline had burned through you. 

Eventually, your eyes fluttered shut. 

During a stop to refuel the truck, he shook out the throw blanket in the back and delicately placed it over you. There was that default softly lonesome face of yours, at rest and fast asleep. His jaw clenched at some point  — a quiet anger tensing inside him at the plans those despicable men had in store for you. Oh, the grief that riddled through him when he imagined your gentle face wrought with fear and tears.

For the rest of the ride, he was diligent to drive carefully and avoid any bumps in the road while you slept away.

#sorry to my new mutuals #i am 80% aesthetic and 20% fandom #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #cod ghost #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #mw2 #ghost mw2

[washingtonscontinentalarmy]

Washington’s 1753 Winter

When it came to winter weather, the beloved General did not have the best of luck. The winters in Morristown and Valley Forge were not kind to Washington or his army as historians have famously reported. The winter of 1799 is also arguably what killed him. Of course, not every winter was completely awful with the Delaware Crossing in 1776 being very successful for Washington. However, did you know that the Delaware was not Washington’s only river crossing? That is what I am going to talk about today.

In 1753, tensions between the French and British armies were rapidly rising about who would control the Ohio Valley Territory. George Washington, then 21, was selected by the British army to carry out the diplomatic mission of ordering the French army to vacate the Ohio Valley. On December 11th 1753, Washington and his traveling companion Christopher Gist would deliver the demand to the French commander Jacques Le Gardeur, who politely refused, forcing Washington and Gist to quickly start the journey a second time, back through the wintery wilderness and their home of Virginia.

It was 18 days later, on December 29th 1753 that the two men reached the Allegheny River, which like the Delaware River would be 23 years later, was filled with large chunks of floating ice. The two men had originally assumed the river would be frozen over to the point where they would be able to walk across, and were therefore ill prepared for the crossing, forcing them to build a wooden raft and paddle across.

About halfway across the river, George Washington was tossed into the river when their raft crashed into a large ice pack on the river. Washington was nearly hypothermic due to the icy waters, and had Gist not been there to assist in pulling George from the water, it is possible that the mixture of woolen clothing dragging the man, and hypothermia impacting his ability to move properly Washington would have drowned in the Allegheny River at just age 21.

Due to the struggle, the two men were too exhausted to free themselves from the ice pack, making it impossible to reach the opposite shore or return the way they had come. Luckily, they were able to wade through the freezing water and stay a night (though miserable) on an island. By the next morning, the river had luckily frozen over allowing Washington and Gist to successfully return to Virginia, where Washington would go on to become the man we all know, while Gist who remained a friend of Washington’s went on to hold successful commands during the French and Indian War died of Smallpox in 1759.

One final interesting thing that can be observed about Washington’s 1753 trip across the Allegheny River is that it overlaps quite heavily with the Turn: Washington’s Spies scene, which shows Benjamin Tallmadge taking a plunge into the Delaware River during the 1776 crossing, leaving one to wonder if his experience may have been based off of Washington’s real world experience.

Source: “Washington's Winters.” George Washington's Mount Vernon, https://www.mountvernon.org/george-washington/so-hard-a-winter/.

#george washington #french and indian war #allegheny river #turn washington's spies #historical facts

[overalls4all]

Winter was approaching and the cold weather meant it was time to break out the insulated overalls and coveralls. Stefan was lucky enough to have a Master to provide him with his uniform.

He awoke one day in his cage. His Master let him out, and as his Master relieved himself on his face, Stefan noticed a package behind his Master. Stefan dutifully gulped down his Master’s piss and awaited further orders. His Master opened the package revealing a pair of yellow insulated coveralls.

“This is your new winter uniform. Put it on,” commanded Master.

“Yes sir,” replied a thankful Stefan. He pulled the yellow suit over his body, nearly every inch covered with the warm, durable material. It felt like an embrace from Master himself.

As Stefan stood before his Master in his yellow coveralls, his Master forced his tongue into Stefan’s mouth. The slave loved feeling his Master inside him, and right now his mouth was the only hole uncovered by the uniform.

“Your task today is to show the city your new coveralls. You are the find a young man, about your age, and tell him truthfully why you are dressed like this. Film your interaction and send it to me before my shift ends.” Commanded Master.

“Yes, sir!” Replied Stefan before Master spit in his face and left for work.

Stefan, clad in his yellow coveralls, left to obey Master's orders. As he stepped outside, a brisk chill burned his face. Thankfully, his coveralls kept his body warm as he began to proceed through the city. He made sure to make himself visible; an easy task while wearing bright yellow coveralls. Stefan relished the stares of passersby, content knowing his obedience was on full display.

Stefan kept an eye out for any man his age whose eyes lingered on Stefan's coveralls. Eventually, Stefan stopped for a coffee and noticed a man behind him in line eyed his uniform up and down. Stefan decided to approach the man.

"I noticed you were checking out my coveralls," said Stefan.

"Oh, um, yeah. It's an eye-catching look," said the man, somewhat surprised.

"It certainly is. My Master got it for me. As his slave, I proudly wear his uniform," said Stefan with a smile. He made sure to catch the man's reaction.

The man's face cringed a bit, clearly shocked by this talk of slave and Master.

"Um. Good for you I guess," replied the man after a few seconds of silence. The man knew recent laws allowed guys to sell themselves into slavery, but never met any slaves.

"First time meeting a slave I take it?" asked Stefan.

"Yeah, it's weird. But I guess you signed up for it, so..."

"It's actually really nice. All those little decisions throughout your that drive you crazy- all gone. I just obey my Master. These uniform coveralls are just a symbol of that!"

Stefan's name was called as his coffee order was complete.

"Think about signing up someday. Life is simpler as a slave!" said Stefan with a smile, before leaving. He could tell something he said struck a nerve with that man. That's when he remembered his Master ordered him to film the interaction.

"Hey, do you have one more second. My Master wanted a video of me talking about my slavehood with someone today. Could we make a video real quick?"

The man was still a bit in awe that he was having a casual conversation about slavery. Stefan's happy face was almost unnerving but he felt a kinship with the slave.

"Sure. Let's chat a little more for your Master."

And so, Stefan and the man talked for a few minutes about why Stefan loved his Master and the benefits of a life as a slave. Stefan even gave him his Master's number in case the man had any questions.

And lo and behold, a week later, Stefan learns from his Master that a potential slave would be joining him for a trial servitude. In comes that same man from the coffee shop, clad in the same yellow coveralls that caught his eye so much.

He smiled at Stefan and then Master, "I'm ready to obey, Master!"

[fizzycherrycola]

UK Bros Weekend WIP

I’m still working on my PrUK story, I swear, but this came to me in a dream and I had to write it down. Words in (brackets) are just basic notes of what I want to happen. Please keep in mind, this is a WIP, nothing here is finished. Warnings for England being a bit of a twat.

Windsor, UK; 2 February 1901

(The air is cold and damp. Nipping. Ice clings to brick.)

Wales shakes his arms, making the frost fall from his greatcoat, impervious to the aura of death and solemnity that, like the shrouds of the snivelling women who today line cobblestone streets, does drape over Windsor’s train station.  

Slipping his hand into one of many pockets, his fingers wiggle about, then clasp around paper wrap. He smiles. Pulling the small bundle out, he tears open the package without so much as glancing at the label.

Scotland raises one of his great, shaggy brows. “A biscuit?” he asks. “Where’d you get that?”

“From a bakery in London,” Wales says, gazing at the confection’s fancy crucifix design. “Shop windows were piled with them; you should’ve seen it. Loads of different flavours, too.”

With a crunch, he bites into it, rolling his tongue along the golden-brown edge to avoid spilling crumbs on his ceremonial outfit. It’s a lovely flavour, pungent ginger with a dash of cinnamon, causing his toes to curl. The treat is almost enough to help him forget today’s awful weather.

(Ireland action.) “Is that a mourning biscuit?” (Describe him. Matching greatcoat and helmet. Stubborn lock of red hair poking out the front. The strap looks too tight.)

“Mmm!” (Mouthful of biscuit.) “It is. Would you like one? I’ve got more.” (Patting his pocket. He has several stashed in preparation for the long day.)

Ireland snorts. “I'm not sin-eating for a Famine Queen.”

Wales deflates. “That’s not fair. It’s only sin-eating if you eat it over her open coffin.”

“No, it’s.... Isn’t it if she’s within spitting distance?”

“But she’s not even that,” Scotland mumbles, nodding at Queen Victoria’s casket.  

(Describe it, coming off the train. Humans treating it with reverence. Readying it for the final procession to Windsor castle.)

Ireland hums. “Not spitting distance for you, maybe, but if that wind picks up again, I'd probably be able-”

“Shh!!” England hisses. (England action. He’s in front of them in the procession, just behind the carriage.) “For God’s sakes, will you lot be quiet?”

(The trio grumbles, shuffling in place. Cobblestones. Wales’ feet hurt. Dress boots.)

“(Fuck off)” Ireland moans. “We’ve been on our feet all day in the damn cold.”

(England action.) “All day?! It’s only been a few hours!” (England squints at Wales.) “...Are you eating?”

As if it would help, Wales hides the biscuit behind his back.

He shrugs. “Well, I haven’t had luncheon and it’s already noon. Figured we were allowed a bite to eat in-between processions. Besides, Her Late Majesty’s not attached to the carriage yet.”

(Ireland is amused.) “Aye, that’s military code. Procession can’t begin until the deceased is on the carriage.”

“And I’m starving.”

“You wouldn’t want him collapsing on route to the chapel.”

“Yes, and... well, I don’t think I’d collapse, but-”

“It’d embarrass the whole empire,” Ireland continues. (Sarcasm. More taunting. “You really need to be meticulous about this sort of thing.”)

England pinches the bridge of his nose and curses under his breath.  

(Describe him. Fringe from helmet nearly hiding his face. Wales feels bad, for a moment. Recall the effort England put into this thing. Humans were frantic. Military funeral for a royal, never done before.)  

(England action.) “Could all of you at least try to show some bloody respect? Christ, look at Australia – even he’s being civil. We’re almost at the chapel, and after the ceremony, you can bugger off and do whatever you’d like. But until then, keep quiet!”  

(He turns away with a huff.)

(Wales fiddles the last bite of biscuit.) “...Ireland?” he whispers.

(Ireland doesn’t answer immediately.) “What?”

“I meant what I said about the biscuits. I’m not helping the Queen get to heaven; I was just hungry.”

(Ireland studies him for a moment before sighing.) “It’s fine.” (He looks tired.) “What flavours have you got?”

“Oh.” (Wales action.) “I think I’ve got ginger, shortbread, buttermilk, almond....”

“Buttermilk.”

(Wales gives it to him. He opens it. It’s a skull design. Ireland gives a wry smile. He reads aloud the poem slip.)

“Thee we adore, eternal Name, And humbly own to thee, How feeble is our mortal frame! What dying worms we be.

Our wasting lives grow shorter still As days and months increase; And every beating pulse we tell, Leaves but the number to be leased.

The year rolls round and steals away, The breath that first it gave; Whate’er we do, whate’er we be, We’re travelling to the grave.”

(Wales action, finishing his own cookie.) “Oh, that’s an omen.”

(Scotland action.) “It’s not an omen. They print that poetry shite on half the wrappers; it doesn’t mean a thing.”

“He’s right,” (Ireland action.) “It’s just a reminder, warning humans that it all ends eventually.” (Ireland pops it in his mouth. Chews and swallows.)

(Psst! Australia catches their attention, behind them, where a few of the colonies stand together. He asks for a cookie. Wales tries to pass him one without moving from his place in the unmoving procession. Australia reaches, then his eyes go wide and he immediately snaps back to position, arms at his sides. Wales turns and sees England glaring at Australia. Then he turns back to the front.)

(Awkward quiet. Describe the scene. What led them there, to Windsor, the procession in London. The sobbing people that lined the streets. Most just gawking. And the pomp of the whole thing. The public display, the train to Windsor, the white horses, the military parade, the trumpets, the gun carriage. You’d think a queen had never died before. Most funerals of monarchs were performed quietly, but not this one. This is a departure from the norm.)  

(Wales doesn’t mind too much. It’s like a big, macabre celebration of death. The occult and superstition are as close as he can get to the old days. When magic beautifully intertwined with history and science. But for the sake of his brothers... Perhaps a quiet and speedy funeral would have been better.)

(To be continued...)

Speech patterns might change and some paragraphs might move around, but that’s about the first half of the story. Hoping to finish it before Halloween.

EDIT: THIS STORY HAS BEEN FINISHED!! Please read the full version HERE!

#hetalia fanfic #uk bros #hetalia uk brothers #hws england #hws ireland #hws scotland #hws wales #wip #my writing #historical hetalia

[musesofthemoon]

[kazeofthemagun]

It was typhoon season, but schools on Sadogashima were not expected to close anytime soon. The sky was grey, without a hint of sun to be seen through the clouds - as awful as the weather was, it took more than that to shut down the island.

As it stood, the wind was accompanied by a light drizzle of rain, a pesky companion on the way home as the last bell rang and children spilled out of the building in steady streams. The school day was over.

And that meant - the teachers weren't around to scorn the gossip anymore.

"Have you heard? The Hayakawas supposedly come from Wonderland," A girl chatted, earning a few gasps from her classmates. "Ai-chan might be the same sort as the things that attacked Earth a year ago!"

"Whaat? You mean to say that her and Yu-kun might be monsters?" Another voice chimed in, filled with fear and disgust alike. "I mean, I always did think something was off. I guess we were in the right to bully them."

"It's not bullying if they're not human," The first girl retorted, smiling somewhat wickedly as only children could. "They should just leave this place!"

She giggled - before walking straight into a figure that hadn't been standing there before. "Sumimasen -"

Words froze halfway up her throat as she stared, mouth agape, at the giant of a man before her. Cold blue eyes narrowed, glaring at the child from several feet above.

"Get. Lost." He growled, sending the kids scattering in not an insignificant amount of panic. If there was one thing Kaze was good at, it was scaring the everliving shit out of people.

Not like he needed to try.

The summoner's gaze tracked the scrambling kids for a moment longer, before turning towards the school entrance.

Someone was waiting for the Hayakawas, and he didn't take kindly to slander.

The children had seen the situation unfold from a ways away. They didn't hear much of what was said however, thankfully enough for them. It was easy enough to assume that Kaze had just given them a look after they'd bumped into him, and they were scared off by that alone. It was obvious to see that the man was intimidating, with his gaze harsh and his stature tall and broad. They might have apologized for him if they were around, but they weren't, so they weren't about to ask questions.

It's a bit embarrassing to still be picked up, when they were certainly old enough to walk home on their own, but for once they don't mind it. It may not be raining all that hard right now, but it could start pouring at any moment, as now was the season for it. They were certainly happy for Kaze's arrival today, when sometimes they might not have been.

So, without too much dawdling, they reach the gunman. "You're stuck taking us home today, huh Kaze?" Ai asks. Certainly she doesn't ask the question to mock him. She's sure there's ten other places he'd rather brood than around children rushing home without regard to whoever might be standing around them. Yu, however, merely sighs at his sister's wording, not wanting him to just leave without them. She was right, he could be doing anything else, and yet he was here. At least he'd made the effort to do so.

"Well, thanks for doing it anyway... Um, here!" Although Yu wasn't nearly as tall as Kaze, and couldn't quite get the umbrella over his head (mostly reaching to around his shoulder, which felt impressive all on its own), the attempt was certainly made. "Uh, sorry... I wanted to share the umbrella, but you're way too tall for me to do it..." A soft laugh riddled with his own embarrassment leaves the boy, but at least the gesture was made.

Even now, even in secret where they couldn't see it, the Black Wind was their protector. Nothing would change that to them, no matter how the children may show it...

@kazeofthemagun

#ai - ic #yu - ic #ai - answers #yu - answers #ai - relationships - the unrelenting wind (kaze | kazeofthemagun) #yu - relationships - order's yin (kaze | kazeofthemagun) #they're bonding and i care them so much

[inkofamethyst]

October 31, 2022

Course registration today was a bit of a mess, actually, but thankfully I think everything might turn out to be okay.  There aren’t any restrictions listed for the education class I wanted to take next sem, but when I went to add it, the system told me that I had to be a education major to take it.  So I email the instructor to plead my case, not expecting much bc she’s a grad student, and sullenly pick a greek art class as an alternate to fill the space.  The instructor gets back to me in an hour with permission, and I think I should be able to get in.  It’s a lower-level course, but the seats are already going pretty quick, so hopefully the registrar acts fast to lift to block.

I am having a wee bit of an anxious episode at the moment, but it was partly brought on by the frustration of feeling, once again, like an emotional punching bag.  Not in the way that I’m being emotionally abused or anything, but, like, in high school I used to have a friend who had a lot of issues at home and she’d turn to me (and also to my dnd-friend) almost exclusively with her problems and it was really draining, honestly.  I had to stop putting effort into that relationship because it felt so one-sided.  And, frankly, she’s part of the reason that I don’t go to people with my problems.  That people only hear about my problems after I’ve solved them or cannot conceive of a way to solve them myself and have already cried over it (and in those cases I go to my parents).

Anyway saxophone-guy (-friend?) saxophone-friend (the “guy” suffix will be saved for potential, uh, suitors) has been doing that to me since I met him and it’s become even more pronounced this semester now that we’re “just friends” because he never ever comes to me when he’s happy about something.  I spent hours on a birthday present for him and the first thing he says to me when we next see each other in-person is how bad his day has been (he did thank me for the gift over text last week (also I’d like to be perfectly clear: this was not a gift given with the intent to win him back, as that ship has certainly sailed, it was a gift given with the intent to stop him from always being so down in the dumps over his voice (because any time he felt self-conscious about it, guess who he’d text and guess who’d have to use the same lines over and over again to comfort the guy (I don’t expect people to be perfect, and I understand we’ve all got our hangups, but he’s got a whole therapist)))).  I just... people who start nearly every conversation with the intent of spilling their problems irk me.  And he had the gall to say today that he doesn’t like going to people with his problems because he hates bringing down their day.  HM.  It seems as though the self-awareness doesn’t stretch as far as he thinks it does.

It’s not my intention to disparage people.  I’m just terribly high-strung at the moment.  Second round of midterms, a month until my applications are due, regular assignments on top of that, trying to prepare for my future...

I don’t want to come off like a fair-weather friend.  Truly, I don’t.  But the guy needs a journal.  Maybe not an internet one, that seems like a pretty dumb idea tbh.

So that’s frustrating, and then I’ve got an exam tomorrow [edit, next day: it was just okay, I think the short answers were fine, but the matching was awful (who cares about Haldane’s rule so much that it shows up on two questions??)] and a draft of a paper due and two discussion boards to do because I’m behind and emails to send and two more exams this week and I’m already feeling awful.  This Friday can’t come soon enough.  And then I’m going to a concert (orchestra lol) this weekend, and a movie next week, and an opera two weekends from now... ah.  Just gotta get through this hell of a week.

Today I’m thankful that... I’m thankful for GMM’s Vote Like a Beast web service.  It was so useful and so much easier to build my ballot relatively painlessly compared to consulting a newspaper and endless maps.  Midterm elections are so important, but the local-ness of it all can for sure be more overwhelming and confusing than the big national elections.  And as a college student it would be so easy to just be Too Busy To Vote, but I’m glad I did.

[hav-vok]

cross posting from the wrong blog.

Oct 5

I'm not okay with my body image right now because I have to pack for Disney and the weather is warmer than I expected so I can't just hide in a big hoodie and I wanted to look cute but I just don't think I'll look cute or nice or anything other than a big fat blob of awful and I really don't want to ruin this with a fucking breakdown about how fat I am and how none of my clothes fit.

and the worst thing is I have no one but S to talk to this about. I have no girl friends I can't just pop up and say I feel like crap hype me up and help me find something fun to wear. I've never understood those scenes in coming of age films where the girls are all sat around in one room trying on each others clothes and doing each others hair. I never got that. I've never had anyone like that. I've never had a best friend that way. I've never even had a friend that way. not for 15 years.

half my life. half my fucking life I've not had friends to confind it and talk about this with and work through the trauma of societies expectations with. half my life. the half where it's mattered. no one cares as a kid. a little kid. but man as soon as you're aware of what this fucking world has its eyes on and what it deems is good and right and everything is it banishes as wrongs it's just traumatic trying to do anything else with that .

and now somehow I'm meant to have dinnerrmmmmmmsurbdn

I broke and nearly threw my phone so I dropped it and punched my leg lots instead.

I'm great. I'm good. I'm doing absolutely fine. about to go on the holiday of a lifetime apparently. what a delight.

Oct 6?

I keep opening and closing social media. like someone opening the fridge again to see if new food has magically appeared.

I realised that when I say friend, in most cases I think I should say acquaintance. because they're not friends. we were tied by a common place and most of our conversation rotated around that common place. maybe all I get are acquaintances. and I need to be okay with that level of relationship somehow.

Oct 8

so today I get on a plane for the first time ever and no matter how much I try I can't freak myself out about it which is good I guess. everything will be fine and it'll be so much fun and such a delight ✨

I'm sat in an airport waiting for a plane to arrive. it's ten minutes late which is wild but hey ho.

security was stressful and wild but nevermind I got through with only one misshap which for my first time isn't too bad.

getting random pain in my left toes though and knees hurt occasionally, and a slight headache which I blame on stress and stimulation.

Oct 12

so we'll Disney was a big ball of surreal crazy

idk why but mornings were not good for me. next time we go away like that I need to prepare for mornings better.

yesterday I felt quite bad, waves of sickness if I stood for too long, sharp pains in my stomach and guts. felt better if I sat for a while. didn't feel good enough to eat so I had a small yogurt, a few mouthfuls of lunch (cauliflower and pork mostly) and an apple when I got home. not lots of water either but I just didn't feel good. also got to experience a wheelchair for the first time ever, useful but not hugely.

feel a little icky today still but I'll try and eat nice plain foods here and see how it goes. Sam is out to work all afternoon so if I end up sitting in the bathroom then that's what happenes.

Oct 15

bs: weak+tingly hands, sore feet, achy hip R, little snotty, sleepy, weepy eyes, sore L shoulder

ms: flat, concerned about money this month

went to bed about 11ish last night, don't remember taking the hoodie off, don't remember S coming to bed, woke up a couple times during the night, once where the roof of my mouth was intensely itchy so I had some CBD , went back to sleep till S alarm at 8.40. 9.5 hours ish maybe ? obviously still tired from travel and Disney. but back at work today.

Oct 16

bs: mild cramps, can't tell if ovaries or intestines. L hand bad pins and needles during night, especially 3rd finger. sleepy

I was very snotty yesterday, and a bit coughy and had several long sneezing fits. I took some meds and went to work and it seemed to clear up. wondering if there's some dust or mould or something that affects me in my studio room. but it's so small and compact I don't really know how to go about changing that, since I have so much stuff. and things in this house get mouldy even in the warmer months let alone over winter when it's damp. oh to have central heating.

[sussex-nature-lover]

Sunday 23 October 2022

Stuck Indoors

You can tell from today’s photos that it’s dark, wet and gloomy outdoors and right now it’s also dark and a bit gloomy indoors, but like so many of us since the energy price rise, I’m militant about sparing use of lighting, heating and power. Miserable? or good practice if the rumoured planned evening power cuts are brought in this winter?

^radical intervention, Crow has rebelled and put the light on accompanied by the words ‘I’m sorry Coops, I’m going to have to put the light on over here’

We were woken up by thunder and as I type it really is as black as yer ‘at and the lightning has started to flash, so the storm’s back. Of course the first thing I do is get online to real time lightningmaps.org  It looks like the weather’s coming in from sea at the south coast and making its way north in quite a concentrated effort.

It’s just a coincidence that I peeped at my Twitter feed as I was looking out at very empty feeders (just one lonely blue tit and a soggy peacock underneath the trees) and saw this article which is called Where do Birds go in the Rain? It’s worth a look and I’ve just taken inspiration for a mini teaser. Who’s this?

I’ll put a reveal at the end of the post.

Because our area is prone to power cuts and because of the cost of oil - I had to order some this week and nearly collapsed at the invoice, we’ve got plenty of very well seasoned logs in and as it’s been relatively mild up to now, except for the evenings, we’ve been relying on the fire at night and it’s been lovely.

I love the look of the log piles as well. Our log man thinks I’m crazy, I suppose he would as he sees the hard work of them, but I really do like looking at them. I just went out to take pictures and spent a bit of time talking to the robin that’s taken up residence in the wisteria at the front of the porch and I could hear a lot of chatter not too much further away. It was the long tailed tits being extremely vocal. They make such a pretty sound, just like a pleasant running conversation.

Tree Watch. This is the big oak at the beginning of the week and the clump of trees at the bottom of the garden. The photo at the top is what I can see of the maple’s bright leaves today - what there are of them

I did go out and collect some fallen leaves to press. Looks like I need a few more golden ones, maybe Crow will assist.

I’m pressing them between heavy books and an awful lot of dampness has already come out of these, but they’re not dry enough yet. Dry enough for what? I’m not sure yet, except dry enough not to curl and roll up.

Because we haven’t been out and about this week, except to get the ‘flu jabs, I don’t have much that’s new for my nature diary, but I found these additional flower photos from Bateman’s and they’re a nice contrast to the soggy garden. The gardener’s display in the kitchen yielded some topical information because it identified a type of grass that Ms NWtE had in her wedding bouquet last month. 

She’d specified that she wanted only seasonal British flowers, which meant that she had an unusual and interesting mix of blooms and a number of different kinds of foliage and grasses.

I’ve kept some strands of this Panicum in a jug, it’s all I have left, but I didn’t know what it’s called until the visit.

The flowers were absolutely beautiful

Elsewhere in Bateman’s garden there were little surprises here and there. A late Magnolia Grandiflora bloom, these Autumn Crocus, plenty of roses, some very architectural looking flowers on the last of the leeks and the hips of rose bushes in the vegetable garden. Enjoy the last bits of late summer colours and shapes.

The mystery bird who ventured out to the feeding station is a female great spotted woodpecker

posed by model on a clear day 😉

Mini blog with more pictures on this link

#weather flowers nature gardens

[lindsaystravelblogs]

Kangerlussuaq to Toronto

Day 14 (and a bit)

We spent quite a lot of time just waiting today. They needed us off the ship so they could prepare it for the next voyage: the Northwest Passage, starting tonight. It is a shorter version than the one we are booked on next year. Ours is the so-called Complete Northwest Passage.

I felt really sick most of the day so had a very light breakfast (and still only ate half of it) and retired to our cabin where I lay on the bed for an hour or so, fully dressed, ready for the rest of the day.

They announced that our flight to Toronto had been delayed an hour, but we were still encouraged to get checked in with the airline staff who came onboard for the purpose. We packed our last minute things and took our bags down to the Lecture room and passed them over to be taken to the plane and hence to Toronto. I was still feeling awful so just sat in the lounge and tried to doze for another hour or so. Then it was back into our life jackets for the last time this trip for a zodiac transfer and dry landing in Kangerlussuaq.

We were all then loaded into three exceedingly ancient buses (the drivers called them trucks, quite appropriately) for the drive into ‘town’. Town was something of a misnomer because it never was a town. It was a US Air Force base during WWII and the Cold War but was then sold ‘as is’ to Greenland for $1. It is now Greenland’s only International Airport but two more airports are under construction, one being in the capital Nuuk, and there are fears that the current site may simply be closed down and everyone relocated. The town now consists of almost 500 people all using the original buildings more or less unchanged. It seems to be a really nice community and it would be a pity for it to simply be abandoned.  (There are currently 37 airports in Greenland, servicing a population of 50,000 - a ratio probably unmatched anywhere else in the world.  But if we looked at kilometres of road per head of population, they would probably hold an entirely different world record.)

Our driver gave us a very interesting travalogue as we went along. He has lived there for 11(?) years and had lots of anecdotes to share. We drove through town to a hotel where we had a barbecue lunch. I ate very little, but the reindeer sausage was really excellent. The musk ox tasted fine but was much too rare for me.  I prefer my meat dead rather than still running around the plate. The salads were really good too but I was just not up to eating much and retired to the bus while most people were still eating.

We drove on to a couple of glaciers - nearly 50 kilometres on a pretty awful road, coincidentally the longest road in Greenland. On the way, we saw a few musk ox way off in the distance and we also stopped at the site of a US plane crash. I think it was ten planes flying somewhere expecting to refuel here back in the 1970s, but only seven of them landed in thick fog before it became too dangerous for the other three. They flew circuits hoping for a break in the weather, but all eventually ran out of fuel so the pilots the ejected safely but of course the planes crashed. Everyone wanted to look at what little wreckage remained and it too so long getting them back on the buses that we had to shorten the whole excursion.

We were scheduled to go a bit further to where there were better views of the icecap as well as the glaciers, but our drivers decided that there wasn’t enough time to do that. What we saw was still impressive but not quite what was intended. We had more problems getting people back on the buses because some wandered a long way away quite near to the glacier so we drove straight back to town and the airport. As it happened, we still arrived there almost an hour early, only to find that the flight had been delayed by two more hours. We had to sit around the airport for almost four hours!

Even once we got on our way, we had another stop to refuel somewhere on Baffin Island. I think the charter flight brought about a hundred people from Toronto to join the Northwest Passage voyage so there was not enough fuel to do the return journey with us without us sitting in the plane on the ground for another almost 45 minutes, finally arriving in Toronto at 12.10am and ultimately to our hotel at 2am - and don’t forget the two hour time zone difference that made it a very long 20-hour day! At least, by the time we got to bed, I was feeling much better.

[muzanswaifu]

Hate

Pairing: Sanemi x Reader

Enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, fluff/angst/smut

Warnings: Smut, Risky masturbation, Creampie, Multiple orgasms, Porn with feelings

Five days with Sanemi forces the arranged couple to forget their feuding and give into lust.

Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of the thin yukata bunched around her thighs. The breeze was especially strong today and the flimsy material did little to help fight against it. She really shouldn't be outside at all, but the insistence of that logic by the girl's stern governess led her into the harsh weather. She wasn't going to let that woman tell her what to do, even if it was really really really awful out here. Maybe she should go inside? No! She had a point to prove - and a garden to tend to.

It didn't used to be like this. Lady Chiyo didn't used to be so overbearing on her. (Y/n) was once able to do whatever she wanted, however she wanted, whenever she wanted. If she craved standing outside in the middle of a storm for some inconvenient gardening, she was free to do so. No one would stop and think twice about it. But things change.

"(Y/n)!" She looked up from the dirt between her fingers. It was the governess. "Get inside this instant! Right now! Oh heavens, Master Shinazugawa will be here any moment and here your are with- with- ah! Get inside we must clean you up."

She scoffed. No way. She couldn't care less about the visitor. Or at least that's what she told herself.

She continued to pluck and pull at the weeds that littered the bed of perennials. There was an abundance. There hadn't been much time to do it as of late due to impending events. Impending events that would prevent her from doing it at all very soon. So she had to do it now. Even if the air was ripping at her skin and her fingers dug at the ground to keep her frail body anchored. The fine yukata had begun to ride up her legs as she bent over. She hastily pulled it back down and went back to work. Even if no one was around, she didn't want to risk exposing herself to the cold. Especially when she had forgotten to put on proper undergarments and only bore a scant pair of underwear.

Breathing was starting to get hard now. The garden wasn't nearly finished, but her arms were shaking from exertion. It didn't help that dirt was blowing onto her face and body, making more that just her hands and knees filthy. Damn. Damn it.

"What the hell are you doing out here," invaded a raspy voice. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. She hadn't even noticed someone come over. She slowly looked up to see who had snuck up on her. Oh. Pale hair and violent scars invaded her vision.

He was standing right in front of her - how did she not see him? It was strange that she hadn't felt his presence, likely from the strong winds. But they didn't seem to bother him at all. He was set perfectly in place, even his clothes and hair hardly moved. Well, she had heard he was a wind hashira, but she hadn't taken it so literally. (Y/n) snapped out of this train of thought when he tapped his foot impatiently on the ground. He didn't look very happy. He never did honestly.

"Nothing." She turned away and cowered a bit to the ground. It wasn't out of fear, she just wanted him to go away. She knew he'd be here soon but she'd assumed the maids and guests would keep him entertained. He hadn't made any particular effort to seek her out before. He clicked his tongue at the useless response and pinched the bridge of his nose. She could help the tiny smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth. Annoying him was one of the small pleasures of being tied together. A gasp escaped her lips as Sanemi grabbed the back of her dress, pulling the girl up. He held her in the air a moment, her limbs trying to grab for balance, until he finally let her feet touch the ground. Before she could chastise him, large hands snaked around her waist and pushed her toward the house. She wanted to push back, but both the wind and his strength ensured that she'd lose the battle.

He slid open the genkan and shoved her through before closing it behind the two of them. The room was silent save for her heavy breathing. She whipped back to face him and slapped his hand away from her.

"What's wrong with you?!" Her hair stood up as she raised her voice.

That jerk! He couldn't just throw her around like that. Her teeth bared at him waiting for a response. She was surprised when, instead, he averted his gaze off to the side, a sly smirk on his face. What was he so happy about? She almost snarled when she realized the expression was clearly out of amusement. She looked on at him in confusion so he cleared his throat, hinting at something. She glanced around the room to figure out what the hell he found so humorous, and he nearly laughed at her ignorance.

Knocking interrupted her search. The door began to slide open. "Master Shinazugawa, Lady Shinazugawa, the feast" - (Y/n) yelped as rough fingers dug into her thighs. She felt them dip upwards before dragging back down until they reached her knees, the fabric of her yukata following close behind. The action was too fast for her to even think about stopping it. All the heat in her body seemed to rush to her face. She was angry, livid that he had touched her so inappropriately, but was even more mortified for what caused it - her yukata had ridden up again. No wonder he had been so unusually tickled. - "will be ready very shortly. Please take your places in the dining area." The door was now fully opened and the maid that had spoken was waiting patiently at the door for the two of them to follow. He was the first to go and she shakily followed, still embarrassed from what had happened. Just as she had passed through the door, she was forcefully pulled through another. The door was quickly shut, and she were faced with Lady Chiyo. She was visibly pissed off. "Dear Lord look at you! And you let the master see you like this? How will you survive when your go to live in his estate? Oh you foolish girl!" She began peeling off the girl's dirty dress as she spoke. The woman froze with the sight of the lone cloth poorly covering her private area "And you aren't even wearing proper undergarments! What would your husband think?!?!" (Y/n) groaned. She wanted today to be over as soon as possible. The dinner was... uneventful to say the least. Not many people attended in the first place, just (y/n), her father, Chiyo, Shinazugawa and few nobleman (scholars working with the core). The men mostly talked amongst themselves, occasionally asking the pillar a few questions regarding general politics. He gave them curt, short answers that gave the impression of indifference, and they quickly went back to themselves, afraid to annoy him. She mused to herself that he must not be so educated on such things. The night began to draw to a close. The meal ending along with their discussions. The scholars eventually said their goodbyes and made their way out, bidding the couple a happy marriage. The silence of their absence was deafening. (Y/n)'s chopsticks scraped against her dish to make some noise but the mistress pinched her leg to make her stop. "Ow," was the last sound before it went silent again. (L/n)-san shuffled in his seat before standing up. The only one who didn't shift attention to him was Sanemi who still sat unbothered with his head resting on his hand. "Well - uhm - thank you all for a lovely evening. I suppose it's time for some well needed rest. Master Shinazugawa, it's always a pleasure." He bowed his head toward the slayer before turning to leave. The maids hesitantly began to clean the table, nervously eyeing them all for further instruction. Sanemi sighed before speaking up, "Yeah I guess I'll turn in too." He silently rose and turne toward another passageway. A servant opened the door and waited to lead him to where he'd be staying. She reclined in relief. Finally. "W-wait, my Lord!" The governess cut in. (Y/n) glared at her for preventing his exit. "Perhaps it would be best if you would spend the night with Lady (y/n)." He immediately laughed at the suggestion, his wife's face burning with anger and humiliation. Lady Chiyo fumbled to defend herself. "Surely you must understand, it can be quite difficult for a lady to spend so much time away from her husband. A wife sleeping alone is a most depressing thing... a-and the consecration of marriage truly lies in childr-" "No, no!" (Y/n) slapped her palms to the table before standing up herself. She'd let the woman ramble on for far too long. "I am simply exhausted, anyone else? I can't even think about keeping my eyes open for a minute longer. Soo um... I'll be on my way then!" She retreated to the opposite exit as her still chuckling husband, grabbing for the door herself before a servant could bother. She quickly stepped through it and practically ran to her room, determined to get away from that whole situation. Her body leapt to the futon as soon as she reached it. She hadn't been lying, she was exhausted - But even as she lay there spent, the events of the day swayed her from sleeping. She remembered the way he had picked her up in the garden, the way his hands felt on her waist, the way his hands felt on her thighs... no! She buried her face into her pillow. There was no way she was lusting after that jerk. He treated her like nothing! Less than nothing! If he treated her roughly now she could only imagine how harsh he'd be in bed... no! Don't think about that at all! Ugh, she was hopeless. Chiyo was right unfortunately, it had been rather hard on her without the company of a husband. But she didn't need him, she knew how to tend to her needs just fine. It would've been nice to let someone else take care of her, but that clearly wasn't an option. Especially with how poorly they got along. The dinner was supposed to be a small thank you for those who had planned their marriage - her father being an important financial component to the core and the slayer being a man capable of protecting (l/n)'s daughter - , but tomorrow was the day that she was actually moving to his estate. The journey wasn't going to be very long, but it was long enough that she dreaded the time she would have to spend with him. Though she supposed he wouldn't keep her much company when she moved in as most of his time was consumed with his work. She was glad for it. (Y/n) thought back to the first time she had met her present spouse - her being ignorant of his crude personality. Back then she had been nervous but excited to meet him. He was a powerful Hashira after all! She admired his line of work and the rumors she'd heard of him (and the taut muscles showing through his revealing uniform - he was a hunk).  The meeting would be just be to discuss the details of the union of course, but at least she would get an idea of what she was working with. Or what she was burdened with. He didn't talk to her. At all. She thought maybe he was shy at first, but it looked like he talked to everybody else just fine. Well... he was an asshole to them but at least he interacted with them? Lady Chiyo told her that he was probably just nervous to have a wife and that he needed some encouragement to get to know her, maybe a gift or two. She ended up buying him an assortment of candy and presented it to him beautifully wrapped before another wedding consultation. "Oh uhm h-hey you, I uh made you this - as a gift," she held out the carefully wrapped peace offering, "I don't really know if you like this kind of stuff... but I promise these are the best." She finished with a smile. He raised a brow at her before taking the package and promptly walking away. She was taken aback by his blatant rudeness but quickly followed after him. (Y/n) was pissed, but maybe he just hadn't gotten to appreciate her kindness yet and didn't know how to properly thank someone. She caught up with him, but he continued his brisk pace, forcing her to practically sprint to keep up with him. "Sooo... what do you have planned for today - after the meeting of course?" He curtly responded, "Busy." Her eye twitched. "Busy with what?" She chirped. He rolled his eyes and continued on, ignoring her. She'd had enough. "Why are you like this? Why do you treat me like this?" He paused for a moment. She clenched her fists, waiting for him to enlighten her. Perhaps he had a bad day. Maybe her gift had offended him somehow. Maybe she had offended him somehow. Why? "Because you're annoying." He started walking again. She stood there. Shocked. Disappointed. Furious. But worst of all... she was sad. Tears coated her eyes but she bit them back, not letting a single drop fall. "Well screw you then!" (Y/n) bound past him, making sure to bump into him on her way through. She didn't even look back as she made her way to the house for conference. But she had noticed that he remained motionless if only for a moment after she had cursed him out. He was stunned. People likely didn't talk to him with such disrespect, but she didn't care. Not anymore.. Respect was a two way street. After that she didn't bother trying to appease him anymore. If he thought she was annoying, then she would show him annoying. Every chance she got was spent either ignoring him or arguing with him. It nettled Chiyo, but what could she do? But now she wouldn't be there to complain about it. It was early morning when the girl was woke up. It was time to leave. She met her father and governess at the train stop to bid their goodbyes. It was hard. (L/n)-san was sad to see her go, especially with a man she clearly hated, but at least she would be under the close protection of the core. Lady Chiyo may have been stern but she was the only mother-figure (y/n) had had as her birth mother had died long ago from a demon attack. She was going to miss her even if all she ever did was nag at her. A few hugs and kisses later and she was boarding the train to her new life. As she walked through the cars, she finally spotted her company sitting by his lonesome. She sauntered along the aisle to him and settled on the seat across not even acknowledging his presence. He did the same. It wasn't long before the train began its departure. It was horribly boring sitting in silence, so she took out the book she'd been eating at for a while. Along with gardening, reading hadn't fit in her schedule lately either. The novel probably wasn't very appropriate for this setting, but nobody was really looking so what was the harm? However it certainly didn't help that the part she was at right now was especially racy. She crossed her legs read on. She was so enraptured that she hadn't noticed wandering eyes. "A Claiming Encounter?" The words burned her ears. She was startled but not ill prepared. "I'm surprised you can read," she quipped with her eyes still glued to the pages. He was quiet for a moment after that so she had mistakenly though she had won. Little did she know that he was reveling in thought rather than defeat. "Isn't that, like, smut?" Her heart dropped into her stomach. Oh no. "W-what n-no, ew why would you even ask that?" She hastily shoved the thing back into the folds of her dress. "It was stupid anyway - don't talk to me." She slouched back into her seat, so embarrassed she could die. Shinazugawa snickered to himself but complied. A few hours later and they had arrived at their destination, another station but one that was supposedly closer to his home. They boarded off and he left the platform towards a gravel path through the woods. The opposite of where everyone else was heading. (Y/n) followed after him but not before questioning his motives. "Where are you going?" He didn't answer. "Ahem!" She pestered. He sighed and replied, "This is the closest a damn train is gonna take us. We'll have to walk the rest of the way." Uh-oh she didn't know they'd have to walk that much. Or through the woods at all. "How long will that take?" He actually answered without a fuss this time. "Maybe five days." Fivr days? Five days! Dear gods no. She could hardly keep up with him, and he expected her to walk for five days? Was he even going to let her rest? He heard her breakdown and consoled her. "Relax, we'll make pit-stops for sleep and food and shit, so stop your whining." And with that he pressed on. The first stop was a small but quaint town that mainly consisted of the elderly. (Y/n)'s feet ached and her calves were tight and sore. She sighed in pleasure as she layed on the bed at the inn they were staying at. After a warm bath and an exhausting day she could've passed out right there. But the warmth between her legs was eating away at her. She could've just satisfied herself now, but the person in bed next to her put a dent in that plan. She really wished he'd gotten another room. She tried again to go to sleep, but she was so achy. And she had no clue as to why. She was probably just frustrated because Sanemi was the worst. But if she did touch herself right now, he would have no way of knowing right? He was a slayer, but it's not like he was on high alert right now. She didn't want to risk it. She really didn't want to risk it. But the tension was there, and her body could really use a win right now. She'd have to be quiet and move as little as possible. Her hand shifted under the blanket to lift up her skirt, just enough to reveal her panties. She slowly and quietly pushed the fabric aside to press into her folds, trying to find her clit. Slow, small circles were wound about the sensitive bud. She hid her moans well, but her breathing was still heavy and shaky. Her eyes were fixed on the form across from her to make sure she wasn't caught. Luckily he was laying on his side, facing away from her. She hated the part of her that wished she could see him. When she was finished, her hand retreated to her side again. Sleep finally overtook her with the satisfaction that she hadn't been noticed. Or at least she'd thought. The next day of travel was even worse than the first. She was still battered and sore throughout her whole body, and her guide gave her no break. But he seemed to slow down just a tad bit. If she didn't despise him so much, she might've been grateful. The guy didn't even break a sweat from the exercise. It was actually pretty hot, but she was annoyed that things were going so well for him. After what seemed like an eternity they finally stumbled upon another town, this one more gaudy and large than the last. There were stands and shops everywhere, all clumped together to form one big market. Her body ached, but (y/n) was curious to see what was being sold. As they passed through the alley, she glanced at each stand to see what was held there. Jewelry. Food. Clothing. All things she could get anywhere. She wasn't going to waste money on common goods. It was near the end of the strip when she saw it- a gorgeous koki shamisen with red accents strewn about the base. Her feet immediately carried her over to the prize, her eyes gushing over it. Her father used to take her to festivals where they would play one just like this. It was her favorite sound in the world, and she'd always wanted to learn how to play. And here it was right in front of her. "Like what you see?" The salesman spoke up, leaning on the counter. She ignored his flirty tone and responded, "How much for this one?" The man looked over the young woman in a suggestive manner, raising an eyebrow when he met her eyes again. "For a pretty lady like you, I'm sure we can work something out." She visibly cringed in disgust. Before she could retort back to the bastard, she was pushed to the side by a scurry of white. "Well it's not everyday I get to beat the shit out of an idiot like you," chimed Shinazugawa. His hand gripped at the handle of his katana. The man cowered behind his stand and stuck his hands out. "Woah woah sorry pal I didn't know she was with you!" (Y/n) rolled her eyes at her husband's overly excessive bravado but figured she could use this to her advantage. She pried her way back in front of the slayer and picked the shamisen back up. A large handful of money was set upon the table. "Is this enough?" The salesman hardly looked down to check but answered, "S-sure." She gleamed. "Perfect!" She tucked the instrument under her arm and retreated, tugging at Shinazugawa's haori to follow. He begrudgingly left with her. She could feel his anger behind her as they walked, but she was sure he'd cool off in time. They made their way into the Ryokan and she went up to the host. "Two rooms please." The third day was still hard but at least she was far less tense. Since she had gotten a separate room, she was able to satisfy herself far better last night. But she was embarrassed to admit that the memory of him standing up for her was what had gotten her so tense. As they ambled along the path she picked at the strings of her instument, testing the pitches and sounds. It wasn't long before Sanemi got annoyed. "Do you even know how to play the damn thing?" He growled. She smirked while continuing to pluck the threads. "Well, no but I could always learn." She brushed through all of them at once. He groaned loudly. "If you don't stop I'm gonna break it in half," he warned. She laughed at the threat. "Try it. I'll set your house on fire." Now it was his turn to laugh. He held back for her to catch up to him, with which he snatched the instrument from her paws. He easily tore it from her hands. She yelped, "Hey! Give it back!" He tutted at he and held it an arms reach away from her while pushing her little body away from him. He gave her one more push before walking on, keeping the loud tool at his side. She grumbled petty insults at him. That he was a bully. That he was stupid. That he was the worst. But as she babbled on, the barbs became more personal. She knew it was stupid. She was getting all overworked over something small. It was childish... but she wanted so so desperately to get it off her chest. She brought up the fact that he was disrespectful to her. That he never dedicated anytime to to her. That he never responded to any of her letters. The letters had stopped after their interaction the day he had insulted her, but she would've ceased them anyway. "But I guess it's better now right? I'm glad you cleared things up with a while back because now I don't have to waste my time trying to get you to like me." The silence after her words pecked at her stomach. Her face was still red from anger and embarrassment, and she felt immature for going off on him. After a couple minutes of noiseless walking he finally spoke up. "I can't write." The sudden vocalization startled her. "Huh?" She collected her thoughts before further questioning him, "but you said you could read-" "I can read. I can't write. I don't know how to write." She scratched at her palms awkwardly. So that's why he never responded? Even if that was the case, it didn't explain why he was so mean to her in person. But he clearly wasn't up for more talking so she didn't press him. There was no village necessarily but there was a wisteria house along the way. They didn't have to specify two rooms as they were naturally already separated into the respective male and female dorms. She didn't touch herself that night. There was too much on her mind and she was still upset from her argument earlier with Shinazugawa. After a few hours, exhaustion finally overtook her. Day four, the last day they would have to find somewhere to sleep and eat before they reached the mansion. Unlike their usually speechless or argumentative journeys, they actually conversed peacefully this time. It wasn't about anything important really, just small talk. It began with her chipping in that she wanted to mess with her shamisem again, to which he said that it would alert every demon in the area. She then mocked that his scars and big scary muscles would scare them away, making him chuckle. She blushed as she hadn't really meant it to sound like a compliment but it was obviously taken as such. Her mention of his cuts did enhance her curiosity though. "How did you get all those scars?" He played along with her game of mockery. "Some murderous demons gave 'em to me. But, luckily, they only got a few licks in before I killed 'em with my big scary muscles." She laughed. She didn't know he had that kind of humor in him. The rest of their talk was similar. She would ask him pointless questions like what was the scariest demon he went up against, what were the other hashira like, why did he keep his uniform opened up? He would give sarcastic but truthful answers like demon with ten heads, annoying but some are alright, because his body is worth showing. It was actually enjoyable talking to him. He still had a roughness to him, but she kinda liked it. It was entertaining but attractive at the same time. Eventually they reached the towns hotel. Except... it was... and interesting place to say the least. There was an obvious theme to it... it was a couple's tavern. She glared at him when they come to it and he shrugged his shoulders. "This is the only one. Sleep outside if you want." She groaned dramatically and went inside. The inside was worse than the outside. Dim candlelight and maroon decoration littered the place. The faint smell of wine and sex in the air. (Y/n) hissed through her teeth and went up to the hostess for the rooms. "We only room couples here, not individuals." She rolled her eyes and leaned further into the counter, closer to the woman. "It makes no difference. It's the same money," she argued. The lady apologized and explained that they couldn't waste two spaces on what could be one, and that more couples would come throughout the night in need of shelter. She also clarified that there was only one king sized bed that would have to be shared. (Y/n) hesitated but Shinazuagwa cut in, "Fine we'll take it." She could hardly breathe in the spacious bed. A body pillow lay in the center of it to separate the two (she had told him to NEVER cross it, not even if their lives were on the line). The scent of his damp hair from his bath flooded her senses and made her stomach churn with warmth. No no. Not tonight. Dear God he smelled like the woods, fresh and earthy. She clawed at her stomach and pressed her thighs together. But the more she put it off, the worse it became. She couldn't remember the last time it was this bad. No wait she did. It was after their wedding, although it was more of a documentation of their matrimony. They needed to have a honeymoon. They had gotten in another argument that night, she could even remember the reason. But she did recall lying next to him facing the opposite direction curled into herself. He was already asleep. They were supposed to try to conceive that night. Try to get started on a family. However, they already had their unspoken deal to ignore one another. But regardless of all the ire she held for him, she could help but wish that he would at least touch her, if not love her. She probably just wanted hate sex. But she also internally hoped that through this he would show some decency. And here they were again. She hadn't touched herself then, but could she now? It had been almost a year since they were wed. Would it be so wrong to ask for it now? Something about the heat radiating from his body and his musk made her so desperate. No. She wouldn't ask of this. They may have gotten along today, but that was just one day. One day wouldn't get him to like her. She tried to keep her breathing steady and quiet. Her eyes were nearly shut due to the sensitivity and heat traveling up to her face. Her legs shifted ever so slightly to spread, but not so much to be obvious. As carefully as possible, she moved her hand down her kimono softly pry open to folds on her lower half. She checked to see if he was still out. He was. Good. Her hand snuck under the cotton fabric of her underwear to her bundle of nerves, but only sat there for a moment. She couldn't be too hasty in her actions if she were to succeed. After checking on him again, she started to move - slowly. She attempted to keep her movements to a minimum. The pleasure running up her spine making her want to shake but she forced herself to keep still. The worry of being caught fled to the back of her mind as the warmth built in her core. She knew her legs were shaking now but surely he was asleep by now and couldn't know. His breathing was even and nearly silent. Her own breath came out in soft huffs, her body still in the throes of ecstacy. Worries no longer concerned her as she neared her finish. She was almost there. Just a bit more. She sped up her movements. A moan caught in the back of her throat. Her heels dug into the bed. Her nails scratched at the bed. And - "You're not very good at keeping quiet, huh?" She stopped. Her ears were still fogged from her activities, maybe she was imagining things. She hoped she was imagining things. If she wasn't she'd kill herself. "Hey" A large hand placed itself over her arm. It was real... she was going to kill herself. She tried to crawl away off the bed but the hand held her down to the mattress. The corner of her eye caught him propping up on an elbow to look down at her. She refused to acknowledge him. He let out a single laugh before ripping her arms towards him, her body going with it. As he pulled her toward him and over the barrier pillow he wrapped his hand around her hip and settled her in his lap, now sitting. Her hand was now away from her underwear, but the folds of her dress were still pressed open, revealing her lower half. Her face was flushed red. Tears hung at the corners of her eyes. Her clothed center was now flush with his. She could feel the bulge in his pants and it went straight to her stomach, a warm anticipation. She gasped when she felt him play with the opening of her kimono. He observed, " I guess I've been a shitty husband in more ways the one." His eyes flickered up to her for a response. She turned away, her face still boiling. "Y-yes." She could tell he was smirking. His fingers pressed against her skin as he pushed open the folds of cloth more. "Well, I'm gonna make it up to you." And with that he flipped them over to pin her underneath him. Before she could resist he tore open the rest of her dress. Her breasts fully exposed now as she hadn't worn any wrappings to bed but her panties still remained to cover her. She should tell him no. She should tell him to stop. She should tell him she didn't want this. But she did. She wanted this so desperately. She needed this. He hooked a finger around the band and tore then down her legs and to the floor. He looked down back into her eyes. "Don't keep quiet. I wanna hear all of it." She lightly nodded her head and he continued. God if she weren't so antsy she would tease him. But she worried if she annoyed him too much he would stop, and that was the last thing she wanted. His hands trailed to her hips and he lifted them up to peek at her folds. He licked his bottom lip before dropping his thumb to push through them, looking for her clit. He circled over it firmly making her sigh. She was already thoroughly wet, but he knew he had interrupted her before she could finish. Her legs shook around him as he touched her so perfectly, her mewls filling the room. It didn't take too long for her to reach her climax. In fact it was rather quick as the thrill of having him on her made it premature. Her head dug into the bed as she climaxed. He didn't fail to notice the whisper of his name on her tongue as she came. His hand maintained its motions on her sensitive cunt even as she came down from her high, so she tried to squirm away from it. The overstimulation making her tremble. "Ah, no more nnn - too much," she cried out. He clicked his tongue and pulled his hand away. She layed back onto the bed, her back having arched during her treatment. She felt him pulled away off the bed but didn't look as she focused on catching her breath. The sound of fabric could be heard as he removed the clothing from his body. She didn't watch him, but her heart pounded in her chest and her sex. However she couldn't help but feel a bit unsure. He got on the bed and crawled over her, spreading her legs as he settled himself between them. She prevented him from coming closer by bringing her knees in and pushing them together. "No, no, you can't... you can't." Her guilt outweighed the need between her legs. He tilted his head and questioned why. She buried her face in the pillows as much as she could trying to hide before answering, "Because- because you hate me." He pushed her knees apart and layed over her body to sink his face into her neck. "I don't hate you." He kissed at her throat. "You just annoy me all the time... but that's my own fault for not treating you right. I'll treat you now." He sucked tenderly at the flesh of her neck, leaving countless markings. She finally surrendered and wrapped her arms and legs around him. She moaned softly as he marked her up. She could feel his erection poking her front and got a surge of confidence, lifting her pussy up to rub against it. He took the hint and lifted his lips away from her to reposition himself at her entrance. Her hands traveled down his arms as he moved, running down the scars. She gazed down to look between her legs at where his cock stood. She drooled at the look of it, throbbing and large. The stretch would definitely hurt but the pleasure of being filled would be worth it. Her hands grabbed at the sheets while his gripped her hips to keep her still. He rubbed the tip along her entrance to gather slick before pushing in. Her nails tore into the sheets and she cringed in pain. Even with the lubrication, it felt like he was tearing into her. He stopped for a moment to make sure she was okay. His brow furrowed as she kept clenching around him. "Stop, ah, tightening like that. It's gonna hurt more if you don't relax." She bit back her tears and nodded for him to continue. She tried to stay as slackened as possible, even as he molded her insides to the shape of him. Once she had taken in a decent amount he gave her another moment to breathe. He needed a moment himself to appreciate her warmth and tightness that engulfed him so nicely. (Y/n) wiggled her hips to test out the feeling of him. Her insides still felt battered but the stretching was amazing. Like scratching an itch that she couldn't reach herself. And his cock was so warm inside her, heating up her whole body. If one was freezing to death, this was surely the cure. Once she felt comfortable she wrapped her legs around him and softly mumbled to continue. Leaning down to brace himself above her, he slipped out only to thrust back in. A surprised moan escaped her lips. She didn't expect it to feel so good! He repeated his motions, eventually picking up the pace when she gave no reason not to. As he pistoned into her soaked heat, he too let out please growls. "Fuuuuck, I needed this. Your constant whining, your skirt riding up your thighs, that damn porn you were reading. Heh, I even heard you screwing yourself the other night. All you've been doing this whole goddamn trip was edge me on." He pounded into her harshly at the last word, making her yelp. She shook her head and clawed at his back. "That's - ah - not ~ ha ~ true!" She really didn't mean to tease him, truly. She was too starstruck to feel embarrassed about those humiliating occurrences. He grabbed her chin and turned her head to get access to her neck. He bit at it while taking a plump breast into his hand. He snarled into her skin, "Yah it is. Nobody's that stupid." He licked at one of the bites that had drawn blood. "I'll admit, I thought you were just trying to get pregnant. I had no idea that - fuck, ah- that you were just horny." At this point she didn't care if it was true anymore. His hand descended from her breast and went to tease her clit again. She was whimpering now, her sex on the verge of overstimulation. She clung to him desperately, so close to climax. The wet noises of him bottoming out inside of her made her head feel fuzzy. With one more thrust she was sent over, trembling violently in his hold. Her cunt tightly fluttered around him, and he stopped to bask in the pleasure of it. Her ears rung as the whiteness faded out of her vision. He  brushed away the string of saliva that had dripped down her chin and looked down at her. "How's that?" A devilish smirk on his face. She barely heard the question but responded with a fucked out "~goood~" He snickered and settled over her again, divulging "We're not done yet." He resumed thrusting in her. Tears ran down her face from the sensitivity and she begged him to be more gentle. He ignored her pleas and hammered on. She could feel her pleasure building up again, but assumed she wouldn't reach it in time as she felt him grow close to his. She could feel him twitch and throb inside of her, his movement becoming shorter and quicker as well. He moved on to grip her hips hard enough to bruise and sheathed himself inside of her. She would've went to touch and sooth him if she weren't being overwhelmed at the moment. Unlike his previous pulsing, now it felt more like a pump. Like his cock was pumping into her. It dramatically surged her closer to release, fearfully so as she now felt she was going to pee. The moment the blistering warmth piled into her she was gone. She nearly passed out, the heat consuming her so completely. The feeling in her core was so soothing and hot it made her go limp. Every muscle in her went lax. Including those in her cunt. Liquid drenched Sanemi's pelvis, but he payed it no mind as she milked him. Once he was emptied, he layed back down  on her for a moment. She regained consciousness and whimpered a weak apology for squirting on him, "I'm sorry - sorry" He smiled against her forehead and kissed it. Even though she could barely keep her eyes open, she could feel butterflies flutter in her stomach and heat rise to her cheeks. She slid her hand up to his face and pulled him down to meet her lips. Despite their previously lewd embrace, the kiss was innocent and pure. It was filled with softness yet passion. Shinazugawa was a proud, matured man, but even a light blush fell upon him. He flipped them on their sides so he wouldn't crush her. He took care to gently slip out if her and clean them off before they drifted to sleep. She smiled with the warmth against her back and the strong arms wrapped around her. Maybe he didn't hate her after all. The rest of the journey was well enjoyed. She woke up exhausted, so much so that she begged him to carry her the rest of the way. He at first denied and told her to suck it up until she reminded him that it was his fault she was sore in the first place. He eventually let up. He didn't regret the decision though as he took several stops during the walk to fuck her against a tree or two. She called him an animal but moaned nonetheless. Once they had reached the mansion, the few caretakers nearly screamed at the sight of her appearance and had thought a wolf attacked her. She was too tired to digress (not that she would've) and collapsed on his bed. He patted her head and told her he would be gone for a bit on a mission, but to get plenty of sleep for when he got back. She hummed to let him know she heard and let sleep consume her yet again. She couldn't wait.

#demon slayer #shinazugawa sanemi #demon slayer smut #sanemi smut #sanemi shinazugawa smut #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi x reader #Kimetsu no Yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba smut #enemies to lovers #arranged marriage #smut

[1kook]

crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast. 

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.  

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office. 

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5. 

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses. 

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful. 

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.” 

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.” 

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.” 

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking. 

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever. 

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours. 

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together. 

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.) 

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be. 

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you. 

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber. 

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend. 

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary. 

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days. 

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.  

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.) 

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like. 

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites. 

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?” 

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.” 

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind. 

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into. 

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway. 

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin. 

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear. 

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass. 

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you. 

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak. 

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead. 

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat. 

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts. 

They go like this: 

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really. 

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively. 

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once. 

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you. 

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome. 

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve. 

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek. 

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts. 

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.” 

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles. 

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild. 

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums. 

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again. 

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning. 

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.” 

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment. 

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“ 

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him. 

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned. 

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.” 

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.” 

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.” 

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.” 

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“— 

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear. 

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer. 

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole. 

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips. 

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise. 

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath. 

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. 

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue. 

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger.  “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…” 

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?” 

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles. 

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over. 

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more. 

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them. 

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub. 

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face. 

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention. 

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock. 

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand. 

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane. 

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh. 

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be. 

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds. 

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter. 

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic. 

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock. 

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you. 

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip. 

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl. 

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully. 

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin. 

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said. 

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away. 

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself. 

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you. 

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once. 

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth. 

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets. 

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever. 

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries. 

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you. 

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question. 

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest. 

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

#networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #Jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts fic #bts smut #mine

[a-mended-pact]

Let the Right One In

A/N: So this is for @boldlyvoid 's challenge. I had so much fun writing this. Even though I'm still super anxious about posting my stories. It's been a pleasure and an honor getting to know you Em. Congratulations on reaching 2k! 🖤

Warning: Mentions of insecurities. Maeve Donovan. Faking a death.

Word count: 2,082

It was midday when I heard knocking on the front door. I was half tempted not to answer. Spencer was away on a case and neither him nor I were expecting anyone. Anyone that would come over at all was away on the case with him or states over. So who could be coming over unannounced? I clumsily headed towards the door. My fuzzy socks are making it difficult to stay balanced on the hardwood floor. A knock came again. It was gentler this time. 

I looked through the peephole and saw a small woman looking around nervously leaning from foot to foot. “Who is it?” I wondered if I could at least get a name. 

“I’m here to see Doctor Spencer Reid. I got his address from Aaron Hotchner.”

  My face blanched at the sound of Hotch’s name. It had been quite some time since anyone had mentioned him. After he went into protective custody with Jack even though the reaper was dead he still chose to stay away. Contact with him was rare and slim. I quickly opened the door and watched her jump back slightly. 

“Who are you?” she asked. She looked around the same age as him. She is actually quite beautiful. I wonder how Spencer knows her? 

“ I’m Y/n Reid.” She tilted her head to the side as she studied me.

 “I didn’t realize Spencer had a sister.” She finally met my gaze and smiled.

 “Is he here or do I need to come back at another time?” A small laugh escaped me 

“No, I am not his sister. I am his wife.” I crossed my arms over my chest and locked my foot in place behind the door keeping it only slightly ajar not letting her see into our home. 

Her face shifted to one of slight surprise. “Oh well I better just go then.” She went to turn away. When a thought crossed my mind.

 “Wait, I can call him if you’d like and let him know you are looking for him. What’s your name?” I was wondering whether this was a good idea or not to even call him but i had already offered and i am already in far too deep to turn back now. 

She stopped not turning to face me again. “My name is Maeve. Maeve Donovan.” 

Maeve. Why did I know that name? Why is my brain going off with alarm bells? But why do I know that name? I watched as she vanished from the hallway down the flight of stairs never turning back around to look at me. 

I slammed the door shut as I racked my brain on if I should mention this to Spencer at all. Especially while he is away on a case. Maybe I should wait until he gets home. He should be home later tonight. At least if the weather was alright over in New Hampshire. He had left me a message earlier this morning to let me know the case was solved and it had started snowing there but their flight wouldn’t be ready till a little later. 

He should be home in about an hour now. I will wait. I’ll definitely wait.

 

~

When Spencer walked through the door he looked sluggish and about ready to just collapse. The exhaustion clearly got to him from not getting enough sleep while he was away. He took off his satchel and his suit jacket. He began undoing his tie as he walked his way into our bedroom. Not even making eye contact with me. 

He came back out moments later in nothing but his flannel sweatpants. “Sorry I know I should have said hello to you. I just felt like I was suffocating in my clothes today.” As he spoke he made his way to the couch where I sat at one end.

 Once he sat down he leaned down and put his head in my lap. I gently started running my fingers through his hair while scratching his head. 

“That feels really nice.” His voice was soft and he let out a quiet sigh as he relaxed into the couch and my lap.

 If I wasn’t petting his head I was gently caressing his back with my fingertips. I know I needed to tell him. I was just so nervous. I knew somewhere deep down this would be stressful to him. The day already has worn him out so completely. It was like he needed my touch to recharge himself. I began biting my lip as my hand stopped on his lower back. 

“Hey, Spence, A woman came by to see you today. She said she got your address from Aaron.” He made a humming noise to let me know that he heard me. “Her name was Maeve Donovan.” I felt his back muscles tense at the sound of her name. He sat up immediately. 

“Wh- what did you say?” He looked at me as if I had just grown an extra head or as if I had just spoken another language.  “Mae-” He cut me off. “No, I heard what you said. I don’t need you to repeat yourself. It’s not possible she was at the door. She is dead. She’s been dead for years.” 

He pushed himself up off the couch, the muscles in his arms flexing more than usual. He was more tense than I have seen him in a long time. The last time I saw him this upset or stressed was when he first came back from prison. We were just dating back then.

“I am going to go call Hotch.” he moved quickly to grab his phone when he finally reached it. It began to ring. He looked at it for a couple of seconds before he answered.

“Hello?” His eyes widened slightly. I watched as he clenched his jaw and tears brimmed his eyes. 

“M-m-maeve?” He leaned himself back against the wall. His breathing became irregular as he slid himself down the cold panel. At the same time I saw a couple of tears leave his eyes.

I sucked in a breath and sighed. Was this going to be the end of us? Now that all the stories Spencer told me of her came back once he said that she was dead.

She was his first love after all. It would only make sense right?

====Spencer’s Pov=====

My vision was blurred beyond recognition. I could hear my blood pumping in my ears as the sound of her voice drifted in and out. This isn’t real. It’s not possible. I watched her die. I saw her. She was pronounced dead at the scene. I mourned her. It’s been years. Nearly a decade.

“Spencer? Can you hear me?” I felt my tears stream down my face, nodding as if she could see me. 

“Yeah, Yeah I can hear you.” My voice cracked as I answered her. 

“Just like old times huh? It’s so nice to hear your voice. I’ve missed you.” My breath hitched at her words. 

I felt my heart hammer in my chest. I glanced up to see if I could find my wife. She was watching me with concern but otherwise she hadn’t moved not yet. All the guards Y/n had torn down throughout the years started building themselves up higher and higher. 

"H-how are you alive? I watched you die." The horrible memories of that fatal day still haunted me. What am I supposed to do now?

Do I still have feelings for her? Is it wrong if I do? I don't know how to handle this. What should I do?

"That's why I came to see you earlier.  It was an idea that I came up with at the last minute.  So I faked my death." Her voice was calmer than my breathing.  I felt the walls Barricading around me to keep me safe. I was suffocating.

I wasn't sure I had heard her right. I could feel my ears ringing as the blood in me ran cold.

"You faked your death and made me believe for a decade that the first person I ever loved died a brutal death because you wanted a new life?" My tone was harsher than I anticipated.

I felt my wife's hands run through my hair in a comforting manner as she lowered herself to the floor with me.

I glanced at Y/n as tears streamed down my face. The memories of Maeve and my feelings for her wreaking havoc on my heart.

"Darling, I think you should hang up. For now anyway." She whispered it as her hand lowered to the back of my neck giving me a gentle message. 

My back stiffened. I was so caught up in my own nightmare I hadn't realized that this is probably a living one for her.

"Spencer. I can expla-" I cut off the call before she could even finish her sentence.  Y/n was right.

"You have a lot you need to process and I'm sure you didn't want to say anything you would regret. I'm sorry if I've overstepped." She looked a little nervous as if I was gonna snap at her the way I had Maeve 

I gently grabbed the hand that was touching me and brought it up to my lips placing a kiss on it.

"Nonsense. You are my wife. You were right. I should have hung up. I just. I don't know how to explain what I was feeling." I could feel my breathing begin to slow slightly as I tried to match her breathing to get mine back to normal.

It was like my world paused for a moment and began to spiral faster than I could catch my balance. I felt air fill my lungs when I heard her voice but yet I was left gasping for oxygen. 

The very thought of Maeve brought back so many things I thought I had dealt with prior to now.  I leaned my head against my wife's shoulder as I just let the tears fall.

I felt awful having her comfort me over another woman. Yet I couldn't bring myself to completely care. She was the one offering me comfort.  

She held me in her arms. Whispering to me that things will be okay. That we'd figure things out.

I truly didn't deserve her. She loves me so unconditionally it's unnerving. That's when my phone went off again.

It was the same number Maeve had called me from.

I glanced at my wife. Who just watched me. That's when I fully knew and decided something that had been bothering me for over the past hour or so.

I let my phone continue to ring as I cupped her face. 

"You...you make me feel special and good and all these things that I still don't have the words for yet— good things… things I never thought I deserved to feel.” I pulled her in closer letting our lips caress one another.

"I love you Spencer.  You don't need to say all of this right now. I know you are still-" She tilted her head to the side as if she were trying to figure me out.  "Cluttered and that's okay."

I kissed her harder than I've ever kissed anyone before.

"I’m not in love with her, I’m in love with you”

I have no real idea on if she needed this reassurance all I knew is that I did. I wanted her to know out loud what she meant to me. I couldn't imagine a better partner. A better lover or a better best friend than her.

 I wasn't going to have her doubt everything about us. Not for anything.

I stayed close to her as my phone kept repeatedly going off until eventually it stopped. I was still figuring things out. 

Knowing that Maeve was alive before I met Y/n would have changed my life completely but now? I didn't want anything to change.  For once I was happy. I had someone in my life who put me first. Who cared about me. Who wasn't afraid to hurt my feelings as long as it kept me safe. She loved me for me and all the mess in between who I have yet to become.

She saw me for me. I wasn't Doctor Spencer Reid.  I wasn't a federal agent or a professor to her. I was just Spencer.  The man for some ungodly reason she chose to love. 

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