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anonymousfiction211 · 3 years

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Handcuffed together: 8 The party

The party

Today was the day that Steve finally woke up. When you heard the news your ran to the medbay, you had to see for yourself. Steve smiled brightly when he saw you and you engulfed him in a big hug. He grunted, still in pain and you loosened your grip.

‘Sorry’ you apologised. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Like I have a hang-over, something I haven’t had in a very long time’ he smiled to himself. ‘I will be ok, (Y/N)’ he said. ‘Thanks for saving me’

‘Ehm.. actually, Loki did most of the work’ you admitted.

Steve frowned ‘Loki can do that?’

‘Yep, he’s teaching me currently’ you said.

Steve just laughed. ‘What’s so funny?’ you asked a bit wary.

‘To think a few weeks back we had to handcuff the two of you together, and now you are constantly with each other and he is even teaching you. It’s funny’ he said. ‘Are you sure there is nothing more to it?’

You hoped your face didn’t look as red as you think it looked. ‘Yes, just friends’ you replied a bit nervously.

‘I heard something else from Natasha’ he said.

‘What did you hear from her?’ you asked.

‘Apparently, Loki was quite cross with his brother the last mission. Hate to have missed that, I never knew Loki could be boyfriend material’ he answered.

Right before you could reply, the devil himself walked in. ‘Captain’ he nodded curtly.

‘Loki’ Steve said back as curtly as Loki.

‘How are you?’ Loki asked.

‘Great, thanks for helping me’ he said.

You saw for a quick second the surprise on Loki’s face. He wasn’t used to being thanked.

‘You’re welcome’ he replied hesitantly. Then he turned his attention to you. ‘You’re late’ he said.

‘Well, Steve was waking up. So, I think that is a good excuse’ you replied.

Before Loki could reply, Steve intervened. ‘Oh, don’t let me keep her from you. Go, (Y/N). I will see you tonight, Tony is already planning a big party’ he said while rolling his eyes. Loki looked very pleased, you rolled your eyes but followed the God to the training room.

Later that night

To say that Tony was throwing a big party, was quite the understatement. There were more people in the tower than you ever saw. The music was barely audible over the loud conversations, and alcohol was flowing freely. You had a blast, partying, and dancing with the rest of the team. Even Loki seemed to have a good time, mostly talking to people. He did scare a few of them, but that was to be expected from the God of Mischief. Halfway through the night, the party finally seemed to come to an end. Most of the team was sitting on the couch. Bruce went to bead early and Clint didn’t attend the party. You and Tony were quite intoxicated. You noticed Loki watching you like a hawk. You actually wanted to sit on his lap, but you didn’t know if you were ready for everyone to know. Whatever you could call what you and he were doing. Even tough, most of the team knew that something was up already, thanks to Loki.

The sound of the alarm and the red warning lights had everybody on high alert in an instance.

‘J.A.R.V.I.S., what is going on?’ Tony yelled to the AI.

‘There are some unknown individuals down in the lab, sire’ the AI replied.

‘Shit, that can’t be good. Right, ehm.. everyone who can still function properly, split up. We will cover every entrance to the lab and trap them there’ Tony yelled.

Even tough Tony gave the command, he was clearly to drunk to actually put on his suit. The only people who were capable were Thor, Loki, Steve, and Natasha. Steve had ordered the rest to stay put and the four of them went downstairs to the lab. So, you were left on the couch with Tony. The alarm didn’t stop and you heard explosions. After a while, the doors of the room you were sitting in burst open. Loki was quickly advancing at you, and you immediately noticed that something was off. Before you could react he grabbed you by the throat and lifted you into the air. You panicked, you couldn’t breathe anymore and no matter how much you struggled against his grip, he was too strong for you.

It took a moment for Tony to react. He sprinted towards Loki, in an attempt to tackle him. But Loki just slapped Tony out of the way and he went flying across the room. You tried to plead but didn’t have a voice anymore. Thor finally burst through the doors and flew at Loki. You fell down on the ground hard but didn’t care. You were gasping for air and tried to stay conscious. Natasha was by your side in a second and Steve went to help Thor.

‘Are you okay?’ Natasha asked

‘Y- yeah, but what?’ you barely could make audible.

Before she could answer you saw Loki in your eyeline again. He advanced towards you. You saw Steve and Thor both on the ground grunting. Natasha stood up, putting her body between you and Loki, but he pushed her away hard. The only thing you could do, was cower in fear. Suddenly Thor’s hammer slammed into Loki’s head and he fell down. To your relief he was unconscious. It took a moment for the whole team to get up and walk towards you and Loki. Thor extended his hand and helped you to your feet. He pulled you close and you hold onto him for dear life. You couldn’t help but starting to cry.

‘It’s okay. When he wakes up he will be normal again’ Thor whispered while stroking your hair.

‘WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?’ Tony yelled to Thor.

‘We don’t exactly know. But they got to him, it wasn’t his fault’ Steve said quickly.

‘What do you mean they got to him?’ Tony wanted to know.

‘I don’t exactly know. But when we split up, Loki found the creatures first. They talked to him, there was some weird energy surrounding him. Then he stormed of to here and the creatures just disappeared’ Thor explained. You could feel his voice vibrating through his body.

‘Did you recognize them or heard anything?’ Steve asked.

Thor just shook his head. Everybody’s attention switched when Loki started to groan and grab his head. He slowly sat up right, while everybody watched him intently. He blinked a few time and scanned his surroundings. He looked a bit disoriented. Suddenly, he looked at you with horror. You looked away and tightened your grip on Thor, to your relief he did the same.

‘I think you have some explaining to do’ Natasha said.

‘You’re not going to attack again?’ Tony asked.

‘No’ Loki replied, you could tell he was struggling. ‘I- I’m so sorry. I don’t know where to start’ he said. ‘I need to leave’

He quickly got to his feet, but swayed a little. Getting hit in the head with Mjölnir had his effect on him. Thor grabbed your arms and guided you towards Steve. You put your arms around him and Steve let you. Thor walked towards Loki. ‘You’re not leaving, sit down’ he sat strictly. He pushed Loki backwards and he fell onto the couch.

‘I need to leave’ Loki said desperately. He got up right, but Thor pushed him back down. You could tell he was exhausted and didn’t have much strength at the moment.

‘Tell us what happened if you need to leave afterwards you can’ Natasha said.

‘That’s a lie’ Loki replied.

It was silent for a long time. Everybody was looking at Loki, wating for him to speak. Loki was visibly struggling to find the words, that was rare. ‘Alright. It’s quite a long story’ he said.

‘We have all the time we need’ Tony replied.

‘You actually don’t, but anyway.. there is someone out there who is collecting all the infinity stones. And his minions were looking for the sceptre’ he said.

When he didn’t continue Thor asked ‘Who?’

‘He is named Thanos’ Loki replied.

‘What happened down there between you and them?’ Natasha asked.

Loki gritted his teeth. ‘They.. they put me in a trance’ he said.

‘Why did you attack, (Y/N)?’ she went on.

‘It’s complicated’ he replied.

‘Try me’ she quipped back.

Loki looked away, ashamed. ‘My first intention wasn’t to come here and play the hero’ he said.

‘I KNEW IT!’ Tony exclaimed! ‘I knew we shouldn’t trust you’

‘Shut up, Stark’ Thor boomed. ‘Loki?’ he asked.

‘Look, I convinced Odin to let me come here to ‘redeem’ myself for my actions. I was planning on escaping and starting over elsewhere… but Thanos contacted me and gave me another chance. So, I was stuck here’ he explained.

‘Another chance? At what?’ Natasha asked.

‘Collecting the mindstone, after that the Tesseract from Asgard’ he said.

‘I’m not buying it. How could they manipulate you so easily?’ Tony asked sceptically.

‘Once you’ve been under mindcontrol for a while, it’s easier to control the same person again’ Loki said.

‘When were YOU under mindcontrol?’ Tony snorted.

‘New York’ Loki said, still gritting his teeth.

‘Bullshit, we won’ Tony said.

‘I intentionally lost, there is a difference’ Loki said angrily.

‘Alright, why do you need to leave then?’ Natasha asked. ‘And don’t you dare lie to us’ she added.

‘To speak the truth, my first intention was to grab the stones and kill you in the process. Thor would grief too much to notice the attack on Asgard and after that I would be free’ he said, still not being able to look at the team. After a pause he continued. ‘But.. I didn’t expect.. I mean, I hadn’t planned on. You know, not wanting to kill you all.. so, I thought my best chance was to help you and if Thanos came defeat him’ he said.

‘We will circle back to the killing us part, but the latter sounds like reasonable? What changed?’ Natasha inquired further.

‘I’m okay with Thanos killing me. But today they told me they wouldn’t. They would use me to kill her and then keep me alive until I die naturally, should I fail’ he said while fumbling his hands.

You just stared in shock at Loki, but he wouldn’t meet anyone’s gaze. ‘So, I need to leave’ he said then. Everyone stayed silent.

‘No’ you whispered, breaking the silence. You felt everyone’s eyes on you but couldn’t care less. The only eyes you stared into were Loki’s. A mix of horror, pain, hurt, hope and love danced over his face. He was trying hard to hold back tears, it shocked you to see the always so dominant and in control man reduced to this. You slowly walked towards him and to your surprise he backed away on the couch.

‘Don’t’ he whispered, his voice croaking a little.

You ignored him. You sat beside him on the couch and put your arms around him. He didn’t react for a minute. But then he put his arms around you, pulled you close and hang onto you for dear life.

The moment was ruined when Steve started to speak ‘All right, ehm. This is a lot. And still a bit vague. Maybe, we should go to bed and Loki, tomorrow you tell us everything. Every detail, only the truth. After that we will come up with a plan’

Loki let go of you and looked at Steve ‘The truth is, it would be easier for me to leave. That would fix all your problems’ he said.

‘You’re part of the team, and we look out for each other. So, the answer is no. And if you even think about leaving I will personally track you down and put you behind bars again, just to keep you here’ Natasha replied.

Loki cocked an eyebrow, surprised by this reaction. Most of the team just nodded, Tony however looked at the ground. ‘When you decided not to kill us anymore, your highness’ Natasha answered his silent question when he kept looking at her. Adding a bit of humour to lighten the mood.

Tags: @delightfulheartdream @the-best-phineas @theaudacitytowrite @l0nelyasian @ragweed98

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki of asgard #loki marvel #loki mcu #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x ofc #loki x original female character #marvel x reader #marvel x you #mcu x reader #mcu x you #loki god of mischief #loki god of lies

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johobi · 4 years

Text

A Lycan Dignity

Word count: 4k

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: rough, penetrative werewolf sex, pregnancy sex, blood consumption, biting, knotting, squirting, very strong dom/sub dynamic, extremely graphic sexual description lol, impreg kink, baby bump worship, masturbation, giant COCK, i mean huge, tiny amount of angst

A/N: This was commissioned by the wonderful @divine-bangtan in exchange for a Black Lives Matter donation! I really hope you enjoy it!

Next: Mark of the Beast || Tooth and Claw Masterlist

Sympathetic to the plight of the werewolves your kind have culled to near-extinction, life as a human informant has never been one of safety. However, when you catch the eye of an alpha, your situation only grows more perilous.

After many months of unremitting use, your once solid bed frame had become a rickety, wretched old thing. Its joints ground like those of a horse bound for the knackery. Weeks ago, you thought it near total collapse. Since then, however - though it protested any and all movement - it had remained intact. Because, no longer did you and Jungkook breed with the impassioned fervour you once did. No, these days your bed hosted only the most lacklustre of sex; the sort you never imagined needing endure when you tied yourself to him. After all, Jungkook was an oversexed, testosterone-burdened manbeast with a twelve inch cock and a negligible refractory period. So why was it now so scant? So underwhelming?

According to him, it was necessary.

Ugh.

Oh, how you longed for the days and nights Jungkook would run you all the way through, bending you this way and that to offload himself for the third, consecutive time. How he would grow and grow and grow, locking into place in the depths of your cunt and soothe you all the while.

Being that you were now five months pregnant, however, you were the only one ballooning. God, you missed his knot. Missed the intensity with which he once bedded you. Missed the—

“Does that feel okay?”

“It’s fine.”

Presently, Jungkook mounted you with the shallowest of thrusts, barely wetting half his length. The bed swayed beneath you, tapping the wall to the rhythm of his gently rolling hips. Before you’d grown big, it had clapped the cabin’s pine like thunder, and splintered where it struck. Today you clutched a pillow for comfort as Jungkook rocked you into a drowsy stupor.

It was so quiet that his breathing carried across you. It, too, was shallow - hardly laboured - and sometimes there came an occasional grunt of effort. Or perhaps of pleasure? It was difficult to distinguish to what extent the act satisfied Jungkook when he restrained himself so. By the furrow in his brow, it appeared more akin to torture. It certainly was for you. Your libido had grown unruly during gestation, and nothing much gratified you.

Nothing but your aforementioned, well-endowed mate. Only he could alleviate the nagging ache.

So it was to your utter dismay when Jungkook deemed you too large for such boisterous intercourse, and insisted you be handled like some delicate bijou. It was preposterous! You were tough enough to withstand a decade’s duty in the militia’s vanguard! A few extra inches of cock weren’t like to break you.

In the end, despite two full days of moody back-and-forth on the matter, he tempered your lovemaking significantly. And though your post-coital canoodling was as much to your joy and satisfaction as it ever was, you found the preceding act painfully lacking. Actually, literally painful. Pregnancy was quite intolerable.

You challenged Jungkook on several, fruitless occasions thereafter. But his constant dismissals would not deter you. Especially not today, when the entirety of you quivered for satiation, and he had been drip-feeding you cock for the past twenty-odd minutes. It was maddening. The path to climax was a sleet-sodden slope that you could never hope to climb.

"Jungkook, please, enter me fully. There’s no need for such caution. I know it hurts you to hold back." And me. “How many times must I assure you that I’m not as fragile as you think me?" You grimaced at the headboard as Jungkook probed your entrance with middling impetus. His girth was such that your cunt begged and fluttered to receive it deeper, distressed by the gaping space that went unfilled.

“Hmph.”

Jungkook’s considerable weight descended, blanketing your back to secure your compliance. With his breath at your ear, he interwove your fingers and exerted pressure enough to bow you to the blanket. Your ass, however, remained high and accessible; as submissive a posture there was. By the devilish chuckle that blew across your cheek, Jungkook already thought himself the victor of this quarrel. "And how many times must I ask you not to challenge me? I know my own strength." It was difficult to rebuke him when his lips skirted your ear so. So soft and wet and careful in their pressure.

"And I know your strength just as well. I have been on the receiving end of it for months before th-this—ah!" Pain suffused your neck where Jungkook’s mouth lingered. He curled his lip at your continued defiance. Out of the corner of your eye, his fangs bore a red glaze.

Mayhaps it was a warning, but it only served to embolden you.

"Nothing you could do would harm the pups. Please, Jungkook. I'm begging you." He liked being begged. Liked when you relinquished your power and station entirely. Because, outside your bedchambers, you were as important and respected as he. That he liked, too.

Your particularly bullish nature meant that Jungkook relished your surrender. Especially in the aftermath of contentious discussions. There had been many an occasion where Jungkook’s red-blooded urges almost jeopardised tactical assemblies, because he simply could not ignore them. Particularly the meetings where you butted heads on some divisive detail or another. The tension grew so stark during these exchanges that it cowed the other attendants into silence. You would exchange little else, thereon, but sultry glares, and Jungkook would orbit you in inappropriate proximity, breathing down your neck and rubbing you where others could not see. The sex after those meetings was singularly wild.

Jungkook attested often to his being a tethered beast, but you were the one with the leash. “Please. Put it all the way in,” you snivelled. “Alpha.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched at your urging; you felt him on your back, chest broad and feverish. He did not perspire out of exertion but sheer sexual frustration. It was obvious by the weight with which his balls hung; you spied them between your legs when you looked beneath. "Please, alpha. Take me completely."

Furtively, you grinned. Jungkook was an astute man. However, he was also a simple, dick-driven creature.

“Argh!”

A snarl seared your ear, drawing gooseflesh in its wake. You tilted your head to behold him; to enthrall him with lust-lidded eyes. But it was you who was captivated. Jungkook would never be anything less than breathtakingly handsome. The type women ripped costly bodices for. He was rugged; as hewn in the jaw as he was in body, and with eyes so honest you could be sup from his soul. Your mouth hung in open appreciation of his masculine beauty. Jungkook’s hips stuttered, then, as you drunk one another in. A fleeting slip, but enough to propel him deeper for a crucial moment. The repercussions manifested immediately. Your eyes rolled in their sockets and out came a harrowing groan. The entirety of your body tautened as your cunt did, grasping at his elusive length as it again withdrew. "Ugh. Jungkook!"

"Cease your attempts to seduce me, woman," Jungkook menaced, butting aside your head and raking his fangs along the angle of your jaw. "Your charms will not work." His tongue laved wherever they grazed, his hands surrendering your hips only to snake beneath and caress your rotund belly. So tender was he in his touches, that your cunt pulled with desire. Jungkook splayed his fingertips, cradling your circumference as best he could in his calloused palms. He muttered something soft and indiscernible about our children as he admired you, your provocation momentarily forgotten.

His cheek came by yours, then, rounded nose drifting to your temple to huff in your pregnant scent. According to him, you’d become overwhelmingly, wonderfully fragrant. Such that he would pine if denied it too long.

Chamomile.

That was what you effused while with child.

Jungkook’s favourite tea.

The headbutt that came next would reasonably incapacitate the average person; indeed, it was so strong that your knees rattled on their hinges. But Jungkook went unscathed, nuzzling a path through your tangled hair, air whooshing through his nostrils as he scented you. "God, you are beautiful. So round, so full. And utterly mine," Jungkook murmured, teetering on the fringes of abandon. He continued his ardent groping with a whine.

Had he really sabotaged his own restraint?

How funny that his undoing was his own. Positively hilarious.

That was, until you felt his cock sink deliberately deeper. Jungkook groaned as you did, though you were far more shameless in your desperation. “Oh, God—!”

"Fuck!" The curse word unravelled into a low, ungodly growl.

"Yes, Jungkook. More—" Your hands scrabbled for purchase on his backside, but it soon retreated out of reach as he again withdrew. "Godfuckingdamnit! What must I do to convince you? Please, do it again. I can take it!"

"I will not. It’s too much a risk. What happened was—was entirely unintentional, and I won’t allow it to happen again." He stated it with resolve, but his hips stuttered traitorously, heeding not him but the wolf within him. A rush of breath buffeted your shoulders and then Jungkook's nose was again in your nest of hair, inhaling himself to his senses. "That is the end of it," he murmured on exhale, seemingly sobered. "Now, let us continue." Penetration resumed at its previous, underwhelming pace, maddening you to your very marrow.

"Fine." A growl of your own grew in your chest. "Then I will not submit to you today."

When you dared look Jungkook’s way, the sheer displeasure buckling his features very nearly undid your determination. His brows hung gravely over his eyes, obscuring their usual, gentle glimmer with a severity that stirred your wanton pussy. "You will. You will always submit to me. I am your alpha," Jungkook stated with a snap of his teeth, seeking to subdue you with his hefty physique.

Oh, you absolutely would and should submit but it was imperative you defy him now or you would never see satiety.

With something of such import in the balance, you heaved yourself onto your elbows and then your hands, quaking beneath the werewolf that hung plastered to your back. As you rose, as you straightened your spine in defiance and denied Jungkook your submission, the growl behind you grew in outrage. His cock stalled at your opening, tip still between your folds.

“Not today.”

Jungkook's lips curled back along his gums, a slight tremor to his tautened jaw. Two, prominent fangs confronted you in the candlelight, your skin prickling where they'd countless times pierced. His authority was difficult to oppose when the mere visage of this apex predator was enough to buckle your knees and sodden your cunt. "You're a baffling woman. I've dominated you on hundreds of splendid occasions, and today is the day you defy me? Must I subjugate you again, my sweet?"

As much as you yearned to present him your sopping hole, it would be another five months of unrealised desire if you did.

To hell with that.

“Come, now. Show me how ready you are to receive me.” Jungkook sought to bow you with nips and kisses, but you would not be bowed. Not this time. When this much became clear, he peeled himself from your back and his cock from your hole. Oh, no. No, this wouldn't do.

"If you will not obey me then you will not receive me at all," he snorted, as enraged and engorged as a hung bull. Truly, he was a marvel that you could not tear your desirous eyes from. Not when he knelt there so, in all his strapping, virile glory. You whined for what you were cruelly denied. Jungkook interpreted your meaning well. "It is your own fault." He vented frustration through his flaring nostrils. "Present yourself to me or I will simply finish all over you."

Your cunt pulsed in anguish and joy. What a dream it would be if he painted you, cock in hand and strangling it of cum. If his sac throbbed with each ejaculation as it fell across your body, hot and sticky. If his lips were bitten bloody and his eyes crinkled closed.

God.

Yes, it would be beautiful. But it would afford you nothing in the end but your own, spiritless fingers to finish with. Jungkook had been so keen a lover that you could not even recall the last time you masturbated. And you weren’t about to start now, as unquenchable as you were.

So, you persisted. Prayed that your ruse might finally bear fruit. It all culminated with this: "I won't. How about you I take you, so that I may seek my own pleasure? Get on your back. Offer your belly up to me, wolf, so I may sit on you."

In a lightning's flash Jungkook was atop you, one muscular forearm looping your hips and the other strong across your chest, claws toying with the malleable flesh of your swollen breasts. His weight suffocated you once more, but you did not resist when he sought to manoeuvre you into submission. Not when, in the ferocity of his outrage did he then stuff you full with his entire cock, plunging to your depths in one, fluid thrust. It took your breath away. Deprived you of your vision. For a moment, nothing but blood raged in your ears as you fully comprehended just how in want you were. "Oh, G-Gods."

A scramble of depraved utterances streamed from Jungkook's mouth as he handled you as he truly wished. With just the one, greedy hand he bullied your swaying breasts, squeezing them as if to strain you of milk. Every vulgar grope, every pull of your nipples manifested violently in your cunt, throttling Jungkook's monstrous cock in arrhythmic convulsions. "I-Is it truly safe?" He posed it to you as a throaty moan, his other hand charting the flesh of your inner thighs and skimming them like a potter might wet clay. As his thumbs brushed the apex between, willingly and desperately you split your legs further apart, elevating your backside for his inspection. The mere act of yielding to Jungkook sensitised you to him tenfold. Though you were not werekind, his influence was such in its potency that it affected you all the same. A familiar, innate desire to pleasure him overcame you. And as you submitted to him now, nothing thrilled you more than the whines of appreciation that kissed your ears as his full length stretched you silly. Jungkook murmured again; lower and in earnest. "____. Is it truly safe?"

"It is. A thousand times I've said it." As you spoke he shifted within you, and the world shifted too. The gratification was profuse. "The babes will come to no harm," you sang, sliding along the base of his girthy cock. "And neither will I. No, I need this. And so do you."

"I won't deny that." Was all he said before he pinned you like a ravenous beast its beaten prey, hips snapping, momentum rippling through you. Each drive of his pelvis bombarded your cunt with his weighty, bloated balls as he dove in deep. They struck you like a rider’s crop, again and again, until you were sore and splendidly puffy. “Fuck, you’re so deep. I forgot how far back you go. God, you’re made for me. My perfect, pretty little bitch.” Jungkook was quickly carnal. Every phrase concluded in a wolfish whine.

He rutted you with the vigour of his first heat, feverish and erratic, jamming you to your limits with his colossal cock. His tip kissed your cervix on repeat, greasing your insides with pre-cum as he ploughed apart your unyielding walls. He leaked it so liberally now, so profusely that it dribbled from around him. All the while you yelped up a din beneath him, fully engrossed in your deference to him. You glimpsed night sky in the bedsheets, spatterings of stars combusting before your very eyes. They fell as tears, streaking your cheeks wet with relief.

"Yes, yes—that's it. Oh, you feel so good, my love. S-So good." Jungkook pistoned into you with expert precision, sweeping across your g-spot with every frenzied pass. A glorious ache tugged at your navel as he did so, wringing your insides like a sopping sponge. And, oh, how you were sopping. Vulgarly so. Jungkook juiced your cunt each time he crammed you full, soaking the space between you. It lacquered his abdomen 'til he shined in the lowlight. Gods, he was gorgeous, you could not help but glimpse him past your shoulder, to observe him as he split you apart, his eyes sharp and expression fraught. Your cunt heaved at the sight and sensation of him, and spurred him on.

"You were right. So right." Jungkook's tongue flicked around his gaping mouth, touching on his teeth in concentration. His eyes remained fixed to the site of your messy joining, tracking the drag and draw of his throbbing cock. "You can take anything. You're so strong. So beautiful," he whispered between uneven breaths, adhering himself to your arching back and resuming his earlier, intimate ministrations. As his lower half rippled and rammed you, his upper half cocooned you in comfort, gifting touches so soft they could be whispers.

You sensed it before it came. Hot breath tickled your nape for the briefest moment and then, there it was, sharp and soothing, a bite as familiar as his tender kiss; the bite that affirmed your initial bonding. It no longer induced pain, only a midsummer's welcome warmth. This first bite was the gentlest; Jungkook reasserting his claim. But then he withdrew, and struck again, and again, latching onto your nape for purchase as he pounded himself into your cunt to eke mewls from you.

"Ngh, fuck, it's happening too soon." Jungkook sounded utterly bereft. He did not, however, slow his incessant pace. His zeal had displaced you so far up the bed that the headboard clattered against your cheek. Discomfort was an irrelevant notion when you were having the life fucked into you, however. "I should withdraw."

"No!" It was practically a scream. "Knot me. Please, it's been too long. I need it, I need all of you," you burbled, tears afresh in your eyes. You were so close. Something momentous accumulated in your abdomen; teased glimpses of divine completion.

"Fuck!" Jungkook's hands roved your underside in woeful abandon, gripping at you like he might yet reestablish restraint. Clearly he could not, for his next move was to indulge in the blood that trickled freely from your neck. His long, rough tongue lapped you clean of his excesses, and his lips made sweet reparation. "I want—" A wet, solemn kiss. "I w-want—" A quick, furious thrust between your legs. "I want to fill you to the brim."

"Yes, do it, alpha. Please, please." Your whining rivalled that of the den's neediest pups. "I'm strong, like you said. I can take it. There is nothing more I've wanted these past months than that. Please knot me, Jungkook." As incentive you pitched your backside higher, clenching both orifices for his appreciation. Jungkook observed the gesture keenly, his cock jumping to a stall within you.

“Sh-shit—”

With surprising composure, he cupped the back of your head and tilted you toward him. Your cheekbones brushed in passing, and the tips of your noses pressed close. He sifted your eyes for sincerity before pressing his lips to yours in a long, torrid kiss that conveyed all that you needed from him. As you parted, Jungkook's tongue lingered long enough to draw strings. And then he grinned. "Alright. As you deferred to me so readily." His pace quickened, escalating into a frenzy of cunt-cleaving thrusts that drove ruthlessly along your upper wall. "I shall oblige you."

"Oh God—" The reservoir within you burgeoned suddenly, pulsed behind your cunt for release. And as you felt the dam begin to fracture, Jungkook's fingers found your clit amidst your plastered folds. One, establishing touch was all it took to undo you. As the base of his cock began to thicken, a river of fluid rushed around it as you finally, joyously climaxed, eyes half-lidded and sightless as you ascended. Euphoria tinged your every atom and daubed the world white. You convulsed on end and with alarming force, your pussy gulping down Jungkook's rapidly ballooning cock. The stretch of him stung wonderfully, pushed apart your seizing hole without care for your capacity.

"F-Fuck." Jungkook faltered upon witnessing the ferocity with which you gushed. It soaked what little remained dry of his thighs, clinging to their definition. You gasped and moaned beneath him, dizzied by orgasm, your mouth agape and cheek crushed flat to the headboard. His vascular forearms shook to support him as he hurtled toward completion. "You needed all of me, hm?" Jungkook panted, drunk on lust and wild with power. He gloated over you like the primeval beast he was, fangs bared and liberated by instinct. "Your slippery little cunt missed this, didn't it?"

You mustered little more than a gurgle as he continued to ravage your boneless body, fucking through your spasming cunt until he himself began to twitch. "Sh-Shit, fuck," he exclaimed on high, head thrown back and knot taking root. Though you were spent and without much sense, Jungkook's sudden, violent expulsion shot new life through you. Together you groaned, until he began baying, grinding his turgid cock as far as his knot would allow, frustrated by its impediment. Possessed by ferality, Jungkook nipped desperate pleas into your bruised shoulders, grunting with each subsequent spurt he emptied into you. Though he could no longer snap his hips, they nonetheless dug into you as he milked himself of residue. “God. Shit. I—” Monosyllabic cusses continued to fall from him as he prised himself from your limp body. Without a moment’s reprieve he maneuvered himself to his knees so as to better inspect your expanding belly, his hands roaming your bulging expanses. "Yes." It was almost a hiss. "You are perfect. So full of me and mine."

"Indeed, I am." You cast him a struggling smile. When Jungkook returned it, it revitalised you. Your smile grew into a grin. "And what a lucky woman I am."

"Come, let us make you more comfortable," Jungkook muttered with a touch to your dampened cheek. Historically his knots did not always abate in a timely manner. Knowing this, Jungkook clutched you to his chest, adjusting you so as not to tug at your joining, nor disturb your swollen belly. Ever so gently he steered you onto your side, his sweat-slick body clinging to your back. His knot throbbed pleasantly within, interlocking you indefinitely. And you did not object, because this was when you felt most at peace, most loved, most protected. His arms cradled you, encircled your precious load, and all the while he washed you of perspiration and blood. No week went by where your neck and shoulders were not a spectrum of colour due to Jungkook's oral attention.

You did not object to that either.

"Thank you, Jungkook. I really needed that. I genuinely shed tears," you giggled, your breasts askew around his forearm. It tensed and pulled you closer.

"So did I." A growl laced his chuckle. "But I would never harm you or the pups to satisfy my own selfish desires. Forgive me my obstinacy, but I had to be sure."

"I understand. And we are safe. We're the safest with you, my love."

Jungkook suspended his rigorous bathing of you to kiss the crown of your head. "You are. Nothing shall befall you while I still breathe.

For a dreadful moment, your ongoing predicament punctured the post-coital glow. But you resolved not to let it. No, it could wait until tomorrow. In the here and now, you did not have to fret whether Jungkook would return home tomorrow. Whether his dinner would grow cold and your bed perennially so.

No.

In this moment, he was here, as were you. One bonded pair and their six, synchronous heartbeats.

Just a quick note to elaborate on the reader’s pregnancy, as I appreciate not everyone will have read these asks.

1) She is pregnant with four boys.

2) They develop in utero as wolves, and are born in that form too - therefore they are quite a bit smaller than human babies. So she isn’t particularly overburdened. A few months after birth they will begin popping in and out of both forms until they learn to control it.

Next: Mark of the Beast || Tooth and Claw Masterlist

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jeongguk #jeongguk smut #jungkook fluff #jeongguk fluff #jungkook x you #jeongguk x you #jungkook scenarios #jeongguk scenarios #werewolf!jungkook #werewolf!jeongguk #bts smut #bts scenarios #a lycan dignity #tooth and claw

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wickedgamesoyaoya · 4 years

Text

Rather than intertwine your fingers with his, you reached out and slapped your palm against his in a high-five. The action stunned each of the males around you, although Suna was the first to comprehend what occurred, instantly stifling back laughter at how wide Osamu’s eyes had become. Their reactions did not phase you one bit, a fact that was illustrated by the confident smile plastered against your face.

“It’s going to take more than flowers to earn my forgiveness, gremlin,” Once you were stood on the step below the paralyzed male, you directed your hand to slip through your hair to the back of your neck, before ushering the strands to collide with his face. The cook pinched his eyelids together, then turned away from you to lessen the impact. “But I guess it’s a start.” Lifting your shoulders into a nonchalant shrug, you descended down the remaining steps until your platforms connected with the unpaved road.

Waiting for him was a curtsey you were not interested in bestowing upon him. Instead, you commenced down the pathway on your own, leaving him to arrive at his own leisure. For the one minute you were alone with the creatures of the night, you ventured to label the emotions ripping apart the lining of your stomach.

Raising your hand to the light, the diamond on your finger shinned with a brilliance that resembled the love you once shared. A love that no longer held the spark it did years ago. But seeing him tonight, knowing that he abandoned his selfish desires for you – a little seed of hope was planted. The question was, would he tend to the seed? Would he provide it the sunshine it required to bloom? Or would he destroy it with the icy indifference you were forced to become accustomed to?

The sound of another’s footsteps escorted your thoughts back to reality, and instinctively your hand was lowered back to its post. Osamu matched your pace with ease once he caught up, but he was slightly surprised by the bounce on your heel – you were walking like someone who had somewhere to be. He was certainly thankful that he left the flowers at the car, as you were clearly in no mood to receive them.

“You sure walk fast for someone with short legs.” A light chuckle accompanied his words, sending your heart rate back into a frenzy. Sometimes you pondered if your heart and mind were on completely different pages on the subject of love. Your heart would accept him, without any reservations. Your mind, on the other hand, was warning you against overstaying your welcome.

If your relationship was fated to expire – what would you do?

“Not everyone can be a giraffe. If you wanted someone taller you should have dated Ushijima.” The retort was drained of any audible emotion with your mind consumed by the anxieties of disobeying your destiny.

“Out of everyone in the world, why did you think of that guy?” Osamu dragged a hand through his hair, unintentionally adding a little fluff. He was a little confused why everyone was so damn obsessed with the guy ever since high school.

“Is he not tall?” Pausing, you allowed your gazes to meet, only to convey your disinterest in continuing the conversation.

“Yeah…” He almost felt like cowering under the intensity of your stare, it was a miracle he was able to choke out a response.

“Point made.” Maintaining eye-contact was far too strenuous with the weight of your emotions smothering you, and yet you were unable to rip your scrutiny away. How badly did you want his arms around you? Was it more than the desire to run away?

“Okay… But I wasn’t insulting you.” The emptiness glazing over your y/e/c irises sunk a wedge into his chest. Desperate to draw out the love you were suppressing, he closed the gap between you, slipping his arms around your waist. You titled your head as he nuzzled into your neck. His fluttering eyelashes brushed against the sensitive spot behind your ear, causing you to shiver unwillingly. “You know that I love your legs.” Sliding his hand from your waist to the small of your back, he applied a tender kiss to your neck.

“Do I know that?”

The hoarseness in your throat sent his blood rushing to his lower body, generating a haze that blurred the thoughts in his head. He knew you were seeking vulnerability; pure sentiments that he starved you of.

“You should, and I’m the worst for not telling you it more often.” He was not quite done with your neck, but he vowed to return after satisfying your needs. After pressing another peck against your flesh, he lifted his head to align your forehead with his for a brief moment.

“I love you, y/n. I knew I loved you when we were sixteen, making out when our friends were fighting in the gym.” Overwhelmed by his own confessions, his breaths became far more spaced out and heavy. “I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you when we were eighteen, and you told my mother without any hesitation that you would be giving her grandbabies.” The memory of his mother’s expression kindled a comforting warmth inside you. At first, she was flabbergasted, but ten minutes later she was planning a baby-shower. Funny enough, it was the older twin who shattered everyone’s fantasy by reminding them that you two were too young for children. Needless to say, the twin’s mother was quite upset for the remainder of the evening.

“Oi. I’m not done.” Osamu stole a kiss on the tip of your nose, aiming to draw your attention back to him. He knew that you would likely be reminiscing, and he needed you to hear what came next. “I lost track of what’s important, y/n. But I won’t again. You are my priority. I don’t care about anything else. I can’t be happy without you. The day I proposed to you was the happiest of my life.” Allowing his eyelids to shut, his mouth hovered over yours, searching for your approval. “I know you said you wanted space, but before that... Will you let me remind you of our love?”

Each inch of your skin burned in the ardor stemming from the entrancing words dripping from his lips. Both of your hands found refuge on his cheeks as you connected your mouth with his, aggressively. Using the hand on your back, he neatly framed your body against his then titled his head, providing you complete access to his mouth. He was in no mood to fight your desires; he would allow you to do what you pleased... to an extent. Removing a hand from his face, your fingers tugged at the bottom of his shirt, a simple action that drew a disapproving groan to vibrate in his throat.

“Baby, we’re in the open.” He did not stop you though, instead he began peppering open-mouthed kisses along your neck, battling the urge to leave a mark.

“Mhmm. Fine. If you don’t want me…” Trailing your tongue against your bottom lip, you attempted to fight your lustful urges by wiggling out of his grip. But he immediately shot down your efforts, keeping your body directly against his.

“Yeah right. You’re not leaving me. Sorry. You’re stuck to me forever.” An artificial frown crept upon his lips as he squished you playfully.

“This is not the human centipede, ‘Samu. I need space!” With his hands hovering around your sides, you knew trouble was brewing.

“You did not just compare hugging me to whatever occurred in that disgusting film.” Grunting, he began tickling your skin in revenge, forcing uncomfortable laughter to erupt from inside you. “Apologize.”

“Okay, okay!! I’m sorry.” Flailing around aimlessly, tears formed at your waterline as your failed to escape the lethal stimulation. “I’m sorry that you’re a punk ass bitch!”

Scoffing at the half-assed apology, he dropped a noisy and sloppy kiss to your cheek. “You’re marrying me, so I guess that makes you Ms. Punk Ass Bitch then.” While he may have been attempting to disgust you, the action filled your heart with a joy that brightened your features.

“Hmmm. I guess it does.”

Let’s do it again, shall we - human centipede

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: ok, this was KINDA cute, right?????

Taglist: @idiot-juice-enthusiast @vicassa @iloveanime691 @bringmelily @newfriendjen @hikarichannn @anime-simp @tsukkismamagucci @laughingismorefun @astronomyturtle @shegrewupwithoutafather @hyskoa1998 @deephumandragonperson @pretty-setter-bois @raenebalgaire @sugawarabby @justanotherfangirl2 @keijisworld @90s-belladonna @momoinot @sempiternal-amour @cherryblosom111 @yqshirov @haikyuufairy @volleybloop @bloody-bella @sadkaashistan @seikamuzu @namyari @toaster-stick @shakiraisawesome @coconut-dreamz @roseestuosity @prcttylittlcthing @uzumakioden @nerdynstoned @kenmasgameboy @unstableye @ouijaeater15 @aquariarose @fandomtrashpandasposts

#osamu x you #osamu scenario #osamu smau #hq osamu #osamu x reader #osamu x y/n #osamu miya #osamu fluff #haikyuu osamu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu smau #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu #haikyuu!!

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happyandticklish · 3 years

Text

New Beginnings

Notes: For the request by @yellowbakyura. I’m not super familiar with this ship, hence why this took so goddamn long, but I like the result! It was super interesting to write their dynamic! Thanks for sending in the request and I hope you enjoy! ^^

Summary: Masaomi tries to clear his mind and ends up running into an old friend.

Walking the city at night was a habit Masaomi had fallen into semi-accidentally. At first, it had been to meet up with Erika and Walker, who were always up to something, regardless the time of day. After a while, he continued going out even if it was without them, enjoying the way the world quieted once the sun fell. Though Ikebukuro was never truly silent, people bustling about the city with tasks of business and pleasure at all hours of the day, there was a kind of unity that the night brought.

It was nice to know that no matter how much time had passed, Ikebukuro was Ikebukuro. A city full of people making connections and gaining heartbreaks, where each moment could be an adventure if you let it. He had always loved that chaotic atmosphere, even now, years later. It was difficult to believe he had graduated just last year. Soon, he would be off to university, an exciting new life ahead of him.

Mikado had already left for home, and Anri was off abroad, her grades landing her a soaring success of scholarships. Eventually, only Masaomi was left. He still hadn’t decided where he was going, and the clock only seemed to tick faster as he struggled to decide. So he had decided to fall back onto an old tradition to help clear his mind.

That night, he strolled around Central Park, his hands interlocked behind his head. He took a seat by the fountain, kicking his legs up and curling them under himself. Around him were a variety of couples conversing under the cover of darkness, as well as several rambunctious teenagers joking and shoving each other perilously close to the water.

Masaomi sighed, leaning back on the cold foundation, a grateful relief from the heat of summer. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax.

“You know, it’s not safe to leave yourself so vulnerable in such a dangerous city. Who knows what kind of creeps you could run into?”

Masaomi’s eyes snapped open, his heart slamming against his chest at the familiar voice. Izaya Orihara stood on the ledge of the fountain behind him, peering down into his face with that serene, cat-like smile of his. It managed to somehow be both pleasant and menacing at the same time.

“The only creep I have to worry about is you,” Masaomi responded dryly, pretending like the other’s presence hadn’t just sent him into cardiac arrest.

“You wound me.” Izaya’s hands were shoved into his pockets, and Masaomi briefly wondered how he could be wearing something like that with the current weather. “I thought you considered me a friend.”

“I have friends. They don’t insist on treating my life like it’s some amusing game.”

“But isn’t that all life is? A game without rules, where winning can sometimes be the same thing as losing. It’s all about perspective, my dear Ma-sa-o-mi!”

“Don’t say my name like that—it’s weird.”

Masaomi sighed. Of all the people to run into, why did it have to be him? Right now he needed clarity, and for as long as he’d known him, Izaya had always provided the opposite of that. He had never met a single more confusing or frustrating individual as the man peering curiously down at him now. He could feel the age-old excitement buzzing in his limbs despite this. Izaya meant danger and risks, dancing through life on a dagger’s edge. It was addicting and terrifying all at once, a contradiction Masaomi had never been able to sort out inside himself.

“What are you doing out here anyway?” Izaya asked, taking a seat besides the other. His legs were tucked tightly underneath himself, far away from risk of falling in the fountain. Masaomi smirked, just slightly. “Shouldn’t you be spending your time with you friends, during these last days of freedom?”

“And what about you?” Masaomi shot back defensively. “You’re alone too, you know.”

“I’m never alone,” Izaya corrected, tossing an affectionate glance at the citizens enjoying the park, unaware of the shark amongst their midst. “I have all of humanity to entertain me. I find they make much better company than friends. After all, it’s impossible to know who others truly are when you constantly endeavor to see the best in them.”

Masaomi narrowed his eyes. Typical cryptic bastard. Still, tonight he found he didn’t mind it. It was a comfort to hear his nonsensical poetry; it helped to drown out the current thoughts plaguing his mind. “That’s something someone with no friends would say.”

“How cruel,” Izaya intoned, smirking lightly. “I forgot about that attitude of yours. You should work on that, if you want people to like you. Lighten up, you know?”

“People do like me—ah, hey!” He jerked back as Izaya poked him suddenly, a playful, harmless jab. The latter’s eyes widened as he registered the extreme reaction. “What was that for?”

“Interesting,” Izaya mused, poking him again. Masaomi drew his knees up protectively, leaning away from the other. “I never knew you were ticklish.”

“I’m not,” Masaomi said immediately. He didn’t like the way Izaya was looking at him, like a predator that had just found its prey. It made his insides squirm, not unpleasantly. Still, he knew this game. Give Izaya an inch and he’d take a full three miles before he gave up. He forget how it was to have those eyes, slanted and inquisitive, targeted at him. “And who just goes around poking people?”

“Lying will get you nowhere.” Izaya was undeterred by the other’s protective position, merely grabbing his leg instead. “Your denials only make me more sure of my assumption.”

“Wha—hey!” Masaomi flailed, just narrowly catching himself and avoiding falling in the fountain. He glared at the other, attempting to jerk his leg back, but found the other’s hold stronger than he originally thought. It was easy to forget how strong Izaya could be when he was so often in comparison to Shizuo. “What are you doing?!”

“Proving a point,” Izaya replied simply, sliding off his shoe like it was nothing and dropping it besides them on the ground. “This will provide ample payback for your earlier comment, don’t you agree? Now, where to start?”

Masaomi clamped his mouth shut when Izaya dragged a lone finger up his sole, his toes curling instinctively. He cursed himself for the reaction, giving himself away before they’d hardly started. It was strange how little defense his socks gave him as Izaya gently scratched the area with a precision that was altogether unfair.

“H-Hnrgh,” Masaomi grunted, attempting to hold back the giggles building in his throat. “I-Izaya!”

“I never realized you were so sensitive!” Izaya marveled, adding more fingers into the mix that crawled up his soles teasingly. Masaomi yelped, jerking hard on his trapped leg. Goosebumps prickled down his arms, as though his foot had a direct link to the rest of the nerve endings in his body. “You should’ve told me earlier—I’ve been missing out on all the fun.”

“T-This ihis exactly w-why, I—ah—heh, d-dihidn’t tell you!” Masaomi covered his face, hoping to hide the blush spreading rapidly across his features. “Izaya!” he squawked suddenly when fingernails skittered teasingly under his toes. “Thahat tihihickles!”

“Well, I should hope so,” Izaya said, amusement dancing in his eyes as he glanced back at the other. “I am tickling you after all.”

Masaomi grinned, his heart fluttering strangely in his chest. “S-Shuhuhut uhuhup!”

“And why should I do that when you give such wonderful reactions whenever I do the opposite?”

This was ridiculous. Masaomi was being ridiculous. After all these years, and still, Izaya knew all the best ways to get under his skin. Old memories were cropping up of hands clapping down firmly on his shoulder, a teasing grin, and those eyes that shot right through you until you couldn’t think anymore.

Masaomi cursed himself internally. He was older now. Smarter. A different person. He was supposed to be preparing for the next stage in his life, choosing who he wanted to represent as a living creature in the vast cosmos, and yet, all he could think about was some stupid high school crush.

People were staring, but not that much. It wasn’t unusual to see strange things in Ikebukuro. He could hear the name Izaya Orihara floating around with notes of surprise, but no one intervened. Masaomi was almost glad for it. It would have been far too embarrassing to have a stranger approach him like this, giggling and squirming like a fool over tickling, of all things.

“What’s wrong? Nothing to say?” He was loving this. The goddamn bastard was soaking this up and Masaomi was going to kill him right after he stopped getting the urge to tackle him to the ground and kiss him until Izaya was just as breathless as him. “You’re usually so talkative. Could it be that you’re too ticklish to withstand something as simple as this? I mean, it’s almost funny—I’m hardly touching you.”

Masaomi squeaked, falling backwards against the marble. “Nahahaha, y-yohohou—fuhuhuhuck!”

“Maybe you like it,” Izaya guessed cheerfully. Masaomi’s toes appeared to be a particularly bad spot, and so he concentrated his efforts there, prying them back with one hand to get better access. Masaomi’s laughter went up several octaves at the new technique, his squirming growing more desperate. “That must be it. Little Masaomi likes to be tickled and he can’t admit it, so he resorts to saying nothing instead, is that it?”

“Nahahahat lihihihittle!” Masaomi protested, his face growing redder if that was even possible. Whether it was because of Izaya’s teasing words or the truth behind them, he couldn’t say. Possibly both.

“Oh? That’s not a denial, you know. Well, if you really do like this, I suppose my only option is to keep going. But these socks are really getting in the way, don’t you think?” Izaya frowned, clucking his tongue in disappointment. “We’re going to have to do something about that.”

Masaomi’s breath hitched when he felt Izaya’s fingers slipping under his sock, nails grazing the skin teasingly as he pulled it off. He let out a frankly embarrassing squeak, and before he could help himself instinct took over. His free foot connected with Izaya’s back, startling him into letting go. However, Masaomi had underestimated the strength he had put into the kick, and they both watched in surprise as Izaya went tumbling into the fountain with a strangled yelp.

Masaomi took a deep breath, still giggling slightly as he sat up. He rubbed his foot against the fountain’s edge, trying to relieve himself of the phantom tickles running through his nervous system. Once he had collected himself slightly, he glanced over at the other only to almost lose it all over again at the sight.

Izaya sat blinking in surprise, his pants soaked through and his jacket floating besides him. His hair fell into his eyes, pasted there by the water. Any semblance of dignity he had held before was gone now. He noticed Masaomi’s face and narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

“I thought you wanted me to laugh?” Masaomi shot back, unable to help his delighted grin. To see the great Izaya Orihara in such a manner, drenched and shell-shocked after falling on his ass, was something he had never thought he would witness, though he was immensely glad he had.

Izaya glared at him, his cheeks dusted a faint shade of pink. “You are an insufferable brat.”

“Pot calling the kettle black, wouldn’t you say?”

“You think you’re funny.”

“I’m hilarious.”

Izaya stared as a hand was outstretched towards him, Masaomi’s friendly features on the other side. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you out, obviously,” Masaomi replied, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, just take it. I don’t bite.”

Izaya watched him suspiciously for a moment, before reluctantly accepting his hand. Masaomi pulled him out, the other’s pants sloshing comically as he stood up. Izaya sat down, shedding his jacket in disgust as he stared at the dripping mess. “It’s ruined.”

“It’s just water.”

“You weren’t the one that fell in the fountain.”

“It was an accident! Besides, you were the one tickling me!”

“It’s not my fault you’re that ticklish.”

Masaomi flushed. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Fine.”

Masaomi did not remember consciously deciding to lean over and kiss the other, only that once he had it was everything he had imagined it to be. Izaya’s lips were soft, and they parted under Masaomi’s in surprise. For a moment, everything was wonderful.

And then Masaomi opened his eyes and noticed Izaya’s shocked expression.

Shit.

Masaomi jerked back, flailing awkwardly in his attempt to slide off the fountain. “I’m sorry! That was weird! I’m weird. Fuck. I don’t know why I did that. I’m just gonna… go… now… yeah.” He nodded furiously, snatching up his shoe and whirling around, not even bothering to put it on before he ran off.

His heart felt like it was gonna explode outside of his chest, and he couldn’t decide between imploding with joy or panic. Going to the park was supposed to help clear his mind, and it was anything but clear now. Why did he decide to do that? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Several yards away, Izaya sat staring after him, his fingers pressed delicately against the spot where Masaomi’s lips had been a moment before.

He smiled softly.

#tickling #tickle fic #kizaya #durarara #durarara!!#izaya orihara #masaomi kida #fic request #requests #fanfiction

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ladyreapermc · 4 years

Text

Fic: Insatiable Craving (John Wick x Reader)

Summary: AU. Visiting Daisy’s dorm, John runs into Y/N instead and they can’t keep their hands off each other. Part 1: Brooklyn Baby | Part 2: A little loss of innocence | Part 4: Make it Hurt | Part 5: Play with Fire |

Author’s notes: Have some more filth. Feedback is appreciated

Wordcount: 2736

Warnings: age gap; smut (oral; dirty talk)

This wasn’t the first time that John visited Daisy’s dorm, though he had been out of the country when she did the typical transition of moving into college for the first time, leaving Helen to come with her alone, much to his ex-wife chagrin.

He still remembered the argument they had over the phone when he called to let Daisy know. John visited her as soon as he had been back, unsure how to mark this momentous phase of his daughter’s life since he had never experienced such things as college or even formal education.

Back then, Daisy had a different roommate who asked to be transferred six months in because his daughter was loud. Daisy had been hurt, of course. She was the life of the party and so used to everyone loving her all through high school. In college, it was harder for her to fit in, but one thing that John was proud to see was the resilience that she inherited from him and soon enough she found the right way to manage this new context. Right around that time, Daisy met Y/N, and they became inseparable.

Funny that John barely remembered meeting her back then. She was a meek and quiet girl, trailing along after his daughter and barely being able to hold his gaze. They met a few other times during the last three years, John was sure of it, but he couldn’t even recall what she looked like or if they even interacted. She was a completely different creature now and John wondered what happened that made her grow into her own skin and officially haunt his dreams.

They both knew what they were doing was wrong, of course. Maybe if they had kept it as a one-time thing, an impulsive decision of two lonely people, it could have been forgotten and he wouldn’t feel as guilty.

However, she showed up at his step two weeks later looking for more, and that put them in a territory of crossed lines that could never be uncrossed. John was too far deep, enamored by her submissiveness, and willing to give herself wholeheartedly to him. He never had that before.

Helen had been his Dom during their whole marriage before that there was Marcus, who also took that position. Whenever he had one-night stands, John never let himself explore those urges. Too many consequences with too dangerous people. But with her? It felt natural to dominate her, command her every motion, and take care of her. It was the release he needed in a life that always seemed so out of his control.

John didn’t choose to be the killing machine that they made him. He didn’t choose to be so effective in his job or to be under High Table’s command, like an attack dog that all they needed to do was direct and release.

He didn’t even choose to be with Helen at first. It was more like a desperate need because she had been something bright and beautiful for the first time in his life. She chose to be with him despite all the ugliness of his soul but she also chose to let him go when she couldn’t take it anymore.

John chose Y/N. He could have sent her away when she showed up on her door. He could have pushed her away when she got on his lap. He could have taken the right path but in a life of darkness, what was one more sin? So he chose her but John had yet to make the call to see her again.

The night after she had visited him, John got a contract and had to leave. She had been disappointed by his sudden departure but accepted his promise of a call as soon as he returned, which happened this morning. Now here John was, ready for his weekly dinner with Daisy but knowing that afterward, she would be meeting him in a hotel, putting herself completely at his disposal.

As John approached the right room, he could hear loud pop music coming from the place. His knuckles rasped on the door and moments later Daisy yanked the door open, her eyes widening at seeing him. She forgot about their dinner, he realized.

“You’re back!” she squealed, throwing herself in his arms, John chuckled and hugged her. He loved how Daisy had inherited Helen’s brightness.

“Just got in this morning. Can you do dinner, or should we reschedule?” He settled her back on the ground, watching as Daisy thought for a moment.

“No, no. We can go. I just need to take a quick shower and get dressed,” she said, already moving about the room, gathering what she needed: toiletry bag, towel, and clothes. “I’ll be back in 15 minutes max.”

John just hummed in agreement, watching his daughter disappearing out the door. He had talked to Helen about getting Daisy an apartment in the city so she could have more space and privacy, but Helen wanted their daughter to make that decision herself; start to learn some independence and in the end, John didn’t argue.

Helen knew their daughter best after all since once they divorced, Daisy lived with her. It was logical, of course. John was always all around the world all the time. Helen was the one that could offer the girl a stable home. So she kept custody and since she and John remained civil, he had visitation rights, which he took advantage of whenever he was in town.

As Daisy grew older, John felt them distancing themselves. Maybe it was just the fact that Daisy had completely different interests and personalities. Or maybe she just sensed that he had been lying to her for so long, either way, John felt the strain and distance and tried his best to keep them together at any cost because the thought of losing his daughter put the fear of God in his heart. She was the only beacon of light in his life.

Just by looking at her side of the dorm, he could see it, her bright and bubbly personality on the pastels tones of her duvet and cheerful wall decorations with little lights and unicorn figures. Her desk was cluttered with makeup and hair ties and other little trinkets she collected over the years. She was, like her mom, an artistic person fond of vivid colors and chaos.

The other side of the dorm showed a much more subdued tone of its other occupant. The bed duvet a dark blue and the walls adorned with sticker notes and study aids, but a few inspirational phrases from famous thinkers. Above the neat and organized desk, there were shelves packed to capacity with books, most of them textbooks but John spotted a few classics too, family pictures, and a few medals.

Before he could take a closer look, have a chance to know a little more about the girl that had just wormed her way into his life, the door opened, dragging his attention away. John expected to see Daisy since her fifteen had long passed but instead, it was Y/N, face flushed, hair wet and messy, her clothes seemly damp and clinging to her skin.

“Mr. Wick,” she looked startled, flush getting brighter. “I thought…”

Her words hung unfinished as John moved closer, crowding her against the wall. He hadn’t realized how much he missed and craved her until he laid his eyes on her. Now all John could think was having a taste.

She met his lips willingly, arms coming around his neck and threading through his hair as John invaded her mouth with ferocity, nipping and sucking her lower lip, making her moan softly against him. She tasted and smelled of chlorine and though it was strange John liked it. He liked everything about her.

“We should stop,” he mumbled even if his lips were descending her neck, chasing her taste. “Daisy will be back from her shower soon.”

“How long she’s been gone?” she asked, tilting her head back, pushing her hair away to give him more space to work.

“ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”

“Then we have another 20 minutes, maybe 30,” she smirked at him, hand cupping John through his trousers and he grunted against her collarbone. “Daisy likes to take her time.”

She squeezed his hardening cock and John wished he had the strength of will to say no that they could get caught by his daughter, but he had spent a week having only his hand as his company and he missed her. He missed the feel of her tight cunt squeezing around him and he shouldn’t be that addicted over something he only had once.

“How do you want me, sir?” she asked, giving him a look through her lashes, and any sanity left for John’s flew straight out of the window.

“Knees,” he growled, pushing her down. “I want your mouth around me right now.”

She nodded, undoing his buttons with quick, nimble fingers while he gathered her hair, brushing them away from her face so John could see her as she licked her lips in want when she took his cock out of his pants and underwear, stroking him to full hardness.

“You’re so fucking big, sir,” she blinked up at him with a smirk. “I can’t fit all that in my mouth.”

“Take what you can,” he ordered, rocking his hips until she took the hint and brought his leaking tip to her lips. “But don’t worry, you’ll learn to take all of me because I’m gonna fuck that pretty little mouth.”

There it was again, the little whimper of need that she let out whenever John said something that aroused her. He bet if he reached between her legs right now she would be hot and soaked, maybe even ready to take him. John loved how horny she was; how she wanted him to use her in any way he saw fit.

Her tongue snaked out to catch the precum glistening at his tip and she hummed in pleasure before kissing the crown of his head softly, lips dragging over his length along with her tongue, exploring and discovering his cock. In other circumstances, John would let her keep going, take her time, but they were toeing the line of getting caught and he was too desperate for slow.

“Open up,” he ordered, tugging on her hair and taking his length in hand, stroking a couple of times to spark those bolts of pleasure all over his body, before he guided his cock into the wet heat of her mouth. Her soft lips pressed and stretched around his girth as he inched deeper and deeper until he felt resistance.

He let her adjust to his size, her tongue rubbing against this underside, her cheeks hollowing with just enough suction and he groaned at the feel of it and the look in her eyes. Big doe eyes silently asking if it was right; if this was how he wanted.

“Almost perfect, darling.” John caressed her cheek, feeling his shape against her skin before he adjusted the angle of her head ad pushed deeper. He saw the flash of panic in her eyes as his head pressed forward, activating her gagging reflexes.

She spluttered and choked, tears gathering on the corner of her eyes and saliva leaking from her mouth. John petted her cheek and shushed her, whispering encouragements for her to relax and breathe through her nose. He pulled back, giving her, a bit of reprieve, she gasped and panted, looking up at him with tear-stained face and pout as if already missing his cock.

John couldn’t resist bending down and catching her lips in a soft kiss before returning his length back into her mouth and this time, when he pushed farther, she was ready and forced herself to relax welcoming him in and swallowing around his head, making John groan.

“You’re such a fast learner, darling,” he praised, speeding up his motions, feeling the telltale drawing on his balls and busts of pleasure through his body. John was close and he couldn’t way to cum all over that pretty little mouth.

Her fists tightened on the fabric of his trousers as she relaxed her jaw and John started to fuck her mouth in a faster pace, the wet heat surrounding him felt delicious, but not quite like the velvet walls of her cunt, which he truly missed. But for now, this would do.

Later tonight, John would spread her open on the bed, make her cum as many times as she could handle until the was an incoherent mess, completely at his mercy just like she put him at hers with her sweet little smile and bewitching gaze.

Just the thought of having her all to himself without the worry and constriction of time was enough to send John over the edge and he felt the pull in his spin, the pressure becoming unbearable. He pulled out just enough to leave only his tip on her lips before he came with a grunt, hand tightening in her hair as his cum spilled over her waiting tongue and mouth.

She took all of it, looking at him hungrily, making a show of swallowing every drop. John groaned again and dragged her upwards for a savage kiss that made him taste himself, her hands clenching on his shirt as she moaned against his lips, her legs pressed tight together and John chuckled, knowing she was soaked and in desperate need for release.

“Remember, darling,” he said, pressing a soft kiss against her jaw. “That cunt is mine and you’re not allowed to touch it without permission.”

“I know, sir,” her voice was a little whiny, almost pitiful as she pouted at him.

“Be a good girl and get your reward later tonight.”

She nodded eagerly, meeting his lips again but the kiss was short-lived as they caught the sound of Daisy cheerfully talking to someone just outside the door. She quickly scrambled to her side of the dorm, while John turned his back to the door to tuck himself back into his pants.

“I’m ready!” Daisy announced as she busted into the room with a wide smile, her gaze bouncing from John to Y/N sitting at her desk, trying to do her best to not look guilty. “Uhh! You should come and have dinner with dad and me, Beebee!”

“Beebee?” John asked confused. She smiled at him and this time the flush on her cheek was more of out shyness than arousal like she reverted to timid girl the second they weren’t fucking.

“Just a silly nickname,” she shrugged.

“Yeah, because she’s a Brooklyn Baby!” Daisy declared with a proud grin and John had a feeling his daughter coined it. “Get it? Anyway, are you coming?”

John just hummed, glancing at her in expectation, part of him wanted her to come along but at the same time, he knew he wouldn’t be able to really focus if she was there, his thought venturing in dirty territories due to her mere presence.

“Thanks, but I have a paper to finish,” she said, smiling at Daisy. “Besides, I don’t want to intrude in your father-daughter time.”

“You can do it later,” Daisy insisted, shooting those very effective puppy dog eyes of hers, but the other girl seemed immune because she just rolled her eyes. “Come oooon.”

“I have a thing later.” Daisy’s pout turned into a smirk.

“Does this thing have anything to do with the reason you came home last week full of hickeys?”

John nearly choked in panic, covering up with a quick, fake cough as Y/N flushed bright red. He had forgotten completely he had left her those little parting gift.

“Daisy!” she chided her friend with a glare and John decided it was time to intervene.

“Sweetie, I’m sure your friend doesn’t want to have this conversation in front of me and we should really get going.” With one hand on the small of Daisy’s back, John guided his daughter to the door, pausing briefly to look at her. “You’re sure you don’t want to join us, Beebee?”

The nickname rolled off his tongue easily and her eyes darkened a little as she caught her lower lip between her teeth, giving him a very suggestive look.

“I’m sure, Mr. Wick. See you later.”

xxx

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@toomanystoriessolittletime @meetmeinthematinee @theolsdalova @penwieldingdreamer @fanficsrusz @eevee-of-rivia @reid-187 @howtoruin-someones-perfect-day @sallyp-53 @anxiteyfilledcupcake @pinkzsugar @angelic-kisses13 @futuristic-imbecile @wonderlandfandomkingdom @krazycags01 @beyond-antares @cumberbatchbaps @sgt-morgan @a-really-bi-girl @nonsensicalobsessions @poisonedjoinery @soarocks @partypoison00 @hnryycvll @keiva1000 @shellbilee @ivvitm1109 @babayagakeanu @trippedmetaldetector @missrandomista @stxphmxlls @geralt-yennefer-jeskier @jadore30 @savaneafricaine @foxyjwls007 @bohemianrhapsody86 @thehumanistsdiary @keandrews @rdjloverxxx @black-ninja-blade@baphometwolf666 @iworshipkeanureeves @feminine-machinegun @bobblewonka @jjovonovich @ledger-kaos @weird-civilian @skalech

#keanu reeves fanfic #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fanfic #keanu reeves x reader

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jaskierswolf · 4 years

Text

Part of Your World Pt.3/4

Main Summary: Jaskier is a sea witch who finds Ciri crying by the edge of the ocean. She's lonely and desperate to find her Destiny so Jaskier offers to escort her to him. (On AO3) _____________

The night had been an awkward one. Jaskier had insisted it was too late to go after Geralt but Ciri hadn’t wanted to go back to sleep. He wasn’t proud about it but he had charmed the young girl back into a magical slumber. He hoped that she wouldn’t be too angry with him. Geralt had still been nearby, he knew that much but the witcher kept his distance.

Jaskier had changed back to his human form so he could stay with Ciri whilst she slept. He didn’t sleep as much as humans did but he did manage to catch a few winks before the dawn creeped over the horizon. Jaskier rolled over on the ground with a groan. He never enjoyed the sunlight in the early morning. It took him a while to adjust to the light. He buried his face into his sleeves and squeezed his eyes shut.

“She won’t wake up.”

Jaskier yelped and sat up, his head spinning at the sudden movement. “G-Geralt?” He slurred and blinked a few times. Geralt was indeed sat across them poking at the ashes of the campfire. His swords were strapped to his back and his was looking all grumpy in his black leather armour.

Honestly, how did anyone manage to look that attractive with a constant frown on their face?

But Jaskier also remembered how they had laughed together in the water, the bright smile on Geralt’s face. It had been absolutely radiant in its beauty. He also remembered the way they had held hands on the walk from the tavern, he wasn’t sure Geralt had even realised they were doing it but Jaskier had been giddy the entire time.

He’d always had a habit of falling in love too fast, but this time was a whole new level. He wanted to pull Geralt down into the depths of the ocean and never let him leave. It was such a pity that witchers needed the air to breathe.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring at Geralt, in his sleepy haze, but it suddenly dawned on him that Geralt had spoken to him, not a question exactly but one that still required an answer.

“Ah umm… yes. No. She won’t.” Jaskier hummed and looked down at Ciri. She was curled up in a ball and her long ashen hair was covering her face. “She wanted to go after you. She almost ran off into the night.”

Geralt let out a low growl. “She could have been hurt.”

Jaskier huffed and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, yes. You see that is exactly why I put the spell on her. Oh don’t look at me like that, Geralt. It is easily reversible.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“What’s… what’s stopping me?” Jaskier threw his hands up and then flopped back onto the ground. “Geralt!” He whined. “You ran away the moment she saw you!”

“Hmm.”

“Oh stop with your hums and grunts.” He muttered. “I’ll wake her and you can explain to Ciri why you ran away like a coward!” He snapped.

Geralt sighed and rested his forehead on his fingers. “I’m no coward, bard.”

“Oh really?” Jaskier grumbled. “Because from where I’m standing you look exactly like a coward.”

“Calanthe would have my head.”

“Calanthe is fighting a force that is greater than all of us, Geralt. Ciri is lonely. She thought that finding you might change that. She’s a good kid. I promised her that I would help find you and I really hate breaking my promises.”

That was true. It was part of a sea witch’s genetic make-up. A promise made must be kept. It could make them feel very sick for weeks if they broke that promise. It was why his mother was so particular in the wording she used whilst when making deals with the mermaids. Jaskier wasn’t quite so lucky. He’d spent many a month in bed after failing to finish a bargain that he’d made.

“I’ll talk to her, but she’s too young for the path. We’ll take her back to Cintra.” Geralt muttered.

Jaskier snorted. “We?”

“You started this mess.” Geralt smirked.

Jaskier raised his eyebrow and sauntered over to the witcher, cupping his cheek in his hands. “Why, dear heart, it’s almost as if you want to spend more time with me?”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm yourself.” Jaskier licked his lips and then leant forward to brush a kiss on Geralt’s cheek before the nerves got the better of him.

Geralt grabbed his wrist before he could properly pull away. “Jaskier.”

“Yes, Geralt?” He asked, his cheeks heating up as he tried not to overthink what he’d just done.

“That’s. That’s not a good idea.” Geralt closed his eyes and threw Jaskier’s wrist away as if it had burned him.

Jaskier’s heart clenched in his chest and he pulled his arms around his chest. “No. Of course not, witcher. I am a monster after all.”

Geralt grunted and nodded towards Ciri. “Wake her. We’ll, I’ll take her home.”

Jaskier sighed. So it was ‘I’ now. Well that wasn’t entirely unexpected and he did need to get home. If he headed west from this part of the forest he would be back to the coast sooner than if travelled to Cintra with Ciri and Geralt. His mother would be wondering where’s he’d gotten to by now. It had been a long time away, even for him. He chewed on his lip, pulling at the rough skin. He didn’t want to leave Geralt. It was foolish, he’d only known him for a few waking hours but he wanted to know more. He just felt that if he let the witcher go now then he would regret it.

He’d regret it for a long time.

“Cintra is by the coast.” He said, his voice cracking. “It would be safer to travel together.”

Geralt fixed him with a fiery stare but Jaskier didn’t back down. They were still close enough to the river for him to be able to use his magic but he honestly didn’t believe Geralt would hurt him. He stared back with as much fierceness as he could muster and put one hand on his hip. Eventually Geralt snarled. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Just wake her already.” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier stroked his fingers through Ciri’s hair. “Time to wake up, little lion cub.” He sang in her ear.

She groaned and rolled over. Jaskier smirked at Geralt. “See, she’s fine.”

“Hmm.”

___________________________

The journey back to Cintra was not an eventful one. Geralt and Ciri glared at each other for the first couple of days whilst Jaskier filled the silence with tunes from his lute. He tried to make sure he kept the lyrics as far away from love as possible but every time his gaze met Geralt’s he just wanted to sing of his desire for the witcher. As a result he frequently resorted to singing more bawdy, not entirely Ciri appropriate songs. He couldn’t help it. They were just less embarrassing than pouring his heart out in front of Geralt.

After the first few days, Geralt had grumbled an apology for running away to the princess. She had lit up and pulled him into a hug. Geralt had given Jaskier a look of sheer surprise and Jaskier had cackled about it for days but after that moment things had settled down. Ciri told Geralt all about her life at Cintra and Geralt in return told them both snippets of his life on the path.

Jaskier mostly listened. He still hummed and sang in the background, strumming happily on his lute but he absorbed the new information about Geralt and Ciri like a sponge. The poems and ballads already forming in his head.

They were a days ride away from Cintra when he caught Geralt staring at him across the camp. Ciri was already curled up asleep with her head on Geralt’s lap. Destiny was a funny thing. Ciri seemed to already see Geralt like some kind of parental figure but had accepted that they would go back to Cintra until she was older. Geralt for his part seemed to have settled into the role of parent with an ease that neither witcher nor sea witch had anticipated. Jaskier supposed he should have known really, despite all his grumpiness, Geralt was at his core fiercely protective over those he deemed to be worthy. It hadn’t taken long to work that one out, and Jaskier was certain the reason the child surprise scared Geralt so much was that he didn’t believe himself to be worthy of her.

It was utter bollocks.

Geralt had given the girl more care and attention in the few weeks he had known her than Calanthe had given her in the years she’d spent in court. Jaskier could relate to that one. Being the child of royalty was not all it cracked up to be. His mother spent more time on her potions and her contracts and spells than on her only son. He had had to entertain himself for years, and it seemed Ciri had been the same. She was thriving under Geralt’s care. She soaked up the storied he told as much as Jaskier did. Jaskier even noticed that Ciri had started mimicking Geralt’s actions and manner of speaking. It was all fascinating. Humans were a funny bunch.

But now Geralt’s attention was solely focussed on him whilst the girl was asleep. Jaskier felt his cheeks heat up under the witcher’s gaze and he put away his notebook with a heavy sigh.

“You know, dear heart. The way the fire dances in your eyes is absolutely sinful.” The words fell from his lips before he could stop them.

Geralt rolled his eyes and smirked. “I told you, it’s not a good idea.”

Jaskier pouted. “I know, I know. I don’t expect anything, dear witcher, but it would be a tragedy if you didn’t know how beautiful you are.”

Geralt tilted his head and smiled at Jaskier so softly that he thought his heart might explode. “Says the creature who could woo a thousand monarchs.”

Jaskier winked. “Only a thousand?”

“Hmm.” Geralt gently lifted Ciri up and carried her to her bedroll. She wiggled in his arms as he moved her but she didn’t wake. Jaskier hummed gently under his breath to weave a spell so they wouldn’t disturb the sleeping princess. Once she was settled Geralt came to sit next to Jaskier, bumping their shoulders together. “A thousand monarchs and one witcher.”

Jaskier choked and turned to face Geralt, his face burning hotter than the fire. “I’m sorry, What?!”

Geralt chuckled.

“Oh ho ho! No!” Jaskier gaped at Geralt, trying to stop his magic from going feral and turning him back into his natural form. “You do not get to just laugh! Weeks, Geralt. I have been pining over you and your gorgeous eyes for weeks! And then what? You suddenly flirt back! It’s just not fair.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at him. “You changed your mind?”

“What?! No! No!” Jaskier groaned and leant in to bury his face against Geralt’s shoulder. “No.” He mumbled. “I just want to know when you changed yours.”

Geralt sighed and leant his head against Jaskier’s. “You were always beautiful to me, when I saw you watching me. I thought you were beautiful and your scent, it reminded me of the ocean even before I knew what you were.”

“You reached for your swords.” Jaskier reminded him.

“You wouldn’t have been the first human to try and kill me.” Geralt muttered. “When I realised you were looking for me, I assumed the worst. I was wrong.”

“But I’m a monster.”

“No. You’re just not human. Neither am I. Doesn’t make us monsters.”

Jaskier laughed and snuggled closer against Geralt’s chest. “So when exactly did I woo you, oh great witcher? I thought I’d been more subtle.”

“Jaskier, you are as subtle as a Roach on a rooftop.”

Jaskier furrowed his brow. “I. What? Geralt, that doesn’t even make sense?”

Geralt laughed. “Long story.”

“Tell me.” He joined in with Geralt’s laughter and linked their hands together.

And Geralt did. He told Jaskier of the time where he’d come back from a contract to find his horse standing on the top of the tavern. To this day no one knew how the the mare had managed to end up on the roof. Geralt suspected a mage had been trying to get back at him for something. Either way, the entire village had gathered and darling Roach had ended up with her own Gwent card to mark the occasion.

Jaskier had been in fits of laughter by the end of the story, muffling the noise in his hands. “Oh, darling.” He frowned and looked around the camp. “Where is she now?”

Geralt looked up. They’d retrieved her from the tavern before heading back towards Cintra but Jaskier hadn’t seen the mare since they’d made camp earlier that evening. Geralt gave a sharp whistle and the mare came trotting out of the trees.

Jaskier grinned. “Well now, isn’t she a clever girl?” He cooed at the mare who flicked her ears with a snort.

“Hmm.” Geralt said fondly as he stroked the horse’s muzzle. “She is.”

“Why wait until now, Geralt?” Jaskier asked, holding up their hands when Geralt gave him a confused look.

Geralt shrugged. “I was losing you anyway, thought you should know, before we part.”

Jaskier groaned. “But I could have had weeks of kissing you, and now we only have tonight!” He pouted.

Geralt hummed and held Jaskier’s cheek so they were facing each other in front of the fire. “Then let’s not waste time.”

Jaskier surged forward and claimed Geralt’s lips with his own, a kiss that he had been dreaming of ever since their eyes had met in the tavern and every time Geralt looked at him ever since. Every song that he had been repressing and every shimmering glow of love in his heart bloomed under Geralt’s kiss. Geralt’s hands wrapped around his waist to pull him closer and Jaskier hummed happily, not noticing the glow that begun to weave around them, the water in the air responding to his call without him even realising it.

They kissed until they couldn’t breathe and then they kissed some more, holding each other close until the dawn began to rise over the horizon and it was time for their adventure to end. ________

Tag list: @alwenarin @slythnerd @davidtennan-t @flippinfricks @awitchersbard @innocentcinnamonpun @marvagon @elliestormfound @geraskier-trashh @panerato @moonysourenza @artistsfuneral @victorieschild @hailhailsatan @pheebs0612

#the witcher #sea witch!jaskier #non-human!jaskier #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #cirilla fiona elen riannon #part of your world #wolfie's witcher writing

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

Dont Leave Camp

Im not entierly happy with the ending but i hope you enjoys it i have a few different imagines im tweaking atm which will hopefully be up within the next couple of days xx

Masterlist

Warnings: spanking, swearing, mentions of periods

A certain witcher punishes you for disobeying him

Dont Leave Camp

You huffed as you sat at the fire with Ciri and Jaskier. Yennefer had gone to the village on the other side of the small wood for something. To be honest you were to busy pouting to listen and Geralt had made his way in the opposite direction to take care of a small contract. You werent staying in the village as there had been an outbreak of a pneumonia it had killed four people then apparently the bodies attracted ghouls who were killing more people who was attracting more ghouls. Vicious cycle when you think about it. Which was what Geralt had been hired to get rid of. So the three of you were confined to the camp. You pulled your new black fur trimmed cloak tighter pushing away the hair that fell into your eyes, you cringed it was soo greasy to the point your scalp hurt. Shifting you grimanced as the other reason you were desperate for a bath made itself known. Thats right your pill had worn off and you had your fucking period which probably wasnt helping your mood. You didnt see any reason why you couldnt quickly have a bath in the village then return but no. Yennefer had put her foot down when you had asked. You tried to argue that your immune system was going to be better than theirs and that you knew the appropriate steps to take but Geralt had stepped in agreeing with her then left ordering you to stay at camp and that you could all bathe in the stream tomorrow. They didnt understand that your used to a much better hygiene routine then the people here. You sighed again seething not even aloud to bathe and Geralt definatly knew why you needed one. Having enough you got up going to your tent grabbing your wash cloth, soap and fresh undergarments leaving your cloak on the bed roll catching both Ciri and Jaskiers attentionas you made your way back out.

"What are you doing?" He asked tentatively

"Im going to find a stream and bathe." You said tersely befor making your way out across camp. Ciri got up befor grasing your arm pulling you back

"But Geralt said its not safe, you should wait untill tomorrow" you sighed and patted her hand.

"Im not waiting i really really really need a bath, im only having a quick rinse ill be about 10 mineuts ,if that? besides im going in the opposite direction to geralt and the ghouls" she didnt look convinced turning to Jaskier for back up

"Why do you even need one that bad you smell fine to me?" He offered a weak argument.

"Why? Ill tell you why iv spent all day sitting in blood stained knickers" you growled out at him ,he went a funny shade of green.

"Right then. 10 mineuts .be back before Geralt." You nodded and patted Ciri's head as you walked past

"No wait y/n i really think you should wait you dont want to make him angry" she tried to convince you to stay

"Ciri i'll be fine ok its not that far" you called over your shoulder as you made your way towards a small stream. You frowned as you went deeper into the wooded area and still couldn't hear the tell tale sound of the stream the camp had quickly dissapeared. It must have been nearly 10 mineuts before you heard it the trickling of water quickening your steps before you heard somthing else. You froze scanning the area with a shiver of fear before stepping backwards. As you heard things moving around in the woods the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. You held your breath as you heard the mix of inhuman growls and bushes and twigs snapping under the weight of what ever it was. Your heart was trying to beat out of your chest. You decided it was time to go back to camp stepping back slowly retracing your steps slowly and quietly. You squeeked out when you saw a hideous creature crawling around the bushes a few feet infront of you quickly spotting another three wandering aimlessly with it. You ducked holding your hand across your mouth trying to quiet your panicking breaths tears flowed freely down your face. You found yourself shaking from quiet sobs as your fear took hold trying to scamper backwards faster. What ever it was began sniffing the air making their way towards you then they found you snapped their gazes locking onto you. You dropped your things hefting your skirt and ran as fast as you could with them on your tail. You screamed as loud as you possibly could trying to get anyones attention looking either side of you as one ran along side you and dived at you, quickly changing direction your thighs burned you jumped over small rocks and logs. You heard them behind you screaming bloody murder as one pounced onto you just clipping your dress you lost your footing crashing to the forest floor skidding down a small slope your vision was blurred with tears as you used the slope to roll up onto your feet staggering and continued running through an opening in the woods you cried out as your foot was snagged again by the one behinde you. Tumbling to the ground you felt its weight on you. Befor you heard an order being barked at you from infront of you.

"HEAD DOWN!!" You obeyed tucking your forhead into the dirt as seconds later you felt a rush of wind across your head the grusome sound of flesh and bone being struck with a blade followed by a gush of warmth on your back. The weight was removed You made to get up only having a foot pressing you back down.

"Stay there!" You could have cried as you saw geralt standing over you staring down the other three things he stepped one foot over you putting you between them feet. They eyed him wearily before all pounceing on him. With ease he twisted around them cutting each one down quickly. He stood back then knelt down collecting you into his arms looking down at you checking to see if you were ok you swore you felt his body tremor but only once.

"Are you hurt?" You shook your head not trusting your voice as you began sobbing into his chest clawing at him he sighed heavily wrapping himself around you tighter. He let you cry yourself out before pulling back scowling at you.The tenderness he had shown was replaced with disapproval and anger.

"What the fuck did i tell you?" He growled at you he shook you by the shoulders you shook your head at him whimpering he grabbed your chin forcing you to look him in the eye

" what .did. i. tell. you?" He grit his teeth as his anger broke throuhg his voice you sniffed placing your hands on his wrist

"G-geralt im sorry" he shook your face lighty his eyes were ablaze and burned into you scalding you with his anger.

"Y-you said not t-to leave camp." You answerd between sniffles

"Thats right i said not to leave camp." He forced you to look at the mix of blood flesh and body parts strewn across the floor.

"Because those ghouls are stalking this whole area , if i hadnt found you they would have ripped you limb from limb, kept you alive as they feasted on you." He explaind as you began sobbing again trying to look away he tightened his grip slightly still carefull not to hurt your jaw.

"No look because thats how i could have found you." Geralt grunted he was unimpressed and realeased your face after a few moments you felt his anger rolling off of him in waves grabbing you by the scruff of your dress and hoisted you to your feet. He growled at you effectively stopping all protest

"where the fuck did you think you were going anyway?"

"I wanted a bath" you said in a small voice. He scowled at you deep as you avoided his gaze.

"So you ignored my orders and warnings about the ghouls and put your life at risk for a bath?"

"....i didnt know that they were this way.... im sorry?" He threw you over his shoulder walking across the clearing.You began wriggling trying to throw of his hold that felt like an iron bar across the back of your waist.

"Geralt im sorry"

"Oh your not sorry ! not yet" he grunted out as he tensed his arm around you.

"WhhaAh" you hissed through your teeth as he stuck your upturned bottom with more force than you'd ever experienced from him before.you put your hands on your throbbing bottom rubbing, tears gatherd in your eyes at the harsh stinging he'd caused.

"I suggest you be quiet" he sat on a stump and lower you to your feet infront of him keeping a firm grip on your wrist. Pulling at his hand looking panicked.

"Geralt, i want to go back to camp." He shook his head at you befor using one hand to unstrap his swords placing them beside him on the floor.

"You dont want me to do this in camp." His words made you stop struggleing. Your eyes grew wide as you realized what he meant when he tugged you across his thigh you bucked at him.

"NO! Nonononono please im sorry! Geralt please you cant! i didnt mean to" He held you firm dragging you skirt high leaving it to pile at the small of your back ignoring your pleas.

"I will put up with a lot but i wont have you putting yourself in dangerous situations like this if i hadn't heard you you'd be dead" He started scolding you as his held you still and struck your rear followed by a second and third each felt like a palm sized brand he quickly laid slaps across the seat of you smalls. You wailed at the instant burning sting, there wasn't a slow build up or easing you in to it. He was only holding back enough of his strength so he wouldnt cause any damage apart from a sore bottom peppered it with heavy spanks. You threw your hands back coving yourself.

"Move your hands" You wriggled against his leg shaking your head he sighed smaking each palm then pulled them up tangling them in your heavy skirt holding them still and laid four much heavier spanks to your bottom. Crying as each one fell onto your swollen bottom you pushed against the floor with your tippy toes trying to make distance between you and his offending palm.

"Geralt pl-please. im o-on my monthly" you called out around hiccups and sobs teribly afraid of bleeding on him.

"Why do you think im leaving these up? you can guarantee you'd be bare if it was any other time." He grunted at you pulling lightly on the material. Unbelievabley even this harsh spanking was setting your body on fire you felt conflicted as your arousal built inside you, it was as if your body was no longer your own, his dominant display managed to control your basic desires even when he was punishing you so thoughrly.

"Ow! Geralt st-sto-op im sorry" he scoffed as he continued his blistering assault on your cheeks before moving to your thighs. You shreiked as he left your sensitive skin deep red and throbbing. Kicking your feet out like a chastised child. He took it in his stride and tucked them under his calf pinning them down.

"Will you stop this bratty behaviour? next time you nearly get yourself killed i will spank you in camp bare do you hear me?" You cried louder flushing when your pussy clenched at the thought of being punished infront of the others.

"Yes yes stop!" You shouted out at him as he left harder swats against your already bruised bottom rocking you forward.

"No more tantrums and when your told to do something you will do it. No more arguing with yennefer either" you nodded weakly and stopped struggling succumbing to him discipline laying limp over him sobbing uncontrollably a mix of yelps sniffing and shaking breaths babbling that you'd be good and wont argue, promising anything if he stopped he huffed continuing untill your skin was a deep red from your knees to the top of your bottom pulling you skirt back down he rubbed your back.

"What you did today was stupid you could have easily died had i not heard you you would have,we wouldn't have even found your body y/n. There would have been nothing of you left." He said but there was somthing in his voice it almost sounded like fear. You sniffed as he rested a heavy hand on your stinging swollen bottom.

"And i mean it you ever do anything like this again and i wont care where we are or whos there youll get a bare assed spanking then and there."

You shrunk knowing full well he meant every word he slowly sat you up on his legs faceing you.

"This is the last time you leave camp alone,from now on you always have some one with you no matter what. When you get back you will aplogize for worrying them." You tucked your head under his chin nodding still sniffing back sobs as your ass and legs burned. He sighed leaning to collect his swords heaving them back into place before standing with you cradled in his arms.

"I can walk" you said meekly he tightend his hold inhaling your scent

"I know i want to hold you...i thought id lost you" Your heart broke alittle at the crack in his voice he must have been worried when he heard you screaming. It took nearly 20 minuets to get back you camp you used the time to collect yourself wiping your swollen eyes and tear stained eyes. Once you got to camp Geralt placed you by the fire you yelped as your bottom made contact with the ground. Ciri gave you a sympathetic smile knowing exactly how you felt. Yennefer rushed beside you pulling you to her in a desperate hug then leant you back holding you at arms legnth.

"What were you thinking? I dont believe you could be so stupid-" her rant was interupted by geralt

"Yenn iv dealt with it" you blushed at his implication as the others heard to she nodded giving you the once over noting your destressed apperance.

"Good." Was all she said then handed you some thick rags

"I got these for you, there for your well... you know.." you smiled a small smile

"Thank you." You took them tucking them in your pack. Geralt cleared his throat looking at you pointedly

"Im sorry i was a brat and for worriying you..all of you i didnt mean to i hope you can forgive me for being such a bitch." Yennefer chuckled and kissed your head

"Thats ok we all have bad days but its all forgiven" you nodded as fresh tears gatherd in your eyes latching onto her and she returned the hug before she pulled back kissing your cheek then sat behind you letting you lean against her you hissed as your bottom slid along the floor. Jaskier took note and blinked at you

"Did he hurt you? Your really quiet" You blushed and dropped your head embarassed Yennefer chuckled and Geralt sighed already knowing where this was headed. Ciri piped up understanding the situation.

"Jaskier leave it" he frowned watching as you kept shifting uncomfortably then gapped laughing.

"He spanked you" you cringed as the word seemed to make your ass throb even more he laughed.

"Shut up! You little shit" you leant over thumping him he let out a manly squeel and tried avoiding you then laughed again

"Ah ah behave yourself or geralt will spank you again for being naughty" you growled and launched yourself at him and you both began wrestling on the floor

"You sound jealous" you quipped as you landed on him pinning him.He yelped and crawled away from you you growled at him as yennefer pulled you to sit beside her , whimpering lightly as you sat on the hard floor you glared at him as he sat down smug snickering at you.

"Jaskier carry on and you'll join her" he stuttered at the witcher before scoffing

"Youd have to catch me first" Geralt smirked and tilted his head.

"That a challenge?" Jaskier bit back any remarks he had making you Ciri and Yennefer chuckle at the meek looking bard.

#geralt of rivia imagine #geralt imagine #geralt x yennefer x you #geralt x yennefer x reader #geralt x modern reader #geralt x y/n #witcher fanfiction #witcher fic #witcher imagine

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where-dreamers-go · 4 years

Text

(Requested) Merlin x Mermaid!Reader

(A/N: Anonymous asked: ‘Hello, could I request a reader insert with Merlin, where she is a magical creature, maybe a Veela or Mermaid. She is being chased and he helps her escape. Perhaps he helps her find a job and everyone is just teases him when they are together or are caught kissing? And maybe from time to time they go In trip away from the city to practice magic together? Just something cute, thank you.’

Thank you again for your request Anon. I had a lot of fun thinking up what a mermaid might be like in Camelot or what kind of mermaid the Reader would be. I ended up mixing a bit from different movies and shows. Something about this insert reader just seemed to flow. I hope you like it. Also this is set around season four.

I feel like it goes from action packed in the beginning to super chill at the end.

Warnings: Attempted mermaid-napping. The beginning has a lot of “Oh, NO! Oh, NO!”, but the rest of the insert reader makes up for that in cuteness and some funnies.

Word Count: 4,556 )

You had been traveling on your own for more than four moon cycles. Of course, you never spent too long away or out of water. Water was essential for life and its cycles.

That was among the many things you wanted to learn and explore while on land.

It was fun, really, being on your own adventure. One where you made choices on a whim and lived for every moment.

You flicked the end of your aquatic tail. With a smile, you watched how the water rippled and flowed passed. Each droplet gathered with another in their oneness. It was beautiful, natural, magic.

Head abruptly snapping to attention with a straight back, your smile disappeared.

Danger.

You looked over your shoulder and alarm struck you.

Men. Rugged and alerting more of their people that you did not want to see.

You pulled yourself out of the water, tail shedding and shifting. Hastily, you slipped on a pair of soft shoes, pulled the skirt of your dress further down, grabbed your only bag, stood up, and ran the opposite direction from the shouting men.

You were thankful for traveling light.

Blurs of greens and browns passed the sides of your vision as you ran. Water still dripping down your skin. You were careful and aware of your footing for you could not lose the small lead you had.

Their shouting behind you became more aggravated, tired, and desperate. Hungry for a prize. They were not stopping.

There was always a high price for mermaids, especially during the warmer months. Humans held their own beliefs and ideas of mermaids. You were not about to let any of them find out which beliefs were true. Not the distrustful humans at least.

Tripping a step, you managed to remain upright to continue running. You weren’t sure how much longer you could evade them. Even as you wove around trees, they were still extremely close behind. Any second could change your fate.

The land in front of you dipped down into a slope. Heartbeat pounding in your ears, you slowed your gait just enough to land your footing safely. Again, you had to be quite conscious.

A rush of cold terror and air surrounded you as a heavy body collided against your back. Tumbling and sliding, you landed on flat ground.

Energy of fear and determination fueled you to scramble to your feet. Your bag swinging by your side.

“No!” You cried as the man on the ground lunged at your legs. Catching an ankle in his filthy hands.

The shouting of the men doubled. More than five of them racing down the green slope.

Your throat burned and your stomach felt sickly hot.

This would not be your end.

You kicked and stomped. Heels contacting the man’s wrists.

Cold raced through veins, but it was not your powers. Fear. Sheer terror filled you even as another man managed to take your arm into his vice grip.

“NO!” You shouted. Surely, that was their language.

Your fist collided against a man’s shoulder, there was netting hanging from his back.

The hit, the kicks, and the screaming did no good against them. It was a struggle you were starting to lose as more humans surrounded you with determination and selfish eyes. Hungry for riches.

A grin full of greed was presented in front of you. The same man who had tackled you down. Someone handed him a section of net.

“No,” you urged.

Where was their empathy? Their compassion?

Crrr—CRACK

You looked up to the tree canopy.

CRASH—thump

There laid a large branch atop of the man—on the ground.

Was that luck…or something else?

The large group of dirt-covered men only took a second of silence before tugging to free the net, which laid tangled in the branch.

You took the opportunity to kick the person bruising your arm. He grunted, but did not release his hold.

Shouts came from beside you as three men were pulled through the air before slamming into separate tree trunks.

It was not luck. Definitely not.

You knew magic when you saw it. Tired or not, you knew.

Chaos erupted through the remainder of the group as they bolted. Scattering themselves back into the green foliage like crabs on the shoreline.

Tugging your arm, the man refused to let go.

Selfish, desperate eyes. He yanked you towards him in his need to run. To keep a possible profit.

You dug your heels into the ground, dirt shifting underneath the soles of your shoes.

The man gritted his teeth as he pulled again.

Thonk

A rock, about the size of your fist, flew against the man’s head.

Expression blank, the man fell.

You were free.

Stumbling back, you put distance between you and the unconscious man. You turned around to survey the area. Trees and other foliage as before. That was—until you eyed a head peering from around a tree trunk. Another human.

The human, a young man by the look of the ease of his walk, emerged from behind the tree in long strides.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“I am now.” You answered, ears trained for another ambush.

He nodded, “That’s good.”

Dressed in earthy browns, red, and blue, he walked closer. He was not adored with glittering rocks like nobility, but there was a power about him. An earthly power—no…more.

You allowed yourself to smile then.

“Thank you, Emrys.”

The young man stopped short, in midst of offering his hand. Eyes wide and vulnerable. Blue shades of the ocean on a bright afternoon.

“Are…are you a druid? Was that why—?”

“No,” you answered simply, “I am a mermaid. Not a druid.”

“…Oh.”

You smiled again.

“Er…,” Emrys’ eyes explored your face for a moment. “We should leave—the bandits might come back.”

“No, no—they can not.” You looked over at the unconscious men. “They ran away.”

“They’re thick in the head. I’ll bring you somewhere safe. I promise.”

You swallowed, the hammering of your heart had steadied after the first bandits had ran off.

“I trust you.” You stepped up to the dark-haired sorcerer. If there was one being you knew to trust, it was him.

His smile was soft even as he double checked the bandits before gesturing for you to follow him.

Keeping a pace similar to the beating of a heart, the two of you trekked through the forest.

Emrys kept an eye on you. Probably making sure you did not fall behind.

You were more than grateful for his appearance and even more so that he helped you escape. Additionally, that you were lucky to had hydrated yourself when you did.

“Emrys,” you called, “where are we traveling?”

“To Camelot.”

“Camelot?” You gave him a concerned look, even as a mermaid you knew of the kingdom. “Magic is outlawed in Camelot, Emrys.”

“I know, but there are good people. People I trust.”

“And what of Camelot’s king?”

“He’s a great king—Arthur.”

“King Arthur does not know you have magic?”

“No,” he said quickly. “Definitely not. It’d be best if you didn’t mention it. Not to anyone.”

You placed a hand over your heart.

“I promise to keep your magic a secret, Emrys.”

“Ah—um. Thank you….Also I go by Merlin not Emrys. Emrys is what the druids call me.”

“Merlin,” you tested the name. “I like it.”

The sorcerer sent you a bright smile. Genuine and full of light.

. . .

Fields of long grass greeted you as you walked closer to the city’s stone walls. Strategically piled stones rose as high as mature trees in the woods. Like towering corals teeming with life.

Once inside the gates, Merlin lead you along stone paths until you were passing through wooden doorways. Not one human giving you a second glance.

“Here we are.” Merlin announced as he allowed you entrance into a well lived-in area. Bottles, containers, seating, and paper. A single door at the far end. A very human home.

“It’s wonderful.” You smiled. It was only proper to compliment his home.

“It’s home.” He had walked over the right side of the room, at some sort of station.

Water. Many drops spilling as an echo in a small cup.

“Here,” he offered the cup.

You accepted it gratefully. The running and extra traveling was an unexpected exertion on your body. You drank happily. It was exactly what you needed.

Drinking from his own cup, there were questions running through his blue eyes.

You smiled and said, “You may ask.”

His dark eyebrows rose for only a second before he set down his cup.

“How long can you be out of water?”

“As my knowledge serves me, I need to drink water often or enough to remain healthy. It helps i—.”

The front door opened as an older man with white hair stepped inside. Wide-eyed and raised eyebrows at the sight of you before he immediately turned to the young sorcerer.

“Merlin,” said the old man.

You hoped that your presence had not brought trouble to the sorcerer. You would certainly take your leave if it did.

“Ah…Gaius, this is…ah,” Merlin looked to you with widening eyes.

“My name is (Y/N).” You said to the man presumably named Gaius. Smiling, you stepped forward and offered him your hand.

As customary for humans, he grabbed your hand and gave it a short shake.

“I am Gaius, the court physician. It’s good to meet you.” He smiled shortly before eyeing Merlin.

“I saved her from bandits.” The young man announced.

“Bandits?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “most unfriendly.”

“I see.” Gaius crossed his arms over his chest. “So you didn’t gather the herbs I asked for?”

Merlin cleared his throat and spoke lowly, “Sorry Gaius.”

“Yes, well I needed those herbs for the lord’s eye treatment. At least you two are safe.”

Again, you smiled. You were unsure what to say around the court physician. If Merlin did not give specifics then it was logically unsafe for you to do so.

“Well, I should show (Y/N) around,” Merlin quickly walked over to you and gently took the empty cup out of your hand. “See you later, Gaius.” He moved to set the cup down and returned to the door as he steered you out with him.

Merlin sighed loudly as the pair of you took a route further away from his home and Gaius.

Your bag padded lightly against your side as you walked through the stone structure. The walls were made to last, to shelter, and protect. Yet closed its inhabitants off from the world. You wondered how a sorcerer could live in such an environment, in hiding no less. There must truly be something about Camelot that you were unaware of for him to live safely.

Turning a corner, your eyes were given their first view of the inner workings of a castle. Many people walking upon their two feet progressing through the available space.

“Em—,” you caught the rest of the name in your throat. “Merlin? I am grateful for your help and do not wish to offend…, but are you certain safety is here? Your court physician….you did not tell him what you had done.”

“Right,” Merlin looked to you as you both joined the flow of people. “He knows who I am. You can trust him.”

“Then why did you not tell him how you had helped me?”

His eyes trained forward, watching as he lead you through halls that were lit by large open sections where sunlight was free to enter.

“I thought—…I thought that he might have overreacted or…might have asked too many questions,” he glanced over to you. “You need to be protected.”

“I can handle questions, Merlin. Even the concerned ones. I promise I will not dry up at the too many questions.” You laughed lightly. There was no need for him to suffer twice through worrying.

Small smiles were shared. Quiet and trying to assure the other of security.

“I greatly appreciate what you have done for me, truly.” You offered your hand to formally introduce yourself. “It is great to meet you, Merlin.”

“It’s good to meet you, (Y/N).” He shook your hand lightly.

“I had forgotten to tell you my name. I apologize.”

“There were bandits. You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

Still walking, he released your hand. A brightness returning to him after sharing words.

He has a good heart, you thought. Certainly grows attachments quickly.

Though you had no idea what section of the castle you were in, you were quietly enjoying Merlin’s company.

The young sorcerer turned down another hall and soon was murmuring something under his breath.

You followed his line of sight to three men with long drapes of red fabric behind them walking over to the pair of you. Three sets of eyes held you in their sights of interest.

“Hello, Merlin,” the man with skin of dark earthly tones greeted.

“Merlin.” The tallest one smiled.

“Ah, Merlin,” a third man smiled sweetly to you after nodding at the young man beside you. “Would you do the honor of introducing the lovely lady.” There was a curiosity and heavy glint of playfulness in his eyes.

“Gwaine.” Merlin took a step closer to you, “this is (Y/N). (Y/N), meet Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival.”

“Hello, it is an honor to meet you three.” You said, extending a hand.

“A pleasure,” Gwaine said as he took your hand and lent down to place his lips over your knuckles.

That is a new greeting, you thought with a tilt of your head.

Beside you, Merlin cleared his throat audibly.

You looked to Merlin briefly as Gwaine released your hand.

The three men in front of you were sharing looks between one another and Merlin. Amusement and questions in their eyes. The sorcerer on the other hand was seemingly disapproving the man’s actions.

Perhaps the greeting was inappropriate? I hope not. Gwaine seems to be friendly. Merlin seems to know them well, based on their behavior. It would also seem safe to start conversation. I hope.

“Merlin was showing me through the castle,” you said, breaking their silent talk. “Camelot is very lovely.”

“Are you new to Camelot, then?” Asked Elyan, kindly.

“I am.”

“What brought you to Camelot?”

“Merlin.”

The men looked to said man.

“I was being chased by bandits.”

Their gazes snapped back to you.

“Merlin helped me get away from them. I am very grateful to him.”

“That was brave of you, Merlin.” Said Percival, “You are both unhurt, I hope.”

“We’re fine, thank you.” Merlin nodded.

“What were you doing out there, Merlin?”

“Collecting herbs for Gaius.”

“You forgot the herbs, Merlin?” Elyan asked with a smirk.

“He did,” Percival said.

“I would too and I don’t blame him.” Gwaine sent you a smile. “It would happen to the best of us, Merlin."

Merlin gave a pointed look to the man as the others chuckled.

They have similar attire, I wonder if they are of important status in the kingdom. They are wearing a great number of metal.

“Arthur has been looking for you.” Elyan added after his laughter subsided.

Merlin made a noise in his throat.

You looked to him.

“Why would the king be looking for you?” You asked in a hushed tone. “Are you in trouble?”

“I’m not in trouble,” Merlin reassured you quickly. “I’m the king’s manservant.”

“Oh.”

Oh my. That wasn’t anything that I imagined. He sure is full of surprises.

“Better see what he wants.” Merlin said, placing a hand on the small of your back and leading you around the three men.

“It was lovely to meet you three,” you said, bowing your head shortly.

“The pleasure was ours, my lady.” Gwaine bowed.

The sorcerer kept his pace with your beside him.

“We need to find Gwen.”

“Who?”

“Gwen. She’s a friend of mine.” Merlin explained shortly, “you need somewhere to stay. I’m hoping she can help us—you.”

I had not thought of that. Shelter, and shelter for a mermaid. This seems worrying. You thought as you hurried along with Merlin’s steps. There must not be room where Merlin sleeps.

“You are not going to find the king?”

. . .

Guinevere was a woman with a bright smile and intelligent eyes. She was in-between duties when Merlin found her and introduced you two.

Merlin was much more careful with his words when explaining how he helped you and had even asked her if you could stay with her. He had asked on your behalf.

Ever since he had rescued you, Merlin had been taking full responsibility without a second thought. How selfless could someone be?

Though you were a complete stranger to her, Gwen agreed.

Your palms became clammy. You needed to trust Merlin’s judgement.

. . .

In a matter of days, you learned how to entrust Merlin and Gwen completely. They were no strangers to living and working in Camelot. The pair had managed to help you set up selling your craft items in the market. You had to reassure Merlin that you could craft more than just shell-adored items.

You wondered if they had done the same for another before you.

Living with Gwen was a test in unknown waters at first. She had lived alone with a space of her own. She did not have to take you in, but she did. She gave you shelter and a place to sleep. It was only right that you kept it clean and tidy for her in return between bringing in coin from your sales.

Your first night might have been lacking of sleep, but you had got on well with Gwen. She seemed to get on well with most people in the city. For kindness alone, you were grateful.

As far as friends, Gwen was an excellent friend to have. Although, she was more observant and aware than most humans you had encountered. That made hiding your tail and abilities more stressful at moments than you would had liked. She at least did not question the amount of water you drank each day.

The day had been profitable and fun. Having sold a great deal of your items, you were in a light-spirited mood. You were more confident in knowing that citizens liked your products enough to purchase them. The trinkets were new for the people of Camelot. You were glad to share your creativity.

Finding your way back to where Merlin and Gaius resided, you knocked lightly on the wooden door.

It was around time for a noon meal. You had already eaten and hoped that the pair would not mind your company. Even after seeing many people walking around the market, you were wanting to see your favorite sorcerer.

“(Y/N).” Merlin’s smile greeted you as he opened the door and let you inside.

“Hello,” you beamed and quickly reached up to place a corded necklace around his neck before walking into the room. “Hello, Gaius.”

“Hello, my dear.” Gaius greeted from his place at the table. “Have you eaten?”

“I have, thank you.”

An empty bowl sat across from the older man’s.

“How are you today, Gaius?” You asked, standing beside the table.

“I’m well. Busy as every day. How did your sales go this morning?”

“Much better.”

To your right, Merlin stood with a hand plucking at the necklace. A small, cleaned fossil hung from it.

“Is there anything you need, Merlin?”

“Ah…what is this? Thank you—for the necklace, but…but what is this little…?” The rock-like charm fumbled between his fingers.

“It’s a fossil fr—…I found it some time ago.”

“Er..thank you. Again,” Merlin’s feet soon took him to gather the dirty dishes and hastily clean them.

It was quiet inside other than the scrubbing and clanking from where Merlin was cleaning. That was not the only time you had almost given too much information about yourself away to the wind. You figured that it was still alright regardless.

“Are there any chores you still need to complete, Merlin?” You asked the first question you could think of. It was safe to believe that the young man was always busy.

“Cleaning and polishing Arthur’s armor.” He answered from over his shoulder.

You hummed as you started towards the sorcerer’s room.

“The armor is most likely filthy,” you mused.

Hurried steps followed behind you as you entered the small bedroom. As soon as you walked in you had to stop because of the mess of metal littering the floor. With careful steps, you managed to sit on the edge of the bed without any mishaps.

Merlin slowly shut the door behind him as he came into the room.

“I can help you if you’d like.”

“I can handle it.” He assured you.

Stepping around the arranged pieces, he made himself comfortable in the middle of all of the armor. Immediately he began picking up the necessary supplies and got started with cleaning and polishing the metals.

Without a word, you sat down onto the floor with him. Being that you were usually occupied with your own business ventures, you scarcely got to watch Merlin’s daily activities. And from the looks of it, it involved a lot of cleaning up after the king.

Later, Gaius walked into the room with a cup. Rather than giving it to Merlin, who was hard at work, he handed it to you.

“Here, you need to stay hydrated, my dear.” Gaius stated as he handed you a cup of water.

“Thank you.” You said, carefully taking the cup from him.

He walked away, out into the open area after closing the bedroom door.

“Merlin?”

“Hmm?”

“How did Gaius find out that I am a mermaid?”

“Er…this is not his first time around magical beings.”

“I use too many shells in the jewelry?”

“What? No! I mean…Gaius figured that was it and,” Merlin’s lips pressed together tightly. “He asked. I told him about the bandits and he figured the rest out. I’m sorry. I should have asked.”

“Do you trust him? Fully?”

“I do.”

“Then so do I.” You took a sip of the water.

“You have a lot of faith in me.”

“Of course I do.”

He set down the rag. Taking a deep breath, he looked to you.

“Because I’m Emrys?”

“Yes, but more than that. Just as I know that you are Emrys, I know that there is great good in you and a great capacity for love and empathy. I trust that as well.”

“You’ve hardly known me.”

“Does that matter?”

“I guess not?” Merlin shrugged, a smile on his lips as he picked up the rag again.

As quiet settled down between the pair of you, you took on studying how the dark hair on his head seemed to want to curl in odd places, however lacked the length.

“Do you only speak with me because I am a mermaid?” You asked.

“What? No. No, I—you…” Merlin turned to you completely, “it doesn’t matter to me. You are a kind person. Whether you have magic or not doesn’t matter. I still like you.”

You smiled.

“What?” His voice was low, softer.

“Your eyes say much more than your words, Merlin.”

He ducked his head.

“I appreciate you.” You whispered.

As more days followed, you and Merlin were getting along very well. Even little misunderstandings couldn’t hold you a part after it was resolved. His company was most welcome.

Even as Merlin was sitting down on a bench while the knights did some training, you sat beside him as he sharpened a sword.

The Knights would begin their teasing of Merlin when he was with you. It was light and often lead to Merlin’s eyebrows raising. The teasing did not bother you—you used it against them some of the time. This often resulted in surprising Merlin and the knights.

On one occasion however, With a hand on his shoulder, you kissed Merlin’s cheek in front of the sparring knights.

A new change was brought about.

Merlin’s eyes widened for a brief moment.

You, on the other hand, turned your attention back to watch the knights as your smirk was visible for all to see.

It was in that moment, that the knights knew that you could just as easily counter their teasing. And you were sure that they approved of you even more that day.

. . .

Birds chirped and water danced between the trees. A secluded area of the woods near an abandoned village was deemed the perfect location for both you and Merlin to practice using magic. Credit of finding the spot went solely to Merlin. You had no idea where he found the time.

Taking a much needed break, you had submerged your lower half into the water of a small river as Merlin continued to practice a spell.

Being able to use your natural abilities was like breathing had become easier. Not using them often was equal to Sir Gwaine ignoring his ability to walk or Gwen ignoring her ability to speak her mind.

It seemed so long since the last time you were able to relax in natural waters. Allowing the energies to seep into your skin and curve around you. Learning about the world on land had its share of disadvantages.

Splashing the water with the end of your tail, you returned your gaze to the sorcerer. Focused and self-trained. You loved watching him use magic. How his cerulean eyes sparked golden and he shone in his true self. Magic.

Gently dropping the stones to the ground, Merlin walked over to you. The moist ground lightly giving way under each step. He sat down along the edge of the river beside you, keeping himself as dry as possible. Most of which was impossible given that you had sent a bobble of water to his side earlier.

You smiled at him. Meeting his eyes again, you found them soft, vulnerable, and deeply loving. Traits that you valued in beings. Leaning over, you kissed his cheek. You were soon greeted by his bright and soft grin.

With a long intake of air, you rested your head on his shoulder, sighing to yourself.

“You have a strong heart, Merlin.” You whispered.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Though you were there to learn, Merlin was exactly what you needed.

~~~

(I know this insert reader was requested some time in January and I do wish that I was able to finish it sooner, however it probably would not have turned out the same at all. A lot has been going on since February…, but hey! I hope you enjoyed it and that you are doing well. I wrote a big chuck of the beginning after I got the request and made a little background information about the kind of mermaids there might have been there, which was really fun. Again, thank you. I’m sorry Gwen didn’t really have a scene… :/

If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle @pilindielofgondor )

#merlin x reader #merlin fanfic #bbc merlin x reader #bbc merlin fanfiction #bbc merlin #Merlin #Camelot #requested #where dreamers go #merlin insert reader #mermaid #in a land of myth and a time of magic #the last dragonlord #magic #April 2020

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jabbajambler · 3 years

Text

Human

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x f!OC

Word Count: 2,123

*GIF by JStarrC*

"Get up." Mando growled.

He had been up for nearly an hour while I tried to fall back asleep. His incessant pacing kept me up and his boots kicked sand on me with his heavy, restless steps.

For the last hour, he kept trying to get me up on my feet. I was exhausted and while the sand wasn't quite as nice of a bed as the ones the Ugnaught offered us, it was comforting.

I groaned and pushed his foot away, squeezing my eyes shut as the blinding sun rose in the sky.

"Five more minutes..."

He was suspiciously quiet after that. I could practically hear the gears turn in his head. His quiet sigh was relaxing, almost like a peaceful white noise that lulled me back to sleep.

Unfortunately it didn't last long.

I hardly had any time to react before he threw me over his shoulder. My eyes shot open and I soon started kicking my legs and punching his back. With his armor, I'm pretty sure it hurt me more than it hurt him.

"MANDO, I SWEAR IF YOU DON'T PUT ME DOWN-"

He dropped me.

Right there, on the ground.

I gasped, feeling the wind knocked out of my lungs for the brief moment. And he had the audacity to laugh at me?

I grabbed his foot and pulled it from under him, smiling to myself as he fell face-first on the ground.

"You are the worst." I hissed and grabbed the edge of the child's pod, pulling it behind me as I stomped through the sand.

"Wake up the first time then." Mando grumbled as he quickly caught up.

Something about the combination of being woken up so abruptly and his sassiness caused a fury of anger to bubble up inside of me. I turned sharply on my heel, glaring up into his helmet that revealed nothing but a blinding glare from the sun.

"You're only here because I chose to bring you along, you know? If I wanted to, I could have-"

"Killed me?" He interjected.

"Easily." I poked his chest roughly, forcing him to stumble back.

We continued on the journey in a constant state of bickering and complaining about one another. For someone who was so quiet, he certainly had a lot to say about how annoying I was. I could easily say the same for him.

"And another thing, Mando-"

"Be quiet."

"Excuse me?" My eyebrows raised and my hands landed on my hips as I stared at him.

He turned to look at me, clearly annoyed. It's funny how easy his body posture was to read. In our silence, quiet chattering noises over the hill erupted. I guess he did actually hear something.

We crouched down by the ledge, overlooking the Razor Crest and the tiny cloaked beings that surrounded it. He grabbed his telescope to peer down at the scene, but it was pretty obvious what was happening. The Razor Crest was being torn apart, its pieces being loaded up into a large fortress.

"Jawas." I groaned and sat back in the sand, watching as Mando grabbed his rifle and aimed it at the little pests.

The Jawa screamed as it disintegrated, hit by the rifle's blast. Mando grabbed another bullet and loaded it into the gun. He looked into the scope, taking his aim once again.

"You have to show me how to use that one of these days." I gawked, watching his precision with the weapon.

"I thought you were done with me." Mando teased.

My jaw went slack as I struggled to come up with another witty remark. "I'm done with you, not the gun."

The Jawas were running back to their crawling fort, leaving pieces of the ship scattered around. Mando fired again, another Jawa disappearing into oblivion. One daring Jawa held a small blaster in its hand, firing randomly into the air.

I laughed when Mando shot that one down as well.

The last of the Jawas loaded into their fort, closing their ramp behind them. Mando hopped up and with a short glance, we silently agreed to chase after it.

Mando kneeled, aiming his rifle at the back of the fort.

"That's not going to work!" I shouted.

Just as I suspected, it didn't do anything.

Mando sighed and tossed the rifle down, running after it again while I was hot on his trail. He jumped up and grabbed onto the side of the vehicle, grunting as he pulled himself up. I could hear him gulp when he looked down at the large tires beneath him.

I followed him, latching onto the wall. "Move it or lose it!"

I tapped his foot, pressuring him to move further up the fortress. His slight jump made it seem like he hadn't even known I followed him up.

"What are you doing?!" He shouted down to me as we climbed up the side.

"Helping! It's my ride too, you know?" I poked his foot again. "Now climb faster! I don't feel like dying."

The Jawas sped the vehicle up, closing in on a large wall of rock that would soon crush the two of us. My eyes widened as I stared at my ultimate, untimely death.

A hand wrapped around my arm and pulled me up before I could be crushed by the rock. A pair of arms wrapped tight around me, holding my body tight against them. I looked up to find the Mandalorians shiny helmet staring at me.

I could feel his heartbeat with my face pressed to his neck. For someone who purposely put himself in dangerous situations, his heart was racing. I'm surprised he hasn't gone into cardiac arrest if he gets this nervous every time he's in a life-threatening situation.

The Jawas immediately started throwing scraps at us once we passed the rock. Mando released me from his grasp, helping me stand with him on the ledge.

"Stay here." He demanded.

"Don't you dare tell me what to do." I snapped. Still, I stayed because it was the safest option for the both of us.

He grabbed onto the bolts on the wall of the fort, scaling it as fast as he could. He reached up and grabbed onto the ledge of an open window, but a Jawa quickly shut it, forcing him to let go and nearly fall from the side.

Mando shot his grapple up at the top, holding onto it while he moved his feet flat against the wall. After a moment, he began his slow ascent up towards the obnoxious little creatures.

Each step he took made my heart drop to my stomach.

Jawas continued to throw scrap metal at him, one going so far as to jabbing him with an electric prod through a window. He grabbed the Jawa angrily and threw it to the ground. My eyes followed its body as it fell, wincing as it hit the dirt with a thud.

He finally pulled himself to the top of the fort, standing on its ledge. I was hoping he would try to talk civilly with them, but that wasn't necessarily his approach to anything.

He grabbed his blaster, but it was too late. They all shot their tasers at him, I could practically see the electric currents flowing through his body. Stunned, he fell backwards from the fort, landing on a large rock below.

My heart stopped for a moment as he fell. In my eyes, it all happened in slow motion.

"MANDO- ... You absolute dumbass." I growled and hopped down from the fort, skillfully landing to only gain a few scratches and possible bruises on my elbows.

I ran over to his lifeless body, a flurry of worries filling my mind as I came closer to him. I kneeled next to him, hovering my hands over his armor. While I desperately wanted to check him for a pulse or any sign that he was alive, I would only be shocked if I touched him right now.

I had to sit back and wait for the electricity to die down. I tried to see if I could feel something- anything - just by being near him, but I couldn't.

The child's pod caught up with us, floating nearby. I looked over at the tiny alien and gently rubbed its ear. He was nervous and almost sad.

"He'll be fine..." I whispered.

But even I didn't believe my own words.

┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉

The wind finally blew through the desert, my hair quickly becoming tangled behind me as it came loose from my ponytail. Strands of hair stuck to my sweaty face. I was starting to feel gross and sticky. After everything we had to face on the trip, I was in desperate need of a bath.

I looked down at Mando and sighed, pressing my hand to his chest. It had been a few hours and the shock had finally worn down. His pulse was there, but it was slow.

I focused my energy, keeping my breathing steady and pressing harder against his chest. He was injured and I wasn't sure how much longer he would have made it without my help. I obviously couldn't take the armor or helmet off so I had to use the next best thing.

It was a struggle at first, I was a bit out of practice, but eventually, he began to stir. I quickly pulled my hand back. Tingles rolled through my arm after giving him a sliver of my life.

The child's ears perked up and a large smile snuck onto my face as he struggled to sit up. I wiped away the grin as soon as he looked in my direction, maintaining my usual resting face instead.

"You're awake." I stated simply, trying not to sound too excited. It didn't work too well. The corners of my mouth quirked up again, daring to reveal the smile I hid from him.

"No shit." He groaned. There was a beat of silence, the only sound was his heavy breaths as he regained his strength.

I stood and held my hand out to him, offering to help him up from his spot on the ground.

"I'm, uh... glad you're not dead."

He let out an airy, pained chuckle and took my hand. I could feel a small shock go through my arm as I helped him to his feet. My hand lingered longer than it should have, feeling the soft leather of his glove.

"Let's go see the damage." He spoke, bringing me back to reality.

I tore my hand from his and nodded, beginning to walk back towards the ship side-by-side with the child close behind.

We arrived at the remains of the Razor Crest, the sun setting once again. I really didn't want to spend another day on this planet, but it didn't seem like we were leaving anytime soon.

Mando threw open the doors to the circuit box, watching the wires spark and short circuit in front of him. He sighed and slammed the doors shut, continuing on his search for something salvageable on board.

He walked towards the cockpit, wires crackling around him. I kept my distance, following a few feet behind for a while until I hid in the belly of the ship.

The engine was failing to start, sputtering and shutting down. My heart ached for him. This ship was all he had.

The ladder creaked and turned to watch Mando climb down. He glanced over at me and at the small space next to me. I nodded and tried to scoot over as much as I could when he sat next to me.

It was a tight squeeze, but neither one of us minded. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, it was just abnormal for him to voluntarily be so close. Besides, even if it was uncomfortable, he was far more concerned with everything else.

"I think it just needs a fresh coat of paint." I joked, turning to look at him with a nervous smile.

He sighed, but chuckled, nodding his head. "Yeah, that'll do it."

There was a soft coo from the corner of the room, both of us looking over to see the child sitting with its eyes wide and ears perked up. A lightbulb went off in my head.

"Do you think the Ugnaught would help us?"

"Huh..." He chuckled again. "Never thought I'd see the day that you would have a good idea." He teased and stood up, grabbing the child and walking towards the back ramp of the Razor Crest.

"What is that supposed to mean? You've known me for four days!" I jumped up and ran after them. "Wonder if he has a brain under that dumb shiny helmet."

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x oc #mandalorian #mandalorian x oc #din djarin #din djarin x oc #dyn jarren #jedi #oc #star wars #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #babyyoda

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hesesols · 4 years

Text

The Good Life

“Stop seducing me in front of my daughter!”

Day 1 of IR month 2020

Prompt: Once Upon A Dream

Word count: 2.5K

"You're pathetic!"

Grimmjow grouses from his perch among the low-lying branches of the cherry blossom tree. The erratic movement causes a shower of pink petals to descend. Carried by the wind, the rainfall of petals flutters and trails along the faces of both father and daughter before succumbing to the pull of gravity, kissing the earth and becoming one with the world again- heralding the beginning of spring with their fall from grace.

The circle of life is full of stolen moments, enshrined in the poetry of flowers and their decay; each one unique, each one fleeting, tender and surreal- no two ever the same for man or time.

Violet eyes widen at the sight of them.

Clapping her hands excitedly, his youngest tugs at him, pointing out the bright colours to him, making funny little noises as she jabbers gibberish. Her enthusiasm is infectious but Ichigo is frowning as he dusts off the pesky things.

He should have never let Rukia talk him into planting them in the gardens, now every spring is just a personal reminder of how big brother is always watching. Byakuya has eyes everywhere, even at his own backyard. That has certainly proven to put a damper on the mood when he's trying to have a few moments of uninterrupted bliss with his wife.

"Hmph."

His non-committal grunt deepens Grimmjow's scowl. Feline grace marks his leap as he jumps off the tree and lands perfectly next to Ichigo.

"Don't just sit there on your fat ass and hmph, you lazy fuck! Get up and fight me! I swear you get lazier every fucking time I see you."

Ichigo snarls, hastily covering his daughter's ears as he glares.

"Oi! Language, asshole!"

Fatherhood mellowed him out pretty nicely but that doesn't mean he isn't a hot minute away from throwing hands with that blue-haired freak if it comes to that. Especially if his little girl's first word turned out to be a swear word because of someone's potty mouth.

"You do this every month," Ichigo rolls his eyes, shifting his hold on his daughter when she starts wriggling on his lap, "Give it up already, Grimmjow! I'm not going to fight you! Come back next month, maybe you'll get lucky."

"C'mon!"

Grimmjow swears that he's not fraternizing with the enemy here. Lines and loyalties are clearly drawn between Shinigamis and Arrancars. He simply laments the fall of a fellow warrior. How the mighty have fallen!

When and how exactly did the saviour of the three realms get reduced into this?

This... blob of passivity and stagnancy?

He eyes the baby- cherubic, rosy cheeks, bright eyes; the root of all evil, the devil dressed in a bunny onesie- with something akin to apprehension in his gaze and feels a shudder running down his spine; to think that a hero will willingly bend the knee and let himself grow weak for this insufferable… creature that does nothing but sleep, eat and poo all day.

It gurgles at him, makes an attempt to grab at him with her grubby hands and he flinches, hissing as he backs away instinctively.

Truly children and babies, especially babies, are the worst!

He briefly contemplates if he will get away with it if he snatches the creature away from her father's hands and runs for the hills the minute he did. That should teach the punk a lesson! It could work in theory, he muses- a Garganta with one hand, hell spawn in the other. Diabolical plan in the works, his lips curled into a smirk as he creeps forward. He'd like to think that he almost got away with it too if he hadn't made the rookie mistake of looking into Ichigo's eyes.

If looks could kill, Ichigo's glare would have been sharp enough to cut him down a million times over.

"Don't even think about it!"

A father's instinct to protect run deep and being parent to a pair of rambunctious pre-schoolers means that hardly anything surprises him anymore. Nothing- especially not a sneak attack aimed at his youngest- gets by him. His grip tightens as he cradles the tiny body against him. Grimmjow is a dead man if he takes another step forward.

Of course not everyone appreciates his efforts. Hisaki, for one- the literal baby of the family and already a full-fledged Kurosaki when it comes to getting things done her way- is not amused by the tight hold. She squirms, pouts and makes an angry face at her father while she makes persistent attempts to lunge at the other man.

"Urhhh-urhh…”

Baby talk is hardly the most eloquent of speeches but Ichigo tries. Her pinched face as she gestures wildly and wills him to let her loose is entirely too precious to be ignored. The doting father follows her line of vision and snorts when he notices her fixated stare at Grimmjow's colourful hair. Okay, so maybe Rukia was on to something when she said that Kurosakis are born with little to no sense to recognize danger and run from it.

He laughs, kissing Hisaki's cute button nose.

Maybe when she's older. Right now, he doesn't even trust Renji with her and that man's got years of experience in dealing with children compared to the almost-feral Arrancar in front of him.

Gently, he bunny kisses her chubby cheeks, blowing raspberries against them until her attention shifts and he becomes the focus of those big violet eyes again. She giggles- delightful little sounds that melts his heart down and has him smitten all over again since the day he first held her.

Bloodlines don't lie and she is perfect- a blend of Rukia and him sieved and condensed into this little bundle of joy. Don't get him wrong, he loves all his children equally but fathers are allowed certain liberties in playing favourites, especially when it comes to their baby daughters.

He runs a hand through her hair- soft, orange tufts that smell like baby shampoo dipped in an assortment of syrupy goodness, honeyed, sweet; heaven on earth- but that face, that pointy little chin and those unworldly eyes that gleam in the dying day; that's all Rukia.

His baby girl is going to be a heartbreaker someday, just like her mother and Ichigo is both a little excited and worried at the prospect. Someday, he thinks; the line of boys queuing up for her love and affection is going to be long enough to go round Seireitei and he needs to be prepared- will have to keep his blade sharp and ready if only for better crowd control.

As if to ease his troubled thoughts, his daughter yawns and snuggles her tired little head against him. Well- he adjusts his hold, wrapping both hands around her. He is getting ahead of himself there. For now, this is already enough excitement for the one-year-old and clearly past her naptime.

He eyes his long-time rival- deeply scowling with no signs of leaving any time soon.

"You're never going to leave until I say yes, aren't you?"

"Damn straight!"

"Fine! Just let me put her to bed first."

He slips in through the back door, wanders inside the house with his bare feet.

The pictures on the wall, silly little knick-knacks from the Living World decorating the shelves- the story of a life he built together with Rukia. A mishmash of new and old; the past and present- still them but better, fuller, happier with each other- of them on their honeymoon, of them at the Ishida's wedding, of them with Chad as he opened his veterinary clinic, the happy little family at the birth of each child, of his eldest's hatsu-zekku, and the most recent picture taken with their extended family- Shibas, Kurosakis, Kuchikis brought together to celebrate Hisaki's first hinamasturi.

Pockets of happiness preserved in stillness. Each one infinitely more precious than ever; chronicles of their evolving journey through life together. The sheer joy, the softness in their eyes; he can't help but mirror and smile back.

"Let me guess? He won't leave until you fight him?"

He looks up from the smiling faces frozen in time to see his reason for being. Sunshine filters through the open window from the kitchen and his breath catches. He sees her gilded and golden, crowned by the halo of the setting sun.

He heaves an exaggerated sigh as he presses his sleeping daughter to her.

"I can't catch a break! I'm supposed to be on paternity leave."

Paternity leave is supposed to be time spent with family, with his wife, especially his wife. Instead he spends it fending off old frenemies, being reminded of his brother-in-law's presence every five minutes while Rukia tackles her paperwork indoors. She only returned to active duty a few weeks ago and it has been a constant nightmare since then to catch up on the backlog of paperwork.

According to the newly minted Captain and mother of three, he's a distraction to her work progress, and can't be trusted not to mislay official documents in a bid to lure her to back to bed for the pursuit of sleep and other carnal activities, so to the gardens it is.

Ichigo doesn't bother denying it. He's simply saying that Captain Kurosaki-Kuchiki needs to do a better job of saying no, of actually pushing him away rather than deepening the kiss or groping at his ass every time he comes on to her.

It does, as the presence of three growing children attests, take two to tango.

Rukia rolls her eyes, "Most paternity leaves don't last a full year."

Ichigo shrugs unapologetically.

"Anyone who's got a problem with that can take it up with the Soutaichou himself. Kyoraku signed the papers- official seal and everything. I'm on paternity leave until further notice. Even Byakuya agrees."

It was nothing less than a miracle. He and Byakuya never agree on anything.

Rukia snorts, pokes at his sides as she teases, "Well, a little sparring might be good for you. You're starting to look a little soft and round around the edges there."

"Oh I'll show you 'soft'!"

With a playful growl, he pounces- grabbing her by the waist as he nuzzles against her soft hair, breathing her in- desperate and reverent, until the world melts away and all that's left is Rukia, sunshine, warmth and home. A hand rises to touch her face, his thumb tracing the fullness of her lips. There's the woman he fell in love with all those years ago. Proud, spirited; still breathtakingly beautiful but now a fuller figure to hold onto at night, a few more laugh lines dotting her familiar face, and maybe- just maybe, a little softer in the exasperated looks she shoots him whenever he annoys her; but still a fighter in every sense of the word.

She fights for him, for them and their little family, and he is so hopelessly in love with her- the undisputed queen of his heart.

"I'll be back by dinner."

"Come back before then."

Rukia pulls him down for a kiss. It is needy, sensual; a familiar ache that tiptoes a fine line between her wants and his needs. Passion flares and there is fire in her touch as she runs her fingers up and down the length of his bare arm- playful, teasing. There's a teenager lying somewhere in him still- eternally seventeen and reeving to go once she gives the signal.

He remembers long hot summer nights, naked bodies coiling in the dark; violet hazes that streak and colour his world when he gives in. Rukia's touch is magnetic and he is drawn irresistibly to the pull.

"The boys can stay a little longer with Nii-sama and Kukaaku-san today and Hisa sleeps like the dead once she's out," she whispers dark and tempting. Teeth nipping at his lips for good measure as she pulls away. He's all putty and labile in her hands and she knows it.

"We can have the whole house to ourselves."

He almost whimpers. The things she does to him-

He groans, forcing himself to look away from her sultry bedroom eyes. It's been too long.

"Stop seducing me in front of my daughter!"

Rukia laughs, tenderly brushing the stray wispy hair away from Hisaki's face. "You mean our daughter."

Swaddled in her mother's arm, his youngest looks even tinier than usual; her face small enough to fit into one of his palm and a little drool escapes the corner of her mouth as she fusses, tiny little digits flexing then bunching at her mother. His lips curve, wondering what she's dreaming about and if she can comprehend just how happy she makes him just by existing.

They were in his arms before he even knew it. His heart so full that it seems to burst at the seams with the love he has for his little family, smiling so wide that his cheeks hurt.

There is nothing that he wouldn't do for her, for them.

"I'll be back."

Fingers brush at his cheek. Rukia's eyes are soft and smiling as she watches him leave.

Knowing what he knows now, Ichigo will be the first to admit that there's still a whole lot out there that he doesn't know but this much is true: life is a mystery and anything can happen in the blink of an eye, so when good things happen you don't question it.

You don't look a gift horse in the mouth, or scorn at your good fortunes like a little shit and ask why. No, you count your blessings, grab hold of them and run- praying in vain that you'll somehow outrun time itself and the fates never catch a glimpse of your happiness long enough to be envious of it.

Somehow, somewhere; he was at the right place, asked the right questions at the right time and Rukia said yes to all the important ones.

Life begins anew and he hasn't looked back since.

All is well.

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#ichiruki #ichirukimonth2020 #irmonth2020 #mine #fanfic #bleach #future fic #warning: FLUFF #d1: once upon a dream #once upon a dream

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hello-im-not-a-possum · 3 years

Note

Can we get a fic of Henry becoming a Cameraman clone?

This was a fun one! Haven’t seen many Cameraman!Henries and it was a blast to write the first one I’m aware of. And I may or may not expand it further later.

The man ran as fast as his legs could carry him as the building collapsed around him, the flood of ink pouring down threatening to consume him as well. He couldn't believe that he came all this way just to escape from this wildfire of madness by the skin of his teeth. He could see the exit, see the brilliance of daylight peeking through the crack of the open door like a heavenly glow, he was almost there, he could make it!

...And then, the floor collapsed underneath him, making the former animator fall down into the depths of the studio with a loud 'splash' announcing his arrival.

To his luck, he didn't break anything as the flood of ink had cushioned his fall, good. He hated the idea of lying there, completely immobilized by pain, waiting for that thing to come find him... Speaking of which, he shouldn't wait around for it either. Following the flooded path ahead, Henry descended deeper, draining the path as he went before coming across a surprisingly well-lit room.

A room with an ax left out on the table.

"This will definitely come in handy."

He smiled to himself as he picked up the old yet reliable weapon, effortlessly chopping down the barricade nailed in possibly well over a decade ago, it was as easily torn down as a prison of wet cardboard.

Freeing the door from the boards, he opened it and came across a room that he felt intense pressure under, an occult room that drew him in not like a moth to a flame, but like a ship into a whirlpool.

As soon as he stepped into the circle, he saw things flash before his eyes, and then everything went black.

-----------------

When the animator finally came to, the first thing he felt was a dull headache that persisted, and the feeling of something weird coming out of his mouth. His eyes flicked open without issue as he woke back up.

“Ugh… Ow, my head… …what happened?”

He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or not, but his surroundings felt bigger, and his voice sounded like it was peppered with a faint but consistent static crackle that reminded him of a walkie-talkie.

The animator peeled himself off of the ritualistic circle with a grumble, clutching his still hurting head in his left hand. It felt funny to him, almost numb.

As he looked around, aside from the size difference, they didn’t change a bit aside from his ax being propped up against the coffin, and… three pictures that were laying down on the floor; The machine suspended by its chains, a wheelchair, and the silhouette of that thing he saw trying to attack him. The pictures were identical to those sudden flashes he saw before he passed out.

"Well I guess there's only one thing to do." he grunted as he attempted to pick up the much larger and heavier ax, settling for dragging it around instead. "Press on..." he heaved the ax over his shoulder and struck down the next barricade. "See if I can find a way out."

While he was very much aware that he was clearly not human, (his size and what he could see of his body alone felt like enough proof of that fact.) if over sixty years on this earth had taught him anything, it's that pausing to let the supernatural events in your life sink deep into your mind only makes it worse. As long as he kept pushing through this, he'd be okay.

Dragging the ax down deeper, Henry could see that the occult shenanigans his 'Old friend' had gotten into had not been confined to that coffin room. Lit candles rested by what appeared to be some kind of shrine dedicated to his cartoon character with the phrase 'he will set us free' written on it, looked a bit extreme if you asked him.

"How'd this place get so big?"

It wasn't just big in the sense that he shrunk. He knew that the studio was fairly large when he worked there, Joey insisted on the building having 'room to grow' even when it was just their small group, but the extended basement was new. It must've been a nightmare to dig this far down. But the lit candles in areas that weren't necessarily in an actively supernatural room gave him some hope. If there were lit candles, there was someone who lit them, and if there was someone who lit them, maybe they'd be able to help him find an exit.

Walking past some more creepy shrines dedicated to Bendy, he came across a hallway flooded with ink, scattered boards, and wooden chairs. He hesitated just walking through the hallway normally, a gut feeling told him that it would be a very bad idea. But it wasn't like he had any other choice.

"It looks like I'll have to play 'the floor is lava' to get somewhere..." He held his ax with the intent to use it as a makeshift pole vault. "Legs, don't fail me now."

While the weight of the ax made it hard to use, Henry successfully managed to throw himself onto a particularly sturdy board that supported him nicely. The animator half-considered using his ax as a paddle to help him cross the treacherous hallway, but decided against it when the ink proved to be too thick for him to properly paddle through.

'The floor is lava' it is then, he thought to himself as he jumped to a second board and staggered a bit as it was not as stable as the first one. After narrowly avoiding an ink shower and flailing his arms for balance, he looked around for the next wooden scrap to help him stay out of this gunk, spotting in the light of the end of the hallway... No... was that?

A moving bendy cutout? No! It was a person! Finally! He was saved! Or at the very least, not a lone sitting duck!

“Sheep sheep sheep,” The man carrying the cutout murmured to himself “it’s time for sleep, rest your head, it’s time for bed.”

“Hello?” Henry dropped the ax to run up to the man, then swiftly remembered his sticky situation and used his momentum to leap to a different piece of debris. “Excuse me! Can you help me-OoF!"

Henry tripped and luckily landed on a board instead of in the ink,

*ZAP*

As he looked up, he could see a hole burnt cleanly into the cutout the masked figure was carrying, and that he had certainly caught his attention as the man quickly held up the cutout to his face to see the damage, looked to the gremlin of a cartoon desperately trying to stay out of the ink in the ink flooded hallway, and stood frozen in place.

The two of them stared at each other like deer in the headlights, neither of their expressions were readable as one was wearing a mask and the other one had an object for a head, which was hard to express with given that he didn't have a proper face. Neither one knew quite what was going through the other one's head.

"Uh... Hello?"

Henry broke the silence with a nervous wave which the other man hesitantly returned, then continued on his way as if nothing had happened.

"Hey! Wait!" Henry scrambled towards the man as fast as he possibly could while still staying out of the ink, finally freeing himself from the dreaded hallway, he dashed down where he saw the stranger heading; a dead end with the burnt cutout lying by the shrine. "...Where the hell did he go?"

Okay, that had to be another mystery for another day. For now, he'd have to get power to that closed gate that the stranger couldn't have possibly came from unless he could phase through walls or something.

Wait a minute, didn't he see a few switches on the way? One by the dead end, and the others...

He looked down the inky hallway and sighed. It was going to be a very long night.

---

After what felt like days, Henry managed to get power to the gate, only to be rewarded with the boarded up entryway looking into a pitch black room. Too tired to bother taking down the boards with ol' reliable, Henry instead crawled underneath the boards to look at his new environment.

"It's really dark in here."

He remarked, and almost as if on cue, he heard a loud *click* right in his ear and saw that his previously shadowy surroundings were now lit up as if someone was shining a flashlight on them. ...A flashlight that judging by how the light followed as he moved his head, was probably attached to it.

According to his light, he was in the music department. Which was odd, as he could've sworn up and down that the music department was nowhere near this far down. But if memory served, there was an exit in there and that was all he needed. An exit that was just one stairwell away- Goddammit.

"Looks like the stairwell is flooded, if I'm going to get out of here, I'm going to need to find a way to drain it."

Behind him, he heard a reverberating, wet, shlap of a thing of the unknown falling down to the floor. He turned around to look at it, only to flinch back in reflex as a melted human torso either covered in or made of ink came crawling towards him.

With the needed boost of adrenaline, he heaved his ax over his head and brought it down on the creature who was seconds away from striking him itself, backing away as quickly as he could as it hadn't gone down, prepping to build up momentum to strike again, Henry hesitated as he could tell by a quick glance around the place that he was completely surrounded.

Thinking fast, he dropped the ax and bolted up the stairs to the projector's booth, the zombie-like groans and haunting gasps for air just barely behind him. He managed to scramble up the desk out of his pursuers' reaches before realizing something.

"I'm the one who shot a hole in that guy's cutout, and when I commented about the darkness, I lit the place up. I must have some kind of laser-beam weapon in my head and it's probably voice-activated..."

The animator thought out loud as the mindless monsters pawed and clawed at his island of safety, thankfully either too out of shape or too stupid to try to climb up the desk as their prey had done in front of them.

"Laser beam, go!"

He pointed intensely at the gooey goons as he waited for lasers to shoot out of his head and vaporize them. It did not work, but he looked silly enough doing it that the creatures hesitated their attack for a bit, almost as if pondering if it would be morally right to try to attack and kill something that was acting that adorably stupid.

"Umm... Okay... So no laser beam it is then..."

Henry twiddled his thumbs in thought until looking to the open window to the band room once, back to the swarm of frothing monsters, looked back to the band room window, and leaped out of it without hesitation.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #Henry Stein #cameraman #sammy lawrence #searchers batim #batim au #fanfic

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sabraeal · 4 years

Text

Sic Semper Monstrum, Chapter 4

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Obiyuki AU Bingo Pacific Rim AU

“--And so Kai lays down his hand, and says ‘Is this good?’“ Zen lets his mouth unfurl into a smirk. “It was a straight flush. Ace, king, queen, jack, ten, all out on the table. ‘Is this good?’ Kid didn’t even know what he had!”

Shirayuki’s laugh is an experience; a noise that rolls right up from her toes and bubbles out like the best champagne he’s ever drunk. Shao Industries may have their adrenaline in a bottle, ready to serve up to any ranger who needs a boost in the cockpit, but his stimulant of choice is this, bottled up and shot directly into his veins.

He settles back on the couch, arm draped over the back and legs crossed ankle to knee, and there’s nothing like this feeling, having the power to make her laugh like she’s falling to pieces and watching her as she does. Zen may not be the funniest guy on deck, but she’s flushed right down to the roots of her hair, arms wrapped around herself like she’s afraid she’s going to come apart like a Mark 1.

“A-and you told him?” She reaches out a hand, curling trembling fingers around her mug. That was the real sign that he’d gotten her; Shirayuki never put down her tea. “That he’d won?”

“Well...” Her watches as she turns the mug, delaying the pick up as she waits for his punchline. He likes that about her too, the way she anticipates him. “Shiira told him he lost.”

She shrieks, hands flying up to cover her mouth. “Zen!”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry.” He waves his hands, patting the air to say settle down. “Mitsuhide caught us and made Shiira give him the pot. Well--” he gives her a wink-- “what he hadn’t already spent.”

“That’s terrible,” she says with the sort of playful lilt girls at the academy bars would have, slapping him on the shoulder for an excuse to touch him. “I’m glad you got caught. I hope Mitsuhide gave you the scolding of a lifetime.”

“Almost.” He grins, liking how her cheeks flush. “He made a very disappointed face for most of breakfast.”

“Oh, well.” She ducks her head, fingers picking at some nit on her tights. “That’s just as bad.”

“I felt the barest shred of contrition,” he assures her, “I’ll never lie again.”

“Oh good.” Her mouth curves as she sends him a shy glance, hooded beneath her eyelashes. “As long as you’ve learned your lesson.”

“I’m a changed man,” he promises, offering a smirk he hopes is both charming and roguish, and glad Kiki isn’t here to inform him otherwise. Or to tell him that someone is already doing it better.

Whatever, he can make her laugh. Not many other men can do that.

“So.” Shirayuki starts reaching behind herself, arm flailing out blindly for the desk, and he realizes-- the notebook. She’s going for her notebook.

Right, because this isn’t just a fancy living room, and this isn’t just a friendly chat. He’s a patient, and she’s a professional, and the second she gets that notebook in her lap, he’ll feel it, feel studied, like a slice of kaiju under a microscope.

Her fingers clasp around the spiral edge. “Is there anything--?”

“Your tea’s going to get cold,” he blurts out, anything to delay the inevitable wall between them. The knot in his chest eases as her grip does, her gaze dropping to the mug on the table. “I mean, if you just leave it there.”

“My--? Oh!” She presses a palm against the ceramic, grimacing. “Oh my. It must be getting late.”

Well, this was exactly what he didn’t wanted to happen. “Is it?”

She twists around, glancing at the clock above her desk. “We’ve nearly gone over time! I’m so sorry.” She turning back to him with a sheepish smile. “You probably want to be on your way.”

“I don’t have anywhere to be.” Even to his own ears he sounds desperate. “If you’d like some company.”

“I appreciate the offer.” Shirayuki sends him a smile that makes him warm right up from his toes-- and then grabs that damned notebook right off the desk and lays it across her lap. “But I do need to wrap up here.”

She’s too polite to add, because you’re a patient and this is work, but he’s been around his brother long enough to hear what isn’t said, loud and clear. He might be able to make her forget that, just for a little while, but at the end of the day--

Well, she wasn’t lying to Izana when she said she was too much of a professional to let feelings get in the way of her work. As much as he wishes that wasn’t the case.

“All right.” He levers himself to his feet, enjoying the way she has to crane her neck to meet his gaze. “Have a good night, Shirayuki.”

Her mouth curves into a warm smile. “You too, Zen.”

It takes him an age to get to the door, each step like moving through molasses. Nothing’s ever going to happen between them if this keeps up, if she keeps hiding behind her professionalism like a shield and he keeps waiting for Izana to give him the all clear. It’ll come any day now, he knows; Shirayuki’s been here long enough that his brother uses words like competent and indispensable to people he only talks on screens. But still--

His hand hesitates on the doorknob, cool metal smooth against his palm. A Cat 5 could rise up out of the sea any day now and just wipe them out. Waiting was a luxury people like them just don’t have.

“Hey,” he starts, palm slipping on the knob as he turns it. “Would you--?”

His words sputter out, dying on his lips as the door nearly slams into him, opened from the other side.

“Oh.” Gold eyes meet his from a number of inches higher than he ever wants to think about. “Hey there, boss.”

God, of course this happens. He’s seeing that asshole’s face everywhere anyway, why not here too? “I’m not your boss.”

His mouth sharpens into a grin. “Funny. The way you waste my time, you sure act like you are.”

“Oh, Obi! Is that you?” Shirayuki scrambles to her feet, hurrying up behind him to pull the door open the whole way. As much as he tries to angle himself between them, they lock eyes and Shirayuki’s face does that thing where all the tight lines fall away, like this asshole is a relief or something.

“Sure is, Doc.” The sharpness slips from him like a blade into a sheath; Zen can still see it there in the way he holds himself, in the way every part of this asshole is potential energy coiled around a set of bones, but it’s muted now, hidden but not forgotten.

Zen’s mouth pulls tight across his face. “What are you doing here?”

The asshole’s gaze flicks down to him-- fuck him, for being so goddamned tall-- and he honestly expects to be ignored, for this guy to just keep batting his eyelashes at Shirayuki and pretending he’s not any more of a concern than a single ant at a picnic, but--

“I was just heading down to the canteen,” he says, eyes dragging back to meet Shirayuki’s. “Thought I’d stop by and see if you were hungry.”

“Well, you did,” Zen snaps, fingers tightening on the door. “So you can go now.”

“Oh, sure!” He doesn’t like how breathless Shirayuki sounds. “Just give me a minute to wrap this up.”

It doesn’t occur to him that this might reference him, not until she turns to him, smile wide, and asks, “Was there something else you needed, Zen?”

He swings a slow look back toward the asshole, teeth grinding when he sees his mouth all rucked up into a smirk.

“No,” he grunts, shouldering past. The asshole just giggles, like taking an elbow to the gut is a tickle. Weirdo. “I’m good.”

Zen’s a creature of habit; he’s grown up under a dome his whole life, and even if he wasn’t eating in the mess as a kid, he’s at least used to regimented meals. 1800 hours is dinnertime, and even as he’s stomping through the tunnels, headed determinedly east, his stomach keeps voicing persistent reminders that he’s doing wrong by it.

“Shut up,” he murmurs, digging his fingers into the smooth cotton of his shirt. “No one asked you.”

“Hey!”

Zen jerks his chin up, just in time to watch Mitsuhide round the corner, his friendly face already spread in a smile. Perfect. “Hey, Mistuhide, want to go have a spar?”

His steps stutter beneath him, a ridiculous sight on a man so big. “Spar?”

“Funny.” Zen winces as Kiki emerges from behind him, Mitsuhide’s broad shoulders having blocked her from view. “I could have sworn it was time for dinner. Not interested in courting your adoring masses?”

He frowns, annoyed. Have a couple of people on the deck crew crush on him, and suddenly now he’s groupie hunting. “Not hungry. So?”

Mitsuhide’s always been a study in contrasts; he’s a giant, his shoulders almost twice as wide as Zen’s even without all his training. If jaegers were powered by physical might, Mitsuhide Lowen would be able to pilot one without breaking a sweat. Despite all that muscle packed onto him, he’s gentle, the sort of guy that could pet wild animals if there was any nature left to tame.

But at the mention of a spar, his whole face lights up, a feral glee lurking in the shadows of his smile. “Y--”

Of course, that’s the moment Zen’s stomach lets out a great, gurgling growl, reminding him that the mess is the other way.

Mitsuhide turns tame in a second, clapping him on the shoulder. “Dinner first.”

Zen slumps under his giant palm. “Great. Just perfect.”

It’s not like he’s trying to look for them, but-- they’re hard to miss. Or at least Shirayuki is, her red hair bright in a sea of brown and gray, a beacon in the fog, and--

And there is the asshole, head bent toward her, hanging on every word she says.

“There he is again,” he mutters, spearing a piece of chicken. “Eating.”

“And there she is again,” Kiki adds, without missing a beat, “enjoying his company.”

He sputters, ready to refute it-- sure, she may act nice, but Shirayuki can’t actually like this guy-- when she laughs, full and long, her head thrown back and arms wrapped tight around her middle.

His lips thin. “She’s too nice. That asshole doesn’t deserve to hang around her.”

Kiki arches a brow, and oh he feels it, that heavy judgement only a Seiran can convey with a twitch. “And yet you’re the one over here, complaining.”

He grunts, shifting in his seat. “I just don’t think she should hang around him, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” Kiki deadpans. “We’re aware.”

“He’s a total jackass,” he insists, “we all know it!”

“Maybe you should look in a mirror,” she suggests, far too casual. “I think you’d make a good pair. Two peas in a pod.”

Zen goggles. “He hit you!”

“I deserved it,” she admits with a shrug. “Besides, I hit him back.”

“That doesn’t--”

“I think Kiki’s said her piece about it,” Mitsuhide says, a little loud. His mouth is all tight, like he doesn’t quite agree with her, but he knows better than to say so. “And we have to take her at her word.”

She darts a glance at him, and oh, Zen’s glad he’s not on the receiving end of that. Kiki might not speak her mind now, but Mitsuhide will definitely get a whole earful the next time they’re in the drift.

But that’s not what this is about. “Why doesn’t he just leave already? No one wants him here.”

“You haven’t given him a chance,” Mitsuhide reminds him, too even, too calm. “He can’t leave.”

“I know that,” Zen scoffs, sour. “But I’m not going to drift with him.”

“Why not? You don’t want him flitting around Shirayuki, being charming.” Kiki’s brows raise, half a challenge. “If you’d just done it in the first place, he’d be gone by now.”

His mouth pulls thin. Only Kiki would be perverse enough to get punched and suddenly sing a man’s praises, or whatever passed for it from her. “First off, I know it won’t work. Second off--” he snaps, cutting off whatever coy reply Kiki’s taking a breath for-- “I don’t want that bastard rattling around in my head if it does.”

Her mouth cants, amused. “If it works, it’s only because you’re as much of a bastard as he is.”

Zen hisses out a breath, hot as steam. If she thinks she can just say what she wants to him-- “Real rich coming from--”

“If you’re worried about it,” Mitsuhide interjects, studiously oblivious to the tension around him, “you should talk to the Marshal.”

His jaw clenches so hard his molars clack. Of course that’s what he’d think, hand-picked by Izana to be the next pilot for Rex Tyrannous. Why wouldn’t he trust the bastard? He’s someone Izana respects. Not--

Not his brother. “He’s not going to listen to me.”

“Not when you go in demanding he sends him home,” Mitsuhide replies, infuriatingly calm. “But if you talk about why it won’t work, reason it out...the Marshal would respond to that, I think.”

He’s...not wrong. “Still.”

His massive shoulders lift in a shrug, dark eyes meeting his. “What do you have to lose?”

The door to the Marshal’s office is heavy, reinforced steel, nearly three inches thick, meant to withstand all but the most determined battering rams. It was original, installed in the days where they not only had to worry about kaiju but civilians, desperate from the destruction’s fallout.

And so it nearly drowns out, “I want that asshole out of here,” when he slams it shut behind him.

It’s a louder sound than he expects-- than either of them expect from the way his brother stares past him, wide-eyed. Still, he’s not going to let something like that ruin his entrance. Presentation is everything when it comes to dealing with Izana.

He takes a breath, steeling himself. “I want that asshole gone yesterday.”

Izana’s gaze shifts from the door, settling on him with a dispassionate chill. “Well then,” he drawls, settling back in his chair, “then you shouldn’t have wasted it not drifting.”

He could feel the ground slipping out beneath him already, the battle barely begun before he’s routed. It’s how it always is with him; Zen might be the one on the offensive, but he constantly retreats from Izana’s ripostes.

“I can’t drift with that guy,” he huffs, arms cross over his chest. “You know that.”

Izana lifts an infuriating brow. “Do I?”

Zen leashes a growl. “Come on. There’s no way--”

“I’ve heard a lot of excuses,” his brother continues, as if he’d never spoken at all, “but no reasons. At least none that stem from something other than our guest’s popularity with a certain doctor on our staff.”

He opens his mouth, closes it. God, he hates how Izana can just read him like that, like his every thought is writ large on his face for the world to see. “He doesn’t belong here.”

Izana’s gaze snaps up to his, as dangerous and dark as the open ocean. “Prove it, then.” There’s no smile lurking in the corners of his mouth, no maddening tease in his voice. “Show me he isn’t fit to pilot Rex Tyrannous.”

“What?” Zen spits, wishing it didn’t always come to this. “You just want me to jump in the cockpit with him? Let him in my head and try to walk a jaeger right out the doors?”

“No, of course not.” The corner of his mouth twitches, a smirk expertly restrained. “I thought we might handle things the more...traditional way.”

The sparring room is packed, bodies lining every bit of floor that isn’t marked in-bounds. Heaven forfend if one of them stumbles off the mat; they’d fall right into a mass of ranger hopefuls, probably cracking a limb or two on the way down.

“Did you have to make such a spectacle of this?” he mutters, giving his staff a test swing. It still fits easy in his hands, it weight comfortably familiar, but--

The eyes on him make it hard to focus. Zen knows it’s been a while since someone attempted a first drift, but really, this is ridiculous.

Izana’s brows raise, the very picture of innocence. “I didn’t.” His mouth curves, amused. “Everyone is interested. Rex Tyrannous has been in its box for years now. Can you blame them for wanting to see it come out?”

Zen scans the crowd; it’s got techs, sure, and mechanics, maybe even some people from K-Science, but--

He recognizes the hopefuls. Izana has flung every promising face the academy has at him, and one by one they’ve each flunked out, rejected by the drift. Rejected by him.

Just like this asshole is going to be.

He’s across the mat, tank clinging to him in a way that can’t be a mistake, like he went ahead and picked one a size too small from the box. It’s distracting, especially with the easy way the bokken lays across his shoulders, wrists hooked on each side. His shoulder muscles standing out in sharp relief, like they’ve been carved out of bronze, and-- and how is he supposed to concentrate with all that going on? It’s unfair, that’s what it is.

What’s worse is that he’s talking to Shirayuki, and she’s just-- looking at him, eyes pleadingly wide and mouth bowed into a concerned frown. Her hand hovers between them, small fingers outstretched like she might even touch him--

“Remember.” Izana’s smooth drawl buzzes in his ear. “It’s not a competition. It’s a dialogue.”

“I know.” He’s heard it a thousand times; he doesn’t need to hear it again. Not when that asshole is leaning in, all sly smirks and coy winks, making a flush bloom right under Shirayuki’s collar. “That doesn’t mean I’ll hold back.”

“No.” When he dares a glance back up at his brother, the medals on his Marshal’s regalia blazing under the florescence of the gym’s lights, he’s bemused. “I wouldn’t assume so.”

He lifts his chin, spine PPDC regulation straight, and claps his hands. It’s all that’s needed; a second later the room’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. “Let’s begin.”

Zen turns to the mat, bokken balanced in his grip, and the asshole grins, brows arching. “Ready now, boss?”

Over his shoulder he can see Shirayuki, face pale with worry. Her gaze slides off the man lazily poised in front of her, fixing to him, and--

And he doesn’t like the wariness he sees there. He’s not the bad guy here.

“Oh yeah.” Zen’s lips part in a grin that’s more teeth than humor. “I’m ready. First to four.”

The asshole lets out a huff. “I know how this--”

It’s a cheap shot-- he knows it-- but all he feels is satisfaction as his bokken sweeps the mat, catching the asshole right behind the ankles. The jerk may be tall, may be jacked, but that only means he falls harder.

Zen leans over him, smirking. “One-oh. Try to keep up.”

Triumph turns to tragedy the moment he chances a glance at the crowd. Shirayuki draws his gaze like a lodestone, a bright flash of feather against a drab sea, and--

And she’s not looking at him. Oh no, she’s looking at the scum skimming the mat, concern molding her every feature, halted a half-step toward him by Mitsuhide’s hand clasped about her shoulder. She only eases back when Kiki leans in with a whispered word, nodding absently as she speaks.

Zen clenches his teeth. She isn’t supposed to feel bad for this jackass; she’s supposed to-- to--

The pain at his knee is his only warning before he feels the cruel grip of gravity close around him, buckling to the floor. It winds him; his lungs burn as he tries to catch his breath, wobbling on his belly like a beached whale. But the time he rolls over, Obi’s up on his knees over him, bokken pressed pointedly beneath his chin.

“One-one,” the asshole says, no humor left in him. He steps back, spinning the staff behind him, holding out a hand.

Zen stares. Fine. Fine. Looks like this guy wouldn’t be as easy to put off as he thought.

He knocks aside the hand, rolling up to his feet with a smooth, practiced ease. At least having Mitsuhide knock him on his ass gave him something-- he makes getting up look good. Natural.

Zen shuffles back, taking his corner, preparing his stance. The asshole might need some help in the personality department, but he’s no slouch in the physical one. And definitely not in the looks one either, he can’t help but notice, not when Obi drags his tank off, dropping it to the mat. He’s not breathing hard yet, but sweat’s beginning to dew on his skin, beading on a body that’s looks as cut and welded-together as a jaeger itself and--

This has to be against the rules. This is a distraction, and--

It costs him a second point.

His shoulder stings, and by the time he realizes what’s happened, that he’s been hit, the asshole has leapt away, as light on his feet as a cat.

“C’mon, boss,” he lilts, a feral grin tilting his lips. “Keep your head in the game.”

His fingers clench around the bokken. He’ll show him what it’s like when he keeps his head in the game all right. That asshole will be wishing he never piped up when he limps out of here.

Zen dives into his next sweep. He may not be Mitsuhide, able to make those overhead swings so hard and fast that his teeth jiggle in his mouth, but he knows how to make the small ones hurt, how to take down a man that might have a few inches on him. His staff flicks out in a flurry of blows, each clack against Obi’s so regular it might as well be the second hand of a clock, driving him back--

A single step. The only reaction he gets is a raising of eyebrows, and then Obi is meeting his swings blow for blow, hardly pressed. In fact, he’s relaxed, like an instructor at the academy, deflecting his swings like this speed is old hat, something he’s seen a thousand times before.

Zen jumps back, annoyed. This has knocked Kiki Seiran on her ass. What right does this asshole have to be standing?

Fine. He needs to play this careful, strategic. He’s not fighting a rookie, fresh out of the academy, he’s fighting--

Fuck. He’s fighting Izana.

Another step back sets him safely out of reach, and Zen just-- assesses. Like he should have done at the start. Like he would have if he wasn’t so determined to underestimate him. If he wasn’t so determined to hate his guts.

He grimaces. God, he hates it when his brother’s right

This asshole is trained, and he’s bigger than him. Not big enough to wreck him with a blow, like Mitsuhide could, but he’s got reach on his side, and with the biceps he’s packing, he could make his ears ring trying to catch a harder cut. His usual trick of coming in hard and fast won’t work here, not if his fastest barely merited more than a yawn.

He’ll have to be smart. He’ll have to trick him.

Zen edges back in, bracing for a blow that never comes. Obi’s watching him, just as intent, muscle coiled to pounce. Or maybe to flee.

Huh. Now that’s an idea.

He leaps in, coming in too hot, looking for all the world like he’s over-committing on this swing, like he’s some hotshot that believes in power and glory over strategy--

And there it is. Obi edges back, leaning out of his way, grin on his lips--

Which falls straight off when stares down at his hip, the butt of the bokken leaving a red welt where it hit him. He glances at where Zen used to be, where he thought the swing would land, and then back, brow furrowed in confusion.

Zen gives him another tap-- it doesn’t count, they haven’t reset-- and grins. “Two-one.”

Obi’s gaze drags up him, and for once he sees the calculation in it, the sign that under all that charm there’s a man who has braved the rough waters of the Pacific and lived to tell about it. “All right.”

He’d never understood the idea of trading blows. As a kid, Zen lived for every climactic sword fight in a story, for good against evil warring as their blades sparked and clanged and realism took a nice long nap for a chapter or two. But still, the idea that good sir knight would be able to raise his sword to meet every slash of the villain’s, blade biting in only the least vital places, seemed like something strictly in fiction, the sort of fairy tale meant for boys.

But he understands it now.

The rhythm of their bokken is even, almost as if this were an exhibition, as if this were a dance. It’s easy to read how he’ll move in the lines of his body, in the twitch of his muscles, and it’s nothing to rise to meet him, to see that each action Obi takes has an equal and opposite reaction in him. They manage hits on one another-- Zen catching him on the ankle once, and Obi takes him at both the shoulder and the knee-- but it’s almost secondary to this, to the easy ebb and flow between them.

He hasn’t had a spar like this since-- since Mitsuhide was his co-pilot. No, even then it had been harder, Mistuhide’s strength often leaving his arms jangling and tired, their bouts usually an exercise in restraint and endurance. This is easy, but it has an edge, just like with-- with--

Atri.

His breath rasps from his lungs, static building in his brain until that buzz is all that’s left in him, a persistent agitation that makes his teeth clench in chatter. Atri.

The pattern falters-- his fault, he knows, distantly-- but it’s too late, he’s driving forward with a force that has Obi on the retreat. One leg reaches back, and he sees it, the opportunity, and there’s nothing that matters more than winning now, then coming out on top--

His sweep doesn’t take him entirely; Obi’s so surprised by his advanced he jumps too late, foot clipping the bokken it a way that has him stumbling back, dropping onto his ass. Zen’s right there, stick against his neck, grin pulled tight against his face, and--

And something taps his side. The bokken. Obi’s bokken.

It’s a draw.

“So, boss,” the asshole drawls. “Was it good for you?”

The locker room is empty when he gets out of the shower, thankfully. The last thing Zen needs is a half dozen hopefuls trying to compliment his footwork when the only thing between them and a show is the narrow towels the PPDC outfits them with. Not that he’s shy; the academy makes damn sure any modesty you have coming is shorn as quick as your hair by the time you roll out.

But the academy also has rules, and one of those is don’t stare. Somehow, the rookies always forgot that when they move into the dome. The last thing he needs is for some tech to get a peek, and then all of K-Science knows what size condom he wears.

So far there’s been no sign of the asshole. After the draw he just about disappeared; Zen had thought he’d at least hop in for a shower, but frankly-- the man barely broke a sweat. Maybe he didn’t think he needed a good rinse.

Or maybe he just needed some space. Zen can feel that right now; they haven’t even drifted and yet he feels like someone’s been rolling around in his brain. He’d been half-tempted to ask Shirayuki if she had time for a session, but he hadn’t been able to find her either--

Which is something he’d rather not think about right now.

He strides over to his locker, laying his uniform out on the bench. Might as well take up space if no one else is going to use it.

There’s a subtle change in the air as he reaches for the knot at his waist, a weight that lets him know that not only is he not alone, but he’s being judged on top of it.

Zen sighs. He’d know that disappointment anywhere. “Don’t.”

“I haven’t said anything,” Izana drawls, the hard heels of his shoes finally clacking on the tile. “And I don’t know why you think I would. This was an unmitigated success, and--”

“It’s not,” Zen snaps, yanking his boxers on under the towel. “I still don’t want him.”

Izana’s footsteps still. “He’s the best candidate we’ve had in years. I haven’t seen a spar like that since...”

His teeth snap around the words, but Zen doesn’t need to hear them. He’s been thinking them loud and clear, all on his own. “He’s not who I want.”

His brother’s breath hisses through his nose. “We can’t all have who we want--”

“But I can.” He yanks on his pants, glaring over his shoulder. “If you would just stop--”

“No.” The word is too loud in the silence, echoing off the lockers, off the tile. Zen turns to him, eyes wide and-- and Izana never shows weakness but he could swear he sees him tremble. “You can’t.”

With a breath, his brother is in control again, his expression a wall so unassailable that if Sydney had known the trick of it, Bladehead would have had to do a long walk of shame back to the rift.

“You’ll do this drift.” It’s not a question, not anymore. “We can’t afford to pass up this opportunity.”

Zen crosses his arms over his chest, wishing he’d remembered to put on a shirt before all this started. “You can’t force me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Ranger.” He’d always thought Izana stood tall before, but with all those medals winking on his chest, he locates another two. “I can.”

He blinks, breath rasping out of his lungs. He’s been in the dome for years now, and not once has his brother ever done this, thrown up his rank between them and been the Marshal instead.

“I’m just hoping you’ll do the right thing.” His eyes soften even as his mouth pulls thin. “We need Rex Tyrannous out of its box.”

“Why?” Zen breathes. “What’s coming?”

Izana lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Let’s hope we never find out.”

“Setting harness for test mode, waiting for second pilot.” Zen keys in the command, every movement begrudging. He has to this, he knows that, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

And he doesn’t, not one bit. Every moment his copilot makes him wait, the more certain he is that he’s right, that this will be just another drift clusterfuck courtesy of his brother’s obsession--

“Two pilots on board,” a mechanical voice informs him. Zen snaps his gaze over to the door, and there he is, the asshole himself, slinking into the cockpit like he owns it.

He grits his teeth. Of course, he can’t look awkward like everyone else in these armored get-ups. Oh no, he’s got to do for the flight suit what Michelle Pfeiffer did for catsuits. God, he hates him.

“You ready to go?” Zen snaps, stepping back into the harness.

The asshole’s mouth cocks as he keys in his own commands, wry. “Always, Chief.”

“Don’t call me--”

In the blue light of the cockpit, Obi’s eyes take on a strange glow as they fix to his, far too serious. “I won’t let you down.”

Zen stares, mouth suddenly dry. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to be friendly, boss,” the asshole lilts, clearly enjoying all this. “We’re going to be in each other’s heads, after all.”

“Don’t remind me.” He dares a glance in his direction, and-- ah, yep, the asshole is grinning. “Any last words?”

His mouth tips into a leer. “You look great in that suit.”

Zen doesn’t blush, it’s just-- just time to put on his helmet. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Hey.”

He swings his head over to look, meeting the concern in Obi’s gaze. “Don’t chase the rabbit.”

Zen scowls. “I know that.” He shifts in his harness, annoyed. “It’s not my first time.”

Don’t chase the rabbit. Let it flow. Don’t latch on. Tune them out. The drift is silence. He knows it all, done it a thousand times--

But he’s never ready for the moment the handshake takes hold. There’s no uncomfortable sign, no burst of memory blinding him, just one blink he’s Zen and the next he’s more, like waking up from from anesthesia.

The next few seconds are the rough part.

His memories roll past with breathtaking speed; Zen would hesitate to say he likes anything about the first minute of the drift, but as it cards through his earliest gasps of memory, he sees a face he hardly remembers, blurred and bearded, hears a deep, booming laugh he’ll never forget--

“Lucky,” Obi sighs, somewhere between wistful and bitter. He wants to ask what he means, but there’s no use, not when he’ll know everything in another blink. he just has to sit back and--

Zen’s salute is crisp, not an elbow out of place. He’s been practicing all day, drilling himself in the mirror until he’s as shiny and perfect as the medal danging on his brother’s breast. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

Oh no, not this. Please, not this.

Izana returned it with casual precision, as he always does. What perfection Zen has striven for, sweated for, nearly died for, has always come easily to him. He’d hate him for it, if he didn’t love him so much. If he didn’t know he’d feel just what that was like the moment they got to the dome.

“You’re excited,” Izana observes, gaze flickering around the room. He’s seen the barracks before-- he went here too, ages ago-- but Zen’s nervous just the same. It’s his room now, Spartan but serviceable, filled with the few tchotchkes they were allowed to keep, and he wants--

He wants him to like it. To like all of it. To approve of him.

No, no. It’s not supposed to be like this.

“Yes, sir.” He’s breathless, practically trembling from the anticipation. “Always.”

Izana’s mouth parts in a wan smile. “Of course. I was too, when I graduated.”

“It’s not just that.” He’s quivering now, like a dog that’s run its leash, too eager. “I’m ready. To pick up the legacy. To be what father meant us to be.”

His brother is quiet, almost thoughtful, and in the doorway, his shadow coughs.

“Ah!” Zen grimaces. “Sorry, Ranger Shidnote. Not that you-- you’re-- I--”

Shidnote’s lips twitch, just at a corner, the slash bisecting his nose tugging toward it. “No offense taken.”

He was so careful not to think, to just let it flow, but he’s stuck now. They are stuck now.

“About that.” Izana settles a hand on his desk, fingers drumming carefully. “I meant to tell you--”

Oh god, please, no.

“--I’m being promoted.”

“Promoted.” The word’s a dead thing in his mouth, soured and stale, and he nearly gags on it. “But I though--”

“They want me in a command capacity now that Mother’s taking over Anchorage.” Izana clears his throat, fixing his gaze just over his shoulder. “I’m being taken off active duty.”

“But--”

No, this can’t happen. He can’t give him this.

“But--”

He won’t give him this.

If entering the drift is painless, tearing himself from it is agony.

Zen grits his teeth, pushing with all his might, all his will, and it’s like ripping off a limb, like pulling out fingernails--

“Fuck,” he spits, tumbling to the deck, bones rattling as his knees jar against the metal. “God damn.”

“Chief,” his copilot coughs, struggling with the harness, and-- and--

He can’t be here. Not with this asshole, not now.

Zen staggers on his feet, stumbling for the door, just righting himself when he gets to the scaffold. He’s going to hurl if he doesn’t slow down, but he doesn’t care, he can’t care, not until he’s far enough away--

“Zen.”

His gaze jerks up, and there, one flight away is the last face he wants to see, eyes rounded with concern the way they were that day, when he--

“We’re done,” he croaks, voice too soft, like he hasn’t used it in a week.

Izana steps closer, brows drawn. “What--?”

“I said, we’re done,” he shouts, shouldering his way past. “I’m done.”

#obiyukibingo2020 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #pacific rim au #my fic #i'm having that moment where i realize a Zen POv is a very weird entry in obiyukibingo #but also there is some definitely obiyuki in this chapter #must to Zen's chagrin #i know so many of you guessed the pilot was atri #and i think atri was always a balm to what he couldn't have #but Zen's the one between them that's been obsessed with legacy #with living up to what their father created #that the one copilot he wanted had to be the one that could live up to that #who he thought WANTED to live up to that

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carryonmywaywardwriters · 4 years

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Heathens - Soulless Reader x Demon Dean (Short Series)

A/N: Part two! As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Part One

Warnings: Harley/Joker kinda relationship. Unhealthy. Power driven. Smut.

Word Count: Roughly 2,200

“Moose!” His voice was all cheer and glee as he stared up at the towering, still human brother. Trying to ignore the demon-killing knife in the too strong hand. The deep, loathing scowl etched onto the human's face as he stared down the monarch.

Crowley had finally given up. He had no one else to turn to. There were no other beings that stood a chance at getting near the power couple. The two creatures he'd helped shape were raising literal hell on earth. It was time for desperate measures.

“Where is he?” Sam demanded thickly. Booming in rage. Not bothering with any sort of pleasantries. After all, Crowley had his brother for all he knew.

“Ah, yes. Dean-o.” The King's lips pulled back into a scowl. It was time to get to business. Before too much more damage could ensue. “For once, we want the same thing. Squirrel back to himself.” The younger Winchester's eyes narrowed in the low sunlight as he took in Crowley skeptically. “As we both know, your brother is a... changed man. And not for the better.”

“Funny,” Sam snorted. Face twitching as he refrained from colliding into the demon and ending it all. “Last I checked, you were parading him around like some kind of prize. What brought on the change of heart?” Ordinarily, Crowley enjoyed the Winchester sass. But, not then. His eyes rolled instinctively.

“Your brother has this annoying tendency to do as he pleases. I can't control him. I've tried.” The demon shrugged, not even slightly remorseful in his actions. “I might have had better luck if he hadn't run into Y/N-”

“Y/N? Y/N L/N? She's with Dean?” Crowley watched as stark fear crossed the giant's face. “Has he hurt her? God, she has to be terrified-”

“Unlikely.” The king of hell snorted. Too sore from his latest failure to use the hunter's terror for leverage. “The only thing that girl feels is hunger for power.” Bitterness welled inside of him at the thought. You'd not only destroyed his plans for Dean, but the ones he'd had for you as well. In a single swoop. Only needing to bat your eyes to get what you pleased from the knight of hell. Your soul was the only leverage Crowley had against you two, and your only interest was in its destruction. “If I were you? I'd fear more for Dean.”

Realization crossed Sam's face, “You did something to her.” And the anger followed, nostrils flared and all. “I swear to god-”

“No,” Crowley held up his finger as he corrected the hunter. “I only ordered her to be collected as part of a contract that one of my demons created. Simply business. Nothing personal.” The look on Sam's face made it clear. He didn't believe a word the demon was saying. Smart man. “The chit made it damned difficult. Killed my favorite hound. So, I sent demons.” He kept the story simple. Not going into detail about the way you'd fought your life. He didn't need the moose endearing to you anymore than he already was. “They pulled away her soul believing it would stun her enough to destroy her body. But, that's as far as they got.” A vial was pulled out of his jacket, containing the silver blue light that had been torn from your very being. “Turns out your little pet can be quite brutal when she wants to be. And that damned knife you gave her ended up being quite effective. Now? Now we have a soulless maniac on the loose who not only wants to rule the world. But doesn't give a damn who she has to kill to get it. And I'm sure your brother is going to end up on that list if he doesn't follow her orders.” The look on Sam's face said enough. “Don't say it. I know what you're thinking. But, the soulless chit is the problem of the moment. For the both of us!”

“Why not just let it go? Let it find it's way back? If she's not soulless, then-”

“Then, Dean will remove it himself without time counting against him. We'll have nothing to make them pause long enough to gather some control back. They'll be lost.” The King's face fell, just as his reign would if you two continued to skillfully wield your weapons.

You'd already put a large dent into his army. Had weaseled out information- according to the few survivors that crossed your paths- that could give you an advantage. Letting them live only to let Crowley know just how successful you'd been. To toy with his mind.

Harley Quinn and The Joker. Bonnie and Clyde. Or any other powerful duo that could be thought of. None of them compared to the twisted, effective, relationship that you two had. When you weren't covered in blood, you were covered with each other.

“Just when I thought this couldn't get any crazier.” Sam snorted, a bitter half laugh leaving his lips as his hand ran over his stubbled jaw. “Of course it turns into this.” The resignation on his face gave the king some hope.

“Welcome to the party, Moose.” Crowley smirked, though he felt nothing more than vulnerable. You two were too close. There wasn't much time. He would be dead as soon as you two arrived in town, and he was powerless to stop it on his own.

–

“Harder,” You moaned out in pleasure as his hands bruised into your hips. Your nails digging into the rolling muscles of Dean's shoulder and back as you rode him. Breaking the skin along the way. Not giving a damn that he grunted at the feeling. Your eyes were shut. Head tossed back as you zeroed in on the way he filled you. Yet, you could feel the warmth of those blackened orbs watching you as you straddled his lap. His grip moving your body along his solid length.

“Alright,” His lips kicked up arrogantly. Instead of just following your orders, you were flipped so that he was on top of you on the wrecked bed. Your empty E/C eyes were darkened with lust when you opened them. The large fists clenched into your thigh and arm hard enough to rebruise the damaged flesh. He slammed his hips faster, giving you exactly what you demanded and then some.

His teeth sank into the soft skin of your throat; drawing both a cry from your lips and pebbles of blood forward that he easily licked away as he thrust sharply. Leaving another mark on your skin with a growl as your claws sank into him deeper. Body clenching hard around his dick. The hot, slick tug of your body trying to hold him hostage. Taking what you needed from him greedily. He left one hand on your hip as he pulled away. Moving to gain more control. The other gripped the wooden frame. Giving him better leverage. The wooden headboard slammed into the wall roughly. Motel room pictures rattled. Other patrons yelled out their complaints. Drown out by the cries leaving your throat.

At one time, sex between you two had been slow and meaningful. There had been lingering kisses, touches, and emotion behind every action. Cuddles afterwards. Conversation about the future. Dissections of your feelings. It had been everything a girl could dream of before it had ended.

But now? You two used each other. It wasn't about getting closer. Simply about getting off. Sex was just another tool in the power struggle you were looked in. Used as a tool for manipulating the other. Abrasive and filthy every time. Primal in nature, much like the both of you.

You both were covered with lesions; branding each other as the other's property. Possessive? Simply because you needed the other to get where you wanted. Thrived off of how much control you could garner with the right look. A simple touch. There was nothing else to it. No love. Not an ounce of fluff to be found. And you two thrived in the mucked up relationship.

“That's it.” His low voice vibrated shock waves through your system as he coaxed you through your orgasm; watching as you fell apart around him. Hips rolling. Mouth open as the delicious sounds poured out of your lips. “Fuck, Y/N...”

Writhing erratically, he tried to get impossibly closer; losing himself inside of the tight hold. Your eyesight focused in time to see his flushed face contort in pleasure. In the past you would have thought he was beautiful. Would have gotten lost in his pleasure. Instead, you focused on the feeling him getting off gave you.

How he stretched you just right when he stopped moving. The warmth of his seed coating your walls. All of it giving you a final bit of a buzz.

“You didn't win,” You huffed, face grim in determination as you came down from one of the only highs you could still reach.

“Your plan is beyond crazy.” He grumbled, rolling off of you. Displeased that the sex hadn't ended the conversation. After all? That had been the point.

“Which is why it would work.” You insisted again, moving to rest yourself over him. The position giving you better access to his gaze. Eyes that were back to the darkened green. That showed the bit of humanity you'd discovered under the surface of 'Deanmon'. “You know he's gunning on Sam wanting to get us back to the emotionally wrecked shithole we were in before.” If you could've felt fear, he'd have said that's what crossed your face. Instead, desperation was a better fit. All wide eyed and tight lipped. “He wants your brother to stop us. He's scared, Dean. All we have to do is get ahold of him- and his bones- and the rest falls into place. Crowley knows that. But, we won't get there before Sam does whatever his part is in the counter plan.” Your fingers trailed through the short, sex mused locks on his head as your voice softened back into that deadly, convincing tone. “So... we have no choice. We have to put you in Sam's grasp. Have to take care of him. Or, everything we've done is for nothing.” He looked unsure, but he nodded grimly. “I know you have a soft spot for him-”

“I don't.” Dean bit out, his demon side taking completely over at the words. Green blackened. Exactly what you needed.

“But, there's a tiny piece of you that does.” Your voice lowered into the manipulative little timbre he'd come to expect when you set your mind to something. His hackles rose. “It's the same part that Crowley wanted to kill. The same part of you that felt the need to keep me alive.” Softly, you added another twist to the knife. “I'm glad that piece of you exists...Really.” Your hand slowly moved down his sweat coated skin, until you reached the warm mark on his forearm. “But, I- we need you to push past it. If my soul comes back? I'll forget all of this. I'll turn against you. We'll lose everything we've gained.” You traced the reddened flesh. Eyes locked wishfully onto the mark. Begging for it, silently. The power it held. “Even if you can rip it back out? We 'll be too far gone. They'll have the upper hand...we can't afford that kinda set back.” Your vacant eyes met his again in a way that made his skin prickle. “You said you didn't want to lose your demon side... I get that. And you won't. Not completely. I have every detail planned out. You just have to trust me, Dean.” Your lips pressed against the anti-possesion symbol that had been etched onto his chest. The similar mark you bore on your hip. As if it meant something to the two of you. Despite both of you knowing better. “Trust us.”

He had little doubt that you'd planned out every possible scenario. Your lack of humanity made it alarmingly easy to spot weakness in anything that had even the slightest bit remaining. To see where they would go. See how to cut past it effectively. Even in himself.

He'd witnessed the skill countless times over the coarse of three months. Against demons, witches, and humans. If anything got in the way of something you desired? You cut it down without blinking. His brother was simply next on the list.

“Fine,” He nodded. You were right. He didn't want to go back to the feeling. To the wretchedness his life had held before he'd gone dark. That much, he was certain on.. “We do this. We've come this far...” Your lips lifted in a sinister grin, making him almost regret agreeing to it right then and there.

Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @screechingartisancashbailiff

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger @lilulo-12 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @fanfictionismydeath

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raendown · 4 years

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Day 2 of @narutorarepairweek. Today’s prompt is meet cute!

Pairing: HashiramaIzuna Word count: 1780 Rated T+ Summary: It wasn't as if he hadn't already intended to fall in love that day. Just...maybe not like this.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Adopt-a-Heart

If he were completely honest Izuna didn’t actually want a dog. What he wanted was a cat – an entire house full of cats – but his ancient landlord was allergic to cat dander and he wasn’t really looking to get kicked out of another apartment. Finding housing in this city had gotten a little insane over the years. It wasn’t as though he didn’t like dogs, though, so with a longing glance towards the wall of cages filled with tiny inquiring faces Izuna turned down the hallway to where the dogs were kept.

Visiting the local shelter was always a gamble. One never knew what sort of animals had been abandoned or surrendered, what state they would be in, what abuses they might have suffered. Izuna clenched his fists inside his pockets to brace himself and took a deep breath before pushing the door inwards with one of his feet. He knew the sort of sad and lonely faces that would probably be staring back at him until he found a new companion for himself. He knew he couldn’t afford to take all of them home.

He wanted to though.

In general Izuna considered himself to be a man of great strength. Perhaps not physically but he had excellent self-control and when absolutely necessary he could exhibit incredible patience. Never had his strengths been so tested as this moment walking past cage after cage with doleful eyes staring up at him in the hopes of finding a home in his arms. If only he had the space and money to take every single one of these poor creatures with him, he would have in a heartbeat.

The apartment he lived in wasn’t suited for a large dog, however, and he knew if he got a small dog his brother was likely to terrify the poor thing in to a tiny heart attack. Madara was even more of a cat person than Izuna himself. With sorrow in his heart he slinked past a little teacup poodle someone had probably bought because it was cute and then abandoned after realizing that even small dogs required lots of work. Then he clutched his chest and hurried past a Great Dane he desperately wished he had a massive yard for.

When he first stopped it was to peer through the bars at an Airedale who looked in need of a good grooming. Their neighbors growing up had owned two Airedales and he’d always loved their funny faces. Izuna stepped closer – and then scurried back when the animal burst in to motion, snapping and snarling in a raging frenzy. All animals deserved love but this one didn’t seem to have the right disposition for him.

He wandered along and stopped again to peer in at a Malamute who stared back calmly, head cocked to one side with curiosity. When he shuffled forward this time there were no sudden reactions and it brought a smile to his face, a little more hopeful than he had been a moment ago. Despite knowing better Izuna still slipped a couple of fingers through to give the pup something to sniff. Small cooing noises whispered from his lips but he was disappointed when all it earned him was a sneeze before the dog laid its head down and looked away. Either he didn’t smell interesting enough or this was an animal jaded from too many opportunities offered and taken away. Or maybe the thing was just tired. Who was he to say?

Eyes lingering on the pretty beast he could have happily kept as a companion, Izuna stood up and made a mental note to come back here and try again to win this heart in case there was no one else who caught his interest. A maudlin sigh escaped him as he turned to walk away without taking his eyes off the Malamute.

Which turned out to be the best mistake of his entire life. Izuna grunted in a sort of breathless way when he crashed headlong in to a solid wall that somehow managed to be both soft and hard at the same time. Something rumbled above his head, something else began to snuffle near his feet, and it took several seconds for all this information to sort itself out as he wavered back and forth dizzily from the impact. Bringing one hand up to rub at the neck muscles which had not appreciated a sudden stop at that angle, Izuna finally cracked his eyes open to see what he’d run in to.

Then he craned his head back with his eyes rapidly widening as he took in the absolute mountain of a man currently trying to apologize to him. Which was, apparently, the rumbling sound he’d been hearing.

“Are you alright?” the man was asking with a mildly frantic expression. “I should have been looking where I was going! Oh gosh, I didn’t mean to, I was just distracted with the- I like dogs! That isn’t to say I don’t like people – I love people – I certainly didn’t mean to run over you like that!”

Izuna continued to stand and just stare as the man rambled on. Eventually he was able to tear his gaze away from the gorgeous face, travel down that gorgeous body, and spy a cheerful little cloud of white peering back up at him. While the pup – Uzushio Eskimo if he was right – wasn’t exactly small, it looked tiny standing next to this human tree. Izuna had the sudden visceral thought that he would give his very last dollar to climb that man like a squirrel. His thoughts were predictably followed by a wild blush.

“No, I’m fine,” he managed to choke out eventually. “I like your dog.”

“Oh he’s not mine. I volunteer here!” The declaration was made with so much pride that Izuna’s heart very nearly melted in his chest. Gorgeous, tall, kind, and an animal lover. He certainly was ticking off quite a lot of boxes.

“So he’s…he’s up for adoption then? Because I was looking for a new partner. Pet! I mean, er, I was looking for a new pet. To take home and stuff?”

Resisting the urge to smack himself in the face for slipping like that was difficult but he managed. Watching an incredible smile blossom across the tree man’s face helped quite a bit, he could admit that easily. Izuna thought to himself that he would probably do many things for that smile. Most of them illegal. He whined quietly to himself when the man leaned forward right in to his personal space where he could inspect velvet brown eyes from up close.

“Would you like to spend some time getting to know him? He’s such a good boy!”

“Ah, would you be there too?” The question slipped out entirely without his permission and Izuna cringed inside to sound so needy.

“Oh, are you afraid of dogs?” Eyes wide and entirely sincere, the man took a firmer grip on the leash in his hands. “If you’re afraid of dogs then getting to know him would be a very good idea before you adopt. It makes them so sad to be taken home and then brought right back here.”

Heart melting in his chest with every word, Izuna swallowed thickly and accepted the fact that he was about to make an utter fool of himself just to clear the sad look on a stranger’s face. With a renewed blush and a clearing of his throat he let his eyes fall to the floor, inspecting the tiny white face staring up at him with eager eyes and a bright pink tongue lolling out.

“I, ah, I’m not afraid of dogs. You’re just…I was hoping to get to know you. You’re…hot.” Where, he wondered desperately, had his usual silver tongue gone? Not in years had he sounded so awkward.

“Me?”

Kneeling down to pet the dog seemed like a much better way to distract himself than standing there like an idiot and staring off in to space so he did that, nodding as he went down. Fingers scratching at a fluffy white chin, cheeks nearly on fire with embarrassment, he nodded. “I really am interested in adopting though so if we could pretend I didn’t just make a giant idiot of myself that would be wonderful.”

For a handful of moments there was silence but for the sounds of the animals shifting and barking and growling in their kennels. Nothing like true silence, though it was enough to have him cringing at this uncharacteristic awkwardness. In his thoughts he cursed his landlord for being allergic to cats, unwittingly leading him in to this situation. Would that he had met a man like this on any other day when he would have been able to turn on the charm and win himself at the very least one night to make a more lasting impression. Now the only impression he was leaving would surely be that of a blithering idiot.

“Maybe you would like to come spend some time with both of us?”

Izuna’s head snapped up so quickly he was surprised the entire thing didn’t snap off and roll on to the floor.

“Nnngghh?” he gurgled intelligently.

“It’s protocol that staff or a volunteer be in the room the first time a prospective adopter wants to spend time with one of our animals. Ah, I would be very pleased if you got to know both of us.” Somehow the man achieved even higher levels of cute when he broke out in to a shy grin. “My name is Hashirama. It’s very lovely to meet you.”

“Hashirama. That’s a nice name. I’m Izuna and I have to say, the pleasure is all mine.”

Grateful to have a little of his usual confidence back, Izuna happily accepted the hand that reached out to help him back up. If he maybe shivered a little at just how big the other’s hand was around his own, well, it wasn’t like he hadn’t already made his thoughts clear on that matter. And if he let their touch linger when Hashirama pulled away who could blame him? He’d known the man all of two minutes and already he wanted more.

When he left two hours later he had a new puppy trotting before him on a leash and a new number saved in his phone that he very much intended to call the next day. In only one conversation he had somehow managed to fall in love – not just with Hashirama, not just with the companion happily wagging his tail, but with the future suddenly spreading itself out before him, unexpected and entirely welcome.

#rae writes #narutorarepairweek2020 #hashiizu #hashirama #izuna #fanfiction #modern au

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ohtheseboysilove · 5 years

Text

The Devil with angelic eyes [Roger Taylor x F!Reader]

Words : 2, 200 K +

Warnings : mention of smut, language, age gape

Summary : Roger tell the band about a girl he shagged. Turned out he shouldn’t have.

Note : omg guys i don’t know what happened with this request but it is way more different that what I planned to do at the beginning....anyway I love this request and there will be obviously a second part to respect the request! I hope you all enjoy this one, it doesn’t make any sense but it was supert funny to write !

Please tell me what you think my loves xx

🌼Request are open🌼☀ Masterlist ☀

“Dear god, Roger, you look terrible” Freddie commented as his friend passed the door of the studio, looking like hell.

The blond grunted annoyingly and poured himself a hot cup of dark coffee, ignoring his bandmates.

“Who keep you awake all night this time ? Shelly ? Or was it Lola ?” John pipped in, seating criss-cross on the sofa, a mocking smile on his face. “Must be exhausting to have so many girlfriends”

“And only one cock” Added Fred with pout. “I read an article about a man having two cocks, lucky bastard”

Brian looked at the singer horrified and shook his head.

“Freddie, it not possible. Even, if he do have two penis, there no chance he can use them both” His scientific side couldn’t stay quiet hearing this absurdity. “It’s useless like people who are born with six fingers”

“I would make good use of an extra finger, trust me” Freddie chirped and threw a smile to Deaky, the only one to laugh at his joke. Brian closed his eyes with a grimace and busied himself with his cup of tea. “But that wasn’t the conversation, Roger, darling, who is this little creature who don’t let you sleep at night ?”

“Don’t want to talk about her” Roger spat and fell in the chair, massaging his temples. “She is the fucking devil”

“You said the magic word, I need more details now !” Freddie brought his chair closer and looked expectingly at his friend. “Does this delicious woman have a name ?”

“Honey” The blond replied, chewing his bottom lip at the thought of the delicious girl.

“Honey ? That can’t be her real name !” Brian gasped. “Which parents would call–“

“I know very well it’s not her name, twat” Roger bit back, annoyed by Brian’s useless comment. “But I don’t give a damn about that, honey is more than fine with me”

“She sound like a little cock teaser. I have this feeling. Am I wrong ?” Freddie asked with an arched eyebrow. His curious smile turned into a smirk as Roger blushed, clearly a bit upset. “Oh she is, she totally is ! I like her even more !” He clapped his hands happily and the blond rolled his eyes.

“She is the worst okay ? Never a girl make me crawl so hard to have her” The drummer confessed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Roger Meddows Taylor, crawling for a girl ? Unbelievable” John snickered and earned a death glare from his friend. “Well, did she was worth it at least ? You looked pretty exhausted, must be a good night”

The blond pinched his lips into a line, irritation bubbling in his blood.

“I still didn’t fuck her” He confessed, cheeks red with frustration.

“Seriously ? But you met her last month ? And you seeing her almost every night !” Brian asked with furrowed eyebrows, rather surprise of the grip the woman had on his friend.

“I fucking know that ! It had been six weeks and she did nothing else but tease me ! Sucking my cock then stop right before I cum ! She is...I can’t explain, she is so hot, everything about her is fucking erotic, I want to fuck her so badly, it’s painful” Roger whined, head dropped on the back of the chair, sharing his desperation with his bandmates.

“Hell, even me I want to shag her” Freddie said, lighting a cigarette, pressing Roger to continue to speak about this girl. “Tell us more, what she looks like ? What she do to make you so crazy for six fucking weeks ?”

Brian and John, both were married but couldn’t say no to hear about the beautiful girl torturing the infernal blond.

“She got the dirtiest mouth I ever heard, I swear everything she said is filthy, making me hard every fucking time she whispered in my ear. And she do the best deep-throat blowjob, without any gagging. Must be fucking experienced because she clearly know how to use her tongue around me” Freddie hummed appreciatively and John and Brian’s cheeks were slightly flushed, eager to know more about this – apparently – perfect woman. “Fucking beautiful tits too, she got a piercing on her right nipple and it’s bloody hot, always poking under her top, naughty girl never wear a single bra in her life I’m sure” He stole Freddie’s cigarette and took a deep puff, smirking at his friends, very attentive to each of his word. “Well, well, well, no smartass comment to make Brian ? John ? Look at these flushed faces”

“Oh come on, we are married, fantasy is all we got now” Brian grunted and rolled his eyes. “Help a friend in distress with his wife” Freddie giggled loudly.

“I’m perfectly happy in my marriage” John shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh yeah ? So you don’t want to hear about Honey’s pretty little cunt ?” Roger teased, tilting his head on the side to see his friend swallowed with difficulty. He stayed silent and motioned him to continue. “That what I thought too. So the sweet honey got an ever sweeter pussy, pink and a delicious juice. And fuck, she do the more erotic little moans, very vocal and not shy at all” He sighed loudly, chewing the inside of his cheek at the memories of the girl kneeling in front of him, does-eyes but with a devilish smile.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Roger, did you found the goddess of sex or what ? Never heard you praised a girl that much. Without even fucking her yet !” The singer smirk rather impressed, this girl was certainly something, turning Roger into lost puppy wasn’t an easy task.

“Aphrodite” The guitarist said with sweaty hands. Freddie glanced at him, wondering what this was about. “The Greek goddess of sex and beauty is Aphrodite”

“You also have Hedone, goddess of the pleasure, seems to match too” John added with an amused smile.

“Roger, you have to shag this girl” Freddie said in a serious tone and the two other nodded.

“I will, don’t worry” He smirked with confidence.

“By the way, how old she is ? Must be younger to be so wild” Deaky wondered as he gave to all his bandmates a paper with lyrics for a new song he wrote.

Roger cleared his voice, embarrassment flushing his face. “twenty-one” He replied and immediately a stream of disgusting noises followed.

“For god’ sake Rog ! You’re forty-two years old !” Brian scoffed with a grimace. “You’re a pig”

“She could be your daughter” John commented, his lips pinched in a thin line.

“Well she is fucking not ! And you weren’t complaining five minutes ago” Roger grunted as he crossed his arms, vexed. “She’s hot okay ? And she’s the one who start hitting on me, she can be very persuasive, trust me”

“Age is just a number my darlings, let Roger have his fun, just don’t knocked her up, you would ruin her young life” Freddie relaxed the atmosphere, even more amused by the scandalously young age of the girl. “Let’s go to work now, we already way behind schedule boys.

Two weeks later, Roger bursted into the studio, wearing a giant smirk.

“I did it ! I fucking did it ! I finally shag honey and she bloody squirted !” He yelled in a victorious tone, earning a round of applause from Freddie.

“Well done darling, but that not really the moment. Our darling Brian is having a bit of an existence crisis right now” Roger lose his smile and came to sit next to his best friend, furrowed his brows in worry.

“What’s going on ? Chrissie and the kids are okay ?”

“Yes” Brian mumbled. “Do you remember Maddy ? The groupie when we where still in Smile ?”

“The one who get an abortion ? ‘f course I remember her. She gave us a hell of fear” Roger chuckled bitterly.

“Well, guess what ? She never had the abortion, she kept the baby” The guitarist dropped the bomb as Roger’s eyes widened with shock. “She contacted me few days ago, claiming I have a twenties something daughter who want to meet her dad” He hid his head in his hands, sighing deeply.

“Are you sure it’s yours ?” John questioned. They were rich and famous, the best target for good money.

“We did a blood test and she wasn’t lying, I have a daughter that I never fucking met in my life. I just spoke to hear on the phone, she seems sweet, I invited her this afternoon, was too fucking afraid to meet her all by myself”

The boys spent the ten next minutes trying to cheer up Brian, it wasn’t his fault after all. And the girl wanted to meet him, she probably wasn’t too upset about the situation. Then Freddie’s voice echoed in the studio, making everyone eyes popped up from their heads.

“Roger, am I dreaming or you spent to much time handcuffed to the bed yesterday ?” The blond reddened furiously. “Look at these poor bruised wrists !” Freddie pushed his sleeves to expose the purple flesh of the drummer, giggling hysterically.

“Oh my– did she spank you too because you were a naughty boy ?” John snorted loudly as the blond bit his bottom lip, hiding back his wrists. “I’m sure she did. Hundred percent sure” He added more seriously then bursted in laugher with Roger’s silent agreement and death glare.

The three friends giggled like kids, almost peeing themselves at the flushing face of the blond. He shifted in his sit and involuntary grimaced at the soreness of his ass cheeks, making his bandmate cried, real tears rolling down their features.

“God, I need more details, please do darling” Freddie wiped his teary eyes, his chest still shaking with laugher slowly dying but he was practically panting.

“You said it wasn’t the moment with Brian” Roger hissed, sliding his sunglasses on his nose.

“I want to hear the story too, I need to clear my mind anyway” The guitarist smirked and every gazes fell on the blond, making him sighed.

“It was fucking good” Roger blurbed out, his tongue absent-mindedly licking his parted lips. “She is fucking wild I swear, she handcuffed me to the bed, I was bloody naked and she was wearing this tiny little red strappy bustier, barely covering anything, her breasts was outflanked, was a beautiful sight” The blond scratch his red neck. “She teased me for fucking ages, rubbing her soaked pussy against my face but I couldn’t even fucking taste” He groaned, annoyed at the memory.

“Why not ?” Freddie arched a brow then gasped excitedly. “ Oh! What did she use ? Bone gag ? Ball gag ?”

“Just a pair of panties” Roger replied, all of them looking at Fred like he was coming from another planet.

“Oh don’t be such bore darlings, bondages is fun, you should try. Especially you Brian” The curly brunette gasped a surprise me? “Yes, maybe Chrissie would like it” He winked and Brian swallowed nervously.

“Right, if you want to try Brian, I can ask Honey where she buy all of her stuffs, she has a box full of toys and some scary stuffs too. Was rather surprise, she can look so angelic when she want” He shook his head with a chuckle. “I also have a blindfold at the beginning but I didn’t like at all, so she nicely accepted to take it off”

“And she punished you for that ?” John pipped with a smirk.

“Hell yes. Nipple clamps with chains but I thought it was for her, was bloody excited but she put them on me, dear god, it’s painful ! But good too, they do the trick I guess”

Brian and Deaky grimaced at the thought of the pain but Freddie didn’t seemed too interested, shrugging simply.

“Are you sure you fucked her ? Because all of that sound more like she fucked you darling”

“I know ! She rode me first, bloody good pussy she got there, thigh and her moves...jesus the woman is insatiable, shoving my dick in her mouth like it was a fucking treat” Freddie hummed in amusement, his friend seemed like he had the time of his life last night. “We fucked literally all night, testing her weird accessories and food fantasies, pretty good actually. But when she finally let me lead, I wrecked her” Roger smirked with satisfaction. “Tugging on her hairs until her back arched completely, cuming on these perfect tits of her, she even let me take her by both of her hole and bloody hell, I wished I had another dick yesterday, could have been useful to satisfy this voracious little slut. She begged and cried until I completely ruined her” His was was drooling with pride.

“Okay too much details Roger” John grimaced with flushed pink, his fingers scratching his chin awkwardly.

Roger and Freddie never had any problem to share the details of their sex life with everyone but Deaky wasn’t really like that. Brian was in the middle, depending of his mood, the girl he shagged and the situation.

“Coming from the man who wrote a bloody song about cuming too fast, it’s pretty funny” Roger immediately shot back, knowing that this argument always worked.

Deaky rolled his eyes and showed him his middle finger, bored that they still teased him about his song Misfire, years after he wrote it.

“Are you gonna see this girl again ?” Brian asked to close the argument between his two bandmates.

“Hell yes, she is probably the best lay I had in years, she definitively know what she does and she fucking flexible, that drive me crazy” The drummer bit his bottom lip, smirking as Brian scoffed, remembering him she was bloody young but if Roger was a bit awkward at first about her age, now that she saw what she was capable of doing, he didn’t care anymore.

Freddie was about to make a comment when a soft knock echoed in the room and Brian immediately stood up, knowing it was probably his unknown daughter. He exited the room and spoke with her for several minutes outside as Freddie, Roger and Deaky waited nervously, hoping everything was going fine for their friend.

The door opened again and a flushed and smiling Brian appeared, followed by a smallest person, hiding behind him.

“Guys, this is my daughter (Y/N). (Y/N), this is John, Freddie and Roger”

The girl was wearing a little white dress, her hairs sweetly put into two plates attached at the back of her head, letting the rest of her hairs falling loosely. She had big doe eyes, looking absolutely adorable. A perfect little angel.

The drummer stopped breathing as soon as his gaze fell on the girl, his face turning livid at the realisation. (Y/N) smiled timidly to everyone, tucking her hairs behind her ear but Roger didn’t miss the discrete wink she sent him.

Honey and (Y/N) May was the same person. She was Brian’s daughter. Roger fucked his daughter’s best friend and gave him all the bloody details.

permanent tag list : @jennyggggrrr

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor #roger taylor x you #ben hardy!roger x reader #Queen

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