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sophierequests · 2 years

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sophie my sweet love!! i have a request! well multiple, but here is one

dad!kaz where it's years later and they bring their son to the crow club for the first time and he's in awe of everything. and y/n is rushing around to make sure he doesn't touch anything or hurt himself, and kaz is just there with jes smiling at the chaos his family brings

a little crow and a lot of chaos

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Pairing: Kaz Brekker x f!Reader

A/N: El, I love you for this request, it's so good. I am in love with the idea of dad!Kaz and you have my heart for asking for this. I'll definitely need more dad!Kaz requests or I will pass away (I'm very serious). This is one of the softest fics I'll ever write and I am actually quite happy with how it turned out??? Also, I named the son Jordie, just because I wanted to suffer (and not at all because I'm terrible at picking out names for ocs). Thank you so much for requesting this, El <333

Summary: A little crow visits the Crow Club for the first time and chaos ensues

Genre: F L U F F

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: A very tiny mention of his touch aversion, very soft!Kaz, Sophie doesn't know how children talk and at this point her search history look a bit weird, so she's too scared of looking it up

“Do you really think that this is a good idea?” You directed the question at your husband as you futilely tried to convince your son to put on his boots. The son in question had been in a very lively mood for the entire morning and, as much as you adored him, he became a bloody nuisance when he was as excited as this. Kaz, who had also done his very best to keep the little boy in check, only chuckled as he looked down at you with playful pity.

“I’m sure it will be fine, love.” He mused, straightening his tie and correcting his appearance in the hallway mirror for the hundredth time today. Both of you were far from being new parents, your son now already shy of four years old, but there were some habits you needed to get used to. Especially Kaz. He still had his bad days when everything was just a bit too much for him to handle causing him to retreat into his old shell. Now they were just way less frequent and when they happened, the waves didn’t manage to overtake him completely. All in all, he had managed to become a loving husband and caring father, of whom you couldn’t be any more proud.

“Ma, you promised!” Jordie pouted, staring at you with wide eyes and an overly dramatic quivering lower lip. Saints, you really needed to limit the time he spent with Nina and Jesper…

“I know, I know and we will go to the Crow Club today,” You consoled him whilst finally succeeding in shoving the godforsaken boots over his feet. You turned your face to a smirking Kaz, who seemed to be having the time of his life just about now. “I’m just a bit worried that we might run into people that your daddy doesn’t necessarily like.”

“It’s the middle of the day. The club is probably close to being empty. There’s nothing to worry about. And if there should be some sort of trouble lurking-”

“Uncle Jes will protect us all with his guns!” Your son jumped up, giving both of you a wide grin before taking confident strides towards the front door. Kaz tried to stifle a chuckle, but he inevitably failed as he saw your utterly flabbergasted expression. Sometimes, you were surprised none of your friends had taught him to say ‘fuck’ yet - not that you intended on giving them any ideas.

“Maybe we should think about who we choose as babysitters a bit more thoroughly.” Kaz stood behind you, letting his hands rest on your shoulders as he placed a chaste kiss on your temple. “But I’d say we leave now, or he might show us what else his aunts and uncles have taught him.”

Since you didn’t live in the Barrel anymore, you had to walk a bit to reach the Crow Club. The walk from your estate in the Geldstraat wasn’t far, but your husband still was very content with carrying Jordie for a brief portion of the way. It made you recall past days when he would struggle immensely with even attempting to publicly show affection towards you, or anyone for that matter. In his mind, it made him appear valuable and weak. As your son grew older, these feelings subsided, replaced by a new sense of responsibility and strength.

Many people couldn’t appreciate the beauty of the Barrel, however, seeing it through the eyes of a small boy, whose father wasn’t reluctant to tell stories about all the crazy heists his parents and their friends had completed here, made it easier for you to understand why your son was so excited to come back. And it wasn’t like the Barrel was all that bad. It had been your home for the majority of your teenage years and it was where you met your closest friends, after all. Becoming parents had kept both you and Kaz from coming back frequently unless it was work-related, so you were more than glad to enjoy your time without having to worry about completing a job or filling out paperwork. The only thing you had to worry about now was keeping your son from touching anything dangerous or hurting himself. That couldn’t be so hard, right?

Jordie wriggled himself out of your spouse’s arm as the oxidized silver crow sign of the Crow Club came into sight. Kaz was quick to reach for his hand, holding onto it tightly to keep him from running out of your sight. You hastily moved forward to grab the other one, letting him walk between the two of you, which he begrudgingly accepted. You couldn’t blame him for being excited. It was his first time actually seeing the club from the inside since you had vehemently insisted on keeping him from the vulgar sceneries that could be found in gambling dens and clubs of all sorts as long as you possibly could. The only exception you ever made was occasionally bringing him around to the Slat to pay a visit to his father while he was working. You were sure that if things would go how Kaz wanted them to go, he would’ve brought him to the Crow Club whilst still in diapers.

Upon entering the establishment, the eyes of the few patrons immediately snapped towards Kaz. No matter how much of a doting husband he may be when you were alone, he still had one hell of a reputation, which he was proud to employ for his benefit. Even though it was quite the difficult task to do so, whilst grasping onto the tiny hands of a preschooler. With one determined snap of his cane, the majority of the gazes found their way back to their drinks and the three of you could finally settle without being the centre of everyone's attention.

One pair stayed fixed on you.

“Uncle Jes!” Your son squealed, yanking his hands out of your grip and running towards the Sharpshooter that stood leaning against the bar, clumsily placing his glass of whiskey on the counter next to him. You wanted to dash after him, but your partner only gave you a reassuring look, putting his cane out in front of you to block your way. Jesper flashed you a toothy grin, adjusting his hat before bending down and picking Jordie up to give him a big hug. Against Kaz’s initial disbelief, your friend proved to be the best godfather and babysitter that you could have wished for. Only when he was not trying to introduce your son to his array of shenanigans and pranks though.

“Look who’s here! Have you gotten taller since the last time I’ve seen you?” Jesper quipped, causing Jordie to giggle uncontrollably.

“The last time you’ve seen him was two days ago, I doubt that he had a paranormal growth spurt since then.” Kaz retorted in his typical sarcastic tone, but with a barely noticeable grin on his lips. His comment was only countered with a jaunty eye roll before the attention was back on the little boy.

“What are you doing here, little crow?” Jesper asked as if he hadn’t been the one to plant the idea of visiting the Crow Club in Jordie’s head in the first place. “Are you joining the big boy club now?”

“It was about time that we showed him where people like his parents and godparents spent their teenage years.” Kaz chuckled, earning a warning glare from you, which he tactfully ignored. As much as you loved spending time here, the fact that it was a gambling den filled with some of the most dangerous criminals Ketterdam could breed, didn’t necessarily scream kid friendly.

And of course, your worries were justified.

As soon as Jesper put him back down, he began to wander around the club. It was a lot different to what he knew from the Barrel. The flashy colours and extravagant designs of most of the other bars were replaced by the rich black and crimson interior of the Crow Club. It was the physical manifestation of Kaz Brekker in the form of a betting hall.

The first object of attraction that managed to reel Jordie in, was the array of card tables that were spread out all over the main hall. He waddled away from the bar, right in the direction of a table that was currently being used by four sketchy-looking men. It was very likely that he was only interested in seeing what game they were playing or that he wanted to look at the intricate crow pattern on the red cloth that coated the circular tables.

“Jordie, don’t bother these lovely men. I’m sure they simply want to enjoy their game in peace.” You called after him, but he didn’t listen. Not wanting him to get into trouble, you hurried forward, trying to catch him, or at the least keep him in check. You didn’t see the amused look on your husband’s face as he watched you scurry after a feisty three-year-old and it was better that you didn’t. He did understand why you were so anxious about your son being here, but he just couldn’t stifle the enjoyment he got from your so-called ‘mother hen behaviour’ as Jes had lovingly dubbed it. Before he could reach the table you were already right behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders to navigate him away from it. The men hadn’t even noticed him, but you weren’t able to hide the embarrassment written all over your face.

To your dismay, a door to one of the private gambling parlours opened, revealing the now empty room. Obviously, this only served as a new point of interest to Jordie, who instantly rushed towards it to see what was going on inside. Sometimes you really wondered whether you should attempt to put a leash on him.

Kaz’s eyes followed you ceaselessly as you sprinted all around the club, holding back your son from touching any sharp edges and apologizing to numerous customers who had been deemed important enough to be appealing to him. No matter how hard he tried to disguise his smile and turn it into a self-satisfied smirk, it didn’t work out.

“Come on, Kaz. Are you going soft on us? If Nina could see you right now, you would never be free from her bullying.” Jesper grinned, raising his eyebrows at the man next to him.

“If Nina could see me right now, she would tell me to get a decent haircut.” He replied, stealing Jesper’s whiskey off of the counter and helping himself to a considerable sip from the glass.

“And she would be right. But she’d also absolutely relish the sight of Kaz Brekker, the Bastard of the Barrel, smiling like a lovesick teenage boy.”

“She’s my wife, Jesper. I am allowed to look at her how I please.”

“Of course you are. It’s just nice to know that the big scary Dirtyhands does have a heart sometimes. Even if that heart manifests through the heart eyes he gives his wife.”

“Shut up Jesper.”

Their friendly bickering was cut short by a hollow clanking noise, coming from a chair that your son had managed to knock over. He watched as you hastily picked it up before ushering him back towards the bar whilst trying to make yourself as small as possible to get rid of any unwanted attention.

“Alright, young man,” Kaz laughed, putting a hand on Jordie’s back to steer him towards the exit. “I think that you did quite enough exploring for the day. Let’s head to the Slat, I heard that your other aunts and uncles might want to spend the evening with us.”

At the mention of the Crows, he gave up his pouting and was now eager to leave the club. You could only shake your head, joining Jesper and Kaz on their way out, still carefully eying your overly energetic child.

"Oh Jes, are we still going out for W-A-F-F-L-E-S later, or did the plans change?" You questioned the Zemeni boy in an attempt to not excite your son too much. This plan flew straight over Jesper’s head.

"Why did you just spell out waffles?" He snickered, cocking his brows inquisitively. You sighed, seeing Jordie’s eyes go wide with joy.

"Are we getting waffles later?! Will aunt Nina be there too? Can I have the ones with extra chocolate?" A cluster of questions started tumbling from his mouth as he nearly seemed to be buzzing with glee.

"That's why." Kaz answered, giving you a slight nudge with his shoulder before lifting Jordie off his feet, whose ramblings were cut short by a joyful squeal.

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse

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roosterbox · 5 months

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The Secret Bonus October Drabble: Cider

Pairing: Steddie

Wordcount: 500

Additional tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, my first time writing for this ship, implied future sexytimes

Info: this was one of the random word drabbles (or attempts at drabbles) I wrote for October. This one, however, didn’t end up getting posted because I was unsatisfied with the end result. Especially because it was my first real attempt at writing for this ship. Since I’m working on putting the other drabbles into their own little fic for AO3, i figured I’d reread this one. And you know, it’s not actually too bad. Might put it in with the others in fact. Either way, it was just languishing away in my notes, not doing anything for anybody so… here we go!

———

At the first bite, Eddie made a face.

“Steve, babe, I think you cooked this cake a bit too long.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “What? Is it too dry? It looked okay coming out…”

“No it’s-“ Actually perfectly moist, he thought. If it were any other flavor, he wouldn’t have said anything. But-“You let all the alcohol bake out of it.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “That’s because there is no alcohol, dummy. I used the sweet cider instead.” At Eddie’s surprised look, he continued. “Like I was gonna serve the kids a boozy cake, come on now.”

“It matters to me! The taste is all wrong!”

“And what, exactly, is wrong with it?”

Eddie opened his mouth, but found that he had no actual reply. The cake, an experimental recipe from Steve, was absolutely delicious. A triumph. One they would likely be repeating for many a Fall season to come. And really, what his boyfriend said made sense. But Eddie was in a contradictory mood.

“Baking makes the alcohol content almost negligible, you know. It burns off.”

“Were you planning to get drunk off of a cake?” Steve’s eyes were twinkling despite his serious expression. He chose not to comment on Eddie avoiding his earlier question.

“No! I just-“

“Did you forget about the non-alcoholic stuff?” At that, Eddie pouted.

“No, quit teasing me.“

Steve took his own bite of the cake. Even though he’d had the chef’s privilege of tasting it at every stage of the process, he couldn’t help groaning in pleasure at the flavor.

Eddie was watching him quite intensely. He must have heard the noise Steve made. Which was fine by him.

“So tell me,” Steve said, speaking slowly. “Alcohol aside. What, exactly, is wrong with my cake?”

They stared each other down. Steve knew the answer was nothing. He’d just tasted the damn thing and it was perfect. But he also knew that Eddie, in addition to being stubborn to a fault, was very creative. If anyone could invent a problem that wasn’t actually there, it was him. After a few moments, however, the other man visibly deflated.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It’s delicious. You’ve outdone yourself, sweetheart.”

“That’s what I thought,” Steve leaned over to kiss Eddie’s cheek, right where he knew a dimple would be. His boyfriend looked away, obviously fighting a smile. “Don’t worry, big guy, I’ve still got plenty of the good stuff. Just for you.”

At that, Eddie turned, raising an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

Now he was fully smiling. “What kind of good stuff are we talking about?”

Steve took Eddie’s hand and brought it to his lips, leaving a lingering kiss on the knuckles. He then moved it to his hip where Eddie, ever bold, immediately reached a bit further back to grab a handful of his lover’s ample backside.

“All kinds of good stuff.”

Eddie growled, more of a purr actually, and pulled Steve closer. The hand on Steve’s ass squeezed tighter. “I like the sound of that.”

#steddie #drabble #minific #my stuff #my fic #writing is hard #secret fic that didn’t get posted #sweet fluffy nonsense #lol #Eddie just wanted a boozy cake #silly man

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majorshatterandhare · 9 months

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Hey, look at me! I did it. I listened to a new-me-album. I don’t do that very often.

It took me 2.5 years to listen through all the mechs albums and feel like I have spent a good amount of time with each, feel content with them. Reach for them all equally as much (except maybe TtbT2, which is my favorite).

It has taken me 8 months to decide to listen to a second Jessica Law album. Not because I didn’t like Languid Little Lies, but because I absolutely adore it!

I’m just so happy and content to listen to the same stuff all the time that I don’t ever feel the desire to seek out new stuff. That goes for music, podcasts, tv, movies.

I feel a bit bad for not having more knowledge on the other projects mechs members have done and continue to do. I would like to love everyone’s work, it’s just gonna take me years to get through everything sufficiently. But also that means I don’t have to fucking worry if I do come to a point that I’m desperate for something new because there will be something to reach for.

And like, I didn’t like HNOC for quite a while. I continued to listen to it on occasion because I liked everything else I knew by them; didn’t understand why I didn’t have any enjoyment from it. I think it was mainly because I had almost zero knowledge of Arthurian legend. Had to read Gawain and the Green Knight in high school and listened to a retelling of the story where Merlin gets trapped in a cave forever by a lady on Myths and Legends (podcast); didn’t really care at all. Wanted to care (about Arthurian Legend) because I knew that a lot of Celtic myth got fucked up and put in there. So everytime I listened I’d end up reading more about Arthurian legend because I couldn’t remember who was who until finally I understood it well enough that I could actually enjoy everything smart about it and the music itself and trans Mordred and more and more. I didn’t have that issue with OUaTiS or UDaD or TBI because I had knowledge of European fairytales and Greek myth and enough about Norse myth already. Same reason I usually skip Drop Dead, the first song on my favorite mechs album. I just don’t care about it at all, in an ambivalent way. It doesn’t do anything for me. But I also have no experience with Crypt of the Necrodancer. But I listen to it on occasion because there’s nothing wrong with it and maybe this time will be the time it clicks.

#the mechanisms #jessica law #i also have apd and a general processing disability so that likely exacerbated my inability to follow hnoc without knowledge the legends #like i think very very many people will think its silly that i literally couldnt follow the album before that #but my brain doesnt sort information into memory categories well *and* struggles with auditory info #sorry that i couldnt remember that in legend mordred in the son of arthur and morgause. arthurs sister #or who is gawain and who is galahad #i still get those name mixed up but just the names not the characters #i was very good at remembering that lancelot will only fuck arthurs wife though. thats wild in a morally monogamous society #but its also the whole reason when youre with a bunch of people and your introducing yourself youre supposed to give a fun fact #or your favorite color or something #the more info you have to link together. the easier it is to recall.#anyway not sure why im telling yall this #and i really like hnoc now!#do i have concerns about it regarding the fact its a western and the ‘indians’ are cannibals?#yeah absolutely!#do i think consuming the flesh of a human is inherently morally wrong?#no!#comes down to the negative stereotypes against native americans #obviously saxons arent native americans but they are filling that role in the western setting #im sure theres way more to be analyzed regarding that. but i am not the right person for that.#its 1.45 am and i am crocheting a giant millipede #languid little lies #udad #hnoc #ouatis #tbi #the littlest libertine #i guess i havent spent a lot of time with dttm but thats because it songs from other albums #and the versions ive seen didn’t have all the audio so i didnt even get all the death stories

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another-fic-another-planet · 2 years

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Out of Tune 9/?

Second POV, main pairing: Eddie Munson/You

MINORS DNI, 18+

contains: explicit content, dom/sub, allusions to light bondage, light bratting, masturbation, oral (both), jealous!eddie, dom/sub, basically… sexy times always. (M to F)

this one's a long one...

When Eddie does get back, he’s soaked to the bone with a scraped cheek and busted lip. Cold droplets of rain dropped from his hair as he pulled the window up again.

“Eddie, what did you do!” You hiss, your eyes widening as you pull him into the warmth of your room. You cradle his face in your hands and wipe away the small bit of blood that is still on his lip.

“I had to protect my true love like any hero would… but then I ran back to your castle. But at least I got a couple punches in.” He says with a pained smile, pulling his rings off. They clink when they meet the glass top of your dresser.

“God… I never meant…” You start to say, chewing on your bottom lip.

“No. This isn’t your fault, this is that fucker’s fault and he got what he deserved. I said from the beginning that you were completely taken.” Eddie states with conviction, peeling off his Reeboks. He rubs his face slowly, looking down.

“I-I know, but now you’re hurt.” You continue, using the towel you’ve been holding to begin to dry his hair.

“Princess, I’m fine. I’ve had worse when dealing with Jason and his band of idiots.” Eddie reassures you, pulling you close and smiling sweetly even though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I just hate this.” You say softly, sighing. “I should probably tell you though… One of those idiots is sleeping in the room that way.”

“What?!” He asks loudly, leaning to peer at the door with a confused and anxious look. You clamp your hand over his mouth for the second time today and he winces.

“My brother… Trevor… He already saw your box and stole some stuff from it… I can easily steal the shit back, but the joint is probably going to be gone.”

“Fuck.” He says, raising a hand to his forehead.

“I’m sorry, I can easily just pay you for it.” You say, looking down at the floor.

“I’m not worried about the pot, or whatever else he took.” He says, kissing the top of your head. “I just wanted to actually meet your family in a better manner. Make them realize I’m not a freak or anything.” He takes your silence for a beat and then tilts your chin up to kiss him. You can’t really think of a reply; your mind immediately empties and fills with a rose colored fog. You gingerly kiss him back, wrapping your arms around your neck.

“He took your condoms,” You reveal as you reach down to peel the shirt off of his body.

“I just got cock-blocked by your brother?!” He asks louder this time, groaning loudly in exasperation. You smack his bare chest lightly and he sighs with a smile, wrapping his arms around your waist touching your forehead to his. You’re both quiet for a while, just holding each other until Eddie begins to shiver.

“I might still have a condom around here.” You mumble, closing your eyes.

“What? You had other boys in here?” He asks, gripping you tighter. You can feel his eyes on you, studying your reaction as you become interested in the swirling patterns of the carpet.

“God, no. I just… would keep them in here from our Indy nights hoping eventually we could be together completely since I’ll be alone when they’re taking Trevor to Purdue…” You say sheepishly, looking up at him. “We would have had the whole house to ourselves for a week.”

He grins at this admission, picking you up and spinning you around once. He’s spending more time kissing you, carefully touching your face as if you’d crumble.

“I’d like to have sex with you though.” You admit, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“I’m happy to do anything with you, doesn’t have to be sex… but… it would be nice to have you in a more comfortable place other than my van or wherever else we can manage… I am very interested in what may be underneath this thing…” He says, glancing down.

His hand reaches down to lift the hem of your faded, frilly sky blue gingham nightdress. You feel your face heat up in embarrassment this time, forgetting what you were wearing. This was not your outfit of choice for when you first had Eddie in your room. You hide your face in your hands while his beautiful laugh rings out against the walls. He kneels down to place incredibly soft kisses to your thighs. You sigh his name softly as your hand falls to his hair.

“I can’t believe that fucker tried anything with my girl… My beautiful princess…” He whispers, the cold tip of his nose brushing against your warm skin. He gently pushes you back to sit on the edge of your bed. “He wouldn’t even know how to treat you right.” He presses a gentle kiss to the side of your knee.

“I never wanted him, I was just being nice but he just assumed I did.” You say, moving the hair out of his face, leaning down to kiss him tenderly. “Can you stay please?”

“I know, I know... Baby, I’m not leaving your side.” He assures you between kisses, standing up to peel off his tight, ripped black jeans to stand before you see him in his wet boxers. You lean back on your hands and admire what’s in front of you for the time being.

“Condom in the drawer?” He asks, walking over to your bedside table. You reach out for him as he opens the drawer to find a pink vibrator. He gasps out loud at the finding while he pulls it from its resting place, grabbing a condom with his other hand. “Well, well, is this what you have to use when I’m not inside you…”

“Shut up…” You groan as you hide your face again, blushing. You feel him grinning and trying not to laugh as he moves closer to you.

“Don’t be embarrassed… I can assure you, I’ll be using whatever aid I can while you’re gone, especially the tape from this afternoon…” He says softly, his hands reaching out to uncover your face. “But I’m going to use this until you can’t take it anymore and then I’m going to pump you full of my cum, got that?”

You nod shakily, biting your lip in anticipation.

“Such a good girl.” He praises, pressing a deeper kiss than before onto your lips.

His hands cup your face before one hand begins its slow descent down to the edge of your nightdress again. You can’t hold back a soft moan when his nails lightly drag up your thigh. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, kissing your neck as a set of calloused fingers reaches your exposed clit. Your back arches up to greet him as he gently pulls the straps of your dress down to expose your chest. He captures your nipple between his teeth gently before sucking and kissing your breasts all over. You cover your mouth to muffle the unholy sound that just escaped you. You can feel his smile against your collarbone.

“As much as I love you… I would love it even more if your parents didn’t find me corrupting you so I didn’t have to jump out the window, although you make the best noises…” He whispers with a grin as he presses the pad of his finger against your opening.

You moan quietly against your hand as it pushes past inside of you, Eddie continuing to suck and bite gently on your breast. He pumps his finger inside of you gently, pressing your hip down with one hand. He’s beginning to pick up the pace when you hear the sound of a gentle knock. Your eyes widen as he groans quietly, burying his face in your neck.

“I’m not going anywhere, princess.” He whispers into your skin before rolling onto the floor as you quickly pull your quilt over you, just before your bedroom door squeaks open.

“Good night, honey.” Your mother says, poking her head into your dark room. “I didn’t realize you had gotten home earlier. Must have been during the 9 o’clock news.” She crosses over the threshold and takes a few steps into your room.

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t want to bother you two,” You offer lamely with a smile, pulling the blanket over you as you fix your straps.

“Why is your window open? You’ll catch a cold!” She exclaims, starting to move towards it.

“You know how much I love when it rains… I’ll get it!” You say quickly, swinging your feet over the side of the bed where Eddie is currently crouched, hiding with a smirk. You make your way over to the window before slamming it shut and locking it. You nudge the evidence of Eddie’s visit further under your desk as you walk back over into bed. He reaches his hand up quickly to touch your leg as you climb back into bed.

“All right… Well, you know next Sunday we’re driving to Purdue. I’ll leave some extra money and you know that I don’t want that boy Gareth and his freak friends over here while we’re gone. That devil worshiping music is just scary! Plus Jolene, you know Jolene, the one who lives between us says he is wearing black all of the time!” She says, folding her arms with a huff.

Eddie can’t hold it back anymore and snickers which you scramble to cover up with a cough as you move to kick his side gently. He simply reaches up to grab it, placing silent soft kisses on your calf. You feel yourself blushing and start coughing again.

"Are you sure you don't already have a cold?" She asks with a grimace, looking at the window again.

"I'm sure, Mom." You reassure her, pushing the hair back from your face.

“I would never do go over to Gareth's, Mom. I haven't gone over since I was 11... I promise.” You say, nodding and crossing your arms.

“Good. It was bad enough having to pick you up from the Shakespeare club when your friends snuck in alcohol underneath the PTO’s eyes… Then hearing about Gareth’s extracurriculars includes some kind of Satan club… You don’t need to start to do anything reckless.” She says, her frown setting in. Eddie’s fingers ghost up your leg as he kisses the scar from a bike wreck on your calf.

“Mom… That was one time! I’m not even friends with any of them anymore.” You argue, whining slightly, embarrassed for the thousandth time that night.

“Just want you to be safe.” She replies quickly, holding her hands up. “I’ll let you sleep now, I know you’ve got work in the morning.” She exits the room, but not before she straightens up a stack of pictures on your dresser. Eddie pops back up, smirking down at you.

#eddie munson #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things smut #stranger things #eddie x reader #angst with a happy ending

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tenshiharmonia · 2 years

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Bayonetta Recap - Part 1

Hell-o everyone. I’m back once again to bother this corner of the Internet with my Bayonetta OCs (if you can really call them that). Since we finally got a release date for the third game, I thought it would be nice to write a little recap of what I’ve imagined so far regarding those characters. I must admit, I’m not as hyped as I thought I would be about this new game. Don’t get me wrong, what we have seen so far looks absolutely exquisite. It’s just that I really detest it when a franchise inserts the notion of multiverse in its plot. It’s a matter of personal taste that sadly cannot be helped, but really, it’s a sure way to pretty much kill any interest I might have in something... Okay, I may be exaggerating a little, but still, it usually leaves quite a sour taste in my mouth. I don’t know, most of the time, I just feel like all it does is undermine the bond between the spectator and the story, cheapening the narrative value of both the characters and the events. I mean, how is Cereza supposed to be "One of a Kind" when there are so many of her ? Don’t get me wrong, there are certainly ways to pull it off, and the notion having technically been part of the franchise since the very beginning makes it a little easier to swallow, but it definitely tainted my enthusiasm quite a bit. Then again, I’m still fully intending to purchase the game. The positives definitely outclass the negatives. It’s just that, I’m feeling a lot more lukewarm about it than I used to and it kind of pains me a little... Anyway, as I pointed out, it’s merely a matter of personal taste, so feel free to ignore that paragraph. :p For the rest, it goes without saying that everything I came up with so far is solely based on the first two games. I don’t know how the third one will affect the content of this recap, but we’ll worry about that in due time. Without further ado, I thus welcome you for one more chimeric dive into my imaginary world. I hope you’ll enjoy the trip. ^_^

First of all, for those of you who may not have read my previous posts on the matter, I’d like to make a quick summary of the context surrounding those characters. All in all, the initial concept was ultimately quite simple, and I dare say, not particularly original. Playing the games, I just got the idea of a male Umbra Witch whose main animal form would be a black lion with a golden mane. For good measure, I also decided to give him a Lumen Sage sister, and it all stemmed from this. I still have to work on the exact details, soi t might be subject to change, but the basic idea is that they started off as a pair of orphaned street urchins. Although they are actually not related by blood, they’ve always thought of each other as siblings. Somehow (that part is especially unclear), they ended up in Vigrid and were taken in by the two clans, quickly demonstrating a remarkable level of midi-chlorians spiritual energy. However, while the boy - Máni - displayed a strong affinity for darkness, the girl - Apollonia - proved more sensible to Light. To help them reach their full potential, it was thus agreed that each clan would take care of one sibling : Máni was therefore taken in by the Witches, while Apollonia went with the Sages. Still, their bond remained unbreakable. I like to imagine that the relations between the two clans were a lot more cordial back then. So while it was, officially speaking, frowned upon, it was kind of an open secret that the two siblings were still in contact with each other. Of course, the birth of a certain child soured the relationship between the two factions to an unprecedented extent. In the midst of this brewing conflict, Máni and Apollonia grew up to be formidable magic wielders, hoping to become a bridge between light and darkness, treating their infernal and heavenly partners not just like tools, but like actual friends and individuals. But the machinations of Paradiso were soon to turn rivalry and distrust into full-on hostility. The two siblings did their best to prevent the situation from degenerating into an actual war, but when it became evident that neither the Witches nor the Sages were willing to listen to reason and back off, the two of them were left with no other choice but to flee Vigrid, refusing to fight a senseless and fratricidal war.

With the help of their otherworldly friends, angels and demons alike, they settled somewhere else and founded their own town, Glitnir, the Radiant City, where light, darkness and humans were free to coexist. A secret community that has quietly lived on the fringes of society for the past five hundred years. However, they seem to have been a lot more active as of late. So when a chance encounter leads Bayonetta and Máni to cross paths, the feisty Witch is left with quite a lot of questions. Another survivor of the Umbra Clan ? She’ll have to get to the bottom of this ! Feeling that something huge is afoot in the shadows, and with one of the boy’s bullets as her sole clue, Cereza thus sets off in pursuit of the mysterious lad, determined to shed some metaphorical light on that affair... Aaand this is pretty much all I’ve got in terms of plot. As you can see, I like to imagine that Apollonia and Máni would start off as antagonists. I have yet to determine what their grand design could be and why it would pit them against Bayo, but one of their core aspects would be that they are genuinely righteous and well-intentioned - albeit slightly misguided - bad guys. So when it’ll become clear that they messed up big time, they’ll humbly swallow their pride and join forces with Cereza to help her fight whatever calamity they’ve brought upon the world, turning into full-fledged allies from then on. As I pointed out though, I still have no idea what their master plan could be. Well, I guess this isn’t entirely true. I had in mind that their ambition was to sever the connections between the three realms of the Trinity, to free humanity once and for all from the nefarious influences of Inferno and Paradiso. I’m still on the fence about it, though. I don’t know how to put it, but it feels as if the concept makes sense and doesn’t at the same time. I mean, when you take their backstory into account, it would be logical for them to want to free humanity from the meddling of the other realms. But at the same time, their entire philosophy is based on the peaceful coexistence of angels, demons and humans. I imagine that all their friends could be just as fed up as them of Heaven and Hell, but still, I feel like it would kind of contradict their ideology. Then again, coming to terms with this contradiction could also be part of their personal journey. I’m not entirely convinced yet, but watching them open their eyes and realize that turning the human world into a gigantic walled garden won’t solve anything - on top of having unforeseen and disastrous consequences - would certainly make for an interesting storyline. I think it would also make sense for their plan to involve Omne in some way, as a being who stands at the limit between light and darkness, but we know so little about it and the role it plays in the Trinity of Realities, that I fin dit a little difficult to devise a plot it could fit in...

Anyway, I think that this sums up the general idea pretty well. If you have any question, feel free to ask me. I don’t know if I’ll really be able to give you an answer, but it’d be a good occasion for me to flesh those characters out and think about all kinds of details that might have eluded me. ^_^ For now though, let’s get better acquainted with the two siblings and all the colorful characters who gravitate around them. I tried to be as organized and exhaustive as possible, but it’s still quite a mess. So once again, don’t hesitate to ask me if there is a point you think wasn’t clear enough. With that being said, let’s begin this recap by taking a look at the main boy himself. Let’s-a go !

(For the sake of readability, I will be dividing this recap in multiple posts. I hope you don’t mind. :p )

#bayonetta #bayonetta 2 #bayonetta 3 #original characters #character concept #recap #part 1 #it's more of an introduction actually #máni #apollonia #umbra witch #lumen sage #paradiso #inferno #backstory

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violetlumin · 5 months

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11/30/23

Hi all. This is just a little prologue for my last poem of November. It's a long one.

First, thank y'all for all the likes and follows. I honestly wasn't expecting any of this to be seen. I appreciate y'all joining me in this poem writing journey.

Today is the last day of November, and the last day of my challenge. Although I may not write a poem everyday anymore, I'll still try to write one when I feel inspired. Maybe every other day. Maybe every week. Not sure yet. However, I will be keeping this account active.

I also want to use this Tumblr to post some of my art. I've had a Wacom tablet collecting dust for years now, and I'd like to use it to finally make the stories I've cooked up in my head come to life.

Please enjoy my last poem. To be honest..... I'm not even sure if this counts as one? It's quite long, and actually the first one I wrote. I'd like to make edits, but figured I'd post it as is. I wrote it at around 2am. Bear with me.

Poem 30

Nov. 30, 2023

I grieve for people I have not yet lost

For tragedies that have not yet passed

For stories that have not yet closed

For pain that has yet to be realized

Hellbent on hurting myself before the universe has the opportunity

Maybe it's to soften the blow?

I’m simply grieving the inevitable, no?

If my fantasies are indeed more tragic that my realities

The latter cannot hurt me

If my mind can be more cruel than fate

I have nothing to fear

Night after night I dream of the worst scenarios

Obsess over what could go wrong

Fight peace

Sleep with ghosts

Weighed down by the things I’m too weak to tell you

Death looms over me

An adversary of my own construction

I’ve looked into death’s eyes

And saw nothing

Absolutely devoid of meaning

Of emotion

No love

No malice

Not as though it could distinguish the two, anyway

The thought itself is suffocating

I miss you but you’re still here

I loathe the thought of the world spinning in my absence

I may choke on my own thoughts

I’d hate to make you worry over nothing

But what if it’s not nothing this time?

What if it’s NOT nothing this time?

Your reassurance does nothing to quell my fears

It’s not rational

I know it’s not

Something awoke inside me that day

That simply cannot be put back to rest

So I lie with it

Night after night

Even our happy times are now tinged with sadness

I am consumed by the realization that this cannot last forever

That one night will be the last night you’ll rest beside me

That, try as I might, I can’t hold onto this forever

Is it selfish to ask you to stay here?

To stay chained to me forever?

To follow me for eternity?

To drown with me?

I desperately want you to make promises to me that you can’t keep

The small voice in the back of my head has become loud and incessant

I want you to have the peace I can’t seem to find

Truth is

I will never be satisfied

No matter the amount of time I cherish with you

I’ll be bitter over the time missed

Ten days

Ten years

Ten decades

It makes no difference to me

Anything less than an eternity is a slight

So I soak in my bitterness

Night after night

I ache thinking of what you’d do

If I left this realm before you

How your feeling for me may fade

How one day you’ll seldom think of me

How the void I left may one day be filled

How you may one day forget how I made you complete

How many true loves can you have in one lifetime?

For my own sake

I hope to God

It’s only one

May no one else ever pour into your well

I admit

I hope you suffer in my absence

I hope my memory consumes you

I hope my ghost haunts you

That our paths end at the same point

That you may never quite reach the peaks you did with me

That you can be content, but never truly happy again

That you carry me with you forever

That you act as if I’m still there

That you still love me

That you can never escape me

I don’t want you to love anyone else

The way you love me

How deranged, right?

Your love inspires me to be incredibly selfish

To want the worst for you

Because it works best for me

So I revel in my hateful thoughts

Night after night

Praying to none

That you never recognize

The darkness sat beside you

#poetry #poets on tumblr #poet #writing #poem #anxitey #Spotify

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sukirichi · 3 years

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the morning after – gojo satoru ver!

warnings: slight dirty talk and suggestive content, like the yuuji one, nothing too explicit! Oh and a teasing, cheeky gojo :>

masterlist ! (photo not mine)

It doesn’t hit you until you’re whacked by an arm in the face. Literally.

You whine and push the foreign weight away that smushed your nose at the impact, less than pleased because you’re having the best of your life, but someone had to ruin it. Nevertheless, you refuse to open your eyes and settle into the warmth that encases you in that moment. It reminds you of your precious unicorn plushie you left back at your apartment; cuddly, precious, keeps the nightmares away, but the best part about this human teddy bear is that he’s all firm muscles and body heat instead of fur cotton.

Wait, what? Human?

It’s when you hear the man stirring above you with a husky groan that you freeze in your spot, eyes snapping wide open your vision blurs for a split second. The first thing you see is smooth skin and firm pecs, followed by a slender, strong neck and a sharp jawline – oh god.

So last night wasn’t a dream.

Clenching your teeth and even biting the inside of your cheeks to stop squealing – more out of embarrassment and shame than happiness, really – you slowly reach up between your squished bodies to pinch your cheeks, bringing blood and feeling back into them. No wonder you’ve slept so well last night, and as someone who prefers pulling an all-nighter until you pass out in the middle of an anime series, it’s quite rare to find a good eight hour sleep.

It’s not like you had much...activities performed that would take up too much energy. Until Gojo Satoru came, the teacher from the Tokyo school, and also the notoriously infamous “strongest jujutsu sorcerer.”

You’ve had a crush on him the moment you’ve started working as a teacher in the Kyoto school. Utahime, who was closer to him, was incredibly appalled when you told her one day about your raging crush on the white-haired man who looked absolutely breathtaking with his blindfold, but without them?

Just the thought of having seen them last night, when he was between your legs, no less, has you inwardly groaning and cringing so hard you feel so shameful that you can’t even look him in the eye. Satoru is fast asleep above you, one of his strong arms lazily draped over the curve of your waist and his fingers brushing against your bum. When you shift a little to give you both space, his fingers begin to hover dangerously close to a sensitive area and you let out a tiny squeak, muffling it with the back of your fist before he awakens.

This man had the Six Eyes – the last thing you wanted was for him to sense and notice the little things and wake up. No, you had to leave before he even gets the chance to move.

The chances of not waking him up was pretty slim, but you’ve always been proud of your sneaky movements that you try anyway. Fortunately, Satoru doesn’t seem to be a hardcore cuddler because he doesn’t pull you back when you finally slip past the sheets.

You freeze for a moment at the edge of the bed, still in disbelief that you actually slept with him. No, no, that’s wrong, you’d have slept with him anytime if he allowed it but – he actually slept with you. It’s not that you’re looking down on yourself because you’re also a special grade sorcerer and could stand your own ground confidently, but your powers when it comes to exorcising and your social skills are two different things that don’t even come close together.

You’re not worried that a special grade curse would kill you and take away your privilege of finishing that new manga you bought in your day off because you know you could handle it easily, but as a person, there’s a stark difference between you and Satoru.

True, he wasn’t exactly liked by everyone because he refused to be limited by rules and regulations, always claiming that one should not be hindered by the narrow-mindedness of the others, but it was something you really admired about him because you’re not like that. You’re old school, sticking by the book, much like his co-worker Nanami Kento who equally hates overtime, and while Gojo Satoru was loud and confident, you’re more of the person who stays by a corner during a party.

Which is exactly what happened last night at Utahime’s birthday party – aka the old wrinkly principal isn’t here so let’s get wasted type of party.

You’re not surprised that Gojo Satoru walked in, but when he did, you had to clutch your spirit water and drink it in haste because he’s got you feeling thirstier than you did last night – and you drink your water plenty. But how could you remain sane when he looked so gorgeous in just his uniform and his laughter has butterflies erupting in your stomach?

Truth was, you’re satisfied watching him from afar. It’s not like you ever plan on asking him out or being his friend because you’re sure Satoru has better things to do and prettier people to talk to, so when he sits next to you in the desolate leather couch, legs crossed over one another and his arm right behind you (although not touching, he respects your space) you nearly pass out.

One thing leads to another, and you find yourself writhing under his arms, shamelessly crying his name over and over again until the dead hours of the night that has his ego inflating.

You don’t remember how or exactly why it happened, but definitely, alcohol had to be involved. There’s no way Gojo Satoru would actually notice you, much less sleep with you, when he’s completely sober, which is why you scramble around the room with the blanket covering your bare body as you look for your discarded clothes.

If he wakes up and sees you, he’ll probably regret everything that happened last night, if he remembers any of it, anyway.

But you’re most definitely mostly sober through the whole thing, so you remember how good he was in making you feel like a goddess. The way he sucked on your neck, licking a stripe at your burning skin while his large hands groped your breasts possessively, all the while rutting in that perfect spot that has your eyes rolling at the back of your head with your nails running down his back – you shiver just thinking about it.

Gojo Satoru really has that effect on people.

You hide your flustered state and quickly pull on your undergarments, about to slip the sweater over your head, only to die on the inside because you realize you’re wearing those full cotton panties instead of sexy lingerie. With a groan, you fight back the urge to cry. But then again, who could blame yourself for not dressing sexily? It’s not like you had any idea that this would happen.

You’re halfway through your jeans when Gojo’s husky morning voice breaks through the silence. “Leaving already?” you hear him smile, although your back is turned to him, face completely morphed into terror. “Such a shame. I was actually thinking shower sex sounds nice – if you’re into that, of course.”

“Satoru,” you greet lamely with a bow, avoiding the way his stunning eyes raked over your form with an unreadable dark expression. “Uh, you’re awake, and...good morning, I guess.”

Gojo smirks at your flushed cheeks, and it takes everything not to stare at the way his biceps strain from the way he supports his head, hair sticking in every direction and looking absolutely sexy in the morning light. “Good morning to you too, Y/N,” your breath stifles, because he knows your name? “Although it would be an ever better morning if you weren’t such in a rush to leave,” he chuckles, “It makes me feel like maybe you regret what happened last night.”

Your head snaps up at his words as you shakily wiggle your arms, “No, that’s not true, I loved every second of it! It was...it was the best night of my life,” your cheeks tinge a shade darker when Gojo beams at your words, chest almost puffing out proudly. Shyly, you turn away from him and fiddle with the hem of your sweatshirt. “I just...I didn’t think you’d still want me here around, because you were drunk last night and all and I thought maybe you’ll regret it, which I don’t want to happen so yeah, I just thought I’d leave before I get to...” you clear your throat awkwardly, “...be rejected like that.”

“Y/N,” his voice falls an octave lower, the thoughts in your head growing so loud you don’t even hear that he’s already left the bed, and now he’s cradling your chin until you’re forced to witness the galaxies burning in his eyes. “You thought I was drunk last night and did it because I was just horny? That I would regret it and forget all about it?”

His proximity has your breath stuttering, your eyelashes slapping your cheeks as you blink rapidly. “Well, uhm, I’m not really your type, so I think it was safe to assume that.”

Gojo hums at your words, his calloused thumb running over your lips. A small smile flits across his face when he remembers how much of a good girl you were for him last night, obediently opening those lips up and letting him bask in the warmth of your wet cavern before swallowing all he has to give. Funnily enough, Gojo isn’t the best with his words, so he just tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before sighing.

“I wasn’t drunk,” he finally admits. The confession has you slipping from his grasp, but Gojo snakes his arm around the small of your back to pull you to him, the warmth of his bare skin seeping into your clothes. However, it’s nothing compared to the lust and adoration burning in his eyes – one you can’t properly fathom in this clouded state. “Tipsy, sure, but I assure you I was aware and sober for every little part,” his lips hover at your ear, one of his hands coming at the back of your neck to tilt your head to the side, granting him access to the hickeys he’d purposely left.

Just the sight of his markings on your perfect body has a tent growing in his pants. You feel his erection rub at the pad of your jeans, eliciting a small whine from you, and this makes Gojo resist the urge to bend you over right then and there. But he doesn’t do that, because he knows your body is too tired from his ministrations, and he’s nice enough to give you a break – even if that’s not exactly what your burning core wants at that moment.

“Like the way you clenched around my cock when I hit that sensitive spot of yours,” he laughs when you shiver at the way his breath tickles you, “Or how pretty you look when you cream around my cock, begging me to go harder because you can take it, and baby, I promise you, I loved it just as much as you did.”

Finally, Gojo pulls back, and he’s extremely satisfied when he sees how small and innocent you look just like that, as if he hadn’t just folded you in half to watch the way your pretty pussy welcome him and take him better than anyone else just hours ago.

“But,” he continues, “I think I enjoyed it a lot more, considering I’ve wanted to do that for such a long time now,” at his words, you furrow your brows, and that’s when he realizes his mistake. Gojo reverts back to his usual lighthearted self and fans his hand out almost comically with his hands on his hips. “I mean, not just the sex, though it is amazing, but having you close is what I meant. Like holding your hand or getting to kiss you,” he sighs dreamily as if you’re not in the same room as him.

“Uh,” you awkwardly begin, unsure of what to say. “Are you saying you like me?”

“Yeah,” he smirks, which shouldn’t have been such a sexy look on him, but because he’s Gojo, it was. “But Utahime said she’d cut my balls off if I even get near you. Thank goodness she was too drunk last night to ever see it, but I’m glad I talked to you. I’m just ashamed I’m only saying this after the sex but...would you like to go out with me?”

Thanks to his Six Eyes ability, Gojo is blessed with the privilege of seeing you malfunction before him as you try to find your words.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader imagines #gojo x reader smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader imagines #gojo satoru x reader imagines #gojo satoru imagines #jjk gojo satoru #gojo satoru fic #gojo x reader headcanon #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen smut

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thearvariblues · 3 years

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The Mysterious Case of Jaskier's Immortality

Word count: 3601

“So nice to see you again, Yennefer,” Jaskier says, putting on one of his many fake smiles.

“Jaskier,” she replies with a smile that almost looks genuine but Jaskier is pretty sure that it’s not. Which she confirms a few seconds later by saying: “Shouldn’t you be dead already?”

“I see you’re as kind as always, my dear. But don’t you worry, Geralt is doing a very good job when it comes to protecting me.”

“Hm,” Geralt sighs resignedly, clearly regretting his decision to spend the night in an inn instead of the middle of a forest.

To be fair, it was Jaskier who suggested it, claiming that he refused to be eaten by angry drowners, no matter how many times Geralt tried to explain to him that the probability of finding a drowner in the middle of a very dry forest is extremely low.

If Jaskier knew they were going to run into Yennefer in the inn, he would have risked the drowners.

“I don’t doubt that,” Yennefer smirks. “But seriously, how old are you, bard?”

“No idea. I stopped counting after fifty, I think.”

“You know, you don’t look fifty,” she says.

“Oh, well, my mother had an elf lover before I was born, so there’s a fifty-fifty chance that I’m not gonna age anytime soon. Sorry,” Jaskier smiles again, sweetly – and this time, it’s genuine.

“As if,” Geralt grunts.

“I’m sorry, dear?” Jaskier blinks.

“Come on, Jaskier, it doesn’t work like that. You’re a viscount, that means your father must have been a viscount, too.”

“You don’t know much about nobility, do you, Geralt?” Yennefer snorts.

“Hm,” Geralt grunts. “Still, he’s not a half-elf.”

“Let me guess, you’re a Witcher, therefore you could smell it if I was? I hate to break it to you, dear heart, but you’re going to have your nose checked.”

“You’re not a half-elf, Jaskier,” Geralt repeats. “You’re not immortal, you just… look young.”

“Yeah, right, you got me,” Jaskier shrugs. “I just look good because I moisturize. Happier now?”

“Much,” Geralt nods. “See? You can be honest if you want.”

“Yup,” Jaskier nods. “Honesty personified. Now please excuse me, I need to go and moisturize some more. Internally. With ale.”

“I’m actually a mermaid, you know?” Jaskier grins the next time he’s asked, this time by a very confused and very old Valdo Marx.

“A siren, Jaskier. Not a mermaid,” Geralt sighs, praying to Melitele to give him strength. “And you’d know that, of course, if you actually were a siren.”

“Just so you know, the term siren is actually quite offensive to my people.”

“You mean idiots?” Geralt chuckles. “You’re not a siren, Jask.”

“Can you prove that I’m not?”

“Well, last week you tripped and fell into this creek that was like… knee-deep, and you nearly drowned.”

“I was in shock!” Jaskier proclaims dramatically. “But I have a proof that I am, or at least could be a siren.”

“What proof?”

“Well, my lovely voice, of course!”

“Not as lovely as you think it is,” Valdo Marx snorts.

“Come on, Jaskier,” Geralt sighs, ignoring the old troubadour. “You have much better voice that any siren I’ve ever heard.”

“Geralt of Rivia!” Jaskier gasps, clutching his chest. “Was that a compliment?!”

“Fuck,” Geralt mutters. “I didn’t mean…”

“Really though, Jaskier,” Valdo says. “How?”

“That’s a secret I’ll take to the grave, I’m afraid,” Jaskier grins. “Once I manage to reach it.”

“Keep on with the bullshit, Jaskier,” Geralt growls, “and you can reach it tonight.”

“Fifty years traveling with him, and he still thinks he can scare me. Cute, isn’t he?” Jaskier laughs. “Oh, Geralt you could never.”

“Try me.”

“All right, I’ll tell you my secret,” Jaskier winks at Ciri, who lifts an eyebrow. “I’ve got this neat… magic ring.”

“Hmmm,” Ciri observes. “Looks like a normal signet ring to me.”

“Well… Yeah, well, it looks like it, all right, but actually–”

“Jaskier, I was born a princess. This is clearly a Pankratz family signet ring.”

“Damn,” Jaskier groans. “Like father like daughter, eh?”

“Sorry,” Ciri shrugs.

“I got myself cursed.”

Triss Merigold lifts an eyebrow.

“Somebody cursed you to live forever, is that so?” she asks and her voice is almost dripping with disbelief.

“More like cursed me,” Geralt murmurs.

“Oh, shut up, Witcher, you know you couldn’t live without me,” Jaskier smiles brightly, and Geralt has to bite his cheek to stop himself from smiling back.

“Hm,” he says instead.

“Eloquent as ever,” Jaskier nods.

“Would you like me to...” Triss clears her throat. “You know, try to lift the curse?”

“No!” Geralt yells before he can stop himself.

“See?” Jaskier beams. “You could never live without me!”

“A bruxa,” Jaskier repeats to a young man who claims to be his son, but looks older than his supposed father.

“You’re not a bruxa, Jaskier!” Geralt whines.

“Excuse me, and how would you know?”

“Because I’m a fucking Witcher?!”

“Well, you’re clearly a fucking horrible Witcher if you haven’t noticed until now!”

“I think I’d notice if you tried to sneak out of the camp at nights to feed,” Geralt comments, crossing his hands. “You can’t even sneak out to take a piss, Jask.”

“Maybe I do that on purpose!”

“Besides, bruxae are mostly women.”

“Mostly being the important word here.”

“Fuck’s sake, Jaskier. You won’t even eat a piece of meat if it’s not so well-done that it’s almost cremated.”

“Do you know how disgusting the blood is, Geralt?!” Jaskier groans, and then immediately blinks when he realizes what he just said. “I meant…”

“Case closed,” Geralt nods, satisfied.

“Oh, dear,” Jaskier mutters. “I fucking hate you sometimes.”

“Uhm, my lords, if I may,” the young man says.

“Hate to break it to you, kid, but if you’re aging like a normal human, you’re probably not my son,” Jaskier shrugs. “Sorry. I get it why your mum might be confused, though. It was quite a night, with at least four–”

“And that’s enough,” Geralt says, grabbing Jaskier by the collar and pulling him away from the man. “You know, lifting the curse seems like a good idea now.”

“There isn’t really a curse, Geralt,” Jaskier laughs.

Geralt sighs, his lips curling into a tiny smile that Jaskier cannot see.

“Thank fuck.”

“You see, we were in a crazy mage’s tower and I saw this bottle and I thought it was slivovitz, so I drank it, but it seems that it actually was some sort of an immortality potion,” Jaskier explains to a lady at the ball, whose grandmother he’d apparently fucked once, when said grandmother was still a young, unmarried woman.

Geralt only blinks, because it’s the first truly plausible explanation for Jaskier’s mysterious immortality.

“Oh, that must be so horrible to watch everyone you love die!” the woman nods enthusiastically. “Perhaps you’d like to tell me about it in private?”

“Of course, my dear…” Jaskier smiles. “Just… wait a second. How old is your mother?”

“Forty-seven, why?”

Jaskier’s lips are moving silently for a few seconds while he counts, and then thy turn into a wide grin.

“No reason, dear,” he says, offering her his arms. “Shall we?”

When Jaskier and the lady flee the ball, Geralt pulls out his flask of White Gull and pours its contents into his empty tankard.

So, a potion…

“There is no such thing as an immortality potion, Geralt,” Yennefer shakes her head.

“How can you be so sure?” Geralt asks. “Maybe this mage really did find a way to at least make the human life longer!”

“And why would he do that?” Yennefer scoffs. She has been doing that a lot since she finally ended their relationship for good about twenty years ago. (He later found out that she had left him for none other than Triss Merigold, but Yennefer still doesn’t know that he knows, and he’s having way too much fun with it to break the fact to her. So right now, he is pretending he doesn’t notice that Triss is eavesdropping on their conversation behind the door leading to Yennefer’s bedroom, and that he absolutely believed Yen when she claimed that the loud thud a few minutes ago was caused by a cat.) “We are immortal, Geralt, unless killed. There is no reason for any of us to make a potion that would make a human live forever.”

“Well, perhaps this mage fell in love with a human and wanted them to stay with him!”

Yennefer pauses, inspecting Geralt from head to toe and back again, and then she sighs.

“Oh, Geralt. Really?”

“Really what?” Geralt blinks, genuinely confused.

“Oh,” Yennefer murmurs. “Oh, no. Really?”

“Really what, Yen?”

“You mean you don’t… Oh, dear gods. Really?”

“Yen, I swear that I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Geralt grunts, frowning.

Yennefer rolls her eyes and tries counting to ten to calm herself down. She doesn’t even get to three before Geralt’s eyes go wide.

“Oh,” he whispers. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed, Geralt,” she nods solemnly. “Fuck, indeed.”

“I found a djinn, he granted me a wish,” Jaskier says when Geralt asks him, about five minutes after his meeting with Yennefer. (He agreed to use a portal to get to the bard as soon as possible. A fucking portal!) The bard is sitting in a tavern and eating his dinner, utterly undisturbed by the sudden appearance of an angrier-than-usual Witcher.

“You never mentioned a djinn,” Geralt growls. “And after your last encounter with one, I sincerely doubt you’d engage with another.”

“You clearly don’t know me at all–”

“Besides, Valdo Marx, as far as I know, had an apoplexy while fucking a young student on his desk, and I don’t think you’d ever let him die like that if you had a choice.”

“You see, that was kind of a my mistake, since I didn’t specify the time and the circumstances of his apoplexy in my wish, so…”

“What was your third wish?”

“Pardon me?”

“Your immortality, Valdo Marx dropping dead, that’s two. What was the third one? And don’t even try to mention the Countess de Stael, since you’d have to dig her up first.”

“That was disgusting, even for you, you know that, Geralt?”

“How are you immortal, Jaskier?!”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Jaskier puts a piece of bread in his mouth and grins.

“Maybe some other time, Witcher.”

“I am a fae,” Jaskier replies a day later.

“You’re not a fucking fae, bard.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you fucking lie, Jaskier. All the time.”

“Fuck. Didn’t think of that.”

“You see, there was this artifact–”

Geralt closes his eyes, turning Roach around.

“Let’s consult Yennefer about this.”

“Oh, mother of…” Jaskier whines. “All right, no artifact, there was no artifact! Geralt, I’m telling you, there was no…”

“You’re not a succubus.”

“But it would be a perfect explanation, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re not succubus, because if you were, you’d know that a male one is called an incubus.”

“Oh, you and your stupid Witcher terms again.”

“You’re not an incubus, Jaskier, because if you were, I could never let you near Eskel.”

“All right… Explain, please?”

Geralt grunts.

“I’d really rather not.”

“A dragon,” Jaskier grins victoriously.

“No,” Geralt says, shaking his head.

“No,” Jaskier agrees with a sigh.

“You know you could just tell me the truth and be done with it, right?”

“Hm… No.”

“All right, enough is enough,” Jaskier growls that night in their rented room, tossing his doublet aside. “You’ve asked me three times today, Geralt. Why the sudden interest in my immortality?”

“As you said, enough is enough. You’ve been traveling with me for what, a hundred years?”

“A hundred and four.”

“Yes, and you still look the same as the day I met you in Posada!” Geralt growls. “And it drives me mad!”

“It wasn’t driving you insane for at least fifty years, so why the sudden change of heart?”

“Fuck off, bard. You don’t have to tell me. I don’t care.”

“But you do, Geralt,” Jaskier says, taking a step towards the Witcher. “Why?”

He’s standing in Geralt’s personal space, his chemise half undone, and he’s watching Geralt with those sincere blue eyes, and Geralt can’t fucking think…

“Because I love you, you idiot!” he snaps. “Because I fucking love you and I need to know if I can love you, or you’re gonna just drop dead one day without a warning!”

“Oh,” Jaskier whispers, his lips forming into a huge, happy smile. “Oh, fucking finally.”

“Fucking… what?” Geralt blinks, his arms suddenly full of an enthusiastic bard.

“I love you too, you silly Witcher,” Jaskier laughs. “I’ve loved you for a hundred years! Well, a hundred and four, but who’s counting?”

“You…” Geralt mutters.

“Silly, silly Witcher,” Jaskier repeats, pressing his lips against Geralt’s in a kiss that could be described as chaste, or at least the chastest Jaskier has ever been capable of. “We’re going to Lettenhove in the morning.”

“We are?”

“Oh, yes,” Jaskier whispers. “See, I’ve told you the truth about the source of my immortality once. But I think you need to see it to believe me.”

“Wait, you have? When?” Geralt asks. “Was it the artifact? Just tell me, I promise I won’t make you consult it with–”

“Shut up now,” Jaskier says, kissing Geralt again with way less chastity than before. “And in the meantime, believe me this – you can keep loving me, and I’m not planning on dropping dead anytime soon. Also, I’ve spent the last hundred years imagining fucking you senseless, so if you’re not opposed to the idea, perhaps we could, well…”

The kiss that this idea gets him is as far from chaste as one could possibly get.

And Jaskier definitely isn’t about to complain.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Geralt asks as they march towards the Lettenhove castle’s gates. He tugs at his doublet’s collar, way too tight for his liking. He’d much rather walk in there wearing his usual attire, but Jaskier insisted that Geralt must look presentable if he wants to meet his family.

It turns out that it only takes a single I love you to turn the bard into a manipulative bastard. Who would have guessed?

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Jaskier replies, grinning cheerfully. “And stop frowning, you’re gonna scare the servants, love.”

“How long it’s been since your last visit here, Jaskier?” Geralt says, his frown deepening. “Who rules Lettenhove now, hm? Aren’t you only going to be a distant relative, a great-great-uncle risen from the grave?”

“I sure hope not,” Jaskier chuckles, stopping in front of the guards by the gate. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Viscount Julian, here to see the Viscountess Madeleine.”

“How can you still be a viscount?” Geralt blinks when one of the guards promptly disappears inside.

“We kind of decided to, you know, share the title,” Jaskier shrugs. “Seemed fair. Besides, father, well, the former viscount, insisted that I inherit the title, but he never mentioned anything about Mads not inheriting it, so…”

“How could your father have known who the viscount is going to be in almost a hundred years?”

“He really didn’t,” Jaskier chuckles. “See, it will all start to make sense once you meet her.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping for.”

The guard returns a few minutes later, telling them that the Viscountess will meet them in the garden.

Geralt, knowing a thing or two about nobility, think it’s a little weird, but isn’t about to protest. He only thinks he could have left the fancy clothes at the tavern.

“Oh, shut up, you,” Jaskier chuckles when Geralt voices this thought. “You look gorgeous.”

“I know. You’ve mentioned it a few times. But I didn’t have to look like that, because we’re going to meet the ruler of this land in a fucking garden, and–”

“Julian!”

A woman in a long white dress throws herself at Jaskier, who happily catches her. Geralt’s first instinct is to reach for his sword, only to realize that he (luckily) left it in the tavern – because Jaskier insisted, of course.

“Madeleine,” Jaskier chuckles. “You haven’t aged a day.”

“Oh, yes. Shocking, isn’t it?” she laughs, pulling away from him, and for the first time, Geralt truly looks at her.

The woman is shorter than Jaskier, slim, and her dress is much, much simpler than Geralt would have expected considering the fact that is supposed to be a viscountess. She has dark, long hair and her face is so beautiful that it almost – but only almost – takes the focus off her pointed ears.

“Lady Madeleine,” Jaskier grins, “may I introduce Geralt of Rivia, my Witcher. Geralt, this is Lady Madeleine, the current ruler of Lettenhove and my younger sister.”

“You’re…” Geralt blinks.

“A half-elf, yes,” she nods. “Julian! You haven’t told him?”

“Hardly my fault. I really tried,” Jaskier shrugs. “But he just wouldn’t believe me.”

“So you brought him here to prove it to him, rather than to visit your beloved sister? You are a horrible, horrible sibling, Julian!”

“Your… sister,” Geralt mutters, all his thoughts speeding through his head, colliding and falling down, one over another.

“Yes, we definitely share a mother,” Jaskier confirms. “Most likely a father, too, and trust me, it wasn’t the old viscount. Madeleine got the elvish looks, I only got the non-aging bit. Well, apparently.”

“But…” Geralt blinks. “Your father. The title.”

“Yen was right, dear heart, you really don’t know shit about nobility,” Jaskier snorts. “But I admit that even though our dear departed noble father knew that Mads wasn’t his daughter, obviously, it never occurred to him that I might not be his true son.”

“But you don’t age!”

“In his defense, that only became clear after his unfortunate passing.”

“And you aren’t going to start to age anytime soon,” Geralt mutters. “You really aren’t.”

“Told you so, didn’t I?” Jaskier winks, letting go of his sister and wrapping his arms around his lover instead.

“I… I…” Geralt stammers. “Fuck.”

“Maybe later, love,” Jaskier smiles. “Madeleine, my dear, wouldn’t you say that my return calls for a feast?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I have started the preparations the second my spies informed me that you have crossed the border.”

“Oh, so we have spies now?”

“It’s really only a net of nosy old ladies, but it works wonders,” Madeleine laughs. “I must admit, though, that I was only planning a feast to celebrate you coming home, but now I see we have a much better reason to party. Tell me, brother, did you finally get your stupid Witcher?”

Jaskier smiles brightly, turning his head to Geralt.

“Yes. I finally got my stupid Witcher.”

“Party,” the Witcher in question growls. “Is that why you made me dress like a pompous prick?”

“No, that was because while I find your usual self extremely attractive, you still look much better when your hair is properly combed and you’re not covered in monster blood.”

“Hm,” Geralt hums, but wraps his arm around the bard to hold him close.

“Oh, yes, about monsters,” Madeleine says with the most innocent expression Geralt has seen since Ciri broke Vesemir’s favorite vase at Kaer Morhen. “You see, we have a tiny problem with a cockatrice…”

“Right,” Geralt nods. “I’ll go grab my armor from the tavern.”

“That won’t be necessary. I have already arranged for your things to be brought to the castle. And your horse,” she adds before Geralt can even open his mouth. “You can leave for your quest as soon as the servants get here.”

“So much for you not being covered in monster blood,” Jaskier sighs.

“Hm,” Geralt grins. “Lady Madeleine, I suppose you happen to have a bathtub somewhere in the castle?”

“Of course. In fact, there is a private bathroom right next to Julian’s bedroom.”

“Geralt of Rivia,” Jaskier purrs. “You know me so well.”

“Yes, and I expect to get to know you even better. In another hundred years or so.”

Jaskier laughs, pulls Geralt closer to him and kisses him.

“Another thousand years, I’d say.”

“What… the… fuck?!” Geralt croaks, staring at the smouldering remains of the cockatrice that would have surely killed him if Jaskier… If Jaskier…

The bard looks at his hands, then at the cockatrice, and then back at his hands again.

“Geralt? I have a feeling that I’m not really… A half-elf.”

“No shit.”

“I think I might be… Uhm…”

“Oh, shit,” Geralt whispers.

“I suppose, uhm, you know…” Jaskier stammers, wiping his palms on his trousers like he could wipe away the feeling of literal flames shooting out of them mere moments ago.

“Yeah. We’re gonna have to consult this with Yen.”

“Splendid,” Jaskier sighs. “Can it at least wait after the feast?”

“After more than a hundred years of you not even knowing, I think one feast will be fine.”

“Thank the gods. Madeleine would kill me if I tried to leave now,” Jaskier chuckles. “Let’s go, then. We need to get the fried monster remains out of your hair.”

“You’re… I was fucking right! You’re not a half-elf!”

“Yeah, you’re a great Witcher,” Jaskier nods, grabbing Geralt’s arm and dragging him away from the monster. “Didn’t notice I was secretly a fucking mage, but otherwise a great Witcher.”

“Explains a lot, though.”

“Does it now?”

“Yeah. I always had a thing for mages, you know.”

“Oh, Geralt. You’re such a fucking idiot,” Jaskier chuckles.

“Made you laugh,” Geralt shrugs, smiling.

Jaskier shakes his head.

“I’m so, so gonna drown you in that bathtub.”

“My love,” Geralt grins, “you’re more than welcome to try.”

***

Tagging @lottelorelei - I’m sorry I always forget to reply to your lovely comments, but believe me, they always put a big smile on my face! :)

#the witcher #witcher fanfiction #my fics #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #idiots in love #immortal jaskier #non-human jaskier #they're stupid your honor #they share a single braincell #and yennefer has the custody of it #also madeleine hyland is jaskier's sister in this

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elysiadjarin · 3 years

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Day 2: Breeding Kink

Day 2 of Kinktober and… I got carried away with this one. The others are not going to be nearly as long as this one, so you guys are gonna be spoiled with this. I hope you enjoy it! Find my Kinktober Masterlist here.

Warnings: Minors DNI, this is 18+ only content. Some warnings for violence and blood mentioned, though nothing too graphic. PinV sex, unprotected, consensual, nonhuman character, exophilia, slight hint of biting kink

Tags: Dilf!werewolf x reader, exophilia, kinktober

Moonlight Through Colored Leaves

When you’d first moved to the tiny Irish town in the middle of nowhere, you’d originally hoped to escape the family drama that haunted you back in America. Thanks to your grandfather’s Irish immigration, you’d been able to get an Irish citizenship and move relatively easily. So, you’d packed your bags, only told your grandfather where you were going, and boarded the first flight to Ireland you could catch.

You’d quietly made your way to your grandfather’s tiny hometown far out in the countryside, and moved into the long-since abandoned house that had belonged to your ancestors before. Though it had been run down and you’d had to do some major repairs and cleaning, you’d finally made a cozy cottage on the outskirts of the small village-like town.

The town had been quite welcoming and friendly, and you’d quickly found a job working at the local town pub as a waitress. Your boss had been very welcoming, and you’d earned favor from your coworkers and boss for your hard work and quiet, unassuming diligence. The pay was good, and you found yourself growing comfortable in the sleepy town life, meeting your neighbors and getting familiar with the town dynamics.

You’d just gone in for your shift of the day when conversation caught your ear. You put on your waitress apron, pulling your hair up into a ponytail and walking out to the bar to grab your tray.

“Did you hear about the news?” Jaina asked, arms propped on the countertop. “I mean, about that Romanian vamp that landed on Scotland the other day. Word is that he’s headed this way.”

“Well why would it want teh come here?” Sean snorted. “We’re out in teh middle o’ nowhere, Janie, t’ere ain’t not’in’ here t’at it would want.”

“Well didn’t you hear that apparently they’re expecting Agent Blue to be chasing it down with the Dullahan?” Jaina hissed. “Why wouldn’t they come over here?”

You hid your discreet grimace, instead walking out in front of the bar. To your delight and surprise, you found yourself facing a familiar little figure sitting at the bar in a corner. The little girl caught sight of you and squealed, waving.

You went over to her giving her a hug. “Well hello there, Miss Morrigan,” you greeted cheerfully. “How are you this fine evening? Having a drink?” you teased, noticing the glass of juice near her notebook.

She giggled, nodding. “Yeah! I’m with Daddy today,” she answered, feet kicking against the bar. She turned her head to see the bartender approaching. “Daddy!” she said excitedly. “Look, it’s the nice neighbor lady I told you about!”

You looked up to see Lysander Sullivan standing there, polishing a glass with a cloth. He gazed down at his daughter with a fond look deep in his eyes, then turned to look at you, his ice blue eyes meeting yours.

“Is that so?” he asked, his deep voice a low rumble in the relatively quiet bar. It hadn’t gotten to heavy traffic times, so there weren’t many people around yet. His grey-flecked hair had been swept back into an elastic band, and his beard had been neatly trimmed.

You gave him a small, shy smile, a little embarrassed. Though you knew that the man lived next to your property, you’d been a bit timid about approaching him. He was a kind enough gentleman from everything you’d seen and heard, and he’d watched out for you as you worked, but you didn’t see any reason why he’d be interested in any further contact with you. After all, you were a younger woman in your mid-twenties that lived alone.

“Yeah! She helps me with homework sometimes,” Morrigan prattled on, “and she lets me water her flowers!”

You laughed a little, feeling the color splash across your cheeks. “Well, I certainly enjoy the little Queen’s company,” you admitted. You’d heard some of the other workers gossip about Lysander, saying that he was a single father to nine-year-old Morrigan and that her mother had died in a tragic accident. You didn’t really know, and you’d tried not to pry or overhear too much. The man had a right to privacy, just like you had things you were running from as well.

“Thank you for looking out for the little cub,” Lysander said, a small smile crossing his face. He mellowed out around his daughter, his love clear in how he interacted with her.

“Of course. It’s a delight,” you said, smiling at Morrigan. “She’s a smart little cookie, aren’t you, Queenie?” you asked, tugging at her pigtail teasingly.

She giggled. “Yeah!” Then she tilted her head at you. “Are you working with Daddy tonight?” she asked curiously.

“O-oh, well, sort of,” you stammered, taken aback a little. “He works behind the counter, but I serve people out there,” you said, motioning to the tables. “So I guess we do, in a way.”

Morrigan nodded sagely. “Ohhh, so you do the food and Daddy does the drinks.” She nodded, satisfied at her conclusion. “Oh, I’m making a drawing! I want you to see it later, when I’m finished,” she said, tugging at your sleeve.

You smiled. “Of course, Queenie. You just let me know and I’ll pop by when I have a moment, alright?” you promised.

She nodded, turning back to her notebook and picking up her crayons again. Tongue poked out, she diligently returned to her masterpiece. You gave her a fond smile, noting the way the soft lights made a halo in her blonde hair.

“She’s such an angel,” you murmured, grabbing some straws from the bar to stick into your pocket.

“Aye, that she is.” Lysander’s comment almost startled you. He glanced at you across the bar, the sleeves of his crisp maroon button-up rolled halfway up his arms. “I apologize for not bein’ a better neighbor,” he remarked.

You blinked, then reached up to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “Oh, no— not at all,” you blurted, then gave him a chagrined smile. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’d met Morrigan when she was coming back from school, since I was in the front yard. She just… hopped on over, so I said hi. Honestly I should have introduced myself better, but…” You bit your lip. “I just kept putting it off because I didn’t want to bother you…”

He blinked, then chuckled slightly, as though surprised. “An’ here I thought it was ‘cause you didn’t really like me for some reason,” he said, amusement laced in his tone.

You gave him a horrified look. “Oh! Not at all!” You shook your head with a sigh, tugging mournfully at your ponytail. “I’m… notoriously bad at meeting people for the first time,” you groaned. “I just get nervous and tongue tied and I don’t know how to interact and… ugh.” You winced. “I am sorry, Mr. Sullivan. I should be a better neighbor, especially since I somehow got to know your daughter.” You half-laughed at yourself.

He waved you off. “I’m just glad you get along with Mor,” he chuckled. “She speaks endlessly about you. Seems like you’ve impressed her.”

You looked up at him, genuinely surprised. “Really?” you wondered, glancing at the girl. Then you smiled. “Well, I’m flattered. She’s such a smart, curious girl. I’m rather honored that she’d find me interesting.” You breathed a laugh, then glanced up at him. “I should get to my station, but… if you don’t mind, would it be alright if I swung by tomorrow to say hi and properly introduce myself?”

He nodded calmly. “Of course. She gets back home from school at three, if you wanted to catch her as well.”

You nodded, propping the tray on your hip. “Thank you! I’ll do that. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll stop procrastinating and actually start working,” you laughed, and walked off with a wave.

The night progressed relatively smoothly, customers rotating in and out with regulars stopping by. The crowds ebbed and flowed, sometimes more rowdy and sometimes more calm. Still, you enjoyed the atmosphere and the liveliness of it all. Despite it being a pub, and an Irish one at that, the town was small and most people knew everyone else. Plus, Lysander was the bartender for more than one reason. Everyone knew that making trouble of any sort was not tolerated and had force to back it up.

You occasionally popped by Morrigan’s place at the bar, either to have a chat or to admire the progress she’d made on her drawing. And throughout the night, your worries started to mount the more gossip you heard around the pub. Some of them had heard confirmation that the Romanian vampire gone mad was making a beeline for Ireland, though no one seemed to know why. There were even more rumors that Agent Blue, the famous Will-o-the-Wisp, was after the rampaging Pricoli. And still others said that the Scott Pack would be making a reappearance.

Once you’d finished your shift and helped close up shop, you started the trudge back to your cottage down the road. It wasn’t a far walk, really, and it gave you some time to think and clear your head from the smells of the pub. Reaching up, you pulled your hair free from the ponytail and sighed, shoulders slumping.

You’d come to Ireland to escape your problems, but it felt like they were all closing in on you as the days went by. As you got home and got ready for bed, you wondered if it was asking too much to hope for some peace.

Instead, you distracted yourself by trying to think of something to make for the Sullivans the next day. You didn’t want to go empty handed, after all. Maybe some bread-?

You fell asleep thinking about it.

You’d just lifted your hand to knock when the door flung open. Morrigan practically tackled you, wrapping her arms around your waist with a shriek of greeting.

Laughing, you balanced yourself and wrapped an arm around her. “Well hello, Queenie,” you greeted. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

She grabbed your hand and dragged you in, chattering happily about her day at school. “Oh, and you should have heard how everyone laughed!” She interrupted herself as she led you into the kitchen. “Daddy, she’s here!” she called.

Trying to balance the homemade sourdough in one hand while still holding Morrigan’s with the other, you looked up to give Lysander a helpless smile. “Hello, Mr. Sullivan,” you greeted, a little breathlessly.

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “Well hallo, Miss,” he greeted back, wiping his hands with a towel. “Mor, why don’t you let her set the plate down before anything drops,” he said, shaking his head.

Morrigan let go of your hand, bouncing up and down. “Ooh, what is it?”

You offered it to Lysander, a little flustered. “I… well, I didn’t really want to come without an offering, so… I made some homemade sourdough,” you offered, a little awkwardly. “I hope you like it, it’s a fresh batch, still warm.”

He took it from you with a nod. “Thank you. We love sourdough, don’t we, Mor?” He seemed far more comfortable in his own home, less stoic and stern than in the pub.

Morrigan nodded, throwing up her hands with a cheer. “Yeah!” She danced around. “I love bread!” Then she grabbed your hand again. “Oh, oh, you gotta come see my room! Daddy just made me a new desk, and it’s really nice and shiny!”

Lysander waved you off as you turned to him. “Go ahead. Oh, I was going to invite you to dinner,” he added. “If you’d like. The food is almost done, actually. Your bread will be a perfect addition.”

You smiled. “I’d be honored. Thank you.” Then you let Morrigan drag you away.

By the time Lysander called for you both, you’d been given the official tour of her room and had happily listened to her tell stories of what she’d done at school and the projects she planned to do in the coming days. The little girl always cheered you up with her bright and cheerful presence. If anything, it eased your heart to see the little girl clearly so healthy and happy with her Father. She openly adored him, quite the Daddy’s girl.

As the three of you sat down at the table, you realized with a slight start that you’d never felt so comfortable in Ireland as you did in this moment. It felt… right, like you’d finally come home.

“Thank you for the food,” you said, giving Lysander a grateful smile. “It looks amazing.” The soup simmered in the bowls, while the sourdough bread had been cut into slices and set by the butter.

He nodded. “Thank you for the bread.” He passed the steamed potatoes, and everyone dug into the meal.

You let out a soft hum of contentment as you ate, enjoying the rich flavors and the homey comfort food. Clearly Lysander was a good cook, and you almost envied Morrigan for being able to come home to this every night. Not that you weren’t a good cook yourself, but you supposed company really did make a difference.

“The bread is so good!” Morrigan chirped, taking a giant bite of the bread slathered in butter.

You laughed softly. “I’m glad, Queenie. Take it slow,” you warned, worried she’d choke. “The bread isn’t going anywhere.”

She nodded, scarfing down her food. “Oh, oh, Daddy, cartoons are on soon! Can I please go watch? I did all my homework!”

Lysander nodded. “Alright. Go take your dishes to the sink.”

“Thank you! Morrigan cheered, sliding down from her chair and carefully taking the dishes. She trotted to the kitchen, then got herself a glass of juice and went to go to the living room.

You realized with a slight start that this was the first time you’d been alone with Lysander. Looking down at your spoonful, you wondered if you should maybe ask him the questions that pressed on your mind. Perhaps he would know. Then again… it’s not as though he were related to your grandfather’s clan… and not to mention, most of the people in the town didn’t even know that you were aware of the nonhuman community. In fact, you were rather positive that your coworkers thought you didn’t.

“If I may ask, what brought you to this small town?” Lysander asked, his voice calm and mellow. His blue eyes glanced up at you, and the question died on your tongue.

“Oh… family history, actually,” you admitted with a smile. “And, well…” You shrugged lightly. “I needed to get away for a while. I wanted a fresh start, somewhere where people didn’t really know me.”

“Understandable.” He nodded. “I essentially did the same with Morrigan when we moved here a few years ago.”

You hummed, reaching for a piece of bread. He handed you the butter, and you gently grasped the sleeve of his flannel for a moment. “You’ve got a bit on your clothes,” you said, wiping the smeared butter off with a napkin. You’d just let go when your fingers brushed across his briefly as you took the butter. You didn’t notice the way he froze, his movements jerky as he pulled his hand back.

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Do you— I mean, does any of your family still live here?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly. But technically, my extended family is here. My grandfather immigrated from Ireland to America, where I was born, but through marriage there are still people here I’m technically connected to.” You shrugged. “I haven’t really gotten in contact with them, though. They probably don’t know me that well,” you laughed with a rueful shrug. You glanced at him for a moment. “I bet it’s even harder when you have children.”

He glanced toward the living room, where the faint sound of the cartoons floated through the house. “Well, I suppose,” he admitted thoughtfully. “Still, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. She’s my life, really.”

You lowered your eyes to your plate, unable to deny how your chest tightened at the way his voice softened when he spoke of his daughter. You’d always tried to forget how much you’d been attracted to the older man. You’d only ever dated once, and while he’d been nice enough and it had ended cordially, you still hadn’t been able to forget the lingering feeling of disappointment you’d had from the experience. You’d known, after that, that it would either be a long time before you ever tried dating again or it would have to be to someone whose maturity at least matched yours. And, unfortunately for you, that tended to mostly apply to men past their forties.

You really did try to forget how Lysander ticked all the boxes.

“I can see why.” You smiled. “She’s really precious.” Your eyes slid toward the living room. “Does she… inherit from you?”

Lysander looked up, his gaze suddenly piercing as he stared at you openly.

You gave him a faint smile. “I don’t talk much about it, but my grandfather comes from the local O’Connor Faoladh Tribe,” you said calmly, taking another sip of the soup.

His shoulders relaxed, the hard edge in his expression melting away. “Ah. Yes, she does. But she hasn’t fully shifted yet. It will be another year, we think. Are you-?”

You shook your head. “Oh, no. It’s funny, really,” you said thoughtfully, motioning with your spoon. “My grandfather is Faoladh, and my mother’s side of the family is a lycanthrope pack.” Your lips twitched. “And somehow, I got the recessive genes and ended up a simple Seer.”

His eyebrow raised. “Not so simple, I’d think,” he remarked. “Aren’t Seers rather uncommon now?”

You shrugged. “For a reason. There’s plenty of potential but not many who actively practice anymore. The price is heavy for knowledge like that.”

He gave you a discerning look. “Is that what you’re running from?”

Your silver spoon clinked softly as you set it down on the edge of the plate. “I suppose you could say that,” you murmured. Your eyes closed as you shoved away the memories of distant screaming, the crackle of fire, crimson splashed across stone floors— “Or maybe toward something.” After all, you mused, there had been a reason you’d felt drawn to your grandfather’s homeland, and town in particular. And of course, you’d never been one to fight Fate too hard.

“Perhaps so,” he conceded. Then he stood. “May I take your plate?”

“Oh— please, let me help.” You stood, taking your dishes and starting towards the kitchen. “At least let me wash or dry.”

When you finally got back home, you sat down on the couch and buried your face into your hands. Seeing Morrigan and Lysander together had stirred up old memories you’d long since tried to forget. Old desires that you’d thought you’d given up on: hopes and dreams of a family to call your own.

You crawled into bed, everything inside you aching. After all, what could a Seer with a cursed fate possibly offer anyone?

The night the Dullahan rode into town, you’d just started closing up the pub on night shift duty.

They’d ridden in, followed by the famous Agent Blue clad in his dark robes and carrying his lantern over his shoulder. He strode in the door, followed by the Dullahan. At first, you hadn’t even noticed the other figure trailing behind them.

Your Boss, Dorian, had walked out of the back room to greet them. He, of everyone in the town, was the only one to know of your heritage, as the elected leader of the supernatural community in the town. He nodded to the group as they entered.

“Welcome, Dullahan, Agent Blue.” He nodded at them, shaking the Will-o-the-Wisp’s hand.

“Greetings in return, Chief Dorian,” Agent Blue replied, his face still covered by the hood. “Apologies for the intrusion. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Pricoli that’s been running amok all over the Isles.”

Dorian nodded. “We certainly have. I assume you’ve come on a hunt.”

“We have. And I’ve brought someone with me.” Agent Blue turned, motioning towards the back of the group.

You’d been distracted, still working on trying to finish clearing up and getting out of the way. If your boss had asked, you were ready to offer to serve the new guests as well, giving Lysander a glance that he returned with a small nod.

It wasn’t until you straightened and turned around, finished, that you heard a familiar, startled voice call your name. Turning, you looked up and saw, to your shock, a very familiar face staring at you. You froze as the figure lunged forward, wrapping you in a tight hug. After a moment, you awkwardly hugged him back, mind whirling.

“What are you doing here?” Your younger brother stared at you incredulously, holding your arms. “I didn’t even know you left home! Last I heard you were still there.”

You grasped his sleeves, disoriented. “O-Oh. Ray,” you gasped, processing. “I—“ You suppressed a flinch. “I just… moved into grandfather’s old cottage,” you stammered, then looked down. “I had to get away,” you said quietly. “It was too much.”

Of all your family, you knew that Ray would best understand. He’d been the only one to really stand up for you back home, try to support you as best as he could, being a younger sibling. When everyone else constantly reminded you of your Fate, your Destiny, Ray had been the only one who had encouraged your personal hopes and dreams, had listened to your fears and worries.

He sighed. “I mean, I can’t blame you,” he said, shaking his head. “Still… does anyone know?”

You scoffed slightly, turning your head away. “Only Grandfather ever cared about me besides you, Ray. There’s no one else who probably even asked.” You shrugged. “How is school?” You’d been the one to support him when he decided to move to Scotland to attend University. He, too, had wanted to escape home.

He grinned. “Pretty great, actually!” Then he glanced behind him. “Turns out my best mate is actually one of Agent Blue’s sons, so when the whole Pricoli thing went down, I offered to be his in to the Faoladh Tribe here. For formality, y’know.” He shrugged. “I remembered what Grandfather had always taught us about how picky Faoladh are about tradition.”

You nodded. “Yeah…” You huffed slightly. “Technically only the people in here right now even know that I’m a part of the supernatural community,” you said dryly.

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s some dedication to keep it quiet. How has the local gossip train not found you out yet?”

You snorted. “Maybe because I’ve always been quiet and kept my mouth shut.” You rolled your eyes at him, though a smile twitched on your lips. “And we both know who never can.”

He playfully cuffed your shoulder. Then he grinned. “Oh, but guess what?” His eyes sparkled. “I found my Mate!”

Your eyes widened. “Really?” Your heart lightened for him, happy that your younger brother had finally found his Mate. “Does she know yet?”

He shook his head, face falling a little. Well, not yet. I mean, I’ve kinda only just met her and all, so… and it’s kinda awkward, cause…” He winced. “Well, she’s my best mate’s younger sister.”

You gave him an incredulous look, then sighed, shaking your head. “Well, good luck with that one, Ray,” you snorted. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the situation with that one.”

He shrugged. “I know, but…” His grin turned goofy. “She’s so pretty. You should see her. She’s even pretty sassy, kinda like you are with me.”

You laughed softly, patting his arm. “Well, I’m glad I was able to catch up with you. If you need a place to stay, you know my house is always open to you.”

He nodded. “Thanks, sis. I should probably head back. I don’t know what else they might want me for.” He paused, then gave you an odd look. “Have you… found anyone?”

You blinked at him, startled. “What? Ray, you know what my Fate says.” You frowned.

An odd expression crossed his face, then he shook his head. “Yeah, I know. Just… don’t forget the promise you made me.”

You sighed. “I won’t, Ray.” As if you ever could, you thought with a hint of bitterness. He wouldn’t let you.

He squeezed your hand, slipping a piece of paper into your grasp. “Text me. I wanna keep in touch.”

You nodded, pocketing the note. “Thanks. Good luck, Ray. Stay safe.”

He nodded, then jogged back to Agent Blue with a wave. You were left to stand there, your heart sinking with every step he took away from you. Everything was lining up far too well. Though you’d vainly hoped to escape from the Fate that had hung over your head for so long, it seemed as though you’d just walked right into it instead.

Turning back to the bar, you quietly packed up your things. Bidding Lysander goodnight, you checked to make sure Dorian didn’t need you and headed back for home.

It was only a matter of time.

Rain splattered against the ground, heavy and thick like a curtain. Shielding your eyes from the drops, you pushed yourself to run, faster, as fast as you could. There was no time left to think.

The vision you’d had kneeling under the large Fae Maypole tree you’d found in the forest nearby kept flashing through your mind, insistent and horrific. Your Fate loomed, past and future meshing into the present in ways you could hardly stand. You’d thought you’d been running, cowardly but maybe safe from the Sword of Damocles—but now here you were, fallen headlong into the trap of the Fate you’d known since childhood would claim your life.

And yet your feet would not stop running, pushing you forward without hesitation. Was this not worth it? Was this Fate—this Fate that you’d feared for so long, hated and loathed and tried in futility to escape—was it truly so horrendous? Now that you were here? In this moment of truth?

You barreled up the steps, slamming your shoulder against the door without a pause. It broke, sending you headlong across the threshold to skid across the carpet. Ignoring the burn on your arm, you looked up as you heard a scream. Morrigan’s face stared at you, sheet white as she curled up in fear by the foot of the couch.

Jacking yourself up, you didn’t take time to glance behind you. “Mor, into the safe room,” you gasped, “your Daddy sent me, okay? I need you to get in the safe room, now.”

She nodded shakily, bravely scrambling to her feet and running towards the safe room that Lysander had made for her. Nothing would get through the doors, you knew, once they locked. You waited until you heard the lock click, then turned and scrambled back out the busted door.

In the empty area between your houses, out on the outskirts of the town, everything seemed oddly distant yet crystal clear. Your memories nudged at you, whispering about the deja vu that filled your every pore at the sight of the green, rolling grass and the relentless rain that poured over everything. In the distance, the red glare of a fire fueled by gas and undaunted by rain began to dominate the color of the sky.

It didn’t surprise you when cold fingers wrapped around your throat, leaving mottled bruises to bloom against your skin. You stood still, knowing that any movement might crush your throat. You may have been Fated to die, but not until you’d finished your task.

The enraged Pricoli snarled, hissing in your ear. “I know he sent you to hide her,” he sneered. “You helpless, pitiful Seer. For all your preeminence, did you not find a way to best me?” he barked a laugh, maniacal and loud. “You useless Seers and your cursed fates—and for what? A single moment of ruined glory?”

Your breath shallowed, airflow restricted. Agent Blue, several Dullahan, your brother, Dorian, and Lysander all emerged from the tree line, pausing as they saw you being held hostage. You closed your eyes for a moment as the icy hands constricted around your throat even further.

“Tell me where she is, and you get to live, Seer,” he snarled, his face nearing your ear. “She is my perfect match, my BloodSong. She is fated to be mine, my apprentice!” he howled. “Give her to me, my right!” His nails started to lengthen, turning into claws, digging against your skin. “Or I’ll drink you dry first and use you as fuel to take these maggots down.”

You brother’s face had gone ashen in horror, staring at you as though trying to deny his own eyes. His face twisted in despair.

“I’ll never give her up to you,” you answered, aware that everyone could hear you despite the rain. You tilted your head up, letting the rain wash over your face. “I am a Seer,” you declared, loudly, proud of it for the first time in your life. “And I embrace the Curse of my Fate. I pay the price gladly, if it means the power to make sure you never lay a finger on her.”

The Pricoli snarled, the rage almost audibly warping his voice into something demonic. “Then meet your Fate, Seer.”

Your knees gave out the moment his fangs ripped into your jugular. Strangely enough, the pain wasn’t even that bad, you mused hazily. Your eyes—were they blurred by tears or the rain?—rolled up to see your brother, mouth open as he reached for you. Even Lysander, white fur matted and soaked, had his maw open as his snout pointed to the sky.

Distantly, you could hear screaming. A roar, loud, tumbling through your chest, rattling into the ground. The crackling of fire. Everything started to get.. so… cold. Vaguely, as the hand shoved you forward and you landed against the ground, you could see out of the corner of your eye the Pricoli hunch forward. Despite the pain, the numbness… your lips curled in a vindictive smile.

The crimson eyes turned to you, a horrified anger sweeping through them as they landed on your twisted grin. A cold hand went up to his throat, and the Pricoli started to choke. His body lurched, tongue lolling as he gagged on your blood, his veins starting to light from the inside out with a toxic green. Slowly, agonizingly, he fell to his knees, his face contorted in a paroxysm of agony as he choked on your blood, your concentrated inherent magic tearing him apart from the inside out.

Your limbs felt sluggish as you forced yourself up, your ears ringing. Reaching up, you pressed your hand to your ruined neck and staggered to your feet, starting to lurch away from the destroyed corpse of the Pricoli. Warmth smeared across your skin, and every breath sent needles raking down your throat and into your lungs. Your feet stumbled, and before you realized it, you were leaning against something broad and firm.

Two icy blue eyes stared down at you, claws wrapping around your arms. Strangely enough, though, you didn’t fear that grasp. Lysander’s maw moved, you noticed faintly, but all you could hear was the persistent ringing in your ears. Vaguely, you reached up, your fingers clumsily landing on the side of his snout. Red smeared his fur, and your arm dropped down numbly to your side.

With the last of your strength, you forced your mouth to form the words that your shattered throat couldn’t say. Tell her goodbye.

The world spun into crimson.

Shivering, you shook your head as you curled into the corner that you’d pressed yourself into. Tears burned behind your eyes, and you heard your breath start to rasp and wheeze, rattling your throat.

Your brother’s face crumpled as he stared at you. “Please,” he begged, his voice wavering. “You need to drink.”

Agent Blue rested his hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Take it easy, son,” he said, voice firm but compassionate. “She’s understandably frightened. Even though she’s successfully gone through the change to being a damphyr, she’s had quite the scare and probably doesn’t want to feed.”

“But she needs to!” Ray exclaimed, frustration lacing his voice. “She’s already hurting.”

It was driving you insane. The pure power of the Will-o-the-Wisp’s blood was calling to you like a tempting beacon, and your brother’s hot blood practically screamed at you. The thirst flared in your throat, an ache so powerful you wanted to gag. It was like sandpaper. But you didn’t want to feed from them. You didn’t want to risk losing control, didn’t want to didn’t want to didn’t want to—

“I’ll take care of her.” Lysander stepped into the room. He turned to Ray. “She gave her life to save my daughter. This is the least I can do. I promise she’ll be in good hands.”

Your brother paused, then sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know you will, Sir,” he said, defeated. “I just…” He glanced over at you, eyes reflecting his misery.

Lysander reached out, squeezing Ray’s shoulder. “I understand,” he said quietly.

Ray nodded, then approached you again carefully. “Hey.” His voice softened. “I know you probably don’t want me around. But you have my number. Please, just… contact me when you’re ready, ok? You know I’ll be here for you, like I always have been. I’m gonna go back to Scotland, but you know how to reach me if you need anything. I won’t tell any of the family that you’re here.”

Swallowing back the drool, you tentatively reached out and barely ghosted your fingers against his cheek, hoping your eyes would convey your thanks. You just… needed space. Away from him, to control yourself, get yourself together.

But his expression turned a little more hopeful, and he nodded. “Love you, sis,” he said quietly. “Please… live.” With a small smile, he stood and followed Agent Blue out of the room.

With a quiet whine, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to push past the unbearable, insistent pain scratching down your throat. Your throat roared for a drink. Your eyes snapped open when you heard Lysander approach. Though you didn’t know why, his presence always sent you into an absolute panic, though not of fear. Your thirst around him seemed to impossibly skyrocket. Like something about him drove you crazy.

He knelt, his blue eyes fixed on yours. He reached out slowly, giving you a chance to move away. Instead, your body froze, entirely fixating on the way his plaid shirtsleeve pulled tight around his arm, rolled up to his elbow. You swallowed thickly, his blood an absolute siren call. You could smell it, practically taste it. Dripping down your throat, into your veins, ambrosia sweet and thick— Drool slipped down the corner of your mouth, past the pressure of fangs against your lips.

Lysander’s eyes strained. “I know what it does to you,” he said quietly. “Just the fact that you’re not lunging for me right now is…” He sighed, his other hand raking through his hair. “I don’t know if I’m impressed or-“ His lips twisted as he cut himself off, as though conflicted. “There’s a reason why my blood calls to you.” He settled himself in front of you, making you want to scream as both relief and a frenzy of want roared through you.

“Of course, Mor is my daughter,” Lysander said, his voice low as he looked down at the floor between you. “But her Mother was… not my true Mate.” He sighed. “I didn’t really care, because I loved her. But she… well, she left me. Didn’t want Mor, didn’t want… me.” A self-depreciating smile passed across his face. “But it was okay, I had Mor and I only wanted the best for her. But still… somewhere inside me, I knew that my true Mate was out there somewhere.”

You almost couldn’t focus, his proximity almost painful because he was too far, and yet not close enough—

“And then you appeared, and Mor started to love you, and I—“ He sighed, hand reaching up to cover his face. “And I didn’t know if I wanted to run or stay.” His shoulders slumped. “Seeing you with Mor, working with you, talking with you… every moment I spend with you near is like agony, but when you leave it’s like you take a part of me with you and I can’t breathe.”

Abruptly, your mouth went dry, shocked almost clear out of bloodlust. Wait, was he saying-?

“I told myself that you’d be better off without me,” Lysander admitted, voice thick. “I’m… not young any more. You’re beautiful and— and you have so much more promise, a whole life ahead of you… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’d gone for so long without my true Mate, I thought I’d be fine. But when I saw you lying on the ground…” He turned his face away, jaw ticking, a wild, feral light in his eyes. A low snarl rumbled through his chest, dissolving into a whine he quickly cut off.

He looked back up at you. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel… obligated to do anything. But you deserve to know the reason why my blood calls to you so strongly, and why— why I want you to drink from me. Why I don’t mind.”

Your mind whirled. The permission. The heady scent of his blood. The warmth he promised. The realization that he was calling you his true Mate. The way he looked at you, like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted.

Reaching up, you clapped your hand over your mouth with a half-sob of desperation. You wanted it. You practically ached for it, the kindness and love he offered. The promise of a family, a home, someone who had seen you at your worst and still somehow wanted you.

“Please,” Lysander rasped, his eyes laced with that same desperation roiling in his gut. “You don’t even have to accept me as a Mate. But you need to feed, and I—“

You were at your limit. You’d already taxed yourself as a newborn damphyr somehow trying to resist the frenzy of the first feed, and now that your Mate was in front of you, offering freely, practically begging you to feed from him, you could only take so much.

You lunged, a snarl dying on your lips as you lunged forward, the strength of your desperation actually knocking the seasoned werewolf down onto the floor. And still, even as you straddled his waist, your fingers curled around his shoulder, eyes fixed on the tempting expanse of his neck… you still tried to fight. Still tried to fight it, to control yourself.

But Lysander’s broad, warm hands gently wrapped around your waist, not fighting or pushing you off. The scar slashing across the left side of his face seemed to glow in the light streaming through the curtained window, and he gave you a smile.

“It’s okay,” he said, voice low and soothing. “I can handle it. I know you won’t hurt me.”

You shuddered, drool dripping down your fangs. Leaning forward slowly, you tried to keep yourself paced, tried to force yourself to some modicum of control. Mouth opening, you lowered your head until your fangs just barely grazed the crook of his neck and shoulder, not too close to his jugular but just enough.

The moment your fangs sank into his throat, Lysander’s fingers went weak around your waist. A deep groan pooled into the air, and a tremor ran through his body underneath you.

Heat pooled in your stomach, even as his blood slid down your throat with a satisfaction unparalleled. He tasted sweet and dusky, like fresh bread and sunshine, and freshly-cut grass after the rain. The pure heat and warmth he radiated soaked into you, and you felt the bloodlust slowly slake as you drank. Finally, you forced yourself to let go, vaguely aware with your instincts that you’d taken enough to not hurt him but probably still leave him a bit lightheaded for a moment.

The bite wound almost instantly healed over, and his grasp on your waist tightened again, fingers flexing as he regained his bearings.

You leaned your head against his chest, the gratitude and shame warring inside you. Grateful that he’d been so kind, so understanding and gentle. Ashamed of your own arousal, the way your entire being reacted to him.

Your name slipped from his lips, and a moment later his face pressed into your hair. His voice ached with the same torn desire that roiled through you. “I shouldn’t—“ He sucked in a sharp breath as you pressed your body flush against his. You could feel how tight his pants were, could feel the lines of his bulge pressed up against your thigh. A choked groan accompanied the way his hands spasmed around your waist.

“Mate.” The whisper slid from your mouth, the first thing you’d said aloud since your change. Your fingers clenched in his flannel shirt. “Mate… wants me?” Your voice cracked with your fear. Fear that he wouldn’t want to deal with you after all, that you weren’t worth it—

He pulled you closer to him, hand sliding to your hair. “So damn much, sweetheart,” he rasped, cradling your head to his shoulder. “You’re so goddamn beautiful and fierce— I don’t care if you’re human, Seer, damphyr. You’re my true Mate, my love.”

And you buried your face into his shoulder and let yourself shed a few tears of relief. He wanted you. Accepted you, in spite of everything.

“I know it’s not fair to ask you to stay,” his voice strained. “You gave your life for Morrigan, and I’m so much older—“

You reached up, your hands sliding up to cup his jaw as you slanted your lips over his, tears slipping down your cheeks. His mouth opened, kissing you back with a fervor as he splayed his hand over your lower back, pressing you into him. He let out a low growl, the sound rumbling through his chest and straight into your body. Your entire body flushed, and you let out a quiet whimper.

Almost before you could register it, he flipped you over onto the floor, hovering over you. His teeth bared, and he stared down at you with a heat in his eyes that scorched through you. His hands clenched around your waist, pulling your hips flush against his.

You whimpered, tilting your head to the side and exposing your throat to him, sprawled against the floor. Your chest heaved with breath, and a moment later his teeth closed gently on the arch of your neck. A soft breathy moan escaped your lips, eyes fluttering closed as his scent washed over you, his mouth marking your neck, replacing the memory of the Pricoli’s fingerprints mottled against your skin.

With an effort, Lysander wrenched himself away, though he half rutted against you. “Darling, I’m going to need you to tell me if you don’t want this,” he rasped, voice thick and half a snarl already.

“Lysander,” you whispered, lips caressing his name.

His hips stuttered, and he pulled you up against him before heaving himself up and staggering to the bed. He lowered you onto the bed, wasting no time before he practically yanked you to him, his hands hot and greedy. He kissed you, somehow still gentle and yet needy enough to take your breath away.

“May I?” He tapped your shirt.

You nodded shyly, letting him slide it off of you. You lifted your hips in an invitation, and he lowered his mouth to your neck as he slipped your shorts off. He groaned, hands sliding across your bared skin. His skin felt so hot to the touch against your chilled body, wholly satisfying. You practically melted into his hands like putty, malleable to however he touched you, moved you. He made you feel safe. Loved. Cherished. Wanted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “So beautiful, leannen.” The Gaelic spilled naturally from his mouth as he slid his hands under your back, unhooking your bra. You let him slide it off, too desperate for the warmth of his hands to process embarrassment. His hands cupped your breasts, callouses rasping across your nipples in a way that left your breathless and aching.

You whimpered, a little encouraged by the way you felt his bulge throb against you at the sound. Fingers tangling in his shirt, you tilted your head for air, arching into his hands.

“Fuck,” Lysander hissed against your jaw, his hips rolling into you. His hands slid lower, and his thumbs hooked in your underwear. “Can I?”

You nodded, fingers clenching against his shoulders as he slid them off. His shirt was already straining at the seams, threatening to rip. At your tug, he took a moment to reach down and practically rip his shirt off, tossing it uncaringly to the side as he opened his mouth against your neck.

You were already dripping, just his touch and scent enough to arouse you. Breath hissed through his teeth as his fingers dragged through your slick, just barely brushing past your clit. A whine escaped your lips as you shivered, fingers slipping against his chest.

“You smell so good,” Lysander groaned, one finger slipping into you as his thumb rubbed circles around your clit. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’re wet. Can I take care of you?” he rumbled, teeth nipping at your ear. “You already gorged yourself on my blood. How about I fill you up with something else?”

You flushed, fangs sinking into your lower lip. “Please?” you whispered.

His ice blue eyes flashed, and his chest heaved under your hands. “Oh, are we a little desperate?” He smirked, sliding another finger into you, stretching you. “Want me to pull your legs up on my shoulders and keep you here all night?” He chuckled, feeling you pulse around his fingers. “Mmmm, I think your gorgeous body is being pretty honest, sweetheart. Well. I aim to please my Mate.”

You only had a moment to wonder when he’d managed to get his pants off. His fingers slid out of you, only for you to feel his cock rest heavily against your entrance. He slid against you, and you could feel a dribble of precum smear across your skin. One hand went to your waist, holding you, while his other found your clit again.

“Is this alright, sweetheart?” he asked, voice low and suddenly soft. “I’m a bit of a stretch. I’ll try to go slow.”

With how wet you were, you sincerely doubted that he would find much of a problem. Still, you swallowed and nodded, grateful for his care and the way he tried, every step of the way, to make sure you were comfortable. Then again, you could already tell he wasn’t lying about how big he was. You could feel him resting against you, throbbing against your thigh. Slowly, he pressed just the tip into you, his breath shuddering.

Your lips parted in a gasp as he stretched you open, sliding into you. Compared to the chill of your body, his cock practically radiated heat. By the time he completely bottomed out, pelvis flush against yours, you’d already come so close to the edge, drool slipping from the corners of your lips. He seemed to completely fill you, pressing up against every spot inside of you until you swore he’d stretched you into his shape.

Lysander slumped over you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck. His entire body shuddered, and his hands clenched around your waist. His chest heaved against yours, muscles flexing as though he were physically holding himself back.

“Thank you.” The shaky whisper pooled against your skin. “For saving her. Giving your life for her. Thank you. For choosing me.”

Your fingers slid into his salt and pepper hair, relishing the stubble against your neck and shoulder. “I love you.” The confession spilled from your lips, quiet in the room.

He shuddered, letting out a low moan. His fingers clenched, just as he pulled you down further onto his cock, pressing up into you. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Lysander,” you repeated obediently, wholly truthful. Your core clenched around him, and he hissed, pulling out to thrust back into you.

“I love you,” he groaned, starting to thrust in a slow but steady rhythm. He reached down, then pulled your legs up around his hips. The new angle made you pulse as he seemed to reach impossibly deeper into you, angling up justenough to hit that one spot inside you that had you gasping and arching.

“You’re so tight,” he growled, picking up the pace. “Feels so good, sweetheart. So good.”

He suddenly reached behind you and grabbed a pillow, then lifted your hips up to prop it under you. Setting you back down, he shifted himself up and pulled your legs up to his shoulders.

A cry left your lips, utterly wrecked and broken. His cock completely filled you, fucking any semblance of coherence out of you, going so deep you swore you could feel it in your stomach. He seemed to know exactly how to read your body, adjusting to every whimper you let out, not giving you a break as he kept pounding into you with devastating precision.

“You feeling good, sweetheart?” he chuckled, the sound raking down your spine. “Is this what you want?” He thumbed your clit, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You gonna give Mor a little sibling? Taking me so well like this, spread open for me?”

The thought of adding more kids to your life, together with Lysander, proved to be the last straw for your poor mind. You came, stars bursting behind your eyelids as you cried out his name and the wave of heat and pleasure washed through your body.

And Lysander just kept fucking you through it, going harder as he pinned you against the sheets under him, not caring that your fingers raked against his shoulders. He bent to kiss you, murmuring your name in a husky voice that just wrecked you even more. He gave you no mercy, his gaze predatory as he stared down at you, soaking in your ruined expression.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Cum for me,” he murmured, coaxing you through your high.

Even when you rode it out, he didn’t slow down or let up the pace. “You gonna make me cum, darling? Can I cum inside you?”

A plea staggered off of your lips, followed by his name. Your jumbled, blissed-out mind wouldn’t allow you to do anything else, barely recalling your own name.

“Fuck— gonna cum, sweetheart— gonna fill you up—“ He let out a moan before his hips slammed into you one last time. He ground against you as he came, his bruising grip not letting you move an inch away from him.

You melted back into the bed, eyes closing as you soaked in the feeling of his seed filling you, pouring into you. Your fingers slid up the back of his neck as you lay there, docile and welcoming to his every move. Even when he’d finally stopped spilling into you, your stomach full and hot, he slumped against you.

His lips slid across your throat, soft and almost reverent, and he pulled you into his body. He murmured soft endearments into your ear, his hands running over you with gentle, loving strokes, soothing you.

“I promise I’ll do my best to protect you, treat you the way you should be,” he promised. “I love you so much, sweetheart.” Then he chuckled, hand running over your stomach. “I wonder if Morrigan will want a brother or a sister. She’s already going to be so excited to call you Mommy.”

You gave him a shy smile, accepting his soft kiss. “Thank you, Lysander,” you whispered. “I love you.”

Perhaps the price of your Fate had been high, you thought, but it had been entirely worth it.

#elysiadjarinkinktober #elysiadjarin #x reader #my writing #mywriting #nsft #exophilia #terato #monsterfucker #xyou #smut #kinktober

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inhuman-obey-me · 3 years

Note

Excuse me! it’s just me, this blog’s stalker because your works amazing. I kinda am in love with your demon’s nature series. I if I could request something. Could you possible do MC seeing the brothers do something that is “demonic”. Similar to what happens in the series. Thank you!!!!

Hello!! Haha, thank you -- we’re so glad you like our content! ;u;

And I’m glad that you enjoy the Demon’s Nature series! It’s been a lot of fun to write.

Sorry this took a bit! I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be something with one of the brothers or all of them, so I ended up doing little short blurbs for each of the brothers and MC accidentally catching them doing something demonic/violent. Tried to keep them all pretty short, which was hard.

[Mod Cosmos]

MC accidentally catching the Demon Brothers being Demonic/Violent

content warning: blood/gore, body horror (especially in Beel’s), and general violence

Note: This is through the perspective of an MC that knows that the demons do their thing, but perhaps doesn't want to see it happening in front of them.

LUCIFER

You were supposed to go shopping together after meetings for the day were finished, and he had told you to just wait an additional thirty minutes so that he could finish up some business. Thirty minutes passed, but there was still no word from him, so you decide you’ll go and see what was holding that workaholic up. You soon realize that was a mistake.

You hear muffled cries, and a familiar deep voice. Cautiously, you approach the source of these sounds -- a room located off a dark corridor. You didn’t think there were any classrooms here, and your curiosity got the better of you -- so you approach the door, peeking through the crack. You recognize the intimidating silhouette and --- there’s blood. There was another figure in the room, their body limp on the ground in a puddle of red, the mighty first-born’s claws tearing through flesh. A loss of balance in your surprise results in you tumbling into the room, earning a sharp turn from Lucifer, whose crimson eyes were wide in surprise. His wings spread out to try and shield the unsavory scene from you.

“MC, you were supposed to wait for me.” His voice is stern, but there’s a gentleness to it. He sees the queasy look on your face, and decides he can put this torment to an end. With a swift motion, he fully blocks your line of sight before slitting the lesser demon’s throat. He then turns back to you, lightly embracing your body with black feathers. His voice is soft as he did not want to frighten you. “I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to see that. Let’s get you home, shall we? I’ll make you some tea.”

MAMMON

It had just been a scratch. A low-level demon had taken a swipe at you in passing, but hadn’t been able to cut too deep. Mammon insisted he was just running off to get a bandaid after you insisted he didn’t need to go after the other demon. He said that he’d be right back--”I’m just gettin’ a bandage, I swear!”-- and told you not to move an inch. But this bandage quest was taking longer than it should have, so you go after him, pressing a loose cloth against your wound. And there he was, having cornered the offending demon. He seems to be staking the demon in the arm with a sharp metal object, speaking in a tongue you couldn’t understand.

You hadn’t even realized you had dropped the Majolish bag from your hand, not until it hit the ground with a thud and Mammon whipped around to see you there. A flash of guilt appears on his features, his eyes going between you and the lowly demon. He drops them, though he can’t resist one more swift kick to their chest before running back to you.

“I told ya I’d be right back!” He’s about to cup your face in his hands, but retracts them as he realizes they’re covered in blood. “Uh, okay, let’s go get that,” he motions to your injury, “...taken care of, yeah?” He mumbles a sorry as he picks up the bag you dropped before ushering you away from the scene, promising he’d do whatever he needed to do to make up for having to witness it.

LEVIATHAN

You’re browsing games at a shop, having tagged along with Leviathan who had been raving about a new release. At one point, however, Leviathan had vanished from your side. You now realize it’s been … quite some time, actually. You wander about the store, unable to find him anywhere. Did he step outside? You decide to check, missing the anxious glance from the clerk behind the counter.

You hear some sounds from the alley by the shop. Is that … someone choking? Worried, you round the corner to make sure whoever it was is okay -- only to see the one doing the strangling was Leviathan himself. He had his tail tightly wrapped around the other demon’s throat, and … what, what was that inky substance leaking from their eyes? Leviathan caught your shadow against the alley wall, turning to you with a slightly panicked look.

“M-MC!” His tail quickly slithered off and away from the demon’s throat, leaving them to collapse to the ground. He’s suddenly at your side, hands on your shoulders as he turns you around and makes you walk out of the alley with him, murmuring something about how the venom will take care of the rest. “S-sorry about that, MC. You look a little sick … let’s get that game and go home and play, okay?”

SATAN

You had been ambling through an aisle in the grand Royal Library, wondering what random book you should pick up next to flip through idly. Satan had wanted to spend a quiet day reading and studying together, to which you readily obliged. But it was easy to forget just how large the Royal Library was -- what floor were you on again? -- and you wonder if you should head back to where the two of you had set up. Then you suddenly hear a distant crash. It seemed to be coming from one of the meeting rooms at the back, and you couldn’t help but want to take a peek to see what had happened.

“Fuck you!” You knew that voice, and you knew that anger. There was a muffled yell, and what sounded like shattering glass. Then there’s a chilling, mocking laughter, and you can feel the goosebumps starting to cover your skin. You nervously approach the slightly ajar door, and there he is, his tail impaling another demon with its sharp ridges. Oh, there is fury burning in those eyes -- ones that shift to land on you, and that glowing fury is replaced with exasperation.

“MC!” Your name comes out as a hiss, but he quickly tosses the other demon, slamming them into the wall. “You…” He’s unsure what to say, his wrath calming at the sight of you, especially with that look on your face. “I … I’m sorry, I just had to take care of something. Please, let’s go. We can talk about this later.”

ASMODEUS

The music is loud, the drinks are pouring, and you’re having an absolutely wonderful night out clubbing with Asmodeus. You were returning from the bar with two drinks in hand for the both of you, thanking one of the security guards on your way for managing the crowd of fans that had now dispersed, only to find that Asmodeus was not to be found at your table. He had left a note-- “BRB! ♡”--with lipstick on a napkin. You waited, sipping your drink as you demon watched from your seat. Some time passes, and you realize you’ve finished your drink a bit more quickly than intended. There’s still no sign of him, so you might as well go get another.

On the way to the bar, however, you pass by what you assumed was the hall to the restrooms, and you hear a desperate “I’m sorry!” cutting through the heavy bass. Should you be concerned? Well, you decide to at least be nosy, so you slip into the hall to see what was going on -- and are met with the sight of Asmodeus holding a heart he had carved out of some poor demon’s chest. In your shock, your empty glass slips through your fingers and crashes to the floor, earning your demon’s attention.

“Oh, MC!” Despite his surprise to see you, he gives you a smile -- one that gives you chills as you see blood spattered on his face. “Ah, what a mess…” He lets the lesser demon slide to the floor, debating on what to do with the organ in hand, but hides it behind his back for now, coming over to place a quick kiss on your cheek. “Sorry about that, darling. I’m just going to go clean up, so wait for me at the table, ‘kay?”

BEELZEBUB

You had agreed to go with him to Madame Scream’s after finishing up classes for the day, but he was running late. He’s not picking up any calls, either, so you decide to go to where his last class would have been -- maybe they were just running way over, and he hadn’t realized the time? The hall is quiet, and you end up reaching an empty classroom. Walking back out, you decide to try calling him again. Ring, ring. After a moment, you realize you can hear Beelzebub’s ringtone in the distance, and you follow your ears to where his D.D.D. and ultimately he himself must be.

You weren’t prepared for what you saw next. A head of bright orange hair buried in a lesser demon’s abdomen, the sound of squelching and slurping from his feasting sounding so much more insidious than usual.

“Beel!” You can’t help but cry out his name in shock, which causes him to jolt upright -- with intestines still hanging from his mouth. Oh, you were going to be sick …

“MC … sorry, Lucifer always says I need to work on my table manners … “ He gulps down what was left hanging, but his eyes widen when it registers just who caught him in the act. “Oh, uh, guess that’s not the point, huh … “ He sheepishly wipes at his mouth with some torn cloth that you can only assume came from his victim, standing up and walking around to block your view of the mangled body. “I’ll clean this up, and then … well, we can do whatever you want to do. Sorry, MC …”

BELPHEGOR

You’re looking around for where Belphegor could possibly be napping. Beelzebub had to go to Fangol practice and asked that you make sure his twin got home, as he had seemed even more tired today than usual. He’s not in the Western Courtyard, so you head to the Southern Courtyard next. You think you remember him saying that was one of his favorite spots…

You perk up as you spot the ever-familiar cow patterned pillow, but you fail to see the demon that was usually attached to it. Peering around the area, worry starts to set in -- and then you hear a scream. It certainly didn’t belong to Belphegor, but the gears in your mind start turning and you run to where the scream came from. Of course, no one else was around here -- it wasn’t the busiest area on campus in the first place. Turning a corner, you see just what you feared -- Belphegor had his claws at another demon’s throat, his barbed tail wrapped around their body and squeezing them tight. You feel weak, the scenario a bit too close for comfort as you recall what he had done to you in the past.

“MC?” Belphegor turned to see you, his eyes wide. He must have sensed your presence at some point, or maybe your heart was pounding much louder than you realized. He drops the other demon, growling something you can’t make out to them, and then slowly approaches you. He sees you tense up, causing him to stop in his tracks. He averts his gaze, not wanting to meet your eyes as he tries to figure out what to say. “I just … had to deal with something. You … you can head on home first, if you want. I understand.”

#obey-mes-treasure #obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #gn!reader #gn!mc #demons being demons #the all encompassing [mod] cosmos #ask and ye shall be answered

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thebeautyoffanfics · 3 years

Note

Idk if you already made this but Hanako, Kou and mitsuba jealous Hcs with their girlfriend that is quite popular among the students pls? thank u!!

hanako x f!reader, kou minamoto x f!reader, mitsuba sousuke x f!reader

a/n: sure thing!! No worries, I haven’t made it yet :D you’re so very welcome, and thank you so much for requesting!! I love jealousy headcanons tho I don’t think I’ve ever written them? I hope these turn out alright, and I’m so sorry for the time this took!

warnings: jealousy?

word count: 1,936

Hanako <3

Oh boy- can I do anything but wish you luck?

Hanako is already a fairly clingy and jealous guy, that’s practically canon. He’ll stand between you when you’re talking to anyone, and I mean aaaaanyone. He just can’t risk losing you!

(It’s got a whole lot to do with his insecurities, of course- while he wouldn’t admit it, not wanting to drop his “ah? I’m just an innocent little boy, free of issues and perverted thoughts <3” attitude, he does struggle a lot. He’s a ghost, a murderer, and imperfect in more ways than those. You’re popular for a reason. You’re so pretty, so kind, so lovable- you’re alive, and probably have morals. What are you doing with a dead murderer?)

Wow, ANYWAY- we’re here for jealousy, not Hanako’s issues, though they will probably resurface shortly.

Seeing everyone around you… always wanting your attention, always complimenting you…

You deserved it! He thought all of those positive things and more-! But… at this point, so many people admiring you, why were you still with him?

Even if you explain to him constantly that you love him dearly, and wouldn’t leave him for anyone else, he still gets somewhat possessive. Eventually putting the “but why does (Y/N) still love me,,” aside, he just wants others to keep their hands off you :((

It’s no fault of yours, and he acknowledges that! But it’s the fault of others getting so close to you >:((

Though they can’t see him, when people go up to you, talking joyfully- he’s standing there, arms wrapped around you, head on your shoulder as he glares daggers into their souls.

BRO IF SOMEONE FLIRTS WITH YOU OR TOUCHES YOU??

You’ve never seen him super angry, much less murderous. He doesn’t want you to see him that angry normally- but holy moley is he about ready to beat someone.

Yet, he’s still just a ghost- plus if he did something Teru would exorcise him, booooo. So, he settles for continuing to glare, standing between the two of you, hitting their arm if it’s resting on your shoulder. Once again, they’re completely unaware of it, but you aren’t!

“Hanako, you know I won’t leave you for them. They’re a classmate, I barely know them, really.”

“But they want to know you. And I don’t want them to know you… they’re gonna try and take you from me, (Y/N)!”

“I won’t let them take me, you big dummy. So, if you could please let go of me so I can get back to class?”

“No :((“

Not only does he cling to you, of course- though he hugs you bunches and squishes your face just because you’re cute- you can also expect a lot of kisses. Ranging from quick “hey, I’m here, and please don’t choose someone else over me”, “hey, my kisses are better than theirs!! Here’s proof!”, “you’re my girlfriend, not theirs, and if they keep treating you like you aren’t taking I’m going to stabby stabby (but I can’t stab cos Teru’s here, but I would if it wasn’t upsetting)”, etc, etc. It’s… almost strange how easy it is to understand what he means from the way he kisses you- but, I digress!

Overall, he gets jealous fairly easily, and gets very clingy when jealous. He’s not amazing with words, so he wants to show you that he loves you with actions!! However, those actions, more often than not, end up just being… clinging to you, and glaring at people who try to get too close to you.

(RIP Akane, Kou, and Nene for bearing witness to you walking around the school with a visibly angry Hanako. Though the worst the others get is the feeling that someone is staring at them, they get to witness his jealousy from off to the side.)

Kou Minamoto <3

He’s nearly completely opposite from Hanako, actually! He doesn’t get jealous very often, trusting you to actually tell him if something were wrong in the relationship. And, when he does get jealous, he does his best to not show it.

He’s not fond of being jealous. It makes him feel like he’s betraying you…? Like him being jealous is the same as him saying that he doesn’t trust you. But, similarly to Hanako, he trusts you. He just doesn’t trust others quite as much. Not with his very cute and very pretty and very sweet girlfriend :((

While it takes a lot to get him jealous, two things that really can make his temper cut short are (similarly to Hanako) when someone outright flirts or touches you. Especially if they touch you and the two of you aren’t at least friends-

If someone flirts, he’s going to casually slip into the conversation, if he wasn’t there already. A quick “hey, (Y/N)! Wait, sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking-“, then he’ll stand next to you, grabbing your hand lightly. One thing about Kou is, he does his best to be gentle all the time! Even when he’s jealous, he’d never ever hurt you intentionally-!!

If someone’s touching you, he’ll hop into the conversation as he does when someone flirts, adding a “I need your help with something, when you can.” This time, or any time really, if you’re uncomfortable you can use it as an excuse to get away!! Kou’s got your back!!!

If it’s been a day where people just constantly seem to be needing your attention, he’ll start to let his jealousy get to him a bit. It’s not even that some people like your attention- heck, he gets it! He likes having your attention as well. It’s more that… they constantly need your attention. Someone always needing something, even when he just wanted to have a conversation with you :((

In that case, he’ll be slightly clingy, and slightly pouty. Almost like a young child. His lips will be pouted slightly, eyes looking a bit lower to the ground than usual. His hand will be secured in yours, and your shoulder will be lightly pressed against his.

“Kouuu, tell me what’s wrong~,” You spoke, poking his cheek with your index finger. When he was like this, it was easy to tell he was embarrassed about whatever he was pouting over, and not upset over something too serious. It was the perfect time to mess with him.

His face would flush as it usually did- and he’d look away, pouting a bit harder as his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “It’s nothing, (Y/N), really.”

“You’re pouting. Come on, now, you really can tell me. I promise I won’t think of you any less!”

“…it’s just… well- well, seeing all those people around you all day, and I couldn’t really… even get to talk to you. You even had to leave early during lunch-! I’m not angry or anything- it’s dumb, it’s dumb, really-“

“Awwwwh, Kou! Don’t be jealous, sweetheart! It’s not dumb, I actually find it sweet. You know I’d choose you over any of those people. I’d much rather spend time with you than them, but it’s not exactly easy to say no… but, if it makes you feel bad, I’ll make sure they know that, at least, lunch is off-limits.”

“Y-you don’t have to, but… that’s up to you.” (AKA “I want you to, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to do something just for my sake.”)

Overall! Kou’s going to be a sweetheart, even when (not very often) jealous. He doesn’t want you to think he’s silly or not trusting of you when he does get jealous- so he does his best to hide it? Still, he fails, since he can’t help but want to be at least a little closer to you!! Plus the way he pouts- he’s easily read in most situations, and that type is no different.

Mitsuba Sousuke <3

Ahh, where to begin… I suppose the same way I’ve been beginning the other two-

Mitsuba is… a complicated jealous boy? He gets jealous rather easily- and… doesn’t admit it, but makes it painfully obvious. He thinks he isn’t being obvious, but it’s practically plain as daylight.

As he does all things, he masks his jealousy in insults at first! Making his way into whatever conversation or interaction your having, offering an ‘uninterested’ “what’re you doing?” After that, he criticizes every little thing the other person does- his levels of mercy depending on how much the person deserves it.

A quick question? Minimum amount of insults. Maybe one, two if they drag it out.

Just having a normal conversation? More than a short question, but not an excessive amount. If they drag it out too long, the insults go up.

Flirting? Lays the insults on THICK. Plus, after a moment, an annoyed and rather cocky sounding: “why haven’t you gotten lost already? Can’t you see I’m (Y/N)’s boyfriend? You idiot. Moron. Pervert. Who talks to a taken girl like that??”

Touches you? Doesn’t even happen. They reach for you, and he’s smacking their hand away. “Idiot. What right do you have to touch my girlfriend?? That’s invasive. Gross. You’re so weird, trying to put your sticky little hands on her.”

But! If it’s a situation he can’t interfere with, be it because he’s dead and the other person’s alive, or in which the people needing your attention goes on for too long- he enters Sulky Mitsuba Mode.

Don’t get me wrong, Sulky Mitsuba is still full of insults, just… sad. In those times, as a ghost, he can’t help but wonder if you’re content in the relationship. Look at you… popular with other students- other students who could leave the school, buy you things, and such. He was a cute ghost, but he was a ghost. He wasn’t even really Mitsuba- he wasn’t the classmate you once knew. How hard was it for you? Yet, you gave it your best to get to know him again-

Luckily, Mitsuba has the ability to tell himself “if (Y/N) did that much for me, she must at least care.” However, it won’t get rid of all his doubts- and he’ll still sulk once you finally catch up with him.

“Hey, Mitsuba! Sorry, I’ve been busy!”

“Mh? Have you? I’ve barely even noticed you were gone.”

Terrible acting skills, Mitsuba. He looks annoyed, his voice sounds uninterested, but… it’s still somehow easy to see through his little act. He’s jealous, and you’re bound to be aware of it.

Take a seat next to him, and he’ll scoot away. Be patient- when he’s jealous, it’s like approaching a stray cat. No sudden movements or you’ll scare him away!

“I’m sorry, Mitsuba. I know I’ve been caught up today, and I’m really sad that I haven’t seen you much until now. Did you have anything you wanted to do? I’m all yours now!”

“Tch, whatever. I don’t have anything I want to do, so just leave it be.”

Ah… do I even have to mention that he’s stubborn. Apologize a bit, he’ll dismissively forgive you, and go from there. Lighthearted conversation, asking him about his day, talking about yours- slowly move closer to him, and! Next thing you know, his heads on your shoulder as he rants about something that happened.

Overall, Mitsuba does get jealous rather easily! He’s stubborn as always, partnered with his insults constantly ready to be fired- it’s interesting when he gets jealous. He never outright admits that he trusts you, and doesn’t consider much more than “I’m feeling a bit jealous since this person keeps taking (Y/N)’s attention, but he’d never put the blame on you. Just… like I said, be patient, and don’t get too offended.

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redpandaramblings · 3 years

Text

Like Caramel For Chocolate- An Omega Bakugou x Alpha f!Reader fic. Part 6

Part 1 Here

Next part Here

Content Warning: Negative headspace, omegaverse, self deprecation, depressive thoughts, pushy parental figures, ambiguous omegaverse reproduction, unhealthy relationships, relationship that could be easily fixed if idiots would use their words and communicate, Shinso/Denki side relationship, Bakugou is a dumbass but so is y/n

Where we left off-

Before Bakugou could reply, the jeweler came back into the room and handed Denki a piece of paper.

“All right sir, here is your receipt! Your ring should be ready in three days.”

“Thanks.” Denki shoved the receipt into his pocket, quickly making his way to the door. “See you around Bakubro. Don't want to be late for my shift.” The door closed behind him with a bang.

Bakugou wasn’t annoyed though. Now he could pick out the perfect ring for Y/N and not worry about Kaminari being nearby. Everyone knows Kami can’t keep a secret to save his life.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep all of this a secret.” Denki moaned into his hands. He was sitting with his head buried in his arms. Y/N reached across the table and gently petted his hair.

“I know what you mean, but I don’t think either of us are in a good position to start telling people.”

Y/n and Denki sat in a secluded corner of a dimly lit cafe. Both of them had this time free and both of them definitely needed to talk. They stood a lot less chance of anyone asking questions if they were just two friends getting lunch instead of them privately going to each other’s apartments.

Denki looked up, giving Y/N a wide eyed expression. “I know, but I wasn’t expecting Bakugou to show up when I was dropping off that abomination of a ring! I just was lucky the jeweler had already taken it to the back. You were right by the way, that thing is absolutely horrendous. Like, was the designer blind?”

Y/N snorted. “From what I’ve heard, great great grandpappy had a lot more money than brains and wanted to impress his omega by shoving as many stones onto a ring as possible.”

“No kidding. I think it can be seen from space.”

“Very likely.” Y/N chuckled before slumping back into her seat with a sigh. “Though I might have an idea about what Bakugou was doing there.”

“Wait, seriously?”

Y/N nodded with a sigh. “Yeah. When I got back he invited me to the summer festival. I’d forgotten about it.”

“Ah shit, yeah. Isn’t that your guys' anniversary?”

“Yep.” Y/N sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Of course he had to pick this time to actually celebrate. We haven’t gone or done anything… God, I think since he became a hero.”

“So you think he was getting a gift.” Denki sat back as the server came, placing your orders in front of each of you. You both murmured your thank yous and waited until the server was out of earshot before resuming your conversation.

“Yeah, he had to have been. Makes me feel terrible, but there wasn’t a good time to… Well…”

Y/n gestured between herself and Denki.

“Tell him that you’ve been betrothed to an omega of much superior looks, breeding, and manners?”

You gave Denki a little kick under the table as he cackled. He grinned cheekily as he poked at his food. “Sorry. Humor is my coping mechanism. I get it though. Timing sucks all the way around.”

You nodded, sighing and taking a bite of your own food. “Can’t say anything during his heat. Then his schedule was swamped, and I had to sort things out with you. Then bam, anniversary that for some reason he decided to remember this year.”

Denki snorted, popping a bite into his mouth. “That’s about the long and the short of it. And we haven’t even begun to figure out how to tell everyone we’ve not only accepted arranged betrothals, but that we’re engaged to each other.”

“I don’t know, I was kind of hoping we could just move to Tahiti and never speak to our former friend groups ever again?”

“A valid possibility. But that means we’d have to learn French and maybe Tahitian. You know I only passed English because Hitoshi and his dad coached me.”

“Fair point.” You sighed heavily. “But I’m really not looking forward to these conversations.”

“They have to happen though. You might have some anonymity to hide behind, but I’d rather my friends not find out about our engagement when they see an article about Chargebolt getting married.”

“Really?” You smirked slightly. “Then you’re going to tell everyone at your agency, hmm?”

Denki kicked you under the table. “Shut up!”

You poked at your food again as the smile fell from your lips. “So… Did you get a chance to think about what I sent you?”

Kaminari nodded. “Yeah. And I hate to say it, but I think you’re right.”

“I thought about it a lot. I hate to leave the area, but it would be too awkward to stay here after everything.”

A few days ago you had sent Denki an email with a list of places that had job openings that would suit both of you. You both loved where you lived, but after everything, how could you stay? There’s no way the two of you could continue to keep living in the same apartment building as Bakugou. That would be cruel. Cruel to whom you didn’t quite want to think about. You spoke up again.

“Any place catch your eye?”

Kaminari nodded. “I was kind of thinking Okinawa. I have a few connections there. Decent distance from here and from our parents. And that would probably be the easiest transition.”

“Works for me.” You said, as if it wasn’t ripping your heart out to do this. It hurt. But it had to happen. In the end, you had to believe this was what was best for everyone. It might take some time, but this was it. This was what would make everyone happy in the long run.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shinsou was worried. Denki had been acting odd. And that’s saying something. The blond omega was usually loud and bubbly, the life of the agency. At least once a week, he invited Shinsou out for drinks, meals, clubs, karaoke, or some other nonsense. But ever since he’d gotten back from his three day leave, Kaminari had been acting strange. When he thought no one was looking, he was quiet. Withdrawn. Like he was puzzling out the toughest problem of his life.

Denki having a problem? Pretty typical. Denki having a problem and not talking to Shinsou about it? Pretty unusual. The blond had always come to the purple haired alpha with even the simplest of problems. Apartment searches, furniture assembly, what support items would suit his quirk best, even things like what to get from Starbucks. And even though he might groan and roll his eyes, secretly Hitoshi loved every second of it. When he had helped by digging through websites, cobbling together a rickety shelf, or reminding Denki that he always got the most cloyingly sweet items on the menu; Hitoshi got to pretend that he was Denki’s alpha.

Shinsou wasn’t sure exactly when he had fallen in love with Denki. Probably had been since high school at least. His dad had warned him against loud blonds while his father had laughed. But he couldn’t help it. Kaminari had been one of the first people to enthusiastically believe in him. Had always sought him out and wormed his way into Shinsou’s life and heart. And now Shinsou couldn’t understand it, but Denki was pulling away. Even as he watched the blond who was typing up a report on his computer, it somehow felt like Kaminari was slipping right through his fingers.

Shinsou cleared his throat. Kaminari glanced up. “Yeah man? What’s up?”

“You doing okay, Denks? You’ve seemed a little out of it.”

Denki met his eyes, startled, then quickly glanced away. “Yeah. Yep! Totally fine.”

“Denki. I know you.”

Kaminari sighed and slumped on his desk. “Just some life stuff. Family stuff. Friend stuff.”

Shinsou frowned, walking over to place a hand on Denki’s shoulder. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Denki snorted and laughed quietly. Shinsou furrowed his brows.

“Yeah” Denki sighed. “I know. But half of it isn’t really my stuff to tell and the other half isn’t exactly worth talking about.”

“You sure? We could go grab one of your obnoxiously sweet coffees after work. Go to mine or yours, watch an old crappy horror.”

“Tempting. Thanks man. I would, really, but I got some stuff I have to do after work. Some other time maybe.”

Shinsou frowned. It was rare for the omega to turn down an invitation for a movie night. Hell, it was rare for Denki to turn down an invitation, end stop. It made him even more worried about his omega… friend. His omega friend. His friend who just so happens to be an omega. Hitoshi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He really didn’t want to ruin the best friendship he had. But he couldn’t keep this up much longer. His alpha had decided on the electric blond long ago, and the omega’s unusual behavior and unhappy scent was driving him wild with the need to protect. He really needed to pull himself together and confess soon.

“Well, whenever you’re free then,” Shinsou said, reluctantly letting his hand fall from Denki’s shoulder. “You know my number.”

Denki nodded and looked up, giving him half a smile. “I do. Thanks Shinsou.”

Shinsou walked back to his desk, his mind made up. He needed to tell his omega how he felt, and soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N twisted and turned, looking at herself in the mirror. It had been a very long time since she’d worn a yukata. It didn’t feel right to dress up like this. But wearing anything else also felt wrong. Everything about this date felt wrong. Like this was the kind of she she did in another life. And now here she was, going on a date with the man she loved. Who she’d always love. And who she’d already decided she was going to let go.

Y/N snorted and fussed with her hair a bit. Maybe she should have just refused this date. Claimed to be sick or something. But that felt wrong too. So, she just had to get through tonight. After all, what’s one more night of pretending everything is fine? Hopefully this could be a good memory from a relationship that just wasn’t meant to be. After tonight, she’d wait a couple days and then talk to Bakugou and let him go like he clearly wanted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katsuki was going to throw up.

He was going to throw up, right here, all over himself and all over shitty hair, too. His red headed friend was giving him a pep talk as he helped Bakugou into his jinbei. Not that Bakugou needed the help. Or the pep talk. It just was easier to let the squad come over when they had found out about his date. It’s not like he wanted them there or anything. Once Kiri, Mina, and Sero realized he was going to use this date to ask Y/N to be his mate, they had insisted on helping him get ready.

None of them knew about the little velvet box in his pocket and that his plans went further than just asking Y/N to be his mate. Bakugou bit his lip to keep from frowning as he looked over his friends, a certain loud blond conspicuously missing. You wouldn’t hear Katsuki admit it out loud, but he really wished Denki could have been here. He loved the others, and they were great in their own ways. But Denki was his pack’s other omega. He got it in a way that the others didn’t. After tonight, he’d have to make sure to catch Pikachu up on all the news. Hell, maybe he could help his fellow blond finally talk to that purple haired idiot he’d been mooning over for years. Everyone in the pack knew Denki’s family had been harping at him to settle down for quite a while.

Bakugou looked up in time to see Mina coming at him with the hair grease. He threw up his hands.

“Fuck no! Keep that shit away from me!”

“You’ve got to do something about that pile of straw you call a haircut. Besides, Wouldn’t it be nostalgic? Weren’t you interning for Best Jeanist again when you asked Y/N out the first time?”

“Yes, and I’d rather shave myself bald than ever have my hair like that again!”

Mina sighed. “Fine. We’ll do something else. But if I can’t slick it back, you will be wearing eyeliner!”

“IN YOUR DREAMS, PINKY!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You waited outside the entrance to the festival. It was strangely soothing to watch the people flow by, like you were a rock overlooking a stream. There were groups of friends, couples both young and old, families where the laughing children ran ahead of their parents eager to get inside. You gave a small smile at the last. Maybe that could be you someday, a parent getting to see a festival through the eyes of a child again. Though the mental picture was hazier than it used to be. The children you half imagined just blurs of colorful yukatas, instead of loud and stubborn blond haired brats with their father’s eyes and attitude. You huffed a quiet laugh to yourself as a thought occurred to you. If you and Kaminari actually went through with this plan, decent chance the kids would still be blond. The thought hurt a little.

“Y/N!”

You looked up and had the breath knocked out of your lungs.

Katsuki was beautiful. You knew it. Thought it often, even. But tonight he practically glowed. His hair had been tamed into a softer look than usual. The jinbei he wore was the perfect compliment to his skintone. Was that… Yes. Dark eyeliner made his crimson eyes pop. Your heart ached. You’d always love this man. No matter how it tore you apart, he’d always own part of your heart and soul. You smiled weakly and raised your hand in greeting.

“Hey. You look good.”

“Thanks.” Bakugou scratched the back of his head. “Mina got ahold of me.”

“That explains it then.”

“Hey!” Katsuki gently elbowed you in the side before taking his place next to you. “You saying I can’t dress up on my own?”

“Yes.”

“Y/N!” You dodged out of the way as he swatted at you, laughing. Yes. This could be it. One last good night.

“Shall we go in?” You asked, holding out your hand.

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Katsuki asked as he walked past you, ignoring your hand.

You gave a quiet smile as you followed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katsuki picked at his food, none of it making it to his mouth. He was going to be sick. He was going to be sick right here and some paparazzi was going to see and take a picture and the big headline tomorrow was going to be “A Puke Worthy Proposal.” He was trying his best to keep up the illusion that everything was fine and normal, but it was rough. It had been a long time since he’d taken his alpha on even a normal date. And this wasn’t any normal date. It didn’t help that things were feeling forced and awkward.

He wanted to hold your hand, but his own hands were sweating buckets. He tried to keep up casual conversation, but that was getting harder and harder as the night wore on. Every sentence he wanted to just blurt it out and get it over with. It was impossible to keep talking about what vendors he recognized when all he wanted to say was “I love you and I’ll always love you and I want you by my side until the sun stops shining.”

It didn’t help that things felt awkward. Almost nothing was feeling easy or natural. It really had been far too long since the two of you had gone on any sort of date. He frowned as he thought about it. It had been over a year, at least. Longer, even. Well, he was going to have to fix that. He’d be able to use some of that pro hero paycheck and spoil you like you deserved. His Y/N. His mate. And soon, his wife.

Bakugou stared at nothing, his eyes going unfocus as he started daydreaming about how spectacular your wedding would be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was a disaster. You glanced over to where Bakugou stood picking at his food, looking bored. You’d been trying to keep up the conversation, but for the past several minutes you’d only gotten hums or grunts in response to anything you said.

“It’s amazing how they got all those pro heroes to dance nude as one of the main attractions this year.”

Katsuki grunted.

Yeah, he wasn’t paying attention at all.

You sighed, looking down at your own untouched food. You never should have agreed to come. At least this date was proving it to you. This had to end. The two of you didn’t know how to be a couple anymore. It was even clearer that Katsuki wasn’t even interested in trying. You had no idea why he wanted to have this date in the first place. Some bizarre sense of obligation? Maybe his heat had shaken him up enough that his omega needed the sense of normalcy? This issue was this wasn’t normal for the two of you anymore. It hadn’t been for a very long time. You sighed, glancing around for a trash can to oust you untouched dango.

A loud pop caused you to look up. The fireworks were about to start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bakugou looked up at the sound of the first firework.

“Wanna head to the pier?”

You nodded quietly, following him as he led the way. He was sweating so much now that if he set himself off he’d take out half the city.

This was it. It was almost time. The two of you were going to watch the fireworks from the out of the way pier like you had all those years ago. It was at the end of that fireworks show the two of you had had your first kiss. And this time… Well this time at the end of the show he was going to propose and you were going to say yes, and it was going to be perfect.

That is if he didn’t barf before you two got there.

“Hurry up,” he grunted as he picked up the pace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You tried not to flinch at Bakugou’s harsh tone. He clearly wanted to get this night over with even more than you did. You tried not to let it hurt.

The pier was empty as it always was. The lack of lighting keeping others away. The first time you had discovered it, it had felt hidden and intimate. Now it felt desolate. Lonely.

You walked up to the railing and stared at the sky. The fireworks didn’t feel magical anymore either. Your fingers wrapped around the railing as you glanced to the side. Bakugou wasn’t even looking up. He was staring at the reflections of flashes in the dark swirling water below.

You couldn’t do this anymore.

No more.

The fireworks illuminated you as your grip on the railing tightened until your knuckles turned white.

“Katsuki?”

“”What?” He asked roughly, barely glancing your way.

“Let’s break up.”

And that was Part 6, my darlings! Hope you're enjoying the drama, because there's more angst on the way! You can scream at me about the cliffhanger in replies, reblogs, tags or asks. :P

TAGLIST- @yzviea, @not-a-pushover, @thelilypieforever, @kumihayu, @aomi04, @ladybakugouu, @luajosephdun-blog, @hakunamatatayqueen, @my-thoughts-are-weird, @left-alone-yuki, @officialtrashbusiness, @lonelyheart-clubband, @katsuki-cait, @moonwritters26, @animexholic, @kyrah-williams, @emilymikado, @wolvesblaxe360, @ficklemcselfish, @helena-way07, @fandomsaremylifesposts, @baby-bakuhoe, @sukeraa, l@ucypevensie11, @idk-sam, @katsuki-cait, @weirdestlove, @sasa-slayer, @anime-for-live, @kaidousimp, @bluesdustyflames, @vitheria, @milktea0208, @maristaymulti, @whatdidshesayyy, @memesbyeloise , @fandomsgotmefucked, @killmehe, @shy-panda02 Just a reminder, if you want tagged make sure you have the ability to be tagged turned on; and I’d have to be informed if your blog name changes! Cheers, Darlings!

#reader insert #bnha reader insert #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou angst #bakugou x reader #reader insert angst #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #omegaverse #omega bakugou #alpha reader #multi part fic #denki #fake dating #fake engagement #part 6

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realcube · 3 years

Text

you flinch during an argument

navi | masterlist | taglist

thank you to anon for this request

characters ♡ suna, atsumu & sakusa

content warning ♡ cursing, angst, mentions of abuse, hurt to comfort, hinted ptss, parent!reader (in sakusa’s)

rintarō suna

♡ he paced back and forth through the living room, casting you dirty looks whenever you try to speak

♡ you rolled your eyes at how far he took your singular comment on his volleyball career

♡ you were aware that what you said might’ve offended him and in any other situation you would’ve just apologised but considering how needlessly confrontational he was being, of course you were going to be mean too

♡ ‘rin, you’re being overdramatic.’ you muttered off-handedly, assuming he’d brush it off like everything else you said, so ofc you did not expect what he did next

♡ he suddenly stormed over to you

♡ not only did he take you by surprise but also his furrowed brows and generally mad aura unnerved you too, so your natural instinct was to flinch

♡ once he saw that, he immediately stopped in his tracks

♡ his head slowly tilted to the side and his clenched jaw loosened, ‘(y/n)?’

♡ your hands were still covering your face but when you heard the suna’s soft voice, you realised what you had just done and craned your neck out to peer over your hands, ‘yes?’

♡ obviously, his intention wasn’t to hurt you but rather just stand in front of you. though it worried him that your natural instinct was to prepare yourself for harm from him. despite the fact he would/has never hit you.

♡ ‘are you okay?’ he sighed, slowly approaching you as if you were a small critter that’d run away in fright at any moment

♡ you hesitantly lowered your arms, eyes wide as you intensely examined his every move, ‘i’m fine. are you okay?’

♡ suna gestured to the seat beside you on the couch, ‘i’m good. can i sit?’

♡ you simply nodded

♡ he reluctantly sat down next to you and gently placed his hand on your knee, tracing circles with his thumb, ‘i didn’t mean to scare you. i’m sorry.’ he said, his now hushed voice contrasting to how sharp and loud his words were just a minute ago

♡ you blinked rapidly, shocked at how quickly his demeanour changed but also relieved he realised that what he did brought you discomfort, ‘it’s fine, i guess. it just looked like you were going to- y’know. and i’m sorry too, what i said was uncalled for’ you murmured, the words just falling from your lips without any prior thought as your mind was somewhere else

♡ ‘i’d never do that.’ he blurted out, ‘but i get why you might’ve thought.’

♡ a few minutes passed and not a word was spoken - you just blankly stared at the wall opposite, completely lost in thought while suna closed his eyes, slumped back in his seat and revaluated everything he did

♡ eventually, you snapped out of your contemplation and turned to look at him, only to see his sleeping figure beside you

♡ it was probably the most peaceful you’ve saw him all day - so you decided against waking him up and instead cuddled up to him, accidentally falling asleep yourself

atsumu miya

♡ you had your arms crossed over your chest, patiently waiting for atsumu to finish his hissy fit

♡ ‘it was a fucking joke, (y/n)! not that i’d expect you to understand my humour anyway. do you not get what you did? you fucking embarrassed me.’

♡ ‘it wasn’t a very funny joke, atsumu.’ you shook your head disapprovingly, trying your very best to keep a level-head but his nasty remarks didn’t make it an easy task for you, ‘you made me really uncomfortable so of course i was going to say something. also, i didn’t embarrass you, you embarrassed yourself.’

♡ the fact you weren’t as worked-up about this as he was only irritated him more. because deep-down, he knew he was being overdramatic and the contrast between both of your demeanours only highlighted this fact.

♡ he gritted his teeth together, momentarily side-eyeing you before absentmindedly cracking his knuckles

♡ he cracked his bones when he got tense - you knew this - but there was a faint voice at the back of your head, insisting that you had to run away bc he was preparing to hit you

♡ and it didn’t help when he jerked his head around to look at you

♡ though it was only the movement of his neck, this caused you to flinch as a part of you expected his hasty motion to be followed by a swing of his hand

♡ you never really thought too much of your action and assumed atsumu would pay no mind to it and continue to talk but you couldn’t have been more wrong

♡ he slapped his hand over his mouth and let out gasp as though his whole soul was exiting his body through his mouth

♡ your eyes were squeezed shut but you blinked them open to see when you mentally established that atsumu wasn’t going to swing at you and had actually stopped yelling

♡ ‘(y/n)- i’d- i’d never do that!’ the volume of his voice gradually rose as he spoke, starting as breathy emphasis and increasing to a cry

♡ upon noticed his appalled expression and his frozen structure, you dropped your arms which you had automatically raised in defence, ‘you’d never do what?’ you voice was hushed, afraid that if you spoke too loud, you’d reignite his temper

♡ he rushed over to your side, immediately opening up his strong arms for you to enter, if you wished, ‘i’d never hit you.’

♡ both his eyes and tone seemed sincere so without even thinking, you found yourself leaning into his embrace, his arms holding you close - but gently

♡ you really had no reason not to believe him as he’s never harmed you purposely in the past and he didn’t plan on harming you just there; he didn’t even plan on intimidating you but that kinda just happened involuntarily

♡ he had so much on his mind, so much he needed so say at once, so much he wanted you to know. hence, it all came out as rambles.

♡ ‘i love you, (y/n). i love you so much. i don’t want anyone to hurt you - including myself. i just want you to feel safe - i want you to be safe - so i’ll leave if you don’t feel that way with me around. i can understand why you wouldn’t. but heh, i guess it’s quite funny because i feel the safest when i’m with you. well, it’s not funny - i’m actually gonna miss you like hell - but it’s ironic. i wouldn’t even dream of harming you, love, but i don’t expect you to live in fear constantly so yeah, i’ll go if you want me to.’

♡ you blinked rapidly against his chest, pulling back to look him in the eyes and to your surprise, he appeared to be in more tears than you

♡ ‘i love you too, atsumu.’ you cooed, wiping away one of his tears with your shivering hand, ‘we don’t have to break-up. i mean, truthfully, i feel safe when you’re around too.’

♡ he let out an audible sigh of relief, ‘thank goodness.’

♡ a few moments passed of you just silently enjoying the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms until he spoke up once again while placing an infintite amount of kisses on your forehead, punctuating each kiss with an ‘i love you.’

kiyoomi sakusa

♡ he was sitting beside you on the bed but he had long before withdrew his arm which rested behind your head when you expressed your concern surrounding his hostile behaviour lately

♡ ‘omi, i’m too ti--’

♡ ‘don’t call me that.’

♡ you sighed as you realised that this had spiralled into a heated fight which you really didn’t intend for it to become. all you wanted to do was talk to him about how rude he’s been to you and the baby as of recently and try to work out a solution but he had turned this into something way bigger than it needed to be.

♡ the remarks he was throwing around - as if they were nothing - resulted in a wrath bubbling in the pits of your stomach, which had been present and building up since the start of sakusa’s attitude problems

♡ you knew that if this argument didn’t stop soon, you’d lash out on him and although you really didn’t have a problem with that in theory, you had spent hours trying to get the baby to fall asleep and you didn’t want to risk waking them up with the noise

♡ and though you hated to give sakusa (mental) praise in a situation like this, you had to admit that he was good at keeping his voice down even while angry

♡ so you decided that it was best to diffuse this situation quickly and pick it up at a later date, ‘you know what, kiyoomi--’

♡ ‘don’t call me that either.’ at this point it was clear he was just saying that to piss you off, and it was working

♡ ‘--i’m going to bed; i’m tired from doing all the work in this damn house. we’ll talk about this later.’

♡ sakusa quirked a brow, scoffing at your statement despite the fact it was completely true

♡ ‘no, let’s talk about it right now. since you clearly have a lot to say.’

♡ instead of replying, you gave him what he deserved - the silent treatment

♡ you casually pulled off your slippers, tossing them aside, proceeding to do other nightly activities - while completely ignoring his presence - then reached down to pull the duvet over yourself so you could drift into sweet, serene slumber to imagine a life where sakusa acted like loved you again

♡ ‘(y/n).’ sakusa snapped, his voice sharp and demanding, ‘listen to me. talk to me- god, you’re so immature.’

♡ your eyes widened; out of the corner of your eye you saw him quickly raise his arm

♡ during your three years of marriage with sakusa, not once had he ever purposefully harmed you - physically or emotionally - but you were aware that what you were doing displeased him so your immediate reaction was to turn away and shield yourself with your forearms

♡ sakusa froze

♡ moments passed and you had yet to feel the impact of his hand so you lowered your defences to peer at him, only to see that his arm was stretched upwards as he yawned

♡ his gaze flickered between you and his arm - he was truly at a loss for words at what he just witnessed

♡ a lump formed at the back of his dry throat as he didn’t dare to speak, trying to communicate all his emotions through his eyes which grew increasingly difficult as they began to burn with tears and ache from the elongated period of time he went without blinking

♡ he wanted to tell you that he’d never lay an finger on you in that way, that he adores you and he was aware of how he’s been treating you recently but he was previously too arrogant to change his ways. now he was ready to change though, if it’s not too late.

♡ but all that came out was a choked syllable followed by a cough

♡ ‘are you okay, omi?’ you tilted your head, watching as your husband coughed his lungs out beside you, his puffy, irritated eyes squeezed shut

♡ he eventually managed to catch his breath and the first thing he did was offer his shaky hand to you

♡ though you were reluctant at first, upon meeting his gaze, it was as though his fury had melted away. his eyebrows were no longer knitted together, his judgemental sneer was now a gentle smile he wore to try reassure you and the way he looked at you resembled how he did on your wedding day. all the resentment, all the stress and all irritation was gone - which left you with the considerate, understanding man you had married.

♡ you fingers found their way to his as you slowly intertwined them together, ‘we should, uh, g-get some rest, yeah?’ you stuttered, your lips gradually curling into a weak grin

♡ a faint hum of agreement could be heard from sakusa as he shuffled so he was now laying down, with a duvet draped over him

♡ though he lay with the intention of going to sleep, he kept his hand locked with yours all throughout the night

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thefanficmonster · 4 years

Text

Love For The Faceless

Corpse Husband x Youtuber!Reader(Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Y/N is a YouTube gamer who has recently gained a much larger following thanks to the streams she does with her friends. Naturally, considering her faceless and bodiless nature, people are starting to get curious about her. When she finally follows her friend Corpse’s example, a lot more than her hands is revealed.

Requested by anon, you know who you are 😉 Thank you so much for placing a request and hope this fic fulfills the expectations you have for it.

“Hey!“ I greet the lobby as I finally hop into the Discord call after quickly saying ‘hi‘ to my audience.

I’ve been a YouTuber for four years now and I’ve only recently started streaming, encouraged to do so by my best friend Rae. She’s the one who got me in multiplayer games such as Among Us and Phasmophobia which led me to meet her amazing gaming squad that consists of some of the most famous names on the platform. They are all wonderful people and I will forever be in Rae’s debt for introducing me to them. However, becoming friends with Felix, Sean and the rest of the team brought not only a more fulfilled life, but also a small boost in following. Who am I kidding, it wasn’t small. It was overwhelming, terrifying even.

My YouTube channel had a little over a million subscribers at the start of quarantine and now....now it’s closer to three million. Speaking of three million, I’m about to reach it any day now and it’s really hard to believe. I’m a gaming youtuber and I’ve never considered changing my genre despite expecting to not get any attention whatsoever, with all the big names on the platform. I was convinced not even as many as a hundred people would stumble across my videos and now here we are.

My OG subscribers are very supportive of my sudden growth and are defending me when my newer fans ask for a face reveal or whatnot. While we’re on that topic I might have to mention that not even my YouTube friends, and that includes Rae have seen my face. I’ve been faceless and bodiless for the entirety of my time on social media. Some claim I do it to grab more attention or for dramatic effect, but the reason is beyond that. I’m not shallow. Actually, shallow people are the reason I don’t show my face. I’ve never been the prettiest, but my middle school bully thought that I wasn’t lacking self confidence enough. As a result, I ended up with a not so handsome scar on my right cheek that starts from the corner of my mouth and nearly misses my eye. Yeah, it’s a long and pretty noticeable scar that has thankfully become less and less obvious as the years have progressed. Still, it’s not something I’d like to show to my viewers.

Eight ‘hi’s greet me back, each making my smile grow wider. “Sorry I’m late guys. Technical difficulties.”

“Don’t worry.“ Rae’s voice dominates over the rest, “Corpse still isn’t here so we’re waiting for him.“

I mute myself on the Discord call and take a look at my comments. I’m most flattered by the comments about my voice. Seeing as how they don’t have much to compliment about me other than my content, they make the nicest comments about my voice, personality and humor. Those comments are the ones who warm my heart most. Even when people in my day to day life compliment my appearance I can’t find it in me to believe they are being genuine. I’d like to believe these amazing people are being one hundred percent honest when they tell me they like me for who I am and not for what I might look like.

“Sorry I’m late guys.“ A deep voice causes me to even physically jolt, switching my focus from the comments to the Among Us lobby where my eyes land on the newly materialized black avatar.

“Hi Corpse.“ Rae greets him.

“Hello mister who broke Twitter!“ Sean laughs, provoking the laughter of the rest of the players.

“Yeah, congratulations man. That’s a big deal.“ Felix chimes in.

“Thanks guys, but I think you’re forgetting we’re talking about a picture of my hand.“ Corpse chuckles timidly. I have noticed how shy he gets when someone gives him a compliment - like a snail slowly withdrawing in its shell. I find it adorable.

“That’s what makes it even better!“ I unmute my mic, sending my own congratulations.

“While we’re on that topic...“ Rae begins, waiting for the rest of us to shut our traps, suggesting she has something important to say. “Y/N, do you ever plan on doing a reveal like that? Not a face reveal. Just a body part reveal.“

I have no problem talking about the subject with friends but I get nervous when I’m supposed to discuss it with my fans. Seeing as how everyone, including myself, is streaming right now, I get a bit of a stutter in my speech. “Haven’t thought about it yet. But I guess a body part reveal is harmless.” I cringe immediately after letting the words leave my mouth, “That sounds so weird.”

Rae knows that I’m not too fond of my face, but I haven’t told her about my scar yet. I let almost all people I’ve met online think I’m using my lack of appearance for effect. For the mystery of it all. Mysteries attract people which equals attention. Attention equals views and the domino effect continues.

“Just a suggestion. No pressure.“ Rae adds quickly, knowing full well I get anxious when the subject is brought up in front of cameras. “Let’s get this game started, shall we.”

* * *

The idea dwells in my mind, sitting on the back burner even after I disconnect from the Discord call. I’m sitting in my gaming chair, which was a gift for my two million milestone, and weighing out the pros and cons of the action Rae suggested I take.

“It’s a picture of your fucking hand, dummy. How bad can it turn out?“ I say out loud, shaking my head at my indecisiveness. “You’ll be fine.”

In a blur, two pictures are already posted on my Instagram. The first one captioned ‘Took a leaf from my friend’s book. Did I do it right @ corpsehusband?’ and the second ‘Thanks, Rae. These are on you.’

Rae’s POV

As I’m watching a movie in my living room, I get a notification from Instagram, informing me that Y/N has posted for the first time in a while.

I scoff, “More like the first time in forever.”

The first thing that comes to my mind is the possibility of her reaching that three million milestone that’s been long time coming. I bring the glass of water that’s sitting on my coffee table to my lips, taking a sip as I tap the notification. The picture I see makes me hurry to put the glass back down so I don’t drop it. Y/N’s hand. Her fingers are covered with several thin rings each. And here I thought Corpse had too many rings, this girl has at least two on every finger!

Then my eyes land on the second picture she has posted only minutes after the first and my heart drops. I struggle to get the water that’s been sitting in my moth down my esophagus while my mind is struggling with the task to comprehend the picture I’m looking at.

Another hand is resting on top of Y/N’s. A hand also covered in rings but fewer and larger. The nails are painted black.

I think I know who it belongs to.

Before I can even finish the thought, I’m dialing Y/N. She picks up after the second ring, sound cheery as ever as she greets me. “Hey Rae!”

“Don’t you ‘Hey Rae’ me!” I practically scream. I hate being kept in the dark about anything ever so this is just driving me mad. On top of all, she’s my best friend, for fuck’s sake. “Is that Corpse in the photo with you?!”

“Ugh....“ the cheeriness to her voice is all but gone now.

I go on with my rant, not giving her the time to reply. Not that she would reply. I bet she doesn’t know what to say. “So he knows where you live?! Or was the picture taken at his place?! He knows what you look like?! You have seen him! He has seen you in real life but me, your best friend, haven’t!!! You are breaking Covid 19 protection laws to take pictures?! Are you fucking serious, Y/N?!”

There’s a long moment of silence which frustrates me even more but I literally have run out of things to yell and the power to be angry. I mean, I still am, I just can’t express it.

“Rae, sweetheart, please calm down. You’re scary when you’re mad.“ This girl has some fucking nerve! She’s on the verge of laughing!

“Listen here you...“

“Rae, please stop scaring my girlfriend.“ That oh so distinguishable, oh so familiar voice interrupts me.

I am flabbergasted, for a lack of a better term.

“Now that we’ve got you quiet, I can explain.“ Y/N pics up the conversation, “Corpse and I have been dating for six, almost seven months now. We started dating around Easter after talking for quite some time. We moved in together at the end of September. All thanks to you, Rae. You’re the best.” She pauses to breathe in real quick, “There, all caught up?“

I’m in no less shock than I was before she explained. Actually, I think I might be even more confused now. It all just feels like a fever dream. “Yes...no. I don’t fucking know! I need details, Y/N!”

“Details later.“ Corpse makes his presence known once again, “We’re watching Family Guy right now. Talk to you later.“

“Love you, Rae!“ Y/N calls out before the line goes dead.

My arm goes limp, dropping my phone on the couch next to me.

“Motherfuckers” I mumble under my breath.

Y/N’s POV

It’s been a week since Rae has stopped talking to both Corpse and me. I know she just needs some time to cool off. In the meantime, the rest of our friends were informed and, as oppose to Rae, were nothing but supportive and overjoyed. I bet Rae feels the same way though. Sean, Dave and the rest of the gang have confirmed that she’s incredibly happy for us and says she noticed a spark between me and him since day one, but she can’t help but be mad at us, and especially me, for not telling her sooner.

“Any regrets?“ I remember Corpse asking me when we hung up on her after dropping the bomb.

“Not being able to see her face when she saw the picture.“ I beam at him, feeling as content as ever.

He laughs, agreeing with me before leaning down to kiss me.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @itsminniekat @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios

#corpse #corpse husband #corpsehusband #husband #corpse husband fanfic #corpse simp #corpse husband fanficiton #corpse fanfiction #corpse fanfic #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband x reader #x reader #reader #request #requests open

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 3 years

Text

Show Me [Part 1/2]

Summary: Spencer finds out his girlfriend’s a virgin. But she wants him to change that.

A/N: This is an anon request that I loved writing. This is Part 1 and I’m working on Part 2 right now! If you like this and wanna read some more of my stuff check out my Masterlist, or my series, I’m On Fire.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Mostly smut, and a lil fluff

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, oral (male receiving), fingering, slight hair pulling, please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 3k

Request: “Omg I’ve just found your account, you’re an amazing writer! If you’re taking requests, could you write something with virgin!reader and like season 13/14 Spencer?”

Read Part 2 Here

They’ve never had sex.

They’ve kissed though. They’ve kissed so much it made Spencer feel like a teenager, well what he assumed it was like to be a regular teenager.

They’d kiss everywhere they could, in his bed, in her bed, in his kitchen, in the car, in hotel rooms, one time in a supply closet at the BAU. But mostly they ended up on Spencer’s couch. The first time they did anything more than just kissing was on Spencer’s couch, it wasn’t exactly planned it just, happened.

They were making out and she was lying beneath him, there was a sort of comfort in the feeling of his weight on top of her, keeping her fixed beneath him. She’d worn a pretty short dress for their date earlier, one she knew Spencer liked, but after all of the squirming and moving it just sort of rode up.

She didn’t feel it happening but when Spencer came up for air and looked down at her, all he could see was the skirt of her dress, bunched up around her waist, and the little pink panties she had on underneath, absolutely soaking wet.

He let out a small chuckle, looking back up at her, “Have you been wet this entire time?” he smirked.

She doesn’t think too hard about it. She’s so turned on by the way he looks right now, his hooded eyes and his softly parted pink lips are so distracting that she forgets he’s never seen her like this before and she nods.

“Mmhmm” she hums, and bites her lip in anticipation of his next move.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, soft and gentle and she nods again, a little too shy to do much else.

He starts by touching her above her underwear, pushing against the cotton, moving it around between her folds with one finger. She was already moaning and writhing beneath him with that simple touch.

When he tucked a finger inside of her panties he shouldn’t have been shocked but he was. She was so wet, almost screaming in pleasure below him and he’d only grazed her clit once or twice. He thought she might combust when he sunk just one finger into her and she was so tight and clenched around the digit. Squirming even when he was motionless inside of her.

It wouldn’t have taken long to actually make her cum, that was obvious. But he was having so much fun with it that he decided to drag this out for as long as he could. Bringing her to the edge over and over until she was literally begging him for release. By the end of it she was completely spent, her arousal coating her thighs, his hands, and a little of the couch. He took off her panties and stashed them in his pocket and she really wished she didn’t find that quite as hot as she did.

He doesn’t want to test her limits again right away, he wants her to come to him when she's ready. But it doesn’t happen again for a while. They go back to their usual dance, making out like teenagers, sometimes for hours until the point when one of them has to leave, or sleep, or they’re both called away on a case.

It’s not until a whole month has passed that things change again.

Y/N sneaks into Spencer’s room one night while they’re out on a case. He’s a little shocked to see her but he’s happy none the less. What’s shocking him more than anything is the skimpy little nightdress she’s got on, and how more notably it seems like she’s not wearing a bra underneath it.

“What are you doing?” he asks when he opens the door to her, and what he wants to say is ‘you can’t be out in the halls looking like this’, and what he really means by that is, ‘you can’t be in my room looking like this because I’ll never recover’.

“Can I come in?” she asks softly, and almost a little worried, so he steps aside to let her in.

They sit on the edge of his bed, her posture is rigid as she sits, and she takes in a deep breath before she speaks again.

“Do you like the way that I look?” she asks, tentative, and his heart just about breaks. Of course he did. He had since the second he laid eyes on her.

“Yes, oh my god. You’re the prettiest girl I think I’ve ever seen?” he rushes out, his hand reaching out to touch her bare shoulder in a comforting gesture. But she doesn’t look relieved or satisfied by the admission.

“But do you—” she braces herself, “do you think I'm sexy?”

He’s got no idea what’s happening, if she didn’t look so serious he’d think this was some kind of joke. “Are you serious?” he gasps, “Are you kidding me?” he hops off the bed and sinks to his knees in front of her.

“I don’t know how I got so lucky. You’re the prettiest, sexiest, woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” he tries to reassure, placing his hands on her knees and looking up at her.

“Then why don’t we—” she’s not even sure what she’s trying to ask, “Why do we only kiss? Don’t you want to...” she trails off, and there’s something endearing about the way she can’t even seem to bring herself to say any explicit words out loud.

“Don’t I want to sleep with you?” he guesses, knowing it’s the right answer, “Y/N, I want to sleep with you so, so badly. I think about it all the time.” he confesses and her eyes blow wide.

“You do?”

He nods eagerly, “All. The. Time.” he emphasizes, “When you play with your hair in work, when you fall asleep on my lap while we’re watching a movie, when you kiss me for hours, when you bite your lip while you’re concentrating, when you wear that little navy pencil skirt, when you show up to my hotel room dressed like this” he gestures to her nightdress, “or when I think about your little pink panties in the top drawer of my nightstand” he whispers the last part.

“I just thought…” she searches for the end of the sentence, “I thought you didn’t want to?” she pouts.

“I thought you weren’t ready” he says it so earnest, and he means it. He’d never want to make her feel like it wasn’t her choice.

“I haven’t— I’ve never— I’m a virgin Spencer.” she confesses, and she doesn’t look at him while she does, too shy from the admission.

“That’s okay” he moves his hands up to grab hers gently, gazing up at her with nothing but adoration in his eyes, “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do”

“But I want to, with you” she looks at him now and her gaze is so soft that he melts.

“I want to as well. But not here.” he sits back up on the bed next to her, “It shouldn’t be in some cheap motel with our co-workers down the hall. We can do it at my place, or yours, or we could book an actual nice hotel room in the city somewhere? Whatever you want.” she nods at him and smiles.

“I’d like that a lot” she looks happy now, content and relieved, “but could we maybe still do something now?”

He’s taken aback completely, “Did you have something in mind?”

She looks shy again, and he has to coax it out of her, squeezing her hands in his and giving her an encouraging kiss on the cheek.

“When you touched me on your couch that time. I wanted to do something for you, but I wasn’t sure— I didn’t want to get it wrong so I just chickened out” she admits.

“What did you want to do?” he pries gently.

“I wanted to use my mouth” she breaks eye contact when she speaks. He can’t take it anymore so he tilts her head softly with one of his hands so she has to look directly at him again.

“You wanted to use your mouth on what?” he’s doing it on purpose to get her out of her shell.

“On your— on your cock” she whispers out like she's embarrassed to even say it at full volume.

“You wanted to suck my cock?” he asks and she can feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she nods.

“Please?” she asks, and he never thought he'd have a girl this beautiful asking him if she could ‘please’ suck his cock. How did he get this lucky?

“Only if you want to”

“I really do” she volunteers, “but I need you to tell me… how?”

“So you’ve never done it before?” he asks, he’s been aware she was a virgin but he’s got no idea what she had or hadn’t done before. She shakes her head.

“When you, touched me, that was the first time anyone other than me had well…”

“And you’ve never touched anyone else?” he asks, soft and sweet, rubbing his thumb over and back on the top of her hand.

“I have.” she says, “With other boys when I was younger but never anything more”

“Okay” he says encouraging.

“How do we start?” she looks less nervous now that it’s all out in the open.

“Like we always do” he breaks out in a smile as he leans in to kiss her. Her lips are so soft against his, perfect as always.

He pulls her toward him and parts their lips long enough to tell her to sit on his lap. She obliges, she loves to sit like this while they kiss, he knows that too. Sitting this way she can feel him as he starts to grow hard beneath her, only the thin fabric of his boxers keeping him from her.

His hands hold onto her thighs, digging his fingernails into the sides of them as she moans into his mouth. He chances moving one of his hands up her side, and as he hovers it above her chest he breaks apart from her for just a moment. “Can I?” he asks, and she nods before he places a hand on her breast over the fabric of her nightdress. And he knew she wasn’t wearing a bra.

He couldn't stop himself from bringing the other hand up so he could cup both breasts. Massaging and kneading them, feeling her nipples begin to harden and stand out from the satin fabric.

She grinds down against him momentarily and her eyes grow wide. “Are you?” she looks down between them, clearly feeling him.

“I’m hard Y/N” he says softly, and she looks almost giddy.

“I’m ready” she breathes out and swings off his lap, taking charge now that she’d worked up some confidence. It’s not like she had no idea what to do. She’s watched porn, she’s read a few things about it, but she also knew there was no way to really know what it was like without actually doing it.

She kneels down in front of him, pulling apart his knees so that she can nestle down in between them. She’s the one that pulls down the waistband of his boxers, just far enough so that she can pull his cock out.

She feels stupid in a way. She hadn’t given much thought to how it would look but it was different to what she’d anticipated. It was flushed pink, and leaking from the tip. And it was bigger, or thicker maybe, than she’d been expecting. She had a vibrator at home and it didn’t look like this. For one thing it was purple, but it was also smaller than this. For a moment she's nervous before she realizes that this is Spencer. And she could never feel nervous with him.

“Is everything alright? If you’ve changed your mind—” he starts and she shakes her head probably a bit too vigorously.

“No! It’s just— bigger, than I was expecting” she says holding it loosely in her hand.

“Oh” he says, unable to his his surprise, “thank you?” She giggles at him, unaware she’d actually been paying him a compliment.

“What do you like?” She asks, peering up at him and fluttering her eyelashes like she’d done this a million times before.

“Well, um,” he’s the one with the shaky breath now, and he’s not sure when he got so nervous, “I guess if you lick it first, that always feels good” he’s barely got the sentence out and she’s on him. Licking a long stripe up the underside of his cock, right along the vein, reaching the tip and swiping up the pre-cum leaking from the slit there. He’s got to struggle not to throw his head back in pleasure instantly, he wants to see it, wants to watch all of it.

She takes her mouth off of him and looks up with those doe eyes again, and now that he’s looking he can see down her nightdress. He’s got a perfect view of her perky nipples, turned on beneath the fabric and his dick twitches at the sight.

“Like that?” she pulls off him to ask, and he can barely breathe.

“Fuck Y/N! Exactly like that” he groans, chest heaving, his hands clawing at the duvet.

She smiles up at him, “and then what?”

“Uh, take it in your mouth, you don't have to take it the whole way down, just as far as you feel comfortable with” he assures her, trying to steady out his breathing. He doesn’t want her to gag or anything. “then just use your hands for the rest.”

She nods, thinking for a moment before bringing her mouth back down to him. This time she licks him again, all the way up and around the tip, just a little slower than before. Then she wraps her plush lips around the head of his cock. He moans louder than he meant to as she starts to sink down on him, further and further, taking him in inch by inch.

She didn't quite get the whole way down but she got way further than he thought she would. Taking in as much of him as she could she began to rise up again. It took a little adjusting to make sure she was breathing in and out through her nose, but once she got the hang of it she began to pick up the pace.

Sliding up and down against him, the feeling of her warm, wet mouth was almost too much. He’d gotten himself off to thoughts of her for months now and it just didn’t compare. Not by a long shot, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

She stopped after another minute and looked up at him, “Is it okay? Does it feel good?” she asks, unsure.

“Jesus, fuck. Y/N, it feels so good. You feel so good” he gasps and she looks delighted.

“Would you, maybe, put your hands in my hair?” she asks, a little nervous, and he’s shocked for what feels like the 100th time this evening, “I like how it feels” she says, shy and unsure. So he sits forward, leaning down a little so he can take her face in his hands.

“How did I get so lucky?” he plants a kiss on her lips and moves his hands from the side of her face into her hair. Gathering it up into a ponytail and gripping it firmly. She lowers down again, wrapping her lips around the head once more and sinking down. Bolstered by his compliments and ignoring her nerves she forces herself to sink further down on him this time. Taking him as deep as she possibly can until she can feel him hit the back of her throat for the briefest moment before she has to pull back.

But the strangled moan that he lets out when she’s got him that far down is so gorgeous that it might be the only noise she ever wants to hear again.

He pulls at her hair roughly as she starts to move faster and faster, and she moans at the feeling. The vibrations she creates around his cock just make him pull even harder, letting out some of the pent up tension.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m so close. You can stop.” he forces out with shallow breaths, but she doesn’t budge. He tries to pull her off him using his grip on her hair but she resists, and she just keeps on moving. Up and down his length, taking down as much of him as possible on each stroke.

“Fuckkkk” he moans out as he releases, and he can feel it pumping into her throat as she swallows around him.

When she pulls off, and she’s looking up to him for approval, her eyes wide, her lips and chin coated in spit and cum as it drips down, he knows without a doubt that she’s the sexiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“Was that okay?” she asks hopeful.

“Was that okay?” he rushes out in disbelief, “Get up here.” he helps her off her knees and pulls her onto his lap again, holding her close. “I can’t believe you.” he shakes his head and pulls her in for a sloppy kiss, he can taste himself on her tongue as they mold together.

“That was perfect, beyond perfect, fuck” he wipes her chin with his thumb, it doesn’t do much but it’s a gesture.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, brushing her hair back with his hands, and she’s just looking at him, beaming.

“I liked it” she says, like she can’t really believe just how much she enjoyed herself, “I can’t wait to learn more.”

Read Part 2 Here

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