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#drawing snake instead of studying we move
fishdiva · 3 months
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snakey doodle
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sustainablesiren · 2 months
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Field Trip to Lover's Key State Park
My field trip last week to Lover’s Key State Park reset some ideas about sustainability in my mind. Our guide, Kush, led us on the Black Island Trail and to the beach, sharing information about the native species on the island as we passed them as seen in Photograph 1 and Photograph 2 below.
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In 2022, Hurricane Ian ravaged the ecosystem on this island and several others. Florida’s economy relies heavily on the beaches and waters. Tens of billions of dollars in tourism have been lost (Cerullo, 2022) and many habitats gone to aggressive waves and flooding. The people have come back and rebuilding has been underway, but only time will tell for these rattled ecosystems. As seen in Photograph 3, the mangroves more inland (to the right) are doing better compared to those on the beach that are more bare (to the left). Photograph 4, from Mote Marine Laboratory and Aquarium, describes where and how the mangroves work.
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The mangroves are still recovering from the hurricane and are severely stressed or possibly dead. With the effects of climate change (i.e. Hurricane Ian), our beaches are in danger. The following excerpt from the class book resonated with me after the field trip:
“Much of the danger from climate change will arrive from water, either too much or too little. Rising temperatures cause air to expand, allowing it to hold more water vapor. This will result in more water evaporating from soils and surface waters, and in more precipitation; dry areas will get drier, while wet areas will get wetter…In some regions flooding will increase” (Robertson, 2021, p.125).
With time, people will learn that “climate change is a threat to human well-being and the health of the planet” (Herald, 2022). There will be more hurricanes and more flooding occurring in Florida within the coming decades. Securing a livable future is becoming more and more bleak as the years pass and studies show things are not improving around the world. The reason, the book tells better than I can:
“Traditional conservation biology over the past several decades has held that the primary threats to species and ecosystems – the primary drivers of extinction – are habitat destruction, invasive species, pollution, population, and overexploitation. Conservation biologists summarize these threats using the acronym HIPPO” (Robertson, 2021, p.139).
The threat to these habitats, like the cause of climate change, is human based. Careless destruction and taking of resources and the resulting pollution to ‘sustain’ the population is causing us to live off borrowed time.
The animals and plant life found within Lover’s Key have sustainable relationships. The holes gopher tortoises make for themselves (Photograph 5) can create refuge for other animals such as snakes and raccoons in need as seen below.
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The strangler fig below uses a host tree to grow to be free-standing (Photograph 6) while using its roots to help the host tree withstand strong storms.
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The detritus from leaves falling to the ground feeds the bugs, which feeds the birds, which rest in the trees and can shake leaves off. The Calusa Natives from hundreds of years ago lived off the land from fishing, hunting, and foraging. Now, people are moving down and developing along the coastlines, endangering the sensitive ecosystems that draw them to the area. Instead, preservation of these areas is needed to protect the native species and people who live close by as things will get worse. It seems more will be lost before it gets to that point though.
Sources:
Cerullo, Megan. (2022, September 29). Ian’s economic toll in Florida could reach $60 billion to $70 billion. CBS News. https://www.cbsnews.com/news/hurricane-ian-tropical-storm-citrus-mining-tourism-economic-impact/
Herald, A. H.-. M. (2022, February 28). Florida is already seeing climate change. New global report says it could worsen. WUSF. https://www.wusf.org/environment/2022-02-28/florida-is-already-seeing-climate-change-new-global-report-says-it-could-worsen
Rende, Samantha. (2024). Photograph 1 [Photograph].
Rende, Samantha. (2024). Photograph 2 [Photograph].
Rende, Samantha. (2024). Photograph 3 [Photograph].
Rende, Samantha. (2024). Photograph 4 [Photograph].
Rende, Samantha. (2024). Photograph 5 [Photograph].
Rende, Samantha. (2024). Photograph 6 [Photograph].
Robertson, Margaret. Sustainability Principles and Practice, Taylor & Francis Group, 2021. ProQuest Ebook Central, https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/fgcu/detail.action?docID=6457832.
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loousir · 3 years
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[Naga] Warmth
Naga Male x Warm Male Reader
Cassius
Warnings: Warming up a cold snake man, hip grabbing, cuddling, suggested dirty stuff but not written/explicitly stated
Masterlist
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It's been a few hours since a surprise snowstorm started. It's not even winter, it's the middle of spring. Currently, you were stuck in a cave you had retreated to, and judging by the minimal decoration, it was occupied by someone, or something.
You decided it was best to light a fire in the fire pit that sat in the middle of the cave. The fire crackled softly and you looked around to find some logs sitting towards the back of the cave. You went to grab them and put them in the fire but when you turned around you saw just who probably lived in the cave. A large naga had made its way into the massive hollowed rock, not taking notice of you.
It was maybe twice the size of you and was beautiful. Their large tail was a baby pink with darker pink spots which is something you have never seen on a normal snake, let alone a naga. You carefully made your way back over to the fire, getting a closer look at, what you now knew as a him, while he tried to coil against himself for warmth.
His hair was the same dark pink as the spots on his tail and his pale torso held similar markings that went up his back. His underbelly was pale pink, nearly white. The most standout thing you noticed about him was that he was trembling. You set the logs onto the fire which caught his attention. His dark pink, almost black eyes held slight shock as he looked at you. His movements were sluggish and he didn't seem to fully comprehend what was happening.
A clawed hand reached out to you and you simply looked at it as he gently beckoned you over. "Warm... P-please..." He slowly slithered over to you and you figured it was best to stay still. He pulled you close to him and snuggled up to the fur pelt around your smaller form. It was fairly large but compared to him it was barely anything. His arms held your waist close to his form and his tail followed, gently coiling around you and himself to try and keep warm.
His face snuggled into your neck, making you blush and pull your arms to your chest. He had turned you so that your face was pressed against his ice-cold chest. He hummed in content as he snuggled closer to you. "Thank youuu." He whispered and you once again just stayed quiet. The fire crackled and the wind howled gently, both of which eventually lulled you to sleep.
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Some time had passed before you finally woke up. The wind had quieted but the fire was burning... Stronger than you had left it? You carefully sat up and looked to the entrance of the cave. The snow had stopped but it left a thick layer behind. The sound of something shifting against the ground caught your attention and you turned around to see the naga from before.
His shoulders now garnished a massive fur pelt and his hair was pulled back. The both of you were watching each other before he moved towards you. You sat up properly and he leaned down to look at your face. It was slightly flushed from the cold and he just examined you.
"Um... Sorry for intruding." You spoke softly to him while glancing away from his curious gaze. He gently grabs your hips and pulls you close to his body again, kinda like before you had fallen asleep but instead, lifts you to his eye level. Your face flushed slightly as he simply examined you without a word.
"W-what are you doing?" You asked him. He seemed almost lost in thought before mumbling. "How can such a small creature exert so much heat..." your eyes looked up to see he had thin-framed glasses on before he set you down, going over to a small table and writing in a notebook. "Are you... studying me?"
He looked back to with his chin tilted upwards. "I'm studying humans to be exact. As a naga, it's hard for me to get information on them when they think that you're going to eat them." His cheeks suddenly flushed before turning away. "And I do apologize about the show I put on not long ago. The cold really gets to me and makes me act... Odd."
You shook your head. "No, it's fine. It seems like it was good that I was here when I was." He nodded his head before turning back to you. "Do you mind that I continue to study your anatomy and ask some questions?" You blushed gently and shook your head. "I suppose you can. I don't think I will be able to leave soon anyhow..." you said looking back to the cave entrance.
He, slithered, over to you and leaned down once more. "Now, please, tell me how you exert so much heat." He was holding a notebook and pen. "Well, I'm a warm-blood mammal so we tend to be warm. Humans usually have to wear clothes and furs much like you to help keep warm since we don't have the natural protection like a wolf does for example."
He wrote in his notes a little bit of what he told you before gently grabbing your arm to look at it. His fingers were turned sideways when he gently pulled on the hairs on your arm. "Does this not keep you warm enough?" You shook your head and he let your arm go, writing something else down before looking back to you. His clawed hands gently grabbed your jaw and tilted it so he could look at it.
A blush covered your cheeks as he brushed this thumb along the soft hairs on your jaw. He wrote something down and did a quick sketch before going back to observing before suddenly asking, "Could I study your lower anatomy?"
Your brows furrowed for a moment. "What do you mean?" He motions to your trousers and legs. "From here down." He said motioning to his own "lower half." Your face blushed some more before hesitantly nodding. "I... Suppose you can... It's a bit of a sensitive topic for humans..." He nodded his head but continued, hesitantly.
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Some time had past and a very odd feeling was coursing through both of you. You were heavily flustered and so was he. Cassius just finished writing/drawing in his notebook when he cleared his throat and looked up to you putting your underwear and pants back on. "Thank you... (Y/n). You taught me a lot today..." You looked up to him, still flushed, and nodded. "It was ah... No problem..." He looked back up to you with his own flushed cheeks.
He seemed like he wanted to say something but couldn't. "I should probably head home... Could I... Maybe come back to help you study humans more?"
--- 1188
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crossbowking · 3 years
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More Than Anything (Part 2)
(Click HERE to read More Than Anything Part 1)
Summary: (Set mid-season 6) The reader’s feelings towards the archer evolve, but a supply run that goes south threatens to destroy it all.
Request: “I’d love to see something w protective Daryl and some angst, maybe set at the start of their time in Alexandria w an established relationship?” - @pulplorrd
A/N: See, you'd think I would've learned after making you guys wait a year and a half for No Way Out Part 2, that I should probably FINISH my stories before actually posting the first part...yet, here we are, one month later lol I'm sorry for the wait but hopefully it's worth it!
Happy reading and let me know what you think :)
xx Jess
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Previously...
But as its grasp slipped away from around Tara’s arm, the walker’s deadweight, in turn, collapsed against you.
You lost your footing and fell backward.
Except the solidity of concrete never rushed up to meet you.
Instead, you were embraced by water, the tarp that’d laid across the motel pool coiling around your body as you sunk deeper and deeper into nothingness.
Now...
When the world ended, you’d accepted the idea of death — your death, specifically.
You knew that one day, your life would undoubtedly end — most likely at the hands of the dead, ripped to pieces, torn to shreds, the way so many others before you had been taken. But you’d always hoped your death would at least mean something — maybe laying your life on the line, sacrificing yourself so the people you loved could survive.
Something noble, something brave.
Not like this.
Before the fall, you’d managed to inhale a sharp breath — though once you’d submerged into the grimy pool water, the coldness, the darkness, the shock of it all, had zapped the air right out of your body. You were becoming increasingly aware of the tightness in your chest, the burning in your lungs as you struggled against the walker pressed against you, its weight sinking you further into the depths of the pool.
Then, the panic set in — your heart pounded against your ribcage, right alongside the immense pressure crushing your lungs. Glimpses of sunlight hung just above you, peeking through parts of the drifting tarp you frantically attempted to push aside. You were completely disoriented, your vision obscured by the murkiness surrounding you, floating specks only visible beneath the shattered light above.
When your back connected against the bottom of the deep end, you managed to wriggle out from under the dead’s listless body — though the tarp remained twisted around your limbs. No matter how hard you fought, how hard you struggled, you couldn’t free yourself from the suffocating material. You could’ve sworn you were caught in a dream, your movements lagging and sluggish as you thrashed beneath the surface.
It felt as though someone had reached their hand directly through the center of your chest, squeezing your insides in a vice-like grip. A tingling sensation crawled down your spine, settling atop your churning stomach as the throbbing behind your ears began to slow.
You were listening to your last heartbeats.
It became unbearable, the water threatening to force its way past your clamped lips, the simple need to breathe. A sharp stab of pain shot through you as the blackness in your vision intensified, pulsing reddish-white around the edges as the fire in your chest consumed you at last.
Then, with nothing else left to do, you inhaled.
You weren’t sure what happened next — everything felt faint and fuzzy and quiet. The darkness that lingered no longer struck fear in you — instead, it was warm, enveloping you in its arms like a long-lost lover. The silence was soothing as you drifted in the emptiness, like careless whispers and forgotten melodies. You were weightless, you were freed, you were everything and nothing all at once.
You were dying.
That you were sure of.
Yet much to your surprise, you weren’t afraid — no, instead…you felt at peace.
But the brevity of calm didn’t last as you were suddenly aware of a vague pressure, though it wasn’t all-consuming nor constant. It was distant at first, a feeling you could’ve easily brushed aside had it not begun to gradually grow in force, in vigor — a steady pounding, coming from the center of your chest, over and over again.
The warmth around you began to splinter, shattering like shards of glass, the fallout piercing your skin as it collapsed around you. The pain was deep and burning and you longed for just a moment ago when all you felt was the sweetness of oblivion. The pressure pounding against your chest increased, becoming the sole thing you could feel, the only thing you could focus on, the unwavering thuds drawing you back from whatever place you’d drifted off to.
In the next moment, you were awake.
Your body flailed, jolting upright, but you’d only managed to get an inch or two off the ground before water began to suddenly spurt from your mouth. Your eyes squeezed shut as you choked on the liquid, every nerve ending in your body red-hot. You were vaguely aware of hands, rough and calloused and familiar, gripping onto your arms and forcing you onto your side, the motion allowing the water leaving your lungs to flow easier.
You gasped a constricted breath, coughing harshly on the exhale, completely and entirely disoriented as to what in the fuck just happened. Your chest tightened as you spit up more water, your throat closing around the sensation as you fought for control of your breathing, the feeling of concrete against the side of your body grounding you.
When your coughs finally died down, the same hands from before grabbed onto your arms, pulling your deadweight upright, maneuvering your limp body as if you were a rag doll. You blinked your bleary eyes open, wincing from the sunlight directly above as you drew in shaky breaths.
And then you saw him.
Daryl knelt in front of you, his ragged breathing mirroring your own, soaking wet from head to toe. Strands of hair stuck against his forehead, droplets of water still dripping from the ends as he stared at you, wide-eyed, his expression a mixture of horror and shock — something you rarely witnessed when it came to the archer.
He was mouthing something — no, he was shouting something — but you couldn’t hear him. You couldn’t hear a damn word he was saying as you sat there, dazed and confused, wondering if what just happened actually happened.
His hold around your arms slipped away, his hands cradling either side of your face instead, tilting your head up and brushing your drenched hair back. He leaned forward a fraction, frantically studying your features, his haunted eyes bouncing back and forth between your own as though making sure you were there — really there.
The silence was becoming a little less resounding, the world around you gradually seeping back, though muffled and dull — but the way Daryl was looking at you, the apprehension in his gaze, shook something loose inside you. Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. You wanted to tell him it was okay — that you were okay — but damn it, why couldn’t you speak?
So instead, you slowly lifted your hands, weakly grasping onto Daryl’s wrists, the small motion all you could muster — you had to let him know you were here. He glanced down at your hands, a small huff of relief escaping him.
But when he looked back up, you noticed the moisture that’d built in the corners of his eyes.
Daryl’s hands slipped behind your head, holding you still as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead gently against yours.
You, on the other hand, silently thanked whatever God or higher power was out there for giving you one more moment like this.
When the archer pulled back, you spotted a red streak smeared across his forehead that hadn’t been there before. Your brow knitted together as he sat back on his haunches. You tried clearing your throat, the sensation burning the rawness that’d spread. “You’re —” you croaked, your voice sounding foreign. “— you’re bleeding, D.”
Daryl’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he lowered his gaze and unsheathed his hunting knife. “It ain’t mine,” he rasped, suddenly slicing a long strip of fabric off from the bottom of his dampened shirt and balling it in his fist, ringing out some of the water.
Before you knew what was happening, he was reaching forward, pressing the material gingerly against your forehead and wrapping it behind your head, tying the strip into a knot to keep it in place. You were surprised at the sting of pain you felt, unsure when you managed to cut your head open in the midst of what had happened — everything was still sort of…fuzzy.
The sound of a car door slamming drew your attention. You peeked out of the corner of your eye, spotting Tara jogging towards you, the car you’d driven to the motel running idle in the parking lot.
“They’re coming!” she called out, motioning towards something just behind Daryl.
You craned your neck, attempting to get a look, but before you could, the archer was looping his arms beneath your armpits and hefting you up to your feet. The world tilted unsteadily around you, and had it not been for Daryl’s hold, the ground would’ve surely rushed up to meet you.
“I got ya,” he rasped, slinging one of your arms across his shoulders, his grip snaking around your waist.
Tara appeared at your opposite side, slightly out of breath. “Welcome back, chicka,” she shot you a slightly strained smile before following Daryl’s lead and winding your other arm across her shoulders, keeping you propped upright between them.
You wanted to tell them you were fine, that you were more than capable of walking on your own — but your strength had depleted, your legs shook beneath you, and the shock was beginning to wear off, making all the little aches and pains in your body alarmingly obvious.
Then, you were moving.
They half-dragged, half-carried you across the stretch of concrete, hurrying towards the parking lot where Tara had left the car. You peeked over your shoulder, managing to get a glimpse of what you were leaving behind — the small herd from earlier had been taken down, their bodies splayed out sporadically on the other side of the pool. Some sporting knife wounds, others bullet holes. The pool itself was rippling, the water sloshing back and forth, air bubbles visible at the surface.
Some of the dead had followed you into the water.
Just beyond the pool, you spotted exactly what you were running from — another herd, three times the size of the first one, ambling in from the woods behind the motel, most likely drawn in by gunfire.
When you reached the car, Tara slipped away and jumped into the driver’s seat. Daryl flung open the back door and maneuvered you carefully inside. You grimaced as you inched further into the car, only stopping once your back was pressed up against the opposite door. The archer quickly slid in after you and slammed the door shut, grabbing onto the back of the driver’s seat as Tara peeled out of the parking lot.
The silence that followed rang heavy.
Your heart hammered against your chest, your breaths coming out slightly wheezy, almost like there was still some water left in your lungs. You met Tara’s eyes in the rearview mirror before she focused back on the road — you noticed then that the sleeves of her shirt, up to her elbows, were wet.
She’d helped drag your body out of the pool.
You glanced over at Daryl, the archer’s grip on the driver’s seat white-knuckled as he stared at the back of the headrest. Waves of tension rolled off him, the feeling nearly palpable. But his eyes flickered towards you a moment later, as though he felt you watching him, and some of the rigidity faded.
He wordlessly shuffled closer, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the door you leaned against. You were too tired and too sore to object, your body slumping against his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders — you thought for a brief moment that he was hugging you.
But instead, he wound your seatbelt around your body and locked it in place.
Daryl fell back against the seat beside you with a huff, keeping his gaze focused ahead, staring straight through the windshield. He didn’t look at you again — he remained still, like he was carved from stone. You weren’t even sure he was breathing. His arm just barely grazed the side of yours, but despite whatever hidden turmoil was surely happening inside of him, he made no effort to move away.
He needed time to process what happened — what almost happened.
But so did you.
You shifted, closing the small gap between you and resting your head against his shoulder, ignoring the way he stiffened. The material of his shirt was still damp and smelt like a mixture of chlorine and mildew from the murky pool water, but you couldn’t find it in you to pull away either.
You hadn't realized you’d dozed off until the archer gently shook you awake, the car now parked outside Alexandria’s makeshift infirmary.
You still felt weak and lethargic, but you managed to make your way inside without any help — although Daryl, silent and stoic as ever, remained at your side, his hand hovering over the small of your back.
The infirmary was quiet as Denise checked you over — Tara had gone to update Rick and the others on what happened, as well as distribute the supplies you’d managed to bring home. Daryl, on the other hand, paced — back and forth, like a caged animal, on the opposite side of the room. Almost like part of him desperately wanted to run, but a bigger part of himself needed to be there.
“Are you feeling any nausea? Confusion? Loss of basic motor skills?” Denise suddenly asked, breaking the silence that’d stretched on, looking up from the textbook she was reading from. She’d never dealt with an ‘almost drowning’, but had been able to scrounge up some old medical textbooks for help.
“Uh,” you cleared your throat, shaking your head once. “No. No, nothing like that.”
“Okay, good. Yeah, that’s good…” she murmured, mostly to herself, before flipping to the next page and skimming the stretch of words. “Besides your forehead, any other lacerations?” she looked up at you once more, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
“I don’t —” you shot Daryl a look, but he was too busy pacing to notice. “I don’t think so,” you shook your head again, your fingertips ghosting over the bandage Denise had patched your head up with.
“Good, good. We’ll want to keep an eye on that in case of infection,” she informed before flipping to the next page, mouthing the text to herself. “Okay, and any soreness?”
You grimaced as you sat up a little straighter. “Just — just right here mostly,” you admitted, motioning towards your center, below your chest.
Denise shut the textbook and placed it on the metal table you sat on top of. “Can you show me?”
Your brow knitted together but you obliged, sliding off the table and grabbing the hem of your shirt. You fought back a wince as you rolled the material up, stopping just below your chest, exposing your skin.
The first thing you noticed was the way the room suddenly stilled — you glanced up, spotting Daryl standing frozen across the way, pacing no longer. But he wasn’t staring at you — he was staring at your midsection, a look in his eyes you’d never seen before.
When you lowered your head, getting a good look at yourself for the first time, you realized exactly what he was seeing.
Bruises. Dark and discolored. Scattered down your sternum and along the center of your ribcage.
Your head snapped up at the sound of the front door slamming shut.
And Daryl was gone.
You tried to ignore the pinprick of tears that grew, the hurt that settled across your chest as you lowered your shirt back in place — but when Denise suddenly reached out and placed her hand on top of yours, patting it softly, your features crumpled.
Everything that happened seemed to catch up to you in that moment — the fear, the shock, what Daryl must’ve felt pulling your unmoving body out of the water. You’d nearly died. What would’ve happened if he hadn’t been able to bring you back? Would he have been the one to put you down when you undoubtedly turned? Or would Tara have done it — the act far too painful for the man you loved to follow through with.
The man you loved.
Denise wrapped her hand around yours, squeezing gently and drawing you back. “Hey, it’s okay,” she soothed.
You quickly swiped at the tears that slipped down your cheeks, huffing a hitched breath. “I know, I’m just —” you glanced up at the front door, hanging onto the foolish hope that it’d swing open once more. “I don’t know,” you finally mumbled, albeit defeatedly.
Denise followed your gaze, scoffing slightly. “Men suck,” she finally shrugged.
You sniffled softly before shaking your head. “Not that one,” you murmured fondly.
Denise squeezed your hand once more, shooting you a sympathetic smile before she pulled away. “It could’ve been worse — most people who have CPR done on them end up with broken ribs or punctured lungs. You, my friend, are one of the lucky ones.”
You inhaled a deep breath, fighting back a wince, the motion stretching your bruised body. “Thank you. For everything.”
Denise nodded before taking off her glasses, using the hem of her shirt to clean the lenses. “Y/N, I don’t mean to overstep my boundaries, but,” she paused, sliding her glasses back on as she regarded you seriously. “You smell like a sewer rat.”
You faltered, completely caught off guard by her statement before remembering that you were still wearing damp, swampy, pool water clothes. Then, despite everything, a laugh slipped past your lips, breaking the tension. You let out a hiss as the movement sent a wave of pain through you. “Ow, fuck, don’t make me laugh,” you bit back another chuckle, lightly swatting her arm.
Denise smiled before motioning towards the door. “Go home, shower, get some rest — Doctor’s orders,” she grinned, turning away and beginning to clean up her workstation.
You thanked her again before hobbling out of the infirmary.
As night drew near, most residents of Alexandria were already in their respective homes — you were grateful for that. You didn’t want to see anyone right now, their worry and endless questions something you were more than happy to put off until tomorrow.
When you made it back to the apartment you and Daryl shared, you were, yet again, fighting back feelings of disappointment — he wasn’t home. You felt a pinprick of worry, but knew he needed time and space to process whatever it was he was feeling.
And when he was ready, you would be too.
You walked through the kitchen, the morning you’d shared earlier feeling like a lifetime ago — the pan he’d used to make eggs, now dry, remained sitting on the counter. The bedroom was untouched, looking exactly how it had this morning, just the way you’d left it. You grabbed a fresh set of clothes before making your way into the master bathroom attached, ignoring the bone-deep tiredness settling over you.
Showering was a good call — the warm water rained down as you scrubbed your body of the muck that clung to you, being extra careful not to get the bandage on your head wet or make any sudden movements. When you were finished cleaning up, you stood beneath the shower head for a few minutes, eyes closed, inhaling the steam around you with deep, calming breaths.
You were okay. You were alive. You were here.
You shut off the water, stepped out of the shower, and dried yourself off, gingerly patting down your chest and around your ribs, before slipping into clean clothes. You wiped away some of the steam that’d collected on the bathroom mirror before hanging up your towel, combing out your knotted hair, and brushing your teeth — the same routine you did every night.
The normalcy was soothing — you were already beginning to feel better, more like yourself. You were ready to put what happened behind you and move forward, sure to never take another day for granted.
But when you opened the bathroom door, ready to curl up in bed and doze off, all of your feelings from earlier came rushing back at the sight of Daryl.
Once again, he’d been pacing the length of the bedroom, only stopping after you’d entered the room, his gaze snapping towards you. He shifted his weight back and forth, opening his mouth before clamping it shut. You could feel his energy, rolling off his body in waves — tense, rigid, wild. He was struggling to say whatever was on his mind, only furthering his evident frustration. He flicked his hair away from his eyes, turning to face you head-on, clearly gathering up the gall to speak.
You took a small step forward. “Daryl —”
“Ya were blue,” he suddenly rasped, a fire in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Tara was shoutin’ for ya an’ I — when I went in an’ pulled ya out, there wasn’t — I didn’t —” he huffed a breath in frustration, his face tinged red. “God, damn it, Y/N, ya were fuckin’ blue,” he finally growled, chest heaving, hands balled into fists at his side.
His anger wasn’t directed at you, but the situation itself, you knew that. But still, his words — or more so the emotion, the truth hidden behind them — had you recoiling from him, your heart breaking at the thought of what he’d seen, of what had run through his mind when he realized you weren’t breathing.
You couldn’t imagine how scared he must have been.
And that was what was beneath his outburst — not rage, but fear.
But he wasn’t finished with what he needed to say — if anything, he was just getting more and more worked up as he began to frantically pace once more. “This is why — I fuckin’ told ya — I didn’t need ya comin’ out there. I didn’t need ya on that run but ya — ya didn’t listen ta’ me an’ then —”
“I love you.”
Daryl stilled, mid-stride, his gaze widening as if all of the air had been sucked from his lungs.
You felt your face flush, the air between you so thick it could be cut with a knife. You hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but the words just sort of…tumbled out? And now, there they were, hanging between you. Part of you wondered if the archer could hear your heart pounding from where he stood — or maybe it was his heartbeat, synched up to yours.
You sputtered a soft breath, shaking your head in disbelief, trying not to panic because the last thing you wanted was for Daryl to look at you the way he was looking at you after telling him you loved him. “I’m —“ you took a breath, regarding him earnestly. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. And I promise — I promise — you do not have to say it back. Hell, you don’t even have to feel the same way,” you huffed an awkward laugh, but the noise hitched somewhere in your throat, betraying your words. You grew serious once more. “I just — I couldn’t have another night going by without you knowing. Not after what happened today,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, shrugging a shoulder up meekly. “So, I love you — I love you more than anything.”
You weren’t sure what sort of reaction you were expecting from him. But you absolutely refused to acknowledge the tiny part of you that secretly wished he’d swoop you into his arms, pull you close, tell you he loved you too — because that wasn’t Daryl. That wasn’t the type of man he was — and you were okay with that.
Because you hadn’t fallen in love with that type of man.
You’d fallen in love with the man standing shell-shocked in front of you.
You cleared your throat and stepped forward, moving away from the bathroom doorway. “The shower’s all yours,” you murmured, needing to break the uncomfortable silence that carried on.
You sidestepped around his frozen form, ignoring the way your legs shook like jelly beneath you as you made your way towards the bed. You took a seat on the edge of the mattress, keeping your back towards him, staring ahead at the blank wall in front of you instead.
After what felt like forever, the floorboard squeaked beneath the shifting of his weight, his footsteps growing faint as he slowly walked away and entered the bathroom, closing the door shut after him.
You strained your ears, listening for any movement beyond the door he’d disappeared behind — but you heard nothing. It was like you could feel him through the panel of wood between you — you could almost picture him, just standing there, trying to process whatever the hell was going on inside that mind of his.
A moment later, the shower turned on.
And you released the breath you’d been holding.
Exhaustion swept through you, the day’s events wearing you down. You carefully maneuvered yourself into bed, pulling a thin sheet over your body and settling onto your side. Your eyelids grew heavy, the sound of the shower lulling you to sleep despite the strange, sort of freedom your admittance had brought you, the feeling buzzing through your veins.
You didn’t regret your vulnerability — he needed to know he was loved, damn it.
When you heard the shower turn off, you snapped your eyes shut. You listened to the archer move about the bathroom until the door finally creaked open. He seemed to be just standing there, and you could’ve sworn you felt him staring at the back of your head as if he was gauging whether or not you were actually asleep. But a moment later, you heard his footsteps padding across the bedroom before the mattress dipped beneath him.
You held your breath, covers drawn to your chin as Daryl shifted in bed, eventually lying down beside you. Another beat of quiet passed, neither of you moving, nor breathing it seemed.
But then suddenly, you heard him speak, so softly you almost missed it. “I know ya ain’t sleepin’,” he rumbled.
The corner of your mouth quirked up — because of course he knew.
You sighed, shifting gingerly onto your back, the sheet pooling at your waist as you looked over at him. He laid on his side, facing you, propped up on his elbow. He was dressed in clean clothes, his hair still wet from the shower, pushed back out of his face.
He really was rather beautiful.
“Busted,” you smiled, though the archer’s expression remained solemn.
Ever so gently, he reached towards you, his fingertip grazing the material of your shirt, over your ribcage, below your chest, hovering the bruises that lingered. “Does it hurt?” he rasped, the mouth turned downward into a small frown.
You shook your head. “Not really.”
Daryl’s eyes met yours, his expression skeptical and knowing.
You never were a good liar.
“At least you didn’t break a rib?” you offered sheepishly, your lame attempt at a joke falling flat given the current audience.
But when Daryl’s features fell, a flash of what looked like guilt settling over his face, you placed your hand on top of his, resting them against your stomach. “Don’t do that,” you murmured, reading him like a damn book as you rubbed circles with your thumb over the back of his hand.
The archer grumbled something indistinct, staring down at your intertwined hands.
Your grip tightened around his. “I mean it,” you spoke, an edge to your voice, only softening when he looked at you instead. “You saved my life, D — that’s it. You can let go of anything else you’re holding onto.”
Daryl’s lip twitched as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, seemingly mulling over your words.
You were sure he’d hang onto whatever unnecessary guilt he carried — because that was just who he was — but eventually, he nodded once and settled down on his back, staring up at the ceiling. You were too tired to press the subject further so you curled into his side and rested your head against his chest, winding your arm across his midsection. His arm automatically wrapped around you, his fingertips trailing absently up and down your spine, sending shivers through your body.
You weren’t sure how long you laid like that, melting into the warmth he exuded, the steady pounding of his heartbeat easing you to sleep.
You’d nearly faded away when Daryl suddenly spoke.
“Did ya mean it?” he rumbled, the noise vibrating from deep within his chest. “What ya said before?” he grunted, his hand pausing at the small of your back.
You could’ve imagined it, but you almost felt the slight tremble of his fingertips against your skin.
You slowly pushed up onto your elbow, your faces mere inches apart. You searched his uncertain gaze, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Of course I meant it,” you whispered. “Every damn word.”
Daryl’s eyes narrowed, as though not entirely believing what you said could be true.
So you leaned forward, closing the remainder of space between you, and pressed your lips gently against his. He returned the kiss, a quiet desperation growing as one hand came up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb sweeping back and forth across your cheek. You broke away from the kiss, brushing his hair back before meeting his lips once more, settling your hand on his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath your touch.
When you pulled back, you noticed his skin flush, surely mirroring your own. He looked up at you, slightly breathless, a fondness in his gaze that sent your stomach somersaulting. He cleared his throat, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face. “Well, alright,” he finally resigned, accepting your answer to his question.
You snorted a breathy laugh, leaning forward and kissing his cheek before burrowing against him. A soft sigh slipped past your lips as Daryl’s hold tightened around you, as though afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t.
You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of contentment, unsure how many more moments like this you, or anyone else for that matter, had left in this kind of cruel and harrowing world.
But for at least tonight, you could be at peace.
“I love you,” you murmured groggily, beginning to sink deeper into unconsciousness.
Right before sleep came, long after Daryl thought you’d drifted away, you heard him whisper three, simple words.
“More than anythin’.”
Then he pulled you closer and the world dimmed.
A/N: Aw...a happy ending! (I figured I owed ya after putting y'all through Honey & Whiskey lol)
P.S. Feedback is incredibly important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Also, please consider donating to my Tip Jar. Every little bit helps!
P.S.S. I can no longer tag people on this account, so my tag list has been transferred to my side blog @crossbowking2. If you’d like to be added/removed, please let me know!
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Sweet Kitty
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Hybrid!Park Jimin X Reader
Word count: 4.5k
AN: ok guys this ones gonna be a little bit of a slowburn. The classic reader finds a hybrid and takes them home. I hope you like!
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It had already been a long day when you got distracted while dragging yourself home. Your day started with your only 8 am class of the week, you were late of course, keeping you from your daily caffeine dose. It all got worse when you left your college campus for the diner you worked at. Immediately upon entrance, you were bowled over by a coworker practically begging you to take the last three hours of her shift. Agreeing to take the shift from her, you set about getting ready for that was now a closing shift.
Of course by the time you flick off the lights and lock the door, it was dark and started to drizzle. Pulling your jacket tighter around yourself, you step out into the street, starting the 5 block trek to your apartment.
The first thing that caught your attention as you neared your home, was a quiet whimpering. Quickly you stop in your tracks, looking around the damp area. For a moment the darkened street was silent, before a barely audible whine came from a dark expanse of alley jutting from the street to your left.
Staying in the entrance of the alley you peer in looking for the creature making the noises. In the dim lighting you could make out the sight of a pair of dumpsters surrounded by trash, sitting a few feet from a brick wall dead end. In front of them laid what looked like a pile of cardboard boxes. One of the boxes had something dark dangling out of it. At first you couldn't see anything that could be making that noise.
Another whimper had you taking a couple steps towards the wet boxes in front of you.
“Hello?” you called out into the dark tentatively. There was no response, but the quiet whimpers started up again.
You shoot a glance back out into the street considering your options. Going wandering down dark alleys in the middle of the night was a bad idea, but what if someone was hurt.
Steeling yourself with a deep breath, you slowly pick your way down the alleyway following the noises. All of your senses on red alert, you had to be careful. As you neared the boxes, you quickly realized that a dirty cat tail was hanging limply out of one of them. The stiffness in your shoulders leaks out as the realization that it's probably an animal that needs help.
Crouching, you peek into the dirty damp cardboard, fully expecting to see a kitty curled up in it. Instead you end up coming face to face with a hybrid.
You slap your hand over your mouth, effectively cutting off any noise you were about to make in surprise. Hybrids aren't exceptionally rare, but really only well off families could afford them. There weren't a lot of them just wandering the streets so this was unusual.
This one didn't exactly look like he’d come from a nice house though, or at least hadn’t been in one for a while. His clothes were dirty and appeared threadbare in places. They had run ragged around his wrists and ankles. Blood dripped down from his shoulder and down his arm staining the fabric a dark red. A long matted tail hung out from underneath where he was laying on the cardboard.
Your eyes trailed up the man’s skinny figure, up to his thin face. A fairly large cut was opened above his eyebrow, slowly weeping blood down his overly pronounced cheekbones. The cat hybrid’s eyes were closed but fluttered lightly as he made small noises in the back of his throat. His dirt covered ears pinned back in what you assumed to be pain.
Through all the dirt, blood, and obvious malnutrition, he looked small and almost soft. Honestly, how could anyone do this to him? It took all of two seconds to make your mind up to help him. You gave the hybrid a long moment of consideration, before you took the last few steps to reach the boxes. Leaning near you lightly touched his shoulder.
The effect was instantaneous. His body flinched away from you violently. The hybrid’s ears flipped forward to face you then immediately laid flat back again. His eyes snapped open, pupils blown wide with fear, they seemed unfocused, and whipped around wildly looking for danger. Another heart wrenching whine was released from his throat.
Pulling back you murmur soft comforting phrases, trying to assure the terrified hybrid. His nostrils flare as he takes a deep shuddering breath. The cat hybrid’s eyes finally seem to focus on you, scouring your face in an instant.
After a moment of staring between you, he seems to come to some sort of decision. He slides his eyes closed once more, and bends his head towards you seemingly resigned to allowing you to do as you wish. He’d seem almost calm if it weren't for the shaking of his form, and the ragged breaths that tore up his throat.
It’s cold out, and his injuries needed to be tended to. If you left him here, he wouldn't last much longer, you’d have to bring him home with you.
“Alright, come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” you whispered to him, trying to keep the tremble out of your voice. You reach for his arm again, this time gently grabbing it. Your fingers wrap all the way around the thin limb.
Lightly you start pulling him out of the wet cardboard. You were afraid that he might resist or lash out at you, but he didn’t seem to have any fight left in him. He just sort of resigned himself to whatever you were intending to do with him.
You were able to pull the hybrid into sort of a crouching position. Several of the movements caused deeper, more draw out whines to escape him. The hybrid didn’t stop you while you placed your other hand on his elbow, pulling him into an upright position. The hybrid leaned on you heavily, his legs wobbling as you held him up.
The first couple of steps were difficult, and shaky as you murmured encouragement and praises to the man. He limped heavily to one side showing you there was something wrong with the leg. After about a minute he seemed a little more inclined to help, and didn’t weigh on you quite as heavily.
It took some time, but eventually you were able to get the hybrid to the front steps of your apartment building, and inside.
The light of the lobby showed just how much blood and dirt covered the man, and his clothes. Some of it had started to dry and harden to him. Other spots still oozed the thick red fluid. Underneath it all you could now see just how pale and exhausted he looked.
Thankfully it was late enough that the secretary for the building had left for the night leaving the lobby empty. This allowed you to avoid any strange conversations as you pulled the hybrid past the front desk and to the elevators behind it. Without setting the man down, you hit the button with your elbow.
You're lucky once more, with how late it is the elevator only took a couple of moments before opening with a ding. It wasn’t hard to pull him into the contraption, but as you stop to hit the button for your floor, you could feel him start to shake harder.
“We are almost there.” you assure the hybrid trying to calm him some.
A few minutes later you’re pulling the partially unresponsive hybrid into your two bedroom apartment. Bypassing your living room and kitchen, you drag him down the hallway into our bathroom. Carefully you settle him down on the floor, and lean him against the tub wall.
“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” You told him, and spun on our heel leaving in search of the first aid kit you kept in the hallway closet. While in there you also snagged a couple of extra towels and a whole box of Band-Aids.
By the time you make it back to the bathroom, the hybrid appears a little more conscious. He was sitting a bit straighter, his tail clutched between his hands as he messed with the fur. His eyes wide with fear blinked up at you when the door opened.
“I’m just here to help, I promise,” you reassured the hybrid gently. Slowly you crouch in front of him trying to get a better view of his forehead. You could tell it was still sort of bleeding, but with all the dirt and dried blood it was difficult to tell where the cut started. You’d likely have to get him cleaned up before you could do anything meaningful about his wounds. He flinched violently when you carefully pressed a clean cloth on the wound, but didn’t move otherwise. After a few minutes you’re at least able to get the bleeding to stop.
Tearing your eyes from his injured forehead, you glance down, locking eyes with the man. He studied your face with an intensity that made you squirm slightly. You could tell he was sort of sizing you up. It was as if he expected you to do something, and was ready for whatever it was.
“Well, it’ll be difficult to do anything about your injuries till we get you cleaned up. Do you want to take a shower?” you asked the hybrid in front you.
His body jerked in surprise, his eyes somehow widening even further, apparently that was not what he had been expecting of you. He refused to speak but did respond with a stilted nod that left him wincing in pain.
Pushing yourself up, you cross to the front of the tub. He listens intently as you explain the different knobs, and what soaps to use.
“Do you need anything else?” you ask, lightly helping the man into a standing position. He quickly shook his head in response.
“I’ll bring you some fresh clothes.” you told him as you started towards the door. Warm fingers snaked around your wrist lightly. He pulled enough to stop you without actually pulling you back. This time when you turned to look at him, he kept his eyes firmly on the floor.
“Thank you.” he said quietly, his voice raspy almost like it was overused.
“Of course!” You immediately exclaimed with a nod. The hybrid looked up just in time to see a sweet smile come across your face. He released your hand then, allowing you to finally leave your bathroom.
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The first thing you did was change out of your now dirty work clothes, and into some comfortable pajamas. Looking through your closet, you pulled out some basketball shorts your ex left, and an oversized t-shirt. With a pair of scissors you cut hole in the back of them around where the hybrid’s spine would end for his tail. After a second thought, you grabbed a sweatshirt you wore often. It was your largest, even though he wasn’t much taller than you and was basically just skin and bones, you thought he deserved something soft and comfortable.
Carefully you slid the bathroom door open just enough to shove the clothes in. some steam escaped, showing just how hot he had the water at.
Your next task was getting some food into the poor boy. He looked so skinny, you should go with something that wouldn’t be too heavy on his stomach. Flitting around the kitchen, you get some soup started on the stove. It was just a simple chicken noodle soup recipe. Chicken, noodles, stock, and some vegetables you had chopped up originally for stir fry all went into the pot. Humming you bounced between the stove, and setting two places at the table.
Lost in your own world, you missed the sound of the shower turning off, then later the sound of the door opening. You got quite the fright when you turned, silverware in hand, and a now clean hybrid was standing in front of you wearing the shorts and shirt you left him staring at you.
A startled squeak slipped past your lips when you jumped. At the noise the man’s ears pinned back, and his eyes dropped back to the floor.
“It’s ok, you just startled me.” you reassured him, hands raised. “Are you hungry?” he responded with a short single nod. With a happy smile you went back to setting the table, and finishing the soup.
Before long, you were ladling the hot liquid into two bowls you put on the tale. Carefully you place the pot onto the pad in the middle of the table, and sit at one end looking expectantly up at the hybrid. He still stood in the doorway, head down, but now his tail sat in his hands as he carded his fingers through the fur. The sweatshirt you left him was slung over his shoulder.
After the shower, his fur proved to be much fluffier than you had expected. It was a lovely light tan that turned almost cream color in some spots without all that dirt covering it. Unfortunately there still appeared to be some tangles among the fluff, but those could be brushed out later.
“Aren't you going to sit down and have some?” you asked, confused as to why he continued to stand there,
“Sit… at the table?” his head snapped up to stare at you as the words tumbled from his open mouth. In his seemingly shocked state you were able to finally get a good look at his face now washed.
The hybrid was pale, and his cheeks sunken in from malnutrition. The wound over his eyebrow had stopped bleeding but the area around it was all red and angry. You could tell he’d been on the street for a while, and was exhausted if the circles underneath his eyes were anything to go by.
Despite all of this, the male across from you was handsome. He had nice full lips and high cheekbones underneath wide brown eyes, his hair, now clean, was a lovely light blonde color. Although it was shaggy, a little tangled, and definitely in need of a cut. Then at the top of his head stood a pair of fluffy ears with the same coloration as his tail.
After a long moment of staring between the two of you, he limped over and pulled out the chair opposite of you, and hesitantly sat down in it. He glanced up at you again, maybe waiting for you to start. With another reassuring smile, you grab your spoon and dig in. Once the first spoonful hit your mouth, he snatched up his spoon and started in on his food too.
The first couple of spoonfuls he started slow, but after that he tucked in with much more gusto. He made happy little noises as he dug into the hot broth. It took him only minutes to finish off the bowl, even tipping it back to get the rest of the liquid. His ears drooped slightly as he sat back and looked into his empty bowl forlornly.
“If you’re still hungry, have some more, there’s plenty.” you told him with a giggle, gesturing to the pot.
“N-no, I’m alright.” he stuttered out. The strange flick his tail did, and the look in his eyes told you differently.
“It’s ok, there’s plenty,” you responded, standing to ladle more into his bowl. This time he wasted no time tucking in and scarfing it down.
“So, my name is (Y/N), what’s yours?” you asked politely. You thought it was about time that you learned something about what was going on.
“My name?” he pondered for a moment before answering. “I’m Park Jimin,” he gave a short bow from his seat with the response.
“Park Jimin,” you repeated thoughtfully. “I like it!” you decided with a smile.
A beautiful smile lit up his face the moment the words left your mouth. His thick lips pulled back in a sweet smile that showed his teeth, and turned his eyes into little crescent moons. A light dusting of pink settled onto Jimin’s cheeks as he ducked his head and went back to his soup.
The moment you saw Park Jimin’s smile you knew you were a goner. With the appearance of that smile came the realization that you’d do just about anything to keep it on his face.
You observe him quietly while you finish your own bowl, Jimin however had another two. He looked up gratefully at you when ladled more into his bowl each time, his tail flicking back and forth. Around the middle of his fourth bowl, both his tail and his eyelids had started to droop. The hybrid looked sleepier and sleepier as time went on, but you wanted to deal with his wounds before you settle him in for the night.
Trying not to startle him, you stood slowly, gathering the dirty dishes from the table. When Jimin noticed you cleaning up, he hopped out of his seat and snatched his own dishes off the table before you could grab them too. With big eyes, he stood looking at you, waiting for you to make a move. He followed you like a shadow into the kitchen, immediately placing his dishes next to the sink with your own.
The hybrid then ignores your movement to return to the bathroom, and instead turns to the sink turning it on.
“Leave that for now, I’ll take care of it later.” You tell him turning the sink back off, holding your hand out to him.
Jimin’s ears go back again as he stares at you in confusion.
“You- I-?” he sputtered for a moment, eyes flicking between your face and your hand. “Shouldn’t I do it?” He finishes lightly placing his hand in yours.
“I’m a big girl, I can wash my own dishes,” you giggle, gently pulling him back to the bathroom. A look of utter confusion passed over his face, but he allowed you to tug him along.
You walked him back to the bathroom, taking care to go slowly so he could limp along without too much trouble.
Once there , you settle Jimin down on the edge of the tub, and open up the first aid kit. Flipping the lid open, you pull out a spray antiseptic.
“This is gonna sting a little.” you warned as you pushed back the tan strands of hair that flopped over his forehead as they dried. Now clean the cut above his eyebrow looked a bit smaller, and the edges looked clean like it had been done with something very sharp.
Carefully you sprayed the antiseptic over the slash mark, making Jimin wince as he gasped sharply.
“Sorry… Sorry,” you whisper, pulling a piece of gauze out of the kit on the counter, you lightly press the gauze to his forehead with one hand, using the other to attach it with medical tape. Once it seems secure, you take a step back to admire your work.
Jimin stared up at you with curious eyes, sleepiness seemingly entirely forgotten for the time being.
“Alright, now for the shoulder, shirt off.” you said with a gesture to the piece of clothing.
The hybrid stared at you for a long long moment, seeming to study you. It took a little for you to even realize why.
“Oh, I mean only if you’re comfortable…” you tried to back track. The tell tale feeling of warmth of a blush flooding your cheeks.
He then gave you a small nod, and began pulling the shirt over his head, wincing as he moved his shoulder up.
A gasp passed your lips as the true extent of the damage done to Jimin’s body was revealed. His malnutrition was even more obvious with the sight of his clearly visible ribs, the skin clung tightly to each one all the way down to his stomach slightly distended with the weight of the meal he’d just had. His hip and collar bones stuck out sharply showing once more how long it had been since he had a good one.
Bruises of various states of healing dotted up and down his emaciated form. Scars joined the mixture here and there across the expanse of pale skin some more healed than others.
Tearing your eyes from the hybrid’s chest, you moved to take a look at his battered arms. They were also dotted with bruises, but at the top of his arm and around his shoulder was a large patch of marred skin. It looked like he’d likely skidded across the ground on it. You could see bits of gravel still embedded in the skin, some parts still damp with spots of blood, others had already started to scab over. Lightly you pulled on his arm to turn his body to give you more access. This also gives you a view of his back.
“Oh, honey…” you breathed out in shock, nausea rose in you as your eye’s raked down his pale skin. His back was somehow even more mutilated than the rest of him. Thin, ropey scars crisscross across it in no apparent pattern. Thankfully even the newest ones looked mostly scarred over, like it had been a while since he’d gotten them.
Before you could think, you lightly dragged a finger down a raised line of skin. Jimin released a shuddered breath causing you to jerk back away from the injuries.
“I was bad a lot.” he whispered without turning to look at you. For a moment you stared dumbly at the back of his head before you realized what he meant.
“What? You meant these are punishments?” you asked shocked.
The cat hybrid didn’t respond at first, his breath rattled through his chest. It took a moment but eventually he gave a stiff nod. Suddenly his behavior through the night started to make sense. You didn’t know how much abusive bullshit they filled his head with.
“Oh Jimin, you don’t deserve anything like this.” you told him, tears starting to form in your eyes. Hesitantly you reach for him shaking, but you stop, hands hovering over his skin. Faint warmth radiated off as you looked over the expanse of marred skin on his back. Honestly you couldn’t tell if the hybrid was shaking more or if you were.
A loud sniffle escapes you, as you rub away a couple of tears tracking their way down your face. Jimin’s ears flick back towards you at the noise, and he whirls around to look at you.
His eyebrows pulled together tightly over eyes that studied you again with an intensity that had you dropping your hands into your lap. Jimin’s eyes search your face, following the tracks left by your tears. After a moment he broke your impromptu staring contest, drooping as he turned his face to the side.
“ Why are you crying?” he asks, not looking at you. His voice then gets really small. “I was naughty, it was my punishment.” The hybrid’s tan tail stays low but swishes side to side fast behind him.
“No no no, you don’t deserve this.” You move to reassure him, kneeling down on the floor in front of Jimin. He notices this, looking down at you as you sit and continue on, “ nothing you could ever do, would make it ok for them to do that to you.” By the end of your sentence your voice had started to waver. Jimin was fully looking at you by this point, mouth dropped open in shock.
It’s only a moment before his face crumples into tears. Quickly you pull the cat hybrid off of the tub rim, and into your arms. He startles, stiffening at first, before melting into your arms. His body trembles hard in your arms as he buries his face in your neck. You start rubbing his back slowly trying to calm him.
It took a while to get him to stop shaking, and even longer for his sniffles to slow. Pulling away carefully as his breathing calms, you raise a hand to wipe at the tear tracks covering his face as well now. Jimin just blinks slowly at you, pure exhaustion written all over his face. It’s definitely time to get him cleaned up and in bed.
“Come on, up.” you tell him, pulling him up as you stand. The hybrid’s eyes and tail are clearly drooping in sleepiness when you settle him back on the tub side. “I’ll finish cleaning you up. Then we can go to bed.”
Carefully you patch up both his shoulder and several large slices around his leg. All of the cuts appeared to be done with a knife like his face had. The questions you had about them could wait at least the night, while Jimin’s emotions were obviously still raw.
By the time you finish, he is clearly nodding off, jerking himself awake every few moments. When you move back to put your first aid stuff in the box, the hybrid’s big brown eyes blink blurrily up at you. His left hand raised to rub at his still somewhat red and blotchy face. Grabbing his hand, you pull him into a standing position, and help him put his shirt back on without messing with his wrapping too much.
“Alright, I have a guest bedroom that is all yours for the night.” you tell him, gently pulling him from the bathroom. In the same hallway were two doors, one being your room which you pointed out to him, the other being the guest room you were leading him to.
Opening the door, you help him hobble inside, holding onto his uninjured arm. You deposit him on the bed, and help him under the covers. Reaching over to a little side table situated next to the bed, you flick in a small lamp sitting on top. The dim light shows a sparsely decorated room.
The walls of the room were a pretty light blue color, but other than the bed and the table. The only furniture in the room was a dresser. A closet juts out into the room next to the entrance, a pair of large full body mirrors work as the sliding doors to it. Honestly the room was mostly set up for when your brother came into town, which you’re thankful for now.
Once Jimin was settled into bed, eyelids already falling, you straighten up, leaving the dim light on just in case. You sneak out of the room, leaving the door cracked, to let the exhausted hybrid sleep.
Quietly you go about cleaning up the remnants of your dinner. After taking care of the dishes, you turn in for the night as well.
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AN: alright guys let me know what you think. And if you want another chapter!
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twilights-posts · 3 years
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Tutoring (Smut)
I've found this on my laptop and wanted to share this with y'all. Please remember, it was originally written in German and translated. Contact me if something doesn't make sense. Thanks!
Summary: You have a history test coming up and Jared decided to help you study. Tough, the only thing on your mind has nothing to do with history.
Tags: 18+, smut, fingering, fem!reader, Jared
We were sitting in my kitchen trying to focus on my upcoming history test. Jared had told me in school that he would help me because history is the most boring thing ever for me. Being in the kitchen together now, though, with his hand on my thigh and his breath on my skin, history was much more exciting.
"The first half of the 19th century saw important social and economic changes that fostered the later industrial boom. One of the most important factors in this was the railroad ..." he told me, and you could see the passion written all over his face. But I switched off at some point and pictured in my mind how his big hand wandered up my thigh, under my skirt and then-
"Are you listening to me?" asked Jared a little louder. With big innocent eyes, I looked at him nodding.
"Of course, industrialization came about because of the railroad," I announced confidently.
"And who invented the railroad?"
"You didn't say."
With furrowed brows I looked at the worksheet, maybe that would give me answers, but all I got were questions.
"Yes, I did," he laughed. I looked up at him smiling, even sitting down he was taller than me. My eyes swept over his face and lingered on his full lips. Images of his lips kissing my neck, my breasts, my nipples and moving lower and lower, um....
"You're so absent today, what's going on?" he snapped me out of my fantasies again. Smiling, I shook my head, not letting on that he had a lot less clothes on in my head.
"Nothing, it's all good. It's just history," I said lightheartedly, contorting my face to let him know how averse I was to the subject. He nodded slowly, not seeming to believe me.
"You know you can tell me anything, right? I'd love to help you or even just listen. Just tell me what you need," Jared expressed lovingly, stroking my thigh with his hand. My skirt pushed up slightly as a result. He's so sweet, if only he knew that the only thing I needed right now was his tongue on my clit.
I smiled broadly at the thought, leaned over and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.
"I'm fine, I just need a break," I whispered to him. Light-footed, I jumped off the stool and walked over to the fridge. That's when I got the idea to heaten him up a bit so we could get away from studying.
I looked over my shoulder at him and asked if he wanted a drink. There was no need to grab the soda from the last compartment, but it gave him a chance to peek under my skirt. Since I was wearing shorts underneath anyway, he wouldn't see too much, but he wouldn't need to for now.
When I turned back to him, he looked up shamefully. I pretended not to notice and held the can out to him.
"Do you need a glass?"
"No, I'm good."
I tried to jump casually on the counter, but I had overestimated my weak arms and was struggling badly. Jared chuckled as he watched me do it.
"Need a hand?" he finally offered.
"Please."
He stood up, took the few steps to me, and grasped my waist. With ease, he lifted me up and set me down. Jared continued to stand in front of me, looking at me with amusement. I recognized the affection in his eyes, could only smile because of it.
"Maybe you should work out more," he suggested after a few seconds.
"If you help me with that," I said absently. Right now my hormones were going crazy and I just wanted to kiss him. My legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer to me. If only there were less clothes ...
Jared swallowed nervously. My hands stroked through his hair, finding their place on his neck. I moved closer to his face, anticipation flooding me. His dark eyes looked at me expectantly. A mischievous smile was on his face.
Just before our lips touched, he pulled back slightly.
"You know I've been dreaming about this."
I smirked at this confession. I hadn't been expecting that.
"Oh yeah, about what exactly?", I probed.
Jared leaned forward, past my face, and ran his nose up the curve of my neck.
"I dreamed about your legs wrapped around my waist."
"What else were you dreaming about?"
"how I' m pushing up that stupid skirt of
yours," he murmured against my ear, pressing his lips behind it.
I exhaled shakily, the throbbing inside me making itself known, and I could feel myself getting wet at the idea.
"It's my favorite skirt," I still tried to answer casually. He chuckled lightly.
"You can leave it on while we do it."
My eyes closed and I imagined how he would take me while I had only the skirt on. At this point I didn't need any foreplay, but he was about to suck on the delicate spot on my neck, so I didn't stop him.
His hands went under my skirt and stroked through the shorts over my most sensitive spot. He took his time, doing everything gently and carefully, but I had no patience for it and certainly no time. My parents would be home in thirty-four minutes.
I pulled his face up and pressed my lips to his. Greedily our lips moved together, soon I felt his tongue and sighed pleasantly. Jared slowed down the kiss, but not the intensity. It was as if we hadn't seen each other in days. He was visibly enjoying the moment. The hand that wasn't fridging me through my pants cupped my breast. His thumb circled around my nipple. Sometimes he pinched them through the shirt, then stroked them apologetically.
Jared never struck me as the ladies' man, but he obviously had experience.
As the pressure on my shorts increased, I moaned softly. After I released his lips, he stepped back a bit. Both hands went into the waistband of my shorts and pulled it down along with the briefs. I lifted my hips to help him. As promised, he left my skirt on.
His fingers stroked up my calves, snaked up the inside of my thighs, and paused at the hollow between my leg and hip.
I pulled back briefly to look him in the eye.
"Would you wash your hands first?" apologetically, I stroked his shoulders. I was afraid of ruining the mood or having to explain myself. He just nodded and went to the sink. Relieved, I leaned back on my arms. When Jared turned back to me, I opened my legs a little wider. He stopped and eyed me.
Challenging 'em, I spread them open wider, his view blocked by the skirt, but not diminishing the effect. I noticed the bulge in his pants and felt bad for not giving him any attention so far.
"Come here.", I said softly and extended a hand to him. Without further hesitation, he was back within my reach. I pressed my lips to his neck now and ran my hand down to his penis. Stroking over the shorts, I lightly nibbled at his skin. In turn, he stroked the inside of my thighs. He was damn close to my private parts. Unlike him, I wasn't as patient and was about to pull his pants off.
Surprised, I looked up at him as he put his hands on mine to stop me.
"Not yet:" was all he said. His voice was unfamiliar smoky, but led to more tingling sensations in my bottom.
Jared furrowed two fingers over my labia and distracted me with a gentle kiss. Agonizingly slowly, he ran his fingers once around and past my pleasure spot.
"God, you're so wet," he gasped. I resisted the urge to grimace.
"I don't like that kind of dirty talking," I explained to him carefully.
"Oh, okay. What kind then?" He looked at me intently, but the movements of his fingers distracted me somewhat. It seemed like he was looking for something-
"How about we focus on one thing first."
I kissed him again, because we were good at that. Along the way, my hand wrapped around his and guided him firmly to the point where I needed him. Almost immediately, his finger began to gently draw circles.
"Right there.", I sighed against his mouth and dropped my head onto his shoulders. Jared's other hand continued up and down my thigh. I now had my arms around his neck, so he could work undisturbed.
He was consistent and patient. I had already noticed this in the last few weeks of our relationship, but now I really realized the importance of these qualities. As if on their own, my legs spread out, so he could have better access. I exhaled shakily, my body yearning for more. Without further thought, my hand settled over my chest and took attention to it.
"You like that?",
I heard Jared ask hesitantly. I just nodded, too caught up in the pleasure to answer. Slowly, Jared increased the pace and his grip on my leg tightened. My moans were muffled by his shoulders. I felt like my body was burning up, and I longed to cool down. The grip around my chest became rougher, and I left my other hand on the back of his neck, pulling him down to me.
"Faster.", I mumbled before eagerly capturing his lips. This kiss was not patient and gentle, but dirty and greedy. At one point, I felt his teeth. Jared was no longer drawing circles, but making frantic and choppy movements. I quickly corrected him and groaned loudly as he found the right pace.
"Fuck, yes," I gasped. My hips had taken control and were meeting his movements. I took turns massaging my breasts, getting closer and closer to my climax. My legs tightened, my hand dug into his hair, and I was no longer able to concentrate on kissing him. Instead, he leaned his forehead against mine.
"Open your eyes, look at me," I heard his voice through the rapidly rushing blood.
It wasn't easy for me, but I looked up at him with half-open eyes.
"You're so beautiful, you know that?" He slowly increased his speed, causing my eyelids to fall shut. Groaning, I submitted to the feeling.
"No, open your eyes and look at me while you come," Jared murmured. I bit my lips as I looked into his eyes. He nodded and smiled proudly.
"Yeah, just like that. Now you can come."
As if my body had just been waiting for it, my muscles contracted internally, and I let out a long-drawn-out moan. My hand had tightened around my breast; it was painful, but a good kind of pain. Jared's gaze held me captive the whole time he was doing this.
After I came down from my climax, I dropped my head to his shoulder and leaned against him.
"We should go upstairs."
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miyalove · 3 years
Text
⋆。˚⁀➷ WRAPPED UP.
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⤷ pairing. ceo!kuroo tetsuro x (female) secretary!reader
⤷ genre. fluff, smut, office au, friends with benefits au
⤷ warnings. swearing, taboo relationship, the use of princess as a nickname, possessiveness, messy sex, rough sex, begging, brief mentions of degradation, ass slapping, ass groping, teasing, (unexpected) sir kink, manhandling, dom!kuroo, sub!reader, power play, spitting, consumption of another person’s spit, lingerie, dirty talk, penetrative sex, sex without a condom (please be safe, kids), *unedited
⤷ note. this might be one of the dirtiest things i have EVER written... so i hope you enjoy! and of course, happy valentines day ♡
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1.6k | what's a better valentine’s day gift for your boss than yourself?
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the relationship you and kuroo have is a bit taboo. the secretary and the ceo. with the way you sway your hips with a little more emphasize when you leave his office, the way you laugh at all his jokes, the way your body dip downs (ass in the air looking absolutely perfect) to grab at fallen papers. of course, something was going to happen. you were practically betting on it. 
but of course, it takes two to start the devil’s conga line.
it was kuroo who wanted you to stay later than usual. only you and him in his big office space and yet he urged you to stay, big hands rubbing at the inside of your thighs. it was him who insisted on how sexy you looked in the middle of meetings; your hair neatly tucked behind your ears, lips pouted and a fire behind your eyes that would make any man weak. it was kuroo that guided you to his desk, smile bright and eyes glowing with mischief because he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. you can’t complain though, you want it too. 
he grabs at your waist turning you around so your thighs are firmly pressed against his desk. the lace you have on perfectly shapes your body. it presses at your delicate skin, digging and reaching into all the places kuroo wishes he could touch. he swears he could stare at you all day like this; bent over, dripping pussy on display just for him.
this was different though.
no matter how many times you walked in his office with your alluring eyes. kuroo prided himself on being professional. there was a natural attraction between the two of you, that much is obvious, but for the sake of his company, kuroo never made a move. the feeling of belittlement against you for ‘sleeping your way up’ would make him stay awake at night with guilt. however, tonight things were different. maybe it was the fact that this was your first valentines together or maybe fate just has a really niche sense of humor, but whatever the case; you’re still sopping wet and begging to be fucked.
his hands roam your body. he moves slowly, studying every curve and dip like you’re the latest from leonardo de vinci. ah yes, the redness from when i smacked her ass contrast perfectly to the color of her eyes. you’re beautiful. he desperately craves to say it but the words die on his tongue before he can speak. instead, he lets his actions talk.
“it’s too bad these have to go, princess.” a single finger traces your lace cladded entrance. the action alone has you whimpering. “i’ll buy you another set though.” you feel him shift from behind, body leaning down to press a chaste kiss to the small of your back. 
one of his hands snake up to your neck, yanking at the roots of your tresses. the force makes you gasp. a mixture of pain, shock, and pleasure rushes through you. your head whips back in an uncomfortable position, but you’re able to see kuroo’s perfectly sculptured face, so really you have no complaints. “how do you feel about red?” 
the sound of fabric ripping in half has you concern, at first. but kuroo tetsuro, for as long as you’ve known him has been a no bullshit kind of man. he teases and jokes but when it comes down to business, he’s a cutthroat beast. so it makes sense for him to move on as fast as he came.
there’s no time for you to wonder in astonishment at how he throws your (now useless) panties across his office. he’s already pulling out his cock and sinking into you until his body presses right against your back. naturally, your lips part into a pout that’s wrapped around a wanton moan. the stretch is sensational and the burn evens out the euphoria. he feels you up so well. you can feel his cock rub up against your walls, reaching spots within you that have never been touched by anyone else before. you understand now why your boss is no play and all business. when kuroo needs to, he’s not afraid to get down and dirty just like right now.
“this cunt was made for me.” is what he purrs into your ear. it’s embarrassing how much that affects you. the mere idea of being his has you clenching around his huge cock. his free hand rubs at your back, grabbing at the supple flesh on your ass. you can feel his nails dig into you, the coldness from his rings slightly soothing the pain.
“this ass was made for me too.” and to further cement his claim, he delivers a particularly hard thrust at the same time he smacks at your cheeks. the movement makes you fly forward, papers and other (probably very important things) slide off the top of his desk, but you don’t have time to care. not when the man of your dreams is fucking you so good. you’ll worry about the crumpled up project approval papers later. 
“god, and that mouth.” he shifts to the side. the pressure on your head heightens while he pulls at your ends. your neck feels stiff and his thrust begin to shallow. his ring cladded fingers draw at your jaw, thumb playing with the entrance of your mouth. 
“this pretty little mouth.” his lips brush against your own. his breath fans across your face. he’s so close to kissing you in fact if you moved just an inch closer you would– a fat glob of spit cuts you off. the sudden action made you flinch at first but kuroo made it very clear you could tell him to stop at anytime. his saliva comes down from his long tongue and slots within your mouth perfectly. 
he clamps your jaw shut and you have no choice but to swallow him whole. “good girl, just like that.” he coaxes you while petting at your crown. when you finally open your mouth and all of him is gone, kuroo swears he could cum right then and there. 
“you’re so fucking sexy. holy shit.” his shallow thrust began to get more punctuated now. you can’t hear anything besides the slapping of skin-on-skin contact. you don’t hear kuroo’s phone ringing for the third time. you don’t hear the bustling street life just below tetsuro’s flamboyant row of glass windows. all you can focus on is the intense pleasure that pumps through your veins. it makes you see stars with every thrust, makes your legs shake with every murmur of pretty girl. the white hot coil within you is thinning. it’s about to snap, you can feel it.
“te– tetsuro, please?”
“please, what, princess?” his voice is strained. he’s close too. 
“please, can i come, sir?”
he can’t believe it. he must have died in the middle of the day and ended up in some kind of sex heaven with you as the starring role (not that he’s complaining). he has the a fantastic view of your ass bouncing, you swallow him down like the pretty slut you are, and you respond perfectly with every little touch, every little action. you’re perfect is what he concludes.
“fuck, yes.” his fingers dig into your sides. his grip is like a vice on your skin as he shoves himself deeper within you. “cum for me, princess.” 
you feel his dick twitch and seconds later he’s cummings with a shaky sigh. you’re finally able to let go, you come at around the same time, milking his cock for every last drop. kuroo takes it upon himself to fuck you through your orgasm, a little slower this time, but it still has you breaking down. 
he remembers the way you sauntered into his office, skirt a little too short and eyes practically begging for him. you must have known something was going to happen. there’s no way you just wear pretty pink lace to your everyday job. no, today was a special day for you and apparently for him too. when things finally get too much, kuroo tucks his softened cock back into his pants.
you’re hair is messy. it’s matted from all the sweat and tangled from all the times kuroo raked through your locks and pulled. your chest rises and falls quickly and your eyes are closed trying to concentrate. the blissful veil of sex is finally settling and yet you still look as gorgeous as ever. he’s left there staring at you like you’re the only thing that matters to him. like he wouldn’t mind waking up everyday to your face weather you’re smiling up at him or snoring up a storm. 
when you shift to hop of the desk is when he finally makes a move. he grabs onto your waist, trying his hardest to steady himself so you’re able to balance too. your feet hit the floor and your legs feel like they’re gonna give out at any moment. they wobble under your weight. you can’t help but laugh. it’s a sweet, melodious tone that’s a little scratchy from your... previous actions, but still, he thinks it fits.
“what’s gotten you so giggly?” he guides you to one of his plush office chairs. as you walk, your body remains flesh against his.
“i just–,” your hues lock onto kuroo’s dark ones. “i wouldn’t mind if we did this again, yanno?” 
he smiles down at you watching while you readjust your skirt back over your legs. you bend forward with you’re ass in the air. you must be doing it on purpose, he knows with the way you comically wiggle your hips. and he nods, “yes, i wouldn’t mind that either.”
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lepusrufus · 3 years
Text
Double edged scalpel ch.4
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Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3
Summary: Daniela wingman Dimitrescu
---
Who knew that a door could look so intimidating. The dark wood decorated with golden floral patterns and the Dimitrescu crest in the middle wasn’t unlike most other doors in the castle. This door however had one big difference from the rest: it was the door to Cassandra’s bedroom.
Nicole had crossed paths with Daniela earlier, who wasted no time in placing the duty of fetching the middle sister for dinner upon her. Oh well. She was supposed to meet the brunette anyways. Tomorrow at sundown, Cassandra had said. And that was just after dinner. But the lingering feeling of their lips together, deep in a hidden nook in the garden, left Nicole unsure on what to expect from her.
With a final deep breath, she knocked on the door.
It was silent for a few long seconds. She was about to knock again, sure that Cassandra was still sleeping, but was stopped by a groggy reply that she took as her cue to enter.
“Lady Daniela sent me to let you know dinner will be ready soon.”
Nicole had a split second when she regretted each and every decision that led up to that very moment when she noticed the brunette stirring awake, naked body thankfully covered by soft blankets. Cassandra didn’t seem to mind though, as she yawned and stretched her arms like a lazy cat would.
“That’s a weird way to say Daniela is lazy and sent you to do her job.” She grabbed her watch from the nightstand. “Ugh, it’s early.” It’s 7 p.m.
From where she stood, looking anywhere but at the brunette, Nicole wasn’t sure how to respond. It’s not as if she could’ve said no to Daniela’s request. Or, to be more accurate, order. Apparently Cassandra didn’t wait for a reply, as she got out of bed and shuffled to her dresser, hopefully to put some clothes on. With one of her typical black dresses now on, she tiptoed to the other occupant in the room.
“Modest, are we,” she said, placing her hands on Nicole’s waist, not unlike she did many times before.
“Just trying not to get my eyes gouged out.” Hopefully Cassandra still appreciated her humor.
The brunette slowly spinned the other girl around so she could look in her eyes, as if she were a child inspecting a newly received christmas gift. “Mm...you can keep them. Now come on, spend some time with me since Dani insisted on you waking me up so early.”
Thanks Daniela.
Nicole felt herself get pulled further into the room, barely having time to take in all the trinkets and decor inside before she was tugged down to sit in Cassandra’s lap.
Well… best possible scenario.
This time there was no hesitation when their lips connected, one hand finding its place at the brunette's nape, pulling her close. Cassandra let out a small moan when she felt nails scratch lightly against her scalp, which Nicole took as an opportunity to slip her tongue past black painted lips. They kissed until Cassandra pulled back, opting instead to leave a trail of kisses and black lipstick on her jawline, down her throat, and finally her collarbone. The kisses were getting increasingly more aggressive, with nips at the skin and finally teeth dragging at the crook of Nicole's neck.
Cassandra inhaled deeply but pulled her mouth away from the skin, resting her forehead against that spot instead. When she spoke, her tone was dripping with barely held back desire.
"If you want me to stop, you should go."
Oh no, Nicole didn't just shove her tongue in her god damn mouth for them to stop. Whatever crumble of self preservation was left within her, it got booted out the metaphorical front door of her brain the moment she got pulled into the brunette's lap. The only thing that made her hesitate for a second was whether or not Cassandra could bite someone without actually killing them.
"Do not go near the jugular.”
And Cassandra listened. She dragged her teeth from the neck, down to the shoulder and, after an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to the spot, she sunk her now sharp fangs in the flesh.
Nicole couldn't stop a whimper from escaping past her lips at the sudden jolt of pain. But the sensation of soft lips on her skin and Cassandra's low moan at the taste of her blood made for the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain.
"Cassa- ah," she moaned her name, fingers tangled in black hair which only seemed to spur her on.
The pain steadily faded, leaving behind only a tingling sensation. It stopped her brain from putting together any coherent thought, almost as if being drunk without the actual alcohol. But blood loss instead. Nicole tugged lightly on Cassandra's hair when dizziness started to make itself present. When that did nothing, she pulled with slightly more force.
"Cassandra-" she let out a pained groan, mild panic slipping into her voice.
That made the brunette snap out of it, forcefully pulling herself back and eyeing the bloody mess on Nicole's shoulder. She caught the redhead by the arms for support when she slumped forward slightly, pinching the bridge of her nose with a soft ugh. How much blood can a human lose again? Fourteen percent? And Nicole was also quite small.
Cassandra stretched to grab a tissue from the nightstand and pressed it against the puncture wounds, frowning when Nicole flinched at the pain it caused.
"Uh...are you okay?"
Nicole took a deep breath before replying. "-m good. You should...uh go though. I'll go lay down and-...and meet you after dinner." Then she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to try to alleviate the dizziness and tried to stand up.
Cassandra grimaced at how wobbly Nicole's movement's were and guided her back down, on the soft mattress. The redhead didn't protest, not that she really could anyways.
"No. Stay here, you're no good if you just fall and crack your skull open against a stairwell."
"But-"
Cassandra ignored her, only pushing her down to rest against one of the many pillows littering the bed. "No buts, this is an order from your lady. Now take a nap or something and I'll fetch you after dinner."
Nicole saw her turn around and exit the room, door shutting with a heavy thump. She felt too dizzy to try and fight back. And after all, why would she? The bed was incredibly soft, almost as if it was cradling her small body, inviting her to fall asleep. She slowly pulled one of the blankets up to her waist and positioned herself in such a way that the tissue wouldn't fall from her shoulder. A short nap was all she needed, then she'd be up by the time dinner was done. It only took shutting her eyes for a few seconds to fall asleep, the haze in her mind receding into comforting nothingness.
---
Hot. She felt so incredibly hot. How could Cassandra sleep amongst all these pillows and blankets in the middle of August?
She groaned and stirred, tissue forgotten and covered in dry blood by now. She turned around, trying to find a colder spot and sighed contently upon finding a cool pillow to bury her face into.
Since when did pillows hum?
Nicole snapped her eyes open and jerked backwards, realizing that the "pillow" was Cassandra's side, who apparently had returned from dinner and was now laying in bed with a book.
"I- I'm sorry! I think I overslept and-"
She was interrupted by a slender finger on her lips.
"Get back here, you're so warm."
Too warm, Nicole almost replied but Cassandra's hand mowed from her lips to trace her jawline and neck. Then,when it got to her nape, she pulled the redhead back on her chest, cheek resting on the cool skin.
Nicole froze for a moment but soon melted into the touch. Presumably one of the perks of being an undead being was never getting too hot. At least temperature-wise. She tentatively snaked an arm around the brunette's waist and, when there was no protest, she shifted her body closer against hers.
Checking the time didn't even occur to Nicole until her eyes fell on one of the windows, noticing it was pitch black beyond the glass.
"Shouldn't we have…" she just vaguely gestured, not even sure what they were supposed to do that day in the dungeons.
"Here's one of the perks of working with me darling: if I don't feel like doing anything then congratulations, you've got yourself a day off. Now why don't you enjoy it hmm."
She emphasized her words by bringing her free hand to Nicole's head, nails lightly scratching the scalp. But Nicole was wide awake, despite the pleasant sensation that elicited a content hum from her.
There were so many things to take in that she hadn't noticed earlier. Just like her study, Cassandra's bedroom was like a collection of glimpses into her. The desk was littered with papers and oddly modern drawing supplies, the kind you would get by entering the art supply store down the road from her college dorm. A mannequin in the corner of the room was wearing a most likely tailor made dress, complete with what looked like a matching sword. The wall she could see was half covered in bookshelves, half in deer antlers or horns of different animals. Some had labels with dates underneath them that were too far to read, but Nicole managed to decipher one that said 08.06.1982.
She didn't want to risk losing her precious head scratches in order to explore the other half of the room, so her eyes settled on the one thing she could see without moving. The book in Cassandra's other hand.
"What're you reading?"
Cassandra sighed, realizing that she was still awake but answered anyway.
"Watership down."
She giggled, still a bit lightheaded. "Bunnies…"
Cassandra rolled her eyes, not quite in the mood to go on a lengthy discourse about the themes of said "bunnies". She opted to change the topic instead, voice oddly soft.
"How's your head?"
"Mmm...dizzy."
"Sleep then."
"My room is too far away."
"Sleep here you dumbass."
Nicole was silent for a few moments, putting together the few coherent thoughts still lingering in her brain. Then, trying not to slur her words due to dizziness and sleepiness alike:
"Isn't that against protocol? Do you even have a protocol?"
"The protocol is that our staff serves my family. Right now you're keeping me warm. There, congratulations on performing your duties. Now go to sleep."
The redhead gave in, too tired to keep on annoying Cassandra. She nuzzled her face closer to the brunette's neck leaving a small peck on her collarbone and closed her eyes. The nails still scratching at her scalp, occasionally moving to run through long auburn locks proved more than efficient at lulling her to sleep. She could swear she felt a soft, almost imperceptible kiss on the top of her head before consciousness fully slipped away from her
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peachsayshi · 3 years
Text
Chapter 9 - Intimate (1)
Gojo Satoru x Female Reader
Tags: Friends with Benefits, Teasing, Sex with Gojo Satoru (is that a good enough explanation lol?), squirting
Summary: Gojo uses you to relieve some of his stress after his little argument with your best friend, and poses a question that catches you off guard.
A/N: ~ a little bit of possessive/jealous Gojo ~ this is smut, and there will be a part two that follows up with this chapter! I hope you enjoy it x
- - - 
His tall figure nailed you against the frame of your front door, your body growing hot as Gojo pressed his abdomen into you. You squeezed your ankles, drawing his movements closer as he deepened his kiss. Letting go of his hair that was curled between your fingers, your hand released the back of his head and gently trailed down his neck. His muscles were tense, his skin taut as you moved across his collarbone and onto his other shoulder, desperately trying to counter his energy with your soft touches. You gripped onto his shirt, fighting against his insistent mouth that had you colliding into the hard wood behind you.
A part of you knew that something was off about his behavior but the other half was blinded by complete lust. You wanted to catch your breath, figure out exactly what set him off but instead chose to entertain his insatiable desires. There was a growing ache radiating from your core and spreading down between your legs. Right now, the only person who can help with it is the man before you.
You felt his hand lightly slip away from underneath your thigh while the other traded your breast for the curve of your spine as he shifted to support you on your back. You could feel the pads of fingers touch the skin of your leg, shooting up your nerves as he snaked his way underneath the fabric of your loose, fleece shorts to rub your already soaked underwear. He finally pulled away from your lips, pressing them into your neck instead as his thumb playfully circled against you.
“ Fuck…” he whispered hoarsely, his breath sending goosebumps across your skin.
He managed to slip two fingers easily inside you, inserting himself all the way in before scissoring his digits.
“ Ohh, ‘toru…” you moaned, barely able to say his name as his fingers pleasured you while his tongue tasted your skin.
Your body was getting hotter by the second, your legs shaking trying to hold yourself around him. Gojo’s hand was drenched in your arousal as he quickened his pace. You were so used to him drawing out your orgasms, taking his time as if he was mapping out each second before reaching the final destination.
He was moving at a quick pace, not stopping once to tease or torment you. His actions had you whining in desperation as he drew you closer to your release, moving rapidly until your first orgasm ripped right through you. He supported you as your body clenched around him, pushing himself away from you to watch you come undone before him. You didn’t care that your back was sore from the friction against the door, or that your muscles ached from the position you were in. The minute you felt that build up release from within you, a desperate cry escaped your lips. You knew that if any of your neighbors were outside, they probably heard the entire thing.
Gojo repositioned himself to face you, bringing his slender fingers to your lips. His silence was deafening because the man absolutely adored dirty talk, which was always an added plus when he praised you for your efforts. The quiet, stoic reaction you were getting had you flustered for a whole other reason. His middle finger tapped your cupid’s bow, indicating you to open your mouth. His command made your cheeks bloom with warmth but you parted your lips anyway to suck his fingers clean.
You hated that you sometimes associated Gojo with your ex-boyfriend, but you didn’t have any other partners to compare notes with.
When you were with your ex, sex was something that the two of you explored together as a couple. You were both young and naive, trying to learn each other’s bodies and over time you both grew into one another’s touch. However, sex still only played a small  role in your entire relationship, uncomparable to the emotional intimacy you shared.
With Gojo, things were so different. You didn’t think it was possible to be as attracted to somebody as you were to him, the way your body immediately responded to him was magnetic. You would never admit how easily he preoccupied your mind but the longer you two kept exploring this avenue of your friendship, the harder it was for you to ignore your infatuation. Yes, he took the time he needed to study every part of you, like a musician playing an instrument, but he was a fast learner and quick to pick up on the things that made you sing beautifully for him.
Gojo carefully let go of you, allowing your feet to land on the floor as you stood on shaky knees. He stepped away from you, his fingers hooking onto your t-shirt as he tugged you in the direction towards your bedroom not lifting his gaze from you even once.
“Take off your clothes,” he commanded as he shut the door.
After you got undressed, you found your position on the mattress, laying flat on your back as you watched Gojo strip down to his boxers. You squeezed your slick coated thighs together, biting your bottom lip and admiring his gorgeous figure until he finally removed the last article of clothing he was wearing, your mouth growing dry at the sight of his erection.
He crawled his way over the bed before hovering himself above you, his hand reached for the back of his head, and your eyes widened slightly as you watched him undo the knot to allow his blindfold to loosen from around his temple. White hair framed those eyes, a mesmerising blue that knocked the wind out of you.
“What are you doing?” you whispered, “I thought-”
Before you could finish your statement, Gojo had taken away your sight, wrapping the material around your eyes and shrouding you in darkness. You swallowed hard, wondering how Gojo could even see through the thick fabric that constantly concealed him. You felt his fingers working, a tightness circling the back of your head as he fastened the knot.
“Is this okay?” he asked kindly in a low voice, waiting for you to give him an answer before he carried on.
You nodded your head and he responded with a kiss.
“Good.”
He forcefully spread your legs open, his tongue stroking upward along your slit. His arms wrapped underneath your thighs, hands latching onto your hips as he buried himself between your legs. Your head fell back onto the sheets, a pleasured sensation filtering along your body. Something about not being able to see made this entire experience more thrilling, because you couldn’t focus on anything else except Gojo’s mouth. It wasn’t long before you had your second orgasm, your back arching off the mat as you held his head closer to you. Gojo, however, didn’t stop. He felt you wiggle your hips away from him, and pulled you back in with a grunt. His mouth found you sensitive pearl, enclosing around it as he began to suck before freeing up one of his hands to dive into your cunt.
“ Satoru…wait… ” you begged, too sensitive to have him keep working on you anymore. “ w-wai…ohhhh… ”
But he didn’t heed your plea, instead he curled his fingers even further inside you, fucking you again with his hand. Your body shivered, panting heavily as you tried to raise your hips away but the man refused to stop and instead your movements only caused you to dance with his own, leaving a pressure to start building again from within you. You couldn’t even think straight, seeing little sparks before your eyes within the darkness until you mewled when you felt his teeth nibble on your clit.
His other hand was rough on your skin, pressing into your hips and you knew for a fact he was going to leave a few marks. You always gave him a hard time about it but secretly you loved it. He had such an easy claim on your body, and you willingly gave into him without question.
When his tongue was inside you is when you came a third time, and then a fourth time. And then…
“ I-I can’t…fuck! ‘toru..it’s too much…it’s too much… ”
Your hands reached for his head, pushing him away. He lifted up his gaze, and you were unable to see the smirk that spread across his glistened lips. His fingers found his place back inside you, “ you can and you will, angel. ”
By the time Gojo drove you to your fifth orgasm, you could barely breathe, the mattress soaked with your arousal. Your body was weak, pulsing along with your racing heart and you were wetter than you’ve ever been before. You swallowed hard, trying to fully grasp what just happened.
“How amusing,” Gojo complimented, his words steeping with sheer satisfaction.
You could hear him fumble around, your trembling hands reaching for the blindfold that you tugged off.
Once Gojo slipped on the condom, he returned his attention back to you. Your eyes met, your heart nearly stopping from the way he was looking at you. Passion swirled through his irises, a fiery blue that singed if you stared for too long. His gaze is intense, making you blush when you realize that this is how he’s always been looking at you.
You look at the mess that you created, your insecurities twisting your insides.
“I…”
Gojo could see the slight panic in your eyes, bringing that devilish mouth of his onto your lips to kiss you.
“ Mmm, you were fucking perfect. Let’s see if we can try that again. ”  
His hands held your waist, turning you around until you were face down and you naturally lifted yourself up from behind to assume the position. The tip of his cock spread your lips open, and he thrusted himself hard into you from behind. The muscles in your legs clenched, a satisfied sigh escaping you feeling the length of his member. Your walls were pulsing around him, the fullness sending goosebumps across your abdomen. Gojo didn’t move, he just held himself there for a minute, feeling your warmth around his stiff cock.
He brought his lips down to your neck, lazily trailing kisses on your skin and moving his hand to meet your clit once again. Still buried inside you, his finger began working the most sensitive part of you.
“You weren’t supposed to take off the blindfold, ” he murmured against your ear. “You broke one of our rules… ”
“You broke one first,” you whispered in response, making him chuckle against your skin.
Satoru didn’t move, leaving you pinned underneath him in anguish. He slowed down his pace with his fingers and you whimpered as you clutched your bedsheets.
“You’re too good to me, angel,” he whispered in your ear, his words almost sad as he slowly pulled his hips away.
“ Always so wet and eager for me …” he continued, driving himself back inside you and earning another whimper in response.
“ Tell me, angel. Has any man ever fucked you like this before ?”  
You gasped as he began alternating his words with his movements, leaving you melting underneath him.
“Has he ever made you come like that before?”
Now that question caught you off guard.
Your face grew hot; Gojo knew what he was asking - he wanted to know if your ex made you feel even half as good as he did in bed. Did he ever drive you to the point where you were so unraveled by what was happening, you painted his sheets from sheer pleasure.
You parted your lips to speak but no words came out, slightly shocked that Gojo would even pry into your personal memories like that. Your pause made him stop his movements, his free hand finding yours and intertwining his fingers in your own as he pressed your fist into the mattress.
You swallowed hard, “ he-um...we’ve never… ”
“ Yes or no? ”
“ N-no… ” you replied truthfully. “ Just you.”  
You wondered if it was jealousy or passion feeding into his sexual ego. Gojo returned to his movements, his body enveloping on top of you as he fucked you. He quickened his pace, the sound of your bodies writhing surrounding you both. You were aching from your releases already, knowing full well that you won’t be able to last long underneath him.
“Tell me you’re mine…”
“ Satoru…” you replied, dizzy with the heightened emotions you were feeling. Your words were caught in your throat, replaced with another moan feeling his dick slipping in and out of you.
“ Say it, angel. ” he repeated, his hand increasing the pressure on your clit and forcing tears to prick your eyes.
Your breath hitched as you tried to speak, “ yours . I’m yours- ”  
He fucked you with intensity, the tension only fueling every thrust that he drove into you. As you felt him inside you, you closed your eyes and lost yourself to the moment completely drunk on pure lust. You didn’t even realise in your haze you were still whispering those words, reminding him over and over again that in this moment your body belonged to him alone. White noise rang in your ear when you finally came, you were going limp underneath him as your muscles finally relaxed against the mattress as you rested.
“ Mine,” you heard him groan in return, holding you close into his chest as he finally found his own release.  
The two of you were intertwined, limbs tangled and sharing slow breaths while trying to acclimate from your post-sex high. After Gojo caught himself, he finally decided to release you from his grip, rolling onto his back as he held you against his rising and falling chest. His eyes were closed, his head heavy and he could tell he had exhausted himself. He pinched his eyelids together with one hand, all that pent up irritation filtering away.
He felt your hand in his, which you haven’t let go since he held yours. You stroked the inside of his palm with your thumb, the first to break the silence as you turned to look up at him.
“Uhm...if you plan on sticking around, I can make us some dinner after we freshen up…”
“Sure,” he replied, keeping his eyes closed before asking, “you wouldn’t happen to have a black scarf lying around by any chance?”
- CHAPTER 10: INTIMATE (2) - 
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sarah-bae-maas · 3 years
Text
Gwyn is Ready to Have More from Azriel
I’m trash for them, okay? And I will simply not apologise for it. Can we all agree that their ship name is Gywnriel? 
Masterlist Ao3
_____
For months now, all that had been between them were tentative touches, kisses that would end before they could become too heated. Gwyn appreciated it deeply. The time Azriel had given to her, the steps they had taken together took her to places she thought she’d never reach. She still remembered the way she shook when he first held her hands, and now she was bedazzled with daily reminders of his feelings for her.
She smiled at him. He was seated next to Cassian, the two males shirtless and sprawled on the floor after training discussing how they might seduce Mor into taking on her own class of novices. They would’ve asked Rhys or Feyre, but between all their ruling duties, Feyre’s art classes and little Nyx, they barely had time to breath.
Az saw her look and smiled back, the shadows clinging to his hands disappearing as he looked at her. It made her cheeks go red to see it, and she couldn’t help but gaze down at his beautiful abdomen, the powerful muscles nothing short of wondrous. Being near him, and having him want her, made her feel powerful too. But the age-old fear always crept in before things went too far.
“Cassian and I are heading into Velaris for lunch, would you like to join?” Nesta asked her, her eyes glinting as she looked at Gwyn and knew exactly what she was thinking. “Az will likely come, and he’ll fly you down.”
“Thank you, but I’ll let you and Cassian enjoy yourselves.” Gwyn touched the pendent at her throat, the stained glass hidden beneath her leathers. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”
“Of course. Morrigan will get Emerie in the afternoon, and Cassian is making himself scarce.”
“He doesn’t need to do that!” Gwyn didn’t want him thinking he couldn’t spend time with them when they all stayed together at the House. Gwyn trusted Cassian as much as she could any man, and loved that her dearest friend had found a male who loved and cared for her so very much. Seeing them together is what gave her the courage to approach Azriel after months of shy glances and quiet conversations.
“He wants to give us our privacy. He’ll have dinner with us, and then I think he plans on stealing Nyx.” Nesta smiled at the thought of her mate and a baby, and Gwyn couldn’t blame her. There was just something about a deadly warrior caring for something so vulnerable that set her evolutionary instincts on fire.
Before Gwyn had the chance to reply, the man of the hour approached them, holding out a hand to both of them to help them up. They stood, Nesta stepping into him and resting her chin on his chest, peering up at him with unbridled admiration.  
Cassian said his goodbye to Gwyn, pressing a featherlight kiss to her cheek in farewell. She didn’t blush, used to it by now. One of the things she liked most was little kisses to her cheeks and forehead, the main perpetrators of the act being Emerie and Nesta. The kisses didn’t speak of the violence she’d endured, but rather of how much her friends loved her. Friendship was an intimacy she craved outside of anything else, and she’d nearly cried the first time Nesta had kissed the top of her head, her friend hugging her after a particularly bad scalding in the library.
Nesta and Cassian left, leaving Gwyn alone with Azriel. He grinned at her the moment they had peace. He walked over, his steps hurried as if he couldn’t wait to be near her. He placed his lovely hands on her cheeks and pressed their foreheads together.
“A veritable Valkyrie,” he said.  
“You give me too much praise.”
“I could never say enough kind things about you.”
She kissed the tip of his nose, happy to be in his arms.
***
Gwyn laid alone in her room, the single bed not big enough for all that she was feeling. She had spent nearly her entire lunch break kissing Azriel, but it had gone no further. But she’d wanted more. Needed more. She couldn’t stop thinking of the way his lips had touched her neck, or how his hands were so steady on her waist. She was half tempted to beg him to clutch her harder, to grab her in other more sensitive areas, but she didn’t know how to ask. Az was respectful to a fault. Well, no, not a fault, she loved how patient and gentle he was with her. But it meant he would never ask for more, or take more, fearful that he might spook her.
She squeezed her thighs at the thought of him, her hand idly running up and down her stomach. There had been a few times, in her rare moments of privacy, that she had taken Nesta’s advice and explored herself before having another touch her. She had scarcely in her youth, but she’d been a fumbling teen who didn’t understand what to touch to make it feel good.
As always, her thoughts drifted to him, and as she inched up her dress…
The door opened, the two other acolytes she bunked with going to bed early. Gwyn managed to snatch her hand away, but it was painfully obvious what she was about to do.
She rolled to her side and tried to suppress a groan, her fellow acolytes giggling under their breath.
Wanting to clear her head, she got up and feigned going to the bathroom, instead going into the bowels of the library. Most people were still at dinner, and she made a wide berth from the hallways that led to their dining hall. She wasn’t sure where to go. She could keep studying, although it wasn’t an appealing thought, or maybe she could go to the heart of the House and let it sneak her treats and tea.
Instead, she found herself walking until she was in the training ring. She hadn’t bothered putting shoes on. She loved the way the cool stone felt beneath her feet – like it was centring her. She would have been content to stay here forever, pitch a tent and claim this spot as hers. This was the spot she found her sisters, Nesta and Emerie. This is where she became strong, where she started tackling the demons that haunted her at night. This is where the elusive man that saved her that fateful day at the temple became a friend, and then more. Yes, she could have stayed here forever with the breeze caressing her face and the stars winking in greeting.
She heard a creak to the left and turned, worrying an acolyte might have followed her out. Instead, she saw the usually locked entry to the House open, warm and welcoming light spilling from its threshold. One to take a hint, she walked inside. She couldn’t hear Nesta or Cassian, but they had long put silencing wards on each room. She looked around the entryway, and another door opened to her left, leading her down the grand staircase and into a hallway. Once again, all the doors were shut, but as her feet touched the landing one opened, Gwyn knowing it to be the study. Going where the House was prompting her, she caught Azriel curiously staring at the door, trying to make it shut when it wouldn’t budge.
“I don’t think you’ll have much luck. It seems the House wanted me here.”
She revelled in his small gilt of surprise, an honour that he let his composure down enough around her for her to see any sort of emotion.
“Gwyn, what are you doing here?” His tone, not accusatory in the slightest, sent a shock through her stomach.
He looked… different in the dark. Of course she’d seen him in the night, whether it be in the city or over a meal with Cassian and Nesta, but never alone in a room lit only by scattered candles. His beauty was different like this, his face a marble sculpture carved by the most brilliant artists, his hair silken black, his eyes the night sky between the spirits on Starfall.
“Is this your study?” She ignored his question, entering the room. The door closed behind her, and she felt a sudden absence in the room, as if the House had given them some privacy.  
“It is, I forbade Nesta and Cassian from coming in here a year ago. I didn’t want them tarnishing my stuff,” he laughed.
She swallowed hard, her hands clasped in front of her.
He looked at her thoughtfully. “Are you okay?”
She paused before she answered, not quite knowing what to say. It’s not like she could go oh, Azriel, don’t mind me, I just think my horniness was so palpable the House wrapped you as a gift and planted you in my lap.
Instead, she took a step forward, close enough to place her hands on his chest.
“I’ve been having thoughts,” she murmured, not looking him in the eyes. His hands came to rest over hers, and she was embarrassed at the fluttering in them he must feel.
“What kind of thoughts?”
Her breath shuddered. She pressed her face into the space between their hands, not able to bear the look on his face. “We’ve been taking things so slowly, and I’m so grateful that the little I’ve been able to offer you has been enough.”
“Gwyn.” His voice trembled. “Whatever you can give, whether it’s an ounce or nothing, I would happily take.”
“But what if I wanted to take?” One of her hands snaked around his neck. “What if I wasn’t ready for everything, but couldn’t get the thought of you touching me out of my head?”  
It was his turn to shudder, but he didn’t move an inch. He just let her explain. She pressed herself into him harder, her face reddening when she felt what her words were doing to him. She dared peek down, his arousal present and obvious. It made her mouth water.
“Whatever you want, you can have. Just tell me.” He hands left hers, moving until they were on her waist and he could draw her nearer again. When she was close enough, his index finger landed on her chin, titling her head until he could look into her eyes. She saw fire in them, practically glowing with want. She knew hers would look the same.
“What do you want, Gwyn?”
Him.
“I want you to take your shirt off.”
And it was done. He didn’t hesitate to do as she asked and didn’t speak as she gingerly ran her fingers up and down his bare chest, letting her feel and press. He was a sight to behold – years of training crafting him into something magnificent. His mind, his body-
She kissed him, letting her hands wander to their desire. She kissed his mouth, his neck, and then steeled herself up to kissing the muscled chest she’d admired for so long. All the while, he ran his hands down her back and up to cup her head, his hands tangling in her hair.
“What do you want, Gwyn?”
“I want to sit on that desk as you kiss me. I want the earth-shattering kisses I read about in books. I don’t want you to hold back. I want to know how everyone else feels.”  
He nodded, and before she had a chance to say anything else, his hands were on her thighs and he was lifting her. She gasped as he wrapped her legs around his waist, their kiss not breaking as he used one hand to wipe away the paper and knives that littered his workspace. He sat her on his desk, but she tightened her legs around him, wanting him to know she didn’t plan on letting go anytime soon.
Her mouth opened for him, and she groaned as his tongue swept in, unhindered by fear. By the Cauldron, she couldn’t believe how much he had been holding back if this was how he kissed her uninhibited. One hand was on her thigh, the other around her waist to keep them close. So close, she dared to move her hips, just a bit, just to see what it would be like to grind against him. He groaned, his lips moving away from her to savour the feeling of her clothed pussy against his concealed length.
He kissed her again, his passion palpable as he held her, and Gwyn thought she could never go back to before. How could she tolerate the sweet, closed mouth presses of his lips when she could have this? When she could have his mouth working hers so hard she could feel herself start to drip?
She ground her hips again, desperate for the friction.
Azriel pulled back, hip lips swollen and his hair in a mess from where she had unconsciously dragged her fingers through it.
“What do you want, Gwyn?”
Her already racing heart faltered. How far did she want to go? She certainly wasn’t ready for sex, but she thought she might die if she didn’t have more of him. She glanced down between them, swallowing hard when she realised truly what she wanted. Knew that the dreams she had in her mind when her hand was between her legs could be a reality if she just asked.
“I want – I want your mouth on me.”
He stood up straight, her shaking legs barely holding on.
“Do you want me to taste you, Gwyn?” he asked.
She nodded.
“I need you to tell me. I need to know you want this.”
“Yes, yes Azriel. Taste me. Devour me.”
He smirked, and he started to lift her dress.
A jolt went through her, a change in mood he felt instantly. He stopped and stepped back, his hands going to behind his back.
Her eyes widened; she didn’t want him to stop – didn’t mean to make him stop.
“You will lick me until I cry your name so loud the people of Velaris can hear me. But my dress stays on,” she ordered breathlessly.
His smile was serpentine, and she felt it like a pinch to the bundle of nerves he would soon head for.
“Yes ma’am.”
He guided her so she was leaning back, and she yelped as he pulled her hips so she was balanced on the edge of the desk. He ran his hands up her dress, up her legs, as he knelt before her like a knight bowing to his queen. Her dress, which would stay on but had ridden up, bunched at her thighs, giving Azriel ample time to explore.
She watched as he peppered kisses to her calves, her knees and then the soft skin of her inner thighs. Her breathing was hitched, and when Az lifted her legs so that they were over his shoulders she could have ascended.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he whispered, looking up at her.
Those eyes alone had her feeling a way she’s never experienced. She nodded, whispered her yes.
“If you want to stop, at any time, just tell me. Or kick me. Anything you want. But don’t do something you’re uncomfortable with just because I’m here.” He smoothed over her thighs and pressed a kiss to her wet panties, giving her a tease of what was to come. “Do you want this?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll have it.”  
He pulled her panties aside and made a wide swipe up her centre, leaving her gasping. His tongue was relentless, but so perfect on her. He had her moaning his name in seconds, and he returned them like the act of pleasuring her was enough for him to find his own. One of her hands stayed in his hair, pulling it with a ferocity that might have pained him, but when she tried to take it away, he snatched at her hand, growling that she can pull it all she wanted. Her other hand went to her breast, feeling like she had to touch the nipples now peeking through her thin dress. Her legs shook in time to his tongue flicking against her clit, and it made a deep ache built between her legs. She moved her hips, unable to stop herself from grinding against his tongue.
His rhythm was better than a royal orchestra – her moans a melody she didn’t think herself capable of. As he continued to feast, the deep ache spread through her stomach and down to her toes, and with one final press of his delicious mouth she screamed his name, gripped onto the desk for support as her back arched and toes curled. His tongue rode her through the orgasm, and it wasn’t until she was whimpering his name that he stopped.
He gently slid her legs off his shoulders. They tremored, the limbs limp jelly in his hands. He hummed in satisfaction, rising to his feet so he could brush the hair from her face. A bead of sweat ran down her cheek, and he leaned forward to kiss it away.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, voice low. He didn’t move away from her, his lips brushing her cheek as he spoke.
“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to walk back to my room.”
Azriel laughed softly, a hoisted her up so he was carrying her like a bride.
“You can stay here.”
“I can’t-”
“In a separate room from me.”
She loved that he knew what she would say before the words even had a chance to form. She may have let him do holy things to her, but she wasn’t ready to share his bed – even if there wasn’t touching involved.
As he carried her, she stared at his beautiful face, awestruck that she might’ve had even just the smallest part of him.
“Thank you, Az.”
“My pleasure.”
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silksandcravats · 3 years
Text
All Tied Up - Viscount!Kylo
Once again I find myself taking my sweet time with the backstory kylo piece so in its place please accept another piece of viscount!kylo smut <3
Lady Ren stumbles across a rather indecent piece of literature which leads to her taken certain sexual liberties with her husband OR reader insert ties Kylo to the bed.
masterlist
Warnings/contents: fem!reader, bondage, PIV sex, unprotected sex, regency era, reader still has limited sexual knowledge, historical inaccuracies probably
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You fidgeted with the ribbons in your hand, turning them over and over again. Blue felt like as good a colour as any to use. It was a wicked idea, surely not one that might be expected from a gently bred lady such as yourself. But then, the idea wasn’t originally yours, that terribly indecent book was to blame. And it’s not like you sought the book out! You had only been seeking out the newest Jane Austen novel, which had the town abuzz (though the opinion of the female author herself was rather mixed). 
You, unfortunately, had been rather late to hearing about the work, meaning there was not a copy to be spared in all of Mayfair. Not to be deterred, you had linked arms with your ladies maid, and bribed one of your coachmen a whole two pounds to take you into the city. (The act of bribery had become necessary after the man expressed concern that the Viscount might not approve of your excursion, he was right of course but you were not easily dissuaded.)
Whilst scouring the shelves of that London bookshelf, you noticed a book at the end of the row had been turned down so the spine was hidden and pushed back slightly as if someone had been trying to hide it. Upon further inspection you found the title to be, “The art of Basketweaving”. 
How curious, you thought to yourself, turning the book over in your hands. Why would anyone have need to hide this? 
It took only a brief look inside for you to realise the book had nothing to do with baskets at all. Your cheeks grew very hot and you slammed the book shut, not wanting to be caught reading it, at least not here. And so in the end you returned to Mayfair with a very different sort of book.
Which lead you up to now, sitting in your bedchambers, awaiting your husband who should return from parliament any time now. You turned the book open to study the position once more. It was the most devious, most erotic drawing you had ever seen. The way the man’s wrists had been crossed over and snuggly tied to the bedpost, the way the woman on top appeared to be lowering herself onto him, you had to admit you hadn’t even known it was possible!
You slammed the book quickly when you heard approaching footsteps you knew belonged to your husband. You hid the book in the top drawer of your writing desk, beneath loose stationery, and pushed the door shut.
The Viscount used your first name to greet you, coming into the room just as you tossed the ribbons onto the bed.
“Hello darling,” you smiled turning to face him. You felt slightly nauseous as you watched his eyes flicker briefly to the ribbon on the bed. You made yourself take a deep breath as he turned back to you, trying to force your nerves to calm, he didn’t know what you were up to, he couldn’t.
“I did not expect to find you here at this time of day,” he spoke walking towards you. You hated when he looked at you this way - like he already knew all of your secrets, but you knew you couldn’t look away, that would be as good as branding yourself with the word “guilty”.
“I was hoping we might enjoy each other’s company for a while, before dinner,” you did your best to sound innocent, snaking your arms around his neck.
“Is that so?” He queried, his hands coming down to grasp your waist.
“Yes,” you breathed, tipping your face up to meet his. He kissed you briefly, before pulling back.
“And what might be the occasion?” 
“No occasion,” you shook your head, tugging slightly at his cravat. He hummed thoughtfully but didn’t reply, allowing you to pull the material free. You knew he was suspicious, but he didn’t push, allowing you to pull through his layers. His hands roamed you, undressing you at a much slower pace than you were him. And so when you finished you splayed your hands across his chest, and leaned forward, kissing slowly up his torso. 
“You’re very eager,” he noted, finally removing your drawers.
“Is such a sin to want one’s husband?” You looked up at him through your lashes, hoping to replace his curiosity with lust.
“Not at all,” He smirked, pulling your now naked form closer to him and kissing you again. You knew you had to be careful here, one wrong move and you would end up below him, and then you might as well forget your plans. You let your hands roam him a moment longer and slowly, slowly backed him up to the bed and then-
“I know you left Mayfair today,” He broke away, speaking down to you. Your brows furrowed.
“How did you-”
“I gave him five pounds.” 
He then took you by surprise, dropped back on the bed, and pulling you along on top of him. This was good, now he was right where you wanted him. 
“Five?” You gasped, trying to linger on the topic of staff rather than your unauthorised outing. “We shall be out a coachman when he runs off with his new fortune.” 
His fingertips grazed the flesh of your hips, tracing your skin, his touch was sinful but you couldn’t allow yourself to bask in it now, you needed his hands higher up. Your situation was still quite precarious after all, he might flip you onto your back at any moment.
“I don’t know what was more foolish, you leaving Mayfair or thinking I wouldn’t know,” he admonished. You grasped his hands, feeling pleased when he cooperated, and dragged them up slowly.
“I did bring Daisy along,” you pointed out, frowning innocently.
“I’m beginning to believe I allow you too many liberties, perhaps I ought to take you in hand,” He spoke suggestively, the meaning of his words not lost on you. His eyes were darkening, you were running out of time, if you were going to act it had to be now.
“Actually,” you leaned in.
All at once, you took over. In a speed even you hadn’t known you possessed, you snatched up your hair ribbons, which were already within arms reach, and shoved his wrists against the headboard, tossing one over the other and tied them to the spot, quickly and firmly. You prayed it was tight enough.
“I should like to take a few more liberties before the day is through,” your lips ghosted over his, your stomach lurched at the boldness of your actions but you held your composure.
“You devilish woman,” he pulled his head back from you, leaning against the pillow to look up at your handiwork. He survived the bonds for a moment but made no effort to yank free, instead he sighed.
“That was very clever of you darling,” he admitted, turning his gaze from his hands to meet you again. “But what do you plan to do now that you have me?”
“A great many things I should think,” you spoke boldly. You reached down and grasped his length, first loosely, then you tightened a bit, give him a few teasing strokes. You watched proudly as his already partially hard cock grew firmer in your grip, fully standing at attention now. Still in the first bloom of marriage, you hadn’t mastered his body yet. You were still learning the best ways to touch and tease. 
A few drops were beginning to collect at his tip so you swiped your thumb along his slit, collecting the moisture, the contact making him hiss. And then, feeling incredibly vulgar, you lifted your thumb to your mouth and licking slowly. Kylo let out a shameless moan in response, watching you with great interest. This was going very well indeed.
“And where might my sweet little wife get such a wicked idea from?” He quirked a brow, watching your hand work him. Even now, bound to the bed he looked calm and collected, and perhaps even somehow still in control. In fact, he looked almost as if he was lying in the garden of your country home, basking in the summer sun. 
You didn’t answer. He was fully and entirely erect now and so you pulled away, leaning up on his thighs and looking down at him with determination. Your hand slipped between your legs and you touched yourself, pushing two fingers inside of yourself and moving them in a sort of scissoring motion the way Kylo always did before he took you. It wasn’t the same of course, your fingers were smaller and you couldn’t work yourself open the same way, but you did your best given your position. 
“If you need help wife, you need but ask,” he chimed, watching you touch yourself. His demeanour was still collected but there was a hunger in his eyes, clearly you weren’t the only one who wished it was his fingers plunged inside of you.
“That’s quite alright husband,” you shook your head, pulling your fingers away and moving above him. You grasped him again aligning himself to your opening and taking a deep breath.
“Go ahead, darling.”
Perhaps he was asking you to hurry along because he was eager, but it was also possible his words were encouraging, and you couldn’t have him thinking you were nervous, so you briskly lowered yourself all the way down, filling yourself to the brim. You both moaned loudly at your action. 
You hadn’t been able to open yourself up as well as he does, so the stretch of him burned more deeply than you were used to causing you to wince. Being on top you knew you had all the time you would like to adjust, but you couldn’t give your husband the satisfaction of knowing how affected you were.
And so you adjusted slightly and, -consequential soreness be damned- you began rocking yourself on top of him, up and down. The third time you moved you went too far and he slipped out of you. You nearly cursed but instead you simply repositioned and tried again. 
It took you a few tries to set a rhythm, and Kylo, knowing when and when to not tease his wife, kept his amusement to himself as best he could while you gathered your bearings. Finally, you slipped into a fluid pattern, bouncing on top of him rather pleasantly.
Whenever Kylo bedded you, he fully sheathed himself with every single thrust, knocking against something deep inside of you, and he couldn’t help but notice that now that it was your turn you made sure to never drop all the way down. Not because you didn’t enjoy the feeling, he knew you liked it quite a bit, but rather he realised it was too intense for you to subject yourself to. 
It felt wonderful to have him this way, but it was taking quite a bit of energy to maintain your pace and you were beginning to develop a newfound sense of respect that he was able to ravish you so frequently and for so long. You knew you’d be able to finish this way, and you were fairly sure he could too, and so you willed yourself to carry on. It wasn’t until you begin to pant softly that Kylo couldn’t resist speaking up.
“You seem to be overexerting yourself, dear, shall I take over for you?” He cooed, his voice sweet and heavy like honey. It was a tempting proposition, to roll over and let him have you, but you finally held power in your grasps, and who knows when you might have it again?
“N-no,” you shook your head violently, picking up the speed even though your muscles were screaming, begging you to stop.
“Very well, come here then,” he nodded once, urging you toward him. You complied, sliding your hands further up his chest and leaning down to kiss him. Once he had your mouth on him he began to move beneath you, rocking up in time with you so that the next time you came down he slid farther inside of you knocking against your cervix making you screech his name, and then he did it again, and again.
“Touch yourself for me,” he groaned against your mouth. And so you did without thinking, having to shift in the process so you could reach, which only allowed him to further space to thrust up into you. You couldn’t believe it, he was topping from the bottom? 
“Oh Kylo!” you exclaim, jolting when your fingers found your own little bud.
“That’s it darling,” he groaned, his own composure beginning to cripple, “come with me.” Your chest tightened, your rocking had grown sloppy and he was doing the bulk on the work now, he pushed up into you once, twice more and then your world shattered. Your eyes squeezed shut and your head tilted back, your mouth falling ajar. You felt him finish inside of you, gushing around your walls. 
You were breathing heavily, even after the effects of your release had faded, feeling utterly and completely exhausted.
“That was excellent my love,” he spoke, and before you had the chance to free him, he tugged away from the bonds all on his own. The ribbons fell to the bed and you realised he had merely been allowing you to believe you had him subdued. He leaned up to wrap his arms around you, pulling you down to the bed. In instant, you were lying on your back and he on his side, holding you tenderly and wrapping you up in sheets. 
“But in the future, I should think it better suited if you were the one in bondage, dear wife.” He dropped a swift kiss on your cheek. “And we will be having a discussion later about your little trip.”
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lilsocksiswriting · 3 years
Text
Osamu(s)
Fandom: Haikyuu
Paring: Osamu X fem!reader X Future!Osamu 
Summary: On a stormy night, your boyfriend shows up at your door with his future self in two.
Warnings: No beta, Post time skip spoilers, minors DNI
Tags: dirty talk, masturbation, thigh fucking, voyeurism, overstimulation, crempires
Word Count: 4366
There was just something about tonight that made things feel amiss. it was smack dab in the middle of midterms week. Everyone was either studying, out at the bats drinking aways their dread, or like you trying to finish midterm papers. This makes the apartment complex you lived in quieter than usual which you don't mind at all. You can hear the heavy downpour of rain more clearly because of it too. You look up from the screen of your laptop to outside the window and at the street lamps below.  the rain dampens the street lights, limiting their reach,  and making them seem more like fairly glowing orbs. They add to the mysterious ambiance of the night.
A ding draws your attention back to your phone's screen has lit up with a banner of Osamu's name surrounded by grey hearts and stars
Osamu: babe?
Y/N: Hey bubs
Osamu: something weird happened
Y/N: Are you ok?
Osamu: yea. I was just getting in my head again.
Y/N: Oh no
Osamu: I know I'm sorry.
Y/N: you don't have to apologize. I'm not mad, it happens. I'm happy that you aren't keeping it to yourself this time.
Osamu: right, well as I was thinking was when the weird thing happened.
Y/N: and what is this weird thing?
Osamu: we're coming over
Y/N: what?
Osamu: is are coming over?
Y/N: what? Osamu what are you trying to say?
since Osamu only lived a floor above you in a studio apartment much like your own it didn't take long after his text for you to hear a knock on your door. When you open it you realize that 'is' wasn't a typo at all. 'is'  was Osamu's attempt at making a plural of I.
Standing in the doorway was the Osamu who knew and loved.  Board look slumped shoulders with hands stuffed in the pocket of the sweats he taken to wearing more often. Beside him was another man, more specifically another him. This Osamu was smirking in the same way Osamu still did from time to time, smug and relaxed, and stood a little straighter. Maybe even a little taller?  He dressed in black sort and jeans, like a uniform of some sort, that is close not his broads body.
"Well, aren't ya goin' to invite in sweetheart?" the other Osamu asks and you move aside.
When the door clicks shut it also clicks for you who exactly this Osamu is. who he has to be. You follow behind the present Osama down the small hallway that opens up into the rest of your apartment.  Older Osamu makes a b-line to your window to close the blinds while the other plops himself down on your couch making himself right at home leaning back and spreading his legs. if this was any other situation would have taken that as an open invitation to crawl onto his lap. Taking notice of the you-sized spot between his legs you also notice how the pair of sweats he wore were looking quite dingy. You wonder if he was heading into one of those weeks again where he barely slept, barely took care of himself, and stressed ate all your snacks. mid-terms week was definitely the kind of week where it would happen.
You give him that soft look but don't ask if he's been taking care of himself instead you ask, "He's for the future isn't he?"
Osamu nods seeming to not catch on the look or choosing to ignore it. "That's the weird thing that happened. He just sort of appeared."
The amazement that time travel existed and proof of that had now walk back over to stand in front of you right in front of you didn't cross your mind at first. What was crossing your mind was a series of questions.  It takes the rest of your body a minute to catch up to these racing questions and actually speak one out.
"We're still together right?"
Older Osamu's  laugh answers your question but he tells you anyway," I wouldn't be here if we weren't."
"And how exactly do we get you to from here back to where you belong, in the future."
"Tryin' to get rid of me already?" he cocks his head to the side teasing you. You look between present and future Osamu and find that neither seems bothered by the timeline consequences the older being here has. but hey guess that's anxiety for you.
"No, but why are you here? How are you here? How do we get you back so we don't fuck up the timeline?" you blurt out one question after the other to older Osamu and he just stands in front of you, thick arms crossing over his broad chest letting you get them all out.
The fact that neither of them seems to fully grasp the gravity of the situation infuriates you. "How are you two not freaking out about this?"
"Because one way or another he goes back after what happens tonight.”
you give the present version a questionable look. They definitely knew something that you didn't and weren't talking about it yet. "you two know something. What happens tonight?"
Instead of the present Osamu explaining, his older self tells you. "I don't really know how I get back but I do because he's still here," he points to himself," and I'm still for the future, a better version because of what happens tonight."
You don't miss the way his voice drops or how you notice him towering over you. You just try to focus on what they aren't telling you.
"What happens tonight?"  you repeat the question.
"I show my past self how much better he can be," The older Osamu explains but it still leaves out the answer you looking for.
The order Osamu goes on," You know I was at a pretty low point at this time in my life. I didn't think that I was ever goin' to amount to anything. I would always be a stick in my twin's shadow, I'd be the less attractive twin, I'd always be dealin' with some bad patch of acne or my clothes were never goin' fit right,  I'd always be sad like this. I never deserve you-"
"Ok," you cut him off. "Ok, I get it."
"He's not wrong ya know," you look over at the couch.
"I know... it's just hard to hear," you admit feeling guilty and ashamed for doing so. You want to be here for Osamu. You knew what he was going through since his twin got scouted for a pro team and you knew that you \ but that didn't make hearing how Osamu thought about himself anymore easy to hear. You were human. You loved Osamu. And sometimes it was hard to hear about problems of his that you didn't know how to make better.
"But that changes tonight. After tonight I get help, start seein’ a therapist.  I start plannin’ for a future instead of being convinced that I don’t have one. I start to rub the amazing relationship I have with you in my twin's face. I start to learn to stop hatin’ my body for changing," The order supplies.
you frown. "But what happens tonight?"
Older Osamu leaned in closer to you, very close. So close that you can feel his breath rolls off your skin as he tells you, "Tonight I show my younger self how good he's gonna  be able to fuck you in the near future ."
Well, damn. You weren’t expecting that. Mabey something a little closer to a heartfelt talk that would help Osamu out at this point of his life. This wasn’t to say that you were opposed to the idea. In fact, taking another look at the older version of your boyfriend, you were very ok with letting him rail you while the other watched. But someone about it felt wrong? More specifically it made you feel like it was something wrong.
The way the idea settles in your gut makes you turn your head slightly to look at the present version who’s still seated at the couch but sitting up a little straighter now.  Anxiously and hopefully waiting for your answer.
“Are you sure?”
He nods then adds, “But only if you want to.”
You very much want to, it’s just….” Would this even count as cheating or like being with someone else?”
The older Osamu chuckles putting his knuckles under your chin and guiding your face back to his. “Darlin’ we’re the same person.”
That seems to settle your nerves and you nod. “Ok then. Show us.”
A smile breaks out across the order’s face. His other arms loops around your waist pulling you fully into his broad frame. “That’s my girl.”
The older Osamu tastes just the same as the present. The only difference is that he’s a lot less shy about using his tongue. Hell, he’s a lot less shy about using his whole body, and you honestly love it. The more that older Osamu explores your mouth with his, the harder you can feel him getting in his pants. Pulled so tightly against him means that you can feel every little twitch his cock gives in reaction to every little noise you’re able to make. Eventually, you two have to pull away for air. Dizzy with lips swollen you rest your cheek against the order’s heaving chest and look at to the younger who is staring at you like he’s start stuck. It’s cute.
“See,” The older tells his younger self. “Look how dizzy you can make her when you aren’t second-guessing everything.”
If the older was going to be bold, then so were you. You smooth a hand down his stomach, past his belt buckle and grip and the budge below it.  All the while not taking your eyes off the present version of your boyfriend. This earns you a sharp intake of air from the older that comes out on a pleased exhale. “And don’t think for a minute that she doesn’t want all of you. Right darlin'? Look at you already tryin' to get at my cock.”
“You’re already hard.”
He nods. “And all for you.  All’ve ya done is be your pretty little self and I’m already achin’ for ya.”
You squeeze your thighs together. You love to be dotted on by Osamu. You had realized early on that you definitely had a praise kink but only when it came to Osamu.  With gentle hands, Osamu turns to the body so that you’re facing the present version.  A firm hold on your arms holds you in place as a hot mouth leaves sloppy kisses along your neck in just the right spots to keep you feeling light-headed. Those hands eventually move. Snaking up too to grope at your titis through your sweatshirt.  You go to squeeze your thighs together again, but suddenly there’s one less hand on your breast and a hand forcing your thighs apart.
“When she does that, squeeze her thighs together like that,  it means she’s getting riled up,” The older explains while pressing fingers into your clothes clit and rubbing at it causing you to squirm slightly. “Why don’t we show him how wet you are darlin’?”
You simply nod because you want to see too. You can feel how arousal that's collected between your folds, but you've never gotten wet so fast before. Osamu gives you a little kiss on the cheek and helps you slip out of your legging and underwear leaving you bare from the waist down.  You shiver both from your heated skin being exposed to the cool air of your apartment and the way that Osamu is staring from his spot on the couch/ The intensity of that look never fails to go straight to your groin.
One of older Osamu's hands dips between your spread thigh pushing through your folds. His fingers are a little rougher and that small difference feels so good. His fingers rub back and forth a few times, collecting your wetness as they go, before pulling them easy much to your dismay.
The older Osamu holds them up so that both you and his present self can see the strings of slick at connecting one digital to the other.
"Fuck," You both breathe.
Beyond the fingers, you can see Osamu relaxing into the couch and palming the crotch of his sweats
"'Samu, "You wine at both the older for him to touch you more and at the sight of the present touching himself.
"Aww,  you want me to keep touching you down there darlin'?" the older coos into your year.
"Please," You ask nicely not feeling the least bit ashamed since both you and the present Osamu seem to want exactly that.
"Don't you worry your pretty little head darlin',"  you feel warm hands slip up your sweatshirt.  "I'm gonna touch you plenty.  I can barely keep my hands off ya as is, but I wanna give my younger self a good view of how we make your body feel. So come off with the sweatshirt."
You do exactly as you told and strip out of your sweatshirt. You'd do anything to feel his fingers again. Osamu goes back to massaging your tits again, this time playfully rubbing your perk nippled between his fingers. Either Osamu wasn't telling you now you or at some point in the future, he loves playing with your boobs. You're only complaint was that he wasn't paying enough attention to the rest, more needing, parts of your body.
"Osamu, please~" you beg.
"See how easy it is to get her so needy?'
"Yea," the present Osamu nods his head stuffing a hand down his sweats.
"She just loves our touch that much. Right now if you were to ask she'd beg you to touch her, to fuck her, to do anything really, as long as it's us doing it,"  The older Osamu nudged your cheek with his nose making you crane your neck so that your lips are almost touching. " She's such a slutty little girl, " he says lower, "but she's our slutty girl, and we fucking love it."
Osamu's mouth is on yours again and there are fingers that aren't just rubbing your clit but now slipping inside. You moan into the older's mouth and buck your hips grinding against his hands.  You hear a low curse from the present Osamu.
"Well, shit you look like your dick's about to explode there. You're about to cum but you're trying to make it last because you can't last very long  after the first time can't ya."
A frustrated groan escapes the present Osamu's lips. He has the waistband of his sweats pulled down past his hips and his hand gripping the base of his flushed cock.  He looked just about as lost in pleasure as you but had retained some sense of himself to pay attention so that he can learn how to make you feel this good in the future.
"Don't fret though because you're going to be able to go for rounds. Y/N can barely keep up in the future. I usually leave her so fucked out by the end of the night, but I make sure to take good care of her. Treat her to a nice bath and some home-cooked food in bed after I wreck her cunt. "
"O-Osamu," the name tumbles out as your breath quickens, everything that hen man was doing and describing to his younger self was so fucking hot and heavenly sounding.
"Holy fuck."
"Right? See what you can do when you start the impossible is possible? " he then addresses you. "You want more darlin'?"
"Please~"
"holy fuck Y/N," the present Osamu moans slowly stroking  himself, "you sound so fucking good right now darlin'."
"That's what we love to hear," the older Osamu purrs. His hands leave your body but only for a moment to he unbuckles his pants and pull his dick free giving it a few pumps.  Then they're on you again, grabbing your hips and lifting you up just enough that you stand on your tippy-toes.
"Now I'm gonna need to you stay just like that and keep squeezing those pretty thighs together. Can ya do that for us, darlin'?"
when he uses that nickname in that pitch of voice? It was a power that the present Osamu didn't realize he had yet, and god helps you the day that he did because you would do just about anything when he say's 'darlin' like that. you nod your yea with a little 'yes' and you feel the older's hands move to a firm grip on your elbows.
When he roughly pulls you into him your eyes go wild. This was new. The older Osamu's thick cock slips in and out from between your thigh, each thrust making your whole body jolt.  Each time his hips meet the blunt head of his dick slips slang you slit and bumps against your slit making you see stars. All the while the present Osamu watches completely enthralled by the sight of his older self fucking your thighs. The way you titis are bouncing with every thrust, the way his older self is handing you like some treasured fuck toy, and those breathless moans you don't hold back, that's what he wants. He wants to be able to fuck you like that. He wants to be the only one to be able to make you feel the way you feeling right now. He just never thought he could until now. 
"Does it feel good darlin'?  The tip of my fat cock rubbing you like this?"
"y-yes!", answer as he paces quickens.
"Are you gonna cum like this? From me fucking your thighs while my younger self watches?"
you nod vigorously, the feeling of orgasm quickly building in your gut each time the tip of his dick meets your clit. You squeeze your thighs tighter your head lulls back when it finally washes over you.  
"Shit," Osamu curses in your ear as his hips sputter and he spills his cum between your thighs, "Shit, that's it darlin' keep squeezin' round me like that. Don't she look so cute?"
"You haven't even fucked her yet," the present Osamu comments making the older chuckles
"You ready to watch that?”
"God yes," Osamu breaths out looking so desperate to watch you get railed by his older self that it's downright adorable.
The older Osamu chuckles. He handles you like you don't weigh a thing to him lifting you up and laying you back down at the end of the bed. The way the couch is facing the present Osamu has a perfect side view of the two of you. You set yourself up on your elbows when the older steps away. He doesn't bother stripping, he simply pulled his tee-shirt over his head and pushed his jeans down a little more.
"Oh god," You moan because holy fuck you have never wanted Osamu as bad as you wanted him now. He stands to at the foot of your had hands on his hips and a lopsided smirk letting you admire him in what wasn't even his full glory.
This thing that really gets you is how much Osamu hasn't, or in this cane won't change. His body was mostly the same. There's some muscles mass you could see in his forearm, chest, and the way that he manhandles you. His tits are still nice and supple, just begging for you to leave hickies on, and a faint patch of hair grows along his sternum. Your eyes roam across his soft tummy that has the faintest outline of abs the closer you look. Following his thicker trail of hair below his navel leads to his erect cock standing tall and as proud as he is that’s glistening under the soft light in your wetness.
"See," he glances at his younger self and his voice softens. "She really does love us and our body. Every last bit of it. Even on the day when we don't."
He then turns back to you," Now are you ready for me to fuck you darlin'?"
"Yes," you answer and spread your legs that are dangling off the foot of your bed a little wider to accommodate him.
When Osamu pushes into you there's a familiar burn of yourself stretching around him. The older takes things slowly so that you feel every inch of him entering you. Once he's bottom out in you Osamu takes your legs and wraps that around his waist. 
Osamu's pace starts out slow and deep but doesn't stay this way for long. Soon your small apparent is filled with all sorts of lewd sounds. The loudest of which was the dull slaps of skin and squelching every time he thrusts back into you. They barely cover your breathless moans and high pitch whimpers. Both Osamu's are also being quite vocal. The present Osamu is cursing again as he bucks his hip and cums into his closed fist. Meanwhile, the older Osamu is grunting, jacking hammering into you.  You can barely keep up with the brutal pace the older's set. All that you can really do at this point is grab and claw at his shoulders for something to hang on to for dear life too.
"Oh fuck. Oh, fuck Dalrin' you're gonna make me cum. Yer just suckin' me in a like that- shit! cummin'! I'm cummin' Y/N," Osamu moans burying himself as deep as he can inside you and flooding you with his release. 
 Feeling yourself being filled with Osamu's cum pushes you over the edge.  Your walls flutters around his dick and thighs shake around his hips as you cum.
The order barely gives you time to catch your breath before he's calling for his younger self to switch places with him. The present Osamu is on his feet in an instant stripping out of his clothes on his way to you.  The other Osamu moves aside, setting down on the couch and relaxing his arms across the back of it.  He doesn't even bother to tuck his flaccid  cock back into his jeans or fix his shirt. He smiles at the scene before him.
Osamu is hunched over you so you can wrap your arms around his neck and pull him that much closer to you as he fucks you. Like his older self, the pace is fast and deep. You can try and buck your hips but they aren't in sync with his thrusts. The mess, the disorganized movements of the two of you make things hotter, more intense. You're cumming again with a pleasured sob and Osamu continues to fuck you through it reaching his own high.
And he doesn't stop. Your present boyfriend keeps his feet planted on the floor and keeps fucking into even when his cum is being to seep out of your stuffed hole. He pulls away just enough so that he can see your flushed and sweaty face that he cups in his hands. 
"One more yea"
your jaw trembles and the only words you can get out are incoherent so you nod. 
 A tired smile breaks out across his face. "That's my girl. Gonna make you f-feel so good. I'm going to make sure you always feel this good.  gonna stuff you so full of my cum~"
You cum right along with Osamu, letting out a silent scream to fucked to do anything else. You can feel his whole body shudder as he pulls out of you. You immediately feel a mixture of you, him, and maybe even his future self leak out of your spent cunt.  You feel him move you up the bed so that you can catch your breath while fully laying in your own bed with Osamu cuddled up next to you.
"Darlin'."
"Hmmm?" you hum eyes still closed.
"He's gone."
You peak an eye open and sure enough, the couch was empty now. You were too tired to really think about where the older Osamsua had gone but somewhere in your mind was the assumption that he went back to his own timeline in the future.
"Too tired and icky to care."
You feel fingers thread themself through you and massage your scalp. you lean into Osamu's touch and you're fully content to just lay here in the mess the two of them had made of you for the rest of the night.
"How about I run you a nice bath and we get cleaned up hmm? We can go back to my place and worry about your sheets tomorrow. "
"Will you cook for me?"
"Whatever ya want darlin'." 
 A few years down the road Osamu bursts into the apartment that you two share scaring the living hell out of you. "Fuck! Don't burst in like that."
"Sorry," he apologizes kicking off his shoes. "But it happened It finally happened."
"What happened?"
He strides over to the couch where you had been working on to laptop but set it aside and pulls you into his lap. He nuzzles his face into your neck and you can feel his wide smile on your skin. "That night during Junior year."
"We had lots of nights Junior.  Give me more than that." you request already thinking of your favorite nights spent with Osamu rather it was making an all-night drive just to watch the sunrise, nights where you went out in a group of friends and went home wearing his shoes or being carried on his back,  nights spent in eating his cooking, nights spent with his dick plugged into you...
"I made love to you while I watch."
"Ah that night," you smile, "The details are a little fuzzy, Mabey you can help job my memory after dinner with the team tonight?"
His arms tightened around your waist, "Oh, gladly darlin'."
more  my Haijyuu fics can be found here: Haikyuu collection
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mrpenguinpants · 3 years
Text
Childe/Tartaglia: “Enemies” to “Lovers”
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Aww, thank you 💕💕 All of you are so lovely ;-; Coming out from the bushes and attacking me.
Have you guy’s seen the Childe trailer? It’s in Chinese but holy shit I want him?? Who is Xiao anymore? WHAT ARE LOYALTIES??? I’m gonna ATTEMPT to roll for Childe. I love snake two faced characters so much.
I’ve never written for Childe before and there’s not a lot to go off on but I will try my best. Honestly, he’s like Dazai 2.0 for me lol.
I’m not sure what scenario you wanted but since I’m hard simping for this man, I made this a lot a bit self indulgent. I actually had a completely different idea so that’s where the enemies to lovers title comes from before I scrapped it. Now if you’ll excuse me, here’s your 2k words of food.
Update: Guess what? You’re getting a part 2. Don’t know when but now I have a taglist if you want to be added and tagged when it comes out 
---
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Childe/Tartaglia: “Enemies” to “[Lovers]”
Childe silently hops over the wall and onto the roof in the dead of night. The moon was shining high, casting dark shadows that he slips in between them as he eyes his destination. An open window leading to an important personnel. Usually, he would send an agent to observe, but once he learned who this secret person was, he decided to take it into his own hands. To stretch his muscles a bit. His hand quickly caught the edge of the window sill as he raises himself and drops into the spacious room. He whistles lowly as he looks around. This was a big room but it wasn’t that much of a surprise, considering who was staying here.
“Thank you, have a good night.”
His head perks up as he hears a voice and steps into the shadows of the room. He can faintly make out an outline of a body behind the sliding doors and stands back, out of sight. He watches as the doors slowly open and the person he’s been looking for steps in. One of the leaders of the Qixing. As soon as the door’s close behind you, your shoulder’s finally relaxed before turning around to walk to the other end of the room where a large mirror was placed. You loosen the pin holding your clothes up, finally ready to get rid of these heavy clothes. He quickly averts his eyes but your voice once again breaks the silence.
“Do you make it a habit of watching others without their knowledge or are you going to say something?” you ask as you turn around as your eyes roam around what appeared to be an empty room. He weighs his options before shrugging and stepping out into the moonlight with his arms raised in mock surrender.
“I swear I would look away. I’m a bad guy but I’m not one of those types. I promise!” He laughs casually despite the circumstance, “I’m surprised you noticed me. But I suppose one of the Qixing would be capable of such an act.”
“Oh no, you were perfect. You just came at a bad time. But who are you? You don’t act like an agent” you eyed him carefully as you fiddled with your pin.
“I’m Childe, one of the Fatui’s Eleven Harbingers,” he replies giving a mock bow in your direction. He watches your reaction to see if you’ll panic and call for the Millelith. Instead, you simply nod along and you’ve stopped fiddling with the pin on your clothing.  
“Ah, I’ve met a few of you Harbingers. You don’t look like one” you remarked as you turn around once again to finally undo the pin. Childe quickly turns his gaze away as you settle the heavy clothes on the table to fold. You pull your inner clothes closer to yourself to keep warm in the chilly room.
“I’m a bit too young to see their way of thinking. So I don’t fit in well with them,” he shrugs unbothered. He’s never liked the other Harbingers anyways, “I wasn’t aware that the Qixing had other leaders present.”
“Well, the Qixing prefer to keep things somewhat discreet-”
“Yaoguang? Is everything alright? We heard voices,” one of the Millelith cuts you off as both Childe and your eyes dart to the paper screen door. Childe steps silently towards the window sill, ready to escape if needed. He would have to do a lot of unnecessary explaining if he were caught and the Qixing were already suspicious of the Fatui.
“Yes, I’m alright. I haven’t heard anything at all. Are you sure you are alright? Maybe you should rest,” you quickly walk to the door and slide it open just enough for the Millelith to see your face. The Millelith shakes his head and quietly apologizes for disturbing you before leaving.
“That looks like my cue to go, it’s getting pretty late anyway,” Childe smiles as he ducks under the window sill and gives a small wave back to you.
“Have a good night Childe.”
“You too, Yaoguang.”
---
“Don’t you think the Qixing are a bit too secretive?”
You turn around to see Childe sitting on the window sill as he ponders the thought. His right leg is resting on his left knee as his arm hold’s his chin as he stares at the wall in front of him. You give him a quick once over before going back to what you were doing, polishing your pin.
“Are you sure one of the Fatui should be saying that? Your organization plays with deceit and trickery” you laugh quietly to yourself as you place your pin in a old wooden box. It looked out of place in the room with the crude drawings and chipped paint, but Childe thought it suited you.
“Hey, I don’t agree with those methods at least! I’m here in front of you, aren’t I? But what about you? Aren’t you keeping me a secret from the Qixing?” he grins mischievously as he directs his attention onto you. Your back to still to him but he can watch your face in the reflection of the mirror. He’s not sure if he should commend you on your relaxed expression or the fact that he could easily kill you with your back turned.
“Mm, perhaps. But I enjoy this. You may not believe me but I think of you as a friend Childe. A personal secret of mine.” you say amused as you look up into the reflection of the mirror and manage to catch his surprised expression before it disappears.
“A friend? We’ve barely known each other,” he looked at you incredulously but with a wry smile, “I might seem nice but I’m still a bad guy.”
“A lot of people in Liyue don’t appear as they seem. But I don’t consider all of them as bad people. Don’t you think so Childe?”
He doesn’t say anything. You never mention it again.
---
“I have a younger sister who is an astrologist,” you say as you’re lying back on the bed while he sits on the window sill, “she’s the one that gave me this pin except her pin is red with the star and moon.”
You held the pin up for him to take and look for himself. He slips off the window sill and walks to your lying figure to take hold of it. It was a blue pin with a star in the center and the sun’s rays lining the edges of the rim. It was a bit worn but it was in incredibly good condition. He’s seen how you look at the pin so he’s not surprised.
“Astrology huh? Aren’t you Qixing named after the Big Dipper’s stars?” he asks as he hands the pin back to you and watches your eyes take a childlike gleam. He huffs a bit amused under his breath, you always seem to get like this whenever he let’s you ramble about stars.
“Yes, Yaoguang is translated from the Alkaid star. Alkaid derives from the Arabic phrase meaning "The leader of the daughters of the bier". The daughters of the bier are the three stars of the handle of the Big Dipper, Alkaid, Mizar, and Alioth. While the four stars of the bowl, Megrez, Phecda, Merak, and Dubhe, are the bie,” you ramble on making different gesture as you continue your mini lecture, “Tianquan and Yuheng are the stars Megrez and Alioth. They are here in Liyue too but Tianquan will be the one that preforms the Rite of Descension. It feels as if I’m attending my sister’s talent show even if Tianquan is older than me.”
“Hm, I’ve never looked into studying the stars. I’m more of a fighter,” Childe comments as he hears you laugh that you’re not surprised. He looks towards the moon and see’s it’s his time to leave. You give him a small wave as he starts back to the window sill before giving a small comment over his shoulder.
“You know I also have a younger sister.”
“Is she aware of what you do Childe?”
“No, of course not. Does your sister know what you do?”
“No, she doesn’t know either.”
---
“Can I see your mask?”
He unstraps it from his head and hands it to you as he watches you run your finger around the intricate details before moving it over your face. You’re both seated on the bed this time beside each other.
“I don’t understand how you can fight wearing this,” you say as you squint your eyes through the opening of the mask. He chuckles softly at the weird expression before plucking his mask out of your hands.
“Hm? I thought the Qixing were capable fighters?” he asks as he reattaches the mask to the side of his head. He rest’s his chin back onto his hand and settles back into his comfortable position.
“Yes, Tianquan uses the geo element while Yuheng uses electro,” you list off on one hand.
“What do you use?” he asks.
“Who knows” you answer.
He pouts a bit which you have to stifle your laugh at. It’s somewhat amazing how far he’s gone with this. He’s pretty busy managing business behind the scenes and getting on friendly terms with that funeral parlor man, Zhongli was it? Yet, he finds himself back here whenever he get’s a free night.
“I’m sorry for laughing but I never thought you could make such an expression. But I’m being honest. I can’t use a vision so I don’t know,” you shrug as you lie back down and close your eyes. Childe nods along even though you can’t see him. He had always thought the pin you carried was your vision until you let him hold it for himself.
“If you joined the Fatui. We could give you a vision,” he says as his gaze almost pierces through you but you continue to look unbothered. Your eye’s still remained peacefully closed.
“It’s the night before the Rite of Descension. It will be a busy day so you should get some rest before then Childe”
---
It was the day of the Rite of Descension and he had yet to see you. He knew you would be observing but wouldn’t you at least be at a vantage point where you could view the entire ritual?
“Excuse me, have you seen the Yaoguang?” he asks one of the Qixing attendants but she only looks at him confused. He’s not that surprised about that either.
“Yaoguang? I’m sorry but that leader isn’t here in Liyue right now. Did you mean to ask for Tianquan Lady Ningguang perhaps?” she attempts to correct as she gestures to the middle of the stage, where the white haired woman was standing.
“Yaoguang isn’t here? They haven’t appeared at all these past few weeks for the Rite of Descension to observe?” he asks again but the lady shook her head as he chuckled. So not even people closest to the Qixing knew that one of their leaders was being impersonated.
“Oh, sorry. Yes, I meant for Tianquan Ningguang. Sorry, these star names are a bit hard to wrap my head around” he laughs it off before walking away before the lady has time to respond.
“She is busy preparing for the Rite of Descension so she won’t be seeing anyone anytime soon. Perhaps after the ceremony if it’s urgent?” she still calls out to him before going back to her responsibilities.  
Tartaglia nods as he waves goodbye before continuing on. He never cared for the Rite of Descension but maybe today will be interesting. He spots two familiar faces in the crowd trying to get to the front to see the Rite of Descension. They seem to be friends. He laughs to himself as he reminisces all your past interactions with him. He’ll find out sooner or later who this mysterious Yaoguang impersonator is. After all, the walls have ears.
---
Part 2 perhaps? Depends on the feedback I get on this. I read about the big dipper for this fic. 
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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years
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Stars in the Night Sky
Day 3, Story #2 is by @adenei
Title: Stars in the Night Sky
Author: adenei
Pairing: Jily (James Potter x Lily Evans)
Prompt: Stargazing
Rating: PG
TW: None :)
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The castle is peaceful as it nears midnight, a calm surrender to the usual bustling halls during the day. Rounds ended over an hour ago, but the quick pair of footsteps was not rushing through a late shift, they were on their way to the Astronomy Tower to meet their partner and begin Professor Sinistra’s constellation project. 
Allocation of the work was all in the luck of the draw. Where one half of the class drew a name, and the other pulled the astronomical phenomenon they were to study. Lily Evans had pulled the piece of parchment on stars and constellations, and according to the project’s outline, she and her partner would be tracking Orion, Cassiopeia, Gemini, and Canis Major for the next two weeks.
The project left Lily questioning why she chose to pursue the subject after passing her O.W.L.s. Maybe it was because she has always been fascinated by the subject, or maybe it’s for the sole fact that Astronomy is one of the subjects she can discuss with her family since it relates closely to muggle sciences. Regardless, she’s not sure it’s worth the lack of sleep she’s about to endure over the next few weeks.
As Lily climbs the steps of the Astronomy Tower, her heart thunders in her chest with anticipation about who her partner will be. The class is small, with only ten students, but she didn’t bother to hang around and discuss ‘who had who’ at the end of class. She had a meeting with Professor McGonagall about her Head Girl duties and couldn’t be bothered to worry about who her partner was. 
But now, after finding out through Mary that she’s been paired with Remus and Sirius pulled Benjy Fenwick’s name, Lily is nervous. Rumblings at dinner also confirmed that Calliope Forsythe of Hufflepuff was disappointed that she chose Bridgette Marls’s name instead of James’s, leaving Lily sweating the remaining possible outcomes. She doesn’t want to jinx it by getting her hopes up that James may have pulled her name out of the cauldron, and she’s mad at herself for wanting it so desperately.
We already spend enough time together with our Head duties. Plus, we’re friends now, so we can hang out whenever we like...just not alone.
Her last thought is only a partial lie, considering they’re ‘alone’ when creating schedules for rounds, but it never fails that some fifth or sixth-year students are always barging in to use the Prefect’s lounge to study, ruining any potential chance for either to make a move. Even when they’re on rounds, their conversation is constantly interrupted by catching a couple in a broom closet or empty classroom. 
Lily lets out a huff of frustration as she recalls the last time, when she was sure he was about to ask her to Hogsmeade, but then there was a loud clatter from a room up ahead, breaking the moment. So really, it’d be ideal if James were her partner for this project. She’s sick of the song and dance they’ve been playing since the start of term and wants nothing more than to find out whether he still fancies her or not. After all, it’s only a matter of time that some other girl will swoop in, causing his devilishly handsome smile to be trained on them instead.
As Lily approaches the foot of the stairs leading up to the observation room, she checks her watch. 11:59. Right on time. She holds her breath during the entire stair climb, and only when she rounds the corner to the dimly lit area with one singular candle on the table to take notes, does she see him. He’s leaning over the table, the light illuminating his messy black hair as his glasses slip down his nose. The sleeves on the white shirt of his uniform are rolled up to his elbows, exposing the sinewy muscles of his forearm as Lily stands there, getting lost in a daydream that finds those arms wrapped around her body.
The hoot of an owl in the distance snaps her out of her thoughts as she takes a few steps closer.
“I hope you haven’t started without me.” 
Lily’s light chiding gets James’s attention as a wide smirk dons his face. Her insides tremble as her heart pounds faster in her chest.
“How can I get started if I don’t know what we’re supposed to be looking at,” he remarks, eliciting a nervous laugh from her chest.
“Yeah, sorry for not sticking around after class. I had another appointment.”
“Well, I hope my reveal isn’t too much of a shock.”
“Better you than Mulciber or Avery,” she teases. “Why didn’t you ask Professor Sinistra what topic I pulled after you gave your information and got our timetable?”
James walks around the table to join her as she pulls out the project guidelines. She assumes he would have known what they were studying, considering everyone had to check-in and get their schedules from Professor Sinistra. Depending on what the group has chosen, their research times varied.
“Because I thought we were going for the surprise factor,” his cheeky grin matches the lightness in his voice. “Besides, I figured it’d be another excuse to pore over the parchment in close proximity.”
Lily searches the space next to her to see just how close James is before meeting his gaze. She becomes dizzy from the scent of his cologne, with hints of cinnamon and sandalwood invading her sense of smell. If she gives in to temptation now, they won’t accomplish anything on their first night.
Work first, play later.
Strengthening her resolve, Lily makes a swift turn and heads for the telescope. “We’re responsible for tracking the four constellations that are listed on the first page. I’ll see which one I can find first and we’ll go from there. We can take turns tracing, and observing if that’s alright with you.”
“Sure, I’ll get the parchment set up,” James agrees.
Lily’s not sure, but she thinks she may have heard a hint of disappointment in his tone. She pushes the thoughts aside and peers into the massive telescope that’s bolted down in the center of the room. It doesn’t take long to find Jupiter, and from there, she’s able to see a handful of the stars that make up Orion. The belt is the most prevalent as she takes mental notes to transfer on the paper.
Settling into a steady hum of working together, the pair take turns between the telescope and table, making light work of the night’s observations. When Lily checks her watch again, she realizes they’ve finished with time to spare. She wanders over to the railing, and even though she’s spent the better part of the last ninety minutes studying the stars, she finds herself looking up to the sky once more. Only this time, she’s stargazing with only the naked eye. 
She feels James approaching before he arrives at her side, gazing up at the twinkling stars among the backdrop of black and midnight blue.
“We make a pretty good team.” Her voice is soft as it carries through the air between them.
Lily’s exhaustion is prevalent as her eyelids become heavier, but she can’t be bothered to move away from James’s side. Not yet, anyways.
“You haven’t gathered that from our flawless round schedules and seamless Prefect meetings we’ve run so far as Heads?”
Lily can’t help the smile that creeps across her lips. He’s playing into her words in the exact way she was hoping for. “Of course, I’ve noticed. I was just thinking out loud…” she trails off, hoping she’s got him hooked and wanting to know what else she’s about to say.
“About what?” Barely a second passes before the question leaves his mouth.
She drags her teeth over her bottom lip as she looks up at him. Here goes nothing.
“Just about how our teamwork might work in other respects, too.”
His lips part as she hears a sharp intake of breath. “Evans,” he warns as he inches ever closer to her face.
“Potter,” she challenges right back.
They are mere centimeters away from each other now, and it’d be so easy to close the gap between them. James seems to have frozen in front of her as she finds herself leaning up on her tiptoes to press a feather-light kiss to his lips. She pulls away, not wanting to push her luck.
When he doesn’t move after she pulls away, her heart sinks. Lily grabs her bag and turns to head back to the common room. Clearly, I was mistaken.
“Sorry, I just thought—” but she never finished her apology.
Her foot grazes the top step of the staircase before a warm, strong hand wraps around her wrist and pulls her back, where she hits a wall of muscle. Her lips are on his again, and this time he’s kissing her back as her arms snake around his shoulders and her foot lifts off the ground of its own accord. 
James Potter is kissing me!
The moment only lasts a few moments before they pull apart, their breathing heavy under the starry night.
James breaks the silence after a minute. “So, er, Hogsmeade this weekend?”
Lily grins as she backs away slightly, leaving him standing there as she heads toward the stairs for the second time. She flashes a ‘come and get me’ look. 
“I thought you’d never ask.”
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ikeromantic · 3 years
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In the Spotlight
A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction, approx. 1700 words. This scene occurs after the events of the romantic epilogue and includes some of what happens in the part 2 introduction. Mostly fluff!
First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden
Previous: Uncomfortable Questions
Kyubei bowed low and held the position. It wasn’t his first time to report to Nobunaga, but it was his first time to do so without explicit instructions from his lord. He was nervous, but it didn’t show. Kyubei could hold an icy composure as well as Akechi.
“Report.” Nobunaga’s tone was flat, hiding his own frustration.
Hideyoshi and Masamune weren’t trying to hide theirs. The one-eyed dragon was pacing and Toyotomi’s scowl could have peeled paint.
“There is no evidence,” Kyubei cleared his throat, “that the forces at Kasugayama are involved in the attacks on Azuchi. However -” he paused. This was the part that made him sweat. “The disappearance of Lord Akechi and the lady chatelaine coincide with the vanishing of their ninja, Sarutobi Sasuke.”
“I don’t believe it.” Masamune stopped, one hand dropping to his sword hilt. “There’s no way that ninja got the drop on Mitsuhide.”
Hideyoshi nodded. “Agreed. My guess is that they are working together.”
Kyubei interrupted. “I find that unlikely, my lord. At least, in the manner you suggest. If I may?”
Nobunaga indicated he should continue.
“My sources tell me Shingen Takeda is ill, and between the loss of his ally and his ninja, Kenshin is unstable. Seeking conflict within his own forces as well as outside. It is unlikely he is aiding Kasugayama. Though he must have known Sarutobi's absence might . . .” He frowned, wondering how much he should imply, what he could suggest.
Ieyasu saved him the need. “Mitsuhide was making plans for an extended absence. I think we should consider that he has left, with Sasuke, to visit the chatelaine’s homeland.”
Mitsunari nodded. “This would make sense. There could be something about the events of the night he disappeared that forced them to leave sooner than he expected.”
“There’s more to it, and if I know that snake -” Hideyoshi’s rant was cut short by Nobunaga’s raised hand.
“Enough. I did not wish to bare Akechi’s secrets, but Ieyasu is correct. Mitsuhide sought my permission to take the chatelaine to her home. He was uncertain how long they would be gone.”
The room exploded with sound, warlords talking over one another. Hideyoshi was ranting about safety and plots; Masamune demanded permission to seek them out. Keiji was laughing. Ieyasu and Mitsunari were relatively silent, waiting for the excitement to die down.
Nobunaga’s carnelian eyes quieted each man in turn.
When he could be heard again, Kyubei continued. “I made contact with Ranmaru. He is seeking out the forces responsible for the attack on Azuchi, along with other spies in our network.”
“Ranmaru? That boy is afraid of his own shadow. Completely unreliable,” Hideyoshi muttered, not unkindly. “He should be here.”
Kyubei couldn’t help the slight smile at that. He didn’t approve of Ranmaru’s tangled loyalties, but one could not argue with his ability to act a part. “Of course, my lord. But Ranmaru insisted. And he does have many friends to rely on for information.”
Ieyasu stood. “This doesn’t answer my questions though. Where is the chatelaine? Is she safe? When will she return? We all know Akechi has his . . . plans. I’m not worried about him. He’ll turn up when and where he wants to. But she’s -”
“You’re worried about her!” Mitsunari beamed. “I knew you were just trying to hide it when you told me-”
“Shut up.” Ieyasu glared. “I’m just . . . the enemy could use her against us. We need to know where she is.”
“Agreed,” Masamune spoke up. “I will put together a team. We’ll find her.”
“My lords, I am afraid she and Mitsuhide are beyond any team.” Kyubei sighed. “The greater concern is what this impacts and how it will be used against us. The Ikko Ikki are moving. The Mouri clan have resumed pirating, and we know it was Kichou that executed the attack on Azuchi. In addition, we have rumors the shogun in exile is drawing a new following.”
Mitsunari frowned. “Yes, I reviewed several shipment records and troop movements from old loyalist daimyo. It appears we are not done with the shogun as of yet.”
Kyubei bit his lip. The scribe they’d installed should have been satisfied to live in luxurious exile, but it seemed the old shogun’s loyalist stirred his greed. Or maybe they were using him as a puppet. He had no way to know, as the spies in Ashitaka’s court had all fallen silent.
Nounaga spoke again. “Hideyoshi, you and Keiji will pursue the Mouri. Masamune, I want you to make contact with Kasugayama. Offer a truce. See what they can offer up about their missing ninja. They may be willing to hunt down our enemies with us, as it does them no benefit to see this land descend into chaos.” His gaze fell on Ieyasu. “You will join Kyubei’s efforts to track down Mitsuhide and the chatelaine. Your research and his current knowledge will yield results.”
“May I assist Lord Tokugawa?” Mitsunari’s innocent smile could have been worn by an angel. He was completely oblivious to the sudden grimace on his friend’s face.
“You may, in your spare time. I need your mind fixed on calculating provisions, troop movements, bridges, and roads. There will be fighting soon.”
Mitsunari acquiesced with a bow.
Kyubei delivered the rest of his report, and then was dismissed. He went straight to the Akechi mansion and opened a bottle of sake. Alcohol was a vice he rarely indulged in, but today he felt like he needed it. He’d exposed some of his lord’s business without permission. He had no idea how or if this would impact Akechi’s plans. And now . . . he’d be working with Ieyasu. It would be difficult to keep the secrets he needed to keep.
He kept drinking until the room spun and the lights all wore halos. Kyubei might have kept it up, but he ran out of bottles and couldn’t make the walk to fetch more. Instead, he fell asleep, sprawled out on the floor of his lord’s office.
***
Mitsuhide felt a mix of relief and distress when his little one explained the plastic stick on the bathroom counter. It meant they were not having a child together. Not yet, at any rate. And this was good. He was in no position here to father a child. But . . .
The image of himself holding a child. His. Hers. His heart felt too big for his chest, thinking of what such a child would be like. His very own son or daughter. One with his love’s sweetness. His eyes. Her nose. His perception. It made him ache, as if he had an old bruise, a wound that hadn’t healed. Which was completely irrational.
He looked out the train window at the rapidly passing countryside. Trees. Hills. Houses. Different and not so different from the world he knew. He should be spending this time planning the next few days, not moping. Kitsunes did not mope.
“Are you ok? Are you nervous?” His little mouse put her hand on his leg, comforting.
“Yes and yes.” Mitsuhide turned his head to give her a sideways smile. “I have never had to meet the parents of my betrothed.” He had expected Nobunaga to marry a woman to him for political purpose. Some well-bred woman who knew how to run a house and had courtly manners. A woman he would never love, but could put up with, at a distance. Yet here he was.
She laughed. “It will be ok, really. I talked to okaasan and she is excited to meet you. She’s happy for us.”
“And you father?” Mitsuhide raised an eyebrow.
“I’m sure he’ll get used to the idea. He’s just . . . to him, I’m still a little kid. But I’m sure once he sees us together, he’ll come around.”
Mitsuhide was less certain about that. He’d known several fathers and they fell into two categories, most of the time. There were the men who could care less about their children beyond their use to the clan. And there were the men that treated their children as things of wonder. Not that they coddled them - but they cared. About their education, their work, their friends. He was sure his lover’s otousan fell into that second group.
The train stop came sooner than he might have liked. The two of them disembarked. There were only a handful of people getting off the train here, so it was easy to spot her parents.
They were dressed conservatively. Her father was a little shorter than Mitsuhide, and a little thicker around the middle. His greying hair was thin on top, and he wore glasses. Her mother was small and wore a smile he would have known anywhere.
The parents caught sight of them at about the same time Mitsuhide’s study of them finished.
“Otou-chan! Okaasan!” His little mouse flung herself across the platform, and was swept up in a hug from both sides. Tears ran down her face, and her cheeks were stretched in a wide smile.
Mitsuhide felt out of place in this moment of familial warmth. He had no such experience himself, and did not want to intrude either way. He stood quietly, holding their bags. Waiting as they exchanged hugs, kisses, and stammered apologies and explanations. As if they could make up for half a year apart in a few minutes.
Her father finally looked up and met Mitsuhide’s eyes. His were dark and suspicious. Protective. “You.”
His little one smacked his arm. “Be nice, papa. This is my fiancé, Mitsuhide. Mitsuhide, this is my father, Minoru, and my mother, Youko.”
Mitsuhide bowed low. “I am pleased to meet you both.”
Her father didn’t reply, but her mother did. “We are so glad to meet you too! It was such a surprise . . . our little girl . . . disappearing and then -”
“And then coming back with a weird boyfriend,” her father interrupted.
Oh yes. This was already going very well. Just as expected. Mitsuhide straightened and put on his best ‘trust me’ smile. “If there were any way we could have done it differently, I promise we would have. I hope we’ll be able to lay any worries you have to rest.”
She stepped over to his side and took his arm. “Yes, I plan on explaining everything.” His little mouse was the one to look nervous now. And no wonder. After much discussion, they’d decided on telling her family a version of the truth.
In fact, Sasuke and Miyake were supposed to come out the following day to provide backup evidence for their story. But even with that, they were asking her parents to accept a lot all at once. Mitsuhide did not see their chances of success as being very high, but for her, he would try anything.
Next: Bonding
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earlgreydream · 3 years
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drive-in.
| 1940s!bucky barnes x reader | fluff | smut |
40s Bucky for the good vibes 🌻
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You squealed as arms wrapped around your waist from behind, giggling at your boyfriend. Bucky hugged you back against his chest, the buttons of his soldier jacket pressing into your back.
“I’ve missed you, doll.”
The song on the record player changed, and he pulled the fruit out of your hand. You were giggling as he took your hands and began to dance with you int the kitchen to the big band music floating from the record in the corner. Bucky watching you lovingly as you twisted, your skirt fanning out before he tugged you back into his body, catching you expertly. You were being spun around and dipped nearly to the floor, Bucky kissing you dramatically.
“Don’t drop me!” You gasped, your arms around his neck tightening as he set you back on your feet.
“Of course not.” He feigned offense at the accusation, and you shook your head with a smile.
He went to change out of his uniform, leaving you in the kitchen where you’d been slicing fruit before he’d swept you off your feet.
“Honey, we’ve got to leave soon,” you called, reminding him of your plans.
The two of you had planned to go to a drive-in movie. You’d been so busy the last few weeks, you’d hardly spent any time together, and you’d calendared a date night.
“Soon it is, then.” Bucky walked back out, picking up a strawberry and biting into the fruit, juice bleeding out onto his lips. You leaned in to kiss him, smiling at the taste.
“We could have a date night in?” Bucky suggested, his hands snaking around your waist to reach down and grab your ass, squeezing with his large hands.
“Nice try,” you giggled, and he winked at you, slapping you over your skirt as you pulled away. It caused your breath to hitch in your throat, and your cheeks turned rosy. You put away the fruit and cleaned your knife before following him to the yellow car he drove around.
He was leaning against the side, muscular arms crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his white button down rolled up to his elbows. He grinned when he saw you, making butterflies flutter inside of you.
He opened the door for you and you climbed inside, giggling as his hand ‘accidentally’ brushed over your chest. He shot you a cheeky smile before walking around the other side and getting into the drivers seat.
Bucky was maddeningly gorgeous, and you were getting worked up by just his teasing. You second guessed his offer to stay home as you watched the veins in his hand raise and his muscles flex as he shifted gears while driving.
“Are you alright, doll?” Bucky teased, knowing perfectly well that there were sinful thoughts running through your head as you watched his every move.
“Mhm,” you hummed, nodding and shifting in your seat. A mischievous smirk flashed across his face, and he brought his hand to rest on your thigh, lightly squeezing you.
Your breath hitched in your throat as his hand glided dangerously higher. He pulled off to switch gears, a proud smirk adorning his face.
He pulled into the drive in, and you blushed as he pulled you against his side, his arm around your waist. His fingers mindlessly traced your side as the movie began, and you struggled to focus as his touch brushed the underside of your breast.
He kissed the side of your neck, his lips warm and soft against your skin.
“Paying attention?” Bucky teased, and you tried to watch the movie and ignore the way he was touching you. It was nearly impossible, though you knew the two of you couldn’t get away with having sex in the lot, someone could look in the window and see you. 
You sat properly beside him, watching the characters on screen, and Bucky studied the way the light made your face glow. You turned to smile at him, and Bucky smiled, admiring the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. He was horny from how reactive you were to his touch, and the way you’d been checking him out all night. He was determined to get you to fall apart, deciding that you were going to be adventurous and get each other off in the yellow car, in this drive-in lot. 
You squirmed every once in a while, and your eyes left the screen in front of you when Bucky’s hand moved higher to squeeze your breast through the material of your top. You couldn’t stop the whimper from leaving your lips, and Bucky knew he’d won. 
Bucky watched your eyes close as he undid the buttons of your top, squeezing your skin and lightly tugging at the sensitive buds. He watched you shiver, and look over your shoulder anxiously.
“Someone could see.”
“Nobody’s watching, doll,” he promised, kissing down your jaw. You tried to force yourself to sit still and watch the film, but Bucky wasn’t having it. He’d abandoned your chest, fixing your buttons, and you thought maybe he’d gained some sense. 
Your eyes widened when he decided to lift your skirt instead, resting his hand on the inside of your thigh. You did your best not to squirm, but as his hand slowly inched higher, you pushed your hips forward a bit.
“Bucky, I need something,” you breathed, and he raised an eyebrow.
“You can have whatever you want, doll.”
“I want to suck you off,” you whispered, and he whipped around to look at you.
“You’re joking,” he fought back a grin, praying you meant it.
You shook your head and he kissed you quickly, ecstatic at the idea. Bucky had been thinking about your pretty lips wrapped around him all night, and he could’ve sworn he was dreaming now. 
“Please, Bucky,” your words were hushed but urgent, and your fingers were trembling as you tried to undo his belt. 
“Easy, doll,” Bucky laughed, helping you undo the belt and shove his trousers down around his knees. You pulled your lower lip between your teeth and your mouth practically watered at the sight of him. 
You got on your knees beside him, and you wrapped your hand around his cock, gently stroking a few times before going down on him. 
You wrapped your lips around the rosy head, running your tongue over his lip, immediately drawing a moan out of your boyfriend. His hand smoothed down your back before grabbing your ass as you teased his tip. His other hand went to the back of your head, threading his fingers into your hair to guide you, and he gently pushed you down further onto him. 
You did your best to open your throat, your mouth feeling full. He brushed against the back of your throat, and you moaned around him, making him accidentally thrust his hips up, burying himself in your throat. You managed not to choke around him, hollowing your cheeks.
“Fuck, doll, you’re so good to me-” Bucky’s strangled praise was like music to you. 
Pleasing Bucky was turning you on even more, making your mind cloud with arousal as you focused on him. The feeling of his hand in your hair was dominating, and your eyes rolled back when he tugged lightly, relishing in the control he had over you. 
You moaned around him again when his fingers dipped into your panties, teasing your clit and dragging through your folds. The vibrations of the noises around him had Bucky struggling not to fuck your throat, and he guided your head to bob up and down. 
“That’s it, pretty girl,” Bucky praised you, and you hummed as his fingers pumping in and out of you brushed against your g-spot, making you see stars. You pulled up some on Bucky, focusing on teasing his tip, using one of your hands to squeeze and drag along the rest of his length that wasn’t in your mouth. 
“Y/N, fuck, I’m going to come doll, please,” Bucky practically whined, and you cried out as your own orgasm hit you, his fingers buried deep inside of you still. 
He pushed your head down and spilled into your throat, forcing you to swallow. You did your best not to let any of his release drip out of your lips, swallowing everything as you pulled off. He dropped your skirt back into place, and you grabbed his wrist, putting his sticky fingers into your mouth, sucking yourself off of them. 
“Oh my god,” Bucky’s silver eyes were blown out with lust and his chest was heaving from the intensity of the orgasm and you taking it. 
You were blushing shyly as you knelt next to him, and he grasped your collar. Bucky pulled you into a rough kiss, his tongue gliding along yours, not caring that you’d just suckd him off. You broke away to catch your breath, and he kissed your cheek, praising you for how wonderful you made him feel and how pretty you looked pleasing him. 
Bucky slid his trousers back up, fixing himself and leaning his head forward on the wheel. You giggled, running your fingers through his brown hair, making a tired smile pull at his lips.
“You’re too good to me,” he mumbled, squeezing your thigh as he peeked up at you.
You looked up to see the movie was ending, and you didn’t care that you’d missed the ending, and most of the middle to be honest. Bucky was amused as he drove home, stopping for ice cream on the way. The two of you sat on a bench outside, and he kissed creamy vanilla off of your mouth. 
His lips were cold as he kissed your neck, making you squeal and shy away, shivering. He put his army jacket on you, wrapping an arm around your back and kissing the side of your head as you sat outside in the night.
“I’ve missed you,” Bucky confessed, and you smiled.
“I’ve missed you. We should have a date every week,” you agreed, and he bit back a smirk. 
“We definitely will if it means I get that kind of treatment.”
You blushed when he said it, despite feeling confident enough to suck him off in a crowded parking lot in the car. He teased you for being shy, kissing your cheek sweetly. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll return the favor and eat your sweet little cunt next time,” he breathed in your ear, sending a hot shudder of anticipation through your entire body. 
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