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ssentimentals · 9 months

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truly, madly, deeply {xu minghao}

pairing: minghao x fem!reader

prompt: every inch of you is the most incredible thing that God ever created (that newlyweds!au everyone needed for their souls)

warnings: smut (minors you know what to do? correct, pass by), bodyworship and praise, honestly this is very-very soft with lots of dirty talk (more like sweet talk), minghao is so whipped in this one that i am barely coherent myself tbh

wandering hands caress your body adoringly, making you smile even in your sleep. this is probably the best way to wake up from a jet-lag induced nap, you think, as you slowly blink your eyes open. minghao’s touches are like butterfly kisses – they tickle and send burst of warmth in your chest. you arch your back, shuddering at the contact with his naked skin, turning your head to take a good look at your boyfr- husband. husband. this is something new to get used to.

'are you awake?' minghao asks quietly, raising up on his elbows to get a good look at your face. you nod and he smiles, leaning in to leave a sweet kiss on your shoulder. 'good morning, my sweet wife.'

you giggle, turning fully to look at him. part of you wanted to tease him, but when you make eye contact and you see how he looks at you, all these thoughts disappear. minghao has always been very open about his feelings for you, always voiced out loud what you mean to him and made sure that you know where you stand in his life. but he didn't really have to say all of this, because his eyes told it all; the way he was looking at you always was louder than his words. reverence in his touch, awe in his eyes, fondness in his tone - minghao was like that from the day one and time didn't change him at all. even the way he looks at you right now, like you are the most wonderful painting, a sky full of stars, the most-

'how did i get so lucky?' he whispers, looking all over your face in an awe. 'you are by my side and you are my wife. life doesn't get better than that.'

'i got very lucky with my husband too,' you mumble, turning to the side to face him properly. all the love and adoration in his eyes makes your skin tingle.

minghao's eyes twinkle and he bites his lower lip, leaning. 'you? calling me 'husband?' life actually can get better.'

you laugh and this sound makes hao's chest squeeze tighter just like always. he hopes it never wears off, this spell you have him under. he hopes no matter how much time will pass, the effect you have on him stays the same. he hopes what is ahead of you as husband and wife is even better than what you had as boyfriend and girlfriend. all of his prayers are filled with you, he hopes you know that.

'someone is awfully cheesy,' you push him back and he goes easily, letting you lay half on top of him.

'did you sleep well?' he asks, caressing your back. while material of his t-shirt which you are wearing is nice, it's not enough to satisfy him; his hand sneaks beneath the t-shirt for the skin to skin contact. 'that flight was too long. how are you feeling?'

'i'm okay,' you answer, looking up. 'and you?'

i am in love, is what minghao wants to say but instead he leans in to peck your lips. what supposed to be a peck turned into a gentle kiss, because it's an impossible thing to get close to your lips and leave it all just at a peck. he kisses you slowly, throughly, just like he knows you like it; after so many years together, your body has no secrets from him. it's as responsive to his touch as it was in the beginning and he takes a pride in that, in making you feel good, in knowing how to do so in mere seconds.

'hao,' you call out as he slots his leg in between yours, giving you a perfect place for subtle grinding. which is a very tempting offer, considering how quickly he makes you affected with his kisses. 'we have to go.'

'where?' he asks in between kisses, running his hands all over your body.

'breakfast,' you mutter, turning your head to break the kiss and sighing in pleasure as he starts peppering your neck with kisses. 'aren't you hungry?'

minghao looks up, grinning. 'for you? always.'

and he doesn't care if it's cheesy and maybe kinda cringy, he knows you are only endeared. there used to be a time when he dreamt of this: of having you next to him like that, not only physically but emotionally as well. then, there used to be time when he dreamt of you two being bonded in a legal sense too. and now it's not a dream anymore, it's a reality, his reality. now that he has it, has you - how do you expect him to ever get enough?

'hao, i think-' your voice breaks into a long moan as his fingers slip inside your underwear.

'if you still think then i'm doing a really bad job.'

with how busy you both are, a lot of love making restors to quickies and that is not okay for niether of you; especially not for minghao. he loves to take his time with you, loves to unravel you like a birthday present and make you sqiurm and beg and pant before he even got naked. it's a privelege to be able to have you intimately like this and minghao doesn't take it for granted. knowing that now you two have all the time in the world, he's not about to let you go out of bed any time soon. or ever, if he can.

'so lovely,' he whispers, undressing you. 'always so pretty for me, my pretty wife.' when you cover your face being shy, he gently grabs your wrist, making you look at him. 'hey, what is that? why are being shy? is it because i'm calling you 'my pretty wife', hm?' you squeal, trying to close your face again but he doesn't let you, grinning. 'aw, my darling. but i'm not lying, am i? you are my pretty, sweet wife.'

'hao,' you whine, kicking your feet a little. this kind of praise leaves you flustered and you don't know what to do apart from staring at him helplessly. 'just-'

'just what?' minghao interrupts, staring up at you lovingly. 'just go on with it? is that what you wanted to say?' he slips your underwear away, caressing your thighs gently. 'but i want to take my time, love. every inch of you in the most incredible thing that God ever created, i have to worship it right.'

whatever you wanted to say dies on your tongue as he starts kissing you. minghao is a generous lover, he is all about giving; not a single inch of your kiss is left unkissed by the time he finally moves to the place where you want him the most. he loves your reactions, lives for them, really. content sigh here, broken moan there, a shiver, arch of the back, tightening hold on his shoulders, trying to close your thighs to ease the pressure - he notes it all, saves it somewhere at the back of his mind so he can re-live them later on. if minghao was asked about his favorite activity then making our thighs shake with how he's eating you out would be his answer. being in between your legs, edging you on until you can't help but bracket him with your thighs is something else, a different kind of pleasure.

'hao, i'm- oh my god, i'm-' your hips rise up but he pushes them down gently but firmly, not letting you get away from his tongue. 'fuck- so good.'

hao hums, continuing to lap at your juices, instering one finger in. 'you can cum whenever you want, princess,' he mutters before diving in to suck on your clit, making you scream. 'i want you to feel good.'

'i feel good, so good, i'm gonna-'

it's beautiful, the way your back arches, how you fist the sheets so tight they almost rip as a long moan penetreates the silence when you finally reach your high. hao smiles, pats your thighs soothingly and starts marking them up, inserting second finger in. by the time he's done with you, you should not be able to walk so he can carry you to the jacuzzi he's seen earlier and fuck you there.

'mmm, hao,' you call, licking your lips invitingly. 'come kiss me.'

he obliges, how can he not, have you seen yourself? minghao is not sure he can ever say 'no' to this request. he kisses you, lets you taste yourself on his tongue. 'my sweet, sweet baby,' he whispers, looking at your satisfied expression.

'i thought i'm your sweet wife,' you interject softly, caressing his back. 'do you want me to take care of you too, my husband?'

if his dick twitches at this, he can't be blamed. but it's all about you, just as it always is, so he stubborly shakes his head and instead moves closer to pay attention to your breasts, adding one more finger in. 'i wish we could do it all day,' he confesses, hearing your high pitched whine as he sucks on your nipple. 'i'd do it all day and night with you.'

tangling your fingers in his hair, you tug a little, making him groan. 'i- is that your plan for this honeymoon?' you ask, breathless. first two orgasms always come quickly for you and you can already feel familiar tingling.

minghao looks at you cheekily. 'you won't be against it, right?' he bites just a little at the swell of your breast, smirking at your sharp intake of breath. 'you won't, i know. you love it as much as i do.' he starts thrusting his fingers faster, watching our face like he's enamored. 'you love it when i make you crazy with want, when i make you cum so many times that you are sore by the end of it, when-' he cuts off, licking in your mouth.

beautiful sounds you make always set him on edge and you starts whining, trashing a little in his hold, he can't help it even if he planned to tease you - he has to give it to you. minghao curls his fingers just right and you orgasm for the second time, shaking in his arms. he peppers your face with kisses, positioning himself in between your legs, hiking them up. waiting for the tremor to pass, minghao caresses your face until you open your eyes, aware of your surroundings. 'with me?' he asks and you nod lightly. 'all good?'

you nod again. you feel much better than just 'good', but it's hard to form sentences when you feel him slowly pushing the tip in. 'just like that,' he whispers into your ear, when you will your muscles to relax. 'taking me in so well, breathe for me.'

you want to stay present, but it's impossible to do so when your eyes roll to the back of your head when minghao fully slots himself in. it feels full and too much, you claw at his chest, whining. 'shh,' he soothes immediately, pushing your foreheads together. 'c'mon love, look at me.'

opening your eyes is a feat but you manage it, blinking up at him. there's so much love and lust and adoration in his gaze that you can choke with it; this man loves you like you always dreamt of being loved - truly, madly, deeply. looping your arms around his neck, you peck his lips as a sign for him to move. 'i love you,' you whisper. you actually want to shout it out, to tell everyone in this world that this man is yours, because that's how he makes you feel.

minghao's eyes flutter and when he looks at you again, there's tenderness there that makes you want to cry. 'i love you,' he whispers back, starting to slowly pick up his rhythm. 'you have no idea how much, you are everything to me, my-' he groans when your walls tighten around him. 'fuck, so good- always so good to me, perfect for me, wanna be yours so much-'

you hiccup at this, moaning into his mouth when he starts thrusting harder. 'you are mine,' you remind him, voice laced with possessiveness you never usually show.

his hips falter and then he pulls out completely only to slam right back in, catching your shout with his mouth. 'just like you are mine,' he mutters, biting at your lower lip. 'so sweet, so pretty, all mine, my wife.'

it doesn't take you both long to reach your highs and when you do, it's both of you moaning each other's names, holding to each other for dear life. 'love you, love you,' he keeps repeating, staying inside you and not willing to pull out just yet.

'love you too,' you let out, spent and satisfied.

there's a certain glow around you and minghao can't look away even when he knows you get shy because of his staring. you look so beautiful, his brain kind of short circuits at the sight. 'sticky,' you mutter after few minutes of being plastered to each other.

minghao nods, gently pulling out. he gulps at the sight of his semen slipping out and groans loudly, when you stretch, completely oblivious to how seductive this simple gesture is. you say something about shower and breakfast, but his mind is filled with images of you, and bubbles, and jacuzzi, so he doesn't even let you finish before he's lifting you up, smiling at your surprised shout. 'hao! what, where-'

'we are so not done,' he announces, carrying you to his goal. 'one more round in jacuzzi baby and then i'll bring you breakfast right to the tub, okay?'

you stare at him in shock, gasping at the way he purposefully grips underside of your thighs, close to a very sensitive part. 'you were not jokinng about the honeymoon part,' you realize as he carefully puts you down. there are rose petals in an otherwise empty jacuzzi and you try not to blush at this. 'rose petals are really over the top, hao-'

'no,' he says, checking water temperature before signaling you to get in. 'i haven't even started spoiling you yet, just wait and see.'

minghao fears that sometimes you don't feel the full magnitude of his feelings. you don't understand what exactly he feels for you, how gone he is for you. and it makes him sad and angry, but then he realizes - he has all the time in the world to make you see, to make you understand how madly in love with you he is. and he's going to do exactly that.

a/n: this idea was kindly provided by an amazing anon, who i hope will see this! haven't written something smutty in a long time, hope this is fine - nini

tagging @prpldahy (if you want to be tagged too - let me know!)

my masterlist is here

#seventeen imagine #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #seventeen minghao #xu minghao #minghao x reader #minghao imagines #minghao smut #svt minghao #seventeen the8 #seventeen xu minghao #you know when you write something and then you read it again and kind die?#that is exactly what happened with this piece #give this love cause haohao deserves it!!#and bc he is the softest boi

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littlemisspascal · 4 months

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Rockford & Roan Pt. 6

Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader/OFC ‘Roan’

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: “You’re probably thinking, this is crazy. Being whisked away through a portal for a clandestine meeting with my match’s brother–what the hell is going on? Am I right?”

Rating: T. Heed the warnings y'all!

Warnings: Language, Reader has a dog, Reader has military background, Superpower AU, They Were Roommates AU, self-esteem issues, soulmates-ish, original characters, worldbuilding, sort-of threat of murder, Reader has a made-up place of birth, stress, anxiety, named Thief character

- Reader has no first name and no physical traits described in detail except for being shorter than Rockford. Reader is mentioned to have hair

Author Note: Thank you always for the kind support💗

Special thanks to @beecastle for beta reading and encouraging me 💜💜💜

Series Masterlist

The Brother

It takes a moment for you to shake off your shock, mutely staring at the man–Rockford’s brother, his flesh and blood relative–before stooping to reclaim Banjo's leash, giving it a firm tug. Your dog obediently, albeit begrudgingly, returns back to your side where he sits with a paw on your shoe. A hugely possessive action for such a small creature.

The man in the floral robe (and what’s up with that? His entire outfit looks perfectly tailored, every last crisp detail painstakingly crafted to suit his broad frame) inclines his head, looking cordial if not for the slight calculating sharpness in his gaze. “You’re probably thinking, this is crazy. Being whisked away through a portal for a clandestine meeting with my match’s brother–what the hell is going on? Am I right?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” you say flatly, and he actually chuckles at that.

“When one is avoiding the attention of Timotheus Rockford, discreetness is the name of the game. Hence the one place he refuses to set foot in again.”

Well, that certainly doesn’t sound ominous at all. A memory flickers in the back of your mind of a knife stabbed into the apartment’s wall. Rockford’s first and to date only mention of his brother.

“Which is a shame,” the man continues with a put upon sigh, “because all his things are exactly where he left them in his room.”

“What?”

“Mamá insisted,” he says plainly, as if those two words are enough to erase your confusion. He scoffs then, nose scrunching. “No matter what I say, the old bat thinks her darling boy will find his way back home one of these days.”

Home? Rockford’s never struck you as the filthy rich type before—the man owns exactly one (1) ratty brown trench coat that he’ll probably take with him to his grave, for crying out loud. You’d assumed he’d had a modest upbringing similar to yours, but standing here in a lavishly decorated room larger than half of your childhood home…well. It’s crystal clear you were wrong about him.

Brown eyes narrow in consideration. “You seem upset.”

Your spine tenses up, not liking the shift in subject of the conversation. “Yeah well, you seem–”

Your empathy spasms painfully when you reach for it. A pins and needles sensation that has your fingers flexing instinctively. You can barely sense the faintest of glimmers from the woman’s mind behind you, empathy feeling strained as if she’s hundreds of miles away. Horror begins creeping into your bones as you turn your attention to the man who’s begun to smirk at you.

“I was wondering when your soldier instincts would realize something was amiss,” he says, looking at you the same way you imagine a scientist looks at a microscope slide, putting you on edge.

Gritting your teeth, you sharpen what little of your mind-gift you can concentrate on into a blade. Even if you can’t pierce through all his defenses, at the very least he’ll have a migraine from hell.

But lashing out reveals no target. Just a blank, gaping void where his aura should be.

Your lips part in a silent gasp, all coherent thoughts fleeing your head. If you weren’t looking directly at him, you wouldn’t be able to tell he was here at all. How…how is that possible?

Every living being has emotions, even those with the coldest of hearts can’t evade your mind-gift’s detection. And this man—this man wearing your match’s face—he’s obviously experiencing feelings. One look at the crinkled lines along the corners of his eyes, the flash of his white teeth in a smug grin, is proof enough. So why the fuck is he invisible to you?

“Who are you?” you ask, raking your gaze over him.

“I answer to many names.”

“He’s a dramatic bitch,” the nameless woman chimes in with a voice like smoke and chocolate. Banjo growls a low, grumpy note, still distrustful of her.

“Your commentary, as always, is much appreciated, Saturn, thank you.” The man’s tone is sharp, and his glare sharper. If looks could kill, Saturn would be a bloody stain on the floor right now.

Instead, she shrugs off the retort like a duck flicking water off its feathers. “No problem, boss.”

Your lips curl into an unimpressed scowl. “Who are you?” Then, more insistently, “What are you?”

“I’ll let you call me Cassius, Miss Roan. We are practically family, after all,” he says with a wryness that has your temper flaring hotly. “As for what I am, well. I like to think of myself as something of a master thief. It’s got a nice ring to it. Much better than a suppressor, in my opinion.”

A ripple of shock spasms across your face, heart lurching heavily in your chest.

Suppression is widely considered one of the rarest of gifts. Rare like one born every ten years kind of rare. You’ve only heard news stories about suppressors, how they can steal the abilities of others with just one look or touch. Sometimes for mere minutes. Sometimes for several years. They’re reported as heroes saving the day as often as they are criminals who need to be isolated from the rest of society.

Regardless of his relationship to Rockford, Cassius’ status as your ally or enemy remains to be determined. His personality leaves much to be desired, but really it all boils down to how long he intends to lock away your mind-gift.

Your empathy has always been a vital part of you. The way you can feel it fading away, a dying candle flame devoid of oxygen, makes your skin crawl. Reminds you of childhood summers at the beach, futilely grasping at sand slipping through the gaps of your fingers. You didn’t realize the full extent of how much you rely on your mind-gift until right this moment, forced to guess what Cassius’ is feeling just from his body language alone. Is this really how the rest of the population lives? You shudder at the thought.

“Relax,” Cassius tells you, though it doesn’t have much of an effect. Not until he adds, “I won’t keep your mind-gift long. And if I really meant you harm I would’ve had Saturn portal you off a building.”

“Messy, but effective,” Saturn agrees.

Your eyes grow impossibly wider. (Did she just confess to murdering people? Surely she’s joking. Yeah. You’re gonna tell yourself she’s joking.)

“I really did just bring you here for a chat,” the thief says, ignoring his…assistant? Business partner? You haven’t quite pinned down what they are to each other, relying only on Saturn referring to him as ‘boss’ as a clue.

“Why?” you ask, voice still a little shaky before you make yourself take a deep, steadying breath. “Clearly you and your brother aren’t on the best of terms with each other. I matched with him, yes, but other than that I’m a nobody. Why waste time talking to me?”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Sergeant Roan. You’re far more interesting than any old nobody.” Cassius sticks his hands into the deep pockets of his robe, expression annoyingly inscrutable. “Born in Rabicano. Enlisted at eighteen. Discharged earlier this year following a lapse of control. Though you did manage to save your camp and fellow soldiers from falling into enemy hands during a midnight raid. You deserve kudos for that.”

Your lips purse, fighting to remain calm. Those details are supposed to be confidential, known only to you, the military, and Dr. Odair.

“You’ve done your research. Good job.” You flash a sardonic smile. “Are you trying to scare me off? Is that what this is?”

“Not at all. On the contrary, I quite like you staying at 445D Albatross Lane. Gives you close eyes on Timotheus—his comings and goings, his health, his cases.” He pauses, wetting his bottom lip. “My sources tell me you’ve been searching for a new source of employment. I’d be happy to pay you a large sum of money.”

“In exchange for what?” you ask cautiously.

“Information,” Cassius answers, eyes gleaming. “Just…tell me what my brother’s up to. Despite our differences, I do care about him. Somewhat.”

“No. I’ll never be a spy.” You shake your head. Things may be strained between you and Rockford at the moment, but you’d never betray his trust. Not for all the money in the world.

The thief blinks, something that looks an awful lot like surprise there and gone in the span of a heartbeat. You bite back a smug grin. It’s pretty nice being the one catching him off guard for a change.

“I haven’t mentioned a figure.”

“Don’t care.”

“You…don’t care?” Cassius echoes faintly, and it genuinely appears as if you’ve short-circuited his mind. He recovers quickly, squinting with a knowing air. “You’re protective of him.”

“He’s my match,” you say firmly. “And he’s my friend.”

There’s an awkward stretch of silence, nobody saying anything. Even Saturn doesn’t have a quip prepared. You find yourself wondering about Rockford, if he’s noticed you’re missing. You hope so. You hope even more to mend what’s been fractured. A long talk is in order once things wrap up here.

And then Cassius sighs—a single puff of air, yet it has the impact of a bullet hitting your gut.

For the first time since meeting him, his expression isn’t one of blankness or arrogance or humor at your own expense. No, it’s something else aging him several years, deepening the wrinkles of his brow, shoulders sagging from their perfect posture.

You’re scared to realize it might be disappointment.

“His friend? Nonsense. That tells me you don’t really know who he is.”

The moment Cassius says them, you want to take those words and stuff them down his throat until he chokes. Because that’s your biggest fear– plucked from the darkest corners of your being and exposed like an open wound to be mocked and prodded–that everything you’ve been learning about Rockford is wrong. No, maybe not everything, but the intimate details. All the itty bitty pieces gathered and studied and fitted together in hopes of understanding what makes Rockford Rockford.

“It’s a work in progress,” you admit. “We’ve both got trust issues and baggage we don’t talk about. And maybe he’s got a bit of a head start with his gift when it comes to knowing me, but I can be patient. Good things come to those who wait, so they say. And he’s worth waiting for.”

Cassius hums, thoughtful, then asks you, “And if it’s not a good thing in the end. What then?”

You frown. “I don’t understand.”

“I think there’s another popular phrase you’d do well to remember.” He steps closer, indifferent to Banjo scampering onto four legs with a disgruntled woof and the way you bristle when he clasps your shoulder in a firm hold, thumb pressing down ever so slightly. An unspoken warning to shut up and listen. Leaning in even nearer, his mouth drifts mere inches above your cheek, breath warm, and then he’s whispering in your ear, “Ignorance is bliss. Be very careful, Miss Roan, which truths you seek to learn about my brother.”

You say nothing, staring at the wall over his shoulder, heart pounding in your throat.

When he steps back, hand dropping to his side once more, the thief is smiling again, dimpled and cheery, expression cleared of stoicism. “I’m glad to have finally met you. It was an enlightening experience. No need to worry about finding a cab at this hour, Saturn will drop you back safely at your apartment doorstep.”

The Card

Your second trip through one of Saturn’s portals is as chaotic and disorienting as the first time, but you land on your feet at least instead of rolling across the sidewalk. Even better, your arrival back home comes with the return of your mind-gift, rising like the first sunrise after months of pitch blackness, burning away the numbness plaguing your brain.

The portal closes up behind you with a quiet whooshing sound, leaving you and Banjo alone on Albatross Lane, not another soul in sight. Banjo gives himself a full-bodied shake from nose to tail tip, yawning once he’s finished. Seems like you’re not the only one exhausted by the last few hours.

This night feels like one of the longest ones of your life, full of unexpected twists and traumatic trips down memory lane, culminating with perhaps the strangest encounter you’ve ever had with another human being. You’re still not sure what to make of Cassius. What kind of man offers to pay someone to provide information on his own brother? Is their relationship seriously so hopelessly broken that they can’t even fake a civil conversation on the phone like many siblings do?

Only two people can answer those questions. And one of them’s a short elevator ride away. You can sense Rockford’s emotions from down here, almost like a distant thunderstorm on the horizon, rumbling with irritation.

You stick your hands into your jacket pockets, mentally bracing yourself for what’s next to come, but the discovery of something brushing against your fingertips makes you pause. Eyebrows scrunching, you pull out a green patterned playing card and flip it over to reveal the three of hearts. You’re baffled by its existence for all of five seconds before remembering Cassius’ abrupt closeness at the end of your conversation. A cover to hide his parting gift unnoticed.

That settles it then. Mysteriousness must run in the Rockford family genes.

“C’mon boy,” you say to Banjo, stuffing the card away. The yellow door beckons you closer, friendly amongst the nightly shades of grays and blacks. It’s a shame what awaits you inside isn’t nearly as soothing. “One more conversation to go before we sleep.”

#tim rockford x you #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford #the thief #pedrostories #tim rockford fanfiction #tim rockford x ofc #my fic

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hannysarang · 10 months

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Control // Twenty Three.

Summary: Draco hasn't been able to enjoy sex and a little birdie tells him Hermione likes to take control. Is he willing to give it up? Can Draco Malfoy give up control?

Chapter 23 ————————

Once they reached the park, a safe distance from the bookshop, Hermione stopped and didn’t even turn around.

The sun was almost gone and there was no one else at the park, giving Draco an odd silent feeling

“You will not be catching up with her,” she calmly said, referring to Pansy.

“What?”

“I don’t want you seeing her, Draco,” she reiterated.

Draco knew Hermione didn’t like his Slytherin friends. In fact, he was very surprised that she and Blaise had managed to establish an understanding relationship which they were able to maintain for years.

“I haven’t seen her in over a year,” he told her. “But I won’t do anything behind your back.”

Abruptly turning around to him, she cocked a brow and took aggressive steps forward, making him take steps backwards until his back hit a tree.

“Did you enjoy talking to her?”

“She’s a friend from school,” he breathed out, noticing how close she was to his face.

“Clearly had a blast,” she scoffed, a hand reaching down to the bulge of his pants.

“Wait,” he groaned.

How was he going to tell her that this erection was her doing and not Pansy’s?

“So evident, too. Even people flying past you on the Nimbus 2024 could probably see your dick straining against your trousers,” she whispered against his neck, sending chills down his spine.

“She didn’t give me an erection,” he defended himself, reaching out to grab her arm.

Whether he wanted to pry her hands off of him or move her hands was unknown to him.

“Hands behind your back,” warned Hermione, squeezing his cock.

Moaning, he obediently did so, tucking his hands between his back and the tree. He looked around to see if anyone was walking by, afraid someone would witness him being putty in Hermione’s hands.

“I didn’t train you to be a pretty slut just for you to go wagging your tail at other women,” she said as she unbuckled his pants and reached into his boxers.

Gasping as his cock hit the chilly air, he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the rough bark of the tree.

“It was only Pansy,” he strained as her hand started to stroke his erection.

“Only Pansy,” she repeated in a humorous tone. “And am I only Hermione?”

“W- what?” he stammered, wondering if his full balls were restricting his thought processes or if she was actually talking in puzzles.

Was she angry he hadn’t jumped to her defence when Pansy was being a bitch towards her? Was she angry because he failed to successfully hide the bulge in his pants?

Draco tried to think of reasons why Hermione would be as annoyed as she was right now, but the knot forming in his abdomen blocked any possibility of a full, coherent thought.

As her hands sped up, sending Draco’s back arching, she said, “Hm, what should we do, Draco? Should we put a collar on you? Should we announce it to everyone?”

“Announce what?” he moaned, her words barely processing as he clenched his eyes shut and tried to focus on his breathing to keep himself from cumming before she gave him permission.

“That you’re mine,” she practically growled against his neck.

Eyes shooting open, Draco took a loud audible breath in, finally figuring it out.

She was jealous.

Hermione Granger was jealous.

At the realisation, his legs trembled as his cock shot out strings of white cum onto the grass. The moment his body started to seize, Hermione let go of his cock, leaving his cock just hanging in the air and therefore ruining his orgasm.

“Hngh,” he grunted, glad he was finally cumming but not so glad that it wasn’t pleasurable.

“I know what I’ll do,” Hermione said in a cheery voice that sounded full of enlightenment as if he was not orgasming just centimetres in front of her. “I’ll mark you.”

Continue Chapter 23 on ao3

Start from the beginning

#dramione #dramione fanfic #hermione granger #draco malfoy #dom hermione granger #sub draco malfoy #sub/dom #hermione x draco #fanfic #smut

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cf56 · 1 year

Text

There has been a lot of dialogue recently about the rise of AI programs in writing, especially with the recent rise in GPT and OpenAI’s chat program. I just read an article by a high school teacher that asserts writing as a useful and teachable skill is dead. I’m not concerned.

It’s not due to ignorance. I’m probably more immersed in the field of AI than most. I’ve watched it rise from its infancy years ago, from bots that can barely make coherent comments on Reddit’s r/subredditsimulator, to creating fever dream adventures in AIDungeon, to playing around with the GPT3 AI that was able to get so close to humanity but always ended up a little short. It’s been clear to me for a long time that AI was heading on a quick trajectory from being nothing more than a curiosity to something that could be convincingly human. I am surprised at just how fast it’s happened- I expected we’d be at this point in around three to five more years from now- but not surprised that it did.

I have to credit Vinny Vinesauce and his community, both for keeping me up to date in this field and showing me the funny side of what AI can be. For most of the time until now, that’s really all AI was good for, in a practical sense. It was distinguished by its imperfections- it could appear oh so human 90% of the time, but then say something that made it clear it just didn’t understand what it was talking about. Those moments were often laugh-out-loud hilarious. But it was clear that someday, most or all of those imperfections would be gone, and AI would be able to create something that’s indistinguishable from perfect human writing. That’s just the thing, though. Human writing isn’t perfect. Where AI used to be distinguishable through its imperfections, maybe now it’s human writing that will be?

There isn’t much that humans can do artistically that AI won’t be able to do within the next ten years. After all, what is writing except a bunch of words placed in a certain order that triggers something in the human mind? The AI isn’t thinking artistically or creatively- all it’s doing is mathematically finding the right order of words that will be pleasing to its human reader. Good writers already knew this fundamental part of the writing process, whether they were aware of it or not- when you start out with a strong creative idea, you already know exactly what you want to say. You know the exact ideas you want to communicate, and if you could just skip the process of writing altogether and beam those ideas into your readers’ heads, there wouldn’t be much need for putting it into text at all. Most of the process of writing is simply trying to find the right order of words that will convey the ideas you have in your head. That combination of words already existed, you’re not finding anything new. You’re just trying to weed through the nearly infinite possibilities to uncover the exact combination that will work for you. Previously, the human brain was the only machine on Earth capable of doing this task with an acceptable level of efficiency. Now we’re joined by another.

All other artforms are the same. What is art except a grid of differently colored pixels on a screen? Videos are the same, but with many of those combinations of pixels played in quick succession. We humans can see that these things are much more than just the base reality of their parts, but to computers, that’s all they’ll ever be. The computer just needs to figure out the right combination that will be pleasing to our human minds. AI visual art is currently at the stage that AI writing was about five years ago. It won’t be long before we’re having this exact same conversation about drawings or videos. Many people already are.

AI will bring much more significant changes to our society than just debates on the true nature of art. This is one I’ve had in mind for a long time- when AI-created videos become indistinguishable from real ones, then truth goes out the window. Not just because of the obvious, of people creating fakes to frame others of crimes or embarrassments. But because of the inverse- if real videos are indistinguishable from fake ones, how could a real video ever be used as solid evidence of… well, anything? As far as justice goes, we might be about to be sent several decades backwards. I’m currently in college to learn how to code, but I’ve already realized something inevitable- in just a few years, my new skills will be completely useless. AI will be able to write code far faster, cheaper, and better than I can, and it will be able to do it for any regular schmuck who’s able to type in what kind of program they want. The writer of the article I mentioned earlier said that he can’t express to his students how learning to write is a useful skill like video editing is. I don’t think he’s thinking long term. It won’t be long before video editing can be done perfectly by an AI as well. In fact, video editing will be obsolete entirely- you’ll just be able to tell an AI exactly what kind of video you want, and it’ll generate it from scratch. No reality required.

Art is actually going to be one of the least affected parts of our society. You can teach a machine to play a piano perfectly, but no one goes to a concert hall to see it. It just becomes a curiosity that you can put a nickel into in a corner of the mall. For everything that AI can do, there’s still something it can’t- it can’t create anything new. Everything AI generates is based on the sum of human knowledge. There’s nothing it creates that isn’t in some way based off the work of a human that came before. Human writers are similar in some ways- when we write, we also build off of our acquired knowledge of what came before. But, unlike a machine that knows everything, each of our sets of knowledge are completely different, incomplete, and from that comes creativity. So yes, maybe my writing will become completely pointless. Maybe a machine can do it better than I ever could. But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop doing it. Because for all an AI can do, you can’t tell it to “write a fanfiction in the style of CF56” and have it generate something that exactly resembles what I was about to write. I actually consider myself quite lucky. In five or ten years when I’m still writing, you’ll be able to look at the work I put out now, before AI reshaped our society from the bottom up, and confirm- yep, that’s really him. That’s a real human writing in the same way he always has. The ones I truly pity are the ones who come after me. The children just learning to write in elementary school or children that aren’t even born, because they’ll have no such evidence to work in their favor. That doesn’t mean that what they’ll do is worthless. It just means it’ll be more unique.

#artificial intelligence #ai #openai #gpt3 #writing #fanfiction #cfposts

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madrigaljail · 2 years

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Writing Notes

Here have me updating and thinking out loud re: Encanto fic projects, because fun as discord is sometimes I wanna do bullet points and duck-organizing.

1. Current fixation - more post-canon probably-apocrypha with Bruno and Jose Guzman the Lesser (aka the In-Laws ‘Verse one, aka mine) being gay gay homosexual gay/aroace Bruno having a “oh wait maybe I’m demi” midlife non-crisis. I’m 1500 words in and there has been admittedly ZERO gayness but it’s happening because I am a slasher at heart and also weak. What we’re getting so far is a good old fashioned chaotic Madrigal dinner which is going to call back to p much everything I’ve ever written. I have no idea where or how I’m going to post this.

2. Chapter 5 of Prophet has been started like barely, this one and chapter 6 are going to be relatively short but getting my brain organized/focused is going to be tricky. Both chapters have titles though which is nice!! Anyway, I’ve got to cover the decade until Mira’s gift ceremony so it’s going to be angsty and sad and I need the right mindframe. Cross your fingers.

3. Chapter 5 of Talk of the Town is going to write itself but again I need the mindframe to get into Dolores POV. It’s going to be self-indulgent and goofy like literally everything else I write. Sidebar: right now both Prophet and TotT are going to be 7 chapters each but I’m not ready to commit to that so they’ll stay X/?

4. The El Brujo Loco Fic has also been started but I have no idea how to structure it. “Just write out the arc” like ok sure but I feel like it needs to be more chaotic. Or maybe I need to write it in a more chaotic manner, like put the playlist on shuffle and write whatever each song inspires and then bash it together coherently.

5. Other in-laws things One-shots from the POV of Felix’s dad of the literal first days of the Miracle, and one from Vittoria Martinez which will be focused on Mirabel’s gift ceremony and the fallout. I am never escaping this ‘verse.

5. In the docs someday, someday, I’ll go back to the first thing I started writing for this fandom which was Alma-centric and sweet and fun and basically leads up to that moment in Dos Oruguitas with the paper doll(s). Also the start of the circus AU is there too. And someday I want to do another Alma fic based on “King” by Florence + The Machine because songfics in 2022 are totally trendy.

#my writing #the madrigal in-laws #look sometimes I need to yell here too

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bunny-xoxo · 3 years

Text

Phone Sex

18+ MINORS DNI

jean, armin, & eren (sep) x reader

warning(s): slight dom reader, male masturbation, humiliation, degradation, edging, phone sex, crying ig?, self-masturbation mentioned in Jeans but I tried to make it gender neutral, eren calls reader mommy in his but it’s like slightly a joke ,, at first🧍‍♀️

a/n: ANON YOU.... you have a mind of gold. This was a request for reading guiding the boys while they masturbate so this is that! I hope this was what you were looking for anon! :) <3 and as always I love to hear your thoughts so pls send them in 😭 i also did my best to keep the reader neutral when it mentions the reader masturbating !

Jean

When you were woke up at 2 in the morning by a call from Jean, you definitely thought you’d be racing over to his place for some kind of emergency. But when you slid your thumb across the screen and held your phone up to ear, grumbling out a ,“hello?”, instead you were met with whiny, breathy moans, pleading for a different kind of help.

“Baby? You up?” You could barely hear him over his heavy panting.

“Well, I am now.”

It was silent for a few moments while you heard him shuffling around in his bed.

“Do ya need something babe? What’d you call me so late for?” You took an innocent tone to your voice, but you knew exactly what he needed from you.

“Hnng- ah- um, yeah. I - are you - ah - busy?”

You sighed and grumbled for him to give you a second as you moved to lay on your back and put your headphones on,

“You’re sitting there with that pretty cock of yours in your hands, aren’t you? So needy and desperate to cum that you had to wake me up at 2 in the morning just to hear my voice? Aw, I never knew you were such a little slut, Jean.”

Your hands reached down between your legs to slide your bottoms off at the sound of a hoarse whimper from the other end of the phone call, clearly he was caught off guard by your sudden crude words.

“You like that? Being reminded how much of a slut you are for me?”

“Ah - mhm.” You could hear the speed of his hand increasing, and judging by his moans you could tell he was getting close.

“Look at you, all worked up and already about to make a mess of yourself. Wanna cum baby? Tell me how bad you want it.” You hummed as you brought your fingers down to play with yourself, now throbbing with need from the sound of Jeans moans; which were filled with the obvious longing to be fucking you or your dirty mouth instead of his fist.

“Oh god, I want it so bad, only you - fuck - only - oh god, baby please lemme cum.” You could see him now, a panting sweaty mess with his large hand wrapped around his cock. He was probably bucking up into his hand, the other one fisting the sheet while he tried to ground himself and wait for your permission, wanting so bad to be good for you. The head of his cock slightly swollen with need and his pretty face all scrunched up with focus.

“Yeah? You wanna cum?”

“Fuck, yes. Please?”

“Awww, what a good boy. Go on and lemme hear you cum then.”

His pretty groan filled your ears before it came out strangled and separated with gasps.

You let him ride out his high a bit longer until he spoke.

“Thank you, babe. Sorry to wake you up.” He had a sense of bashfulness to his voice - not matching the confidence he had earlier to dial you in the first place.

“Mmm, don’t worry about it. You can make it up to me by staying on the line until I cum this time.”

Armin

You’d be lying if you said Armins sniffling coming through the phone didn’t make you smile. You love when he listens to you, even when it’s killing him to do so.

“C-can I, can I keep going?” His voice was so soft and meek you could barely hear him.

He sat with his hand resting at the base of his cock, not squeezing or moving an inch. Every so often he’d run his hand through his hair or let it slide down his chest, brushing past his nipples, desperate for some kind of stimulation.

Every twitch of his cock made the tears resting on his lash line spill and stream down his red cheeks, god you could just imagine it. What you wouldn’t give to be in front of him now and see it for yourself.

“Mhm, but I want you to go nice ‘n slow. You think you can do that for me?” You did your best to keep your tone calm and unwavering, luring him into doing what you wanted, knowing he’s a sucker for receiving your praise.

“Of course I can.” He said it matter of factly, almost appalled that you’d assume he couldn’t do anything you ask of him.

“Well, go on then.”

He hissed at the sensation of his cold, tough hands dragging slowly up his cock, squeezing slightly at the head just to tease himself further - making sure to let an erotic moan slip past his lips to let you know he was going above and beyond for you. Even fondling his balls just to make the desire to cum all that more excruciating, and showing you just how much he could take if it meant being good for you.

“You sound so pretty baby, think you can hold out just a little bit longer for me? You know how much I love listening to you touch yourself, such an angel.”

“Y-yes.” He swallowed thickly - loud enough that you could hear it - knowing how proud of him you were gonna be.

“Good boy.”

Eren

Eren rarely enjoyed phone sex, too needy and demanding to think it was worth it; especially when he could pick you up or come over at any time. So why the hell would he choose to be separated and touch himself while he listened to you over the phone?

But I guess it’s different when he’s at work and only has 30 minutes to ease the strain in his pants and get you off his mind. Which is exactly why he’s calling your contact with a shaky hand as he sits in his car, making sure to park where no one would come to bother him, with the other hand busy pulling out his fat cock previously stuffed and feeling claustrophobic in his jeans - he’s lucky his work apron kept his appearance decent.

He hissed at the way it sprang up against his abdomen, his cock head already angry and swollen. God he hated you, getting him all worked up at work just because he couldn’t stop thinking about bending you over and slamming you so hard you couldn’t do anything but whine and whimper, not even able to get out a coherent sentence about how good he filled you up.

But the moment he heard the ringing falter and your sweet voice greet him , “Hey babe what’s up? Aren’t you at work right now?”, all animosity left his body. A low whimper leaving his lips instead, so desperately wanting your lips wrapped around his cock it was almost agonizing.

“Fuck babe, I need you - oh fuck - I need you to make me cum quick, ah hnngh god -“ he spoke so fast and quiet you almost thought he was in trouble, but judging by the way his voice was getting raspy, and the way it cracked at the end of his sentence, you knew he was perfectly fine.

You sighed and set your highlighter down, knowing you wouldn’t be getting back to your studying any time soon.

“Babe? You there? I -“

“Mhmm, ‘m right here.” You cut him off quickly, gnawing at your bottom lip to the sounds of his quiet pants, knowing he was quickly fisting his cock and probably on his lunch break, needing to finish fast, doing his best to cum as quick as he could, and yet he still needed to call you to help him do that? God what an ego boost.

But, you were busy studying. And rarely do you have him in such a powerless position, why not have some fun with him?

“Okay, I’ll help.” You smiled coyly at his sigh of relief.

“Really babe? Oh my g-“

“But promise you’ll do what I say?”

He was silent for a moment, but he knew he didn’t have much time to protest and really, he was putty in your hands right now. He agreed before he could change his mind, and that’s what led him to the position he was in now.

His cock sensitive to the touch and his hair falling out of his bun, his face flushed and looking slightly a mess with the sweat that was beginning to collect on his forehead.

He probably had but two minutes left on his break and he needed to come, bad.

“Please, Jesus fuck I’ve been listening but god I need to cum. I’m -“

“Okay Eren I hear you,” you giggled for a moment and he felt his stomach drop, you were up to something, “why don’t you ask mommy for permission?”

“What?”

You giggled again at his exclamation and knew he was getting frustrated by the groan he let out, but you were having too much fun, and you wanted to see how far you could push him.

“You heard me, you wanna cum so bad? Call me mommy and beg for it.” You sighed and sat back in your chair. He should’ve expected you to do something to get back at him for bothering you while you were busy, what either of you weren’t expecting though was how quickly he caved.

“Mommy, please.” His voice cracked from the dryness of his throat as he whimpered out his plea, not expecting it to send your stomach into a frenzy.

“God please let me cum, please mommy, please.”

“Y-yeah okay, go on and finish.” You sat in shock as you heard his sweet moans come through the phone, an octave higher than they’d usually be.

“I-, fuck, I gotta go back to work. You really cut it close babe. See you when I get home.” He hung up quickly, hoping it didn’t come off as rude - he just had little to no time to clean himself up before he had to clock back in.

But it didn’t matter cause you were still reeling from the way he so freely whimpered out mommy, and how enticing it sounded coming from him.

Hmm, you had a lot to think about.

———————

THIS IS MY FIRST KINDA DOM READER THING SO PLS GIVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS YOU KNOW I LOVE THEM and ily it’s been a while since I posted :) <3

taglist: @plutowrites @armins-futon @peachysimp @semisgroupie (I hope it’s ok to tag you it’s kinda subby boys so I thought you might be interested 🧍‍♀️)

#[h*rny.hours😐]#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein smut #eren x reader #eren smut #armin x reader #armin smut #aot x reader #aot smut #snk x reader #snk smut #eren jaeger x reader #armin arlert x reader #jean smut #jean x reader #eren jeager smut #AY YALL LISTEN THIS IS LIKE KINDA MY FIRST DOM READER THING IM POSTING LIGHT THIS MF UP PLEASE

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honeymoonjin · 3 years

Text

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: both non-sexual and sexual pet play, dom!jimin, sub!jk, sub!tae, handjob, yoongi and yn pretending like they don't wanna suck the souls out of each other, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mutual masturbation

A/N: welcome back to my best boys ;;;;-; this chapter is being cross-posted from ao3. in the future i'll try and upload in both places at the same time!

DAY TWENTY-THREE

It’s two blocks of pure ice that wake Taehyung up that Tuesday morning. Before he’s even really coherent, he’s hissing and tucking into a ball away from the cold.

“Puppy, shh, it’s just me.”

Even as those chilled items that Tae can tentatively identify as feet tuck between his bare legs, he goes lax and accepts the body that wraps around his curled back. “Minnie,” he mumbles, and it’s so quiet that the older boy probably doesn’t hear, but his grip tightens anyway. “‘What time ‘s it?”

“Early, I’m sorry.” Jimin’s voice, unlike his thawing toes, blows warm across the back of Taehyung’s neck. “Missed you.”

A sleepy smile of bliss crosses Taehyung’s face for exactly three seconds, at which point he recalls the fact that he didn’t go to sleep alone tonight. Shooting up so quickly that his shoulder catches Jimin’s chin, Taehyung peels his eyes open to see Jungkook, awkwardly hugging a pillow to his chest with his legs crossed.

He bites his lip, avoiding their gazes. “Sorry, I, uh, don’t mean to disturb.”

“Shoot.” Jimin rubs his face blearily. “I didn’t see you there, Jungkookie. I should go-”

“No, no, stay,” Taehyung begs hurriedly, launching himself back onto the mattress and wiggling himself back into the curve of Jimin’s front. “Jungkook, um, you can come cuddle too if you want. I like being middle spoon.”

The youngest gazes back and forth at them, never resting long enough for eye contact. His indecision is palpable, but there’s a pleased glimmer too. “Is that...okay with Jimin-hyung? I don’t wanna intrude.”

Jimin’s voice is soft, his eyes slipping closed as he eases his face into the crook of Taehyung’s neck, arms snaking around his torso. “You can be a part of us too, Jungkookie.”

The words are perhaps more intimate than Jimin even realises, and in the vulnerable setting of a bed in the early morning hours, Jungkook’s hard swallow is audible, before he slowly puts the pillow aside and tucks his feet under the covers, slipping down. It’s not until Taehyung’s arm is his headrest and the other one provides a comforting weight low on his hips that he speaks up again. “Do you… do you mean that just for now, or… Or for good?”

“What do you think, Minnie?” Taehyung’s fingertips trace lazily over the bare skin that’s exposed by Jungkook’s shirt riding up. “Can we keep him?”

Jimin hums in affirmation. He’s just about asleep again, but Taehyung can feel his pleased smile against his shoulder. “Of course we can, puppy.”

The repeated nickname causes Taehyung’s heart to twitch just as his dick does. It’s no less endearing and special, but Jungkook is still perfectly awake and right there, and it feels a little confronting.

But Jungkook just chuckles, twisting around in Taehyung’s slack embrace to face him, eyes bright. “If you’re a puppy, what am I?”

Taehyung’s careful not to jostle Jimin. He’s begun snoring, nothing more audible than regular snuffling, but still Tae doesn’t want to disturb that rest. “What do you mean, Jungkookie?”

He scrunches his nose, thinking away. “Well, there’s Minnie and there’s puppy. I want a cute nickname too if I’m gonna be - you know - with you guys.”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung begins haltingly, “Jimin calls me puppy because… God, it feels silly saying it out loud. He calls me puppy because sometimes when we’re together I go into puppyspace. You know; like petplay.”

“That’s not silly,” Jungkook says reflexively, even as his eyes widen and lips part. “What’s it like?”

“Puppyspace?” Taehyung asks. Jungkook nods eagerly, and the motion is transferred through Tae where they connect, making Jimin grunt and bury his nose deeper into the crook of his neck. “It’s so peaceful, Jungkookie. He takes care of me so I don’t have to think. I can nap and cuddle and play, without all of the stresses of life. It feels all warm and cosy, you know? I love it.”

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle in wonder, his fingers finding their way to Taehyung’s worn black sleepshirt, fiddling with the hem. “Can I try? How do you… how do you know if you can do it?”

Behind Taehyung, Jimin lets out a half-asleep groan, his nose pressing against the taller one’s back. “Of course you can try. Let’s just sleep for now, though? I’m sure Minnie can play with both of us later.”

It’s that promise that allows Jungkook to settle, nodding with a tentative hum and shifting down so that his head can rest in the crook of Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung falls back under like this, with a heartbeat thrumming against his back and soft, even breaths tickling his bared shoulder.

“Hobi?”

Hoseok pauses, frothed toothbrush clamped between his teeth. “Mmng?”

“I don’t-” you cut yourself off, clearing your throat to dislodge the thickness that distorts your voice. “Can we not tell them?”

He bends over to quickly spit out the majority of toothpaste, but when he stands upright to face you again there’s a smear on his chin. “Tell them what?”

You blink. “Last night. I just… I don’t want them to- to pity me or treat me like I’m glass or anything. I know it won’t happen again, it was just…” Shrugging hopelessly, you give up on trying to put words to it. “I don’t know.”

The dom remains silent for a few moments, lips pursed in thought. “The chicken must have been bad,” he concludes.

Bewildered, you cock your head to the side. “Huh? What chicken?”

“You and I went out for dinner at this fried chicken place, but when you got home last night it made you sick. That’s why you aren’t quite yourself today. I’ll get Yoongi-hyung to make some hangover soup.” His eyes are warm, pulling you into a comforting one-armed hug. “Just the chicken, that’s all. Yeah?”

You swallow down the swell of gratitude and instead bury yourself into his safe embrace. “Yeah. That’s all.”

To his credit, Yoongi doesn’t ask questions, pushing all his concern into his cooking. The doctor all but feeds you himself, hovering with a furrowed brow and a napkin. Strangely enough, his fussing goes a long way in cheering you up, and you let the events of yesterday wash away with the salty broth.

Hoseok hangs around for a while before going down to do some laundry, Namjoon briefly jumps in to steal a spoonful directly from the pan, eyes never leaving the novel he’s holding open with a single hand. Even Jungkook stumbles in blearily at one point, nose first, requesting an extra two bowls for Jimin and Taehyung as well.

You’re onto your second serving by the time it’s just Yoongi and you. He’s pulled up a chair beside you, cradling a coffee. “I got a text this morning, you know,” he begins gently. “I can ignore it if you’re not up to it.”

It takes you a moment to process his words, recalling Sejin’s instructions the day prior. “It’s your day, then?” He nods silently, scanning you for any reaction. You hum, spoon swirling lazily in the dregs of your breakfast. “I’m up to it,” you answer finally, “if you are.”

“Always,” Yoongi replies immediately, voice bared and soft. His hand passes over yours, squeezing briefly, before he stands up and clears the bowls from the table. “Aspirin is in the pantry if you need it, blue container.”

You give him your thanks, left alone as he disappears upstairs.

Grabbing a glass and pouring yourself some water, you track down the aspirin and take out two tablets, grimacing as the bitterness sticks to your tongue. While you may not actually be sick, a headache was beginning to bloom between your brows.

So much had happened in the past few days, you almost felt like you’d gotten whiplash. The early days of lounging around the house and chasing pleasure seemed so distant. Feelings tangled things up more each day, unraveling quicker than you can get a hold on them.

It wasn’t just you, either. You saw the way the guys looked at each other, how gentle they were, how thoughtful. It was in the little things. Jungkook’s laundry pile started featuring clothes from the other maknaes; Namjoon and Hoseok always sat so close together, even when there was room on the couch; Yoongi had started giving the others bigger portions when he cooked, even as his stayed the same. And Jin…

You startle when a door opens, glass almost slipping from your hands. It’s the unfilmed room across the stairs. You frown as a tall figure slips out, swamped in a massive pink hoodie that you’d never seen in the house before. A sleeve-covered hand reaches up to rub under the hood, dark hair poking out. Your breath catches. Jin…

He moves across the hall gingerly like his body aches, hand never leaving his face as he grumbles sleepily. For a split second, your mind entertains the thought of sprinting past before he sees you, avoiding the conflict that is no doubt upon you.

But only for a split second. Because the only thing worse than being confronted by him is not seeing him at all. You wait, instead, until he rolls his shoulders back, tipping his face to the ceiling to stretch out his spine. The hood falls back, exposing a serious case of bedhead, tired eyes, and sallow skin. But it’s Jin nonetheless, beautiful despite his apparent exhaustion, and your heart breaks again for being the one to cause this.

He notices you when his head comes back down from the stretch, and were you not in such despair you may have cracked a smile at the way he jumps. “Y/n…” he mumbles, voice barely audible.

Your mouth goes dry. Even if it wasn’t you don’t know what to say, simply bracing yourself for anger.

He doesn’t stiffen his features, however, simply watching you with melancholy eyes. “You look sad,” he says weakly.

Your heart is racing a hundred beats a second at just hearing him speak to you, and it takes you that much time just to process his words, eyes pricking sharply. “I am sad,” you reply honestly, blinking the wetness away. “You look tired,” you whisper in return.

His bottom lip trembles, before flattening tightly. Instead of responding verbally, he just nods.

The two of you sit in that silence for a while. Jin’s breathing is ragged, his eyes unfocused as they slip past you. You think you might be sick with the way your stomach flips.

Finally, you can’t stand the silence. “Are you still mad at-” you begin, but your words die in your throat as you’re enveloped tightly by him, clutching you so close that your chest constricts. The tensed breath you didn’t know you were holding rushes out of you with a sob, and your arms fly up to hug him back, just as tightly.

There’s nothing more than just a simple hug, but your heart is still full, almost overwhelmed by the cathartic relief of having him close to you again, his chin resting on the crown of your head, his hands rubbing circles on your back, the gentle sway as he rocks you in the hold.

It lasts for an eternity too short, and when he pulls away you feel untethered, already pining for that contact again.

His eyes are swimming, though you see the way he tightens his jaw to hold it back. “I’m devastated,” he admits, “but I miss you too much to ice you out like this. I need time but god, I don’t want space. Can you give me time?”

You’re nodding hastily, sniffing as your nose threatens to run. “Of course, Jin. I’ll be here. I… I think I-”

“Don’t-” he interrupts sharply, sucking in a shaky breath. “Don’t let now be the first time we say it. Later,” he promises.

We. Your skin breaks out in goosebumps, electricity thrumming along your nerves. You let that word settle you, repeating it in your head as Jin sends you a sad smile - but a smile nonetheless - and takes his leave, disappearing upstairs.

You decide to take a bath, in the end, letting yourself soak in the thought of “we” a little longer.

“So, what, we start barking? Chew on some sticks?”

Taehyung colours violently and Jimin sends Jungkook a sharp glare in rebuke. “Say less,” he scolds the youngest, before reaching up to run his fingers through Taehyung’s hair, breaking up the curls. “We just ease into it. Taehyung doesn’t use it for humiliation or anything like that, he just likes being taken care of. Isn’t that right, pup?”

Taehyung hums, eyes already fluttering as he leans his head into Jimin’s palm. The three of them had migrated onto Taehyung’s now-made bed after their breakfast after Jungkook once again mentioned wanting to try petplay.

Significantly larger than Jimin, Taehyung has to awkwardly shuffle down the mattress further to rest his head in Jimin’s lap, but Jungkook can immediately see the lines of stress that melt away once he does so. Jimin smooths his hand down to cup the younger’s chin, delicately stroking the soft flesh as if he were patting a sleepy dog.

“You’ll just watch for now,” Jimin instructs Jungkook without removing his gaze from Taehyung, “and if it feels right, you can join in. There are no expectations and no rules, only to respect the process and don’t disrupt Tae’s petspace. Got it?”

Jungkook swallows as Jimin chooses that point to lift his steeled gaze, brows high as he waits for Jungkook to agree. “Got it,” the youngest confirms. He gets comfy, tucking his feet under him and leaning up against the pillows.

“Such a lucky boy,” the dom begins with his voice like melted sugar. “Dogs aren’t meant to be up on the furniture. But you’ve been good lately, so I thought I’d treat you.”

Taehyung’s eyes flutter closed. He shuffles slightly, stretching one leg out until his ankle dangles off the edge of the mattress, but doesn’t audibly respond.

Jimin chuckles fondly through his nose, hand running down to rub up and down Taehyung’s clothed tummy, which is now facing upwards. “Oh, pup,” he coos, “you must be tired after the big walk. How about we rest for a bit, and we can play later?” Instead of waiting for a response, the dom just gasps like he’s forgotten something important. “Oh! Your collar! I must’ve taken it off when I took off the leash. Never mind; Jungkook, dear, could you get me the brush and collar out of the bedside table? Bottom drawer.”

It feels like the very particles in the air shift when Jungkook is ripped away from the observer role and into an active participant. He swallows away the dryness in his throat to little avail and nods, fumbling with the drawer handle and pulling out a barely-used hairbrush and velvet dog collar. “These?” he asks redundantly, nerves settling when Jimin gives him a pleased smile and holds out his hand.

“Alright, little puppy,” Jimin announces, his voice lilting easily back into the candyfloss tone that all owners used with their pets. “Let’s give you a brush before we put your collar back on. I don’t want your coat getting matted.”

Taehyung gives a small, throaty hum and lifts himself laboriously up onto his elbows, tipping his head up to his master. Jimin pats his cheek warmly and calls him a good boy, and Jungkook gets a front row seat to the beautiful sight of a sleepy, lusty Kim Taehyung going pink in the face, a shy smile twitching his lip.

‘Brushing his coat’ is just brushing his hair, but even Jungkook can see that the technique is slightly different. Jimin does it slowly, methodically, line by line from the front to the back, then reaching around to the nape of his neck to give it a good brushing there - Taehyung all but shivers at each swoop of the brush - even folding down each ear when he goes past. Watching it is nothing short of mesmerising, and Jungkook feels his spine tingle, wanting to feel it too.

Was it too soon to join? He could always ask for the brush later, he decided. Though even as he reached that conclusion, the thought was slipping out of his mind sand through fingers, hazier and hazier the more he listened to Jimin’s lull tone and watched his patient movements.

“There we go,” the dom whispers, passing the brush over one last time to settle all the curls in their rightful place, “much better now. Chin up, pup; time for your collar.”

Taehyung’s chin lifts the minutest of degrees. Jimin waits for a moment, but the brown-haired boy looks almost like he’s falling asleep on the spot, swaying slightly as his elbows prop him up.

“Silly me,” Jimin tuts with a smile, reaching out to manually adjust Taehyung how he wants him. “Doggies can’t understand human words, can they?” Like a proud parent, he turns to Jungkook, grin widening as he sees the state the boy is in. “I am trying to teach Tae-tae some commands. Sit, lie down, wait. Suck. He’s getting better.”

With that, the dom grabs the collar off the duvet and fiddles with the buckle, undoing it so that he can wrap it carefully around Taehyung’s neck. The process reminds Jungkook much of what happened when his parents put a collar on his childhood dog: slipping a finger under the material to test how snug it was, shifting it around until the small dangling pendant was to the front, giving it a little tug to ensure the buckle was on right.

At the gentle tug, Taehyung practically topples, going lax with his face down on Jimin’s thigh and snuggling down, breaths even. Jimin doesn’t comment on it, simply humming in acknowledgement and returning to softly stroking his back and shoulders. But he does glance over to Jungkook again, eyes glinting. “Do you wanna come a little closer, hm?”

At the invitation, Jungkook almost trips himself scooting over, wrapping his arms around one of Jimin’s and holding it to his chest. Seeing the tender moment shared between Taehyung and Jimin had made him feel positively touch-starved, desperate to feel some of that sweet attention.

Jimin’s eyes widen in bemusement before twisting his hand in Jungkook’s grip and giving his stomach a little scratch. “Goodness me, little energizer bunny, huh?”

Jungkook whines, recognising that higher-pitched voice. He was being talked to like a pet, and the thought made his insides hot. He presses his face against Jimin’s shoulder, feeling the heat on his skin there too.

“No need to get all shy on me now, bun,” Jimin teases. “I’ve already seen that little friend in your pants. Well, I suppose he’s not that little.”

Jungkook tightens his arms around Jimin’s one, wanting to rock his hips up to feel some friction. He just squirms instead, hoping his need is answered. “Jimin-hyung.”

Jimin sucks in a breath. “Can this bunny speak, hm?”

Jungkook blinks, the furnace inside him cooling for a moment. “Am I not… supposed to?”

“I’m not telling you off, I’m asking,” Jimin explains softly, cocking his head down at the potentially-sleeping Taehyung in his lap. “Tae-tae likes to be non-verbal. It’s just preference. Would you rather keep speaking?”

After a moment of thought, Jungkook nods, then props his chin up, sending Jimin his best puppy eyes. “Minnie, I need you,” he pleads in a small voice, writhing against him again.

Jungkook’s fingers curl when Jimin’s hand dips lower suddenly, grasping his length from over the fabric of his sleep shorts. The pleasure is like a bolt that shocks his whole body, and when Jimin strokes him once, the texture of the fabric increasing the friction, the guttural sound that falls from his lips is more animal than human.

Jimin just smiles placidly, patting the throbbing heat once. “Does it hurt, bun? Want me to make it go away?”

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook’s breath is shallow with excitement. This feels like new territory, relying fully on Jimin to relieve the ache, too helpless, too stupid to do anything about it himself, just a dumb bunny with a generous owner.

“You’re drooling, bun,” Jimin points out, voice raspy with arousal. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Jungkook feels fingers at the elastic band of his shorts before Jimin withdraws. He whines, a pout threatening to form, but the dom just runs his fingers and palm over Jungkook’s mouth and chin. Then, when his hand delves in and grips Jungkook, he’s slick with Jungkook’s own drool, the slide wet and hot and electric.

He moans, but saliva won’t stop gathering in the hollows of his mouth. It’s like it’s impossible to close it at all, every firm, purposeful stroke making it harder to do that basic function.

“Noisy boy,” Jimin scolds, though there’s no venom to his tone. “You might wake the puppy up, bun.”

With a strangled groan, Jungkook’s head flops down, his teeth banging against Jimin’s shoulder. A thought floats across his dazed mind, of pressing his teeth into skin, lovebites to colour the bronze.

But his teeth don’t sink into flesh. Fabric fills his mouth. Jimin’s shirt. His teeth don’t stop, though. On the contrary, he chews on the cotton, letting it muffle the sounds he can’t help but make.

“Oh, good boy,” Jimin praises warmly, his hand speeding up mercilessly to pitch Jungkook over the edge. There’s no foreplay, no kisses or teasing touches. His hard cock is a problem that his master is kind enough to solve, that Minnie-hyung is making go away, and he won’t stop until his bunny has finally-

When Jungkook comes, his whole body feels it like an earthquake. Every muscle jerks, pulses so that his toes curl and his core trembles, the drool soaking the fabric of Jimin’s shirt now until he feels it run down his own neck, blubbering through the waves of it.

Jimin slows down after the first burst of cum, but doesn’t stop, only tightening his grip like he’s milking every last drop out.

Once the tides of pleasure have dipped back down again, Jungkook goes boneless, whimpering until the hand finally leaves his softening, oversensitive cock.

He’s panting, all of his body weight on Jimin to stay upright, and it takes a few moments for his senses to properly return to him, his heart still beating erratically in his chest. “Oh, fuck.”

Jimin giggles elfishly, before reaching up to tap on Jungkook’s bottom lip with wet fingers. “You made such a mess, little bunny. Clean it up, now.”

Jungkook welcomes the digits, blinking blearily as the bitter tang of his own cum fills his mouth. He sucks Jimin’s fingers clean two at a time, swirling his tongue between them dutifully. It isn’t until he’s done and Jimin is praising him that he restores enough energy to sit up again.

Across from him, Jimin peels the soaking wet sleeve of his shirt off his shoulder, laughing softly in good humour even as his brows furrow at the weird feeling. Before Jungkook can offer up an apology, Jimin is stripping it off entirely, chucking it away and rubbing at his now-bared chest. “Much better,” he muses to himself. After a moment of letting Jungkook clear his head, Jimin turns to him, his dry hand returning to lazily card through Taehyung’s curls. “How was it, Jungkook?”

“Uh,” Jungkook replies eloquently, feeling the way his cock still throbs every few seconds in aftershocks. “Uh.”

“That’s what I thought,” Jimin states proudly, before sending Jungkook a serious gaze. “We’ll talk later, yeah? When your dick isn’t hanging out.”

Jungkook flushes, scrambles to tuck himself away, and the movement jostles the bed enough that Taehyung groans, craning his neck up with bleary eyes and rumpled hair.

The two sitting on the bed go silent. Jimin cocks his head to the side and cups Taehyung’s cheek. “Were you- Tae-tae, did you just have a nap in the middle of the scene?”

Taehyung beams sleepily, eyes still lidded. “Mm.”

“Tae! Are you out of petspace now?”

“Think so.” With a dramatically loud cry, Taehyung reaches an arm up into a deep, arching stretch, rubbing at his eyes once he’s done. “Mm, yeah, definitely. My foot has kinda gone dead too.”

As Taehyung sits up to rub at his foot, pressing his thumbs into the muscle, Jimin’s shoulders sink with a deep pout. “Tae-tae,” he whines again, “you know I like playing with puppy.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung replies easily, though it doesn’t sound like he is in the slightest, “I guess I just wanted to destress more than anything. I didn’t sleep so well last night.”

Jimin’s face softens, his complaints dissolved at Taehyung’s words. Without a verbal reply, he just reaches out, hooks his finger on the neckline of Taehyung’s shirt, and pulls him in for a kiss, humming into it slightly.

The movements, the touches are so natural and intimate that Jungkook feels like he’s intruding. It only lasts a moment before they break apart to go shower, but it’s enough time to sear the sight behind Jungkook’s eyelids. Maybe he’d been allowed to join them in their scenes, even cuddle with them, but he wasn’t a part of that bond that tied Jimin and Taehyung so strongly together. The thought sinks in his stomach, and he decides to skip the shower, getting dressed instead for a long workout downstairs.

When you knock on his door, Yoongi is at his desk, a pair of black-framed reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He glances up, an eyebrow lifting in mild surprise.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You muffle a smile at his domestic getup - a grey t-shirt hangs off, far too big for him but outlining his chest and strong shoulders nonetheless, and his long black sweatpants all but cover his bare feet, toes tapping the carpet unconsciously as he waits for your reply. “I’ve been informed that today is your day.”

“Ah, checking in to the Fuck Hotel, I see,” he quips casually, slipping his glasses of and shutting the lid of the laptop he was working on. “We do have one vacancy.”

“Is that so?” you say, unable to stop your grin as he stands up from his office chair and rolls his head back like an athlete warming up.

“Comes with a continental breakfast,” he assures, before ducking his head with a sheepish chuckle. “God, hyung is becoming a bad influence on my sense of humour.” With slightly pink cheeks, he stretches out a hand towards you, before jerking it back and freezing, fingers curled and tensed. “Wait. Shit.”

You frown, glancing down at yourself, but nothing seems out of the ordinary. “What is it?”

“Hm. I just remembered my prompt, is all.” He takes a step back with a thoughtful furrow of his brows, clenching his hands into fists and putting them behind himself. “Dammit, I was meant to think of a game plan but I got distracted sorting out- uh- client emails.”

“Was this a bad time?” you ask with a light laugh, even as you cast a guilty glance towards the laptop. A month in and he was still doing work?

“No! No, it’s fine, it’s just…” Wincing, Yoongi scratches at the back of his neck and takes another step back, gesturing down at himself, and at the messy work desk. “I’m not in sexy mode yet. I look like a stay-at-home dad trying to work out how to order groceries online while my toddler is finally having her 2pm nap.”

You pause before an incredulous laugh bubbles out of your throat. “Okay, first of all, I think stay-at-home dads are very sexy, and I happen to think that you are very sexy. Secondly, ‘her?’ Why was that whole analogy so specific?”

Yoongi huffs defensively, petulantly throwing himself down to sit on the bed with his legs splayed wide. “I used to have a life plan, okay? But that’s not relevant now. The point is, I haven’t worked out how to do a good scene. I don’t want to it to be disappointing. Or, god forbid, boring.”

Your frown just deepens. “It doesn’t need to be an elaborate setup, Yoongi. Just fuck me. Touch me, at least. I can’t believe we’re still both wearing all our clothes when I’ve been very explicit about my intentions.”

You don’t miss the wince that flutters across his face. “That’s kinda the issue. Touching you, I mean.”

“You don’t wanna touch me?”

“I-” Yoongi all but stomps his foot, teeth clenching in frustration. “Of course I fucking want to, but I have to stick to my prompt, Y/n.”

Your mouth drops open. “So your prompt is that we can’t even touch each other? Doesn’t exactly sound very appealing for a porn show.”

He clicks his tongue. “You can still touch me,” he corrects with a dry gaze.

Unconvinced, you narrow your eyes. “Isn’t that convenient?” you question rhetorically. “Gonna make me do all the work this week because you haven’t organised it in your planner yet, Doctor Min?”

He glares at your teasing tone. “Excuse me for trying to play the game properly.” You swallow as his eyes run down your body heavily, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. “If I could touch you, trust me, I’d have you dripping by now.”

Your thighs tighten, but you force them not to move. The last thing you want him to know is that you’re just about dripping already. “Sounds to me like you’re just lazy.” He doesn’t react, watching you make up your mind. You suck in a breath to hype yourself. “If I walk away right now, you’ll get nothing. Not only will you lose your prompt, but you’ll be stuck with blue balls. But if you give in and fuck me already, then you’ll only lose the prompt.”

“Who says I’ll even have blue balls? I’m perfectly comfortable,” he fires back immediately, tipping his head to the side cockily.

“Oh, please,” you drawl, letting your eyes fall to the sizeable bulge beneath his sweatpants, “you aren’t that big soft. Don’t kid yourself. So do you wanna get off, or not?”

His gaze hardens to stone, jaw flexing. “I’m surprised you think I need you for that. Aside from the fact that there are six other people in this house, I brought a fleshlight from home for a reason.”

Now that is something you hadn’t expected him to say. You freeze from your spot in the doorway, feeling heat pulse between your legs. Your spark of resistance is quickly fading, overtaken by need, so you don’t hesitate in firing back while you can. “If you think your fleshlight is better than me, then that’s your loss. Enjoy the bunkbeds; I’m off to do what you’re too cowardly to.”

“Have fun, sweetheart,” he snips, one of his hands sneaking under his shirt to rub his lower abdomen, fingers slipping below the hem of his sweats. “Shut the door on your way out.”

Feeling like you’ve lost the argument (and a little too horny to care) you have your final say by slamming it, thumping your feet with every step down the hall to your room.

Once inside, it takes mere seconds to throw yourself onto your bed back-first and shove your hand down your pants. But then, before you even dip into your wetness, a thought strikes you.

Pulling your hand out and making your way to your desk, you use your other hand to clumsily type in your password, and open a browser. It doesn’t take long to navigate to the page with all the paid streams for your own show, and with a slight flush you select Yoongi’s bedroom, impatiently punching in your credit card details.

After an agonising wait, the payment is processed and you’re brought to a private livestreaming site, a single window open in front of you.

The angle itself is strange, making Yoongi’s room look larger than it was, but you’re surprised at just how high quality the video and sound is once you bring it to full screen and slip your headphones in your ears. Yoongi is hunched over his nightstand, and you can actually hear the wooden slide faintly in the background as he opens and closes a drawer, returning to his office chair with a seemingly-transparent fleshlight and a bottle of lube.

Something about watching him through a camera in the corner of his room feels so wrong, especially as he palms impatiently at the tent in his pants, uncapping the lube and pouring a generous amount into the opening of the toy. You’d never been much of a voyeur - or, at least, so you thought - but you couldn’t take your eyes off him, blinding slipping your hands down your pants but over your underwear, simply pressing down on your clit to ease some of the crying need.

Oddly, the lube pours down and begins to drip out the other side, creating a dark patch on his clothed thigh. The audio picks up Yoongi cursing, and there’s no further preamble before he’s using one hand to hook down his sweatpants and kick them off to pool on the floor. The motion causes his cock to jerk up onto his stomach, leaving a smear of precum on his grey shirt, visible only by a few pixels of darker grey.

He scoots a little down the seat of the chair and hitches a leg up over one of the arms, eyes slipping closed as the hand not holding the dripping fleshlight grips his own cock, thumb pressing at the head.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans lowly, the sound running through your headphones and straight down between your legs. His brows are furrowed like it’s almost paining him, but he hovers the opening of the fleshlight over his tip as if he’s trying to hold back.

Slowly, he lowers the toy down one inch at a time, until the lube is drooling over his cock. Finally, the transparent toy slips down over his cock and his hips jump off the chair, his knuckles white on the arm of the chair and the fleshlight as he growls and lifts it back off again.

The sight of him intentionally teasing himself is too erotic for you to stay unmoving, and you find yourself burning up, losing the headphones for a moment to shuffle out of your own clothes. You hurry as much as you can, grimacing at your sopping panties, but by the time you’re back in your chair with nothing but a bra and tuning back into the stream, Yoongi’s not even focused on his toy anymore.

It sits propped up on his thigh, with two of his fingers lazily, almost absentmindedly thrusting deeply inside of it to keep it steady as the rest of him swivels in his chair to open his laptop again.

You frown and squint at the tiny screen on the stream. Rows of fuzzy squares stack up, and while you can’t be certain the phallic shapes of some of the miniscule images inside them make you think he was on a sex toy website.

He quickly opens a new tab, however, and your heart begins to beat nervously as a familiar page comes up. One you’d been on just earlier.

With bated breath you wait, hands grasping at the meat of your thighs and clothed breast to hold off on touching between your legs just yet. Yoongi navigates the Bangasm page, going through the same payment process you did.

It isn’t until you’re met with a miniature version of your own room on his screen that you realise what’s happened. And it’s when Yoongi squints and leans in closer, before turning to face the camera directly with a bewildered look, that you know you’ve been caught.

Frozen, you watch the on-screen, Yoongi look back and forth twice, before slowly scooting his chair back on an angle to the table, so that the laptop is in eyeshot even as his body is facing the camera fully.

Your mouth is dry, but the fleshlight he picks up again is wet, so wet that his fingers glisten, almost slipping off the toy entirely. He holds it tightly, transferring it to his dominant hand and teasing the top over his tip, biting hard on his lip.

The squeeze you have on your thigh is almost painful as your core burns, but you’re too stunned still to move, watching him dance the opening of the fleshlight over his cock, never dipping it inside.

With a twitching grin and lusty eyes, he glances towards the laptop. Your whole body feels hot as you glance over your shoulder to the camera in your room, before looking back at the screen. He’s not moving, chest visibly heaving even as he stares patiently at the computer screen.

He’s… waiting for you.

With one strangled breath, you tilt your chair away from the desk, adjusting your own laptop in a similar setup to him. Eyes locked on the stream, terrified you’ll miss a single moment of him indulging himself, you let your fingers uncurl from your inner thigh and trail them down, wasting no time in automatically locating your clit, massaging around the small bud.

Pleasure flows through you like hot water, down to your toes. After holding out for so long, after being so aroused for so long, the simplest touch has your knees weak and your head lolled back against the headrest.

On screen, Yoongi’s grin widens, and he rewards you by lowering the fleshlight, the clear silicone making way for the tip of his cock. He doesn’t stop there like last time, though; instead, he slowly but surely plunges it all the way down until it’s flush with his pelvis. Your eyes fly open when the flushed head pops out the other side, and Yoongi clearly enjoys it too judging by the way he curses and grips it tight, practically panting.

Without really intending, your fingers dip down and slip inside, two already. You barely feel a stretch with how wet you are. Although the feeling of something inside you is nice, you know your fingers just aren’t enough, especially with the angle of you slumped back in your chair.

So, you chance one look back at the screen - Yoongi is using the tip of one finger to spread his precum around the glossed tip of his cock, but his eyes are firmly locked onto you - and walk on shaky legs to your closet, where an unassuming (and so far unused) black silk bag lies amongst your shoes.

The amount of time it takes for you to duck into the bathroom and quickly wash the silicone vibrator you have with soapy water feels like an eternity, and by the time you hurry back it isn’t the toy that’s vibrating.

Frowning, you hesitantly answer the call that’s coming through on your phone from a familiar contact.

Yoongi’s voice immediately fills the room as the pixelated version on the screen rests his phone on the side of his desk, not jerking but twisting the fleshlight in slow arcs around his cock. “Couldn’t get enough of me, hm?”

“Says the one calling me,” you offer back lightly, switching onto speaker mode so that you can settle back in your chair, “enjoying the view?”

“A little too uneventful for me yet, sweetheart,” he teases, and his breathy groan is timed with the Yoongi on the stream lifting the fleshlight up a little and plunging it down again. “How about you put that toy in your pretty little pussy for me. For us.”

You feel your core pulse at the reminder that it wasn’t just Yoongi on the stream. Any number of anonymous strangers could be tuned in right now, seeing you with your legs spread.

The only way to cope is to lean into it instead of shying away. You slide the black silicone toy through your folds to slick it up, sighing with every light pass over your clit. Once it’s as wet as you are, you press the slightly bulbous tip down until it slips inside you, immediately shivering at the feeling.

The toy is small enough that you don’t need any special prep, yet big enough that it was satisfying, and curved just right. It had been your old reliable long before coming on the show, and there’s something strangely familiar and comforting about feeling it fill you out as you push it in deeper.

“Fuck, there we go,” Yoongi praises, and you hear the wet smacking noise of him snapping his hips up into the toy. “I may not be able to touch you, but you’ll still call my name when you cum for me.”

Your toes curl, and you’re no longer able to focus on the stream, letting your eyes fall shut and your ears tune in to his voice alone as you work the toy in and out of you.

He doesn’t waste any time in joining you, and the resulting sounds that fill your room are obscene, him making no effort to muffle the gravelled curses and moans, nor the wet thwack of silicone that gives away his movements.

The noise is somehow even more thrilling than the sight, and the feeling of his eyes on you encourages you to speed your hand up, even reaching down to desperately rub at your clit with the flat of your fingers, shivering at the wave of pleasure that wracks through your body.

It’s not long before you hear Yoongi’s voice turn guttural and the pace of the flesh light pick up frantically.

You wrench your eyes open and gaze blearily at the computer screen just in time to watch the stream of white that spills up through the back end of the fleshlight and over Yoongi’s knuckles. As hot as the image is, you whine at being made to watch this through the pixels instead of in real life, and the thought of being right fucking across from him as he fell apart is enough to make you seize up in your chair, orgasm draining you thoroughly, with not enough force to squirt but dripping on the seat nonetheless.

You take the toy out once pleasure turns to the sharp tweak of oversensitivity and pant, fighting to catch your breath as your feet feel positively numb.

Coming down from your high, you almost forget the running phone call until you hear his voice come through the speaker again. “Have a shower and then come back down to my room. You’re sleeping with me tonight.”

The beeping tone leaves you alone in your room, and you loll your head back over the edge of the chair with an exhausted moan, not without a grin playing on your lips. You wouldn’t protest to that.

#the gentlemen #tgm #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #vminkook smut #vmin smut #jikook smut #taekook smut #i don't even know how to tag anymore fksdfjsk

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shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

Drunk Yandere Levi taking reader from behind-

huarushdifbkhbfkdafjkafnkas

okeyabhase

(What to expect - NSFW, noncon, dubcon, punishment, slapping, spanking. Clit torture, sex under the influence (alcohol), slight bondage.)

Levi slammed the door, waking you from your fitful sleep.

Your bleary eyes found the clock - 3:28 AM.

The sounds of him rummaging around his office reached your ears, the man having a full bedroom suite attached to his workspace - he was a Captain after all.

“Ssshhitty fuckin’ bratsss, can’t even-nn ffuck!” A crash sounded, followed by the man swearing heavily. His words were slurred slightly, lazy, when they normally were cutting and swift in delivery.

He was drunk.

You curled up on the bed as much as you could, tugging on the long chain connecting your wrist to the headboard to move it to a more comfortable position.

It chafed your wrist, the cuff tight and unforgiving, biting into your skin and bruising your flesh.

No use mentioning it to Levi. The man was aware of the issue, had caught your wrist several times so he could examine the raw red tissue, wrinkling his nose, running his thumb against it and watching you flinch. You’d seen a flash of regret in his eyes, just a hint, but then he steeled himself, dropping your wrist and leaving the room, slamming the door shut on his way out.

A loud thump was heard, closer now, Levi slowly making his way to the bedroom, to you.

You’d never seen your Captain drunk before.

From what you could hear, the man was struggling with his shoes, mumbling something about the “f-fff-f-fucking laces.”

When the door was pushed open, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to even your breathing as you feigned sleep.

Levi stumbled around the room in the dark, clothes rustling, most likely stripping to change into nightclothes.

You know there had been some sort of meeting tonight with the Military Police and the Scouting Regiment, but it was supposed to be over hours ago. Levi and Erwin had probably gone for drinks afterwards, which means the meeting had gone bad.

Really bad.

The bed creaked as Levi sat down heavily, swearing under his breath about this or that, before you felt his body turn towards you.

He was watching you, eyes slipping over your form curled under the blankets, rising and falling with each steady breath.

You prayed that he’d let you sleep. Prayed that Levi would lie down, fall asleep. Prayed that he wouldn’t bother you, touch you with his clean, calloused hands that felt dirty upon your skin.

No such luck.

Hands pulled back the covers, ghosting over your arms as soon as they were bared to the chilled air, making you inhale sharply at the feel of his icy digits. HIs hands were so cold, contrasting against his warm, alcohol-laden breath puffing against your cheek.

It was useless to pretend to be asleep any longer.

Opening your eyes, it was apparent that Levi was drunk, his cheeks flushed, eyes hooded and dark, his movements clumsy as he tried to pull you upright.

“Get-get up (Y/N),”

“Levi...” You sat up slowly, trying to shrink back from his grabby palms, his lusty gaze.

“Come ‘ere, I wanna.... wanna....” His words trailed off, Levi too focused on your breasts underneath your nightgown to form a coherent thought.

Reluctantly, you moved towards him, shuffling forward with a crippling pang of anxiety. Levi was never this unsteady, hands petting over your arms, the man suddenly leaning forward to plant his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply.

“Ah, ssmell good, all ff-fuckin’ clean.” He straightened up again, words slurred, before grabbing your thighs, wrenching you into his lap in one quick movement.

“Levi!” You squeaked, immediately clutching at his shoulders, the lithe man making himself comfortable with his back against the headboard, your weight draped in his lap.

He was completely naked, flesh pressing to yours. Levi was warm, heated underneath you.

Deft fingers were sliding the straps of your nightgown off your shoulders, causing you to blush furiously as the man tried to bare your chest.

Even after all this time, you were still shy of his gaze, uneasy with those light grey eyes scrutinizing you.

“Please stop, you’re drunk.”

“Ss-stop it.” The man barked, fixing you with a hard glare. He wanted you to move your hands from where you had shifted them, using them to keep your nightgown pressed to your chest. “Let me-let me see.”

Biting your lip, you dropped your hands, nightgown falling to pool around your waist. Breasts now bared to the night air, your nipples peaked softly, further attracting Levi’s attention.

“Good, good girl.” The man praised, his calloused palms cupping both mounds, feeling their weight.

You stayed still, felt the man play with your breasts, lifting them, squishing them together, plucking at your nipples. He leaned forward to lick a stripe over one of them, snickering to himself when you gasped.

An almost unheard noise, Levi’s laughter. It made you pause, blinking down at him while the man smiled to himself, apparently pleased.

Levi dropped one hand to the fabric around your waist, pushing it up until he could reach underneath, petting sloppily at your panty-covered sex, fingers missing their mark in his drunken haze.

“Take these-this stuff off.” He commanded, snapping the waistband of your panties with a finger, irritated that they were in the way.

Reluctantly, you started to shift from his lap, only to have Levi hiss, hand tightening around your breast as he gripped your thigh, keeping you on top of him. “Don’t leave, stay rightt here.”

“O-oh, okay.” Figuring he had changed his mind, you settled back onto your rear, Levi’s hand leaving your thigh to paw at your panties again.

“I want-get this... off.” The man was frustrated now, furrowing his brows as he tried to concentrate enough to say the correct words.

“Um, Levi, if you want them off I have to move.” You whispered. A small part of you hoped that the man would leave it be, maybe just want some heavy petting before he passed out. You wondered if Levi had ever experienced a hangover before.

“Ngh, ff-f-fucking-fucking-” No more words, just Levi finally remembering that he could slip your panties to the side, let his fingers press against your cunt.

“You’re gonna-gonna ride me. Do it.” The man slurred.

“Please, Levi. You aren’t thinking straight, you’re drunk, it’s late. Lets just... go to bed? Please?”

Levi shook his head from side to side like a petulant child, lips pulled into a frown. “Nooo, do what I-I want. You are-you’re mine.” He grabbed your jaw, pulling you so he could look into your eyes, hissing. “Mine.”

The grip around your jaw was scaring you, eyes wide as you clutched at his wrist, wanting to pry his hands off you. His hand felt too close to your neck.

But the man wouldn’t budge.

He was waiting, staring at you with half-opened eyes.

“Okay, okay. I’ll do it, ‘m sorry.” You wheezed, and only then did Levi release you.

A shuddery breath left your lungs as you reached down, fumbling for his cock. You wanted to cry as you lifted your hips, lining his length up with your pussy, pressing the bulbous head to your entrance.

“Mm, ffuck.”

Levi’s encouraging groan made your walls clench around nothing, and you cursed your body for it’s reaction, squeezing your eyes shut as you mentally readied yourself.

It hurt, the initial stretch. His cock wasn’t girthy, nor necessarily long, but it was nonetheless a cock, hard and full. Levi didn’t seem to be in the mood tonight to wait for you to stretch yourself out, but the dry slide of him into your cunt made you tremble in pain.

“Levi, it hurts, please, it hurts. No more.”

The tip was barely inside.

Levi rolled his head to the side, brain slowly comprehending your words, before he huffed, reaching for the side table next to the bed, pulling open the little drawer underneath it.

A small bottle of oil was patted against your thigh, Levi holding it out for you to take.

His cock was quickly lubed, Levi’s hands fondling your tits as you slicked up his length with the oil, before you resumed your previous position, tip of his cock pressed to your cunt.

An uncomfortable noise left your lungs as you sank down, a high whine as the stretch from before returned. At least it wasn’t dry now, no prickly pull on your walls, just a constant pressure as his cock filled you.

Levi was breathing hard, despite not doing any of the work, hands clutching at your body greedily.

When you finally fell flush against the base, legs almost cramping from holding you up for so long, you held onto Levi’s shoulders, dipping forward to lean against his chest to give yourself rest.

But the man was impatient, his drunken brain hiding his common sense, his decency, his normal behavior behind impulsive desires and selfish wants.

“C’mon, f-fuckin’ move.”

A half hearted slap against your thigh had you shuddering, knowing the force Levi could apply behind his slaps if he felt you were ignoring him. Better to listen and obey, even if you were still catching your breath, adjusting to the intrusion.

You lifted your hips, Levi’s cock sliding out until you felt the tip almost slip free, before you rocked down, taking him completely.

There was a slow buildup until you found a comfortable rhythm, Levi squeezing his eyes shut and holding onto your tits on a particularly deep press of his cock into your wet cunt, his head falling back to the headboard with a soft thunk.

He was panting, his hips moving underneath you without rhythm, just chasing his release. Levi’s eyes opened blearily, looking up at you with-

“I love you.”

His voice was thick, tired, raspy from talking all evening and using alcohol to drown his vexation towards the Military Police. Levi’s eyes widened just a little bit at his confession, as did yours.

That was never a phrase that had been said. You didn’t know why Levi was doing this to you, perhaps out of some twisted sense of devotion, or maybe because he liked seeing you suffer. You supposed that maybe you were just a cadet chosen out of the crowd to cater to Captain Levi’s more human needs, like intimacy. His methods were never questioned, and you were afraid to poke around for answers.

He’d never said something like that before.

It was shocking, yes, your hips stuttering a moment. But ultimately you brushed it aside, the man was drunk after all, rambling.

You tore your eyes away from his face, closing them as you changed the angle of your hips, his cock hitting a spot inside you that made your pussy throb.

“Oh fuck, ah, mhm-” It was starting to feel good, pleasure pooling in your tummy, and you began to slam yourself down harder, moving faster and faster.

You just needed a bit more-

Taking a hand off Levi’s shoulder, you reached down for your clit, easily sliding your fingers between your bodies. Your clit was already wet, your cunt drooling around Levi’s length, the oil smeared across your thighs.

It was easy to touch yourself the way you liked, and before you knew it, you were working yourself to completion with a cry, furiously rubbing at your clit as you rocked on Levi’s cock.

Panting, you slowly came to a stop, seated on his length, hand still trapped between your bodies, but no longer playing with yourself.

Opening your eyes, you were met with addled fury.

“You weren’t-weren’t suppose-sed to ffucking cum.” He slurred, hands leaving your breasts to clamp onto your hips.

The look in his eyes made you feel cold, yet a hot blush of shame colored your cheeks.

“Get-move-” He panted, almost throwing you off of him, pushing you to the bed with strong hands.

You scrambled to sit upright, chest heaving, pleasurable orgasm long gone and forgotten as you faced Levi.

But the man was grabbing you before you could move, flipping you over and shoving your face into the comforter, shuffling to his knees behind you.

“Wait! Levi-wait, stop!” You tried, but your cries were muffled by the comforter, Levi’s hand steady on the back of your head. His other hand circled underneath your hips, the man grunting as he pulled you up, your knees shoved underneath you.

As soon as you recognized the position, Levi was guiding himself to your pussy, still leaning over your back.

He didn’t hold back, fucking into you messily, no rhythm, just a series of sloppy, uncoordinated thrusts while he panted by your ear.

“Stupid-stupid brat, ugh. You w-were supposed to make me cum first, you-you know the f-fucking rules, ah-!”

Levi straightened up, taking his hand off of your head so he could deliver a brutal smack to your rear, making you yelp in pain, jerking forward.

“Stay-stay the ffuck still you b-brat.”

Another slap, and another, and then Levi was delivering a flurry of spanks, his hand connecting to your rear on each of his thrusts, your eyes squeezing shut, tears dripping down your cheeks.

“Levi!” You whimpered, flinching as his speed increased, the man pounding into you from behind seemingly uncaring of your suffering.

But then he snaking his hand around your hips, fingers fiddling through your folds, slipping against his cock as he struggled to find your clit, his coordination shot with all the booze flowing through his system.

“Sshhut up.”

No more spanking, but you were quickly writhing when Levi finally found you clit, pinching it cruelly between his fingers, pulling.

It hurt so bad, you bucked your hips back, away from his hand, but that only served to spear you further onto his cock. You were weeping, clutching at the blankets, head turned to the side so you could breathe, whimpering for Levi to stop.

But he didn’t.

The pain was becoming too much, sharp and stabbing and it felt like he was trying to break skin with how hard he was pinching. You yelped, a hand shooting down to push at his own, but Levi was too strong to be moved, even when he was drunk and blundering.

“Levi! LeVI STO-OP!” You sobbed, flailing as he pounded you harder. You struggled to support yourself on your hands, trying to rise to your knees so you could scoot away from his assault, or at least cause him to slow down.

And then he was slamming deep, grinding his hips into you in little circles as he came, finally releasing your abused clit from his awful fingers.

The man groaned as he painted your inside with his release, hips still twitching. You sniffled, trying to wipe the snot and tears from your messy face, before ultimately giving up.

Levi pulled out promptly, tugging one of your arms to pull you back towards him as he sank onto his back on the bed. You followed him reluctantly, cringing as you felt his cum slip down your thighs, wincing when your sore, aching clit was stimulated by the press of your thighs.

Pulled down next to him, Levi uncharacteristically nuzzled your neck, snuggling up to you, wrapping his arms around your body.

“Hm, love you sso much.”

And he wasn’t even worried about the mess.

#levi #levi aot #yandere levi #Levi Heichou #Captain Levi #shingeki no kyoujin levi #AoT #aot smut #yandere aot #dark aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin smut #Levi smut #Levi ackerman #levi attack on titan

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salemwritesxx · 3 years

Text

𝓪 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽.

𝕂𝔸𝕄𝔸𝔻𝕆 𝕋𝔸ℕ𝕁𝕀ℝ𝕆

⇴ x male reader [under 5‘0“, merman hashira] ⇴ all characters are depicted as [18]+

↳ summary/request: Part 2 of this.

↣ rating: explicit, 18+ ↣ warnings: smut, monster sex, merman x human, double dicks, double penetration

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Rushing down, Tanjiro met you at the usual isolated little area where you had shared your first kiss. Now, months later, it was still your secret place to meet – not that he or you really hid the fact that you started dating. But it was nice knowing no one would interrupt you or find you there.

“[your.name]?”, he called for you, your name echoing in the silent night that was only disturbed by the sound of ocean waves.

“Jiro? You’re already here?”, a head poked through the surface of the water. As you smiled at him, Kamado also couldn’t help but smile back.

“Mh. I came back as soon as I reported everything.”

“Wait I’ll come out then-“

“No.”, he surprised you a little, though the smile on his lips didn’t falter, “I’ll come in, [your.name]!”

Thus, you watched as he slipped off his haori, letting it fall onto the ground, before his uniform followed, one piece after another. Tanjiro was not shy anymore like a few months ago. Instead, even though he had scars from battles, he confidently took off everything until he was completely naked.

And you just look at him in awe – he was so pretty. You loved him so much.

“Ah, it’s cold.”, Tanjiro giggled and gasp at the same time when he swiftly jumped into the cool ocean water.

“That’s why I told you I’d come out.”, you laughed and your arms opened immediately, inviting him. And certainly, you didn’t have to say anything as he swam the last few feet to get to you, strong arms wrapped around your neck in an instant.

“Nhn.”, he shook his head and leaned in, softly kissing your lips, “[Your.name]… I wanna go all the way today.”

His sudden request surprised you, though before you could say anything, his ruby eyes met your own [eye.color] ones – he was determined. Even though he looked so confident, you still breathed a mere, “Are you really…?”

“Yes.”, Tanjiro whispered back and cuddled his head against yours. His naked body was pressed against your own and his legs wrapped around your fishtail.

“Then, I won’t hold back, my love.”, you smiled at last.

Those words alone made his heart jump in his chest, only for Tanjiro to softly whine when you buried your hand in his hair to pull him close. Your lips collided and his arms tightened around your neck, knowing, even though you were still smaller in your merman form than him, you would hold him up and not let him drown – well, only drown in the sweet bliss and pleasure.

“Ah-“, a choked moan escaped his lips, only to bite it in order to not get too loud as your fingers were stirring up his insides; penetrating that sweet spot of his while he was barely able to keep it together, hanging onto you in the water and trying to touch you as well.

You two did have sex before in your merman form, but today was special, because today, he finally wanted to be fucked by both of your cocks. Tanjiro had been longing for it for quite some time after all.

“[Your.name]!”, whining your name, his glazed, ruby eyes were half open as he looked at you. Though closing them instinctively when you came closer to kiss him, his heart made three flips just from such sweet gestures.

“Ahnh mhnnghH!”, Tanjiro couldn’t stop moaning against your lips, not when you entered a third finger to spread his ass. Your own cocks were excitingly throbbing and twitching against the palm of his calloused hand as he wanted to touch and stimulate you as well.

Your tongues were playfully fighting, muffling his moans like that, while his hand was holding onto your shoulder, the other wrapped around one of your dicks. His own cock was leaking so much precum already, everything getting washed away by the ocean waves and yet, your body kept him from floating anywhere, strongly pressed against you.

“[Your.name]…”, whimpering against your lips, Tanjiro pulled back at last, gasping softly and drool dripping from his lips.

“You’re so cute, Tanjiro.”, you smiled gently, but the gleaming in your [eye.color] eyes told him everything. You were just as aroused as him and it made him so unbelievably happy.

“AHN!”, and then, he couldn’t muffle his aroused moan when all three digits of yours were thrusted inside fully. With shaking legs and shivering hands, he grip you even tighter, your own low moan vibrating in your chest as he pumped your cock harder.

“[Y-your.n-name], I… I am ready. Please.”, his lips brushed against your own, “Do it. L-love me.”

“Being this cute must be seriously prohibited!”, you thought while smashing your lips on his, his desperate moan and the way he held on were just so arousing, you could barely hold back.

Pulling out your fingers, Tanjiro moaned into the kiss once more, before you gently pushed his hand away from one of your weirdly curved, inhuman cocks. Instead, you placed his arm around your shoulder, breathing a mere “Hold on, Darling.” while your hand slipped down to his ass once more.

Massaging his cheeks with both hands, you spread them and pulled him closer, a lustful hiss escaping your lips against your lovers, Kamado only whining and kissing you deeper in response. Thrusting lightly, you rubbed both of your cocks between his ass, the long, twisted tips brushing against his twitching hole seriously driving him crazy - you were such a tease.

But then, you used your hand to adjust your cocks and in the end, pressing them both against his hole, you started to push, his ass opening up almost immediately, sucking you in eagerly. Once both of your cockheads were in, Tanjiro’s ragged breathing calmed down a bit, yet he knew, there was something much thicker waiting for him.

“Tanjiro. Tell me if it’s too much.”, you mumbled against his lips, kissing them over and over again and he returned every little one of them.

“Mhmm”, an approved, high-pitched whine was all he could do.

Your movements were slow as you eased into his tight ass, spreading him more and more as he was pushed down onto your cocks. He was moaning and grunting, especially when you started playing with his own dick, jolts of pleasure mixed with discomfort made it much easier to take both of your cocks at once.

As you pushed his ass down, the base of your curved, twisted cocks got thicker with more bumps, making Tanjiro gasp in delight as the little nubs brushed against his twitching insides. His hole was tightening and sucking you in more. And at last, he was pressed fully against your scaly skin.

“God…. your such a Good Boy, aren’t you, Tanjiro?”, your inhuman purr was intense and all he could do was nod and hiccup your name.

Staying connected like this for a second, Kamado adjusted to the thickness and lengths of your dicks more easily than you thought, and before you knew it, he softly tried to sway his hips, making you hiss. He wanted to be fucked – now.

So, you granted him his wish.

“Hold on tight!”, was the last thing you grumbled deeply, before your hips started moving, immediately sending Tanjiro flying.

Due to your very special form changing ability, you easily moved underwater, thus slamming your cocks into him without the water disturbing your movements or strength.

“AHNH! AHHhh NHHH [Your.name]! [YOUR.NAME]!”, he didn’t care to hold back his voice anymore, moaning loudly and freely into the night. He always enjoyed making love, but being fucked by both of your cocks at once was a new level of ecstasy he didn’t know he could reach.

Tears of pleasure were dripping down his cheeks and his cock was throbbing in your pumping hand, never letting him even breathe for a second as you drilled your dicks into him relentlessly. Tanjiro’s legs were shaking and he knew, if it wasn’t for you holding him, he would probably drown with how utterly unable he was to think one straight, coherent thought.

“AH I- I- Ah- Love yOU!”, Tanjiro sobbed. Every time, he still thought he was dreaming. Being together with you, was like a dream.

And even though, it had been months since your confession, he still was so lucky and happy that it almost hurt.

“I love you, too, Jiro!”, your own grunted answer made his heart flip.

The friction of your cocks rubbing together, and from being engulfed by his hot, tight ass was almost too much to handle for you. God, he just felt so fucking amazing. How his body melted against your own so perfectly and even though the ocean water was pretty cold, Tanjiro himself was burning up.

“D-Darling, I’m… close…”, pressing those words out between gritted teeth was the only thing you could do before another moan spilled from your lips, feeling almost too overwhelmingly good. Now, that Tanjiro could fit both of your dicks at once, it truly was almost too much.

“[Y-Your.name]- AHn! M-me… Me too… Hnnn-!”, stuttering your name, he threw his head back at last when you started teasing his sensitive cockhead with your thumb.

One last time, your free hand grabbed his ass, your nails digging into his flesh as you pressed him against your body. Your tail was thrashing in the water as you raggedly started shoving your cocks into his ass. His hole being so sloppy and wet due to all the precum you were leaking.

“Ah, AH! Ughhnh-!”, Tanjiro couldn’t hold back his moans, his legs were shaking due to being penetrated so vigorously and your hand playing with his dick. All he could do was lean his forehead against your own and let the burning sensation in his abdomen take over.

And once that happened, it was over.

His cock was throbbing and bouncing in your hand from the strong orgasm sweeping through his body. Squirting cum into the ocean, his body spasming from the intense feeling while his mouth was hanging open as he tried to desperately gasp for breath – though getting interrupted by his pleasurable cries and sobs.

As Tanjiro was tightening so much around your cocks, it was almost unbearable for you. Grabbing him tightly and following him with your own release. Your deep, delightful moans and little grunts mixed with his own aroused sounds. Dicks vividly throbbing and moving, you filled him up with your cum. His ass overflowing almost immediately and releasing your seed back into the ocean, even though you had stuffed him full with your cocks.

“Ahn- d-don’t… pull out… yet…”, Tanjiro barely stammered as he buried his face at your shoulder to calm down. You just purred and nodded while also showering his face and the side of his head with kisses. Using your tail, you slowly swam back to the shores, since you had drifted off quite a lot.

Kamado just enjoyed those sweet gestures since his body was limp anyways from being fucked too good. Though, when you reached the little isolated beach again, you pulled yourself and him out of the water, just so it was barely reaching your hips.

Looking down your body from the corner of his eyes, he watched as your fishtail transformed back into human legs. And with that, a soft moan and grunt escaped his lips as your cocks slipped out (to transform back as well); releasing all that cum that you had stuffed him with, having it drip down over his balls and into the water.

“I love you.”, you said in a hushed voice while kissing his forehead. Tanjiro just smiling as he cuddled against your smaller body, his legs tangled with yours and his hand also reaching for your own.

“I love you too, [your.name]! I love you… so much…”, he tiredly mumbled back, before taking your hand and squeezing it softly.

Thankfully, it was a warm summer night, thus you could both savor the moment a little longer, laying together in the warm sand and caressing each other.

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@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

⇻ salem.talks: like I promised, the spicy part! also thanks to some nice encouragement and ideas, I tried to “personalize” my posts without using banners and just some different fonts and symbols and general new stuff. so far, I like it :)

#salemswriting.#kamado tanjiro #tanjiro x male reader #kny x male reader #bottom tanjiro #tanjiro smut #tanjiro x you #mermay2021 #male reader insert

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makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 315: I Didn’t Expect This to Blow Up

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “guess which plot that you thought was dead is actually not dead and is making a comeback!” and we were all “EVIL HPSC??” and he was all “girl you know it,” and that’s the story of how we got a sexy Lady Nagant flashback with lots of guns and murder. Flashback!Lady was all “gotta murder peeps to preserve the people’s trust,” but then a little while later she was like “actually wait that makes no sense,” and so she shot her evil boss and they sent her to jail. Back in the present, Deku was all “okay fair, the hero system might in fact be a little fucked up, but hear me out... have you considered not helping AFO take over the world so he can murder like a bazillion more innocent people??” The chapter ended with the not-all-there Overhaul finally revealing himself to Deku, and I honestly have no idea where this is gonna go.

Today on BnHA: In what is unfortunately the single worst plan ever concocted by anyone in BnHA, Nagant is all “I’m going to try and get this Deku kid to panic and freeze up by putting someone in mortal danger.” Deku is all, “[doesn’t panic and freeze up at the sight of someone in mortal danger].” Nagant is all “omg no way.” Deku, who is now all of a sudden being so OP that even I have to acknowledge that it’s OP lol, is all “[smashes Nagant’s gun arm to bits]”, which sucks but is also really cool, and which also apparently makes Nagant decide that she actually likes this kid after all. Deku is all “NAGANT I REALLY LIKE YOU AND THINK YOU’RE GREAT SO PLEASE JOIN UP WITH ME AND STOP BEING EVIL.” Nagant is all “aw shucks (✿ •͈ᴗ•͈) well okay then” and everyone is all “( ･◡･) ✰ ( ˆᴗˆ ) ( ᵘ ᵕ ᵘ ⁎)” and then Nagant FUCKING EXPLODES LIKE AN EGG IN THE MICROWAVE AND FALLS TO HER DEATH!!!! except not really because Hawks saves her??? In conclusion, (a) THE FUCK, and (b) AFO TURN ON YOUR LOCATION I JUST WANT TO TALK.

so I have to tell you guys something, which is that barely ten minutes after I made that “please don’t send me spoilers” post the other day, someone replied to the comments in a stunning fit of “tell me that you’re twelve without actually telling me you’re twelve” energy and posted what seemed to be the copy-pasted spoiler summary from reddit or twitter or whatever lol. so here is my good news/bad news rundown of all that

good news: I have very well-conditioned ABORT!! reflexes and have trained myself to immediately look away from the screen (usually in dramatic fashion) as soon as I realize that whatever I’m reading is a spoiler

bad news: unfortunately as I was subsequently deleting said comments, I accidentally read the very last one

good news??: said spoiler was so unbelievably, absurdly over-the-top that I’m almost positive this person was just trolling. like, there’s just no way lmao

bad news: but in the unlikely event that it is true I will absolutely lose my shit I swear to god

(ETA: “NAGANT DIES.” that was the spoiler I read lol. like, literally all I read from the person’s comments was “My Hero Academia Chapter 315 Title: “Beautiful Words.” Chapter starts with...” and then I noped out of there, and then of all the comments to read as I was deleting, it had to be that one lol. I seriously was just like “SURE, JAN.” all “just how gullible do you think I am” sob. but I was wrong. a troll, but an honest troll they remain.

but anyways like I’m pretty sure Nagant isn’t even actually dead lol, so in the end this whole little adventure doesn’t even have a point to it, but for me it was a journey!)

anyway, so there are apparently two versions of the chapter today?? no idea what the difference is, but I’m going to go with the Bean version, because it’s the one at the top and I don’t feel like making decisions today

huh, so Overhaul is actually more coherent than Horikoshi was letting on

look at him having a whole back and forth conversation with her. side note, how is he still this jacked when he’s been sitting in a cell doing absolutely nothing for the past six months

anyway so he says he’ll go with her on one condition. I wonder what that condition could possibly be. do you think it could be the thing he literally hasn’t shut up about ever since he reappeared lol

yep! and damn -- maybe this guy will surprise me after all

still would be nice if you also felt a bit sorry for the little girl you tortured and traumatized, but this is something at least. maybe Deku will yell at him for that other stuff lol

(ETA: also can’t help but wonder if he wants to make amends because he put him in a coma, or because his plan was a failure and ended up destroying the family. just hoping you’ve finally had that “hurting other people is bad” epiphany dude.)

anyways so now Nagant’s arm is transforming again, and this particular transformation happens to be the only truly unsexy thing that Nagant has done thus far so I’m just gonna skip right on ahead lol

aaaaand we’re back to the delirious ranting

buddy. just. read the fucking room, guy

wow she really is aiming at Overhaul, then. those theories were spot-on

damn she’s really out here all “it really fucks with kids’ heads when you kill people right in front of them and make them blame themselves” like yo

I’m picturing her saying all this in a very loud stage-whispery tone while making very significant eye contact with Deku lol

uh oh but wait

um. okay. who’s gonna tell her. Nagant I might have some bad news for you about the kid you’re trying to capture here. specifically about the way he tends to do the opposite of what you’re thinking that he’s about to do

holy shit

so it’s basically just “tap x repeatedly to charge up your attack” lol

and okay, so that’s cool and all, but is anyone else wincing at the thought of what that must be like on his knees. oh to be young

anyway, but so to the surprise of basically no one, Deku did not, in fact, freeze. I am very sorry, Nagant. he’s just like this

LMAO

someone wanna tell me how getting yoloed in the fucking ribs by this fucking slingshot kid moving at literal sniper bullet speed is in any way even remotely better than getting hit by the bullet itself lol

(ETA: this is 10x funnier now that we know the bullet wasn’t even gonna hit him lmao.)

anyway so now Nagant is having an extended “!?!?!?” reaction about how Deku just moved with no hesitation, and I’m starting to get an inkling of fear that the rest of this fight isn’t going to go very well for her and maybe that’s what all the “hoo boy” is about

oh my god Deku are you about to Gomu Gomu no Rocket yourself at her you insane little man

now Three is popping up again and he’s all “I see you’ve learned your lesson and are now only using three quirks at once instead of five” like with all this effusive praise about how great and badass Deku is and sob, okay, yeah. this chapter is basically one of those machines that shoots tennis balls at people, except instead of tennis balls it shoots hot piping discourse

OH MY GOD

YOOOOOOOOOO but also, NOOOOOOOOOOO

lol oh my god it’s literally two opposing reactions at once wtf. do I love this or hate this. like just for once can Horikoshi actually let a badass lady character win their fucking fight without getting their arm ripped off, BUT ALSO fucking look at that absurdly cool “SMASH” onomatopoeia though. it looks like it’s about to float right off the page holy shit that’s some seriously good art

anyway so is this really the end?? do I need to break out my ಠ_ಠ faces

lmao okay yeah I can definitely see how this would piss a lot of people off

he basically one-shotted her and she’s all “damn this kid is so amazing that I’m about to do a complete 180 turn on all of my previous angst” lmao. Horikoshi is really shounening it up today

on the plus side though, maybe this means there’s still a chance for her to join up with him after all? unless that spoiler was true lmao, then all hell is gonna break loose

YESSSSSSS

OH MY GOD AND HE SAYS THE BULLET WOULDN’T HAVE DONE MORE THAN GRAZE OVERHAUL ANYWAY, wow, I’m actually more relieved by that than I would have expected. I mean I would have forgiven her either way, but it means that there was still more hero in her than she was letting on

YES!!! FUCKING YES, THANK YOU

lol but I mean, it’s also like, “oh so today they get to have brain cells”, thank you so much lol. sometimes it’s really hard to tell which times we’re supposed to question these character decisions that seem dumb, and which times we’re just supposed to full on embrace them and switch off our critical thinking

but okay, so in this case it really was Nagant going easy on him on purpose, and not just her fucking up for no good reason even though she used to do this for a living and was the best in the game. and I know in this case it’s probably just Horikoshi giving us some consolation headpats to soften the blow of her losing so abruptly, but you know what, shit. I’ll take it

also you guys the light is coming back into Deku’s eyes again for just a moment here and I’m having feels about it?? the way it still comes back when he’s reaching out to save someone, and following his own hero path instead of the much darker and lonelier Christopher Nolan path that’s been laid out for him instead that he never wanted?? it’s both reassuring and also very sad

YESSSSSSSSSSS

DO IT LADY OMG PLEASE?? PLEASE COME BE HIS NEW IRRESPONSIBLE ADULT SUPERVISION YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO

AHHHHHHH SHE’S GONNA DO IT AHHHH

p.s. I am now absolutely scared shitless that that spoiler was actually true sob. swear to god, I will throw this manga into a fucking volcano. but we’re almost at the end of the chapter and this seems just WAY TOO GOOD to be true fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck f

UCK

NOPE NAH SEND IT BACK, NOPE, NUH UH, DIDN’T ORDER THIS. “GULLIBLE” OKAY FUCK YOU?? “COUNTERMEASURES” NOPE, DON’T NEED ‘EM, WE’RE ALL FINE HERE. WE’RE ACTUALLY GOOD SO YOU CAN JUST GO, OKAY. PLEASE

fuck, lol, I don’t wanna do it. I don’t wanna scroll down what have I ever done to deserve this oh my god

WHAT THE HONEY-ROASTED FUCK

WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT FUCKING VOLCANO IN ICELAND THAT I KEEP SEEING ALL THESE PICTURES OF. WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT SHIT. LET’S GO

ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW

can someone please give AFO a really good, sharpish kick in the balls. just really let him have it. I’m so tired, what the fuck

-- ARE YOU KIDDING ME LOL WHAT

bro. I was literally going through my Excel folders to find the spreadsheet about female characters in BnHA that I made back when Midnight died. was gearing myself up for a wholeass rant. and honestly I might just let all of that continue simmering on low to keep it warm just in case lol, because to tell you the truth I have absolutely no idea what’s happening right now

my girl straight up does not have a face. she used to have a face. people usually need those, idk. like, even if she’s alive, her gorgeous eyebrows are definitely not making it out of this and I’m gonna throw a funeral just for them

how the fuck did AFO just blow her up?? how did he know what was going on?? and if he had a quirk that could explode people at will, why is this the first we’re hearing of it?? you’d think that might have come in handy at Kamino or Jakku, like what

(ETA: present!me, who’s had more than three hours of sleep and can now actually remember facts about the series, would like to remind past!me that AFO gave Nagant a quirk, and so this is probably just more Vestige shenanigans now on his part. that’s also probably why Air Walk suddenly stopped working out of nowhere. still doesn’t explain why he doesn’t go around blowing people up more often though but maybe he thinks it’s gauche.)

Hawks just straight up out of nowhere. just Mirioed his way straight into the chapter just in time to be too late sob. here I was looking forward to seeing your face when Deku showed up with his new best friend. can’t believe Horikoshi deprived us of that moment

on the plus side, WELCOME BACK, HAWKS’S FEATHERS. I have no doubt that in this chapter of Deku being an almighty threequirk-mastering god, and Nagant losing anticlimactically only to be immediately blown up because girl characters in BnHA can only be cool for one fight and one fight only, there are still some people who are focusing solely on the “how dare Hawks get his wings back when he is a MURDERER this is an outrage what about CONSEQUENCES” discourse, and to hell with all the other discourses lmao

anyway, so yeah. wow. and now it’s just occurring to me that maybe the real reason why Overhaul is there is so he can get a head start on that amend-making by actually doing a good thing for once in his life, and using his quirk to heal Nagant. assuming he can still do that

and so now Horikoshi has got me out here actually rooting for Overhaul. you know what, on that note I think I’m just gonna go ahead and call it a day sob

#bnha 315 #overhaul #chisaki kai #lady nagant #midoriya izuku #all for one #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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chaos-burst · 4 years

Text

questions and answers

He had meant to be rude. And it had not worked even a little bit. Eodwulf is sure that anyone else would have been offended. Hell, he’s even sure that the other members of this weird group were absolutely offended on behalf of their friend. But Eodwulf can’t say he has ever met a person like this.

There was no malice, no ill intent, no anger.

When you work with Trent you have to be aware of every little shift in the mood. The slightest twitch of an eyebrow can mean the weather is about to turn foul. Eodwulf knows what to look out for. It had been his intent to rev this weirdo up and it had backfired spectacularly.

Damn.

No meat. No booze. And balls of steel, apparently. Eodwulf had never seen anyone talk to Trent like that. And while Bren‘s—Caleb‘s—words of wanting to kill Trent outright had been more than Eodwulf would ever admit to his mentor, it somehow felt less crazily reckless than to call Trent Ikithon, Archmage of Civil Influence for the Cerberus Assembly and one of the most powerful mages in the Empire, a fucking fool.

To his face. With a smile. In a complete sincere manner.

Eodwulf doesn’t want to replay the words in his head over and over again but his dumb brain has latched onto them and he can’t stop. Only this time it’s not one of Trent’s lessons that forces him to obsessively repeat something until you have internalized it to the point where you can cite it in your sleep.

No.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people.“

Eodwulf has it on repeat in his head the whole way back to the tower and it is still going when he lies down hours later to sleep.

“What are you“ had not been meant as a serious question when Eodwulf had asked it. But by the time he finally falls asleep he feels like it has become a very vital question indeed, because who or what would dare to speak to Master Trent Ikithon in a way like this with an honest smile on their face.

Because for some reason his thoughts have decided to betray him, Eodwulf’s brain makes his tongue and lips form the words again when they see the Mighty Nein the next time. This time, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited to dinner—Trent has very specifically not been invited, you could say he was uninvited with quite a few flowery words in a strange accent.

And as soon as Eodwulf sees Caduceus he remembers the weirdly polite scratching of a chair, the wide smile that indicates that this is a person Eodwulf possibly can not force to lose their composure through careful placed rudeness. And his mouth betrays him.

“So. What are you, really?“

Caduceus blinks mildly surprised before his unfamiliar features shift into a warm smile that has Eodwulf feel quite a lot of inappropriate things he didn’t expect to find in a place like this.

“Gardener. Maker of fine tea. A decent cook. Keeper of graves“, Caduceus lists of and he uses his long fingers to count the things that are important to him about himself.

“Very powerful cleric“, Jester chimes in from the right. She has Astrid next to her in a chair and Eodwulf is pretty sure that Jester has started to put flowers in Astrid’s hair. But surely he must be mistaken. Who in the Nine Hells are these crazy people?

“Oh, yeah. Well, that too, I suppose“, Caduceus says, his smile still warm like honeyed wine.

“Huh“, Eodwulf says because he can’t for the life of him think of something else to say. But Caduceus is yet again pulling out a chair for him so Eodwulf straightens his shoulders and sits down next to Caduceus. Across the table from him the angry one throws herself into a chair and stares at him.

There’s no fear there either, but she can be easily angered, something Eodwulf is good at. He gives her a canine smile and she holds up her middle finger.

This group is full of people with an enormous lack of self preservation.

And they are so loud.

Eodwulf almost doesn’t hear it when Caduceus turns to him to ask him a question.

“Huh?“, he says again, like a fool.

“And what are you, was what I wanted to know“, Caduceus says, his lazy grin open and honest. There is no malice in his words. He actually wants to know.

Eodwulf thinks “Murderer, wizard, protégé, spy“ but he doesn’t say any of these things. “Maker of graves“ comes to mind, but it seems like too dark of a joke to make.

“Enthusiastic about both meat and booze“, he says in the end and Caduceus laughs.

“Yeah, as are most of my friends.“

The implication these words bring is probably only in Eodwulf’s mind but it makes him swallow and look away to find Astrid’s eyes. But Astrid now has pink flowers in her hair and a look of absolute confusion on her face as Jester rattles of compliment after compliment about various of Astrid’s features.

Eodwulf can’t help but look at Bre—Caleb. And he sees that there is a soft, barely noticeable smile on his old friend’s face as he watches the scene unfold.

What am I, indeed, he thinks.

Trent’s orders have been clear. Get close to the group called the Mighty Nein to find out what they are working on with Lady Vess DeRogna.

Eodwulf allows himself to think that Caduceus might have been right. Maybe Master Ikithon is indeed a fool.

Because being in the presence of these people is like nothing Eodwulf has ever experienced and it makes him think, wonder, question—

“Here we are again“, Caduceus says after, yet again, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited for dinner. Eodwulf wonders if this group just wants to make it very easy to spy on them, or if they have an agenda of their own—but it’s hard to believe that there might be any coherent agenda behind anything these people do.

He has watched the buff one called Yasha try and play what looked like a harp made of bone and when the angry one, Beau, told her that she looked hot playing the harp Yasha had torn two of the strings which had led to a whole scene of apologies and various tries to fix the harp.

Jester has drawn dicks on pretty much every surface this magical mansion has and she delights in the fact that Caleb brings the dicks to life in various colors. At some point he made glowing sparkles shoot out of one of the dicks Jester had drawn and Jester had laughed as if this was the best joke she had ever witnessed.

Eodwulf notices Astrid’s eyes on Jester.

Eodwulf also notices that while there seems to be no agenda or efficiency behind anything, they are still being watched.

Beau and Fjord look at them. And Eodwulf is pretty sure Caduceus watches everything as well, but he does it without crossing his arms and glaring so much.

“Looks like it”, he answers. Caduceus offers him tea and Eodwulf’s first instinct is to decline, but then he remembers that “maker of fine tea” had been very high on the list of descriptors so he takes the cup he is offered while somewhere in the background people start screaming something that sounds like “FLUFFERNUTTER”.

Eodwulf tries the tea. He’s not a fan of tea, but this tea is absolutely delicious and he finds himself impressed.

“I believe this one comes from the Hollburns’ graves. Those remains made the tea grow quite fast, it was impressive.”

Eodwulf blinks at his tea and then at Caduceus. For a second his brain wonders if this statement should register as a threat, but it had been delivered with such honest delight and a sense of pride that Eodwulf discards that feeling.

“What?”, he asks. Caduceus points at the tea.

“Oh, well, my family grows tea on those graves we’re keeping. In case you wanted to ask me again what I am. Or—hm, I think I already mentioned that I am a keeper of graves?”

Caduceus trails off and looks thoughtful and Eodwulf stares at him.

“Keeper of Graves. That make you a follower of the Matron?”, he asks.

Caduceus looks at him and smiles.

“Not quite. My family serves Melora. But we are descended from a champion of the Raven Queen.”

Eodwulf can’t help but wonder if this was some kind of weird joke. But his goddess usually isn’t one for joking.

Eodwulf considers for a second, then he pulls out the raven feather pendant from under his cloak.

Caduceus nods. “So”, he says and smiles widely. “What are you?”

Eodwulf snorts.

“For real?”, he says.

Caduceus’ smile widens.

“For real.”

It feels like this has become a sort of game.

“What are you?”

“Moral compass. Middle sibling. Eccentric. Amateur flute player.”

Eodwulf finds that through this question he himself posed the first time, he’s been forced to think more about himself than he feels comfortable with.

“What are you?”

“Decent chess player. Dog person. Sportsman. Only child.”, are the things he says out loud.

“Self-made orphan. Patriot. Volstrucker. Torturer.”, are the things he thinks to himself.

Eodwulf has the impression that Caduceus is somehow aware of the things he doesn’t say.

“So. This is the crew you’re running with now?”, Eodwulf asks Bre—Caleb one night before the Mighty Nein will leave with Vess DeRogna to who-knows-where. Neither Astrid nor Eodwulf did get very far with their planned infiltration work. Eodwulf is not even sure how hard they even tried.

It’s very easy to get swept away by the chaos and the weirdness and the complete lack of fear that the group displays when it comes to him and Astrid. They are dangerous people in a lot of ways.

The Mighty Nein are also dangerous people in a very different way. A way that Eodwulf doesn’t know anything about.

“This is my family, ja.”

He says it, just like that, without looking at Eodwulf.

Family.

The word tastes bitter in Eodwulf’s mouth as he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms.

“Weird people”, he says. Caleb huffs.

“You can say that, yes. But they grow on you very quickly”, he answers quietly and with a small, fond smile that makes something inside Eodwulf ache. For a long time Eodwulf pitied Bren for breaking, for not making it, for failing, for being locked away and discarded. Now he realizes that maybe, in a very macabre sort of way, Bren becoming Caleb through failure was the better end of the bargain.

It feels blasphemous to think that.

“The pink one is especially weird”, Eodwulf finds himself saying and he takes a big swig of whiskey from his flask before handing it to Caleb.

“Ja, I noticed that you seem to have a... uh... particular kind of interest in him. And, if I may add, he in you.”

Eodwulf takes the flask back after Caleb drinks. He contemplates the different sorts of feelings inside his gut as the words sink in. Then he tucks it all away very carefully, just as he learned through many years of being in Trent’s presence.

“Still don’t know what he is”, Eodwulf says. Caleb snorts and shakes his head.

“His people are called Firbolg”, he provides.

“Not sure that’s what I mean. Not anymore, at least.”

It seems dangerous to admit that. Caleb turns his head and looks at Eodwulf with a shimmer in his eyes that Eodwulf can’t read. Many years ago he was able to read Bren like an open book, but Caleb is another book entirely.

“You deserve to have some nice things, you know. You deserve friends. A chance of—hm. A chance of peace. A chance for redemption, if you want it.”

Eodwulf gets up and tugs away his flask.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people. Pain is inconsequential, it’s love that saves them.”

Eodwulf understands the truth in these words now. Bren was broken, Caleb is being healed. Eodwulf doesn’t think that there’s anything left in him that can be saved. Or should be saved.

“Good luck on your journey tomorrow. Don’t die”, Eodwulf says and he leaves Caleb behind.

What are you, he thinks. A sentimental fool.

Astrid sits next to him on one of the balconies of her house and looks up at the stars above them. The Mighty Nein have been gone for six days and it has been very quiet.

They sit in silence and share a bottle of whiskey, passing it back and forth instead of words. It’s been like this for many many years that they’ve allowed themselves to just be. Today though, Astrid breaks the silence.

“I’m going to be the one who kills him.”

She says it quietly, without remorse, without indicating that this is a scandalous statement. She says it just how other people would say “I’ll go to bed soon.”.

Eodwulf stops breathing for just a moment. Then he inhales the cool night air and turns his head to look at her.

“Could kill you for treason”, he says. She looks at him and cocks her head slightly, the analyzing gaze of a murderous spy meets its equal in silence.

“I’d love to see you try”, she says. Eodwulf grins. It feels reckless.

“Don’t die”, he says, the same thing he’s said to Caleb before. Astrid regards him for a long moment and Eodwulf takes another sip. “Will you help me or try to stop me?”

Eodwulf considers this for a moment. Would he try to stop Astrid should she try to kill Trent? No. Would he help her? He doesn’t know that either.

“Can’t you just wait for Bren to do it for you?”

“I won’t lose to him again.”

Eodwulf snorts.

Always so competitive.

“That’s some fucked up shit, Astrid.”

“Shut up, Arschloch.”

Eodwulf grins before getting up to stretch. He puts his hands on the railing of Astrid’s balcony and wonders what Caleb’s new family is up to.

Making a new family never came to mind before. It sounds like something out of a fairy tale. While he contemplates the question whether he would help Astrid kill Trent Ikithon, a slow, familiar voice pops up in his head.

“Hey. Uh—Jester told me to send you an update. We’re still alive. Hope you’re good. Got a new question for you. What will you become?”

The rustling of Astrid’s clothes as she stands up as well somehow tells him that she received a message in her head as well. She steps beside him and puts her hands on the railing next to his.

“They’re persistent”, she says quietly.

Eodwulf nods and inhales.

He doesn’t know what he will become. He didn’t even know that was a question to be asked. The path is clear. It always was.

Pain doesn’t make people.

“Not going to answer?”, she wants to know.

“Don’t have an answer yet.”

It’s unclear to him whether she means her own question or the message Caduceus just sent him.

He answers the sending spell with a simple “I don’t know.”. It takes a few minutes before another message comes in.

“That’s good. Uncertainty is good. It’s the first step in a better direction. I’m going to kill a dragon now. Wish me luck. Good night.”

“I’ll keep you posted on the answer to that question of yours. I’ll see you tomorrow”, he says and leaves Astrid behind on the balcony. Eodwulf thinks about something he hasn’t thought about in a very long time. A priestess in his Matron’s temple once told him: “Death is the only certainty in life.”.

He thinks that Caduceus would agree.

And Eodwulf hopes that the next time he sees that weird, reckless man, he’ll have an answer for him.

#cadwulf #blumengrove #caduceus clay #critfic #critical role #eodwulf #cr spoilers #fanfiction #caduceus #text #screeching into the void #this got a bit out of hand #but i just wanted to get some stuff out of my system

2K notes · View notes

aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Affection II

Characters: Childe, Ganyu, Kaeya, gn!reader

Word Count: 5,577

Warnings: None

Premise: Sometime we know something is impossible from the start. But still we walk towards it, even if we know it will hurt us. It’s only flirting, only a smile or a hug or some food. Even if nothing comes of it, there is nothing to regret. Even if it hurts.

In which the reader gives affection, expecting nothing in return.

Author’s Note: Evidently I’ve really missed writing these properly. I had such a great time writing, and I hope you guys enjoy these just as much as I did.

Also I’ve decided the version on Ao3 will now always be without bullet points, so if you prefer that format the link will be in the reblog.

Childe

You’d been floored by Childe pretty much since the day you two had met.

What had turned into the two of you meeting had started out a most unfavorable encounter. You’d gone to Lingju Pass, trying to survey some of the carvings of the old structure, and attempting to see the sort of methods used to construct such vast rocky complexes at the time. Unfortunately this goal had quickly turned into a goal of “don’t get caught”, as you’d found the Pass crawling with Fatui members. Though you weren’t nearly helpless, you’d also not come prepared for battle; and had spent most of the “fight” dodging around various blows while trying not to drop the expensive equipment that you’d borrowed from other Guild members.

Just as you’d come to the conclusion that the options were either drop everything and run or get thoroughly injured by a bunch of arrogant Snezhnayan soldiers there was a change in the air. The Fatui soldiers’ expression turned from one of glee to one of confusion, and then one of panic, as one by one a streak of blue began to throw them this way and that. As you regained focus of the terrain your realized that it wasn’t a streak at all but a person, a person who was wildly adept at sword play. Eventually the number of unconscious people had risen to five, and there was no one left but him and you.

“Need any help?”

The words might’ve been kind, had it not been for the smirk on the man’s face. Though you felt that the right answers would’ve probably been to scowl, you found you couldn’t, too wrapped up in the memory of this mysterious person darting this way and that, handling his water-made daggers with the grace of a ballet dancer.

“I’m Childe.” These words finally brought you back to the present.

“You’re a member of the Fatui.”

“I am.”

“Then why did you knock those guys out just now?”

“Boredom.”

You stared at Childe incredulously. Of course you’d heard his name, the man who, it was whispered, almost pulled Liyue into the sea. You’d formed a sort of mental picture of him completely divorced from the redhead now standing in front of you, bouncing slightly on his feet as he smiled cockily. He looked more like a rogue adventurer than one of the heads of a crime syndicate. Maybe that was why you found yourself infatuated, rather than afraid.

This infatuation only grew, fed by the encounters that you had with Childe. It seemed now you couldn’t avoid him, not that you wanted to. What had begun as a chance encounter multiplied into two, into four; soon enough you two had struck up a sort of friendship, one that baffled everyone else around you.

Of course you hadn’t lost all your sense, knowing quite well that the puppy love you were feeling could never be anything more. The way Childe talked about his work, about his duty to the Tsaritsa, made it very clear that he wouldn’t let a partner in his life or in his loyalties. And even if he changed his mind, why would he choose you? You were an adventurer sure, but you hadn’t even been able to properly defend yourself the first time the two of you met, and your oversight of that would’ve surely turned Childe away. Besides, Childe could probably make a partner out of anyone he wanted, if they were foolish enough. Why should that person be you?

Perhaps it was that knowledge that allowed you to be so free in your affection, spurred on by Childe’s own open nature. Hand holding, hugging, leaning one’s head on the other’s shoulder, it was the language of friendship that you two had adopted, and something that you greatly appreciated. There was something nice about a friendship in which one could be so open about caring about someone, without expecting things to go farther. Because you didn’t, you really didn’t. And though that might’ve been a bit painful, it was a small price to pay for Childe’s company.

“I’m going off to Mondstadt for a bit.”

“What?”

You drew away from Childe a bit to look into his face. The two of you were walking along the path towards Yaoguang Shoal, as Childe had taken a particular liking to the Starconches that lined its shores. Now he smiled awkwardly, squeezing your hand and shrugging his shoulders.

“I know, I know. There’s apparently this branch of the Fatui holed up there right now, and I’ve been asked to consult about something, though archons know what it is.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure, I think about two weeks? I’m not sure what exactly is going on, but the troops really must be in disarray if they need me skulking around for the next two weeks.” He let out a awkward laugh.

“I’ll miss you.” You replied, bumping your head into his shoulder and frowning. “It’s very boring without you.”

“I’m sure you’ll be perfectly capable without me.” Childe smiled, one eyebrow raised slightly. “After all, what would you do if I left someday, permanently. You’d have to find a way without me.”

“Let’s not talk about that.” You replied hurriedly, switching the conversation towards something more pleasant. Unfortunately however the words had already been said, and the damage had already been done.

It had been two weeks since Childe had left for Mondstadt, and though normally you might’ve been waiting at the city gates for his return, you found yourself on the familiar road towards Lingju. Childe’s words had been ringing in your ears for the past two weeks, and you’d found the more time passed the more you kept thinking about them.

What would you do if I left someday, permanently. Is that what Childe truly wanted? To leave? The idea made your stomach hurt, as you began once more to run all your interactions through your head, as if trying to find a flaw in the strips of memory you had of Childe. Was that what Childe truly wanted, or was it simply that he was sick of you? When he’d said “you’d have to find a way without me” did that mean he wanted to find a way without you? Perhaps you’d been too forward, too demanding. Perhaps he’d managed to realize your feelings and felt repelled by them. Had it been too much, meeting him almost everyday for some periods of time, eating lunch together and sometimes dinner. What about that time you’d invited him over to your house to play a game? Had that been too much?

You sighed, dragging yourself over the final ridge. Sitting down to take a rest you closed you eyes. You hated that your mind wandered this way, that no matter what you couldn’t help but ask yourself again and again, what had you done. What would Childe think about this sad person laying on the ground, the sad part was you couldn’t answer that question.

The sound of footsteps brought you back to the present, and you let out a suppressed groan at the figures in your line of sight.

“Don’t you guys ever get posted anywhere else?” You rolled your eyes, reaching behind your back to summon your polearm.

“You’re trespassing.” The voice that came out of the Electro Vanguard was so deep and distorted as to be hilarious.

“Lastly I checked you were neither a citizen of Liyue, nor Rex Lapis, so if anyone’s “trespassing” on public territory it’s you.” You sighed. “Oh well. Unfortunately you caught me on a day where I’m somewhat prepared.” With that you lunged towards the Hydro Legionnaire and the fight began.

Fighting when one is already frustrated is both a blessing and a curse. The fight itself was almost invigorating, the first Fatui hit the ground and with it you felt part of your worries fade away, if only for the small window of time which this fight offered. Was this why Childe fought so much? The though crossed your mind as you whirled behind the Pyro Bracer and pressed as much Electro as you dared into the back of his head, tripping him with the staff of your polearm on his way down.

Soon enough there was only you and the Electro Vanguard left. Unfortunately you were beginning to feel the other side affect of anger, that being misfocus. Being more versed in using your polearm as a sort of lightning rod your found the Vanguard much harder to deal with, more than once barely diving out of the way of the hammer he was swinging around, surprisingly light on his feet considering what the weight must be. Your anger was quickly draining, turning into something more akin to panic, and as you found yourself stumbling more and more you realized that today was really, really not your day.

The Vanguard was becoming aware of how fast you were tiring, a gravelly sort of laugh emerging from behind his mask. As you found your with you back to the slope you wondered if it was just worth it to make an escape. The Fatui swung his hammer once more, barreling towards you. Having nothing left to do you put your polearm out in front of you, hoping that your arms were strong enough not to recoil against the inevitable blow. Closing your eyes you thought of nothing, drowning in a sea of panic. If there was any coherent part of your brain it wished that you weren’t here, that you just stayed home, or swallowed you pride and gone to the gate. But it was too late now, and you were about to get hit.

However the blow never landed, instead a loud sound pierced the air. Whipping your arms open you saw the Electro Vanguard stumble, his hammer having been dropped on the ground. He was grasping towards his ankle, in which was stuck an arrow, glowing a faint aquamarine. Swearing the Fatui member glanced around, before stumbling away, dragging his weapon and his left leg behind him like dead weight.

“Some things never change, huh?”

“Childe!” You whirled towards your once again savior, face burning from embarrassment. “I took out the rest of them this time.”

“I can see that,” said Childe, surveying the area, a telltale smirk on his face, “very impressive. Although, if I may suggest, next time try to take out the Electro Vanguard first, especially since you don’t wield a weapon made for pure damage.”

“Is this turning into a teaching moment?”

“Absolutely not.” Childe laughed.

You found the sound catching, and soon a smile spread across your face as you let your polearm disappear once more. You ran up to Childe, and were about to throw you arms around his neck in a characteristic hug, when the thoughts of before came ramming back into your brain. Taking a step back you planted your arms firmly in front of you, hoping that maybe Childe hadn’t noticed what you’d been about to do.

However Childe approached you instead.

“You weren’t at the gate today.” He said coyly, lips drifting somewhere between a smirk and a frown.

“I’m sorry.” You lowered your head. “I just thought, well maybe that would be better. Since you said you might be leaving permanently and all, and since you were right when you said I’d have to figure things out without you, I don’t know, I thought maybe it’d be for the best.”

Looking up the expression on Childe’s face could only be described as one of complete disbelief. For a moment he stayed frozen in place.

“What in Teyvat do you mean I’m leaving permanently?”

“You said that! Remember… when we were going to pick sea shells you said that you were leaving.” You stepped back, cheeks flushed. “Or maybe you were just sort of sick of me or something.”

“Why would you ever think that?” Childe walked up to you, enveloping one of the hands at your side in his own and bringing it up towards him.

“I… I don’t know,” you replied, feeling very confused and very foolish, “I thought maybe that I was being too affectionate, or too clingy. I mean I know you don’t like me or anything like that. And I thought maybe that I was crossing the boundaries of our friendship.”

“I don’t like you? I’ve liked you since almost the first day we’ve met!”

“Not like that! I mean, like like, you know? As in… well, as in I… I love you.” You let your voice peter out.

“I love you too!” Childe let out. Shaking his head he smiled widely. “That’s what I’m trying to say. I’ve liked you since almost the first time we’ve met. I wasn’t trying to shoo you away.”

“What?” Your brain was short circuiting. Something had gone terribly wrong. You’d definitely been knocked out at some point, and was now hallucinating. There was no way Childe liked you, loved you. He could love anyone, why would he love you.

Childe stepped closer, moving so that your foreheads were almost pressed together.

“May I?” He whispered, voice almost shy. You nodded, a just as small “yes” escaping your lips before Childe cut off your ability to say anything more. It was a short kiss, sweet and chaste, and yet you felt everything around you suddenly come into sharp, almost lucid clarity. You weren’t dreaming. This was happening. This was Childe and he liked you. Childe like you. He liked you, he really liked you.

“Why?” You let out, when the two of you separated. Thankfully Childe remained close to you, being without his presence now would’ve been quite lonely.

“Why what?”

“Why me? I’m not, I don’t know, I can’t even knock out an Electro Vanguard without help.”

Childe let out a laugh, lovely as music.

“I don’t know,” he replied, eyes sparkling, “because you’re you. And I like you.”

And all of a sudden you found that that was enough.

Ganyu

The days that you accompanied Ganyu on her various errands were the ones in which you were most aware that you were on a level utterly below her.

Of course humans could never really measure up to adepti, after all they made the world and humans simply lived in it. Still in terms of humans, well you weren’t exactly pushing exceptional. If Ganyu represented all that was exceptional about the adepti, well then you represented the average human who didn’t like their job and overall went about their day as unnoticeable as an ant on the road.

Of course Ganyu never acted in a way that would betray the imbalance between the two of you. Indeed Ganyu was nothing if not kind, sweet, and utterly without a semblance of hierarchy. It was one of the things that you adored about her, the straightforward honesty she carried with her, and the way that she appeared not to judge living beings on a scale, even if that was the right of those who were higher and didn’t have to worry about said scale.

“Can you carry this for me?” Ganyu’s voice was soft and somewhat hesitant. You smiled widely, knowing that Ganyu simply had difficulty asking other people for help.

“Of course I can!” Scooping up the package that was stretched out towards you, you saw Ganyu let out a short sigh of relief.

“Thank you.”

“Of course! I’m always happy to help you. Where are we taking this?”

“Over to the funeral parlor. It seems that there are some tiles in here that are being used for a specific ritual. Hu Tao said that the family wanted it, I hope she doesn’t actually mean she pushed them towards it.” Ganyu let out a soft sigh. “She once suggested advertising for cremation. Somehow I feel that won’t exactly be welcomed by the people.”

“No one likes to be reminded of their own mortality. Ah, but Hu Tao is doing her best, and if these tiles end up being insulators, I suppose we can’t do much about it. I’ll make sure not to drop them anyways. Getting on Hu Tao’s bad side feels like asking for a prank.”

“You’re probably right.” Ganyu chuckled.

You blushed slightly, loving the way her laugh sounded, soft and open. You knew Ganyu struggled sometimes; she admitted to you herself that it was very difficult to live an existence defined by liminality. Was she an adeptus? Was she a human? She was neither, and yet both would claim her and call her other. In understanding this Ganyu had retreated into herself. Perhaps that’s why her laugh meant so much.

As you strolled down the docks an angry voice cut through the air.

“Qixing!”

Both of you turning around you saw Bolai, heaving slightly, teetering his way towards you. His face was stormy, and for a moment you wondered if someone had stolen something. His words when he caught up however revealed a very different motivation.

“I demand justice!”

“What for?” Ganyu asked, voice deadly serious once more.

“What for? For what Huixin said in regards to me! For the Liyue Qixing complying with disgusting rumors as to the ways in which I conduct my business and my finances. As to the way that you promised to help me then turned on me!”

“I see…” Ganyu sighed as you wracked your brain, trying to remember what she’d told you about the time that she and the traveler ran around trying to detangle various examples of tax fraud. “Have you considered putting up a formal complaint?” Ganyu meanwhile was still trying to keep professional, something that you admired her for.

“How am I supposed to trust the Qixing after what happened? No! I demand compensation now!”

“Sir, I’m sure you’re quite upset, but there’s no need to act in such a way. If you wish to clear your name, then we can meet in private and review the testimony and documents we received. If not, then I’m afraid there is nothing I can do for you. I’m very sorry.”

Ganyu turned back towards the direction in which you two had been previously walking. Evidently too agitated to think properly Bolai let out a strangled cry.

“We’re not finished yet!” Reaching out, he seemed to be attempting to turn Ganyu around by the shoulder. Having been standing there unthinking you now moved to block the action, knowing that Bolai didn’t really mean anything by it, but not trusting the man who looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Bolai’s hand instead smacked into the box in your hands, which slipped from your grip and fell to the floor in a great crash.

Time seemed to slow down somewhat after this, as Bolai stepped backwards and Ganyu turned around, face one of evident horror at the scene. You felt your face begin to burn as you looked at the unassuming box, which now looked a little bit the worse for wear.

“What…” Ganyu trailed off. Bolai waved his hands about in a panicked sort of way.

“That wasn’t me! That wasn’t my fault! It was this person they… I don’t know what they were thinking, getting in the way like that. How idiotic! This is nothing but a mess, a disgrace!”

Normally you wouldn’t pay Bolai’s words any mind, but now they seemed to pierce right through, as you realized all the trouble you’d just caused Ganyu. Glancing over towards her you found you could neither look her in the eyes nor stay where you were.

“I-I’m sorry!” You stammered. Moving to pick up the box you found your hand hesitating. Fearing that you’d just make things worse you pulled yourself and dashed in the opposite direction, speeding up the docks and towards the outskirts of the city.

Normally the view from Mount Tianheng was one that stole your breath away. Today however the mountain seemed completely uninteresting, especially when compared to the thoughts racing in your head.

How had you gotten here, how had you messed up so much? Ganyu didn’t need your posturing, your attempt to help. She was an adeptus for Morax’s sake! And who were you? Someone who couldn’t even carry a box from Point A to Point B. And now you’d just caused more trouble for Ganyu, when she already had so much to do.

“I’m such a failure.” You groaned into your palms.

“You aren’t!” You lifted your head at the soft exclamation, already knowing who the voice belonged to. Ganyu sidled up to the ledge of the mountain silently, fidgeting with her hands. “May I sit next to you?”

“Of course.” You replied, grateful that Ganyu was even talking to you. Smiling softly the Qixing Emissary let out a soft sigh.

“I love the view of the city from here.” She spoke softly, eyes on the horizon.

“I do too.”

“There’s something so lovely about watching everyone go about their day, isn’t there? To see the people work in harmony to bring prosperity and peace to the city of Liyue. To see how everyone continues on the legacy of Rex Lapis.”

“That’s a lot to see.” You joked, still feeling a little uncomfortable, as if Ganyu might in a minute get up and leave.

“But can’t you see it?” Ganyu’s voice was earnest and her eyes shined. “It’s wonderful how people do it, how they continue to make this city thrive, to keep the contracts of Morax alive and within living memory.”

“Perhaps it’s just harder for humans to judge it themselves?”

“Perhaps.” Ganyu’s expression shifted into something, almost shy, not quite melancholic. “Just like how you’re finding it difficult to forgive yourself.”

“I’m so sorry Ganyu. I don’t know what I was thinking! I just… I just, wasn’t thinking.”

“You were trying to be kind.” Ganyu replied, something almost akin to blush coating her cheeks. “And I have to thank you for that.”

“But I just caused more trouble…”

“You were trying to be kind,” Ganyu repeated, “like I said, you’re finding it difficult to forgive yourself. But you have to. You didn’t truly do anything that needs forgiveness.”

“But I was doing it for completely selfish reasons!” You blurted out, embarrassment and doubt turning into the words you never wanted to utter. “It’s because I like you, and not just because I was trying to be nice. But because, because maybe I wanted to do something for you, and then maybe I’d be good enough maybe.” Realizing how odd that just sounded you turned your head away. For a moment your words hung in the air, and the longer the silence continued the longer you thought about how utterly selfish you were.

“Thank you.” There was a smile in Ganyu’s voice, and as you turned your head once more you could see it plastered across her face.

“For what?”

“For telling me you like me.”

“But… but isn’t it just burdening you? After all I’m not good enough for you.”

“You are!” Ganyu’s voice was firm. “You’re absolutely good enough for me. And what you did, you call it selfishness, but I don’t understand that. Being kind to people you like isn’t selfish, even if you like them. Because this time you were genuinely helping me. Besides, if that’s selfish then I’ve also been terribly selfish.”

“How?”

“By asking you to accompany me everywhere. Because maybe, maybe I like you too.”

For a moment you wondered if you hadn’t accidentally slipped off the cliff, so weightless did you feel. A bit lightheaded you leaned forward.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Ganyu smiled nervously. Reaching out she took your hand in hers.

The two of you watched the sun set over the city of contracts mostly in silence. Every once in a while there would be a spurt of conversation, but mostly there was nothing but the sounds of the birds and the cicadas, and the pounding of two hearts, hearts both a bit ragged from the events of the day.

For what a day it had been. And how wonderfully it had ended.

Kaeya

If you could use anything as justification for your crush on Kaeya, he did flirt with you. Unfortunately he also flirted with everyone else in Mondstadt.

“How’s my favorite knight of Favonius?” Kaeya’s cocky voice was clear as a bell, and for a moment your heart flipped as the handsome knight came into view, smile as lovely as it had been the day before.

“Blessed by the presence of our beloved cavalry captain.” You replied in a singsong voice.

The first time Kaeya had used that line on you it felt like your soul had left your body and your heart had run a marathon. Unfortunately you’d heard him use practically the same line on Rosaria the next day, his favorite mysterious nun, robbing you of your fantasy in which Kaeya had any interest for you.

Your banter however was not without genuine feeling. You were utterly infatuated with Kaeya, having fallen for the handsome knight about two weeks into your own training. Originally having been an adventurer you’d joined the knights relatively recently after a series of Abyss attacks on the City of Freedom. As such Kaeya had by then already occupied an exalted position among the ranks, and the hours of being trained, teased, and flirted at by the mysterious cavalry captain had been enough to throw you head over heels.

Not that you’d ever expect things to develop more than they already had. Having a crush on the flirtiest man in Mondstadt did mean that you were praised every once in a while, but it also meant that the praise meant little more than empty words, and that there was always someone else who had heard them. Not that you begrudged those people, not knowing them or not caring. It was Kaeya’s right to be as he was, flirty and irreverent; and you’d never ask him to change that part of himself, or any other.

To do so would be to change the person you’d grown to love.

You trotted up the steps of the Favonius headquarters, opening the door with a slight “oof” before stepping into the cool building. Today was going to be a quiet sort of day for the knights, and you’d been assigned to pick up a few books from Jean’s office to be recorded by Lisa before being sent off to the Church. Going to open the door you paused at the voices inside.

“– saying it’s nothing.”

“And I’m saying that it’s becoming a distraction. I don’t want to control your actions Kaeya, but this pining has been slowing down your work, and we need you as one of our most crucial members to be on top of things.”

“I’m not pining.”

“What do you mean you aren’t pining,” Jean let out a snort, “as if it’s not obvious to everyone around you. Look, I’m not saying you have to break things off –”

“Good, because they haven’t even begun.”

“Then maybe that’s part of your problem. Maybe if you told them you liked them then you’d be able to get back on track.”

“I’m doing my best.”

“You aren’t doing anything. And that’s the problem.”

You didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, having made your way over to the library as to make sure that you were get caught, and to cool your head in regards to what you’d just heard.

So Kaeya liked someone. You shouldn’t’ve really been surprised. Kaeya was a wonderful person; intelligent, good with a weapon, polite, handsome. What person wouldn’t fall in love with him? And when everyone’s in love with you, well, it was unsurprising that eventually Kaeya would find someone who he loved back just as much. Then, why did it hurt?

You fought the urge to wrack your brain for the people Kaeya spoke most about, finding the act beneath you. Still, your mind wandered. Perhaps it was Rosaria after all, or maybe it was only because you remembered her. Perhaps it was the sword smith who came twice monthly to check up on the weaponry. Or perhaps it was the tailor, who could sew anything with the utmost care. Or perhaps it was a musician, or an archivist, or another knight. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Your head swam and you found your eyes stinging. Now wasn’t the time to cry, not when you needed to honor your appointment with Jean, not when you were somewhere where any one of your colleagues might discover you. Not where Kaeya might walk in any minute and realize what you’d done. This thought finally brought you out of the spiral of your mind. Making sure that any tears that might’ve escaped were wiped away you took a deep breath, steadying yourself before you walked out of the library and into Jean’s office.

Evidently you must’ve looked much worse than you thought, for Jean took one look at you and ordered you home, grumbling about how much trouble there had been recently. You thanked her half-heartedly before making your way out of the Headquarters, heart heavy as lead. At least work would’ve been a welcome distraction.

Arriving home you saw what Jean meant. Though you weren’t particularly teary, your face had taken on an ashen pallor that made it look like you’d either just gotten a shock, fainted, or had suddenly contracted consumption. Letting out a sigh you collapsed on the couch of your apartment. You knew you should probably do something, should eat or work on some extra work or something. But right now you didn’t want to do any of that. You just wanted to forget.

The knock that sounded at your door was extremely unwelcome, and you bit back bitter words as you made your way over to the door. Any protest however was silenced at the sight of Kaeya, hair slightly tussled, expression opaque, on your doorstep.

“Kaeya.” You meant to sound more peppy, but the action felt too tiring. “What’re you doing here?”

“Making sure that you’re alright. Jean told me that you looked unwell, and we can’t have our best knight getting sick, now can we?”

“I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

You went to turn around, when Kaeya reached over and place his hand on your forehead. Freezing you let out a sound somewhere between a strangled cry and a shriek. Kaeya didn’t react to this however, or the red quickly spreading across the bridge of your nose. Instead he let out a sigh, before smiling, something which also caused your heart to seize up.

“Not running a fever. I’m glad. Do you know what’s wrong by any chance?”

“Yes. No! I mean, I think, I, I just need rest.”

“You can tell me if something’s wrong. I might not be able to help, but I can try. Consider it the duty of the Cavalry Captain. Have to keep up appearances, even among the ranks.”

“Really Kaeya, I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.” Kaeya’s eye seemed to pierce through your soul. “You seem… upset, exhausted. Please, let me help.”

“I can’t…” Your voice cracked and you turned your head away, mortified by your inability to control yourself.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Kaeya’s voice was filled with sudden worry. “Is someone doing something to you?”

“No! No one is. I just can’t because, because it’d be selfish.”

“What do you mean?” Kaeya’s tone had become utterly perplexed, and for a moment you felt the crazy urge to laugh. As if it wasn’t painfully obvious why you couldn’t. This was so tiring. You were so tired.

“Because it’s not fair of me to take away your happiness just because of my own feelings.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I heard you talking to Jean,” you explain, face burning, “she said that you liked someone. Or maybe you did, I don’t remember. Anyways you like someone and it’s not fair of that to hurt me, I have no right to your feelings. But, but it hurts, it really, really hurts.”

The silence when you finished was miserable. You weren’t even looking up at Kaeya, not wanting to see the destruction of a friendship you valued so much.

“Have you considered that the person I’m so infatuated with might be you?”

When you looked up you caught a wave of emotions, similar in strength to the ones currently going through you, plastered over Kaeya’s face. Happiness, sadness, regret, relief; all these things danced in his eyes. In that moment you loved him even more for it, for knowing that he understood, and that he too couldn’t hide the affects of having someone you loved so close and yet so far.

Saying nothing you walked over and slowly stretched your hand out. Kaeya took the hand in his, and you reveled in the small intimacy, in his calloused fingers enveloping yours.

“I’m not good enough.” You pointed out, voice soft.

“You aren’t the one who decides who I love.” Kaeya replied, voice firm. “To me there is no one else worthy in the world. Only you. And I hope that I can be the same for you, that I can be worthy.”

“Yes. Oh yes.”

For Kaeya was more than simply worthy. He was the one you loved the most, as well as the one who’d now made you the happiest person you could ever dream of.

#requested #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #childe #ganyu #kaeya #childe x reader #ganyu x reader #kaeya x reader #scenarios #my writing

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Note

After that Jake-Mac-Rosa fic, you dropped this queen: 👑 Next time, a Jake-Mac-Holt piece?

Oh dang, THAT's where I left it. Thank you for that. 🤪

Grandpa Holt is always a pleasure to write, but let's try for some Dad Holt too...

"Is everything alright, Peralta?"

Jake has been sitting off to the side of the group for a while now, so Holt finds it necessary to inquire. He's not used to the eager detective being so closed off and quiet unless something is wrong, and nothing he can think of right now strikes him as 'wrong': they have been celebrating the end of a rather arduous case for Diaz and Boyle, and Peralta had been as helpful as he could be as a tertiary, which was not his preferred position at all. The first round at Shaw's had been paid by himself as Captain, obviously, and the next by Diaz, so Boyle has promised to shoulder the third, were it to happen. Ergo Peralta could not be thinking about his usual money problems, which have lessened anyway ever since Santiago took over his budgeting.

That means something else entirely must be 'wrong' in order for Jake to keep out of the conversation, only reply when he is mentioned by name, and drift off to a corner of the bar while the other congregate around the various game options of the room.

"I'm good, Captain, thanks." Jake answers with a smile and an obvious lie, so Holt doesn't even bother replying, just raises one of his eyebrows a quarter of an inch, which he knows usually gets him results with Peralta. The ensuing sigh shows that it is still working.

"It's just..." Jake shrugs and rubs the back of his neck, another tell of his discomfort. "This is my first night out alone since the baby."

"Indeed." Holt replies. "I remember your phone call to Amy to inform her you would be back late today."

"Yeah." His hand is still on his neck, the other one clutched around his half empty beer bottle. "She told me to have fun. But..uh... I still kinda feel like I shouldn't be here."

"Do you think having a child robs you of autonomity? I know I am not speaking from experience, here, but it does seem to me like you are allowed to enjoy time away from your family, especially if your spouse insists you do."

"Getting drunk at a bar while my kid might be crying at home doesn't feel like the responsible thing to do, is all."

"Ah, I see." Holt nods, and he does see - he actually sees a lot more than what Jake might be trying to imply in his statement. He remembers how he used to self-medicate with alcohol in the past, after ending his relationship with that defense attorney, or even before, while feeling heartbroken over Santiago. He also remembers anecdotes about his father's drinking, not from Peralta himself, obviously, but from the rest of the squad, whenever Jake would cancel on a promised night out after Roger Peralta's visits. As much as Holt hates idioms, one of his most despised is probably 'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree', and Jake seems to fear it as well.

"Here is my solution, then, if you are willing to listen." Jake looks up at Holt as he's standing in front of him, and his hand drops from his neck. "You make the beer you are currently drinking your last for the night, and spend some quality time with your colleagues instead, enjoying a few parlour games, and then you head home at an agreeable time and still see your child before he falls asleep."

Jake grins and takes a sip of his beer.

"Sounds like a plan, Cap." He nods, and Holt doesn't ignore the fact that Jake has been using this shortened nickname for him a lot lately, and how eerily similar it sounds to 'Dad' in his voice.

(An hour later, he receives a picture on his cellphone from Peralta: The man himself, asleep on his couch, with his infant son equally asleep on his chest. Santiago must have commandeered his phone, and Holt is glad for it.)

-*-

"Grampa!"

The sound of that little voice echoes through the hallway as loudly as the ensuing footsteps, and Holt feels something warm and solid wrap around his legs.

"Hello, McClane." He smiles down at the little boy currently clutching his knees, and he smiles back before raising his arms in an obvious demand to be lifted up. Holt obeys it immediately.

He notices Mac looks surprisingly tired for an otherwise very energetic two year old, and Amy, who's now following him to Holt's side, looks equally exhausted.

"Good afternoon, Captain. I'm so sorry, I should've messaged you that I have to bring Mac in for an hour, the babysitter cancelled and the day care couldn't keep him longer than-"

"It is quite alright, Santiago. McClane knows how to behave himself at the precinct, right?" He gives the little boy in his arms a look, and receives a strong and eager nod in reply, the curls on his head bouncing back and forth. If anyone were ever to question Peralta's parentage, that alone would classify them as an imbecile. "I can watch him for the time being, if you have paperwork you need to get in order before leaving for the day."

"God, Captain Holt, would you- that would be so- I was going to ask Rosa, because I know she's at her desk-"

Amy seems far more frazzled than usual, and Holt realises that her regular schedule must be in quite a disarray, considering she has been a single parent for about a week now. Mac must not have been making it easy for her, either, nor must the baby currently growing in her stomach, which has started to show about a month ago, at which point they finally informed the squad about it (when everyone had already figured it out just like last time).

"RoRo!" Mac yells, happily, almost leaning out of Holt's arms, but he quickly hugs him tighter.

"Your aunt Rosa is working, McClane, and we should not interrupt her. We can spend the time in my office, and you can draw if you would like."

"Roro working." He echoes like a little parrot. "Like Daddy."

"That's right." Holt has learned from the parenting homepages he's visited that you are to encourage a child trying to talk and string together a coherent topic, no matter how long it might take.

"Daddy's working away." Mac continues, and out of the corner of his eye Holt sees Amy's forehead wrinkle in worry.

"Yes, your father is in New Jersey for the week to work on a special case." It's not a dangerous case at all, rather a boring standard task that happened to involve some out-of-state suspects, but Jake had still been trying to hand off that trip to anyone who might be willing to help him out. Seeing his son with bags under his eyes and his wife with stresslines around her mouth and her hand on her belly, Holt understands why.

"He comes back." Mac says next, and it is a statement, but the look in his eyes makes it a question, and Holt is quick to answer. He's glad that he has a definite answer to that, instead of the empty promises and assurances he sometimes has to make as the head of a police department.

"Yes, your father will be back soon. In two days, in fact."

Mac holds up two grubby little fingers, and Holt nods with so much fervor it surprises himself.

"Very good, that is two. Only two days and two nights until your father is back home." The worry in Mac's eyes seems to dimish a little at that as he stares at his own fingers. "If we go to my office, we can check on the calendar exactly how long that is." He barely waits for another nod before taking the diaper bag out of Santiago's hands, who whispers a quiet, but relieved "Thank you" to him. He understands again that it means far more than to thank him for taking care of the child for an hour so.

(If he uses that hour to assure Mac several times that no matter what, his father will always find a way back to him with far more emotion in his voice than he'd usually use, well, no one needs to know. Peralta certainly seems happy about the picture he sends him of Mac with his captain's hat behind his desk.)

-*-

"Congratulations." Holt's hand on his shoulder is heavy, but not uncomfortably so, and it gives a quick squeeze before dropping.

They've done the whole customary introduction to the newborn baby, the apparently necessary picture round, and now Kevin is having an amicable chat with Amy in her hospital bed. They've waited two days for their official visit, to give the new parents a chance to get at least a few of their bearings. (Holt was there merely an hour after the birth, of course, with the rest of the squad, but that was a moment of joyful chaos and many voices.) Now the room is filled with an almost serene quiet, Amy's and Kevin's voices low and comfortable in the background as Holt watches the man he truly considers a son hold up his new granddaughter.

"Do you want to hold her again? I know you already did for the photos but-"

Holt only nods and takes the infant out of his hands with perfect ease. He's more used to a wriggling toddler now, but he still clearly remembers the days when Mac was equally quiet and frail in his arms. The little one in them now is asleep amidst all that is happening, her tiny mouth open just a fraction, and he feels her arm bump against his chest while she seems to be having a dream.

"She is as perfect as her older brother, Jake."

"Yeah." Jake smiles, and there's nothing of that boisterous, loud, cocky detective grin left in it that he used to know. It is soft and kind and full of love, and it might be one of Holt's favourite expressions. "Amy did a superb job again."

"As did you."

"I'm sure I don't gotta explain this to you, Cap, but I didn't really do much." Jake jokes, and Holt can tell he's trying to divert the attention to a simpler topic, but sometimes things must be said.

"You do a lot, Jacob." He continues, then. "Far more than a lot of fathers do. Far more than many would expect of you. And you do it all perfectly right, with heart and determination."

Jake nods, swallowing down a lump in his throat, it seems, and it might be a step too far for his already emotional state, but Holt feels like it needs to accompany his accolades.

"I am very proud of you, son."

Jake is very obviously fighting back tears as he replies.

"Thanks, dad."

The little girl in Holt's arms stirs right at this moment, and Jake seems to want to interject immediately in fear that she'll start crying, but she simply stares up at Holt with impossibly big, brown eyes for the first time. And he realises, just as he did two years ago when Mac's little hand tightened around his finger for the first time, that there is a child in this world that he would literally do anything for. There are four of them now, even if two of them have not fallen under the category of a child for several decades.

"Hello, Maya." He says to the little face that seems to be inspecting him. "I'm Captain Raymond Holt. Your grandfather."

He looks up at Kevin and Amy, who've stopped their conversation while Amy is lifting her phone in their direction, and then at Jake, who's looking at Maya as well with shining eyes. Then he looks back down at Maya, stretching her arms out of her swaddle as if she's reaching for him.

"You are a very lucky little girl."

#b99 #brooklyn 99 #jake peralta #amy santiago #peraltiago #mac peralta #maya peralta #raymond holt #captain dad #my writing #ficlet

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hopelesshunny · 3 years

Text

the love languages part ii: physical touch (f.w.)

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: fred has always felt the need to touch y/n and after a drunken night he realizes he can't sleep without her.

warnings: very, very light profanity, drinking/underage drinking, kissing, bed sharing.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: my second instalment is here - i did in fact say i would wait until monday but i was really excited to write this one!! i am so grateful for all the love i have received on this series so far, i cannot thank you guys enough. i still feel like i have a ways to go in improving my writing - but as always my ask is open if you have comments, questions, concerns, luv or just wanna chat:)

*all photos are from pinterest*

series masterlist // part i // part iii // part iv

For as long as Y/N had known Fred he had always been touchy. Fred’s need to constantly touch her was never unwelcomed, she relished in the way he’d wrap an arm around her shoulders when he’d walk her to class or how he’d lean into her when he laughed uncontrollably. However, she had always assumed that he was like this with everyone he was friends with, that he just needed to touch people in some way in order to feel close to them. This was very true but Y/N never knew that it was her touch that he craved the most, that as soon as he saw her, he longed to feel the soft skin of her cheek, the way her shoulders shook when she laughed or the rise and fall of her chest while he laid on her stomach in the common room, gentle sighs leaving her mouth every so often.

Fred couldn’t count on two hands the amount of times he almost told Y/N his feelings for her, the words sat on his tongue so often that he was starting to believe that they felt more comfortable in his mouth which is why they never launched themselves into the air. He didn’t know why he couldn’t force the confession out, there was always just a cloud of doubt and fear that swarmed his mind whenever the thought presented itself. But alas, here he was sitting across from her watching her flip her hair over her shoulder and let out a light laugh as she found whatever George was saying quite amusing.

“Y/N! You have to come, you literally can’t miss a party like this!” George practically shouted, a shocked look on his face.

“I’m so behind on my studies.” Y/N started, resting her chin on her hands. “I’ll be practically chained to the library all weekend as is, I can’t go to a party.”

“Y-You’re not coming tonight?” Fred questioned, his eyes hopeful as if he had heard the conversation wrong.

“Sorry Freddie.” She pouted. “You can tell me all about it at breakfast tomorrow.” At that Fred reached across the table to run his finger across her knuckles, relishing in the way her skin felt under his calloused fingertip, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to how they would feel against his lips. However, he was pulled out of his daydream by the sound of George making gagging noises to the side of him as Y/N giggled.

“In that case I’ll have to drink a little extra.” He threw a wink her way. “To make sure I don’t bore you back to sleep tomorrow morning.”

“You never bore me, Trouble.” She smiled before saying her goodbyes to the rest of the table and making her way to the library. The nickname brought a gentle smile to his face, it was the first thing she’d ever called him. During her first year Y/N had been studying in the common room when the twins busteled in, laughing and hollering about another successful prank. When she asked what they were so excited about, the two boys were more than happy to explain, Fred wildly acting out the look on Snape’s face before George asked her name and introduced himself in response. Before Fred even had the chance to open his mouth to follow suit she stopped him.

“You sound like trouble, that’s what I’ll call you.”

George laughed at his twins new-found nickname but it made Fred’s heart swell - the fact that she had specifically given him a special name, the smile on her face when she said it and the way she never left their side since that day, produced a swarm of butterflies in his stomach. Now, here he was, years later, with the same girl, same nickname, same smile and the same butterflies.

Fred kept his promise to Y/N, he was drunk, very, very drunk. He stumbled through the Gryffindor common room, his feet feeling like they were trying to carry him off in different directions until he finally found an armchair to ground himself with. Plopping himself down into the chair he looked out into the crowd of people, some laughing others whispering, couples hanging off each other, it made him miss Y/N. If she was here she’d be sitting next to him, his arm slung around her shoulder as she giggled over the way he slurred his words and she’d always made sure he got to bed safely before finding her way to her own room. Fred groaned as George sat in the chair across from him, pushing a glass of water towards him, causing his twin to chuckle at his annoyed state.

“At least you’ll have something funny to tell Y/N in the morning.” He laughed. “Tell her all about how your drunk ass could barely walk straight.” Fred leaned his head back on his neck.

“I should go see her.” He spoke quietly, just loud enough to convince himself of the idea but hopefully not loud enough for George to hear. He knew that his drunken state failed him however, when his brother quirked an eyebrow at him.

“And do what? Spill your guts?” George chuckled. “Either by finally telling her you’re bloody in love with her or literally?” This earned another groan from Fred as he shot daggers at him.

“That’s it.” Fred started, chugging the glass of water that was placed in front of him. “I’m going.”

“Best of luck mate.” George spoke as he watched Fred stumble his way through the crowd.

“Where’s he going?” Ron asked, suddenly appearing by his brother's side.

“On a death mission.” George responded.

Fred let out a sigh of relief when he finally made his way out of the common room and began the trek towards her dorm room. But his mind was running rampant, what if George was right? What if he was just better off going to bed? Maybe she wouldn’t want to see him, she was probably tired from studying all night and the last thing she wanted was him keeping her up. But despite his doubts his feet still carried him towards her, the walk was sobering, which he would need if he planned on getting a coherent sentence out when he finally made his way to her.

“Y/N?” He called softly when he opened her room door, trying his very best to keep quiet to not wake her roommates. He recognized her frame immediately, bundled under bed sheets, her hair messy and lips slightly parted. He stood over her, watching the way her chest rose and fell as soft breathes left her mouth. “Y/N.” He spoke again, shoving his hands in his pockets, fearing her reaction to his sudden visit. Her eyes shot open but when they found his, her face softened, a small smile forming.

“You scared me, Trouble.” She laughed lightly. “Are you okay?” She asked, the concern that laced her voice made him have to restrain from kissing every square inch of her face.

“I’m okay, just a little drunk.” He hiccuped, his response earning a bright smile from her as she scooted to the side and patted the bed, signially for him to sit next to her. He graciously accepted her offer, his hand immediately finding her knee, needing to touch her. She leaned into his touch as he slurred on about how Ron tried to flirt with Hermione but failed miserably and how red Harry turned when George dared him to kiss Ginny. Neither of them could remember falling asleep, they were too caught up in each other's whispered stories and soft giggles.

When Fred woke the next morning, his head pounding, his legs feeling as if they had carried him across the entire country, he looked down to find his best friend fast asleep on his chest. Y/N’s arms were wrapped tightly around his middle with his hand tangled in her hair as she shifted slightly on top of him. He felt like he should panic and apologize for last night’s antics but she looked so peaceful and he was so close to her that he couldn’t bring himself to worry about barging into her room at who knows what time.

“Mornin’ Trouble.” She spoke, her voice groggy and flooded with sleep. “How are you feeling?” She asked genuinely, pulling herself from his embrace to stretch her arms above her head, making him curse himself for ever moving and waking her.

“I’ve been much better.” He groaned, sliding his hands down his face. “Guess I don’t have to fill you in on last night's events at breakfast anymore.”

“No, you did a sufficient job of that last night.” She giggled. “But we can still go to breakfast, you need to eat something.” Y/N pulled him out of her bed, still fully clothed in what he was wearing the night before.

He grumbled his way through breakfast as George and Ron cracked jokes about how drunk and lovesick he was, Fred throwing warning looks their way as Y/N laughed seeming unbothered by the way they were pulling her into they’re jokes, taking it all as a way to poke fun at Fred. But his head was still swimming, the feeling of her weight on top of him and her hands pressed against his chest, all he wanted was to be back in that position again. He couldn’t get it out of his head for the rest of the day and no matter how many times he attempted to distract himself from her that night as he lied in bed his mind kept travelling back to Y/N. He lay awake staring at the ceiling thinking about how empty his arms felt without her in them - she was addicting, he had always known that, since the moment he met her he had not been able to pull himself away from her. But now he was in too deep, he needed to be there with her.

So, here he was, in his pyjamas, on his way to her dorm room once again, all shame and guilt left long behind, just needing to be near her. Fred padded into her room, his hands rooted in his pockets once again, fully expecting to have to wake her just as he did the night before. But she was wide awake, sitting on her bed, a novel clasped in her fingers, a smile forming on her face when he came into her line of vision.

“Did you miss me?” She teased, as he ran a hand through his hair, rocking on his heels.

“Can’t sleep.” He mumbled. “Was wondering if you were still up.” He said, offering her a grin.

“Well then Trouble, you’re in luck.” She smirked, moving to allow space for him to lie next to her. Fred laid his head in her lap as she turned her attention back to the book in her hand while the other snaked its way into his hair. All the trouble sleeping that had been previously plaguing him melted away with her nails lightly scratching his scalp.

Over the course of the next week Fred and Y/N fell into this routine, he would lay away in his bed before eventually giving into the knowledge that he could not sleep without her any longer before he would make his way to her room, crawl into bed beside her and fall into the soundest sleep that has ever graced him. In the beginning, he was apprehensive, worried that she would reject him at some point and tell him that she wanted to sleep alone. But she never did, every night she shot him a warm smile and opened her arms to him. As the week went on his worries morphed themselves into something new however, he was no longer concerned about her rejecting his company but that she would instead reject his feelings for her. That she would eventually realize that he was in love with her and tell him that she never felt that way about him and was just trying to be a good friend.

“I don’t think I can sleep without you anymore.” Fred spoke into the darkness of the room, his voice audibly shaking, the silence that filled the space causing his stomach to turn.

“Mhmm.” Y/N started, tightening her grasp on him. “I can’t complain, you’re a great pillow.” He let out a light laugh, rubbing small circles in her back.

“It’s true.” He spoke, more seriously. “I haven’t been able to sleep at all lately, but as soon as I get into your bed, I’m out.” She sighed. “They must have better beds in the girls dorms.” He added, which earned a giggle from her.

“I don’t know about the quality of the beds, maybe it’s who's in it.” She spoke, her voice quiet as she bit her lip now regretting her sudden burst of confidence. Fred was silent for a moment before he spoke, a deep breath filling his lungs before he had the nerve to confess to her.

“I always thought that the reason I always had to touch you was because I liked to feel close to people. But it’s different with you.” He shifted to look at her. “I need to touch you, need to feel your skin. Fuck Y/N, I just want to hold your hand in front of everybody and kiss you in between classes and fall asleep next to you every night.” He searched her face looking for any sense of emotion but all he could find was her typical soft smile. “It’s just that I-I-” He started.

“I love you too Fred.” She cut him off, placing her palm against his cheek, he turned into her touch despite the shock that was lacing his features.

“You what?” He said, a giggle falling from her mouth as she clasped her hand over her mouth in an attempt to save him some pride.

“The first night you came to my room, after you left the party, you kept saying you loved me in your sleep.” He groaned at her confession. “I was worried it was just drunk babbles but-”

“But I do love you.” He finished. “I’ve loved you for years.”

“I love you too, Trouble.” She giggled, placing a long awaited kiss to his lips.

taglist (join here!!)

@onlyfreds @fandomhideout @lilypad-55449 @youngblood199456 @thanxxskz

#fred #fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley series #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fluff #hp fic #hp

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