#i thought it would be but too much movement and too many yellows
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Be my Owner
Demon pet! Tomioka Giyuu x AFAB! Reader
Demons mated for life, sharing lifespan with their mates.
Tags: mild allusions to depression (reader), demon pet AU (domesticated demons), in heat, smut, nipple play, mating, dom-leaning bottom reader (i think???)
Word count: 7,4k
Masterlist | My Pet Demon collab
You knew you were not well mentally; the deep hole, where your heart should be, made itself known a long time ago. What you didn’t understand was the reason you… required a pet. And it wasn’t even any pet - a dog would have sufficed, maybe - but your best friend gave you a fucking demon.
You didn’t know what you did to deserve your best friend but this was a bit… over the top. Especially now as you stared your new charge in the impossibly deep blue eyes.
Giyuu was a serious-looking demon, long black hair a little tangled and dry, giving it a distinct spiky shape, cute dark blue horns poking out from his head. He also had dark eyebags, which was hardly surprising, given that he’d had to travel in the sun, which weakened demons a great amount. An overall gaunt appearance was what made your heart want to keep it - keep him.
Demons had become domesticated in the last century or so, becoming glorified pets and workers, though there was a movement about giving them rights by law. You supported that movement passively, but you would have to immerse yourself in it more, now that you owned a demon.
He’d been silent the entire time you and your best friend talked, not moving an inch, and he was still not saying anything when they left.
“So…” He perked up a little when you started to speak. “Uhm… When was the last time you ate?”
Giyuu shifted on his feet, the first true response to anything that was said that day. His voice was a little raspy, though not overly deep, and it retained a soothing quality. “...three days ago.”
Your friend told you he needed to feed at least once a week, so to be safe, you had to get some meat for him. It would do you no good to starve him, what with his current appearance. “And what type of meat do you prefer?”
The question made him raise his eyebrows briefly, before they fell back into a neutral expression. It seemed not many people, if anyone at all, asked him that. “Salmon.”
You had some salmon filets in the freezer that you could let thaw in the sink for him. It was a curious choice, less… usual? You would think he’d go for more human-like meat, such as pork. Oh well, you would have to look up diet options for him. Your friend told you he was a mutt - a mixed type breed - so you would heed his preference to salmon as well.
You tried not to think how much you focused on feeding him right, when you yourself often skipped eating for days.
Your life with Giyuu settled into a new routine.
You spread your couch for him for a few days until you could get him a true bed. He always seemed surprised by these little gestures of… human kindness you displayed for him.
The first night on the couch, he’d hardly moved from sleeping on his back; the second he was turned onto the side; by the time a week went by, he’d relaxed enough to snuggle close to the green and yellow bunny plushie you had given him.
You took to feeding him twice a week, which always made his eyebrows twitch before he dug in. Though you followed some advice you found on the demon diet, you tried to incorporate salmon as much as possible, so he could enjoy his favorite meat. You found out he was quite the messy eater, bringing a smile to your face whenever you had to gently wipe off the fish scales or other raw bits off of his cheeks.
Since his hair started to tame down a little from its tangled mess - though the baths he’d taken helped too - you thought the diet was a success.
You ordered some clothes for him. Most of them fit him, some were oversized, but all were made for comfort. Sweatpants, cotton shirts, one hoodie for when the weather became colder, some underwear and socks. You would take him shopping for a pair or two of shoes later, as he’d come bare-footed, as well as buying him more clothes that fit him properly - and also maybe jeans and a dress-shirt, for other occasions... What you received through mail would be enough for now.
The bed arrived. Your flat wasn’t that big, forcing you to put his bed in the living room corner instead of his own room. You tried to give him privacy, giving him several choices of different curtains and screens - of which he’d chosen a sliding-door type screen reminiscent of shoji doors.
Taking care of Giyuu gave you a strange satisfaction. Fulfilling his needs came to you like second nature, and you always pushed through your exhaustion to do things for him you would rarely do for yourself before he came into your life.
You started to see merit in owning him when you actually went to take a shower after not showering for three days, thinking ‘I must be stinky to him’. You changed your sheets right after that and laid in your clean bed in a fresh set of clothes with your window open to let in the evening air. It was odd. You felt better somehow, despite the two basic actions taking up the rest of your energy.
Your eyes wandered to the door which led to the living room and wondered about Giyuu’s situation. At times it felt like the two of you were two sides of the same coin. Did either of you really have a purpose in life?
Did Giyuu truly deserve to have an owner like you - struggling with basic human needs?
Probably not.
But you were all he had.
With that depressing thought, you drifted off to sleep.
Before you knew it, it was four months, nearly five, into your companionship arrangement.
One thing you felt bad about was your hermit-type lifestyle. You worked from home as an editor, which was good for your mental health, and also for your new pet, as you were always home in case something happened. It had a bad side too though - like staying cooped up in the apartment forever.
While you worked, you allowed Giyuu to stay in your room with you, setting up a small corner for him with a large beanbag, and a few books to read after you confirmed he was literate. At the moment, he was spread out over the chair on his back, reading through Game of Thrones for the nth time. He really seemed to like that book, perhaps you should get the next one in the series, though you never got to finish the first one, courtesy of your limited energy levels throughout the day.
Or perhaps - your thoughts flitted to the Demon Rights movement - you could see if there was a meet up somewhere nearby, so he could interact with other local demons. You remembered they sometimes did those…
You opened up your social media, the one you recently created solely to interact with the local DR group, and checked the upcoming events. It took a little bit of scrolling but you saw one that suited you.
The Night Parade A.K.A. DR’s 13th Meet up!
It was in a park about 30 minutes away by foot, and the start was around an hour after sunset, which was perfect. The description encouraged people to bring their demon companions for much-needed socializing while the humans could see what others do to help their demons acclimate in homes and other living arrangements.
The last sentence made your heart plummet down to your stomach.
A kindly reminder that demon companions are required to wear collars by law.
There was a link to their website which offered sustainable collars which didn’t hurt the demons while wearing it.
You saved your work and looked up more information about demon collars, immersing yourself in the vast world that was the Demon Rights site and other sources. Once you deemed yourself at least partially educated on the issue, you went back to the DR e-shop and scoured it for one you thought would be okay for your demon companion.
“Giyuu?” you glanced at him, the book he had been holding in his hand was bookmarked and closed, laying on the table you placed next to his beanbag. He’d been reading not a second ago, how was he so fast? At least he didn’t stand up as he had been prone to do the first month whenever you addressed him.
At times you wondered if he was mute, but then he surprised you by speaking with you in a low voice - which happened more often as he got comfortable. “Yes, owner?”
“How do you feel about going outside?”
His eyebrows twitched, which you had come to interpret as excitement. You liked to think you were getting better at reading him. “Whatever you want to do, we will do, owner.”
You nodded. “Well… To go outside, you need to… wear a collar,” you said softly, looking at him and gauging his reaction. He gave away nothing. “And, well, I did my research and there were multiple options and I found one that might-” You beckoned him closer and he practically shot to your side, very nearly startling you. “Oh! Yes, do you think this one would be alright?” You scooted a little to the side with your chair, letting him lean in to see the screen.
It was a relatively plain collar, with nichirin cord hidden in the fabric, and though the locking mechanism was very simple it abided by the law standards. There were no wisteria poison pouches nor electric shock add-ons as your ‘normal’ ‘pet shop’ might offer. The e-shop offered several color options as well.
You watched him as he read the specifications. Was it too much? Maybe you should get just a plain one for other ‘pets’ and try to disguise it as a proper collar.
Still… it felt wrong to put a collar on Giyuu, as if he were an animal. The thought of degrading him like this made your stomach churn.
“Can I-?”
“Go ahead.”
He took the mouse and clicked on the wine red option. Giyuu stood up straight and looked at you blankly, waiting for you to understand what he meant.
Your eyes flitted between him and the screen, raising your eyebrow. “You want this one?”
He nodded.
You supposed it was better than choosing a color for him. You quickly added it to the cart, along with a… leash. The whole situation made you feel icky.
Giyuu hovered over you for a moment longer, before you waved him off to his seat with a mutter of ‘thanks’ over your shoulder.
A deep sigh left you, and though you didn’t see, he picked up on it, observing you for a long moment.
At times he wondered if it was him who burdened you so. He knew however that the problem lay deeper inside of you than just a pet like him. He could smell it on you, the lack of certain hormones that fueled human happiness.
And just as he could smell the lack of them, he could recognize when their levels spiked up - like when you watched him reading in his little corner, or when you saw him dozing in his bed, or enjoying his meat. He also registered that you liked to see him grooming himself, like brushing his hair (rather wrestling it into a manageable mane) and putting oils onto his horns.
His horns, and hair, had been dried out for a long while, the previous shelter not doing much to help out his problems.
Thanks to your tender care and change of diet, he saw his water marks returning too. The one on his chest was the first to appear, the dark blue standing out against his skin. You had yet to notice.
That was the thing he prided himself in. He was not a mutt, as most people assumed. His coloring was a little unusual but he was of the Urokodaki line, Tomioka branch of Water demons. Giyuu was probably one of the last pure blood demons there were, making him stronger than others - if fed properly. And you did. You listened to him and fed him a fish-based diet for his needs.
You were the first owner who asked him about his opinion and cared about it. And that was one single fact which would make him loyal to death to you. He would gladly wear a collar with your name on it, outside and inside, with pride.
Because he was yours, body and soul.
You had nearly forgotten about the event until your calendar gave you a notification. The package from the e-shop had arrived only two days after you ordered it, and you had yet to open it, leaving it to collect dust. The uncomfortable feeling returned. You very much did not want to put a collar on Giyuu, it had to be humiliating - for him - and the last thing you wanted to do was make him out to be some sort of beast he certainly was not.
“Uhm, so,” you started nervously. “We are going out today…”
Giyuu was looking down at you head tilted slightly, as you stood by a small package on the counter. He remained silent.
“I’m really sorry but uhm, by law you need to have a collar… when we go out,” you reminded him gently, fumbling with the package. “I didn’t want to do it but I really need to. I’m so, so sorry. I hate to do this,” you took a deep breath to calm down as you finally took the collar out.
It appeared high quality, the color matching the picture you remembered exactly. There was a complementary tag with Giyuu’s name and your phone number engraved on it; though very standard, it still made you upset.
You fumbled with the lock mechanism to undo it so you could slip it on him. Giyuu kindly lifted his hair up when you reached around his neck to fasten it. You tightened the strap only slightly so it wouldn't chafe, checking with your fingers between the material and his cool skin if it was loose enough; it was.
Electric shocks ran down his spine when you finally touched him - for the first time. You ran a little warmer than he did, and that pleasant contrast against him made the contact all the more enticing. He could not help but close his eyes, content.
“I’m really sorry, once again,” you mumbled, turning back to the box to take out the matching leash you ordered along with it, tears of frustration filling your eyes.
Giyuu finally said, “I don’t mind.”
His words made you freeze.
“I can wear it at home too, if you’d like, owner.”
The walk to the park was dark, obviously, but you somehow didn’t fear the night with Giyuu by your side… on a leash.
I can wear it at home too, if you’d like, owner.
Why did his words not bother him at all? You were upset with yourself; did you really create an image of being possessive of him? Did he think you kept him at home because you didn’t want him to run?
The questions and emotions that followed kept swirling in your brain, even as Giyuu nearly breathed down your neck with his closeness despite giving him as much lead as you could.
The park was closer than you thought. You weren’t the first to arrive, thank god, and you took a moment to admire the decorations, before you turned to Giyuu.
His horns gleamed in the soft light of the fairy lights that were put up by the organizers. His skin seemed to have a warm glow to it for the first time. Looking at him now, you could tell he became much healthier in your care and that made your heart squeeze.
How cruel must his previous owners have been to him to reduce him into the wraith he had been when he came to you?
You shook your head and untucked the leash from his collar. Once on the event grounds, you were free to let the demon companions roam and socialize, and you did want Giyuu to have friends outside of you - if you could call yourself his friend at all.
You were his owner after all.
His dark blue eyes observed you for a moment, as if asking for permission or guidance.
“Giyuu, I want you to have fun with other demons here,” you told him softly, a complex mix of emotions stirring up your belly.
Giyuu could pick up on each and decipher them easily though - you were anxious, sad, yet your ‘happiness’ levels weren’t that low… It was a strange smell on you, especially with how you encouraged him to go ‘have fun’.
But in the end, he strived to make you happy. If you wanted him to talk to others, he would do so.
You watched him walk away towards a group of demons further into the park. You had to tear your eyes away from him, lest you keep staring at him all evening.
Though he recognized some of the demons in the gathering, one in particular nearly made him pull a face.
Shinobu.
The butterfly demon was a menace.
And she made herself known the second she spotted him.
“Oh my, if it isn’t Giyuu. I didn’t know shelters allowed mutts to roam the streets.”
He pressed his lips together in a tight line. Shinobu wasn’t blind, she saw he had a collar, and she knew, of course she knew, that he belonged to a human now. Yet she still chose to taunt him with these untrue things.
“I’m not a mutt,” he focused on the other false information she sprouted. He knew he looked different, but he was of purer blood than her, which she had yet to sense. His face mark had still not appeared either.
She grinned, “Keep telling yourself that and you might actually believe it. Where is the poor human who’s stuck with you?”
He tensed. He was not going to share anything about you with Shinobu of all people.
“I bet the shelter had to pay them to take you so you would stop stinking up the place.”
“That’s not true,” he told her quietly, unwilling to make a scene and ruin your evening. For you will surely come running if you found him arguing with another demon.
“Not that you were worth much in the first place. Probably had to sweeten the deal somehow…”
Only your opinion of him mattered to him. He didn’t care about Shinobu’s grandstanding… but should she take your name into her mouth, he would surely not hold himself back.
“What, did you spread your legs for your owner to take you?”
“That is a false assumption, Miss Demon, and I would kindly suggest you shut up about things you know nothing about.”
Giyuu turned slightly towards you, not letting Shinobu out of his sight in case she tried something. His heart beat fast.
“Ara ara~ did I hit a nerve? My apologies~” Shinobu’s smile was empty of any emotion, yet it was obvious she felt she was right with her assumption. She checked her wrist as if she had a watch there. “It seems the time I had for you ran out. See ya~”
Watching Shinobu retreat brought Giyuu no satisfaction even as he stepped closer to you. He was tense, and he could smell your anger wafting off of you as well.
Had you really come to his defense? He would not have let her talk badly about you, of course, but your presence and words warmed his heart. His chest feeling tight as the strong drumming of his pulse beckoned him to start a dance with you - one he was not sure he could finish just yet. Even so, his teeth ached with need.
His dark blue eyes finally met yours, an unknown emotion swirling in his stomach as he breathed in your scent. You were slowly calming down, shoulders relaxing. Oh, he felt he could purr when he realized it was his proximity that made it so, his face gaining a pleased flush hidden by the darkness of the night.
Giyuu stepped closer to you again, nearly leaning into you in a daze.
"Are you okay?" Your worried voice snapped him out of his trance.
You had defended him and now you were worried? Fuck. He wanted to show you he could protect you too, that he could care for you too, that he could provide for you too…
"I am. I apologize for ruining your evening, owner," he tried to infuse as much of his devotion as he could into his voice, though it was not enough. It would never be enough. His brain whirled with thoughts of how he could show you how he felt for you.
You rushed to reassure him otherwise, making one of the parts inside him preen. “You didn’t ruin anything, Giyuu… What that demon said was uncalled for. If I knew who her… owner was, I’d have a talk with them.”
The situation truly made you mad. Giyuu might not have been as aware of her accusation, but you’d looked up everything the Demon Rights movement protested and felt sick at what you found.
Demon prostitution.
Forced, of course.
You were glad he had been in the bath at the time, because your reaction had been so visible and uncontrolled you had to walk outside for a minute to breathe.
The thought of you forcing Giyuu into that kind of thing made you feel even sicker inside as you calmed down in the cool outside air.
Your demon pressed close to you so close you could feel his reassuring warmth, his torso nearly touching your arm. You breathed in his scent and blinked slowly, lulled by his presence.
A black haired man caught your eye. No, not man, a demon - a demon with an electric collar, one you quickly scrolled past when you saw it in the e-shop. He seemed to be snarling at another demon, a very pale blonde one, before a human woman touched his arm, speaking to him with a smile.
You recognized the woman from the DR group - she was one of the organizers, Mrs Kamado.
You observed the interaction between the black haired demon and the organizer, realizing that the electric collar was needed for him. He seemed to have selective hearing and it was obvious that she didn’t use it heavily at all, choosing to talk him down instead… which seemed to be working.
“His name is Muzan.”
You turned to the young man standing next to you. He had a scar on his forehead, his eyes and hair a dark color with shades of red gleaming through when the light hit him just right. “Sorry?”
“The demon is Muzan, he’s an old coot and a bit of a brat but he isn’t that bad,” he explained with a smile. “Oh, sorry. I’m Kamado Tanjiro, my parents are the ones who organized this.”
“It’s nice to meet you. My name is [Name],” you introduced yourself, fully focusing on him.
A click coming from behind you made your head snap around. Giyuu was standing there, looking away from you, seemingly uninterested in what was happening in front of him. You frowned in confusion, turning back to Tanjiro.
Even with the hiccup at the start, you counted tonight as success. After your brief introduction to Tanjiro, who you learned was an University student at the Ubuyashiki University, he showed you around, guiding you through meeting many owners and demon companions throughout the night. You didn’t meet with the female demon who bothered Giyuu again, thankfully.
You dropped your keys into a bowl by the door with a tired sigh. All the socializing drained you.
You dropped Giyuu’s leash to take off your cross-body bag before you turned to him to take off his collar. You frowned, noticing the gleam of the metal lock seemed a bit dull compared to before.
No matter, you took off the leash and reached for the mechanism.
It did not budge.
You tried again, getting the same result.
“This is strange… Come with me,” you took his hand and led him to sit on your couch so you could see the collar properly in the light of your living room.
The metal was scratched - badly. Your heart dropped into your stomach. Was there a physical fight between Giyuu and the female demon before you noticed them? How had it gotten so busted up?
You tried to open it again and again, your attempts getting a little desperate as you tried to find a new angle.
Tears of frustration filled your eyes.
You never wanted to make Giyuu wear it. How were you going to take it off of him? It must be so insulting, being degraded into a pet.
Fuck, you fucked up.
Pale warm hands covered yours, halting your efforts. Your eyes met his, the impossibly deep blue of Giyuu’s soul stared back at you. There was no fear, no judgment. He was looking at you kindly, as if it was not your fault, as if he wanted to reassure you.
Your throat clogged up with emotion.
“I do not mind, owner,” he said lowly. “I don’t mind keeping it on at home.”
You pressed your lips together in an unhappy line. “I’m sorry, Giyuu…”
His fingers grabbed your hands in a loose hold and he brought them up to his lips, nuzzling the knuckles gently with closed eyes. “Do not be, owner. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
You had nothing to be sorry for, because he had been the one to destroy the mechanism. You would have never allowed him to wear the collar at home, even if he asked. He had realized that while you were putting the collar onto him, and that’s why he did it.
It worked.
He smiled when you turned away from him.
After a shower, Giyuu laid in his bed, staring at the bunny you had given him when he first came to you. The pattern had reminded him of his old friend a little, but the scent had been yours, all yours.
It was clear to him the bunny plushie had belonged to you before you gave it to him, even if you washed it before he received it.
Now months later, your scent was gone.
But he could easily imagine it as he hugged the bunny close to his chest. He could imagine it was your body against his, warming him; your scent, the one he breathed in today, that enveloped him in comfort and… something else.
There was a strange feeling in his gut that he ignored for the moment.
Would you hug him, if he asked for it? Would you scent the bunny plushie, if he asked for it? Would you become his bunny, if he asked for it?
He quickly backpedaled.
His bunny?
He… quite liked that. You could be his bunny, and he would be your protector, as it should be.
The feeling in his belly spread into his chest, making him feel hot in his pajamas. Giyuu was confused as to what it could be, pondering on the issue as he snuggled the bunny even closer, imagining it was you.
What had happened differently today?
You gave him the collar, you went to the park, you walked back, you tried taking off the collar…
You touched him.
His hips bucked, making his eyes snap open. He was… humping the bunny unconsciously, thinking of you.
Though Giyuu realized it was strange to do so, he continued, fantasy overtaking his mind as he closed his eyes again. Your body, pliable and warm under him; your voice, the pretty moans it could produce; your cunt, sopping wet about to be filled with his cu-
Oh fuck.
Giyuu realized what was happening.
He’d entered his heat.
The morning came too early.
Your clock read 10:36 AM when you groaned, knowing you won’t be able to sleep anymore. The least you could do was get up and do your hygiene, even if you didn’t feel that hungry for breakfast.
You tiptoed into the bathroom, the sight in the mirror nearly sending you back to bed. You had dark circles under your eyes, your cheeks puffy from sleep, and your hair messy. Nevertheless, you ran your hands through your hair to make it half-presentable, and brushed your teeth, checking your notifications on your phone. There was a friendship request on your social media from Tanjiro, which made you smile and quickly accept.
By the time you were done with your teeth, you had already started up a conversation with him as he talked about the bakery his family owned. You promised to visit him, and the bakery, when you had the time.
The living room was dark, as it had been since you’d gotten Giyuu. You walked closer to check on him, the bit of light from your open bedroom door enough to see him by.
He was snuggled with the plushie you’d given him. The cute sight brought a smile to your face, and you went to cover him back up with his blanket, when you noticed something odd.
Giyuu was sweaty, his pajama shirt damp and his hair sticking to his face as he panted softly, noises of discontent leaving him as his brows furrowed.
You quickly stepped closer to him, sliding the shoji-like curtain along smoothly. You reached out to touch his forehead, worried.
Just as you felt the heat of his skin, his hand grabbed your wrist tightly. “Don’t,” he rasped out, his eyes opening a sliver, feverishly bright.
You frowned, “But Giyuu, you’re burning u-”
“You can’t-” he gasped when you pushed past his weak resistance and touched his sweaty forehead. Again, he tried to fight your hand on him. “You can’t touch me.”
“What? Why can’t I?” you pulled back slightly, trying to respect his boundaries but also worried out of your mind, leaning over to look him in the eyes.
He let out a strangled sound, nearly crawling back in the bed away from you. His face was flushed a deep red as you reached for him again. “I’m in heat.” He pushed his bunny plushie against you, but you only set it aside and grabbed his wrist. “S-stop touching me, I- I can’t-”
I can’t hold myself back, is what he wanted to say. Giyuu had wanted to say a lot of things before touching you properly. He had wanted to court you, to give you proper courting gifts and attention, to show you he could be a good mate. This unplanned heat triggered by your touch last night was throwing a stick into his plans.
He wanted you, he needed you.
You were oblivious to his thoughts, worried out of your mind. “But isn’t the heat painful? Why don’t you take off your shirt?” You didn’t press forward but still gave him no room to escape. “I want to help you, Giyuu.”
Did you even know what you were saying? What your words were doing to him? His face flushed an even deeper red.
You misinterpreted his blush for embarrassment and your thoughts raced in circles. How could you make him more comfortable?
“Why don’t I take off my shirt too? Look,” you quickly discarded the oversized shirt you slept in, leaving you in your panties as you knelt in front of him on his bed. “Now your turn.”
Giyuu was stupefied, and pliable, as you sat him up and took off his shirt as well, making you gasp. His chest was half-covered with demon markings of deep blue imitating water in the way they flowed and centered - it was like an artist splashed him with color and left it to dry.
Your fingers reached out to trace one such mark going over his heart, making him shiver. You glanced up at his face to check if he was alright.
Giyuu seemed to be in a trance, staring at your exposed chest. The sight made you blush as you finally realized the situation you were in.
“Can I touch you?” he asked roughly, his voice raspy.
“I- okay…” you assented in confusion.
Once he’d gained permission he nearly attacked your chest with a hunger previously unknown to you. His hands cupped your breasts and his hot tongue laved at the skin, quickly getting to one of your nipples to circle the areola. His lips closed around it, sucking it harshly, making you cry out in pain.
“Stop!”
As if burned, Giyuu pulled back, saliva connecting your nipple and his glistening lips, a teary eyed expression on his face.
The sight hurt your heart, and you sighed, giving up. “Just be gentle, okay?”
He nodded and licked your nipple much more gently, staring you in the eyes the whole time, gauging your face for any discomfort.
There was none, the texture of his tongue sending sparks of pleasure down your spine. You breathed out shakily, closing your eyes as you arched your back slightly, offering him more, urging him to continue.
Giyuu hummed against your flesh, making you shiver, his thumb stroking the unattended nipple softly. Your breath hitched, and you gripped his pajama pants tightly, the slight shift of the fabric giving him enough stimulation to moan. It reminded you that there was something more stiff than your nipples.
Your hand trailed up, cupping his hardness. He bucked his hips, moaning into your chest as you started to pump his shaft through the pants, wetness gathering at the tip.
Giyuu cursed under his breath, switching to the other nipple to give them equal attention with his gentle sucking, whining when you squeezed the tip of his cock a little, his teeth grazing your breast.
You very nearly whimpered when he did that. In retaliation the hand stroking his cock grabbed the hem of his pants instead, your other hand reaching inside to stroke his length unobscured.
Giyuu had to pull back from your breast lest he bite down as he groaned through his teeth, resting his forehead on your collarbone, his tongue darting out to lick at your skin while his thumbs continued to play with your nipples. He could hardly resist leaning more into you, rising to his knees and burying his head in your neck, hot open-mouthed kisses trailing all over you as your head fell back, giving him more access.
He laved at your skin, kissing it, sucking on it, creating deep hickeys as he pleased, the sensation drawing low whines and moans from your throat.
Then, he bit down on your pulse point gently.
Your hold on his cock tightened, the next stroke rougher than before.
“Don-Don’t! I’m about to-!” You quickly let go. He groaned loudly, as if in pain when your hand retreated from his pants. “Please, I need-!”
Your face felt hot, his desperate state made you so turned on you didn’t know what to do with yourself, except squeeze your thighs together. “What do you need, Giyuu?”
He felt as if he wanted, no, needed to eat you up, as if you were prey and him a predator - as it should have been before demons turned into glorified pets.
But the feeling was too other to be just hunger; it was also thirst, for the sweet sounds you made when he marked you up, for an even sweeter sound you would make when he bit you and claimed you as his own.
“T-turn over, owner. I need you,” he told you breathlessly, his voice gaining a raspier quality as he pawed at your hips, claws retracted. You’d told him you would help him, didn’t you? Well, he was asking for that help now.
The panties you wore were soaked, and you knew what exactly he wanted you to do. You knelt in front of him and took the panties off, obeying his request and turning around to offer yourself to him on your hands and knees.
There was the sound of fabric being ripped apart before his hand grabbed your ass, thumb digging in as he pulled your flesh back just enough to expose your pussy. “I’m sorry, I just- I just need you.”
Giyuu slid the tip of his cock between your pussy lips, gathering your juices and spreading his precum all over, before he finally started to push in. He let out a shaky, drawn out moan.
The stretch burned slightly, and you could do nothing but grip the sheets under your hands and push back against him, wanting more.
“Sh-shit-” He bottomed out, his length pushing against something that made your arms give out and you fell forward, your forearms now supporting your weight.
“Can’t help myself-” he pulled out halfway before slamming back in, a whine leaving his throat at the feeling. His hands held your hips in a bruising grip.
Then, he set a rough and fast pace. He fucked you like a beast unleashed, like you were his fucktoy, his thrusts uncoordinated and sloppy - disharmonic, desperate.
You clenched your eyes shut as fireworks sparked behind your eyelids as the heat built up between the two of you. Giyuu was near-painfully thick and long. Even inexperienced, his dick hit all the right places, drawing breathy moans past your lips quietly.
He himself became non-verbal, panting and keening lowly as he tried to chase his ecstasy. He leaned forward, his right arm supporting his weight just over your shoulder, left hand snaking around to stroke your puffy clit in tight circles, completely out of rhythm with his thrusts. His lips placed open mouthed kisses on your shoulders, nibbling on the flesh and sucking hickeys, staking his claim as the knot in your belly tightened.
Then, near the height of your pleasure, you felt a pinch at the junction of your shoulder and neck.
As if triggered, your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, making you quiver in Giyuu's tight embrace, even as he still rocked his hips against yours in frantic tight circles, keening against the bite in your shoulder. Each thrust inside sent another wave of pleasure, until you did not know when one ended and another began. You could hardly form a thought, only sounds you vaguely recognized as yours left your throat.
Warmth spilled inside of you after an erratic series of rough thrusts, his arms hugging you tightly, putting his whole weight on you.
The slight pain in your shoulder faded as Giyuu pulled back to lick the bite gently. His half-lidded eyes stared as his saliva closed the punctures, slightly discolored flesh covering the mating bite mark.
Your eyes felt heavy and you were tired, but his cock was still hard even after finishing…
"Can- can I-?"
You closed your eyes. "Mhm, if it'll make you feel better…"
His arms let up a little, laying his forehead between your shoulder blades. "You're tired…"
There was no use denying it. "Yes. But, doesn't it hurt?" You rolled your hips experimentally; his hands gripped your body tighter as if to stop you.
"We can stay like this… I don't mind," he said, his cock twitching. Giyuu rolled you both onto your sides, staying inside. The movement made your inner muscles spasm and he bucked his hips. "Fuck… perhaps, only a little…"
In contrast to his pace before, he rocked into you gently and slowly, letting you feel every inch without overwhelming you.
"This okay?" he asked in a strained voice. You only hummed in response, enjoying the intimacy.
Giyuu spilled his seed twice more into you as you half-dozed in his warm embrace, letting out a high pitched whine once in a while at the overstimulation, yet he could not stop - not until you were overfilled and it was seeping out around his dick.
You must have drifted off at some point, the next thing you remembered was Giyuu kissing your shoulder gently, muttering, “Mhm, good morning… or evening.”
You sighed out, relaxing in the warmth of his embrace. “How you feelin’?”
“Perfectly fine, or at least a little better,” he whispered, nuzzling into you.
You were sore, and the stickiness of dried sweat and cum on you started to bother you quickly. You wanted a shower.
You tapped his arm with your finger and made to move away from him.
“No, no, don’t move yet,” his voice was strained as his cock twitched inside of you. “I won’t be able to control myself-”
You smiled tiredly and arched your back a bit, pushing your ass against him.
“Ye-es, fuck-” His hips rutted forward, muttering “Yes, yes, yes-” like a mantra, his arms tightening around you as he chased his pleasure inside of you yet again, his and your cum from before enough lubrication for what he did.
Your muscles were sore but you let him do as he pleased, his moans and heavy breathing making you feel hot all over. You knew you wouldn’t be able to finish but you didn’t mind, his noises bringing you a delight of its own.
Your hand came up to caress his arms gently as he fucked you, a whine leaving his throat at the tender touch, the next few thrusts sloppier and more forceful before he slammed as deep as he could with a shaky groan. Heat filled you again as he came.
You smiled widely as he panted, pulling out and making his seed spill over your thighs.
His hold became looser as he pressed soft kisses on your back and shoulders. “Sorry…”
You hummed, “There is no need to apologize. I could use a shower though, you coming with me?”
“Yes.” Giyuu opened his arms as you stood up. You were grateful your floors weren’t covered by a carpet, so any splatters his semen would make could be mopped up.
After a long hot shower, where he made sure to knead your muscles and wash your back for you gently, you wrapped yourself in a towel, and went to the kitchen to grab something to eat, your tummy rumbling with hunger.
Perhaps Giyuu needed some meat too?
It was nearly two months later when you could attend another DR meetup (15th, you missed one during that time due to a deadline you nearly forgot). You’d kept in contact with Tanjiro, quickly becoming close friends as he complained about managing Muzan and you about ‘adulting’.
You didn’t reveal the fact that you started sleeping with Giyuu. After that first night, it seemed as if a dam had broken, and he became clingy and needy for you nearly every chance he got, going as far as distracting you during work with neck kisses and warming your pussy with his cock.
It was not all about the sex either, he started going with you when you went out to shop for groceries, no matter the time of the day, keeping close to you like a dark protector and glaring at anyone who dared to look at you wrong.
You thought it was strange but let it be. He wasn’t harming anyone so it was probably fine.
“If it isn’t [Name]!” Tanjiro greeted you with a hug, earning him a low hiss from Giyuu. Tanjiro offered him a handshake, which Giyuu took, but you could see the amount of effort he had to spend to not crush Tanjiro’s hand, making you laugh a little. It was cute how protective he was of you.
Muzan was arguing with Douma, the pale blond demon from last time, a few steps away from the Kamado family, while Nezuko tried to drag him back to the organizers. Douma was smiling as his own owner - a ginger-haired woman - hugged him from behind to pull him away.
You spent a small while talking to each of the Kamado siblings, asking about school and such, when Muzan joined your little group.
He took one look at you and scoffed loudly. “I can’t believe you mated with that loser.”
Everything stopped. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared wide-eyed at him. “What?”
He rolled his gleaming red eyes in annoyance. “Are you stupid? Your loser of a demon, you mated with him.” Muzan shook his head and crossed his arms, staring at you down his nose.
You could only blink a few times, slowly turning to Giyuu.
“I- what?”
Giyuu had an innocently impassive look on his face, as if nothing was wrong. You could see, however, with your trained eye that there was a bright blush adorning his ears and a drop of sweat disappearing under his collar. He remained silent.
AN: I want to credit the idea for Muzan as a bratty demon of the Kamado family to @sunandflame because she was the first one who came up with it, among other ideas we brainstormed while talking about this at first.
I'm a bitch so there will be part 2 in the far future when I get the horny for it.
dividers made by the amazing @/benkeibear (I love you, Rhy)
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#tomioka giyuu#smut#giyuu x reader#giyuu x y/n#giyuu x you#tomioka giyuu x reader#giyuu smut#kny#kny x reader#kny fanfic#kimetsu no yaiba fanfic#demon slayer fanfic#demon slayer x reader#reader insert#kakushino
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𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐄 | 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐱 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠) 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑
Summary: A heated confrontation between Ghost and König occurs just before the takeoff. The colonel tests the boundries of sanity and good taste, when he finds Ghost on a battlefield alone. Displayed for him to take down with a single pull of the trigger.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 | 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐
A/N: Apologise for the delay as I mentioned I was on vacations and now I'm trying to catch up with the requests. Thanks for your patience! ( ˘ ³˘)
Y/C ━ Your Codename
Poorly translated German ━ correct me if needed!
Warnings: reader is eastern european coded, desc. of blood/injuries/unalive bodies, smut (very brief desc., slow and gentle sex, p in v, voyeurism)
Word count: 3.7k
YALL I RAN OUT OF KONIG'S GIFS WHAT THE HECK
The armory was bursting at the seams, when many KorTac soldiers came in and out, preparing for the upcoming takeoff. The racks usually filled with rifles were emptied, gear sets laying on the shelfs mostly gone.
The tall figure of the lieutenant obscured the privates dressed all in black. The yellow light dangling from the ceiling casted a shadow inside of the skull’s eye sockets. Black irises merged with the pupils of his eyes.
Ghost hadn’t put his vest nor the gun holster on yet. He left the room in which he and his lover slept in, then headed straight to the magazine. The man needed to clean his gun and sharpen the knives before the departure. It was a part of his routine, almost becoming a ritual of sorts. A brilliant soldier.
Ghost walked into the narrow alley. To his dismay there was already another person sitting on the metal bench against the wall. But not just simply another person, no. It was him, the king.
König sat with his legs spread open, casually. An assault rifle was held firmly, when his opposite hand cleaned the barrel precisely and slowly. The colonel wasn’t in a rush. Ghost could feel the man's cold, blue eyes following him until the Britishman stopped near one of the shelves with gear.
Simon took a gun holster in his hand and swiftly wrapped it around his massive thigh. With a quick movement, he secured the strap, before moving to putting on a tactical vest. Everything went according to Ghost’s liking, the cocky Austrian man kept his mouth shut.
Until he didn’t.
━ Your medic is a treasure, leutnant [ger.: lieutenant]. Would kill to have one this skilled on my team. And equally pretty too. ━ König chuckled under his black hood, his shoulders slightly shaking. Some would say it was a nervous laugh, but Ghost’s experience told him it was not. The colonel had a filthy mouth, that’s all.
A silence followed his blunt provocations as Ghost kept adjusting the vest’s straps over his jacket. Simon Riley was not easy to provoke with such jokes. However, his mannerism exposed his annoyance a little too much.
━ You know ━ the colonel continued pushing Simon’s buttons, checking his boundaries. Especially those regarding his girlfriend ━ you should be more careful with spreading such vulnerable pictures like the one you sent me yesterday.
━ Thought I made it clear she’s off your limits, no?
The tone of Ghost’s voice was firm and almost menacing, when he reloaded the handgun and put it into the holster.
━ Nicht wirklich [ger.: Not really] ━ König set aside prepared rifle and leaned over his own thighs, one forearm resting upon his lap. ━ Besides, isn’t your little union… ━ he paused, searching for a descriptive word, circling his wrist in the air ━ prohibited? It would be a pity to destroy a career in the army, ja?
━ Are you threatening us?
━ Do you feel threatened?
Ghost turned around to face the cocky bastard, now standing to his full height. Even then, the man with a skull mask kept his emotions in check. He knew better.
━ No.
━ Then it’s clear. ━ The colonel of KorTac said in a calm manner, grabbing the rifle, before slowly heading towards the armory’s exit. He didn’t turn around, not once. ━ I’m actually looking for more of those pictures.
With a steady pace König left the room, leaving the lieutenant behind. Alone this time.
The sound of clamped gloves could be heard, man’s veins on his palm popped out. Ghost gritted his teeth silently, trying to ignore that bloody moron. Lieutenant knew perfectly well that you were his. Only Simon could touch you, kiss you, protect you. But something about the Austrian man not giving up made him annoyed.
Especially because he was just fucking around with Simon, pushing him, testing his limits, joking about his girl.
It was you. You were Ghost’s weak point and König abused that recognition.
The knowledge that if the mission went smoothly, the Task Force would pack up and move was reassuring. So therefore Ghost would do everything in his power to make it happen. He wanted to leave Austria as soon as possible.
Not so long after the encounter in the magazine, the two cooperative groups were loading into the off-road, military cars resembling a van. They were really spacious.
When Ghost left the building of KorTac base and his eyes got used to the sunlight, he managed to locate you near one of the vans alongside… well, Colonel König. You were casually talking with him.
Gaz couldn’t go with you this time, even though he insisted he would be fine, he just got a little burnt here and there, that’s all. But Captain Price wasn’t having it and gave Kyle Garrick an order to stay in the hospital wing for that day.
You didn’t like the sight of fresh wounds forming on Gaz’s skin – burns were quite serious injuries, even blisters popping out. Perhaps the scars were not life threatening and won’t stay forever, but he had to give it a rest. He would heal eventually.
The lieutenant would rather have Gaz or Soap jumping around you than this stubborn Austrian man, who happened to behave or think… quite indecent.
Simon Riley knew how some men are and it wasn’t really hard to deduce what kind of man König was. If he only got the chance, he would lay his sticky hands all over you. Ghost couldn’t let it happen.
By the time the man with the skull mask approached the vehicle, you were already sitting on the bench next to him. God, why were you so casual about the colonel? The Britishman’s blood was on the edge of boiling.
“Fuckin’ hell”, he thought to himself.
━ How’s your leg, sir? ━ You asked, continuing a chit chat. All of the memories of last night’s ambush came back, your body shuffling in one place, trying to adjust in a tight space of the van.
━ Wunderbar [ger.: Wonderful]. Such skillful hands make wonders, Y/C.
The Austrian man was towering over you even in the sitting position. He was indeed a giant. König’s legs were far too close to yours, trying to to rub against Riley’s girlfriend.
That motherfucker was bold.
With a loud thud of his steps Ghost got in the van and walked all the way to the talking duet. He forced his way between the colonel and his teammate. Ghost sat letting out a loud sigh.
━ Thought you’re stayin’ with Gaz. ━ The grumpy lieutenant said, his dark eyes looking directly at you, completely ignoring the presence of a man on his right.
At this time, Simon felt an urge to place his gloved hand over your thigh – to feel your flesh, your heat, just that you’re real and his. A simple act of tenderness that he had to suppress. For now.
━ Negative. Captain’s orders.
You explained to Ghost that you were not supposed to go into the battlefield that day. Well, not directly at least. Every pair of medic hands would be useful after the mission has ended. The KorTac and Task Force had a stronghold to conquer. It was a tough one.
Tougher than they estimated at the very beginning.
And even though some would feel anxious with taking their loved ones to such dangerous places, Ghost knew you could handle it. You were a tough woman after all, not some fragile porcelain doll.
━ How copy?
One of his colleagues’ voices resounded from the radio on his broad shoulder.
━ Almost there.
König moved swiftly, yet quietly along the staircase leading to the rooftop. He heard clearly the sounds of machine guns and the yelping of dying soldiers nearby. The colonel moved smoothly in the darkness of the night, his black hood blending within the surroundings.
He was so intoxicated with the smell of gore, he didn’t even feel the pulsating pain, radiating from his freshly sewed wound. A little reminder of someone.
When he leaned over the corner of the hallway, he managed to take down three of the enemy's troopers, putting holes in their vulnerable necks, blood splashing around. König acted fast and effectively.
The Austrian man finally reached the rooftop and noticed the laid out sniper’s rifle and a bloodied corpse near the station. It looked like someone took the previous sniper by surprise and ended his miserable life.
Man with a covered face clicked with his tongue, disappointed. König made sure the area was safe for him to take the position, checking the other rooftops. He set aside his own rifle and laid down on the gravel ground.
━ In a position. Any other problems? ━ The colonel checked in the radio channel, waiting for the soldier’s confirmation.
━ No, sir.
━ Gut [ger.: Good]. Over and out.
König crawled closer over the rough texture beneath him and positioned himself near the rifle’s scope (and the still warm corpse). He had a perfect observing spot for the whole accommodation.
Turning the weapon gently he took a look over the main building’s third floor – he saw KorTac soldiers making their way to the ground floor after checking for the potential hiding spots of their enemy.
All of the shootings were dying out.
Then, moving to the smaller structure nearby, König noticed Captain Price securing the target in one of the rooms. Few seconds later an announcement echoed in his earpiece, breaking the short lasting silence.
━ This is Bravo 0-6, target secured. I repeat, target secured.
━ Kinderspiel [ger.: Piece of cake]. ━ Colonel smirked under his hood.
He decided to stay at the sniper’s position for a little longer, making sure that the area was safe to move around with a captured target. König moved the rifle’s scope towards the courtyard in the middle of the buildings. For a moment he couldn’t believe he was so lucky.
There he was – a ghost surrounded by the enemy, cornered at the square. All alone.
König pointed the cross to the man’s chest. If only the Austrian soldier pulled the trigger on the sniper rifle, he would eliminate the obstacle standing between him and his latest obsession.
But was he actually capable of doing it?
The thought alone of you crying in König’s arms, mourning your lover, sent shivers down his spine. His heart skipped a beat and his blood ran cold. Could he really make you suffer this much? At the end of the day, he was a heartless executioner.
The colonel inhaled through his teeth, trying not to move in the slightest and cleared his head. He pointed the rifle at his current target and held his breath in.
Steady.
In a matter of seconds, everything went so silent, he was able to hear the owl in the nearest forest.
Until there was a gunshot, scaring the birds away from the tree crowns. König pulled the trigger. And then another time.
The hired mercenary incoming from Ghost’s left collapsed onto the tile floor with a thud.
The colonel shifted the aim and hit the other two men coming out from the building, securing a lieutenant of TF 141. He observed through the little glass piece, how Ghost stabbed his opponent with a knife and then swiftly turned around to throw another one to the enemy guard.
When the area was cleansed, König swore that for a brief moment Ghost soul-consuming eyes were locked on him. Or at the sniper position at least.
He knew.
Needless to say, the man with a black hood liked to poke the bear with a stick, curiously waiting to find out – what would the bear do. Because at the end of the day, there was no one that could defeat the king.
Was he a depraved, rotten to the bone’s marrow person? No, natürlich [ger.: naturally]. A little twisted, but not a psychopath. Therefore he could not damage nor terminate the lieutenant from Great Britain. As far as his weird fascination with you went, he would not want to make you suffer by murdering your lover, ja?
When all of the enemies were gone (one way or another – by greeting the reaper or running away) the team gathered in the meeting point, a few klicks away from the fortress they just stormed. A couple of helos landed on the forest grounds.
From one of which you walked out.
━ Everyone in one piece? ━ You jokingly said, acknowledging most of the team being unharmed.
━ Apart from the Austrian bastards bitin’ the dust, we’re more than good. ━ Price told you, placing one of him palms over your shoulder. Only then he noticed the presence of KorTac colonel and apologized quickly. ━ No offense.
━ None taken, Captain. What is important is that we’ve a target in custody. Gute arbeit.
König slowly moved past the three Task Force operators and went inside of the helicopter. Side by side with other KorTac soldiers. One in particular patted the colonel's back. The operator had a patch with callsign “Horangi”.
They seemed to be good friends.
━ The fuck he just said? ━ Ghost seemed to be a bit offended that he didn’t understand what König said in his native language.
━ Good job. ━ You explained, eyes following the gigantic man who taught you this phrase.
The voyages by helos were definitely not your favorite. Sudden changes of pressure, turbulence and the dim lighting – it all made you so sleepy. Normally, if the flight was less crowded, you’d lay your head on Ghost’s shoulder and let yourself slightly drift off.
Hilariously not professional of you, but hey – since childhood you were able to fall asleep almost everywhere: in a bus, standing, half sitting, on bloody weddings even. And then, when woken up, you immediately came back “to the living”.
Thank God the flight back to the base wasn’t long and you didn’t take a nap in front of so many professionals.
Although not many soldiers needed medical attention, you went straight to the infirmary, while rolling the sleeves of your shirt up. Most of them needed to get their scratches cleaned. A piece of cake, right?
Well, not so easy nor calming with hyped up Gaz talking all the time behind your shoulder, playfully asking about the operation. The pain relieving medication was still in his bloodstream, providing him with too much energy. Really, he should have been asleep by now.
“Gosh, did they inject him with dosage for a horse?”, you wondered.
Normally, you liked him talking. You were a good listener and Kyle could talk to you for hours as you sat there in silence, taking every story he came up with.
But sometimes, after the long lasting missions you needed to clear your head. To ease the constantly running thoughts and just… calm down. And today was that day. You needed silence, but didn’t have enough resolution to tell your teammate to politely shut up.
So he kept bothering you, while you took care of the soldiers.
Captain was on a call with Laswell and Shepherd, meanwhile Ghost put the captured target in confinement. At least until the Golden Eagle decides what to do next with the man responsible for the latest terrorism in Austria.
Task Force 141 job was done, all that was left were formalities.
When you finally left the infirmary’s cleaned station and said your goodnights with Gaz, you returned to the room you and Ghost were sleeping in. Well, technically it was his room, but no one dared to check if the lieutenant was sleeping there alone.
It was still better than sleeping in barracks.
You weren’t surprised when you found the dormitory empty with no trace of your boyfriend there. He had to be busy. The vision of a warm shower was tempting, especially that probably most if not all of the other operatives were sleeping soundly by now.
You left everything that wasn’t necessary in “the dorm” and headed through the narrow hallways, your mind already imagining the streams of clear water running down your skin.
But the lit lamp in the common room on your right caught your attention. There shouldn’t be anyone there by this time.
You took a curious look through the door frame and saw the bulky man hunched over the paper splayed on the table.
━ Simon? What are you doing? ━ A simple question left your mouth as you entered the small room and left the doors slightly opened. Not on purpose, of course. It was a habit. A bad one.
━ Price dozed off after the call. Someone has to fill those papers. Fuckin’ ol’ man.
Ghost smirked under his balaclava and solid mask, when he stood up from the chair and moved towards his girlfriend. The two of you met halfway.
━ And he can’t do this in the morning?
━ We’re leavin’ by then ━ he stepped closer, his figure towering over you. By now, the lieutenant has taken off his gear too. When he placed his palms on your hips, a quiet laugh slipped through your lips. ━ What’s so funny?
━ You’re kind of old too.
━ Yeah? You think so? ━ Ghost teased you softly, before rapidly grabbing a firm hold onto your thighs, his bare hand squeezing the flesh just under your ass. Only a thin layer of clothes separated his coarse digits and your smooth skin.
With a quick lift, he hoisted you over his hips and came closer to the wall behind you. When your body was squeezed between your lieutenant and the wall, you caressed Ghost’s biceps and shoulders, soothing his muscles after a long day.
━ You think an ol’ man can do this?
He asked you, before burying his now exposed jaw into your neck, placing light kisses. Ghost’s movements followed the tendon up, licking a stripe with his warm tongue from time to time.
━ Fuck, Simon… ━ You practically whimpered, when he latched onto sweet spot on your neck. ━ Not here.
━ We’re alone, they’re all sleepin’, luv ━ Simon tried to reassure you, starting to work on undoing your zipper and button. ━ Come on, you’re so fuckin’ tensed.
He let you slide down the wall to stand by your own strength, it was easier to slip your trousers down this way.
That night you let him do all the work. Not like you had much to do, he was just faster than you. Eager, longing for intimacy.
Ghost slid down the hem of your trousers and underwear down, just a little and lifted you up by the wall again. But this time, you could clearly feel his hardening member underneath your own crotch.
Your cheeks were flustered and heart pounding fast. The closeness with Simon Riley made you excited every time you were this exposed to each other.
His hand sneaked down to release himself from his confinements, brown eyes kept on you and your beautiful features. Always.
Ghost’s left hand was grippind the plush of your thigh firmly, almost like he was holding onto his own dear life. Meanwhile, while Simon was unbuckling his belt and cargo pants, you snuck the hand under the black balaclava and brushed through his blonde hair. The tough man groaned into your face. He fucking loved when you played with his hair.
And vice versa.
You smacked your lips against his scarred ones, moments before he finally pushed himself into you, causing his precious girlfriend to moan straight into his mouth.
A sudden wave of heat overflowed your muscles, making you almost limp in his hold. Your arms entangled around his shoulders, when he kept rocking you upwards.
Ghost held you firmly by your thighs wrapped around his waist, bucking his hips into you in a steady rhythm. He wasn’t rushing anywhere, the lieutenant had a fucking eternity if needed to spend with you.
The pleasant feeling of your body around him and the sound of your voice was all he needed after such an intense mission. It was the best type of treatment for his wounds – the physical and emotional ones. He knew this from the experience.
You were his remedy. The cure.
━ Oh, Simon ━ you sweetly muttered, resting your burning hot cheek against his broad shoulder. ━ Like this. Please.
How could he deny this pretty request?
Ghost kept lulling you into the dreamy state, bouncing you on his length. When you managed to keep your eyes open, you remembered the slight gap you left between the doors and its frame.
It didn’t matter at the time, as you were keeping it fairly quiet. Only soft whimpers and a few guttural moans from time to time left the lovers’ lips.
━ There you go ━ Simon whispered next to your ear in a praising manner ━ all better, yeah?
He was right and you nodded with your head, rubbing against Simon’s clothes. You finally managed to relax.
And when your glossy eyes opened again, facing those opened doors, you saw the colonel peeping at the two of you. His black hood with bleached stripes were distinct in the lighting of the room.
He wasn’t even trying to be sneaky about it. The Austrian man was halfway standing in the common room and devouring the show you two put for him. Only his growing bulge made him uncomfortable with his own pants.
König’s gaze drilled into your vulnerable form and all strength you had left, was to stare at him in this dreamy fucked out state, your boyfriend put you in.
Your body was held by Ghost against a wall, securely. Limbs going numb from pleasure, tears of joy gathering in the corners of your eyes, under the fluttering eyelashes.
And all you could do was just clinging to Simon’s strong arm.
You considered a version of events, where all of this was only a hallucination. That the colonel wasn’t really there, standing in the doorframe. God, at least he wasn’t doing anything indecent.
But if this was all true, if König was watching you two fuck, it was the most beautiful day in his pathetic life.
TAG LIST: (apologies if I missed someone) @nijiru @squidsal @thefightingdragon @emily-roberts @btszn @ladymacbeth1987 @kingjulian0o9 @leonasbunny @bladedriot yamishibai09 crystlizabeth breezum malninen i-feel-violated strawberryscals maladaptivedaydreamingbum kmcmpmd thefightingdragon cumbermovels am-just-a-simp bbq-titties cheezitwh0re
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FULL MOON — PARK JISUNG
pairing || werewolf!jisung x fem!reader
synopsis || your boyfriend, jisung has his rut and has been avoiding you all day. for the first time his rut has aligned with a full moon making it much more powerful than usual. he's afraid of hurting you, but you show him just how strong you can be and how much of him you can take.
content || mature, minors do not interact. female reader, possessiveness. explicit smut — rough sex, unprotected sex, fingering, deepthroating, manhandling, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, passing out.
word count || 3k
author's note || for @underworldnet's halloween event — day two : full moon.
You’ve had enough of this.
Jisung is never the type to avoid you. Especially when you’ve been dating for so long.
It reminds you of the times before he became your boyfriend, when he was so nervous to even be around you.
And the time after you started dating when you realised he was hiding something from you the whole time.
And when you found out he’s a werewolf. You thought there’d be nothing more to be kept between you after learning his deepest secret.
But now he’s gone so far as to avoid coming to classes so he doesn’t see you.
Communication is key, you always say to him. I always want to know what you’re feeling.
And he agrees with you despite it being difficult for him to do so.
Yet, here you are clicking on Jisung’s contact again and again just to see that he’s still ignoring your messages. For the last three days, Jisung’s been leaving your texts on read and at the same time, he’s ignoring your calls.
When you asked Renjun, he said Jisung is simply unwell. But Jisung always answers your calls when he’s sick because, as he likes too say, your voice speeds up his recovery.
It certainly didn’t settle your doubts when the others — Jaemin and Haechan — shared weird glances between that made you sure something else was and is at hand.
And that’s why, at the turn of the evening when you’re done with your classes and studying, you march your way to his house.
You’re tempted to turn back at the door. Surely, something is being hidden from you and there must be a reason for it. Are you really sure you want to find out?
Even if it’s something bad?
No, you chide yourself in your mind. Jisung would never betray me.
You look up to the glowing full moon for comfort. It’s warm yellow embraces you and you feel a stir of confidence.
There’s movement inside seconds after knocking on the door to his house. He shares it with his friends — Renjun, Jeno, Jaemin, Haechan, Chenle and Mark, who opens the door.
“YN!” he exclaims, eyes flashing wide for a second. “What are you doing here?”
You notice he’s hiding behind the door, eyes scouring the darkened sky for scattered clouds.
You let yourself inside quickly after realising he’s hiding from the moon. But Mark is a little bit hesitant about your presence.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here,” he says. “Jisung’s not well.”
“Then let me see him,” you step in further and he has no choice but to shut the door. “He hasn’t answered my calls.”
The house is doused in darkness. Blackout curtains cover the windows from floor to ceiling; the only light comes from dimmed lamps.
It’s not as loud as it usually is and you figure the others must be out with the full moon, leaving just Mark and Jisung at home.
“You guys aren’t turning this month?” you ask him.
Mark shakes his head, content with stalling you in the hallway. “The others left yesterday but I stayed to look after Jisung.”
“What’s wrong with him?” you ask. Mark’s mouth opens, but he closes it again, fuelling your suspicions. “I’m going to find out, even if you don’t tell me, Mark. What is he hiding? Is it someone else?”
“What? No!” Mark shouts. “I promise you, there is no way that’s the case. He’s just sick. That’s all.”
“Then why is he avoiding my calls?”
You storm up the stairs like it’s your own home, which Jisung and many of the others had asked you to treat it like so, but Mark’s hand around your wrist stops you as you make it to Jisung’s closed door.
“YN, please,” Mark pants. “I can’t let you in there.”
“Why not?”
“He… he asked us not to let you see him. Not like this.”
“Is… is it that bad?” your eyes threaten to tear up at the thought of him being so sick but you want to see him regardless. You need to know the truth.
But before you can say anything else, Jisung’s door swings open.
His tall figure hunches over, hands gripping the door frame to hold himself upright.
“J–Jisung…?”
He pants heavily; small rumbles erupt from his chest and your body begins to shake. Mark pulls you back little by little and you use what little light there is in the house to take in the sight of Jisung.
He’s sweating from head to toe, hair clumped and hanging over his forehead and his entire body trembles, like he’s in pain from the sight of you.
“Get your hand off her…” he growls. Although his voice is quiet, strained even, the aggression in it is enough to make both you and Mark shiver.
“Jisung,” Mark warns, pulling you behind him. “I’ll take her, okay? Just go back in your room and I’ll get her out of here.”
“I said… get your hands off her.”
Your shielded by Mark’s back so you can’t see the animosity in his eyes, but you can feel it. Tensed and worried, you peek over Mark to look at your boyfriend.
What could he possibly be sick with?
Excessive sweating, heavy panting, trembling limbs…and possessiveness.
Those are all signs of his rut, which you’ve been through with him before, but they’ve never been so extreme.
His rut was always something special to share together and you’re no stranger to letting him have his way with you until he’s satisfied.
But right now, he’s a completely different person.
Like he’s lost all control.
Jisung trudges towards Mark with dark eyes and a dark aura all around him.
“Jisung…” Mark warns again. “Go back in your room.”
“Give her to me.”
“…No.”
For a moment, it’s silent enough to hear a pin drop. You don’t even breathe, to afraid to set off whatever has control over Jisung.
“YN, you need to leave.”
“But—”
“No buts. He told us to not let you see him. I shouldn’t have let you in, I’m sorry.”
“Is it his rut?”
Mark nods slowly, edging you towards the stairs. “He’s never had it with a full moon before.”
He doesn’t have time to explain but you figure the full moon somehow amplifies the effect of a werewolf’s rut. And especially when Jisung has a hard time turning, you can’t imagine the extent of pain he’s having with this rut whilst stuck in his human body.
He claws at his chest, whining deeply.
“YN, please!” he cries. His grating voice is so desperate, enough to make you freeze on the spot. Mark tries to push you again but you fight against him.
“Let me help him.”
“Hell no!” Mark looks to you, and for a split second you see a primal glare in Jisung’s eyes, like he’s ready to pounce on Mark and tear him apart before he does the same to you.
“I’ve done it before, I can help him, Mark.”
“I know, YN. But it’s different this time. He could hurt you.”
“He won’t,” you state. But looking at him, you’re not convinced either.
“It’s not a good idea,” Mark warns in a singsong tone as Jisung finally grounds himself and stalks towards you. “This is your last chance to leave before someone gets hurt.”
You gulp, meeting the eyes of your boyfriend. He’s hungry.
Really hungry.
“It’s fine. I can take him.”
Mark is about to spin around and hit you with a “are you freaking insane?” but you push him away.
What hurts more is seeing Jisung like this.
You’ve helped him every time he feels this pain, so why stop now? You’re his girlfriend, after all. You know he’d stop at nothing to help you when you needed it most.
Jisung latches onto you the second there is distance between you and Mark and you realise that even in this state, Jisung was still afraid of Mark. They all were. You never saw that side of Mark but you were sure it was something werewolves could only tell between themselves, that Mark had the most power and authority.
And that means if he tries to stop you again, Jisung will truly have to back down and suffer alone.
“It’s okay, Mark,” you convince him. “I’ll be okay.”
Jisung’s arms hold you tight to him, you can already feel his bulging cock rubbing against your hips. His head is in your neck rubbing all over your skin, inhaling your aroma whilst leaving his own scent behind.
Your cheeks burn and you avoid Mark’s eyes as he finally gives in.
“You still have that necklace?” he asks as one last reassurance.
You nod, and when he sighs in both relief and defeat you push Jisung’s hot, heavy body back into his room letting your back close the door.
Jisung drives you up it immediately, grinding his hips into your crotch and one of your legs wrap around his waist while the other holds your balance in this awkward position. Though, Jisung’s inhuman strength does a better job of holding you up.
You gasp as he bites your neck and you’re afraid he might tear a chunk off. But he soothes your worries by licking over the sore spot before moving onto the next.
“Need you,” he’s muttering. “Need you, YN. I need you so bad.”
“I’m here, Sungie,” you whisper in a high–pitched voice, the voice he loves so much. “I’m right here.”
He hoists you up further while making sure your clothed cunt is pressed right against him. You can feel the wetness growing.
You know he loves having your arousal on him so you roll your hips to ensure he gets his share. You grind harder until you can feel the fabric cling to your pussy and he groans loudly when he realises what you’ve done.
“Sungie, ah!” you cry. “I’m gonna cum!”
He doesn’t register your words and continues his movements, only harder and rougher and you’re sure the door will break through from how hard and fast he’s rutting against your clothed body.
You can’t hold it in anymore. the friction is too much and you feel your orgasm rush over you. From the way Jisung stutters, you realise he came with you. But he’s far from finished.
Before you know it, he’s thrown you on the bed and he’s tearing off his own clothes. While he takes a short moment of not looking at you, you take the chance to grab the necklace from your pocket.
It’s in a velvet pouch for extra protection; the last thing you want is to accidentally hurt Jisung or the others with it. You crawl up the bed and quickly slip it under the pillow before he can realise.
He gifted you it the first time you helped him with his rut. A plain silver chain necklace. You never wear it, simply keeping it in your pocket or bag as a precaution.
You know he’d never hurt you but he felt comforted knowing you’d use it for protection if he or the others ever tried to hurt you.
You’re not planning on using it, but given his state, it’s good to have measures in place.
He’s none the wiser as he pulls your ankle and tears away your pants and shirt. His lips latch onto the skin of your belly, devouring the flesh like it’s his last meal.
You fumble with your bra while he rips off your panties and you’re both fully naked.
His entire body is flushed, shaking with desperation. In the dim light, you take a moment to admire his incredible body and your eyes drift down to his cock. The sheer size of it always makes your heart pump ten times harder.
It’s covered in his cum from the previous orgasm and he’s immediately poking at your entrance with the tip of his cock.
Your feet hit his abs as soon as he tries to push in.
“Fingers first, Jisung,” you cry. “Fingers first!”
You’re not used to going straight in; Jisung always eases you slowly by fingering first but he must be so out of his mind to have forgotten.
“I need to be inside you, YN.” He growls.
His fingers are like long claws, stretched and ready to dig into your flesh. You’re supposed to make him feel better but he seems like he’s getting worse.
The closer he comes to having you, the more impatient he grows.
You dart up immediately, dropping to the floor so your back rests against the bed and you take him in your mouth.
You spend no time playing around and edge him in as quickly as you can. His cock is hitting the back of your throat and his hand roots itself in your hair.
Everything becomes a blur as he thrusts into you.
Your hands on his thighs do nothing to slow him down so you squeeze your eyes shut and let him have his way. Meanwhile, you spread your legs and slowly slip two fingers into your leaking hole.
You can barely breathe, let alone moan but the feeling of your sopping cunt has your eyes rolling back.
There’s just something about how animalistic it feels that thrills you.
You push your fingers in an out, focusing on easing your muscles so you can handle Jisung after, and he finishes quickly. His cum spills down your throat and he keeps thrusting, your head hitting the mattress again and again and even when he pulls out, his cum spurts onto your naked body.
You let it dribble down your skin as you stand on shaky limbs. Jisung pushes you flat against the mattress and lines his raging cock with your pussy.
“I missed you,” he growls into a kiss. “I missed you so much.”
“Missed you too, Sungie,” you whine. “I was so worried.”
His cock enters you and you gasp, legs flying in the air without warning. He takes your hand and shoves your fingers in his mouth, licking every drop of your arousal from them.
A groan erupts from deep in your gut.
His animalistic tendencies shouldn’t be so riveting but he still has a hold on you.
When he’s done with your fingers, he yanks your hair back from behind, exposing your neck to him perfectly.
He litters your skin with bites, harsh and painful bites.
But he blesses each one of them with a hungry kiss, lips breaking apart for his tongue to lick over with care, as if each one is an apology for hurting you.
He licks a stripe up the length of your neck. And then another. And another.
You squeal from the sensation, unsure whether you like it or not but the way your pussy quivers around his cock tells you the answer.
You have no qualms with him scenting you, but this is entirely new.
And you’re sure the others will be keeping their distance from you for a very long time.
“Jisung!”
He grabs your hands and pins them down before slamming into you. Then he’s forcing your leg onto his shoulder, opening you up in ways he’s never done before, exploring and reaching deeper than he’s ever tried.
He pounds into you without a care. The mix of his cum and your arousal spreads on both of you and the noises it makes when he slams in and out drives you insane.
Jisung cums again, hips slowing for just a moment before he flips you over. You can’t keep yourself up by your legs but he holds your hips up at the perfect level.
And when he’s done with you like that, he holds you in another position. He orders you and pushes you with such meanness, but kisses and holds you with tenderness.
And before long, you’re on your back again, cupping his face while he batters his cock into you with such fierceness and hunger in the same position you started in.
You know it’s his favourite. He loves seeing your face.
Little by little, you’re edged up the bed with his thrusts to the point where you hold your hands up against the headboard so you don’t crash into it.
“Fuck! Jisung!” your cry is long and loud — surely the entire neighbourhood could hear you.
He keeps going, hard and fast and even when he feels your walls clenching incredibly tight around him, even when he feels his own cock twitching and leaking cum inside you, he doesn’t stop.
You don’t know how long he goes on for and you lost count of how many times you orgasmed. In the end, they all begin to blur into one as your body becomes numb with an overload of sensations.
The cries escaping from your throat make it sore; your voice turns raspy but he keeps going.
Your limbs lose their hold and you become a mindless doll simply for him to use until he’s satisfied.
But tonight, he’s completely insatiable.
With the little energy you have after hours of relentless fucking, you sneak your hand under the pillow. The pouch is still there and you fiddle with it for a second, attempting to reveal the silver necklace.
But something comes over you.
Maybe an epiphany.
Maybe another orgasm.
Whatever it is, your hand retracts from the necklace and reaches into Jisung’s soaked hair.
Little by little, he regains his sanity as he empties load after load inside you. The immense pleasure comes and fades away, bringing him back to reality and his expression isn’t so fierce anymore.
He’s getting better. He just needs to work himself to exhaustion and hopefully he’ll be finished at last.
His entire body is covered in heaps of sweat and you give him one last kiss before you allow fatigue to take over your body.
You’re covered in bruises and engulfed in soreness, whilst at the same time, you struggle to feel anything but his beating heart.
He’s taken over you completely.
“You’re mine,” he whispers as you drift away. “You’re mine.”
#✧ jella writes#✧ jella's fics#underworldnet halloween writing event#nct x reader#jisung park#nct jisung x reader#nct dream x reader#nct smut#nct dream smut#nct jisung smut
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Prompt 5 - Bookshop AU
@wolfstarmicrofic April 5, word count 748
Sirius loved working in the bookshop. The Potter’s had asked if he would take over running it when they retired, as James was taking over the rest of the Potter’s substantial enterprise. But the bookshop was special, and they knew how much Sirius loved it.
It had been the first place he’d ever worked. Effie had given him the Saturday job when he’d first moved in with them. He hadn’t wanted to keep asking them for money for things, so that had been Effie's way of giving him money without making him feel bad.
He loved the smell of the place. Not only did they sell the new releases, but they also had a rare book section that Sirius sometimes just went to hide in.
It was on one of these occasions that he came across a tall, lanky man wearing a truly horrendous jumper. It looked like something out of the ’70s, and judging by the threadbare cuffs, it might actually have come from that era.
He was so engrossed in the book in his hands that he didn’t notice Sirius at first. Sirius tried to carefully back away so his customer could browse without interruption. But his movement must have alerted the man to his presence as he looked up straight into Sirius’s eyes. And Sirius felt his stomach flip.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you.” He smiled apologetically at the man before him. “I can do a good deal on that one for you.” He gestured to the book in the man’s hands. “
“Oh, no… I can’t afford any of these books.” He blushed. “I just like looking at them. Choosing which ones I’d buy if I had the money. Plus the smell of them—it probably sounds silly, but I find it soothing.”
“This is my favourite aisle. Always come down here for at least five minutes before I go home. It’s the, er, smell for me too. I don’t know what it is, but all my troubles just seem to melt away…” Sirius stopped talking before he embarrassed himself further. The man carefully replaced the yellowing book on the shelf and straightened.
He didn’t know why, but Sirius wasn’t ready to say goodbye to this odd man. “You can come by and read as many of those books as you like. As long as you’re careful with them.” Normally, he would never let anyone actually sit and read, but he couldn’t help himself.
“Oh, are you sure? That’s incredibly kind of you. Er…”
“Sirius.” Sirius offered. The man smiled at him.
“Remus.”
Everyday after that, Remus came in and spent a couple of hours in the rare books section. Thankfully, he treated the books as though they could fall apart at any moment. Sometimes, he’d bring Sirius a coffee. Other times, they’d share a sandwich. Sirius got used to seeing Remus every day and felt the huge amount of disappointment when, after over a month, Remus didn’t come.
He wondered if he’d done something wrong. Sirius sat in the shop an hour after closing time. Just in case Remus turned up.
When the clock passed six, he gave up. He gathered his belongings and locked up. He turned to head home when he heard the sound of pounding feet on the pavement. He looked behind him, and a very dishevelled-looking Remus was running towards him.
“Oh my god! What happened to you?” He asked, worried about the state Remus was in.
“I’m so sorry I’m late. Some awful person stole my bag on the tube, and it had everything in it. My phone, my wallet, even my keys. I had to walk here because I didn't have any money for the train.”
“You had all that going on, and you still came to the bookshop? Are you mad?” Sirius asked, baffled by Remus’s choices.
“ No, I didn’t come all this way with only the clothes on my back to come to the bloody bookshop. I came to see you, you idiot!” Remus blurted out, exasperated. “Sirius, I don’t come into the shop everyday just to look at books.”
Something clicked in Sirius’s brain. Oh, he thought. He closed the gap between him and Remus and pressed a kiss to his lips. They parted, smiling dopily at each other.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get something warm in you. Takeaway? My treat.” Sirius took his hand and pulled him in the direction of his flat.
“Yeah, okay then,” Remus replied as he followed Sirius home.
#wolfstar#wolfstar microfic#wolfstar au#wolfstar fluff#sirius black#remus lupin#sirius orion black#remus john lupin#sirius x remus#remus x sirius#sirius and remus#remus and sirius#effie potter#monty potter#james potter#bookshop AU
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You Can Always Learn
Ominis Gaunt x Reader
Summary - Anon request for "How about a private moment or two where Ominis says he doesn't understand the point in trying to dance since he can't see it anyway. So you decide to help him by getting as close as possible and having him follow your movements with his hands on your body as you move"
Word Count - 832
Warnings - none
The Yule ball was coming up and it gave Ominis a pit in his stomach. You deserved to go and enjoy the once in a lifetime opportunity. Not only would he not be able to appreciate your efforts into your appearance, but he feared he wouldn't be able to properly dance with you either.
He had been telling Sebastian to take you in his stead. He didn't want to embarrass you or himself, but he didn't think he could handle knowing Sebastian was taking his place all night.
That's how you found him in the Undercroft. He looked sad and distant.
You thought you could cheer him up by telling about the dress clothes shopping you had gotten done in Hogsmeade. You were so excited to describe everything you tried on to him, but your real selection you were planning on keeping a secret.
You took a seat next to him and grabbed his hands excitedly, "Ominis there were so many beautiful options. I looked really silly in the really extravagant ones. Surprisingly bright mustard yellow and ornate lace isn't for me," you teased. You frowned at the small smile he threw at you.
"What's wrong? I don't want to talk about myself while you're sad."
He sighed deeply and dropped his chin to his chest, "I don't know if I can go to the ball with you." His voice was soft and melancholy. It made your feel like it was about to break.
"What? What are you talking about?"
He turned his gaze to you and cupped your cheek, "Y/N. I won't be able to give the experience you deserve. You'll be stuck on the sidelines all night because of me. You deserve a spotlight in the middle of the floor."
You raised your eyebrows at him, placing your hand of his, "Ominis, is this because there's the coordinated dancing? I don't care about any of that. It wouldn't mean anything to be there without you."
"I don't want to be embarrassment. And I want you to shine like you always do wherever you go. Even if it's not dressed in yellow." You laughed at his sheepish expression.
"You could never embarrass me more than I already embarrass myself on a daily basis. I don't expect you to do anything you don't want to, including dancing if you're too nervous. But if you want to try we can practice down here."
For a moment he looked at you terrified, "I - I don't want you to see me looking stupid."
"Ominis. You won't look any worse than any of the other boys stepping on the professor's toes even as they stare right at them."
"Well, I would like to think that if I could see then that wouldn't happen."
"Then you're already the strides ahead of them all since you actually care."
You tugged at his arms to pull him up, "Come on, I'm not gonna make fun of you. I want to teach you so you can wipe that grim look off of your face. You're too pretty it doesn't suit you." You pinched his cheek and grinned at him turning pink.
You led him to an area of the room that had the most open space.
"Okay, so if you want to put both of your hands on my hips to help feel the movement that's okay. I think your hands are the easiest part to figure out later."
He grabbed you firmly where your hips met your thigh, rubbing gentle circle with his thumb as he pulled you much closer. The proximity and determined look on his face took your breath away.
You bite your lip and tell him you love him which makes him smile.
"I'm not a professional here, but I've watched everyone else so I think I have a good enough idea to teach you. I'll start out really slow and count for you, so if you can try to follow where my foot is going, maybe by keeping your toes on mine you can feel the directions."
He nodded, looking down completely focused. You started to count, with no particular rhythm, but to help him get the hang of the movements themselves.
You were surprised at how easy he seemed to pick it up, how natural it felt with him. It was way better than the practice partner you had been stuck with. You started to count and hum the music between steps, easing in to a comfortable loop with Ominis.
You had kept your eyes on the steps, hyper-focused on making sure you were doing it correctly yourself until you looked up and saw a peaceful expression on his face.
He leaned his forehead into yours and place met your lips in a tender kiss. He massaged his fingers into our hips while he slid his other hand up your side and down your arm before pulling your hand off of his shoulder into into his own.
"Maybe this won't be so bad."
#ominis guant#ominis#ominis x reader#ominis gaunt x reader#ominis x mc#ominis gaunt x mc#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy x reader#hogwarts legacy x mc
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Happy Valentines Day!
Transcript:
"Isn't it beautiful out here?"
Scarab had dragged Prismo outside, far away from home. Many storage cubes full of different sampling equipment sat bunched in Prismo's floating blanket, test tubes and containers, stuff Prismo can't identify by just looking at it sat in those cubes.
"'Suppose so."
Prismo sounded a little bored, but he's seen quite a few of these fields in his very long lifetime. Seen one, you've seen them all.
A huge, sprawling flower field. Prismo can't identify a single flower here, even if he tried. Which, to be fair, he won't try.
The field was colorful, blindingly so. Yellows, reds, blues, golds. Blobs of every shade of green, sprouting out tall where the flowers hadn't invaded. It reached farther than Prismo's eyesight could render.
Scarab dragged him by the (covered) hand out into it. He mumbles different scientific proposals, things he wants to show to the rest of Wizard City.
Nerd stuff.
Prismo only hears the excited tone of his voice and focuses on that. He quickly fell in more toward Scarab's behavior than what he's actually talking about, finding all the little things he recognizes. Prismo leans on the blanket ball, nodding along like he's listening.
Scarab talks with his hands. Scarab trills and clicks. Scarab watches the ground so he doesn't step on too many flowers at a time.
Prismo gets so distracted that he hadn't realized that Scarab had dropped Prismo's hand, instead actively trying to tug the blanket out from under Prismo.
Prismo lets go of the blanket immediately, stammering out a small excuse.
"You spaced out, didn't you?" Scarab trilled, cutting through his needless excuse. He gently takes the blanket from him, and he spreads it out on the ground.
"Uh, yeah. Sorry." Prismo plays with his turban in his own habit, a nervous tic. Scarab moves each cube to be stacked up all nice and neat, taking out what he needs.
Prismo went to his side immediately, curling into him. His turban was pressed into his back with his legs slung over Scarab's hips, his hands occupying themselves by playing with Scarab's jutting spikes around his chest.
Scarab collected samples despite his limited range of movement, gentle with each flower as he plucked out their pedals and cut stems.
Prismo was instructed to hold things occasionally, pick flowers, go get dirt from the side of that hill over there. He carried them out without much thought, too distracted by watching Scarab at work.
He sat cross legged, stuffing flower petals in some book to dry. Gentle as he turns bleeding stems upside down over a vial and then corking it closed. He whips around excitedly to Prismo, showing him the vial.
"I've never seen this before, look!" He got up with a few creaks and pops in his knees and hips, walking quickly to Prismo despite the clicks coming from his knees.
To Prismo, it looked like strawberry jam, as it was bright red with chunks of what looks like seeds. He was far more concerned with Scarab's joints popping like they did.
Scarab was rattling off all of his observations, how the liquid was thick and he thought it was because it was a carnivorous plant, evidenced by the dead flies in the bottom of the plant.
Prismo nodded while leading him back over to the blanket, his hand wrapped around Scarab's waist. He knew that Scarab would start hurting soon, based on the sounds of protest his legs were making.
Scarab knew it too, little etches of pain seeping into his voice as he rambled.
He walked to the blanket and that's as far as he made it, unable to lower himself down.
When Scarab was in pain, it made bending his knees extremely painful, but standing up straight hurt worse. Prismo looked so concerned, petting his waist in circles, nosing into his neck.
"Y-You can help by lowering me down, Prismo." Scarab knew what he was thinking, holding the backside of the clothed hand on his waist.
"Tell me if I hurt you." Prismo braced himself on Scarab's back, holding him firmly. Slowly, carefully, lovingly, Prismo lowered Scarab to the ground, adjusting the position or moved faster based on Scarab's groans and clicks. The flowers folded underneath Scarab, snapping with loud cracks, bleeding stems soaking the blanket.
Prismo moved out from under him, receiving an upset trill. "What's wrong?" He cupped his mask and Scarab pressed hard into it.
"Can you..put your knee under my back and your arm under my head?" He quietly requested, reaching up and holding the hand on his mask.
Prismo whispered delicate affirmations, doing as Scarab said. A mellow chitter left him in pleasure, his pain relieved just a little bit. Prismo thumbed his chest, nosing back into his neck. A mumbled "thank you" left Scarab, who sighed with relief when Prismo's hand shifted to caress Scarab's sore knees.
"I'm sorry our outing was cut short…I didn't mean to get up that quickly." He whispered, shifting his hands to rest over his stomach.
"Mmm..we're still out, aren't we?" Prismo grinned, huffing a giggle against Scarab's cold chitin. "Don't apologize. You were excited, it was cute."
"Ah. Don't call me cute.." Scarab turned his head away, Prismo knows he's not upset. Under his mask, he was sure he was burning up.
"Hush. I like calling you it." He said. "I call it like I see it."
Though, Scarab chattered in pain when Prismo shifted to hold him closer, Prismo frowning and shushing him. "I-I'm sorry–"
Prismo shushed him louder. "Don't apologize. I know you can't help it, and I don't mind holding you through it."
"You don't have to, though."
"I want to. Gives me an excuse to cuddle."
"Like you need an excuse.”
#carmen dreams au#fionna and cake#fanart#adventure time#prismo#adventure time fionna and cake#prismo the wishmaster#prohibited wish#prohibitedwish#the scarab
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shotgunning a cigarette with john wick (especially young jardani) is all i can think abt right now
John's breath is visible in the cold of the night, the stink of the city rising from the gutters in the alley. You take a deep drag from the cigarette he passed you earlier. It fills your lungs with welcomed smog, and you exhale before your lungs can protest the chemicals being held for too long. Neither of you speak as the smoke dances in the air between you two. You don't need to. This little routine of yours has been suiting you both quite nicely without many words so far.
You look out into the starless night, tapping the cigarette off to the side before passing it back to John without looking. You think about how different things are for people like you. How much your feet ache despite leaning against the brick wall for support. Your ruined toes from the strict ballet routines, the callouses on your hands matching the blisters on blisters.
You don't want to think about what they teach John. You know he's due for his first true mission soon, you're both beginning to be old enough to truly start being of value to the 'family's' business.
You don't notice John's sharp eyes caressing your features. You only glance over when your thoughts drift away, and the craving for another hit of the cigarette hits. You catch his stare, and he doesn't look away, he isn't one to be embarrassed about something like that. You wonder for a moment how long he's been eyeing you, but ignore it, and reach a hand out towards that little fire John holds in his hand between you. He pulls it back, not cruely, but as if he must.
This surprises you, but you don't know what to say. John speaks for the first time tonight.
"I'm headed off tomorrow night." he says it plainly, no deeper explaining, but you know what this means. He is going out to kill for the first time, for real, not the sparing he does with the other boys. No, he will use the sharpened skills he's learned, or he won't be back. You say nothing, but you give a small, short nod of understanding, and one of your hands reaches to smooth the white, fluffy tuelle of your ballet dress. John continues.
"I want to try something with you, if you'll let me..." He isn't nervous when he speaks. He says everything so plainly, but right now you know whatever he is suggesting is important to him, so you turn towards him fully. You look deep into those brown eyes, practically as black as the night sky above right now, only a small overhead yellowing light on the side of the building casting a glow on both of you. He sees your willingness to listen, and the space between the two of you closes so slowly, you hardly notice John is even moving towards you. He is truly, stealthy.
"Stop me if this displeases you..." His voice has softened, just barely, the words ebbing upwards with the frost of his breath. You know he means it when he says that, you trust that he would never do something to displease you to begin with, but your heart picks up as he moves closer. He brings that glowing ember back to his lips and takes a deep drag, tendrils of smoke escaping his mouth as he pulls the cigarette away at last.
He closes the gap between you until he is leaning down, his height having always been there, suddenly more noticeable. John hasn't released the smoke from his lungs, not yet. He's savoring the moment. His hand is warm when it touches your waist, bringing you in until your lips are brushing his, both of you open and waiting for the other. You give a small movement towards him for the first time since this started, and that's all he needs.
John presses lips into yours with a hunger, a need barely kept at bay, still restrained. He is well trained, indeed. He kisses you, moving gently in sync with your lips, and you respond perfectly in time. You are also trained, synchronicity coming easy to a ballerina like you.
John's lungs must be aching by now, but the kiss goes on, one of his large hands reaching up to place a thumb against the base of your neck, feeling you there, and then wrapping so gently to crook you deeper into him. You feel a moan bubble up from the gesture, and feel as if you are but a swan in wolf's teeth. John bites your lower lip gently, pulling it down and asking you to open. You oblige, and he softly breathes the smoke he has been holding into your awaiting lungs.
You take it hungrily, softly sucking in to meet what has been contained inside him. You feel as if more than just smoke has entered your body. You can feel a piece of John, as if he is giving you some small part of him. As if to say, 'if I don't make it back, remember this part of me, the part that didn't kill. The part that breathed life into another. Carry it with you.' Your cheeks burn in the cold as your lungs fill to the brim and the rest over flows and descends upwards into the night.
John seals the breath he's given you with a final, passionate kiss. It's as if he's stamped your petal like lips with a flame that wasn't supposed to grow there. When his lips pull away, leaving heavy breaths and even heavier lids looking, searching deeply into one another, you can't help but feel like John has lit a coalfire in the pit of your stomach. From the look he's giving you, you can tell he feels the same, maybe even better knowing what he's done to you, how he's tainted you before he must take his leave.
"John..." His name drifts from your lips onto his, and he stops you with the brush of another kiss.
"We should go back inside..." He hasn't taken his eyes off you, you're still so close it hurts. You know he's right, but this moment is intimacy that neither of you have every been allowed here, in this place that teaches only death. You search him, a hand you didn't notice is gripping his shirt. You hold that fabric tightly, and your knuckles shake when your mind thinks to let go.
"I know..." John says simply, and you know he does. "Meet me here again, in a days time, as we usually do."
"But..." You begin, not able to bring yourself to the 'what if' of no one being here when you come.
"I would not allow myself to let you down. You know that." And you do. John will do everything in his power to make sure your little ritual out here is unbroken. You know he will come back. He must. Your grip loosens, and you two part. You both go back to your comfortable silence, and head inside.
The heat of John's lips and hand around your throat hold you through out that night. You dream of a wolf who takes you gently in it's teeth. It doesn't let go.
Next part here!
#john wick x reader#young!john wick x reader#jardani jovonovich#john wick x you#john wick drabble#john wick fanfic#my writing#ask lila#••• ◛ ʸᵒᵘ’ᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵐᵃⁱˡ!#keanu reeves x you#keanu reeves x reader#keanu reeves
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Jamie’s afraid of making a big deal out of being hurt after everything that happened in season 1 - he doesn’t want everyone to think he’s being a prick again. But then one day either in season 2 or 3 he actually is genuinely hurt badly (the reason is up to you) but doesn’t tell anyone and shows up to practice anyway. It’s bad enough that he collapses on the field and that’s when everyone finds out.
I could have made this so much easier on myself and literally just written the conversation at the end. As it is, I started hating this about a third of the way through.
I hope that's just hyper-criticism of my own work and that this is still an enjoyable request fill.
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It wasn’t like he’d done it on purpose.
A lack of sleep, a dark hallway, and a half-forgotten set of steps had all converged into a little tumble in the middle of the night. That was all.
A bruised side. A knock on the head. No big deal.
That’s what Jamie had told himself as he’d inspected the damage in the mirror. He would be fine. He could put his kit on at home and wear a beanie to cover up the dark smudge of skin at his temple.
No one would notice. No one needed to know. It would be fine. Hardly the first time he’d pushed through an injury to stay in the game, was it?
He didn’t need to miss training. He didn’t need to turn up at Nelson Road and tell Ted he couldn’t play. Just the thought of trying to do so sent a thrill of unease through Jamie that he wasn’t keen to examine too closely.
So he took some ibuprofen, slowly and stiffly got changed into his Richmond gear, and called a taxi to get himself to the training ground late enough that no one had time to question his appearance.
(Driving was out of the question. He could admit that.)
Roy all but sneered at him when he stumbled in - that wasn’t anything to write home about, though. He caught a few looks from the others and had to wave Dani off on their way out to the pitch but, otherwise, Jamie was able to keep his head down and not draw attention to himself.
Drills were awful. Just stretching out his legs had him biting his tongue against making any pained sounds. When they started lunging, the hot-sick pain in his side necessitated swallowing down bile.
Sprints weren’t the worst, though Isaac definitely noticed he wasn’t starting from a crouch as he normally would. Then Nate had them doing a coordination exercise, hopping sideways and throwing balls between each other.
Lifting his arms was bad enough. Then each hop jolted Jamie’s whole body and made his head throb.
He managed, somehow, but Jamie wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He was being slow and clumsy. He was being useless. Fuck.
Panting, sweating, and trying not to throw up, he hovered at the back of the group and prayed no one called him out. No such luck.
“You alright, mate?” Colin had sidled over while Ted called out their scrimmage teams. He was speaking quietly, which Jamie appreciated, but frowned at him with an unusual level of seriousness. Shit.
“Course I am.” Jamie forced himself to straighten up and smile. It felt wrong on his face. Too many teeth. “Just got a stitch. Didn’t drink enough.”
Colin looked doubtful, like he was about to question him further, but Jamie pushed forward to accept his yellow vest from Beard and positioned himself as far away from the Welshman as he could.
He was careful to stay in the formation they were practising, though. No sense in fucking up training for everyone more than he already had.
Roy hollered “WHISTLE!” from the side of the pitch and everyone lurched into action. Running around wasn’t so bad and Jamie soon lost himself in the game, following the movement of the ball and players with a preternatural instinct, ignoring any pain as the inconvenient distraction it was.
The few times the ball came his way, he took control of it as if by second nature, barely having to tell his feet what to do as he passed to Dani, then to Sam ten minutes later.
He was being a good teammate. He was playing like he was supposed to. And then he heard someone shout his name.
Jamie didn't need to look around to know that the ball would be sailing through the air towards him. He didn't need to deliberate about what to do. He would catch the ball on his chest and send it to Sam again before Richard could make it close enough to tackle. It was the only option to get it in the net.
He didn't need to think about it. He just did it.
And his sore, battered ribs only crossed his mind when he jumped up and twisted mid-air.
The yelp of pain was completely involuntary and Jamie would have been horrendously embarrassed by it if he hadn’t immediately crumpled into a heap on the pitch.
Something had grinded in his torso. It fucking hurt. It felt wrong.
He distantly registered the sound of an actual whistle over the rushing white noise in his ears as he lay gasping on the damp grass. A hand grasped his arm and Jamie realised Richard had skidded to his knees beside him, ball forgotten.
“Jamie? What’s wrong?” More hands were on him, trying to turn him over, but the slight pull sent another wave of sick pain through his side and he keened, curling up further to stave off the harm. “Merde, get the medics.”
“Colin’s already gone.” That was Isaac, a lot closer than he’d been less than five minutes ago, defending the box on the other end of the pitch. “He’ll need a stretcher if we can’t move him ourselves.”
“Fuck.” The notion of needing to be carried out of training brought Jamie back to himself. “I don’t need… Fuck it. I’m fine.”
“No, you are not.” Sam was standing over him as well, Jamie realised as he tried to force himself up to his knees at least. Most of the team were looming around, actually, and Ted broke through their little huddle right as a spike in pain brought up the vomit Jamie had been desperately holding back all morning.
“Hoo boy.” An American accent could really cut through the crowd, apparently, since Jamie had no problem hearing that low exclamation over twenty or so sounds of disgust.
Someone stopped him from pitching forward into his own sick and Jamie finally, limply, accepted help back upright onto his own shaky legs. Ted’s hands were one of the several pairs supporting him and Jamie could feel the humiliation and shame rising up in his gut like another bout of nausea.
“Sorry, coach,” he mumbled, even as he let Isaac put a secure arm around his waist. Sam tried to prop up his other side but Jamie shied away with an apologetic shake of the head. “Ribs. Don’t- Can’t lift me arm right now.”
He silently begged the younger player to understand, to not take it as yet another personal slight. Because Sam Obisanya was a much better person than Jamie would ever be, he only took a firm hold of Jamie’s elbow instead, face belying nothing but concern.
“Okay, folks, let’s give him some room.” Ted shooed gently at everyone not currently vital to keeping Jamie vertical. “You fellas got a good hold of him? We can get a stretcher out here, tout sweet.”
“Don’t want a fucking stretcher. I can walk.” Jamie bit out, choosing not to acknowledge how heavily he was still leaning on Isaac and Sam.
“Well, son, I’m not all too keen on taking your word for that right now.”
Ted’s tone didn’t change at all from the pleasant, practical way he’d just addressed the others. He didn’t raise his voice even a little. Jamie still felt the admonishment like a physical blow and hung his head with a wince.
“We’ve got him,” Sam spoke up. “Treatment room, right?”
They made an awkward threesome, hobbling off the pitch behind Ted and down the tunnel. Colin jogged out to meet them with a medic in tow and (surprise, surprise) Roy peeled off from the other coaches to join the entourage hustling Jamie towards the now-not-haunted medical suite.
Settled uncomfortably on the edge of the reclining bed, with a hovering audience whose eyes he couldn’t meet if he tried, Jamie numbly answered the medic’s questions about his pain level and location. He allowed her to gently remove his hat and examine the bruise underneath, went through the concussion tests without complaint, and was even honest about when he’d last eaten or drank anything.
When she pulled up his shirt, there was more than one sympathetic wince around the room. A quick look down confirmed that the bruise, though still quite small, had deepened in colour since he’d last poked at it and his skin looked oddly swollen around the area.
Even the barest methodical prodding with careful fingers made Jamie flinch and hiss through his teeth. The medic (Jennifer, Jamie vaguely recalled) hummed thoughtfully.
“Two are definitely broken. You’ll need to stay off the pitch for a few weeks, at least.”
The prognosis tightened Jamie’s throat like a hand was clamped around his neck.
“Weeks? Nah, fuck that,” he choked out. “I were playing fine until I took the chest ball. I can still score.”
“Are you actually thick?” Roy demanded, loud and angry as per usual. There was something wild in his expression as he stepped closer to the bed. “How fucking stupid do you have to be to try and play with broken fucking ribs.”
“Fuck off, you won’t even coach me,” Jamie snarled at him, all attempts at mending bridges forgotten in the wake of pain and frustration. “Don’t act like it matters if I play hurt or not. I’ve done it plenty times before.”
“Alright, alright!” Ted cut in between them before Roy could retort with whatever words had conjured up that twisted, outraged look on his face. Nothing good, Jamie was sure.
“Roy, why don’t you take five, okay? In fact, let’s clear the room. Y’all got things to do, I’ll stick with Jamie while the good doc here gets him set up with what he needs.”
Even with Ted partially blocking his view, Jamie could see Roy was about to argue. Surprisingly, it was Isaac’s hand on his shoulder that seemed to take the wind out of his sails.
“Fuck! Fine!” He shrugged the hand off and pointed damningly at Jamie’s face. “But you’re not putting a toe out on the grass until I say so, you bloody fuckwit.”
With that, Roy stormed out of the room, sending the door bouncing off the wall with the force of his exit. Jamie’s teammates followed much more sedately, all with looks back over their shoulders and quiet murmurs Jamie couldn’t discern.
“Here.” He jumped slightly when maybe-Jennifer reappeared at his side with a bundle of items. “Drink this and take two paracetamol. Hold the ice pack to your side for twenty minutes. If the swelling hasn’t gone down, I’ll send you home with a few extras, okay?”
“Thank you kindly, doc,” Ted answered for him. “I’ll make sure he stays put for a bit.”
“Not a doctor,” she corrected mildly but gave Ted a smile and nod. “I’ll need you to sign an incident report and there’s some insurance paperwork to go through. I’ll go get the ball rolling on that and check in later.”
Jamie didn’t really like the way they were talking around him, rather than to him. He liked the idea of being alone with Ted after having caused a scene and an extra load of work for him even less. Still, he couldn’t think of any reason for the medic to stay and just watched her walk away, gently closing the door in her wake.
“You should probably do as she says,” Ted said softly after a moment of quiet, indicating the bottle of water and packet of tablets. “Doesn’t strike me as the ‘take it or leave it’ kind of advice. Rarely is, from those of the medical persuasion, even if they don’t have a fancy title.”
Moving like he was underwater, braced for the other shoe to drop, Jamie silently went through the motions of taking the painkillers. He tried not to move in any way that would agitate his injury but his hands were still shaking by the time he reached for the ice pack.
“Oh, here, let me…” Ted stepped in closer, his own hands outstretched, and Jamie flinched violently. The sudden jolt caused his abused ribs to make themselves known all over again and a small shout fell from his mouth unbidden.
“Alright, okay, no touching, got that memo, loud and clear,” Ted rambled on while Jamie waited for his vision to clear from the haze of pain. When it did, he noticed his coach frozen in place, hands still hovering in midair and significantly less threatening than moments before.
“Sorry,” he croaked, embarrassment and discomfort robbing his voice. “Didn’t mean… I’m sorry.”
“Now, hey, no. That one’s on me.” Ted glanced around and pulled up a chair to sit near Jamie’s knees. “How’s about you get that ice where it needs to be and you and I have a little heart-to-heart, that sound okay?”
Jamie nodded and gingerly wrapped the frozen pouch in the towel provided before applying it to his side. The relief was almost immediate and he felt his shoulders relax from the tense position he hadn’t even registered amongst everything else.
Ted clearly noticed too, since he smiled up at Jamie. There was still a furrow between his eyebrows, though.
“Ain’t it great when stuff helps the way it’s supposed to?” he started and Jamie tried not to let the dread of what was coming show on his face. “You know, when you’re sure that, in theory, something should do you good but you’re not quite bought into the reality yet? It’s a damn good feeling when the bet pays off.
“Course, sometimes it goes the other way. The thing that’s supposed to help you doesn’t do anything at all. Or, hell, it just makes everything worse…”
“I’m sorry,” Jamie blurted out again in a panic. “I weren’t trying to do that. I swear, I know I’m not supposed to mess up training or nothing. I… I…”
“Whoa, whoa, Jamie!” Ted’s smile had dropped clean off his face. “I think we’ve got some wires all muddled up here, somewhere. I’m not fishing for an apology. Matter of fact, I’m kind of wriggling on the end of the hook, myself.”
Jamie really, honestly tried to wrap his head around that one. He failed. “What?”
“I’m sorry, Jamie,” Ted told him firmly. “We all knew something wasn’t right with you out there today and let you play on through anyway. That’s no bueno. If you can’t rely on your coach to help you out when you need it, well, then, that’s not a sign of a very good coach, is it?”
Jamie stared at him, dumbfounded. “But… I didn’t tell you I were hurt.”
“There is that,” Ted agreed easily, nodding and settling back in his chair. “And I’d sure like to hear how you got knocked around so good in the whole twelve hours you were out of our sight. Any particular reason you didn’t share that with the class this morning?”
“I…” The hand that wasn’t holding the ice pack to Jamie’s ribs started picking at the disposable paper sheet on the bed. “I fell. Down the stairs at me house. Last night. I. It didn’t hurt too bad, I thought.”
Ted hummed. “Well, you see? Accident like that, it ain’t anybody’s fault. And you felt okay after?”
The excuse hung there so temptingly that Jamie was almost inclined to think they were back to mind games. He could tell Ted that he’d been sore, but fine, up until he got out on the pitch. But that would be just another lie, wouldn’t it? And all lying had done for him today was drag more and more people into his shit.
So, instead of agreeing like he so desperately wanted to do, he shook his head slowly.
“No, no I weren’t okay.” He swallowed and looked down at his shoes, dangling just shy of the floor. “Couldn’t even drive myself in, could I? But I thought being here and acting normal was better than… better than saying I couldn’t train today. More important.”
“Oh. Now, that’s another thing to chalk up in the ‘no bueno’ category, I’m sorry to say.” Ted’s voice had softened again but Jamie couldn’t bring himself to look up. “Jamie, if you’re hurting, ever, practice or no, I’d really rather you say so. Nothing’s more important than that.”
“Team is,” Jamie objected quietly. “Being here is. I don’t got anywhere to get sent back to now, do I?”
That sullen admission hung in the air. Jamie heard Ted suck in a breath.
“Okay. Alright. Could you do me a favour and try to lift that handsome as all heck face of yours up, just a smidge? I’m getting the feeling eye contact is going to be real important here.”
With very few options of avoidance available to him, Jamie forced himself to meet Ted’s gaze. His expression bore a startling resemblance to Roy’s wild-eyed reaction before, which did nothing to set Jamie’s mind at ease.
“Jamie, when you turned up to practice last season and said you weren’t going to train, I assumed you were mad because I benched you. That sound about right?”
The player nodded, ready for the familiar prickle of shame that clawed through his chest at the memory.
“So you weren’t actually hurt? Or did I get that wrong?”
Jamie shook his head this time, then clarified: “Were being a prick.”
“Alright, that’s fine. Water under the bridge.” Ted scrubbed a hand over his face, looking relieved for some bizarre reason. “Can we agree, though, that there’s a difference between someone pretending to be hurt, for whatever reason, and someone actually being badly injured? That a middle ground we can settle on?”
“Yeah…” Jamie agreed cautiously.
“Outstanding.” Ted took a deep breath. “So, let’s just take a little hop, skip and jump from there to how things might’ve played out a little differently today than they did last year?”
“Oh.” Jamie blinked a few times, processing. Slotting that bit of logic into the missing gaps of the day. “You’re not angry at me for missing training?”
Ted’s face broke back into a genuine, if tired, smile. “No, sir, I am not angry at you for that. Or for any other reason, while we’re on the subject. I am… mighty disappointed that you didn’t feel like you could come to me, or even call when you took your little tumble. But I think maybe we can both agree to do a little better next time, how about that?”
He held out his hand for a shake - his left, in deference to Jamie’s occupied right. That small concession alone was enough for Jamie to wordlessly grasp Ted’s palm with his own in a firm hold.
“Alright. I’ll try.”
“I know, Jamie,” Ted assured him. “That’s all any of us can do.”
#someone tell me why this is 3k words#jamie tartt#ted lasso#my fic#afc richmond#fic prompts#roy kent
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Process breakdown #1
Here is a breakdown of the butterfly animation. This was originally posted as a twitter thread, but a real blog post seems to be a much better format for it.
Step 1: Static Drawing
I've long wanted to experiment with Bokeh effect in pixel art as a way to avoid drawing background. It ended up being a lot more challenging than just a normal background 😂. Still an interesting experiment nonetheless and I might use it for some other stuff in the future.
Step 2: Rough Animation
I traced the static drawing with a contrasting colour, then roughly sketched the other frames. Seeing it in motion made it clear to me that the form was very obviously incorrect, but I thought I'd adjust as I go.
Step 3: Refined Animation
Before I got to this point, I naively tried to put in the colour. I quickly realized making the "veins" look consistent would be very hard without guides. So I looked up pictures of actual Morpho butterflies to study the wings in detail. Also made the shapes (mostly) correct and doubled the frame count once I was happy with the shapes.
Step 4: Colours
This was the most fun part. I conceptualized the wings as two blue tinted, matte, textured mirrors rotating in 3D space. When two mirrors come together, they start reflecting each other. The closer they get, the less the lighting from the surrounding world contribute to the colours you see. Eventually, nearly no light from the outside world make into the gap and all you see is dark blue/black.
It started looking almost like mirrors as I figured out the rough movements of the reflections; then a shimmering mess of colours as I threw in more details from the static drawing. The key trick to making the complex colours look consistent was to pay attention to every "partition" of the wings to make sure the dark colours creep in and out smoothly.
I also gradually filled in the eye spots and details on the backside of the wings, not sure if many people noticed them but I was pretty happy with how they looked.
Step 5: Shadow
A big part of realism comes from how a moving object affects the lighting around it. In this case: the shadow on the flower. This is a rough version of the shadows as I worked on it. Wasn't too concerned about making it look 100% correct, since the wings probably catch all the attention anyway.
Step 6: Final Touches
I spaced out the movements so it didn't feel quite so frantic. Instead of using the last frame as the resting frame, I used the second last, and only briefly showed the last frame at the begging and end of the motion to add a bit of realism (although in reality, butterfly wings probably don't have enough mass for that to happen, but hey, 🤷♀️).
Also spent some time to reduce the palette down by merging similar looking colours. Also reused the darker, subtler yellow in the background to create the illusion of more flowers out of focus.
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ROSE GARDEN FILLED WITH THORNS
HI, I SAW THIS BEAUTIFUL RING (image at the end) AND I JUST THOUGHT ABOUT THIS AND *dies*
Cw. Kinda angst??? (HAPPY ENDING DW!!!!)
Behind the winery lies a beautiful rose garden that you've grown yourself after moving in with him.
This garden has many kinds of roses: there's pink, yellow, white, some that are double-colored, and of course, the classic red ones alongside some others.
Diluc knows that this is your way to busy yourself while he takes care of the winery, besides the fact that you make a bit of money by selling a few bouquets of them to Flora, who sells them in the city.
It's something you love, really. It's your hobby, your passion, your entertainment, you name it.
He knows that.
And he knows he did dirty when the flowers started to die.
It was in a recent fight when he said "You spend more time with those stupid flowers than with me!"
The look on your face was something that kept making him feel this anguish in his chest that made him want to rip his heart out of it so he couldn't feel it anymore.
You didn't answer. You just nodded and turned on your heels to head out of his office.
After he piped down and replayed the scene in his head, he knew he had no right to say that. After all, he was always busy either with the winery or his darknight hero activities.
He wanted to apologize but he couldn't find the moment nor the words. And you didn't want to touch the topic.
So, one morning, when he got up from his chair to stretch a bit and look at you tending your garden, he saw the most heart-wrenching sight he could've ever imagined.
Your roses were no longer blooming. In fact, they were losing their petals and you were nowhere near.
He knows that, when your roses start to lose their petals, you cut them and make a little bouquet for his office and the living room.
But now? Now he feels like the worst person on all Teyvat.
He decides to take matters into his own hands. He gets the nearest pair of scissors he has and goes outside to your garden.
He looks through it carefully, as if selecting the finest grapes for his finest wine.
"You're doing it wrong." A soft voice says. Not in a bad way, though. More in like a Let-me-teach-you way.
"How do I do it, then?" He asks as you approach him to correct the way he's cutting the roses.
"You should use a specific scissor too, but I have to go inside and I don't want to." You say and he chuckles.
The garden is silent. The only sound that surrounds you two is the birds, the movement of the leaves of the trees and your roses, and the sound of scissors.
"Why... were you letting them die?" He asks in a rather scared way.
"Because you said I spent too much time here so I just... stopped taking care of them." You answer.
"But why? This is your passion! Your hobby! And also kinda your work." He says.
"I just... Don't know. I didn't want to make you upset after the fight and I just... stopped." You answer and he sighs, turning to the side to fully look at you and not at the plant.
"We both know that I never would be upset at you for doing something you love, honey." He smiles. "I was tired and it made me snap in a way that I shouldn't and that I'm ashamed of." He tells you. "Are you... able to forgive me?" He asks, making you smile and chuckle.
"Of course, I do." You say and he leans to kiss you softly on your lips.
A few weeks pass after this conversation you had with him and you start to take care of your garden again! Your roses bloom all over it again and he can't help but smile every time you come running to tell him that your flowers are blooming beautifully again with a huge smile that reminds him of the first time they blossomed.
One night, you're walking alongside him through it, showing him the result of your love and hard work. He waits until you're fully engrossed in your roses rambling to kneel and take out the velvet box.
"And that's why red-wine roses remind me of you-" You stop in your tracks when you turn around and see he's on his knee and with a ring.
"Will you-?" You don't let him finish that you're leaning down to kiss him and crying, and nodding and chanting 'yes's while he chuckles and gets up, putting on the ring and caressing it .
"I love you... and your rose garden where your red-wine roses remind you of me." He teases.
You giggle and kiss him again. "I love you, too."
HI, HELLO
Here's the ring that inspired this :p
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact fluff#genshin diluc#genshin impact diluc#diluc x reader#diluc ragnvindr#diluc x you
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Thomas Hewitt/Leatherface x F! Reader
Ramble♡♡
My Jersey
You had seen him before–the brooding, thick shoulder, loose black curls, mystery face man. He made you curious, oddly warm, and bold–10x bolder.
"I think I left something" You tried to put on the most convincing tone towards your brother. He shrugged, shoving a cigarette in-between his lips. Smoke swirled into the air, mixing in with the pungent fumes from the factor.
"If you take forever, I'm leaving" He twirled the car keys in the air, walking to the car. You rushed back towards the doors, mud spreading underneath the hill of your boot. The doors let out a long groan, making the humid factor all the more eerie.
You walked past big greasy tubes, large freezers packed with various types of animal meat, and cupboards lined with dripping bloody knives. You made a beeline to a space in the factor, the sound of chopping bouncing off the walls.
Your hips buckled at the sight, his muscles flexing, sweat glistening on his exposed hands. His thick fingers smeared the leaking blood around the table. Oil and grime were disgusting but on him, it was all the more attractive.
"Excuse me," It was now or never...
His body went rigid, like the sound of your voice was a song you hadn't listened to in forever, and you doubted your ability to remember all the lyrics. He continued, moving his arm, the blade of the machete tearing down into the slab of meat.
You closed your eyes, bathing in the embarrassing silence. You didn't realize how much your feet were itching to take several steps back. "Sorry," You gulped, your hands fiddling with the fabric of your clothing. You looked up at the dull yellow lighting, hoping the rays would dry the wetness coating your lens.
"What?" It was barely soft and came out like a murmur. The space between your eyebrows crinkled, and you looked at the man's back. His movements slowed the weight of the knife releasing from his grip.
You smiled, replaying the small clip of his voice again. You giggled and twirled inside, your heart exploding with childish emotions. However, it was short-lived because fuck...you hadn't planned what to say if he responded.
You stammered over your words, making weird gestures with your hands. "Hi, I'm Y/N. My brother works here. So, one day I was looking for him but found you. And I asked around for your name—some people can be mean so I stopped but then I asked my brother. But he was curious and wouldn't tell me anything until I gave him a reason to and I couldn't tell him I wanted to get to know a cute guy..." You drifted off, listening to the silence that replaced your rambling.
He didn't say anything. The chopping reverberated once again. He didn't even tense or spare you a glance. The unresponsive long seconds sent you an obvious rejection.
"Sorry, I should leave" Your heart fell. You took a few steps back, hoping the walls could squeeze your figure, hiding you from any civilization. Your mind is filled with diseased thoughts. 'What if he thought I was weird? He's not talking for a reason, he thinks I'm disgusting, my voice sounds raspy'
You were sprinting at this point, your throat clenching for fresh air. "Fuck" You groaned, looking around, all the walls looked the same. You kicked the nearest beer bottle, sending it across the floor, the sound made you flinch.
Your fingers arched at your scalp, pathetic wetness blurring your vision. There were so many thoughts fleeting and stacking. You regretted stepping back into the building, your brother probably stranded you here, you embarrassed yourself greatly, and missed your last chance of finding a guy you liked.
Your brain started to pulse, an instant headache forming from the stomach-churning feeling. You rubbed your eyes, removing the tears staining your waterline. You slowly moved out of the humid room, retracing your steps, navigating to the entrance.
Your heart was too intertwined with your thoughts and your eyes were too focused on the ground. You didn't realize the mumbled—no grumble and stiff body blocking your way. You paused, your heart swirling around, burying itself into the ground.
You saw the light seeping in from the entrance behind his torso. He was tall in front of you, his body emitting a metallic smell. You studied his mask, the tuff material looping around his mouth. His lips were visible, they were parted but nothing came out.
You imagined a scenario where your hands could caress his face, lips grazing each other, foreheads bumping together. A rhythmic honk came from outside. "I have to go, my brother is waiting" You squirmed passed him, the words came out weakly.
His hand grabbed your arm, his palm gulped your limp. His grip was tight, a red irritation mark showing. You looked down at your feet, hesitant to make eye contact. He placed a crumpled parchment in your hand before walking off.
You turned around, rushing outside. Cold air filled your lungs, you let out a sasitified sigh. Running to your brother's car that was still beeping. You slowed down, to open your palm. The paper was oily and has a few specks of dirt on it.
You undid the many creases, stretching out the paper. "Thomas Hewitt..." You whispered to yourself, re-reading the paper again and analyzing each letter to make sure you read it right. You felt foolish for stopping dead in your tracks and slightly jumping up and down.
"Hurry the fuck up!" Your brother yelled, laying down on the horn again. So many questions and emotions were flying through your mind. You skipped over to the car, your eyes smashed against the words. You examined his handwriting and the small swirl on his last name.
Your brother moved the stick into a new gear. You leaned back in your seat, tracing over the words. "Tell me about Thomas Hewitt"
Masterlist
#fanfic#x reader#fluff#slasher imagines#slasher x reader#slashers x reader#slasher headcanons#slasher fandom#slasher#thomas hewitt x reader#thomas hewitt#leather face#leatherface#bubba sawyer#bubba saywer x reader#bubba x reader#thomas x reader#thomas hewitt x reader fluff#thomas hewitt fluff#thomas hewitt smut#leatherface x reader#leatherface x you
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Hey @xxtc-96xx ?
I found myself pondering the existence of Stripe, and the mental stage Scarfy would have to reach and uh.
I wrote you a fic? Hope you like it?
Stripes
It had been nice.
Mewtwo lazily floated along the edge of the forest, casually noting how the jungle was lining the steppe, lines of trees breaking into the yellow grass like green stripes.
It was rare that they all came together, sure they often ran into each other, or sought out company when they felt it. But a full meeting with all of Mew’s descendants together was quite uncommon now a days.
Their number had grown so much, now able to fill a hidden glade with color and movement.
The twins were getting so big, it wouldn’t be long before they would set out on their own. He would likely get more visits from his sister as the “nest” became empty. Or perhaps she would seek out Pigment, Stain was still enough of a youngster that he might soothe the heart of a successful mother. Perhaps he could join the three for a time as well. It wasn’t because he felt lonely himself, not at all. But after the brief meeting he had to admit it had been nice to be around his kind, regardless, or perhaps exactly because of the chaos the young ones induced.
Huh, what an odd thought.
A flash of red caught his attention. Cheri berries sparkled between green leaves.
Mewtwo gently descended.
Ah yes, sweet Cheri, Huey was rightfully proud of the rascal, even if the youngsters colorization did feel like a cosmic joke.
Mewtwo felt himself chuckle slightly at the age-old joke, using his scarf as a temporarily bag as he plucked several ripe berries, gently striped in color from the different levels of sunlight received. He was long past the days were Mew, well intended if rather disturbingly, had constantly nagged him about eating enough. Sure he still had lapses, eating was easily forgotten when focused on a new project or thought experiment, but the last time was at least…huh, half a decade ago?
How peculiar, he thought. Though, loath as he was to admit it, Mew had been right all those years ago (as well as his sister, not that he would ever admit it to her face) He really did feel much stronger, more centered and even troublesome memories was less harsh.
He snorted slightly to himself and set of, making sure the new weight was secure against his chest. For a moment memory, pleasant ones, assaulted him. The weight of a small squirming body settling against him, a separate heartbeat slowly syncing with his own.
Mewtwo found himself closing his eyes, some of the memories was fairly recent. Stain was such a fuzzy child, but even he could not deny the security of the warm and snug fabric. Of course, he was too big for it now, and Mewtwo found himself strangely missing the sensation.
How silly.
Right now he really should be more focused on finding a new place to enjoy his lunch, and he carefully scanned the treetops as he veered away form the steppe and directly into the jungle.
There.
A slight gab between the canopy, revealing a grass covered glade.
He landed, and found a nice grassy knoll as a temporary seat. The berries were slightly warm from the sun and his own heat, their juices prickling pleasantly against his tongue.
The glade had a beautiful bloom of flowers, all stretching out for the sunlight available, the tops of the trees filtering the light in flickering stripes of light, and Mewtwo was quite pleased with his choice of resting spot. So many colors, so many shapes and scents. Even after centuries the world still presented him with new beauty and color.
One particular bloom was quite spectacular, its diameter larger than his fist, the tips of the petals a rich purple, fading in small stripes to a more gentle lavender towards the middle where soft yellow stamens rose, their pollen delicately clinging to the stalks.
He found himself contemplating it, internally marking the spot on his inner map. Huey would be glad to be show it. Even as a small kit he had been so delighted with the colors of the world. So silly, such a tremendous change in his life, the very idea of their kind actually being able to reproduce, as well as so many other revelations.
Mewtwo rested his chin in his paw, still watching the flower. It was strange, how he could now look back to those chaotic, painful and wonderful days with only an occasional sting of emotional pain.
He had regrets, sure, but also so many pleasant memories. The children in particular, so baffling, so infuriating, so wonderful.
He closed his eyes, gently allowing himself to study a thought he has been carefully cultivating, so cautious, so wary as it was one of the few that still brought pain.
Pigment had changed his life, in so many ways. And it could have gone so wrong, he had initially made such mistakes. And only now, years and years later, did he truly allow himself to wonder. How would it have been, if he had accepted her as a daughter from the very beginning?
He knew it never would have happened, quite honestly he had been such a volatile pokemon back then that it was a wonder Pigment had turned out as well as she had. It was merely a thought experiment, and not one he turned to very often.
Perhaps he really would seek her out for the time. Why not? Loath as he was to admit it, right now he did feel a need for company.
Carefully he rose, taking a moment to gently savour the scent of the purple flower, its fine floral tones rising in the air along with small yellow specs of pollen.
As he ascended above the trees he carefully cast out his mental senses, trying to pinpoint Pig’s distinct psychic presence. Finding a direction, he set of with a casual speed. Even if had only been a few days it would be quite nice to be around her again.
Mewtwo had only flown a few hours when he noticed a strange tingling feeling in his lover abdomen.
Darn it, he really hoped those cheri had not been bad, or that it heralded something worse than that.
#xxtc-96xx#fanfic#of a fancomic#Pokemon#Mewtwo#the timeline between the kids are pure guesswork#I most likely got it wrong#behold my clumsy attempts at stuffing as many references to striped patterns into this#Oh well#its just a fun little experiment
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Since you asked for it
I am curious what do you think about yandere Gallagher secretly being an eldritch monster or Cognito hazard.
oh my god... i had to take a day to think about it, like it could go so many ways??
Eldritch monster is an easy alley, esp with his connection to the 'death' in Penacony, and how he's made up of aspects of other family members. And a cognito hazard is also a viable option considering how he could've blended himself in after he took aspects of people and how Penaconys memory and thought altering aspects used by the memokeepers and by sunday himself, who says it's not possible.
this may have escaped my hands...
Your mind is hazy as you sit in the Dreamjolt Holstery, the alcohol makes your thoughts stir. It's surprisingly silent today, none of the dreamjolt troupe are here to cause a ruckus. But as always a familiar face is here to listen to your musings.
"Well, looks like you had too much to drink eh, doll?" Gallagher chuckles wiping a glass as your eyes focus onto him.
"..Maybe i have." a noncommittal hum escapes your throat, The alcohol is messing with you, his face is a blur, but most of the features you can make out, that brown hair, the stubble, the scars, but it feels wrong. Were the lights always this bright? Practically searing your eyes as you try and manage your tipsy mind, lest something foolish slips out of it.
"I should probably go now... or do you think Siobhan would let me crash here?" Laughter bubbles from him as he sets down the glass,
"Eh, maybe, but the real question is if you're gonna pay your tab tonight or tomorrow?"
"I think i'll pay tomorrow, you and i both know i'll be back here anyways." You stand, rubbing away the headache as you get to your feet, The world spins for a split second before you gets your wits about, walking out of the holstery and making your way to the connecting portal in the Reveries' lobby.
It's cold, chills creep onto your skin, the empty halls doing nothing to soothe the feeling. You feel the goosebumps on your skin, unnerving your tipsy mind as you avoid the more monster-infested areas of the hotel, hoping that the maintenance staff can finish faster just so the halls can be less empty than it is now.
To think that you'd miss the loud patrons, the smooth jazz and the clacking of shoes that would usually fill the hotel...
You're snapped to sobriety as you feel eyes dig themselves onto your skin, if the cold hadn't sobered you up earlier, this certainly did. Steeling your nerves. the walk continues, peering into halls, listening for the noise of the monsters that now litter the empty Reverie hotel, the gaze never leaves you, like a predator stalking it's prey.
You know that you haven't encountered any monsters, even with the alcohol in your system spotting them would be easy, bright colors and mechanical sounds, all tell-tale signs of their presence. A flash of purple and yellow moves in your peripheral, making you jump into a panic, ducking into the door leading to the main lobby.
There's a slight shakiness to your movements now, heart thumping in your ears as you reach the connecting pathway towards Golden hour. You take a few deep breaths, steadying your nerves before you enter the portal.
Those eyes remain gazing at your back, the faint pink light disappearing before your eyes can even register it.
#writings from the cosmos: star rail#honkai star rail#yandere gallagher#yandere gallagher x reader#whooo boy this brought me out of writters block#psyzel speaks#ik it's not all eldritch horror or cognito hazard#but i like to think that when reader was drinking he was fuckin with their mind#and with how paranoid you would reasonably be in a place crawling with monsters and fucked up room logic#it would be easy for you to write off being watched#void visitor: brosch
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Chapter 3
Cw: canon typical violence, injury, self-hate, drinking, Johnny getting his ass drunk, tell me if I missed any.
Wc: 3.4k
Series masterlist
previous
He can't remember how he got here, just a second ago - or was it an hour - he was smoking outside, staring dully at the few stars that glinted brightly against the artificial lights of the base: lines drawn down the tarmac with small, integrated lights for landing and takeoff, lampposts scarcely placed for minimal movement, and the bulbs lighting up the base's various entrances.
He took a smoke, a cheap cigarette, nothing like the expensive ones Price burns on a daily, it didn't matter much to him as long as he got the nicotine rush from it, he was satisfied. The fresh, moist air of the British isles after a shower felt refreshing, the cool air against his clothed skin and the peaceful atmosphere that the night brought. He leaned back, figure blanketed by the lights blind spot, covered in darkness with only the fire of his burning cigarette revealing him. Every breath of nicotine calmed his mind, the puffs he breathed through scarred lips. The darkness helped lax his hesitance to pull up his mask, only high enough to show the tip of his nose, having foregone wearing his usual mask for a more comfortable, skull-painted balaclava. One of many dozens in his room, one he had the luxury of living alone.
His first reason for standing outside was to run away from his thoughts, to smither the rising nausea of his spiraling noise in his mind. He hoped the cool, autumn aid would calm his frenzied mind, to muffle the screams and painful memories that haunted him in the living and unconscious world. The flashes of red lining the walls he was familiar with and some he wasn't, begs and pleas cried out towards him or for him when he was deployed on an armed mission from the start.
He was a battle-hardened soldier - lieutenant by rank - and he has seen monstrosities people would never dream up, horrors of proxy wars and terrorist attacks, something he quickly got used to when he became "Ghost", special ops. Although his intentions were to override the sounds, he found calmness in the quiet nights at the base, no one bothered him, no one questioned him, and no one would strut up to him with words he only wished he could shove down their throats.
Solitude was a friend and enemy to Ghost, it made his demons lash out as often as he found his mind wandering off, dazed and drowsy. Insomnia made it a daily thing, loneliness wasn't a word he had in his vocabulary, he worked better solo, but having someone he trusted helping him was tolerable.
He was enjoying - enjoying was an understatement but no other word came to his mind - his moment of silence on his own, unbothered by the life inside the base. He was tired, but sleep wouldn't catch him, his eyes were dazed but never closed. He sighed, breathing out a cloud of smoke as he stared far away, eyes moving over his surroundings without staying on anything for too long.
"L.T., can I come out?" a gentle voice spoke out, asking him for permission as if he owned the space he was occupying. He almost scoffed at how soft and respectful your tone was, a stark contrast to this morning's mission you were sent together; though he liked the respect you had for his space, people rarely having him such consideration.
He groaned out his response, neither a yes nor a no, but he didn't tell you to go away; "Fuck off, Johnny, " as he'd occasionally tell Soap. He heard the door click and slam shut behind you, watching you step into the yellow light through the corner of his eyes. You took tentative steps towards him, hands slipped into your black, cargo pants, eyes straining in the dark to see him.
He realized you were dressed casually, cargo pants and a blouse shirt tucked into them, you seemed ready to go out or had plans. You cleaned up well from your soot and dirt-covered skin and hair from the deployment, the shallow scratch from shrapnel was disinfected and closed neatly.
He pushed himself against the wall as frag grenades were thrown at him, hidden behind a wall that held well against the loud blast. His headset helped muffle the booming sound of the continued explosions, the shock from it blowing rock, dust, and shrapnel his way.
"Ghost! Winter! How copy?!" Soap's voice screamed through the thick buzzing in their ears, laced with worry for you both.
"Just a scratch, Soap!" They heard your voice loud and clear, a sharp tone cutting the worry that grew in their chest. "You broken, Soap, Ghost?"
He would've sighed in relief if he were in another situation, but the mission needed his complete attention. He waited for the moment when the grenades stopped being thrown at them, he fished his frag and threw it, covered behind the safety of the brick wall.
The explosion rocked the ground, screams from the enemies reaching his ears satisfyingly. At that moment, he moved under the cover of the dust, ducking into the enemy line just as you reached the other side, doming the terrorist standing before you. When he met you in the middle, he took a quick moment to examine your face, the bleeding wound on your cheek dirtied with dark soot and beige, crusted sand. Otherwise, the sharp gleam in your eyes told him all he needed, you were fine, winded but still strongly standing.
He turned as fast as he got to your side and marched into the base, you following behind him. Once you entered the base, the infiltration mission could truly start its way to the end, the capture of this base.
"Ghost and Winter going in."
You approached him slowly, gazing at the butt of his cigarette. You were clean and that smile on your face felt odd to him after he spent hours staring at your cold, dead stare behind the rifle you held when you infiltrated the base in tow with him.
"We wondered if you wanted to go to the bar with us, it's on Price," your question didn't seem odd, it wouldn't be the first time they had you invite him to join them at the pub, to drink at a cornered booth in a bustling pub. We, as you mentioned, were probably Soap, Gaz, Roach, and Price, none fearing to send you to Ghost.
Before he could reply, you interjected, "C'mon, L.T., bourbon on the rocks. Soap told me the pub we're going has good bourbon." You knew he liked it on the rocks, that he only liked bourbon, he'd only drink it. You hadn't teased or whined about it like Soap did, you complimented his refined palette, once mentioning how you sometimes enjoyed bourbon too.
The team knew he had a soft spot for you, however odd and crazy sounding it felt to him for saying he felt comfortable with you. He had replayed his words in his minds nights ago, how he'd grown comfortable around you, almost fond of you, and how considerate you were with him - a soft, feminine touch to his military life.
You had a way with him, your words made him react more strongly than any others would. Months spent working closely with you, you were his one on one buddy, his trusted cover fire, his smart and kind teammate. The missing aspect of a feminine figure in his life probably made his fondness for you stronger. Most women who've approached him in the past merely wanted a one-night stand, a quick, detached fling they found big and beefy - him especially for the balaclava he always wore, the mystery and thrill behind his identity - and they were drunk out of their mind or horny, wanted a good fuck for the night, no attachments or feelings.
He took a last breath of his smoke, dropping it to step over the burning tip as he pulled his mask down, snugly against his stubbled jaw. He hadn't found the time to shave, not being able to stand his face - Simon Riley's face, the man he was no more - on the mirror, it brought disgust and self-hatred coursing through his veins.
Your smile widened, it stretched slightly on both edges as you stepped back, giving Ghost the space he needed. You kept your eyes on him, the glazed-over look in his warm, brown eyes and the tired slant of his lids.
"I take that as a yes, Ghost?"
The triumphant tilt of your head looked quirky, it reminded him of a puppy. The slight shift of your head made your blouse crumple, the chains and dog tag glinting under the yellow light. Whenever you'd go out, you kept your dog tag, it was to you - like it was to them - a remnant of who they were when they started, a lost memory of their past as recruits and privates before climbing up the ranks.
With each step you took back, he took one forward, steadily sliding out of the darkness and into the light like a monster from the night, crawling and stalking for the right moment to pounce. Every step he took was calculated, silently stalking behind you when you turned your back to him. He wanted to tell you how dangerous it was to have your back towards him, he was a danger - a menace for your doe-eyed stare.
It was a short walk around the base, his long legs easily outpacing your shorter ones, leading you to Price's Ford, a rented one from the British base. You both knew your way around the building and where officials parked their cars, on one side were military vehicles, and the other regular cars. Soap waved them over when he saw Ghost's lumbering figure approaching, calling out for your names throughout the calm night, ignoring Price's warnings about it being late.
"Knew ya'd do it, ain't da right, bonnie?" Soap grinned, springing his arm around your shoulders, and pulling your head to his hard chest. He smelled of fresh cologne and soap, as they all did after a messy mission.
"Course you did, huh, Soap?" Gaz teased, freeing you from the Scot's hook.
You filed into the car, Price taking the wheel while Gaz took the passenger seat - he called dibs on "shotgun" or so he said - Roach and you moved to the back of the eight-seater SUV, leaving the middle row for the two walls of muscles.
The ride out was filled with Gaz and Soap's quips and ranged discussions, they went back and forth, calling one of you out to back up their points or simply wanting your opinions. Whenever Roach signed something, you told the rest, letting them know his words. The few grunts and groans from Ghost were the only signs of life from him, his gaze concentrated on the darkened window on his side, staring out into the lights that lit up the city.
He was on guard - always had been - on the ride and while you walked into the pub, eyes gazing around him and the team, taking in his surrounding with wary glares. The warm, gold bulbs cast their light on the honey, brick walls, black lounge seats, reflective, marble tables, and simple chairs. People most sat near the bar table and on red stools, where the drinks came out more quickly and the wait shorter. Ghost was eyeing them as he sat down, he took the edge of a lounge, a better place to watch over the place and move hastily if he had to.
You sat to Ghost's right, squeezed between him and Roach while Price sat comfortably on his own chair, letting Gaz and Soap take up the other side of the lounge. The bantering duo was tasked to order their drinks: a few shots for him and Gaz, bourbon on the rocks (bourbon and ice), rum for the Captain, and a rum and coke for both you and Roach, preferring the sweeter side of alcoholic drinks. Once Price gave Gaz his card - to open a tab - they walked to the bar, repeating the list you made.
When the first drinks were served, Gaz brought them over, his shots and Ghost's bourbon. You watched Soap pass the card and juggle three drinks to your booth at the farthest corner of the pub.
"Order's up!" Soap announced, voice as jovial as usual. "Yer rum, Captain," he placed the cup down, the golden liquid sloshing around, nearly spilling. "Rum and coke, bonnie, Roach," he slid over your cup, the brown and ice clinking against the glass, the lime neatly stuck in place.
"To a successful mission."
You cheered after Price raised his cup, clinking your alcoholic drinks together and each taking sip, Soap, and Gaz downed their first shot glass. Ghost, however, didn't share your giddy celebration, pulling his mask high enough to drink slowly, face covered by the hood of his black hoodie.
"That was a good throw, Ghost, saved our arses back there," you peered at him, head cocked his way with a proud smile.
His eyes glazed over your face, starting from your eye and down to your moving lips. He repeated your words in his mind, blinking lazily with a grunt: "You did good, Winter."
"Ya shoulda seen her! Followin' L.T. and takin' everything down, " Soap slammed the shot cup down, cheeks slightly pink, yet far from drunk, it was his second shot of tequila. "Und yer waes cool too, cold as winter back in Scotland!
A few drinks seemed to make his accent harder, words changing from English to near-deep Scottish. It was funny to hear him spit words that no one understood.
I wish I could've seen that, must've been quite the sight, huh? Gaz and Roach weren't deployed for that mission, they were needed elsewhere during the last two days, somewhere north of you.
"'S nothing wrong with that, right? Cap?" you directed your pout at your Captain, forcing him to answer even though he'd prefer not to get too involved in your childish banter - or so he kept saying.
"Not bad, no, 's fine Winter. Stay sharp and frosty's good."
"So long's your not as grumpy as Ghost, Winter, " Gaz's teasing jab made you laugh, the image of you being as gloomy and broody as Ghost wasn't something you'd see yourself as.
Frowning too much would make you old and wrinkle faster, as your mom once said. It wasn't something you planned on doing, Ghost was dark enough for the whole team, and the baggage he carried was heavy enough for the team to support him, even though he kept everyone out of his trauma, you all still promised to listen when the time came.
A few glasses became many, and the table balanced on its sole leg with the piling amount of empty cups. Soap and Gaz were drunk out of their mind, slurring words and cheeks flushed hotly with the promise of a horrible hangover. Roach looked tipsy, but you knew by how unmoving he was that he too, was drunk, just not as much as the three others. Price, however serious or smiley he got, was as drunk as Gaz, cheeks red and inflamed, holding his empty cup of rum and mumbling incoherent thing. You enjoyed one rum and coke, Ghost having two, you were both designated drivers, you for not wanting to drink too much, and Ghost for his self-restraint with alcohol.
"All fuckin' plastered, " you heard Ghost hiss out, moving to hoist Price against him to put them into the SUV. Their stumbling steps could hardly make a step or two off their seats.
After you left to close the tab, you pocketed Price's card and helped Roach, guiding him outside the establishment and into the back row, leaning into the side window. Ghost went back for Soap as you did with Gaz, piling them onto one another, arms clutching each other like cuddling children. You snickered, they always ended up like this when Price or Soap took you to drink, pulling at their clothes and waking wrapped together with headaches and nausea.
You moved to look at Ghost, catching the dazed gaze he had as he stared at you, watching you pushing the two men inside while he waited beside you.
"Want me to drive, L.T.? You had two mugs," you met his eyes gazing a lot him quizzically, ready to take the keys from his pockets.
When he nodded and passed the keys to you, you rounded the car and took the driver's seat. You were ready to leave when he sat in the passenger seat, staring into the street. It was a slow ride, you drove slowly to mitigate the drunks' stomachs, swirling to the side when the road had a big pothole.
Without Gaz or Soap talking, it was extremely quiet, only the slurred mumbles and snores from them filling the car. While you concentrated on driving, Ghost took the moment to peer at you, watching your calm expression. It was so expressive, your face morphing from happiness to cold, calculated cunningness, your expression changed as fast as the wind's course, blowing north one second and south the next.
He was almost mesmerized by you, your glimmering irises, your shoulder-lengthed hair, and the soft skin scarred but still beautiful to him. Bonnie, Soap called you, rightful and truthful in their eyes. You were young and a feisty beauty, snarling back when you played, smiling brightly when you talked to them (even to him, he never understood how you could stand smiling or looking at him, an abomination compared to someone like you) and grew cold, dangerous when you were deployed, a take-no-shit.
He was scarred and carried around his trauma like a glove, engrained in his bones and hung from his skin. He wore a mask to hide his past, he covered himself to hide from prying eyes, from people who asked why he wore a mask, if he took it off, or if he was ugly - human in any sense. You hadn't, you respected his limits, the barrier he placed around him, and the ones people placed around themselves. You didn't ask any of them for their secrets when you first joined. He first thought you were polite, but then he saw the wall you put up, like them, you had secrets you held dearly to your heart.
His mind wandered back to you every time he tried thinking of something else, even as you parked the car and slipped out, helping him move everyone to their room, Soap and Gaz, Roach and you, and Price on his own.
He watched you close the door, eyes stuck to your back until all he could see was the door, the grey and beige walls of the barracks filling his vision.
"Fuck-" Gaz groaned, head held between his hands. His face was scrunched in pain, fingers delicately holding onto the locks of his brown hair.
"Ma heid's loupin'..." his roommate grumbled, laying face down into his crossed arms. Heat pulsed in his head, it was painful from the way he groaned and whined. "Don't ya laugh a mae, Winter."
You couldn't help it, everyone apart from you and Ghost were hungover, face scrunched in pain, Price and Roach's mild, while Gaz and Soap suffered more strongly.
You'd been able to lead all the stumbling and groaning men to the Task Force's small kitchen, leaving Ghost to watch over them while you got them water and painkillers from the infirmary.
"I warned you about drinking too much, didn't I?" you grinned, placing down two pills for each of them. You knew they'd need it if they wanted to get things done, and from experience, their bigger bodies needed twice as much as you did.
Thank you, he was hardly able to sign his words, hands shaky and eyes red-rimmed with pain skewering his head over drinking a bit too much. He thought he'd learn to limit himself, but he got thrown into the flow with Soap and Gaz's insistent drinking.
You sat on the other side of the L-shaped sofa, giving him the space you knew he wanted, both watching over the cacophony of pained hushes and mumbles. Your eyes met, his a warm, tired brown hugged by the dark paint on his skin flashed with you squinted ones, appreciating the sight of your found family in one place. You both knew that you'd die for one another and the Task Force, damned any destiny, this was the most important thing you had. Something bright in your dark world.
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What are some fics that you think are must reads for kaeya fans?
TEEHEE okay i think i have rec'd most of these before when i was asked for fic recs some time ago but its ok. here are the most kaeya fics ever in my opinion !
clouds in a lake by VelleRue
“Pot of butter,” Kaeya mumbles beneath his breath, eyes roving over the words. Alone, the words wouldn’t be very special. The shapes and sounds don’t scare him as much anymore, not like they did when he was new and wore shoes with torn soles and only knew how to say, My father told me he was going to buy grape juice.
Together though, they sound like the orange-yellow light of the oil lamp flickering in the corner. They sound like sticky fingers and bread rolls. Like a dinner table of three.
Cake and a pot of butter.
this one is so bittersweet and melancholic and i love all the headcanons in it and the way it's written oughhh it's a great read!! short but really good
stubborn roots by alexithymias
Kaeya’s plan to end his life is interrupted when Rosaria asks him to take care of a plant for a few days.
this one is heavier so definitely pay attention to the tags but, oh my god. this rewired my brain SO violently. i adore the concept and the characterization is really on point. it is so painful in all the good ways i like stories to be painful. i really recommend it!!
I'm gonna miss your love when it's gone by imaginarypasta
A selection of scenes from Kaeya's childhood related to his relationships with his fathers, and all they have led him to be.
im pretty sure ive rec'd this before but this is like, one of my favorite portrayals of kaeya and his bio father ever. its just so good. so delightfully sad. a breath of fresh air from the common headcanon that his father was an evil asshole. the kaeya & crepus bits are also really good and i like the author's hcs about khaenri'ah/the abyss SO much
not bad for a walk on death's doorstep by b_attery
Fear is a knife’s edge. Fear is a killer. Fear is how you know you’re still alive.
Kaeya Alberich, not yet Ragnvindr, knew how to fear before he knew how to talk. As the heir to the regency of a dead kingdom, a spy-in-training to be sent to the surface world, as the last hope of Khaenri’ah – there were many things to fear.
And later, as the Cavalry Captain of Mondstadt and a traitor no matter what he chose, Kaeya Alberich ex-Ragnvindr knew that as long as he lived, he would be afraid.
i have definitely rec'd this one before. but i just really love it!!! my comment on the bookmark says "literally the best kaeya character study i have ever read" and yeah that still holds up. shaped a lot of my kaeya hcs. i love this author
Hundred-Watt Light by pepperjuice
The first time the thought occurs to Kaeya he is eleven years old.
Well, that’s not exactly true.
It had been twisting in the back of his head for a long time, already. Formless and unspoken, an ever-present awareness, a whisper.
But the first time it rings in his head, put in words, bright and shiny and just behind his eyes—
He is eleven.
***
A story about ten years of contingency plans and holding your own hand.
(Because how else are you supposed to live with a weight too big to hold all alone?)
OH I MUST HAVE REC'D THIS LIKE THREE TIMES BUT THIS IS REALLY A MUST READ. first of all heed the tags because it touches quite heavy topics! but this entire concept is SO interesting to be explored in kaeya's character and this author does it SO well..... this is one of my favorite fics, like, ever, lmao. absolute kaeya must read To Me
Lamellae by scripturient
A slowish movement in a discordant key, wherein Kaeya has bitten off rather more than he can chew and needs significant help; meanwhile, malady exposes buried memory and dread. A limited plot from a limited point of view which dabbles in themes of pain, trust, angst, conflict, and betrayal. Not quite a character study.
the writing style in this one is SO cool, i love it! non-linear narratives are my thing, i never get tired of it. and the whump in this is so good.. i like whump fanfiction, lol. the combination of characters in this is really fun as well, though everything is told from kaeya's very disoriented point of view. anyway, amazing exploration of his character!! the next work in this series, The thaw that comes in springtime (plus the next next work!), is also really good and i loved it, particularly the ragbros bit lol. another must read!
undertow / oversight by MercuryPoisoning
In which Kaeya gets by with a little help from his friends.
another one i feel ive rec'd before, but i love it. really good characterization!! especially his relationship with diluc!!! really good read. i love this author's stuff a lot lol. (bonus by the same author, and another one i consider a must-read even though it's still in progress and also way heavier than most of the previous recs: sleeping marble lion! i really like the writing style and the concept!!! pay attention to the tags but trust me it's a delightfully gut wrenching one<3)
whew. i think i have a few more i could have added here. i just went through my bookmarks lol i have read a decent amount of kaeya fanfiction. hope these are to your liking!!! fic rec'ing is one of my favorite activities
#was on the verge of linking my ao3 bookmarks but. i use that account since 2018.#the great hamilton incident of 2019......#among other things.#BUT YEAH BEEN TYPING THIS FOR OVER AN HOUR AND ITS WAY PAST MY BEDTIME. ENJOY!#askpilled#fic recs#kaeyaposting#kaeya alberich#kaeya#if tjere are any mistakes on this post i didnt notice it sorry. its nearly 1 in the morning
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The Hunt
On my Halloween vampire kick still!
Vampire! Fives x Human F!Reader
Reader F but not described.
Rating: Explicit (R) Minors DNI
Warnings: Mentions of abuse, vampirism, blood drinking, wall s3x, alleyway s3x, p in v, unprotected sex
Summary: There was an unspoken rule amongst the vampires of Coruscant; don’t kill unless provoked, leave no evidence, don’t feed more than once on the same person.
As his eyes focused on a familiar outline in the crowd, arousal shooting through his body, Fives knew he was going to break that last rule tonight. Again.
@amorfista I'm back on my vampire BS lol
79’s was heaving, as it ever was, though Fives couldn’t help but smirk at the array of fancy dress on the patrons.
Hallows’eve had always been a spectacle he’d watched from the outside, but never participated in, until now. Being a vampire, it almost felt like a festival honouring him, many a skimpy clad dancer with fake, painted blood spots on their neck, mimicking them being a victim of a bite.
His stomach fluttered and cock twitched at the mere thought of making those marks real.
Letting out a soft growl, dark yellow eyes flicked across the crowd.
There were so many options tonight, it was on the verge of overwhelming. Usual nights were quiet when he would hunt, pickings often slim, especially since the end of the war.
Peace bred much fewer habit drinkers than wartime, he mused.
But he always got his fill, taking enough to satisfy but not to kill. There was no point in arousing suspicion, and if enough patrons of a certain venue were killed, it inevitably closed. There was an unspoken rule amongst the vampires of Coruscant; don’t kill unless provoked, leave no evidence, don’t feed more than once on the same person.
As his eyes focused on a familiar outline in the crowd, arousal shooting through his body, Fives knew he was going to break that last rule tonight. Again.
She looked ethereal under the strobing lights of the dancefloor, hair swaying with the movement of her hips, body gyrating to the music. Wearing only a thigh length, navy blue dress adorned with sequins on the hem, she literally sparkled, body shivering when she felt his gaze settle on her.
As soon as her attention turned to him, a bolt of arousal went straight to Five’s cock, his flesh hardening instantly. His tongue darted out to lick his lips automatically, her face flushing ever so slightly at the action as she reached out her hand and beckoned him over.
He couldn’t deny her. He never could.
Sauntering through the crowd, their eyes remained locked on each others, even as bodies swayed and rocked around them, sweat and alcohol tainting the scent of the air. It was a magnetic pull, as if he was drawn to her, the sweet, addictive memory of the taste of her already on his tongue.
By the time he reached her, he was rock hard and wanting, slipping into place behind her and joining in with her writhing dance, growling low in his throat at the way she pressed back against him.
“I thought I’d missed you tonight,” she called over the music, her backside grinding against his hips as his mouth found her shoulder. He inhaled deeply, relishing her scent. “You’ve not been around for a few days.”
It was true, Fives had been haunting some of his other hunting grounds and meeting with vode, but the allure of her, the memory of how sweet her essence was, had him coming back more often than he should.
The fact she’d noticed sent another thrill through his body, but this hit differently, warming his cold heart in a way he didn’t want to dwell on too much.
“You miss me, mesh’la?” he teased lightly, dragging his lips across the soft skin of her neck. He could feel her racing pulse, hear her ragged breathing, practically taste her arousal as she spun around in his arms, facing him.
“What if I did?” she challenged, gaze locked on Five’s, his smirk matching hers.
“You like playing dangerous games, sweet one,” he hummed, looking her over. She was utterly gorgeous, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit, it was one of the first things he’d noticed about her first.
That first night was still etched in his memory, how she’d lured him in with her siren song of a dance, grinding on him until it got too much and she dragged him towards the bathrooms.
It was only as he fingered her from behind, his hand pushed into her underwear in front of the mirror, her face twisted in pleasure and his reflection phasing in and out of reality that she learned of his true nature, practically begging him to drink from her, her core clenching at the very thought of it.
He’d complied easily, lost to pleasure as he drank his fill and she sank to her knees, drinking everything he had to offer in her own way.
It had been a pleasurable night, one that he’d kept in his memory for a week after, sated enough that he didn’t have to hunt. And when he returned, she was there. Waiting. Wanting. Sidling up to him at the bar and pressing her wrist to his mouth, urging him to sink his teeth into her.
He hadn’t even had time to order a drink before he had her pressed up against the wall, feasting on her pussy before he drank from her again, fingering her to a sweet release as he lapped at the wound, closing it tenderly.
Oddly, they’d talked afterwards, not for long, but enough to exchange names and dates they intended to visit next. And it sparked something in Fives. This was dangerous, he knew. She could be anyone; a hunter, the bait of a hunter, or just a hot girl with a very specific kink.
Whatever the truth was, he was wary to begin with. But weeks turned into months, and now it had been almost a full year since their first encounter, his heart fluttering at the thought.
They’d still not had sex, his nature still bound by honour. He wouldn’t take advantage of her, everything had to be initiated in a way she was comfortable with. But tonight, it felt different. More primal.
His suspicions were confirmed when she leaned in closer, tongue darting over the shell of his ear, sending a shiver through his body.
“I was actually hoping to ask you for something, Fives. For our upcoming anniversary.”
Her words were teasing but her face was set a little too serious, Five’s stomach twisting as the music slowed a little, the rhythm more sensual, bodies pressed close together.
“And what would that be, mesh’la?” he asked against her skin, lips moving in to caress her neck once more.
A beat of silence. Then…
“I… I want you to turn me. I want you to fuck me and let me turn, Fives. I want to… I want to be with you.”
Fives jerked back as if stung, eyes wide.
He had expected the request for sex, sure, it was something that had been on his mind as well, but the latter half of her request sent him reeling.
“I… I can’t!” he half choked, stumbling back a few steps. Her face was a picture of disappointment and hurt, uncertainty weaved through every movement it made. “You… you can’t just ask that of me.”
“Why not?” she snapped, suddenly angry, the rage rising up to replace the sharpness of her hurt.
Fives looked around, aware other patrons had stopped dancing to look at them, listening in on their conversation.
In a movement that brokered no arguments, he reached forward and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards one of the exits from 79’s, out onto the cold, busy streets of Corsucant.
To her credit, she did not protest, allowing herself to be led, trusting Five’s actions.
The very thought of that trust made him dizzy. How could she, this delicate, beautiful, thoughtful woman want to be with him? He was a vampire, but all accounts, a monster.
“You don’t want it,” he breathed as they finally made it into a secluded alley, away from prying eyes. She faced him, eyes searching his face with a frown, as if trying to decipher something. “It’s… it’s not what you think it is.”
“Then tell me,” she urged him, leaning back against the wall behind her, earnesty in her voice. “Tell me what it’s really like, and I can decide.”
Fives considered her words for a moment, replying with a scowl of his own.
“I’ll tell you,” he murmured slowly, “if you tell me why you asked me to drink you the second you found out I was a vampire.”
That stopped her in her tracks, her jaw clenching as she glared at Fives, finally huffing and turning her head away, relenting.
“Because I thought you were going to kill me.”
The silence between them was broken only by the omnipresent buzz of the living city around them, Five’s eyes going wide at her admission.
Reaching a hand up to her face, he traced her jaw tenderly, pulling just enough to make her turn to face him. He wished nothing more than to kiss her tears away, his arms shaking with the effort of giving her space.
“I… I was in a bad relationship,” she continued after a moment, voice thick with emotion, “and I’d gone out to… to forget. I knew, as soon as I got back, he’d… well… He’d hurt me,” she laughed bitterly, Fives frown darkening.
If he’d known, had any idea, he would have gone back with her that night and kept her safe.
“I… I’m sorry,” he offered uselessly, chest constricting when she looked away again, shaking her head.
“I thought you would drink me dry and leave me there,” she swallowed, tears spilling down her cheeks as she met Five’s gaze again, “and it would all be over. No more pain, no more humiliation, no more suffering. Only… you didn’t. You were gentle, even when you fed. You treated me like… like a person. Like I was worth something. So… I came back.”
Her explanation left Fives reeling, his entire focus on her. Of all of the things he thought he might hear from her tonight, this was not even remotely close to his guesses.
“Cyare,” he breathed, his other hand now travelling to her face, both moving to bring her in for a tender kiss. She whimpered against his lips, her own hands grabbing at his waist, pulling him flush to her.
Their kiss was different this time, the tang of her tears mixing with saliva as their tongues danced in unison, Five’s hands pulling hers above her head, pinning her against the wall. One leg slipped between her thighs, pressing his knee against her.
The whimper she released into his mouth was divine, swallowed down by him as she rocked herself against his thigh, seeking friction.
Finally breaking the kiss, Fives pulled back with lust blown eyes, his fangs bared now as he panted for breath.
“There’s no going back from this,” he warned her, deathly serious as she gazed up at him, completely vulnerable. “True star sunlight will kill you, you’ll need to feed like I do, and you could live for centuries. You’ll watch everything you know and love crumble to dust around you, and there’ll be nothing you can do to stop it.”
“The only thing I’ve ever cared for is you,” she gasped out, arching her neck, giving Fives a perfect view of her pulse point. “I have no family, my job is dead-end. I’ve been working just to afford to come to meet you. There’s nothing left for me. Only you.”
Fives let out a guttural groan, fighting the urge to simply sink his teeth into her there and then.
“Mesh’la,” he chastised her gently, “I need to be sure. If I turn you, you’re bound to me. We’ll be bonded. I can only ever turn one person, you have to be sure. I couldn’t live with you hating me for eternity.”
Her eyes widened at his admission, fingers clenching against his hand where he still held them above her head, his palm dwarfing her slender wrists.
“I want you, Fives,” she managed, almost choking on his name as his other hand trailed down her breasts, teasing at her nipples, “I’ve wanted this since the moment we met. I need you, for as long as you’ll have me.”
That was all the encouragement Fives needed, a shiver of arousal pulsing through his body.
“Forever is a long time, cyare.”
She could only gasp as he shifted his leg away and unbuckled his belt with ease, black jeans pulled down just enough to expose his thick, leaking cock.
“Good,” she breathed, letting out a whimpering moan as his fingers slipped up her thigh, dragging one leg over his hip before moving to her core, gently tugging her panties to one side and lining the head of his cock up to her entrance.
“Last chance,” he offered, eyes locked on hers for what felt like an eternity. She looked utterly debauched already, pupils blown wide with lust, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
“Make me yours.”
They both moaned in unison as Fives slid inside her, the delicious friction of his cock against her insides bringing a new level of pleasure to her, one she’d never felt before. He was thicker than anyone she’d ever had before, her walls fluttering around him as he bottomed out, wrapping his free hand into her hair, tugging her head to the side.
The absolute euphoria that spread through every cell of her body when he sank his fangs into her, piercing the vein in her neck and letting her very life flow against his tongue was like nothing she could ever have described.
The intensity of a lightning strike, the pleasure of a well known lover, the force of a tsunami, it was overwhelming in the most primal way.
“F-Fives, oh, m-maker,” she managed, chest drawing in desperate, shuddering breaths. His lips sealed around the bite, sucking deeply as he fucked up into her, his other hand releasing hers above her head to grab at her waist, lifting her up against him.
She wrapped her legs around his waist without hesitation, her own hands raking down his back as he drank from her, desperate for every last drop.
Her head span, desire and pleasure mixing together to make everything hazy and unimportant. She could feel her heart slowing, the chill of the night seeping into her as Fives continued to fuck her deeply, moaning into her neck as he rolled his hips, relishing in the way she clenched around him.
Finally, as the world began to fade for her, Fives licked at her neck, lathing his tongue over the wound, and she found his wrist pressed against her mouth, the sweet, metallic tang of his blood filling her senses, his essence dribbling over her lips.
“Drink, my love,” he urged her as he bucked against her, drawing more moans from those beautiful lips, “have me. Become mine.”
He didn’t need to ask her again. Her mouth latched onto his wrist, sucking greedily at the wound on his wrist, laking all he had to offer her. Fresh pleasure rushed through Five’s body, his essence mixing with hers, the exchange of life, the awakening of a new part of her.
She felt it too, the absolute bliss, her body bucking and writhing against his, orgasm after orgasm coursing through her as she drank, her body changing, cooling, growing in strength.
Fives pulled his wrist away as he spilled inside her, caught off guard by the crest of his pleasure. Crashing their mouths together, they drank in the taste of each other, Five’s seed coating her insides, held in as he rocked them through the afterglow.
Caught once more by the intensity of it all, she let out a whimper against his lips, almost collapsing into his arms as exhaustion took over, a feeling he remembered all too well from his own turning.
“Easy, cyare,” he cooed, wincing in sympathy as he withdrew from her, hands steady on her waist, supporting her, “you’re going to feel weak for a while.”
“F-Fives, I, I l-love you,” she breathed, oblivious to the way his eyes flashed in delight, yellow orbs shining in the darkness.
“And I love you, mesh’la. I’m going to take you home, to our home, now. We will rest and wake together, and you can feed again. Then, I will show you the world through your new eyes.”
“P-Please, F-Fives. Thank, thank you. You’re all I, all I want.”
Fives couldn’t fight the soppy grin that lilted his lips as he quickly redressed himself and picked her up bridal style, his touch tender and comforting.
“You have me, cyare. Forever.”
#star wars#tcw#star wars the clone wars#arc trooper fives#tcw fives#halloween#Halloween writing challenge#fives x reader#clone wars#clone thirsting#clone trooper fives#x reader fanfiction#Vampire Fives#Vampire AU#Monster AU#SW fanfiction#TCW fan fiction#Fives my beloved#daniwrites
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