#Claims of him being turned soft don’t make sense to me because he’s been chasing butterflies the whole time! He was under Odalia s thumb

[teethbomb]

alador blight fan mood board

[abhorsenslives]

"I asked because of your choice of words. You speak like you're expecting punishment for some kind of sin." Marianne's gaze lingered on James, her voice soft but pointed. She didn’t know much about him, except that he was grieving the loss of his wife, and that grief seemed to weigh heavier than anything else.

James’ experience with the town was, by far, the most painful one she had encountered. As she continued rummaging through cupboards and drawers, her attention was still on him, ready to listen to whatever he was willing to share.

After combing through the kitchen, Marianne was certain of two things: there was nothing useful here, but the room was at least safe. No monsters, no hidden exits or entrances. Just the door they came through. She turned back to James, leaning against the counter, and gave him her full attention, her gaze locking with his.

As James spoke about the people he had met in the town, Marianne nodded here and there, encouraging him to continue. One thing became clear: all of them were burdened by great emotional pain, each carrying the weight of their own trauma. But their experiences weren’t uniform. Not everyone sought punishment, nor did they all seem to feel the same crushing guilt that James did.

"If this town feeds on strong emotions, they just need to be negative ones," she mused aloud. "Eddie and Angela—they don’t sound like they were after the same thing you are. They didn’t feel the same way you do, did they?" Her thoughts drifted, trying to make sense of why Silent Hill had drawn her in.

As if he could read her mind, James asked why she was there. Marianne sighed, her frustration bleeding into her voice. "To be honest, I don’t know." She hesitated, then continued, "My father died a few days ago. It was—still is—painful, but I knew it was coming. I prayed every night that he’d survive the surgery, but... deep down, I was prepared for the worst." She broke eye contact for a moment, her gaze dropping to the floor. "At least I got to say goodbye. Perks of being a medium, I guess." Her voice was bitter, despite her words. Helping others pass on was one thing, but when it came to Jack, she hadn’t been ready.

"Even though it hurt, it wasn’t traumatizing. Not in the way this place seems to demand." She crossed her arms, trying to comb through her memories for any hint of why the town had pulled her in. "My life wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t bad enough to make me hate the world." She paused, eyes distant. "The only thing I can think of is... my memory."

Her voice grew flat, emotionless. "I can't remember much after my father's funeral. It’s all a blur until I ended up here. Whenever I try to force it, I get this blinding headache, and I only see fragments—random flashes that make no sense."

Silence settled between them as she pushed herself to recall more, her face contorting in pain as she tried to break through the fog in her mind. "I... I remember someone calling me, asking me to meet them somewhere." But where? Was it here? Silent Hill? "The place was falling apart," she continued, her eyes narrowing as she struggled to piece it together. "There was a little girl—she wasn’t alive. And... something was chasing me..." She winced, a sharp pain spiking through her head. Her hand instinctively went to the healing wound near her temple. "The last thing I remember was the sound of a gunshot."

Marianne let out a shaky breath, as if she had been holding it the whole time. "That’s all I have. I don’t know why I’m here, except that I must have followed someone’s call. He claimed to know me, and... shared something so personal, I couldn’t dismiss him as a prank." Her frustration was palpable, her voice edged with a mix of anger and helplessness. Being stuck in this hellish town without knowing why gnawed at her, made worse by the fact that she couldn't even trust her own memories.

It was a loaded question, and he's not sure how to answer at first. Religious? The word feels foreign to him now, something distant, like it belongs to a time before everything fell apart. Back when he believed in things, before guilt swallowed him whole. His fingers tighten around the flashlight as he considers her question.

" I wouldn't say I am, " he finally admits, his voice subdued. " Not anymore. But...I guess this place makes you think about things like that. Guilt, punishment, they've been on my mind a lot since I got here. Feels like Silent Hill is testing me, like it's forcing me to...atone. " The word feels heavy, like he's dragging it up from the depths of his soul. It's hard to know where the town's influence ends and where his own mind begins. Maybe he deserves this. Maybe that's why he's here.

As Marianne speaks about her neighbor and the strange, cyclical nature of this place, something shifts in him. She's not wrong. This place, it's like it's toying with him, offering glimmers of hope only to snatch them away the moment he reaches for them. Over and over again, Silent Hill has dangled the promise of salvation, only to twist it into something far worse. The plant analogy strikes him, not just in its simplicity, but in its cruelty. A sick game where the outcome is always the same; suffering.

" It's cruel, isn't it? " He says quietly, almost to himself. " Silent Hill knows exactly how to make you think you've found peace...just to tear it apart. You think maybe, just maybe, you'll get what you want, what you need. And then it all crumbles. " His eyes meet hers, and for a moment, he sees something reflected in them: pain. Loss. Maybe they're not so different after all.

Her story about her father draws him in, a flicker of shared grief passing between them. He knows what it feels like to lose someone to illness, the slow, agonizing process of watching them fade. It's like drowning in slow motion. But Silent Hill's attempt to recreate her father, it sends a chill down his spine. He wonders if the town ever made a mistake like that with him, if there were moments when it slipped, showing its hand too soon.

As they step into the kitchen, the musty, decaying air clings to him like a second skin. He watches her move, noticing the wound on her head, fresh but healing. It's a stark reminder that even survivors bear their scars, both inside and out. She may be strong, but this place has touched her, too.

" The people I've met, " he begins, his voice low as he leans against the counter. " Some of them didn't even seem real. Others...they were broken, like me. " His mind drifts back to the ones who wandered these streets, lost souls, like ghosts themselves. " Eddie was one of them. He was unhinged. Something snapped in him a long time ago. I think Silent Hill brought out the worst in him. He kept talking about how everyone was laughing at him, how he had to prove he wasn't weak. He shot a man just to feel in control. "

The memory of Eddie's wild, desperate eyes flashes in his mind, and he feels a familiar chill. " Then there was Angela. She had her own demons. Silent Hill was different for her. The things she saw weren't what I saw. She kept saying it was burning, but I didn't see any flames. Just more fog. "

His voice grows softer as he continues. " She didn't make it. None of them did. " The weight of that realization settles over him again, the grim reminder that this place has no mercy. " I think we all come here for different reasons. Guilt, grief...whatever it is, Silent Hill finds it and uses it against you. But in the end, we're all the same. We're all broken in one way or another. "

There's a long pause. " What about you? " He asks, his eyes drifting back to the wound on her head. " What happened to you before you got here? "

[samstree]

A Study in Blushing

In which Jaskier makes a surprising discovery and decides to test it out.

(tooth rotting fluff, blushing geralt, soft jaskier, love confessions, kissing, winter at kaer morhen, rated teen, 3000 words)

Also, I know witchers can't blush in canon but seriously we should all know better.

read on AO3

“Gods damn it, bard! I know Geralt tolerates all your shit because he’s in love with you, but you gotta put things back where they belong!”

Lambert grumbles something more all the while putting the training swords back on the shelf, and Jaskier’s mind stops.

The world zeroes in on the words he’s in love with you and suddenly Jaskier can’t form words.

“W...What did you—”

“I said—” Lambert throws down the last one with a clunk. “—the swords go back on the shelf!”

“Geralt...is in love with me?” Jaskier breathes, unbelieving.

Lambert pauses, “Don’t you know?”

“No...?”

“Fuck. Pretty boy can’t get his head out of his ass and now I have to suffer.”

With that, Lambert tries to shoulder past Jaskier but the bard is having none of it. “No!�� he puts a hand on Lambert’s chest. “Don’t even think about it. How? Since when? And how do you know?”

Lambert mumbles something unintelligible, before sighing long-sufferingly. “It’s too obvious, Buttercup.”

“How is it obvious? Does Geralt walk around with the words ‘I’m smitten with my bard and all the grumpy face is faked’ written on his forehead? How, pray tell, is it obvious?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Lambert, the bastard, raises an eyebrow in amusement. “Did you truly not know?”

“No!”

Jaskier is so close to grabbing Lambert by the collar just to shake some answers out of him, and finally, the youngest wolf takes pity on him.

“He looks at you differently when he thinks you are doing something cute. He trips over his words after you call him sweet names. The worst of it all—he blushes any time you are close. Blushes, like a fucking maiden. Urgh, I’m gonna throw up.”

“Oh,” Jaskier deflates, “Witchers blush?”

“See for yourself.” Lambert rolls his eyes, walking past Jaskier with a few long strides. “And put the swords back!”

 ~~

Jaskier decides to test it out, because there’s no way Geralt is in love with him.

Loving him as a friend, sure, why not? Despite what ignorant folks claim about witchers, Jaskier knows by experience that Geralt has a heart bigger and more capable of love than most. But Geralt being in love with Jaskier? Like, he-wants-to-kiss-him in love with him? No way.

Blushing because of him? Ha! More like in Jaskier’s wildest dreams.

Although that would be really cute.

“Pass me the salt, honey?” Jaskier reaches out a hand to the other end of the table, and Geralt passes the salt without thinking.

Hmm.

No tripping over words.

“Thank you, dear heart.”

He’s putting as much sweetness in his voice as possible and Geralt is…normal. His eyebrows are raised to the roof, and there’s a faint smile by the corners of his eyes. But that’s just how Geralt is…right? He’s home and he’s relaxed, he smiles with his eyes rather than his lips, and it’s got nothing to do with Jaskier.

Jaskier chews, staring at Geralt subtly.

Not subtle enough.

“Something on my face?”

“No—” Jaskier chokes, hacking like a fool and tipping sideways. “Just—too much salt.”

Geralt scoffs, the faint smile turning into a brief grin, and hands over a cup of water.

Jaskier wants the ground to swallow him whole.

 ~~

The snow is terrible.

The whole keep is freezing like an ice cube, and Jaskier has to blow on his hands from time to time just to function in the library. He’s the lucky one, in the grand scheme of things. The witchers still need to go outside to fix up the walls and tend to the animals.

Geralt hasn’t been back in a while.

Jaskier puts down the quill he’s been chewing anxiously and rushes out the door—

And bumps right into Geralt’s chest.

“Sweet Melitele, that’s a lot of snow!” Jaskier spits out the snow knocked into his mouth, before looking at Geralt properly. “Oh, you’re hurt.”

The cut on Geralt’s eyebrow is a small one, but Jaskier worries nonetheless. Geralt doesn’t look impressed, only walks straight towards the small medkit sitting on a shelf.

“Repairment has to wait. The wind is bad.” Geralt grunts, trying to touch the wound and missing by a mile.

“Here, let me.”

Jaskier takes the salve from Geralt’s slightly shaking hands and pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket. Geralt is frowning so hard he can crack a walnut with those eyebrows.

“Relax,” Jaskier murmurs, blowing gently at the cut while dabbing at the blood. Upon deeming it clean enough, he applies a scoop of the salve that smells of celandine and mint. “Don’t move. It’ll only hurt a bit.”

Geralt keeps shying away from Jaskier’s ministration so he has no choice but to wrap his other hand around Geralt’s jaw, which manages to still him instantly.

“There,” Jaskier smiles. “Shouldn’t need anything more. Your witcher healing will kick in soon.”

Geralt tilts his head with that soft look in his eyes. “My thanks. Wouldn’t have survived without you.”

“No shit! Who goes out in a storm like this one? If you ask me, Vesemir is too tough on you. Look at you…” Jaskier coos, taking Geralt’s hands. “You are like a popsicle, dear heart.”

He tries to rub some heat back into Geralt’s freezing hands, his skin dry and rough. There’s still some hand cream left in Jaskier’s room. Maybe he can fetch it later. Geralt needs to take care of his hands better when his living depends on them.

Geralt groans, looking away. The frames of his ears are beet red too; he must have been outside without a hat for all this time. Jaskier wants to cover them with his warm palms, only to have his hands batted away.

“No, there’s—I’m fine,” Geralt mumbles. If Jaskier didn’t know better, he’d think the way Geralt avoids his eyes is a result of shyness. The bard can snort at the ridiculous idea and stubbornly presses his hands over Geralt’s ears.

Oh.

His ears are red because they are so warm, not cold

Now that they are standing so close, only a hand’s breadth away, Geralt looks stunned, his eyes dilating, only leaving a ring of gold around those dark pupils. There’s even a layer of pink dusting over his pale cheeks.

A blushing witcher.

Oh, this is interesting.

“Geralt, sweetie?” Jaskier husks, lowering his voice especially on the pet name. “Are you warm enough?”

“Um, sure…not cold.”

And he watches as Geralt’s mind ceases to work in front of his eyes, the blush deepening. It’s still a subtle thing. No wonder Jaskier has missed it all this time. Calloused hands wrap around Jaskier’s wrists, and the bard finally relents, letting go.

If he spends the rest of the day sitting at the desk with a quill in hand, thinking about the way Geralt’s skin feels against his and the warmth of his cheeks, nobody needs to know.

 ~~

Jaskier doesn’t know what to do with this piece of new information.

Geralt does blush.

Because of him.

He tries to repeat the experiment. Just to be sure, he tells himself. And every time it yields the same results. As soon as he gets into Geralt’s space, the witcher either stumbles through his words or gets all flustered all over. The fondness is there too, just in a very Geralt and very unnoticeable manner, soft and almost smiling.

Jaskier is so drunk on power.

The only thing left is to tell Geralt that he loves him too. That he’s also in love in love with him, as in an I-also-want-to-kiss-you kind of way, and then… they can finally kiss!

Oh, just inwardly rehearsing the scene makes Jaskier dizzy, and somehow he ends up smiling to himself when he’s so deep in thoughts planning the conversation, once even in front of company.

Lambert throws him a side-eye and a disgusted grunt, but Jaskier can’t care less.

He finds the perfect night, and even takes a sip of White Gull from Eskel’s cup just to calm his nerves.

And he realizes too late that, perhaps, the strongest witcher brew might be a mistake.

The effect is stronger than he anticipated, and Jaskier is giggling through the fog in his mind within mimutes, somehow ending up on Geralt’s lap, draped over his shoulder in a heap of soft, pliant mess.

He rests his temple against Geralt’s and nearly tips backward if not for the strong arm that catches him by the waist.

“Oops, thank the gods I have my big witcher here!” Jaskier runs the tips of his fingers across Geralt’s stubbles. It tickles, and the blush is back, unmistakably, since Geralt is as sober as the day. “I’d fall over on my butt without you! And falling over doesn’t look good before saying important things, does it?”

Huh, he’s said it out loud.

“Saying what things?”

Well, if it’s out there…

“Where do I start again? Right of course, with how beautiful you look when you’re like this!”

His fingers move to tuck the curtain of white hair behind Geralt’s ears. No matter how much Jaskier loves it when Geralt wears his hair down, he needs to look into those amber eyes without obstruction. The molten gold gleams with surprise and Jaskier wants to drown in it.

“I’m not…” Geralt splutters, before closing his mouth with a pop. The flush is stretching down his neck now, and Jaskier chases it with a hand.

“You are!” he insists petulantly. “You are blushing and it’s beautiful. Adorable too! I wouldn’t know if Lambert hadn’t told me—” he burps. “—um, everything.”

“Told you what?”

The alarm in Geralt’s voice should wake Jaskier up immediately, but alas, the White Gull is no joke.

“Shh!” he stage-whispers, “It’s a secret! Don’t tell Geralt! I need to do it right!”

Jaskier lets out a happy sound and leans into the comforting embrace that he loves so much. Under his fingers, he can feel heat still gather under Geralt’s skin, making him look equally annoyed and fond.

“You are not making sense, Jask.”

“Nothing about you makes sense either, but I’m here. And ready.” Jaskier smiles and presses a chaste kiss on Geralt’s cheekbone, humming another happy sound.

Kissing Geralt is nice, gives Jaskier all the fuzzy feelings.

But somehow, that was also the wrong thing to do, because Geralt has gone stiff under Jaskier’s body. The next thing he knows, the witcher is struggling to untangle their limbs and leaving him empty and cold.

“Don’t…do this,” he murmurs, upset. “Just…don’t.”

The anguish the seeps through Geralt’s voice somehow manages to get through the muddy cloud in Jaskier’s mind.

“Wait, what?” Jaskier rights himself on unsteady feet, but his witcher is long gone. Eskel and Lambert are still nursing their tankards by the fire, and Jaskier wobbles past them without a care. He needs to find Geralt, who apparently charged right out of the great hall and into the cold night.

The heavy wooden doors open and Jaskier is hit with the unrelenting wind. The snow has stopped and partially melted, and frozen all over again. It’s the worst kind. Jaskier takes his steps with caution but still, it’s too slippery.

Okay. Mind. Clear. He needs it to be.

“Geralt?” he calls out, churning with anxiety. “Geralt, where are you?”

Damn his witcher speed. Now Jaskier is walking in the dark and freezing his balls off without an ounce of idea where Geralt might be. Oh, the stalls. Roach must be the first thought Geralt has when he needs to talk. Jaskier shudders, hugging his doublet tighter to fend off the wind and searches for the stalls blindly.

“Geralt, are you—ow!”

He walks right into a pillar and falls on his butt. Before Jaskier can register the pain, a pair of hands are picking him up by the armpits and he stumbles into Geralt’s embrace.

There’s a familiar sizzle of Igni, and the torch by the stalls is roaring with life.

“What are you doing out here?” A coat is tossed over Jaskier’s shoulders and he’s ushered back towards the building.

“Looking for you, you idiot!” Jaskier squawks, albeit grateful for the thick fur coat. A few more minutes he would lose all feelings in his toes. “Running into the night like this, who knows what can happen to you!”

“So you followed me out drunk and with no coat and I’m the idiot? Gods, I don’t know why I even…”

The doors creak open and there’s light and warmth and the smell of mead, but Jaskier’s heart sinks.

“I don’t know why you even bother too,” Jaskier muses, suddenly feeling like a scolded child.

Geralt steers Jaskier past the other wolf witchers and straight into his room, where the heat feels like a furnace on Jaskier’s frozen fingers—Geralt has been secretly tending to Jaskier’s fire for weeks after the human came down with a cold upon arrival at the keep. He’s too good to Jaskier.

“You are too good to me.”

“And you are a pain in the ass.”

Geralt sits Jaskier down in front of the fire rather grumpily, before joining him and pulling the coat even tighter. He’s still mad, just a smidge, but the droop of his eyes speaks more of sadness.

“Hey, talk to me,” Jaskier coaxes, squeezing Geralt’s knee in reassurance. Whatever argument coming their way, he can’t stand Geralt being sad.

“How drunk are you?”

“Not very.” If Geralt walking out hadn’t put Jaskier out of his daze, the wind sure finished the job. “White gull passes quickly. Hmm, who would have thought…”

“I need to tell you something.”

“But I need to tell you something too! It’s important.”

“Let me go first?”

The plead comes out in a whisper, and who is Jaskier to reject Geralt like this, wide-eyed and earnest?

“I never meant for you to know, and certainly not on a night like this, but Jaskier…” Geralt heaves out a breath, determined and so so brave. Jaskier is drawn closer to Geralt’s body like a magnet, ready to soothe, to meet him halfway. “I am in love with you.”

“Geralt.”

“I know you don’t feel the same, and it’s okay. You make a living singing about loving. Hell, you make a living simply by loving. Music, adventures, people, so many people. It’s okay that your heart is too big for me. But, Jask, I can’t take it anymore.”

“I don’t…not…”

“You flirt with people. You…touch them and kiss them and praise them. It’s okay. It’s the way you are. I understand that when you do the same with me it doesn’t mean anything more, but, Jaskier, I need you to stop.”

“Oh,” Jaskier breathes. “Do you hate it? I thought…differently.”

The smile that tugs at Geralt’s lips can only be described as crestfallen.

“The opposite. I love it too much. I’ll always want more. Always. I’m greedy like this.”

The guilt weighing down on Geralt’s shoulders is not a good sight, a personal offense to Jaskier. His hand reaches out on its own volition, tilting Geralt’s chin up so their gazes meet. The blush is back.

What did Jaskier do in his past life to deserve this man?

“That’s what I was going to say.”

“That you are greedy?”

The frown remains on Geralt’s face, and Jaskier smooths it with the pad of his thumb.

“No. That I am in love with you. Gods, for someone who’s not a bard, you sure know how to steal someone’s line from the beginning,” Jaskier chuckles. “I’ve been trying to tell you that I return your feelings. But alas, you know the coward that I am.”

“You are…not,” he protests, blinking.

The way Geralt defends him on instinct only makes Jaskier’s insides melt into a pool of fuzziness.

“In this, yes. How I fucked up so bad is a mystery. That’s just me I guess, trying to love you but ending up hurting you, making you feel like I’m stringing you along like anyone else.”

“I’m not?”

“No, you oaf.” Jaskier bops his nose. “You are the most important person in the world for me. This is the most important thing in the world to me! I love you and I love it when you blush. Also, I’d very much like to kiss you, if you want it too.”

Jaskier bites into his lips and watches as Geralt’s gaze drops to them, the pink of his cheeks spreading into the most gorgeous crimson. “I want to. Kiss you, that is.”

“Good.”

Jaskier wets his lips with a peak of the tongue and watches the same gesture returned. Even if the alcohol has left his system, the intoxication remains, only this time because of Geralt’s slightly dilated pupils and quickened breathing. He leans in, not being able to resist—

“Did you say ‘return my feelings’?” Geralt dodges away, looking incredulous. “Jaskier, did you know? And what was that about blushing?”

“Um…” Now Jaskier is the one to splutter. Luckily, he has a trick up his sleeves or two that can make sure Geralt forgets about every last thought there is.

Jaskier lunges forward and tackles his witcher onto the soft rug and kisses him within an inch of his life, deepening it like there’s no tomorrow. Judging by the dazed look on Geralt’s face as he comes up for air, the method is working.

Cupping Geralt’s rosy cheeks, Jaskier croaks proudly, “Tell you later?”

“We have all the later we need.” Geralt’s smile is blinding, and equally mischievous. Without a moment of pause, Jaskier ends up the one flipped onto his back and being kissed until he shudders with pleasure.

Jaskier has to thank Lambert properly one day, considering Geralt will certainly go after him with a vengeance.

For now, having Geralt on top of him and slowly melting into a contented mess should be enough. If he’s allowed, Jaskier vows silently, he would really like to make Geralt blush for him for the rest of his life.

~~

Jaskier will totally make it his life's mission to tease Geralt endlessly and see his beautiful blush. 🥰🥰

On another note, I challenged myself to write 2000 words exactly, and this ended up, um, 3000 words exactly. I’ll count it as a win anyway ;)

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

[love-archon]

Shoulder Angel

Summary: Genshin boys as your guardian angel and demon ^^ 

Zhongli and Childe

• Morax is literally the name of a demon.

• He appears before you on the eve of your contract, sharply dressed in elegant (and form-fitting) clothes, and calmly states his name and titles: a president of hell, overseer of thirty demonic legions, and provider of knowledge of astrology and stone. 

• There's a long silence after he's done, as though he's waiting for something... or someone. Then Morax awkwardly clears his throat, and that's when the angel comes crashing in. 

• "Be not afraid!" he announces, picking himself up from the floor. You aren't yet sure why you should be afraid of a skinny white boy with orange hair, but you suppose it's just something all angels say. 

• You didn't get the angel's name, but when your friends come over and see the two very attractive men in your house that previously weren't there before, he's quick to spin a lie about him being a family friend of yours, Ajax, who's staying with you for an indefinite amount of time. 

• Morax is less accustomed to lying on the spot, latching onto Ajax's story and introducing himself as Zhongli... another family friend. Who also coincidentally happens to be staying with you, yes. 

• To be honest, Zhongli is nicer to hang out with than Ajax. He is knowledgeable about many things, and recounts grand historical events as though they happened yesterday. His deep, velvety-smooth voice has you unconsciously hanging on to his every word.

• But no matter how civil and friendly he is, take care not to forget what he's really here for. Morax takes contracts seriously, and although he refuses to outright lie, he still wants you to sign the second contract- one that gives him the legal right to claim your soul when you die. 

• (Your saving grace is that even though he's not willing to play dirty, the angel certainly is).

• Meanwhile, you're pretty sure that if you make one wrong step when you're out with Ajax, he'll be fired for not protecting you properly. He's always itching for a fight or chasing the thrilling high that comes with danger some other way. But if anyone dares threaten you, he’s immediately at your side, ready to defend you if they come any closer.

• Sometimes, when his focus slips, you see his true form underneath the human glamor- hulking, plated with armor, and a pearlescent wheel for an eye- and suddenly his "be not afraid" line makes much more sense, and terrifyingly so.

• It's never visible for more than a second before Ajax is back, with his lean build and countable freckles and two eyes as blue as the deepest sea, smiling at you reassuringly and pretending nothing happened.  

• He trusts you enough to not intervene when you're around Zhongli, because as far as he's concerned, your soul might as well be in Ajax’s palm. But he still delights in tormenting the lesser demons that appear near you, drawn by Morax's power- summoning blades of holy water to easily tear them to shreds. 

• What? Just because he's a guardian angel doesn't mean he has to be nice.

Scaramouche and Kazuha

• In the window of time when summer turns to fall, and maple leaves change from green to shades of red, Kazuha comes to you. 

• Kazuha is the perfect angel. 

• He knows the hidden language of nature, guiding you away from treacherous storms and lightning strikes. Traveling with him means you can sleep safely under the stars without a care, and he's always there with a wise saying or elegant poem that reminds you to do the right thing. 

• Although he sounds a little old-fashioned when he speaks, his soft voice and gentle, kind eyes persuade you to listen anyway. 

• He's sweet and calm, but always ready to faithfully defend you from evil with his heavenly sword.

• Which is why it vexes him when there's one ancient evil, reeking of ozone, that he just can't seem to exorcise.

• You can't get a real name out of him- he's too spiteful and cunning to ever reveal it to you. It's either Balladeer, or Skirmisher, 散兵, or Scaramouche, which sounds the most like a name instead of a title. So Scaramouche is what you call him... for now. 

• He doesn't bother trying to tempt you into anything, and seems determined to hang around you only to be a nuisance. It deeply irritates Kazuha, which only encourages Scaramouche more. 

• Then one day he realizes that making you flustered isn't just fun, but also drives the angel up the walls. 

• Like a new favorite toy, he quickly figures out what gets the best reactions out of you, but is smart enough to know when to stop before he goes too far. He always does it when Kazuha does something particularly cute or nice to you, dragging your attention away from him.

• Even so, your guardian angel has faith that in the end, you'll do the right thing. 

• "I know you'll make the correct choice," Kazuha says to you, smiling gently. The fading light of the sun softens his features even more, making them shine like gold. 

• "I know you'll make the correct choice," Scaramouche mockingly drawls, and the air suddenly grows chilly and hums with static. His icy finger draws a line down your arm, making you flinch from the cold. "After all, I'm much better than that angel, right?"

Venti and Xiao

• You're thrown off at first by the angelic wings and snarling mask, respectively. But make no mistake- 

• No matter how cute he may be, Barbatos is a duke of hell, who delights in speaking in riddles and encourages you to laze around and procrastinate when you really shouldn't. He jokingly invites you to share a drink with him, and is only stopped by a firm "no" or Xiao appearing behind him with glowing green eyes and a warning growl. 

• And despite Xiao sighing in exasperation whenever he has to get you out of trouble, he always appears by your side to defend you wherever you're in danger- you only need speak his name. 

• It’s no secret that beneath his distant exterior, Xiao has a soft spot for you, and cares for your wellbeing even if the things humans do mystify him at times. 

• Surprisingly, the two of them get along with each other, when Barbatos isn't trying to pull you into one of his schemes ("Barbatos sounds so mean," he whined once, after being scolded by the both of you. "You should call me Venti instead!")

• Xiao had a different name, once, when he was forced to serve a false and evil god. He refuses to speak of it with you, so don't try, but sometimes, late at night, the illusions over his skin come undone, and you’re sad to see just how much damage has been done in his years of servitude. 

• You only know that one day, someone came along and freed him, giving him his new name. He refuses to talk about that person either, although it sounds like they're not with him anymore. 

• But being granted freedom didn’t remove the agony inflicted on him, and it was Venti’s song that saved him from being consumed by pain. He secretly dreams of being able to dance to that music again, unburdened by his debts. And although he may never admit it, being with you gives him the same lightness in his heart.

• Venti doesn't care about trying to get the upper hand on Xiao or anything. He believes that humans should always have the freedom to choose without outside influence, anyway.  

• But sometimes, just to mess with him, he transforms into what must be his real form: a tiny, fairy-like creature dressed in white. He floats around you like a ball of dandelion fluff in a spring breeze, and cutely nuzzles your cheek to make you laugh. 

• Then he throws Xiao a smug look when you're not looking, and the guardian's shaky grip on his polearm nearly makes it crack. 

[kurosukii]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

summary: your relationship is filled with nothing but teasing touches and pleasured sighs, until you tell him that you want to take it to the next level.

genre: smut, fluff, aged up au, established relationship au

warnings: 18+. virginity loss (it’s a social construct but for the sake of smut...), riding, dirty talk, fingering, face-sitting, size kink, nipple play, chest play(??), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, praise kink, unprotected sex, finger sucking, pet names (kitten)

word count: 5.8k

author’s note: koo is the loml. that’s it. (this was the hardest for me to write so far since ✨feelings✨ are involved). this is somewhat the nsfw continuation to safety net but it can still be read alone, i just referenced some things™️. (let me know if i missed any warnings!) (MINORS DNI)

° thank you so much @kurinoot for editing <33

[5:02 PM]

“if you don’t stop tickling me, i’m going to bite you!”

you squealed as you lightheartedly threatened your boyfriend. you were trying to swat his attacks away from your neck and waist as his lean body hovered over yours, but he was just too big for you to throw him off.

“i dare you to bite me, kitten. i’ll just bite you back!” he exclaimed as he raised his head from your neck, with nimble fingers still pressing on to your sides. he laughed at your dumbfounded expression and went back to blowing raspberries on your neck and tickling the dips in your waist.

you would say that you’re tired of kuroo’s childishness, but you would only be lying to yourself. you loved how he was so carefree every time the two of you were together, and you couldn’t be more grateful that kuroo was such an attentive and doting boyfriend. sure, you had your fair share of doubts and insecurities when the two of you first started dating in high school, but it was never because of him. no, it was all you and your past inhibitions. however, kuroo never fails to squash your negative thoughts to the ground.

when you would observe him, you’d remember how the two of you confessed to each other over chemistry homework and you’d just burst out laughing at how it was such a kuroo way for your feelings to be known to each other.

when he asked what made you so happy, you’d always say you and he’d end up making a face but kiss your lips softly a few moments after. those soft kisses don’t last long because they would turn into heated makeout sessions that would leave you gasping for breath.

a few weeks into dating, kuroo admitted to you that he was planning on confessing by making a nonchalant comment here and there and leave you to nitpick what he said. he claimed that it wasn’t to ‘disrupt’ your strong friendship and ‘startle’ you, but you know him like the back of your hand—he was just as nervous as you were.

now that you’re a year or two into dating, being with him just felt so right, like all the puzzle pieces fell into place and formed the beautiful jigsaw of a relationship that you have with him. at first, you were worried that your dynamic with him would change because you weren’t just best friends anymore; you were now involved with each other romantically.

when you told kuroo about it, he would always encourage you to tell him what you were feeling. he would just flick your forehead and tell you that you have nothing to worry about and he was right.

you wouldn’t change a thing about your relationship with kuroo tetsurou, except for one thing.

you have yet to ‘consummate’ your relationship, and it it may seem crazy to others if they knew how long the two of you have been dating (not that it’s any of their business), but you haven’t reached that part of your relationship yet. 

the farthest you two have gone was oral, so you knew that it wasn’t because you didn’t find each other desirable. you used to believe the saying ‘i could eat you for hours’ was sort of an exaggeration but now you can confidently admit your mistake and say that kuroo puts that saying to shame because he has spent hours buried between your legs perfecting his oral ‘techniques’. 

more often than not, you would always find yourself begging him to stop eating your pussy because it ached and your clit felt so numb. you’ve always wondered if his jaw and tongue were made of iron steel and he would just laugh at you before diving back in, making you squirt all over his face for the nth time that day. 

you’d also return the favor, of course, but you’ve always had a difficult time fitting his entire cock in your mouth because he was not only long, he was also achingly thick. you can’t even wrap your fingers around his shaft and he would always only fit halfway through your mouth, but he didn’t care because after cumming down your throat, he’d immediately lay you on your back and devour your cunt again.

that’s why you were so fucking annoyed because you knew that you wanted to fuck each other, so what was stopping the both of you?

well, it was your stubbornness. you wanted kuroo to initiate the next step but he would always tease you. you’d think that after years of pining for you, he’d jump at the chance to fuck you, but no, he stayed a saint (if you disregard the moments he made you orgasm multiple times).

if there’s one thing you disliked about kuroo now, it was his immense self-control and penchant for teasing you, so after weeks of thinking, you decided to finally raise the white flag and surrender.

although, it wasn’t exactly a defeat because it meant that you were about to finally get your pussy fucked by your boyfriend’s big fat cock for the first time. maybe if–

“what are you thinking about, kitten?” kuroo interrupted your dirty train of thought. his usual bed hair was even messier from playing around with you and his plump lips formed into a pout because you stopped reacting to him a few minutes ago.

fuck. should i tell him? what if he thinks it’s too fast? but we’ve literally covered almost all of the bases– “nothing!” you said in a high-pitched voice, your brain short-circuiting from your ravaging thoughts. kuroo narrowed his hazel eyes at you, clearly aware that you were lying.  

“tell me, kitten. i told you that you should never hesitate to tell me what you’re feeling, right?” he raised a dark eyebrow at you. you visibly gulped as your face flushed in embarrassment. never mind the fact that this man has already seen all of you, so acting like a virginal prude seems out of bounds now. well, technically i am still a virgin so–

you were broken out of your stupor when you felt kuroo shift above you. he was hovering over your body, with long legs at either side of your hips as he rose to all fours. his large and warm hands pinned your wrists to the bed as he leaned over you until his lips were ghosting over yours. he licked his lips and you knew he did that on purpose so you could feel his tongue slightly swipe against yours.

your heart was beating fast as his clean and fresh scent invaded your senses. he smirked at you, cat eyes narrowing with a mischievous glint. he could feel your pounding heartbeat and he hoped to the heavens that you couldn’t feel his own because he was just as excited and giddy about you as you are about him.

even after going through every year and life experience together, his heart and mind would never cease to be mesmerized by you. he knew you were endgame the moment you tripped over your own feet and fell to his chest in shoujo style. your friendship practically started from him teasing you about it, and soon enough you became best friends.

now he can finally call you his and you can call him yours. although in his mind he knew that he would forever be yours, even if you didn’t end up together, but that dejected thought vanished when the both of you crossed that bridge and finally came clean with your feelings for each other. he didn’t want to admit it, but every time he’d answer a chemistry homework, he’d smile like a fool and reminisce that fateful day in high school.

because of that chemistry homework, he could enjoy kissing you freely and shamelessly. he also now has the privilege to taste your pussy with his skilled tongue, and his favorite view in the whole world is probably watching your face twist in pleasure as you pull his hair, rocking your slick cunt on his face as you chase your orgasm. he especially loved it when you would beg him to stop but your hips would still move and your eyes would be pleading for him to go on until your pussy gets numb or until you squirt all over his face.

he wanted to fuck you badly, but he was just so patient and he loved torturing himself and you. he also wanted you to take the initiative, just like how he wanted you to confess first, and it wasn’t because he wanted to be chased (he kind of likes it though) but because you called the shots in the relationship. sure, he’s the one that makes you scream his name in pleasure but that’s because you want him to. he wants to hear it from your pretty lips, and he wants to hear you say that you want him to bury himself deep inside of you.

you two spent minutes looking at each other, studying each other’s features and with hearts beating to one rhythm until kuroo closed his eyes and leaned down to bridge the small gap between your lips.

your eyes fluttered shut, sighing into the warmth of his mouth as his tongue licked your lips. he tasted like strawberries and chocolate which made his kisses ten times sweeter. his fingers from your wrists went to your hands and weaved in between them. you kissed him with fervor until your clothes felt too hot on your heated skin.

he lifted his head, teeth nibbling your lower lip as he slowly pulled away. he stole another quick kiss before he rested his forehead on yours as he breathed deeply and smiled.

“i love kissing you, kitten. now do you want to tell me what’s on your mind?” he questioned you as he nuzzled his nose against yours, breathing in your scent deeply. you inhaled a big breath before bluntly telling him what you were thinking,. and truth be told, there was no other way that kuroo would accept your request because he’s a tease like that.

“i want you to fuck me, tetsurou.”

he froze, stopping himself from rubbing on you like a cat before he stretched his lips into a devilish grin and teased you.

“yeah? do you want me to fuck you right now?” he asked you, his honey eyes becoming sharper as he licked his lips. you nodded at him and he tutted at you, squeezing your fingers.

“use your words, kitten. i want to hear you say it,” he said in his deep and smoky voice.

“yes, tetsu. i want you to fuck me right now!” you whined as you lifted your hips to grind against his tenting pants. kuroo just smirked at you, grinding directly against your core making you moan.

“stop teasing me, tetsu. i need you,” you whimpered as you exposed your neck to him. he straddled your waist as he unlaced your fingers to remove his shirt from his lean body. you were just salivating at the sight before you, his abs flexing while he raised his thick arms.

you couldn’t stop yourself from tracing the lines of his abs with the tips of your fingers as he shuddered at your light touch, with his spine tingling at your soft caresses. he removed your hands and laced his own between them as he kissed you harder this time. you moaned at the onslaught of his mouth as your teeth and tongue clashed.

he pulled away from your lips and he made a path of kisses along your jaw down to the sensitive skin of your neck. you moaned as you rolled your hips when he sucked on the skin, leaving a purple bruise. he kissed it before he went to the other side of your neck to give it the same attention.

once he was satisfied with the marks he left on your neck, he let go of your hands and slowly lifted your shirt off your body with a certain reverence. his eyes sparkled as he traced your soft skin. he’s seen you naked countless times, but he’ll never get used to how beautiful and ethereal you look and he never fails to let you know either.

“you’re so beautiful, kitten. i will never get used to seeing you, my precious jewel,” he said softly, lips tracing every patch of skin that’s exposed to him. your heart soared and your face flushed at his praise. he looked at you like you were a goddess and him, the worshipper.

“no bra, kitten? were you planning this the whole time?” he raised a dark eyebrow, with eyes trained on your hardening nipples. he licked his lips and lowered his head to suck one into his watering mouth. you moaned at the sensation, as your fingers combed through his soft hair. he didn’t neglect the other one, pinching and rolling it between his long fingers. you pushed his head lower to your chest as the both of you rubbed on each other.

he was moaning into your breast, tongue swirling over the hardened peak as he sucked and licked. your panties were pooling with wetness, aroused by kuroo’s wet and hot mouth. you cried loudly when he simultaneously pinched and bit your nipples before lifting his head and staring at the swollen skin.

his hands slowly traveled down to your hips as your breathing increased in pace. he sure does love taking his sweet time, you grumbled in your head. you felt scrutinized by him, and it made you want to cover yourself up, but the way his hands were ghosting over your skin, touching you as if you were a delicate figurine, made you feel so desired underneath him.

he didn’t even seem to mind the growing bulge in his pants, as he was too focused and enamored by your figure. you used to feel uncomfortable at his silence during intimate moments like this, but you’ve come to realize that you always render him speechless every time you lay bare before him, and that made your ego huff in pride.

he removes your shorts and panties as his hands went lower. you lifted your hips to help him and he groaned at how the wet string from your pussy seemed to follow the path of your soon-to-be discarded bottoms.

due to your longing determination to tease him in return you raised your knees until your feet were flat on the bed and spread them until you felt your lower lips separate with a squelching sound. you softly moaned at the growing wetness in your pussy.

kuroo’s plump lips were parted as he let out a low groan while he stared at his favorite meal, tongue sliding out to wet his suddenly dry mouth as he rubbed your outer thighs.

“i’ve seen your cunt tons of times but it never fails to make me speechless, kitten. your pussy is as pretty as you, fuck,” he groaned as he reached out two slender fingers to slide along your weeping slit. you clenched at the sensation, letting out a low whimper when you saw kuroo lick his fingers and released them with a pop.

you moved to widen your legs more to give him space for his broad shoulders, but before even doing so he stopped you. you were about to question him until he shushed you with a finger to your lips.

“i want to try something new. figured if we’re going to finally fuck tonight, we might as well try a few more firsts, hm?” he teased you, honey eyes glinting with mischief which made your aching body shudder. the last time he said that, you ended up cumming so much that your legs wouldn’t stop shaking for five minutes.

you raised your eyebrow at him in question before he smirked at you. your breath hitched as he leaned down to your ear. “won’t you sit on my face, kitten? ride my tongue until all your juices cover my mouth and chin?” he whispered sensually, hot breath tickling your ear as he kissed it. you moaned softly as your ears burned from the barely-there kiss.

your body is brimming with sexual frustration, blood heating up at his request. for all the times he had his mouth on you, he never really asked to switch things up and you hadn’t either. you can’t deny that your pussy tingled from the idea of him offering to be under you like that.

“what do you say kitten? think you’re up for it?” he asked you again, lips grazing the side of your ear as his smoky voice left shivers in his wake. you moaned out a yes as he kissed you, slowly this time to savor the taste of your lips before he tastes your other set.

he pulled away and gently flipped both of your bodies until he was lying flat on his back with your naked cunt directly on top of his throbbing bulge, with breasts slightly swaying at the movement. you hissed at the heat emanating from there and couldn’t stop yourself from grinding on his clothed cock.

you both moaned at the stimulation, but he stopped your hips before you could cause any more friction. “not yet, kitten. i want to eat your pussy first,” he said as he let go of your hips to place his hands behind his head, the action causing his biceps to flex which made your pussy and mouth water even more. he let out a low laugh, clearly satisfied with your reaction.

“drag your pussy up to my chest, kitten. the only time i want you to lift yourself is when you’re positioned right over my face,” he ordered you, honey eyes turning to gold as he watched your breasts heave up and down, breath quickening.

you moaned at his lewd order, hands bracing on his chest to support your weight before you dragged your wet cunt all over his torso. the position of your arms made your tits bunch together and kuroo swore he started drooling. you started moving up his body and couldn’t stop the whimpers that came out of your mouth.

fuck, i could cum just by grinding on his abs alone, you thought. the way the ridges of his abs were dragging on your clit made you lightheaded. you definitely have to try grinding on his abs until you reach your orgasm sometime soon. “next time, kitten, but not now,” kuroo groaned as he felt your wetness trail over his torso, clearly knowing what you were thinking. he’d indulge you but that wasn’t his main focus as of right now.

you were gasping and whining when you reached the top of his chest, legs weak from the unprecedented stimulation on your clit. his arms were on his sides, ready to guide your thighs on either side of his face. you lifted yourself and hovered over his face, your face flushing from the new position.

you didn’t want to completely sit on his face for fear of him suffocating so you opted to hover instead and held onto the headboard for dear life. kuroo tutted in disapproval but he let it go because either way, he was going to do what he was good at and you’d end up dropping on his face, just like he wanted.

he stared at your dripping pussy while his thumbs rubbed small circles on your thighs. his hot breaths were fanning your clenching hole as you shuddered and moaned. you could feel the ache in your thighs starting to build up from being in a squatting position but you were determined not to crush his skull.

“i’ll have you sitting on my face, kitten. hold me to that,” he promised you, voice laced with determination. that was the last thing he said before he kissed your pussy and licked a long and wet stripe from your slit to your pulsing bud.

you cried out and instinctively raised your body from the new feeling but his arms didn’t allow you to. he trapped your body in that position as he sucked your aching clit into his wet mouth. you looked into his eyes as you squeezed the headboard, breasts swaying from your sudden jerks.

“oh my god, tetsu! that’s so good!” you moaned loudly as his tongue drew figure eights around your bud. you could feel your legs starting to shake as his tongue lapped up at your clit. you swore you could feel his mouth stretch out into a smirk at your shattering resolve.

kuroo was taking his time. he wanted to see the exact moment your legs would give out and sit on his face so he could get to work. you were just being your stubborn self and he wanted to see you succumb to the pleasure he was giving you.

“keep licking my clit just like that, oh my god, yes–!” you moaned loudly, voice cracking as kuroo’s talented tongue swirled around your clit again and again. “oh yes, fuck! fuck don’t stop, don’t stop!” you whined, the words jumbling together as your legs were near giving out. you were still fighting it and kuroo decided that he was done letting you have your fun and it was time that he got down to business.

you screamed as kuroo’s mouth left your clit and plunged his tongue right into your sopping cunt, effectively making your legs crash and sit on his face. he groaned in pleasure at feeling you all over him. he ate you out with fervor, his nose rubbing your clit. your hands fell from the headboard and gripped his hair so you could grind on his tongue in your cunt.

“tetsu, fuck that’s so hot. i could feel your tongue so deep in my pussy, yesyesyes,” you threw your head back as you moaned out the last word as you rode his face. the more you rode his mouth, the louder his groans became, the more pleasure shot straight to your clit. you removed your hands from his hair and fisted the pillow on top of his head to give you more balance to ride his face.

kuroo took this opportunity to raise his arms to play with your nipples. your moans increased in volume and pitch as he tweaked and rolled the nipples in his fingers. the wet sounds of his tongue fucking your clit were making your spine tingle and body shake.

you didn’t care that you were fucking his face because your orgasm was so close. he didn’t seem to mind either because his groans increased in volume the more you used his face as a fucktoy. you raised your trembling arms to your sides as you leaned back, blissed-out face facing the ceiling as you rolled your hips around his tongue.

“i’m g-gonna cum, tetsu! fuck yes, fuck yes, i’m gonna cum, right there–!” you screamed as he pinched both of your nipples, hips moving on their own accord as you prolong your climax. you were whimpering and mumbling out nonsense as your hips slowed down, trying to catch your breath from that strong orgasm.

kuroo gently lifted you off his mouth, strings of your cum stretching out from his lips, and raised himself to lean against the headboard. he settled you on his lap over his throbbing cock as he inhaled loudly and deeply, trying to suck in as much air as he could. his swollen lips and chin were drenched in your juices. he licked as much as he could off of his face and wiped the rest with the back of his hand.

“you liked that kitten?” he asked you with a tilt to his head, midnight hair mussed up from your fingers. you scowled at him, knowing damn well you liked what he did if he made you cum that hard, he just wanted the validation.

he laughed at your reaction as he wrapped his long arms around your slightly shaking body and squeezed you. he buried his nose in your neck and nuzzled it. he was humming while planting soft kisses on the skin, teeth nipping it here and there.

how can he act like this when his cock is pulsing underneath me?

you weren’t satiated, not in the least. you wanted his cock in you and you were going to make it happen, never mind the fact that he has a monster cock. you don’t care how it’s going to happen but he’s going to fit.

you raised yourself on your knees and started pulling the string to his pants so you could free his aching cock. kuroo stopped you and you whined at him, rosy lips forming into a pout.

“i want your cock, tetsu, please. i need it to fill my pussy,” you whined at him, eyes begging for him to just put it in you. you squeezed his shoulders as you rubbed yourself on his clothed cock, your slick leaving a wet stain on his crotch. his large cock was straining against his pants, a sign that he too was burning to get inside of you.

he squeezed your hip as he tutted at you. “you need to be thoroughly prepped, kitten. i want you to be dripping everywhere before you take my cock, okay?” he said softly, warm lips meeting yours as his large fingers trailed down to reach your cunt, spreading your folds as he teased your slit with his middle finger.

you moaned into his mouth as he reached your clit, finger drawing slow circles around the aching bud while the rest of his fingers played with the wet strings that were falling out from your previous orgasm.

you moaned even louder when he inserted two thick fingers into your hole, the entrance of them making a squelching sound as your juices coated his fingers. he pumped them in and out while never leaving your lips, both of your moans mixing.

you squealed when he curled them, hitting your g-spot. he did all of that while his other hand played with your clit. your moans were being swallowed by his mouth, his tongue entwined with yours as you felt your spit mix with his.

the kiss was as messy as your pussy down there with your juices drenching his fingers. you felt his arm move faster as he pumped his fingers in and out of your weeping cunt. you pulled away from his mouth to moan into his shoulder and he took this moment to whisper in your ear.

“yeah, you really like this, huh? look how much mess you’re making, kitten. think you can take my cock after this, hm?” he asked you, tongue snaking out to lick your earlobe, his fingers scissoring inside your walls.

“yes, tetsu! i-i can take your cock, oh fuck, that feels so good!” you cried out, teeth slightly biting his shoulder.

“then cum for me,” he growled, fingers curling in that come hither motion as he pinched your clit. you screamed out your orgasm again, tears brimming in your eyes as your body shook from your second climax. kuroo softly kissed your lips as you tried to come down from your high.

he took his fingers out and brought them in between your faces while he stared at them in fascination. your cum was hanging in strings from his fingers as he placed them in his mouth and groaned at the taste. you moaned weakly watching him genuinely enjoy your juices. you watched him maintain eye contact with you while he sucked and lapped at his fingers for a minute before you started tugging on his pants again.

“eager, are we?” he teased you. you narrowed your eyes at him because he was just as eager as you. his hands were fumbling around his waistband, hips lifting so you could pull them down his legs.

your mouth watered as his thick cock bounced against his stomach. pre-cum was leaking from its swollen tip, you watched it roll down along the veins of his shaft, stopping at his balls.

he gripped it with one hand and squeezed it, groaning at the stimulation. he was so fucking long and thick that the stretch was most likely going to be uncomfortable, but you didn’t care, you’ve been so needy for his dick that you don’t care about it impaling you.

you situated yourself until you were hovering over his cockhead, lightly rubbing it against your wet slit, making the both of you moan at the new sensation.

“tell me to stop when it hurts, okay kitten? i want you to be as comfortable as possible,” he said softly, thumb slightly grazing your lips as he looked you in the eye.

“yes, tetsu,” you pecked his lips before you balanced yourself with one hand on his shoulder and gripped his cock with the other and stroked it a few times. he was breathing heavily and his hands were gently squeezing your hips.

you guided his cock at your hole and moaned when his tip entered your clenching walls. you lowered yourself onto his cock, your walls sucking him in, inch by inch.

“breathe, baby. fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, voice straining at your heat engulfing him. you were going so slowly due to his size and also because you wanted to feel every ridge on his cock around your walls.

“you’re so big, tetsu. i could feel your cock everywhere,” you moaned long and hard, nails leaving crescent moons on his shoulders. he squeezed your hips in response, muscles tight with tension as he fought to pull you down on his lap.

you both cried out when you finally sheathed his entire cock in your pussy. the stretch felt uncomfortable but soon gave way to pleasure the more your cunt clenched and unclenched around him.

kuroo groaned at the feeling, his eyes silently begging you to move, or else he’d start jerking his hips and start drilling your pussy. you raised your trembling thighs off his lap, cunt dragging along his shaft until only his tip remained inside of you.

you mewled loudly as you dropped yourself on him, his cock making a squelching sound as he made contact with your wetness. “shit, kitten. you want my cock that much?” he moaned, lifting your hips again as he pulled you back down on his cock before he set up a rhythm. you wrapped your arms around his neck as he moved your body, moaning in his neck as the slapping of your skin on his ring in your ears.

“f-fuck t-tetsu! oh my god, your cock’s stretching my pussy–yes!” you bit your lip as you moaned from the pleasure. you raised your head to look at his face, his pink lips parted and breaths panting as he took control of your hips. your breasts were swaying with each thrust and you held on to them while kuroo groaned at your bouncing tits.

“i think about you fucking me all the time, tetsu,” you moaned breathily as you bounced up and down his cock, clit grinding against his pelvic bone. you rested your forehead on his shoulder with a loud moan as you felt every vein on his fat cock glide against your tight walls.

he threw his head back and moaned at your admission while he squeezed your hips. “yeah? tell me what you want me to do to your pussy,” he groaned, his hips thrusting up into your clenching hole. you cried, nails digging into his shoulders as his thick cock stretched you even further.

“i want you to wreck my pussy! cum in me so much that my pussy’s dripping in your cum!” you screamed as he thrust up into your cunt, cock hitting the entrance of your cervix.

“yeah? do you know how long i’ve wanted to fuck this pussy, kitten?” he growled as he flipped your bodies, with his thrusts increasing in speed now that he’s on top of you. he laced your fingers together as he delivered a hard thrust that had your pussy creaming even more around him.

“fuck, i can’t believe you’re taking all of me,” he moaned as he watched his cock disappear in your cunt. you moaned as your walls clenched even harder around him.

“your pretty little mouth can’t even fit my whole cock but your pussy is just sucking me in,” he groaned as he kissed you hard, tongue and teeth clashing against each other. his thrusts were so deep and fast that your tits were bouncing everywhere.

“f-faster t-tetsu! don’t stop please!” you begged him, legs wrapping around his waist as you closed the distance between your bodies, your hands squeezing his.

“i’m so close! oh my god yesyesyes i’m gonna cum–!” you screamed as the knot in your lower stomach uncoiled and you gushed all around him.

“your cunt is so good to me, kitten. fuck!” he moaned in your ear as he thrust one final time before his warm cum drenched your pussy. you were still moaning and whimpering when he stopped moving inside of you.

he raised his head and kissed your lips, this time with more passion. you couldn’t even move your lips with how tired you are so it was like kissing a statue, and he told you so.

“try getting fucked by a big fat cock and see if you can still move, dummy!” you breathed out. you laughed in each other’s lips, breaths mingling.

kuroo rolled over and laid down on his back, bringing you with him and laying your head down his heaving chest, where you could hear his racing heart. he smoothed out your sweaty hair and kissed the crown of your head as his thumb lazily stroked your hip. your heart was racing as fast as his while you traced small circles on his pecs. you kissed it softly and looked up at him and found that he was staring at you.

“i love you, kitten,” he said with a soft smile, honey eyes twinkling in the light of the room.

“i love you too, tetsurou,” you smiled back at him and reached up to peck his lips.

you laid your head down again and nuzzled it, eyes closing as your exhaustion finally caught up with you.

“hey, don’t fall asleep yet! i still have to clean you up!” kuroo exclaimed as he patted your cheek to keep you awake.

“ow! why did you pinch my nipple?!” kuroo pouted, whiny complaints falling from his mouth. you just laughed at him as you squeezed his cheeks in your hands.

he huffed and wrapped his arms around you, carrying you off the bed as he headed for the bathroom.

against your better judgement, round two commenced in the shower.

[7:07 PM]

[sierraraeck]

The Better Kisser

BAU x Bi!Fem!Reader

Emily x Bi!Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: After finding out that you haven’t had very many kissing experiences, the team realizes you’re the perfect candidate to judge who the best kisser on the team is.

Category: Fluff

Warnings: As you may have guessed, lots of kissing.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Just a little something that popped into my head that I just needed to write. This is technically an AU where the members of the team are Hotch, Rossi, Spencer, Penelope, Derek, Emily, JJ, Luke, and Tara. Everyone is single.

It was true. You hadn’t kissed very many people. You decided long ago that it wasn’t really in the cards for you, dating and kissing and relationships, that is, so yeah. You weren’t what one would call an ‘experienced kisser.’ Your friends had teased you for it, but you’d always shrugged it off. It wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

You’d never thought it’d be something to be grateful for either, until tonight.

It’d been a long, hard case, and everyone was dying to get out of the stupid office, and away from those stupid files, so that you could all finally relax, maybe even have some fun. You’d only been with the team for about three months, and it was like an entire whirlwind throwing you this way and that. You also hadn’t gotten to know the team too well either, considering how busy you all constantly were. Your first week on the job, they went out for drinks after a case, but you were so exhausted that you left after the first round.

There hadn’t been time, or energy, since then for the team to spend quality, relaxed time together. That’s why tonight was extra exciting.

“You’re telling me that throughout all of highschool, all of college, you haven’t kissed more than two people?” Derek asked incredulously. You couldn’t fully remember how you’d all gotten onto the subject, except that you had. You were sitting on Garcia’s squishy couch, littered with colorful pillows and all sorts of stuffed animals. Garcia had decided that instead of going out to a bar, you were all going to go over to her place, minus Hotch and Rossi who tapped out early.

You shrugged. “Nope. I had one boyfriend and one drunk kiss, both of which were bad experiences for me. I’ve kind of avoided all of that since then.” You explained, “Plus, when would I have time for that? Between my college studies and getting into the FBI, then BAU, I didn’t really have free time.”

“I mean, sure, I guess,” Derek continued, “but come one. There had to be guys falling at your feet!”

You laughed. “Not all of us have that kind of draw, Derek.” He nudged you, and you nudged him back with a wink.

He was right, though. You were stunning. Even when you just put your hair up and wore sweatpants, there was just something about you. You would probably look good in a trash bag. But men were not just falling at your feet. Even if they were, you wouldn’t notice, putting all of your energy into chasing your dreams instead. You thought that was a very reasonable, and responsible, thing of you to do.

Plus, you’d done the whole boyfriend thing, and weren’t really interested in trying it again. Well, not as interested as you were in trying the whole girlfriend thing. And your first day on the job, a certain badass brunette caught your eye, and was even the first one to make you really feel like part of the team. You were finding it harder and harder to resist her pull.

“Yeah Derek,” JJ chimed in, drawing your attention back to the conversation, “Not all of us can rack up eight phone numbers and five make out sessions in one night.”

“What can I say?” Derek beamed, pride shining in his eyes. “I’m a great kisser.” Emily snorted. When Derek glared at her, she pressed her lips together and looked down. “What?”

“Nothing,” Emily sang, shaking her head with an air of mischief.

“No seriously, what?”

“It’s just that if you read girls half as well as you claim to, you might wonder if that’s always the case.” Derek’s jaw hung open, and Emily smirked at him with unabashed confidence. You stared at her and her piercing eyes, and you couldn’t help but admire how sexy she was when she was confident, smug even.

“Wow, you’re gonna go there?” Derek asked, feigning hurt disbelief, “And how would you know that?”

Again, Emily shrugged and nonchalantly stated, “Because I know how women act when they kiss me. And trust me. They’re actually enjoying themselves.”

Some ‘ooh’s radiated throughout the room, and based on the look Penelope had plastered to her face, things were about to get good.

You watched in amusement as Derek sat up a little straighter, “Is that a challenge?”

“If you want it to be.” Emily’s brows shot up.

“Alright, you’re on,” Derek nodded, determination radiating off of him.

“Well, I don’t know how strong either of your games are,” Luke spoke up, glancing quickly over at Spencer who was just observing the whole encounter, “but I think I could take on both of you.”

“No you could not,” Tara sneered from beside him.

“And you could?” Luke challenged.

Setting her glass down, Tara replied, “Yes.”

You giggled at the thought of the four of them having a kiss-off, just imagining how utterly chaotic that would be due to all of their extraordinarily competitive natures.

“Oh my god, this is going to be so fun!” Penelope squealed. “Now we just have to figure out who’s going to judge!”

“We can’t really use one of us because some people might be biased or recognize the kisser,” Emily casually stated. It took a moment for you to realize what she’d just admitted to. Who on the team has kissed before? But before you could really start thinking about it, you noticed that everyone’s gaze had slowly turned to you.

“What is happening right now?” you questioned, looked between them.

The five of them exchanged excited, knowing looks before training their attention back on you. Then you got it. “Are you serious?”

“You’re the only one who hasn’t kissed one of us!” Derek explained, as if it were obvious.

“You mean…” you trailed off, but again couldn’t complete the thought before someone interrupted.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Penelope promised. “And you seem like you’d be a very neutral judge.”

“Not to mention,” Tara added, “You’re a pretty blank slate since you haven’t really kissed anyone.”

“Don’t worry though, we’ll show you a good time,” Derek assured with a wink.

Heads nodded. You were a bit worried that there would be some hurt feelings by the end of this, but they were all adults, and the appeal to kiss all of them, along with their eager faces, became enough to convince you to say yes.

“Yes!” Derek exclaimed. He looked pointedly at Emily, “It is so on.”

She just rolled her eyes. “Pen, do you have a blindfold?”

“A what?” you asked.

“Well we can’t have you getting biased on us. This has to be strictly about kissing.” Hearing her explain it with such reason hampered your growing nerves a bit. Like you’d said, you hadn’t kissed very many people and you were worried how much better they were going to be at it than you.

You reminded yourself that this was more about them than you, and tried to use that to calm yourself down. You were about to be kissed by some of the most attractive people you’d met. This was definitely not a bad place to be.

While Penelope rummaged through her belongings to get a makeshift blindfold, Luke convinced Spencer to join and JJ decided to participate.

Pretty soon, they had you seated in a chair, another one across from you, waiting for whoever was going to go first, while Emily explained some ground rules. “We are going to go in rounds. We will each kiss her and then after every round, Y/N will eliminate one of us based on the number in the round we kissed her so she doesn’t know who it is. No touching. You can’t use your hands in any way, this has to purely be about the kiss. And kiss however you normally would, no matter what that means for you.”

“No hands?” Spencer questioned. You were still surprised that he’d agreed to join, let alone ask a question like that. Luke gave him an odd look from behind while Emily confirmed the rule.

“Your hands might give away who you are, and again, this is just about the kiss.”

“Alright, alright, let’s just get started,” Derek complained, as Penelope tied the blindfold behind your head.

Now that you couldn’t see, you relied on your hearing to figure out what was happening. You heard some shuffling and disgruntled whispering, then you heard the chair across from you slide across the floor toward you. You waited anxiously as the person leaned in and pressed their lips to yours.

Their lips were plush and soft, but the kiss seemed a little too forced. It was a bit excited and you could feel their smile as they started pulling away. It was a pretty good kiss, definitely better than your previous two, despite the fact that it only lasted a few seconds. You couldn’t help but try and guess who it was, thinking it was either Penelope or Tara.

The next person who sat down completely blew the person before them out of the water. It was a much longer kiss and the person even swiped their tongue across your bottom lip for entry. You weren’t really thinking as you gave them access, the heat in your body starting to rise. You just hoped that your face wasn’t giving any of that heat away, so you were almost grateful that the person pulled away.

There was a bout of silence, which made you feel a little awkward, but soon enough, you heard the cushion squish down across from you. Their knee knocked yours, as you assumed they crossed their legs. Being a profiler, you were very used to picking up on body language with your eyes, making it kind of fun to try and pick up those same behavioral cues with all of your other senses. This person, you could tell, was very hesitant. You couldn’t say you were surprised when the person really only pecked you on the lips.

Number four in the line up started out pretty good, but you felt them start shaking or something halfway through. You quickly realized that they were laughing and you pulled back. You couldn’t help but smile when you asked, “Why are you laughing?”

Up until then, they had laughed pretty silently, but once you called them out, they just full out chuckled. “I’m sorry!” Tara unapologetically said through more laughs. “I couldn’t help it. I blame Luke.”

You laughed with her as you playfully shook your head. “You were doing so well up until then!”

“I know!” she agreed.

“I guess this means you’re out?” you half questioned.

Tara gave an over dramatic sigh, but you could hear the smile in her voice as she stated, “I guess so.” As she walked away, Luke gave a small ‘ow,’ and you assumed she’d hit him. You wondered what about this was Luke’s fault? Had he said something to her?

Either way, someone took her spot across from you. They wasted no time leaning in and putting their lips on yours. The kiss started out slow and gentle, like they were easing you into it. But gradually, as you both became more used to the other, it picked up pace, your mouths starting to move in sync. It felt like all of their energy was focused on you and exploring your mouth with their tongue. It was by far the most passionate kiss you’d experienced, and you tried to hide the pout from your face as they pulled back, chasing their lips for only a second before remembering there was an audience, and a competition.

Person number six was … good. You couldn’t really describe it. They used, what now seemed to you to be, a medium amount of tongue, for a medium amount of time. It was a good kiss, you weren’t saying it wasn’t, it just didn’t have any quirk or something unique that stood out. It was just … good. You knew Tara was out, so you tried to guess who that person could be. You thought maybe JJ, or possibly Luke, but you couldn’t be sure.

The final person who kissed you was intense. They had plump, captivating lips, but the way they kissed verged on overwhelming. They were also a little sloppy in their movements, and it was like you could tell they weren’t fully invested. Distracted, maybe? Again, not bad, but nothing like some of the other kissers.

The air was hot and heavy as Emily spoke up. “Okay, we’ve all gone. You know Tara is out, she was number four, so who else from this round would you eliminate?”

You pretended to think about it, even though it actually wasn’t that hard to pick. “I think it was person number three.” The person who just sort of pecked me, you thought, but didn’t say.

The players were now down to five, and they went in the same order as they had before, minus person number three, who you guessed was Spencer, and Tara.

This round made you even more confused about who was who than the round before. The excited one you guessed was either Luke or Penelope, the intimate one you thought was Derek, the passionate one you thought was either Luke or Emily, the average one you thought was JJ, and the sloppy, intense one you had no idea about.

By the end of that round, you eliminated person number one, the overly excited, verging on too hard kisser.

The next round was a no brainer. The intimate kisser, Derek you thought, upped his game. He kissed you for longer, used a bit more tongue, but was still somehow gentle. If you thought he’d upped his game, you weren’t prepared for person number two. They also upped their game, keeping your mouths molded together for longer than before, something you were more than happy about. You couldn’t quite place exactly what it was about their kiss, maybe that it seemed so perfectly balanced, incorporated the perfect amount of everything, or something else, but they were absolutely magnetic. It sent electric waves through your body, making you feel a little tingly. You felt sort of bad for the average kisser, most likely JJ, because they had to follow that up. And finally the sloppy kisser, who you still couldn’t place. They didn’t up their game at all. If anything, they felt more distracted by the minute, and pulled away earlier than the rest.

“Person number four,” you stated when Tara asked who was getting eliminated.

It was now down to three; the intimate kisser, you predicted Derek, the passionate kisser, either Luke or Emily, and the average kisser, probably JJ.

There was some shuffling, a faint whispering, a small ‘ow,’ and then Tara spoke up again. “Now that there are only three left, as long as you are okay with it, they want to use their hands.”

You tried to downplay the excitement you were feeling with this new rule, but you were sure their trained ears could hear it in the way you said, “Yes, that’s good with me.”

The seat across from you suddenly became occupied, but before anything could happen, Tara quickly jumped in. “Wait. Y/N, you can’t use your hands.” When you pouted a little, she explained, “Well if you did, you’d definitely know who is who, so…”

You sighed, but agreed, waiting in anticipation for the person across from you to touch you.

It started soft, their long fingers brushing over your cheeks as they leaned in. Soon enough, though, the entirety of their hands were firmly cupping your face and pulling you ridiculously close, close enough to feel some of their body heat. It was intimate, and again made you feel like the most important person to whoever those lips and hands belonged to. You rubbed your thumb into your palm, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch them, but you knew you couldn’t. Your sole focus was on them, them on you, and you had to say it was one of the best kisses of the night.

That person made you feel like the most important person in the world, but the next person kissed you like you were the only person in the world. They started out by tucking your hair behind your ear, then slowly sliding their fingers back into the loose strands. As they started to kiss you, they moved their other hand behind your head, cradling the back of your neck. The person before them had captured your focus, but this person erased any thoughts your mind was capable of forming. You couldn’t think about anything other than the way their tongue moved against yours, and the shiver they sent down your spine as one of their hands traveled the length of it, coming to rest just above your hip, strong, confident fingers pulling you closer. It was a moment you never wanted to end, and one that left you in a cold shock when it eventually did.

You almost didn’t even want the last person to kiss you because of how you knew it would never come close to what you’d just experienced, but a competition was a competition. The third person kissed you similarly to how they’d done before, good but nothing special, their hands resting comfortably on your hips.

When it was all over, you asked, “Can I take off the blindfold now? I know who the winner is.”

“Sure, but announce who first,” Tara suggested.

“Okay,” you agreed. “The third person got third, the first person got second, and the second person was the winner. Can I take the blindfold off now?” you asked again. You were eager to find out who was who. When you didn’t get an immediate response warning you not to, you stood up and quickly ripped it off to quite the amusing sight. Spencer looked as bright as a cherry, Penelope looked shocked but proud, Tara was smirking, Luke’s eyes were the size of beach balls, JJ looked indifferent, Emily was smirking, and Derek looked like he’d just been shot. “So are you going to tell me who was who?”

Without answering, Emily took two large strides toward you and placed her lips back on yours. One of her hands slid back into your hair while the other rested above your waist, and you smiled into the kiss. Of course it was you, you thought. When she pulled away, you were both smiling like idiots, and she gave you a single eyebrow raise as you both turned to look at Derek.

“I got third?” he asked, still in a state of bewilderment.

“What?” you asked, just as shocked as he was. “I thought you got second.”

Emily snorted. “You thought Spencer was Derek?”

What?! You spun to face Spencer, the person you were sure got out the first round, and he was still blushing like he’d been out in the sun for far too long. “You took second?” He nodded nervously. You beamed at him, causing him to return a shy smile, then look down at his fiddling hands. “You’re a really good kisser,” you complimented.

Derek repeated, “I took third? Emily, I guess I kinda get,” she rolled her eyes at that, “but Pretty Boy?”

You shrugged, and Luke jumped in, though not nearly as harsh as Derek had been. “Yeah, I took fourth, but Spencer got second?”

You offered him a cheeky smile, remembering how distracted he felt while kissing you, and the not-so-subtle glances he constantly made at Spencer all the time. You took the opportunity to encourage whatever was going on there. “He did. Like I said, he’s a good kisser. Very intimate, like I was the only one on his mind. You should try kissing him sometime. Might help you feel less distracted.” You winked and Spencer looked like he wanted to evaporate. Luke, on the other hand, was just staring at Spencer, and you could see the gears spinning in his head. He finally mumbled a ‘what the hell’ before pulling Spencer to him by the back of his neck. Spencer seemed immediately surprised, but recovered quite quickly, no hesitation to his movements after the initial shock. They kissed each other probably exactly how they’d just kissed you, Spencer’s hands cupping Luke’s face, Luke’s hands resting on the back of Spencer’s neck and lower back. Although, you’d have to say that Luke looked a bit more focused than he’d been with you. You laughed while some of the other members hooted. This was something that’d been a long time coming.

When they pulled away, Luke nodded. “Y/N, I definitely agree with you.”

Spencer smiled, and playfully nudged Luke as he said, “Y/N, I also agree with you.”

“Hey!” Luke exclaimed, but he was smiling the brightest he had in a while.

Derek was still a mess, not enjoying the moment as much as he usually would’ve, and asked, “What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you assured, “You’re a good kisser, but there’s just nothing too special about it. It’s kinda just…”

Emily and Derek looked at you expectantly before Emily got it. “Wait. Are you calling him average?”

She looked way too excited for the occasion, but she was right. He was just kinda average. You nonchalantly admitted, “I guess.”

Derek let his hands fall to his sides with a slap, his mouth still hanging open. Emily’s lips curled up into a sly smile as she placed a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Not everyone can be as good as me.” He shrugged her hand off his shoulder, and she held out her hand. Derek reached into his back pocket producing his wallet, and grudgingly slapped a crumpled $20 into her open palm. You gawked at them, not realizing that they’d placed a bet on their skills.

Emily returned to your side, closer than she’d really ever stood to you before, and gave you a smile that seemed on the shyer side for her, biting her lip as she peered at you through her lashes. You mirrored her shy smile, pressing your lips together as heat quickly spread to your cheeks. You turned back to the rest of the conversation that demanded your attention, people wanting to know why you eliminated them. But you couldn’t help glancing over at Emily every now and then, and couldn’t hide your joy when you saw that she was gazing back.

Who knows? Maybe that night was going to be the start of two great relationships in the BAU.

@90spumkin

[yournameoneverypage]

Moon Over Miami

Anon request; Shawn Mendes x (y/n).

~3.1k

Warnings: Language.

~ * ~

You scowled at your overflowing carry on. You really didn’t want to bring something bigger, because that would mean baggage check and waiting at luggage carousels and that was just a headache waiting to happen.

Shawn was stretched across your bed on his back, tossing a tennis ball in the air and catching it again. “(Y/n), it’s Miami and we’re only going to be there for four days,” he chuckled. “You do not need to pack so many clothes.”

“Yes, I do. You’re a boy; you don’t understand.”

“First off, I am not a boy. I am a man, and a very attractive one at that.”

You rolled your eyes. Even if you wholeheartedly agreed, you were not going to stroke his ego.

“At the very least, lose most of the makeup. You’ll just sweat it off anyway. And you know I like you better without all that gunk on your face.”

“It doesn’t matter what you do or don’t like, now does it?” you snarked.

He sat up and leaned back against the pillows at the headboard. “I just meant that you’re already so pretty, naturally.”

Shawn was always finding little ways to compliment you and, secretly, you loved it, even if it made you blush, even if it was hard to believe some days.

“Fine.” You threw your hands up in the air in frustration. “You pack for me then.”

“Fine. I will.” He stood from the bed and poked your side. “So dramatic,” he teased, dancing his fingertips from ribcage to hip.

You gave him a small shove, and quickly moved out of tickling range (he knew where your most sensitive spots were). You stuck your tongue out at him.

“Don’t stick it out unless you intend to use it,” he smirked.

“Ha! You wish,” you giggled.

~ * ~

You and Shawn.

It was...confusing.

You had first met him five months ago and had become a regular fixture in his life over the past three. You were friends, good friends. Good friends who spent a ridiculous amount of time together. Good friends who flirted. A lot.

There were feelings, definitely on your side, growing stronger every day you spent together, and you were starting to believe there were deeper feelings on his side as well.

Other than outright pressing your lips to his, and you had never really been that forward with anyone, you weren’t sure what to do to tip the scales from friendship and flirtation to more.

You could simply tell him you were falling for him and that you wanted to take your relationship to the next level, but that scared you even more than the thought of kissing him.

~ * ~

Fifteen minutes later, Shawn stood smugly beside you. Your bag was packed neatly, and you were happy with everything he chose (not that you would admit that to him), which showed you he knew you better than you thought he did. There was even enough room left over for accessories.

It shouldn’t have surprised you; he was pretty adept at packing, having been on tour so often.

“Shut up,” you mumbled.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“But you want to.”

Shawn laughed.

You only added two things, just to prove a point.

~ * ~

You may as well have been in Florida with only Brian and Connor for as often as Shawn had been around the first two days.

The trip had started out incredibly.

You took a redeye from LA to Miami. Shawn held your hand during takeoff and landing. It was your first time flying first class; you didn’t care that you slept through most of it.

Shawn had rented a 3-bedroom beachfront bungalow for the long weekend and had ordered a breakfast basket to be waiting for you when you got there. Everyone ate their fill of croissants and muffins and fresh fruit while you sipped your tea and coffee. Afterward you all agreed that a morning nap poolside sounded ideal.

Shawn claimed the double lounger for the two of you. You curled up beside him and he threw a light blanket over both his and your legs. You laid your head on his shoulder and were asleep within minutes.

When you opened your eyes again, after the best nap you may have ever had in your life thus far, Shawn was no longer beside you. You could see him just inside the back door, talking on his phone.

“Hey,” he announced, returning to the patio, after seeing that you, Brian, and Connor had all awoken. “I’m going to catch up with Camila. I’ll text you after lunch; see where you are.”

~ * ~

You didn’t see Shawn again that first day until you were making plans to spend the evening in South Beach for sunset drinks, dinner, and then a pub crawl for even more drinking.

The boys teased you for being such a lightweight. You were blissfully buzzed, which made it easier for you to let your inhibitions go. Shawn was more intoxicated than you were, which made it a lot easier for you to tug him onto the dance floor.

Flush against him while you moved together to the music, fingertips grazing bare skin, it was too easy to forget that you had been upset with him at all.

Spending all afternoon at the Bayside Market in the hot Miami sun, followed by a night of drinking and dancing into the very early hours of the morning had finally caught up with you. By the time you made it back to the bungalow, you were piggyback on Shawn, your sandals dangling from his fingers by the straps.

~ * ~

Day 2 began with three boys nursing hangovers much worse than yours. You did little things to annoy them, on purpose, which was, admittedly, not very nice of you. You knew they’d had enough when they decided to throw you in the pool. When Shawn reached out, laughing, to help you out, you pulled him in instead.

He chased you into one of the corners of the deep end, trapping you between the pool wall and his hard, wet chest, his arms on either side of you. You had to hold onto his biceps to keep yourself afloat, which, from the look in his eyes, was exactly how and where he wanted you.

Your heart was telling you to use this position to your advantage, finally tip those scales, and you might have if it had been the night before when you were a little drunk. Regretfully, you were sober and when you were sober you tended to overthink things. Now that you were sober, he was too close.

You ducked underwater, under his arm, and quickly pulled yourself out of the pool.

~ * ~

Once you were dry and dressed, you dragged Shawn, Connor, and Brian to Wynwood to go on a golf cart tour of the Walls. They had all been to Miami before, more than once, so they had put you in charge of the itinerary.

From Wynwood you made your way to Little Havana.

After a string of late afternoon texts from Camila, Shawn asked if she could join the four of you for dinner. He wanted you to meet her.

They tried their best to be inclusive throughout dinner, and Camila was certainly nice enough, but still you felt like the fifth wheel, the spare, most of the time.

After dinner, Shawn and Camila wandered off together. When it became clear that Shawn wouldn’t be returning to the house with the rest of you, your heart sank. You stewed in your hurt until it became anger.

You understood that Camila was one of Shawn’s best friends, and he hadn’t seen her for a while. You could forgive him for the day before, but this was supposed to be your trip. You, Brian, Connor, and Shawn. D'Artagnan and the Three Musketeers. If all Shawn had wanted to do was hang out with Camila, why had he bothered to invite you at all? You held no grudge against or felt any ill will toward Camila. It wasn’t her fault that Shawn was being a clueless dick.

~ * ~

You were laying on your side, looking out the window of which you forgot to close the blinds. The moon reflected off the still water of the pool that you could see from your room.

You heard the quietest clearing of someone’s throat. You rolled over to see Shawn leaning against the frame of the doorway, bare chested, in soft gray pajama bottoms.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked softly. You couldn’t sleep either, even though you were exhausted.

You really didn’t want to spend the remainder of your time in Miami being angry with him. There were still two days left. You patted the mattress on the empty side of your bed. That was all the invitation he needed.

Shawn crawled into bed beside you, tugged on the open collar of the other half of his pajamas, and chuckled, “Thief.”

“It’s so soft, and it smells like you,” you whispered.

Shawn laid his head on your stomach and you instinctively started to run your fingers through his hair, tugging gently on his curls. You heard him sigh deeply, contentedly, and the next thing you remembered was waking up to the bright morning sun.

~ * ~

You smiled and stretched languidly. Shawn must have made his way back to his own room during the night sometime. You didn’t hear anyone else up and about yet. You decided to surprise the boys by making breakfast.

Brian and Connor stumbled into the kitchen, following the smell of sizzling bacon and strong coffee.

“Is Shawn still sleeping?” you asked.

Connor and Brian exchanged a look. Connor cleared his throat and said, “Shawn isn’t here.”

You didn’t even have to ask where he had gone. Returning to your room you retrieved your phone on the nightstand. You hadn’t bothered to check it when you woke up.

There was a group text from Shawn that read:

Grabbing a workout and then a quick breakfast with Camila. Be back soon.

Brian and Connor were nearly finished eating when Shawn returned, oblivious to what he was walking into. He grabbed a few slices of bacon and sat down to join them at the kitchen island.

“Where’s (y/n)?”

Brian and Connor shook their heads at him. “You can be such a prick sometimes,” Brian said. Both he and Connor then stood and left the room.

Confused, Shawn glanced around and suddenly it all made sense. “Shit,” he said to himself, under his breath.

~ * ~

Shawn stood in your bedroom doorway like he had the night before.

“I’m sorry, (y/n).”

You refused to acknowledge him.

“I didn’t know you were going to make breakfast or I would have been back sooner.”

You wanted to bite at him that he shouldn’t have been gone at all.

You had just pulled on your swimsuit cover up when you turned to him. His eyes snapped from your ass to your eyes. You slipped on your sunglasses, grabbed your beach bag, and said, “Brian, Connor, and I will be on the beach, if you decide you want to join us.” You pushed past him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he replied.

~ * ~

You purposely chose to wear the smallest, sexiest bikini you had with you. It wasn’t one you yourself would have packed but since Shawn had been the one to pack your carry on he must have wanted to see you in it. The day you bought it was a day when you were feeling particularly confident in your body.

By the time Shawn made it down to the beach, he found you in conversation with two young men who weren’t Brian or Connor. You had removed your cover up and stood before them in your tiny white string bikini.

You were laughing at something one of them was saying. Shawn saw you reach out and briefly place your hand on his forearm.

Shawn was unprepared for the surge of violent irritation that nearly overtook him.

He saw you notice him. He bristled when you leaned in and said something in the other man's ear. He watched as you slid the temple tip of your sunglasses between your teeth. He saw you put your hand on your waist and slightly arch your back. He watched as you touched the small pendant of the necklace you were wearing and drew it away from the skin between your breasts.

Shawn hated the way the two men were looking at you. His stomach churned; his muscles tensed; his heart felt too tight in his chest. He couldn't take anymore.

Sidling up beside you, he wrapped his large hand around the nape of your neck, gently yet possessively.

“Oh, hi Shawn,” you said casually, shrugging out of his grip. “Meet my new friends, Chase and Evan.” You smiled at them, fluttering your eyelashes and biting softly on your lower lip.

“Boyfriend?” Chase asked.

“Oh no, Shawn and I are just friends.” You eased closer to Evan and reached out, meaning to touch the bracelet he was wearing, but before you could, Shawn grabbed your wrist.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he gritted through a fake smile, pulling you away.

“Let go of me,” you snapped. He did, immediately. He never had nor would he ever do anything to physically hurt you.

Brian and Connor, having seen more than enough, hurried toward you. They made you and Shawn take a step back.

“What the hell is going on?” Connor exclaimed.

“(Y/n) is being childish,” Shawn growled.

Maybe you were, but you were upset, goddamn it. “Me?! Look who’s talking! You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend! You have no claim on me!”

“You’re both being childish!” bit Brian. “And you’re starting to cause a scene. Get over yourselves and fucking talk like adults. If you can’t, walk away,” he admonished.

Shawn ran a hand through his hair and tugged frustratingly on his curls before storming off.

Brian gestured for Connor to stay with you and he followed after Shawn.

“Why did you have to antagonize him?” Connor questioned.

You glared at him. “This is not my fault. Of course you’re on his side.”

“I am on no one’s side. You’re both at fault, and you fucking know it. Yeah, he’s kind of been an asshole, but you didn’t have to flirt with those guys so brazenly right in front of him.” Connor’s voice softened. “You know how he feels about you, (y/n). You should apologize.”

You were thoroughly abashed but still feeling stubborn. You turned on Connor and said, “I will when he does.”

You put your cover up back on, slipped into your sandals, and grabbed your clutch which held your wallet, your eReader, and your phone. You trusted Connor to bring everything else back to the bungalow for you.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“For a walk. I need to be alone.”

~ * ~

The sun was going down when you returned to the house.

When you walked in the door, Shawn, who had been sitting on the edge of the ottoman, stood, and approached you cautiously. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You were starting to worry us,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry. I needed some time to cool off and to think.”

“I’m just glad you’re safe.” His relief was palpable. He stepped even closer to you. “I’m sorry. For how I acted and what I said on the beach. It’s inexcusable.”

“I am, too. I should never have purposely tried to upset you.” You unconsciously reached out and ran your fingertips along the V of Shawn’s t-shirt. “That was the first time we’ve ever fought... I didn’t like it.”

He covered your hand with his, flattening your palm against his heart, which you could feel was beating quite quickly. “Come and have dinner. It’s time to stop thinking and start talking.”

He smirked and began walking backward, hand still over yours.

It was that smirk that set your heart thumping. You followed, curiously, anxiously.

On the back patio was a romantic table set for two, surrounded by tea lights and lit candles.

“Shawn? What’s going on?” you asked, breathlessly.

He crossed to the table and pulled one of the chairs out for you. “Sit, Love. Eat.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“What?” He felt as if his heart might break.

“Too many butterflies.” You softly bit your bottom lip.

“Oh,” he breathed.

“Can we talk first?”

“Of course.”

You walked over to and sat down on the outdoor sectional.

Shawn dropped down beside you with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I’ve been, well, an asshole seems to be the overall consensus. I shouldn’t have ditched you to spend so much time with Camila.”

“I know you’re close,” you said, “and I know it had been awhile since you’d seen her. I tried to be understanding.”

“No,” he interrupted, “this is on me. This was supposed to be our trip. You, Brian, Connor, and me.”

“D'Artagnan and the Three Musketeers,” you said in unison and you both laughed.

Shawn leaned closer you. “Do you want to know the truth?” he asked, as if it was the greatest secret he held, which, to him, it was. “She was talking me through my feelings for you.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “She made it very clear to me that I was ‘estúpido’ for spending time with her instead of the person I should be, for talking through my feelings with her instead of with the one I really needed to talk with.”

“You have feelings for me?” you breathed, feeling your entire body flush, not just your cheeks.

Shawn laughed softly and took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “It’s not obvious? I was jealous of those other guys because I want to be the boyfriend. I want the right to call you mine... I’m falling in love with you, (y/n). Which is insane since we haven’t even kissed yet. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to; every time I see you I want to kiss you.”

Without warning, you pressed your lips to his. It took him not even a moment to respond, pulling you onto his lap and cupping your face. Kissing Shawn was even better than you had ever imagined it would be.

When finally you eased away from him, breathless, you confessed, “I’m falling in love with you too, Shawn. I want you to be mine. I want to be only yours.”

“Does that mean I can kiss you whenever I want to?” he whispered, grinning happily.

“Over and over and over again,” you breathed.

His lips once more met yours. Your hands encircled the nape of his neck. Tender and unhurried turned deep and delicious.

Your lips left his with an audible ‘aʘa’ and you giggled. “Can we eat now? I’m starving.”

Shawn’s answering laugh, rich and lightsome, was everything.

~ * ~

@mendesblurb @benito-mi-vida

[honeybunnybeez]

If you want to you could write some C! Dream being soft around reader?

Secluded Cabin's and Gentle Touches

♡Pairing: Dream x GN!Reader (with hints of platonic!GN!reader x Tommy and Tubbo)

♡Genre: Fluff

♡Format: Fanfiction

♡Summary: It's not uncommon for Tommy and Tubbo to bring people over to your place so you can help calm them down after a prank, but today they seemed to drag by a familiar face that you have yet to properly spend time with. Lucky for you, he seems to be longing to talk to you as well.

♡Au Setting: Au where the war never happens but tensions are still high.

"Get back here!"

Despite the voice ordering them to stop, Tommy and Tubbo continued to run like their lives depended on it, and to be fair, it kinda did in this situation. Wet hands stained in different coloured dyes served as proof of their crimes and a green hooded man wearing an awfully smudged looking mask makes it clear who their latest prank victim was.

"What were we fucking thinking!?" but a laugh at the end of his yelling as he dodges Dream's outstretched hand makes it clear that Tommy doesn't regret his life choices at all.

"I don't know!" Tubbo on the otherhand, was starting to regret his involvement in the prank. His legs were starting to ache and his chest began to burn as he slowly became exhausted. A wild chase like this isn't exactly new to them but Dream's persistence really makes it hard for a person to catch a breather between runs. "Tommy, where are we even going!?"

Tommy opened his mouth to respond but a trail of scattered lanterns and torches answers Tubbo's question for him. Tubbo lets out a knowing, "ooooh!" And uses whatever remaining energy he can to keep up with Tommy, knowing exactly what his friend had in mind.

In the distance, they can see you sitting on your porch, playing with a parrot you had managed to tame while out searching for cocoa beans. Relief washes over them when you lock eyes with them and start jogging over with your bird in tow, a worried expression evident on your face.

They're quick to hide behind you when they get close enough, clutching the back of your shirt while trying to catch their breaths to answer your questions as to who they were running from this time and why.

"Dream-" is all Tommy can manage to wheeze out before he's coughing up a lung and swearing again.

"Ah," honestly, after knowing the pair for a good few years now, just mentioning a name gives you a pretty good idea of the type of prank they pulled and the danger they could be in. Thankfully, Dream wasn't a major threat, to you at least.

"Alright, alright, go hide in the house quickly and don't come out until I tell you guys to. If I die, make sure to take care of the farm animals and bees for me."

"Bless you, (y/n)."

"Your sacrifices won't be in vain, we promise!"

You give them a joking salute and urge them to go inside quickly, informing them that you can hear Dream approaching closer. Once the boys were safely inside, you tried your best to look as natural as possible with the limited time you had to adjust yourself. When Dream arrives, you can see that he's just as tired as the boys are thanks to the chase, though his stance continues to be tense as he frantically looks around for them, fists clenched tight until his knuckles turned ghost white.

"Fuck, where did they run off to?"

"Not gonna give a stranger a kind hello after walking onto their lawn with murderous intent?" You and Dream weren't really strangers per say, you had to meet up with him when you moved into the server after all, but due to conflicting schedules and how often Tommy and Tubbo dragged you away whenever he tried to make conversation, you two didn't know each other all that well. That doesn't mean that you didn't want to try though.

When Dream realizes where he was and who he was talking, he's quick to adjust his mask and hoodie to make himself look somewhat... presentable, as presentable as he can look with sweat marks and a messed up mask at least.

'Why did those two have to run up to your house out of all places,' Dream mentally whines to himself, clearing his throat and giving you a single awkward wave as he walks up to you.

"Hey, (y/n). I didn't know you lived in this part of the server," that was a lie. Dream did know where you live, he knew where everyone did but it would be a little creepy to just put that information out there, wouldn't it?

"It'd be a little weird if I just started screaming out my address to random people on the streets, wouldn't it?" You try to joke, earning a little laugh from Dream.

"Okay, yeah, you got me there."

You pat an empty spot beside you on your porch step, inviting Dream over for a bit of rest and he accepts your offer gratefully, practically slumping beside you as he suddenly feels just how tired he is.

"Love the new look you gave your mask by the way," Dream groans at your teasing and pulls at his hoodie strings, hoping to cover his whole mask with his hood. He's glad you can't see his face right now because he can feel his cheeks practically burning at the fact that when he finally gets a chance to talk and get close to you it's when he's a sweating tired mess who looks like a wreck at best.

"I'm going to kill those two when I find them," he mumbles under his breath.

The slam that follows within your home could not have been more terribly timed.

"What was that?"

"Must be my wolves," you lied through your teeth, knowing damn well that your actual wolves were sleeping in your bedroom, "they learned how to open doors recently, I think they're messing around at the moment."

While he's distracted, staring at your window to check what's going on inside of your home, you're quick to read through your most recent private messages on your communicator.

Tommy: HE'S HERE!

Tommy: (Y/N), WHY AREN'T YOU TELLING HIM TO FUCK OFF!?

Tommy: Fuck this, we're hiding in the kitchen.

Tubbo: We're making a run for it through the back.

Tommy: We'll hide in your barn like runaway children.

Tubbo: Isn't that what we technically are right now?

Tommy: (y/n), we're making a fucking run for it if you don't answer us in 3 seconds.

Tommy: 3!

Tommy: 2!

Tubbo: We'RE OUT! I REPEAT, WE'RE OUT!

"Yup," you pop your P a little at the end, annoyed yet amused at the string of frantic messages still continuing to pop up on your communicator as they make their escape, "definitely my wolves causing all of that chaos."

Dream knows that you're lying from the way you read through your messages but he doesn't say a word about it, choosing instead to take this golden opportunity to get closer to you without worrying about anyone getting in the way.

"Not really how you thought the day would go, huh?"

You can't help but laugh and shake your head, "Not at all, I thought it was just going to be another boring day with my bird, but hey, I'm glad you showed up to make it a little more special."

"Really?" Dream hates how happy he sounds to hear you say that, but he'll beat himself up over it another time.

"It's not everyday you see Mr. WasTaken himself visiting your humble home, now is it?" Oh, or maybe he won't.

"I guess not, that really should change, shouldn't it?" You can hear the little grin in his voice as he realizes the game your playing.

"It really should, but a quick heads up would be good, unless you'd like to deal with said 'wolves' I mentioned earlier."

He chuckles and shakes his head, mentioning how he's more than aware that those two 'wolves' of yours would probably rip him apart if he ever visited you unannounced.

It isn't long before you invite Dream inside, offering to help clean his mask as an apology on the boys's behalf. He claims that he doesn't mind but he would rather not take his mask off in front of you when he hasn't gotten to know you all that well.

"You don't have to remove it if you feel uncomfortable, I'll just wipe away whatever I can with a cloth, but if you're still hesitant, I'd understand."

He takes a moment to consider your offer, trying to see if you have any other ulterior motives. It's not that he doesn't want to trust you, he does, but sometimes you just have to be a little extra cautious even with people you like. Sensing no ill intent on your part though, he relaxes himself once more and accepts your help, letting his hood finally loosen and fall back to ease your process.

Your actions are incredibly comforting to Dream who can't help himself from leaning into your touches every once in a while. He watches you with his fullest attention as you wipe away the mess on his mask with a damp cloth. He loves how focused you look while doing so, taking in every little quirk you may have while you concentrate. His little crush on you that he's harboured ever since he saw you running around the server can't help but grow every second you give him your attention.

There's a certain draw to you that Dream can't fight off no matter how hard he tries, you just manage to hold a certain power over him and that was evident by the fact that he completely lost interest in continuing his hunt for Tommy and Tubbo even after finding out that they were still most likely on your property. Dream was a persistent man, he was never one to simply drop something with no proper reason at all. There was just this appeal to you that he couldn't describe and he was desperate to find out what it was about you that made him act differently than he normally would.

"Okay then, that's the last of it," he has to stop himself from letting out a whine when you pull your hands away from his mask, he wants to say something to try to get you to continue on longer but decides against it, not wanting to seem desperate. His eyes don't leave you even after you pull away, watching you rinse off the dirty cloth before throwing it into what seemed to be a bin filled with laundry. When you return to sit by his side, he can't help but swallow a bit of his pride to rest his head on your shoulder. It's a big risk to take, but at least he has an excuse for his actions if he ever needs it.

"Tired, Dream?"

"Mhmm," he feels himself melt when you let your fingers run through his slightly sweat damp hair, clearly unphased by the state of it much, to his joy.

"You wanna rest here for a while? I'm sure you could get a good nap in before leaving."

"That depends, can I still use you as my pillow?"

"Not like I have anything else to do for the rest of the day, knock yourself out."

"Then if you'll excuse me," his head is quick to leave your shoulder to instead rest in your lap and the blissful sigh he lets out escapes his lips before he can even stop himself. You just feel so comfortable to him. "I'm gonna drift off, wake me up in an hour or so, will you?"

You let out a hum in response and it isn't long before you start to see Dream's body go slack, his breathing now steady and deep as he slowly falls asleep. It's quite endearing seeing Dream act so affectionately towards you, something you certainly didn't expect from a guy who carries himself with a subtle wave of authority, but you definitely weren't complaining as you continued to play with his hair once again.

Dream would never tell a single soul about it, but this was quiet possible the best sleep he's gotten in years, if he even tried to sleep at all to begin with. The thought to just slow down and relax is never really on his mind, his head always spinning with things he has to do. However, with you, he's glad to know that he can look to you for comfort from now on, something he now realizes is rather hard to find on the server. It pains him to know that he'll have to leave in just a few moments but for now, he'll take what he can get from you and maybe, if you let him, he'll be sure to return your sweet gestures tenfold one day.

A/N: Hello, everyone! I am so sorry for being absent recently, I know the writer's block excuse can only go so far but- yeah ^^' I'm so sorry again for everything and I'm sorry if this isn't what you were hoping for anon! Thank you so much for the rquest and feel free to request it again if you want me to remake this to hopefully suit what you wanted. Anyways, I hope you all have a good day and thank you so much for reading!

(Requests are open and anon is on!)

[aonesteddybear]

According To Him

akaashi keji x  female reader

warnings: cheating, soft angst, body worship oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex

word count: 5001

notes: this is for the nsfw hq server collab, which the prompt was " I wonder what he would do if he knew you were with me right now ” akaashi was one of two of the pieces i wrote for this collab so be sure to keep an eye out for terushima which will be posted later in the day. be sure to check out the masterlist here and see all the other great writings and artwork done!

thanks for the beta @daishou-s​

Hot tears slipped down your cheeks in frustration as the door slammed. The apartment was eerily quiet. The only noise filling your ears was the occasional soft sniffle as you furiously rubbed at your eyes, willing yourself to stop crying despite the very real reason behind them. 

The sheets puddled in your lap, and despite the soft chill covering your skin, you couldn’t bring yourself to cover yourself- your bed no longer brought you the comfort you sought. Yet again, your fiancé had left you to go practice volleyball with his team post-sex despite having agreed to dinner with you. He had kissed you, apologizing as he got ready despite your pleas, but Bokuto Koutaro really only had one love that claimed his heart, and it was always glaringly obvious it wasn’t you. 

You could beg him all you wanted, but at the end of the day, he would choose his sport over you. It didn't always bother you. In fact, you had encouraged it for the longest time, even as he skipped out on dates or outings for practice. However, leaving you for the others had long since grown old, especially when you wanted nothing more than to curl up in his arms and be held. 

He always would promise to make it up to you, showering you in gifts and lavish trips and soft words, but it didn’t change the fact he really only seemed to be at ease on the court and between your legs. 

Still, there was one person you knew you could always turn to. As long as you have known Bokuto, Akaashi Keiji has known him longer. The former setter had always dealt with Bokuto’s tantrums and emotional mood swings, and he didn’t seem to mind when, even now, you turned to him for help.

You always assumed it was because Akaashi favored Bokuto, the two of the remaining close friends and meeting frequently even though they had graduated and had no actual ties holding them together. After seeing him around for so long, you had also warmed up to him, and now, you also sought him out for comfort, despite the soft whisper of it being inappropriate, which you often forced down. 

Still, you found yourself reaching for your phone and clicking the familiar contact. After a few moments of it ringing, the phone clicked as the other side picked up. 

“Hello?” Akaashi’s voice carried through the phone, and you sniffled pathetically again. “Y/N, are you okay?”

You nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “Yeah.” God, even your voice sounded pathetic. “Can you come over?” You found yourself whispering before you considered the words.

Akaashi was silent for a moment, and you found yourself wondering if he would agree to the proposition before he spoke. “Sure.” The sound of keys jingling made you swallow, because of course your boyfriend's friend would come over to see you when your boyfriend wouldn’t even stay. “What’s wrong?” 

You rubbed at your eyes again. “It’s Kou again. He is...infuriating, sometimes. We were supposed to have dinner, but someone texted him, and of course he agreed. We’ve been planning this for the last week.” You found yourself babbling, the words spilling before you could stop it even as silent tears rolled down your face in humiliation. 

“Okay, okay. It’s okay, Y/N. I promise. I’ll be there in a few okay? I’ll tell you when I get there.” His words were soothing, and you mumbled an agreement. As he hung up, you forced yourself to wipe your tears once more. 

You looked down at your chest and the splattering of hickeys Bokuto had left on them, and you touched them lightly before your hand fell. You could feel the soreness between your legs, left over from his energetic thrusts, and you didn’t want to think of the mess he had left there either.

Still, Akaashi was on his way, so you forced yourself to stand, moving from the bed and grabbing an old, oversized shirt and a pair of panties from the drawer as you made your way to the bathroom. As you cleaned yourself up, taking care of the new bruises and fluids left from your actions earlier, you didn’t fight the tears or the pit in your stomach.

You tried washing your face, patting cold water on your eyes to remove the puffiness that was there, but eventually, you ignored it, simply wiping it on the shirt. Akaashi had seen you worse than this. 

As if on cue, a knock on your apartment door had you jumping. You walked out, dragging your feet as you went before you opened it without looking. Akaashi stood outside the door, his fist raised if he was about to knock again before you had opened it. 

Upon seeing you, his features softened, and he stepped into your space, pulling you into a hug as you sniffled into his shirt. His hand was gentle on the back of your head, petting your hair lightly as he soothed you, the door shutting behind him. “It’s okay. I promise. It’ll be ok.”

You clung to his words, replaying them in your head in hopes that he was right, because at this point you were ready to leave. You were so sick and tired of Bokuto’s antics and not appreciating you.

As if Akaashi could sense your train of thought, he pressed a soft kiss to your head. “He loves you, a lot.” At this point, you weren’t sure who he was trying to convince, because Bokuto clearly wasn’t here showing it. “I’m sorry he’s doing this to you.” 

You hum in response, enjoying the contact with Akaashi, but even you realized how wrong it was for you to be seeking comfort in your fiance’s best friend's arms. Which is exactly why you pulled back, and Akaashi reluctantly let you.

“Do you want a drink?” you questioned, and Akaashi smiled so softly, his eyes just as sad as yours were. 

“I know where everything is. Go sit down.” He coaxed gently, and you nodded. 

You could hear him as he rustled through your kitchen, finding your cups and the water you kept chilled in the fridge. When he brought it out to you, you were already sitting on the couch, a blanket drawn up over you as he handed you a cup, which you took, swirling it gently in your hands as Akaashi sat next to you, his body angled towards you as he watched you.

“Drink.” His words were a soft command. You obeyed, lifting the glass to your lips as you sipped it lightly. “Now, tell me, what happened.”

Your words spilled out then, rushing out your mouth as quickly as your tears did as you told him exactly what happened earlier. How he had come home late, barely talked to you before he was ushering you to bed. Then, he had just left after, despite your anger and the fact you had plans together. “It’s like he doesn’t even care about me, Keiji. He just wants me for sex.”

Your final words tumbled out as you finished breaking down, soft sobs shaking your shoulders as you sobbed. Akaashi hummed, taking your cup from you as it threatened to spill as he sat both of your cups down on the coffee table. 

He once again pulled you into him, letting you rest your head on his chest as you cried, and he resumed his head-petting, just as you liked. “It’s okay.” he promised, his words comforting even as he buried his own face into your hair.

He knew he should feel guilty about it, how he was holding you so selfishly and breathing your scent, which would fuel his late night thoughts despite your genuine heartache. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to push you away, and not let you clutch him so desperately and use him either. 

“I’m sorry he’s doing this. He should realize how blessed he is to have you.” Akaashi’s words were whispered into your hair, but you couldn’t help the soft noise of confusion as you pulled back to stare up at him. 

“What do you mean?” You questioned attempting to pull away from his chest, unsure if you liked where this conversation was going, but his grip was tight and prevented you from pulling away from him. 

“I mean, he is being selfish. It’s what he does. You’re amazing, and he should worship you like you deserve.” His words were gentle as his thumb ran over your cheek, wiping off the tear tracks there, and he looked so very sad as you flinched away from it. 

“Keiji, I don’t know-” You started, and he shushed you gently, his finger brushing against your lips. 

“It’s true. I would treat you better. I should have never given into him.” His words were soft, musing, as if he didn’t mean to speak them, and before you could question further he was leaning forward, his face suddenly too close. “Can I?”

You swallowed. “Can you do what, Keiji?” you questioned, and he smiled softly.

“Can I show you how I would treat you if you were mine?” His words were gentle, filling you with a lull of soft security, and before you knew what you were doing, you found yourself nodding even as he was leaning even further forward.

His lips pressed against yours, fitting securely against your lips as you sucked in a sharp breath. He was gentle- much more than Bokuto ever was- his lips moving against yours, and after a moment, you found yourself responding to them in turn.

Hands touching your neck made you jump even as he pressed further into you, holding you securely to his body so you couldn’t escape from him. As your lips parted to object, his tongue brushed against them before sliding into your mouth.

The whimper you let out was eagerly swallowed as he licked into your mouth, pushing his tongue against yours and enticing you to play with him, which you found yourself reluctantly doing. Your tongues molded against one another, slid against one another, before he was pulling away, gasping in breaths of air even as you leaned forward, chasing after him.

His forehead pressed against yours, his fingers tightening on your neck, feeling the drumming of your pulse against his hand. “Please,” his whisper was low, deep, and needy, and you found yourself leaning forward into it.

“Please what, Keiji?” you questioned, and he let out a soft whine in response, a noise that made your thighs clench together and all reason fly out of your head. 

“Please….” he hesitated, pondering his next words, as if he didn’t know exactly what he was about to ask. “Please let me touch you. Touch you properly.”

You swallowed again, and for a moment, your eyes met his, and the thought of what you were about to do crossed your mind, but rather than focus on it, you pushed it from your thoughts. You couldn’t mull over it, not yet. “Okay.”  

The word was all the permission he needed, a sharp whimper escaping his lips as he pushed back into you. His other hand attached to your hip, sliding first up over your shirt before he was dipping down, and pushing at the shirt. 

As his skin connected with yours, you let out a sharp hiss, which he eagerly caught, his tongue pressing against your lips yet again as you opened for him. As his hands traced up your body, his hands connecting with your breast, he tensed, as if he realized what he was doing also.

He pulled back ever so gently, his eyes searching yours as his lips parted, but any words he was about to say disappeared in his throat just as quickly as you licked your lips. His lips connected with yours once more, desperate, as his hand opted to grope at your breast, squeezing the tender flesh before he pulled back to pinch at the nipple lightly. 

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” His words were whispered into your mouth as you gasped into him, back arching up into his touch as he pulled at the bud. “He’s so stupid.” 

You let out a soft noise at that in objection, but he didn’t give you the chance to speak as he nipped at your lips eagerly instead. After a moment, his head dipped from you, his hands moving down to push at your shirt until he was able to wiggle it up past your breasts. 

The sharp exhale was audible to you as he stared at your chest for a moment before his head dipped to kiss at the valley between them. He pulled back just far enough to shift where his head was before he latched on to your nipple, sucking it gently into his mouth as his tongue pushed over it in excitement. 

His pace was gentle, soothing, and relaxed as he sucks at tender flesh. His teeth grazed the bud just for a moment before he soothed it with his tongue. “You’re so perfect.” The words were whispered into your flesh as he nuzzled at it, his other hand palming softly at your other breast as his eyes flicked up to your face.

As your eyes met, his name fell from your lips in a soft sigh, a mournful sound, and he smiled gently. His lips released your nipple, moving to the other side to suck on it as your hands came to grip his hair. 

He hummed in response as you tugged lightly in the soft curls of his hair that were beginning to form from the length. His lips wrapped around the new bud, sucking it into his mouth as you whimpered his name out again. 

“Keiji, please.” The words were whispered, but his ears caught it anyways, so very attentive on your body’s response to his actions. His mouth released from your chest as he turned to look up at you, and there was no mistaking the dark glint in his eye from anything other than lust for you.

He pressed another kiss to your skin. “What is it, darling?” his words were gentle, covering you in comfort as his hands rubbed tenderly into your skin. Yet as your lips fell open, no words came out. You didn’t know what to ask him for.

The idea of what you were doing was finally beginning to set in, a warm bubbly feeling masking the terror of being caught later on. Yet at the end, it wasn’t you who spoke.

“Can I take you to bed?” His words were sweet, much nicer than the given implications of what would occur if you said yes. He was taking charge of the situation and guiding you to comfort like he always did. 

Your hands moved on their own to cup his face, pulling him up into yours as you lent forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, your foreheads pressing together gently as you held him to your body. The hum he let out filled you with warmth, your toes curling in an excitement you hadn’t felt in a while as he pressed a gentle kiss to your nose.

“Yes,” the word fell from your lips without much thought. The idea of telling him no, pushing him away from you, left you with even more anxiety than holding him did. 

“Come, little one.” His instructions had you moving even before he pulled away, clutching to his body as he helped you to your feet and ushered you in front of him towards the bedroom. As you crossed the threshold of the room, you swallowed, feet pausing as you gazed at your bed, which was still tousled from earlier. 

Sensing your hesitation, Akaashi’s arms wrapped around you from behind, his hand coming up to force you to stare up into his eyes. “If you don’t want to, we can stop.” He assured, pressing his face gently against yours once more, and you couldn’t help the whimper that fell from your lips as you pressed further into his. 

“No. I want to.”

You knew he was giving you an out, promising to stop at any point should you want it, but it didn’t change the fact of how desperately you craved wanting to be wanted. So you angeled your head up, kissing first his jawline and moving to the corner of his lips. 

“Please, Keiji,” you whispered, and this time you both knew exactly what you were asking for, and who was Akaashi to deny either of you?

His hands moved, shifting to spin you around to face him further as his hands came up to tangle roughly in your hair, and his other hand slotted against your hips as he carefully walked you backwards until your knees hit the bed.  

Before you could collapse onto it, his hands were moving to push at your shirt once more, removing his lips from yours just long enough to tug your shirt over your arms and head before he was throwing it to the floor and pressing back further into you relishing how your body felt flush against him.

He could feel your nipples pressed against his body, even through the skin as you whimpered in frustration. Your hands reached out, tugging at his shirt, and he laughed lightly against your lips as he pulled back. His hands fumbled with his shirt for a moment, undoing the buttons by his head, before he was tugging his own shirt off and discarding it. 

As his body pressed against yours, with only bottoms separating the two of you, he let out a sharp sigh into your lips. Your hands smoothed over his skin, running over muscles and skin you had never experienced before. 

Yet, just as quickly as he started the kiss, he pulled away. His hands nudged your hips further back on the bed as his head dipped down to kiss at your neck. You hummed in response, fingers lazily running over his back as you rolled your hips up into him.

“Easy,” he breathed out into your skin, moving to kiss at your collarbone, and then back down your chest. “I want to take my time, show you properly how much you mean to me. Is that okay?” 

You nodded, licking at your lips as you watched him move further down your body, stopping only to kiss at spots randomly, just to hear and feel the responses you gave to him. When he reached the band of your panties, he hesitated, pressing a kiss right against the line. His eyes flicked up at you as his fingers ran over the band carefully.

“Are you sure?” His words were gentle, but clouded with desire. You let out an annoyed whimper, tired of his hesitation.

“Keiji, please.” You found yourself repeating even as he frowned, pulling back slightly, and you lifted your hips to chase after it as his hands pushed down, effectively holding you in place.

“I want to hear you say it.” 

You let out a whine, licking at your lips as you reached out for him. “Yes, I’m sure. I want you, Keiji.” 

Akaashi hums then, a delighted glint showing in his eyes as he mulls over your words in his head. “You sound so beautiful when you say that.”

His hands tugged at the band of your underwear, pulling it down your legs, and you feel your legs closing at his intense scrutiny, suddenly shy.

“Shhh,” he soothed, his thumb running over your mons. “You’re so fucking perfect.” He promised, and you let out a soft whimper in response to his words.  

His hands nudged your legs open as he pushes his way in between them. His eyes were level with your cunt, and you couldn’t help the warm flush that spread up your body as you covered your face with your hands shyly, and his fingers gently pushed open your lips to stare at your core. 

“Perfect.” he repeated, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the top of your slit before you could object. Just as quickly, his tongue slid out, licking up your slit as you let out a sharp gasp of his name. 

Before you could try and wiggle away, his hands connected with your hips, grabbing them tightly as he held you still, his eyes connecting with yours as he pressed his face into your core. His tongue slid out to lick sloppily at your hole as you feel him push into you.

“Keiji!” His name was slurred, your mind hazy at the stimulation he was giving you. He was so different from how Kotarou usually ate you out. Akaashi was much more neat, his tongue pushing in and out of you repeatedly even as you squirmed underneath his grip, desperate for more. 

Yet, as your eyes flicked down to look at him, his attention was focused solely on you. Blue eyes knocked your breath away as they locked with yours, and you couldn’t help the whine that slid out as you attempted to arch your hips up into his mouth. 

“Please.” 

Akaashi hummed in response, a satisfied noise that had you blushing from the vibrations as his tongue pulled away from your hole, licking up your slit slowly yet again until it flicked over your clit.

The grin that spread across his face was shameless as you jumped, hands flying down to fist in his hair at oversensitivity as you let out a squeal of his name. He repeated the action, enjoying how you flinched and cried at the pleasure as he continued to repeat the assault on the sensitive bundle of nerves smugly. 

“It’s too much.” You whispered, but ever-attentive, he caught it. He let out a hum in response even as you whined at the vibrations, but rather than back off, his lips wrapped around the bud as he sucked harshly on it.

Your back arched up off the bed as your fingers tightened in his hair. “Fuck, Keiji!” you cried out, hips jerking under his hands as they pushed you down. Even as your eyes squeezed shut, you could feel his eyes on you, watching your face closely as he memorized your movements, ingraining them into his mind, and he held your hips flush to his face even as you squirmed against his grip.

As the ball in your stomach exploded. His name was all that fell from your lips in a chant as you came around him. His fingers worked you steadily through your orgasm, your body trembling around him as you crashed down. As his movements caught up with your body, you let out a cry, pushing at his head desperately as you attempted to push him away. 

“‘s too much!” You repeated, words slurred and heavy in your mouth as your body jerked with overstimulation.

The man finally gave in, pulling away to kiss his way up your body as you grabbed at his face, kissing him eagerly as you pushed at his remaining clothes. 

“Please?” The word was asked against his lips, barely audible as you gasped into his mouth. He nodded in response, his lips never leaving yours as his hands fumbled with his boxers, pushing them down his legs.

As you reached down, wrapping a fist blindly around his cock, his hips canted forward, a sharp groan escaping his lips against yours as you curiously stroked it. He was heavy in your hand, solid and warm. You could feel the precum leaking down from his tip, wetting your hand as you ran a thumb curiously over it.

As you tried to pull away, his hands caught you, holding you against him even as you let a soft squeak in protest, wanting to taste him in your mouth as well. “It’s fine,” he breathed out against your lips as if he could hear your thoughts. 

“This is about you.”

His hands nudged you back, pinching at your skin playfully as you wiggled backwards further up the bed. He stopped you, pushing you flat back onto the bed so he could loom over you.

He pulled back, panting heavily against your lips as his eyes scanned your face once more, and you couldn’t help but acknowledge just how pretty he was, the light illuminating his head behind a shadow of black hair. 

You reached up for him, trying to pull him back down against you, but he gently knocked your hand away as he looked down at you, eyes soft. 

“I don’t have a condom.” He sounded apologetic, unsure of his words, as he examined you and your reaction to his statement. 

You hummed in response, gently rubbing a thumb against his cheekbone as he turned his head into the pressure. 

“It’s okay,” you promised softly. Koutarou never wore a condom with you, prefering to fill you up, which you didn’t mind, but it helped that you were on birth control already. You also trusted Akaashi, and if he said he was safe, you had no reason to doubt him.

“I can pull out?” he offered, voice raising at the end of his words in question as he proposed the solution, and you nodded softly. 

“That’s fine with me.” You approved, and this time it was him who hummed in approval as he shifted upwards close towards your hip. As he pulled back to rub a thumb over his own head, and you felt your mouth dry at just how pretty his cock was. 

He didn’t give you long to look, gently gripping your hip with one hand as he held his cock with the other. He ran the tip of it along your folds, smiling softly as you jumped at the sensation of it bumping into your clit. 

As soon as he deemed it slick enough with your own juices, he angled his hips to push it lightly against your opening. He teased you just for a moment, gently pressing against the hole without pushing into it until you whined out his name. It was a pitiful sound that had him pushing his hips forward and entering you with a soft exhale.

You felt your body tense up around him at the new sensation. He was a bit smaller than Bokuto, not stretching your walls to the same level, but it still left your toes curling at the new sensation of Akaashi inside of you. 

Your sharp whimper filled his ears, your hips arching up into him as he bottomed out within you. You reached up, grabbing at his shoulders as you pulled him into you. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling his face into yours as you kissed at him. 

“Fuck,” You breathed. “Can you move please?” 

He hummed in response, nipping at your lip softly. “Yes, of course.”

His hips rolled into you gently, testing your response, and you let out a whine in pleasure as you tugged at his hair. He was slow, testing out your responses as you squirmed underneath him. 

His name fell from your lips as you angeled your hips slightly higher, urging him to speed up. 

“Shhh,” he hushed gently, kissing you as his hands moved to push your hips down. “You have to be patient.” 

You frowned, grabbing at his back as you whimpered in frustration. “I don’t want to be patient, Keiji.”  

He pressed a finger against your lips, leaning forward to kiss you as he pulled his finger away. You let another huff as he shifted, grabbing your hips and jerking them upwards so he could move his hips easier into you.

As he thrusted into you at this new angle, you let out a sharp yelp. Your hands scrambled at his arms as he hit the spongy spot inside your walls. A soft sob escaped your lips as he repeatedly began to hit your g-spot. 

“Please, please, please.” You chanted out, back arching up into him in time with his thrusts. “Just like that.” 

He smirked, leaning forward to cup your face in his hands. “You’re so gorgeous,” he purred, leaning down to kiss you tenderly.

Your tongue ran along his lips, eagerly pushing into his mouth as he opened for you. As your tongues pressed together, Akaashi’s hand slid in between your bodies to rub at your clit. As his fingers connected with your body, you jerked away from him at the sensation. 

He let out an amused noise as he held you steady, pushing his fingers against you as he rubbed at your clit in time with his thrusts, and you jerked in pleasure. 

As your body spasmed around his cock, he tensed as you milked him perfectly. “You’re so perfect, darling- you deserve to be worshipped,” 

His other palm spread across your body, rubbing at your breasts softly as he pinched at your nipple lightly watching as you flinched, squirming under his attention. 

“You should be treated like the goddess you are, and if he won’t do it, I will.” He promised, his thumb increasing in speed on your clit as your muscles spasmed. “I wonder what Bokutou would do if he knew you were with me right now.” he crooned out softly as he watched you cum around him. 

As you grabbed at him, you buried your head into his shoulder, and your cunt spasmed around him. 

“Keiji!” You cried out, clutching at his body desperately.

As his hips pulled back out of you, his hand left you to dip between you two yet again, except this time it was for his own pleasure. His own pleasure crested over him as he stroked himself to completion, painting your stomach white. 

However, as he relaxed into you, the sound of the door creaking open made you both jerk away from one another, and you were left staring into the inscrutable eyes of your fiancé, who took over the scene in front of him with a strange amount of calmness. 

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask me?”

[rebrandedbard]

number 42 for the drabble prompts please? :)

42. “I swear it was an accident.”

tw: death (not of main characters), kinda gross corpse descriptions

WC: 2456

Poet’s Sight

Jaskier keeps falling in with dangerous creatures and Geralt is starting to think he’s cursed. That is, until Geralt takes a contract for a noonwraith and Jaskier gets ahead of him. It is then Geralt remembers something important about the nature of rare poets.

-

That made the third time. Three monsters in as many months, and Geralt was starting to worry. Somehow, Jaskier had a habit of stumbling upon the creatures before him, even when he was doing his best to stay away from the fight. Though his medallion offered no hints, Geralt felt sure Jaskier had been cursed somehow. There was no other explanation for it. For two of the hunts, Geralt had not yet arrived in town, would not have been able to defend Jaskier if he got himself into any kind of trouble, and Jaskier had been entirely unaware of the contracts. But this had been the final straw. As things were, Jaskier ought not to be living.

“I swear, it was an accident,” Jaskier said. “The light was low and it seemed like any ordinary dog. I swear, it was an ordinary dog. It had fur and everything—nothing at all as you described.”

Geralt squeezed Jaskier’s shoulders, the corpse of the beast just yards away from where they stood. “It was a barghest. Do you have any idea how much danger you were in! It would have eaten you alive if I let it, torn you from the bowels out!”

“But it…”

“They don’t have a quality of mercy.”

Jaskier stared at the corpse. He wore a pinched expression, not quite comprehending the vision before him. The fleshy, mutated monster looked so much larger, so much more twisted than it had moments before. Its odd tongue, prickled and forked, flopped out from its foaming maw. That same tongue had felt the same as any dog’s before as it licked Jaskier’s face. It had been smooth and slimy and affectionate. And it had not had such large teeth.

He’d gone out to fetch more wood for the fire—really, he’d gone out to relieve himself in private—and he’d happened upon a dog among the bushes. It had looked perfectly sweet in the moonlight: a shaggy brown and white thing with a fluffy, wagging tail. It had followed after him on his way back to camp. Jaskier had always been fond of dogs, so he’d stopped awhile to pet it. Really, it had been friendly. It curled up at his feet and allowed him to scratch it behind the ears. Everything had been just fine, and he’d just picked up a large stick to initiate a quick game of fetch when Geralt came crashing out of the trees, sword raised.

“It was an ordinary dog,” Jaskier whispered. He still had the stick in his hand.

Geralt looked Jaskier in the eye. His nostrils flared ever-so slightly, as if scenting for a lie. The lines in his face smoothed and he sighed, prying the stick from Jaskier’s grasp. “I thought you’d seen it. The way you raised the stick …” He looked at it. It would have snapped in an instant in a true fight. He tossed it near the barghest’s corpse and turned Jaskier back towards camp.

“… You felt fur?” he asked.

Jaskier nodded. “Soft as anything.”

“I don’t understand it. To you, it was as if it were nothing more than a dog.”

“Perhaps I’m seeing things wrong. Was it …  as it tasting me before the feast? When I pet it, was it simply waiting to size me up? Oh, Geralt, what if I’ve had my mind taken over by a witch? Am I seeing visions? Are you real?”

He reached up to grope at Geralt’s cheeks, pulling them and prodding at his armour, his swords, and his chest. Geralt pulled his hands away carefully and shook his head.

“There’s not a trace of magic around you as far as I can tell,” he grunted.

“Then we’ll have to find someone who can tell these things. I’m scared, Geralt. I already lack the ability to defend myself in other ways; if I don’t know when to run, I’ll surely wind up dead before the year is out, if not sooner!”

Probably sooner, Geralt thought. “We’ll consult a mage. There are curses strong enough to evade detection from the medallion. They’re rare, but not unheard of. A mage would be able to tell us more: what kind of curse it is and how to lift it.”

As they stepped into the safety of the firelight, Roach raised her head, flicking her ears towards Jaskier. He wobbled over to her and wrapped his arms around her neck. She sniffed him, then turned her ear to Geralt for answers.

Geralt was looking at Jaskier carefully. It would be too dangerous to stay in the woods another night. Where there was one barghest, there were bound to be others. He would keep watch until first light, then they’d set out for the next town.

“Jaskier,” Geralt called.

Jaskier uncurled from Roach’s neck.

“I want you to stay in town for my next contract,” he said. “You’ll under a curfew until this gets resolved: indoors between dusk and dawn. I want you on the inn grounds whenever I’m not present. Are we understood?”

Jaskier balked at being confined indoors. “Can’t I come along with you?” he asked.

“No. If this is a curse, you might be a danger to me on contracts. To me and yourself.” It would be a greater liability than merely getting underfoot. This thing seemed to attract danger, or else to pull Jaskier towards danger. Either way, he was staying put somewhere safe.

“But Geralt—”

“I won’t hear any argument,” Geralt snapped. He narrowed his eyes, pinning Jaskier with a glare. “Do you remember what happened two weeks ago? You heard a woman cry in the middle of the night. And what did you do?”

Jaskier sighed and flopped down on his bedroll. “She didn’t wail like a banshee. And I’ve told you a hundred times over: she looked human! I held her hand! You can’t hold the hand of a ghost,” he protested. “And what’s more, she spoke. It wasn’t nonsense. How was I to know what she was if I can’t trust my own eyes and ears?”

He lay down in a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. Geralt could feel the frustration rolling off of him in waves. “What I find odd is that none of them so far have hurt me,” he mumbled.

“That’s because I came in time to save your satin-covered ass,” Geralt replied.

“I was with the banshee for hours, Geralt. You didn’t arrive in town until the middle of the night. Why would she wait to kill me when she had me already?”

Geralt thought about it. A banshee was more often an omen than an outright threat, though still dangerous. He’d stayed close to Jaskier for the next three days to see what dreaded fortune the omen foretold, but he’d not come to any harm in that time. Then again, he’d never heard of a banshee speaking before. It was possible Jaskier had not been with her for hours as he claimed, for if his senses were betraying him, how could he know the passing of the time? His accounts were questionable until this was resolved.

When they arrived in town the next morning, it was just before noon. There was no inn, but they were given permission to stay in one of the farmer’s barns. Geralt went to the alderman for a contract and left Jaskier safely behind, composing in among the hay. It was a noonwraith, Geralt discovered, that had been withering the fields. He oiled his sword and returned to the edge of town to wait for it to appear.

On the way, he stopped by the barn to update Jaskier. He was surprised to hear no music within. When he looked, he did not see Jaskier dozing among the hay. He was not where he’d left him at Roach’s side. Listening closely, he heard no heartbeat within. Jaskier was gone.

Geralt cursed and tore himself from the barn. “Jaskier!” he called. But Jaskier was not about. Geralt followed the trail of his scent toward the fields, his feet pounding on the dry earth. He’d made Jaskier promise not to leave the barn. He’d damn well better be enchanted to wander off so mindlessly on his own.

“Miss? Little miss, would you please slow down! I’m not supposed to be out here!”

Geralt turned his head toward the sound of Jaskier’s pleas. There, down the hill, he saw a flash of blue among the yellow stalks. Jaskier was running along the edge of the field, one arm out as if chasing something. He was shouting in his worried voice. As Geralt watched, Jaskier paced in front of the boundary, hesitating before an opening in among the tall crops.

“Little girl?” Jaskier called. “This isn’t a game! You bring me back my ring this instant!” Then, he called out again, diving into the fray.

But Geralt had seen no girl.

Geralt charged down the hill and entered the fields full-tilt. He followed the trail, catching up from behind, listening as he did. His sword was at the ready. The sun was already approaching its apex, and soon the wraith would be out. If it wasn’t out already.

“Troublesome girl!” Jaskier gruffed. “First she steals my ring, then she drops it in the dirt like a seed among the ro—”

There came a pause, and Geralt heard a stalk break somewhere ahead by Jaskier. His voice came again from the same place. “Well, that’s an odd find. Popped up like a lucky charm. Did the thing grow through you?”

The wind stirred, carrying Jaskier’s words clearly, though he was still too far to reach. Geralt’s blood ran cold. His medallion was trembling against his chest, warning of the wraith’s arrival.

“Oh? Is it yours, young lady?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt felt the panic wash over him. A ring in a field. A token from the wraith. The idiot ought not to have touched it! She’d make him the target of her wrath, dry up his soul into a husk, and force him to waste himself away like the withered stalks around them with only—

“A dance?” Jaskier asked. He laughed, voice ringing clear above the wind. “Oh, very well, but only a very short one; I’ve still got to find that little girl, give her a lecture about respecting personal property.”

Geralt was almost upon them. He could see the clearing in the field ahead, the strong sunlight filtering through. Jaskier’s voice was clearer, and the wind had a strange quality to it. It seemed to lull in time to Jaskier’s speech.

“Sister? Ah, then I’d best go easy on her,” Jaskier said. He was moving away quickly now. The wind blew, and suddenly Jaskier was laughing, bright and clear. “Buried your mother’s ring? What a scamp! And you’ve been out here every afternoon liking for it since—and no wonder! It’s a lovely piece. May I?”

Geralt broke through the field in time to see Jaskier dancing with the wraith. She was a hollowed thing, burned by the sun, her hair bleached white. They turned once, then Jaskier lowered himself on one knee and, taking the wraith’s hand, slipped the ring onto her finger.

“There!” Jaskier said. “You know? Our rings almost make a pair.”

The wind blew and Jaskier appeared to be listening. He laughed, patting the wraith’s hands, and the wind stopped blowing. “Oh no, I’m afraid I’m spoken for. It would make a lovely engagement ring, but not to me. Even so, I don’t suppose a kiss would be amiss.” And so he leaned forward and kissed the wraith’s cheek, as if she were not a lifeless husk.

Geralt was stunned. It was … it was as if the wraith were speaking to Jaskier. He watched the two of them start up the dance again. He’d witnessed the dancing of noonwraiths before, and their victims screamed in horror until their final breath. The wraith made them dance in a mad frenzy until they fell to the ground, dead from exhaustion and terror. This dance was a frolic, full of laughter. It was unhurried as Jaskier allowed himself to be twirled round and round. When the dance came to an end, it had not been any more than the length of a song. Jaskier tilted his head, listening while the wind whistled in the field.

“So soon?” he asked. “Well, I thank you for the lovely dance. You be sure to tell your sister to mind her manners for me, won’t you? I’ve got to head back myself before I give my witcher a fright. I—oh, there she is now!”

Geralt turned to look where Jaskier was waving, but he saw nothing at all.

“You mind your sister,” Jaskier said, wagging a finger at the empty air. “You’re much too old to be getting up to these tricks.”

And at once, Geralt understood. Jaskier was a poet. There were poets in this world who were made of a different cut—who could see beyond the limits of the physical world. The banshee, the barghest, the wraith … and Geralt was sure even now that Jaskier was shaking his finger in the face of a ghost. They were all of the other realm.

He had sight.

Jaskier waved as the wraith began to fade through the field, disappearing. “Take care!” he called. “And be careful on your way. There’s a contract in town, so there’s trouble about somewhere. Have no fear, we’ll be sure to make everything safe, my witcher and I.”

At that, Geralt snorted, and Jaskier turned his head.

Jaskier turned pale at once, clutching his hands to his chest. “Ger—I can explain, Geralt!” he stammered. “I swear, I would have stayed in the barn, but this little girl came in and she stole my ring right off my finger! It’s my father’s ring, and I couldn’t just let … her …” Jaskier blinked, staring at Geralt, perplexed. “Are you laughing?”

Indeed Geralt was. All the stress from the last three months bubbled up and escaped as laughter, shaking his shoulders.

Jaskier chuckled along nervously. “I would have thought you’d be furious with me for running out. Erm … did you finish your contract then?”

Geralt clapped an arm around Jaskier’s shoulder. “I’d say you finished it for me today,” he corrected. “And I’ve just figured out the answer to your little curse.”

Jaskier perked up slightly, realizing he wasn’t in trouble just yet. “Is that so? Will you tell me then?”

“If you promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Geralt smiled and rubbed the ash from Jaskier’s lips with his glove. “Never,” he said, “kiss another noonwraith again.”

“Kiss a what?” Jaskier squawked.

[sonoftatooine]

Whumpay 2021

DAY 25: AMNESIA

Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala.

Warnings:  Brainwashing, implied/referenced torture

Summary: Sequel to Day 19 (Winter Soldier AU). Captured by the Rebellion after his failure to kill the Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi, Darth Vader, Imperial enforcer and Sith apprentice to Emperor Palpatine, is visited in his cell by Padmé Amidala, the woman claiming to be his wife.

***

“How are you feeling, Anakin?”

Darth Vader did not move from where he lay, staring blankly up at the ceiling above his cot in the high security cell that the Rebels had placed him in after his failure to eliminate the Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, some weeks ago. She asked him that each time she visited—Padmé Amidala, one of the founders of the Rebellion, and the woman who claimed to be his wife. Everyday, she came to see him, though he could never be quite sure of when her visit would be. She was quite late today—the droids that attended him had already given him his evening meal and his nightly dose of Force suppressants, and he had just reached the stage of feeling vaguely woozy from the renewed sensation of being cut off from his power when he heard the hiss of his cell door opening and closing, and the soft voice that had seemed ever so slightly familiar to him even as he heard it for the first time speaking in soothing, gentle tones. Here. The same as ever.

“I didn't think you were coming today” he said in lieu of an answer. His voice was hoarse and cracked from tiredness—a far cry from the intimidating bass that his mask's vocoder afforded him. It had been slashed in two by Kenobi's saber before he had been brought here. Kenobi, whose smug self assurance had turned to abject horror the moment he had seen his face. Kenobi, who had pleaded with him to remember him as he had tried to get his hands round his throat upon waking up in an unfamiliar cell surrounded by enemies—

“I'm sorry,” Amidala said. There was a rustle of fabric as she moved closer, coming to perch beside him on the cot. “There was some urgent business that I had to attend to. But I'm here now.”

Yes, Vader thought. You are. He turned his head to look at her—though she barely came up to his shoulder when they were both standing, lying prone as he was, she seemed to fairly tower over him. His instinct should be to flinch away, he thought, to keep his distance from his jailer, trapped in this cell as he was. But somehow, it wasn't. There was something, something— Besides, he had neither the will nor the energy to lift a finger, let alone anything else.

That was it. Yes, that was it.

“Are you alright?,” Amidala asked with a frown. “You don't look well.”

Alright? If he had been asked that before his capture by the Rebellion, he thought he could have said what that meant. Alright was a day that he hadn't made his master angry, hadn't brought any punishments on himself—no lightning, no choking, no dark cell. But now, here, everything was getting muddled up in his mind. He couldn't think like this, not when he was cut off from the Force and had no way of knowing lie from truth. She was close—so close—and he wished he could sense her intentions as he could with everybody except his m— No, so that he could escape this place and return to Lord Sidious with the leaders of the Rebellion in tow. That was what he wanted. It was.

And if he hadn't tried as hard as he might have done to escape, well, that was just because the Force suppressants were making him feel strange and it was hard to concentrate or— His eyelids drooped, heavy with exhaustion. He couldn't think about this right now.

“Tired” he replied, then froze. He hadn't intended to say that. Don't admit weakness. Sith don't have weakness. But there was something about Amidala that made him want to trust her, and he was far too exhausted and empty to fight against the urge.

“Did you not sleep well last night?” Amidala asked. Her hand twitched oddly at her side, as if she had instinctively started to reach for him and aborted the action before she could. She looked very sad, but she always looked sad.

“I don't sleep well” she admitted. He'd never slept well, for as long as he could remember. Nightmares plagued him—of his master's punishments, of his missions, and other, more elusive things that left him shaking and crying with terror but could never recall beyond vague impressions of deep darkness and red light and a vicious cackling in his ears once he woke. It was the latter that had haunted him last night, chasing him back into wakefulness whenever his eyelids so much as drooped shut. In the end, he had decided to forgo rest entirely, bundling himself up in the warm robe that Amidala had brought him, and waited for morning to come.

“You never did before, either,” Amidala said. “The war...”

She trailed off, suddenly distinctly misty-eyed. The war. He knew that she meant the Clone War. They told him he had fought in it as a General. A Jedi General. Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. He had met the man who had claimed to be his captain, briefly. Rex. And the woman who had supposedly been his padawan—Ahsoka Tano. She had cried when she'd seen him, even as she held him back from attacking her.

“I don't remember the war,” he murmured. He knew, vaguely, that he shouldn't be telling her all of this—if she was lying, revealing anything about his situation was only giving her further fodder for her deception, and that wasn't even taking into considering the general principle of not revealing information that could be used against you to your enemies. But there was something, that strong urge in his mind that he could neither identify nor understand, that was telling him he should be honest with her, should trust her. That it was both good and right to do so. Well, Lord Sidious had always said he was far too trusting, that it would be his downfall if his master were not there to prevent it. “My master told me I fought in it.”

He saw her flinch at the word “master”, biting down so hard on her lip he thought she might make it bleed. She looked as if she were about to cry. Of course, he knew what she thought of his master (she was wrong, naturally; his master had done everything for him, she was wrong, she had to be wrong), what she claimed he had done to him. If she was lying, he thought, she must be an excellent actor.

“Is that...all he told you?” She sounded like she was trying to stay calm, but he could hear the tremor in her voice.

“He didn't tell me much about...before,” Vader replied flatly. He had asked, sometimes, but his master didn't like questions. His hands shook at the memory of purple lightning burning through his veins. “He didn't think it was important.”

He certainly hadn't cared to tell him that he had once been a Jedi Knight. Which he wasn't. He had never been a Jedi. He hadn't. He was getting muddled, confused after weeks on end in this cell with no company but various Rebels regarding him with earnest looks and filling his head with equally earnest words about how he had been used and deceived and that they loved him and wanted nothing more than to help him heal from what the Emperor had done to him— No. No, it wasn't true. He wouldn't believe it. He wouldn't betray his master like that—his master to whom he owed everything. Everything. And yet...

And yet. There was something that didn't sit right in all of this. If he had fought in the Clone War as a powerful Force sensitive, surely he must have been a Jedi? If he had been a Republic soldier at least. All the Darksiders that fought in the war, as far as he was aware, had been Separatists. Surely he couldn't have been a Separatist? They had been evil, spreading chaos and carnage across the Galaxy to the point where his master had been forced to create the Empire to restore order and security when the ineffectual Republic proved less than capable, bogged down by its bureaucracy and over-reliance on the Jedi Order. But if neither were true, then surely he couldn't have fought in the war—not in an official capacity at least. But then, that must mean that, whichever way he looked at him, his master had lied to him and if his master had lied to him once—

No. He wouldn't allow himself to consider it. He wouldn't. His master hadn't lied to him. There was a reasonable explanation. There must be. There must be. Biting back the distressed little noise that was building in his throat, he squeezed his eyes shut, twisting his fingers together beneath the sleeves of his robes. His master hated it when he did that—he'd struck him on several occasions when he failed to suppress the nervous gesture—but Amidala didn't seem to mind it.

“Can I get you anything?,” she asked. “Anything that might help—?”

Vader shook his head.

“I don't need anything.”

“But do you want anything?”

The question had his eyes shooting back open as he turned back to stare at her, incredulous. Want anything? Want anything? He wasn't supposed to want things. He wanted what his master wanted, because he was to serve his master in all things and he owed his master everything—it would be low and ungrateful to want more than he was given—

He wanted...

He wanted...

He looked up at Amidala's beautiful face hovering above him, and he wanted more than anything for what she was saying not to be a lie. That he was her husband, that she loved him, and wanted him to be safe and well and protected from any who would try to hurt him—

No.

“I can't—” he gasped out. He could feel the edges of panic coming upon him, and with great difficulty, he forced himself to breathe slow and deep, counting the seconds as he did when these attacks came upon him. His master didn't like it when he— It was weakness and Sith didn't show weakness— He couldn't— “I...I don't know.”

The admission made him feel small and weak and pathetic, but it didn't seem as frightening with her as it would have done with his master. That, despite the fact that he knew it wasn't the answer she wanted, she wouldn't lash out like Lord Sidious did when he was displeased. All she did was smile at him sadly through a film of tears, giving him a tiny, barely perceptible nod.

“That's alright,” she said. “Would you like me to leave you to rest?”

“I...” Vader swallowed. He was suddenly aware of the fact that, faced with the prospect of her leaving, he really did not want her to go. He shouldn't, of course he shouldn't—his master would be so angry if he knew—but he didn't want— He couldn't ask her to— “Will you...will you stay?”

Amidala's eyes widened at the hesitant question, and for one long moment, he was sure he had made a horrible mistake, but then her face split into the first true smile he had seen upon it. Small though it was, and as hesitant as he felt, it seemed to him to be blinding in its intensity.

“Yes, Ani.” She reached out, slowly, carefully to cradle his flesh hand in both of her own. They were small and strong, the warmth of her touch pleasant against his skin. He did not pull away. “Yes, I'll stay with you. Try and get some sleep. I'll be here with you.”

That night, for the first time he could remember, he slept soundly, still holding onto her hand.

[copias-thrall]

Fucking one of the ghouls is like a reverse exorcism. You don't want the demon to be out of your body but want them come inside you (:

I adore whatever possessed you to send this ask, dear anon. ;)

*rough sex; vaginal penetration; cunnilingus/fingering; knotting; lots of cum*

It was your first day off in what felt like weeks. There was the influx of new Initiates following that Goore creature’s latest announcement (and hadn’t Imperator been livid he’d done so before Papa IV’s long-awaited—and unprecedented—second album), plus the plans for the autumnal equinox bacchanal were a clusterfuck, and then the whole mishap with the dorms for newly minted Siblings.

There were late nights and early morning—and late nights that turned into early mornings—and at some point you’d just started sleeping in the armchair in the tiny office that was yours. You were eating breakfast at 8pm and dinner at 4am, and at one point you just went outside and used a garden hose to rinse yourself off before getting back into it.

When your assistant had rolled in with her shadows and trundled you off to your room, you’d been irate…but after an actual shower, fresh clothes, and a solid 3hrs of sleep, you’ve come to see the sense in her actions.

You’re still antsy—still full of that anxious energy—and you haven’t seen your Ghoul since the madness started. As you rub your hand between your legs, you realize you know just how you can burn off that excess.

It��s a good thing the two of you have got going—both of you have high-pressure positions within the admin at the Abbey and with Sister Imperator being a micromanager, not a lot of wiggle room for delays or mistakes. A romp in the sheets multiple times a week with no expectations of dinners or dates is exactly what the both of you need to work hard and fuck harder.

And a good, hard fuck is just what you need right now.

You put on a cheap set of lingerie (he likes to rip it off you and you like to be cost effective), dab a bit of Santal 33 on your pressure points and between your breasts, and make your way down to the Ghoul dorms. 

Your heart beats with excited anticipation and your blood quickens with lust the closer you get.

No doubt all the Ghouls can smell it on you as you get a few lascivious winks and howls from the Ghouls and Ghoulehs you pass. But you just toss your hair, do a little twirl, and wink right back.

“I know,” you purr as you continue on your way.

You’re not 3 doors away when the door of his room slams open. His eyes glow low, and his chest heaves—but he makes no move to chase you. He simply tracks your movements as you grow closer, swinging your hips the whole way.

He stiffens as you purposefully brush against him when you slink into his room, and you hum out an Mmm, letting your fingers linger as they trail across his chest. You can feel more than hear the rumble that starts low there.

As soon as you’re in, he slams the door shut and locks it.

“Been too long,” he growls as he pushes his hard bulge into you.

“Has it? I hadn’t noticed,” you tease as you go easily into his touch; his one hand pulls you flush into the heat of him while the claws of the other sink into your hair to reveal your neck to him.

He licks at your pulse point. “Can smell you,” he counters, and then his other hand is pressing in between your legs. “Can feel you,” he pants into your ear.

You cover his hand with yours and show him how you want it as he nips at your delicate skin and sucks bruises into your neck. His cock ruts against your ass in time to your movements, and you suddenly want it in you like, last week.

He rumbles when he smells the spike in your arousal, and you let out an Ah when his hand comes up to tweak at your nipples.

“What do you want?” he asks as his hot breath tickles your ear.

You reach an arm back to sneak a hand up the back of his mask to scritch at the bottom of his horns, and he bites your earlobe.

“I want you to fill me up in more ways than one, Ghoul; I want you to possess my body in the name of the Olde One.”

He snarls and practically vibrates against you.

“The Dark Lord loves a willing body…I will claim you in his name as many times as you desire, Little Human.”

You turn and grab the obscene outline in his pants, and he hisses, his claws digging into your arms through your habit.

“I have the whole night off.”

His mouth finds yours in a crash of spit and teeth, and his hands tug at your habit. Even though you’d love to unzip those tight pants of his, you know if you don’t disrobe yourself, he’ll do it for you—and your habit isn’t cheap.

He still plucks at you as you pull away, but you still manage to get the habit over your head in one piece. Even expecting it, you still gasp when his strong hands tear first your panties and then your bra before you’ve managed to pull your head free from your garments.

And then his hot mouth is sucking on your nipples while his tail slips into your slit.

You let out an “Oh shit,” and you feel him fumble with his pants, and you have half a second to marvel at his coordination before he picks you up by the waist and tosses you onto his nest.

When you land, it’s with a bounce onto your stomach before he pulls you to the edge of the bed. His fangs scrape against your ass enough to sting deliciously and his teeth bite into you hard enough to bruise, but not break the skin. He slaps your ass for good measure before rolling you over by your thighs. 

Giving you a toothy grin, he says, “And let you feel the tongue of Satan’s,” before his forked tongue lolls out and wiggles into your entrance.

“ƨon ibυɒ ƨυmɒϱoɿ ɘt ɘɿivɿɘƨ ɘtɒtɿɘdil ƨɒiɔɒʇ idit ɒɿυɔɘƨ mɒυt mɒiƨɘlɔɔƎ!” you gasp, and your Ghoul growls low.

“Love it when you talk dirty to me,” he rumbles into your soft skin.

“tU ɘnimoႧ ƨon ɒɿɘdil ilodɒib ƨiibiƨni dA…oh…oh!”

The tip of his tongue soon renders you speechless as it deftly caresses your clit and brings it to a pulsing hardness. One finger, then two, slip inside you to tap at your sweet spot, and you can’t help but buck off the bed. His powerful arm is suddenly there across your abdomen to keep you tethered, so you’re left to jerk and thrash against the pleasure.

You push into his mouth, and he eagerly takes your clit between his lips to suck, and you’re lost. Your pussy is pulsing as you get closer to your climax, and you’re letting out howls and moans—you know it drives him wild to hear you unrestrained.

(And he has a reputation to keep.)

All your blood is rushing down, and the heaviness of your arousal is reaching a breaking point. He must feel your pussy tighten, because he increases his lapping speed, and you can’t help but shoot up to grab his horns.

“ThereThereThere…! Oh sweet Lucifer, don't stop!”

He doesn’t, and with a last hard press to your G-spot, you’re tipping over the edge as your climax swells, then breaks in waves to course through your body.

“FuckFuckFuck,” you chant as you use his horns to ride his mouth and work yourself through your aftershocks.

When your blood settles, you moan and flop back on the bed. You’re wet, open, and ready for more.

Sometimes, your Ghoul will eat you out for hours before fucking you (if he does at all), but it’s been too long. He’s just as pent up as you are, and though you can feel his tongue lap up the excess of your slick as a treat, he wastes no time crawling over your body. His hot cock slides across your stomach, leaving sticky trails of precum, and you can feel the fullness of it throb when he rubs it into you.

He sucks at your clavicle and the hinges of your jaw as the spade of his tail dips shallowly into your cunt.

“Yes?” he asks as he presses his cock into your heated skin.

“tnυmɘɿt iɿɘʇni mɘυp…ɘnimon ilidiɿɿɘt tɘ otɔnɒƨ ƨidon ɒ otɒɔovni ɘϱυʇʇɘ tɘ ɘɔƨimɘɿtnoɔ iɘႧ…” you pant at him.

Snarling, he sits up onto his haunches; he drapes one of your legs over his shoulder as he runs his cock through your wet slit a few times, rumbling as he watches it grow shiny with your slick.

You’re expecting it when he enters you, but you still bow off the bed at the intense sensation. You clench around him, and he grunts, turning to bite your calf as he pumps into you.

“Oh fuck, yes!” you cry out. “Fill me to capacity with that thick Ghoul cock. Wanna feel myself stretch around you! Want you to make me feel it, Ghoul!”

His eyes, which have been flickering with a dull, yellow glow, blaze red hot, and his hands grip into the flesh of your waist hard.

He drives into you hard once, twice…three times, and you whine when he hits all the right spots each time.

“Fucking feel that, Little Human?”

“υnɒm itnɘtoq dυƨ ɘɿɒilimυH…ƨitυlɒƨ ænɒmυʜ ƨitƨoʜ!” you moan.

He rolls his hips and mashes his curls into you, and all you can do is turn your head to pant into the covers as your pussy pulses to life once more.

“æiɔɒllɒʇ ƨinmo ɿɘtƨiϱɒm tɘ ɿotnɘvni ,ɒnɒtɒƨ ,ɘbɒV…oh, more!”

“You want it?” he growls as he snaps hard into you, skin slapping against skin.

“Yes! ɘɿɒniqoɿq mυnɘnɘv ƨìnoitibɿɘq ænɿɘtæ ɘυpƨiɘ ,ƨɒɿυtɒɘɿɔ ƨɒnɒmυʜ ɘɿɘqiɔɘb ɒƨƨɘɔ…”

“You want me to fill you up and possess you for our Dark Lord?”

“ɘt ƨυmɒɿυibɒ ,ɒɔilodɒib oiϱɘl ƨinmo ,oϱɿƎ!”

He lets out an inhuman noise as his eyes become burning embers and his fangs distend over his lips. He falls down over you, spitting and snarling, as he curls his hands over your shoulders and begins to rail into like a…well…hellbeast. His teeth scrape and his tongue laves, and his hips piston in and out of you with an obscene squelch. 

“ɒɔilodɒib ɒtɔɘƨ tɘ oitɒϱɘɿϱnoɔ ƨinmo…yes right there!” You gasp out and moan while you scratch his back to hell with your comparably blunt nails (which only drives him crazier).

Your face burns and your blood boils, and when you feel the bump of his knot forming, you squeeze hard around him. 

His hips stutter, and he mewls.

“oiϱɘl ƨinmo ,iiɿɒƨɿɘvbɒ ƨilɒnɿɘʇni oiƨɿυɔni ƨinmo ,ƨɒtƨɘtoq ɒɔinɒtɒƨ ƨinmo…oh Lucifer, more!”

“Gonna fill you up,” he snarls as he rolls his hips. “Gonna make you so full it leaks out around my knot and I can fuck you with it round and hard.” 

“Fucking fill me up so hard it comes out my mouth!” you scream.

“Gonna keep it swollen all night so I can tip you over and drink it out of you in the morning.”

“ƨυtiɿiqƨ ƨυbnυmmi ƨinmo ,ɘt ƨυmɒziɔɿoxƎ!”

Your Ghoul lets out a keening howl as he raises himself up onto his arms and shoves his knot into you. It’s a familiar sensation, but it still knocks the breath out of you every time, and you punch out all the air in your lungs. He bites hard into your shoulder as he grinds his pulsing knot into you, and the heat swirling in your gut isn’t just the sensation of your approaching orgasm.

He’s jerking around and rubbing himself all over you as he empties his knot into you. You yourself are flailing about and grinding into him—the pressure from his knot on your sweet spot a slow, unrelenting build. You’re gasping for breath as his teeth and claws light up your sensitive skin. The low whine from your throat has him moaning, and you feel his knot pulse again.

“Just like that, Little Human.” He grunts and rolls his knot into you. “Gonna keep you lit up all night.”

Your fingers scrabble first at his back, then slam down into the sheets as your climax hurtles toward you like a runaway freight train. When you cum again—your body jerking, hot with pleasure, and your cunt unable to get away from the exquisite pressure—he just sits up and grips your waist to keep you still.

“Squeeze,” he commands, and you do, clenching your walls as tight as you can against his still rock-hard knot. He twitches, his hips jerking into you as his knot kicks again. He lets out a series of staccato grunts, but his eyes remain fixed on your sweaty face and your rolling eyes.

“Don’t forget, Little Human…” he shifts until the pressure on your G-spot sends swirling sparks behind your eyes and you thrash against the bed. “I possess you until dawn…and we’re just getting started.”

Nema

[chokemeanakin]

A Reason to Stay

Anakin Skywalker x gn Reader (angst)

Masterlist

Wc: 1.6k

So I’m not open about this kind of stuff, and I never wanted to bring it to my blog because it’s supposed to be my safe & happy space. But I was struggling really bad last night, and I just got to writing (it’s my coping mechanism), and this was the result. I wasn’t going to post it, but then I thought it might help some other people going through tough times as well. So please, read the warnings and if you’re not comfortable with it then don’t read it. I only have good intentions, but I understand that this could be triggering for some people.

Again, if you’re a mutual that regularly reads and reblogs my work, please don’t feel obligated to this time. It covers very sensitive topics so only read if you’re okay with it.

WARNINGS (please read!)- sad reader, depressed reader, mentions of suic!dal thoughts, and mental health struggles

Prevention hotline for all countries

(Gif from @haydenchristensengifs )

Sometimes, it all got to be too much. The thoughts would trickle in like a slow snowfall, and then the clouds would come and the wind would pick up and suddenly there was a whole tempest, the sun blotted from the sky and your mind swarmed in darkness. It was as if you were suffocating beneath heaps of snow, although you couldn’t feel the cold. You were numb, unfeeling, but deep in the core of your body, your soul screamed in agony.

Even just showering was difficult. On this particular day, you managed to get yourself in to clean up, but found tears dripping down your face halfway through, mingling with the warm spray. As soon as you realized you were crying, it was as if the monster inside of you broke free. It burst through the prisons that you had so desperately chained it up in, and began to devour you whole. Your throat closed up, chest squeezing, limbs aching, as the pain claimed every inch of you.

Why did you have to be like this? Why couldn’t you just be normal? You didn’t understand why you had to feel this way, why you had to hurt so much. It was all too overwhelming, and you struggled to see the point of trying anymore if this is all it got you.

You turned the shower knob, cutting the water off before you accidentally stayed in there for hours. Your eyes stared blankly ahead as you got dressed, wrangling the demon back down, building over it, locking it back up. But tonight was a bad night. You could feel it, the hopelessness of it all clawing at you in the back of your mind.

Thoughts popped into your head, and they provided some relief. And then they started to scare you. What were you thinking?

You had two choices, and it could really go either way. One, you could listen to that demon and follow along that dark path, and see just where it could take you. Maybe it would provide an escape from the crippling pain inside you, release you from your prison and give you that sweet relief you could only dream about.

Or, you could get help.

That option didn’t seem as pleasing to you, but you didn’t want to give in to the darkness. It pulled at you, but something stronger pulled you out of that bathroom and into Anakin’s room.

He was putting his uniform away in his dresser when you walked in, shaking and crying, and hugging yourself so hard you were sure to leave bruises on your sides. He turned as he sensed you, face immediately falling as he took in your state.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?”

You stood in his doorway, crumbling beneath the weight of his gaze. It had taken so much strength and courage for you to come to him— this was you admitting you needed help, admitting that you wanted to keep fighting the darkness. Now, you put your trust in Anakin that he would help you the rest of the way.

“I just... can you just...” you weren’t sure what you were asking. You just needed him to be there.

He understood.

Anakin rushed over and threw his arms around you, rocking you back and forth on the spot. He hugged you so tight to his body that you could hardly breathe, and just for a moment his warmth chased the demon away.

His arms were strong and he smelled of soap. He had just taken a shower too, and his sleep clothes were soft against your cheek. You closed your eyes and clung to him tightly, your crying becoming uncontrollable.

“What hurts, baby?” his tone was hushed, thick with concern. He could sense the waves of pain rolling off of you, but couldn’t find any wounds.

“Everything. It hurts so bad,” you sobbed. Your breath shuddered, and you buried your face further into his chest, voice muffled as you added, “I can’t do it anymore.”

Anakin’s heart wrenched as he held your trembling body. He wanted to move you to the bed, but he was afraid you would crumble to the ground. Whatever was hurting you, he could tell it was terrible, and he wanted nothing more than to take the pain away.

“Anakin,” you sobbed again. You couldn’t force any more words out, but the broken sound of his name tumbling from your lips screamed your message loud and clear. Help me.

“Shhh, I’m here. You’re okay. Nothing’s going to hurt you,” Anakin rubbed a hand up and down your shuddering back. His cheek rested against the top of your head, hushing you over and over as you broke apart in his arms. Talk to me, he wanted to say, but he was almost certain that would only make it worse. Tell me what you need.

By the way you melted into his body, your fingers digging into his flesh, he already knew the answer. You just needed him to hold you for now, to remind you what being warm felt like, what being alive felt like. And it was working. The thoughts that had been barraging you, telling you that you were worthless and that nobody would care if you were gone began to hush in time with his strokes. Even with the demon now wrangled into its cage, the aftershocks of its pain remained. You had thoroughly scared yourself, and the crying would not let up.

You’re not sure when Anakin managed to relocate you to the bed. One minute you were standing in the doorway, the next he had pulled you into his lap on the bed, keeping you buried into his chest with a hand to your head. His other hand massaged soothing patterns into your back, grounding you from the swirling tempest inside.

Coming to him was the right choice. You’re not sure where you would be right now if it weren’t for him, and you’re not sure you could survive another round of this if he wasn’t there to hold you through it in the future.

“Please don’t leave me,” you begged, the thought of being alone again frightening you. You didn’t mean just now— you meant ever.

“I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”

“Do you mean it?” you pulled back, looking at him through tear-brimmed eyes. “You have to promise. I can’t do this alone.”

“I promise. I love you.”

Those words. They punched a hole through your heart, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing. Your throat released a strangled whimper as your fists tightened on his shirt, a fresh wave of tears gushing from your eyes. Anakin released a hand to hold your face, wiping them away as fast as they dripped down your cheeks.

“Please, Y/n, you’re scaring me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You knew your next words were going to hurt him. But you couldn’t hold the burden on your own shoulders anymore— he deserved to know why you were acting this way, and the only way he could help was if he knew the full extent of your torments.

“I just need a reason to stay.” Your voice came out weak, broken. You could feel his chest hitch, a cold fear trickling down his spine.

You couldn’t mean...

“I’ll be your reason,” his answer was immediate. His panic resurfaced, tears pricking at his eyes as the full realization of what you meant sunk in. How had you been keeping this a secret from him for so long? How had he not noticed?

He had let your pain slip right past him, right under his nose, this whole time. He had failed you, and now he had to make sure he never let you go again.

“You asked for a reason. Y/n, let me be your reason.”

His heart thundered against his chest. Each beat called out for you— Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go. How could he take your pain away? How could he make it all better? Would his promise be enough to save you?

You gasped through another round of sobs, forehead falling against his collarbone. The pain in his voice— you hated putting him through it. But it was helping, his words were helping, and you clung to each syllable like they formed a lifeline.

“I won’t ever leave you, but that means you can’t ever leave me. Deal?” He needed you to look at him, to know you were hearing his words, and that he meant them. He waited until you could breathe again, and then brought your face back up to meet his. His eyes burned bright with a fierceness you had only ever seen when he was on the battlefield. Behind that, they shone with the tears of an intense, desperate fear.

“Y/n, you have to stay.”

Anakin was begging you, just like you had been begging him. The weight in your heart was still there, but your resolve cracked. You nodded. You would stay another day, another night, another everything as long he asked you to. He was enough— he would be your reason.

And while this was not the end of the darkness, or any battle for that matter, it gave you hope— you did not have to fight alone anymore. When you could not find the strength inside of yourself to go another day, he was more than willing to give you some of his. One thing was made certain, the silent promise ringing loud and clear between your shaking breaths and the beat of his resolute heart— he was never letting you go.

Endnote:

This was super personal for me to put on here, so please be nice about it. Also, I do not intend to convey the message that a boy’s love can save you. I just wanted to write about how it’s okay to get help, and sometimes that help is having another person be there for you. That being said, you shouldn’t rely on another person as your sole source of happiness forever, but if that’s what you need to make it another day, then do it.

If you’ve made it this far, then know that I love you and you’re not alone, no matter how alone you feel. My messages are always open, and I’ll be right here if you ever need a reason to stay. ❤️

[silma-words]

Hey if you’re still accepting prompts then can you do #2 and #19 from prompt list 1

N/A: Thank you so much for the prompts Anon, and sorry for the delay! I hope you will like this, and that you are ready for some angst! :)

~~~~~

Choices: Bloodbound

Pairing: Adrian Raines x MC (Ellie)

Rating: PG / Warning: None

Genre: Angst

AU Chronology: Bloodbound AU (after book 1 – the events of book 2 never happened) – ‘Inevitable - Arc II: About time’ (Masterlist) - Sequel to "The right thing to do" and “Seventy-two”.

Summary: She was ready to leave everything behind, but Adrian shows up at her door step.

Inspired by prompts #2 and #19 from Prompt List #1: 2: “Please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry”; 19: “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me”

Words: 2900

**Disclaimer: Characters and background plot are the property of Pixelberry.**

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

Picking up the pieces

What the hell was he doing here? Why now? Why did it take him that long to do what she had been hoping he would for over two months? What was he expecting of her? Drop all of her plans and crawl back to him after he had shattered her heart?

Unable to control the flow of questions that were rushing through her head, Ellie was shaking. Her back still against the door that she had quickly shut in Adrian’s face after finding him crouching on her doorstep, she could not stop the flow of tears either.

It had been so hard for her to wrap her mind around Adrian’s unilateral decision to end whatever was blooming between them and find a way to pull herself together, she now felt dragged back to that night in his apartment where he had delivered the blow. Just like that night, she felt her body being twisted and pulled apart in every direction from the inside, confusion mingling with anger, hurt, heartbreak, and love.

Why did he have to come back here and plunge another knife into the wound had barely started to heal? Wasn’t she doing what he wanted? He wanted her to chase her dreams and get out in the world without him tying her back, and that was what she was forcing herself to do. That’s why she had decided to take a leap and try her luck away from America, on neutral ground. Why would he change his mind now that she was about to leave? Had he always expected her to remain in his midst, close enough so she would never forget him? Close enough for him to reach her if he ever changed his mind? Or had he been waiting for her to come back to him all along?

*Ellie… please… Please come home… I miss you*

The sound of Adrian’s voice from the other side of the door tore through her. It brushed aside the million questions that had been invading her head as it reminded her how defeated he had looked at her feet in the corridor just a few minutes before. It was such a clear contrast with the resignation that she had read in his eyes the night he had delivered the blow.

She had believed him when he had claimed that this decision had been difficult for him as much as for her, but somehow part of her had tried to convince herself that he did not want her as much as she wanted him. That he had known that she was in it deeper than he was, and had been kind enough to end it before she relied on him too much. He had never hinted as much, but to her, it made more sense and hurt a little less than to believe that he had been really willing to sacrifice what they had just to give her a chance at a normal, mortal life. He had claimed he wanted her safe. But safe from the dangers of supernatural beings, or safe from the heartbreak that he would inevitably cause her?

Now that he was here, begging for her to come back to him, she was even more lost than when he had left her with no hope to convince him to let her stay. Her entire body physically ached at the thought of Adrian waiting desperately for her to answer his plea. But the idea of facing him filled her with dread.

Would she be strong enough to push him away? Did she want to? Would she even be able to reason properly and decide what to do with him standing before her?

She could feel his presence behind her despite the wooden door separating them. It was heavy. It was familiar. It was tearing a hole through her chest at the thought that he might turn around and leave before she could hear what he had to say. She could not ignore him a minute longer.

Drawing a deep breath, she wiped the tears from her cheeks, straightened herself and fumbled with the lock with trembling hands, bracing herself as she slowly opened the door. The guilt and yearning that she found in his eyes the second their eyes met drew her breath away, as if she had taken a punch straight to her guts. As much as she had wanted him to hurt as much as she did, it was a sight that made it all even worse. God, she cared way too much for that man.

“Adrian, I…” she started feebly, not sure what she really wanted to say. “I don’t understand what you want from me… I did as you asked…”

His silence was terrifying. He did not seem able to move away from the door frame, staring at her in shock as if his earlier plea behind the door had stunned him as much as it had her. Or was he surprised that she had accepted to face him, one last time?

“Adrian, please…. You have to explain, I… I… what the hell do you want?”. She had aimed her last words to be sharp and assertive, but they only came out as a desperate whisper. That seemed enough to shake him from his trance.

Closing the space between them, he wrapped his arms around her without a word, cradling her against his chest so tightly that she thought he might crush her. He let out a heavy sigh, burying his nose in her hair and swaying them both gently from side to side, as if trying to shake a nightmare away. A nightmare that they had both shared and were desperately trying to wake up from.

Ellie wanted nothing more than to let him sooth that ache away and forget all about the past two months. She would have never thought that the feel of his body against hers and the scent of him surrounding her could have so much power, stronger than any balm, any medicine, or any drug that had ever been designed to relieve unbearable pain. She felt like she could just fall asleep right there, lulled by the vibrations of his heartbeat and by the way his chest was heaving against her ear with every dragged breath that he took.

“I am so sorry, Ellie…” he finally spoke, a soft whisper blowing through her hair.

*I am sorry*. Words that she had been craving to hear from his lips but that now sounded like a joke to her ears. No matter how good it felt to be in his arms again, she could not forget the pain and anger that had been eating her up for weeks because of him. She could not let him win her over like this so easily. She would never forgive herself if she did.

Pressing her palms flat on his chest, she gently pushed against him to force him to take a few steps back and let her look at him in the eyes.

“What are you sorry about, exactly?” she asked, her voice sturdier now that she felt confident enough to confront him. “Sorry that you pushed me away? Sorry that you hurt me? Or sorry that I am leaving because of you?”.

She could see the hurt flashing through his eyes at her words, although guilt was still masking his beautiful features painfully.

“I am sorry for all of it, Ellie.”. There was no hesitation in his voice. No lie and no false chivalry. She could tell that he was offering her the whole truth. “And I am sorry that I never left you a choice in this, that I assumed that I would know better what would be good for you… I was so wrong… so wrong…”.

He tried to reach for her, but she took a step back, wincing, and shaking her head slightly.

“What makes you think now that you were wrong? Has anything changed between now and the night you told me I needed to move out from your life? Am I any less mortal? Are you any less of a vampire? Is your life any less dangerous now?”.

Adrian looked like she had slapped him. Turning against him the arguments he had used to make her leave was the last thing she wanted to do, but she knew she had to. His words were engraved in her mind forever, and she was convinced that not even Scholar Jameson would be able to erase that from her memories. The words had burned so slowly and so bright through her skull throughout the past two months that they had become a truth that she had forced herself to accept.

“No, you’re right” Adrian conceded. “These things have not changed. There is still so much that I wish a life with me could not deprive you of, but… what changed is that I thought I could be strong for the both of us by letting you go, but… I was fooling myself… I cannot stand the idea of you moving away while I never really gave you a choice in this….”

“So…” she started tentatively, raising an eyebrow betraying her confusion. “This is about giving me back my right to choose? I could either go and start a new life somewhere else, or stay here and get back to you?”

Adrian nodded silently, letting the idea sink in her head.

Not having to make a choice had somehow made things easier for her before. She could not have done anything else but to move on. But now that he was here and offering her a way back to him, she was clueless about what to do. She felt raw, exposed, vulnerable. His piercing blue eyes seemed to be digging through her soul, trying to read her mind and to find the emotions she had been desperate to hide.

“What do you want Ellie?” he asked softly, raising a tentative hand towards hers to reach her cheek. “This is what I should have asked you from the start, and I am sorry I didn’t. So I am asking you now: what do you want to do, Ellie? What does your heart tell you to do?”

She closed her eyes, letting her cheek lean into his touch, forcing her breath to calm down to find the strength to finally pull out of her these words that she had wanted to say for so long. “Adrian, I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me.”

She felt her body weaken at her admittance, feeling more vulnerable and exposed than ever before now that her heart was on display before him, bare and beating erratically in despair.

As if knowing this, Adrian instantly wrapped his other arm around her waist to pull her back against him, preventing her from seeing the reaction on his face, but allowing her to feel him tremble against her, and to hear his heartbeat mirror the irregular pattern of hers.

But she could not stand the silence. Nor could she stop the flow of thoughts and doubts that now seemed to want to pour out of her soul now that her love for him was all out in the open.

“Maybe you were right, Adrian.” She whimpered against his collarbone, repressing the urge to cry at the realisation that Adrian’s doubts and worries had now taken siege in her mind like weeds with ever-growing roots. “Maybe us was all too much, all too soon…. I don’t…. I think it would just consume me if I stayed and then you changed your mind and pushed me away again….”.

She felt Adrian jerk against her, his hold on her tightening dangerously as she heard him swallow painfully. “I won’t… I promise…”. His voice was rough, nearly strangled, betraying the emotions that were clearly overtaking him.

“How do you expect me to believe that?” she insisted, blocking her tears by burying her eyes into his shirt as deep as she could. “The situation is the same… nothing has changed… you think that now because you think irrationally but… we both know your doubts will never truly go away…”.

For a moment she thought he had stopped breathing, his hand in her neck tightening to the brink of pain, and his face sinking at the top of head as if he was trying to smother his breath in her hair. When he finally relaxed and released his hold to bring trembling hands around her head, there was nowhere left for him to hide his tears as he leaned to rest his forehead against hers.

“I will never push you away again… I promise… I don’t think I could even if I wanted to…” he breathed against her lips, his tears now falling freely from his lashes to her cheeks, a vivid testimony of the truth behind his words.

Bringing her hands to frame his face, she gently stroked her thumbs against his wet skin, before tentatively pushing forward to get closer to his lips, close enough to feel their shaking breaths mingle and their damp eyelashes brush each other’s skin.

“Please don’t cry”, she murmured with a feeble smile. “I can’t stand to see you cry”.

When their mouths finally met, it was the most gentle and careful caress that she had ever experienced. It was like discovering the softness of his skin for the very first time, and the way he moved against her felt like he was exploring every inch of her lips one at a time, as if trying to draw a map so that he could never forget his way back to them.

Their kisses were short, a little weak and breathless, the salt of their tears gradually invading their mouths as they could not refrain from caressing each other’s skin, smearing the wet trails of their tears with their fingertips.

This felt so familiar and yet so foreign, the intensity of what she felt threatening to make her crumble at his feet if he ever released his hold on her. Would she ever be able to reason and think straight when she was in his arms? In this moment, she did not care. All she wanted was to relish every breath, every shiver, and every tremor coursing through him, pressing her body as close to him as she could to let him feel how much her love for him was possessing her.

“Ellie...” he whispered against her lips between two kisses, his gaze betraying the exhaustion he felt from everything that just happened, but filled with a softness that seemed to wrap her like the softest fabric that could ever be made. “You have no idea how much I love you and how much I missed you...”.

If she had dared to doubt his words, his next kiss would have proved her otherwise, as she felt his entire being shake with relief and the tension instantly leave his bones, as if these unspoken words had been a burden that he would not have been able to carry any further. His warm lips had captured hers avidly, hungrily, gentle but yet urging and demanding, roaming and pressing against hers as he was relinquishing the last remaining bit of restraint that had been holding him back.

Ellie was gasping for breath but she did not care. She was blinded by the raw emotions that were washing over her in the darkness of the room. Mere minutes before, it had been like she was being slowly dragged underwater, weakened and bared by her admission that she loved him. Now, it felt like she had finally been yanked out of the terrifying depths by the strength of a few words, Adrian’s confession filling her lungs like the air she had been gasping for.

“I missed you so much”, he kept repeating between kisses, unable to stay still or silent anymore, and probably eager to make sure she believed his promises to never push her away again. “I missed you so much, please... come home with me”.

Staring into his eyes as she was finally able to steady herself and catch her breath, she could not repress the smile that was starting to form on her lips at the sight his beautiful dishevelled face, love, warmth and tenderness finally finding their place back in her chest after weeks of being forbidden to take a seat too close to her heart.

She was not entirely sure yet what she was going to do with her choice, but she surely could not ignore what she felt for Adrian anymore. Tonight, they had laid the shattered pieces of their hearts at their feet, and picked up the largest pieces, hand in hand, willing to start putting them back together one at a time. Whether they could mend their hearts together, side by side, or whether they would have to do this alone, was something that only time would tell. But for now....

“I am home”, she simply answered his request, her voice soft and calmer now, her eyes darting across his face to take in all of the tiny perfections and imperfections she had missed so much. “Stay with me, please, Adrian... Stay with me tonight”.

~~~~~

N/A: Thank you again Anon for the prompt, and thank you for anyone who read it all the way! This segment is far from over, so more should come soon, hopefully!

If you liked it, any comments and/or reblogs would be deeply appreciated! J

~~~~~

Tagging @adriansbiss , @itsjustwinter , @shanzay44 , @purvishraick, @thefrenchiemama

@choicesficwriterscreations

[zellerysworld]

hii! can I request levihan headcanons? loved the vets trio one,, thank youu♥️

Levihan Headcanons

[A/n: Hi, Thank you for being my first requester! I’m a huge fan of Levihan myself and I’m drafting a fanfiction for them. I really hope you like my headcanons about the ship! Thank you :) ]

If you’d like to see more of my content, my inbox is open for fanfic commissions and headcanon commissions. I love taking request so request whatever you’d like!

Contains Sexual themes.

Pictures not edited by me. Credit to the owners.

_________________________________

Levi Ackerman

Levi fucking a d o r e s Hanji.

Like he sits there and calls her names like shitty glasses and four eyes, but in reality he is screaming on the inside because he loves her eyes.

One time she didn’t wear her glasses at night and ran into a door. Levi showed his soft side for like 5 minutes because he actually got scared she hurt her head when she was just laughing about it

Usually when in public and she hurts herself, he acts unfazed. But in private he turns into a little mom-

But 9/10 when she actually does something stupid as fuck he seriously isn’t fazed anymore

When they take showers together, he really likes to wash her hair. He claims it’s satisfying because her hair is so soft.

Levi and her don’t sleep together much because they are always super busy, but when they do, Levi is a l w a y s the little spoon

But that’s okay because hange doesn’t mind being big spoon

One day he told her if she didn’t brush her teeth then he would never kiss her again and she got really upsetti spaghetti

But she did it anyways-

These guys FUCK LIKE RABBITS- like when I say they don’t stop; they just d o n t.

Like for some reason when they are together, it can go on for ages and they both still have fun

I mean yes they climax multiple times but these dudes just l o v e to fuck on another level that’s seriously scary

Levi lives for the fact Hanji is a switch-

One time Hanji slipped some weak whiskey into his tea, and Levi didn’t notice because he was too tired. He ended up plastered because he’s such a lightweight and she had to take care of him for the rest of the night

When they both get a day off together, they like to go for walks.

Hanji talks about Titans the entire time and Levi just sighs and listens

He doesn’t have much to talk about so he enjoys listening to her ramble forever.

Levi really appreciates the fact that Hanji is super intelligent. He himself isn’t too academically smart so being with someone who is that way is very refreshing to him.

He actually never dated anyone until meeting Hanji

Sometimes he fantasizes about marrying her to help him fall asleep/deal with his insomnia

When he sleeps with her, he sleeps like a rock and doesn’t get nightmares

He has definitely been cradled before by Hanji from having PTSD attacks

Hanji tries to make him tea but it never comes out good.

He still drinks it and pretends it’s the best tea he’s ever had-

But usually they are dead honest with each other. Hurting each other’s feelings in nearly impossible because they are both super sarcastic

Now that I think about it, their flirting would be through sarcasm

Loves to dance with Hanji to Classical music.

Levi relies on Hanji to spill tea about the drama going on with the kids in the survey corps

It’s literally how he knows everything about them- I mean yes he’s very intelligent in the matter of reading people but he’s a captain, he’s too busy to focus on them 24/7

But Hanji happens to figure out everything and blabber it all to him so it’s a win/win situation-

_________________________________

Hanji Zoë

Dear god does Hanji love this man

She thinks she started to fall for him when he walked away from her when she started to talk about Titans.

Why that of all things? Apparently to her that meant she got to “chase her prey”

I mean Hanji is slightly insane so it makes sense to me

anYWHO- Hanji has been through really bad relationships in her past so she was scared of falling for Levi

But Levi treats her really well in bed and out ;)

She actually trusts Levi more than anyone

Hanji really likes to message his hands for some reason

She claims they are soft like baby hands

Levi gets really annoyed when she says that-

One time she brought Levi breakfast in bed on his first day off in over a month and it made him almost cry

Like he was so happy that she did that-

Hanji is actually bad at cooking but she tries super hard. Levi knows this so he eats her food no matter how bad the taste is

Honestly they were a match made in heaven because of the fact he grew up in the underground so therefore he can stomach anything and everything with an unphased look. Including hanjis food

She has fantasized about Levi being a Titan shifter and wOW

Some nights Hanji cries because she constantly thinks and overthinks things like if Levi gets eaten

But Levi always finds her when she does cry (she goes and hides in a secret place like a closet) and holds her

So yes, he has held a crying Hanji in his lap while sitting in a closet

She tries to hide when she cries because she thinks if Levi sees she has a weak side then he won’t love her anymore like her ex’s did

Poor baby 🥺

But Levi comforts her nonetheless because of the times she has been there to comfort him

Her favorite drink is when Levi makes her Tea and puts a spoonful of honey in it.

There was a time when they both got sick and they had to take care of each other

When on her period and cramps are worse than usual, she forces Levi to carry her around like a kid

Levi goes out to the market and tries to find carrot cake for her before she even ask for it because he knows exactly what she likes.

As a prank she bought Levi the most expensive and nicest of cleaning supplies for his birthday...

But he didn’t think it was a prank and actually loved the gift-

She ended up pretending that it wasn’t a prank and saving his actual gift for some other time

Has a tiny plant growing in her office that she named after him

Levi doesn’t like that she named her plant after him and gets frustrated about it

So instead she pokes jabs at his name by calling the plant tiny-

Everytime they brawl/train together, after a few minutes of going back and forth she does some dirty trick to make him lose attention and it works

Hanji usually ends up on top but he’s starting to get used to her tricks now

But it always ends with them having a massive make out session so-

She actually taught Levi how to slow dance

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Okay that’s all. I hope you liked it!

[achaoticeternal]

willow // r. weasley

RON WEASLEY X READER folklore/evermore series masterlist

Summary: Ron, Harry, and Hermione have always been your closest friends. But as we grow up and people change, how do our feelings change? Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: time jumps and weird flows but it makes sense so that the story can build. harassment. gushy love stuff (gross) A/N: based on the song willow by taylor swift

As the years passed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, students would flourish into adolecense making them young fools for years to come. But as you often quoted to your dear friend Hermione, “We are all fools in love” - Jane Austen.

“Well if we are simply all fools in love, then tell me where is your knight in shining armor?” The young witch teased you as you sat in the courtyard, reading and simply enjoying each other’s company. 

“Oh, please, Hermione. You know me better then to be some dimwitted girl who chases around a boy who is oblivious to her affections. In fact, I feel bad for the girls who do, because if they were a little more patient, they would see that good things come in due time.”

“Really? And which prized author said that?”

“I did!” The pair of you snickered as your attentions drifted around to see if you could spot the topic of your conversation.

The two of you seemed to be the only fourth year girls who hadn’t taken fascination with boys in your year or older. Every day in the Gryffindor Common Room, many girls gossiped about the latest drama that had developed and which boys they swear fancied them. And though you enjoyed chatting with your female peers, you and Hermione had felt quite left out of the crushes and strange romances beginning to blossom.

Well, you both were left out until Viktor Krum swept Hermione off her feet, and you couldn’t exactly be mad at her for it. In fact, when she confided in you about her fling with the foreign man, you were completely ecstatic as you both giggled at how the other girls at Hogwarts would react. Jealousy took quite a toll on many girl, and apparently a few men. 

And even furthermore to Ron’s surprise, both of you had gotten dates to the Yule Ball before Harry or himself could ask you. Roger Malone, a kind Ravenclaw who you had Divination with, had asked you and you did have a wonderful evening. Even if Ron persistently made snide remarks about him before, during, and after the ball had concluded.

However, your fourth year and seemingly most dangerous year at Hogwarts, was quickly coming to a close with the students of Beauxbaton and Durmstrang leaving just a few days ago. The Summer Holiday was coming up quicker than you expected and soon your small group of friends would all be returning to your homes.

“Everything is going to change now, isn’t it?” Hermione asked our group of four after our international peers has departed.

“Yes, but we have each other.”

Once you had stepped of the Hogwarts Express, your parents whisked you away to the family summer cottage so that you could forget the grief of the past year. From watching the trials of the tournament, to puberty, and to loosing a classmate; life was quickly moving forward and your parents began to fear the return of The Dark Lord. 

Yet instead of being caught up with family time and walks along the beach, your mind counted down the days until you would be spending time with the Weasley family again before classes started. You always felt welcomed by the family of gingers and were thrilled that you were invited back after attending the Quidditch World Cup with them last summer.

For the last month, you had been owling your friends weekly, yet you seemed to be sending and receiving owls from Ron every other day. He had never been much of a writer, but claimed in his letters that he was extremely bored with the twins now being of age and not seeing his friends yet that summer.

When it became closer to time, Ron wrote to you saying that the Weasley’s had temporarily moved to a town home in the city, but that you were still welcome to join. He then wrote that his mother had owled your parents about the change and your arrangements to join the Weasley’s before school began.

And before you knew it, you were heading the Grimauld Place.

“(Y/N), darling, its time for us to go!” Your father called down from the bottom of the stairs.

You stomped down the stairs in your new summer clothes, rushing next to your parents at the fireplace. Your clothes and bags had already been sent off and now you’re parents would be sending you off as well.

“Change of plans, dear. We will be join you and the Weasley’s until dinner.”

“Alright, is everything okay?”

“Oh yes, everything is fine. We just have to attend a brief meeting and then we’ll be out of your hair.”

You and your parents arrived in the Kitchen of the hidden apartment without a hitch. Both Weasley parents along with their son, Bill, stood closest to you. From where you stood, you could also see Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Professor Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and to your surprise, Professor Snape.

“My heavens, its good to see you, (Y/N). Ron is upstairs, along with Hermione and Harry who only arrived in the past hour.” As soon as you had arrived, Mrs. Weasley had ushered you out of the room and shut the door quickly.

You looked around the dark hallway in order to try and get some idea of the flat you would be staying in for the next couple of weeks. Your gaze moved to the stairs and you began to stalk over to them and slowly make your way up, observing the wall paper and where it started to peel away from the wall. You had made it up the the landing, looking over strange vases and jars. 

Their was a faint whisper that you nearly missed, “Bloody hell.” Suddenly there were foot steps rapidly approaching you, yet your feet remained in place, your body unmoving, “(Y/N)!,” you body turned quickly towards the voice. Ron and you were chest to chest, nearly clashing into each, the red head beaming down at you as he pulled you into the hug. 

Ron had grown quite a few inches over the summer, now making him comfortably taller than you. His once long hair and been trimmed up and framed his face nicely, but still kept a boyish length that matched his personality. His embrace was warm as he pulled you tight to his chest, making your cheeks flush a dusty pink. You took the opportunity to breathe in his scent; cinnamon, flannel, and a crackling fire met your nose. Ron hadn’t completely changed, but he was certainly grown from the boy you had last seen near two months ago. It was new, like the warmth now in your chest.

“Oh-ho, look what we’ve walked into, Fred,” George called out from the end of the hallway.

“The two love birds are reuniting, George, we must not dare interrupt them,” Fred teased, the pair of them now approaching.

Ron had released his grip on you and glared at his brothers, his features showing his irritation, “Will you two bug off?” His freckled cheeks burned a deep crimson, leaving you questioning if it was out of embarrassment or that you two were caught in such close proximity. 

“Don’t be such a git, Fred, now that Angelina has broken up with you, again,” Ginny teased the twin as she approached you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Harry and Hermione are in the other room,” Ron said and whisked you off after departing for Ginny. His fingers intertwined with yours as he he tugged you down the hallway with dull walls.

After reuniting with your friends and the meeting in the kitchen being adjourned, it was time for the group to either join for dinner, or depart. Your parents decided to depart shortly after the meeting and bidding you a sweet goodbye along with a few other members. However there was still quite a crowd that Molly had left to feed. 

Once dinner had concluded after much laughter and discussing the past summer and what this upcoming school year held, people began trickling away from the dinner table. This left just the Weasley family, Harry Sirius, Hermione, and yourself.

“Well, Ron, it is your turn for dish duty tonight,” Molly told her youngest son while levitating all the dishes towards the sink.

“I can help you if you’d like,” You looked to Ron who was sitting in front of him.

“(Y/N), dear, you don’t have to do that. You are a guest here. Ron will be able to handle it.”

“Well, she is welcome to join me by staying in the kitchen or help,” He smiled warmly at you and a new found warmth spread through your chest. Never had such a feeling come to fruition in you.

The rest of the group departed from the kitchen with only yourself and Ron remaining. Wordlessly, the two of you approached the sink. Ron began to wash the dishes, while you jumped up on to the counter next to him. As he cleaned them, you would dry them. It was a nice and soft moment, the pair of you making light conversation.

“It’s just all crazy to me, how much we’ve grown recently. I mean, this summer has felt like years when it’s really been only two months since I saw you last,” Ron handed you a plate as he complained.

“Well why are you complaining? You practically grown three summers worth in one,” you giggled and he lightly splashed the tap water on you. 

“Do I at least still have my boyish charm?” He stuck his tongue out at you as you squealed and upon settling, sent you a wink. You scrunched your nose in response, as you attempted to distract him away from the warmth that spread across your face, “I’m teasing, I’m teasing.”

All the dishes were soon washed, dried, and placed in there respective cabinets all without the use of magic, “You know it’s nice to have you around again,” Ron spoke, placing the final cup into the cupboard. He then strolled his way over to the counter where you sat, leaning his hip against it as he faced you.

“I love my family, but they don’t give me the same sense of home that you do...” By that time, Ron had managed to snake his way between your legs and then counter. His face was mere inches from yours and you create various constellations with the freckles on his face. The pair of you stayed their in each other’s warm presence, not wanting to leave the situation, yet wondering whether to take it further. 

The tension began to feel overwhelming as you began to get lost in whatever feeling was happening between the pair of you. So you tried to rationalize the situation like you always did and pulled him into a close hug. Your arms held tightly around his shoulders as you felt the same temptation to wrap your legs around his waist. He latched his arms around your waist with the same fever, “Would it be completely crazy that you feel like home to me?”

Soon the summer holiday melted away into another year at Hogwarts, except this year presented itself in stranger circumstances. At the end of term, you were to take your O.W.L.S and prepare for a career in the wizarding world. However, there was yet another new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who was interesting to say the least. Hermione has whispered to you at dinner the first night that the Minister himself placed Dolores Umbridge at Hogwarts to spy on Dumbledore. 

And to make things stranger, Dumbledore was barely around the castle like in years before and Harry kept having strange dreams about He Who Shall Not Be Named. Umbridge also refused to teach her students magic through practice and so your quartet had taken it into your own hands to begin Dumbledore’s army. All through the fall term and now into the spring, your ragtag group had successfully practiced and avoided the toad discovering your whereabouts; moreover, your relationship with Ron had started to change since summer and it made you nervous. 

When you confided in Hermione after the events at Grimauld Place and her taking notice to both Ron’s and your body language, she tried her best to put it into words for you. “You have a crush on Ron, (Y/N)! And apparently he fancies you, as well.”

“But ‘Mione, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never really had a crush like this before. And I don’t want him to become a distraction with the O.W.L.S at the end of the year,” You tried to reason out things, and make everything seem more logical like you did with every other problem that had faced you before.

“This is one thing that can’t be control with logic and reason. That’s not how emotions are supposed to be felt,” she giggled as she squeezed your hand in hers. 

“I-I know, but I feel like a...a little pixie. constantly hanging around him and in the way of everything and-”

“(Y/N), I think that Ron prefers to have you around,” The bells chimed outside the castle, “I’ll see you at practice after class.”

“See you,” And with that, Hermione left for her final class of the day and you went about roaming the castle on your free period. 

You strolled around, admiring the ancient castle for all her walls had to offer where you now found yourself in the westwing. You were one of few students your year to be allowed to take a free period because of your academic standing and use that time for study or leisure. 

When you neared the hall where the Room of Requirement was, you placed yourself in a window sill to simply enjoy yourself. You pulled out one of the Herbology books you picked at the library and began reading as you relaxed. Yet the moment was short lived as you heard a voice call your last name.

“(Y/L/N), (Y/L/N)!” Draco Malfoy was strutting down the corridor towards where you were seated.

You jumped down from your ledge, giving him a curious look, “Is there something I can help you with Draco?”

“Why aren’t you in class, (Y/L/N)? You could loose points for Gryffindor for not being where you should be,” He snarled at you.

“It just so happens I have a free period to do what I please with myself, so if you will pardon me-” You snatched your bag, but before you could turn to leave Draco snatched your wrist into his hand.

“You’re a terrible liar,” He sneered, his face inching closer to yours.

“Malfoy,” Ron appeared behind you, his presence jarring Draco into letting you go. You backed yourself into Ron’s chest, allowing him to be your protector from the Slytherin boy. He ghosted his hand over your hips as if he were trying to pulling you further from Draco, “What seems to be the problem?”

“(Y/N) here seems to be skipping class, which is such a shame since she’s supposed to be such a bright little witch. I figure a detention with Umbridge should straighten her back up.”

“Excuse me,” you quipped to defend yourself and Draco glared daggers at you.

“See happens to have a free period mate, so just bugger off, mate,” Ron stepped in front of you to guard you from the predator that was in the form of Draco Malfoy, “Why don’t you go perform your prefect duties where there are actually students skipping classes or causing trouble?”

Draco’s eyes flickered between the pair of you, and you couldn’t tell which of you he disdained more in this moment, “Whatever, Weasley. I knew you were ever a filthy Pureblood, but I didn’t expect it from you, (Y/N). Both of you and your families are disgraces of Pureblood Wizards.” With his final blow, Malfoy stomped off in the opposite way to find his next prey.

Immediately, you let out the breathe you didn’t even realize you were holding, “Are you alright, (Y/N)?”

Ron now faced you, holding your arms with his large hands, as his eyes scanned for any outward physical or emotional distress Draco could have caused you. You knew that Ron wouldn’t hold himself back from throwing the first punch if he suspected Draco has hurt you.

“I’m quite alright, Ron. I’m just glad you found me when you did, before Draco could take me to her office,” you shuddered at the thought of Umbridge and what she had done to your peers.

His hand flew to your face as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His blue eyes gazed deeply into yours, searching for some sort of answering that hid behind his eyes. “Ron-?”

Before you could continue speaking, Ron pressed his lips to yours and you responded just as quick. A strong feeling in your gut assured you that this is where you were supposed to be, in Ron’s arm, his lips connected with yours. Every emotion that every girl had talked about when being around a boy suddenly made sense, and felt more intense with Ron. After what felt like a lifetime, the pair of you pulled apart from each other. 

He offered you a half-smile as he appeared too love struck to form a coherent sentence, “I-I”, you pressed another kiss to his lips as if to bring him back into reality. After all this time, everything seemed right and perfect in this little moment in time. 

It didn’t matter that Umbridge kept sending out her wolves to discover your little army, or if it was only due time till Voldemort made an appearance. Ron was at your side and you were by his through anything that could possibly happen in this lifetime or any other. 

Once you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours and giggled, “Is now a bad time to say that I quite fancy you?”

“You’re unbearable, Weasley,” You scrunched your nose and turned, beginning your walk to practice. When you didn’t hear him behind you, you turned to see his standing there with his mouth hanging open. You sighed and offered your hand out, “well, are you coming?”

The red head grinned as he took your hand, taking large strides as he giggled, absolutely over the moon that he had just kissed you and was now holding your hand. The pair of you, hand in hand, made your way to join your friends in the Room of Requirement, preparing for whatever came ahead of you.

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