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arcanefox207 · 11 days ago

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The Warden.

GameWarden!Joel Miller x F!Reader Explicit 18+ MDNI | 3.8k WC | AO3

Summary: Your hike into the woods doesn’t go as planned when a depraved Game Warden catches you breaking the rules.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Power imbalance. DUBCON (could be considered NONCON). Reader is into it but she still doesn't have a choice. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. Explicit smut. Oral (male receiving). Fingering. Violence. Manipulation. Unprotected P in V. Cum talk. Creampies. Dark!Joel.

Notes: Please read the warnings. HUGE thanks to @joelmillerisapunk for beta'ing (love you, Odi!) Also FYI Game Wardens (also sometimes known as conservation / wildlife / DNR officer) can have broader authority than police and can even search your person / property without a warrant, are expert marksmen and usually work alone.

M A S T E R L I S T | A O 3 | N O T I F S

You saw the sign and ignored it, like you always did, as you walked down your favorite hiking trail. The one that few people knew about. The trail that was always peaceful and quiet and you rarely met another soul. Your hidden secret that you loved to escape to. The one that had been marked as “Trail Closed” for months now for reasons you could never quite figure out.

As the forest thinned you finally reached the majestic bounty you sought. A quaint pond, nestled in the pines. The waters edge pebbled with rocks and ferns. Water lilies sparsely decorated the surface. What once was a sprawling picnic destination was now overgrown. Serene and abandoned to nature.

You knelt down and ran your hands over the stones, picking up and admiring their unique beauty of the ones that caught your eye.

You were so preoccupied taking in the comforts of the world around you that you never heard him. Never even considered there were eyes on you, watching you from behind some overgrowth.

“Excuse me, miss,” his voice startles you as you stand quickly and turn around. “You’re in violation of State Park rules and regulations.”

“Huh?” Your words come out sounding dumb and caught off guard. You quickly scan for the source of the voice and see some movement in the bushes, revealing a man.

He walks towards you, emerging from his hiding spot. A tall and broad man, head to toe in the standard olive green uniform that the wardens wore. A tactical belt and vest and a scoped rifle slung on his back. His toned physique mesmerizes you with each step forward.

“It’s my sworn duty to enforce the law and enact justice as I see fit.” His words were robotic and rehearsed.

As he got closer you could see he was an older man and incredibly handsome with some greys in his beard along his jawline. His hair was shorter with wavy curls, pushed back neatly with some silver catching in the sunlight. His skin weathered by the sun. His aquiline nose made his face look even more intense and powerful, matching his words. Broody and serious. This was a man who was in control.

“And you’re trespassing,” he lowers his voice, “in my territory.”

You were trespassing. He wasn’t wrong. You felt your body flush with a wave of panic, with a hint of arousal crawling somewhere deep inside you. Lurking and waiting with intrigue and fear.

“Area’s posted.” he says as he now stands in front of you. You are at a loss for words, caught doing what you thought was harmless.

He senses your panic and it rallies him to toy with you.

“This is a protected wildlife conservation that you’re messin’ with, sweetheart.” He pauses and changes his tone to intimidate you as he leans in close. “And you see, I don’t like that.”

You feel your heart race. Were you actually getting in trouble for taking an innocent hike in the woods?

“You know who I am?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest while he waits for you to speak. His veiny, chiseled forearms distract you. He looks so scrappy and dangerous.

“The Game Warden?” You hesitate.

“That's right.” he nods with a cunning smirk. “Name’s Joel, but you’re gonna call me Sir.” He enunciates it firmly.

You feel your body overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. You were scared but also felt a pulsing go through you when he spoke. You didn’t want him to be upset with you. Everything about him was screaming: dangerous, do not piss off.

“I’m sorry about trespassing. I didn’t know… Sir.” You added his title for good measure.

But you did know. You knew every time you walked past the sign at the entrance telling you not to. Bullshit was not going to fly here and only fueled him more.

“Lying to an officer too?” He shakes his head as it hangs low. He circles you with intimidation, looking you up and down. Lecturing you with silence and waiting for your reparations to be determined.

You can’t fight off that lukewarm feeling inside you that grows warmer. Slowly it gnaws away at your resolve. Seeing him with the tactical vest on that snuggly accented his chest and left his belly exposed with nothing but his green shirt covering it. The only spot that was vulnerable and soft. The rest of his body was strong, protected by his excessive gear, lean muscles and mean looks.

You see his name badge embroidered with ‘MILLER’ and accidentally whisper his name out loud like it's a question. Wondering who this man is and what his intentions are. In the peaceful calm of the woods in the middle of nowhere, your whisper may have well been a shout.

“Officer Miller.” He corrects with authority in his tone as he leans over you. “And I’m gonna have to discipline that mouth of yours.”

You’ve never been in trouble with the law before, and certainly never had a run in with a Game Warden. You knew they were essentially lone wilderness cops with a god complex and few restrictions. Still, you knew this was far from acceptable behavior. Everything about how he was acting was wrong. You open your mouth to protest, but hesitate on his threats. He relishes in how you work it out in your head that talking back isn’t going to get you out of this. You can only bite your tongue so long.

“I’ll report you.” You threaten back, acting like you have some moral upper hand to hang over him.

“Go ahead. Ain’t nothing you can do about your situation right now, sugar plum.” He scoffs. “Not to mention, s’your word against mine.” He stops circling and leans into your ear as his southern drawl makes the words sound smooth and buttery. Hot and melting on his breath as they drip out of his mouth.

“Wanna take a guess who wins?” He says deviously and you can feel his patchy beard scrape against your jaw as he pulls away. A shiver pulses through you, right down to your pussy. Beating to his unsought touch.

Why is this turning you on so much?

“You see darlin’, I’ve been watching you for a long, long time.” He circles again. “And you keep breaking the rules.”

Your heart races. This was getting serious. The realization hits that he can do whatever he wants and get away with it, and that is exactly his intention.

“On your knees, and hands where I can see ‘em.” he barks.

You obey, folding under his commands. Hoping your obedience would lessen the blow.

You drop down gently unsure of what exactly he was playing at, treating you like a violent criminal. You stretch your arms out to your sides with your palms up in submission. He stops just in front of you, scooching down so he is eye level. A tiny grunt as his knees bend. Tobacco and leather scents accompany him.

“I’ll let you off with a warning… if you promise me you won’t be doing it again.” He offers. Sweet words coming out slow and sticky like honey.

“I won’t. I promise. It won’t happen again.” You quickly plead. Foolishly hopeful this was it. Ignoring the conditional implication of his terms.

He stands back up with his arms crossed before raking one of his hands through his hair, thinking. He wasn’t buying what you were selling.

He paces in front of you. The obscene bulge in his pants was impossible not to notice as he parades it past your sightline. Back and forth, back and forth. He was packing more than just a firearm.

He stops directly in front of you so your eyes are mere inches from it. You look all the way down to his feet in an attempt to hide the red that flushes your face. Trying to dismiss your own arousal that was getting louder and wetter.

He reaches down to your chin and cranes your neck up to look at him with an urgency.

“Gonna’ need some convincing, sugar plum.”

Fuck...

He releases you and walks to the nearby weathered picnic table and lays his rifle down. He unsnaps his utility belt that was strapped over his waist and leg and tosses it along with his handgun in tow. It made his broad shoulders look even wider with his waist unhindered by the bulky gear.

The uppercase “WARDEN” embroidered on the back of his green tactical vest serves to remind you that he is an officer of the law. It taunts you as he takes his sweet time laying out his things neatly on the table while you wait with anticipation for whatever was happening next.

As he turns to walk back towards you, snatched in his vest, he tries to conceal the smirk pulling up from the corner of his mouth. You hate how good he looked, as if it could ever excuse how disgusting he was behaving.

He stands coolly just a foot in front of you and unbuckles the modest leather belt. The metal clasps clank loudly as he lets it hang down and unzips. He clocks your reaction as he pulls up his shirt enough to show his messy thatch of hair trailing down his lower belly.

He can’t be serious…

Reaching a hand inside his boxers he pulls them down slowly as his cock peeks out. Big and fat and leaking. Aching to be touched.

He is serious.

His eyes are focused intently on yours, watching them widen as you take in his cock. It's just in front of your nose as you look up and sit back on your haunches.

“Go on,” he growls and lowers his voice. “Convince me.”

He reaches his hand around his cock and pumps it. The broad head glistening in his precum as he drags his hand down his shaft. You wonder how long he had been watching you and if he had been stroking himself before he approached you. Maybe this interrogation was all foreplay for him. In fact, you were certain it was.

The hot feeling surging in your core surprises you. You were actually turned on by this pig. Still, you knew this was beyond fucked up. You hesitate with what to do next, conflicted by his abuse of power and the inappropriate way your body was betraying you.

“You gonna disobey a warden?” He threatens, getting impatient.

You wonder what if you refused? What if you didn’t play his game? What would he actually do? It still didn’t feel like there was an option other than what was right in front of you, demanding your obedience.

This was only ending one way. His way.

“No, sir.” You swallow and fight back the tears. You place your palms and claw your fingers into his thighs as you sit up straight. You start to open your mouth and look up at him with glossy eyes. Conceding to him.

You catch that spark of darkness igniting in his eyes. Burning hot and formidable as it spreads through him. Your misfortune was making him harder.

He parts your mouth open with the tip resting on your bottom lip. He teases it in and out, letting you feel the weight as the ridge catches on your lip.

God he was big.

“Give it a kiss first and be real polite.”

You close your lips over the tip and appease him with your gentle touch. Polite even. You suckle it delicately, drawing out beads of saltiness as it drips onto your taste buds. You can’t stop your natural impulse to flick his slit with your tongue and it makes him stiffen even more, twitching in response.

“Good girl.” he praises as he tangles his free hand in your hair. You wince as his firm grip pulls you closer to him. He pushes into your mouth. Inch by inch. The hand on his cock held it steady until you were adjusted to his size. He lets go and slides his hand above your nape, letting you take the full weight of his cock as you hollow your cheeks.

He was so thick.

You decide to give him something he wants without asking, attempting to entice him to be kinder. His roughness was starting to hurt when he pulled at your hair and dug into your skin. Relaxing your mouth he pushed further in without your protest. Nestled tight in your warm and wet paradise. You notice his urgency shift.

“Nice and slow. No need to rush.” He commands as you take him deeper. This order sounds more like it's for himself so he doesn’t cum too early. You can feel how close he is. He was ready to burst the moment you dropped to your knees.

You gag as the head hits the back of your throat.

“Oh, you sound pretty like that.” He moans as he closes his eyes and leans his head back. “Choking on my cock.” He makes a guttural sound as he nudges his cock even deeper into your throat. He was impossibly large as he fights to stuff you full.

“Hold still.” He fucks into your mouth. Harder. Harder. Harder. Pulling your hair too tight and pushing your head too far onto him as he bucked into you.

With tears in your eyes making your nose run you can hardly breathe. Gasping and choking and a cock stuffed in your mouth, bruising your throat with each plunge.

He snarls as he looks down to you, locking eyes. Blown out. Feral. Dark and desperate like he was giving in to his wildest, forbidden desires with no regard for you. It was a selfish need he was taking for himself and only himself. You were nothing. A wet hole for his cock to fuck.

He was coming undone. His moaning and panting echoing across the serene pondscape and tainting your safe escape forever. Even that memory he was taking from you.

You were waiting for it. Bracing for his hot spend to pour into you but instead he slowed. Thrusting deep into you with a grunt before dragging out his wet, dripping cock. He winced as it popped out of your mouth and you gasped for air.

This sick fuck was edging himself.

He wanted more. Needed more.

“Get up.” His haggard, breathy words bite at you.

He lifts you up by your hair. You quickly comply to relieve the pressure on your scalp as you stumble to your feet. A whine escapes you as he lets go roughly.

“Gonna make sure you learn your lesson today.” He gestures to the picnic table just a few steps away and you shamefully go to it.

He pushes you to lean over the bench and bends you in an ‘L’ shape. You press your arms against the seat to hold yourself up. He drags his hand down your back and around to your hips, admiring your delicate form laid out before him. He wanted to lose himself inside you.

He drags a hand between your legs and feels your cunt hot and wet against your shorts. He lets out a growl as his fingers get soaked along your seam.

You hate how good it feels to have him touch you where you ache for friction.

“Mmm…” he groaned as he breathed in your arousal on his fingertips. “Knew you wanted this cock inside you.” He ruts his hardness against your ass.

He slides his hands over your back. Over your hips. Down the sides of your legs until he stops abruptly. Fingering at something jagged in your pocket. Something you forgot was there.

“What's this?”

Your heart stops. You can tell from his tone that he knew exactly what it was.

He slips his hand in your pocket and pulls out two shiny stones you had collected from the waters edge.

Fuck.

“Caught stealing from the cookie jar.” He clicks his tongue to scold you. He was stacking his case with further evidence to hang over your head.

“Oh, Darlin.” He fakes a sympathetic tone. “You’re in big trouble now.”

It was then you realized he knew all along. He was watching your every move. He was waiting for the right moment to manipulate you to his will.

“Bad girl. Larceny is gonna cost you more than just an apology.” He drops the rocks carelessly and grabs your waistband, pulling your shorts and panties down to your ankles in one motion. You gasp as he makes you step out of them as he pushes you forward so your knees are on the bench seat. You catch yourself on the edge of the table. Half naked, exposed and totally fucked.

“Spread 'em nice and wide for me.” He knocks your legs apart with his knee as he stands behind you, his cock notched against your entrance and it sparks an adrenaline surge inside you when you feel his tip press into you.

“Please!” You beg him. “Please stop. I’m not letting you fuck me!” You spit out with an attitude. This was a line too far. A line he was intentionally pushing to see how far he could go before you fought back.

Unsurprising to you, he liked playing with fire.

He reaches out and grabs your neck with his wide grip, roughly pinning you prone against the table so you can’t move. He leans over, and hovers low to your ear as his shaft drags against your seam.

“Ain’t making you do nothing, sugar plum.” He pauses and breathes in the sweet scent of your shampoo as he prods you gently with his nose. Tantric and hungry with his movements.

“I can take you now and then we’ll be done with it, or I can take you in. S’your choice.” He loosens up his grip on your neck and sits back slightly. He feels the way you tremble under his touch, and the way your cunt throbs against his heat still pressing against it.

You feel it too. Something you can’t explain. A primal feeling of desire. Surrendering to your most basic human needs. That having him inside you might not be so bad. A rationalizing in your brain that you did wrong after all. It’s only sex.

Only sex. You’ve certainly done worse with lesser men under the guise of alcohol.

“I can promise you, they won’t be nearly this forgivin’ at the state prison.” He traces his finger down your spine, being delicate and gentle. Tracing until his finger runs into his belly pushed flush against you. He leans back and grabs his cock. Painfully hard and still soaked from earlier. He presses the head right against your swollen clit and rubs it against you.

You let out a moan and he knows he has you.

“Tell me you don’t want this. That you don’t want to cum all over my cock.” He strokes your clit with his head again and again. Knocking at your door and waiting for you to answer.

“I’ll make it real good for you, sugar plum.” Your clit pulses on his cock. Needy and hedonic. Forsaking any restraint you have left to say no.

You take a deep breath and curse under your breath, curling your fingers around the edge of the table as you sit up and face forward.

“Get on with it.” You concede.

He smiles wickedly. He was always going to get what he wanted in the end.

With you still sitting on your knees he locks his body against yours, his feet planted firmly on the ground. He pulls you up so your back is flush with his chest and wraps a hand around the front of you, rubbing and pinching at your clit with his rough fingers and dipping them into your hole. Spreading your slick. Stretching you open as he scissors his fingers.

His body against yours was so much bigger. Broad and strong. You were the mouse and he was the lion about to pounce. His heat piercing through your skin. You felt him line up at your entrance, nudging you with his tip.

There is no more patience or preparation. He needs to fuck you now. Needs to have that friction choking his cock that has been rock solid for too long. Without warning he thrusts into you again and again and again. Each time a little deeper and harder. His fat head catching on all your ridges as your pussy grabbed onto him.

It felt so fucking good and you hate it. You hate him.

He stretches you more than you’ve ever felt before. The initial pain subsides as he rubs your clit fiercely with his fingers. The pleasure inside you builds. He kept his word that he would make it real good for you.

He puts his leg up on the bench for leverage and bottoms out inside you with a grunt as he pulls you down on his cock. Fucking up into you and impaling you with his cock.

Your moans run away from you, loudly filling the air with obscenities. You feel your climax building up inside you. You’ve never been fucked so hard in your life and you are soaking him. You know he won’t last much longer.

“Please..” you beg him between moans.

“Please what?” he snarls as he fucks you harder, his cock ready to spill.

“Please... Sir. Pull out,” you beg him.

He laughs at your ridiculous request and ignores you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you hard against his body. One hand wrapped around and splayed over your belly and the other curled around your breasts and pushing on the front of your throat. He had you held so tightly to him there was no way you could stop him.

Your climax tears through you.

“Carry in… Carry out.” He recites the most basic of park rules between grunts while you brace for it. “Leave nothing behind.”

He releases into you. His hot cum coating your deepest walls as he empties into your cunt with the loudest orgasm. He pushes you down prone and fucks it deep inside you before he starts to soften, making sure you know he was deliberately filling you up with his seed.

He collapses on you and you breathe together for a moment. He leaves an unexpected kiss on your shoulder and another on your neck, silently thanking you for letting him use your body.

“Next time pay attention to the game cams, sugar plum.” he nods up at a nearby tree and he gives a side smile. Mocking your mistake.

He withdraws his cock from you and lets you fall forward, his cum already running down your legs. He eyes your mess with a smirk, pleased with his conquest.

“I’m always watching.” He says with a wink.

Tagging some cool people that I love very much and fellow Joel Hole comrades (please note if it’s too dark for your taste it’s totally ok to skip!)

@magpiepills @for-a-longlongtime @milla-frenchy @itwasntimethatdidit40 @youandmeand5bucks

@toxicanonymity @wethairjoel @evolnoomym @almostfoxglove @beardedjoel

@aurorawritestoescape @hellishjoel @lotusbxtch @murder-wife @joelstummy

@pearlessance @pedropeach @tonysopranosrobe @sawymredfox @macfrog

@slimybeth69 @whocaresstillthelouvre @joelsdagger @baronessvonglitter @covetyou

@chronically-ghosted @skbeaumont @yourcoolauntie @yopossum @beefrobeefcal

@sp00kymulderr @moonlitbirdie @wheresarizona @syd-djarin @punkshort

@sin-djarin @guiltyasdave @strang3lov3 @frannyzooey @tightjeansjavi

@cavillscurls @gasolinerainbowpuddles @pedgito @survivingandenduring

@ozarkthedog @mountainsandmayhem @schnarfer @pedrospatch @penvisions

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utterlyotterlyx · 7 months ago

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Way Down We Go

Lucien x Tamlin!Sister!Reader

Summary - Basically Lucien smut with very little plot

Warnings - fluff, smut (p in v), forbidden love, oral (f!receiving), slight breeding kink, Lucien being the man of my dreams xo

Water baby.

Lucien had always called you it, and at first you had found it rather patronising, but you soon warmed up to the sweet pet name he had bestowed to you.

There had been countless occasions where he would stroll through the gardens of the Spring Court manor and find you idly floating in one of the ponds or fountains. Lucien would stand at the waters edge silently, enjoying the way the water made your dress stick to your skin and turn it almost translucent to the point where he could make out the faint peaks of your nibbles beneath the fabric. That wasn't his favourite part, no, it was the serene smile that would always form upon your lips.

Sometimes you would open your bright eyes and find him stood there, and you'd engage in conversation with him, polite and elegant as always. But other times you wouldn't open your eyes at all, and Lucien had often stood there until he was called away, enjoying the joy etched onto your face.

No one knew what drew you to the water. Tamlin had always teased you about it, telling you to go and drown whenever you had a spat to which you'd simply flip off with your usual level of sarcasm and ire. It had always caused Lucien to bite his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing.

Being Tamlin's sister meant that you were off-limits to him, even Tamlin had said that Lucien was not worthy of someone so light and perfect as you. Coming from Spring, it had made sense that you were at one with nature, not only were you a shifter like your brother and father, but you were also able to manipulate the earth, to sprout flowers in the palms of your hands and grow trees with a single thought if you required a touch of shade whist you floated in the streams.

Animals also adored you, bounding from the forest if they caught a speckle of your scent, one of early morning sunlight and lilies. It wasn't rare to see you lying in the grass with a school of new-born fox pups basking in your glow, stretching across your stomach as you read beneath the willow tree atop the mound to the west of the large estate.

"Why does everyone think that she's so perfect? She's a pain in the ass," Tamlin asked to no one in particular as he stared out of the window, catching a glimpse of you trapsing through the gardens with a fox in tow dressed in a sage green ensemble that brushed over your shoulders to expose your dainty freckles to the air.

Lucien hummed in reply, "Because she is perfect," he told his friend and High Lord, chuckling at the eye roll from Tamlin as he mumbled that he knew that you were, but that didn't mean that you weren't a pain in the ass.

To everyone else, you were the Daughter of Spring, a fair and benevolent creature that the fae genuinely believed was a decedent of the gods, maybe even the Mother herself. But to those within the manor, you were a rebellious thing, consistently pushing the limits of your freedom. Alis enjoyed your spirit far too much.

So did Lucien.

Tamlin had excused himself to patrol the boarder shortly after, fixing his green riding jacket to his frame and untucking his hair from the collar, leaving Lucien alone within the dining room.

Shortly after his departure, you entered the ornate dining space where Lucien sat reading over reports with a book between your fingers. You glanced about the room, noticing his arched brow of inquiry before closing the doors behind you and turning the lock; you crossed the gleaming oaken floor, enjoying the manner in which Lucien leant back in his chair and parted his legs, watching each step you took like a predator assessing its prey.

There was no denying Lucien's beauty. Everything he was, you beheld. The long red hair that you often braided when you were alone, braids that he would fight to keep in place and when a singular one would unwind he would find any reason to visit you and have you fix it. The russet orbs that glimmered in the sunlight made you weak. Then there was the issue of his body, his perfectly sculpted and muscular body that was so alluring that it was difficult to not be wrapped around him at all times.

Sighing, you nestled yourself onto his thighs, hitching your skirt around your waist as you shuffled to make yourself comfortable, you draped your arms lazily around his neck, lowering yourself to capture a chaste kiss from his lips, "Has Tamlin ventured from the estate?"

Lucien smirked at your words, his body tingling from the sensation your lips next to his ear brought him, "You know that I despise it when you talk about your brother when you're sat on me, my love."

His large hands rested on your hips, keeping you steady as your body straddled him; you laughed at his words, his humour matching your own, and you sank further down on him, feeling his cock twitch beneath the fabric of his briefs, "Would you rather I got off?" Your voice was light and held a level of teasing to it, and you slowly began to dismount Lucien, stopping in your tracks when his grip tightened and held you in place.

"Well I never said that," Lucien leaned forward, his hands travelling up to rest on the centre of your back despite the table cushioning your weight from behind. His finger traced down your throat all the way down your sternum, pausing at the corset of your dress that he had heard you complain of that morning, stating that Alis had secured it too tightly to your figure.

A wickedly feline glint consumed his stare, his finger dipped into the corset that was so tight that he could feel your heartbeat against the digit and leaned further to capture your lips against his, trailing kisses along your jaw until he found that certain sweet spot beneath your ear.

Emitting a breathless moan, you threw your head back as his lips worked their way to the curve of your breasts, "We can't. What if Tamlin comes back?"

"Let him," Lucien idly pulled at the strings of your corset, tugging each rung loose as he spoke against your skin, "I'm not the one who has the issue telling Tamlin that we're mates." Lucien continued to kiss along your breasts and collarbone, softly sucking and nipping at the skin.

"He'd be furious," you ground down on his lap, a low growl emitted from his lips, so low and dangerous that it made heat pool between your legs.

"I. Don't. Care." Lucien lifted you into the air and set you down atop the table, standing between your open legs and taking your head in his hand, willing it to the side to give him better access to the neck that haunted his dreams.

"Luc," you breathed, feeling weak under him, his fingers working quickly to unfasten the corset holding your breasts in place so that he could dip his head low and swirl his tongue around your right nipple.

That simple action had your back arching against him, and Lucien smirked at the scent of your arousal infiltrating his consciousness.

Lucien indulged the unconvincing scolding, planting his palms either side of you and pulling back slightly, "What is it, baby? Do you want me to stop?" Lucien drifted the tip of his nose down the bridge of your own, enveloping you in his scent, in the same scent that you had both worked hard to glamour from your brother.

"Gods no," your mouths collided in a battle of lips and teeth, Lucien captured your bottom lip between his canines and used the action to prise your mouth open just enough for his tongue to roll against your own; his hands slid up your thighs and rested just inches away from where you needed them to go, his thumbs dragging over your skin teasingly.

"That's my girl," he mumbled against your lips, his rough toned voice making your core clench with need, you always loved it when he called you that, his girl, and the damned bastard knew it.

Lucien's lips trailed from your mouth, leaving open mouthed kisses across your breasts that were exposed thanks to his handiwork at unfastening your corset and pulling it down your arms so that all you wore was your dress around your waist. You were the most magnificent creature he had ever seen, and you were his, his until the day you both ceased to exist.

Your mate dropped to his knees, looping his arms under your legs and pulling you to the edge of the table. His warm breath swept between your thighs as his eyes dropped to meet your core that was begging for his touch, "Always so eager," the vibration of the words against his lips made you shudder, realising how close he truly was from tasting you.

Without waiting for your reply, he ran his tongue up your folds, humming at the decadent taste of you on his lips and your body jolted at the touch. His tongue swirled around your clit, assessing the perfect spot he knew would have you screaming his name in a matter of minutes and pressed a light kiss to the area, smirking at the breathless moan that escaped your lips. "Luc, please," you whined, his hands had pried your legs apart and had moved to grasp onto the flesh of your ass, spreading you to give him better access.

Lucien attached his lips to that bundle of nerves, winding his lips around it and sucking gently, flicking his tongue against it and running a finger through your folds, "So needy," he mumbled against you.

Arching your back from the table, you slid your fingers into his hair, gently tugging him closer and moving against his face, rolling your hips against the graceful and fire-tinged flick of his tongue against you. It was so sinful, to have his head buried between your thighs pulling every moan and mewl from you that he could whilst you lay on the table where you had dinner each night, nipples piqued upward toward the ceiling and juices coating the table edge.

Your mate sensed your urgency, mainly from the way you were grinding against his tongue; Lucien coiled his fingers around your thighs, keeping your legs in place despite your writhing against the table and fingers clawing against his scalp with desperation. It didn't take him long to find the specific spot that had you crying out, he pushed two fingers into you, pumping them inside and curling them upward to meet the rough spot inside of your walls, keeping a steady pace when you cried out his name to the skies; a hot white heat consumed your body, his fingers stretched you deliciously, preparing you for what was to come.

But Lucien was a gentleman, he always made sure that your pleasure came first, and he was happy to serve you in whatever way you needed him to.

"Tell me," he pressed a kiss to your folds, smirking at the jolt the touch sent through your body before rising and pulling you upright to meet his chest. One of his hands cupped your jaw, making your cock-dazed eyes find his whilst his other unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his briefs, pulling his cock from the fabric and pumping it twice in his fingers, "Do you prefer the stars above or the ones I make you see?"

It wasn't a question that you needed to answer, you couldn't anyway, your mind still calming from the orgasm that had ripped through it only moments before; your legs still quaked as he settled himself between them, running the tip of his cock through your folds and capturing the slick left in the wake of his tongue ravaging you. Lucien trailed his lips along your shoulder, tasting your sun kissed skin and pecking against the herds of freckles that appeared when the sun was strongest.

Capturing your lips against his own, Lucien pushed into you, pushing until he was hilted and waiting a moment for you to adjust, your walls quivering around him threatening to become undone within a matter of minutes. A low growl fell from him, his fingers raked through your hair and he rolled his hips, thrusting so slowly that it allowed you to feel every single inch of his cock stretching your walls. Lucien's movements quickened slightly but it was still torturous to endure, but you loved the feeling of having him inside of you too much, the way he rocked his hips into you, the way his fingers coiled around the base of your neck and the way his lips pressed sloppy kisses on your mouth. All of it was enough to drive you irrevocably wild.

The frenzy had come and gone, you had decided to accept the bond during a time when you knew Tamlin would be gone for long enough for Lucien to be able to act somewhat normal around him. You had spent two weeks in that bed being fucked by fire, and even if you did rise from the comfort of the bed against his wishes, Lucien would always find you and drag you into the nearest cupboard, pinning your chest against the wall and taking you from behind without a single care as to who could have seen him or heard your mewls.

Though, the desire for him to be always buried inside of you had never faltered, and he would make sure to visit you nightly to remind you of that fact, even if he had to climb up the vines outside of your window to stay undetected.

"You look so good with my cock in you," Lucien's voice was low, his hands cupped your face and he moaned at each thrust you met with your hips; he dragged his thumb across your swollen lips, red and puckered from the onslaught of his mouth, neck coloured from his possessive markings.

The table groaned against the ground, rocking with every movement as Lucien's pace hardened, part of him eating itself alive to stay inside you for as long as possible, but the other part of him anxious about Tamlin returning a minute too early and tearing him to shreds.

"Do you know how much I love you?" You panted through the moans Lucien was drawing from your pretty little mouth and ran your fingers up his arms, setting his nerve endings on fire with the lingering touch of your fingers against his skin, tracing the muscles sculpted by the gods.

"Tell me," his fingers lightly wrapped around your throat, pulling your chest to his, making your eyes peer upward through their lashes at the perfect male rolling into you whose own gaze had darkened at your question.

Lucien's other hand travelled between your legs, his index finger circling around your clit and causing your breath to catch in your throat that bobbed against his grip. Lucien repeated his order, his grasp tightening around your neck and pace quickening so that you could hear your skin sounding against his, "I love you so much that I would walk away from this life to live in the middle of nowhere with you, just us, a life of our own." Lucien groaned at the image, returning home from catching fish in the streams with his bare hands to his perfect mate and even more perfect babes, "I love you so much that the thought of being with child, your child, brings me nothing but serenity," you widened your eyes deliciously, doe-like and innocent, knowing what those words did to him, "You can give me what I want, can't you?"

Lucien's resolve was fading, and the grunts that were sounding from him were edging you closer and closer to one of your favourite places. His index finger continued drawing soft mewls from your lips, your walls tightening around his cock as it slammed continuously into you, surely cracking the legs of the table with each movement, "Yes. I can," his hand moved to the back of your neck, forcing your lips to meet his in a symphony of desire and adoration, and the final few circles of his fingers had you coming undone within moments.

A white hot flash poured through you, had you crying out against his lips, and the convulsions of your walls drew Lucien to the same fate. Lucien fucked you with the fire you had always wondered about long before you had found out that you were mates, his moans delicious enough to send you into a haze as he emptied himself into you, continuing to roll into you to fuck his seed in as far as it could go, determined to give you what you desired.

Lucien's movements slowed, the feral beast tamed and locked deep within him, and he lowered his face to catch your lips once more, not wanting to remove himself from you like usual, but for a different reason this time. He pressed his forehead to yours, russet orbs staring into your own with a type of wonderment you hadn't seen before, "You'd give it all up, for me?"

"I'd give anything for you," and it was true, a life without Lucien wasn't one you wanted to live, so if Tamlin did find out and exile him, you'd follow. The simple life became much more appealing each passing day. "And, to answer your question," you ran your fingers down the contours of his arms and up his chest, curling them over his shoulders, "I think I much prefer the stars you make me see."

Lucien threw his head back and laughed, a smile so beautiful and bright that it could be the most perfect thing you'd ever see in your entire life, and certainly your most favourite thing in the universe.

Lucien's laughter dimmed and his eyes found you again, his hands worked seamlessly to pull your dress back up over your arms, kissing every inch of skin of your shoulders as he tied the corset against your skin, though, he removed your panties from your legs, folding them into his pocket and smirking at your inquisitive arched brow, "I'm not done trying to put my child in you just yet."

Authors Note

I go delulu for my Lulu x

#acotar imagine #acotar #acotar fanfiction #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #lucien x reader #lucien x you #lucien x y/n #lucien x tamlin #lucien vandaddy #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra x you

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mydearestbeloved · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 12 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW:

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

Jinwoo stood outside the quaint greenhouse-like shop, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight before him. To anyone else, it appeared like an ordinary, if charming, flower shop nestled quietly in an inconspicuous part of the city. But he knew better. He knew that behind this innocent façade lay the entrance to your domain—one that he could only enter with your permission.

The last time he had brought up wanting to visit you on his own terms, you had told him bluntly: to access your domain, an outsider needed explicit permission each time from its master. For someone like him, who had grown accustomed to breaking into the dens of monsters and overcoming barriers, the thought of requiring an invitation had been oddly humbling. Yet, here he was, his hand reaching out to push open the glass door.

The moment his fingers touched the handle, the world around him seemed to ripple. The shop’s interior wavered like a mirage, Colors blurred together, softening at the edges, until he found himself no longer within the confines of the quaint flower shop but in the secluded tranquility of your garden.

The air was fresher, filled with the scent of flowers and damp earth, the sunlight softer than that of the real world. It really was a realm where time flowed differently.

He looked around, noting the serene clearing he now stood in. This wasn’t the formal entrance hall where he’d arrived before, flanked by towering columns and the majestic temple gate. No, this place was different—peaceful, secluded, as if it had been carefully hidden away within the vast expanse of your domain.

Only the floating fortress high above reminded him that he was indeed in the right place. He talked with you there before, in the gazebo surrounded by colorful structured blooms and ponds. Now that he viewed the grand fortress from below, its imposing structure casted shadows across the garden’s expanse like a protective embrace.

As he scanned the area, Jinwoo’s eyes fell on you a few paces away Butterflies danced around your figure as always, their luminescent wings like sparks against the backdrop of green foliage. You stood with your back to him, holding a bouquet of familiar red blooms— the vibrant scarlet of spider lilies unmistakable even from where he stood.

For a moment, Jinwoo froze, his mind flashing back to the vision he had been trying so hard to bury since before his descent into the Demon Castle. That vivid memory—you had held the exact same bouquet as this one. The warmth he had felt in that dream now surged back into his chest, leaving him almost breathless. But unlike the first time, he managed to suppress it quickly, clamping down on the surge of emotions before they could overwhelm him.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was witnessing something sacred. The air seemed to grow still, the butterflies lowering their flight as if in reverence. You knelt on the ground, your head bowed, the red blooms trembling in your grasp. Even the breeze seemed to hush in respect.

Jinwoo’s instincts screamed at him to remain silent. Whatever you were doing, it was not something he had any right to interrupt. He stood rooted to the spot, listening to the rustle of leaves and the distant call of birds that filled the garden’s serene ambiance, observing as a soft breeze rustled through the garden, lifting strands of your hair as if to underscore the quiet stillness.

Eventually, you rose, whispering something under your breath, the words too soft to carry to him, before turning to face him directly. Meeting his gaze with an unreadable expression, there was no surprise in your eyes, no shock at his sudden presence. The bouquet had vanished.

You walked toward him with the same calm, measured steps that seemed to define you. Jinwoo watched as you approached, your face betraying nothing. Deliberate or not, your form continued to obscure whatever had held your attention moments before. But as you brushed past him, gesturing for him to follow, he couldn't help himself—he turned his head to glance at where you had knelt.

There, nestled amidst the grass, stood a grave. The red flowers swayed in the wind like silent sentinels guarding a memory Jinwoo couldn’t fathom as he fell into steps behind you.

---

Back in the shop, he took a seat at one of the white, ornate garden chairs set up near a small round table, laden with a small assortment of snacks, pastries, and dried fruits. The sunlight streaming through the glass walls bathed the interior in a soft glow, illuminating the various blooms that lined the shelves. He knew it was all carefully cultivated, each element deliberate and intentional.

You were moving around the shop, adjusting the displays, tidying leaves and stems. “Will it be coffee as usual?” You asked, not turning around, though Jinwoo knew you could see him through the butterflies fluttering around the shop. They perched on pots and stems, their attention on him as much as on you. You continued tending to a nearby orchid with a practiced grace.

He gave a slight nod, and without missing a beat, you snapped your fingers. A dainty china set floated in from the back room. A coffee mug settling near him, while a matching teacup came to rest on the opposite side of the table. Hovering between, the teapot tilted on its own, pouring him a rich, dark brew before switching to fill the teacup with a lighter, fragrant blend.

Only once the teapot had finished its task did you finally joined him, your movements smooth and unhurried, sitting across the table with your own cup in hand. The delicate clink of porcelain as you took a sip seemed to signal the start of the conversation.

"I got my rank reevaluated today," Jinwoo began, breaking the silence.

"And?" You raised an eyebrow, your expression as inscrutable as ever.

Jinwoo filled you in on his meeting with Go Gunhee, and the offer the chairman had extended to him—one that he had declined. Jinwoo also mentioned his plans to join the Hunter Guild’s dungeon raid as part of the mining team to maintain his low profile.

Your expression was contemplative as you listened, taking small sips of your tea. As the original story went, Jinwoo wanted to see what an A-rank dungeon was like.

When he finished, he leaned back, studying your reaction.

“So,” he ventured, glancing around the verdant walls of your shop, “what rank would your garden be?”

You tilted your head thoughtfully. “I can’t say for certain. The system only gave me a brief description when I first claimed it, but I suppose it’s at least an S-rank.”

“Why not have your rank reevaluated, then?” he pressed.

There was a subtle shift in your expression.

"You have your reasons," you replied simply, "and I have mine."

And he could sense that this was as much as you would share with him for now.

Jinwoo’s reasons stemmed from a desire to level up, to get stronger through battles and continuous improvement. For you, though, reevaluation would serve no purpose—your goals, your motivations, lay elsewhere.

You kept your rank low not only to remain unremarkable but also to avoid deviating from the original plot. Fame and scrutiny were the last things you wanted, especially with the system’s influence ever present in your life. You would be harder to find, able to move without attracting attention. Plus, you can no longer level up, so as far as you know, your growth rate now was the same as any other normal hunter, so little change that it might as well be stagnant.

The conversation shifted into a more casual rhythm after that, with Jinwoo watching his shadows wander through your shop, their curiosity almost childlike as they inspected the blooms. The sight was oddly endearing—the way they reached out to touch petals with surprising gentleness, as though afraid they might crush the delicate flowers. Your butterflies mingled, guiding them among the plants.

They seemed at ease, and for a moment, so did he in this quiet corner of your world.

---

As the day wore on, the sky outside turned into a brilliant gradient of gold, red, and purple. You escorted Jinwoo to the shop’s entrance. Just as he reached for the handle—

“Wait,” Cupping your hands together, magic swirled between your fingers. In moments, a bouquet materialized—sunflowers, daisies, and lavender, their colors vivid yet easy on the eyes.

“Here,” You extended the flowers to him. “For your mother.”

Jinwoo stared at the bouquet, a mix of emotions flickering across his face. When he didn’t immediately take it, you tightened your grip, determined not to let your nerves show.

“I know you still don’t fully trust me,” you began softly, letting a touch of understanding creep into your voice. “And I know you’re aware that I’ve been keeping an eye on you.” Your butterflies floated into his line of sight, hovering near your shoulder as if in silent affirmation. “But know this—I respect your privacy more than you realize.”

Jinwoo remained silent, eyes flickering with something you didn’t really recognize.

“These flowers are enchanted to absorb harmful mana.” You explained. “I’ll call back the butterfly stationed with Mrs. Sung. As that child of mine has been stabilizing her condition, these flowers will suffice in their place.” When he still didn’t move to take the bouquet, you nudged it toward him again. “I’ll still check on her occasionally, but only as needed.”

For a moment, you thought he might reject the gift altogether, but just as your hands began to falter, he reached out and took the bouquet. You noticed the slight flinch when his fingers briefly brushed against yours, though his expression remained steady.

“I’ll trust you,” Jinwoo said at last, his voice low. “At least on this matter.” He glanced down at the bouquet before letting a faint smirk lift the corner of his mouth. “If you truly meant harm, you wouldn’t have gone out of your way to help us as you did.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, and though you kept your face neutral, a small, genuine smile slipped through. “Then I’m glad I managed to convey that.”

Jinwoo took one last look around before stepping out.

“Thank you.” The words were spoken quietly, but they lingered in the air even after he disappeared into the evening. The glass door closed behind him with a final chime, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

This upcoming A-rank dungeon would be the first time he would encounter her—the one destined to become the light in his life.

A bittersweet feeling welled up within you, but before you could dwell on it too much, the bells rang again. You looked up to see a familiar head of blond hair peek through. Warm gray eyes lighting up as they found you, a radiant smile bloomed on the young woman’s face.

“(Name)!”

You returned the smile with a small one of your own as you greeted her. For a fleeting moment, your thoughts returned to Jinwoo and the future. But for now, you pushed them aside, focusing instead on the bright presence before you.

---

Jinwoo still wasn’t sure if putting his faith in you was the right decision.

He lay sprawled on his bed, the dim evening light casting long shadows across the walls of his room. He stared blankly at the ceiling, replaying the events of the day over and over in his mind.

The bouquet you had given him for his mother rested in a vase beside her hospital bed, the sunflowers, daisies, and lavender softly illuminated by the fading sunset through the hospital window. Jinwoo had stayed there a while after leaving you, watching his mother’s peaceful, sleeping form while the scent of the flowers filled the room.

The moment Jinwoo stepped into the room, the flowers’ scent seemed to amplify—not enough to cause discomfort, but definitely more pronounced than the previous subtle fragrance—and his mother’s complexion seemed to relax as well.

So, instead of the usual glow, you settled for more natural scent, and for the enchantment to be activated, it needed to be near its intended target—was that how you make it? It was so like you after all, to blend in and to take precaution of every possibility you could think of in that head of yours. To avoid falling into the wrong hands, for example, was just one out of many.

Now, with his body back home but his thoughts far away, he couldn’t shake the sense of disquiet that lingered in the back of his mind.

Trust. It was such a simple word, yet for him, it carried the weight of the world. Could he really trust you?

You were the first to extend trust between the two of you, back in that dungeon—a place where trust could so easily become a knife in the back. And yet, there you were, you had turned to him with those steady eyes, yet there was an openness that unnerved him. You extended not just your hand, but a fatal piece of yourself, to him.

That moment, he couldn’t help but wonder: were you reckless? No, he knew better. You were meticulous, thoughtful. Jinwoo had watched you from the corner of his eye in battle after battle, always noting how you seemed to be five steps ahead, anticipating threats and countering them effortlessly. Then, were you a fool? No, he knew that wasn’t it either. You were calculating, careful in every word and movement.

But then why, despite all that caution, why would you dare to show him your vulnerabilities? To expose your powers’ weakness on a silver platter unasked, practically inviting him to take advantage of it, if he were even the slightest bit more cruel?

Jinwoo was certain he didn’t know you. But you know him, maybe even deeper than he knew himself. Was that why?

He would’ve found it more believable if the system forced you into helping him. But it was made clear to him, multiple times, that it wasn’t like so. In fact, Jinwoo was almost positive that you couldn’t accompany him on certain raids because the system forbade you. And yet, you still found ways to assist him then.

Standing amidst the crumbling remnants of the stone golem, Jinwoo hadn’t known what to say. Back then, he chose the easiest, cowardly response—to stay silent. And it left the most bitter taste in his mouth.

His mind drifted further back, to when he was nothing but a pitiful E-rank Hunter struggling just to keep his head above water. You had been his lifeline, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

At first, he’d been suspicious—who wouldn’t be? Free meals delivered to his doorstep when he came home to Jinah’s worried face, mysterious donations that kept his mother’s hospital bills paid up to date when he was barely scraping by. The mysterious gifts that had arrived just when he needed them—medicines for his wounds, mana crystals and essence stones that he could still sell for decent cash, and the likes.

He had never seen you then, had only felt the faintest hint of a presence, like a shadow slipping away whenever he turned to catch it.

Those days had been hell. Waking up after collapsing in some remote corner of a godforsaken dungeon, healed but drained, with no one around. The bruises and cuts were always just nearly healed, and his exhaustion remained—a reminder that he had survived another day, but only barely. Living another day for his family had always been a relief, but there had always been the haunting possibility that the next close call might not have such a reprieve.

He hated it. Hated how he needed those mysterious interventions just to keep going. Hated the helplessness that came with relying on someone he couldn’t even see, let alone repay.

Yet at the same time… he had clung to that help like a drowning man grasping at a lifeline. those half-healed wounds and last-minute rescues—there must be a catch, there was always a price to pay, nothing in this world came for free—he just hadn’t known when it would come due.

But what choice had he had? He had been desperate. And in that desperation, he’d entertained the belief that perhaps, somewhere in the world, someone truly cared, selflessly, in a way that was almost painfully idealistic, for the hellish reality of the world that had beaten him down for his rank and lack of prospects.

After gaining the system, though, his outlook shifted as quickly as his strength grew. The mysterious aid in his mother’s hospital bills continued to arrive in his absence, and when he was caught up in instant dungeons, Jinah often remarked on the meals that still showed up during his long periods away. The quiet assistance seemed to have no end, no apparent agenda, and while it never fully left his thoughts, it had faded to the background of his life.

When he no longer needed to rely on invisible help to survive, it was at that moment that the heals disappeared. Jinwoo had chalked it up then that it was because he was often in dungeons managed by the system, where no ordinary hunter or person could get in. Could you believe he was foolish enough to believe that? That his mysterious benefactor was normal in any way?

When he’d finally agreed to Jinho’s deal, and as he grew wealthier through his own efforts, the donations, gifts, and meals followed the same pattern, and he was once again left without a single clue to its source.

There had been a strange feeling at the time, one he hadn’t wanted to admit to himself. Abandoned? No, the word felt too raw, too vulnerable. Yet, somewhere beneath his rising success, the newfound self-reliance, there was a sliver of emptiness he couldn’t quite ignore.

Something else had changed. The system itself had started acting strangely. Messages would pop up on his interface, unbidden and unsanctioned by the typical quest or informative-game-like format.

["Don't rely solely on brute force. Sometimes, retreat is necessary for a better strategy."] ["Focus on the core of the mana flow. It's not about quantity but control."]

Words of advice, encouragement, and strange observations—those cryptic phrases were always enclosed in quotation marks. And they were always signed, ‘by Trial Player [][][][].”

The blocked name, abrupt nature of the messages, it felt as if the system was glitching, borrowing someone else’s thoughts and slipping them into his notifications.

And this started happening right after all the mysterious aid ceased?

Jinwoo knew better than to believe in coincidences.

When he had finally met you in person, there was a strange déjà vu he couldn't shake. Tt was like piecing together the final fragments of a puzzle he hadn’t known he was solving, and also opening a new puzzle box altogether. Your presence was familiar, the system’s peculiar greeting had been a dead giveaway. And from that moment, Jinwoo zeroed in on you, observing your every move, waiting for you to slip up and reveal your true intentions.

Yet, if there was a hidden agenda behind your actions, it was buried deep beneath layers of genuine care. Whether it was out of obligation or something else entirely, Jinwoo had the sneaking suspicion that you would stay by his side, just as you had done when he was at his weakest, whether he wanted you to or not.

Now, sitting in the stillness of his room, Jinwoo pulled up his inventory and scrolled to the bottom, where a simple, broken set of daggers lay nestled among his spoils of war. He summoned them into his hands, the cold metal resting heavily against his skin. They were worn, chipped, and the blade edges dulled to uselessness, but they held an unmistakable sense of familiarity.

These daggers had been indispensable to him in his early days, in part because of their quality, durable beyond anything he could afford at the time, but also because the grip had fit so naturally in his hands, as if they had been forged with him in mind. And he now knew they were your creation.

Indeed, they had served him well until they finally gave out during one raid with Jinho—more from overuse than any fault in their craftsmanship. Jinwoo couldn’t bring himself to throw them away

The “Ordinary Daggers” the system had given no special description when he had saved them in his inventory for the first time.

He ran his thumb over the broken hilt, tracing the tiny, delicate butterfly engraving hidden along its base. A small detail he had noticed early on, but not knowing of its meaning until after meeting you. They were a symbol of your aid when he had nothing to offer in return.

But you had never once asked for repayment. Aside from confirming his suspicions the first time you meet, where Jinwoo basically cornered you to answer, you never brought it up after, never tried to use them as leverage against him. It made him wonder if he was the one overthinking things. Maybe, just maybe, your kindness wasn’t some elaborate trap.

The room was dimly lit, the only sound the faint hum of the city outside his window. As he sat there, the weight of the daggers in his hand was oddly comforting.

Jinwoo frowned. Trust was still a murky territory between the two of you, a minefield he wasn’t eager to tread, but one thing was clear: he was no longer the weak E-rank who had to take whatever scraps he could get. He was stronger now, strong enough to protect what was dear to him and pay back his debts, even if the other party didn’t expect it.

What could he possibly do to repay you though? Protecting you during their raids hardly felt like compensation. After all, he had been the one who insisted that you accompany him, and you had proven time and time again that you were more than capable of holding your own. In fact, more often than not, it was you who had subtly safeguarded him, providing support when he least expected it.

The spoils you collected from the raids might have been a form of compensation, but even then, it didn’t feel like enough—not to him. It felt unfair when he knew you only took what he didn’t need. Hell, you even asked for his permission. Every. Single. Damm. Time. The fact that you didn’t gain exp made it even worse.

Buying you something expensive would feel insincere. Jewelry? Clothes? Those options didn’t fit you and you weren’t the type to flaunt such things, even if you always dressed with a quiet elegance. You were far too practical for those trinkets, and besides, your craftsmanship far exceeded anything money could buy.

The thought of giving you flowers briefly crossed his mind, but he dismissed it just as quickly, scoffing. What use would a florist have for more flowers? Especially one who tended to an entire magical garden filled with blooms far beyond what Earth could offer.

But there was one thing he could offer, simple yet, something that might carry more meaning than any gift. The meals you had sent to him and Jinah, the home-cooked dishes that had warmed not just their stomachs but their hearts. You had cooked for him, even when he was a stranger. Maybe now it was his turn.

He had learned to cook well enough, decent, at least. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a good plan.

Jinwoo slipped the broken daggers back into his inventory, as a slow, determined smile spread across his lips, his heart beat just a bit faster at the thought.

A meal prepared with his own hands. Not out of obligation, but as a gesture of gratitude. It would be something small, with a personal touch—something that couldn’t be bought or forced. It would be his way of saying thank you for all the times you had been there, even when he had never asked.

Now all he needed was the right moment to invite you. He couldn’t just casually bring it up during a raid; that would be absurd. No, it had to be… thoughtful.

Yes, that was it. Dinner, at his place.

A quiet evening where he could actually get to know you, the you outside the chaos of battle at least. And maybe, just maybe, over a shared meal, he could start to understand you better. The person who had saved him time and time again, yet expected nothing in return. And who knows? Perhaps, in the warmth of a shared meal, he would finally learn to trust you.

Because as much as he hated to admit it, he wanted to. More than anything.

End Note:

Unfinished Draft of [10/11/2024] -

What do you guys think of Jinwoo's p.o.v. in this chapter?

Does the development feel too rushed? Abrupt? Too OOC, maybe? Or is it just right? Maybe needs some more details in the current, previous, and or future chapters' drafts? Any constructive feedbacks are always appreciated :)

Happy reading, Everyone! <3

#solo leveling imagine #solo leveling #only i level up #solo leveling x reader #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo #yandere sung jinwoo #solo leveling jinwoo #sung jin woo #jinwoo sung x reader #solo leveling fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #fem reader #x reader #reader insert

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plaguedwithlove · 3 months ago

Text

What Lies In The Water

Yandere! Water deity x fem!reader

Warnings: third person point of view, self-sacrifice, non-con, willing reader(but not really), doing it on land

-------------------------------------

The girl sheds herself of her garbs, the wind sends her slight chills down her spine yet she dips her foot in the water soon as she is bare, for the deity that curses these waters has no patience

Looking behind her one last time at her village, she lets out a small goodbye and walks slowly into the jaws of the angered spirit, an act of self sacrifice

Going deeper into the pond, her (h/c) hair flowing behind her like a veil, awaiting her fate

Then she feels it, the water current surrounds her like greedy hands, the currents course around her breasts, her thighs, areas that were most sensitive to the touch

The water slowly forms into hands, large and rough. Touching her as if examining her, sensual yet possessive. Her breath hitches when she feels what was akin to lips trail up from her back to her neck

"Mmm, what a fine compromise here, I am pleased with this gift from your people."

The girl keeps her head low, not bearing to look at the eyes she will see for the rest of her life, to the being that now possessed her body and her soul

"Let me look at you, sweeting." He whispers in her whisper as she gently grabs her chin to look at him

The gloomy grey eyes was the first thing she saw, she gasps and becomes overwhelmed at how beautiful he was

Such long platinum blonde wavy hair he had, and a regal nose to emphasize how elegant his face was. A gentle face for a cruel soul

"By the heavens above, such a pretty little thing you are. I am surprised your village let such a beautiful flower get plucked." The way his hands explore the girl's body was in contrast to how he looked at her, almost like a lover would

He did love her though

Love her like a nobleman loves his most prized possessions

Love her like a princess loves her jewelry

Love her like a King loves his power

"Tell me your name, o beloved."

She had willingly gave away her body to this deity, she was hesitant to give away her final keeping, her name. What more could he take from her before she is left with nothing? She'd rather him to call her a nickname for the rest of time if it meant he'll never know her true name

"Come now, we have all night but I truly wish do not desire to prolong our process of union."

Despite, how vague he was, she completely understood what would happen tonight, he was a man still after all. He would take her purity and ravish her until she is no more

Her name escapes her lips with a slight choke, she had nothing to lose anymore

The deity smiles fondly, content with her submission

"(Name), consort to Glyndwr for all of eternity."

Then, he leads her near the shore to her surprise, she had expected him to sink her down in the deep with him

Once reaching where the water meets the dry land, Glyndwr gently pushes her on the ground

"Relish in our consummation as this will be the last time you will ever be on land, my water lily."

Her eyes widen in horror and dread, though she still lies down, completely at the mercy of her now husband, the hellstorm of emotions happening inside her in stark difference to her compliance

She remains down where the water still touches her, yet not enough to where she would be engulfed

Glyndwr's body was in full view, pale and large. Not much muscles, yet a strong physique, he gets on his knees wrapping her legs around his waist, his cock ready to penetrate her. He caresses her thighs before reaching her plump ass. Squeezing gently at the cheek

"May the skies witness the ceremony of our love."

His hips lean back before slowly pushing forward inside her, he sighs in pleasure, she cries in pain

Once fully inside her, he lets out a groan biting at his bottom lips to prevent himself from screaming from the overblowing ecstasy

His bride beneath him shakes in discomfort, eyes becoming shiny from the tears

'It will all become bliss in no time, patience."

His hips move back and forth in a steady pace, the rhythm of his body causes the water around them to splash and ripple disorderly

If the sound of their skin crashing wasn't enough proof to her ears of forced sex, then the pain in her abdomen would be

Promised pleasure never came, only anguish and silent moans of hurting

What only came was the seed of Glyndwr coursing inside her body

"That should take, but it doesn't matter if it does not now, for we shall continue this in the depths of our home."

Picking up his motionless bride, Glyndwr sets her in his arms, slowly walking into the abyss, never again would she see the sun shine

#yandere x reader #yandere male #yancore #yandere #tw: noncon #yandere smut

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mayajadewrites · 7 months ago

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could've been you - shouta aizawa x fem! reader, hawks x fem! reader

chapter eleven

this chapter is all about this sexy ass man so we're all gonna stare at this beautiful photo of him thank u

✦ story synopsis: You're the new teacher at UA with a rocky past with one of their beloved teachers, Shouta Aizawa aka Eraserhead. You'd rather never see him again but alas, such is life. You also meet Keigo, aka Hawks, who is the opposite of Aizawa. Smiley, golden retriever energy.

✦ chapter content warnings: unprotected sex

✦ relationships: aizawa x fem!reader, hawks x fem!reader

ao3

TAG LIST:

@come-away-with-me87, @kxshdoll, @evilsanzu, @friendly-neighborhood-turtle, @lili-pond,

@the-unhinged-raccoon @falling4fandoms @cherry-cosmoz @kkgraham @big-denki-energy @aphrodite-xoxo @keiweeny @minminroie @skazewrld @crimsonsaki

You took an everything shower, making sure to scrub every crevice of your body. You applied your sweetest smelling lotion - notes of vanilla.

You take a deep breath as you look in the mirror. You almost didn't recognize the woman in front of you. You're finally, finally giving Shouta a chance to prove himself.

Just 24 hours ago, you were tangled in the sheets with Keigo.

But that is the past. The past that needs to stay in the past.

Keigo is younger than you, not too much but enough to where you feel as though you're from two different worlds.

He has fans. You're not used to women fawning over a man you were with - a man they would take in 2 seconds if they could.

"Tch." You suck your teeth as you turn to your closet to sift through your clothes.

"Shouta's favorite color is black." You tap your chin with your index finger. You pull out a black, off the shoulder crop top with long, mesh sleeves. Your tits look phenomenal, honestly. They're pushed up and the shimmer from your lotion hits the lighting perfectly.

You grab black washed ripped jeans and your favorite pair of simple black heels before you put on your makeup. Your hair was loosely curled as you ran your fingers through the ends with oil.

7:55 PM.

You heard a knock at your door. You were skeptical, since it wasn't 8 yet. Did Keigo come back?

You look through the door hole and see Shouta with his hair pulled back in a bun, dressed in all black. He had a giant bouquet of red roses - had to be at least 5 dozen.

"You clean up nice." Your eyes ran up and down his body as you opened the door.

"You still stink." Shouta smirked as he walked into your place. He handed you the flowers for you to put in a vase.

"You're 5 minutes early, sir."

Shouta didn't answer you, he just sat down on the couch and pulled his phone out. "So whatever you need to do in the next 5 minutes, do it."

You spray your favorite perfume on your skin before taking one last look in the mirror.

"Ready."

Shouta opened the passenger door of his car, a black sedan. Practical.

The inside was very clean though, which you appreciated.

"Where are we going?" You turn him, crossing your ankles.

"You'll see."

He started to drive, his eyes every now and again finding their way to you. You look down at his large, veiny hands. You wanted to touch them. You wanted them to touch you.

He must've felt the same, because the next thing you knew his hand was wrapped around your thick thigh. He squeezed the sides gently, smirking at the plushness of your skin.

You look out the window as his hand caresses your leg, always coming back to your thigh. You bit your bottom lip, hoping he didn't notice how flustered he was making you already.

He picked out a cute sushi restaurant - the inside looked beautiful with twinkly lights and waterfalls.

When he let you out of the car, he took your hand gently and lead you to the door. You felt his hand squeeze yours, as if to make sure you're actually there.

You were led to your table, in a more secluded part of the restaurant.

"It's so pretty in here." You look around.

"You don't remember what you said about this place, do you?"

You shook your head.

"We were on patrol one day, and this place just opened. You said you wanted to try it when you had money to, since we had just become pro heroes."

"How do you remember that?" You cross your legs under the table.

"I remember everything." His eyes stay on you as he sips his miso soup.

You felt bold, so you dragged your foot down his leg gently under the table. You watched him almost spit out his soup, which made you laugh.

"Feeling brave, hm?" Shouta kept his eyes on you.

You nod, continuing to rub his leg with your foot. You tilt your head to the side as you take a sip of your water, your lips wrapping around the straw.

Shouta turned his head to look at a fish tank, trying to get his mind off of the fact that he wanted to take you on the table right then and there.

The rest of dinner was filled with sexual innuendos, reminiscing on memories, good memories, and more sexual innuendos.

Your pussy was already soaked thinking about what will happen when you get home.

"Well, here we are." Shouta deliberately went past your door to his as his hand squeezed yours. You smiled as he put his key in the door, turning it quickly. You take a few steps in before you bend down to take your heels off.

"Let me help." Shouta kneeled down to the floor, his chocolate eyes boring into yours. He unbuckled your heel, sliding it off your foot slowly. You let out a breath from being let go from the tight heel, your foot finally being able to relax. Shouta kissed your ankle once before moving onto your other foot.

You watched from above as Shouta took your other heel off, his hands dragging up your legs to your hips as he stood up.

Your eyes were filled with lust as you leaned into Shouta's body, your hands pressing against his muscular chest.

"Are you still feeling brave?" He purred.

That's it.

You pressed your lips against his gently, gripping his shirt in your hand with a fist. Shouta grabbed your face with both of his hands, making sure you stay close to him.

You tilt your head as you kiss him, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks as he slips his tongue in your mouth. A breathy moan escapes your throat against his lips - a sound that was filled with lust and need.

"Should we move to the bed?" Shouta's words sounded like music to your ears. You nod as he lifts you up by your hips, planting his large hands on your ass. His lips find yours again as you wrap your legs around his waist. He lifted you like it was nothing.

Once you were back in his room, he gently laid you down on his bad, your hair pooling around his pillows. He was hovering over you, his arms caging you in. He unbuttoned his shirt, which was so unintentionally sexy. You followed his lead and took your shirt off, your tits bouncing when they released from the fabric.

"No bra?" Shouta kissed your lips again as he threw his shirt to the floor. "Dirty girl."

"Bras hurt." You wrap your hand around his wrist with your dainty hand, bringing his large hand to your breast. "Touch me, Shouta."

His movements were timid at first as he stared at your beautiful, supple chest. Your tits are huge, in a way that makes Shouta want to bury his face in them. His fingertips grazed the skin on your nipple, goosebumps immediately forming. You bit your lips with anticipation as he finally took a handful of your breast in his head, squeezing it gently.

"God, Shouta. Your touch is like fire." You throw your head back as he massages your breasts. His eyes flicker to yours as he lowers his head to your chest, his mouth wrapping around the nipple on the other breast.

You gasp as he starts sucking on your sensitive nub, his other hand kneading your tit. "Fuck." You press your head to the back of his head as his mouth let go of your nipple with a 'pop'. He kissed the valley in between your breasts as he made his way to your soft stomach, kissing right above your belly button, them to the top of your jeans.

You were getting impatient. Your pussy was throbbing with need, but Shouta liked to take his time. He knew you were getting fussy, too.

"Impatient one, hm?" Shouta smirked as he undid the button to your jeans.

"Shouta, please." You pout. "I need you inside of me."

"Inside of you... is that right?" He grabbed your belt loops, pulling your pants down to reveal your black thong.

"Yes." You nod, reaching for his pants. He did most of the work in taking them off, but hey, you tried. You were too full of lust to truly assist him.

He slowly pulled his boxer briefs off, his long, fat cock springing against his abdomen.

This man is ripped and he never shows it. What a shame.

But you get to be the one to see him.

Truly see him.

You watch his cock with amazement - you've never really thought about how big Shouta is - but you had a feeling he wouldn't be on the small side. A few pieces of his hair fell out of his bun to frame his face as he pulled your thong off of you. He tore the fabric so easily that they ripped right there.

"You're too strong for your own good, Eraserhead." You smirked as you looked at your broken pair of panties. "You owe me a new pair."

"I'll buy you as many panties as you want. I'm keeping these though." Shouta leaned into your neck, placing kisses marks on your skin. He sucked on your sensitive spot - his tongue swirling around the new bruise.

The cold air of Shouta's room hit your pussy as he kissed you. He was so close to you, but not enough. You wanted to feel him, all of him.

"Do you have condoms?" You felt your pussy clench around nothing.

"I don't. And I prefer not to use them." Shouta removed himself from your neck to look at you. "Did you use them with the bird?"

You nod, bringing your hand to the back of his head.

"Once I'm inside you, you're mine. Ok?" Shouta kissed your lips roughly, his cheeks a shade of pinkish-red.

"Yours?"

"You heard me. That means no more bird. That means there's no reason to use condoms. I'm clean, you're clean."

You watched Shouta's movements, trying to decipher if he's joking or not. But there was no sense of softness in his eyes.

"I want to fuck you when I want." Shouta kissed your lips. "Wherever I want." He placed a hot kiss on your neck again. "I want to feel all of you, got it?"

You nod. "I'm yours, Shouta."

Those were the words that ignited something in Shouta Aizawa. You felt his fat tip rub against your slits, coating them with his pre-cum.

You spread your legs to give Shouta a better view. He used one hand to guide his cock inside of you, his other hand on your plush hip.

You felt his tip slide inside of you, a cry leaving your lips.

"Shhh, it's just the tip baby." He slowly pushed himself inside you, finally going past the tip. Your pussy clenched against him as he watched his cock disappear inside of you. "So tight, fuck." He slid the rest of him inside of you, watching your eyes roll back.

Shouta brought his hand to your face, caressing your cheek as he established his rhythm. Your tits bounced with his movements, the sound of his balls hitting your skin filling the room.

Your back arched as he leaned down to your neck, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he pounded into your plush walls.

"Fuck, baby." Shouta's moans were sinful. You could feel your pussy clenching his cock tightly, the coil in your stomach tightening. "You're so wet, so tight, damn."

The sound of your wet pussy was all Shouta could hear. He started to pound into you faster, his hands squeezing your hips roughly. His fingertips left marks on your skin.

"I've dreamt about this pussy, did you know that?"

A whimper left your lips, the coil tightening again. You turn your head to the side as you feel your orgasm approaching. Shouta took notice, bringing his thumb to your swollen clit. Your body twitched at his touch, bringing your euphoria that much closer.

"Shouta I'm gonna come." You moaned his name, tangling your fingers in his raven hair.

"I didn't say you could." He rubbed circles on your clit, using your own arousal to coat the nub.

"P-please."

"No." He slammed his entire length into you as he rubbed your clit, the sound of his cock pounding into you making your ears ring.

You couldn't hold it anymore.

"Shouta, please."

"Daddy."

"D-Daddy, please."

He moved his hand from your aching clit, bringing his lips to yours as he thrusted into you. You took that as an okay, so you let yourself free. The coil broke, your body involuntarily squirming. "Shouta." You moaned when you wrapped your arms around his neck, his skin sweaty. His face was in your neck, biting the skin as his pace became sporadic. You felt his muscular chest against yours, your fingertips dragging along his back - which is also very muscular. You dig your nails into his skin as he reaches places you never thought anyone could.

"Where should I come?" His voice was so low you almost couldn't hear him.

With lust on your mind, there was only one answer.

"Inside." You let out a breathy moan.

"Trying to trap me already?" He smirked. "Don't worry baby, this cock is yours forever whether you like it or not."

"I'm on the pill."

Shouta pushed himself into you one last time before he released himself inside of you, his white juices covering your walls. He was at the hilt of his cock - a ring of a white substance around his member.

You whimpered when his cock retreated from you. From the sudden loss of him. Shouta kissed your swollen lips before going to the bathroom to grab towels. He helped clean your body up, kissing your forehead when he was done.

You both stared at each other in that moment. Lost in each other's presence, in this moment. You couldn't help but kiss Shouta's lips again and again, savoring this moment.

"Yours." You kissed his lips once more as he wrapped his arms around your naked body.

"Mine." He pressed his cheek to the top of your head as you laid your head on his chest, drifting off to sleep.

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zealousllamawolf · 9 months ago

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Lost in the Woods (Alastor x Reader) Part 2

!!Minors Please DNI!!

Pairing- Alastor x Reader

Summary- After having a heated moment before someone interrupts Alastor eagerly comes back to show you what you had missed.

Word Count- 1.7K

Warnings- none I think

Tags- SMUT, blood sharing, rough sex, p in v, oral (Alastor receiving) OOC Alastor if you blink.

Part 1

~Alastor’s POV~

Alastor scuffs as he pulls Nifty out of the ice machine behind that bar sitting her down, wiping the ice flakes off her nose. “There you go dear’ he wipes his hands on his coat, turning to look at Charlie. “Now, was all you need darling,’ a hint of annoyance bubbled over, eager to return to your disheveled body in the bayou.

“Yes, sorry about that,” Charlie shuffles awkwardly at his impatience.

‘’You know how Nifty is, who knows what bug she went after.” Alastor chuckles patting Nifty on the head, lighting up his tone. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I have business to attend to” he smiles mischievously as he disappears back into the shadows moving through them to his room.

Desire once returning to his crotch stretching the fabric tautly, clearing his throat once he remembers the feeling of your cunt under in fingers, wondering if you were wet below the thin barrier of clothes. Alastor decision to leave his shadow to watch over you paid off; there you were stripping off your clothes down to just your undergarments as he watched though his shadow’s eyes. You make your way over the pond’s dock before sticking your foot in the water seemly to evaluate the temperature.

Once Alastor reaches his room, he teleported to the edge of the pond near the dock behind you. Taking in your figure though half-lidded eyes his stare trails up and down your body stopping around your plump backside before noticing a large thin scar that trailed around your waist following the curve of your hip before stopping above your lower back. You were perfect, he thought to himself grinning lustfully.

“My, my dear, it seems you have made yourself quite comfortable” his voice dropping lowly, you jump and lose your balance tipping backwards into the water. Alastor rushes forward, dropping to his knees he peers over the edge waiting for you to break the surface for air, when you didn’t come back up after a long thirty seconds the duckweed blocking his view under the water Alastor quickly stands up and throw off his coat off, kicking off his shoes unbuttoning his shirt before scanning the water’s surface again. He leans down again over the dock’s edge as your faces pops up under a lily pad hiding underneath staring up at Alastor grinning.

“Oh, you checky girl.” Alastor says breathlessly hanging his head lowly in relief, the tension leaving his shoulders. Why did he feel such a need to dive in the water after you? He wanted to protect you, keeping you all to himself, wanted to mark you and show everyone you were his and his only. Anger starter to rise unable to catch his breath, he pants out “Never do that again,’ wincing at his sharp tone he adds, “Please,’ softly.

He watches you swim up to him resting your arms on the dock you grab his arm reassuringly, “Okay, I won’t if you come in here with me” you say pushing yourself up enough out of the water and plant a soft kiss on his cheek before trailing kisses down his jawline, Alastor growls in response hastily shedding his shirt and pants. A night swim is a bad idea anyways, Alastor indulges.

He sits down with his feet over the edge before slipping in the lukewarm water completely submerging himself even though he can touch the bottom. He feels his shoulder being yanked up by your hands, so he abides rising himself up out the water, directly in front of you. You wrap your hands around his shoulders and link your legs around his waist. Alastor groans at the sudden pressure pressing against his crotch and bring his hands to your hips noticing your panties were no longer on your bottom as well as your bare chest pressing against his, in the distance he sees your undergarments floating at the surface.

“Ha, ha so eager little doe.” Alastor says as he runs his hands to your ass cheeks gripping them tightly. You throw back your head grinding against his hardening cock. “But patience is a virtue,’ he says teasing.

Alastor twists around with you still connected at the hips. He pushes further into the water on his back, the movement sliding his length down your uncovered core making you moan at the friction. Resting your hands on his chest you arch your back allowing him to see your breasts peeking up out of the water duckweed sticking to your upper half.

“But Alastor, I need you,’ you say pleadingly.

“Oh, forgive me but I thought we were taking a nice night swim?” he cocks an eyebrow at you, making you frown in desperation, Alastor gins enjoying teasing you knowing he will not be able to hold out much longer as his cock twitches with desire.

You lean down and plant a feverish kiss directly on his, sliding your tongue on his bottom lip tasting a hint a blood from his fresh cut lip. The heat from your kiss snaps something in Alastor and in an instant, he teleports both of you to the closest tree, pushing you against the trunk. He deepens the kiss exploring your mouth feeling one of your sharp canines nick his bottom lip making you kiss him more intensity. Alastor pulls back with a low groan.

“You know idea what you are doing to me my dear,” Alastor says breathless shuddering when you run your fingers through his hair gripping at the root making him suck in a breath.

“S-show me, Al” you beg grinding on his cock.

“It hurts that you assume I would give in that quickly silly girl.” Alastor lies slickly through his teeth, chuckling when you pout at him although it does not last too long before you unwrap your legs from his waist and start to get on your knees running your hands down his chest as you meet the ground stopping when you reach his hips. “So perfect,’ he whispers when you start to pull down his briefs.

You look up with pleading eyes “May I sir?” his cock twitched at being called ‘sir,’ he runs his thumb on your cheekbone glowing down at you and nods.

He used his spare arm and rest it against the tree letting out a moan as you free his throbbing cock, the cool air cooling his precum that started to gather at his aching red tip. He watches as you stare hungrily at his length groaning as your mouth encases his tip, sliding down taking him inch by inch till your mouth takes all of him.

“So sweet of you taking my cock like a good girl.” Alastor gasps as you pull him out of your mouth twirling your tongue around his tip before diving back down again picking up speed, moaning sends vibrations all around his cock, resulting in him thrusting into to your mouth going past the curve of your throat. “Mmh, you make me feel so good darling,” you look up at him unable to say anything as he gently thrusts into your mouth tears forming in your eyes. You slide him out of your mouth with a pop.

“Are you going to show me now how much I make you feel good now?” you ask cheekily, Alastor respond by picking you back up like you weighed nothing, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist again, teasing you with his tip lined up with your dripping entrance. Aching your back made his tip slip in making you moan at the sensation; you try to lower yourself further on to his cock but his firm hands stops you. You look at him with a crazed face, but he just stares at you grinning maliciously before thrusting into you with such force making you release all the air from your lungs. You gasp unable to catch your breath as he does not stop before pulling out of you, slamming back into your gummy walls. “O-oh God,” you shudder.

“No dear its only me here and me only making you feel this way.” Alastor starts roughing fucking you into the tree. He does not stop there, forcing your legs higher pressing them against your chest, all that was holding you up now was your back firmly pressed against the tree and the pace he thrusted into you. Every time he pulls out, his tip pressed against your g-spot making waves of pleasure course though your body, he feels your walls clamp around his cock. Alastor changes his angle until he hits the right spot making you moan his name, hearing his name come out of your swollen lip makes him go feral, the coil in his stomach tightens further, he knows your close too when your legs start to push against his hands.

“Just like that Alastor, please” you beg tears falling down your face, your whole body tightens, and he hears you scream his name as your release floods your body, your walls spasming around his cock.

“Almost there little doe.” He growls picking up his pace to unnatural pace chasing his own high.

“C-can I bite you?” you say fixed gaze at his neck.

“Yes, dear take your fill” you don’t wait till be finished speaking as your bit down hard at the curve of this throat, making his groan in pain, the sensation spread though his body right down to his cock, with one last trust he finishes inside of you panting. You do not stop your assault running your tongue against the wound you created until the blood stopped flowing freely.

Pulling back both of you panting with his cock still buried deep in your cunt. He pulls out, his seed pouring out of your elevated cunt. You close your eyes as he carries you to his bedroom, he whispers pressing his mouth to your ear, “You did so well, but now it time for you to rest. You have a very busy night ahead of you.” He says softly.

That was the last thing you hear before falling asleep in his arms. Alastor sighs contently with you sleeping on his chest, he slowly traced your faded scar wondering what happened.

~~~

A/N

I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

____________________________________________________

Tag List

@cutesytwt @opulentshits @elegant-face-tree @walnutnut @lustylita

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel radio demon #alastor smut #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x y/n

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drluvsick · 6 months ago

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𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐘 — 𝐠𝐢𝐲𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚

giyu and water lilies have much in common; ft. self conscious giyu! 📝 gn! reader. little hurt to comfort, mostly fluff. didn’t proofread, umm didn’t like the execution for this… for the vitamin u event!

word count : 800+

𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂 . . . 𝘚𝘗𝘈𝘊𝘌 𝘚𝘖𝘕𝘎 (𝘚𝘗𝘌𝘋 𝘜𝘗) — 𝘉𝘌𝘈𝘊𝘏 𝘏𝘖𝘜𝘚𝘌

water lilies are known to symbolize many things. they can also be associated with the person you love most in so many aspects.

resurrection. water lilies shut themselves at night only to open up again in the morning, and some people believe in the symbolism of resurrection because of the flowers emerging from the murky waters of their home into the light of the rays of the sun.

it reminds you of your closest friend, giyu, in the way that he had happiness before—the innocence of being a child, so distant from any bad thing that could affect his reality only to be crushed completely at the death of his best friend. that happiness, though never in its old form, came back when he met you, resurrected from within after so many years of denying it. his happiness, in a way, had resurrected. different, but the same warm feeling nonetheless.

“…you spend so much time with me.”

you pick at another weak flower, putting its petals precariously in his hair. you save the stronger flowers as a whole to put securely on top of his head. giyu holds his own water lily, red in color. he doesn’t do anything with it, though. he just holds it in his hands, resting them on his thighs.

“is that a bad thing?” you question.

“not necessarily,” he responds, “i just think you could spend your days doing something more… productive…than spending time with me of all people.”

“what brought this on?” you glance at him, seeing his eyes staring at the water, the flower, anywhere but you. he was beautiful.

beauty. there’s something about the way those flowers rest in the places they live; simply floating on pond surfaces with their petals stuck together like a living community living near other groups of communities, with their multiple colors characterized as different symbolisms and the calmness they seem to exude.

giyu’s pretty, handsome—any praiseworthy words complimenting his looks. but it’s not all about that, is it? his personality’s certainly unique than that of his fellow comrades. albeit rather stuck in the past, he’s quite the worrywart for people he cares about, even if at first he can be a bit mean and forlorn (although, before you’d met him, the “forlorn” part could’ve been pretty accurate…). he’s kind, gentle, and calm—beauty rarely found outside and inside a person, even if he can rarely notice it himself.

“someone told me to stop wasting your time. i’m beginning to think they’re right,” giyu places the flower in his hands into the water, watching as the wind carries it away from him as petals fly from his hair to the surface in tow.

“who told you that?” you ask, surprised at the disinterested look on his face. you expected much, but after all this time… maybe you’d hoped that he’d be a little more interested in wanting your interactions to not end.

“it doesn’t mat—”

“giyu.”

he stays silent for a hot few seconds before admitting, his eyes semi-closing as he opens his mouth a few times before managing to speak. “it…it was just a feeling. mixed with some comments i’ve heard from the other hashiras.”

you don’t push on the matter of who said what further, instead opting to be nearer on the matter of keeping his hopes alive that you want to be with him.

“do you want our meetings to stop?”

he sighs. “…no. of course not.” you both watch as the red water lily from before bumps into him, his hands reluctantly reaching to lift it up again.

“that’s good,” you exhale in relief, “then i’m free to continue spending time with you—not wasting it, there’s a difference—without anyone stopping me.”

your conclusion made him think that what he’d just proposed was silly. you both sat for a few minutes in silence, you looking for something as giyu sat staring at the water lily in his palms.

he snapped out of his trance when he felt you put a flower on his head, hearing you softly laugh as you tucked and moved his hair this way and that to hold it in place.

“…i love you.” he murmured.

enlightenment.

you froze once you processed those words, giyu wincing and his eyes widening once he registered what he’d uttered.

it can mean understanding. whether that be understanding the many meanings and symbolisms from one of july’s flowers to understanding the people around you.

you slowly smiled, moving your hands from the delicate flower to his shoulders, kneeling in order to hug him and whisper, “i love you too,” to him.

it reminds you of giyu in the way that you spent awhile to recognize his pains of what had happened to him and how those horrors had trailed and haunted him to his adulthood. how you deciphered his emotions through his stoic shield of protection. how you took the time to really understand him, to get to this point.

he carefully guided your head to face him, his lips ineptly finding yours as you helped him through the process, the red water lily set next to him as he embraced you fully.

red water lilies symbolize pure love. it’s just another reason why these particular flowers remind you so much of the person you loved most.

overluvsick | please do not repost, translate, and/or claim my works as yours !!

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fairyofshampgyu · 2 years ago

Text

Only Yours

genre: smut, college au

Pairing: sub ! gyu x possessive dom! gn reader (afab when comes to smut)

Warnings: sub! beomgyu, dom! reader, possessiveness ?palming, handjob, riding, kinda rough sex ig, dacryphilia

word count: 1.1k

Beomgyu walks across campus near where the the little pond and park was situated as he took the the time to embrace the surrounding nature; pretty lily pads sat on the water, coi fishes elegantly swimming in all kinds of directions and purple dragonflies hovering above with their transparent wings buzzing. He really did like this area of the campus. It was so pretty. And one of the first things he noticed that caught his eye to end up applying to the uni.

With his earphones in, he listened to music as he enjoyed the peaceful and quiet, scenic stroll, but that was abruptly interrupted as he felt a hand softly tap his shoulder.

Not being able to hear them, he took one of his wired buds out and swiftly turned around.

“Sorry?”

“Beomgyu right? We’ve sat next to each other in class a few times! I was… wondering if you wanted to get coffee sometime, you’re…you’re pretty cute!” They beamed, fidgeting with their hands uncertainly.

Beomgyu was taken aback, he can’t lie he’d never noticed this person in his class before ever, feeling pretty flattered right now. He can’t control the small smile taking up on his features, but ready to somehow politely and not awkwardly turn them down on their offer.

You were also near the campus pond, sitting on a bench nearby, waiting and waiting, and then finally excitedly noticing your boyfriend, realising he was chatting with someone else at the moment. Someone who was being a bit too close with your boyfriend than you would have liked.

It wouldn’t usually bother you, you know beomgyu is extremely attractive, taking pride in it, your relationship still fairly recent and you weren’t insecure about the lingering stares on him when you walked hand in hand to classes together, beomgyu completely oblivious to the hushed giggles once he walked past, but something about it today ticked you off the wrong way. Do people still not know he’s dating you?

You couldn’t help going up to them, running to beomgyu to embrace him in a hug from behind, resting your head on his shoulder as your hands made their way to grip on his waist-a little too tightly- “Baby! There you are, I was looking for you!” You press a kiss to his cheek.

Beomgyu stutters, slightly blushing and can’t help raising an eyebrow at your unlikely actions. You were never this affectionate or touchy to him in public much to his dismay sometimes, and you would rarely call him cute petnames in front of other people, not that he was complaining at all to this.

“Who’s this, baby?” You ask, clinging onto his arm, a bit too tight and he couldn’t help noticing you stepping in front of him a little bit as if protecting him, he tries to stifle a laugh at your antics.

“Oh, they’re just in my class.” Beomgyu replies, smiling.

“Hi…” The other person quickly shies away.

“Oh! um… nice to meet you! Baby, we’ve got to go we can’t be late for our date. Bye!” And with that you drag beomgyu by his arm, rushing and walking away from the other person before either of them could say anything.

Beomgyu bursts out laughing once you’re far away enough. “What was that? We don’t even have a date!” Beomgyu smirks and teases you. “Oh were you jealous y/n?”

“Shut up.” You mumble, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“It was pretty hot, you being possessive of me like that. And you should definitely call me ‘baby’ and be like that in public more often. That was so cute.” Beomgyu chuckles.

Beomgyu tries to keep up with your fast pace, hand tightly holding his and dragging him along. “Where we going anyway?”

“Your place.”

Once inside, you roughly push beomgyu on his bed and straddle his lap, pinning his hands above his head, making him gasp.

You attack his lips, kissing him with a fervour he hadn’t experienced before, trailing down and feverishly nipping at his sensitive neck, hands tangled in his hair, pulling it slightly, making beomgyu moan loudly, his usual smooth-talking demeanor replaced by incoherent stuttering.

“Y-y/n what are you—ah…that feels so good…”

You silence him with another kiss, your hand moving down to palm his clothed dick, his body jerks, whimpering your name.

You continue to palm him and lick and suck at his neck, reactions already so pretty. You take his dick out, covered in precum, stroking him which gets his moans even more high pitched, gasping at your every touch, never having seen you act like this towards him before and he can’t say he wasn’t absolutely enjoying it. Cum dribbling out of the tip of his dick constantly as you pump his dick whilst he pants, unable to do anything but moan.

You take your shirt off and your pants, positioning his dick to your pussy and sinking down on his wet dick, not giving him any time to even think before you’re relentlessly riding him, not starting off at a slow pace at all, still holding his wrists down tightly. Beomgyu’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he yelps, screaming your name out loud in surprise.

You don’t stop, roughly bouncing on his dick, wet sounds erupting the room from his cock pumping in and out of you but still not overtaking beomgyu’s loud sounds, his whole body prettily flushed, face so red.

If only everyone could see how beomgyu was like for you right now, at this moment you wanted them and beomgyu himself to get it in his head that you were only his, pretty face and pretty body only yours so why would they still stare at beomgyu like a piece of meat? It was starting to get under your skin honestly.

“Mmh, only mine aren’t you?...” You grab his chin roughly, making his fucked out face look you in the eyes as he groans in response.

“Say it.” You take one of your hands to roughly tug at his hair, beomgyu rolling his eyes at the feeling and stuttering.

“y-yes, yours…ah—I’m only yours! No one else’s…” Beomgyu obliges deliriously with half lidded eyes, finding you so hot right now.

“Good boy.”

Beomgyu eye’s widen, breath hitching, face turning somehow even redder, aroused by the name.

“Say it again…please…”

You smirk, leaning and brushing your lips against his ear, “You’re such a good boy.” Beomgyu only grows more and more flustered, seemingly liking the new pet name.

“I-I am?” Beomgyu’s voice shaky and barely above a whisper.

You chuckle, “Yeah, baby. My good boy.” You stroke his hot cheek with your thumb, bringing your lips back to beomgyu’s, kissing and sucking and biting at his swollen lips.

You mercilessly ride his cock against your gummy walls at a violent and aggressive pace, beomgyu’s head hitting against his bed at your thrusts. Your tits prettily bouncing in front of his face and he reaches his hand out to grope them.

“I-I can’t y/n…need to cum—fuck!” Beomgyu can’t even keep his eyes level at this point, continuously rolling back on their own with tears blurring his vision even more, seeing stars when his hot thick cum gushes inside you none stop, beomgyu’s body trembling and shaking like a leaf.

You hold his hand and he grips on with his life, even his hands shaky as he tries to recover from his high, mind in a daze and panting wildly as he looks up at you prettily with wide watery eyes still in shock.

You carry on after he’s calmed down though, fucking him rough, not stopping until all you remember is beomgyu’s loud cries and screams of your name, the only thing beomgyu able to give out tears and cum continuously, milking him spent until there’s no tears falling from his eyes or cum spurting from his dick left and his throat is all hoarse. Beomgyu’s dorm walls so thin you can only imagine what other people can hear.

You kinda want other people to hear beomgyu moaning your name though.

“Wake up sleepyhead, you’re gonna miss your class.” Beomgyu flicks your forehead.

“Ow! What the fuck?” You place your hand to your head, rubbing the area. Beomgyu chuckles, but replaces your hand with a kiss on your forehead instead and then peppers some more kisses on your face, flopping his head to muzzle in your neck again. “How come you’re not rushing to get up?” You raise a brow, curiously.

“I don’t have any classes which means I can sleep in as much as I like.” Beomgyu grins triumphantly, doing a little short sleepy victory dance.

“Lucky.” You grimace.

“Oh my god—look how many fucking marks you left on me last night!” Beomgyu pouts, showing you the dozens of bruises and hickeys scattered all on his body. “Someone definitely had fun. I didn’t know you were so scandalous like that, y/n.” He dramatically gasps, teasing you.

“Well you look so pretty marked up like that. How can I not?” You say, unapologetic.

“I think it’s safe to say that it’s pretty clear now to everyone that I’m in a relationship.”

“Maybe I’ll leave even more before I go.” You grin, turning to tilt his chin up and pull him in a kiss. “Don’t cover them.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Beomgyu grins.

Please !!! reblog !!! & !!! comment !!! if you like the fic. Feedback is always so nice. It’s really appreciated and so so nice if you do tysm !<3🙏💕😊 🌷It’s discouraging and sad when fics have such little reblogs 👎🤨🤨:(

#beomgyu smut #txt smut #beomgyu x reader #sub!idol #sub!beomgyu #txt headcanons #txt scenarios #dom!reader #choi beomgyu smut #sub txt #sub beomgyu #beomgyu scenarios #txt imagines #sub idol #dom reader

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yallthemwitches · 3 months ago

Text

The Gift

“It would be really sexy you know—you and me all greasy, getting the bike fixed up in the hot sun. Maybe we could take a break down by the pond? I can wash you off with my—” “Are you serious? You think you are going to seduce me into helping you?” She feels him wiggle his hips against her. “Is it working?”

A short, silly one (with the triumphant return of Euphemia!) for @jilytoberfest Day 23: Indulging in Hobbies.

AO3 Here

“Oh my gods.”

“Darling, please don’t be angry.”

“Oh my GODS.”

“Look I promise we will make it safe—wear a hamlet or whatever they are called—we just need a little help is all.”

Lily whips around, her boyfriend shrinking away from her as she glares at him.

“What does Remus say about this?” She demands, mouth fixed in a straight line.

“He says to ask you.”

It sounds like Remus: deflecting to get out of complete lunacy. She honestly can’t even be mad at him for it.

“No. I’m not doing it.”

James takes a step forward, eyes round like globes under his glasses, pouting with a jutted lower lip.

“Please baby. You’re the smartest witch I know and—”

“Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere, Potter.”

She looks back at the motorbike. The sleek finish glints in the summer light. She isn’t too keen on cars in general, but she knows a solid make and model when she sees one.

“What do you plan on even doing with this thing? Can’t you just apparate?”

James sighs and shakes his head like he would re-explaining a simple charm to a first year.

“It’s a gift for Sirius—ever since we watched Easy Rider he’s been itching for one.”

So it’s her fault. At the time it had been cute how Sirius’ eyes turned wide like a child watching Dennis Hopper hallucinate his way through America, but now she hopes the motorcycle is the only takeaway the boys had globbed on to. She makes a mental note: Don’t show them movies with remotely bad ideas.

James sneaks up on her while she is lost in thought, grabbing around her stomach and pulling her against him. His lips are at her ear, grazing gently against the crest.

“It would be really sexy you know—you and me all greasy, getting the bike all fixed up in the hot sun. Maybe we could take a break down by the pond? I can wash you off with my—”

“Are you serious? You think you are going to seduce me into helping you?”

She feels him wiggle his hips against her. “Is it working?”

She pushes him off. Taking one last wary look at the bike before trudging up the lane towards the Potter Mansion, James following at her heels.

“Lily, wait—how about we talk about this, you know, outside and away from the house.”

Lily reads between the lines: his parents don’t know.

She walks through the front door and into the brightly lit sitting room. The large bay windows shine down on various exotic plants lining the bookshelves around where Euphemia sits, flipping through a muggle manuscript while a quill scratches various notes on a pad next to her.

“Oh Lily dear, James said you might drop by,” Euphemia stands, ruffling her long, unruly black hair that curtains her face like a thunder cloud. “Glad he is letting you see more of the house than just his bedroom for once.”

She makes a taunting side-eye at her son who is now sporting rosy cheekbones.

“Lovely to see you Mrs. Potter.”

“--Please, Ephie, dear,” Euphemia tuts.

“..Right, sorry. Uhm–” Lily cuts herself off. With the momentum of her annoyance now gone, she begins to have second thoughts on narcing on her boyfriend, feeling a little too much like a child tattling on the playground. But Euphamia is no novice, lifting an eyebrow she jumps her gaze between the couple in mild interest.

“Oh good. So what did he do this time, hm?” Euphemia sits back down, grabbing a glass of red liquid off the shelf and taking a sip. “You know, I’m very happy to have another voice of reason around this household—poor Remus was needing a holiday.”

Lily glances back at a frowning James, tilting her head in concession.

“Well, I don’t know how but James got hold of a muggle motorbike–”

Euphemia doesn’t look up from her book, flipping a page. “Motorbike? Like motorcycle?”

“Yes, it's the same thing actually.”

“Yes dear, I know—that doesn’t happen to be the motorcycle the ministry had me confiscate from that American bloke with the sex cult does it, James?”

Lily whips her head around. Fear has been replaced on James’ features with something else, something more knowing and wile. Oh my god he’s going to get away with this.

“Er, if I’m not mistaken he was a sex magic leader not cultist—but yes, I thought I could charm it to fly as a gift for Sirius.”

His mother looks up at him, lips pursed in amusement. It’s a look that Lily is still getting used to seeing on someone else’s features. It’s nearly identical to James’ when he is plotting something.

“Ah, how exciting. Parsons would have loved that for his beloved bike—Merlin rest his soul—bet I have his partner’s contact information around here...she’s absolutely raging mad you know, but would get a kick out of hearing the bike is getting a magical use…”

Lily stares slack jawed as Euphemia starts rummaging through her desk drawer, pulling out a contact card holder and having it flip on its own.

“Wait, I’m sorry, you can’t be serious.” LIly sputters out, trying to ignore the smug look now plastered to her boyfriend’s face.

“Oh no, don’t worry. Marjorie might be a muggle but she’s been in the know for decades—even rumored to have shagged Hector Fawley when he was Minister…absolutely wild what politicians can get away with—”

Lily is at a loss for words. With Euphemia now deep in her own rabbit hole, she turns back to James, finding him triumphant if not glowing.

“I don’t know what I expected—your whole lot is absolutely mad,” she mutters. James barks out a laugh and pulls her into an embrace, dusting his fingers under her ribs for good measure.

“See what you get to look forward to if we get married?”

Lily groans into his shirt. “The key word being if.”

“Take it back.” James leans in and kisses her temple, then tilts her head up to continue down her cheek until he reaches her lips, making the presence of his mum feel hazy and distant.

“Oh, Lily dear,” Euphemia pulls them both back like a sudden snap of a band, “Before my son gets too ahead of himself with teenage lust, would you be a dear and double check his charm work on the bike when he’s done? Magical or not, those things are dangerous little buggers—”

#jilytober fest 2024 #jilytober #james potter #lily evans #euphemia potter #the potter family #jily fanfiction #yallthemwitches #jily

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feebisart · 1 month ago

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The Door You Don't Knock On (3/4)

(( Trigger Warning: Unreality, Transformation, Body Horror, Derealization, Dissociation, Hints of Past Abuse, Drowning, Death, Existential Horror, Emotional Manipulation, Mental Health Struggles, Surreal/Disturbing Imagery, References to Violence, Grief/Loss. ))

A/N: Please keep in mind the trigger warnings. Thank you.

Billy opened his blue eyes, reflecting the stars and galaxies squished into streams of Saturn's spinning disk. He blinked a couple of times, rubbing at the sleep with the back of his hand.

"Oh." He uttered as he gazed into the surreal sky.

Gingerly, he pushed himself up, feeling the pleasant heat of the couch beneath him. He gave the sofa a soft pat—a habit of thanking inanimate objects. Around him, a haze of heat gently rested over a fiery sea, furniture bobbing leisurely throughout the molten tide as tubes drifted down a waterpark's lazy river.

Peering over the side of the comfortable couch, Billy hesitated before dropping onto a stone slab atop the vibrant sand. Multicolored grains shifted beneath the piece as the foot met pavement. It was, of course, a migraine to look at. However, it wasn't lava. He won't look a gift horse in the mouth, after all.

A giggle bubbled out of his mouth, surprising the young boy. The silliness of it all—the marshmallow-soft cushions and the flaming ocean provided the backdrop to his amusement. Billy had slept on dozens of surfaces before—hardwood floors, tile, rock, and even the branches of trees. Now, he could add roasted marshmallow cushions to that list.

In the distance, the molten rock hissed as if affronted by his laughter. The gurgling mass of creeping lava spewed spectral radiant mist that drizzled glitter over the coast around him. The grains collided with a soft yet strangely metallic sound as the mist met the sand. Curious, Billy crouched closer and spotted a glint amid the chromatic, iridescent particles. The sand wasn't just sand—it morphed between tiny sand crystals and larger metallic jacks.

"That's so weird." He muttered as he brushed some ashes off his sweater. Stretching his back, he surveyed the area. Marble slabs scattered across the sand like lily pads floating across a pond.

Did anyone say Leapfrog?

Billy grinned from ear to ear, leaping from slab to slab like a child playing hopscotch, waving his arms to balance himself with each jump. Nearing the end of the path, he teetered on one foot, almost stepping into the sand before catching himself on the rock's edge.

A large gap loomed before him, filled with kaleidoscopic minerals torn between quartz crystals and knucklebones. A faint cling reverberated as a breeze brushed past. Wind chimes as it weaves through colliding metal scraps or, perhaps, mocking laughter.

Beyond him unfurled a black-and-white checkered pattern floor. The boy drew in a deep breath before launching himself across. He landed and slid onto the sleek, slippery floor, emitting a harsh squeal—grating rubber squeaking onto a slick glass surface.

Flapping his arms with a hint of desperation, he glided to a halt in the middle of an elegant hallway, gasping for breath. Doors were lined in uniform repeating patterns along the hallways, and their handles were in particularly unique places—some were far too high, some were two inches from the floor, and some were just floating in the air—just out of reach. Billy blinked, wondering where he should go next.

The tingling crept around Billy's shoulders, wrapped around the boy's shoulders like a white cloak. A faint, high-pitched ringing stalked him—a persistent mosquito honing into the sting. He had thought the further he walked from the sand, the fainter the sound would get. But apparently not. The hallways seemed to turn and twist sideways, looping into themselves in a never-ending Moebius strip. Every turn he'd been there before, every step left a resounding echo.

The ringing amplified, adding the soprano of screeching feedback, the base of discordant laughter, and rhythmic faint taunts using distorted versions of Billy's voice. It wasn't just his ears but also his taste. Every time his voice screamed into his ear, he tasted the stinging, metallic flavor, tasting the noise itself. An earworm that wouldn't leave gnawed at his thoughts, a continuous spiraling loop. Billy knew plenty of earworms—songs that wormed their way into your brain, settling comfortably to never leave, much like Mister-

No, Billy shook his head quickly, cutting off the thought. He needed to find what It Is Not. The boy could not afford to Spiral. He pinched the bridges of his nose as it howled into his ear, dropping all pretense of subtlety. There was no doubt in his mind—It was getting impatient.

Perhaps in annoyance or wanting it all to stop, he grabbed the nearest door handle and pulled it without thinking. His pale fingers curled tightly around the handle, and with a swift, violent force, he yanked the door open. The panel slammed against the wall, and chips of wood fell onto the ground from the pure force. Static surged into a deafening disharmonious crescendo, an ice pick to the head regarding ear-splitting notes.

All of a sudden, nothing.

The door sealed shut behind him, hissing shut with finality in the form of air decompressing from a pressurized chamber. A faint rush of air brushed against his back before all was still. He concentrated on hearing the ringing, which was still there—faint, in the background, waiting.

The room was quite ordinary, if a bit cluttered. Art Deco flair seeped into the gold and black orchid wallpaper, sleek and aerodynamic furniture, and black and white tiles with gold accents. There was a hint of paint and wood shavings in the air. Open and empty cans of paint scattered across the floor. Baskets and containers of pencils, pens, markers, and chalk were piled on each other. Blank Canvases were scattered around the room with palettes of every imaginable color. Brushes were placed at each art stand, overflowing the holder.

It was overwhelming—every medium of art stacked on each other in a gaudy display of choices. He could see perhaps a faded yellow couch propped up by a couple of sketchbooks, but it was dwarfed by the mountain of yarn balls on top of it. Despite the hodgepodge, there was something quite familiar about the place, a sense of déjà vu that piqued Billy's curiosity.

Billy placed his hands on his hips, clicking his tongue as if affronted by the mess before him. He rolled up the sleeves of his sweater, using a piece of yarn he chewed off to tie it up. (He would not look for sharp items in that Mess.) He heaved up a heavy bin of rolled newspapers, nudging an open can of reddish-brown paint aside with his foot as he gasped for breath.

At least, it was silent.

Billy huffed, hands on his hips before he dived into piles of art supplies. He disliked too much mess since it made it hard to think. There was so much stuff—baskets of watercolors, buckets of oil paints, tubes of acrylics, and towers of jars filled with miscellaneous supplies. He began separating the chaos into categories, which made his brain happy—drawing, painting, fabric, knitting, etc.

As he's moving a metal tin of colored pencils, his gaze caught onto something strange: a pair of pointed shoes, brown cap-toe oxfords, still polished with a gleaming sheen. As he moved away a bucket of unopened paint, his breath caught in his throat as he discerned the pant leg of a familiar brown suit.

"It can't be." Billy's voice hitched. "Mr. Dare…"

Dan Dare. The detective.

His stomach sank as he hurriedly clawed into the clutter, his trembling hands scraping against metal tins. Boxes of chalk toppled, spilling pink dust into the air. Bins of sketchbooks teetered precariously—a makeshift Tower of Pisa, while buckets of crayons were knocked over, a few loose crayons tumbling around. Billy's desperate cleaning halted; his breath hitched as he stilled at the sight.

A chair.

It looked normal enough—the sleek, glossy finish of the Beech arms and the soft, supple, genuine leather for the cushion. But the form? Following the curve of the backrest, the cushion flowed into a lower torso with a pair of legs clad in brown pants underneath. They were human. They were Dan.

Where flesh met wood, there wasn't a neat seam or clean cut of timber, but a continuous languid flow. Veins snaked through the beech wood and flawlessly transitioned to the chair's grain in the arms above. The lungs were absent, yet the lower part of the torso continued to inflate as if breathing.

Billy's gaze drew to the legs that twitched ever so often. Feet that stretched and relaxed as if leisurely resting on the ground.

Is this what it means to Become It?

This was not just horror nor the grotesque. This was the annihilation of everything that you are—a complete and total erasure of identity, and for what? To turn you into a tacky chair.

He realized a pivotal point—the Spiral was no longer playing with its food.

In fact, it was Hungry.

What if I stop being me?

Billy choked on inhaling his next breath. His heart fluttered like a hummingbird's wings as he clutched his chest. The Lichtenberg scars underneath his sweater pulled and ached as black crept along the edge of his vision.

The world tilted—skewed and slanted.

Billy's chest tightened further, and he thought his heart would crush his chest with the weight of Everything.

This wasn't about him.

He inhaled a deep, painful breath.

He breathed again to solidify himself, the darkness receded as he took continuous deep breaths in and out.

Back before his job at Whiz Radio, He remembered Mr. Dare.

Blonde, slick-back hair, a sunny smile, and an ear to listen to. "Do you have any allergies, kid?" The man warmly asked, handing Billy a brown paper bag from a sandwich shop. The smell of Cuban cigars and Hawaiian roast on his breath lingered in the cool, wintry air.

It's not fair.

He hadn't seen Dan for a couple of weeks. The kid figured Detective Dare was off helping TV moguls or multimillionaires. Not this.

Never this.

Crouching over Dan with his knees on the floor, the boy's hand wavered over the brown pants leg, hesitating over the fabric. Yanking his hand away, He placed it on his lap.

Billy's voice cracked as he crouched over Dan Dare, "Mr. Dare, I- I don't know if you can hear me, but you were a good person." His fingers scrunched up his jeans, balling into fists.

"I'm sorry you got turned into... this." A quick glance at the leather cushions wrapped between brown beech wood lurched the orphan's stomach. He reverted his gaze to the human part—the familiar half.

"You were a great detective. I'm glad I got to interview you." The small reporter sniffed, remembering the man's animated tales of intrigue, stakeouts, and close calls with Carol over Whiz Kid radio.

"It doesn't get to take that away from you." The boy wiped his eyes. "I'll remember you and make sure Fawcett remembers you, too."

At first, staring at the chair made him disgusted; nausea rose to his throat, threatening to empty into a paint can. But he pulled back; the disgust simmered and bubbled within him into something else—something hot and sharp. A spark ignited within him.

Was this funny? Did it make the Distortion tickled pink from warping Dan Dare to this?

The boy's gaze flicked to where the spray paint cans scattered near Dan's legs. "Fine," he spat, throwing the cap off as it bounced off an elegant black and gold orchid on the wallpaper. "Let's see how you like it." The spray can hissed out a streak of neon yellow across the flower and several phrases such as "STUPID" and "UGLY" right on top of a particularly offensive spiral.

He held the can out as he punted the aerosol container and jettisoned it into the sky with his foot. Anger burned deep within his stomach, churning a whirlwind of anger, grief, and something Else—something that Distorted. The tinkling of bells echoed in his ears, a constant ringing after a concert.

His hair grew longer, dangling over his face in tangled loops as he heaved a couple of breaths.

Shifting his eyes to the left, he glimpsed a hint of black amongst the plastic containers. The ringing sounded like pulsating beats of his heart with every step. Billy grabbed the box, flipping it open to reveal perfectly intact charcoal sticks.

His heart thundered as he held a handful of them to his eye.

The sight of it irritated him for some reason he couldn't explain. Charcoal—dust and ash, all left of a cloudless blue sky.

He crushed the charcoal sticks in his hands, his nails digging in deep. Black dust etched into every crease and line of his palms, leaving dark stains on his skin.

Suddenly, his eyes teared up. He wiped his eyes with his knuckles, only making it worse—staining charcoal smudging into his eyes, a blindfold of stinging tears and ashes. Blue and black melded and flowed as if a thumb coated with soot ran across the eyes of a watercolor painting.

Swaying across the room, Billy's dangling arms knock over paint cans and water cups as they absorb into the boy's fluid structure. His hair drips down a waterfall of purple, blue, and yellow pigments. His heartbeat takes on multiple tones as if played over a speaker underwater—muted, warbled, and barely recognizable.

He can't see. He can't see. He can't-

The high note and screeching tingling that hits his ears has his hands brush over a basket. It was powdery, smooth, and circular. Chalk. Where there were colors and almost overwhelming imagery, there was nothing but darkness. Red and yellow dripped over him as a cape, and he felt crushed by the immense pressure.

The lack of control over his body and form was too much. He retaliated the only way he knew how. He flipped the basket.

It erupted. Pounding, migraine-inducing bass vibrating the very ground, the facsimile of a boy stood. Reddish-brown powder and chalk dust reached the ceiling, unfurling into the shape of a mushroom with an expanding ring of dust and debris that rippled outwards; pieces of crayons and pencils rolled away from the epicenter—ripping his life into pieces.

Strangely enough, he sees with touch. Sensing the colors and shape, the liquid seeped into the pile, bringing up a floating piece of equipment. A microphone was connected to a wooden broadcast console. He wrapped a tendril of water around it, bringing the mic up the last recognizable part of his body—his mouth. He could feel that water was entering his lungs, making it hard to breathe. He was drowning in his own liquid.

He opened his mouth and uttered, "SHA-"

The lips hesitated, closing as if swallowing.

"Go on, finish it." The smug, gloating voice whispered in a sing-song tone reminiscent of a lullaby.

It was inevitable.

The mouth took one last breath and exhaled a word.

"No."

The static rose to a crescendo; it could feel the vibrations coursing through everything, inside and out. An earthquake shaking the very foundation of being. Baskets of arts and crafts tumbled and tossed in a salad, a blender ripping into every sense and meaning.

The water crashed, overturning the mouth, melding it to its giant amorphous fluid. There was no mouth, not anymore.

The shaking gradually ceased, and a stray chalk fell to the ground near the puddle of water within a bucket—streaks of watercolors, paint, marker, and ink swirled.

The Distortion waited for it to finally digest.

It thought it was erasing him, turning him into a fluid to easily digest.

Water can't be erased.

It adapts. It endures. It Becomes.

Transformation was nothing new to him. From street rat to Demigod, from kid to adult, and from life to death—he had faced change, and every change was a journey he would take—a responsibility he would shoulder.

He took a hypothetical breath.

Five things to see. The sense of vision was curious when it was seen through taste. The painted water flowed through the remnants, seeing the flavors amidst the entropic landscape— salty ink pooled into itself as it absorbed, gaining mass; sour paint flowed into thin, vibrant streams, sweet markers bleeding onto canvases; bitter oils floated on the surface, creating an iridescent sheen, and savory, metallic flavor of the colorful mist from a dented spray can. Four things to feel. The gurgling flow of water filling up a container, the drops of water dripping down onto the canvas below, the chaotic splash of the overflow, and the plop of liquid mass pooling onto a fractured ground. Three things to listen to. The plastic aroma of a fresh coat of acrylic as the water rippled, the harsh, sharp odor of spray paint gases mixed into the atmosphere, and the sweet, musty smell of watercolors spilled across a table. Two things to smell. The coolness of the slick surface, the roughness of the jagged edges of broken tiles. The water seeped through the cracks to pool near a slanted tile. One thing to taste. A yellow chalk teetered on a precarious edge of the ground, as water wrapped around it, the rushing force bringing it to the tile.

The Distortion watched as a child would drown an ant in a puddle it created—its fragmenting, twisted body filled with ever-changing fractals and shapes loomed over the body of water.

A chiming, crackling laughter escaped its body, glass shattering from the ocean's depths. The sound echoed, a sharp, discordant symphony of cruelty.

The sound reverberated through Billy. He may not have been able to hear it, but he felt it in his very being. It was a grating, uncomfortable feeling that rippled through his waters.

Still, he awkwardly fumbled a stray chalk to swirl in a faded-yellow spiral.

"Go on," it crooned sweetly, smug with indulgent malice. "Try your best."

The spiral began to take shape on the black tile under his makeshift, fluid-like hand. With each wave, he etched more of the spiral until it was recognizable.

He pushed against the tile with every lapping wave until it stood upright. Vertical with its spiral, menacingly observing the water before it.

He was not going to go through it.

He was going over it.

Expanding his mind, he concentrated on each piece of water. It was like peering around only Not. He could vaguely feel specks of warmth scattered around, or perhaps he tasted their colors.

Stray droplets leaned against the edges of the scrambled room before, fragments of color scattered about the surface. The leaning tower of sketchbooks stood proudly, having survived the tempest of the Distortion's anger.

Erosion.

At the base, a precarious point lay in wait in this game of Janga. All it would take was one move and the entire structure would come tumbling down.

And that was precisely what Billy needed.

The waves lapped at the tower's base, testing it as a school of piranhas circling their prey might.

Water crashed into the structure, prodding at one of the books. It wiggled, teasing the sketchbook loose from the stack with its alternating crest and troughs.

Soggy pages curled up in the edges, torn off by the constant ebb and flow. Water absorbed into the pages, smearing the black ink into a gray shadow.

It Is Not What It Is laughed, mocking the boy's efforts—a discordant melody of metal scraping onto cherry petals.

It only took one slip—a push against a particularly slippery journal binding, and the cracks propagated throughout. It started to sway like a skyscraper in the first tremors of an earthquake—sketchbooks and journals fell like a sudden deluge.

Pyroclastic flows of ripped pages and book bindings descended upon the water, creating deep amplitudes and displacing water in violent shifts.

The distance between the waves stretched further, rippling outwards.

As the crest approached the shallower water, the seabed of paint tubes and crayons slowed the approaching wave—faster water flows and built the wave higher and higher.

Then, the water began receding from the tile. Static churned in the air—a pressure drop and the oncoming storm's sharp, metallic scent.

Red tubes of paint lay scattered like uncovered seashells. Broken paint brushes stuck out of the glittering sand, drenched seaweed poking out. Interference intensified to howling winds through a tunnel.

Suddenly, a prominent crest rushed towards the black slate in a whirlwind of multicolored water. Billy's consciousness was on top of the wave's crest, surfing right on top, perched in the fierce, foaming waves. The Distorted, fractured form grew darker, tasting of soot and ozone.

As he neared the tile, Billy leaped over the upper border, soaring over the bar with droplets glinting like pearls. Fractals overhead roared in thunderstorms, and streams of yarn dangled like string cheese.

Like the bar of a long jump,

Billy felt absolute elation as he made it past the surface,

mere inches from the top.

The skim of liquid fell towards cracks and through the broken foundation before the roaring water broke the tile with the force.

A scream pierced through the air, amplified through the water, blood-curdling absent of the Distortion's nauseating imagery.

It was deeply human.

Desperate, almost.

Billy slipped through the gaps in the foundation, falling into darkness. Heat wrapped around him like a suffocating blanket. Droplets of water hissed as they evaporated, glistening like diamonds. They formed rivulets in the sky—blue, red, violet, and orange rivers.

The water that made up his current form began to foam and boil. Steam rose, transforming into trails of light behind him, like the tail of a comet. Above, the checkered sky framed his descent, starkly contrasting the flowing colors.

As he fell, the boiling water left behind dried remnants of color: red, black, white, yellow, and blue. Slowly, his form simplified, reducing into a watercolor figure. He tumbled through a surreal animation, flipping between frames of black-and-white paper.

The small orphan stretched out his arms, desperate to gain control over the rapid tumble. He slowed, his vision sharpening on a distant sphere—black or white, an inverse of the background behind him.

It wasn’t just a sphere. It was a hole. And he was falling straight into it.

As he drew closer, the sphere grew, consuming the entire frame. Now a speck against its vastness, Billy could feel time slipping away. It moved strangely, bending and warping in ways even the performative chaos of the Spiral couldn't achieve. Wonkier than anything he’d ever felt, not even the peculiar doors of The Rock of Eternity compared.

He tried everything to stop himself. Jumping, swimming, kicking, flying, running—none of it mattered. The pull was relentless.

The numbness began in his legs, spreading upward as they sank into the abyss. Then his stomach, his heart, until the darkness swallowed his eyes. It devoured his memories, form, and every piece of what made him him.

And then—

Nothing.

︵‿︵‿୨𖦹୧‿︵‿︵

Prev || Next

#billy batson #shazam #dc #dc captain marvel #captain marvel #dc comics #dc shazam #dc universe #tma #dc x tma #tma spiral #tma distortion #the distortion

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 1 year ago

Note

Hi!!

I'm so excited for this event - I love seeing your writing, and this theme is so cute!!

For my request, may I suggest the combination of Jade with prompt 8 ("by the babbling brook"), and the emojis 🖌,🤝 and/or 🍵?

Best of luck (and have fun!) with your writing!!

*.ﾟ+ヽ(○^▽^○)ﾉﾞ +.ﾟ*

By the Babbling Brook; Jade Leech

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, I allude to romance but you get to choose your ending ;)

Word Count; 700+

AN; The first of three Jade requests. I have no idea where all the Jade kissers came from, but I'm THRILLED to see it. Hope you enjoy your request! As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

It was a pleasant day, both in the weather — being not too hot, with a gentle breeze and fluffy white clouds dotting the sky — and in today’s activities. It was picturesque. For you see, you spent the majority of your day painting plein air by a quaint brook. You don’t really know what compelled you to grab the easel, brushes, and most likely expired paint that was just collecting dust in some random closet in Ramshackle, but you didn’t regret it. It was nice, just sitting under the shade of an aging birch tree and painting the scene in front of you. Just you, the sounds of nature, the gentle warmth of the sun, and your paints and easel.

Well, it was just you for the majority of the day. Seems like someone else had a similar idea.

“Prefect,” a familiar voice called behind you, “this is quite a pleasant surprise. I was not expecting to see you here.”

Looking behind you, you saw none other than Jade Leech carrying a wicker basket partially filled with mushrooms and a thermos bag slung across his chest. “Jade? I could say the same about you.” You would have thought that he would spend his summer in the sea with his family, but the mer-eel was very much still on land. At least for today, judging from his rather decent fungi haul.

Jade let out a soft chuckle and chose to ignore the rather large chaga growth on the birch tree in favour of enjoying your company. He could always get it later, your company was far greater worth to him than the fungus anyhow. “I enjoy stretching my legs every so often, plus it serves as an opportunity to explore new places and-”

“Was Floyd getting on your nerves,” you ask, closing the cap on the paint you were using.

A small smile graced his face, and his eyes glimmered. “Hmm, perhaps. Why are you here, Prefect? May I see what you’re painting?”

He leaned over your shoulder and inspected your work. He was so close that you could smell sea salt, the earthy smell of mushrooms, and the scent of matcha. He hummed to himself and stepped out of your personal bubble, giving you a nod. “A rather lovely piece.”

You blinked, “Thank you.” And then you remembered his question. “Wanted to get out, get some fresh air. It is a lovely day, after all, would be a shame to spend it cooped up inside… Would you like to walk for a bit?”

Jade raised a brow, “Fair enough. And where to?” He looked at you with curious eyes, waiting for your answer.

“Wherever we please,” you answer. Painting could wait for later. “We can see where the brook brings us.”

So the two of you walked together beside the brook, an easy quiet with each other. But it was comfortable, and you knew that he would share eventually, so you felt no need to push or fill the air with awkward attempts at small talk. Until you reached a steep hill in which the brook ran under, eroding the soil to form an underground system.

Jade offered you his hand, “Looks like it ends just on the other side.” He looked back at you expectantly, his hand still outreached.

You grabbed it, and Jade helped the both of you get up the steep embankment. Upon reaching the top you saw a small pond, full of water lilies and looking like it was plucked out of a Claude Monet painting. The very setting of a fairy tale.

“Wow,” you breathed out and looked back to Jade.

But Jade wasn’t looking at the quaint pond, he was giving you a soft look instead. “I take it you’re happy with how this trip unfolded.”

You were still holding hands, but neither of you made any move to separate them. Screw it, you don’t get this chance every day. Take your shot! And you brought Jade’s hand to your lips, placing a kiss to his knuckles. You had wanted to do that small, yet world-shifting, action for what felt like forever, and so, you took it. “Beyond happy.”

His eyes widened before he let out a soft breath of air, bringing your hand up and placing a kiss on your wrist. “That’s wonderful… you’re wonderful.”

“You’re wonderful too, Jade.”

#dove does events #100 follower event #twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #jade leech x gn reader #even if you aren't the best painter; jade still thinks your work is beautiful #also decided to give him one of those thermos slings cuz yeah; his thermos is filled with matcha hence why he smells of it #KISS HIS HAND HE WOULD BE SO OFF GUARD AND SURPRISED #i am completely normal about octavinelle <- LIES #love seeing the jade kissers show up #I WILL FEED YOU #krenenbaker!#also EVERYONE IS SUPER NICE WHEN REQUESTING MY HEART-#also glad that everyone thinks the theme for this event is cute #wanted to do something 1) summer themed 2) nostaglic and 3) i want summer to end cuz it's hot as hell #enjoy the tag easter eggs

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petals2fish · 6 months ago

Text

Read on A03

Lily Evans had spent half the day at the park trying to study her uni notes but no matter how hard she tried, she got distracted. It was the start of term and she was already dreading it. That couldn't be healthy.

It was autumn so the leaves were all brilliant colours. Lily marveled at every single pretty red, gold, or orange leaf that drifted from the branches that she sat under. Lily stopped studying to grab a coffee down the street from a local cafe. Lily drew in the margins of her notes: stars and swirls mixing into her small handwriting. Lily even sat for an hour on her stomach, building leaf houses with leaves and sticks.

Quite frankly, she wasn't really studying.

Leaning back onto her elbows she spotted a large black dog wandering around the park. It looked well taken care of and Lily imagined the dog belonged to the couple sitting at a park bench at the end of the park. The black dog was having a grande old time.

Lily watched with a smile creeping onto her face as the dog bounded after small mammals, birds, and drank from the small pond not to far from where she sat. It was running around gaily, like it had not a care in the world. Lily giggled when it started smelling the leaves and rolling in them.

Lily went back to her notes, highlighting a few words and glancing back up. The couple had left the park but they hadn't taken the dog. A few lines of worry crossed Lily's brow. The large black dog was now panting not far from where Lily sat under the trees. It was looking around the park jovially–not seeming bothered that the couple had left.

"Odd," Lily murmured, standing up and adjusting her jumper.

The dog saw her moving and it's ears perked up, eyes frozen on Lily's cautiously moving form.

"Hello," Lily called warmly to the animal.

The dog tilted it's head.

"Who do you belong to?" Lily asked it, grinning and holding out her fingers for the dog to sniff as she approached slowly.

The dog sniffed her fingers lazily before flopping onto it's back and wagging it's tail. Lily chuckled and got onto her knees to rub the dog's stomach. Once she had gained the trust of the animal she quickly reached up to grab a silver and black collar hanging around it's neck.

The silver name tag was in the shape of a star and it said the animal was called Padfoot. Lily felt her lips quirk up. What an odd name for an animal.

"Padfoot."

The dog grumbled happily from beneath her hands. Padfoot then began licking her face gratefully and she laughed, pushing the dog from her lap. Padfoot didn't take well to that and put his paws on her shoulders, lapping her entire face enthusiastically.

"Oi!" A voice shouted irritably from somewhere behind them.

Padfoot dropped from Lily's body like he'd been shot. Lily stood up and whirled around in accusation at the yelling person. Padfoot slunk behind Lily's heels to hide form the approaching man. Lily noted the man was about her age and he had on a hoodie from the same Uni she went to. Lily reached back to touch Padfoot's head in support as the man came over to them, red in the face.

"Come here!" The man swept around Lily to try and grab the dog roughly.

Lily grabbed the man's hand before he could grab Padfoot. "Excuse you!"

The man actually glanced up at her with an annoyed face and then he actually looked at her. They stared at each other a few moments and Lily saw he had a kind face–despite his yelling. She admired his hazel eyes behind thick rimmed glasses and noted his bag that was slung over his shoulder was slightly open showing english books.

"Hello." The black haired man muttered, hand shooing right up to his already messy hair. “Thanks for finding my dog–he's a bloody–anyways I'll just–" The boy tried to grab the dog again but Lily blocked him and crossed her arms.

"How do I know this is your dog?" She mused thoughtfully.

The boy scratched his head. “Er…his name is Padfoot and he's my dog?"

"How do I know you aren't trying to steal him?" Lily asked, "the dog has been here all afternoon. You could've read his tag. How do I know you own him? How did you not notice your dog was missing?"

A flash of annoyance crossed the face of the man, "Well, yeah, that'd be because the git managed to open the locks on my front door when I was at class. Decided to take himself for a walk." Hazel eyes glared down at the dog who was slinking out of reach behind Lily's protection.

Lily stood her ground, "Until I see identification, I won't let you take him anywhere."

Instead of placing accusing eyes on Lily the boy glared at the dog and muttered, "you planned this somehow, you rotten git."

Padfoot wagged his tail. Lily grabbed Padfoot's collar and started dragging the dog towards her notes and books. The man didn't even bother following her.

"I'll see you later then?" he called after her as Lily picked up her things and fed Padfoot some of her biscuit from earlier that day.

Lily stared at the boy incredulously, "what makes you say that?"

The man snorted, "because that's my dog and I'm going to need him back."

"Right." Lily answered doubtfully, patting her side, "come along Padfoot."

The dog happily trotted after Lily and they left the black haired man standing alone in the middle of the park. Lily saw out of the corner of her eye when the man raised his hands to his hair again–pulling at the roots.

"Traitor!" the man shouted after Padfoot who trotted alongside Lily, quite content, "you're sleeping outside for the rest of your life mutt!"

Lily sent the man a glare before dragging Padfoot along home with her. Lily passed the Pet Store on the way home and grabbed a leash and some food for the happy dog. The man at the Pet Store supplied Lily with the address to the pet shelter where she could get fliers to find Padfoot's real family.

it took Lily two days to get the fliers up and meanwhile, Padfoot remained happily at her flat. They went for walks every morning and every night. Lily took the dog with her everywhere because she was enjoying the company. Lily had always wanted a dog but she could never get any with her previous flat mates. Now that she lived alone it was nice to have a friend to sit and watch telly with.

On their third night together, Lily and Padfoot were bonding over pizza and ice cream on the couch when the doorbell rang. Giving Padfoot the crust to her pizza, Lily stood up and brushed back her red hair in surprise. It was later in the afternoon and she had been planning to just hang out with the dog. She didn't recall any of her mates offering to drop by.

Momentarily Lily wondered if Padfoot's owners had seen the flier. Opening her thick oak door a piece of paper was thrust into her face. Befuddled, Lily backed out of the doorway and a voice called cheerily.

"Hello, again."

Lily stared. it was the man from the park and he was wearing a button down shirt with his slacks. He looked older and more mature now as he waved a piece of paper in front of her face. The smile on his face was mischievous and his hazel eyes twinkled triumphantly.

"What are you doing here?" Lily demanded, glancing back behind her to make sure Padfoot was out of sight.

"Getting my dog." the man replied irritably, "Would you read the paper?"

Lily snatched the paper he kept waving in her face and read that it was an certification to a Mr. James Fleamont Potter from a breeder for a dog called–

"Padfoot." the words on her tongue were sheepish and she looked up at the man, James Potter, hesitantly, "Oh."

James potter crossed his arms over his chest and the grin of satisfaction was clear on his smug face, "So my dog, yeah?"

Embarrassed, Lily opened her door up wider and allowed the male to step into her hallway. James walked swiftly into her flat, looking around the the pictures and stopping at a particular one of Lily and her mate Mary at uni together.

"You know Mary McDonald?" he looked at her in surprise, "I play football with her."

Lily closed her front door and eyed the boy in surprise, "I've never seen you at matches."

"Likewise." he replied smoothly, but his hazel eyes were regarding her rather intensely behind his glasses.

"Er, so, your dog." Lily motioned him to come into the flat more, "I hope you don't mind but I've kind of been spoiling him–"

As she guided James into the room where she and Padfoot had been eating pizza and ice cream together a grin spread across James' face. Padfoot looked up from the couch where he had been finishing off another piece of pizza from the box Lily had left on the table. James turned back to Lily who was red in the face.

"Pizza and ice cream?"

"I know, I'm so sorry but I was–"

"At least not on a school night."

Lily stopped all her apologies and stared at James in shock at the words that had come out his mouth. James was grinning at her like he'd never even been mad that she took Padfoot from him in the first place. James shook his head like he was disappointed but his smile was still wide.

"Come on Evans, how am I going to get him home now?"

"I don't–" then she paused, "how did you know my name?"

James raised a suggestive eyebrow, "You did put out posters with your name printed on them."

Lily had no comeback. Where had this boy come from? More importantly Lily didn't like the way he kept making her blush with a simple smirk in her general direction. Lily watched as James took to the couch to hook a leash around Padfoot's collar. Enticing the big black dog with Pizza, James lured the Padfoot off the couch and back over to Lily.

"I'm happy he's got a family." Lily muttered, looking away from James, feeling butterflies in her stomach when his hand touched her shoulder.

"Thanks for caring for him." Lily glanced up at his soft tone and when their eyes connected his wicked smirk returned, "A bloke like me can certainly appreciate a girl who takes better care of his dog than he ever could."

Lily smiled and showed James to the door, leaning against the frame as he lured Padfoot outside into the cool autumn weather. Lily watched James take the dog away and sighed deeply. The flat already felt empty with Padfoot gone and Lily found herself trying to memorize the exact shape of the smirk on James' face.

She was just considering texting Mary and asking her for football match times when the phone in her pocket vibrated.

(029) 3214 7856: Same time next week? I'll bring the dog and pizza if you provide ur favorite ice cream xJP

A smile retraced it's way back across her features and she instantly started typing back a message.

Lily Evans: How'd you get my number?

James Potter: The same way I got your name

Lily Evans: Clever. Do you like chocolate or vanilla?

James Potter: Both

James Potter: BTW my football games are tuesdays and thursdays 6PM

Lily felt warmth flooding her every pore as she closed her front door and leaned against the oak, smiling down at her screen.

Perhaps this term wouldn't be as dreadful as she originally anticipated.

#jily #james potter #lily evans #jily fanfiction #jily fic #jple

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sunandflame · 1 year ago

Text

Shards of Glass, Chapter 4

Summary: Kyojuro Rengoku, History Teacher on the Kimetsu Academy, is constantly having strange dreams about a Slayer who looks exactly like him. He thinks nothing of it until he recognizes a very specific person from these dreams and feels a very unique connection to her.

Pairing: History Teacher Kyojuro x Teacher Fem!Reader

Trope: Reincarnation / Sequel to Flame and Water (can be stand-alone)

Word Count: 1664

Warning: slightly suggestive

Pinterest Board of Shards of Glass

Crossposted on AO3

Masterlist of Shards of Glass

He fished out the flower that was floating at the edge of the pond and placed it in her hair. "You are as beautiful and pure as this water lily..." His lips were close to her ears when he whispered his words, kissing her ear that brought up a soft giggle from her. She turned to him and his heart clenched at the beautiful sight of her. God, he loved her so much…

This time the awakening was gentler, the image before his eyes clearer. The beauty of Y/N was burned into his mind and he couldn't calm the pounding of his heart the more he thought about her. He was confused and didn't know what these dreams were trying to tell him. In the first week she started as an English teacher, all he saw in his dreams was her terrified face, which gave him no peace at night. He could not bear the thought that he might have hurt her. Seeing it over and over again made him avoid sleeping, letting him rely on coffee, which didn't really help.

It also didn't help that he barely saw her. He wanted to meet the woman who haunted his dreams or memories or whatever it was. The guilty conscience that he hadn't done it on the first day still plagued him, but yesterday everything had changed.

After the neverending week he had finally spoken to her and it went better than he thought it would. It was surprising how easy it was to talk to her and he liked her more than a normal amount. The connection he felt with her had been driving him crazy the whole time and the previous dream explained a lot too. “We were lovers…” He whispered to himself. He held his blushing face in his hands. The feeling of butterflies raging in his stomach from his dream were still very present. He wasn't sure if the feelings he felt were his own or those of his inherited memory. Were they even inherited memories? If so, then he was missing some big important parts of this story because nothing he saw actually made sense.

He sighed and was already on his way to the kitchen to get some breakfast since he was hungry, but that didn’t stop his thoughts. Was this perhaps a case of reincarnation? When he was writing his thesis, back in his student era, there was one time he had come across this topic but hadn’t paid much attention to it since it was not part of the work. Maybe he should have done that. He sighed. He would have to investigate the matter more thoroughly. There should be records of his ancestors at his parents’ place. Next time he visited, he would take a look at the Rengoku archives.

~ ~ ~

The blonde man tried to focus but had trouble because his eyes kept wandering over to Y/N. It didn't make it any easier that she was sitting right across from him and was therefore directly in his field of vision. Everything she did seemed incredibly familiar. The way she frowned slightly in concentration, or the way she pushed her hair behind her ear even though there wasn't a loose strand hanging. Things he had not yet seen in his dreams, but still seemed infinitely familiar to him. He tried hard to not let the feelings he had in his dreams take over in his real life. He didn't want to be influenced by something that happened in the past or in a dream, but how would that work? It was simply impossible not to surrender to her shy yet charming nature. Or the way she treated everyone around her with such kindness. Kyojuro had to admit to himself that he had fallen head over heels for the English teacher.

Suddenly a ball of paper hit him in the head and made him snap out of his thoughts. He looked for the one who was responsible for it and found him. Confused, over Shinazugawa's angry face he tried to interpret why he was angry again. He couldn't find an explanation and simply dismissed it. He was not looking at him anymore anyway. Kyojuro’s gaze moved back up to Y/N and then to Kocho who was sitting right next to her and then across to the math teacher who also seemed to be constantly staring in the same direction. Wait- Was he staring at Y/N too? Hot jealousy burned within him that he had never felt before in his life. An unexpected aggressiveness spread through his thoughts and he imagined himself hitting Shinazugawa. He was shocked immediately after the moment he realized what he was actually thinking. What was wrong with him?! Nothing like this had ever happened to him before, since he was not the jealous type. He had had relationships in the past, but he had never felt this way before.

He took a deep breath to calm himself down and stared at his papers so as not to let the traitorous feelings out.

"Finally done..." Y/N had just finished checking the exams of the students and stretched her arms. A relieved sigh escaped her, she finally had the whole weekend for herself and she was so looking forward to her bathtub where she would put on a clay mask, laze around and actually read a book and not the illegible notes of her students. She was excited to treat herself like this and cuddle afterwards with her cat Shimizu.

But she couldn't fully immerse herself in her dreams when suddenly two fuchsia colored eyes appeared in front of her. "Hey, pretty new colleague! We have a monthly drinking party with all the teachers today. You should come with us, since you are one of us now, and this way we can all get to know each other better!"

She blinked at him several times and was wondering if he just flirted with her but then she remembered how he usually was which relaxed her immediately. Her gaze wandered around to see if the others were also so enthusiastic about this idea. Obanai and Sanemi were caught up in a conversation.

Kanae gave her a friendly smile and nodded encouragingly. "Y/N, you should come. Our drinking parties are always very fun and that way we can all be friends." Friends... Yes, that was something she definitely needed.

"Yes, Y/N, come with us! The more the merrier!" Kyojuro's loud exclamation had thrown her off track and she looked back and forth between them before nodding finally in agreement.

~ ~ ~

It didn't take long for the orders to be placed. Y/N sat a little shyly between the big, but kindhearted Gyomei, and Giyuu. She knew that Giyuu wasn't the talkative type and you were surprised that he even had come along with them. But what Giyuu lacked in communication, Tengen provided in an amazing way. He talked about a lot of things and introduced all his colleagues to her again. They also seemed a little more relaxed now when they weren't fenced in by the school walls. The food came and everyone started to grab it when she suddenly noticed something. She looked at the blonde history teacher who was happily eating one plate after another. He seemed to have a religious experience with his soup filled with sweet potato, saying umai to himself as he sipped it.

Y/N was fascinated by it and forgot to touch her own plate while she watched him. He didn't let his mood be spoiled when some of his colleagues rolled their eyes in a bit of annoyance. No, he continued to eat and looked so happy as he mumbled with his mouth full how tasty it was. Y/N could see how some of the colleagues were face palming or smiling in a slight embarrassment. But her? She was so charmed by his cute behavior that she could do nothing other than testing her head on her hands and watched the whole situation with a delighted smile.

After dinner the sake was brought and she had to politely decline because she had come by car and driving drunk was out of the question for her. She noticed that Kyojuro wasn't drinking either.

“But how am I supposed to ask you embarrassing secrets when you don’t drink at all?” Tengen looked at her reproachfully, but she just laughed and poured him another cup.

She was having way too much fun here at the table and Giyuu next to her also seemed to be having fun as a smile was reflected on his lips. Maybe it was also because of the salmon with daikon he was eating messily, bits of the food stuck to his cheeks. “Well, for every bowl of sake you drink, you can ask me something embarrassing.” He already had several cups and was sure that he can’t drink much more so she should be safe.

“Bad idea. Uzui is able to hold one’s drink.”

She turned her head to Giyuu who was looking at her and knew that she would lose this competition. She wanted to step back, but the art teacher had already ordered more sake for the table and she knew that embarrassing questions were about to rain down on her.

She didn’t think Tengen could handle a bowl the size of a regular water glass, nevermind several of them, but he proved her wrong. He drank three whole bowls.

“Are you a virgin?”

“No,” Y/N blushed, choking on a bit of her food while forcing the answer as quick as she could out of her throat.

“Are you a dom, a sub, or a switch?” he asked shamelessly with a grin.

She covered her face, giving Tengen the opportunity to wink at Kyojuro. “I am not gonna answer that!”

“That’s okay, your reaction gave it away. Next question: Do you have a boyfriend?” he smirked mischievously.

“Yes.”

A/N: Oh, what have I done? *laughs maliciously* Also I hope some of you noticed the little reference to Flame and Water I put there. If you did, let me know in the replies ❤️

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mayajadewrites · 7 months ago

Text

could've been you - aizawa, hawks

✦ synopsis: You're the new teacher at UA with a rocky past with one of their beloved teachers, Shouta Aizawa aka Eraserhead. You'd rather never see him again but alas, such is life. You also meet Keigo, aka Hawks, who is the opposite of Aizawa. Smiley, golden retriever energy.

✦ chapter content warnings: none

✦ relationships: aizawa x fem!reader, hawks x fem!reader

chapter ten

ao3

TAG LIST:

@come-away-with-me87, @kxshdoll, @evilsanzu, @friendly-neighborhood-turtle, @lili-pond,

@the-unhinged-raccoon @falling4fandoms @cherry-cosmoz @kkgraham @big-denki-energy @aphrodite-xoxo @keiweeny @minminroie @skazewrld

You spent the rest of your Saturday with Shouta - planning out your collaborating class next week and what you want to test the kids on.

It's nice hanging out with Shouta. Even just as friends. It reminded you of high school, how you would hide behind the bleachers during class while the rest of the class ran laps. How Shouta would cover his ears if it was too loud around him, so you bought him ear plugs to help ease the pain he would get in his head.

Your legs laid along his couch, your ankles sitting on top of his lap as he traces shapes on your skin gently. You were both reading, so the room is silent. But you have never felt more comfortable.

"Shouta?" You look up from your book, watching the raven haired man with the tired eyes meet your gaze.

"Yes?"

"This is nice." You smiled, setting your book on your thighs.

"I agree." Shouta looked back at his book as he began to rub your foot gently with his large, callused hand.

"Have you ever wanted to, maybe, go out somewhere?"

He looked at you as if you were stupid. "You know I hate going out."

"You don't like dates?"

"I don't remember the last time I went on one. I usually just-" He stopped speaking to look at you. "I would just bring women home, but I haven't in a couple of years."

"You haven't had sex in years?"

"Shut up." Shouta squeezed your foot with his hand. "It's not as hard as it looks. Plus, I don't like using women for sex. It's much better when there's feeling behind it."

You could feel your cheeks flush red as you think about having sex with Aizawa. His strong arms locked around you, his cock pounding into you like he has all the time in the world to fuck you.

"Is sex meaningful to you? Or would you just fuck anyone?"

"I like it more when there's feelings, definitely."

"Well you fucked that bird, so I'm gonna go with the latter."

"Shouta!" You shoved him gently with your hand. "I did like him."

"Did? Feelings gone already?" His voice was smooth, pushing his fringe behind his ear.

"Once you've fucked me over, my feelings are gone. Usually."

"Usually, hm?" Shouta leaned in towards your face, his body invading your immediate space. "Someone's gotten a second chance?"

"Well he hasn't asked yet. So I guess not." You shrugged and brought your book closer to your face. Shouta pressed his index finger to the top of your book, pushing it down so he can see your face.

"This is me asking for a second chance, princess." Shouta almost whispered.

"You're usually mocking me when you call me princess. Do you really want a second chance?"

"You've always reminded me of a princess." He brought his index finger to the side of your face, caressing the outline of your cheeks and jaw. "Your big eyes, the way your hair is always so shiny." He hand ran through your hair. "Even when we were younger, I wasn't mocking you. I was just saying that so you wouldn't think I liked you."

"Sounds like you really liked me." You leaned into his touch, pressing your forehead onto his.

"Look in my head." Shouta looked at you.

"I don't want to use my quirk on you."

"I want you to look at the memory I'm thinking about. Please."

You sighed, focusing your energy on Shouta. You closed your eyes and moved your hands slowly, like you were reaching for his memory.

Soon enough you were inside his memory. You were both sat on the couch as you watched your surroundings.

"This is that coffee shop we went to when we first started as pro heroes." Your eyes were fixed on the Aizawa in your memory. He looked so much younger - the bags under his eyes not as deep as they are now.

"Look to your right." Shouta said to you, leaning back on the couch as he extends his arm behind you.

There you were.

You were ordering your coffee for you, Shouta, Enji, and Yamada. You looked so... happy.

You turn your attention back to the Aizawa in the memory, who was also staring at you.

You watched as Enji's mouth moved, but you couldn't quite hear him.

"You need to tell her how you feel." You finally heard Enji.

Your eyes went wide.

"She doesn't feel the same way, there's no point." Shouta turned away from you as you turned on your heel with the tray of coffees.

"You're such an idiot." Enji rolled his eyes.

"Our first coffees as pro heroes!" You smiled from ear to ear.

"Hell yeah!!" Yamada grabbed his coffee, pushing his cup in the air to meet yours. "Cheers to us!"

"Shouta, take your coffee and cheers with us. You too, Enji."

Enji had a sympathetic look on his face as he looked at Shouta. Like he knew how deep of feelings Shouta had for you.

Shouta watched every move you made, how your hips swayed as you sipped your coffee, something you often did when you had a sweet treat. How your hair fell beautifully on your shoulders, down your back almost to your ass.

You blinked, moving your hand in between the memory and reality, letting go of Aizawa's mind.

"Shouta. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to embarrass myself. I was sure you didn't like me, like that anyways."

You bring your knees to your chest, using your chin to lean on your kneecaps. "Funny, I thought the same about you up until you put me in a coma."

Aizawa turned his head down, almost like you cut him with a sharp knife.

You stared at him for a moment, hoping he would say something.

Anything.

"Will you go to dinner with me?" He finally spoke.

"You just said-"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

You ponder the question for a moment. You've wanted to see Shouta in a romantic setting for a long time. Where you both dress up, you put on your best makeup, and you could end the night in Shouta's arms.

"Tonight."

"It's 5PM."

"So you have 3 hours to get ready." You get up from the couch to slip your shoes on. "Pick me up at 8."

NEXT CHAPTER IS THE DATEEEEE HEHE

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