#Why is that old hag still breathing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugarlywhispers · 2 months ago

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b.katsuki x reader (fem) | prohero!bakugou x ex!reader (civilian)

a.n; HEAVY ANGST. PREPARE YOUSELVES TO CRY LIKE BABIES (like i did while writing this😭). Also, heavily inspired by this scene of a k-drama (LINK), but it doesn't follow the story of it or anything. I only used a little bit of the dialogue cuz 💔💔💔💔

02:01 a.m.

It's very late at night and Katsuki knows he shouldn’t be here. The moon is up in the night sky, shining bright, and the cold, winter wind would chill any other person’s bones. Yet he runs hot, so his level of cold is minimal; still, he wears his puff jacket, zipped up, and hands inside his pockets. The hoody over his head conceals his person a bit, yet it’s not necessary considering how cold it is no soul is wandering the streets. No sane person would willingly take a night walk in this weather.

Thanks to the old hag and dad for the quirk they give him, he literally is a walking human heater.

That’s what you used to call him.

Katsuki sighs, the air he breathes out creating a mist that evaporates quickly due to the weather. He knows for sure you’d be cold right now. He would never admit it out loud, but even though the cold made it a tiny bit hard for him to use his quirk to its full potential, he liked the cold thanks to you. Or well, he liked the fact that you would stick to his side and be all over him thanks to how warm he was.

Your own personal human heater, it’s what you mockingly called him, smiling as you hide your face in his neck, arms hugging his torso inside his opened jacket –the same one he’s currently wearing, that you gifted him for one of his birthdays. Your body would stick so close to his, like trying to become one with him. Bakugou Katsuki would never admit it out loud, but he loved that you did that. He loved that you were so small compared to him that you would practically disappear from view whenever his body shielded yours. He loved that your cold nose over the skin of his neck made him want to purr like some stupid cat, spreading tingles all over his body.

He loved that you used him for warmth when you were cold.

He loved you. He still fucking does. He loves you so fucking much it hurts.

And he knows you’re probably cold now.

And he’s not your human heater anymore. That hurts even more.

Katsuki sighs again, the vapor of his breath colliding with his face once again, as he stops in his tracks looking down at his shoes. He doesn’t need to look to know where he is. He has been taking this route on purpose for the last month.

He doesn’t know why he is doing this to himself. Maybe he is a fucking masochist who loves getting his heart beaten bloody and in pain. Yeah, maybe that’s it. Or maybe is because he still loves you and he couldn’t get you out of his head since Izuku shot him with the news.

You’re back. You're back in Japan. You even made your dream come true and opened a cozy coffee shop in the center of Tokyo, like you always wanted.

Katsuki had stayed. He stayed in Japan. He even made his own dream come true and became a successful pro hero, ranking number 2 –right behind Deku, but always competing with him for the first spot that goes up and down between the two. Like he always wanted.

You both got what you wanted. Except not all.

He doesn’t understand why he is here, in front of your little coffee shop crossing the street. Maybe he just wants a peek at you, a short glance at who you’ve become. Yet he knows. He knows you’re the freaking best. He knows you’re successful, you have always been fucking number one at everything you did. And your little business isn’t the exception. It is the talk of the city. He even saw a publicity of it on the TV yesterday. He had smiled proudly, thinking, “That’s my girl”. He had slapped his face in correction. You weren’t his anymore. He was not yours anymore. You two weren't together any-fucking-more.

Yet, here he is, yearning for a little glimpse of you like the air he needs to live.

It’s very late at night, it shouldn’t be even possible for you to be at the little shop at this hour. But if he knows you better, which he fucking does, he knows you’re there. Staying after hours to clean and let everything be prepped for the next day, like the overachiever little thing you are and always have been.

When Katsuki finally raises his head and looks, his eyes find you with ease. Your shop has glass walls, so it isn’t very difficult to distinguish where you are inside and what you’re doing. Your little form comes and goes around the empty shop, putting the last little Christmas decorations around. He chuckles, he was right, you’re still there. Figures.

He watches from a distance like he has been doing for the last month. He hadn’t run into you yet, considering his apartment is on the other side of the city –and fuck, yes, he has been avoiding patrols on this side where your coffee shop is. Call him a coward, he doesn’t fucking care. However, Izuku had bumped into you. He said you hugged him tightly, almost cried even, saying how much you have missed everyone. It made Katsuki wonder if he was included.

He snorts. Wouldn’t his wretched heart love that. Fucking masochist.

Katsuki watches you struggle a bit with an old ladder that you set right at the open door of the shop, clearly intending to climb it, decorations on your hands to put right over the frame. He frowns when you climb two steps and the ladder trembles. Fuck, you're fucking serious?? It’s pretty clear the thing is old enough to already be made barbecue fire. Why the hell do you have that thing?? After you’ve climbed almost half of it and still don’t reach the frame, the stupid ladder shaking like is about to fucking break under you, his worry said enough. His legs move fast, almost without will, but fully knowing you’re about to kiss the fucking floor thanks to that old ladder if he doesn’t move quickly.

When he gets closer, he hears the distinctive crack of wood and your small worried gasp as you fall. You never get to touch the floor, because Bakugou Katsuki is already there, catching you on time.

Your eyes find his, opened wide in surprise. The warmth you used to hold in them is still there, capturing him like a moth stuck in honey, and he feels like he can breathe again.

“Kat– Bakugou…” The almost slip of his name doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you, tinting your cheeks in a cute shade of pink. Ah, yes, the little sparks inside his being you produced every time you even looked at him are still there too. He thought he had already extinguished them. But no, they’re still there.

“H-hi,” he wanted his voice to sound more sure, more firm. Yet it sounded like his throat was dry and constricted. Like he was holding back a fucking cry –which is true.

His eyes are glued to yours, his arms hold you tight against his body as both your breathing go back to normal. He doesn’t want to be the first one to break with any contact, so he waits. He enjoys this little bubble that’s been created between you two after years of not knowing anything about each other. Of being so far away from each other that Katsuki felt for the first time the piercing cold everyone talks about in winter. It literally felt like years of winter for him. A cold and merciless winter that made his heartache burn. And now, a simple touch, a closeness of your body to his, and he feels like spring just bloomed again.

How fucking pathetic of him.

“Hi,” you finally answer back, your breath colliding with his face. He breathes it in, feeling like that is just all he needs to survive –at least for one more second. The shy smile that adorns your face makes him want to smother you in kisses all over your face like he used to do. But he can’t. He fucking can’t now.

“I… Thanks,” your beautiful smiling eyes make him want to punch his stomach so the damn butterflies stop fluttering.

“Your ladder was fucking old,” he complains, putting your feet back on the ground.

Your giggles sound like the symphony of heaven in Katsuki’s ears.

“I know, I shouldn’t have trusted it would help me at all.”

“You could have had a stupid accident, dumbass,” he squats to pick up the broken pieces of the ladder and what was left of it under your watch.

He doesn’t see the way you smile at him, but he hears you say, “Some things never change, huh?”

You’re right. His feelings for you would never change. And, fucking hell, he tried. He tried so hard not to feel anything for you all these years. Yet every mention of your name made him melt like a weak ass marshmallow in a hot chocolate drink. He even found himself daydreaming about seeing you, talking to you, touching you in any way you would let him.

Again, how fucking pathetic.

Bakugou Katsuki hasn’t stopped loving you since the day you parted ways.

It had been a mutual decision. He was very focused on his training and work to be a pro hero; lots of agencies wanted him to join. You were surrounded by options too, yet you decided to quit any hero dream you once had and chose to live a mundane, quiet life. That’s when Thirteen offered to speak of you to a colleague in the USA for a scholarship to join a cooking course. Katsuki saw your eyes shine lively, happy when you told him.

He knew then and there that you were going away from him. And he was not going to stop you. You had your dream, he had his. He was never going to make you choose between him and your dream. Because if he had to pick between you and his own, he would have picked his dream. Don’t misunderstand, he loved you, and still does, to death. But both of you were young, kids trying to find a path in the new world left after the war. Healing, failing, succeeding. Sometimes tripping down and getting back up. You were simply kids trying to understand life. Not that it has been any easier as adults, on the contrary. But now the circumstances are different. All of you have matured, gotten wise even. And it’s that same wisdom that made Katsuki not reach out to you again, despite his all-consuming feelings for you.

Bakugou Katsuki is now pro hero Dynamight, one of the most successful heroes of this generation. Which also means, he is a target most of the time. Villains hate him as much as he hates them.

Katsuki would cut his own hands himself if something ever happened to you, especially if it was because of him.

“Where do you want this trash?” He asks standing up and looking back at you. Your eyes shine, glassy and watering looking under the night lights. His chest tightens when he realizes you’re holding back tears. Fuck, he can’t look at you, or he’ll start fucking crying too.

“T-there’s… umm…” you clear your throat, trying to find your normal voice. “There’s a small closet at the back of the shop, on the left side. Just throw it there.”

Katsuki nods, entering the nice coffee shop and following your directions. This whole interaction is more than he expected, more than he hoped for. He has been watching you from afar, like a pathetic stalker. Avoiding to breathe in the same direction you did. Because of this.

The tears. The yearning. The fucking love that clouded every sense in him. All for you.

When he walks back to the front of the shop, he finds you sitting at one of the small tables for two. You’re holding a cup of something, and another waits for him in the seat in front of you.

Katsuki takes one deep breath in before walking towards where you are. He sits but you don’t look at him, you’re looking down at the cup between your small hands. He slightly smiles, he knows what you’re doing. Your hands are always cold, so you like holding the cup between your hands with anything warm in it to try to warm them. You have done this since he could remember, and that thought makes his insides sparkle. You haven’t changed at all.

Yet many things have changed.

The sweet and warm smell of hot chocolate fills his nostrils, and the smile widens on his face as he sees the contents of his cup. Katsuki isn’t the type to like sweet things, yet your hot chocolate has always been his weakness.

He hasn’t had it in years, since you moved away to another continent, so he can avoid to enjoy quite thoroughly the first sip. And yeah, it tastes just as he remembers. All you.

There’s silence. He doesn’t push a conversation and neither do you. You both just drink your hot cocoa and wait. Wait for anyone to gather some courage and say something.

There’s so much to say, so much to ask, so much to answer. Yet the bubble is nice and cozy, Katsuki really doesn’t want to be the one to pop it.

Right at the last sip of the drink, you are the one who decides to finally pop the bubble.

“I know,” it’s all you say, and Katsuki understands it perfectly.

You know he has been around. You know he has been watching from afar, carefully protecting you from the shadows. You know he has sent Izuku and Eijirou more times than he cares to admit just so he knew you were okay, safe. You know it had been Katsuki the one who dealt with that piece of trash who left the shop without paying and sent the money via mailing to you. You know he was the one who hung the big sign of your shop after it fell due to a strong windy day. You know he has been aware of every one of your moves around the shop for a month.

You know.

“I was… I didn’t want to-...” His voice breaks when he looks up and sees the tears running down your cheeks. His own eyes fill with uncontrollable tears he knows he won’t be able to hold back any longer either.

For the first time, Katsuki thinks his heart won’t survive this.

Despite this, he smiles genuinely at you and asks, “H-how have you been doing?”

You don’t break eye contact as you clean the tears from your face and murmur a simple, “Good.”

Katsuki knows himself well, and he knows he is a complete bastard. Because it pisses him off. It makes him mad that you’re good when he carries this turmoil of feelings for you that are making him go insane day by day.

He feels his insides bursting, all the emotions spilling out from his being pathetically as he cries in front of you. “Really?” One nod in answer. And he can’t stand looking at your facade of neutral features as tears keep escaping your eyes in betrayal.

Katsuki snorts, forearms leaning over the table and his head hanging low, “Why it fuckin’ annoys me that you’re doing well? Damn it.”

“You don’t actually mean that…”

“I do, I always mean everything I fuckin’ say,” he leans back against the chair, eyes going back to yours. His probably are even redder thanks to his tears, just like yours already look puffy from yours.

Katsuki decides then that this is the moment. This is the moment to finally pour out everything he has been carrying inside for you.

“Because you see, as I’m sure you’re aware now, day by fuckin’ day, I’m dying a little more inside without you. And you’re just– doing well.”

The sudden cry that leaves your being makes him want to hold you, and the little sobs only sink him more into the pit of feelings he named ‘Y/N’. Because he hasn’t been able to get out of it, nor has he actually put enough effort to, swimming there painfully pleasantly.

And yet… there you are. Doing well.

So well, that you are going to marry another guy.

Katsuki stretches his arm over the table and reaches without struggle the wrist of one of your hands that hides your crying face. You let him bring that hand toward the table, and he holds it in between his. He smiles again; he was right, your hands are always cold.

“Y-you waited…” you weep, your other hand resting over your chest, right where your heart is.

He nods, “I waited…”

You close your eyes, head going to a side and sobbing again. It hurts him so much to see you like this, just as much as the thought of another man being the carer of that precious heart of yours.

“Oh, Katsuki…”

The way you whimper his name like it physically hurts you, made him want to vomit. It brought a new deep pain to his chest that he doubts he is ever going to recover from.

There’s silence again, both of you sniffing and trying to gather your emotions back in control.

He doesn’t know why he came here. Probably he needed a confirmation of what Izuku told him after his first encounter with you.

“She’s going to marry, Kacchan,” Izuku’s words had been like an ice-cold bucket of water thrown at his back, leaving him breathless and distressed. But it didn’t compare with the next bomb, “because she’s pregnant. She wanted the ceremony to be here, in commemoration of her parents.”

He pucked right then and there; Izuku being the best fucking friend he always has been tended to Katsuki’s breakdown that day. The nerd even held him in a tight hug as he bawled his soul out.

But again, the pain doesn’t compare to the living proof right in front of his eyes now.

The hand he’s holding in between his is the one where an engagement ring adorns your beautiful finger. A ring that should have been from him, and not that other guy.

The very discreet little bump on your abdomen he got to feel when he caught you when you fell from the old ladder makes him boil with frustration. That should have been his little brat inside you, and not the other guy’s.

Bakugou Katsuki really feels like a sword has stroked right through the middle of his heart.

And it doesn’t matter anymore, he’s going to die watching from afar how the love of his life is being united to another guy. Well, you already are.

Ah.

Katsuki didn’t mind the cold. The quirk his parents gave him made him run hot most of the time.

Yet, from now on, Katsuki thinks he’s going to feel the piercing cold everyone talks about in winter forever.

He thinks he’s going to hate the cold now.

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johnbrand · 6 months ago

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This or That

“Wait, what did you say this game was called again?” Christopher asked.

“‘This or That’!” Felix replied, obviously excited. All day he had waited to try out this new personality-quiz app, having received a plethora of positive reviews from friends, coworkers, and online. As soon as his shift was up, he rushed back to the small apartment he shared with his loving boyfriend. The smoother, slimmer Christopher was surprised by his partner’s sudden enjoyment and fascination as the app finished its download.

“How does it work?”

“It’s simple,” Felix, more of a twunk vers than an actual top, replied. “Apparently the game offers you different options, red or blue, this or that. You keep filtering down before it lands on a hyper-specific personality type.”

Christopher shrugged, “Sounds simple enough, but why is it so popular?”

“It’s supposed to be like freaky accurate.” Felix opened the app and entered CHRISTOPHER into the flashing box. “I’ve been hearing about it all day, but I wanted to try it with you.”

Christopher blushed at that, watching as the first prompt came in. The app wished to know who was filling out the survey: “This” was the person themselves, “That” was another person. Felix pushed “That”.

“So you’re filling it out for me?” Christopher asked, a little bummed.

“And you’ll do mine,” Felix assured, moving past the next prompt. The first few waves were the simple ones: male or female, old or young, rich or comfortable. Christopher laid back into the couch they were both seated on, grabbing a remote and searching for a “The Real Housewives…” title. On Felix’s end, he eventually landed on a question regarding sexuality.

THIS: Heterosexuality or THAT: Homosexuality

Felix’s finger tapped “That”, but unlike before the next prompt did not appear. For some reason, the "That" option did not respond and proceed forward. He tapped it again, and again, and kept doing so until Christopher noticed.

“I think my screen may have frozen?” Felix explained. To check, he tapped the “This” option. His face skewed slightly as it accepted, moving forward.

“Is it working again, dude?” Chris asked, not looking up from his phone.

“Uh…yeah,” Felix gulped, hoping the error would not severely impact the results. He was already a good amount in, and he did not want to make his roommate wait. Felix reviewed the next prompt.

THIS: Alpha or THAT: Beta

Felix knew the answer, but something told him to go with the other option. He had already messed up, so maybe it would be funny to purposely skew further. Thinking it could be a good laugh, Felix considered manipulating the quiz to manufacture the opposite. Cautiously, he pressed the “This” option, moving on.

“God, these hags are annoying…” Chris mumbled, his voice a little deeper than usual as he switched channels to something more interesting. The loud rowdiness of a football game’s broadcast quickly filled the room, but all Felix could focus on was his phone. To his surprise, after the last tap, the app had begun to filter through its own prompts on its own. Felix’s eyes tried to follow as the screen flashed with new questions and answered them accordingly.

THIS: Masculine-Leaning or THAT: Feminine-Leaning

THIS: Monoracial or THAT: Multiracial

THIS: Strong or THAT: Meek

THIS: Arrogant or THAT: Reserved

THIS: Excitable or THAT: Laid-Back

THIS: Selfless or THAT: Authoritative

THIS: Traditional or THAT: Progressive

Each of the answers clicked by without Felix being able to alter a thing. He could not even exit the app. Desperate, Felix stood up and moved towards the kitchen, hoping to grab his laptop in order to look up some kind of solution. But before he made it, the app suddenly stopped, presenting Felix with the results.

“With 100% accuracy, This or That reports that CRISTOBAL is: AVERAGE STRAIGHT MALE.”

Felix stood stunned, taking a breath and slowly reentering reality. Still on the couch and now manspreading as much as possible, Chris’s focus appeared to be solely on the cheerleaders performing their half-time show. Felix’s own focus soon shifted to be solely on his straight roommate’s cock, the massive schlong becoming chubby thanks to the tit-tastic routine on the television.

“Bro? Come on!” Chris’s rich, masculine voice snapped Felix out of his lustful gaze. “I hate it when you do that gay stuff, it’s annoying.”

“Oh…uh sorry…” Something felt wrong, like Felix was forgetting something.

“You can be a fag or whatever, it doesn’t matter to me,” Chris’s slight cringe said otherwise. “But you can’t just perv on my goods man.”

Felix nodded quickly, blushing furiously.

“By the way, you’ll need to stay in your room again tonight. Finally convinced this chick from stats to come over and ‘study’. She doesn’t know the only thing she’ll be studying is all 8 inches of my man meat.”

His straight roommate smirked cockily at his own joke, adjusting himself proudly. Felix tried his best not to sneak a look and obediently exited to his room. As soon as his door was shut, Felix gave his throbbing cock a tug, hoping Chris’s study partner would be arriving soon.

#gay to straight #male tf #male transformation #jock tf #dumbification #latinization #unintended results

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baddestboy · 2 years ago

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“Why the fuck are you here.” Bakugo growls out after opening his front door and sees you outside, holding a tower of tupperware so high that he can barely see your face.

You rolled your eyes. “Relax, dude. I’m not here to beat your ass. Now get out of the way, my arms are killing me.”

Bakugo steps aside as he narrowly misses your shoulder check, and trails after you like a lost puppy as you enter his kitchen so, so naturally like you live there and start putting away the food containers you brought into his fridge.

He's transfixed by the thought of you living with him. He's probably imagined it so many times until…

He clears his throat to break the silence, arms crossed in judgment as he leans back the kitchen counter to watch you. “You haven’t answered my question, dumbass. The fuck you’re here for?”

After closing his refrigerator door with your hip, you turn to face him and shoot him a charming, sweet smile that gets him caught off guard for a split second, before he scowls at you.

You laugh a little, letting up. “Mitsuki asked me to come over and check in on you while she was visiting my mom. She all but forced me to get into her car and dropped me off here unceremoniously, and now I'm stuck here with you."

His scowl deepened after hearing your explanation. "That damn hag, always poking her nose in my fuckin' business."

"She's just concerned, y'know. She thinks you don't have any friends—"

"The fuck you're saying? Of course I do–"

"She means outside of hero work, dummy."

He scoffs. "How many times do I have to tell that woman that it's none of her concern."

You winced in mock pain and clutched your chest dramatically. "So you don't consider me as a friend, Bakugo?"

He rolls his eyes and moves closer to you, putting his hands on your hips and growls in your ear. "You obviously know you're more than that, dumbass."

You laughed and put your arms around his neck, drawing him closer. "It's so hard to pretend that we're not dating, Katsuki. I really like you a lot."

Bakugo's ears turned red and he tried to look away from you, before grumbling something under his breath that sounded suspiciously a lot like "....I like you a lot too."

You enjoyed the comfortable silence and leaned into his chest for a moment, before you decided to speak up again.

"Anyway, I know that we both decided to keep it a secret first so you could prepare telling your mom, but I think I kinda made it a little bit obvious that I was happy to see you…?"

He stills. "What?"

You sense his panic and wince. "Oh no. Sorry, babe. Surely she doesn't know…?"

He swears and immediately untangles himself from you, before looking at his front door in horror.

Bakugo rushes to open the door, where Mitsuki was not-so-subtly eavesdropping with a big shit-eating grin on her face.

When he confirms his suspicions, he groans. "You old hag. You knew all along, didn't you?"

Mitsuki shrugs innocently. "What can I say, it's a mother's instinct. Katsuki, come with me for a moment."

She winks at you before pulling Bakugo's ear and drags him out into the hallway, where she whisper-yells at Bakugo things that made him turn wide-eyed and his face a very bright red.

Once she was satisfied, she pushes Bakugo back into his apartment. "I'll be leaving you both to it. Have a great night, love birds!"

Mitsuki winks at you again and closes the door with a resounding click, finally leaving for the night.

You and Bakugo look at each other awkwardly, not knowing what to say to each other after his mother's meddling.

"...so, does this mean that she supports us dating?"

"The old hag's already naming her future grandchildren."

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heli-writes · 9 months ago

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A dragon's heart, part 8.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: injuries, sexism, mentions of male genitalia, orgasms and (oral) sex

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Minors do not interact.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Katsuki fastens the stag at the dragon's back behind the saddle. Y/n stands beside him and secures the stag while Katsuki uses the straps to make sure that the stag doesn't fall off during the flight. She watches as Katsuki works with a grim expression on his face. More grim than usual, she thinks. She wonders why. She doesn't know that Katsuki takes her to his tribe today. He didn't even try to tell her since she wouldn't understand him anyway.

He would never admit it but he's anxious. He knows that his men will celebrate his victory. Coming home with a successful hunt. Bringing home a woman for the tribe.

Concerning the old hag, he's not so sure. His mother is one of the few remaining women in his tribe. The plague took most of the fertile women. Meaning old women past their fertile prime and young girls before their first blood survived. Leaving a whole generation of young men behind.

His mother always had very specific expectations of how Katsuki's life was supposed to take place. Becoming the tribe's leader, for example. That being said, he's not sure she will approve of him bringing home a stray female. Well, that'd be alright if he did and brought her for his men. Or for himself for a night. But definitely not as a potential mate for himself.

Suddenly, there's a warm hand on his bicep. Y/n. She must've said something to him considering how expectantly she looks at him. „What, woman?“, he spats. Y/n furrows her brow in worry. Clearly, something is upsetting Katsuki.

Y/n walks closer to him and wraps her arms around his middle and leans into him. For a second, Katsuki wants to push her away because he is annoyed. When he sees how she looks at him, he changes his mind. Soft eyes look up at him, making him dizzy.

He shifts so he can take her into his arms. He leans his forehead onto hers and takes a deep breath. He can still feel the angry feeling in his stomach. Or is it anxiety? He doesn't know. Either way, it feels like a stone lying right behind his belly button.

Y/n moves her head and meets Katsuki in a kiss. Without opening his eyes, Katsuki kisses her back. In contrast to yesterday at the bonfire, this kiss is sweet and slow. There's no fire behind it just reassurance. Katsuki doesn't realize how the stone dissolves itself.

Breaking the kiss, Katsuki looks down at y/n who places a hand on his cheek and softly strokes it. He wants to sigh and kiss her again but y/n slips out of the embrace and gets another bag that needs to be secured at the dragon's back.

Before they take to the sky, y/n takes a look at Katsuki's injury one more time. She's afraid that the wound won't heal properly with Katsuki moving around so much. Katsuki thinks it's completely unnecessary but he lets y/n fret over him for a bit. Maybe he also enjoys it a bit. When she's done, they mount the dragon.

Y/n watches their surrounding with excited eyes. Somehow, she can't get enough of watching the landscape from so high above. Katsuki does not do any stupid tricks this time and just lets her enjoy the view. Now and then, he presses a kiss to her neck which makes her feel fuzzy inside.

Slowly, but steadily the landscape starts to change. The forest areas become less and less dense and few more settlements can be spotted. The air grows cooler.

They fly for two or three hours when y/n starts to notice a painful ache in her tights. She remembers what happened last time when they flew for a longer period of time. She tries to ignore the pain until it becomes too much. She turns around and asks Katsuki to land. When he doesn't understand her, she keeps pointing to the ground.

„What, you gotta piss? I've told you to go before we left, stupid woman.“, Katsuki mumbles but gives the dragon a sign to land.

After the dragon touches land, Katsuki helps y/n down. He notices how her movements are stiff. He touches her legs and notice how cool she's gotten. He scrambles for some clothes when y/n wobbles behind a tree.

There, she lifts her dress and looks at her tights. There are blisters forming and there are fine tears in her skin. „Fuck.“, she mumbles.

„Fuck?“, Katsuki's amused voice says behind her.

Y/n drops her skirt and turns around. Dramatically, she rolls his eyes to make it clear what she thinks of that comment. She's sure as hell that Katsuki has a foul mouth. He shouldn't make fun of her when she uses a swear word here and then.

„You done?“, he says putting his hand on his hips. Wordlessly, y/n wobbles back to the dragon and looks for the medicine bag. Katsuki watches her closely, not getting why she needs wound dressing.

„You stay here“, y/n tells him, „Don't look.“

She wobbles behind the dragon and sits down carefully she looks for the rash cream and some bandages. Katsuki follows her closely behind.

„Go away!“, she tells him and waves her hand. Katsuki picks up one of the bandages.

„Why do you need those? Are you hurt or what?“, he asks. Y/n gives him a mean look and keeps pointing behind the dragon.

When Katsuki doesn't move, y/n sighs in defeat. It's not like he will see anything inappropriate. It's just legs after all, y/n tells herself and starts ruffling up her skirt.

Katsuki's eyes widen when he realizes why y/n wanted him to leave. However, he does not show any signs of moving away. Instead, he very intensely stares up y/n's naked leg. Y/n makes sure lady parts are covered but can't help feeling embarrassed by Katsuki's stares. He must know this intimate. Especially when she has to prop up and spread one leg in order to get to the wound.

In all honesty, very indecent thoughts run through Katsuki's mind when he sees y/n in this position. That is until he sees the wounds on y/n's thighs. Immediately, he steps closer, kneels down and grabs y/n's knee hollow pushing her leg further apart. Y/n yelps as she almost loses balance.

Katsuki inspects the wound. „Rider's rash.“, he determines. Not uncommon if you ride a horse or dragon without proper clothes. Y/n's dress definitely falls under the category of improper clothes for riding. Katsuki wants to scold himself. He should've thought of this. It's not like y/n had any other choice but to ride with the clothes on her back since she had no others.

Katsuki lets go off her leg and grabs the rash cream.

„I-it's fine! I can do that myself!“, y/n says jittery and tries to grab the cream out of Katsuki's hand. She really doesn't want him to touch her anywhere near there. No, that's wrong. She definitely wants that but not now and not here.

Katsuki just swats her hand away and takes a big goop of cream. Carefully, he spreads her leg again applying the cream onto the wound. While he's very concentrated on treating the wound, he's also painfully aware of how close he is to the place his men would kill for. When the cream is applied he wraps a bandage around it. Without asking, he checks y/n's other leg and repeats the process.

Meanwhile, y/n's face burns in a bright red.

Once he's done, he lets go of her and pulls her skirt over her legs again. A gesture that y/n appreciates. Then, he rumbles through a bag and gets another pair of pants. It's shorter than the one he wears. He helps y/n into the pants and y/n stuffs her dress into the pants trying to use the fabric as a cushion for the wounds that already formed. Katsuki also wraps his cape around her shoulder and arms.

Then, it's time to fly again.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They fly for the rest of the day. Only taking a quick pee break in between. While y/n is fascinated by the view for a while, she eventually grows tired. At some point, she leans back and rests her head against Katsuki's shoulder. He lets her because he knows how tiring flying can be to an untrained body. He remembers how beat he was after his first few flying lessons.

When the mighty Bear Fang Mountains come into view, Katsuki nudges y/n awake. Actually, she bolts awake and when she remembers where she is, she immediately clings to Katsuki's arms for balance.

„Wow“, she breathes at the sight in front of her. A large mountain range opens up in front of them. Are we flying lower or are these mountains higher than we fly?, she thinks.

„We call them Iron Peaks“, Katsuki tells her. He points along the range of mountains and repeats: „Iron Peaks“. Y/n follows the motion of his finger and mumbles: „Iron Peaks“. Katsuki corrects her pronunciation and y/n repeats the words until she feels Katsuki nod behind her.

Katsuki takes her hand and uses her index finger to point to a mountain to the right of them. „There's my home. There's where we're going. Back home.“, he tells her. Again, y/n repeats the last word Katsuki utters and he nods approvingly.

„Yes, we're going home.“, he mumbles into her hair.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's not long before the dragon starts flying lower and a settlement comes into sight. Y/n instantly recognizes how it looks different from the settlements in the kingdom. The settlement is made of tents instead of brick houses. Suddenly, a feeling of nostalgia hits her. While most villages in the kingdom were assembled out of brick houses, that's not where the wandering folk lived in.

Her people also lived in tents. Portable homes that can be set up anytime anywhere. And, of course, one cannot be struck dead by falling stones. Just the sight of the arrangement of tents makes her think of her people, her parents, and her childhood. Her heart aches and she can feel tears pricking in her eyes. Quickly she rubs them away and hopes that Katsuki mistakes them as the result of the cold wind piercing her eyes. She really can't wait to sleep in comfortable leather walls again.

Katsuki's mind is too busy to notice y/n's tears. He's growing more tense with each passing second.

The dragon approaches landing and y/n can make out human figures in between the tents. When the dragon's feet stand firm on the ground, a bunch of rough-looking men walk towards the dragon with loud roaring. For a second, y/n thinks the men are going to attack them until Katsuki lets out a triumphant howl in return.

Katsuki jumps from the dragon and his men immediately tackle him. Katsuki laughs and shoves the men away playfully. Y/n feels awkward watching him greet his friends from atop the dragon, so she carefully demounts the dragon by herself. The motion grabs the men's attention.

„A woman?“, a blonde man says with his eyes as big as saucers. „I thought you wanted to go hunting. You should've taken us with you when you planned to raid a place!“, another man complaints. Katsuki shoves him roughly.

„I wasn't on a raid, you dumb fucks. Basically, found that one roaming the woods.“, he tells them.

„Our chief is a lucky one then, heh?“, the blonde grins, „Is she a good fuck? Or you kept her decent so one of us can have her?“.

Katsuki shoots the blonde an angry glare. „Shut the fuck up, Denki. That one's mine, you got that.“, he growls.

The blonde named Denki raises his hands in defeat. „Alright, chief. But what will your mother say about that?“, Denki teases. Katsuki stomps his feet.

„I'm chief and that old hag needs to bow to my decisions.“, he shoots back.

It doesn't go unnoticed by him how his men exchange uncertain glances. While Katsuki took over the regiment a few years ago, the former chief of the tribe, his mother, still holds a certain power over people.

Y/n walks closer to the men and gives the men uncertain smiles.

„Why is she dressed like this?“

„She's so small. You sure she's gonna make it around here? Their kind is not known for being mountain-weather-resistant.“

„Are her boobs big? And her hips wide enough?“

The men swarm her trying to get a good look at her. Y/n feels really uncomfortable and, by the way the men look at her, she's worried they'll try to tear the clothes off of her.

Katsuki steps in between them. „Y'all shut the fuck up. Get your asses to work. Unload the dragon, and take care of the stag! Tonight we feast!“, he yells at them and grabs y/n's arm.

The men get to work and Katsuki wordlessly drags y/n behind him deeper into the settlement. More men wait outside their tents. Upon seeing Katsuki's angry face, they decide against greeting their leader. Nobody wants to deal with Katsuki in a bad mood. They also oogle at the woman at his side.

Y/n searches for women among them to no avail. Where are they?, she wonders. Do they stay in the tents? Are they with the kids?

She doesn't find an answer to her question. Then, Katsuki arrives at his destination. A large, painted tent in the middle of the settlement. There's a small brick hut attached to its side. One of the only stone constructions y/n spotted so far.

Katsuki leads her inside. Once inside, he lets go of her arms and throws the knife he was holding onto a table at the side. Y/n looks around carefully.

There's a large bed with furs and other blankets in the middle of the room. There are multiple wooden chests on the side of the tent.

There is a small table and two chairs on the other side. And there are weapons. A lot of them. Hanging from the ceiling. In buckets on the ground. Thrown carelessly onto the trunks.

Y/n is pretty sure that this must be Katsuki's tent.

"Y/n", Katsuki says sternly. Y/n turns around carefully. Katsuki says something that sounds like an order and y/n stares at him with furrowed brows. We really have to work on this language thing, she thinks to herself while shrugging helplessly to make him see that she doesn't understand a thing.

Katsuki sighs. He grabs her arm and pulls her to the side of the tent. Behind the table, there is an opening in the tent that is closed off with another piece of leather. Pulling it away, Katsuki reveals the entrance to the small brick hut y/n saw from the outside.

He pulls her inside and a sort of bathroom comes into sight. It's sparsely furnished but has everything that is needed. In the middle of the hut is a bathtub that is already filled with steaming water.

Katsuki points at her, then the water and says: "Bath!". Y/n nods and repeats the words. Katsuki nods and turns to leave.

The hot water feels good on y/n's skin. The cool mountain air already cooled down y/n's body and she's glad she can warm herself up a bit. Also, she hasn't washed herself since before the festival at the village. Now that she thinks about it, she must really stink. She wonders if Katsuki noticed.

Embarrassed, she scrubs her skin until it is burning. Katsuki's tribe must not care too much about smells at least there are no nice soaps or scented oils in the bathroom. Just an odorless curd soap. After y/n dried herself off, she wished she had some of that bee wax lotion that her mother made. Her mother always put some lavender oil in it which y/n find quite relaxing.

When she's done, she wraps the towel she found in the hut around her body. She doesn't want to put on her old dress since it's all sweaty and gross.

Katsuki isn't in the tent when she returns. She sits down on the bed while she waits for him. When she grows cold again, she loses the wet towel and wraps herself in one of the blankets.

After a while, the opening to the tent is lifted and Katsuki steps back into the room. He acknowledges her with a curt nod.

Y/n hops off the bed wrapped in the blanket. "Can I borrow some clothes from you?", she asks him. When she sees he doesn't understand, she holds up her dress and repeats: "Clothes?".

"Clothes?", he repeats and looks at the dress and then at her. Y/n can see the wheels in Katsuki's head turning. Suddenly, his eyes widen and he looks at the dress and then at her in realization.

The realization is that y/n is naked underneath the blanket.

Katsuki swallows hard. There's a naked woman wrapped in his blanket in his tent. Quickly, he tries to shake off the thought. He starts rummaging through the chests for some clothes for her.

He finds a woolen shirt and linen pants. He doesn't have any female clothes and he makes a note to get some for her tomorrow.

Katsuki throws the clothes at y/n and y/n almost drops the blanket. Katsuki wishes she would drop it. He's curious about how she looks naked. So, he tries his luck and keeps looking at her expectantly. Maybe she'll change in front of him.

She doesn't. Actually, Katsuki staring at her makes her a bit angry. It's rude, she thinks. "Turn around!", she tells him and makes a rotating movement with her index finger.

Katsuki waits another moment in hopes she will change her mind but then turns around. It takes all the self-restraint he possesses not to peek.

When he feels her hand on his arm, he turns around again.

"Socks?", y/n asks and shows him her naked feet and Katsuki scrambles for some socks. The socks are way too big for y/n but they are thicker than her own socks.

Y/n feels a lot better now that she wears some fresh clothes even though she must look ridiculous since the clothes are way too big for her and not something a woman would ever wear.

Katsuki however can't take his eyes off her. He hasn't taken her on as his mate yet and the fact that she wears his clothes is so... intimate to him. Like she's already his.

Y/n wraps the blanket around herself again since it's still way too cold for her in the tent. Katsuki leads her to the bed and makes her sit down.

He looks at her for a moment and pets her head for a second before telling her: "Stay here".

Y/n sighs deeply. She already learned what "stay" means. He must've told her a thousand times already. But, she doesn't complain.

She's tired and not in the mood to be confronted with his strange men outside. She just nods at him and lays down. Katsuki tucks her in and presses a kiss to her forehead.

When Katsuki leaves, it doesn't take long before y/n's eyes get droopy and she slips into a slumber.

Somewhen when the sun's already down, she is woken up by loud yelling outside. There are sounds of a celebration but y/n is too tired to care. She just pulls a pillow over her head and goes back to sleep again.

She's woken up roughly by Katsuki shaking her uninjured shoulder. He holds a steaming plate into her face.

Suddenly, y/n is awake in a second. Her stomach is grumbling. While y/n eats, Katsuki disappears into the stone hut.

The food is delicious. It's the stag meat and some form of mashed potatoes but spicier. While y/n eats, she notices how quiet it has gotten outside.

Seems like the party's over, she thinks when Katsuki returns to the main room again.

The food almost falls out of y/n's mouth.

He's naked. Absolutely butt-naked. He's not even trying to hide his manhood.

Y/n throws a pillow at him.

"What?", Katsuki snarks and y/n throws another pillow at him.

When he turns fully around at her to scold her for throwing things at him, y/n slaps her hands in front of her eyes.

"Tsk", Katsuki exclaims but has to hide his grin, "What? Did you expect me to act all innocent like you? This is my home, y'know. Also, you should get used to it!"

Y/n doesn't move until Katsuki puts on some proper clothes (which for him is thin linen pants and that's it) and even then her face is still burning red.

Katsuki lays down next to her and props up his head. Even though y/n's appetite is dimmed after the naked encounter, she finishes the plate to not seem ungrateful.

After she's put the plate away on the table, Katsuki grabs her waist when she returns to his bed. While it takes y/n by surprise, she doesn't fight it. Before she knows it, she's pinned beneath him and his lips are on hers.

Katsuki kisses her feverishly, starved even. As if he's been waiting all evening to kiss her. Which, to be fair, he did. The action overwhelms y/n for a second but when Katsuki doesn't pull back and y/n wraps her head around it, she kisses back.

Katsuki lets his hands wander. He avoids any body parts that get him hit with a pillow, at least for now. Y/n mirrors his actions and runs her hands up and down his arms and back.

Katsuki forces his tongue into y/n's mouth which she gladly accepts. With a dizzy head, she acknowledges that Katsuki is an extremely good kisser. At least to her. Not that she kissed that many people before.

When Katsuki starts pressing open-mouthed kisses onto her neck and collarbone, y/n lets out a breathy sigh. Katsuki's mouth and hands on her just feel too good.

While Katsuki's dick has been hard before this, it jumps at the sound y/n makes.

There's nothing more in the world he wants right now than tearing the clothes off of her and exploring every inch of her body with his mouth.

He knows it's off-limit until they become mates and for a second he contemplates if making her come on his tongue really breaks the rules since he's technically not mating her. He decides not to test the rage of the gods.

He detaches from her neck and rolls over facing her. Y/n is left lying on her back, breathing heavily.

"You asshole", she tells him and Katsuki has to laugh.

She turns to him and Katsuki opens his arms to her. Y/n crawls into his embrace while Katsuki pulls a heavy blanket over both of them.

For a while, they lay in silence. Katsuki strokes over y/n's back and presses a kiss onto her forehead every now and then. Somewhen Katsuki's movements become slower and eventually, they stop.

He must've fallen asleep, y/n thinks. Meanwhile, she's wide awake. She snuggles deeper into Katsuki's chest and listens to his soft, steady breathing.

Somehow, she feels at ease. Even though she's been brought to this place and its strange men. She should probably feel anxious about what happens tomorrow but she can't find it in her to stress out about it.

All thoughts eventually spin back to Katsuki and how she's sure that whatever happens, Katsuki will protect her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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a-b-riddle · 3 months ago

Text

Sins of the Father

cw: shifter romance. A/B/O dynamics. Angst. Grovel. Hurt/comfort. Sick children. Loss of parents. Last name mentioned for reader (sorry but they have to call her something). I’ll add more if I think of any. I’m back in my wattpad era. cringe. Reader is early to mid twenties. Related to story sorry :(

pairings: poly141 x OFC

Summary: For seven years you have lived as an outcast in your own pack. Shunned, you had to make due to ensure not only your own survival but your younger sister’s as well. Now, after years of failing to shift and being labeled as broken, the connection that the gods had chosen for you clicks into place. Much to uour dismay, it’s not only person who sentenced you to exile, but his three betas as well.

There were two rules above all else in your world:

1) Don’t disobey the Alpha.

2) Don’t sneak off packlands.

Since there was a direct order from Alpha Price to stay in the territory, you were breaking both. But the alphahole was twisting your arm at this point. It was either obey him and let Rosie die or say fuck it and she might be able to fight the infection.

Rosie 13 months old when your mother went missing. Four months later, your father had challenged Price. His wounds had been fatal and the consequence for his betrayal had fallen upon you and Rosie. She was still a baby and you were still a child yourself. But you guess the daughters were meant to pay for the sins of their father.

And Rosie had paid nearly all of her life for what your father had done. No medical aid given. Your monthly rations were whatever was leftover. Year after year the rations had dwindled down to the point where it wasn’t enough to sustain you both through a quarter of the way through the winter.

You had learned long ago that being a part of a pack didn’t make you part of the pack. Which was why you had to rely on trading with the humans in order to get medicine and non-perishable goods.

Tonight was the night before the run. No one except border patrol would be out and no one keeps tabs on what happens to the Blackburn girls. No one would be looking out for the pack’s pariah at this time of night.

You couldn’t breathe easy until your cottage came into view. You were thankful that you were so far away from the rest of the pack and remained at the edge of the border. The five mile trek had been taken down to a little over two.

Rosie was still tucked in bed just as she had been the last two days. The cold cloth on her forehead no doubt warm now. She stirred awake as the door creaked shut behind you. “Sissy?” Her voice rasped, sounding more like old hag than a 9-year-old girl.

“Hey Rosie Posey,” You greeted softly as you pulled the pill bottle from your backpack. “Miss Oliver says hi. Hopes to see you soon.”

Miss Oliver was a doctor that you had met years ago. Anytime Rosie got too sick for you to handle, you sought her out. She had always been willing to help. Even given the difference in species.

Rosie took the medicine without fuss and settled back into bed after offering a quiet, “thank you.”

You put away the supplies you had gotten. After changing out of your sweaty clothes, you had washed off with a basin of water and a rag in the corner of the room. The fire had now dwindled down to glowing embers.

You laid down next to her and almost by instinct, her body moved closer to yours. No doubt seeking any warmth she could.

It was hard. Having maternal feelings for a child who was meant to be your sibling. Having to become a mother before you really got the chance to be a sister.

You were just grateful she was still here.

It was moments like this when the hate you had for Price and the pack left your body body. When Rosie’s breathing becomes clear and her skin doesn’t burn beneath your touch. Where for just a moment you don’t live a crumbling shack. You feel safe and the worries of tomorrow escape you.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #angst #angst with a happy ending #grovel

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p0orbaby · 5 months ago

Text

Growing Pains

summary: who doesn’t like a bit of family drama before dinner?

warnings: none really, just a teen getting a telling off

a/n: for those who wanted more mum alessia, this is for you

word count: 838

“Sit down” you say, voice steady but firm in the soft glow of the early evening.

The kitchen is eerily silent, save for the occasional clatter of dishes from dinner prep. Leo, your thirteen-year-old, stands before you with a potent blend of resistance and guilt painted across his face. His tousled hair and stubborn stance scream rebellion. He’s tall for his age, already standing at five foot five. However, he is not as intimidating as he thinks he is.

“Is this about the call from school?” Your wife asks from her spot at the counter, not turning around. Her back radiates calm, though you know she’s smirking into the sink, probably remembering some equally ridiculous thing she did at his age.

“Yes,” you reply, not taking your eyes off Leo. “It seems our dear son thought it would be amusing to call Mrs. Thompson a—what was it, Leo?”

Leo mumbles something unintelligible, staring at the floor as if it holds the secret to escaping this conversation. His toe pushes against the leg of a dining chair, scraping the tile, a small act of defiance.

“Louder,” you instruct, your patience wearing thin.

“A bossy old hag who probably sleeps with a textbook,” he repeats, a little clearer but still sullen and wilted.

Alessia’s laugh slips out before she can catch it, morphing into a cough when you shoot her a look. This is why you’re always ‘Un-Fun Mum.’ Of course, she’d find it hilarious. Classic Leo, the class clown with a streak of righteous anger he unfortunately inherited from you.

“Leonardo,” you start, trying to keep your resolve from dissolving completely, “what were you thinking?”

He shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as if he’s proud of his cleverness and the fact he made his favourite parent laugh. “She was being unfair,” he says, defensively. “She keeps picking on Etta”

Giulietta, your eleven-year-old daughter, is undoubtedly eavesdropping from her usual spy post at the top of the stairs. Her sweetness contrasts sharply with her brother's budding anarchist tendencies. You can practically see her, a shadow on the landing, ears perked for any mention of her name.

“That doesn't give you the right to insult her,” you say, feeling your frustration bubble up. “You need to find better ways to stand up for your sister”

“Like what?” he snaps back, eyes flashing. “Letting her get away with it?” His arms cross over his chest, a miniature version of Alessia when she (rarely) geared up for a fight on the pitch.

You open your mouth to respond, but Alessia steps in, sensing your irritation about to boil over. “Leo, what your mother is trying to say is that there are better ways to handle these situations,” she says, her tone like butter melting on toast. “You could have come to us, or spoken to the headteacher”

Leo's eyes flick to her, searching for some sign of leniency. The kid knows which parent to work for an angle. “But—“

“No buts,” you cut in, the finality in your voice slamming the door shut on this discussion. “You're grounded. No phone, no games, no friends”

“That's not fair!” he protests, his voice a pitch higher, desperation edging in. His face is red, the first sign that he’s about to cry. Or scream.

“Life's not fair,” you retort, standing your ground like a fortress at the centre of battle. “You'll survive”

There's a moment of tense silence, then Leo spins on his heels and storms upstairs, each stomp a protest echoing off the walls. You hear him muttering under his breath, no doubt something unflattering, possibly inventive. The door to his room slams, a punctuation mark on his outrage.

Alessia crosses the room and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You did the right thing,” she says softly, her touch a balm.

You sigh, leaning into her touch. “I know, but it doesn't make it any easier”

She smiles, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, a gesture that makes you feel like a teenager again. “Parenting never is. But we're in this together, okay?”

You nod, feeling the tension slowly drain from your shoulders like water from a leaky tap. “I know, love.” The smell of the dinner Alessia’s been preparing—garlic, tomatoes, something roasted—wafts through the room, grounding you.

From upstairs, the sound of muffled crying seeps through the ceiling. Leo’s rage, morphing into sorrow. Alessia’s hand slides down your arm, intertwining her fingers with yours.

“We’ll talk to him later,” she whispers. “When he's calmed down”

“Yeah,” you agree, squeezing her hand. “We’ll figure it out”

You both stand there for a moment, listening to the sounds of your home. The hum of the fridge, the distant rush of water from the bathroom where Giulietta is probably hiding out, and the low murmur of Leo's sobs. Parenthood, a constant balance between love and discipline, laughter and tears.

“Come on,” Alessia says finally, giving your hand a gentle tug. “Dinner's almost ready. Let's set the table”

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #awfc #awfc x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community

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the-fandom-is-now-my-life · 7 months ago

Note

Could umm… you happen to do another if creator had a child and its wanderer. The only odd/strange thing about the baby is that they have ball joints like a puppet?just wondering

The creator had a

Doll like child

Wc: ~700

“Wanderer?” You ask without fully expecting an answer, whenever you spend the night stargazing both of you get lost in your thoughts.

“What?”

“What we did a few weeks ago was to spite Raiden?” your eyes look at him,m while he still lays down, the dark fibers of his hair brushing against the milky white of his skin “Hey, answer”

“You are incredible, you know” his brow furrows and softly sighs “asking such dumb questions”

“Just answer it”

“Do you truly need me to say it to your face?” he looks tired, as if the question seemed so unbelievably obvious to him. When your eyes meet he sighs again like an angsty teen “no, I didn't start intimacy with you just to bother the hag. I would never fall that low”

A soft hum leaves your lips, nodding to the comforting words you had to wrangle out of him.

“Why even the question? That was like four months ago”

“I think I might be pregnant” his surprised jolt almost made him slide off the roof.

“How is that possible even?” He presses his elbow, feeling the ball and socket joint underneath the false skin. Two pieces of wood rotating around a small sphere rather than your own arm, where the bones were secured by ligaments and muscles had to contract for every movement.

“Honestly, I wonder the same”

“Aren't you supposed to know everything?”

“Last time I checked dolls weren't able to reproduce”

“Do you think it will be human or more like… me?” the last part of his question sounded almost heartbroken. Softly you grasp his fingers in your hand, encouraging him.

“I will love them regardless”

“How weird, at birth Ara seemed pretty hypotonic, but now she seems alright” one of the bimarstan nurses checks the baby, pulling her off the ground from her arms and laying her flat on her palm. But she felt like a ragdoll if it wasn't by her breathing and her annoyed expression by the handling

“At least there doesn't seem to be anything else”

“let's just keep an eye on it” she promptly returns her to you.

‘could that be because of wanderer? He said that part of what kept him together was elemental energy, it could be that as she grows she absorbs it’

“Ara, what are you doing?” You ask playfully to the toddler who sneaked in the kitchen and made a mess with the pots and lids.

“I see someone is quite active this morning, huh?” The father of said child pops from behind you, passes by your side and plops the year old on his hip. Her gummy smile is an adorable sight, her chubby hand pointing to his hat and the other grabbing the lid she put on her head.

“Are you trying to imitate someone?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He looks at his child and back at you “we aren't even that similar” he says while holding his mini clone. At the same time they both lean their head sideways, the hats leaning towards that side.

“Isn't she so cute?” Nahida looks at your toddler daughter brushing her doll's hair, her dark hair framing her face and her big blue eyes reflecting the sunlight off them.

“She does remind me of a Hina doll” Raiden approaches a hand to pat her head but Ara slaps it away before poking out her tongue and rushes outside “did she just…”

Your hand cups your cheek, curious at what happened to your usual quiet baby “That is quite unexpected, she does tend to enjoy getting her hair played with” could hatred be inherited by genes? That was the only reason you could think of for a 3 year old to hate Raiden on sight.

“And if you see a woman wearing a kimono and a braid she is a witch that came to curse you, so make sure to kick her in the shin, understood?”

“Kitty!” the girl yells as she opens her presents

“Yes, that is a cat, Bu’er brought it to you for you birthday” as you look deeper into the black cat you can't help but feel its dark fur and purple eyes remind you of someone. Even more so when a small black kitten and a coloured cat are also in the box.

#genshin impact #gi #sagau #genshin x reader #self aware genshin impact #genshin sagau #wanderer x reader #wanderer #scaramouche #genshin scara #scara x reader #scara #sagau x reader #genshin impact sagau

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mybutcheredtongue · 5 months ago

Text

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around my Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE (see full series list here)

1994

A few weeks after the school term ends, you stand on a deserted street at night, looking up at the line of buildings and homes in front of you.

That's where Dumbledore told you to go to number 12...but it's not here? You're in Grimmauld Place, and in front of you is Number 11 and Number 13, with no 12 in the middle?

You squint up at the buildings ahead, sighing in frustration. If this is some sort of trick, like you have to solve a riddle every time you want to enter the Order of the Phoenix headquarters you're going to be livid.

Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

A battered door emerges out of nowhere between 11 and 13, followed swiftly by dark walls and grimy windows. You gape up at the building that's just magically appeared before you, breathing out in surprise, and then you walk up to the door and, as Dumbledore instructed you to do, tap it with your wand.

There's a click, and you warily push the door open, stepping into a dimly lit hallway and shutting the door behind you. It smells old and damp, like a derelict building. Beside you, the wallpaper peels off the walls and beneath your feet is a threadbare carpet. Painted portraits, blackened with age, line the walls.

You glance down at Dubh's crate, the handle held tightly in your fingers, and then walk down the hallway towards a door at the end. On the wall, there's shabby curtains stretching across a large space — there must be a door behind it.

"Hello?" You call, your voice echoing. "Is anybody — "

"Filth! Half-blood! I can smell it on you!"

You whip your head around to the source of this vile, ear-splitting screeching, finding the curtains you had spotted now open, except instead of there being a door behind it, you're met with a life-sized portrait of an old woman, her face red with fury as she continues to scream at you.

"Scum! How dare you set foot in this noble house, tarnish it with your foul blood — "

Dubh hisses from her crate and your ears ring with the incessant shrieking of the portrait, looking around for a solution when the door to your left suddenly bursts open, and Sirius emerges.

"Shut it, you hag, that's my wife!" he barks, seizing the end of the curtains and pulling it with all his might.

"YOOUU!" the woman howls, eyes wide at the sight of him. "Blood traitor, shame of my flesh, abomination, besmirching my blood line with such filth — "

You grab onto the ends of the curtains and with immense effort, the two of you manage to close the curtains over the screaming woman and a silence falls.

Panting slightly, Sirius sweeps his long hair out of his eyes and looks at you. "Well, I suppose you had to meet your mother-in-law eventually."

Your mouth drops and you stare back at him, a surprised laugh leaving your mouth. "You can't be serious."

He raises his eyebrows, smirking. "Actually, that's exactly who I am — "

You give his arm a soft thump, rolling your eyes. "So funny. Remind me why you didn't go into comedy?"

"Oh, because a woman forced me into marriage and I could not pursue my true comedic dreams."

He pushes open the door he came out of and, gathering your bags and Dubh's crate, you follow him down a flight of stairs and into a large basement kitchen, complete with a blazing fire in the corner and a dusty long table in the middle.

You whistle, placing your things on the table and dusting your hands off on your trousers. When Sirius turns to face you, you grab the collar of his shirt and bring his lips crashing onto yours, kissing him deeply.

After a few moments you pull away, smirking. "Still think I forced you into marriage?"

Sirius blinks, looking back at you, dumbfounded, before laughing. "Definitely not."

You glance around the room, taking in your surroundings. "So...are we going to talk about the portrait of your crazy mother or..."

He sighs, shrugging. "Welcome to my parents' house — the house I grew up in. It's just horrible, isn't it?"

He's not entirely wrong. The house is cold and dark, foreboding and lacking the warmth a home should have.

"Well, it's not very homely, anyway..." you say. "It's screaming pure-blood."

Sirius winces, tracing his fingers over the detailings on an ornate cabinet pushed against the wall. "Yes, but...I'm the last Black left, so it's mine now. I offered it to Dumbledore for headquarters — it's about the only useful thing I've been able to do."

"At least we can be together again," you say softly, offering him a smile. He looks back at you, and then returns it.

"Yes." He places his hands on your hips, drawing you closer, smiling wickedly at you. "I am definitely not complaining about that."

He kisses you fiercely, clashing together in a frenzy of passion and he slowly backs you up until you hit the table, scooping you up and placing you sitting on its surface with ease, lips still locked together. It's everything — it says everything —

"It's been too fucking long," he breathes lowly, trailing a line of kisses along your jaw, then onto your neck. He's right, it has been too long. It's not long before his mouth hits a particularly sensitive spot of your neck and your breath hitches in your throat. You feel his smug smile against your skin.

"Some things never change."

You can't resist the urge to roll your eyes, moaning softly as his strong hands slide under your shirt and run along your sides, gently caressing your skin.

"Oh, shut up."

His hands continue their wandering and his lips find yours again, tangling together as he begins to unbutton your shirt, nimble fingers loosening the top button, then the next, then the next —

Crack!

You jump at the loud noise, and Sirius breaks apart from you to look to the source of the sound — a very old house-elf that's just apparated inside the room with a feather duster in his wrinkly hands.

Your shriek and instantly pull your shirt closed, buttoning back up what Sirius had undone as he straightens up to fix the creature with an angry glare.

"Kreacher! What do you think you're doing?"

So this is Kreacher. Sirius had told you about this particular elf, whose unwavering loyalty to Walburga Black had made Sirius' home life even more unbearable.

Kreacher looks up, fixing his bloodshot eyes on you, and his large nose wrinkles. "I was not aware Master had a guest." Then, head bowed, he mutters very clearly, "What would my Mistress say, allowing such filth into her home..."

Sirius clicks his tongue agitatedly. "You were not aware, really? Did my mother's incessant shrieking not alert you?"

"I had assumed Master was simply distressing her again," Kreacher croaks, making no effort to hide his disdain for Sirius.

"Hello, Kreacher," you say, and then you tell him your name, making sure to emphasise the Black sitting on the end of it.

Kreacher's eyes go wide and he looks at you in shock, before his face twists in disgust. "Black, she says, yet she is no Black I know..."

"This is my wife, Kreacher, and you will treat her as you would any member of my family," Sirius says sternly.

Kreacher scowls at him, his hatred for him evident, before he reluctantly bows to you. "Mistress."

A little taken aback and slightly dazed, you give him a confused nod. "Kreacher."

He shuffles out of the room, exiting through the stairway door and shutting it behind him. Sirius drops his head onto your shoulder, groaning.

"He ruins everything," he says, voice muffled against your clothes. "He did that out of spite, I know it..."

You chuckle, patting his back. "I'm sure he did, hon. Now, aren't you going to show me around?"

Sirius pulls away from your shoulder to raise his eyebrows at you. "Well, I had other plans — "

"Those plans can wait," you say with a knowing smile, kissing his cheek. "I'm not too keen on Kreacher walking in on us again."

Sirius pokes his cheek with his tongue. "It could send him a much-needed message..." he sighs, taking your hands in his and helping you jump off the table, smoothing down your shirt. "Alright, I'll give you a quick tour. Word of warning, though — it's not pretty."

"Wasn't expecting it to be."

You leave the kitchen together and, as quietly as possible, sneak past Mrs Black's portrait in the hall and start to make your way up the stairs. It's dark and gloomy, but Sirius' warm hand in yours pulls you forward through the damp and dust, stopping at a door in the hallway.

"Dining room," he whispers. Then he points to another door opposite. "Study."

Opening the door to the dining room, you're met with the distinct smell of dust and mould permeating the air around you. A long dining table sits in the middle of the room, a fancy glass chandelier hanging over it and an embellished candelabra set upon the middle of the table. Pushed against the opposite wall is a tall wooden cabinet, housing items of fine china. Walking over to it curiously and peering closer, you see the plates, cups, and saucers all bear an identical crest.

"Black family crest," Sirius explains, an edge of bitterness to his voice. "It's on everything."

You drag your finger across the dining table, a long line of dust coating it when you remove it. You study it for a moment. "Has Kreacher really been here since your parents died?"

Sirius nods.

"Doesn't look like it," you say. "The place is practically untouched."

The study is equally as dusty and silent, untouched books lining the bookshelves, the only light in the room coming from your wand, held high to illuminate the room.

Retaking your hand, he pulls you upstairs, passing by a string of detached house-elf heads, stopping at the landing where three doors stand opposite.

He points to each one in turn. "Drawing room, guest bedroom, bathroom."

You follow him to the drawing room as he pushes the flaking wood door open, taking in the destitute room before you. A grand piano sits unplayed in the corner, while two antique settees stand opposite each other in front of a fireplace. A grandfather clock ticks quietly.

You run your finger along the piano keys, the ivories squeaking after so long without use. Covering the entirety of the wall behind it is a large tapestry that catches your eye. Golden thread depicts a sprawling family tree with the names of family members scrawled beneath each head, and written at the top of the tapestry in large gold letters, are the words:

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Toujours Pur

"Ah, the family tree," Sirius says, joining you beside the tapestry. He scans the bottom of it, pointing. "There's my mother and father, and there's Regulus..."

A sad look passes Sirius' face momentarily, but he shakes it away to point at what looks like a burn mark in the fabric, blotting out a member. "My mother must have blasted me off after I ran away, no doubt." He bends closer to the tapestry, raising his eyebrows. "I haven't looked at this in years...look, there's Phineas Nigellus, my great-great-grandfather. Least popular headmaster Hogwarts ever had...and Araminta Meliflua...cousin of my mother's...tried to force through a Ministry Bill to make Muggle-hunting legal...and dear Aunt Elladora...she started the family tradition of beheading house-elves when they got too old to carry tea trays...of course, anytime the family produced someone halfway decent they were disowned."

"Sounds lovely," you remark sourly, running your hand along the fabric. "Oh, Bellatrix and Narcissa..."

Sirius follows your hand to where Bellatrix and Narcissa Black sit on either side of another burn patch. Sirius nods thoughtfully. "That's where Andromeda would have been, Tonks's mother, but she married a Muggle-born."

He straightens back up, looking around the room grimly. "When I ran away, I didn't think I'd ever have to step foot inside this blasted place ever again. Said I'd rather see the house burn to ash before I'd return to it. Well, now look at me..."

You gently take his hand. "I know. Ideally, headquarters would be anywhere else, but...just think of this as an opportunity, Sirius. We can turn this place into a real home, make it feel real and warm. I mean, this drawing room could be beautiful!"

You gesture to the room around you, smiling at him. "We can clean it, change the wallpaper, tune the piano, take down the tapestry...I think it could be really nice."

Sirius looks at you for a moment, smiling affectionately. "It surprises me how optimistic you can be."

You shrug, leaving the drawing room and stepping into the hall once more. "I think we've seen enough hardship to let a dusty old house get the better of us, don't you think?"

He kisses his teeth. "I should let you know that my mother put a permanent sticking charm on that tapestry, by the way — she also put one on her own portrait," he tells you and you groan. "Until I find a way to remove them, I don't think they're going anywhere."

You sigh. "Of course she did."

Sirius directs you through the rest of the house, showing you the many bedrooms and even the master bedroom, where Buckbeak is sleeping soundly.

"Hello, Buckbeak," you say sweetly, stroking his soft feathers once he wakes. "Good to see you again."

Finally, you reach the final floor. Looking to your right, you see a bedroom door with a sign on it reading: Do not enter without the express permission of Regulus Arcturus Black.

You can't help but chuckle, pointing at it and reading it aloud.

"Yes, Regulus was always very picky about who went into his room..." Sirius says, shaking his head. He tugs your arm and you look away from the door, instead facing another one. There's a nameplate on the door saying Sirius.

He pushes open the door, revealing a spacious bedroom. Stepping inside, you take in the incredible amount of Gryffindor banners, posters and such. In the middle of the room is a large bed, and you let out a small laugh at the pictures of motorcycles and Muggle women in bikinis on the wall.

You point to one such picture, smiling teasingly at him. "Should I feel threatened?"

Sirius chuckles, shaking his head. "They don't hold a candle to you, love...but they'll also have to stay because fifteen-year-old Sirius put a permanent sticking charm on them."

"Anything to piss off your parents, huh?" You say, glancing around at the decor — everything that his purist parents would hate. You spot two polaroid photos stuck to the wall and feel your heart warm.

The first is of the four marauders themselves: Sirius stands in the middle with James, their arms around each other and draped over Remus and Peter. They can't be much older than fourteen, young and rosy-cheeked.

"Aw..." you coo, smiling. "You were such babies."

Sirius joins you at the photo, peering closer before he gasps in disgust. "Did my hair really look that bad? I remember it looking far cooler..."

You giggle, eyes passing over the boys' youthful faces. They look so happy.

The second photo is of you and him, lying in the snow together, laughing. Your eyes light up in recognition. "I remember this photo...Bitsy took it! I can't believe you put this up..."

"Well, I did quite fancy you, believe it or not." Sirius smiles lovingly, tapping the photo. "I remember Bitsy taking that. Right after I annihilated you in a snowball fight."

You scoff, turning to him. "Don't lie, I destroyed you in that fight. You were no match for me."

"I seem to remember differently..." he hums, grinning at you.

"Then you remember wrong."

Sirius laughs, pulling you into him and kissing you. "Enough arguing." He leads you towards his bed, gently pushing you down onto the mattress before him. "I recall us having some pressing plans to get on with..."

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

You awake the next morning feeling blissfully content. You think you've just gotten the best sleep of your life. Cracks of sunlight stream in through the slivers of window that aren't covered by curtains. You can hear the gentle rhythm of Sirius' heartbeat thrumming beneath your head as you lie on his chest, his own rising and falling steadily in his sleep. You move your head ever so slightly to look at him.

His face is blissfully peaceful, all tension gone from his features. His dark curls fall across his forehead, tickling his cheeks and jaw. You smile lovingly, feeling your heart warm with affection and happiness. You gently trace the outline of one of the tattoos on his arm — a small lion, for Gryffindor. It's the first tattoo he ever got, when he was around sixteen. Just to anger his parents. It had made you like him even more growing up.

He stirs, eyelids slowly fluttering open and gazing at you through his eyelashes, smiling softly.

"Morning," you whisper.

"Good morning." His voice is low and raspy with sleep. He shifts slightly, lazily drawing shapes across your arm with his hand. "I think that might be the first time I've properly slept since my capture."

You smile. "Me too. I can't explain how good it feels to wake up next to you again."

He hums, rumbling low in his throat as he leans his head down to press his lips against yours languidly.

You feel the weight of the duvet dip slightly, and something light pads along your body. Pulling away from your husband and looking up, you find yourself face-to-face with Dubh, her eyes peering down at you curiously.

You chuckle, scratching her behind the ears. "And good morning to you too, Dubh."

She purrs lightly, sniffing Sirius curiously.

"So this is the cat," Sirius remarks, reaching out to pet her. "My replacement."

Dubh leans into his touch, eagerly looking for more attention off him. She settles between the two of you, curling up against your head, purring contentedly.

You yawn, stretching your legs out under the covers. "Time to get up, Sirius."

He groans, tugging you back as you start to sit up. "Not yet. Let's just stay here for a little longer."

You chuckle, wriggling free of his grip and sitting up. "Dumbledore said there'll be a meeting this evening...we need to get up and make sure the place is clean and tidy."

Sirius doesn't seem to register this, however. "Is that...?"

You look back at him in confusion. "What?"

He points at your back, running his hand down the soft skin. "It's a constellation. And here..." He touches the skin just below your right shoulder-blade, tapping it gently. "A paw print."

You smile. "My favourite constellation, and my favourite star."

He's quiet for a moment, eyes fixed on the tattoo as you slip from the bed, your legs shaking slightly.

"You alright? Are you hurt?" Sirius asks at once, worry clear in his voice. You chuckle light-heartedly, waving your hand dismissively.

"I'm fine, darling. It's just been a long time since I've done that."

You look around the room, eventually locating your bra and underwear that had been thrown carelessly on the floor the previous night.

The pair of you spend the day painstakingly cleaning the basement kitchen, ridding it of wayward doxies and dust bunnies. Dubh is delighted, instantly locating a mouse hole and catching the mouse for herself, dumping her prize at your feet in offering, before promptly eating it when you show no interest in it.

You discover that every portrait in the hall is impossible to remove, courtesy of your darling mother-in-law. The curtains have been closed over her portrait, but a number of times you've walked into the entrance hall to find the curtains pulled back and been hit with a cacophony of screams and screeches, all because Kreacher wanted to talk to his mistress. You've gotten better at forcing the curtains shut.

That evening, despite the aching pain in your back from working all day, you sit down at the table beside Sirius for the meeting, watching as different members of the Order of the Phoenix file into the room after you've just had to go shut Walburga Black up again after someone woke her up upon entering. You spy several familiar faces from the original Order: Mundungus Fletcher, Hestia Jones, Sturgis Podmore, Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle...and a few new members, too: Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mr and Mrs Weasley, along with their two eldest sons, Bill and Charlie.

Remus takes a seat opposite you beside Tonks, whose hair is a bright blue today, and Moody takes a seat on your right, his wooden leg clunking on the floorboards.

You beam at him. "Glad to see you back, sir."

"Aye, it's been a while," he answers gruffly, shifting in his seat. His magical eye swivels in its socket, before fixing on the ceiling above and Moody grumbles angrily, bringing a hand up to the eye. "Damn it — it keeps sticking, ever since that scum wore it — "

With a nasty squelching, sucking sound, he pops out the eye and you grimace.

"Mad-Eye, you do know that's disgusting, don't you?" Tonks says conversationally.

"Get me a glass of water, would you?" Moody asks you, and you stand up from your chair, fetching a glass and filling it with water.

"Cheers," he says when you hand him the glass. He drops the magical eye into the water and prods it up and down with his finger. It spins erratically, looking at each person at the table in turn before Moody seems satisfied, scooping the eyeball out of the water and popping it back into his head.

Dumbledore then arrives, taking a seat at the head of the table, his presence immediately commanding the attention of the room. Chats and murmurs die down and all eyes turn to him.

"Good evening," Dumbledore says, his voice warm but serious. "Thank you all for coming on such short notice. We have much to discuss."

You glance around the table, spotting Snape sitting at the far end, eyeing Sirius scathingly. You look back at Sirius, only to see he's giving him an equally loathing glare back at him.

You sigh and nudge him, bringing your mouth to his ear. "Focus."

"First things first: Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London, will now be our new headquarters. I have placed all the necessary enchantments on the building to avoid detection," Dumbledore says, looking to Sirius. "Thank you for allowing us to use it, Sirius."

"Wasn't going to get much use otherwise," he replies, shrugging.

Dumbledore continues on. "The Ministry remains in denial, though it is not surprising. We must continue to gather intelligence and be prepared for any move he makes."

"What about Harry, Dumbledore? Is he safe?" Molly Weasley asks, her face lined with worry.

"Harry is well-guarded at the Dursleys, but we must remain vigilant. His safety is paramount, and we cannot afford to let our guard down," Dumbledore answers.

You drum your fingers on the table. "Surely it would make the most sense to bring him here with us, right? It would be the easiest way to keep an eye on him."

Dumbledore glances at you, shaking his head. "Harry is to remain with his aunt and uncle until further notice. It's where he is safest."

"But — "

"I understand your concern, but you must trust me on this," Dumbledore says firmly, giving you strong look.

You sigh, relenting. Sirius's hand finds your knee under the table and starts to draw soothing circles on it.

The meeting continues, strategies discussed and plans laid out for the future. Molly and Arthur Weasley plan to move to headquarters for the remainder of the summer with their kids by the end of the week, and you welcome the prospect of more life in this soulless house.

Once the meeting has finally drawn to a close, you sit and chat with Remus and Tonks.

"How's he been?" Remus asks quietly, glancing at Sirius out of the corner of his eye. Sirius is busy in the far corner of the room, talking in hushed voices with Dumbledore. A look of frustration passes over his face, and you can see him struggling to maintain his composure.

"Better," you say softly. "It's nice to finally be living under the same roof again but...this place isn't good for him." You sigh. "And his mother is driving us nuts — constantly screaming and shrieking."

"There's nothing you can do about her portrait?" Tonks says.

You shake your head. "She put a permanent sticking charm on it...haven't been able to find a way to remedy it yet."

"How pleasant," Remus remarks dryly and you chuckle bleakly, nodding.

"Will you ever go back to being an Auror?" Tonks says curiously. "I'm sure Mad-Eye would take you on in an instant."

You look over at Sirius, watching his brows furrow as Dumbledore says something to him.

"I never could," you admit. "Not after running away. Not after acting like such a coward."

Remus says your name sternly. "You are not a coward."

You sink your teeth into the soft flesh of your inner cheek, shaking your head. "I am a coward in every right, Remus, it's just the truth of the matter. But...if I had to do it all over again, I'd make the same choices. Teaching at Hogwarts has given me so much."

You stand up from the table, pushing your chair in with a yawn. Your eyes meet Sirius's across the room as Dumbledore dismisses him with a wave of his hand, walking away from him.

He says your name and you look up. "Thank you for your hospitality, professor."

You smile warmly back at him. "Of course."

Later, as you sit on the edge of your bed (well, Sirius's bed, technically) and pull off your socks, Sirius paces the room angrily.

"He really expects me to just sit here and do nothing? All fucking summer, stay in this stupid house and twiddle my thumbs," he murmurs. "While you and everyone else are out doing something helpful, I'm — I'm what? Sweeping the floor after Snivellus leaves half his greasy head hair here — "

"I know, love, I know," you say, pulling your shirt over your head.

"And after all this, we're not going to get to see Harry until further notice? After all he's been through, all we can do is send letters to him? And we can't even write anything specific?" He runs a hand through his hair, hissing in frustration. "After all Harry's been through, really, making him stay with those horrible Dursleys..."

"What can we do about it?" You say in exasperation. "What Dumbledore says goes, and you know he has a reason for everything — "

"Then why doesn't he tell us the reason? He loves keeping secrets, doesn't he, old Dumbledore?"

You sigh. "He certainly likes to be a man of mystery."

Sirius clicks his tongue crossly, mumbling something inaudible under his breath as he comes to sit on the edge of the bed beside you.

You rub his arm soothingly, leaning your head against his. "It's not all bad. When the Weasleys come to stay, you'll get to meet the twins, Fred and George. Oh, you'll love them, Sirius — always pulling pranks and telling jokes, they're hilarious. They remind me of you and James sometimes."

This, at least, seems to lift his mood slightly, and he gives you a small smile. "Really? So someone's still giving Filch trouble?"

You nod, grinning. "They keep him on his toes, alright."

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

You find you really enjoy having the Weasleys at the house. Mrs Weasley's cooking is divine and you enjoy the chats the two of you have when you help her. You tell her all about James and Lily, telling her the best stories from your school years involving them. Fred and George apparate all over the house, enchanting things that don't need to be enchanted now that they can do magic at home. They've nearly given you about seven heart attacks from popping up randomly right behind you when you're busy. And you were completely right — Sirius loves them. He tells them about pranks that he used to pull with the boys at school, much to Mrs Weasley's disapproval.

"Don't put any ideas in their heads, Sirius!"

Ron and Hermione are here too, and it's odd seeing them without Harry for once. Harry writes you and Sirius letters, each time begging for more information about Voldemort and what's going on and when he can see you again. You sigh as you read the latest one, handing it to Sirius for him to read.

"I wish Dumbledore would just let him come here," you say. "He'll be much happier here with everyone."

Every Order meeting is serious. Snape gives his report on what's happening on Voldemort's side, and often makes snide comments about Sirius being forced to stay in the house and out of trouble. After every meeting, without fail, Sirius comes to you to vent his frustrations about the man.

"Severus," you say as another meeting wraps up and everyone starts to depart from the room. He turns to look at you, his expression cold.

"Yes?"

You motion for him to step away from the others, and he follows you to the corner of the room where you lower your voice.

"Wormtail. You have to tell me what he's up to — "

"I have told you all I know," Snape says flatly.

"There has to be something, anything...Severus, I know I'm asking a lot of you," you say genuinely, eyes flicking to Sirius across the room. "But if Wormtail goes somewhere alone or something, you have to tell me, please. He's the only one that can prove Sirius's innocence."

Snape's eye twitches slightly, his nostrils flaring. You can tell that sticking his back out to prove the innocence of his old enemy does not sound appealing to him.

"The Dark Lord will not ignore the disappearance of his servant. He will know there is a spy."

"Then a find a way to do it without him finding out!" You hiss desperately. "Please, Severus. I know you dislike each other but...Sirius will never have a life again if Peter isn't brought to justice."

Snape's jaw tenses, but after a few moments he gives you the smallest semblance of a nod. "If the opportunity arises...I will see it through."

You can't help the smile that spreads your lips and you nod gratefully. "Thank you. I'll be forever in your debt."

He sweeps wordlessly from the room, leaving a small spark of hope in your heart.

Your duties to the Order consists of tailing known Death Eaters and taking on guard duty over the prophecy just like everyone else. You and Tonks have been tailing a Death Eater by the name of Thorfinn Rowle, watching his movements and engagements closely. After one such night of tailing, the two of you return to Grimmauld Place, exhausted and soaked to the skin by the torrential rain you got caught in.

"Bloody hell..." Tonks murmurs, shaking out her jacket as you make your way past Walburga's portrait. It's late and the basement kitchen is empty, save for Sirius who has patiently waited for your return.

"You stayed up?" You say, kissing his cheek as you pass by to turn the kettle on.

"Of course I did."

Tonks looks between the two of you, an awkward look passing her face. "S'pose I'll get going."

You shake your head, grabbing her hand and sitting her down in one of the nearby chairs. "Nonsense, Tonks, stay. We haven't got the chance to catch up yet!"

You give Sirius a 'get out of here' look and he sighs, standing up from his chair. "So cruel."

You smile sweetly at him as he approaches. "I'll be up later."

He nods, yawning. "I know." He kisses you goodnight before leaving.

Once he's left, you give Tonks a sly look and she looks back at you in confusion as you sit down, sliding a cup of tea across the table to her.

"So, Tonks...are you gonna tell me what's going on between you and Remus?"

She nearly chokes on her drink, shaking her head vehemently. "What? Remus? Me? There's nothing going on."

You raise your eyebrows, unbelieving. "Sure..."

"I — I really don't know what you're implying," she says quickly, smiling awkwardly. "Really, Remus and I are just friends, I respect him as a colleague and a man — "

"I'm not going to snitch on you, y'know." You give her a smile. "That's why I had to get rid of Sirius — he'd tell Remus in an instant. Come on, it's pretty obvious to me. He likes you."

"What? No, come on, be serious," Tonks says. "I mean — we're not kids. He doesn't like me."

"Yeah he does!" You insist, giggling. "You two are cute, honestly. You should see the way he lights up when someone mentions you. He's got it bad."

Tonks' cheeks grow increasingly crimson as she continues to deny. "You're only having a bit of fun with me now."

"I'm not, honest!" You continue. "Seriously, Tonks, it's pretty obvious. I'm surprised you haven't noticed it yet."

She shakes her head, laughing and muttering something under her breath in denial.

"But the real question is...do you feel the same way about him?"

She doesn't answer you for a moment. "Well, like, it's Remus — he's great and he's a good person and I don't know, maybe?" She sighs, wringing her hands. "I...I think he's afraid to flirt with me. We could be laughing and joking one minute and then I'll say something further and he'll just...shut off."

You shake your head in disappointment. "I'm going to be very honest with you — that sounds exactly like him. Once you reciprocate he starts to freak out."

"But how do you know that's not just him being disinterested?"

"Because I know Remus," you answer simply. "He shuts himself away because he thinks being a werewolf renders him undateable. I think you just need to show him that you're not afraid of that side of him, that it doesn't bother you whatsoever, that you're there for him."

She nods thoughtfully. "Yeah, you're right..."

You beam, feeling excited. "Oh, it's been so long since I've played matchmaker! I forgot how good it feels."

Tonks laughs. "You've given this speech to other people before?"

You shrug. "Mostly just James and Lily, honestly. Lily hated the man for half her school years! You don't want to know the amount of work I put into getting them together."

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter twenty-six here!

→ all kinds of interaction appreciated ♡

time skip WARRIOR 😋✊

a massive thank you to my amazing taglist loves for all their support and kindness:

@izuoyarmin @jennifer0305 @idkman5335 @mothraantics @wholelottalove05 @carpe000diem @elanna-elrondiel @hyperspeedo

#sirius black #harry potter #sirius orion black #angst #angst with a happy ending #fanfiction #hp #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #the marauders #fanfic #hp fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #marauders

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kingkatsuki · 2 years ago

Text

Thinking about Bakugou being nervous to introduce you to his family for the first time. And it’s not because he’s embarrassed of you, or worried about what they might think. He already knows his mother will adore you, Mitsuki’s spent so many years chewing his ear off about finding the perfect partner and now he’s done it. And his father will just be happy to see him settled with someone that he loves, Masaru often worrying about his son as the number two hero.

The real reason why Bakugou has never introduced you to his parents is because he likes having you all to himself.

You’re like that safe haven that he returns home to after all the dangers he faces each day at work, the constant that grounds him and makes him happy. It’s selfish really, how he keeps you so close to his chest. And it doesn’t make sense when he starts to realise how upset it makes you that he hasn’t introduced you to his family yet, how he hasn’t let you in to that part of his life. He shared stories with you about his childhood, about his home life, but nothing quite compares to seeing the home and meeting the people who raised him.

“It’s okay, Katsuki.” You hum softly as you take his sweaty palm in your own so tenderly, stopping him from bouncing from toe to toe as you immediately ground him.

The door opening to find both his parents on the other side, his mother almost knocking him to the floor to swoop you into her arms.

“Ah, you must be the beautiful girl my sons been hiding from us for all this time,” Mitsuki captures you in a welcoming hug, while Masaru clamps a reassuring hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, “You know I was starting to think I’d never get grandchildren.”

And now Bakugou wonders what he was ever nervous about.

Watching from the kitchen as his mother lays a photo album on your lap, pointing out photographs of him as a young child, pictures of him dressed as Dynamight, first day of school, Christmases, and first swimming lessons.

“He used to be terrified of water, you know.” Mitsuki grins as she points at a particular picture, “He’s always hated the rain, even to this day.”

“He was so cute,” You coo, letting your fingers run over the smooth plastic covering the photos as you give each one your attention.

“He still would be if he got rid of that scowl,” Mitsuki continued, “And look, this one he refused to put his swimming trunks on so he just ran around the house naked—“

“You old hag,” Bakugou growled from the kitchen, although the words carried no real malice, not anymore. Almost dropping his mug of tea in embarrassment as you laughed beside her, “Not those damn photos.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like she hasn’t seen you naked, you brat.”

“She got the naked ones out again, huh?” Masaru chuckled beside him as he continued to plate dessert.

“Damn woman.” He mumbles beneath his breath, unable to resist your silent plea for him to join you as you raise your hand to beckon him over.

There’s just something special, intimate when Bakugou opens his life up to you like this. He could quite happily keep you to himself, but his family and friends deserve to have you in their lives too. The light that radiates from you deserves to be shared and cherished.

#just being the only one to get this intimate look into the real him? sigh #soft bakugou #bakugou x reader

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francixoxoxo · 4 months ago

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ok I was talking abt growing old with Billy but what abt getting older with FINNICK

Grains of sand are permanently scattered across the linen-brown wooden deck of yours and Finnick’s back porch. Sea-salt is forever scenting your hair, the sea’s rolling waves a soft backdrop to every thought. There wasn’t a better way to make up for time lost, you think. All the years stolen from you are reconciled on the beachside, barefooted and your soles collecting sand and splinters on the deck.

The screen door is slid open, Finnick stepping out, greeted with a gust of sea breeze to rustle his hair, both golden and silver. He’s let it grow out, it’s curling at the ends falling around his chin. There is no more Capitol cameras to remain trimmed for, the stubble dotting his handsome features a further liberty from what had once been expected of him. He still wears that ever-charming smile, though, his eyes crinkling extra as they meet yours. “Honey.” He murmurs, setting a cup of coffee down on the table in front of you with a clink. A hand threads into your hair, Finnick nestles a lingering and firm kiss to your head.

“Morning.” You hum in reply, watching as he sits in the open beach chair. He sips his own coffee before putting it down, those sea green eyes lifting to meet yours again. A silent, faint smile pulling at his lips, creasing his face. Oh, he’d aged like fine whiskey, your Finnick. “What?” You’d laughed lightly, making your husband shake his head.

“You look so beautiful in the morning.” Finnick breathes, his voice disbelieving and reverent as his smile cracks wider across his face. His cheeks had always been freckled, but spots from age and sun are appearing on his arms, his neck, his hands. Only he could make age look handsome, you thought.

“You kidding?” You huff, looking out at the sea and reaching for your mug. You certainly haven’t felt beautiful lately. Every reflective surface feels like an insult, a punch to the gut. Since when have the creases ‘round your eyes been so deep, the wrinkles in your brow so defined, the lines of your smile so prevalent? Spots have been appearing, much like the ones on your husband, but why were they so unseemly compared to how handsome he looked? “I look so..”

Finnick scoffs right back at you, though that charming grin is unfaltering, his forehead creasing as he draws his brows. “Happy? Calm? Glowing? Sorry for my bad vocabulary, but I think beautiful works.” You can only roll your eyes.

“No! I look so old.” You groan. Your gaze settles on the sea, the tentative blue endless and infinitely soothing. It was where you belonged. Without a doubt, residing on the beachside with your husband beside you was the calmest you’d been since the revolution. Since birth, maybe. But where the sea was infinite and ever-flowing, you were not. You were fickle. Age was catching up to you, and it was terrifying, frankly.

Finnick finds your hand with his sun-spotted one, twining your fingers with a low and thoughtful hum. “Honey, I think you look great.” He shrugs, lifting his brows and turning his lips down. “Why’s old such a bad thing to be? I’m old. You think I’m a hag too?”

“You aren’t a hag!” You can’t stifle the laughter bubbling from your lips. A grin grows on Finnick’s face, golden and beaming in that charming way of his, something you had the blessing of having all to yourself nowadays. Your Finnick didn’t need to be shared with the Capitol anymore. His hand squeezes yours as that expression falls, melts away into something more sincere as his eyes lower. He shakes his head a bit, not at you, not at anything, frankly. Perhaps at the absurdity of it all.

“If they had it their way we wouldn’t have lived past fifteen.” Finnick murmurs, suddenly pensive. His brows draw, creasing his tanned forehead. You don’t need to ask who they are.

Here was Finnick, plagued by the worst of the world, the worst of the system; and still, here he was, barefoot on his back porch, wrinkles on his face and sunspots on his skin. Happy. The older he was, the further the distance twixt him, and the pain. The firmer proof that it hadn’t killed him. His calloused and fishhook-bitten thumb brushes over your knuckles as his gaze lifts to meet yours again. “I like to think it’s something to brag about, lasting long enough to get grays and wrinkles.”

It takes a moment for it to all sink in. Your face turns to the water, your nostrils flaring to allow in the scent of sea salt. Finnick’s eyes never waver from you. “…That’s a nice way to think of it.” You admit, softly. He nods, a grin splitting his face once again and filling the gap with sunshine.

“Just an old man’s wisdom.” Finnick hums, turning up his chin with the joke, a quiet chuckle rumbling from his chest at the sound of your laughter. Oh, time wasn’t the only thing that’d healed his wounds. Your body next to his eased the ache in his bones; your smile reminding him of his own ability to grin. Your love kept his hearth lit. This was your happy ending, as corny as that was, but after the fresh Hell you’d lived through, you thought it was justified.

After a moment, you snort, “We’re still old.” Finnick grunts in agreement. A glance is shared.

You two fall into a bout of laughter, your fingers squeezing your husband’s. Who raises a brow and tells you, “Well, you’re the hottest old lady ever.”

#I don’t know how to feel #finnick x you #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick odair angst #finnick imagine #finnick odair imagine #thg finnick #the hunger games #thg #finnick odair fanfic #hunger games finnick #finnick fanfic

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thiriann · 4 months ago

Text

How to shut up a wizard

You can also find me on AO3

A short smutty oneshot

Rating: Explicit

Words: 2.6k

Pairing: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character

Warnings: 18+, Vampire Spawn Astarion, Dom Astarion , Established Relationship, Shameless Smut, Face-Fucking, Blow Jobs, Rough Oral Sex, Oral Fixation, one shot

Summary:When he brought his gaze back to Thiriann’s face she was looking sheepishly at him, awaiting his response. “Don’t you think so?” She repeated, worried she’d rambled on for too long. A sense of guilt rushed over him for not paying attention. Although, that did give him an idea. “But of course!” He replied confidently. It was evident from Thiriann's puzzled face that it was not the correct response. "You know darling..." He began as he straightened up from where he had been leaning on the wall and lazily strolled up to her. "... I could find other uses for this pretty little mouth of yours." He said as he ran his thumb over her lower lip. "If you're in the mood to exercise your oral diction, of course."

Wizards and their damn mouths.

It seems they were all verbose. Or just had an uncanny affection to hearing their own voice. Normally, Astarion would be the talkative one in their relationship. But sometimes when inspiration hit her, Thiriann would really let her inner wizard shine. She didn't talk as much as Gale, thank the gods for that, but at some points, he found he couldn't even get a breath in.

"...And it typically consists of three hags - a Green Hag, a Sea Hag and a Night Hag. But... I've already told you that haven't i?"

" Yes, you have, darling."

" Sorry. It's just, I read today that a coven of three Night Hags is also possible as well as a coven consisting of only two. "

“Fascinating.” Astarion replied, rolling his eyes playfully. “Why exactly are we here again? This place is vile.”

Astarion complained crinkling his nose as he looked around the now former lair of Auntie Ethel. Her cauldron lay in the corner, smelling of things he didn’t even want to imagine and bones from various creatures were scattered all over the place. There were also fungi growing out of the walls but their eerie glow gave the place an almost ethereal feeling, reminding him a bit of their time in the Underdark.

“It is.” Thiriann agreed “But it hosts spores of Ethel's mushrooms. Ones which stubbornly prevented her from dying.”

“She had imbued them with her life force and I have the horrible feeling there might be more out here.” She said as she lifted a half-destroyed mushroom to eye level to inspect its glow.

“But for now, if we can examine this mushroom and its properties, possibly even cultivate it, it might bring forth untold knowledge.” Sometimes her resemblance to Gale frightened him.

Luckily, he had stopped listening at some point after learning the hag could still be alive. The old broad was truly stubborn so it wouldn’t be surprising at all. He stared at her kneeling on the floor organizing the vials in her bag, her voice slowly fading into the background. He didn't know why she bothered, they were bound to succumb to disarray one way or another. His eyes darted up and down her body, admiring her silhouette. His imagination wandered to something far more enjoyable they could be doing together.

When he brought his gaze back to Thiriann’s face she was looking sheepishly at him, awaiting his response. “Don’t you think so?” She repeated, worried she’d rambled on for too long.

A sense of guilt rushed over him for not paying attention. Although, that did give him an idea.

“But of course!” He replied confidently. It was evident from Thiriann's puzzled face that it was not the correct response.

"You know darling..."

He began as he straightened up from where he had been leaning on the wall and lazily strolled up to her.

"... I could find other uses for this pretty little mouth of yours."

He said as he ran his thumb over her lower lip.

"If you're in the mood to exercise your oral diction, of course."

Her eyes widened and he smirked in self-satisfaction for being able to shock her into shutting up. A hungry look took over her face as she sucked in a breath, her eyes never leaving his and a shiver of excitement ran up his body.

Oh? She wanted to play after all.

This was new, they never did this. The few times she had performed oral on him after they'd reintroduced sex into their relationship had never been like this. She briefly wondered if you could annoy someone into sex. Concern seeped into her but as she searched his eyes she saw genuine interest. Maybe the idea of gagging her actually appealed to him. Thiriann felt she should have been offended at that but all she wanted in that moment was to preen that she'd managed to arouse him. Astarion had struggled with leading in these types of situations before, ones that involved him taking his own pleasure and she wanted to watch him let go and enjoy himself as he followed his desires. Instead of answering she just opened her mouth and took a broad sweep of her tongue over his thumb.

He gasped quietly as the sensation of her tongue over his digit went straight to his groin, almost as if she was licking his member directly.

Her eyes grew dark and predatory at the sound he made, and he felt his cock hardening trapped by his trousers against his thigh. There was something very wrong about how much that look on her excited him but he’d have enough time to think on that later.

Unable to resist an invitation, he pushed his thumb further into her mouth, exploring it, dragging the tip of it across her teeth. She had fangs too even if they were smaller. That knowledge always brought a strange sense of kinship in him. She accepted her fangs like no more than a part of her, maybe he could do the same with his own one day.

She wrapped her lips tightly around his finger and sucked, effectively drawing him out of his reverie. On a wicked whim, he grasped her tongue between his fingers and gently pulled it out. It kept on going, stretching further than he'd imagined.

Surprise flashed across his face, but she just smirked, or as much as she could smirk with her mouth hanging open, and winked at him.

With a swift motion, he released her tongue and began to hastily undo his breeches, relishing in watching her hungrily track his hands. When he finally pulled out his cock her eyes lit up, glowing brighter than ever and she moaned at the sight alone.

He breathed a laugh and started stroking himself with the hand that was now sufficiently coated in her drool. He wasn’t fully hard yet so he took his sweet time teasing himself while watching her, anticipating her reaction.

To his delight, while her eyes locked onto his, burning with desire, her body remained perfectly still, waiting for him to do as he wished. More of her drool dripped down her tongue and onto the floor, literally salivating for his cock.

He felt almost lightheaded, the sight proving far more arousing than he expected.

Stroking himself faster, he felt her warm breath over his member as she started to pant in her own excitement.

“Oh, you poor dear, you look positively starved. Would you like a taste, darling?” he teased in an innocent voice.

She nodded, gently and honestly. Her earnestness made his heart clench despite his arousal.

He took the hand he’d been stroking himself with off his length and pushed two fingers deep into her waiting mouth. She let out a debaucherous groan at the taste of him, as though his flavor alone brought her to bliss. She tried to suck on his digits despite her tongue still lolling out of her mouth and he throbbed at the sensation. He started thrusting his fingers in and out of her, gently at first but growing rougher as his patience was waning. This little game of his was as teasing for him as it was for her.

He expected her to cough and sputter by now, but she just kept taking him deeper and deeper. Finding himself at the end of his rope, he pulled his fingers out of her warm mouth but refused to lose his composure entirely. Not just yet anyway.

“Now, now, darling. You’ll have to open wider than that if you want to get more than a taste.”

Astarion lifted her chin with his hand and opened her mouth. Grasping his cock, he ran it slowly across her tongue, shuddering at the feeling of its wet, velvety texture against his aching member. He repeated the action, sliding deeper into her mouth.

It wasn’t enough, there wasn’t enough friction or any suction, but the teasing sensation felt delicious. He didn’t expect to enjoy dragging things out so much.

He was so used to mechanically performing the steps of the horizontal dance without stopping to actually truly feel what was happening, to consider whether it was something he enjoyed or not that even something as simple as this felt so novel. But the other times had never really been about him, what he wanted had never mattered. Until now.

The open adoration and affection he saw in Thiriann's lust-glazed eyes as she sat there staring at him, made him feel as if he was the only thing that did matter.

Her tongue rolled against his sack, grabbing his attention. How long was that appendage exactly? Or had he simply been prodding her throat deeper than he realized?

She dragged it over him again and he shivered.

"Oh, you want to play, darling? Have you grown bored?" She shook her head as much as she could, momentarily alarmed.

"Don't worry, I'll let you have your fun, "he said pulling out of her mouth completely.

"Show me what you can do. Indulge."

She made a show of licking her lips seductively before taking him to the hilt with one smooth motion that had his knees buckling. Stumbling he managed to find purchase on the wall behind him.

“Hells, that feels-” Astarion gasped out, grasping one of her horns. She held onto his thighs, further steadying him. It would have been rather embarrassing if it didn’t feel so goddamn good.

Her eyes suddenly blazed as she spurred into action and started licking him eagerly. Finally, she could wrap her lips around him and taste every inch of him. She pointed her tongue as much as she could and licked over his slit, gathering all of his precum before swallowing it greedily. She hummed around him in satisfaction and the vibration brought a new wave of pleasure that had him bucking his hips into her mouth. Seeing Astarion like this, his head thrown back and eyes shut in pleasure was almost too much to handle and she rubbed her legs together desperate for any kind of friction.

She sucked lightly at first, lathing the head with lavish tongue sweeps before taking him in her throat only to retreat and focus on his tip once again.

At the feel of her teeth gently grazing his member, Astarion’s hips stuttered, and a small cry left his lips.

The change of intensity was maddening, and he bit his lip trying to stave off more embarrassing sounds threatening to escape.

“Cheeky little – Ah!” She swallowed around him and his voice hitched into a moan as he tried to cuss.

Despite the onslaught of pleasure, Astarion tried to focus his eyes on her once again.

He would gladly etch in his memory the sight of her piercing eyes as she gazed at him with her mouth obscenely stretched around his length.

She reached for his free hand, dragging her thumb over his knuckles gently before putting it on her other horn, wordlessly encouraging him to take control or maybe giving him something to hold on to while he was getting completely unraveled by her.

Before this, he’d always let her set the pace when she was using her mouth on him. She’d insisted on being romantic about it, making it about his pleasure, making sure he felt cherished and adored. And now she was doing it again but by giving him control entirely, completely giving herself to him. The intoxicating power of such absolute trust was almost overwhelming.

He moved tentatively at first pulling her back a little before gently thrusting his hips into the heat of her mouth, testing her limits. He wasn’t sure what they were yet but by the way she was taking him to the hilt, it seemed she either had no gag reflex or was using some sort of tiefling magic. Slowly, the mage took more and more, until the tip found the back of her throat. Repressing a cough, she swallowed around the head, eliciting a loud moan from him and he decided he didn’t care which one it was as long as she did it again.

When he felt her throat relax around his member, he started to pick up a rough pace, burying himself further with each back and forth. She felt exquisite around him, tight and welcoming, her practiced tongue moving in rhythm to press against his cock and that realization alone made him dizzy with want.

He could feel her nose working hard to take deep breaths while her mouth was so occupied. The little sounds that emitted from her were getting interrupted every time he pushed in deep.

Ah, so this really was the way to shut up a wizard.

She could feel the tension in his body, the small, involuntary twitches beneath her hands ignited a wildfire of desire within her as his movements became sharper and faster. His taste on her tongue and his scent surrounding her were more intoxicating than the finest wine. A quiet moan left his lips at every thrust. It was as if the closer he got to his bliss, the more he tried to remain silent.

“Darling, I’m so close. You’re going to make me-” Astarion gasped, his voice rough as gravel.

She responded by hollowing her cheeks and sucking and it was more than enough to send Astarion hurtling over the edge.

He got impossibly bigger in her mouth and with a final deep thrust she felt him twitch against her tongue before shooting deep into her throat. Astarion threw his head back, his eyes sliding shut as wave after wave of bliss washed over him.

His taste lingered on her tongue, metallic and salty, she could see herself getting addicted to it, especially when he looked like that after. He was still gasping quietly, his knees trembling in the aftershocks. Thiriann pulled him down gently, and he collapsed willingly into her lap. Her fingers traced soothing patterns over his back as he nestled against her, trying to catch a breath he didn’t need. The scent of her hair, a mix of forest and smoke, filled his senses. His arms wrapped tightly around her, his head resting comfortably on her collarbone.

“Gods, that was…” he whispered into her neck, still panting, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers down her spine.

“Good?” she asked, her voice soft and searching.

"Very good," he breathed, a laugh escaping his lips before pulling away slightly. "Just give me a moment, and we'll take care of you as well."

"You don't have to," she replied, her voice low. "We've been gone a while; we should be getting back."

He looked over her flushed face, she was still breathing heavily and he could smell the arousal on her. But she was right, with some slight embarrassment he could admit they'd gotten rather carried away, especially him. The others were bound to fall upon them soon.

“You're right.” He sighed “But maybe tonight we could spend some time by ourselves? Once everyone's turned in for the night.”

“I’d like that,” she said smiling shyly before leaning into him.

He pressed his forehead to hers enjoying the little intimate gesture they’ve made a habit of doing.

“ARE YOU QUITE ALRIGHT?”

Both Thiriann and Astarion jumped at Gale’s voice echoing through the tadpole link.

“Until a minute ago we were perfectly fine, thank you” Astarion responded somehow managing to hiss even through the mental connection.

"We've had this parasite for months, how hasn't he learned to use it yet?" Astarion continued, his voice rising in exasperation.

Thiriann just shrugged. The fact that their companions had chosen to use the tadpole instead of coming physically meant they had most likely overheard their activities. Hopefully, they’d have the good sense not to bring it up. Well, maybe except Karlach…

“We should probably get back now.” She said despite not moving in the slightest.

“One more minute.” He whispered after a beat before leaning into her.

She smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "As many as you need."

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #astarion x thiriann #bg3 smut #smut #astarion smut #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #my fanfiction #fanfic

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months ago

Note

Hello Miss Raven!✨💕

I would like to ask you for an imagine/scenario or character interaction with Crewel and Vil (platonic ofc), where they talk about fashion and everything like the queens they are and they just always have the hottest tea! Talking about the school etc.

It's a casual fic idea without any angst or things like that, maybe somewhere along the way they start talking about Yuu who's Vil's friend, that he has a bit of a crush on? It may start at the Vil's alchemy lesson or smth-

Anyways, the main focus is hot tea between the fashion queens🙏👑 Thank you!💖

This interaction takes place after the events of book 6, so there will be spoilers for that.

I kept the “Vil has a crush on Yuu” element out of this particular interaction since I didn’t find it super relevant 💦 I want the focus of this blog event to be Crewel and his relationships with others. Maybe if the interaction had been posed like Vil coming to Crewel for love advice (since Crewel is a trusted adult for him), it could have fit better. Either that, or I’d advise waiting for more generalized writing requests to open ^^

If he doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will.

“Crewel-sensei.”

He turned at the call of his voice. “Schoenheit.”

Vil, dressed in his labwear, approached. A beaker of a bubbling substance carefully was ferried in his gloved hand, which he offered to his instructor. “The Peddler’s Disguise is done. You may evaluate it for its quality.”

Crewel accepted the potion, gently swirling it to test the viscosity and noting the color.

“It was brewed with mummy dust, black of night, an old hag’s cackle, and a scream of fright. I then churned over high heat with a blast of wind and a thunderbolt.”

"You've memorized the recipe. Excellent work." Crewel set the beaker down on a lab bench and marked off Vil's name on a clipboard. "You're making up for lost time at a record pace."

"Of course. There is no excuse for falling behind," Vil insisted, tossing his blonde hair over one shoulder.

Crewel quirked a brow. "Not even being kidnapped? How strong-minded of you. I was surprised when you came to me asking to hit the ground running with makeup classes upon your return.”

He looked Vil up and down. “You remain put-together for someone who has gone through an event most would consider unsettling. Is it your PR training keeping you cool in the public eye?”

Vil folded his arms. "... If you're trying to be subtle with your worries, then you're doing a poor job of it, sensei.”

"And is there a problem with a teacher having concern for his student?”

“No, not at all.” A smirk flickered onto Vil’s lips. “Then shall we drop the pretenses? Though so bear in mind that I am under a strict NDA, so I can only divulge so many details.”

“Let’s,” Crewel agreed. “I presume you cannot share the bulk of your harrowing experience.”

Vil nodded. “But fortunately, I can tell about the worst of it… The atrocious lack of attention to self care!!”

“Our school uniforms were taken away and we were made to wear the same sterile grey uniforms every day. Threads as thin as hospital gowns, collared like misbehaved mongrels… Why, it was the worst injustice I faced in that facility.

“Not only that, but the air in the enclosure was stale and terribly drying.” Vil patted his cheek and shuddered at the memory. “It wreaked havoc on my skin.

“Worse still was that I was denied access to any skincare products and cosmetics! I was told that they were a safety hazard and to ‘rinse off with water and soap and go bare faced for a while, what are you aggro’ing about’!! Can you believe the GALL?! I was just about ready to let the staff have my wrath.”

Vil paused, taking a breath to calm himself. “… I was only saved thanks to a gaggle of nosy potatoes and a certain huntsman.”

“Speaking of, Hunt caused quite the stir at school when he vanished. Pomefiore was already suffering without its dorm leader and expected its vice dorm leader to step up fill that role in your stead… but with Hunt mysteriously gone, Pomefiore was without anyone in charge.”

“As I rightfully scolded him for.” Vil sighed deeply. "I was informed that Trein-sensei served as acting headmaster while the situation was unfolding. How did he address the issue of Pomefiore's missing leadership?"

"You're looking right at him," Crewel replied with a dry laugh. "I was called in to supervise the dormitory on top of my usual teaching duties. It seems the old man... excuse me, I mean my esteemed colleague, decided to put his faith in his favorite ex-troublemaker. Who was I to deny him?

"For the time Hunt and his rescue squad were away, I stayed at Pomefiore and kept watch over its students. What a mess—there are hardly time for my personal upkeep, nor a moment to steal away and seek the comfort of my beloved dogs... My clothes were horribly creased and my hair unkempt when the news first broke of your return.”

"What a harrowing tale of sacrifice. I apologize for the inconvenience my vice dorm leader imposed on you. He'll be getting another earful from me.”

“Hmph, no need. Though it was an inconvenience at the time, I am glad to see that you’ve come back to us safe snd sound. Perhaps it is not so bad for you pups to act selfishly every now and again.”

“Oh? Careful, Crewel-sensei. We may just take that as the green light to behave even more selfishly.”

“Then I will be there to keep you in line."

"Is that so? I'll be holding you accountable to that promise."

"And I'll be holding you accountable for your dorm's students," Crewel promised with the same ease as Vil.

There was a mutual understanding between them, the same spark set in their eyes. Teacher and student, fashionista and fashionista.

Together, they radiated an overwhelming aura.

#twisted wonderland #twst #Divus Crewel #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #Vil Schoenheit #book 6 spoilers #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #It's Raining Crows and Dogs

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princess-of-thebes-1995 · 9 months ago

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Lowly Desires Remake Drabble. Part 1

Yandere Gellert Grindelwald x Female Muggle and younger Reader.

You sighed and saw the fog come out of your breath. It was cold as ever in the cellar you chained.

How long have you been kidnapped by that ugly old man? You remembered being taken away at the airport. You were about to be picked up by your parents. You have never seen them since.

“I dreamed a dream in time gone by

When hope was high and life worth living…”

The beauty of your face matched your lovely voice whether singing or speaking. Pure and clear.

No wonder why your “master” would refer to you as princess and “Muggle”. You didn't know what that meant. But you knew it was degrading. And if he was angry as in a bad mood or impatient with your attitude as you tried to stop him from raping your ass. He would call you slut and bitch a lot.

You rolled your eyes. You don't remember offending him. Why does he hate you so much? He kept saying how he will kill you. But, he still won't do it. He should be bored of you by now. He took your virginity. The first time he entered your college dorm as you were unpacking for your first year.

Then he left. You quit college to tell your parents what happened. But, he came back and kidnapped you. You resisted at first and fought. But he would use a magic wand and his strength to torture you. You realized that magic was real. And Muggle must mean someone like you who cannot do magic.

It was odd. He kept being racist to you. But he just couldn't keep himself from touching you. If you were so bad and low as he said you were. Why can't he leave you alone or kill you already?

That confused you.

You were scared to die and begged to not be killed. But, he tortured you mentally so hard that you not only lost interest to live but wanted to die. You got nightmares and knew life wouldn't be the same even if he let you go. Broken. Damaged beyond repair.

Old hag. You felt old inside despite being only 18. What have you become? An old witch.

Life has killed the dream I dreamed.

Then he came. A man with ice cold eyes and an undercut entered your cell and grabbed you after using his wand to free you from your chains.

He didn't speak but he pushed you inside a bathroom. He ordered you to bathe or else.

Were you going somewhere? Home?

Maybe you should give it a try to start a normal life.

You did as you were told and then saw a dress. A long sequined and green mermaid style dress. Expensive. A party?

Suddenly, the dress inserted itself on you by itself and your hair was styled to a professional updo. The man from before once again grabbed you and led you to a waiting limousine outside what appeared to be a grand estate.

You were in a cell of a mansion the whole time?

You knew your capturer was rich because of his expensive suits whenever he visited you in the cell.

But, this was a castle. Ancient too.

“The Master will meet us at the grand party.” The man sat next to you and ordered the driver to start.

You inwardly groaned. What does that ugly old man want now?

Please ignore the size and race of that lady. I needed to find an emerald sequined dress on Pinterest

#harry potter #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts 3 #gellert grindelwald #gellert Grindelwald x reader #mads mikkelsen #mads mikkelsen x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere Gellert Grindelwald x reader #fantastic beasts Secrets of Dumbledore

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pollymorgan · 5 months ago

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Ex-husband Negan Part 5

Warnings: An asshole named Negan and a woman who can't get over him.

Luckily, nothing serious happened to David, except maybe the scare of his life. Negan really pulled himself together. Maybe he has finally become sensible. I had actually given up hope.

When my daughters miraculously went to school on time and Negan left the house with them, I took a deep breath.

What had happened in the last few hours?

I really feel that as soon as my ex-husband is near me for longer than five minutes, he throws my whole life into absolute chaos.

Inevitably, I had to think about the last night and my pulse immediately accelerated. It was just madness. This man still knows my body better than I do. No one can touch me the way he does. Instantly, I felt that tingling in my stomach again. That damn feeling that has often led me into misery.

19 years ago

Even though I had left my old home eight years ago to build my own life in New York, I kept in touch with my best friend Harper. Harper and I spent our entire school years together, and our connection never broke despite the distance. We used to be a trio, but Scarlet unfortunately became one of the main reasons why I had moved away so hastily.

God, I was so stupid back then not to recognize the signs and always make excuses for Negan and her. But sometimes you are so blinded that you only realize it when you see it with your own eyes.

The fact that Harper has been dating Negan's best friend Simon for a few years was, admittedly, really strange for me at first. After all, I tried with all my might to erase Negan from my life, but by now we had been separated for ages and the anger had subsided over the years. The anger, yes, but unfortunately not all the other feelings I felt towards him. If I was honest with myself, I immediately compared every new man in my life to him. Even though I didn't want to, I thought so often about our time together. Everything reminded me of him, even though I lived in a completely different city, but you can't run away from feelings.

Whenever Harper happened to mention something about Simon and Negan during our hours-long phone calls, I immediately became quiet and absorbed every piece of information. Of course, I never asked directly, my pride was too great for that, but it seemed that this guy would remain my weakness forever.

This is also how it came about that Harper invited me to her birthday. I was very excited for the house party at her place and took a few days off to fly to my old city.

After we were both incredibly excited on the phone that I would be able to follow her invitation, Harper suddenly became quite serious at the other end.

"Negan will be there too..." she said calmly.

Immediately I was speechless. Why would he show up there? After all, it's my best friend's birthday, not Simon's. I cleared my throat briefly, but then I absolutely did not want to spoil their, or my, mood.

"Yes, of course... it's totally okay! I'm looking forward to seeing him again after so long... Oh man, we were teenagers and now you're already 28, you old hag..." I joked, even though I didn't feel like joking at all, thinking about my ex-boyfriend who had broken my heart in such a brutal way.

"Yes, yes ..first get to my age! At 27, you still talk so easily." Harper countered.

Until the day of the party, I managed to push the thought of seeing Negan again out of my mind. However, when I rang her doorbell, the nervousness crept up on me. Is he already there? How will he react to me? And how will I react to him? Does he still think about me sometimes? Does he even miss me occasionally?

When Harper greeted me with the words that I was the first guest, a weight was lifted off my shoulders. Of course, postponed is not canceled, but in that moment I felt a strange relief.

We embraced joyfully and I congratulated her from the bottom of my heart. Then I handed her a bottle of her favorite Prosecco and a self-made voucher for a weekend in New York. She had wanted to visit me so many times, but the plans always failed and in the end, I was always the one who visited.

The greeting with Simon was a strange mix of a handshake and a hug, so I was glad when Harper asked me if I could help her in the kitchen.

It was my first visit to the two of them since they had moved into a shared apartment. The whole thing was really strange for me, everything seemed so adult, almost bourgeois. Not at all like I knew her. Okay, we had grown up, but somehow time seemed to have stood still for me. Since I went to New York at the age of 19, not much had changed in my lifestyle. Except that I had a steady job and earned my own money.

Harper's kitchen was full of modern appliances, while at home, I was happy if I could find a sharp knife.

But before we started preparing the rest of the food, Harper opened us two beers and within seconds, everything was just like old times. We joked and laughed about the most trivial things, and soon the first guests arrived. The doorbell kept ringing, and then Simon opened the door to let the next ones in. People would then show up in the kitchen after a few seconds, congratulating my friend on her birthday. Some of them I knew from before, while others were new acquaintances, mainly her coworkers. Mentally, I tried to match the names to the stories that Harper had told me during one of our phone conversations.

Superficially, I played it cool, but inside, I was boiling. A thousand times, I played in my mind how I would react if Negan walked in through the door. I kept envisioning that one scene that made me startle every time the doorbell rang.

I opened another beer and then helped Harper set up the buffet. The salads were piling up, she had prepared so much. Everything was planned down to the smallest detail. The color scheme of the decor matched, and the dishes were all from the same brand.

With my arms crossed on my hips, I admired everything. "Wow, I have to say, you've really become the perfect housewife, while I..."

"While you still have the hottest ass in all of America... Damn, just look at her. God bless America!" a very familiar voice interrupted me.

Amidst all the commotion around us, I hadn't even noticed that Negan had entered the kitchen. Being surprised by his presence made it even harder. I took a deep breath and then turned with a smile on my face to face him.

He was already so close to me that there was barely any space between us, and his face put on that typical grin. I hadn't seen him in so long, but his green-brown eyes looked familiar to me. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss on my cheek.

I literally inhaled his scent, a mixture of rugged aftershave, cigarette smoke, and his own unique scent. Instead of letting go immediately, he held me much longer than necessary, and I was frozen in his arms.

"It feels unbelievably great to finally feel you so close again..." he whispered in my ear, and I immediately got goosebumps all over my body.

None of the prepared lines came out of my mouth.

He hadn't forgotten how to charm me, if anything, he seemed to have perfected it.

I stared at him wordlessly until he suddenly leaned in even more. Bewildered, I evaded him, and he grabbed one of the beer bottles that were right behind me.

Amused by my reaction, he winked at me and clinked his bottle against mine. Then he disappeared into the living room. Suddenly, a former classmate approached me and hugged me to greet me. She immediately started talking a mile a minute, but I couldn't follow her words as I kept thinking about the recent situation with Negan.

Some time passed before we all decided to move to the living room. Negan and Simon were standing by the window, smoking a cigarette. I tried my best not to stare at him constantly, but I caught myself doing it repeatedly.

Harper introduced me to Daniel, one of her coworkers. The three of us sat down with a few others at the living room table. The conversation was already in full swing, so it was easy for me to just join in.

I was in the middle of telling the others about the most unique restaurants in New York when I suddenly felt someone sit next to me on the couch. Without looking, I could tell it was Negan. Immediately, my heart rate increased, but I tried not to show it and continued talking.

Negan started a conversation with Daniel, who was still sitting next to me, so I leaned further forward so they could talk better. Negan leaned even closer behind my back to his conversation partner, and suddenly, I felt his hand on my hip. A bolt of electricity shot through my body, but I tried not to show it. As if that wasn't enough, my t-shirt had ridden up slightly in this position, and Negan began gently stroking the bare skin of my back with his thumb. God, how I had missed this feeling. I pushed all doubts aside and just focused on his tender touch and what it was doing to me.

It was only when I heard my name that I was snapped out of my trance.

"What?" I asked, startled, looking at Negan, who straight ened and then smiled knowingly at me.

"The beer at Dawson's is a disaster..." he laughed.

I leaned back against the couch and then looked at Daniel.

"Oh yes, terrible... gave me the hangover of my life," I tried to somehow join the conversation.

"That was probably more about the quantity than the quality..." Negan noted amusedly and reached for my thigh. His hand stayed there for the next while, until I loudly declared that I needed to visit the restroom and disappeared there.

Upon reaching the bathroom, I straightened up in front of the mirror and looked at my reflection questioningly. Where was all of this leading? I didn't have an answer.

As soon as I opened the door to go back, Negan was standing right in front of me. Lost in my thoughts, I bumped into him.

"Hey... not so hasty! Is it already midnight, or why are you in such a hurry, Cinderella?" he said, holding my upper arms.

"Would you search for me if I lost my shoe?" I asked, looking at him inquisitively.

"I may not be a damn prince, but fuck, honey. I would turn the whole world upside down to find you..." he replied.

I'm not sure if I was the one who took a step back, or if he led me back to the bathroom, but suddenly we were there. Negan closed the door behind him and locked it, not taking his eyes off me.

"And what would you do when you find me?" I asked innocently, nervously biting my lower lip.

Negan pulled me towards him abruptly and kissed me just as passionately.

"Exactly this..." he whispered into my open mouth before our tongues touched. In that kiss lay all the desire and the incredible longing that had been dormant in me for the past years. I clutched onto the hair at the back of his head as if I never wanted to let go.

Slowly, my mouth traveled along his jaw, his beard pleasantly scratching my lips, and when I touched his neck, I felt his Adam's apple slightly vibrate.

"I was such a damn idiot..." he now whispered softly.

"Oh yes, you were... I think now would be the right time to make things right..." I said, as I was already undoing the belt of his pants.

Negan grinned at me, "If we stay in here any longer, everyone outside will know what we've been up to in here."

"Very good..." I said with a smile and was about to kneel down, but he stopped me.

"Stop, we don't have time for that now..." as he said that, he turned me around so that my back was to him, then crossed his arms in front of me and pulled me close to him. The feeling of his strong body made me even more unrestrained.

"Baby, believe me, I'll do anything you want, but first, I just need to feel your sweet pussy around my cock... I've missed you so incredibly much..." he growled in a deep voice directly into my ear and pushed me towards the washing machine, until I eventually leaned against it.

The lower arm of his left arm landed on my back and gently pushed my upper body down. While holding me in this position, with his right hand, he pulled down my jeans and underwear, and I excitedly helped him until they were hanging around my knees, presenting Negan with my naked behind. His hand traveled up the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, and I spread my legs as much as I could. Then his flat hand landed directly on my center. Gently, he ran his fingers through my folds, and just the feeling made me moan.

"Please, I need your cock..." I pleaded.

With the hand that had just touched my most intimate area, he gave me a light spank on the behind.

"And let no one say dreams don't come true..." Negan exclaimed enthusiastically.

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